#idk you’ll just have to actually read the book to find out

[amazingmsme]

3E? 🤨

Sorry this took forever, I was trying to finish my spiderverse fic while there was still hype lol. But this one was so much fun & it gave me the perfect excuse to write a self indulgent fic for the book I finished earlier this year, aka Night Film

(For those who don’t know, this was in regards to an obscure media ask game) So without further ado, here’s a quick lil fic for my new favorite trio!

Wet Blanket Attitude

Nora was already showered and in her pajamas by the time they made it back to Scot's town house. He offered Hopper a fresh change of clothes and he stripped right there in the living room, slipping on the baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. Scott shook his head and chuckled fondly as he made his way to the bathroom, following Hopper's lead and stripping down the hall before turning into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Even though the hot shower was exactly what he needed, he was exhausted and didn't want to stand any longer. He exited in less than 10 minutes, fully dressed in plaid pajama pants and an old graphic tee he got in high school that had really seen better days. Holes dotted the entirety of the shirt, allowing pale skin to peak through. He collapsed on the couch, sandwiched between the two goons he somehow came to adopt.

"Okay old man? You look tired," Hopper spoke up on his right. Scot turned to give him a severely unamused glare.

"Yeah Hop. I am tired. Exhausted in fact," he snapped. "Maybe next time don't leave your partner in the dust."

"Maybe next time you should keep up," he quipped back, cocky smirk and all. Scot rolled his eyes with a huff, sinking deeper into the cushions.

"Just shut up. What are we watching anyway?" he asked, pointing at the tv, the only light source in the dark room.

"I dunno, just some crap Nora turned on."

"Hey! It is not crap!" she interjected, defensive over her choice of shows. "It's Little Shop of Horrors!"

"A musical? After what I just went through? Absolutely not, you might as well just shoot me," Scot grumbled, snatching the remote straight out of her hand. She made a noise of complaint as it was ripped from her grasp. "What gives?"

"My house, my tv, I decide what we watch," Scot sassed, searching through the channel guide until he found something suitable, settling on reruns of King of the Hill. He relaxed as he listened to Dale's classic paranoid ranting and shivered slightly as a chill ran through his body.

He looked to his left when he felt a hand tap his shoulder and saw Nora holding up the edge of her blanket. "You cold?"

Scot shook his head and turned his attention back to the tv. "No thanks, I'm fine."

"But you look cold! Doesn't he look cold?" Nora asked Hopper for backup. He glanced at him from the corner of his eye, not really wanting to look away from the screen.

"Uh, sure," he agreed, because it was just easier to just go with whatever Nora was saying than trying to argue.

"I think the doctor's prescribing you a dose of my body heat," she said matter of factly. Scot furrowed his brows, but before he could question her, the blanket was thrown over him and she was pressed against his side. Scot let out a long, suffering sigh but let it happen, too tired to push her away. Besides, that would've been rude.

"Oh no, it's worse than I thought! Quick Hop, I think he needs a double dose!"

Hopper's lips quirked up in an amused smirk. He pressed the back of his hand to Scot's forehead and decided to play along. "You're right, he's freezing!"

"You two are ridiculous," he said, barely holding back a chuckle.

Nora scoffed, "Someone has to be." Scot looked at her, narrowing his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you got a stick up your ass. You take things too seriously," Hopper chided in, still staring at the screen.

"Because this is a serious investigation!" he defended himself. "And I'd appreciate it if you two buckled down and treated it as such," he scolded.

"Hey, I'm the one who found the list of guest names! Which, you're welcome by the way," Hopper sassed.

"The polite thing to do would be to say thank you," Nora prompted. Scot merely scoffed in amusement.

"For what? Being a smart ass?"

"Okay, now you're being one," Hopper said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "I think someone just lost their blanket privileges," he said matter of factly, yanking the blanket off of Scot, and consequently, Nora.

He tried to hide the shiver that coursed through his body when the cold air hit his skin. Nora lunged across his lap to try and wrestle the blanket back. "Hey, you can't punish me too!"

"Maybe you should sit in the middle then," Scot suggested.

"No way, everyone knows the sides are the best part of the couch!" she argued.

In their playful tussle, Nora happened to accidentally squeeze Hopper's thigh. He jerked away and barked out a laugh, hand flying up to cover his mouth. Nora's eyes lit up with mischief.

"Give me the blanket and I might go easy on you," she bargained.

Hopper glared at her and wrapped the blanket around him tighter. "Do your worst."

Nora didn't need to be told twice, immediately setting to work and going for his side. He twisted and bent over in an attempt to dislodge her hands, but her fingers already poked and prodded anywhere she could reach.

In the short time they'd known each other, neither Scot nor Nora had even heard him laugh. So it came as a shock to see him curl in a ball, hiding his face in the soft blanket. His long legs kicked out and flailed as Nora's hands slipped inside his fuzzy shield and skittered over his belly.

Hopper was leaning against Scot's shoulder, laughing loudly right by his ear. Maybe if he wasn't so tired, he'd let it slide; after all, the kid could stand to lighten up, but this was too much noise for Scot's liking. Not to mention Nora was laying across his lap in order to reach her giggly victim. So Scot was quite literally trapped in the middle of a tickle fight with no foreseeable escape... If he wasn't careful, this could end badly.

"It's pretty late and we all had a rough day, so I think I'm gonna head off to bed," he spoke up above the loud laughter as he tried to worm his way out of the prison he found himself in. "Just try to laugh a little quieter," he teased Hopper, shooting him a wink.

"What? No, you can't leave!" Nora protested. "C'mon, just stay 'til the end of this episode!" she pleaded, not letting him get up from the couch.

He looked up in disbelief. "Nora, the episode just started," he said in a deadpan tone. She giggled, but not as much as Hopper was from her nails skittering over his neck.

"So? It gives us the perfect amount of time!" she chirped. Scot narrowed his eyes, giving her a skeptical look.

"To do what?" he dared to ask.

"To do this!" she exclaimed, catching him completely off guard by tickling up his ribs. He choked out a laugh before he could stop himself, his entire body going tense.

“N-Noraha! What’re you-“

“Tickle fight! Duh!” she mocked, hands never ceasing their work. Scot thrashed and tried to crawl off the couch, only for her to grab his ankle and pull him back.

“Nohoho! It’s too lahahate for thihihis!” he protested through his laughter. He snorted rather loudly when she dug under his arms to tickle his pits, turning bright red from embarrassment.

“Aww that’s so cute! I didn’t know you snort when you laugh!” she cooed. Scot yanked the blanket from Hopper’s lap to hide his blushing face and hopefully muffle his giggle fit. Nora had no trouble skittering about his torso, looking to Hopper for help. “Aren’t you gonna help? I mean, this opportunity doesn’t come along every day.”

Hopper’s amused smirk quickly morphed into a downright sinister grin as he made a show of cracking his knuckles. Scot shook his head, but the endless stream of laughter spilling from his lips did nothing to deter him.

“Well then, I’d be an idiot to pass up on something like this,” he teased, grabbing his legs in a headlock. Scot’s eyes widened and his thrashing doubled.

“No! Cohome on guys, l-let’s just gohoho to bed! W-we ahahall had aha long dahahay!” he tried reasoning with them.

“Yeah, and this is a great way to unwind! I mean, just imagine how happy and relaxed you’ll be when we get through! Think of it like therapy,” Nora rambled on, playfully pinching up and down his sides.

“Thihihis ihis nowhere near theheherapy!” Scot argued, but the wide smile on his face said otherwise. He’d never admit it, especially not to them, but it kinda felt good to laugh so much after an absolute shit day.

But then Hopper started scratching underneath his toes, and Scot immediately vetoed that fleeting thought.

Of course they didn’t plan on tickling him for the entire duration of the episode, only for about halfway through. (Which was still too long in Scot’s opinion.)

As soon as they granted mercy and let him go, he flopped against the back of the couch, face still pink and panting for breath.

“You two are downright cruel. Never do that again,” he ordered.

“Nah, I think it should be a regular thing. Doctor’s orders to cure that wet blanket attitude of yours,” Nora teased, looking rather smug. Scot groaned.

“I’m not even a wet blanket. If anyone here classified as one it’s Ponyboy over there,” he said, weakly gesturing to Hopper.

“Huh?” he asked, looking just as clueless as Nora.

“The Outsiders? Stay gold, Ponyboy?” he questioned, waiting for the reference to click. When it didn’t, he sighed and sat up.

“They don’t make you kids read any good books in school these days,” he complained, mostly to himself. He finally stood up and stretched, his back popping loudly.

“And just because I’m heading off to bed now doesn’t mean I’ll let you off the hook for that little stunt. I’ll cash in my revenge tomorrow, so beware,” he warned, already walking down the hall to his room.

The two watched him leave, sitting in silence until Nora spoke up.

“You think he’ll actually do it?”

“Nah. He’s all bark, no bite. We got nothin’ to worry about,” Hopper insisted.

Oh how wrong they were.

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay I’m adding two more resolutions for 2025. I am exclusively mood-reading books, which means no TBR and no regimented planned reading, and I am also refusing to wear anything I don’t want to wear

[nereidprinc3ss]

toaster waffles

in which spencer is woken up by fem!reader and their young daughter after being away on a case

fluff warnings/tags: none really, a bit of suggestiveness between spencer and reader but nothing explicit, their daughter is a genius duh, i love dad!spence so fucking much holy shit a/n: i wrote this in like thirty minutes so good luck! just needed to write dad spencer it just needed to happen idk

“No—baby, we have to let daddy sleep in,” you chide your daughter, jogging to catch her as she races down the hallway on clumsy little legs. 

“No! I wanna see daddy!” She yells—and if Spencer wasn’t awake yet, he will be now. You give in, opening the bedroom door for Ada with a fond (exasperated) sigh. 

“Daddy! Daddy wake up!” 

He blinks sleepily several times, sitting up and grinning at his daughter as she attempts to climb up onto the bed. 

“Hi, princess,” he laughs, grunting dramatically as he pulls her up onto his lap. “Oh my gosh, did you get all grown up while I was gone?”

He catches your eye as you stop at the foot of the bed, arms folded and mouthing an amused ‘I’m sorry.’ Spencer smiles and almost imperceptibly shakes his head, eyes sparkling as Ada attempts to use him as playground equipment. No apology necessary. 

“I made you breakfast!” she remembers, grabbing onto his shoulders and springing up and down on the bed. His eyes go wide. 

“You did? Where is it?”

“Oh no!” she claps her hands to her cheeks and opens her mouth wide, Home Alone style. Spencer laughs. “I forgot it!”

Then she’s wriggling off the bed and running as fast as her little feet will carry her, presumably to the kitchen. 

“You like cold toaster waffles, right?” you tease, approaching the bed and filling the now empty seat that is Spencer’s lap. His hands find your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I would go so far as to say I love them. Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder. “I missed you. I forgot how hard it is when you’re gone.”

He hums, running his hand over your hair. 

“I know. Me too.” Spencer now only consults on cases, and very rarely is he actually obliged to travel with the BAU. It was never easy before, but now that you have a child, it takes more out of everyone. “Hey. Look at me.”

You do, lifting your head and meeting his soft gaze. He leans forward and captures your lips in a gentle kiss, brushing his thumb over your cheek before pulling away. “I love you. Thank you for taking care of the progeny while I was away. I know it’s not easy on your own.”

“Eh. She’s alright. She reads to me at bedtime.”

Spencer grins, eyes darting back to your lips. Several quick kisses are pressed there in succession, and it’s not exactly how he wanted to say good morning to you but that will have to wait until later. 

“Ewww!” 

Ada is at the door again, waffle in hand, making a half-disgust half-delight face before prancing back to the bed and receiving another airlift from Spencer up onto the mattress. 

“What do you mean, ew?” he asks in mock offense as her legs swing in the air. “You’re next!”

You watch in unadulterated joy as he peppers little kisses all over her face and she pretends to hate it, squealing with glee.

“Is that for me?” he asks once she’s comfortably sharing his lap with you, pointing to the forgotten waffle. She holds it up, pressing the disk against his lips. Spencer takes a bite, makes an exaggerated yum sound, and kisses her forehead once more. “Thank you. That was delicious.”

“You have to eat all of it so you’ll grow up big and strong.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll do that. Why don’t you leave it on the nightstand and go find a book we can read together?”

“Game of Thrones!”

“No!” he laughs. “That book is way too grownup for you!”

“But I read the first three pages!”

“I know you did. And Auntie Penelope is still in big trouble for that. Go get Lord of the Rings.”

Full of energy despite the early hour, Ada skitters off again to find the book. 

“She’s too smart for her own good,” you sigh, listening to her making up a song as she picks through the book shelf in the next room. 

“Intelligence is generally more nurture than nature. If we act fast we could probably stunt her IQ to just two or three standard deviations above the average.”

You giggle, straddling him as he slips his hand under your shirt to rub your back. Then you try to school your features into a serious expression.

“Not funny.”

That big, lazy grin might never fade—and you’d be happy to look at it forever. 

“You’re right. Not funny at all.”

“Hey,” you remember, grabbing his biceps. He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “I was gonna make you real breakfast. What do you want?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t. I want to. So tell me what you want.”

“Anything other than a toaster waffle.”

You snort, moving to slide off the bed. 

“We can probably make that happen.”

“Hey—" he catches your waist, pulling you closer. “Penelope is taking Ada to the park this afternoon. We’re gonna spend some time together, okay?”

After having an entire child together, you still get butterflies when he looks at you like that. 

“What if I have plans this afternoon?”

Spencer doesn’t even look mildly concerned—just tilts his head, brushes his thumb over your lips. 

“Then I’m asking you to cancel them, pretty girl. I owe you some undivided attention.”

You chew on your lip. It’s embarrassing how easily he can still fluster you. 

“Right now I have to go find out why our child is being so quiet.”

He laughs, letting you slip from his grasp for good. 

“She probably got into the Stephen King again.”

You pick up the waffle and gesture at him with it emphatically as you walk away.

“This is all your fault.”

“Mm… let’s call it a team effort.”

[lcvelycait]

OMG I loved that! I'd die if you make a part two with more of the brothers :))

𝝑𝝔　　 ⁺( ᵔ⤙ᵔ)　hidden love　⟡

(ᴗᴗ｡ ) 　˚　　♡　₊ 　  ﹒　how well do they keep their feelings from MC before it gets exposed . . ?

꒰ა ໒꒱　┄　﹒　ft. obey me younger bros x gn!reader

⤷        ❤︎       ૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა      pt. 1 with the older bros!

˚　　𓂃　𓆩𓆪　　　⌦　　cw ﹕ none — just fluff

SPOILER WARNING FOR LESSON 16 ON BELPHIES PART IM SORRY AUSKWJSBDK

(´-﹏-)　⠀⟢ ⠀a/n ﹕ HI! 2nd fic post! I wasn’t expecting my first post to gain that much ‘traction, it’s not much, but I’m happy I got over 200 notes in 2 days! :3 apologies if the younger brothers are ooc, ESPECIALLY ASMO:( (sorry to the Asmo lovers.. is now an okay time to mention I share my birthday with him?) I know more about the older bros rather than the younger ones AAAAA 😭 IM SO SORRY!!! hope this was goooodddd agiahwisbdk

✧　　Satan

just like Lucifer, he’d be pretty good at hiding them. but also, unlike Lucifer, he’d actually be leaving hints. like leaving breadcrumbs as a trail

he’s more of a/n (idk which to choose…. IM SORRY) “I want you—but it’s okay if you don’t feel the same” kinda guy rather than “I WILL HAVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT” ahem— lucifer.. ahem.. he wouldn’t be ashamed to let you know that he has feelings for you, but when it comes to his brothers…..

he’s really respectful of what you want and your boundaries, he tries his best not to cross over them and if he does he’d apologize and let you come with him to see the cat that keeps coming in the backyard of the house of lamentation

he tries his best not to lash out on you, even if he’s feeling extremely pissed, he knows better than to scare off the person he considers the love of his life

your presence alone just calms him down, throw in some reassurance and he’ll calm down COMPLETELY for the rest of the entire week. you really think that way about him? you’re so sweet.. come here MC, I’ll give you this book I’m not even finished reading yet! he’ll probs get mad again cause Mammon did smth

yeah, he’ll let you borrow a book from him even if he’s not finished reading it yet, heck, read along with him, he doesn’t care! he’ll even try to read with you by your pace so you don’t have to tell him to ‘wait, i’m not done yet’ or to ‘turn the page’

tells you about his plans for the anti-lucifer league, until Lucifer actually overhears and gives him a punishment to clean the dishes for the whole week

looks forward to talking to you, or just seeing you. he wakes up for you and also tries to better himself for you. even if you say he’s fine just the way he is (his heart skipped a beat), he wants to be on his best behaviour when he’s with you

he’d be the first to compliment you, really, he’s in a race with NO ONE. even then, he wants to be the first to tell you that you look great today even though you probably spent the whole night either reading fanfics or doing a project and couldn’t get any sleep. he loves you in any form

does he get jealous when you talk to his other brothers? probably, but he calms himself down, telling himself that you’ll soon be his and that he doesn’t need to worry. he gets angry when you talk to Lucifer though

would you find out? depends if you follow the trail he leaves for you or not. probably yes though because you’ll catch him staring at your lips while you two are hanging out in your room

✧　　Asmodeus

beauty influencer asmo! would his feelings be obvious? sort of.. he shows his love in a unique way that most of the time seems like he’s looking out for you (because he is, and he’s doing it with love!)

usually he won’t share products, he’s secretly a gatekeeper in my eyes, but you’re an exception because he wants nothing but the best for his darling!

will randomly message you at any time saying “hey MC! have you tried this product yet? it’s so good! you should try it~”

he makes sure to test out what type of face you have, if it’s sensitive or not, before giving you the cream or toner that he already has sitting in his room (most likely from a sponsor)

invites you to his room to either paint your nails or style your hair with hair clips (if you have any) or just to gossip, really. or all!

he’ll take you shopping with him, of course! it’s not like you have any other choice, he’d say. you need a whole new wardrobe! he would also say

when you two are out shopping, he’ll pick clothes out for you! he knows your style/aesthetic at heart, and if you can’t pick one, it’s alright! he just got paid from his modeling shoot from last week, so he’d want to spoil himself, and his darling ♡

SHOWERS you with praise. oh my days you will not go a single day without asmo at least telling you that you’re second to his beauty, and you should be happy about it! personally i wouldn’t consider that praise, but hey! that’s how asmo’s brain works

he dresses you up like a doll, he calls you that too! you’re almost as perfect as him.

only clothes from your wardrobe though! his fashion must be unique and only Asmo! he’ll lend you a few clothes here and there, but you rarely get to keep any.

if you’re feeling stressed he’ll offer a manipedi, if you turn that down you two can have a relaxing time in his tub. if you turn that down too, he’ll massage you with the most luxurious essential oils ever. if you want all of that, he’d be more than happy to do it!

it’s up to you to decide if you’d figure out whether he likes you or not, but you should know that he never does this for anyone, let alone a human! *insert asmo pouting with crossed arms

✧　　Beelzebub

SWEETIE! omd i love this cutie patootie

his feelings surprisingly wouldn’t be obvious until one day he randomly mentions that he likes you or he has this sweet feeling that courses throughout his body when he sees you and his heart skips a beat

he can’t express his feelings very well, especially through his face. so this cutie might slip up while talking to you with a mouth stuffed with food

you two will be in the kitchen after you just cooked something for beel because he saw something while scrolling through DevilTube and he sent it to you saying “can you make this for me MC? i love your cooking, i think the fact you cooked this will make this taste 1000x better.”

very much enjoying your cooking, you followed every step right, and you just added your sheep magic.. (just cooking it is your sheep magic but Beel doesn’t need to know)

loves how you don’t mind that he eats so much, he can’t help it, his stomach’s growling for some food all the time.

you’re still trying to figure out how Belphie can figure out what Beel wants just by the sound of his growling stomach. you’ve asked them both countless of times. surely it’s not just because they’re twins… right?

always sends you links to cooking recipe videos and asks you if you can make that the next time it’s your turn to cook or to just make it for him right now. never pressures you though <3

ever since Lucifer caught Beel in the kitchen at 2am eating away to his hearts content, he put a special curse on the fridge so Beel can’t access it unless he gets permission from Lucifer who comes down and grabs what Beel needs and that’s it.

and by some miracle… you come into his room and.. sneak in some food for him..?

man gets to snacking IMMEDIATELY. gobbles everything down, he’s only been able to eat at breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the last 2 days, his stomach couldn’t handle this.

thanks you profusely and tells you how much he appreciates you being here

gives you some to share. he doesn’t share his food with anyone, so that’s how you know you’re special to him.

it’d be hard to tell if whether or not he likes you, given the fact that he’s not the kind to react with his face and eats almost everything <3 but if you have a good eye you might realize that pookie likes you

bring him more snacks please! he’d love to share them with you ♡

✧　　Belphegor

sleepy king Belphie! this man doesn’t get any water at all!

despite being so sleepy and being lazy most of the time, i see him as sort of a yandere. he’s kinda possessive, but not the suffocating kind. he just wants you all for himself

invites you to his room or to the attic or just barges in your room to cuddle and sleep together, but he makes sure to be gentle, he wants you to know after everything he’s done to you that he’s changed

sometimes when you two are cuddling with each other, he’ll get nightmares of the time he tried to end your life subscription.

he wakes up in a cold sweat to find you either still laying on his chest or looking up at him with a smile, asking him if he had that nightmare again.

you and him both know that he wouldn’t do it again, but just knowing he already did it once scares him. he’s scared of what he’s capable of doing to you :(

give this man a hug, he’s trying his best

he knows you extremely well, like with his twin and their telepathy, you and him have your own

he’ll randomly message you saying “i bet you’re doing [insert thing you’re doing right now] right now” with that little sticker kissy thing

he likes laying on your lap, he dozes off quickly though. it’s his second pillow. bonus points if you play with his hair, he’s off to dream world (oh) in a blink. (gone)

tries his best to stay awake whenever you two are doing something, but his eyelids are always so heavy! he murmurs as he gets comfortable in your lap to sleep

you can’t really watch movies with him, he’ll easily fall into a deep sleep with just a wink. but he tries his best to stay awake for you. you really wanna watch this movie with him? awww, he might fall asleep though.. oh this is a really great movimmmfmfffmimimi hkoonnkk shoooo…

if the fact that he asks if he can cuddle with you ‘til you both fall asleep isn’t already a dead giveaway that he likes you, then idk HELP

he’ll hold you like the fragile human you are. after all, you’re his human, no one can steal you away from him ♡

[webbluvrsugar]

hi my darling! i just read your spencer reid x new recruit reader and im aching for another part where spencer warms up to the reader. maybe some angst where he cheers up reader? idk, but i love your work!! 💌💌

a/n: you guys have no idea of how happy I am that you all liked it!! <33 time skip here we go!

It’s been a few months since you and Spencer talked, after all that basket disaster, you’ve been wondering if you should talk to him at all, sometimes you make tiny questions, about his day, about how he found the gifts, about things about him. Spencer never answers clearly, it’s mostly weird and awkward because even if he’s a more mature man now, — freshly out of prison — he’s weirdly quite himself but he still prefers to stay reserved instead of leaning into your conversations, he just doesn’t understand that it hurts you until he almost walks in one of your conversations with JJ.

“I just don’t get it, he’s so nice towards you, towards everyone,” you whisper, the door of her office is still open, you’re not just going to yell about how one of your coworkers has been treating you. “I mean I would’ve understood it if I had offended him, but I didn’t.”

JJ’s voice became muted to him and suddenly, he just couldn’t get that off his mind. It’s all he’s been thinking about for the past days, he thinks that maybe, being a bit more open towards you won’t hurt.

You’re now both getting coffee, he’s glancing at you towards the corner of his eyes, taking a soft moment to let his eyes glance over your features, slower than he intended because you notice it, and you blush. You both reach pot, hands breaching over each others softly, a tender moment between you two before he pulls away and you’re already hushing a “Sorry.” to him. Spencer doesn’t understand why you’re sorry, but he doesn’t question it.

“Don’t worry.” He flashes you a hint of a smile, his lips parting as if he’s going to say something, it’s the only reason you stay. “I..I actually liked the books you gifted me.” He nods towards you as he pours himself coffee before moving onto your mug.

“Oh, thank you, I didn’t know what you liked so I just included some classics.” You smile towards him, all bright and shiny, he finds comfort in that smile.

“‘The collector’ was a good choice.” He presses his lips into a thin line, his hands letting go of the pot before he reaches for a spoon and the sugar, dumping one, two, what was it? Three or four fulls spoons of sugar?

“Only fitting for a brain like yours.” You praise, he glances back at you, the colourful scrunchies around your wrist, the neat hairstyle you did, the tint on your lips, he can tell you’ll be good friends with Garcia. You pick up a spoon, contrasting his behaviour with only a spoonful of sugar. “Careful, Dr. Reid, you might find yourself with diabetes if you keep up with that.” You joke.

Spencer doesn’t know what it was, but it makes him crack a small smile as you turn on your heels and leave, and when he finally realises your praise, he blushes, stuck in place before Morgan calls his name.

He was right, being a little bit more open didn’t hurt.

[luvfae]

hiiii im in love with your blog i read everything u write >.< idk if ur taking reqs but i was wondering if you could write an x reader where her and thanos are basically mirrored. they’re known in their circles as “that couple” not saying the it couple because although theyre fine shyts theyre the type to break up bimonthly and have the highest of highs but the lowest of lows. sooo sooo toxic but they always find their ways back to each other 🫶🏽

BACK TO YOU

parings: thanos/choi su bong x f!reader

warnings: barely any smut, but it’s still there. fingering, swearing, toxic relationship.

“Get the fuck out, Thanos.”

Your voice was raw, venom dripping from every syllable as you stood in the doorway, one hand clutching the edge like you needed it to stay upright.

Thanos stood in the center of your apartment, chest heaving, fists clenched. His face was flushed, a mixture of anger and whatever cheap liquor he’d drowned himself in before stumbling over here to start this fight.

“You don’t mean that,” he bit out, jaw so tight you swore you heard his teeth grind.

“Oh, I fucking do.” Your laughter was sharp, bitter, like glass in his ears. “Every single time, Thanos. Every fucking time. We do this, we scream at each other, I throw you out, you come crawling back, and guess what? I’m tired.”

His nostrils flared. “Don’t act like this is one-sided. You like this shit just as much as I do.”

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Yeah? And what’s that say about you?”

For a second, he didn’t speak. Didn’t move. His dark eyes dragged over you, as if committing this moment to memory. The way you stood, all fire and fury, pretending you weren’t one shove away from letting him back in.

Then he shook his head. “You always do this,” he muttered. “Act like you’re done, like you actually want me gone, but you’ll be back. You always come back.”

“Not this time.”

His lips curled. “Yeah? We’ll see, baby.”

And then he was gone.

The door slammed shut, rattling the walls.

You slid down to the floor, exhaling so sharply it felt like the breath had been knocked out of you.

Fucking bastard.

You hated how much you loved him.

It started two years ago.

A toxic, chaotic, beautiful fucking mess.

You were the queen of the nightlife, a club promoter who never had to wait in lines, never had to buy her own drinks, never had to lift a finger because the whole city knew your name. You ran the scene—decided which parties were hot, which DJs were worth booking, which clubs were worth stepping foot in.

Thanos was the king of the underground. A different kind of king, one who moved through the city’s underbelly like it was built for him. He was the guy people went to when they needed something that couldn’t be bought in stores. Drugs, money laundering, security—if it was illegal, Thanos had his hands in it.

You should’ve never crossed paths.

But you did.

And it was fucking electric.

The first time you met, it was a collision—both of you too headstrong, too cocky, too sure of yourselves to let the other have the upper hand.

The first time you fucked, it was the same thing. A battle, a war, neither of you willing to let the other walk away without losing something.

And when you fell for each other, you fell hard.

You were that couple. The ones people whispered about. The ones who burned too bright, too hot, always seconds away from imploding. You fought in public, you fucked in bathrooms, you broke up at least once a month and got back together just as fast.

And now?

Now you were supposed to be done.

Except you weren’t.

Because the next night, you walked into the club you were promoting, and there he was.

Thanos.

Sitting in a VIP booth like he fucking owned the place.

Your stomach twisted.

He looked good. Too good. Loose black button-up, sleeves rolled up, gold chains glinting under the dim lights, rings flashing as he lifted a drink to his lips.

And he was staring at you.

You knew you should turn around. Walk the other way. Pretend like last night had actually meant something, like this time you’d meant it when you said you were done.

But you didn’t.

You walked straight to him.

He smirked, setting his drink down. “Knew you’d come over.”

You rolled your eyes, stopping at the edge of the table. “What are you doing here, Thanos?”

“Waiting for you.” He leaned back, arms draping over the booth. “Miss me already?”

Your nails dug into your palm. “No.”

“Liar.”

You let out a sharp breath. “You should go.”

He tilted his head, watching you. “Nah, baby. I think you should come here.”

You scoffed, but your body betrayed you, moving before you could stop it.

Thanos’ hands were on you the second you were close enough. Big, warm, familiar. He pulled you between his legs, looking up at you with those dark fucking eyes, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Say you don’t want me,” he murmured, so quiet only you could hear.

You clenched your jaw. “I don’t want you.”

His grip tightened.

“Liar,” he whispered.

And then he was kissing you.

And you let him.

Because you were weak. Because you were addicted. Because he tasted like danger and home all at once.

His hands slid under your dress, fingertips skimming up your thighs, teasing, possessive.

“Thanos,” you warned, but it came out breathless, shaky.

“You miss me?” he murmured against your lips, fingers slipping higher.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “No.”

But your body told a different story, pressing into him, heat pooling in your stomach.

Thanos chuckled, dark and low, and then—

His fingers slipped under your panties.

Your breath hitched, hands clutching his shoulders as he dragged them over your clit, lazy and slow.

Your knees nearly buckled.

“Apology accepted?” he teased, voice thick with amusement.

You whimpered.

His other hand slid up your back, pulling you closer, mouth brushing your ear. “You’re mine, baby,” he murmured, sliding a finger inside you. “You always have been.”

Your head dropped against his shoulder, body trembling.

And the worst part?

You knew he was right.

[sweetheartsofpanem]

Dust and Danish - Soft Things Survive

Previous Part

the slow burn begins🌝 i figured 8-9 chapters of them becoming closer friends then having a ✨moment✨ is good enough buildup lmao also her sitting on the porch is a few days after the next morning, i feel like it’s kind of confusing to get from reading it but idk how else to write it

warnings: refer to series masterlist

pairing(s): refer to series masterlist

word count: 3.06k

series masterlist | main masterlist

Neither of you mentioned it the next morning. He left before you woke up, and when you stepped outside later—still bleary, still unsure if it had actually happened—he was sitting on his porch like always, nursing a cup of what looked to be orange juice with that same unreadable expression.

The only thing that changed was what he called you.

Honey.

He said it casually, like he’d been doing it for years. Like it wasn’t something new, something soft.

You didn’t question it. You didn’t point it out. Just said it was downright shocking for you to see him without his flask, earning you a dry laugh.

So now, instead of kid, it’s honey—drawled out with sarcasm most of the time, but not entirely sharp. There’s warmth there. Something close to familiarity.

Not that you’re complaining. Things between you and Haymitch are still the same in all the ways that count—he still pokes at you, still drinks too much, still has that tired look behind his eyes like he’s never really sleeping. But something’s shifted, just a little. You feel it in the way he lingers longer when you talk.

You feel it in yourself, too. The way you feel more at ease with him, words slipping out quicker and the doubt quieting to a soft hum.

The sky is hazy, soft with clouds, and the air smells like something growing—earth and leaves and the promise of summer. You’re sitting on the steps, finding shapes in the clouds, when you hear a familiar voice call from next door.

“Hey, honey. You gonna stare at clouds all day or come help me move this damn crate?”

You turn your head. Haymitch is standing at the steps of his porch, a half-empty crate of firewood at his feet, one hand shading his eyes against the sun.

You roll your eyes. “Flattering as that offer is, I’m not exactly built for manual labor.”

He smirks. “Didn’t ask you to build a house, just help me not throw my back out.”

You sigh, set your tea aside, and push yourself up. “Fine. But if I throw my back out, you’re making me soup for a week.”

“Deal,” he calls back, already turning like he knows you’ll follow.

And you do. Because despite the ache that still lives quietly under your ribs, despite the voice that hasn’t gone entirely quiet, it feels easier today.

You follow Haymitch up his porch steps and into the familiar disarray of his living room. It smells like old books and strong liquor, and you notice the bookshelf is toppled over.

“I swear, I didn’t even knock it over,” he grumbles, gesturing vaguely toward the toppled shelf as you set the crate down.

You raise an eyebrow. “So what did? A very determined breeze?”

He points at you with a look that says he’s debating whether to argue or concede. “Breeze was a little drunk too.”

You snort, shaking your head as you step past him and crouch down beside the scattered books. “You have a truly unshakeable talent for avoiding blame.”

“I’ve been honing it for decades.”

You start sorting through the books, dust puffing up as you stack them in small, haphazard piles. A few of the spines are cracked and water-stained, the kind of wear that comes from years of being carried from place to place without real care.

Haymitch watches you for a second, then grabs a chair and drags it closer, sitting with a heavy sigh. “You always been this helpful, or is this some kind of long con?”

You glance up at him, deadpan. “I’m planning to rob you blind.”

“Joke’s on you,” he says, lifting his flask. “You’re already sitting in the riches.”

You chuckle under your breath. “A gold mine of sarcasm and hangovers. Truly, I’ve hit the jackpot.”

He grins, and there’s that softness again—almost imperceptible, buried beneath the rough edges, but there.

You finally speak again, voice low. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you upright before late afternoon without a sarcastic reason.”

Haymitch hums. “Don’t get used to it, honey. Might throw off your whole worldview.”

The word still catches you a little. Honey. He says it so easily, like he hadn’t been calling you kid for the past three months.

You brush a bit of dust off your hands and sit back on your heels. “You ever think about just… throwing most of this out? Starting fresh?”

He considers it for a moment, then shakes his head. “Nah. It’s all crap, but it’s my crap.”

You nod, understanding more than you want to admit. “Guess we all hang onto the things that made us.”

His eyes flick to you, sharper now. “Even the ones that broke us?”

You shrug. “Especially those.”

A beat passes.

Then, in his usual tone: “Great. Now we’re philosophical. If you start crying, I’m out.”

You snort. “If I cry, it’ll be from the dust in this place.”

Haymitch leans back in his chair, one leg slung over the other like he’s got all the time in the world. You swear he only ever looks comfortable when he’s surrounded by chaos.

“So,” he says, swirling the flask like he’s about to make a toast, “what’d I do to deserve your help today? Feel like I should be suspicious.”

You arch an eyebrow as you dust your hands off on your jeans. “Maybe I’m just a generous soul.”

He scoffs. “That, or you finally cracked and decided to join me in the descent.”

“I prefer to call it community service,” you say, grabbing another handful of books and tossing a crooked grin his way. “It’s the least I could do, considering how often you let me hog your porch.”

“You’re not hogging anything,” he says, then after a beat adds with gruffness, “It’s not like anyone else is lining up to sit there and listen to your existential ramblings.”

You feign a wounded look. “Wow. That’s how you talk to someone doing you a favor?”

He shrugs. “You want compliments, you came to the wrong house.”

“I want basic decency, but I guess we’re both out of luck.”

That earns a real laugh, the kind that’s a little rough around the edges but honest. He rests his arm on the back of the chair, watching you with something that almost resembles fondness.

“You’re mouthy today,” he says.

You raise a brow. “More than usual?”

He tilts his head, considering. “It’s close.”

You smirk, tucking a few books onto the newly righted shelf. “You’re just mad because I’m getting better at keeping up with you.”

“Better? You think that’s what this is, honey?” He gestures between you both. “This is charity work on my part. I’m going easy.”

You snort, sitting back on your heels again. “Oh, right. I forgot how fragile your ego is.”

“Delicate as a soap bubble,” he deadpans.

You shake your head, laughing under your breath. “Must be exhausting—being this full of shit all the time.”

He grins. “It’s a gift.”

You meet his gaze for a second longer than you mean to, something unspoken settling in the air between you. His expression doesn’t shift, but the tension softens. There’s no sarcasm when he says, “You doing okay today?”

It’s casual, tossed out like any other remark. But you know it’s not. And it throws you off balance for just a second.

You glance down at your hands. “Better than the other day.”

He nods, and that’s all he does.

The silence that follows is nice. Not awkward, not heavy. Just still. The kind of still that doesn’t ask anything of you.

Finally, you rise to your feet, brushing dust from your knees. “Well. Shelf’s back to standing, and your emotional quota for the day has been met. I think my work here is done.”

He huffs. “You really do leave a room like you’re dropping the mic.”

You flash him a grin. “Gotta keep you entertained.”

He watches you head toward the door, then calls out behind you, “Hey.”

You glance back.

“Thanks,” he says, a little rougher now, like the word had to push its way out. “For coming over.”

You pause, surprised by the honesty in it. “Yeah,” you say, softer now. “Anytime.”

You step out onto the porch, and before the door shuts behind you, you hear him mutter, “Mouthy little brat.”

You step back into your house, a small smile still on your lips from Haymitch’s muttered insult.

The quiet inside your place doesn’t feel as suffocating as it did a few days ago. Still, it presses in around the edges, nudging you toward the door again. Before you can overthink it, you slip on your shoes and head back out—this time, across the way.

Katniss and Peeta’s house looks lived-in in a way yours still doesn’t. The curtains shift in the breeze from an open window, and something smells faintly sweet, like sugar and flour. You knock twice, light and quick.

Peeta answers, flour on his hands and a smudge of something on his cheek. “Hey,” he says, smiling like he’s actually happy to see you.

You blink. “Hey. Sorry if you’re busy.”

“I’m never too busy for a distraction,” he says easily. “Katniss is out hunting.”

You nod and glance over your shoulder. “I can come back.”

“Or,” he says, already stepping aside, “you could come in, and I could force you to taste-test.”

Your lips twitch. “You drive a hard bargain.”

He grins and leads you to the kitchen, where something golden and soft is cooling on a rack. The air is warm and sweet, and the scent alone is enough to make you forget whatever edge you were carrying.

“I feel like I’m always catching you mid-baking,” you say, settling at the table.

“I bake a lot,” Peeta replies, shrugging like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “It’s… grounding. Like painting, but with snacks.”

You laugh lightly. “That might be the most Peeta thing you’ve ever said.”

He mock-bows. “I live to be on-brand.”

He grabs a knife and carefully slices the pastry—something flaky and soft, like a fruit danish. He places one half on a small plate and hands it to you, waiting expectantly as you take a bite.

It’s incredible, of course.

“Okay,” you mumble, already going in for another bite. “That’s unfair.”

He beams. “Success.”

You eat quietly for a few moments, the kind of silence that doesn’t bother you anymore when you’re with him. It feels safe. Uncomplicated. Like maybe you can just exist here without feeling like you’re holding your breath.

Peeta sits across from you, tapping flour from his fingertips. “You seem better today.”

You glance up. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t push for more. Just nods like that’s enough.

You like this. Too much, maybe. The way Peeta is always steady and easy to be around. The way you feel like you can almost be yourself without overthinking every word.

It scares you.

Your gaze drops to the plate, voice quieter now. “Is it weird that I still don’t know how to just… accept this?”

He doesn’t ask what ‘this’ means. He just watches you for a second, then says, “No. It’d be weird if you did.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I don’t want to mess it up,” you admit. “I keep waiting for the part where everyone realizes I’m not actually worth the effort.”

Peeta’s smile softens, less bright but somehow more real. “We’re not keeping score, Y/N.”

You nod, but doubt still pokes at your edges.

Then you remember what Haymitch said just days ago. His voice surprisingly gentle in your memory:

“Just let it be what it is right now. Doesn’t need to be all or nothing. Doesn’t need to be permanent or perfect. Just… real enough for now.”

You sit with that.

Let it anchor you.

You glance up, your expression more open now. “Okay. Real enough for now.”

Peeta tilts his head. “That sounds like something Haymitch would say.”

You shrug. “Maybe he has a moment now and then.”

He laughs, and you do too—easier this time.

Peeta leans back in his chair, elbow propped on the table, fingers absently dusting flour off his sleeve. He doesn’t rush to fill the silence, doesn’t seem to need to. And maybe that’s why the words start to rise.

You glance down at your half-eaten pastry. “Do you ever think about the people you knew when you were little? Not the ones who made it through, but the ones who didn’t?”

Peeta looks up, quietly. “Yeah. All the time.”

You nod slowly. “There was this girl. Fiza.” The name feels like something soft and breakable on your tongue. “We met when we were five.”

His brows lift slightly, but he stays quiet, just listening.

“She was…” You pause, fingers tracing the rim of your plate. “She was wild in the best way. Hair like it had never seen a comb and the sharpest tongue in all of District 12. She was so skinny and shorter than anyone else our age, but her attitude made up for it. She once told off a Peacekeeper for stepping on a dandelion.”

Peeta chuckles, warm and quiet. “Sounds like my kind of person.”

“She was,” you say, a little smile tugging at your lips. “She never cared what anyone thought. Didn’t care that my mom hated me or that I wore the same clothes every day. She just… picked me. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.”

Your throat tightens, but you push through it with a sad smile. “She used to sneak me these stale cookies her mom got from somewhere—even though they barely had food and she should’ve saved them for herself. But she never let me turn them down, always insisted I needed them.”

You feel your fingers grip the edge of the table. “She died when we were fourteen. Reaped for the Games.”

You take a breath, steadying yourself. “It was the first time I’d ever seen her scared.”

Peeta watches you carefully, not pushing, just letting you go on.

“She shook her head like she could undo it. Like if she said ‘no’ hard enough, the Capitol would back off.” Your voice is low, distant. “She looked at me and said, ‘I can’t.’ Like I could fix it.”

Your fingers grip the table harder, knuckles turning white.

“I told her to hold her head high. Even if she cried. That her tears didn’t make her weak.”

The memory pulls at you like a thread unraveling. “She walked to that stage like she wasn’t about to die. Even with her legs shaking, even with her face soaked in tears… she held her head high. Just like I told her to.”

Your throat tightens, but you keep going. “They wouldn’t let me say goodbye. Just walked away after some bullshit excuse.”

You look down at your hands. “I already knew that she wasn’t coming back. But that solidified it.”

Peeta’s voice is soft. “I’m sorry.”

You nod, your gaze fixed on the grain of the table. “She was the first person besides my dad who ever made me feel loved. Just for existing. She didn’t expect anything back. She just… loved me.”

You meet his eyes then, and you’re met with warmth, not pity. Understanding, not judgment.

“I think she would’ve liked you,” you say after a beat.

Peeta smiles, quiet and genuine. “I would’ve liked her.”

The moment settles between you—soft, heavy, and full. You glance toward the window, where sunlight filters lazily through the curtains. You could leave now. Retreat into yourself, like always.

But instead, you stay. Because maybe this is what Haymitch meant.

Just let it be what it is right now.

Peeta stands up—quietly, without ceremony—and gets you a glass of water, saying something about the heat. It’s a small, caring gesture that makes you smile.

And it hits you, unexpectedly hard—how much of Fiza you see in him.

Not in the way he looks. Not even in how he talks. But in the way he carries kindness like it’s something ordinary. In how he never makes you feel like a burden, even when you’re sure you are.

Fiza never let you turn down stale cookies, even when she was starving. Peeta never lets you feel like you have to apologize for existing.

It’s the same softness. That same stubborn warmth.

Maybe that’s why it’s been so hard to trust him. Because a part of you still expects kindness to vanish. For warmth to be a temporary thing, here one day and gone the next. You keep bracing for it—waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under you like it always has been.

But it hasn’t. Not with him.

And maybe… maybe it won’t.

The thought settles deep in your chest, quiet but grounding.

You look up to find Peeta already watching you, concern soft in his expression but not overbearing.

“You okay?” he asks gently.

You nod, a little slower this time. “Yeah. Just… remembering.”

He nods like he understands. Maybe he does.

You shift the conversation without thinking, needing something lighter to steady the air between you.

“You ever bake something so bad you had to throw the whole thing out?”

Peeta grins. “Only a dozen times. The first time I tried a recipe I didn’t learn at the bakery, it ended so badly. Katniss used it for target practice.”

You snort, grateful for the turn in topic. “Wish I’d seen that.”

“She missed on purpose,” he adds with mock offense. “Said she didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

You smirk. “She has a heart after all.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that.”

You glance out the window toward the woods, then back at Peeta. “When does she usually get back from hunting?”

He shrugs. “Usually around now, unless she found something worth tracking. Want to stay and wait?”

You nod. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

You take a sip of the water he gave you, letting the quiet settle again—but this time, it feels okay. Not heavy. Not sharp.

You don’t say it out loud, but something inside you softens. Like maybe you were meant to meet him. Like maybe, just maybe, this is where you’re supposed to be.

And that thought—that fragile, hopeful thing—is enough for now.

Next Part

[doc-davey]

Need to take a moment to talk about these books I have lol.

These books about David/Jonathan, I love and hate. Idk, like, I just can’t point out exactly, it’s probably the way David/Jonathan are depicted, but it really does frustrate me a little while reading this David/Jonathan trilogy.

It’s genuinely written well, like the writing isn’t corny or overly detailed lol. But it’s written with a Christian perspective, so David and Jonathan aren’t gay in this (sigh). 😞 But in these books, usually each chapter goes back and forth from Jonathan and David’s pov, and I love that.

The first two books are in David and Jonathan’s pov, but in the third book “My Father the King”, it’s in David and Mephibosheth’s pov. I get a lot of inspo for Mephi’s story from this book, but I actually have yet to finish the book because I’m too scared to finish 😭 (it’s literally just like my situation with the Prince’s Psalm atm lmaoo)

But just from reading the first two books, it’s so obviously written for them to be in love. The books are literally about their relationship. David and Jonathan meets, they connect, they share their deepest secrets and feelings, they fight side by side, and David even saves Jonathan from dying in battle!! Jonathan gets shot by arrows, and David wouldn’t stop visiting him. And you know what, Jonathan also saves David from dying in battle! And there’s a moment where David and Jonathan finds a waterfall, and Jonathan would playfully shove David into the water, and they would swim together on a cool night, just like the Simba and Nala water scene from The Lion King with “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” playing in the background if you know what I mean 😭 like AAAABABBAAAKSK, and throughout the books, even in the third book, David won’t stop yapping about how he constantly sees Jonathan in his dreams, as well as Jonathan who can’t get David out of his mind 😭 LIKE- NAHHH ☠️ hello??? Yeah, they’re definitely not in love or something… 🤔

But you know what, reading these books frustrated me so much.. The author made sure to constantly pull out the “we’re just friends!” card, so often 💀 it honestly doesn’t make sense to me ngl, from they way wanted to depict David and Jonathan’s relationship. Let me just say- if you’re going to dedicate an entire trilogy about David and Jonathan’s relationship only… there’s no fucking way you can pull it off as them just being “friends”, idk, it’s just not possible to me. The author would do this by, of course, “giving them a wife tactic”, but literally in the book, they cared more about each other than their wives LOL.

But yeah, my little review of this trilogy that I’ve been wanting to talk about. You can always check it out for yourself, I’d say I only recommend it if you like David retellings in general and if you want some Jonathan angst. Not kidding with the Jonathan angst 😭 he is so angsty in the books and a literal punching bag because every bad thing would happen to him. Like I would read about David going on some adventure, and when I turn to the next chapter, Jonathan is absolutely doomed by something 😭

And also, if you can handle the random preaching in the books where David breaks the forth wall and says that G-d is awesome or something and Jesus is coming, y’know, then perhaps you’ll enjoy the series 👍 (or maybe not)

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TGR CHAPTER 16 THOUGHTS **SPOILER WARNING**

- the teams in the western district refusing to talk shit about jean and saying he was very polite when asked by reporters is so fucking awesome

- cat and jeans friendship rlly is so precious to me

- disappointed that jean and the girls privacy has been violated in the leak of their address but also that letter from one of jeans old youth exy teammates was rather sweet

- literally just said what the fuck outloud about ten times

istg the raven lineup is being picked off one by fucking one

- pointless update but i just got distracted watching instagram reals for an hour

- “All the Trojans looked excited to be here, Jean realized as he glanced from one laughing face to another, and he felt the chasm between his heart and theirs keenly. ​He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at a court with any bright emotion.”

man jean u rlly do ur best to make me cry

- “Derek used the railing to haul himself up, and Tori caught his face in her hands for a quick kiss. A group of fans six rows up erupted in hoots and cheers, and Derek was grinning like a fool when he dropped back down to flat ground. ​Cherise caught Jean’s eye as he started to step back and said, “Look after our boys out there, will you?” ​“Our boys!” Derrick yelled before taking off at full speed. “Our! Boys!” ​“One of these days you’ll figure out he’s not joking about you,” “Sort yourself out before you string him along much longer, would you? He’s my brother.” MY GRIN IS SO HUGE GUYS JUST THIS WHOLE SCENE I LOVE IT

- jean taking every opportunity he gets to say how ugly and tacky he finds the trojans uniform is so funny he’s my fave hater

- stupid beautiful kevin and his big mouth, baby he wasn’t looking at jere he was looking at u

- i do have to say, as absolutely devastating as each revelation about jeans crushes is. kevjerejean shippers gotta be some of the luckiest bitches out there, y’all rlly devoted urselves to a ship with characters that hardly interacted in the og books, two of which clearly had beef and trauma. y’all are being indirectly fed with this series and each new revelation

(and before anyone takes this the wrong way, yes i do enjoy the ship! but if we’re talking kevin day ships then i must admit kandreil is my fave)

- “You are very good,” he said to Jeremy. “I finally understand why Kevin admires this team.” ​Looking at Jeremy was a mistake; Jean forced his attention back to the court so he wouldn’t have to face that pleased smile. ​“We,” Jeremy said. “We are very good, Jean.”

this is adorable and all but i can’t get over the fact that jean has been training with them for so longer and has played against them multiple times and just now he’s like yeah actually u guys aren’t bad!! 😭😭

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

- IMAGINE TRYNA PSYCH OUT UR OPPONENT BY SAYING ‘HON HON HON’ TRYING TO MOCK THEM ID LAUGH IN HIS FACE IF I WAS JEAN LIKE U JUST MADE URSELF LOOK STUPID

- aftg is the only sports book i’ve ever read and the only books that were able to make me actually interested in reading about sports

-Jean offered his mark a thumbs-up and intoned in English, “Have a winning day.” SHUT THE FUCK UP I LOVE HIM BADDDDDD HES SO FUNNY HE DID THE THING!! HIS OPPONENT WAS CUT AS FUCK AFTER THAT

- “Jean thought of Tetsuji and Riko and let the blows land unanswered.” well that majorly brought my mood down :(

- ““Oh,” Jeremy said, affecting surprise. “That’s rude, considering your current roster. I hope you apologize to them later.” JEREMY COMING IN HOT

nobody tell hinch there’s more than two queer people on the trojans team

- “He couldn’t fight Lander, so he did the only thing he could and slammed his racquet into his own shin guard with a one-handed swing.”

istg nora loves to inflict pain upon me

- YOU 😭WERE 😭INCREDIBLE 😭OUT 😭THERE😭

- god jere ur making ME blush with all these compliments i can’t imagine how jean feels…

- pls jeremy telling jean he is infinitely better than his opponent and then going oh god sorry idk what’s come over me that was so rude!

- cat getting so excited about jeans winning day comment is everything

- “i’ve never really been a Raven fan.” QUEEN DO NOT BE ASHAMED TO ADMIT THIS U CLOCKED THEIR BS

- “Butchering it was an understatement.” THE SNARK godddd no wonder i fucking love him and neil’s friendship so much

- THE GASP I JUST GUSPED!!!!! REACHER IS HERE????

-“I don’t owe you anything.” YES BABY UR LEARNING

- 😀 this is my face rn because my app reloaded before i could save this draft and i lost the last half of this post so now i have to go back and rewrite it all from my memory!!!

- i HATE u reacher

- “Jean registered Coach, Rhemann decked Zane hard enough to throw him. He looked ten feet tall as he towered over Zane’s crumpled body, radiating a rage he’d never once turned on his own players.” THANK UUUU COACH RHEMANN UR MY HERO PLS ACCEPT THIS TROPHY 🏆 AS A TOKEN IF MY GRATITUDE FOR DOING WHAT WE ALK WANTED TO DO AND PROTECTING JEAN

- umm hello??? DOES COACH RHEMANN HAVE A HUSBAND??? HES GAY???

- oh i’m sick to my stomach. i am crying rn this is veryyy hard to read. oh jean u didn’t deserve what they put u through. and u did what u had to do to survive.

for anyone who hasn’t read the books and is seeing this, i’d like to leave a trigger warning*** for jeans discussion of rape and him being forced to say that he liked it, and self harm (jean hitting himself in the head). the scene takes place during rhemann and jeans talk in the office after their first match (roughly page 348-351 on mobile app)

it is very difficult and confronting to read, if u know u are likely to get upset by the above topics, pls take care of urself. i’ll leave this with some very wise quotes from rhemann:

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter what you said. You were just a kid trying to survive as best you could. No one can blame you for that.”

“Repeat after me: I didn’t deserve what they did to me.”

- rhemann telling jean he’s safe and he’s got him and holding him tight as he breaks down goddddd they’re everything. this is what jean needs

(and i hate to make another tfc parallel but theyre always on my mind)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

- ok i took a break to process after that roller coaster, watched more mind numbing instagram reels and now im back! it is currently 12:47am, i have classes tomorrow but i have about 130 pages left and i am determined to read as much as i can before i pass out. let’s see how i go!

- once again i was right,, rhemann is gay!!

- “Seeing him like this was bewildering; Jean had foolishly believed Rhemann ceased to exist outside of Exy.” nah jean all exy coach’s actually get powered down and put onto charge post exy

- jean and rhemann: 🧑🏻‍🌾🥕👨🏻‍🌾

- “On the other was Neil’s blasé, “I’m sure he knows,” when Jean warned him to hide Andrew from Ichirou, the Trojans’ casual acceptance of their floozy line, and a partnership that somehow survived twenty-eight years in this heartless world.” STOPPPPPPPPP

- it’s easy to forget that aftg is set in the 2000s and not current, especially in these books because i don’t think they refer to it as much (neil and andrew literally use flip phones in the og books it’s hard to ignore that) until you are reminded of the rampant and virulent homophobia

- FRIENDS AND FIREWORKSSSSS

- “fathers” — jean thinking about rhemann and wymack and their unwavering kindness to him and adding fathers to his list in spite of how terrible his own dad is is something so precious. don’t play with me rn

-GOLDEN RAVEN MENTIONEDDDD

- um yeah so that’s as far as i got until i passed out only to wake back up at *checks time* 5am and find that this post didn’t save! hopefully i’ve managed to rewrite it all. onwards and upwards!!

i feel i rewrote those all with much more enthusiasm than i actually did the first time round after reading chapter 17

- unrelatedish side note but i was thinking about how their address got leaked and who it might be. i mean usually id immediately blame riko that’s the type of shit he’d do but he’s dead now soooo… do we reckon it’s a random nobody and we’ll never find out or someone close to the story? jeremy’s brother? another player?

- “Rhemann’s voice in his head, Rhemann’s and his friends’ and Neil’s, drowning out his miserable thoughts and excuses with unrelenting force.” yeah i’m grinning rn, he’s got so many people who love him and want the best for him and for him to heal

(and neil is one of them😭guys u know how i feel about neil and jean)

- “I deserve to get better.” IM CRYING AGAIN OH MY BABY U DO AND IM GLAD U REALISE IT

[visionsofyouandme]

𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Something lurks in the woods, ravenous and feared. Joel finds solace in a cabin, and in the belly of the beast herself.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 6.1k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: DDDNE. Joel Miller x afab!Reader. Post Outbreak. No Ellie. Dark!Reader. Spooky vibes. No use of ‘y/n’. Reader has no physical descriptions but has she/her pronouns. Age gap. fear of monsters in the woods. Blood. +18 MNDI DubCon (Joel is “under the influence”). Somnophilia? Smut. Dry humping. Unprotected P in v sex. Swapping bodily fluids as a ritual (you’ll see👀).

𝙰/𝙽: Soooo idk how this even came in my brain but god when I started I couldn’t stop. I wrote this for my own self indulgence and decided to share it, cause I know there’s some twisted MFers just like me out there LOL. So, if you’re sick like me and love this shit, I hope you enjoy<3 Alright. Let’s get down to it.

Here on AO3!

“Be careful in ‘them woods. A monster hunts there, worse than Infected. Get somewhere safe before dark.”

Joel wanted to scoff, but still heeded the old man’s warning. Having just left the safety of the old man’s cabin and into the Appalachian wilderness, Joel made his way through dense trees and stepped over protruding roots. He didn’t know exactly where he was until the old man had produced a map, showing Joel that he was still going in the right direction of Wyoming. Being somewhere in Tennessee, he got instructions from the old man to stay near the road, and it would lead him to a small, desolate community that was abandoned some time after the outbreak. He told Joel to not stop until he got to that little community, and to find a house to stay in. Shut the doors, let minimal light out of the house, and stay quiet.

Joel had strayed from the road in fear of roaming raiders and Infected. He was losing light fast, and tried to find his way back to the road, but felt sufficiently lost. This didn’t completely worry him, as he still headed in the direction the old man had given him. He did want to find somewhere to lay for the night, and the man’s words lingered in the back of his mind as Joel threw a look over his shoulder every so often. 

He finally set his sights on a small cabin, and after watching, saw no signs of life. Jogging to the safety of the porch, he nudged the door open with his rifle raised. Doing a quick sweep, he saw no signs that anyone or anything had been in there. There was still furniture standing- a kitchen table with chairs, a couch and armchair, what used to be a media console was now bare and dusted. He lowered his gun and did a better sweep of the house- looking in the pantry, in hallway closets, opening the closet doors in the upper bedrooms. He found clothes, bedding, blankets thicker than he had seen in a minute. In the pantry, he found canned food and figured he would finally have something other than sardines for once. 

Whoever was here before left a hell of a treasure trove. 

He made himself at home as best he could- stoking a fire in the fireplace, laying out blankets and pillows on the worn-out couch, setting his rifle in arms’ reach. He found a pot and cleaned it out to the best of his ability, putting one of the cans in there to heat up food and actually have a somewhat hearty meal for once. 

He set the small bowl aside, wiping his face. The solitude was not foreign to him, and he really didn’t mind it these days. Being on the road all alone kind of forced you to be content with yourself. 

Shifting his eyes to the open window, he stood up and walked to it, looking out. He remembered what the man said, and closed the curtains, even though night had fallen hours ago.

He found a book and struggled to read it in the dim light, but felt something make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Outside had gone quiet. Too quiet. No birds, no crickets, no rustling of wind in the trees. Until, he heard the softest cry.

“Open the door! Please, god- open the door!”

Distinctly female, Joel jumped to his feet and grabbed his rifle. He shifted the curtains and couldn’t see anything but darkness, and the voice that seemed to be drawing near. He ripped the door open, rifle raised until he saw a shape appear from the treeline.

“Stop!” he called, and the figure came to a screeching halt, nearly doubling over. Definitely human. Not Infected.

“Sir, please- there’s-” she said, and swiveled her head around behind her, but Joel heard nothing. A million thoughts flew through his mind, and he gave a strangled huff and lowered the gun, nodding at her viciously to come inside. She shot out like a bullet, and as she drew nearer, he could see her features grow more clear. When she barreled inside, he shut the door tightly and looked out the window into the night.

“What was it? Infected? Raiders?” he said, and turned his head to the panting mess of a woman behind him, who cowered by the couch. She looked at him, eyes wide with fear, and shook her head minutely. 

“N-no. Not- I don’t know.” she said, her voice small, trembling. He huffed, and looked outside, and quickly shut the curtains even tighter. 

Shut the doors, let minimal light out of the house, and stay quiet.

“Are you hurt?” he whispered, and she shook her head again. They stood on opposite ends of the room, assessing one another. Joel’s eyes cast down her- ratty clothes, gaunt features, bags under her eyes. She looked young and old at the same time- hard to pinpoint when you look like you’ve been to hell and back. He’s sure he looked similar.

“Who are you?” he questioned, his voice still low. Deep, sallow eyes watched him, and she whispered her name like it was a breeze. He nodded, offering up his own. 

“Joel,” she repeated, nodding like she was confirming it to herself. He nodded, and finally set his rifle down, raising his eyebrows and sighed heavily, the years suddenly tumbling onto his shoulders.

“Want something to eat?”

She was reluctant at first to eat, but he coaxed her into at least a can of chicken noodle soup. Even then, she didn’t eat much, her eyes moving between his like a frightened animal. He wondered if she regretted coming to the cabin for safety. 

He wasn’t much of a talker. He took the armchair, letting her stay on the couch. He looked at the fire as she pushed around the soup in the can, and he then looked at her a bit more closely in the firelight. She had bloodstains on her sleeves, her shirt. It didn’t look new, and he wondered how long she had been wandering with blood coating her thin shirt and jacket. 

“You… ya sure you’re not hurt?” he questioned, and she set the can down, looking over at him. 

“It’s not mine.” she said, regarding the blood, and Joel nodded. He leaned back in the chair, sighing with a bit of sympathy in his chest. In a world like this, everyone has lost someone. He just hated that someone like her- so delicate and fragile- had to be wrapped up in it, too.

“Where are you going?” she questioned, and Joel looked towards the fire. Did he really want to implicate himself in this? He didn’t owe her anything. But, he felt bad, sitting in silence. He cleared his throat, and shrugged, deciding to keep things vague.

“West. Hear there’s some people survivin’ out there.” he said, and she nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. The air was chilly, even with the fire, like life was being sucked right out of it. Joel stood up and put another log on the fire, twisting things this way and that to bring it to life again. When he sat back down, he could see her gaze still on him. Unwavering, cautious.

“Where are you from?” she questioned. Curious thing she is, he thought. No use in hiding, though. 

“Well, born and raised in Texas. After the world went to hell… well. That’s where things get blurry.” he said, and shook his head like it would erase the memory of life at the QZ. She nodded, and he felt a little uneasy under her gaze. He refused to give in to her, though, and kept his gaze on the fire. 

“What about you? Where ya going?” he questioned, trying to shift the course of the conversation away from him. 

“Was supposed to be going north. Canada.” she said, and he nodded, sighing deeply. He didn’t know shit about the situation up there, but he knew it couldn’t be much better than here in the states. 

“You lost your people on the way?” he questioned, and glanced at her at that moment. Surprisingly, her gaze was locked on the fire, the flames castng eerie shadows on her features. His eyebrows furrowed, and he could see something move over her face. Regret, maybe? Fear?

Giving Joel a slight nod, his suspicions were confirmed, but also put him at ease. She was alone. Good. Meant that there wasn’t much for stragglers, or worry that someone was waiting to ambush him. He nodded in response, and looked her over again.

“I have a spare shirt, if you wanna get out of that.” he said, nodding to her attire. She looked at him, a bit of gratefulness in her eyes and nodded. The exchange was quick- she left to the bathroom and emerged with his (very faded) navy blue shirt and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Settling back onto the couch, she looked at Joel and mumbled a thanks. He nodded, waving his hand dismissively. But, it felt nice to have someone to take care of again. After losing Tess, he felt pretty lost, the only hope driving him was that he may see his brother again. Or die trying to get to him. 

He heard her shift and saw her back turned to him as she lay on the couch. He sighed, his rifle next to his leg and he felt himself slowly succumbing to sleep, despite his best efforts to stay vigilant and keep watch.

When he awoke, it was dark.

Not just dark- but pitch black.

The fire had apparently gone out, and all Joel could see that offered light was the last dying embers of the fire. He began to sit up, his back groaning in protest, but he suddenly felt a heaviness on his chest. Not from anxiety, but like a light pressure trying to keep him down. He grunted, but felt a warm breeze fan his face, the scent sweet but tangy. 

“It’s okay, Joel,” a voice cooed softly. Warmth pressed against his face, and he turned to it out of pure instinct. A hand that was warm and soft like velvet brushed against his skin. Comforting. 

“Rest. It’s going to be just fine.” The voice was encouraging, soft and sweet and utterly enticing. His thoughts strayed to her, and wondered if it was she who was speaking to him now. Why was she so close? Why did she move from the couch? How was she making it so easy for him to… Fall… Back…. Asleep……..

When he awoke, he was covered in a blanket, the curtains drawn back, and the fire roaring steadily in front of him. He frowned, shifting in the armchair and looked around. His gun still sat at his side, and his eyes scanned the room for the girl. But, she wasn’t on the couch. In fact, it was her blanket that was draped over him. 

He called out her name, and sat up, rubbing his chest where he thought he could still feel warmth pressed there. Had he imagined all of that? Had it been a dream? It felt like one, but at the same time, could have been mistaken for an experience teetering on the edge of dream and reality. 

He grabbed his rifle, but heard a voice-

“Oh! You’re awake.” 

He turned to see her standing in the hallway, and she looked a bit better in the daytime. When she stepped out of the darkness of the hallway and to the living room, he could see she was definitely looking better- not as sallow, cheeks a bit more rosy, eyes a bit more relaxed. She still wore his shirt, and he nodded, wincing at the pain that shot through his neck. He reached up and rubbed it carefully, like he slept on it wrong. She frowned,

“Are you alright?” she questioned, and Joel nodded, and pushed the blanket off of him to stand but suddenly became lightheaded, the floor coming to meet him rather quickly. He heard her cry out his name as he fell. and felt her warm touch on his arm, pulling him onto his back. He blinked, looking up at the ceiling, and then her face that hovered over him. She was mumbling something, hands tracing over his chest like she was trying to find something wrong.

Warmth. Hands. Pressure.

That dream was starting to feel a little more real.

“Joel? Can you hear me?” she questioned worriedly, and he coughed to clear his throat that felt like it was closing up.

“Y-Yeah. Can you- help me up.” he said, his question turning to a soft demand, and she put her arm under his own and helped him to a sitting position. She broke away and handed him his canteen that he swiftly downed, the room finally stopped spinning.

Guess that canned food wasn’t as good as he thought.

He looked at her and could see worry etched across her features, and he smiled gently.

“S’alright. Must have had some bad food last night.” he said, and she nodded, though the concern didn’t leave her face. 

“Come on. Let’s get you to the couch.” she said, and helped him to his feet. He was thankful he didn’t have to walk far, and nearly collapsed onto the couch had it not been for her strong hold on him. He blinked, and looked at her, suddenly feeling exposed. Raw. Open.

He couldn’t afford to be sick with someone new in his sights. What if others showed up? What if she tried to rob him of his things and leave? He shouldn’t have ever fallen asleep. He should have stayed awake, and tried to have kept watch. Something. Anything.

“Here, I'll heat you up something.” she said quickly, and stood up to pick up the can of chicken noodle soup she had barely touched last night. Joel was too tired to care or worry if she had done anything to it, and she returned what seemed like hours later with the can and the spoon. She helped him sit up and he took it gingerly, beginning to shovel it into his mouth. She watched him warily, and tilted her chin down to study him more. 

“Whatever it is, you need to rest. You won’t survive out there without being able to stand.” she said quietly, and he nodded, hating he had to agree with her. He needed time to recover from whatever the hell it was that had a hold on him, whether he liked it or not.

Fuck, he thought. He gave the woman a passing glance. He didn’t know if he could trust her entirely, but he didn’t have a choice.

He was stuck with her whether he liked it or not.

He felt better over the course of the day. He was able to walk outside with her, and she pointed out a stream nearby where they collected water and boiled it to refill their canteens. Joel had eventually taken off his boots and laid up on the couch. He felt lazy, and was disgusted with himself. He had never taken a day off in the 20 years since the outbreak. Even if he got sick in the QZ he’d pop a pill or two and sleep it off, getting up the next day and going back to work.

This “break” felt forced. He hated it.

But her, on the other hand… he was somewhat grateful for someone to talk to for once. Seeing as he had nothing better to do, and couldn’t concentrate on reading, he focused on her. Asking her questions, keeping things light. She kept things vague, and he couldn’t blame her. When she questioned him, he did the same. They were guarded, watching each other, trying to see if the other was trustworthy. 

And by the way she diligently took care of him, even if he was a stranger to her, he was starting to believe she was just a fellow human desperate for human connection. 

She sat on the armchair that he had vacated early that morning as he sat up on the couch. With water and some food in his system, he felt better. She entertained him with a story about her former party- something about a friend formulating a new game to entertain children with as they traveled. When he heard that, his heart fell into his stomach. She had been around a decent group then, and a family at that- he was jealous. But also deeply, deeply sad for her. She talked about them fondly, and he could see a sad glint in her eyes. He felt a pull to reach out and comfort her. 

That distracted him for a moment. Why was he so… caring for her? He wasn’t a touchy-feely guy. Never one to encourage physical touch, or any kind of intimate moment. His days of softness were long gone, so this surprised him. 

“I hope they’re okay, wherever they are.” she said at the closing of her story, pulling at the frayed edge of the blanket that lay next to her on the armchair. He nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. Hoping that whatever kind of peaceful afterlife there was, that all of those people he loved and cherished were there.

Nightfall came, and Joel knelt next to the fire, shifting the sticks to make the fire burn a bit brighter. She had somehow found some firewood, probably by former inhabitants, and they were using that to heat up the cabin living room. 

“Here, i’ll take the chair-” Joel said gruffly, turning to stand and he saw her looking at him with a hard expression. She cocked an eyebrow, and he did the same.

“Joel,” she said sternly like a mother disciplining their child. “You need to actually rest, okay? I know that’s a tough notion to wrap your head around, but still.”

“We can alternate, then.” he said, trying to figure out a compromise. Another first for him- compromising was not in his blood. But, he wanted to appease both of them. “You can take the couch, and I’ll take the armchair. Tomorrow-”

“Joel, take the damn couch.” she said, her tone not unkind but softly demanding. Like the wind had been knocked out from underneath him, he sat down onto it with a grunt. He shook his head, and she smiled. In the dim firelight, her teeth looked oddly white and straight. This was probably the first genuine smile he had seen from her, and it was radiant. 

He sighed, trying to show his disdain for giving in, and she shook her head with that same smile, looking towards the fire. He looked to the window where the curtains had been drawn again, and he could hear the sounds of the night beyond them. He sighed, sliding his boots off and threw his body onto the couch. He pulled the blanket halfway over him, his hand over his stomach. He could barely get the words out to bid her goodnight as his eyes fell shut and he floated away from reality. 

He must have been dreaming. There couldn’t be any other explanation.

He felt the warm heaviness on him again. This time it felt like it was straddling his waist, the same warm hands on his chest. Arousal twisted in his stomach, and his hips shifted involuntarily, meeting something solid and warm.

He hadn’t had a sex dream in a long while, hell, probably years-

He opened his eyes, the ceiling dark but discernible in the dying firelight. The warm heaviness covered him, and his neck felt sore again. His hand reached up, and found a warm, clothed waist.

Sensing movement from the corner of his eye, a head lifted. It was her, and she looked surprised. Her mouth was covered in some kind of dark substance, hard to tell in the light that was barely there, her lips dark with it as it trailed down her chin. Her hand smoothed over his chest, and she smiled sweetly, noticing the smallest bit of teeth exposed from under her upper lip. 

“You’re okay,” she cooed quietly, and he felt warm fingertips brush his lips. Feeling a soft roll of her hips, he groaned softly. Whatever this dream was, it was both thrilling and terrifying. “It’s okay, Joel. Go back to sleep, I’ve got you,” and her head moved back down from his view, and he felt the ghost of warm lips on his neck.

With no other choice and no strength to fight it, his hand dropped from her waist and complete darkness overtook him again.

When he awoke, the sun was barely peeking through the curtains, and he felt heavy, his head spinning like he was drunk. He shifted, trying to bring feeling into his limbs again, and he smelled something oddly appealing. 

Meat.

He slowly sat himself up right and saw the fire was still going steadily, more firewood sitting next to the fireplace. He heard movement behind him and turned to look back but winced, rubbing his neck, feeling like the muscle was spasming. He pulled his legs off the couch, and rubbed his eyes. When they cleared, he looked to the kitchen to see her at the kitchen table, canteens sitting and a plate of food waiting. She was pouring over a book, and he stood up slowly, his joints cracking lightly and making him wince.

She looked up at the sound and smiled, closing her book. 

“Made you something,” she said cheerily. He nodded, craning his neck to see what was on the table. “Got a squirrel this morning, hope you don’t mind I used your rifle. I don’t know how to set traps, so…” she said, and he walked over to the kitchen table slowly, settling in the seat. Shooting her a look, he wondered how the hell he slept through the shot. Was he really that tired?

He could see some vegetables from a can that were steaming next to the seared meat. His stomach grumbled, and he quickly took the (somehow clean?) fork and dug in. He realized he probably looked like an animal, and slowed down, his eyes raising to her. She grinned, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“Good, isn’t it?” She laughed, and he nodded, swallowing.

“Sorry.” He murmured, a bit ashamed of his lack of manners. She laughed, and shook her head,

“No, it’s okay. I had some food myself before you woke up. You should have seen me… Probably looked like a monster or an animal or something.” She laughed, and he grunted in response, continuing to eat. Feeling like life was literally coming back to him, he sat up and back. He regarded her with a guarded expression, trying to piece together what his dream meant. He could still feel the impression of hands on him, and he rubbed his chest absentmindedly.

“How are you feeling?” she questioned, and he shrugged, looking out the kitchen window that showed the sun was high in the sky. How long had he been asleep?

“Fine.” he said, rubbing his face and letting it fall into his lap. She nodded, and picked up the plate and fork, walking over and setting it in the sink like she was a dutiful housewife performing tasks. He half expected her to turn on the water and wash it. But, she turned and faced him, smiling lightly.

“You look better.” she noted, nodding to him. He scoffed, and shook his head, wincing at his neck pain again.

“Wish I felt as good as I look, then.” he said, rubbing his neck absentmindedly. She watched him, tilting her head to the side. She pushed off the counter, and walked over to him. She gestured to him, like she was asking permission to help. He looked at her and frowned,

“I don’t need- I’m fine. It’s alright.” he said, waving her off and she rolled her eyes, scoffing.

“Don’t be such a man. It’s okay to accept help every once in a while.” she said, and walked behind him. He shifted uneasily, and then felt her hands on his shoulders. Light, careful… warm.

He tensed when she began to rub, and she laughed lightly,

“Joel, if you don’t relax, you won’t help yourself.” she said, and he frowned down into his lap, and willed himself to relax. But, he just couldn’t. The thought of someone being so near, and a woman at that- he was just a man, after all. She worked at a particular knot in his shoulder and he flinched. He felt her shift behind him, and as she leaned forward, he could feel her face nearly against his ear.

“Relax.” she breathed quietly, and like a switch had flipped, he sunk into the chair. It felt like he was weightless- floating in the ocean, carried wherever the tide took him. Not a care in the world. Nothing mattered in the moment- not the Infected that roamed outside, the threat of raiders, the overall state of the world- nothing. Just bliss.

He let out a soft sigh, his head lolling forward as she continued to rub at his shoulders, her lithe hands moving to his neck. He sighed as the warmth enveloped him, feeling almost hot at this point- but the heat soothed his neck, making him even more lax. 

“Does that feel good?” she murmured, and he lifted his head slightly, mumbling a “yeah.” He could feel her hands working at his neck delicately, like she wasn’t massaging anymore but just… feeling. He really had been deprived of human connection, human touch, that he let out a soft moan.

His eyes opened gently, and he saw her kneeling in front of him, her eyebrows knitted in concern. She was calling his name, back down from the cloud he had been floating on. He blinked, and she put a hand on his knee.

“I think you dozed off.” she laughed lightly, and he looked at her, then the hand on his knee. He cleared his throat, sitting up straight but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her hand. She didn’t move it, even as he tried to regain composure.

“Yeah, uh… you must have magic hands.” he said, and she grinned. If he thought her teeth were bright and straight last night, it was even more so apparent today. And her lips were a deeper shade, like she had been putting on lipstick or receiving too many kisses. He swallowed.

She stood up slowly, and he watched her with soft brown eyes. He felt rooted in the chair, caught in her orbit. She nudged his knees apart gently, and he spread them dutifully, leaning back in the chair with a heavy stare. She tilted her head to the side, her hand moving out to touch his chest. He raised his hand, placing it over hers as it pressed over his steadily beating heart. She smiled, and he felt utterly entranced. Every movement was slow, graceful. He didn’t even notice when she settled into his lap, her other hand moving to the back of his neck. 

His free hand moved to her waist, where it held her gently. She was silent as the grave, but her body language and gaze spoke volumes. He could see this look in her eyes- soft, sultry, and maybe a bit pitiful. He raised his hand from his chest to her face, where he cupped her cheek gently. He leaned up slowly, like he was trying to emulate her easy movements, and she bent her head to meet him halfway, joining their lips in a kiss. 

The hand that rested on the back of his neck became firm, her hand curling up and holding his hair at the base of his neck. She leaned into the kiss and he sucked in a breath through his nose, feeling a hunger come over him. His hand on her waist became possessive, grabbing her and pulling her close and he heard her gasp softly against his lips. 

“What do you want?” he whispered against her lips as he went between kissing them and hovering over them. His jeans grew tight in his lap, and he could feel her smirk against his lips, giving her hips a roll. He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing and he pulled her down to guide her movements. 

“You,” she murmured, moving to kiss his cheek, his cheekbone, then jaw. He sighed, his eyes falling shut at her warm lips pressing against him. “I want all of you.”

When she moved to his neck, she lay a few careful kisses on the skin, moving to his pulse point. He grit his teeth, bringing her pelvis down to his to grind against him, his cock harder than it had been in years. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, taking her face back in his hand and crashing his lips against hers. She leaned into him, moving her hips in a way that made him moan. His hands found their way under her thighs and in a moment of sheer strength and lust, he lifted her up and carried her to the couch.

He lay her back on it and she huffed, looking up at him with glassy eyes and a smirk on those pretty lips. Her eyes moved down his chest, and he began to undo the buttons of his flannel, not even needing her to ask. She pushed herself up as he let it slide off his shoulders, pulling his undershirt off not too long after. She raised a hand, pressing against his stomach, up to his sternum, then chest. He leaned down to her and her hand snaked around his neck, pulling him towards her. He crawled over top of her, and she smiled, kissing his lips deeply. 

He sighed into her mouth, and ground his hips against hers. Hand moving up her side, under her shirt, he reveled in her warmth. She pulled away to pull her shirt off, and he was surprised to see nothing underneath. Fine by him, since he dove in and took a nipple into his mouth, giving it a hard suck. She whined, her hand curling in his hair again. He grunted in response to her flexing against his hair, and he bit down on it with just enough pressure to make her gasp, her hips lifting to his.

“Joel…” she whispered, her voice sounding familiar. Comforting.

He moved to her other breast, his hand moving up to fondle the other that he had abandoned. He laved against her skin, tasting her sweetness and soft, supple body. Everything about her seemed magical, other worldly- like she was an angel coming down to please him and him only.

He breathed her name into her skin, trailing kisses up her breast, her chest, her neck, her jaw. She whined in response again, and it only made the hardness in his jeans a bit more unbearable. He felt a tug at his waistband, and he undid her jeans, sliding them down and he stood to rid himself of his own pants. When his cock sprung free, hard and red and weeping with precome, she looked like she could salivate on the spot.

With their bodies now fully exposed, Joel settled between her legs, his hips grinding against hers. His cock brushed her slick core, and her body twitched in response. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, just thinking that she was just so wet. And all for him? He was a lucky man.

He felt her hand move down his side, then to his front where it wrapped around his cock. He sucked in a breath, feeling stiff and like he needed a release as quickly as possible. She dragged his cock over her pussy, and he shuddered. She looked up at him, pulling him up to meet her gaze.

“You want this,” she asked, but it ended up sounding more like a statement. He looked at her with a pleading expression, nodding gently, and she smiled like she had won the lottery. She kissed him deeply, and lined him up against her core. Without much more encouragement, he slipped inside her. 

Their chorus of moans echoed around the room, and Joel’s hips began to move as if on their own accord. He was completely out of this world by now- he didn’t feel like he was in control of his body. He felt like he was just sitting inside, feeling, and watching it happen. 

But god, was it not all so fucking good. Every sense was afire, his skin feeling as hot as the surface as the sun. He even began to collect sweat on his forehead, and down his spine.

He moved his hips against hers, dipping his head into the curve of her neck, laying soft kisses there. She tensed beneath him, and it caused his hips to falter just a bit, his cock twitching within her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and was able to take him deeper. He felt like his arms would give out from holding himself up with the way she twitched and moved her hips against his. The way his tip hit her cervix was making him tense. He felt her lips on his neck again, and he gripped the blanket beneath them so much his knuckles turned white with pressure. 

“God- goddamn.” he huffed against her skin, and he could feel her grin against his skin, laying a soft kiss on the side of his neck.

“God has nothing to do with us.” she said quietly, and he nodded, feeling like he was going to combust. His movements got more erratic, more frantic, the couch shifting beneath them as Joel continued his assault on her body. 

“I’m gonna- fuck-” he choked out, and she kept her legs tightly around him, feeling her heels dig into his ass. 

“It’s okay, baby. Let go.” she whispered, and he could feel the pressure rising in his lower stomach, and then suddenly it was as if a dam had burst. His hot spend began to release in her womb, and he then felt a pinch on his neck, lightheadedness coming over him. 

“It’s alright,” she cooed, and he somehow managed to keep thrusting into her through his high, panting into her neck. He felt warmth run down his shoulder, and her hand moved to his back to keep him against her. Her hand that lay on his neck curled in, keeping him locked in place. 

He didn’t know what came over him, but he turned his face to her neck and bit down. Hard.

She cried out, her body spasming around him and he almost came again, tasting something bitter and of iron on his tongue. Her body convulsed around him, and his hips were slowing down. Her head stayed pressed against his neck, that pain he felt turning into a dull throb. She laid her head back down, and he pulled away to see blood drip onto her chest from his lips. 

He panted, looking down at her as she looked up at him with stars in her eyes, her lips tinged with red that dripped from the corners of her mouth. He leaned down and kissed her there, licking up the liquid and hearing her sigh against him softly. He pulled out of her at last, his spend dripping out of her weeping hole. He collapsed on top of her, but managed to keep one arm up to keep looking at her. Her hand moved to his parted red lips and swiped the blood from his lower lip gently. 

She raised her finger in her mouth and licked, smiling up at him. Her hand moved to touch his cheek, bringing his forehead against hers as he panted, trying so hard to not pass out.

“I have been waiting for you.” she whispered, and he could only look at her in awe. She really was beautiful- exquisite. Ethereal. Divine. Like she didn’t belong amongst unremarkable, average humans.

He wouldn’t know this now, but when the next day would break, things would be different. Very, very different. Almost alarmingly so. 

But for now, he leaned his head into the crook of her neck that still seeped crimson, and pressed his lips there. He sighed, relaxed, and his eyes fell closed with the feeling of her hand moving steadily through his dark curls threaded with silver. 

Comment, like, reblog, anything is appreciated! Divider by @/saradika-graphics!

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

*slamming the table*

IF INSPIRATION STRIKES I NEED A PART 2 OF THE GHOST ONEEEEEE

In The Sight Of Ghosts: part 2 (18+)

TLR!Turtles (Michelangelo) x reader

Part 1 (Suggestive) (18+?)

A/N: *Slamming back on the table* Inspiration struck, so after a few days of writing, I have a part 2! Honestly, I think I can play around with this concept in many more stories to come. Stand alone one shots or something else, IDK. Only the future will tell. Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy🖤

Mikey is in his 40’s. The reader is in their early 20’s. Leo, Raph and Donnie are in their early to mid 20’s.

Warnings: Raph being gross I guess, age difference, mentioning of ghosts and dead brothers, ghost voyeurism, ghost instructions, ghost masturbation, spanking, doggy, mentioning of missionary, implied sex in the future. I think that was all, lol.

When Raph said he was going to find a way, he certainly meant it. It was now his personal goal to find a way to push Mikey over the limit in some way, so that he would - in Raph’s own words - finally dick out his frustrations. And he had no intentions of stopping, no matter how angry Mikey would get. No matter how hard Mikey tried to ignore him and his brothers. Raph just kept going. And it was always whenever you were around. Raph could never just leave you alone. Whenever you entered Mikey’s field of view, Raph was on you, doing some lewd acts that only Mikey and his brothers could see. If you passed Mikey in the hallway, Raph would make a show of making it look like he was about to pin you against the wall. If you stood somewhere in the room, Raph would walk up to you, and place his hands somewhere, making it look like he was groping you. Hands on your ass and chest, his ghost hands fondling you like an animal, smirking in the direction of Mikey and the others. And it made Mikey’s blood boil, trying his best not to watch as Raph acted like he was grinding your hips together in a lewd act. Mikey’s anger and frustration was so strong that even Leo and Donnie could see it.

“Maybe you should do it”, Donnie said, as Raph came with overplayed moans from the couch were you sat, holding your face and thrusting his hips like he was fucking your face, while you - totally unbothered - read the book in front of you. “You obviously find her interesting, and well… she is pretty”.

“Don’t you start as well”, Mikey groaned, just low enough so you wouldn’t hear it, leaning further down over the book that laid in front of him on the table.

“I’m only trying to help”, Donnie said, watching as Raph crouched down in front of you, trying to get a better look at your chest through your shirt. “And, well, if I was in your position, I might have done it by now”. That comment caused Mikey to give Donnie a look that could kill. Had Donnie actually been alive, this look might as well have been what killed him.

“Calm down, Mikey. Just ignore them”, Leo said, from his other side, with his shell facing the show Raph was trying to put on.

“You can’t ignore me forever”, Raph said, having taken a seat next to you on the couch, where he smoothed his hand over your hair, watching you like a predator would watch its prey. “Especially not the day when you start imagining my dick in her instead of yours”.

This comment seemed to trigger something within Mikey. If his blood was boiling, it was now bobbling over the lid. Mikey tried his best to restrain himself, but he just couldn’t, slamming the book in front of him shut, causing you to yelp in shock from the couch, looking at Mikey in shock. However Mikey avoided your eyes, quickly picking up the book from the table, before making his way to his room. You sat in confusion, watching as he left, unaware of the three ghosts that were hot on his heels, following him down the hallway.

He quickly hurried into his room before slamming the door behind him. With a growl he flung the book across the room, before slumping down on the bed, elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands.

“Seems like I touched a soft spot there”, Raph chuckled, earning him an eye roll from Leo.

“Just stop it, and leave her alone”, Mikey mumbled, still not looking up from the floor beneath him.

“Who are you talking to?”

Mikey flinched at the sound of your voice, looking up to find you in his doorway, slowly making your way into his room. The three ghosts stayed quiet, giving each other a look as if they knew something Mikey didn’t.

“No one”, Mikey said, rubbing his hands against the fabric of his overall. “Just… myself”.

“Ah”, you said, staying quiet for a moment. You looked at the door in thought, before you - to Mikey’s surprise - closed it. You turned and walked over to Mikey on the bed, before taking a seat next to him. This even made his brothers silent as they watched you with intent. Mikey felt his fingers getting clammy as he tried to avoid eye contact with you, suddenly finding the sight of the floor under his feet very interesting.

“Mikey… have I done something wrong?”, you suddenly asked, catching Mikey off guard. But the next part almost made his heart stop. “I’ve noticed you… looking at me. You seem… mad… So I was wondering if I did something”.

Mikey finally looked at you, staring directly into your beautiful eyes, feeling a pit opening in his stomach. It was never his intention… He never wanted you to think it was you he looked at… Oh god no…

“No”, Mikey said, shaking his head, ignoring Raph who started moving around out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not mad at you. You haven’t done anything wrong”.

“Then why are you looking at me… like you are?”, you asked, your voice so small it almost broke Mikey’s heart.

“It’s hard to explain… But I’m not mad at you, and I never have been, (Y/N)”.

You placed a hand on Mikey’s knee, almost making him choke on his own breath as he did so. It was then he noticed just how close you were to him. How you had been leaning closer, ever since you first took a seat next to him. The revelation made his heart beat hard and fast behind his plastron. That was when he noticed a smell. A wonderful smell taking over the room. What was that smell? Whatever it was, he wanted more of it.

“Can you at least try to explain it?”, you asked, your voice low and soft, sounding smooth in Mikey’s ear.

“I’m not sure how”, Mikey said, suddenly finding himself very fixated on your lips. How soft they looked and just how close they were. Just a little further, and he might just be able to… god, he really wanted to…

“You don’t have to use words”, you whispered, sending shivers throughout Mikey’s body.

“Kiss her”, Raph's voice suddenly sounded from somewhere to the side. “Come on Mikey. Kiss her”.

Mikey found himself continuously staring down at your lips, contemplating whether or not he should do it. It was so tempting. So tempting…

“He’s right, Mikey”, Leo said. “Do it. Kiss her”.

And with that, Mikey slowly leaned in, closing the gap between the two of you, connecting your lips in a soft kiss. You kissed him back less than a second later, turning your sweet kiss passionate in an instant, with one of your hands coming up to rest on Mikey’s plastron. The wonderful smell in the room grew stronger as Mikey’s big hands came to a rest on your hips, before slowly making their way up.

“You smell that?”, Donnie asked, sniffing around the room.

“Uuuh, she likes it”, Raph laughed. “Give her some tongue, Mikey. I bet she will love it”.

And finally, Mikey allowed himself to do as Raph told him, poking at your lips with his larger tongue, asking for entrance, while one of his hands came to rest on your cheek. You reacted with a sound, much closer to a moan than anything else, opening your mouth and granting him access. Without breaking the kiss you then rose ever so slightly from the bed, before making your way onto Mikey’s lap, straddling him as he leaned further into your increasingly needy kiss, letting small sounds of pleasure escape you.

“Shit”, Mikey heard Donnie mumble as he took in the sight before them, before taking a seat on a chair in the opposite side of the room.

Mikey placed his hands on your bottom as you slowly grinded yourself against him, allowing him to control and increase the speed at which you did it, your breathing becoming heavier and heavier.

“I knew she would be hot”, Raph said, taking a seat at the foot of the bed, so he could get a better look at you.

You then suddenly broke from the kiss, making Mikey fear for a moment that you had been able to hear Raph. But when you then reached for your shirt before pulling it off and throwing it across the room, letting it fly straight through Leo’s form, leaving your top half in nothing but an old see through bra, leaving very little to Mikey’s imagination. You gave Mikey a bright smile, before diving back down into your needy kiss, moaning against his mouth as one of his hands came to massage your breasts. Your hands started fumbling with the straps of Mikey’s overalls in order to undo them. Mikey’s hands moved from your chest to your pants, where he started pulling them down one leg after the other, before throwing them onto the chair Donnie was sitting on. You sat back down on Mikey’s lap, grinding against him once more, with your smell of arousal stronger than ever before. Mikey could feel himself as he was about to drop inside of his overalls, his thick member already aching to be inside of you.

“Time to see if that ass jiggles”, Raph said, his own hand groping at the forming bulge in his pants. And so Mikey did, letting his large hand come down on your left ass cheek with a loud smack, causing you to yelp out loud in pleasure.

“Mikey!”, you cried, letting your head fall to rest against his shoulder. “Please, Mikey, please”.

“Fuck”, Leo groaned, finding himself completely absorbed by what he was watching. “What’s she begging for?”

“Please what, (Y/N)?”, Mikey asked, smoothing his hand over where he had just slapped you.

“Please just fuck me, Mikey!”, you begged.

“Holy shit”, Donnie exclaimed from his chair, where he too had started to feel himself through his pants, all while Leo stood in total silence, his eyes fixated on you and your movements.

“Tell her to get naked”, Raph said, getting ready to pull himself out of his pants. “Ass up”.

Mikey did just as Raph had told him, and gave your ass another smack, before telling you to get naked and get on the bed. You stood up with no hesitation, taking your bra and underwear off in eagerness, before getting on your knees and elbows on Mikey’s bed, unaware that you were facing directly towards Raph.

Mikey made quick work of his overalls, taking in the way your eyes widened when you saw his member spring free from its confinements. And if it was even possible, the scent of your arousal grew stronger once more. Mikey got behind you on the bed, taking in the sight of your juice cunt before him, already feeling dizzy at the thought of you around him. The sight of you, mixed with your scent and under wonderful sounds, Mikey felt his own urge and need growing within him, getting more and more desperate to feel you clench around him.

Mikey placed a hand on your left cheek, before grabbing a hold of his member with the other, guiding it through your folds, picking up your slickness as he went, before giving your ass a sudden slap, causing you to let out another needy moan, begging him once again, your hands gripping onto the sheets of his bed beneath you.

“Please, Mikey! Please!”

With a groan at the sound of your begging, Mikey began pushing himself into your tight hole, moaning when he felt your walls tightening around him. You let out a flurry of lewd sounds as you took in Mikey’s massive size, sinking further and further into you. Mikey’s eyes were glued to the sight of his member slowly disappearing into you, using his hold on your hips to sink you further along his length. However, should Mikey have taken his eyes off of you and looked to Raphael, he would have found the ghost with his member in his hand, slowly working his hand along it as he focused in on your pleasured expression. At the other side of the room, Donnie too was about to wrap his own hand around his member, eyes intently locked on you. Leo was the only one that still hadn’t opened or pulled off his pants, yet his dilated and hungry eyes never left you.

Mikey stayed still inside of you, letting you get used to his impressive size. But when you started wiggling and swaying your hips in front of Mikey, showing him just how needy and inpatient you were getting.

“Ask her what she wants”, Leo suddenly said, his voice low as he spoke, obviously affected by what he was watching.

Mikey started rubbing your behind, keadling you flesh in his large hands. “What do you want me to do, (Y/N)?”, he asked, taking joy in how you started shaking in his hands. “Use your words”.

“Please, just move, Mikey”, you whimpered, trying to back yourself up against him. “Move. Fuck me. Use me”.

“Holy shit. She’s a freak”, Raph said in a smug tone, his hand speeding up ever so slightly. “She deserves a good fucking”.

Mikey’s hand came down on your cheek once more, drawing a loud moan from you once more, clenching further around him. “Of course, when you ask me so nicely”, Mikey said, slowly pulling himself halfway out of you. “I’m going to fuck you untill you can’t walk or talk anymore”. And before you could react to Mikey’s words, he rammed directly back into you. You let out a moan like scream, your face falling to your mattress with your eyes closed and Mikey continued thrusting into you, bringing you large sparks of pleasure with each thrust into you.

Donnie cursed under his breath, his hand moving faster against himself. Raph stared at you with parted lips and hungry eyes, dreaming of what it would feel like to be the one fucking you from behind. Leo still stood with crossed arms and an intense look on his eyes, when suddenly…

“She wants to be used, Mikey”, Leo said. “Spank her again. Show her she’s being used”.

And Mikey did, drawing an almost animalistic sound of pleasure from you when his hand made contact with your skin once more.

“And it continues to jiggle”, Raph chuckled, watching your flesh bounce with every slap, and every time Mikey thrusted against it.

You rested your forehead against your right forearm, reaching down between your legs with your left hand, where you let your fingertips glide over your clit, rubbing it as Mikey increased his speed on you, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room, bouncing against the stone walls.

“Mikey, I’m close”, you whimpered, your legs getting shaky underneath you.

“Let it happen, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned, keeping his brutal speed as he fucked you closer and closer to your orgasm.

"Grab her hair”, Donnie’s voice sounded, his voice somewhat wavering from his hand’s work on his member. “Let us see her face”.

And so Mikey did as asked, and grabbed a firm grip at the base at the roots of your hair, before pulling your head up and back from the mattress. This resulted in a clearing of your vocal ways, causing you to get much louder. Your back naturally arched downwards, causing you to back up against Mikey, making each of his thrusts into you much harder than the last. Your hands frantically grabbed for the sheets beneath you, trying to hold onto something as your high came rolling, threatening to crash into you at any moment, your moans coming out as begging like screams.

The ghosts watched you with intensity, trying to match the movements of their hands to the speed at which you where getting fucked, imagining themselves in Mikey’s place, taking you from behind. Leo shifted his legs where he stood, as if trying to act like he wasn’t getting affected by the sight before him. Like he wasn’t imagining how you would feel around him, screaming that you were about to cum.

“I’m cumming!”, you yelled out, your hips squirming against the snaps of Mikey’s hips, as he continuously hit your sweet spot with no signs of slowing down. “I’m cumming, Mikey!”

“Cum for me, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned. “Cum on my cock. Show me how good I’m fucking you”.

And so you did, your orgasm coming crashing down upon you, your walls clenching around Mikey as he continued to pound into you. Raph and Donnie let out audible groans at the sight and sound of you, taking in all of your beauty and raw pleasure. If only they could be the ones making you feel such pleasure, and have you squirming and moaning at the end of their cocks.

Letting go of your hair, Mikey let you fall back down to the mattress, moaning as you felt the waves of your high still washing over you. Slowing down his thrusts, Mikey kept himself up above you, slowly pushing in and out of you, savoring the feeling of you around him. Even from his few of your back and the side profile of your face, you were beautiful, shining in the light of your slowly subsiding orgasm.

Slowly Mikey pulled out of you, his member still fully erect, begging to be buried within you again. No matter how much Mikey wanted to keep going, and fuck you further into oblivion, releasing himself into you, Mikey decided against it. You were probably tired and in need of a break. He could wait. Your comfort was more important than his pleasure. He couldn’t force you-.

“Mikey”, you whimpered from below him, looking over your shoulder with pink cheeks and disheveled hair, out of breath with a sultry smile on your lips as you lifted your ass up against him, as if to present yourself for him once more. “Please don’t stop now, Mikey”.

Mikey was shocked. Extremely turned on but shocked. And judging from the choked sounds of Raph and Donnie, so were they, not expecting you to still have energy for more. Leo seemed to be the only one that wasn’t shocked.

“You heard her”, Leo said, arms still crossed with a stern look on his face. “Get her on her back and give her what she wants”.

Leo didn’t have to say that twice. Mikey was quick to grab a hold of one of one leg and one arm, flipping you onto your back in one throw. You yelped, followed by laughter, laying fucked, naked and smiling before Mikey, your legs open and inviting for him. And it was at this moment, staring down at your beautiful body, just before diving straight back into you again, that Mikey wondered why he waited so long. Why he had let Raph get his blood boiling for so long, instead of just taking you straight in the kitchen all those days ago. But now, he wasn’t going to let another opportunity go. So there, right in front of the ghostly forms of his brothers, Mikey fucked you right into the matteress, determinded to make up for the many days he had waited, before feeling your warm cunt around him and your desperate moans in his ear.

And so, you and Mikey continued your lewd dance of arms and legs tangled together, all in front of the watchful eyes of Mikey’s dead brothers, long into the night and again the next morning, and many more occasions to come.

[thebibliosphere]

Hi! How are you doing? Sorry to bother you, but i dont know many scottish people and idk who to talk to about this book I found on audible. It's called Imogène, by french author Charles Exbrayat. Do you know him /the book? I've started reading it but I had to pause because, while being sold as a "humorous spy story" I find the protagonist, a "very proudly scottish" woman, to be... an offensive caricature? Like she acts like a fool, honestly. This book contains some interesting points about sexism (it was published in 1959), and ridiculous british habits (such as employees forced to give money for princess anna's birthday or being socially scorned). I'm sure the shared dislike / distrust the protagonist and her british colleagues feel are (were?) realistic. But she is so extra, and the story keeps telling how lonely she is, even after working 20 years in london. She has No friends, most acquitances dont talk to her for various motivations, her bosses hates her ... idk I feel this book is actually mocking scottish people? Or scottish women??? I was SO there for a "strong woman protagonist who gives cutting remarks to her boss or peers", but this looks wrong. Idk. I didnt know whom ask for inputs. Maybe i'm reading too much into it. Feel free to ignore this mega rant. Have a good day!

I think cultural and historical context and time of publication-- which was almost 70 years ago --are important factors to take into consideration when we look at fiction through our current expectations.

I can’t speak to the book as I’ve never read it, but speaking as a Scots woman who worked for an English publishing house for a while, being made to feel alienated by my boss and others due to being Scottish was unfortunately still something going on in 2011.

I’d get lots of “Oh but you sound so eloquent” remarks regarding my thinned-out accent (something I did on purpose to avoid being told to “speak properly” which was also something I heard a lot in school if I ever used my native Scots language instead of “Queen’s English.”) and one time my boss referred to me as “their civilized Scot” to an American author, whose Scottish romance book I was supposed to be fixing the dialogue on.

The phrasing was along the lines of, “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to understand her. Joy is our civilized Scot.”

The author laughed and made another derogatory comment about how they just loved Scottish accents even if it was unintelligible a lot of the time. I kept my mouth shut because I didn't want to lose my first career job.

I kept my mouth shut a lot in that job.

In that regard I could very well empathize with the character being lonely and not engaging with anyone, even after 20 years.

The proud Scottish woman can be a bit of a caricature, but that doesn't necessarily mean it is intended as mocking.

Again, cultural/historical context matters.

I wasn’t alive in 1959, but I know there was a lot of Scottish media about the time that leaned into the stubbornness and pride of Scots women both for humor and to make societal commentary on the fact that women were strong and more independent than they’d ever been following two world two and a lot of men weren’t happy about it and wanted them to go back into their boxes. As a result the mouthy, proud Scots woman became a mockable caricature that turned women into shrill, over proud scolds.

Get back in your box or we’ll make fun of you, basically.

So is this book being mocking, or is it employing popular tropes of the time, knowing that audience will understand what it means and that the female protagonist is being subversive despite what others expect from her?

I can’t say. Again, haven’t read it. It could be utter dogshit and making total fun of my culture. But I do think when looking at older media we need to put our thinking caps on and think, “How would the audience of the time, 1959, have viewed and engaged with this?”

Expecting a “strong female protagonist” as we know it from media today isn’t going to work with media that’s almost 70 years old.

Hell, the “strong woman protagonist” wasn’t even something any piece of media could agree on when I was growing up in the 90s.

Times change. Literary tropes and preferences change. It helps to keep that in mind.

[hergrandplan]

"He's the one"

thank you @enjoythesilentworld for this fun tag!!

Post a 1-5 paragraph excerpt of a WIP/fic idea that may never make it out of your drafts but is near and dear to your heart.

I started this so so long ago and actually looked at it a few days ago and realized that this may simply be one I can't figure out. I know what it's supposed to be (exes who are friends, and then Simon gets engaged and Wille becomes his best man) but I don't know how, and either way, I don't think this particular scene will make it in! So here it is, for your enjoyment (yes. this is longer than 1-5 paragraphs. it could have been even longer but there were too many square brackets in the final few that I couldn't figure out. but hey. More cake!)

**

With a loud “Wille, you’ll never believe what happened!” Simon stormed into the living room, temporarily making Wille look up from the book he was reading. A book he was enjoying.

He already regretted giving Simon the keys to his house. One of these days, he was sure, Wille was going to come home and find Simon splayed out on his couch, having raided his cupboards and eating all his snacks.

“What, Simon?” he said with feigned disinterest, while trying to finish this last paragraph.

Simon grabbed the book out of his hands before he could, and tossed to the other side of the room.

“Hey!” Wille exclaimed. [maybe this needs to be more of a description of the sound like ‘disgruntled noise’ or something but not disgruntled] “I was reading that!”

“You can read later, I have something to tell you.” Simon sat down on the couch next to him, the widest grin possible on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. “I met someone. And I’m pretty sure he’s the one.”

“You said that about the previous guy. And the guy before that. And the guy before that.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m sure of it.” Simon fell back against the couch cushions, and ran a hand through his black curls. “He’s sweet, and considerate, and incredible in bed. I mean the way he–“

“Okay, okay, I do not need to hear you go on about your sexual escapades again, please. Where did you meet him?”

Simon’s hand got stuck in his curls, and he blushed. Actually blushed, and that’s how Wille knew the answer.

“Please don’t say the club.”

Simon didn’t reply.

“Simon, we talked about this. Not every guy you fuck is the one.”

“Yeah, but this time it’s different! I mean, I met him last Saturday and we went out for dinner last night and Wille,” Simon sat up again, stared into Wille’s eyes. “I came from his place just now. I haven’t even been home yet since Saturday. He has a bed frame. A bed frame that is incredibly suitable to – ” Wille gave him a look, and Simon stopped mid-sentence. “Okay, it doesn’t matter what it’s suitable to, but c’mon.”

“Wait, but if you met him Saturday –“ Wille quickly did the math in his head. “Simon, you’ve known this guy for what, 4 days?”

“I know, I know, it’s too soon but truly, I’m telling you, he’s the one. For real this time.”

Wille rolled his eyes and get up to get his book from where Simon had flung it to heedlessly.

“Sure. Tell me again in a month when it hasn’t crashed and burned again, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Simon’s problem, according to himself, was that he just loved too much and that they were never able to handle it. And maybe he was right, a bit – almost every guy he met was the one until he found they weren’t ready for a relationship, were still in love with their ex, or, in more than one case, had a girlfriend already.

Simon’s problem, according to Wille, was that he couldn’t see past all the raging red flags. Simon would have killed it if he were a bull fighting in the arena.

Not tagging anyone bc Idk who has been tagged already and I sadly dont have the brain capacity or the time for that rn. So if you see this and want to join in: this is your sign!

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

Hi. Can you do one with Amber x fem reader x Tara, pls?

Where the three of them are dating for months.

Wes started to bully the r and he told her to stay away from Tara (because we all know that he like her) but once Wes take it too far w the bullying and the r ended up at the hospital w a broken leg.

The only one who knows about the r being at the hospital was Chad (he's the r best friend). The r didn't told anything to her gfs because she was scared of them being mad about not telling them about the bullying from Wes.

Idk something cute like Amber or Tara picking her up and carrying the r around the school or classes while the other one is pushing the wheelchair. But noticing that something was off w the r when Wes returned to their friend's group (like they're all sitting at the lunch table at school and when the reader notices that Wes was coming, she scoots away panicking from Tara)

When Amber and Tara find out the truth they decided to confront Wes.

Idk something cute at the end?

“Pssst nerd.” You faced the front of your class trying your best not to pay her any attention. “Psssssssssst.”

“Miss Freeman is there a problem?” The teacher drawled.

“Actually yes Mr.Lewis my girlfriend isn’t paying any attention to me.” She smirked. The class laughed right as the bell rang making the teacher groan in annoyance.

“Read chapter 7 for the quiz next week. Amber since it’s the end of the class and the school day I will let you off with a warning. Please refrain from disturbing my class for your girlfriend…again.”

The dark haired girl smirked once more before picking up your book bag and planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Hello love.” She whispered softly making you grin.

You glanced to see the teacher not paying attention and gave the girl a soft kiss on the lips.

“Did you really have to interrupt class to say hi?” She shrugged cheesing.

“Don’t know guess you’ll have to find out next class.”

You both laugh heading down the hall to meet up with the rest of the group. Ambers usual scowl coming back on as she glared at anyone looking her way. You both came to a shop at the door groaning as you saw Tara still in her seat next to Wes. Your annoyance towards the teacher for not releasing class yet and Ambers towards the bleach blonde who was leaning too close to Tara.

“Mommy’s boy really needs to take a hint.” You side eye Amber warily knowing her temper can sometimes get the best of her. You grabbed one of her hands running soft circles on the back making the girls tense posture relax. The door was slammed open as students began to run out. Tara stopping in front of you and Amber dimples on display as she smiled at the sight of you.

“Hey babe.” Amber leaned down giving the girl a kiss before she turned towards you brown eyes shining.

“Hi baby.” She stood slightly on her toes kissing you making Wes scowl. Everyone knew of the boys not so secret crush on Tara and his delusion of her someday developing feelings for him. It was actually thanks to him that Tara had given you a chance.

The smaller girl was wary of you at first. She felt you were too quiet at times and slightly intimidating but one day Wes got too close after school when Amber wasn’t around so you’d stepped in getting her away from him just in time. She found herself drawn to your soft nature and asked to hang out after school. It was during some random movie that she gathered the courage to kiss you. Her girlfriend was in the kitchen when she did so and when she’d come back out you’d gotten the opposite of what was expected. With a quiet “Thank God” Amber had pulled you in by the collar of your shirt and kissed you too.

This was 4 months ago and still going strong your relationship was better than those around you and was quite the scandal around school. Your friends hadn’t been as accepting but luckily Amber and Tara’s group welcomed you with open arms all except Wes who had little choice in the matter.

You were brought out of your thoughts by Mindy who’d looped her arms around yours and Ambers necks.

“Movie night at our house you guys in?” You both looked down to Tara. In public it may have seemed you both were in charge but the truth of the matter was that Tara word was law for the three of you. She knew how to calm you both down, always found a solution to any problem and she had you both wrapped around her finger. She nodded slightly making the both of you turn back to Mindy.

“Sounds good.” Mindy nodded running towards her car.

“BRING LIQUOR AND NOTHING CHEAP!” You all laughed as you went to the nearest liquor store.

Three movies endless junk food and a few bottles of cheap wine, you stumbled to the bathroom. Amber was too busy arguing with Mindy to notice you slip away as Tara’s head rested on her shoulder eyes shut as she’d slowly fallen asleep.

You had just finished washing your hands when you went to exit the bathroom a familiar head of hair coming into view.

“Oh sorry Wes-“

“You guys are fucking freaks you know that?” His words were slurred most likely due to the four bottles of beer he’d chugged earlier.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me your relationship is nothing more than some weird experiment. Tara deserves an actual relationship with one person.” You laughed moving past him.

“You’re drunk Wes go home.” He shakes his head scowling as you go back to your girlfriends. He watched as you sat on the couch stroking Tara’s hair as she curls into you ambers arm also around her sometimes placing light kisses on her forehead or cheeks. He felt his anger grow as she’d open her eyes and look to the both of you in adoration.

It was disgusting.

On Monday you had gone to school as normal only Tara had a dentist appointment this time and Amber went to take her. You were heading to your next class when you felt a harsh shove. You stumbled down the steps people moving aside so they wouldn’t fall with you. A harsh snap following making everyone gasp and stare as you cried out in pain. Your eyes were clouded with tears but you knew you’m saw bleach blonde tips in the crowd. A small smirk on the boys lips. It was as you were being loaded on the gurney that he faked a look of concern before leaning in close to whisper.

“Stay away from Tara.” When he’d pulled away the picture perfect look of innocence.

“Feel better Y/n!”

Asshole.

You were on the hospital bed being pumped full of morphine when your best friend Chad came in.

“Holy shit” He ran up to hug you, being mindful of the IV. “Are you ok?”

You stared at him.

“Right dumb question. What happened?”

“Chad..” you took a shuddering breath in. “Wes pushed me. He did this.”

Chad looked doubtful. “Wes?”

You nod. “Last weekend at your place he was talking shit and I didn’t take him serious but he doesn’t like my relationship with Tara.”

Chad still looked skeptical. “I don’t know Y/N Wes is a goodie two shoes I can’t see him pushing you on purpose, plus his mom is the sheriff.”

You clenched your jaw knowing this would get you nowhere. Amber stormed in with Tara trailing behind her.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Are you ok?”

You smiled slightly at the sight of your girlfriends. It fell the minute you caught sight of him with the rest of your friend group. You’d turned your cheek when Tara went to kiss you. Making it seem like you were just in pain. The two fussed over you as the rest of the group stayed to talk for a bit. Mindy was the first to sign the temporary cast as Liv followed suit adding her own “personal touch” (she’d found stickers at the gift shop downstairs)

When you were released the two girls refused to let you leave their sights. Amber more protective than usual and Tara was extremely attentive it both wanted your heart and gave you anxiety. They’d each taken turns pushing you in a wheelchair around their houses. They’d both insisted that crutches would make it more difficult for them to cuddle you. At home Amber would lift you upstairs and get ready for bed the two girls on each side of you. Tara cooked breakfast and tried showing extra affection becoming slightly disheartened each time you seemed to distance yourself from her. Amber had taken notice too when she’d given you affection there was no issue but you now flinch at the slightest touch from Tara. The smaller girl looked to her other girlfriend for guidance but neither knew what to make of it.

It was your first day back at school during lunch that Amber had realized the possible reason for your odd behavior.

You were all at the table eating and laughing when Wes had come to join. You already had been somewhat distant with Tara but you seemed to curl into yourself whenever the boy was involved. Your usual witty remarks became less and less, you were becoming even quieter than when they’d first met you.

You scooted slightly away from the brunette and began to pick at your food not speaking unless spoken to directly. Amber got closer to you.

“Babe are you not hungry?” You shrug as Tara overhears.

She places a hand on your thigh gently. You go to move but Amber holds you in place. She watches your eyes shoot to Wes, to Iess observant eyes everything would seem normal but she saw the way Wes’ eyebrows furrowed in anger and the fear in yours.

That night they’d taken you to Tara’s you’d asked if you could sleep alone. Amber and Tara were slightly hurt but respected your space just downstairs if you needed anything.

“It’s not you.” The freckled girl looked to her girlfriend confused. “Y/n still loves you, I think Wes might have something to do with her behavior.”

Tara blanched. Wes? Sweet quiet Wes who does nothing but love his mom and play video games. She thought back to see if he’d had any changes in behavior. He had seemed more confident around her always getting slightly closer than usual whenever Y/N was around and when they were alone he was a lot more open with his flirting. She nodded.

“We need proof.” Amber sighed.

“I have an idea that none of us will like.”

.

Tara was home mentally preparing herself as Amber hid in the closet. She had texted Wes to come over as she needed to talk to him.

Not five minutes later the doorbell rang.

“Hey Tara are you ok?” The girl took a deep breath remembering the speech her and Amber had come up with.

“No it’s Y/N I don’t think she loves me anymore.” Wes almost smiled but quickly put his hands on Tara’s shoulders.

“You’re so beautiful and sweet If she can’t see that she doe No sn’t deserve you. Neither does Amber.”

Amber huffed out a breath quietly.

Fucking weasel.

“I just feel like ever since she fell she’s changed. She doesn’t even look at me anymore.”

“I see you Tara I’ve always seen you.” The boy leaned in making Tara push him gently back.

“Wes I’m still in a relationship.” He sighed out angrily.

“Tara can’t you see I’m better for you? Were meant to be together, we have the same classes, the same interests, that’s why I pushed her she was in our way.”

“I’m still with Amber too.”

“Amber is an asshole she can have Y/n and she’ll be fine. You just have to give us a chance Tara.” He went to kiss her again not stopping when she’d lean away.

“Wes Stop!”

Amber had enough she went to grab the boy from Tara before punching him.

You awoke to the noise and began to climb down the stairs carefully and quietly. You’d kept a knife by your bedside as would any sane person who lived in Woodsboro.

“Son of a bitch!” The boy began to fight back tackling Amber into the kitchen. Tara yelled at him to stop once more. He’d thrown Amber against the counter top and back handed Tara who fell to the floor. The was a harsh stabbing sound followed by a gasp.

Tara looked to see you holding a knife in the boys shoulder he’d gone to attack again but Amber had stabbed him in his lower abdomen to slow him down. Pulling out before stabbing him again he’d shoved you harshly making you fall and lose your grip on your weapon. Tara grabbed the fallen knife and got the final blow to his chest as he’d gone to stab Amber.

“Do you see me now Wes?”

His body fell to the floor blood pooling between the three of you. You each scanned the other to make sure you were alright. You grabbed Tara’s face in your hands placing a soft kiss before doing the same to Amber.

Tara placed her forehead against yours one hand gripping Amber as she looked at Wes.

“No one will take you away from me.”

Her dark eyes shot to yours and Tara’s.

“No one.”

I hope you liked it 😅😭

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

hiiiiii!! if it isnt too much, would you mind writing a platonic oneshot for shadow?

maybe after shadow lost his memory after sa2, the reader found him somehow. shadow is injured or smth (idk something that causes him to have to be dependent on someone, you can decide what the reason why he is dependent on the reader is) so the reader takes him in, despite shadow insisting that he's fine on his own. the reader takes care of shadow, and they have a sort of sibling banter-y relationship. am i making sense? pls tell me if im making sense.

for the readers personality, id like her to be sassy, assertive (maybe a tiny bit neurodivergent if youre comfortable with writing that) artistic, playful, and a bit closed off but still cares. a bit like rouge, maybe. also id like her to be fem, if thats alright. you have full creative freedom with what actually happens. sorry if this is weird and long and awdsdbjebiwebf i just wanna adopt shadow ;-;

You’ll Always Have a Friend”

Pairing: (Platonic) Shadow the Hedgehog x Female Human Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: After finding an injured hedgehog on your doorstep, you never expected to get close to him. But fate is always a strange thing, isn’t it?

Notes: Aghhh I didn’t mean for these requests to take so long, I’ve just been semi-stressed from school, I hope it was worth the wait though!

(Reader will use She/They pronouns.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

The day was normal at first.

You had a normal morning, eating breakfast, getting your morning jog in, catching up on your favorite TV show, reading a new book…

It was nice.

At least, until you started hearing noises outside.

Thunder, to be more specific.

Well, there goes your plans for the rest of the day.

You let out a sigh, double-checking where you keep the candles and getting them out in case the power decides to go out, along with a flashlight and batteries.

After doing so, you notice a figure outside, which isn’t unusual, considering how many people near your town love walking in the rain.

But this one is strange.

They seem…smaller, around the size of a kid, and they seem to be hunched over in pain.

You open your door, looking outside, only to see a strange sight.

The figure turns out to be a three-foot tall anthropomorphic hedgehog with black and red quills, red eyes, rocket shoes, golden ring-shaped bracelets on, one on each of his limbs, and many injuries adorning his body. He appears to be limping.

Before you can call out to him, he barely takes a step forward before collapsing, going unconscious.

You rush over to him, panic written all over your face, checking for a pulse, which you luckily find, causing you to let out a sigh of relief.

Well, you can’t just leave him out here…

Making your decision, you pick up the hedgehog bridal-style, being mindful of his sharp quills, bringing him inside, kicking the door closed behind you with one of your feet.

You set him down on your couch, rushing to get your first-aid kit from your bathroom, coming back out to the living room once you have it, along with a towel.

You begin treating his injuries after drying him off, first disinfecting each of them, with the hedgehog letting off a quiet hiss each time you pour it on a wound.

“I know, bud…I’m almost done,” you say.

It’s a miracle he hasn’t woken up yet.

You bandage the last injury, that being one on his forehead, letting off another sigh.

“Well…guess I have a roommate now,” you say. “Get better soon, alright?”

Odd how he had green blood, was this guy an alien?

Well, of course he is, he’s a giant anthropomorphic hedgehog.

Duh.

The next day, when you awake, you notice him finally awake, trying to get up, hissing in pain.

“Woah woah woah, calm down a bit, bud,” you start. “You’re still healing.”

“Who are you,” he spats. “And where am I.”

“Okay, um. I’m [Name], and this is my house,” you say. “What about you? Do you have a name?”

The hedgehog goes silent, avoiding your gaze.

“Not one that I remember,” he states.

“Hm. Well, I’ll call you “Shadow,” that cool?” you ask.

“Hmph. Whatever,” he says.

You quickly got used to Shadow. It was like having an annoying younger brother, in a way.

Well, sort of, anyway.

He quickly became interested in a lot of stuff you liked, like your many, many books.

His favorite was The Tales of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, surprisingly.

Eventually, his injuries fully healed, and you expected him to leave.

And he did, but…

He always came back.

No matter how many times he would leave, he would always come back to your house for a safe place.

It was nice having the company.

In return for him staying, you would ask him to be a model for your paintings, and you two would bicker about it like siblings.

In the end, well…

You never regretted meeting him.

[lividstar]

愤怒的星星 ★ — COLLISION OF PARALLEL LINES.

៚ wc: 17.6k

៚ fluff, punk!hongjoong x fem!reader, slowburn, ot8 cameos, college au except idk if i did it right, mutual pining, first few parts are just flashbacks, opposites attract (kinda?) will probably be a 2-part series

៚ The thought of enjoying your Saturday morning however you please may initially seem exciting, but it can become as daunting as weekdays when you end up with tasks even on your supposed days off—which, in your case, is none other than buying a psychological thriller book for your roommate, who claims she needs it in order to share a "common interest" with the nerdy guy from her linguistics class she seems to be obsessed with. You already saw it coming when you opened your phone to find numerous missed calls from her, but what you didn't expect was a coincidental encounter with a guy who seems to have visited the bookstore for the same reason as you. It only took you two more no-longer-so-coincidental encounters for you to realize just how deep you’ve fallen into the bottomless pit.

You never really tend to realize just how much of an effect a certain person’s presence has on you until you start to crave more of it during the times you fail to feel it around.

The first time you saw him was when you were walking in and out of your local bookstore’s aisles, fingers brushing through the rows of books neatly arranged according to their genres. For how long you’ve been doing the exact same thing, you begin to forget just why and how exactly visiting the place managed to sneak itself in between your routine for the day.

Rewinding the day’s events so far so you could recall what exactly were you doing inside a bookstore standing in front of an aisle solely for the psychological thriller genre, you vividly remember your roommate calling you in the middle of your morning stroll at the park asking if you could stop by a nearby bookstore and buy her a book she apparently needs for “academic purposes.”

You were hesitant at first, thinking she was probably airing out a false reason. With the amount of times you’d come home to the sight of her deeply engrossed in a complex thriller movie, you’d assume she wanted the book solely due to her interests.

You ran your eyes through the columns once more, sighing in relief when you finally found the book your roommate wanted you to buy. You took your phone out to take a picture of it and send it to her for confirmation, but just as you were about to reach for it, another person whose presence you failed to notice until now did so as well, making your hands brush against each other after reaching for the same book stacked in the sixth row of the shelf.

You immediately looked to the side and managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes slightly widening, and so did he with yours. You remember being the first one to snap back to reality, taking a step back to face him while waving your arms off in front of your chest.

“You can take it,” you said, awkwardly chuckling as you gestured for him to take the book instead. You figured you’d just buy a copy of it online, or if you’re going to be free on some days this week, perhaps you’d stop by other bookstores. Your roommate didn’t specify when exactly she needed the book, anyway.

He mirrors your actions instead of reaching for the book, gently pulling down the left cord of his earphones—you thought it was a subtle gesture of bouncing your initiation of small talk back to you, so you let your attention get taken away as your ears perked up to listen to whatever the stranger had to say.

“It’s fine, i’m sure you’ll need that one more than I do,” he said, pointing to the book neither of you were considering taking with a gentle smile. “I’ve actually read it five times already—just thought a sixth reread was necessary earlier in the morning, so here I am now.” He chuckled, and only then did you manage to get a good look at him.

His hair had a striking resemblance to the burgundy patterned carpets of the bookstore, and from the looks of it, you were able to tell from a single glance that it definitely wasn’t the first time he’s ever dyed his hair. Black sunglasses remained sat atop his head, and his ears were decorated in multiple piercings. He wore a layered chain necklace, the silver material of the accessories shining as the lights by the roof reflected on it. A dark red leather jacket was hung lazily over his shoulders, showing the black tank top he wore underneath. He was wearing black, ripped baggy jeans, and it was adorned with chains attached to its waistline. His combat boots were of the same color, and the shoelace of the left foot was undone—you couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or if he simply didn’t notice. He wore silver rings on almost each of his fingers, and you were able to see that one of his nails was painted black when he adjusted one of his rings. It almost made you smile, but it wasn’t until he cleared his throat that you realized you’ve been staring at him for about a minute or two.

Your eyes widened in surprise, awkwardly chuckling as you did your best not to give him the wrong impression. “Sorry, I was just...” you trailed off, not knowing what horrible excuse you should use to drag yourself out of a potentially awkward encounter. “...just wondering why you’d want to read the same book six times straight.” Great, you certainly didn’t come off weird, but you definitely sounded rude.

Just as you were about to hurriedly mutter out an apology, the man’s stifled laugh immediately put a halt to your train of thought. “It sounds strange, doesn’t it? My friends have been asking me the same question for a while now, so this isn’t really surprising for me. See, this book has a lot of foreshadowing in it, so I think It’s nice to reread it every once in a while to see the points I’ve missed.” He shrugged his shoulders, making his leather jacket fall off smoothly on one side.

He noticed you struggling with thinking of what to respond, so he took it upon himself and steered the conversation away from himself and towards you. “What about you? what were you going to buy the book for?” he asked, and you were quick to answer—thankful for his initiative.

“Going to the bookstore wasn’t originally part of today’s schedule, but apparently my roommate couldn’t get any more lazier and asked me to stop by to purchase the book for her because she can’t do it herself.”

There was something about the way you expressed your frustration (although jokingly) with a deadpanning look on your face that almost made him want to laugh, and you could tell by the way he was visibly fighting against the corners of his lips that were twitching upwards.

“That’s tough,” he stated the obvious as he ran his jewelry adorned fingers through his burgundy hair—with the way you saw a line of sweat drip down by the side of his face, you knew you weren’t the only one who found the bookstore to be in a strangely warm temperature today.

You saw a few air conditioners here and there on the walls, and they were working perfectly fine earlier, so you assumed they were probably just malfunctioning. “Are the air conditioners going through a malfunction or something?” he voiced out your thoughts for you as he practically asked himself the question with the way it came out as a whisper while he was looking around.

You took your cardigan off, and only then did you notice the stark contrast between your choices of outfits. You were clad in a pink knitted cardigan your mother made by her own hands—she gave it to you as a present for Christmas a while ago, and underneath it was a white camisole top decorated with lace and a pink ribbon on its center—something you added yourself. You wore a long, white ruffled skirt, a piece of clothing you bought online two years ago when you and your online best friend agreed upon buying it together to wear it the moment you’ll finally get the chance to meet up. You stopped talking to each other a year ago, so you just started to wear it to your own liking. You chose to wear the pink doll shoes you found at a thrift store a week ago, and the cherry on top was the white ribbon hair clips you placed on either side of your hair.

“They were doing just fine when I first came in, so I guess it has something to do with technical issues.” You shrugged, and the man mirrored your actions yet again as he proceeded to fully take off his leather jacket as well.

Just as he parted his lips to say something, your phone suddenly rang, making both of you look at the device you didn’t even notice you were still holding in your hands until now. Staring right into your eyes was your roommate’s caller id on the phone screen, and for a second, you were debating whether to answer or not.

You decided to ignore the latter, figuring the call was made regarding the book. You apologetically smiled at the man first, gesturing to your phone as he returned your smile, urging you to go ahead as he mouths something about checking out other sections of the book store so you could have some privacy.

Once he was out of the frame, you didn’t hesitate to press the green button, bringing the phone up to your ears. “Before I proceed to say anything, I need you to answer a question of mine first. Do you think you’re capable of committing murder today?” She asked from the other end of the line, making your brows furrow as you scoffed in both confusion and disbelief at the sudden confusion. “Am I what?”

“Please just say yes or no,” she said in a hurried tone. “No... why? Did something bad happen over there?” She chuckled nervously as you heard the shuffling of bedsheets, assuming she was either rolling around her bed or sitting up.

“No, but... you see, about the book I asked for you to buy... remember that guy from my linguistics class I told you about last weekend?” You were confused about where the conversation was heading, yet hummed in confirmation anyway. “I do. What about him?”

“Okay, so, thanks to my... connections, I found out just now that he owns an annotated physical copy of the book, and, if you’re already catching my drift...” she trailed off, yet the moment she heard your sigh from your end, she was quick to regain composure and stumble over her words.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I wouldn’t have sneaked the task in between your schedule if I had known beforehand—I just really don’t want to waste the opportunity of a potential connection between us... and, I mean, well, yeah, I should’ve done it by myself to begin with, but I wasn’t really thinking straight earlier in the morning so I—” you cut her off by ending the call, heading straight to your messages as you scrolled down to look for her contact number.

The sound of your nails clicking on the phone screen echoed across the empty aisle as you typed, “Go shoot your shot. Don’t stress it out, alright? Just make sure this won’t happen again. Love you :)” With a sigh, you turned your phone off and put it back inside your bag. You were happy for your roommate, yet at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel like you just wasted a portion of your day.

Exiting the aisle, your thoughts went back to the man you were just engaging in small talk with a few minutes ago, eyes darting around the bookstore to search for him. You didn’t see which direction he went when he left, already having your back turned against him the moment you heard his fading footsteps.

The man sitting by the register who seemed to be around the same age as you noticed you and was quick to call for your attention. “Are you looking for the redhead, miss?” And for a second, you were slightly embarrassed, but it was the truth, anyway, so you found yourself nodding wordlessly. “He already left a minute ago.”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth, you almost let a disappointed sigh slip out of your lips, but you were quick to cover it up. “I see. Thanks for telling me,” you said, flashing him a polite smile as he gave you his own.

Figuring there was no longer any purpose for you to stay inside the bookstore any longer, you headed to the exist, the clinking of the bells on top of the doors ringing in your ears as you swung it open, putting your cardigan back on when the cold temperature of the city hit your skin like a speeding truck. Only then did you realize you didn’t even get to ask for his name, and since then, he hadn’t left your mind for the rest of the day.

The next time wasn’t any different. You were taking a stroll at the park for a much-needed unwinding after taking your exams. Kids were running around and chasing each other by the grassy fields, couples were being all cute and cuddly as they sat by the benches, and some elderly people were walking around much like how you were, admiring the beautiful sceneries unfolding in front of their very own eyes.

Your pink dress was being carried away by the soft breeze, making it flow as you took one step after another. Thankfully, you chose to wear a long dress for the day, so you didn’t have to worry about any potential wardrobe malfunctions.

From a near distance, you saw a little boy standing by the grass fields pointing towards you. His voice was a little loud, so you managed to hear what he was saying to the two men he was with. “Wooyoung-hyung, look! A princess!”

The little boy’s comment caught you off guard, making you look the other way as you pretended not to hear the words he was saying, which were hard to ignore due to how loud he was speaking. “Kyungmin, she’s not a princess, and you can’t just point to strangers like that!”

The man who you assumed to be his older brother lightly scolded him, and for a second, you were debating between playing along with the child’s wide imagination—it wasn’t his fault for thinking you were a princess as he was still young, after all, or fleeing from the park so his attention would be directed to something else so his brother would stop scolding him. “But she is a princess! Seonghwa-hyung, you see it too, right?” The other man with them was probably a friend of the little boy’s brother.

“Well, Kyungmin, she might look like one, but she isn’t—” the man you assumed to be Seonghwa stopped in between his words all of a sudden, and the next thing you knew was the little boy was standing right in front of you, tugging on your dress that was still flowing due to the wind.

“Kyungmin!” Both men yelled his name in unison, but he ignored them, his attention fully focused on you instead. “Miss pretty lady! You’re a princess, right? Right?” He looked up at you with a smile, and once again, you found yourself ignoring the latter between your choices of how to handle the situation.

You sat down so you could see each other eye to eye, a fond smile spreading across your face as you let out a soft laugh. “You think I’m a princess?” You tilted your head, making him let out a gasp of disbelief. “But you are! Wooyoung-hyung and Seonghwa-hyung won’t believe me, but I know you are! Right?” he asked for confirmation again, making you laugh once more as you rested your hands on the area of your chest where your heart was.

“Well… I think it depends on what you want to believe. I won’t tell you whether I’m a princess or not, but if you think I am, then so be it. What you believe in is what matters the most, and not what anyone else does, don’t you think?”

You figured talking some wisdom into a boy who’s probably still in kindergarten wasn’t exactly the best way to handle the situation, but it’s not like you knew better ways. Seeing his smile grow even wider after hearing your words, though, was enough to let you know you handled it just fine. “So you are a princess! I knew it!” Okay, well, that was definitely not the reaction you were going for, but at least he’s happy, right?

“You should tell them that, too!” He pointed to where his brother and his friend stood, but this time, there were three of them, and the one standing in the middle was definitely not an unfamiliar face to you contrary to the two who stood by his side. You certainly couldn’t have been mistaken—especially not when you saw his burgundy hair.

Your eyes met briefly, yours widened and his completely normal, save for the fond gaze you assumed was probably directed to the little boy in front of you. He probably didn’t even recognize you at all. “Come with me, miss pretty lady! You should meet them so they’ll be proven wrong,” he said, reaching for your arm as he took a step towards where the three men stood.

When you didn’t budge from where you crouched at all, he looked back at you with a confused expression on his face. “What’s the matter, miss pretty lady?”

You chuckled awkwardly as you stood up, looking down at him. “They’re waiting for you, not me. Go on now, don’t keep them waiting. I’m sure you’ve proven them wrong already, anyway,” you said, using your free hand to take his off your wrist. “Are you sure? I…”

“Kyungmin!” His older brother called out his name once more, making his head turn to where they were all standing, patiently waiting for the little boy to go back to them. “See? You should go.” You ushered, making him look back and forth between you and his brother and his friends for about a few seconds.

“Well… okay, then.” The frown on his face was a huge contrast to the huge smile he once had a few seconds ago, and you were quick to do whatever you could to bring it back.

“Hey, don’t be sad, alright? It’s always better to spend days like this with a smile on your face,” you said, smiling at him fondly. “Will I get to see you again?” The sudden question put you at a loss for words, and you spent a good couple of seconds thinking of how to respond correctly.

“Neither of us know the answer to that, but if you ever see me again, I promise I’ll let you introduce me to your brother and his friends, okay?” It was definitely not the right thing to say, but it was certainly what the boy wanted to hear.

With the smile on his face returning, he waved at you enthusiastically, running back to the three men who have been waiting for him for quite a while now. He approached them with a cheerful expression on his face, and you watched them slowly start to smile as well while the little boy told them about his interaction with you.

Unbeknownst to you, your attention was unconsciously directed towards the burgundy haired man who was now exchanging laughter with his friends while the little boy was still going on about his story. This time, he was wearing a see-through black jacket with a beige compression long-sleeve shirt underneath, partnered with baggy denim jeans that were secured by a black belt with embellishments. His ears had less piercings this time, and so were the amount of necklaces he wore. His boots were the same as the ones you saw him wear when you first met him, and his fingers were still adorned with multiple accessories. You could tell he opted for a casual look today, yet he still looked as cool as ever. Perhaps it was due to the vibe he carries with him, and not just his choices of clothing itself. There’s still a huge contrast between your outfits.

The little boy didn’t mention his name when he was talking to you earlier, and that was the only thing you were disappointed about with your heartwarming interaction with him. You’d probably look strange if you were to approach them, yet it proved to be impossible either way as they now had their backs faced towards you, walking away as they continued their conversation. Luck really hasn’t been on your side lately. You wonder when it will be.

Three weeks later, and you’re now walking through the halls in search of your roommate. Thirty minutes ago, she sent you a message, telling you to meet her on the third floor. She didn’t really tell you why, and it drove you off the edge more than it should’ve—one thing you’ve always disliked was when people would ask you to meet up for an unspecified reason, or even worse, message you by texting you only your name and your name alone without telling you what’s the matter beforehand. So now, here you were, eyes searching the halls in hopes of finding a familiar face.

“Hey!” A familiar voice called out a few steps behind where you stood, making you immediately look back. Sighing in relief as you recognized who it was, your roommate made her way towards you, pushing past the small portion of people crowding the halls. “Sorry for asking to meet up all of a sudden—I know you hate it when I do this, but I promise this is the last time!” So was last week, you said in your thoughts.

“What’s this about, anyway? And it better not be about your crush from your linguistics class because I swear—” She cuts you off with an apologetic chuckle, making you sigh in disappointment. “Nope, I’m not doing it.”

Just as you were about to walk away, she held your arm to keep you steady in your place, desperately pleading as she shook your arm repeatedly. “Please, please just hear me out! I promise I’ll leave you alone after this!” No way in hell you would, you thought once again.

Still, you chose to hear her out anyway. Sure, she may be annoying at times—especially when it comes to her undying crush on the boy from her linguistics class, but you can’t really deny the fact that you hold a soft spot for her deep within. When it wasn’t about her man who technically isn’t her man but you’re sure will be her man one day, she was really fun to be around. She was loud and outgoing, a huge contrast to your calm and collected personality, and as different as you both may be, you feel the most comfortable around her compared to anyone and everyone else. Whenever she’d notice you were feeling down, she wouldn’t hesitate to speedrun to the nearest convenience store by where you both lived, buy you your favorite food even during the times her pockets are begging for her to leave them alone for once, and put on your favorite movie once she comes back.

So then, you now find yourself heading towards the library to look for yet another book her crush has apparently been frequently visiting the library for lately. You figured you should hire whoever’s airing all this information to her as your detective one day, if it ever came to it.

Apparently, the book is a tale as old as time, so he couldn’t really find a copy of it anywhere, hence why he chooses to visit the library on a daily basis to read it. Your roommate thought sharing the same interests with him would be a great way to deepen her “connection” with him—if they even had one to begin with, considering how the only bridge between both of them was the annotated book she borrowed from him—which she still hasn’t returned—and that was pretty much all of it. She claims she’s too shy to approach him, and maybe that’s why.

You found yourself standing in between two tall bookshelves once again, the situation being somewhat familiar to you in a way that almost made you laugh. This time, though, the air conditioners were working just fine, and you weren’t accompanied by a presence other than your own.

Your eyes search through the books neatly stacked in the shelves, squinting and inching closer to get a better view in case you accidentally miss the book you’re looking for. There was a blank space in between two books, and for a moment, you assume the book had already been borrowed by your roommate’s crush, or maybe someone else.

You were about to message your roommate to tell her about it, until you heard some shuffling from the other side of the shelf you were facing, drawing a confused expression on your face. You heard from one of your colleagues that the librarian was way too strict for everyone’s liking, so students would mostly stop by the library just to borrow a book, but never to actually stay.

Which student was brave enough to actually stop by the library to read? Wouldn’t they be at least a little scared to be yelled at to shut up over the smallest of things such as breathing like how a normally functioning person should?

Peeking through the empty space in between the books to see who it was, your eyes widened comically as you recognized the person solely from their hands resting on the table alone. The sight of a singularly colored nail and layers of rings and bracelets couldn’t have been more familiar to you.

But what was he doing here? His hair was half blonde and half black, though, so you were contemplating whether your assumptions about his identity were correct or not, but you knew there was only one way to find out—and it certainly wasn’t peeking through a bookshelf like a creep.

Exiting the aisle—a familiar experience once again, you slowly walked towards the table while rethinking your life decisions, wondering if you should just leave him alone and mind your own business. You were on the brink of considering it, but it wasn’t until you recognized what he was reading.

It was the book your roommate asked you to borrow from the library, and it was certainly the one meant to be placed in the blank space by the aisle you were searching through just now.

Your mind was racing with questions pleading to be answered—the first ones being, Who the hell is this man? Why do I keep seeing him around? Why did no one ever tell me he goes to the same university as I do? And what is his name?

You figured there couldn’t have been a better time for your questions to be answered other than now, and even if you were gambling with the possibilities of him either recognizing you or not feeling any sense of familiarity with you at all, you couldn’t really care less right now.

“Hey,” you were hesitant, making your voice come off as soft and barely above a whisper—and it certainly wasn’t due to your fear of being scolded by the librarian. The man shot up and immediately turned his head around, and as he stared at you with those eyes of his, you knew your assumptions regarding his identity were correct, after all.

For about a second or two, all he did was stare at you with a blank expression on his face, and you swore you were about to let the ground swallow you whole right there and then. But for the next second, his face softens as he flashes you a toothy grin, and the words that soon followed after it caught you completely off guard. “It’s you.” It’s you?

What on Earth could he have possibly meant by that? Does that mean he recognized you when his friend’s little brother was talking to you within a fair distance from where he and his friends stood by the park, after all? Does that mean he remembers? “I was starting to think I’d stop seeing you around. Turns out we’re closer than I thought we would be.” Okay, what?

“What?” You voice out your thoughts by accident, tilting your head in confusion as all he did in return was smile at you once more. “Third time’s the charm, after all, isn’t it?” He closes the book laid out in front of him on the table, pulling out the chair beside him, tapping on it as he gestured for you to take a seat.

You do so wordlessly, awkwardly fiddling with a loose stitch of your white knitted sweater adorned with baby pink strawberry patterns. How come you’ve never seen him around? With a face as strikingly beautiful as his, you’re sure you would’ve already noticed him long ago—or maybe you were just looking at the wrong places all along.

“He still thinks you’re a princess, you know.” He rests his elbow on the table, placing his chin on his hand as he looks at you with a smile. “Who?”

“Kyungmin—the little boy from the park, remember?” That was all it took for you to put two and two together and realize what he was talking about, making you let out a hum of realization, nodding soon after. “He hasn’t stopped talking to us about it, especially Wooyoung, since he’s his older brother and he’s pretty much the only one out of all of us who keeps on breaking his little bubble of imagination.”

The conversation flowed through more smoothly than you expected a few seconds ago, and the next thing you knew was you were stifling a chuckle, careful not to drive the librarian mad—actually, was she even still around right now? He was practically speaking in a normal tone and not in hushed whispers, so he should’ve been told off by now already. But he isn’t.

“It was a little hard trying to convince him to go back to you and your friends, honestly…” you said, rubbing the back of your neck as he chuckled at your response.

“Kids and their imaginations never fail to impress me. You know, when we went to the park again last night, he kept crying because he couldn’t see you anywhere. He said you promised you’d let him introduce you to us once you both meet each other again, so he was really upset. It was adorable, though.”

You found yourself smiling as you imagined the little boy crying in the arms of his brother due to not seeing you around, this time being the one chuckling.

“I didn’t mean to leave him hanging off by my words… I hope it wasn’t too much for your friend to handle his tantrums,” you said, smiling apologetically. He waves his arms off in front of his chest—another action appearing to be somehow familiar to you. “Don’t feel bad about it. Pretty sure Wooyoung’s used to it by now,” he responded, shrugging afterwards. He was right, the boy was his friend’s younger brother, after all.

Finding both yourselves at a loss for another topic to discuss, you opted for the first thing that came up in your head. “You changed your hair color,” you stated the obvious, rushing over to make a follow-up statement in order not to look stupid, “it suits you.”

But only after voicing it out did you realize that perhaps maybe leaving your first statement as it is would’ve been a better option. Unbeknownst to you, heat immediately flushed through his cheeks, but he was quick to cover it up, making you fail to notice the way your words made his breath hitch for a slight second. “You think so?”

“W-Well, yeah. Burgundy looked just as great, though.” It was a huge lie, though. Sure, burgundy looked good on him and suited his style pretty well, but a split-dyed hair look is always a hit or miss.

For him to make it look this good, though, definitely proved to you that it’s a hit—a rare one. Even so, you were just glad you managed to save yourself from embarrassment, playing off the fact that you literally just complimented a stranger.

But with the way you’ve been thinking of him ever since you first touched each other’s hands by accident at the bookstore, was he really still a mere stranger to you at this point?

He found himself smiling at your comment, fiddling with the rings on his fingers like how you were doing with your sweater just a while ago. “Thanks, I definitely needed to hear that.” With his response, you looked at him in confusion, subtly asking for context. He was quick to catch on, bracing himself for a little bit of a story time.

“My roommates have been flaming me ever since I came home with the red dye all gone, asking me if my hairstylist ran out of bleach in the middle of the process. They’ve been teasing me about how my scalp is probably begging to be freed by the shackles of my stylist at this point, too.” You then ended up thinking about it as well. Just how many times has this man changed his hair color by now?

“Wanna take a guess?” You didn’t need further explanation from him in order to know what he was talking about, as you’ve already been pondering about it anyway.

“I’ll say… five times, maybe?” If the correct answer was to go way past that, you think you’ll end up having the same thoughts as his roommates by the end of the day. “I hate to be the bearer of the bad news, but the answer’s very far from that.” Oh.

Seeing the flabbergasted expression on your face, he laughed loudly, and only then were your suspicions about the librarian no longer being around confirmed. If she was, he’d be thrown out the window by now. “Surprising, isn’t it? I don’t know how my scalp is still holding out well until now, either.” He shrugged, and about a couple of seconds after, you ended up joining him on his fit of laughter as well.

“I gotta say, though, that’s really impressive. Anyone else would be bald by now,” you said, making him laugh once more with how you voiced out your thoughts in such a serious tone. His laughter died down after a little while, eyes now staring right into yours. “What brings you here, though?” He finally brought it up, making you wordlessly point to the closed book in front of where he sat by the table.

“Take a guess. It’s not any different from last time,” you said, and he was quick to piece your words together. “Your roommate?” You nodded, mimicking his actions as you rested your chin on your hands like how he did earlier.

Right now, he was lazily slouched on the chair, one arm of his placed on the table as the other was resting on his thigh. He seemed to be comfortable. Only then did you manage to look at him completely from head to toe.

The contrast between your choices of clothing remained the same as ever, so you weren’t really surprised at this point. For you, beneath your white knitted sweater was a pink lace camisole top, paired with a short, pink frilly skirt. Along with your pink doll shoes—one that was different from what you wore when you went to the bookstore a while ago, was a pair of knee-length lace socks with pink ribbons resting atop its garter. And lastly, for your hairstyle, you decided to go for a simpler look today, with half of it tied up and adorned with a large pink ribbon hair clip.

For him, you noticed he looked simpler than how he’d usually style himself. But then again, you’ve only ever seen him twice before today, so you were not one to talk. He wore an oversized black shirt with a simple red graphic design in front, and it was tucked in his black denim cargo jeans that were held up by an equally simple black belt, partnered up with glossy black boots that were shining every time he’d move his feet around due to the lights by the roof of the library reflecting on its shiny surface. He was only wearing one necklace today, but as always, his hands were clad in multiple accessories. A cap, which you assumed he was probably wearing earlier before you found him, remained sat on his lap. When he ran his right hand through his hair, the sleeve of his oversized shirt went down a little, giving you the chance to catch a glimpse of his tattoo that says, “NO 1 LIKE ME.”

Once again, you failed to see the corners of his lips twitching upward when he noticed your eyes raking over his form, eyes twinkling in amusement. You’ve only seen each other thrice, but for each time that you did, something that would never overlook his attention was the way you’d always examine his clothing. It was cute, though. And it’s not like he doesn’t do the exact same thing every time as well, anyway.

His smirk disappeared as quick as the speed of light the moment your eyes met his, making you avert your gaze immediately. It’s not like you were uncomfortable, but rather because his eyes just hold such an intense aura within them that never fails to make you feel intimidated—in a good way, you assume.

“You know,” you began to speak, although still refusing to meet his eyes, “I still don’t know what your name is, and we’ve crossed paths three times already…” Due to the lack of a response from him, you were quick to assume you were probably overstepping a few lines.

What if he doesn’t really want your connection with each other to go way past two people who coincidentally see each other in the most random circumstances and places? What if he liked things better this way—you not knowing his name, and him not knowing yours?

But your thoughts dissolved into nothingness the moment he finally spoke up, his voice a little softer than you could recall as he says, “Kim Hongjoong.” Of course his name is just as beautiful as he is. Were you really surprised at this point?

“Kim Hongjoong,” you let his name roll off your tongue, and something you failed to notice yet again due to how you were still refusing to face him was the way his breath hitched—again. “What about you?”

He was quick to come up with a question to ask in order to keep his composure, head tilting ever so slightly, secretly anticipating for you to turn your head towards him again. And it seems luck chose to be on his side today, with the way you did exactly what he wished for you to.

“Me?” You asked, and he nodded. “Yeah, you.” You were hesitant at first—once you and Hongjoong finally exchange your names with each other, there’s no guarantee of which direction your affiliation with him would lead to.

Sure, you may have been overanalyzing things a little—maybe he’s just asking for your name with the hopes of being friends, but even so, you couldn’t help but wonder where you were both headed, because even if you were only a potential friend to him, he certainly wasn’t one for you.

You knew the risks of dating way before you even first entered college two years ago. If anyone were to wish for a relationship, the best periods of time to do so would either be in high school or adulthood. High school’s for the cheesy moments, the sneakily exchanged glances during class, the chasing each other by the fields, the heartfelt confessions during prom night. You’d break up with each other over something childish yet would be serious if you were to be at the age of a high school student, and you’d forget all about it the moment you step into your college life.

Getting into a relationship once you have grown into an adult would be the best option out of all, because as we grow older, we learn more things about life each day. Relationships during high school are ruined pretty easily usually because of how both parties aren’t emotionally mature enough to handle conflicts, and such an occurrence can be easily avoided if you’re both functioning adults with a better perspective on most things in life. It’d certainly be more mature compared to the aforementioned.

But relationships during college aren’t exactly the brightest of all. College students are around the ages where all you’d ever want is to mess around and have fun no matter the cost knowing you’ll barely ever get the chance to do so once you step into adulthood. So, with that being said, relationships being taken seriously by college students isn’t really a common occurrence. They live to fuck around and find out, and that’s all that’s there to it. You’ve seen girls getting their hearts shattered left and right by stupid men who seem to only think with their hormones, and you know how bad it gets.

From struggling to balance their studies and relationships to completely losing focus on their goals because apparently a conventionally attractive yet emotionally unintelligent man is worth crying over more than great examination results were, all you know about college relationships is that it either plays out surprisingly well and lasts long, or it could initiate the beginning of your downfall for years on end. You swore you’d never try it out, afraid to end up being part of the latter.

But as hard as relationships during college seem, resisting your undeniable attraction towards the man sitting in front of you also proved to be just as difficult with the way all you could think about at the very moment was how those soft hands of his clicking on the table while patiently awaiting your response would feel against your skin. It wasn’t much of a surprise for you, anyway—you knew you were doomed the moment your eyes first met his in an empty aisle and you ended up staring at him longer than you should’ve.

You knew there was no point in considering the pros and cons of deepening your connection with someone who wasn’t meant to play a role of just a friend and nothing more in your life—and might I add, someone you’re heavily crushing on yet would rather jump off a cliff than admit it to yourself and accept the terms, knowing even if he asked for your name that day at the park or that one time in the bookstore, you would’ve given him what he wanted with zero hesitation anyway.

And so you do.

He proceeded to mirror your actions from earlier, rolling your name out of his tongue—and you swear your name hasn’t sounded so beautiful until now. “That’s a beautiful name you’ve got,” he starts, and when you finally gained enough courage to turn your head to the side and meet his eyes, you were met with that toothy grin of his you didn’t seem to be able to get enough of, “it suits you pretty well.”

“Oh, I—” You weren’t sure whether to be thankful for your friend for saving you from embarrassing yourself over not knowing how to react to Hongjoong’s unprovoked compliment, or to completely loathe her for cutting in between your conversation with him once again.

You’ve been getting deja vu over the parallels between everything that’s been happening right now that has already happened before although under a different situation way too often it’s actually starting to make your head hurt.

The loud ringing of your phone echoed around the empty library, and once again, you found yourself contemplating between pressing the green button or the red one. But not this time, no. You figured she’s probably calling to ask you whether you’ve borrowed the old book from the library yet, and that’s a question you were capable of answering either through text or personally, so you clicked on the red button, hearing Hongjoong let out a confused hum. “Why’d you decline?”

Because I’m feeling selfish right now and couldn’t care less about my roommate and her linguistics crush, especially not when you’re sitting right in front of me looking so breathtakingly beautiful like you’re an angel from an art museum that came to life and escaped to taste the wonders of life, was what was begging to escape from the pit of your mouth, “It’s probably about the book, so I’ll just talk to her in person later,” was all that came out.

And with the way he looked at you as if he was waiting for you to say something else, you knew he knew of your thoughts. Thankfully, he was kind enough not to bring it up. Or he probably didn’t notice at all. Truth be told, you’re hoping the latter was the case.

“What’s up with your roommate and books, anyway?” He asked curiously, although you could tell there was a hint of playfulness with the way he spoke. “You mean what’s up with her crush from her linguistics class and books?” You shrugged, holding back your laughter when you noticed his eyebrows shoot upward ever so slightly with his mouth agape.

“Oh. So that’s what it’s about, huh?” You let out an exasperated sigh, faking a frustrated expression as you responded, “Unfortunately so.”

Classes had already ended a few minutes ago, but students were still allowed to stay in the library afterwards—at first, you thought the implemented policy was stupid at first, seeing how literally no one ever visits the library, but now, you find yourself being grateful for it.

You both sat beside each other as silence surrounded both of you, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that would drive you on the edge and make you hurriedly think of what you should do or say in order to dissipate the looming tension, no. The silence between you and Hongjoong was comfortable. He wasn’t demanding you to speak, and neither were you. But just as the silence was starting to grow deeper, you were drowning in an ocean of your own thoughts again—specifically, thoughts about Hongjoong.

You weren’t sure when it happened or if you were the one who moved or if it was him, but the distance between both of you was now smaller than how it was a few minutes ago—you were sitting so close beside each other you’d occasionally feel the fabric of his jeans brush against your thigh whenever either of you would move. Since he was now closer, the scent of his cedarwood perfume engulfed you completely. You thought it made perfect sense for someone like him to favor such a scent—it suits him pretty well.

Every now and then, you’d steal a few glances from your peripheral vision while he remains engrossed in his phone, chewing the inside of your cheek whenever you’d find yourself wondering what it would feel like to rest your head on those shoulders of his. You were wondering what it feels like to rest your head on those shoulders of his?

And since you’re way too focused on not making yourself too obvious, you, as usual, fail to notice him doing the exact same thing as well. He was scrolling on his phone, sure, but in reality, he wasn’t even reading any of the posts that were appearing on his feed, way too focused on the way your eyelashes would flutter so beautifully whenever you’d blink.

The awkward smile you gave him when you first met each other in the bookstore is an image he had taken a mental photograph of, the memory still lingering in the back of his head clearly. The first thing he noticed about you that day was the way almost all of the pieces of clothing you wore were adorned in ribbons, as it reminded him of himself, in a way.

But instead of ribbons, anyone could find more than a handful of silver chains attached to almost everything in his closet. You seemed to love wearing knitted sweaters and cardigans, much like how half of his wardrobe consisted of leather jackets in varying designs and colors, though most of them were black, just like how most of yours were pink. It’s amusing to him how you two were so similar yet so different all the same.

The day he went to the park with Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung’s little brother, Kyungmin, he wasn’t really any different from you. You’d never know of it much like the other way around, but even when he went to the park with the same purpose you had, he couldn’t get you off his mind. It was as if his mind was the shore, and you were the waves of the ocean constantly pushing forward after being pulled away by the tides.

So, when he came back to where Seonghwa and Wooyoung were after separating himself from them for a while to look for less crowded areas of the park they could go to, to say he was surprised to see you talking to Kyungmin would be nothing short of a huge understatement.

“What’s Kyungmin doing over there?” he asked Seonghwa and Wooyoung, to which one only laughed at while the other sighed. “He kept on insisting that the girl he’s talking to right now is a princess and wouldn’t let me hear the end of it when I told him she isn’t. Then he ran off, and the next thing we both knew was he’s already tugging on her dress.” Hongjoong’s gaze went back to you, who was now crouching to face Kyungmin eye to eye.

It wasn’t exactly like he could blame the little boy for thinking that way—you did look like a princess, especially with the beautiful dress you chose to wore that day, and not to mention, the natural look of your face he was sure people under the influence—and even those who aren’t—would mistaken as one that belongs to an angel gracing the Earth with her presence.

He couldn’t believe his very own eyes that day. When he left you by yourself when you had to answer a phone call in the bookstore, he was originally supposed to head back to the aisle you were at after checking out the other sections that seemed interesting enough to grab his attention, but just as he was about to, another one of his friends (a.k.a roommates) along with Seonghwa and Wooyoung, Mingi, messaged him, telling him to come home as soon as possible because Yunho burnt the kitchen while trying to remake a recipe he saw on his feed.

At first, he thought they were just messing around with him—a normal occurrence, at this point, but it wasn’t until Yeosang sent a video of the kitchen actually burning to their group chat. Hongjoong could no longer afford to go through all the five stages of grief looking for an apartment that would suffice for eight people, so he immediately left the bookstore and ran faster than the speed of light.

Just as he was about to cross the street the moment the lights for vehicles turned red, he started contemplating between quickly heading back to the bookstore just to bid you farewell or just heading straight to his apartment building. His phone vibrated once again, and his lockscreen was being flooded by notifications of his roommates spamming his DMs, most of them coming from Jongho and San. Only then did the answer become clear to him.

Fortunately, he was able to fix the fifth problem his roommates have created for the week on time, immediately proceeding to scold all of them, save for Seonghwa who just got home from buying groceries and was now cleaning up the kitchen. For a fleeting moment, his mind drifts back to you, making him scold the six men even more than he should’ve, not-so-slightly upset over the fact that they timed burning the kitchen perfectly right when Hongjoong was just about to head back to you and continue your conversation.

Later that night, they were messaging one another one by one privately, each of them all saying the same thing: “It wasn’t really that deep. What got him so riled up?” But not even Hongjoong himself knew the answer to the question he never knew they were thinking of.

He thought he wasn’t going to see you again, and it never failed to make him feel confused whenever he found himself being a little too disappointed over it. So, when he saw you again—talking to his friend’s little brother, if anything, he was at a loss for both words and thoughts. The moment Kyungmin pointed to where he, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa stood, your eyes met for a fleeting second, and with the way he saw your eyes widen ever so slightly, he felt a little too happy over you recognizing him, so he did the first thing he thought of—trying to look as unbothered as possible even though his heart was literally spinning around, begging to be freed.

He failed to realize how smiling at you would’ve been a better option until he saw the way the corners of your lips went downwards ever so slightly upon seeing the look on his face, and before he could even clear things up by waving at you or literally anything to make sure you know he knows you, your gaze was already back on Kyungmin, and by the looks of it, you didn’t seem like you wanted to look his way yet again. To be fair, neither would he.

And as usual, he still couldn’t get you off his mind that day—though this time, it was worse, especially with the realization over the fact that he could’ve walked up to you yet didn’t dawning over him. He was beyond frustrated, to say the least. So, so frustrated he couldn’t even sleep.

Figuring his emotions were way too all over the place for him to be able to fall into a deep slumber, he sat up with a groan, stumbling over with his steps as he went to the living room, finding Yunho sitting by himself on the couch while watching a film that seemed to be a coming of age romance movie.

“What are you all up and about for?” Hongjoong walked around the couch, sitting beside Yunho as the cushion underneath him sank. “I could ask you the same question, you know,” Yunho responded, not even sparing Hongjoong a glance, obviously way too focused on the movie playing on the television screen in front of him.

“Just frustrated over some things.” Hongjoong leaned against the couch, sighing as he initiated a staring contest with the ceiling. With this, Yunho was quick to reach for the remote, pausing the movie before shuffling around so he could face Hongjoong while sitting down. “What’s the matter?”

“Do you ever think about something so often it starts to make you feel frustrated?” His question had Yunho pondering for about a while, making him think about it thoroughly.

“Depends on what this “something” we’re talking about is. I’m pretty sure that would mean two different things, depending on whether it’s “something” or “someone,” so which one of the two is it?” Hongjoong was hoping Yunho wouldn’t bring it up, but oh well. If he’s screwed, then he’s screwed.

All he had to do was stare right into Yunho’s eyes, hoping he’d put two and two together—and luckily, he did. “Since when?” Yunho was surprised, given how Hongjoong isn’t exactly the type of person who’d let himself be bothered by such things. Still, he wanted Hongjoong to tell him all about it, thankful he trusts him enough to do so.

“I don’t know, honestly. We just met by coincidence in the bookstore a few blocks away about a few weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to go through a single day without my head being filled with thousands of thoughts ever since then.”

“By coincidence?” Yunho tilted his head, and Hongjoong was quick to rewind and tell him all about it. After Hongjoong was done telling him about how it started and how it’s going so far, Yunho found himself smiling, already knowing what was up with Hongjoong, while he himself was still left in the dark.

He resorted to convincing Hongjoong to get up and do all the work himself so he’d be the one to come to terms about his feelings first-hand. “You know, nothing’s gonna happen if you keep on refusing to make a move. You can’t just expect your paths to cross once again if you’ve been staying at the same spot for days on end.”

And that was when he messaged Wooyoung privately once he was back in his room, asking if he was free to hang out for the upcoming day and if he wouldn’t mind tagging Kyungmin along with him. You’ll never know he was the reason behind Kyungmin’s second visit to the park, and part of him thinks things will be better off that way.

However, both of you were going through your own predicaments unconsciously. Until now, you still don’t know why you’re thinking of resting your head on his shoulder, and in his case, he still doesn’t know why on Earth he actually debated between bidding you farewell or saving his apartment from its impending doom.

It didn’t help how you weren’t really one to open up to people, so you were left all alone trying to fix the tangled wires inside your head, unlike Hongjoong, who was blessed enough by the gods to have a friend like Yunho. Still, despite being provided moral support and advice, he wasn’t any less oblivious to his feelings than you were.

“What’s it like?” You asked all of a sudden, surprising both Hongjoong and yourself. Much to your surprise, though, Hongjoong let the blooming conversation flow freely as he said in response, “What do you mean?” You shrugged, fiddling with yet another loose stitch of your sweater—you figured you’d definitely have to fix it up once you get home later.

“You know… having a lot of roommates.” You weren’t sure why you were asking about his roommates when you could’ve asked a question about him instead, yet you were blissfully unaware of the fact that Hongjoong was more than happy to hear you ask about his roommates—his best friends.

“It’s fun on most days, yet it’s also very frustrating sometimes. Living with seven people doesn’t exactly sound like the best experience when you’re living in an apartment that can barely fit all of you—even more when more than half of us have proven themselves deserving to be banned from the kitchen.” You laughed at his words, his laughter soon following after, watching you attempting to wind down your voice with a toothy grin on his face. “Why’s that?” You managed to ask in between your stifled laughs.

“Remember when we first met?” How could you ever forget? “Yeah, what about it?” You tilted your head, wondering what your first encounter had to do with Hongjoong’s roommates burning their kitchen. “While you were on a phone call with someone, I was in the middle of checking out the other sections, but just as I was about to head back to where you were, they spammed our group chat with messages, each of them telling me to head back home as soon as possible. Wanna guess why?”

“Please don’t tell me someone actually set the kitchen on fire.” Hongjoong only laughed in response, shaking his head. “Unfortunately.” Your eyes widened slightly, scoffing in disbelief. “You’re lying, aren’t you?” This time, it was now Hongjoong’s turn to look at you in utter disbelief, making you think he was actually offended over you not believing his story for a split second.

“Don’t wanna believe me? Here,” he said, showing you the video waiting to be played on his phone screen as he gestured for you to press the button yourself. As the video started playing, a look of shock spread all over your face as you watched the fire get worse as the video progressed, hearing screams from people whom you could only assume were his roommates.

Someone draped a towel over the flames, hurriedly stepping back when his solution turned out to be an additional problem with the way the fire grew even more. “Mingi, are you fucking stupid?! Take that towel back!” to which the man named Mingi responded with, “No way in hell! San, you do it!” followed by another, “Don’t drag me into the consequences of your stupidity!”

You heard someone from the background yell Hongjoong’s name, and as the camera was turned towards where the sound came from, you were met with the sight of a man who you recognized as Wooyoung hiding behind someone who seemed to be way too calm considering the fact that the kitchen was literally being set on fire—he was even eating an apple, if anything. The video switched to the front camera, revealing a man who, this time, seemed to look too happy despite the fire unfolding right behind him, and he even had the guts to giggle and wave to the camera.

Needless to say, you were left speechless, and the video wasn’t even halfway finished yet. You pressed his screen to pause the video, being met with the sight of him contemplating whether to laugh over the memorable (strangely enough) moment or to let his grudges come crawling back at him.

Looking at the expression on his face, you couldn’t help but laugh, your voice echoing around the quiet halls of the library. “So that’s what living with seven people looks like…” With the way you spoke, Hongjoong was unsure whether you meant it in a good way or not—and if he were to be honest, that’s exactly what made your reaction even more amusing.

“That’s also why I wasn’t able to come back to the aisle after looking around. Sorry,” he apologized, sheepishly rubbing his nape. You were quicker than a millisecond to dismiss his apology, shaking your head as you reassured him that it’s fine and a while has passed ever since that day anyway so you don’t really mind anymore. You had that awkward smile on your face again, and Hongjoong had to put every fiber in him to use in order to hold himself back from just melting right there and then.

Suddenly, your phone rang yet again, cutting your conversation with Hongjoong short. Assuming it was your roommate calling you, you were about to decline the call, but it wasn’t until you read the contact number’s nickname and realized it was your mother calling you and not your roommate.

You were quick to tidy yourself and hung your pink crocheted crossbody bag over your shoulder, reaching for the book that was resting in front of Hongjoong by the table, retracting your hand for a split second when you realized you hadn’t even told him yet that the book your roommate wanted you to borrow from the library was the one he was reading before you approached him.

He looked up at you from his seat, tilting his head. “You need it?” he asked, making you nod. “If you don’t mind, of course, it’s just—” Hongjoong waved you off, gesturing for you to take it, swearing he doesn’t mind at all. Just as you reached for the book once more, his hand rested on its cover at the same time, pushing it towards your direction. It didn’t take you longer than a second to realize your hands were on top of his. Your phone has stopped ringing, and the sound has now been replaced with your thundering heartbeat.

You were the first one to break the contact, taking your hand off his. Too focused on trying to look calm—you have no idea why having composure seems to turn itself into an almost unattainable challenge whenever Hongjoong was around—you fail to notice the way a hint of disappointment flashed on his eyes with you taking your hand off so soon, and it disappeared as quick as it showed up when you reached for the book once more the moment his hand was no longer sitting atop of it.

“I, um, have to go,” you stumbled over your words as you shoved the book inside your bag, “I’ll… see you around?” You sounded way too hopeful for your liking, but before you could take your words back and replace it with something more neutral, Hongjoong beat you to it by grinning at you widely, nodding at your words. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

But he doesn’t, and neither do you.

Three weeks have passed, and the increasing amount of his library visits were starting to become more noticeable to the seven men Hongjoong shared his apartment with through every passing day. They all went to the same university, so they knew just how annoyingly cruel the campus librarian was, which made things even harder to piece together for them. Hongjoong had also spoken up once about how much he hates the librarian during one of their drinking games when he was under the influence, so his frequent visits at the library were really confusing—save for one person who had an idea what the reason behind it was.

“You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?” Mingi tilted his head at San who sat across from him, enthusiastically munching on the desserts he ordered while taking a few sips of his coffee in between—clearly, he didn’t hear Mingi’s question. “You’ve noticed it, right?” Mingi repeated his question, this time a little louder in hopes of getting an answer from San. His attempt proved to be successful as San finally looked up at him with a confused expression on his face. “Noticed what?”

“Oh, you know. Hongjoong and his sudden library star user transition,” he shrugged, and San let out a hum of realization after being given context. “Yeah, I have. What about it, though?” Mingi scoffed in disbelief, having a hunch that San was just playing dumb. “Come on, San. Don’t you think it’s strange? Because I do.” But the aforementioned man’s eyebrows only furrowed as he asked once again, “What is?”

“What isn’t strange about it? You know he hates the librarian just as much as we all do, right? Don’t you ever wonder what on Earth is he stopping by the library everyday for?” For a few seconds, the only thing San could do was stare at Mingi from across the table, mouth slightly agape as if he was trying to connect the dots inside his head. And then it clicks—finally. “Oh… Oh. I mean, now that you’ve mentioned it, it does seem a little weird.”

“Right? I asked Seonghwa last night if he knew anything about it, but he told me Hongjoong hasn’t brought up anything related to the library to him so far. I mean, sure, yeah, Hongjoong likes to read, so normally, it would make sense for him to visit the library every now and then—but everyday? Is he reading a compilation of the terms and conditions of every existing app?”

“You may be overanalyzing a little, don’t you think?” A familiar voice spoke up from behind San’s seat at the cafe, making him turn his head around as Mingi only had a smile on his face, already having seen the man enter the cafe before he even approached the two of them. “You know you can visit the library for more than one reason, right?” He gestured for San to move aside, opting to sit beside him as both of them were now facing Mingi, who sat on the opposite side of the table.

“And what would those other reasons be?” Both Mingi and San asked in unison. “I don’t know, maybe the usual things that happen when you’re a college student on the brink of graduation with an eye for attractive people?” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yunho, what the hell are you even talking about right now?”

Yunho rolled his eyes, leaning against the cushion of the sofa he sat on. “Think it through, Mingi. Hongjoong wouldn’t even dare to consider visiting the library everyday, had he not been developing feelings for a certain person he often sees there.” Both Mingi and San knew Hongjoong as someone who wasn’t quite fond of the idea of anything romantic, but it’s not like they knew what Yunho knew, anyway, so they resorted to laughing Yunho’s words off.

“You’re not onto something, Yunho,” Mingi began, and San continued his words, saying, “you’re on something.”

“Are you seriously accusing me of being high on a Saturday afternoon? Being high, if anything?” Yunho stared at the two men who were now proudly laughing over their joke in disbelief, frowning when he realized they didn’t even plan on taking his words with a grain of salt. “And are you seriously trying to get us to consider your idea of Hongjoong being hit by Cupid all of a sudden?”

“It’s not an idea, San. Just—would you just listen to at least a goddamn word I’ll be saying?” Yunho ran his hand through his hair, and only then did Mingi and San stop with their antics. Moments of Yunho being upset were extremely uncommon, and whenever it would happen, all of them would always fail to hear the end of it. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Where did your theory come from, anyway?”

“For the second time now, it’s not a theory. It’s a possibility loosely based on a conversation Hongjoong and I had a few weeks ago while you were all asleep.”

“So… a theory?”

“God, no!”

“It is, though.” San backed up Mingi, making him pat his back with a grateful expression on his face. “See? He gets me.” Yunho only responded by rolling his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s a theory or not—just hear me out, please.” San could tell Yunho was growing tired of their shenanigans, so he was quick to lock in and get serious. “Shoot.”

“It was around three in the morning already, and I was in the living room watching a movie. Hongjoong suddenly came out of his room and sat beside me, and he asked me a question I wouldn’t have expected to come from him. He asked me if I’ve ever thought of something so often to the point where it drives me frustrated, and based on the look on his face that night, I assumed his answer would’ve been yes if I asked him the question instead and not the other way around. I told him it depends on whether it’s a “something” or a “someone,” and he gave me a look that non-verbally told me it was the latter in his case.”

“So, to sum it all up, he likes someone who visits the library often?” Mingi asked, and Yunho shook his head. “From the looks of it, I’m pretty sure he’s waiting for a certain someone to visit the library everyday.”

“Why the library, though? And why would he have to do it everyday? Doesn’t that sound a little creepy? Or maybe that’s just me, but, I mean, there’s no way you don’t find it weird at all, Yunho,” San said, wondering why on Earth would Hongjoong have to visit the library everyday just to see whoever his crush was.

Yunho sighed, “That’s not exactly the case, you know.” Both Mingi and San’s attention were completely hooked once again, both of them leaning forward on the sides of the table they sat on, eager to listen to what Yunho was about to tell them.

“What I’m thinking is that Hongjoong probably last saw his crush in the library, and that whoever that person is went out of town—but Hongjoong doesn’t know, hence why he keeps on visiting the library everyday in hopes of seeing his crush again.”

“That’s… oddly specific,” Mingi gave Yunho a skeptical gaze, whereas San remained drowning in his own thoughts. “The fact that your theory is actually highly likely to be correct is what scares me,” San said, finally speaking up after a few seconds of silence.

“It’s not a—”

“Yeah, yeah, not a theory! We get it!”

It’s been three months, at most. You wanted nothing more but to leave your hometown and head back to your apartment—you never liked the suffocating feeling the walls of your mother’s household would always give you. You’re starting to miss hearing your roommate’s loud snoring in the brink of dawn, too. You wonder how she’s holding up—it’s not really your thing to keep in touch with people while you’re away as it only makes you miss them even more, and this is something you fortunately remembered at the last minute to tell her before you left.

Your mother had contacted you that time you were hanging out with Hongjoong in the library to tell you to head back to your household as she and her garbage of a boyfriend had scheduled a three month vacation for themselves, leaving you the responsibility to watch over their house while they go out and enjoy their lives to its fullest. How pathetic.

You vividly remember feeling your heart ache with flames while you had to fight back your tears while packing your things—trying so hard to convince your roommate—who you assumed by that time was probably hanging out with the guy from her linguistics class—that you were fine when she was on the other line of the call while you were informing her about your sudden vacation, even though it was painfully obvious you weren’t by the way your voice kept on trembling with every word you spoke.

It didn’t help that all you could think of while spacing out while waiting for the train you took to arrive at its destination was the way Hongjoong’s eyes widened ever so slightly when you placed your hands atop of his by accident, as well as the way he’d flash you that toothy grin of his every single time you’d find yourselves staring into each other’s eyes.

No, it really didn’t help. Especially considering the fact that you don’t even know why the hell you were thinking of him when you were supposed to be upset because of your parents. It really, really didn’t help how thinking of him ended up painting a small smile on your face that was quick to disappear the moment you snapped back into reality.

Yet here you are now, mindlessly staring outside the window of your childhood bedroom, watching the sun slowly fall into a deep slumber as you wonder what Hongjoong could have possibly been doing by the other side of the world. Part of you regrets not taking the old book you borrowed from the library with you, but at the end of the day, you borrowed it to help your roommate forge a connection with her crush, and not with your own, for heaven’s sake. Wait, what?

And then it hits you—he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know you’re out of town and will continue to be for three more days. You wonder if he thinks of you as much as you do of him. You wonder if he’s out there, waiting for you. You wonder if he wonders what you’re doing right now as well. You wonder if he’s concerned about you.

“Oh, God, I can’t do this anymore,” you buried your face in your hands in frustration, sighing heavily as you parted your fingers to glance at your phone placed by your bedside table. Its screen, although pitch black, felt as if it was glaring directly at you, taunting you to take it and just say “screw it” and break your no-contact-during-vacation rule.

And you did, in fact, say, “Screw it.”

Quickly scrolling through your contacts, you wasted no time and immediately dialed your roommate’s number, the constant ringing of your phone echoing around the almost empty surroundings of your bedroom. Most of the things you left here before moving out have already been thrown out, it seems.

“Oh my God!” The screeching of your roommate from the other end of the line made you jolt in surprise, hissing as you felt your ears ring due to how loud her voice was. “Is this real?! I thought you said you wouldn’t call me until you’re back here! What happened?! Is something wrong?! Are you okay?! ARE YOU—”

“Calm down! Do you want me to go deaf or something?” Your voice was as calm as ever, a stark contrast to hers. “Did you really miss me that bad?” Chuckling, you await her response, which arrived faster than a millisecond.

“Did I miss you? Did I miss you? You have no idea how quiet it has been in here ever since you left! I have no one to annoy and it’s slowly driving me insane…” she let out an exasperated sigh, making you laugh. “I’ll be taking that as a yes, then.”

Your roommate clears her throat, going back to the topic at hand. “Seriously, though, why’d you suddenly decide to break your no-contact rule? Are you alright?” Concern was evident in her voice, and it almost made you tear up. You failed to realize just how much you missed her until now.

“I’m still breathing, that’s for sure,” you joked, laughing after hearing her groan as she said, “Now’s not the time for your jokes! Did something bad happen over there?”

“No, not really, but… well, you know, I’m not supposed to come back until Friday this week, but I really don’t think I can stay here for any longer. I’m all alone because my mother and her boyfriend are out on a vacation, and I haven’t had anyone to talk to for the past few months I’m not used to waking up because of my alarm and not because of your loud snoring, you know?”

Truthfully, you really did miss her. But even if you knew she was not the only reason behind you desperately wanting to leave your hometown, you figured you’d have to tell her all about it another time—just not now.

“I can’t tell whether you meant that as a compliment or an insult…” she sighed, making you erupt in a fit of laughter. Darkness was now starting to consume your surroundings, with the moon all up and about. Your bedside lamp is now the only source of light your bedroom has. “Do me a favor and take it as both?”

“Haha, yeah, real funny. I really hate you, you know.” You could tell from the tone of her voice alone that she was rolling her eyes, making you laugh once more—she seriously had to stop, or else you were certain you were gonna have to go to sleep with an aching stomach. “I don’t think you do, though…”

“You know me too well,” she sighed, faking an exhausted tone. “Is there anything you wanna tell me about? Like, you know, literally anything? I feel like all we’ve ever been talking about lately is mister linguistics class who is my man but is technically not my man but will, one day, become my man… come to think of it, I don’t think you’ve ever talked to me about any of your crushes—”

You could still hear her voice through the speaker of your phone, but the moment her words entered your ears, they were all muffled—you were, once again, adrift in a sea of your own thoughts. In a way, she was right about the part where you never talk to her about anything regarding your romantic affiliations—but that’s precisely because you don’t even have one in the first place, and you swore to yourself you’d keep things that way until you graduate.

But right now, as your thoughts drift back to Hongjoong yet again—something that seems to have been happening way too often for your liking at this point, you weren’t so sure anymore.

“—Oh, you do like someone!” Beaming happily, she squealed like a little child winning a plushie from a claw machine for the first time, pulling you back up to the surface of reality. Surprised, you stumbled over your words, “W-What?”

“You suddenly grew quiet when I started talking about relationships, you know.” I did?

“If I were to guess, I’d say there’s a certain someone who came to your mind the moment I mentioned the word “crush” and brought up how you’ve always been so secretive with your dating life.” You could visualize the teasing smile on her face as she spoke, and it made you feel flustered. She was right, but were you really going to tell her that?

“So, who is it? Can I make a few guesses? Promise me you’ll bring a basket of candies home for me if I get it right!” It wasn’t exactly like you were doubting her—it was more on the fact that you, yourself, weren’t even sure if you actually harbor feelings for the only person in your mind right now. If you were to think about it, wouldn’t it be too soon to say you do?

Maybe it was the way he seemed to have an eye meant for seeing everything around him as diamonds in the rough—an eye able to see the best even in those already proven to be the worst. Maybe it was the way he has no fear of expressing himself freely—maybe you just admired that trait of his and wished to have it as your own. Maybe it was the way he’s always eager to thoroughly get to know the details of everything he crosses paths with—the way he reread a book five times just to look for the foreshadowed parts may sound a little silly to be used as an example, but it serves its purpose.

You don’t really know much about him, except for the fact that he lives with seven people whom you could tell he adored so much, and that he liked to design his own clothes. So for a split second, you begin to debate whether you do like him or if you just admire him as a person.

But it wasn’t until you were reminded of the way you felt sparks ignite all over your veins when his fingers first brushed past yours that day in the bookstore, the way you stared at him a little longer than you should’ve when you saw him at the park, the way you had to hold yourself back from unconsciously leaning your head on his shoulder that day in the library—maybe the way you felt about Hongjoong was a whole book itself, and you’d also have to reread it a few times to catch everything you’ve overlooked in the long run.

You may not know him at all, but right now, one thing was crystal clear to you—you wanted to.

“Do you know the…” A little uncertain at first, you trailed off, not knowing whether you should continue or not. But then again, running away wouldn’t draw you any closer to your destination. “... Do you know anyone named Kim Hongjoong?”

Silence engulfed both of you for at least ten seconds at most, until it was broken by yet another squeal of hers. “Are you for real?! The Kim Hongjoong?! You like him?! Oh my God! Wait, now that I’m thinking about it, aren’t you two, like, polar opposites, at most?”

If only she knew.

“I guess…? Why?” You decided to play along with her for now, eager to hear what she has to say. “You two would totally be the cutest couple of the whole campus! I mean, come on, think about it! He’s a punk, and you do ballet! Well, technically, you don’t, but I trust you enough to rest assured you get the reference, so…”

“You think so?” Truth be told, you could perfectly visualize the message she was trying to deliver. Subconsciously, a smile soon began to creep up on your face over the thought of you and Hongjoong walking together, the stark contrast between your styles and the way you carried yourselves being heavily obvious.

“Oh, I know so! Wait, though—when, where, why, and how did this even start? I can’t believe you’re actually telling me about your dating life now!” She beamed, but you were quick to tone her down. “Now…? I don’t even have any experience within the dating field,” you said, bracing yourself from the scream that was yet to come from her.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Yeah, called it. “You heard it right. I wasn’t hiding anything from you—there were never any secrets to be hidden to begin with.”

“So Hongjoong is your first boyfriend—” “—I think we’re skipping a few chapters here,” you immediately cut her off, turning her assumptions down as fast as you could. “What do you mean?”

“Well… remember when you asked me to buy that one psychological thriller book from our local bookstore there?” You started, continuing after hearing a hum from the other line. “That was when I first met him. He was going to buy the same book as well, but we reached for it at the same time, and, I don’t know, we kinda… talked? And…”

You continued on, starting from when you first met him to when you last saw him. At this point, you could no longer even count the amount of times she had squealed over the phone.

“Wait, so you mean to tell me you didn’t even exchange contacts before you left the library? And he doesn’t know why you left?!” You could tell she was frustrated—and to be fair, so were you. “Well, if I did, we’d be talking to each other right now, wouldn’t we?” You sighed.

“So that means it’s been three months since you… wait, hold on… three months? Like, actually?” You have no idea why she was asking for confirmation all of a sudden, yet you let out a hum of approval anyway. “So that’s why he’s been… oh my God! If you don’t come back as soon as you can, I swear!”

“Huh? Why would I need to?”

“Hongjoong’s been visiting the library everyday for three months straight now! It’s, like, one of the many things our whole campus gossips about everyday! It all makes sense now…” What?

“What?”

“I’m telling you, you need to come back before it’s too late and he loses hope!” You couldn’t help but laugh at how she seemed to be more passionate about the topic at hand than you yourself, but in a way, she also had a point. There’s no guarantee he’d continue to wait for you until you’re finally allowed to leave your mother’s household.

And that was all you needed to hear for you to immediately hang up and rummage through the clothes you packed with you for your vacation—you could hardly even call it such, but whatever. You have no idea why you’re in such a rush, but for the first time ever, you opted for a casual look: a white shirt with an oversized pink hoodie with a half-done zipper on top of it, paired with shorts that weren’t even visible due to the hoodie’s length. You quickly slipped on a pair of white socks and wore your pink converse afterwards, having to re-do the shoelaces about three times due to messing it up over and over again because of how you were in such a rush.

You didn’t even have time to stand in front of your mirror to see what you looked like—your mind was set on coming back to you and your roommate’s apartment as soon as you could.

For a minute, you were stuck in a debate between following what you had to or what you wanted to. You knew for sure that dire consequences were to wait ahead of you if you were to follow the latter, but you could no longer find it in you to care. You had to follow your heart.

Sighing under your breath, you finally got yourself to twist the doorknob open, being met with the cold breeze of the night. Perhaps it wasn’t the best decision to wear shorts, but it’s too late to reconsider things now, is it? Quickly locking the door with your keys in hand, you wasted no time in sprinting to the nearest train station, not wanting to waste the chance that laid itself upon you.

“Mind explaining what’s been going on with you lately?” Seonghwa asked, hands on either side for support as he leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes boring directly into Hongjoong, who was standing across him, too busy spacing out that Seonghwa was certain he didn’t hear anything at all.

“What?” Hongjoong’s voice was a little slurred, and one could easily tell he lacks sleep. “I said, do you mind explaining what’s been going on with you lately?” Seonghwa enunciated his words so Hongjoong could hear him better, only for the said man to respond with a chuckle.

“You really gotta stop overanalyzing everything around you, Seonghwa.” Yet the aforementioned man wasn’t having any of it. He knew very well of Hongjoong’s tendencies to deny his own struggles—even to himself, always refusing to admit he’s going through something even though it’s already crystal clear. Of course, Seonghwa and the rest knew to respect his boundaries and not pry further, but the circles under Hongjoong’s eyes were starting to grow darker, and he just couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

“I’m not buying your excuses this time, Hongjoong. Clearly, you’re forcing yourself to go through something all alone again.” Seonghwa sighed, brows furrowed in concern as he took in Hongjoong’s appearance.

“What? Like it’s the first time I’ve ever done so?” Hongjoong chuckled, although it was easy for Seonghwa to tell he was forcing it upon himself. “You know you can’t keep everything to yourself forever, right? They’re all worried about you, and so am I. Look, you don’t have to tell me all the details, okay? Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“How on Earth am I supposed to feel when someone tells me ‘see you around’ but then they proceed to literally disappear right after those words come out of their mouth? Wouldn’t you be downing a dozen shots in one streak too?” From the way Hongjoong spoke, it was clear that he was beyond frustrated. His words came out slurred and raspy, and even Seonghwa himself was surprised he understood what Hongjoong said.

Brows furrowed in confusion, Seonghwa leaned forward from the counter, clearly not knowing what the hell Hongjoong was talking about. “Woah, woah, alright, calm down. Where’d all this even come from?”

“It’s been three months—three months, Seonghwa. Disappearing without a word is one thing, but not showing up for three months is just absurd, isn’t it?” Hongjoong groaned, running his hands through his hair. Still confused, Seonghwa attempted to ask for a little more context. “Who are you even talking about?”

“Her, Seonghwa. The girl whose name I could’ve gotten sooner, had those stupid goons not decided to burn our kitchen. The girl Kyungmin mistook for a princess.”

Oh.

Oh.

So it all makes sense now. It now makes sense that Hongjoong scolded the rest of them for almost burning their apartment way too harshly than he normally would have. It now makes sense why he caught Hongjoong staring at the girl from the park longer than any other person would have. It now makes sense that—does this mean what Seonghwa thinks it does?

Hongjoong likes someone? The Hongjoong, who swore he’d never allow himself to get into a relationship yet again after a bad falling out with one of his exes a few years ago? The Hongjoong, if anything?

“Can I take a wild guess and assume she’s the reason behind your daily library visits?” Seonghwa asked carefully, not wanting to hit a wounded spot by accident. Hongjoong only sighed, “I wish she wasn’t. Really, really wish she wasn’t.”

“Why? Do you like her?”

Does he like you?

At first, Hongjoong refused to accept the terms. He knew very well of his promise to himself not to fall for anyone again, tired of experiencing the same hardships that came along with it over and over again. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking of you as often as he does. He knew he shouldn’t be letting you affect him in the simplest ways possible.

Yet here he was now.

“I tried to stop myself, you know. I really did. But I just—I couldn’t. I didn’t have it in me to forget about her just like that, even if she’s been gone for three months straight now and I don’t even know where she is.” Seonghwa could tell Hongjoong meant every word he said. It was still mildly surprising, but the words came out of his mouth so smoothly it was enough to tell Seonghwa he was really being genuine.

“I know I look stupid waiting like a dog in the library everyday, hoping I’d be met with her awkward smile when I turn my head towards the door whenever I hear it open, but I just—I can’t, you know? I can’t stop. Not when the last words we spoke to each other was about seeing each other around. I can’t help but wonder if I messed up unknowingly, somehow.”

Seonghwa’s gaze softened, stepping forward to gently caress Hongjoong’s shoulder in a comforting way. “Why not go on a midnight stroll? I think you really need one right now. I’ll make sure they won’t burn the kitchen again this time, okay?”

“You really know how to make me feel better, don’t you?” Hongjoong chuckled, looking upwards to prevent his tears from falling down. “I’m gonna need you to remember the fact that we’ve known each other since we were kids. Of course I’ll know that,” Seonghwa sarcastically said, although a smile was plastered on his face.

At this point, you were certain your legs were about to give up before you could even reach your apartment. The train you took had a major malfunction in the long run, but you didn’t have it in you to wait for 30 minutes until the train would start working again, so you did the only thing you could—run. Okay, that was most likely not the correct solution, but it wasn’t like you had any other choice. You need to head home at least before 8:30AM tomorrow, since that’s usually when your mother would call you to ask how you, or rather, her house, is doing.

You stopped between your tracks to catch your breath, hands on your knees as your chest heaved with exhaustion. You decided to walk for at least a few minutes for now so you could regain enough energy to start running again later on, knowing there was absolutely no way you’d be able to keep on sprinting without passing out in the middle of it.

You were walking on an empty road, the dim lamp posts and the convenience stores from a distance being your only sources of light. As you were peacefully admiring your quiet surroundings, you spotted a coastline from a fair distance besides the road, only about a few steps away. As you drew closer to where the waves of the ocean met the sand, you saw a figure from afar sitting on a boulder all by themselves.

Except it wasn’t just a figure.

Your heart started racing, eyes widening in surprise as you focused your gaze on the person’s hair—you couldn’t have been mistaken. You know exactly who that split-dyed hair belongs to.

Before you even knew it, your feet had a life of its own, running towards where the figure was sitting even though your legs were literally about to give up after running for half an hour without stopping.

“Hongjoong?”

He turned around almost right after you called out his name, eyes all puffy and widened in surprise, blinking repeatedly as if he was trying to process the fact that you were standing right in front of him.

“It’s you.”

You no longer even cared if your actions were way too straightforward, immediately engulfing him in a warm, tight embrace as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Hongjoong—I’m sorry, I just…” Your voice came out as nothing but trembling whispers blending it with the midnight breeze.

For at least a few seconds, all he did was stand still, not an ounce of his body reacting to your touch. Afraid he might not have been comfortable with what you were doing, you were quick to take a step back, removing your face from his neck.

Yet just as you were about to release the grip you held around his body, he was quick to wrap his arms around yours, this time being the one to embrace you tightly. Hongjoong’s arms envelop you, holding you tightly against him. The warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his breath—it’s an entirely new feeling, yet it felt soothing all the same, as if this was where you were always meant to be.

You let yourself let loose in his embrace, feeling the tension and worry of the past three months slowly melt away. You close your eyes, savoring the moment as you bury your face in his shoulder. The subtle scent of his cedarwood cologne that you missed so much mixed with the salty sea air lingers in your senses, making you feel grounded and safe.

His chin rests on top of your head, and you can feel him take a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to breathe you in and reassure himself that you’re really there. His embrace feels secure and protective, as though he’s shielding you from the heavy burdens of the world weighing upon you.

You notice his hesitation in the way his hands pause on your back, almost unsure of how to hold you at first. But eventually, after being allowed a little more seconds to familiarize himself with the feeling of your body resting against his, he started rubbing your back in soothing circles, making you feel lightheaded—as if all of your worries have slipped away with just a single touch.

He removes his chin from the top of your head, making you stare into his eyes with a teary gaze as he does so to yours as well. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about it beforehand, I…” you trailed off, words getting stuck in the middle of your throat after feeling Hongjoong cup your face with his hands, “... It all happened so fast, I… my mother needed me home right away, and I just couldn’t say no to her… I wish I could’ve told you beforehand, but she only told me why she needed me home when I was already there, so I couldn’t…”

Hongjoong’s gaze softens as he listens to your words. He gives you a small, understanding nod, but you can still see the hint of hurt in his eyes—his dark circles were so visible, even under the dim light of the moon. He pauses for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before speaking.

"I thought I might have done something wrong," he admits quietly, vulnerability evident with the way he spoke.. "I kept wondering if you were upset with me. It was... hard not knowing what happened.”

“When you left without a word, it felt like my world shifted,” Hongjoong begins. “We were in the library, and the last thing you said was you’ll see me around—but I didn't see you again. Not the next day, or the day after. I just kept going back, hoping you’d show up. It didn’t make sense—you were there, and then you were gone.”

“I started overthinking everything, replaying our conversations in my head. I wondered if I said something wrong or came on too strong, that maybe you didn’t want me to. I was scared that I might have scared you away somehow," he admits, and the way his voice trembled ever so slightly made your heart twist in pain.

“Hongjoong, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to leave you wondering if you ever did something wrong—I didn’t like what happened just as much as you do. I just… it��s complicated…” Truth be told, it really was.

Still, Hongjoong nodded with a faint smile on his face, reassuring you that he understands.“I know it wasn’t intentional,” he said, caressing your face with his thumb. “The nights were the hardest. I’d lie awake wondering if you hated me or if I had done something to upset you.”

You reach up to caress his face with your hands as well, staring at him with eyes that hold a swirl of emotions. “God, no, it never had anything to do with you… I’m so sorry for disappearing like that," you say softly, your voice filled with a mixture of guilt and frustration. "I wish I could have told you what was happening, but my mother... she wasn’t easy to deal with.”

As you hold Hongjoong close, you sense there’s more he wants to share, but he seems to be holding back, seemingly at war with his own emotions. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, encouraging him to express himself.

He lets out a heavy sigh, his expression a mix of longing and frustration. “I’ve been trying so hard to sort out how I feel about all of this,” he begins slowly. “I’ve been at war with my own thoughts ever since you left. Trying to keep my feelings under control, trying to convince myself it was just a worry for a friend. But it just… doesn’t add up.”

He pauses, running a hand through his hair, his gaze on a far distance. “Every day, I would tell myself I could keep it together, but I kept thinking about you so much, it was starting to drive me insane,” he admits, although a little hesitantly. “I tried to keep it down to just concern, but it wasn’t enough. My mind kept circling back to you, wondering where you were, if you were okay.”

His eyes meet yours again, making your breath hitch. “I’d go to the library every day, hoping to see you, hoping to hear your voice again. It was maddening, not knowing if you’d come back or if I’d lost you completely,” he sighs, as his grip on the skin of your waist becomes a little tighter. “I just couldn’t shake it off,” he continues, his voice quieting down.

“You were on my mind all the time, and the more I tried to ignore it, the more frustrated I became. I tried so hard to deny it, but...” he pauses, taking a deep breath, as if he’s steeling himself for what comes next.

“Oh, screw it all,” he finally mutters, as if giving in to his own feelings. “I love you, and I don’t think I can hold it back any longer.”

“You… What?” Your eyes widened in surprise, struggling to process Hongjoong’s words. Hongjoong only smiled at you in return, repeating his words, “I said I love you. I really, really do.”

“Hongjoong,” you begin softly, your voice carrying a hint of nervousness. Hearing his name slip out of your mouth sent his nerves going haywire—oh, how he missed the sound of it.

“When I had to leave so suddenly, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It was so difficult not being able to explain what happened or tell you how much you mean to me.” You pause, trying to find the right words.

“You know, I… I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone in until I graduated," you confess, your voice being a little softer than it already was. “So when I first started catching feelings for you, I was in complete denial. I didn’t know how to handle it.” You look away for a moment, feeling embarrassed.

“It was a war with myself, one I never expected to fight," you continued. “I told myself it was just a phase, just a fleeting crush. I even thought maybe I was imagining things or confusing friendship with something more.”

You let out a small, nervous laugh, trying to hide the depth of your feelings. “I even tried to tell myself that you were just a good friend, that I was misinterpreting my own emotions,” you admit. “But the more I tried to distance myself from my feelings, the harder it became. My heart kept betraying me, reminding me how much I looked forward to seeing you again, how your smile could light up my whole day.”

Your tone grows quieter as you share your struggle. “I kept thinking, ‘This can’t be happening. Not now. I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for anyone,’” you say, vividly remembering the battle with your own feelings you once faced. “But every time I thought of you, it became harder to deny it. My heart wouldn’t let me forget you, and it drove me insane. Eventually, I lost control, and…”

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to face the reality of your feelings. “Now that I’m standing here with you, hearing you pour your heart out, I just… I can’t deny it anymore,” you admit. “I’ve fallen for you, Hongjoong, and I’m done pretending otherwise.”

And that was all it took for him to inch his face closer to yours, intertwining your lips with his. The kiss was nothing short of pent-up tension being released, and you could feel every part of your body being set aflame.

His hands wrap themselves around your waist, its grip on your skin tightening every now and then. Your hand traces his jawline, soon finding itself tangled in his hair while the other one balls the fabric of his shirt into your first, feeling yourself get even more lost in the moment with each passing second.

As the kiss intensifies, there’s a sense of exploration, as if both of you are savoring the taste and feel of each other’s lips for the first time. Hongjoong’s hands slide up your back, one hand finding the nape of your neck, his touch gentle yet firm as if he was using every single fiber within his body to hold himself back, sending a shiver down your spine.

You mirror his movements, one hand now resting on his shoulder while the other presses against his back, wanting to be as close as possible. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you lost in the moment.

As your lips finally part, you both find yourselves gazing into each other’s eyes as if both of you believe the other hung up the stars in the sky. “You know,” Hongjoong began to speak. “As grateful as I am that you’re back here with me now… I can’t help but wonder where on Earth you came from...”

“Can we please save that discussion for another time?”

🪞 — lividstar.