#immediate rem sleep and dreams after falling asleep

[kimbap-r0ll]

Heya, can you do mafia gang fishes having a nightmare about hurting their s/o while cuddling them? (Like s/o they made somehow s/o bleed a lot??

Hi! Lol mafia gang fishies (I'm assuming we're talking about the one and only Octavinelle!). This sounds like an interesting ask, I won't go into the details for what kind of injury s/o might endure in case it's squeamish

Octavinelle having a bad dream about their s/o while cuddling with them

Azul

You probably have to be super close to get him to cuddle with you, he doesn't want you to get hurt while he's hugging you (his arm strength is crazy)

You woke up in the middle of the night because you felt like he was holding you tighter than usual. He was also kicking the blankets off so you were feeling a bit chilly. When turning to face him, you notice how his eyebrows are furrowed and he's breathing pretty heavily. "Azul?" you try to wake him up, shaking him a little bit but then you realize he's tearing up a bit.

Realizing yeah it's a nightmare of sorts, you shake him harder and he almost hits you in the head with how fast he gets up. Shaking his head while breathing unevenly, he looks around a little frantic and sighs in relief when he sees you. "O-oh, did I wake you up?" he looks apologetic. "Sorry about that, didn't mean to," he continues and before he gets up to grab the blankets he furiously kicked off a few minutes ago, he lifts your chin with his hand and looks you up and down. He's checking for injuries, but he'll brush it off as "I had a bad dream about you getting hurt"

He doesn't want you to be burdened by him so he won't go into details. But it was a violent dream, a little too violent he was glad someone woke him up. When you two try to fall asleep again, he'll keep brushing his fingers in your hair and occasionally brush his hands against your arms and neck, places he remembers from the dream you got injured.

Jade

He probably woke up on his own, you were still sleeping when he got shaken up by the bad dream. He notices he was crying because his cheeks are slightly wet, but he doesn't really move around in his sleep so he doesn't look too disheveled.

Looking to his side, he notices you're still asleep. He'll brush some hair out of your face to make sure the injuries he saw aren't actually there (he doesn't believe his dreams but you never know). Muttering to himself about how tired he must have been to get a dream like that, he tries to fall asleep again. If you wake up around this time, you'll probably catch him staring at you with sort of intense eyes, like he's making sure you're not going to disappear

If you don't wake up, he'll pull you closer, put an arm around your waist and close his eyes. He tries to think of other things, like his work for the next day, some nice memory you two shared recently, etc. Sometimes, his hand will trace your arm up and down, but he doesn't really move much beyond that.

Giving you a soft kiss on your forehead, he'll likely fall asleep soon after. The next morning, he looks a bit tired, but relieved to see you well. If you ask if he's alright, he'll say he's fine, not wanting you to know about the dream that occurred. "Make sure you're safe, I'll make it my top priority as well," he might say when you two head off to whatever you need to do for the day. It might sound like a simple sweet thing, but he's saying this because he was shaken up last night

Floyd

Probably woke you up because he made a little yelp and sat up immediately. You had a feeling it might be a nightmare with how he just sits and stares at the opposite wall for a few seconds without responding to your "Floyd? What happened?" that was repeated a few times

Once he finally shakes his head and calms down a bit, he'll give you a really big hug (almost chokes you) and says "I thought you were going to die!" You'll need to ask for context, but he doesn't really give you much details other than he thought you were a goner and things like that. He'll check all the places he remembers you were injured. It's probably one of the few times you see him more panicked and vulnerable than other times.

Please hug him tightly when you two are going to bed again. He'll basically hold you in a death grip while he's trying to fall asleep, but at the same time he won't tell you he was really shaken up by the nightmare. He feels like it's not something you have to worry about, so he won't give you a lot of details. Tell him you're okay and he doesn't have to worry

"That was a really bad dream, sorry for waking you up," he'll sigh, giving you a peck-like kiss on your forehead and pulling you closer to him. He'll keep his eyes on you until you fall asleep, just in case something happens, he's sort of protective so expect this to carry on for a few more nights. Either way, he'll be hugging you and occasionally giving you kisses while trying to fall asleep.

[eyrina-avatar]

Just read your shifting post. And I feel like I struggle with lucid dreaming now that my frontal lobe developed. It sucks. Do you have any advice for newbies who are attempting to shift? It’s all very new to me! Thank you in advance🫡😚💙

Hello! First of all, I want to say that I think I've stumbled upon your acc somewhere else and I thought you were a shifter because of the oc as your pfp... I guess I was right hehe🤭

also, do you mean that you wanted to use the lucid dreaming method to shift, because ofc shifting is not a lucid dream but ld can be used to shift

anyways, I think the best thing to do is to keep a positive mindset no matter what and to think of it as easy and simple, don't try to overcomplicate it

Here is a post I made when someone else asked me how do I shift:

| post | (it has some methods in there)

Anyways this response is extremely long, hopefully it's helpful:

Now as for lucid dreaming(ld), there are many ways to do it:

one. wbtb method

-set an alarm for 4-5 hrs for after when you fall asleep and then sleep. when the alarm wakes you up, get out of bed and do something (go to the bathroom, maybe do a reality check, practice what you're going to do in your ld/ how you're going to shift etc, just try to wake yourself up a bit for 5-10 minutes. You can even think about lucid dreaming or whatever. If you have a hard time falling back asleep then stay up for just 5 minutes. Or if you have a really hard time, then just stay in bed awake for those 5 minutes. Anyways, go back to bed lay down and start affirming "I'm aware I'm dreaming" over and over again until you fall asleep. From there you'll either get right into the lucid dream while still awake, you'll feel like you're getting sucked into the dream and feel your mind zooming in and out until you're in the dream straight from the awake stage and so ofc you'll be lucid. OR you'll fall asleep and your dream will be lucid. If not try again next time (but I've had good success with this method.

two. supplements

-for legal purposes, i'm not responsible or advising anyone to take any sort of medicine.

Use galantamine(I got mine from amazon). Take the recommended amount which is like 4-5mg. How to use: go to bed and set an alarm for your REM stage(4-5hrs) fall asleep, wake up with the alarm, take the galantamine and immediately try to fall asleep as fast as you can before it starts taking effect and prevents you from falling asleep which is the main problem I have from it since I had insomnia for a while so the extra boost from galantamine didn't help my sleeping problem. It's best to have the galantamine somewhere next to your bed with a glass of water. wake up, drink it and fall back asleep as fast as you can and your dream should be lucid. Only use the galantamine once a week or at least 5 days of spacing between uses so the effects don't ware off.

three. lay down, close your eyes and start moving them left and right for about 10-15 minutes until you feel like you're ready(don't move during this process so make sure you choose a comfortable position. This will trick your body into thinking that you're in REM stage. You can probably fall asleep from there(which will most likely give you a lucid dream or you continue on. When you feel like it's enough, try opening your eyes and you'll feel your body go stiff and like you can't move: sleep paralysis. From sleep paralysis, just affirm that you're in your dr or try to visualize it while affirming. You should shift quickly.

four. subliminals

use lucid dream subliminals 2-3x a day while doing anything (or at night before sleeping- it doesn't matter when you listen to it) and then at night your dream should be lucid.

top subliminals on youtube that work well:

a. lucid dream . -by V1PER

b. 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒·˚ ༘improved perilously forced lucid dreaming subliminal (LISTEN ONCE) -by kiraミズキ's domain

you can listen to it more than once

c. ❝Dreaming°// Lucid Dream Package [sᴜʙʟɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ] by Enchanted Workshop

d. ♡ Lucid Dreaming Listen Once Noonchi Subliminals by シ Jay's Nirvana ヅ (the original uploader deleted their channel but this subliminal still works)

⎯⎯⎯

Using subliminals are really easy, use it, don't doubt it and don't waiver and be like "omg when are results gonna come....is this working...I don't think it's working...I don't have results" blah blah blah because then it won't work since you're repeating that and your mind will believe those doubts since the mind is stronger than any subliminal. Just listen 2-3x and don't worry or stress about it. Best to just assume it's working and that you have results and you should be good to go.

You can also use shifting subliminals as well

As for techniques, I already gave you a link earlier on in this post but you can also use the julia method, sunni method, raven method, 5 senses method. Or you can just lay down, relax and calm down then start visualizing that you're in your dr (1st person pov ofc) and think about how things look like in front of you, some noises you might hear, some things you might smell, how the round under you feels like etc and then start affirming that you're in your dr while continue to visualize. That has honestly gotten me pretty close plenty of times.

Sorry this was so long (I know all of my shifting posts are😅). If you want any shifting sub recommendations just lmk or if you have any more questions, just hmu in my inbox or whatever❤️

.ೃ࿐୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

[threesidestoeverystory]

The Calling

I dream every night. Complex, out-of-this-world, vivid dreams. I'm convinced I'm traveling outside of not just my body, but this reality. Perhaps we all do and I'm just better at remembering it upon waking up...for at least a moment. If I don't immediately focus on the dreams upon waking before doing anything else, then they fade with a purpose. I'm left with only feelings and the occasional Deja Vu moment where the dream floods back into my waking mind at random moments in my life, which could be years later.

I have regular dreams too. They're mixed in with the crazy ones and usually occur right before waking, almost as a deterrent towards the much more interesting ones beforehand. I can dream as soon as I'm asleep too. I do not need to wait until REM sleep as they say is needed for dreaming. Or maybe I can enter REM upon closing my eyes. Either way, the dream world comes easy to me, always has. I can count on my fingers how many times I've had trouble falling asleep and I'm 32.

I've never had a nightmare either. Not one I can remember, not how everyone makes them sound. I've had dreams of an underworld type place, all sorts of types of creatures different from humans, losing people, falling, etc...but it never affects me to the level of a nightmare. It's almost as though I know I'm just observing. I have woken up crying before, but they were tears of happiness. The world as we know it had collapsed for whatever reason and people were scattered in America everywhere, left with no means of communicating via distance. I remember ending up in an underground safe point where survivors were fleeing. This had been a while after whatever doomsday prophecy was fulfilled in this reality; and I was certain I would never see anyone from my old life again. Just then I looked up and my dad walked through the entryway looking just as lost. I still can't contain the feeling of the memory of this dream when I think about it. The emotion is so powerful. The more powerful the emotion, the more I remember.

I believe something truly magical can happen when we dream if we surrender to it. I'm currently fighting that battle/lesson of surrendering to life. It's a difficult lesson to learn. My own slice of magic happened in my adulthood. On April 13, 2022, I awoke to a feeling of the highest bliss I've ever felt. Nothing could touch my mood and I radiated positivity and light. I could just feel it coming off of me. That's the best way to describe it. It lasted in strength for 3 full days and then started to fade over the rest of the week. I remembered nothing from my dreams the nigh before, but I know something mystifying happened. I should note that this was a few months after my 30th birthday (1/23) and I had been a heavy tobacco smoker for 14 years proceeding. I had tried to quit dozens of times over the years. I would get a few months in on my best attempts before caving at a social gathering or stressful moment or just because I was near it. After that morning of 4/13/22, I've never desired, touched or even thought about smoking again. Just out of thin air I no longer struggled with that part of my shadow self. Something came to me in my dreams, something of light that left its residual and removed the addiction from my mind. It's been almost 2 years and it's still going strong. I know at this point it's forever, I can feel it. I've been around people smoking, been drinking, been to social gatherings, been offered it, been stressed..all of the weak points and I'm good. I've been good. Since that day...I wish I knew what did this, but I know for certain it was some sort of divine intervention. Whether a higher dimensional being, my own higher self outside of this dimension or the Source, itself. Let religion or science explain it, but I know what I experienced. I cannot wait for the next one and for some reason, I feel like it'll be in 2025. More to come!

[this-is-where-i-hide-my-bullshit]

All the sleep websites are like "you can't dream outside of REM! If you're dreaming immediately after falling asleep then it's no a dream it's a hypnagogic hallucination!"

Dreams are literally just hallucinations where your eyes are closed and your body is immobilized! I didn't believe I was someone else, I was just in their body for for a few minutes because it was a dream! The real hallucination part was opening my eyes and seeing moving patterns on my walls, which I'm somewhat used to at this point.

Hallucinations with your eyes open are regular hallucinations, but hallucinations with your eyes closed are just dreams!

[whichsideofthemirror]

A Dream I Had

This took place in a Miraculous x X-men crossover kinda thing, I don’t know any X-men characters really but there were a bunch of people with mutant powers.

I was Chat Noir.

Not like the nice Chat Noir either, Ladybug died in the beginning of the dream and I went to the dark side hard. Changed weapons to these two curved, green and black colored blades, I grew hooves instead of feet for some reason, and I spent the first but of the dream fighting the good guys and hiding, Splinter Cell style.

By good guys I mean a bunch of people who had mutant powers on the airship I was on that, to my dream logic, were good guys just because. Oh yeah, and airship.

After a while of being a bad guy I found a guy on the airship who was worse. Won’t go into details but he did some really messed up stuff (slightly worried about my psyche, honestly). Witnessing this stuff I wanted to be a good guy again. I tipped them off and they all showed up ready for a fight, and I dropped my weapons, which lead them to paws for a minute. I explained that I wanted to be good now, naturally they didn’t trust me at all. One of them accused me of some of the awful thing’s I’d done, and I immediately chopped off one of my feet in ‘penance’ I think.

Anyway the dream jumpcut from there to a sort of training montage of my trying to win over the goodies, meanwhile the airship starts to fail to the point where it’s still flying but we won’t be able to make it home type deal. I become a good guy, still untrusted but called upon because I was powerful and stuff (main character, obv. C’mon, bad brain, better storytelling).

We confronted the really bad guy, who ended up holding someone in a hostage situation on the edge of the airship deck and eventually jumping with them, killing them both and further damaging the airship on the way down (out of spite I guess). Grieving moment with sad music that is quickly interrupted because the airship is going down in ernest now and we’re high above the mountains somewhere.

Se we rig up this massive raft with a parachute sort of thing and get everyone on so we can try and float to safety. We end up barely making it to the peak of some mountain before the raft breaks apart, all leaping off and grabbing on to the mountain to try and stay alive, very action movie. It was very hard to breathe.

We start walking/climbing down the mountain, and jumpcut to us finding a large temple-like building with a road beyond it that has a few cars driving on it. ‘Yay, we’re saved!’ we think, we were running out of food at this point and were tired and stuff, yaknow. Then we see a two-deep line of people running at us, and we go to greet them, next thing you know it’s an ambush and half of us are frozen in time.

During the dream I knew exactly what everyone’s powers were but of course I can’t remember them all now. But on the ‘enemy’ side there was someone with Timebreaker powers, someone with Vanisher powers that extended to anything they touched and willed to vanish, someone who could absorb/expel extreme elements like blizzards or lava, there was someone who could short-range teleport, someone who was like an alchemist or something, and many others, probably 15 of them.

On our side there was someone with a bow made of ice, several knife throw-y type guys, someone with a very flimsy-looking staff in the shape of the white tree of Gondor motif that would emit a stream of flame, I don’t remember them as well but there were about 25 of us. :/

Anyway ambush starts right as we’re entering the temple with Timebreaker freezing someone in time, jumping back in time, freezing someone else, jumping back, and so on. They froze about half of us in the span of maybe ten seconds before someone managed to stick a knife in their throat. Then the real fight started and all hell broke loose. It was exactly like the X-men movies where it’s just a huge punch-up and everyone fights whomever is is in front of them because everyone is running around so much.

I killed Vanisher by figuring out how their powers worked. I killed the teleporter by predicting where they would be and throwing a knife to intersect with it. The entire fight was like that, just like an X-men movie with certain people figuring out and exploiting the weaknesses of others.

The fight lasts about three minutes. Towards the end of it there were three of us left against five of them. I was fighting the extreme element lady who was taunting me about having killed so many of us. I was holding the staff that shot flames from the dead lady on my side in one hand (having lost one of my swords at some point) to help against the extreme element person. I ended up severely injuring her by trapping her in her own lava, at which point the leader of the enemy (who had some kind of hammer possibly a la Thor) grabbed her and started to retreat with the two others who were still standing. The enemy alchemist lady was on the floor injured, and threw a potion at them right before I killed her that sent out a pink spatial distortion and made them disappear.

The rest of the dream was the sort of slow, disbelieving walk around the carnage. Like that slow-mo scene from every action movie ever after the heroes have lost and inevitably someone falls to their knees and holds their face in their hands (spoiler that person was me in this dream). We’d torn up the temple real well but it was still standing, a lot of us were frozen with slight expressions of alarm, slowly fading into nothingness. Left alive were a bunch of civilians from the airship who’d been a fair bit back during the fight, and two other superpowered people from the airship.

And then I woke up.

And that was what my brain got up to in my half-hour nap.

[inactive-luv]

Circles and Squiggly Lines

circles and squiggly lines

circles and squiggly lines

Summary: Spencer comes back from a bad case, and he and Y/N take some time for themselves to wind down and connect with each other...

Pairing: (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Details: maybe pre-prison Reid, but anything works tbh

Category: fluff and smut

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: depressing thoughts, skin-to-skin closeness, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, spencer cries sorry

A/N: based off this blurb by @spenciebabie for their fic contest!

...

His eyes were the most genuine part of his body; no matter how long he slept, they always eluded to the tiredness that constantly wept over him. It had become routine, he drank his coffee and took naps when needed, but overall he never slept much. Pills didn't work, and his job offered no sincerity to his lack of a good REM cycle. That was until he met her.

...

The first night he and Y/N slept together was probably the best night's sleep of his life. He thought of the oxytocin levels after orgasm or the studies of human skin-to-skin contact aiding in the human sleep cycle, but, after that, every night with her just became better and better.

In a non-sexual way (and a very sexual way), he loved sleeping together. He loved the feeling of her skin on his or the way her hair parted naturally in her sleep to frame her face. He loved holding her close so he could feel her heartbeat press against his. And he loved the mornings when she'd wake up tucked tightly in his arms. And he adored the groggy morning voice she hated so much.

She was one of the reasons he disliked traveling for work, not that he didn't love his job at times, but he missed his girlfriend's comfort after a long day, especially after the tougher cases. This one, in particular, was in the sex crimes unit.

He didn't want to talk to Y/N about this one. He didn't want her to worry about him, even though she probably should have. They don't tell you how much this job takes saturation out of things, and it made him realize just how much he missed her.

Thankfully they solved it rather quickly before the unsub could attain more victims, but when he got home that late Friday night, he admitted to himself how worn he was. He knew when to ask for help and when he knew he could push it off, but at this point, it took a lot to admit to himself how much he needed her.

He slept for the first time in a long week that night; it was comforting to fall asleep with her arms around his, and only then had he realized just how tired he was. She wasn't a profiler herself, but she could tell what he needed, even it was as little as a comforting rub on his back which is what she did.

She drew circles and squiggly lines on the bare skin of his back while his shoulder blades peeked out, and she hummed softly against his curly hair to let him rest in a peace he missed so dearly. A peace he had left unattended for far too long that now he was reunited, he would never let go.

And he slept. He slept, and he dreamed of pleasanter things. The shampoo of her hair wafted through his nose, so his memories of her flooded his head even in his unconscious state. Both of them in their exposed states, their skin on the others, he felt safe.

...

The following day Y/N was shocked to find a pillow that had replaced her boyfriend in the middle of the night. Instead of drawing out her morning tired state, she quickly investigated where he went. She wanted to be with him after missing him for so long, but she wanted to make sure he was okay.

She put on some clothes from her hamper, desperate to find him as promptly as possible, and she discovered her mission was soon cut short when the first place she looked, she found him sitting in the bathtub with water up to his open ears.

"Spencer?" Were technically the first words she had spoken to him in the past twelve hours or so, and he immediately turned his head and sat up in her direction. "Are you okay?" He didn't respond; he just kept himself put. Afraid if he moved a muscle, the glass of his peaceful state would fall off his head and crash onto the mosaic floor.

She didn't nag him for an answer; she knew that sometimes after a case as bad as she was assuming, he could go slightly non-verbal, but she trusted him enough to tell her what he needed. But before she turns to leave the bathroom, he croaks out a small "Can-" She stops and turns around rapidly like a genie ready to help him in any way she could.

"Can you stay here?" His voice was down to a whisper, and a slight frown formed on Y/N's face. She could hear the pain in his voice. "Of course, sweetie, do you want some food or something? You hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday; I'm assuming," But her cut her off.

"I haven't been eating." This flipped a switch in her mind telling her she had a problem to fix; she could get him a snack or maybe something bigger if he were up for it, but from where she stood, he grabbed her hand softly in his wet fingertips and looked up at her with his added and puppy dog eyes. "Later?"

She listened and started to move to the sink counter and sit o the edge, but his grip on her hand didn't falter. "Do you want me to join you?" And again, he didn't give her any signal, no words, just a motionless being in his bathtub. But she knew him too well to know that his silence meant 'yes.'

Her clothes fell off easily before she places her foot in the bathtub by Spencer's, absent enough for her to be able to fit perfectly on Spencer's chest. He took her comfort in his hands and squeezed her closely, scared she could leave in seconds, but he knew she wouldn't. He knew she wouldn't abandon him when her hands intertwined with his as easily as they did last night in their bed.

She leaned in close, hearing the heartbeat in his chest thump and thump against her ear as a signal he was alive and working correctly. But she knew even broken people's hearts could pump even if they were damaged.

The thought of Spencer going through his pain alone made her weep for him. "Are you crying?" He asked when he realized how much she needed him as he needed her. She didn't try to hide her salty face; instead, she just wiggled her hands out of their crook to hold Spencer's.

Spencer's beautiful and soft hands grown worn and cracked over time. Spencer's hands that fit perfectly into hers. Spencer's hands whose held onto hers as if his life depended on it. Spencer's gorgeous hands he used to rub her back.

Small circles and squiggly lines in the formations where he knew she wasn't ticklish and wanted him to touch. Wanted him to lather in soap in the shower or place his hand when they're walking together or trace shapes when either of them was sad.

She's unsure where their idea originated from while Spencer remembers every detail. He remembers how she held onto his fist and stretched his arm to doodle funny images on his wrist in red ink. He remembers how relieved it made him feel latching onto the sensory of the shapes. And they both remember it as their comforting message to each other.

Y/N takes notice of the room around them, unaware of the life the two people in the bathtub shared. And she looked across the room only a few feet away from a bottle of bubble solution. Spencer notices it, too, and smiles softly. "I don't understand people who bathe without bubbles." She giggles, and Spencer does too, reaching his long arm to grab the bottle. "I was just tired, but you want bubbles; I'll make you bubbles."

She smiles when she drips the fluid onto the bathtub floor before sinking her hands to mix the solution, bubbles quickly forming to Spencer's smile and a soft chuckle. She messes with the feeling of it all, the lather on her skin and the colors of the liquid, and Spencer starts to as well, both of them basking in the much-needed relief of a down-time moment.

A moment neither of them needed to explain themselves, and they could be. Focusing on every little bubble and every petite sud, they soaked in the water for a long time, laughing and cuddling and playing with bubbles.

It wasn't long before Y/N found herself tightly bound in Spencer's arms again. The innocence of their bodies together lying in the soap and the fun of their bubble bath. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," She moans, giving a soft kiss to the pec she was laying on. He smiles at the feeling of his skin under her lips, a feeling he probably missed the most. The soft and delicate way she handled him and the way he held her was everything he missed and everything he loved about her.

He thinks about what would happen when he lost her.

If he lost her

He thinks about the case. The poor women who never returned home to their significant others; the even more impoverished people who would never hold their loved ones the way he was holding his own. Why was it fair they all lost their everything's when he had his waiting for him at home the whole time. He felt guilty. He felt ashamed before Y/N could notice the shift in his breath and begin her circular and squiggly movements again.

This made him smile before he whispered to her, "I'm scared of losing you." She moves up from her resting place on his chest to meet his eyeliner straight into his face. "You're not going to lose me, Spencer." She whispers back even though the feelings don't go away; they fade darker.

He leans in to kiss her, and she eagerly continues his advance. Not eagerly in a heated way but a way that explained to him just how much she cared. And through their kiss, he felt all of the love and all of the happiness she felt for him.

It felt like too much for him to deserve, but she kept giving and giving to him. Gently pecking at his lips and toying with the skin on his chest, enough to let him know it was safe to relax before Spencer had more in mind.

"Let's get out." She's curious, sure, but she listens to him and starts to reach for a towel when she emerged, bubbles sticking to her skin like honey. He watched the curves of her skin travel to her sweet softness, and when he left himself, he hugged onto her as tight as before, leaving another kiss on her lips before nuzzling his head in the safety of her shoulder.

She patted his damp back and motioned him to the bedroom, letting him lay himself down before he pulled her with him. "Spencer?" His eyes fixated on her's filled with confusion, before he let himself explain verbally. "Sleep with me? I-," He cuts himself off, waiting for her to say 'no' for her to say anything and ignore him, but instead, she listens to what he was waiting to speak.

"I want to be close to you. I want to feel you." She stands in front of him while he sits on the bed. After his wording, he leans into her chest and stomach to plant little kisses onto the skin he missed so much.

"There are other ways if you don't want to do this." It's not that she was talking him out of anything; she just hated the idea of making him uncomfortable. But he persisted. He kept his mouth on her smooth skin, hungry for the comfort and safety he felt around her, inside of her.

His once depressed state had morphed itself into a desire needing to be satiated. He wanted her. He missed her. He needed her. Watching his face travel down to her lower abdomen, she realizes just how much she needs him as well.

So she turns around and flops herself onto the bed, Spencer soon following and using his arms to support him hovering over her. His hair was dropping a little bit into her face, but he filled the space instantly with his lips on hers. She tasted his mouth with a further longing to show her love. She tasted the coffee on his lips and smelled the natural aroma of cedarwood and soft laundry in his skin.

When his lips moved to her shoulder, a soft moan escapes her lips, making him move faster, eager to be with her in all the ways he yearned for over the weeks he was gone. Both of them were already naked, so it was just their bare and slightly damp skin grinding against each-other while Spencer grew harder above her.

She loved the feeling of his growth on her stomach and started groaning louder, so excited for him. Spencer could tell how impatient she was getting, so he draws one of his fingers from the pillow she was resting on to her pelvis, halting just a little before she broke off the kiss, noticing his hesitation.

Her eyes looked up to his with a look of pure adoration; he feels his heart skip a beat. She leans back a little, wondering if he'd changed his mind about sex, but to affirm his desire, he pushes his fingers into her skin softly and dragged them further to her core, earning another weak whimper from her.

Her sounds shoot straight to his cock while he watches her eyes flutter from his movements. Gently pinching and rubbing her swollen clit, "Oh! Spencer!" was enough for him to roll his head to the side in awe before shooting his digits inside of her.

Excess lubrication formed at his fingertips while her hands flew to his shoulders, gently scratching and pulling him closer. "What do you need, baby?" He coos into her ear while gently nipping at her earlobe.

"Jesus, Spencer fuck me!"

She wails without thinking, running purely on impulse for release, anything. So he listened to her and lined himself up. Not waiting to tease her, he thrust all of him inside of her at once, earning another scream in his ear. Her gorgeous moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as they collided together.

As rough as they took it, it was purely driven by passion. A desire to be with each other fueled by the heat of an absence lasting too long for either of them to cope with.

He slows his pattern and shifts his upper body to hover right above her. Her eyes open delicately after being shut in concentration for so long. "I love you." He whispers into her breath, "I love you too." She returns, loosening her tight grip on his shoulders to ease the tension they built up so feverishly.

She can tell he's about to cum, noticing the sweat on his brow and look of focus on his face, so to tease him, she tightens herself around his aching cock. "Fuck, do that again!" He moaned over her. She did what he said, drawing another long moan and twitch in his dick.

It took a lot for him not to bust right there, but he composed himself long enough to bring his hand down to her clit again. He wanted her to come before him, so he worked his best to toy with her how he knew she loved.

"Oh, Spencer!" And many more cries erupted from her open mouth before Spencer filled it with his tongue. She took her free arms to wrap around Spencer's shoulder and pull him impossibly closer to him, longing for the release of their connection together.

When she finally did come, it took Spencer half of a second to follow her. Both of their highs colliding with each other in the minimal air separating them. Moans cascading and ricocheting off the walls as they came down together, nestled in each other's arms.

Before she wants to latch away from him, Spencer rolls off of her body to lie next to her. In her midst of weakness after her climax, she doesn't latch back onto him right away. Instead, she takes a few deep breaths before she hears Spencer's waiver.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, causing Y/N to abruptly turn in his direction to find her beautiful boyfriend, so strong and resilient for her crying next to her.

"No, no, no, no, no, baby, what's wrong?" She turned her body nearly on top of his and slid her hands up to his face to wipe away the tears streaming down. He tried his hardest to stop or at least calm himself down in front of her, but at this point, he couldn't have stopped himself.

He moaned and cried a little longer in her arms before bringing his voice to a whisper in her ear. "I feel crowded." He whispered so gently she almost didn't hear him accompanied by the sobs in between words, but she tried her best to articulate further,

"Do you want me to go?"

"No, please, I need you."

The words flow out before he can stop them, finally exposing his vulnerability to her waiting to be caught in her embrace. She shushes him, trying to calm him down, and plasters kisses all over his forehead, easing up to whisper small praises to him before he starts to slow his breathing.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I can't explain how much I need you." She listens to every heartbreaking syllable, only tightening her grip on him before whispering her own reciprocation, "You're never going to lose me, Spencer, I love you."

She kisses his forehead before he's calmed down enough to plant another firm kiss on her lips. They both know how late it is in the morning, but without words, they both tell each other it's okay to rest a little longer. Spencer falls asleep first, and Y/N just watched in awe how peaceful he looks before following him in their cuddly nap.

...

[quindolyn]

Can I have a 🦦 baby blurb of Sirius cuddling with you while Remus reads to you both- sick anon

Hiya baby, I hope this helps a little bit and I hope you like it. You’re beautiful and I love you.

Word Count: 1176

You sat curled up into a ball, nestled into Sirius’ lap, who smelled of smoke and the expensive cologne you and Remus had bought him for his birthday the year after you’d ll graduated from Hogwarts, he’d never changed it, not even after all of those years spent both as a free man and in Azkaban.

“Hey there Princess,” Sirius cooed into your ear, wrapping a single lock of your hair around his long, slender finger as he continued playing with your hair as he had been for the past half hour. “Are you still awake my love?”

You hummed affirmatively, nestling your face even further into his neck, the two of you sat on one of the plush sofas that were littered throughout the wretched house that had been Sirius’ childhood home, sitting lazily in front of the fire as Sirius nursed his scotch.

You heard the distinct clink of glass as Sirius set his now empty tumbler onto the coffee table that was positioned next to the couch.

“Come on baby,” His voice was scratchy as he looped his arms underneath your form, one under your back with the other supporting you from the crook of your knees.

“Siri,” You whined into his shoulder, throwing your arms around his neck so that you didn’t slip from his grasp. Despite your insistence that you had been awake, you had actually been slipping in and out of consciousness slowly falling into a blissful sleep. “Where are we going?”

Sirius smiled down at your truly beautiful face, taking in every ridge and bump, the way your eyelashes cast shadows on your cheekbones, the parting of your lips as you took deep, slow breaths. He was absolutely enamored with you and if he didn’t know that house like the back of his hand then he probably would’ve bumped into something, being too caught up in your beauty to notice the numerous obstacles laid out ahead of him. But thanks to his familiarity with the melancholy house Sirius was able to take it from the first floor to the third without ever lifting his gaze from you.

“S’sleep time baby, m’taking you up to bed,” He explained his voice never rising above a murmur as e reached the floor of the bedroom you shared with both him and Remus.

“No,” you protested pathetically, wriggling in his grasp in attempts to escape his strong, tattooed arms, “Too early, still got so much to do!”

“You gotta be quiet for me Princess, Rem might already be asleep and we don’t wanna make him,” The long haired man commanded as you approached the door to your bedroom, he pressed his ear to the door before pushing it open, stepping backwards into the cozy room, arguably the only room in the whole house that could be described as “cozy”.

But as both you and Sirius looked over to the sprawling four poster bed you didn’t find a sleeping Remus but rather one propped up in bed, cradling a book, with his reading glasses perched on his nose. As Sirius appreciated the fact that Remus was shirtless, displaying his strong chest littered with pretty scars you admired the way his thin lips quirked up into a smile as he reluctantly lifted his gaze from his page to meet the two of you.

“Had to carry her up here Pads? Was she falling asleep on the sofa again?” Rem asked, slipping his bookmark into the book before dropping it onto his lap.

“Yeah,” Sirius grunted as he gently dropped you onto the bed, you immediately flopping into your side to curl yourself into the fetal position, Remus’ comforting hand finding its way quickly to smooth up and down your arm. 

“Oh baby you can’t quite go to sleep yet, we gotta get you into more comfortable clothes,” Remus’s voice was low and quiet as he crooned at you.

“Don’t wanna sleep,” You huffed, turning onto your other side so that you could make eye contact with the male, “Still have so much to do!”

“And you can do it all in the morning Puppy, for now, we’ve gotta get you changed.”

You pushed yourself up on the bed so that you could take Sirius’ invitation to get you dressed for bed before quickly following himself. You were even too sleepy to shiver in pleasure as Sirius’s sturdy hands ran up and down your body. By the time you were done you were lying on the bed, wearing only a pair of your underwear and a t-shirt that might’ve been Sirius’ when it was first purchased but after years of owning it the lines between Remus’ clothing and Sirius’ blurred beyond recognition. Sirius spooned you from behind wearing one of Remus’s sweaters and a pair of his own boxers, brushing the hair away from your neck to press kisses to the delicate flesh.

“Hey, there sleepy babies,” Remus cooed at the both of you, brushing a strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear, the male closing his eyes in contentment at the contact.

“M’not sleepy,” You managed out through a yawn, undermining the point you were so desperately trying to make, “M’awake.”

After years of being together, Remus knew you far too well and knew that the only way he was gonna get you to fall asleep and like it was by tricking you into it.

“You want me to read to you (Y/N)?” He asked, moving his hand to bury itself in your hair.

Feeling Sirius nod into your neck you verbalized his response, “Yes please.”

Remus’ hand left your hir to pick up his book, scooting himself a bit closer to you so that you could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he cleared his throat before picking up on his page at the spot where he had left off.

Given your exhausted mental state you picked up about every third or fourth word, he said as he spoke, his low, soothing voice not working to revitalize you, but rather sedate you into the sleep he knew you so desperately needed.

As Sirius too was dragged closer and closer to a dream filled oblivion you felt his grip on you tighten, pulling you closer and closer until there was no space left between your two bodies, his hand finding its way past the hem of your shirt to rest in the valley between your breasts, not caressing or groping. Just resting there.

The combined noises of Sirius’ slowing breathing and the voice of your other lover which seemed to drop an octave as he read had you no longer resisting that dreaded monster you’d once called sleep but instead embracing it, falling into the dark expanse of nothingness that you once had called sleep.

You didn’t even have time to notice Remus discarding his book to cuddle up to you from the other side, pressing a kiss to your temple before he too succumbed to exhaustion, leaving the three of your curled up together in bed. Just like it should be.

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby @pinkandblueblurbs @gubleryum @zzzfour @itsmentalillness @dracofknmalfoy  

Thank you for celebrating 800 with me, this celebration is no longer open but all blurbs and headcanons from this celebration and others can be found linked in my master list which you can find on my navigation page!

[reidsnose]

neighborly pt 2

overview: just a cutesy little sequel to neighborly :)

genre: f l u f f

a/n: could i have made it longer and more domestic? yes. did i feel like i owed yall a fic and also this would be cute? also yes. as always pllssss lmk what u guys think ab it :)

masterlist

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after finding out you were neighbors you also found out you could talk to each other through your vents. though that was fun and you guys adored calling out the others name and announcing that you're coming over, some other tenant living in the building didn't enjoy it as much as you guys did. you believe his exact words were "hey love birds, shut your mouths before i crawl through these vents and do it for you". so that was cool....

but! it resulted in a knock system on your floor and his ceiling.

5 knocks means "can i come over?"

2 knocks means "yes"

1 knock means "no"

the both of you had yet to use the "no" knock. so for the time being you were constantly over at each others apartments. leaving behind all kinds of reminders of each other. in a totally platonic non platonic way. the truth was you guys never said no to the other coming over because you had fallen desperately in love with each other. desperately. and yet neither of you had made the first move.

so after spending yet another day together, you were laying on your backs now, eyes trained to the sky as Spencer pointed out constellations. when the two of you weren't in one of your apartments, you were on the roof of your building. he had shown it to you after a rough case and you two stayed up there talking for hours. from then on it was a place of comfort and joy for the both of you.

Spencer pointed to three stars lined up perfectly next to each other and began telling you the story of Orion. he got to the part where Orion vows to kill all wild animals when you interrupted him, letting out a chuckle.

"how ambitious," you joked.

"i guess thats one way to put it," he chuckled back. "but we all need ambitions. its what keeps us going."

"is that so?" you turned to face him for a second, admiring his side profile.

"yes. your ambitions for example are..." he turned to face you and you looked back at the sky to think.

now it was his turn to admire your beauty. he watched the wheels turn in your head as a small smile cracked on your face.

"my ambition is always to be the hottest person in the grocery store," you replied.

he let out a hearty laugh from deep in his stomach which was absolutely music to your ears. laughs like that weren't common for him. except when he was with you.

"pick a real ambition!" he laughed.

"i don't know! i'm content with what i have. i mean no i'm not but yes i am." you furrowed your own eyebrows at the confusing sentence you just uttered.

you were trying to be honest while also concealing your feelings for him. you were truly happy with what you had in life. friends, a family, a neighbor who works with you and is also your best friend. but that last part is what gets you. because you wanted to be more than friends.

"there isnt anything you want?" he questioned, looking up at the sky, afraid that if he stared at you for too long he'd lean in and kiss you.

"i just feel like we're lucky as is."

"us specifically?"

"i meant in general but us too. the odds of just existing are-"

"about 1 in 10 to the 2,685,000th power."

"exactly! and then i get lucky enough to exist at the same time as you..." you trailed off, looking up to avoid crying. "and then we get to actually meet each other. and work together! and in some crazy twist of events we're even neighbors! i just feel so...lucky."

you weren't sure why you were getting emotional about it, but truth be told, you didn't put into perspective how grateful you were until he asked.

Spencer turned to look at you, and somehow you were even gorgeous when you were on the verge of tears.

and the way your mind worked? don't get him started. he was, quite literally, a genius, but he had never met someone with a mind like yours. funny, sweet, smart, interesting, AND grateful.

grateful for him.

"y/n.." he breathed, completely unable to put into words how much you mean to him.

you turned to look at him, feelings you've been repressing bubbling in your chest as his eyes searched your own.

"whats your ambition?" you tried to change the subject off of what you'd just said.

"you." he whispered, heart pounding in his ears.

that was it.

you couldn't take it anymore. simply couldn't take it.

after almost two years of knowing him. after feeling yourself slowly fall in love with every moment you spent with him.

from when he came to knock on your door and found out you were neighbors.

every carpool to and from work. every sleep over and no-invitation-needed hangout. every night you two fell asleep on the couch at one of your apartments, tangled up together. every teasing comment from the team that made you both turn red. from knocking on walls and annoying your neighbors. all the countless nights you talked with him and the stars.

after all of this, that was the final straw.

that. was. it.

you leaned in crashing your lips with his. he kissed back almost immediately, skipping a beat from the initial shock of what was happening. you felt like you were floating, heat spreading all through your body before seeking refuge on your cheeks.

Spencer was sure this was the best feeling in the world. nothing would ever amount tp this moment. in fact, he had never been happier. he must be dreaming. he wasn't lying. everything he wants in life points back to you. you are truly his ambition.

you pulled away from each other, breathless and blushing like a couple of teenagers. a soft silence filled the air between you. such a perfect moment. Spencer reached up and tapped 3 knocks lightly on your forehead.

"what does three mean?" you chuckled, going over the knock system in your head.

"i love you." he answered cautiously. wasting no time you tapped 4 knocks to his forehead. "what does four mean?"

you stifled a smile before speaking.

"i love you too."

-

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ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

[book-of-curse]

A Guide to Lucid Dreaming, Astral Projection, and Hedgecrossing [Final]

Lucid Dreaming

Lucid dreaming takes place during REM sleep. In a normal person who isn’t sleep deprived, REM sleep sets in after about 90 minutes. This makes entering a lucid dream through the traditional way of meditating through the previous sleep states difficult, although it is possible. Some people attempt to enter REM sleep directly by waking themselves up and then going back to bed again; because their mind is interrupted mid-sleep cycle, they may enter REM again quickly.

The best way to attain lucidity during REM sleep, in my opinion, is to engage in reality checks. Reality checks train us to check during dreams automatically to see if we are sleeping or not. We pick some detail about dreams that sets them apart from reality, and during the day we check several times to see whether or not we are sleeping. Eventually, this habit carries over into dreams and we naturally question whether or not we are dreaming - which prompts us to enter a lucid dream if we ask this question while we are dreaming.

Here are some examples of reality checks: dreams constantly change and shift, so if you look at something, look away, and then look back - if you are dreaming, it should have changed. If you aren’t dreaming, it will stay constant. In dreams, you can manipulate things with your mind; try changing some element of the scenery as you would in a dream, or try to fly. Trying to do these mental exercises from a waking state feels silly and doesn’t work, but in a dream it can trigger you to realize you are dreaming if you check to see if you can do these things and you can. Regularly check to see if you are dreaming during the day, and check for these properties found only in dreams. Eventually, you will ask the question during a dream and will become lucid.

Intentions are helpful for the attainment of lucid dreaming. Before bed, enter into your mind’s eye and find yourself on a red beach with a large red 3. A door with a glowing red C awaits you. Enter it, holding your intention to lucid dream that night as you allow yourself to fall asleep. When you attain lucidity, think back on the red C and the red 3. This will associate these concepts with sleep. You can think on these red concepts in order to help with dream recall. These is called an anchor. Anchors can be used to help keep you present during the dream and remind you that you are lucid. Regularly think back on the red room with the C; create a glowing C or 3 in your hand. The action of doing this grounds you in your dream and prevents you from losing your lucidity or from waking up.

Additionally, you can check your dream journal for patterns you are encountering during your natural dreams. These should be your REM sleep dreams as these are the easiest to recall if you weren’t lucid during them. Recognizing common types of dreams and dream locations can help you recognize that you are dreaming. 

Uses

Lucid dreaming is fun. REM sleep dreams are vivid and highly creative. Lucid dream states can be used to flesh out story ideas or to obtain inspiration. The emotional vividness and the surreal ideas encountered in this state of mind are ideal for creative inspiration, like to get inspiration for an otherworldly landscape to draw or for a fictional place or character for a story.

If you are going to use a lucid dream state for some purpose, set your intention ahead of time. It can be fun to explore dreams without an intention, but for goal directed purposes it is important to set your intention or else you will forget while you are maintaining your hold on your lucidity. Do you want to work on a story idea? Okay. Do you want to focus on the plot, the setting, the theme, or the characters?

You can focus on one element of your story that you want to flesh out, or several. You can focus on them one at a time, or all at once. It is difficult to hold many ideas in mind at once. Reminding yourself of your story world, or the characters, or a scene will cause it to manifest in your dream. Because dreams constantly shift and evolve, it will immediately come to life and go in a direction you barely control. This can be used for creative inspiration. That is how one uses dreams - anything that manifests in the dreams suddenly comes to life and takes on a mind of its own during a dream state. Interacting with it intensifies this effect, leading to interesting ideas and feelings.

[ If you liked this, check out my book, The Path: Psychomancy. It goes over this particular topic in addition to other occult and alternative psychological topics. https://www.amazon.com/Path-Psychomancy-Astora-Diam-ebook/dp/B08F2YD1GM ]

[sleepyseguin]

tyler seguin | in the morning

summary: morning sex. that’s literally it. (slight mention of ch*king)

please feel free to message or request here! stay safe xo rose

It’s raining when you wake up. The windows have been left open, so the fresh, clean smells seeps in, the sound of it on the roof. The curtains blow in the breeze, brushing gently against the wood of the floorboards. You roll over, the rustle of bed sheets. Tyler’s hand slips off from where it was resting on your back with your movement, but you collect it quickly, slide it back over your hip. He smells like sleep where he absentmindedly moves closer, already awake. He’s on his phone, one arm propped up on a pillow to scroll through emails. You can tell by the quick, alert movements of his eyes as he reads he’s been awake for awhile, but has stayed relatively still to let you sleep longer. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re always startled awake by him leaving the bed. An unconsciousness knowing of him leaving your immediate space that disturbs your REM.

 “Hey,” you say, voice still thick with sleep. Your mouth tastes slightly stale. He smiles at the sound of your voice, dropping his phone to look at you.

 “Hey,” Tyler returns, hand slipping up from your hip to your ribcage, under his big t-shirt you’ve worn to bed.

 “What time is it?” You wonder, phone lost somewhere under the pillows from where you’ve dropped it while falling asleep the night before.

 “Just after nine,” he tells you. A Sunday. Off season. He’ll train this afternoon, but for now, the morning is peaceful and stretches before you. Tyler’s fingers continue to brush a slow rhythm of your ribcage, bump, bump, over bone.

 You hum happily. Plenty of time to laze around in bed. Maybe you’ll cook eggs for the two of you later. Make coffee with too much caramel in it. For now though, the rain patters outside, and Tyler’s legs are tangled with yours under the sheets.

 “Did you dream?” He asks, slipping down from where he’s propped himself up on pillows to be more at your level.

 “Don’t remember,” you reply, it was a deep, heavy sleep. The storm must have soothed you. The stupid amount of money spent on the mattress topper was meant to find some relief for Tyler’s back, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the new level of relaxations it’s brought your sleeping habits.

 “Did you?”

 “Yeah,” Tyler says, the corner of his mouth crooking up in a smile. His hand has started to linger further up your chest, the swell of your breast.

 “What did you dream?”

 “Nothing that made sense,” he muses, “Was home but with people I didn’t know, but did know, you know?”

 “Yeah, weird feeling.”

Your hips push into the hard muscle of his thigh a little bit. He smiles, and pushes back.

 “You wanna unpack that?” You ask. You read a book once, about what dreams mean, but can’t for the life of you conjure up any form of memory of what it contained. Tyler laughs.

 “I think it was just a dream.” A thumb brushes your nipple.

 “Hmm, maybe.”

Your eyelids are heavy again, content. Being slightly felt up by a smiling boy, the pressure of his leg between yours.  The rustle of the curtains. The heavy duvet. It’s natural when Tyler turns his head, leans in. The softness of his mouth, the rough of his beard on your cheeks. He kisses slow, and lazily, enjoying the moment. It’s peaceful, the way he undresses you, kissing up the line of your abdomen as he pulls his own t-shirt over your shoulders. A recognising of your body, still favouring it even after being there so many times before.

 “You smell so good in the mornings,” he mumbles into your neck, a knee between your thighs as he presses you down into the mattress, half swallowed up by downy pillows. Your fingers tangle into his hair, curls around knuckles. He smells like boy, his own skin. Something pure, instinctually drawn to it.

 Tracing your hands down his back, feeling the movement of his shoulders as he wriggles you out of underwear, tossed behind him with a wolfish grin. His own underwear have already been lost. Perhaps he never even had any on.

 Soft sounds as you hook up like teenagers. Rumpled hair. Hands that can’t find a place to settle, on jaws, shoulders, backs, bums. Your fingers slip between you, finding him hot, and hard. Velvet skin. He moans quietly into your shoulder, the relief. You move your wrist slowly, easing into it. The anticipation is heavy between your legs, throbbing. Bodies still warm and soft from sleep.

 Quiet sounds as his own hand finds you, circling, pressing. Slowly at first. The suck of his fingers into his mouth, pink lips, pinker tongue. The dirty way he smiles as they sink back into you. Crooked just right. A rhythm well practiced.

 It almost feels wrong to curse in this quiet morning, but you can’t help yourself. Eyes fluttering closed. Hand around the strong muscle of his forearm so you can feel the tendons move as he works to make you feel good. Tyler shifts, and the warmth of him against your chest is lost. You open your eyes to protest, but find him looking up at you from down the bed, one of your legs already slung over a broad shoulder. His mouth is slick, and he’s grinning, not breaking eye contact as he licks into you.

 “Ty,” you whisper, unused voice still rough. Hands in his hair, pulling, guiding. His tattoos against the bare skin of your thighs. His free hand pressing your hip down into the bed, thick fingers splayed over your tummy. The sound of his mouth. The sound of the rain. Rustle of sheets. Your own sighs, murmurs of his name, of encouragement.

 You come with his mouth on you, a leg thrown along his back. The heat of the room almost too much, relieved by the cold breeze. Tyler doesn’t let you breathe, fingers still moving inside you as you roll into him, chasing the feeling.

 “You taste so good,” he tells you, jaw moving against your thigh. Your fingers grasp at his shoulders, blushing.

 “Come here,” you ask, pretending to pull him up even though you’re both well aware you’d have no luck moving the bulk of him. He crawls up you gracefully, hard against your tummy. You angle yourself for him, wet from his mouth so that he sinks in easily. Tyler groans as he settles, curly hair in his eyes, half on his knees as he pushes deep, your legs wrapped around his waist.

 He uses one hand to brace himself on the headboard, the other cupping your head up from the pillows, half tangled in your hair as it falls out of it’s bun. The first pull out and push back in, achingly slow and carefully timed to make it as lovely as possible for both of you. It’s frustrating, how good he is at this.

 You get to watch the way his body moves in the morning light, the heaving breath in his chest, the muscles in his arms as he finds a rhythm, strong and powerful. Like a Greek God, carved from marble. His free hand slips to your breast, rough, pinching your nipple, good, so good, sogood. Tyler bows his head over you, blown pupils, watching the way he slides into you, over and over again.

 “I’m gonna come again,” you gasp, reaching up for him, feeling him drop lower, releasing the headboard to scoop you up against him, skin to skin, hot and panting.

 His hand, rubbing where he moves into you. Fingers around your throat, angling your face so he can kiss you as you come, moans swallowed up by him. He grinds out a curse, pushing harder, deeper.

 “Gonna come,” he rasps, and your hands pull at his back, his hair, sensations for him to shiver through as he drops his head into your neck, the final few desperate rocks of his body. Your name groaned against your neck, warm inside you.

 It’s still raining, harder even. It takes a second for your breath to settle, the weight of his body to become unpleasant. He seems to realise the exact moment it does, rolling to the side, pulling one of your legs with him to sling over his waist. You’ll need to clean up soon, start the day, maybe even close the windows before the house gets too cold. For now though, the rain pours.

[alysianmoon]

Examination

Spencer Reid X Reader

Your breathing is normal, slow and steady. Bright lights manage to surpass the thin skin covering your closed eyes. You squint, pupils dilating and retracting after opening you eyes. It’s blurry at first, then clear.

White and grey speckled ceiling, LED white lights, and the black dots that keep interrupting your sight when you look to close to the lights.

You turn your head to your right; a blood bag and two chairs, one in which a brown haired someone is asleep in, curled up. You turn your head to your left; monitors that show your heart rate, blood oxygen level, and BMI.

The incessant beeping becoming prominent the moment you realized the machines were there. You lift your arm up into your vision, middle finger flaunting a white Pulse Oximetry. It stands out against your bloody fingernails. Guess trying to scratch the rope that tied you together wasnt too good of an idea.

You turn back to Spencer. Even with the noises coming from the machines, his breath is still prominent. It’s light and soft. In then out. His eyes twitching every so often, disclosing that he’s currently in REM sleep, dreaming. Then his breath gets faster, raspier, his chest rising and falling deeper than before. He’s not dreaming, he’s having a nightmare.

“Spencer?” You lift your head, brows furrowed, eyes scanning his every move.

“Spencer?” You say louder this time, pushing yourself up with my elbow. A sharp pain shoots through your abdomen, you hiss and wince, taking a deep breath. Spencer groans, not in response to you, but to the images in his head.

“Spencer, wake up.” You attempt to reach over with your free arm, being stopped by the cord connected to your finger. You sit up, carefully this time, making sure to breath properly. You take the Pulse Oximetry off your finger, reaching back over and gently shaking his leg.

“Spencer? Wake up.” His eyes snap open, blinking rapidly. Immediately sitting up in his chair and glancing around the room.

“Hey, you’re all right it’s just a dream.” You whisper softly, grasping his knee to help him feel grounded. He lets go a few breaths. Letting his head tilt back and rest on the wall.

“You got kidnapped and practically tortured, yet you’re the one comforting me? I feel like this should be the other way around.”

You chuckle at his words, regretting it as soon as you did, a pain even worse than before going through the same area.

“If you keep twisting your torso like that you’re gonna reopen the laceration.” Spencers on his feet now, fingers lightly tightening on your shoulders and nudging you back down onto the bed. He’s carefully not to move your body in any way that will affect the wound.

“Spencer, I’m fine.”

“I just watched you grimace in pain from laughing. You’re not fine.”

You watch him closely as he looks over the blue and purple blotches riddled across your skin. His brown iris’ quickly switch from spot to spot, his eyebrows are slightly furrowed and his lips are tightly pressed together. The skin under his eyes are dark and slightly sunken in. You can’t imagine how long he’s been in this room for. You don’t even know how long you’ve been in this room for. Apparently, long enough for the doctors to do surgery.

Your train of thought falters as Spencer’s fingertips graze over your skin, lifting and turning your limbs slightly to study more of the area. You let go of your breath once your lungs start to burn.

He watches you, brows somehow being more furrowed than before, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I’m sorry-“

“I’m okay, Spencer. I just forgot to breathe. You’re good.” He gives you a tight line smile and continues his examination. He may not be a medical doctor but he knows what he’s doing.

His pupils dilate, trained on your face. Palm hovering under your jaw before tilting your head up. His thumb traces over a cut under the corner of your mouth.

“They didn’t clean this, it could get infected.”

“And what are the odds of that?” You ask quietly, not wanting to interrupt his focus.

“Statistically, a surgical wound has around a 1.9% chance of getting infected. While a more common cut has a 5% chance of getting infected. Especially around the mouth and hands cause they tend to touch the most germs. Hands as you use them constantly and around the mouth area because of all food that comes in contact with it.” He spoke fast, but clearly, eyes still running over your face.

“I missed your smart talk, you know?”

“That’s odd.”

You turn your head to look at him, tilting it, an eyebrow raised, “How so?”

“Well, usually when I go on a rant Morgan or whoever I’m talking to walks away or changes the subject”

“Have I ever done that though?”

His head lifts up, eyes darting, searching for an answer. “No, I don’t think you have, actually.”

“And that’s why I’m your favorite.” Yousmile at him with pride. Spencer smiles back, sitting down in his original chair, ankle resting on his knee.

[sketchguk]

lover to lean on; pjm

➳ pairing: neighbor!jimin x florist!reader

➳ genre: neighbor AU, flower shop AU, smut, fluff, angst

➳ wc: 20k

➳ synopsis: for months, you can hear your no face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. you’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course you’re bitterly single. but one day, the apartment is radio silent. and one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. so on valentine’s day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other. 

➳ warnings: explicit language, pining, unrequited love 🤔, accidental voyeurism, unhealthy eating/sleeping habits, praise kink, body worship, nipple play, fingering, oral (f receiving), handjobs, penetration, fluffy sex

➳ a/n: oops, I uploaded this later than I expected because the word count really got me. anyways, this fic is inspired by the song call me by keshi x rainlord. go give it a listen! 

Wake up and smell the roses.

That would be a great philosophy for life if you didn’t have to wake up to the sound of sex at 2 in the goddamn morning. 

Perhaps it’s your fault for not checking on the thickness of the drywall prior to moving in, but it wasn’t exactly the first concern that came to mind when touring the flat. Now, it’s more of a personal problem than anything: you being bitter about not having sex while your neighbor and his girlfriend are going at it like rabbits 5 feet away from you. It’s not a very valid complaint to bring up to your landlord. He’d probably tell you to suck it up and get laid. 

And he’s right. 

Besides, it’s not so bad most days. You hardly even notice the sound of running water through the rusty pipelines every morning or the whizzing of the ancient radiator on cold nights. In fact, you welcome it. It’s become part of the rustic building’s old-school, pre-historic charm. 

That, you can get behind. 

But one thing is for sure. You’re never going to learn to appreciate the strangled garble of a morning blowjob in the steamy showers or the banging of the bedpost against the paper thin walls when you’re in desperate need of some beauty sleep, well deep in a state of REM. 

It’s anything but charming. 

The 3 inch thick divider between you and your not-so-considerate neighbor does absolutely nothing to drown out the soft moans and hard grunts. You can hear them loud and clear through the dead of night as if they’re right beside you. 

“My god,” you sigh, rolling around your bed restlessly. Your hand blindly palms at the sheets in search of the pillow that rests beside you, placing it over your face and sandwiching yourself between the cushions. If you can’t kill your neighbor, you might as well suffocate yourself first to avoid incrimination, shamefully persecuted for third degree murder. 

A frustrated groan falls from your lips, but it’s stifled against the buffer. The banging stops almost immediately. 

“Shit,” you hear from the other side. 

Did he come? Is it over? 

You pray, hold your breath, and lie still as if you’re the one caught red-handed. But you’re not a voyeur. At least not on purpose. 

It isn’t your fault for being a light sleeper because the only thing to blame is the flimsy partition your landlord dare considers a wall. If you could have it any other way, you would. This is far from ideal granted that you didn’t even ask for any of this, but it’s far too late to get a refund. 

Lately, you’ve been spending your nights muting out vulgar dirty talk, the occasional squelches, and the obscene skin slapping on skin. Over time, you’ve come to know your neighbor on a much more intimate level than you would have liked despite never seeing him around. Like the fact that he thrives off of edge play and praise kinks. Yeah, it’s probably for the best that his identity is kept a secret otherwise you wouldn’t ever be able to look him in the eyes again with the knowledge that you have stowed away in the crevasses of your brainー knowledge you would prefer to forget. You don’t even know his name, but you’re long past the point of being acquainted with one another, so it would pretty be awkward to ask for it now. All you know is that he’s stuck in his own bubble, too blinded by love and lust to even consider his poor neighbor. 

Most nights, you even make the effort to stumble through your cluttered, moonlit studio apartment in search of your cheap headphones that usually dangle precariously over the edge of your desk. You’ve made a mental note to invest in some earplugs and a more effective set of headphones too. 

Truly, you’re not the type to invade one’s privacy. You have nothing to be sorry about because you respect your neighbor, his girlfriend, and their sexy time. If anything, they should be the ones apologizing for keeping you awake for three consecutive nights. No less on a Tuesday. 

But perhaps the act is already done and you can let bygones be bygones. Maybe he’s already come, and as unfortunate as that may be for his girlfriend, the chances are he's low on stamina tonight. The vivace metronomic thuds against your shared wall would suggest he was going pretty hard at it too. Not that it’s any of your business. You’re happy that your neighbor is so in love, and that he can have sex all day, all night and fall into the comfort of his lover’s arms, unlike you. You’re not bitter. 

Not at all. 

You don’t mean to get invested in his relationship, but it’s just that tonight, he finished rather early as opposed to the hour it usually takes him to climaxー foreplay and edge play and all. You don’t keep track of the time per se. That’d be a little creepy, but it’s hard not to do so when you’re losing out on a precious hour of sleep each night. Especially when you’re stuck in your own overactive imagination, wondering how good his stroke game is and what type of lingerie he’s intoー

“Sorry!”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Then the realization hits you momentarily. 

He’s talking to you. 

They must have heard you groaning through the stupid, thin walls, and therefore, you’re responsible for this very awkward exchange. 

Your grip on the pillow loosens as you lift it over your head. 

“It’s okay!” Your voice cracks with a heightened tone, “Just make sure you use protection!” The cringe settles into the pit of your stomach as soon as you respond. You squeeze your eyes shut and mentally facepalm yourself. You should have left it alone, but your cursed mouth moves way faster than your thoughts. 

The couple whispers to one another, but it’s hushed and hurried. Faint and hard to decipher. Angry, even. The wall must be really selective on what it chooses to mute out which is absolutely perfect when you actually want to know what’s happening on the other side. 

However, moments after, you can still hear the rustle of sheets and the patter of footstepsー two pairs. Even the harsh close of the door and the soft turning of the deadbolt, a resounding click that could be heard if you were to listen close enough. 

Once again, there’s a shuffle of feet that skid across the hardwoodー one pair. A few creaks echo from the aged floorboards. And then there’s a squeak from the bed slat, a heavy mass pressing on the mattress. 

You sit in silence with eyes wide open as you trap air into your lungs in fear of breathing out. Correction, in fear of your neighbor making comments on your rude interruption. If you could pretend that you’re asleep, maybe the problem will disappear into the night. 

But it doesn’t because it never works that way. 

Moonlight filters through the pane glass windows, right between the cracks of your curtain. It illuminates your face and keeps you awake longer than you need to be. You manage to let out the breath you’ve been holding when something else breaks the silence. 

You can hear it faintly. The soft hum of an unfamiliar tune before the soft outbreak of vocals. The song is bitter, but the voice is sweet.

Your neighbor has gotten into the habit of singing whether it be at dawn or dusk, yet you can never complain given his velvety voice. Sometimes it’s accompanied by the strum of an acoustic guitar or the tap of an electronic keyboard. But one thing that never changes is his love for the same old bubble gum pop music that’s rinsed and repeated on the radio. Nothing but love on the brain. Mushy lyrics that bear no meaning to you, and frankly, to anyone who’s painfully single and/or heartbroken. 

You would have expected nothing less from this man though. His taste in music is a given. Most days, you can physically feel his warmth and kindness based on the dulcet timbre of his voice. Although you’ll never care to admit it to him, it helps you fall asleep on nights when you’re drained from work. They’re comforting songs that warm your heart, especially because he’s singing such sincere lyrics about his girlfriend. 

His love for her is pure, and it’s disgustingly cute. 

No matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you’re happy for the lovely couple while internally cringing during their late night endeavors, you’re wondering if you’re subconsciously longing for a relationship just like theirs. 

But you’d be crazy not to dream about that kind of love story. One in which the guy cooks a meal for you at the end of every night, served alongside a hot cup of peppermint tea to help you sleep better. In which he runs a bath for you, flower petals, candles, soap suds, and the whole shebang, only to hop right in behind you. Someone to keep you company while giving you a back massage, working on the hard-to-reach knots that line your shoulder blade after a hard work day. Of course at his own volition, never having to be asked to do so. 

Perhaps you’re more invested in your neighbor’s picture perfect relationship than you thought, knowing all these little, intimate details no one else should know. But once again, the thin wall is to blame. You’re not an eavesdropper. You’re just a hopelessly hopeless romantic who needs to wake up and smell the damn roses. 

Because apparently, not every relationship is as perfect as it seems. 

“Everything okay?” You don’t know why you open your mouth, but you do, and you can’t take it back. He’s long since stopped singing, but the residual silence is louder than the gentle voice that once filled the space. 

He sighs deeply. The frustration is unmistakable, and you regret ever saying anything. 

“Yeah… Just trouble in paradise.” He chuckles dryly, but there’s a tinge of sadness to it. 

The room is quiet again. You debate with yourself, wondering if you should hash it out with him or go to fucking bed knowing that you have a 7 am shift tomorrow. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” The kindness of your heart outweighs all else, but you cross your fingers and secretly hope that his answer is no just so you can finally get some shut-eye. 

“Uhm… I wouldn’t want to bother you.” His voice wavers. He sounds tired, but maybe it’s the exhaustion from navigating the rocky waters of a relationship. You’ve been there before. 

Everyone’s been there before. 

Your eyes are closed, and just when you think you can go back to bed, your mind and heart betray you. 

“I wouldn’t be bothered,” you tell him, “I’m already awake too.” 

His chest rumbles with a true chuckle this time. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” 

“Don’t even worry about it. I’m probably gonna invest in some ear plugs tomorrow,” you quip, waving it off. 

“You really don’t have to,” he deadpans. There’s a pregnant pause, and you’re left confused. He continues with a shaky breath, “I’m not sure we’ll be back together after this.” 

Now you’re even more confused. Were they not just ravaging one another moments ago? 

“Valentine's Day is coming up next Friday…” you muse. “You could still win her back, you know?” 

The radiator whirs in the background. It’s silent. 

“Do you love her?” You query, thumbing the pilled edges of your blanket. 

“That’s a loaded question.” 

Now it’s your turn to stay silent. 

“I think I do,” he starts. His voice is rough. “Love her— I mean.” He falters in uncertainty. “Sorry, I’ve never admitted it to myself before.” 

“That’s okay.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but the situation is totally out of your hands. You don’t even know the full picture, yet it somehow feels like you’re on the other side of the breakup even though you’re just sitting in the audience, watching, or rather hearing, the drama unfold. 

Your fingers interlock with one another, resting over your chest as you lie flat on your back. The heavy weight of your heart sinks lower into your stomach. Maybe love isn’t real, or maybe it’s not meant for people like you and him. Or is it just some misconstrued concept jumbled up in your brain? Some romanticized notion you’ve only ever dreamed about or seen in movies and read in fanfiction?

You gulp, pondering over how things could possibly go wrong in their seemingly perfect relationship. Well, there are millions of reasons, but maybe you’ve only ever heard the good times roll. Days when they’re frolicking in a meadow of sunshine and nights when they’re singing and dancing and laughing, head over heels in love, and everything is just peachy perfect. Maybe the bad and the dirty have yet to expose itself to you, still hidden behind an extra layer of stucco drywall and eggshell paint coatings. No matter how many times you bitch about them, the innermost part of you is still rooting for the couple you’ve had the displeasure of listening to have sex every night. But it’s always worth it, or so you think, for the sake of them being in a good place. To be undoubtedly quote unquote in love—

“Have you ever been in love?” It surprises you that he’s the one asking instead of the other way around. 

You stare blankly at the ceiling with a racing heart. Biting your lip, you speculate whether or not you should reveal such intimate details about your life to a total stranger.

“Nope,” you shake your head. He can’t see you, but you hope that your response is convincing enough. 

“Would you want to?” 

You can’t help but scoff. “Yeah, what kind of question is that?” 

“You’re right, it was stupid.” He chuckles. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you warn him, “You don’t have to.” 

“Sorr—”

“If you finish that sentence, I’ll personally come over and flick you on the forehead,” you say, reprimanding him. 

His laughter is even sweeter than his voice. “Harsh. But nice? I guess?”

That’s the perfect description for someone who works in the service industry, which unfortunately, you do. 

“It’s for your own good,” you suggest, nodding your head in self indulgent pleasure. Kind of like how avoiding love is for your own good.

The silence quickly settles in, as does the existential dread. Your eyes shift around to the empty apartment before you, and you soon realize that you’re painfully alone.

The radiator goes off again and the clock ticks perpetually. The moment escapes you. 

His voice fills up the room. “Can I ask how you’re doing?” 

The corner of your lips curl up in a fond smile. You exhale a deep sigh, one of contemplation. “I’m okay… Just... learning how to deal with unrequited love.” 

“Harsh,” he echoes back.

“Yeah.” You curl up on your side, sighing and reaching for a pillow to spoon. 

“Want to talk about it?” 

You gnaw on your lip. It’s a bad habit to have. “There’s not much to talk about. It’s just some guy who always walks in at work. We make small talk, flirt a little bit, and then he leaves until the next day.” A highlight reel flashes before you, and you tug on your blanket, nuzzling into the warm fabric that offers you some semblance of comfort against the outside world as you dig your nose into the soft linen. 

“How do you know he doesn’t like you?” 

You shrug to yourself. “It’s just a feeling.”

You think the conversation is over at this point. Moments go by until your ears perk up at the faint sound of his voice. “You should ask him out.”

Your neighbor surely seems to enjoy making a fool out of you. It’s a nice thought to have though. To think that you have the confidence to ask a guy out. The guy you’re crushing on, no less. 

You satiate your neighbor anyways just to entertain the idea a little longer and give him a little push towards his own love story. “Only if you make amends with your girlfriend though.” 

“Girlfriend? Oh— no, she’s not my girlfriend,” he says in defense. 

You’re perplexed. “Wh-? She’s not?”

“No... uh, just friends with benefits,” he confesses with a cough. 

Flashbacks start to go off in your head as you try to connect the dots like some mathematical formula. Is love actually an illusion? Maybe love knows no labels, but a small part of you still wants to believe that they’re wholeheartedly in love and on the verge of marriage or something. But that delusion instantaneously bursts into dust and ashes, confirmed by none other. 

“Hey, I’m kind of tired, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I’ll make it right with her so long you talk to the guy.” He lets out a huff. “Don’t let him miss out on a good thing because of the what ifs.” 

Comfort washes over you at the sound of his advice. In a way, he’s right. Maybe it’s time that you put yourself out there in spite of the possibilities. Even if it’s utterly terrifying. 

“Goodnight,” you mumble back, wrapping your arms securely around the pillow. 

He hears you loud and clear, “Goodnight. Thanks for the talk.” 

He knocks out soon after that, but it’s hard for you to sleep when you’ve got nothing but love on the brain. 

Waking up is hell, especially when you’re running on nothing but 0 hours of sleep and a single cup of black coffee. The only thing that makes the fatigue worth it is the peaceful lull at sunrise and the absence of your noisy neighbor’s daily blowjob. It’s as if some higher power read your mind and decided that you’re worth the divine intervention just for that one fleeting moment of jubilation. 

But just like the law of gravity, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, and your contract with the universe calls for some cosmic karma. It’s like you’re being punished because you can never seem to catch a break. 

Work is unusually hectic, but with Valentine’s Day around the corner, it’s expected. If Black Friday is the worst nightmare for every retail worker, one can imagine a florist’s week leading up to Single’s Awareness Day, or much less commonly referred to as “A Shallow, Capitalistic Attempt to Buy Affection Day.” 

Despite owning a flower shop, you still stand firmly against Valentine’s Day and all that it represents. Maybe you’re spiteful because you’re pitifully single and surrounded by lovey dovey mush at every single corner. But as of right now, it has more to do with the extra workload that lies at your feet. 

Not only do you have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to open shop and prepare for the deliveries, but you also have to cut and process flowers, organize dozens of overnight orders, and arrange bouquets for the day’s purchases, all before 9am. The to-do list is endless, and not to mention, the number of calls you’ve picked up in the last hour alone has already backed you up on a number of orders. It’s stressful and incredibly time consuming to say the least. 

By 10am, you’re ready to call it quits, but you constantly remind yourself that this job is your only source of income, and therefore, you have to barrel through with a bright and shining customer service smile on your face. 

At this point, you really wish you did smother yourself with your pillow last night. 

But the only thing that keeps your sanity in tact after the morning rush is the chance to make arrangements for the front display. It’s therapeutic to pick and choose foliage, sprucing them into beautiful pieces of art for passersby to enjoy. You’re grateful for the scent of seeded eucalyptus and baby’s breath which is remedial to your burgeoning headache. Even the sight of your favorite carnation is enough to ease the pounding pain against your skull. 

However, making arrangements isn’t all sunshine and flowers despite popular belief. The worst part about it is the heavy lifting. It’s labor intensive to pick up large plants like the full sized leatherleaf fern in the back room, which is now carefully lodged into a concoction of gardening soil, compost, mulch, and active charcoal. But if nobody else is going to do it, you’re going to have to do it alone. 

Lifting the hefty plant isn’t difficult to begin with, but it progressively becomes taxing when you have to carry it to the front of the store. As you emerge from the back door, the bell of the entrance chimes, signifying a customer’s presence.  

You can hear him before you can even see him. 

“Good morning!”

You nearly jolt at the sound of his chipper voice. Of course Jimin had to walk in at the peak moment of you struggling, looking like a disheveled mess with soil accumulated in your hair like a burrowed nest. You just hope and pray that it’s not smeared across your forehead like Simba.

Out of pure embarrassment, you hold the pot higher to hide your burning cheeks behind the plant despite your arms giving out. Would all of your problems disappear if you act like you’re not there? Once again, of course not, because he spots you in an instant, and you’re just not fated to have the good things in life. 

He calls out your name before stopping to place his things down at the table and rushing over to you, “Here, let me help you with that.” 

You have an ironclad grip on that ceramic pot, holding on to it as if it’s life or death. “No, it’s okay, I got it,” you say out of pure, frantic determination. 

“Don’t be silly, let me.” He reaches for the bottom of the earthenware. His hand grazes over yours before you can pull away, shifting the responsibility onto him. 

You offer him a grateful smile that extends your eyes, and he sends one back your way. 

“Where do you want it?” He asks. You can’t even get a word in before he turns on his heels and makes space for you through the narrow aisle. 

Leading the way, you show him the spot you’ve marked for the fern to hopefully reside for the next 24 hours. “Here’s good,” you tell him, pointing to the empty tile. 

Jimin bends down and gently places the plant into its new home. Then he reaches into his messenger bag, pulling out a packet of tissues before gravitating towards the spray bottle.

“I’m a big girl, you know? I could do it myself,” you whine with a slight pout. 

He grips on your right shoulder, and you’re locked in place. “I know, but I want to help,” he says with the utmost care, “And you can ask me for help whenever you need it, you know?” Jimin smiles at you, and his eyes lower into crescent moon shapes, the corners slightly creasing. Before you know it, there’s a cool sensation on your forehead. The tissue in his hand is thoroughly saturated and now damp against your skin. You recoil on contact and reach for Jimin’s wrist, ready to yell at him for the lack of warning. 

“Hey!”

“Stay still, you have soil on you,” he alerts with sharp eyes. 

You let go of his wrist and give in to his kind gesture, murmuring out a “fine”. 

While he concentrates on cleaning you up, you can’t help but look up and lock your eyes on his. You swear you could spontaneously combust and astral project from the intensity of his stare. His close proximity makes you heat up, so you’re forced to avert your eyes elsewhere out of pure intimidation. Your line of sight meets his lips, and you’re stuck in place, staring at them. They’re so pink and plush, and his tongue even pokes out a little like a sleepy kitten with slack jaw. Most of all, they’re right there in front of you, and if you could just lean in a little more, you’d be this closeー

“All clean!” He says with cheer, tapping your shoulder.

He turns around in search of the dustbin, and you shake yourself out of your own daydream before he can catch sight of you. 

You laugh it off and offer him a toothy smile, “If you really want to help, you could have gotten me a cup of coffee.”

“You’re making demands now, huh?” He asks.

“It’s more like a suggestion than anything,” you teasingly yell from the back room, grabbing the remaining flowers for the display. Meanwhile, Jimin lingers behind in the main room, admiring the freshly cut flowers laid out on the counter ready to be made into floral arrangements.

You manage to recompose yourself from that one moment of weakness by taking a glance over at the cute doodles of artwork that line your office wall. They’re little bits of happiness that keep you calm and remind you that there’s light in your life, and he’s standing in the other room waiting for you to pop a very important question. 

Upon grabbing the necessary items, you make your way back into the store. You stop immediately in your tracks, nearly colliding into a solid figure at the sharp turn of the doorway. Your heart almost stops, but you shudder away before you could tip yourself over. 

Jimin stands in front of you with his hand extended out, clenching onto a steaming, white paper cup. 

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of me and coffee now,” he laughs, reaching out once again, “Only one of us bites.” 

“That’s for me?” You ask incredulously. 

He nods his head, “Yeah, of course, silly.” 

You take the drink from his hands, and before you can thank him, he chimes in. “It’s just how you like it. Black and full of caffeine.” 

You press your lips up against the cup, taking a sip and humming in satisfaction at the drops of heaven. “Thanks, but why? And how’d you know my coffee order? Don’t get me wrong, this is really nice, but…” 

“I saw how dead you looked yesterday,” he justifies cutting you off before you can ramble on. Honest, but harsh. 

You put the cup back on the counter and continue with your task at hand, and he trails behind you. 

“Thanks, that’s what every girl wants to hear,” you banter with all the sarcasm you can muster, pulling at the flower stems despite them already being placed exactly where you want them. 

“Girls like it when guys pay attention to the little details, don’t they?” He asks with a gleam in his irises. 

You look up at him briefly before averting his eyes and wiping clean the leaves on a near fiddle leaf tree, spraying food soil at its roots. 

“Love it,” you gulp wryly. 

Jimin takes note of how seemingly busy you are, so he walks around the shop, examining the new inventory of flowers. After making your round through the store, watering all the plants that need to be watered, you return to the disembodied zinnia on the counter, waiting to be arranged. 

The silence is refreshing until it isn’t. 

“Is the coffee good?” He queries. 

“Huh?” You stop what you’re doing to casually glance his way. His back is turned to you, but he seems overly invested in the rose display. 

“The coffee,” he repeats, back still turned.  

You look at the untouched cup at the edge of the table and smile to yourself. You didn’t notice it before, but there’s a red doodle that contrasts against the white paper cup, no doubt customized by Jimin himself. It’s hard to pick out what it is exactly, but you’d recognize the flowers of God any day. The ruffled petals and thin, straight stem are simply unmistakable. 

“Oh, yeah. It’s good,” you answer politely. 

“What’s your favorite kind of flower?” He asks curiously as if he’s playing a game of 21 questions. It’s a question you’ve answered numerous times before, but facts like these can easily slip through someone’s mind. 

“Easy, carnations,” you respond without any hesitation, pointing at the display in the right corner of the store when he turns around to look at you. He makes his way to the stand, eyeing the flowers. 

“They’re pretty,” he comments, pulling out one of the bouquets to examine as if he didn’t already know. 

You hum, and maybe the exhaustion is evident in your voice and your oddly scarce exchange of pleasantries. 

Jimin carries on with the small talk anyways. “You’ve been sleeping okay?” 

You snip away at the hard, green stems, tossing them into the trash beside you. Shrugging, you mindlessly answer. “Yeah, as much as a florist can during Valentine’s week.” You snicker with good spirit. 

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t rest well,” he scolds you all in good faith, eyes now scanning the small assortment of cards. You hum in affirmation. 

If anything, he should be telling that to your noisy neighbor who refuses to let you get a wink of sleep. 

A creak rings through the air as Jimin rotates the card stand, thumbing through the variety. “Do you have plans for Valentine’s Day by the way?” 

You can feel your hands clam up as they stop fiddling with the lemon leaves. Your heartbeat picks up, and you’re left winded by the question. You hide behind the hesitation, nervous as to where this may lead. How could you possibly play it cool when your crush asks you whether or not you’re busy on arguably the most romantic holiday of the year? 

Play it cool because remember, you loathe Valentine’s Day. 

Your hands fumble as you pick up the lemon leaves again, snipping at the branches nonchalantly. “Uh, no, not really, you?” you gulp. Your eyes are distracted, too fixed on the greenery. 

But you look up the moment Jimin approaches the counter with flowers in one hand and a card in another. 

“Oh, who are these for?” you feign innocence in your voice as you reach for the brown kraft paper and the roll of red ribbon. 

Jimin scratches the back of his neck, hesitating. “My girlfriend,” he mumbles, but it’s loud and clear, audible enough for you to apprehend like an echo in you ear.

“I don’t have much planned yet, but we’re probably going to grab dinner on Friday,” he shrugs with hands burrowed in his pockets. He shifts his weight on the balls of his feet, eyes focused on the gray specks of the ceramic tiles beneath him. “Something casual. I’m not really huge on the whole Valentine’s Day thing.” 

It seems like every man in your life paints you like a giant fool destined for humiliation. Of course the hopelessly hopeless romantic within you deluded yourself into believing that some Prince Charming would visit your flower shop in anticipation of seeing you. Of course the flowers that he buys everyday has to go somewhere, you just never expected that each and every morning at the crack of dawn, the flowers you carefully hand-pick and wrap with unconditional love would be sent off to his girlfriend. 

Of course you’re a huge idiot who isn’t destined for love. 

It almost hurts to plaster the tight lipped smile on your face when your heart is prickled with thorns like the roses in your hands. 

You lick your lips and painfully gulp the spit down your dry throat before you open your mouth again.

“Jimin?” 

“Yeah?” 

You pause. “You can’t give these to your girlfriend” 

His eyebrows furrow and his hands run through his hair. “What do you mean?”

“They’re white roses.” 

“So? She likes white flowers.” He doesn’t seem to get the point. 

You almost chuckle in his face, and you would have if your heart didn’t hurt so damn much. So you refrain. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that white flowers are meant for funerals?” 

His cheeks are dusted with a pink blush. He shakes his head no. “Uh, what do you suggest I give her then?” 

You sigh, looking at the hopeless man in front of you. “Do you love her?” Not even a second goes by before you ramble, not very eager to hear the answer. “You could uh- give her that fern you helped me carry earlier.” You walk back to the front display, keeping a safe distance to hide your woe, extending your arms out like a game show host revealing what’s hidden behind door #1. (Hint: it’s your heart). 

“Call it your love fern?” you shrug, laughing it off. 

“I think a bouquet is fine.” Jimin staggers behind you, checking out the other flower displays, opting for door #2. “How about the carnations you mentioned?” He pulls out a bouquet of variegated carnations painted with pink and red tips. “These are nice, don’t you think?” He looks at you curiously with doe eyes in await of your approval. 

Your mouth opens to interject, ready to digress into another lesson on the history of variegated carnations, but you bite your tongue back. 

Jimin spots your reluctance, but quickly puts it to rest. “Look, I don’t think she really cares about the meaning behind the flowers. You said these are your favorite, and you’re the expert right?”

You nod, unable to trust your voice. “Mhmm.” Even your hum cracks. “But uh, maybe the deep red ones would be more appropriate?” You cock your head to the side and quirk your eyebrow. 

“It’s fine, I swear” he reassures you, placing the bouquet on the counter before putting the white roses back in its stand. 

Your feet refuse to move as if they’re cemented to the ground, but Jimin stands there in front of you with rosy eyes, awaiting for you to wrap up the object of his affection in a pretty red bow. So how could you refuse?

You walk past the carnation display on the way to the counter, and pick up another bouquet. Pink and red variegated. “Here, these are a little more fresh. The buds are tighter, so in a few days, you’ll see them nice and big.” You smile, closed lipped. “Just in time for Valentine’s Day.” 

Jimin’s jaw loosens and his lips part. He knits his brow in a frown. “Uh, these aren’t actually meant for Valentine’s Day,” he says, running his hand through his perfectly imperfect raven hair. “She’s kind of mad at me right now,” he gives a mirthless chuckle while playing with his hands, “so I’m hoping I can make it up to her with this.” 

Ah, your favorite flowers are reduced to nothing but a gift of pity.

“She’d be crazy not to accept your apology,” you say in a soft voice, gritting your teeth behind your tense jaw, eyes fixated on the little nursling in your hold. With a soft hand, you unravel the kraft paper and delicately wrap it around the bouquet. The very one you picked up this morning and arranged the hour prior, wondering if you’ll be able to send it off to a loving home. 

Now you know for a fact that it’ll be in good hands. 

“Do you think she’d like it?” Jimin chirps in. 

It feels like your heart is on the threshold of bleeding out as he sends another prickle to the soft organ. Your concentration doesn’t even falter as you snip the ribbon. 

“I know she will.”

You tie the fabric into the prettiest bow you can muster and slide the gift of love across the glass counter. Jimin looks down at the beautifully wrapped flowers with an ear to ear smile on his face. “Thank you so much for the help, I really appreciate it.” 

“Just doing my job,” you remind him with a counterfeit smile, scanning the barcode at the back of the card. It’s a really cute card too. Sometimes I wonder how you put up with me then I remember I put up with you. So we’re even ❤️ 

You hate yourself for the fond smile you almost crack, masked behind the pained one you send his way. 

Jimin passes you a $20 bill and grabs his merchandise from the table. 

“She’s really lucky to have you,” you lament honestly with glistening eyes as he walks out the front door. 

He doesn’t catch a word you say, but he manages to shout back a “thank you!” and a “see you tomorrow!” before speeding out, setting off the bell at the top of the door without ever looking back at your dejected figured. 

You’re left alone to finish the rest of the work day, surrounded by none other than the sickly, sweet scent of seeded eucalyptus and baby’s breath, all while taking in the putrid sight of variegated carnations. 

They say that you are your worst enemy, and they are 110% correct on the matter. You don’t know why you would think that you’d have a good day on the basis of your neighbor having a crummy one. It’s not like there’s some kind of transfer of energy. It’s been proven to you time and time again that divine intervention and karmic justice just aren’t real, and apparently, neither is science. Otherwise, by that logic, you’d have a superb day. 

You would have slept through last night and woken up to a pretty pink sunrise painted across the sky— nothing but peace. To the chirping of birds in the distance and to the passing of cars on an empty street. You would have had enough time to prepare a proper breakfast— pancakes, eggs, bacon, and maybe even a nice cup of hot chocolate. Not a measly cup of black coffee to keep you awake for the rest of the busy day. You would have had a nice chat with Jimin at the flower shop about the capitalistic corruption of Valentine’s Day while he’d try to convince you otherwise. He’d prove you wrong, and you would have walked home with a blooming garden in your heart. 

But science is bullshit and the transfer of energy is a complete lie— photosynthesis being the only exception. The only thing you got out of today was a huge migraine and a withering blossom in your chest. 

So just when you think that the day could not get any worse, it absolutely does. 

You can probably blame the poor mindset you boxed yourself in— having a cynical outlook on love and life because of the dreaded upcoming holiday. Maybe it was because your crush just stomped all over your garden and plucked the flowers to give to some other girl. Or, you can put the blame on past you, the big freaking idiot who previously stripped off her bed sheets at 6:30 in the morning in hopes of being productive by doing weeks of piled up laundry. At this point, all you want to do is curl up in a warm bed, too exhausted by the trials and tribulations of life, but you can’t even give yourself the satisfaction of that because you thought you were some kind of changed woman who could manage her stupid laundry.

Newsflash, you’re not. 

The naked mattress in the corner of your apartment mocks you, so grudgingly, you take your laundry basket down to the laundry room for your most hated chore. With heavy steps, you trudge through the cold, cement basement. It’s dark and dingy down there. A little scary too, given the flickering lightbulb at the end of the hallway. Nevertheless, you march through the doors and into the rumbling alcove. 

What you find in there is startling, yet you can’t say that you’re surprised seeing that this occurrence is far from rare. You almost consider walking back upstairs and knocking on your floormate’s door, asking him if he’d be willing to do your laundry in exchange for $5 just so you don’t have to sit there, listening to some couple make out in the back corner.

Apparently, everyone in the world is foolishly in love except for you. 

You crank up the volume a little louder so your cheap headphones can drown out the sound of them locking lips with one another, but the poor quality does absolutely nothing for your abused ears. The boisterous public display of affection is deafening over the sound of your “Wallowing in Self Pity” playlist. 

You’re only capable of catching a brief glance in their direction before gagging and veering off. She’s sitting atop of the washing machine as he stands between her parted legs. They’re so lost in their own world that they don’t even notice your presence. 

Out of respect for yourself and the horny couple, you choose to occupy a washing machine at the opposite corner of the laundry room. But perhaps you can save yourself the irritation as well as the $5 in your wallet because you can hear their hushed whispers. They’ve separated themselves long enough for the guy to convince her to move to a more private location. Although she still leeches herself onto his neck, he’s attentive enough to know that they aren’t alone. He picks her up and drags her out of the laundry room with her legs wrapped around his waist, unwilling to part from him as if holding his hand simply isn’t enough. 

You roll your eyes, thankful for the quietude and the money you’ve saved yourself, but as you sit alone in the drafty basement, doing the chore you hate the most, you can’t help but think how much better it would be to do it with someone else at your side. 

Somehow you’re convinced that crossing paths with Jeongguk in the hallway is fated after thinking about him moments prior. Because it’s very uncommon for that boy to leave his apartment, cooping up all day long with his video games, only to catch a breath of fresh air for his nightly gym sessions. When you see him locking up his apartment door, you offer him $5 anyways just out of the kindness of your heart. He could probably use the money more than you anyways. 

Although you didn’t have any intention of doing a good deed today, karma still finds a way to punish you. As always, it’s bullshit. 

Upon entering your empty apartment, the space is already filled with the sonorous sounds of orchestral music. Violins, violas, cellos, flutes, oboes, and harps all performing in perfect harmony. It’s played through the walls, coming from none other than the speakers of your beloved neighbor. You wouldn’t mind the soothing classical melodies to cure your migraine so long it’s accompanied by white noise. But your neighbor’s laughter rings above the music as you can hear him count “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3” in a triple metre. 

You know that he’s not alone because there’s also another voice laughing alongside him. The same one you’ve grown accustomed to over the months. Her high pitched squeals are unmistakable as they greatly resemble other sounds you’ve heard come from her mouth on many unfortunate nights. So you can safely assume that your neighbor and his not-girlfriend made up with one another already—

“Look at me, not at your feet!” 

“I don’t know where to put them!” 

“You’re stepping on my toes!”

“Sorry!” 

“Oh yeah, you’ll be sorry!” 

It’s hard to picture what’s happening behind the wall when you don’t have faces to match with the voices. But you don’t really need it when their bed slat creaks beneath their weight and their headboard slams against your shared wall. Not when her yelps erupt as a result of the tickle fest they’re currently immersed in. The sounds are vivid enough for you to know much more than you need to know. It almost feels like you’re intruding on an intimate moment that’s not meant for your eyes, let alone your ears. 

Meanwhile, as you struggle to tuck the fitted sheets beneath the four corners of your mattress, you wonder whether it’s worth it to leave the apartment again after such a hard day. Of course for the sole purpose of avoiding a home made porn video being filmed in the process. 

Maybe it’s not too late, and you can still catch up to Jeongguk. You could head to the gym and snatch back the $5 you generously handed him because the more you think about it, the more you believe that someone owes you for your miserable time spent in this apartment complex. But you can’t take your anger out on the poor boy from down the hall when he doesn’t deserve it. 

The sanctuary of your bed calls your name like a siren, so instead, you do what you’re forced to always do— plug in your cheap headphones, blare out some music, and move on with your day. 

And it works for the most part. 

You’re able to successfully put on your bed sheets after struggling to play a big game of tug of war with your mattress. Despite the internal push and pull, you also will yourself to do adult things like tidying up the studio, making the space somewhat habitable for humans. By 9pm, you can finally sit down and enjoy a nice, hot meal. However, you’re forced to keep your headphones on because your neighbor’s not-girlfriend decided that she couldn’t go a single day without her not-boyfriend’s dick in her mouth. 

You swear you’re going to ask him tonight why he hasn’t made it official because it’s clear as day that they’re in love with one another. You know that you definitely would be if someone offered you oral every single day. Unfortunately, nobody’s offering. Thus, you’re forced to live vicariously. 

So as midnight approaches, and the moon reaches its apex, you settle into bed with a book in hand, ready to suffer through the night. It’s difficult to concentrate on the text when your music is blasting, but you suppose it’s better to listen to lo-fi hip hop beats as opposed to the scream of “daddy” over and over and over… 

Although you applaud her for her shamelessness, you would still prefer if she could keep to herself.

Thankfully, these moments are only temporary. 

With your eyes squeezed shut, you let out a lethargic yawn. Looking over at your nightstand, you spot your ticking alarm clock. It’s nearing 1 in the morning, and you decide that you’re exhausted. Well, you’ve decided that long ago, but going to bed before midnight is admitting defeat against your own body. Nevertheless, no matter how tired you are, you know in the back of your mind that there’s no way you could have dozed off with your neighbors going on a Netflix binge with speakers fully blaring audio from The Office. It’s as if they don’t know what headphones are. 

But after “one more episode” and a disgustingly long makeout session, you can hear the shuffle of feet across the floor boards and the turning of the lock. 

It’s nearly 2 am, and the radiator hisses. It’s quiet. 

But then that’s when you hear it like clockwork. The delicate hum before the pleasant tune. Tonight, it’s not a song you’re familiar with. Something about the universe moving and happiness that’s meant to be. Mentions of penicillium and a calico cat? There’s lots of talk about letting someone love you, and that’s when it really hits you in the gut. You’re not so sure about the song, but as always, it sounds pretty. It’s not typical to call a guy’s voice beautiful, but it is what it is. It’s serene, and it’s the promise of tomorrow. It’s something you wish that would never stop. 

But of course all good things come to an end. 

There’s a purposeful knock against the wall which startles you. “Hey, I know you’re up. How’d your day go?” Your neighbor asks, breaking the silence and dragging your attention towards his voice once again. 

You tug your headphones off and walk to the other side of the apartment to lay your book down on the desk, gracefully avoiding anything in your wake because your apartment is finally clean.

“You know, sometimes I wish you would catch me on my good days so I wouldn’t have to tell you such sad stories.” A wary smile surfaces your lips. 

“Why, what happened today?” He asks with concern laced in every syllable. “Did you take my advice?” 

You climb back into bed, pulling your covers over your torso. Sometimes you feel bad about how many silent complaints you have about your neighbor when he’s actually a really nice guy. He just lacks the proper etiquette knowing that the walls are paper thin.

“IIIIIII tried to.” You drag out the vowel, hesitant to recall the embarrassing story. 

“Yeah, and how’d it go?” 

“He doesn’t like me back,” you say plainly after a moment’s reflection. 

Your neighbor scoffs. “He’s an idiot then.” 

You try to fight back the smile because as untrue as it is, Jimin is anything but an idiot. But it’s comforting to know that someone has your back, defending you in all your honor. 

This time, you genuinely chuckle. “It’s not that.... He uh, actually has a girlfriend.” It hurts to admit it out loud. “And I’m sure she’s lovely if he likes her that much.” 

“Like I said, he’s an idiot for losing out on the best thing in his life.” 

It’s impossible for you to fight back this bashful smile because it makes your heart flutter. This may be the first time you’ve felt good about yourself this whole day. 

“Thanks, but I don’t know about that though—” 

He interrupts you, “Come on, don’t say that. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.” 

You shake your head in disbelief, “You’ve never even met me, and you don’t even know what I look like.” You roll your eyes, but a chuckle unintentionally falls from your lips. 

“It’s not about what’s on the outside, okay? I already know you’re beautiful because that’s what you are on the inside.” 

“Shut up, that’s so cheesy.” You flip over on your bed and dig your face into the pillow, flustered by his kind words. There’s absolutely no way people this nice exist in this world. “I could be a troll or a vampire or something for all you know.” 

“Vampires are kinda hot. Haven’t you seen Twilight?” He banters. “And I’m sure this guy isn’t even all that great. Like, tell me something you hate about him.” 

Your hands cover your mouth, stifling a laugh. “I’m not gonna hate on him because he doesn’t like me back. It’s just the reality of it. Besides, he’s perfect.” You roll your eyes, annoyed by how flawless Jimin is in your eyes. 

Your neighbor prods at you. “I reaaallly doubt that. There has to be something. Not even a pet peeve? Maybe he’s chronically late to everything? Sings out loud in a quiet place? Has a super annoying laugh?” 

“Yes, yes, and no.” You flip your pillow over to the cold side and settle in to lie in a more comfortable position, slipping your hand beneath the cushion. “I can excuse the lateness,” you lick your chapped lips. “He also sings like an angel, and his laugh is really endearing. He does this thing where he laughs with his whole body, and he falls over every time. I like it because I know he’s at his happiest then,” you remember zealously.

“Damn, I guess I’m just projecting my own flaws now, huh?” You can hear him snort from laughter, rolling his neck and cracking the joints in his body, and then the click of his knuckles, 10 of them, one after another. 

“Ugh,” you scrunch your nose, “Don’t do that. He does it too, and I guess that’s the only thing he does that really gets to me.” 

Your neighbor cracks another joint somewhere on his body just to annoy you, and you cringe. “See, now we’re talking.” 

“I was gonna tell you that you sing well too and that I like your laugh, but maybe I’ll have to reconsider,” you taunt. “But still, you shouldn’t put yourself down for the things that show off your happiness.” 

The bed creaks from the other side. He must have switched positions for that to happen. “Thanks,” he offers. His voice is muffled, face most likely pressed up against his own pillow. “How about you tell me about the things you like about him?” 

“What? Are you trying to wound me?” You ask, slightly hurt. 

He scoffs, “No, I’m trying to prove a point here. So, tell me.” He implores like this is some kind of couple’s therapy session. Apparently, without your other half. 

As moonlight filters through your curtains and the cars whiz by on the empty street below you, you consider all the things you love and appreciate about Jimin. 

“I love how selfless he is. He’s caring and attentive... He’ll know when I’m tired and he’ll offer me coffee. He also scolds me for sleeping late and he lifts my burdens for me, even when I don’t ask him to.” You close your eyes in retrospect of Jimin and all the good things in life that he embodies. “It’s not even the things that he does for me that make me like him.” 

Your neighbor hums, letting you continue. 

“I guess it’s the principle that’s important.” You play with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, pulling on the edges to give yourself some comfort. “There are people in this world who aren’t… the nicest? I guess. And… he’s one of the purest people I know. It’s like he goes the extra mile to make sure I’m happy… and healthy.” You take a deep sigh before your mind wanders to the darker parts of your brain. “But I also know he treats everyone else like that too. Because he’s that nice. So... I guess I should have seen it coming that I wasn’t so special anyways,” you recall with tears welling up in the brim of your eyes and a knot tightening in your throat. 

“Don’t say that, you’re one of a kind,” he assures you sternly, “What’s his name? I’ll go beat him up right now.” 

You give a bitter laugh, wiping away at your eyes with the back of your hands. 

“My point is that there are other guys out there who are just as caring. And they should make you feel special because you are, and it’s what you deserve. So if the next guy who comes along doesn’t treat you that way, I will beat his ass, okay?” He says in the most nonthreatening voice ever.

You chortle, “Okay, yeah, sure.” You’re not totally convinced of that. 

“You’re probably right, I don’t want to fight and embarrass myself after promising you that,” he giggles. 

“I appreciate the sentiment though.” Earnestly, you do. You don’t know many guys who are this nice, Jimin being the exception. “How ‘bout you though? It sounds like you made up with your not-girlfriend? I hope that wasn’t you in the laundry room earlier,” you tease, deflecting the attention away from you with a raised voice. 

He gladly takes the bait. “Oh shit, that was you? I’m so sorry.” He rolls around the bed in a fit of sweet laughter, and the slat creaks. “And yeah, we did,” he breathes out with a shallow huff after regaining composure. He sounds nonchalant about it. 

“You don’t sound very happy?” 

“No, I am,” he deadpans. 

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Can you tell me what it is that you like about her?” You ask. 

He doesn’t answer immediately like you’d expect, but he’s dwelling on the answer. 

“I love how kind hearted she is,” he thinks out loud. “She’s a natural nurturer.” 

You can hear the smile in his voice, and you can’t help but reciprocate because of how pure that is. 

“Like... she’s always so bright, and…” he stops. “I just don’t know how to explain it. You’d have to meet her to know what I mean.” 

“Yeah you should invite me over so I can meet her.” You both chuckle knowing that you should meet one another before meeting his fuck buddy. 

“I think you’d like her actually. She has this beautiful soul… I- I don’t even know. She just sees the best in everyone. I know that she probably has her own struggles, but I don’t think she’ll ever let anyone know about them,” he mulls over, going on a tangent. 

“Why’s that?” You curl up on your side, hugging your pillow like you do during every conversation with him. It’s as if he’s recalling a bedtime story for you. You let out another yawn, and although you’re on the verge of falling asleep, you stay up a little longer just to hear him talk. 

“I’m not so sure why… I guess I love her and hate her for this...” He reflects. 

You hum, acknowledging him while urging him to continue his train of thought. 

“I don’t know... but she’s the type to suffer in silence for the sake of seeing other people around her smile. And… I don’t think she’ll ever admit when she’s hurt or when she needs help. She puts others before herself. Like, she’s so hellbent on putting on a happy face so that others can be happy too.” 

You nod to yourself, understanding what he means with every word. 

“And It’s not like she fakes her happiness or anything,” he continues as if clarification is needed. “She’s just… such a joy to be around. She makes everyone feel welcomed… and comfortable… And when she’s really happy, like genuinely happy, it feels like everything is right in the world.” 

You can tell he has a big, doting smile on his face. One simply cannot talk about a love like this and not smile. 

“I only wish that she’d be vulnerable with me so I can make her world a little brighter too.” 

“That’s really sweet, and also, I lowkey feel attacked right now,” you let out a dry chuckle. 

“Sorry,” he laughs. “But I think that’s why you two would get along well.” 

“Set up a date, and I’ll come over,” you joke with raised brows. 

“Hmm… I’ll have to think about it,” he teases. “Oh, but uhm... if we’re still on the conversation of what I like about her, physically, I love her smile. I swear to God I stopped in my tracks the first time I saw her… and it still happens every time.” 

“That’s cute,” you smile fondly. 

“When she looks at me, I think the whole world stops for a second because I can actually feel myself get vertigo,” he giggles innocently. “And she’s also got this super adorable snort-laugh that never fails to bring out the best in me. God, it’s beyond cute, you don’t even know.” 

“It sounds like you’re in love,” you suggest, curling up tighter into a ball, squeezing at your pillow. “I don’t see why you haven’t made it official yet.” 

The pause is filled by the whirring of the radiator and the ticking of the clock. 

“Yeah… I don’t know either.” 

Waking up, you find out that going to bed with a broken heart is a little easier than going to bed with a hopeful one. Perhaps it’s the emotional exhaustion that puts you to rest, but it doesn’t mean you’re any less fatigued. All your efforts are put into your work, and in a way, tending to flowers has served as a distraction from the wilting ones that reside in your chest. 

When in reality, you should find a way to revive those instead. 

But as Jimin stands before you, you can’t resist the shriveled petals that land in the pit of your stomach like cherry blossoms in the midst of spring. You really don’t know how you manage to bear discourse about Valentine’s Day when he’s unknowingly sitting there with wide eyes, listening to you talk about unreciprocated love that’s so obviously directed towards him. 

“You mean to tell me that you read romance novels and watch rom-coms, but you hate the most romantic holiday of the year?” 

“Exactly,” you nod as if it’s indisputable. 

He gives you a questioning look with a crease on his forehead and lips pressed together in a straight line. “Make it make sense,” he challenges.

You finish chewing on the forkful of salad you popped into your mouth before answering. “Can I rant about it?” 

Jimin gives you the go ahead and you continue, “I don’t think you understand how much of a die-hard hopeless romantic I am.” 

“Actually, I think I do,” he scoffs and raises his shoulders confidently with eyes closed as if it’s a matter of fact. “That doesn’t prove your point though,” he counters. 

You put your hand up, motioning him to stop interrupting, “Let me finish.” 

Jimin shrugs and grins from across the counter, allowing you to proceed. 

“When I love something, I put my heart and soul into it. I believe in passion, chivalry, and true love.” He hums in agreement as you count down each item with your fingers as if it’s an unofficial list of all the things that encompass a hopeless romantic. “And for me, Valentine’s Day is a poor excuse to spend money and show off all the things you’ve received from your significant other.” 

“That’s valid,” Jimin nods, agreeing while munching on his fries. 

“Like, why spoil someone on this particular day? What happens during the other 364 days?” You spew. 

Jimin mouths “365,” correcting you on the technicalities of a leap year. 

You click your tongue, moving on to the point. “Are they not cherished for the rest of the year? I would hope that my boyfriend makes me feel special for more than a single night.” Your forehead creases, too livid at this point to even realize how sadly single you sound. 

You’re too busy ranting, accidentally speaking over Jimin to hear him reassure you that you are special. “Also there’s just so much pressure to make the night special, as if they have to plan something, otherwise they’re not the ‘perfect couple’ or the ‘perfect man.’” You emphasize with air quotes. 

“I felt that one,” he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“You see my point now?” You acknowledge him sullenly. There’s a tug on your heartstrings at the mention of his girlfriend, but you drive your point forward in hopes of changing the direction of topics. You don’t even want to think about whether or not he’s made plans with his girlfriend yet. 

“And what’s the deal with chocolates?” You yell, completely frustrated, throwing your arms up. “They’re totally overpriced. And cards? Cheesy and terrible. My Instagram feed? Flooded with PDA, and it's a big stab at singles like me.” You enunciate angrily, driving your fork harshly into your salad once again. 

He laughs and nearly falls off the stool he’s sat on top of before swiftly catching himself. You snicker at his unadulterated cuteness. 

“How ‘bout flowers?” He questions with ketchup lingering on the corner of his mouth. 

Picking up a napkin from the edge of the counter, you mindlessly reach across to wipe at his lips, still in the process of ranting. “Don’t get me started on flowers,” you shake your head, folding up the napkin on the table. Jimin smiles at you as your eyes train on the fork that digs through your salad, stabbing into the poor vegetables. “Florists overcharge for them, and I hate it because I didn’t get into this business for the purpose of cheating people out of their money.” At this point, you’re rolling your eyes, seething at the thought of Valentine’s Day. 

“Why’d you get into the business then?” He asks, silently offering his fries to you, the ones you’ve been eyeing ever since he revealed his lunch. 

“Because I love flowers,” you say plain as day, reaching to grab a fry. “Because they make me happy, and when I send them off to someone, I know it’ll make their day a little brighter too.”

You wave the fry around in the air before sticking it in your mouth. Capping off your empty bowl of salad, you don’t seem to notice how Jimin looks at you and the understated beauty you exude. 

“It’s cheesy, I know! You don’t have to look at me like I’m crazy,” you whine, briefly looking up at him with round eyes, turning around to toss your garbage. 

Jimin flashes you a big, toothy smile, “No, you’re not crazy. You’re just... exactly what I thought you were.” His voice is low, almost as if he’s thinking to himself. As if they’re words you’re not meant to hear. 

“Thanks? I think,” you giggle, unsure what he means. “Are you saying I’m predictable?” You inquire.

“I meant refreshing.” The crinkles at the corners of his eyes form as he grins. “I’m just trying to figure out why you don’t have a date for Valentine’s Day.” 

“First of all, I don’t need a date,” you say in defense, teasingly offended. 

“I know that, and you know what I mean. But you deserve to be treated like you’re speー” 

“Second of all, I do have one.” 

“Oh. You do?” He asks, creasing his brows and biting his plush lips. 

“Yeah, with myself,” you jest with a smile, elbows resting on the counter with hands cupping your face. 

Jimin’s chest deflates with an exhale, finally letting out the breath he’s been holding. “What, are you gonna watch The Notebook until you cry?” He pokes at your shoulder like a tease. 

“I’m not that predictable,” you eye him with a gleam in your iris, fully knowing that it is the case. “But maybe,” you affirm with a sly smirk, “after I close up the shop at midnight though.” 

“Knew it,” he scoffs. “But why are you closing so late? You should go home early so you can cry and watch The Notebook.”

“Mmm.” You hum, standing up from your stool and turning to hide the downturn of your lips. Running a rag underneath the faucet, you turn to wipe down the counter free of any crumbs. Jimin lifts his elbow up as you glide the cloth across the glass until it’s squeaky clean. “Let’s not forget that it’s Valentine’s Day, and I run a flower shop, Jimin. People are going to come by for a bouquet until the last second.” You exasperate, shaking your head in disapproval of all the last minute shoppers. 

“You can’t get anyone else to lock up?” He suggests. 

“They’ll hate me forever if I force them to work until midnight,” you reason, “Besides, it’s not like they’re single, so it’s fine. I can do it myself.” 

“I really think you should be resting though. You haven’t been sleeping well lately, right?” He asks with concern in his intonation. 

“I can take care of myself, I promise. I’m gonna treat myself after work anyways.” You do a little dance that consists of shimmying your shoulders and bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet. 

He smiles at you endearingly with wide eyes, “I don’t think crying to The Notebook is a form of treating yourself.” He repeats as if the joke will never die. 

You shake your head and click your tongue exclaiming, “If you must know, I’m gonna bake cookies.” 

“Are you gonna share with me?” He pleads. 

Your tongue pokes at your inner cheek as if you’re thinking about it. “Hmm, I don’t know. I might eat them all in one night.” Your lips purse in a taunt. 

His mouth forms a pout, and you’re forced to give in to him and his bright puppy dog eyes. 

“Ugh, fine, but only because you asked so nicely, I guess I can make some extras,” you groan, pressing your lips together straight like an arrow. You nudge his shoulder with your own despite the squeeze at your heart and the softening of your eyes, “For you and your girlfriend.” 

It’s not like you had to mention it. But it’s been on your mind since yesterday, and you’re sure that the only way to fix a broken heart is to learn to accept it. Even if it means plucking out the thorns that are lodged in your heart until it feels numb. Empty and devoid of life. 

“Girlfrie- oh, right, right. That’d be nice,” he sputters out, body stiffening, “Butー”

“Maybe I can bake them Thursday night?” You offer. “So you can pick them up on Friday if you buy flowers for her?” Your eyes blink in a failed attempt to wink. 

Jimin stifles a laugh at your pitiful endeavor. It’s really pathetic how hard you try, pretending that you’re not hurt right in front of the guy who stormed into your garden. 

But you suppose flowers can’t grow without a little bit of downpour. 

He licks his lips, and his smile falters. “Riiight, but it’s okay, you should enjoy your cookies on Friday night because I’m not sure I’ll be around to buy flowers that day anyways.” 

“What do you mean?” You ask, perplexed, head cocked to the side. 

“Uh, don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, brushing it off before taking a look at his watch. “I have to head back to work though, my break is almost ending.” You watch him carefully with narrowing eyes as he collects his belongings, scrambling to head out the door. With the exit half opened, he turns around to bid you goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

The bell chimes and he’s out of sight. 

You can’t even process his words because you’re too busy staring at the exit trying to figure out what the hell just happened. 

Adulthood is just an endless cycle of sleeping and working, but it seems like you’re lacking in the former activity seeing that all you do is work. In the final stretch of Valentine’s Day, with a few more days to go, you’re just about ready to crash and burn. 

Upon entering your quiet apartment tonight, you fail to do anything productive. You nose dive into bed and curl up into a cocoon at the strike of 10 pm. Somehow, you don’t even care enough to tug off your jeans or remove your smudged makeup. You’re ready to accept the consequences of bad skin and a stained pillowcase because the only thing that matters is that you knock out the moment your head hits the soft linen. There’s no time to replay the events of today or plan for tomorrow when your eyelids weigh you down into a deep slumber. 

There’s not a single thing that can spur you. Not even the shining of the moonlight over your profile or the rhythmic whizzing of cars on the empty street beneath you. Even when there’s a police siren ringing in the distance or a rumble from a descending airplane in the atmosphere above you, you don’t bat an eye. You can’t even hear the hum of the rusty pipelines when your neighbor hops into the shower at the breach of dawn. Even the whirring radiator and the ticking clock blurs into nothing but white noise. 

They’re all there to keep you company as you lie down in a bed of withered roses. To offer you comfort in your barren Renaissance garden. 

You can’t seem to put your finger on it, but you wake up feeling like it’s the best night of rest you’ve gotten in the last week despite it being a short lived slumber. It’s definitely the most consistent night of sleep you’ve had in a while. And even though you went to bed without dinner, it didn’t hinder your sleep whatsoever. It only means that you can eat a full breakfast to power through the day. 

And powering through is what you do best. 

Apparently, the world is up against you because you can’t remember the last time you even got to sit down. You’re constantly on your feet, attending to customers and fulfilling orders. There’s no time to breathe even when you’re literally enclosed in a greenhouse. There’s always something to do, and stopping to take a break means slowing down the process. It’s not an option you want to take. 

At the end of each day, you’re wobbling back home with sore muscles and blurred vision. Your ability to function is beyond your own imagination. Your definition of “functioning” has diminished to standing on your own two feet although that still bears a challenge for you. 

The sustenance in your body is nearly nonexistent, especially because you’ve been neglecting your self-care. Typically, you don’t think about eating on the job. It’s honestly not on your mind because there are only two things that occupy your brain space: (1) Work and (2) Jimin. 

Somehow, Jimin takes better care of you than you do yourself. And without him around, you’re a walking corpse. He’s always providing you with lunch and snacks, leaving you sticky notes with reminders to hydrate yourself. You didn’t realize that you needed him this much to remind you of the simple tasks like drinking or eating or… smiling.

Sometimes he draws cute flowers or scribbles plant puns on the post-it notes, sticking them onto obscure places that are hard for you to find. Your favorite one being the time he wrote “I love it when you call me big poppy.” 

He claims that the notes are designed to make you laugh, even for the few that are not very funny. They definitely do brighten your day, especially when you have the ephemeral chance to glance at them hanging up above your desk in the back office. Smiling at the itty-bitty illustrations has become second nature to you. When you’re going through a rough day, aka everyday, and you’re in need of a breather, you wander into the back room to pace around, only to come face to face with a kaleidoscope of doodled butterflies spanned across a string of rainbow post it notes.

He once drew a sunflower and said something cheesy about how your laughter is the embodiment of sunshine— how it would be a crime against the flora population if you were to go a day without laughter. 

It was corny and far from being right, but it was so perfectly Jimin. 

When he does stupid shit like that, it makes you feel like the biggest lovesick idiot in the world. In your naive past, you thought that the smiles he sent your way were ones reserved for you and only you. You were convinced that the shameless flirting was a silent mechanism used to express his inclination towards you. You assumed that the daily visits to your flower shop were formidable attempts to get to know you better. A little part of you hoped that the songs he shared with you equated to sharing a piece of his heart. 

You absolutely were sharing. You just didn’t realize that you’d be sharing with someone else. 

So when Jimin consigns adorable puns that melt your heart, and he stops by with a cup of coffee, just know that they’re acts of friendship. When he spends his lunch breaks at the flower shop and sings songs that remind him of you, he’s coming from a place of kindness, not attraction. 

It is true that Jimin’s your sunshine, but it’s also a fundamental principle to botanists that too much of something is bad enough, and too much of nothing is just as tough. And deceiving yourself into believing that he was all that you needed had scorched up all the flowers in your garden. 

The drought he put you in didn’t prepare you enough for the brewing storm. 

It pains you to say that you need him more than he needs you because even if he isn’t romantically interested in you, you would have hoped that he’d stick around as a friend. His waning presence leads you to believe that he’s simply not interested. 

Maybe you were too invested in what could have been between the two of you, you failed to see what was right there in plain sight. 

Somehow, you still wonder if he thinks about you as much as you think about him. And it’s pathetic granted you’re incredibly busy with work and your own crippling health. Yet thoughts of him still pop up throughout the day more than you would like. No matter how much you want to forget about your infatuation, you simply can’t will him away because of how often his beautiful face flashes before your eyes. You want to push him to the back of your mind, but whether you’re in need of a breather during your hectic schedule, admiring his stupid puns and butterfly mosaics, or you’re in need of some company in your eerily quiet apartment, doing laundry or having a meal all to yourself, you still can’t get the sound of his sweet laughter out of your head. 

You don’t know how it’s possible, but you manage to close up shop long before midnight. It’s a blessing and a curse because you are absolutely wiped out. Not only are you mentally checked out, but ironically, your flower shop is destitute of flowers, completely sold out from the holiday. As you clean up the barren space, you can’t help but feel as if a big weight has been lifted off your shoulders. The stress of Valentine’s Day is over, and you can finally go home, lie in bed with a tray of cookies, and enjoy the beauty that is Ryan Gosling. 

You even consider closing the store all of tomorrow because you need the day off to recharge. So as you print out and paste your notice on the glass door, you’re dumbfounded to come across a sliver of paper that’s already attached on the other side. Opening up the door and letting in a gust of cold air breeze by you, you remove the sticky note that’s been unknowingly attached to your entrance. 

Not a daisy goes by that I don’t think of you.

The smile that tugs on your lips grapples against the ache in your heart. Quickly, the fond smile melts into one of hurt and disappointment. Your left hand balls into a tight fist, marring crescent moon shapes into your palms. Meanwhile, your right hand delicately fiddles with the tiny square between your fingers, debating whether or not you should crumple up the paper and toss it away to be long forgotten. You’ve never been so confused about your feelings until Park Jimin came into your life, but you tuck the little daisy doodle into the pocket of your coat with a sigh. 

With every passing year, Valentine’s Day becomes a little more bearable than the previous. Tonight feels like any other night, but better. You’ve come to accept that if there isn’t someone who can make you feel special, you might as well do it yourself. 

Making a meal for you that doesn’t consist of ramen or 5 minute rice while dimming the lights and sparking up some candles is undeniably part of the healing process. And that’s what tonight mainly consists of. It’s all about love and self-care. 

With your laptop perched on top of your dinner table and your Netflix queue lined up, you mindlessly mix at your wet and dry ingredients with a wooden spoon. Nothing has made you feel more at ease than the comfort of watching your favorite movie on repeat and the sweet taste of raw cookie dough on your tongue. Sometimes it’s the simple things in life that can put a smile on your face. 

As you wait for your cookies to bake, you settle into bed with your legs crossed and back pressed against the headboard. Laughter from the speakers of your laptop fill the space, and you can’t help but laugh along with the characters, disrupting the peaceful ambiance of your apartment complex. The rumble of your laughter subsides, and the movie rolls on from scene to scene. 

Your ears perk up like Pavlov’s dog when the oven goes off. You turn your head so quickly you nearly get whiplash, but it’s all worth it for the love of chocolate chip cookies. The aroma of sugar is enough to will yourself out of bed and conveniently press pause on Ryan Gosling’s charming face. 

Pulling on your oven mitts to retrieve the hot platter, your body begins to sway around to the sudden echo of music. The soft guitar strums reverberate through the walls and against the vacant space of your studio. Your body stops moving to the acoustics when you realize where the noise is coming from. Looking up, your eyes bore into the eggshell walls as if you can see through it. But you soon space out, focusing on the vibrations of the nylon strings instead. 

The song fades out and the quietude breaks you out of your reverie. You blink in confusion, trying to remember the last time you heard from your neighbor. Although you haven’t spent much time in your apartment in the past week, you miss the late night chats with him. Lately, you’ve been knocking out as soon as your head hits the pillow for some much needed rest. You haven’t heard his voice in forever, and especially not his angelic singing voice. Even tonight he refrains from singing in place of just practicing his guitar. 

It’s a bit out of the ordinary. 

His side of the wall is surprisingly quiet tonight. You would have expected him to be out and about with his girlfriend, but at this point of the night, they would have been jumping at each other's bones. Yet the gentle patter of footsteps and the lack of banging would suggest that he’s flying solo tonight. 

Despite your curiosity, you’re not sure whether or not you’d want to bring it up in case it reopens some wounds. You think it’s best to leave it alone for the time being until he’s ready to come to you instead. 

So as you proceed with bingeing your movies, there’s something in the back of your mind that still distracts you. It’s literally a crime that you’ve sat through 2 hours of The Notebook, yet you haven’t shed a single tear because you’re not even focused on the film in front of you. Rather, you’re thinking long and hard about the last time you heard your neighbor laugh in sincerity. 

You really couldn’t care any less about the end credits that roll in front of you. Rather, with your chin propped up in the palm of your hands, you listen intently to what’s happening on the other side of the wall. It’s bizarrely quiet, aside from the sad symphony of string instruments that ring in the background of the ending credits. 

When your screen turns black, you shut off your laptop and stow it away, knowing in your heart that you’re no longer in the mood for a romantic movie marathon. You make your way into your kitchen and reach for the cookies that have cooled off by now. But somehow, it feels wrong to sit here in enjoyment of your own company. Yet at the same time, this batch of cookies was the only thing you were looking forward to all week. 

Nothing seems to satisfy you. 

The only desire that creeps upon you is the desire to spend the night with someone else by your side. Frankly, it’s stupid because you know that you don’t need a man, and even the whole world knows that you don’t need one. Especially not on Valentine’s Day because you’ve made it abundantly clear that you hate February 14th with every fibre of your being.

However, the idea of having a friend at your side doesn’t seem so bad at this point. 

You transfer all the cookies from the tray onto a smaller plate, arranging the delectable morsels into a presentable fashion. 

With your slippers on, you make your way out of your apartment, letting the door close softly behind you. Standing in front of your neighbor’s abode, you nervously shift your weight on the heels of your feet. Midnight is approaching, and you wouldn’t want to disrupt his night like this, but it just feels right to knock on his door and offer your company. Just to check up on him because perhaps he’s in need of some companionship just like you. And who wouldn’t want some chocolate chip cookies? Baked with 80% sugar and 100% love. 

Mustering up all the courage in your body, your hand comes up in a tight fist, knocking at the wooden door. You wait a moment, but to your dismay, there’s no evidence of movement on the other side of the partition. You would have heard his footsteps by now, and perhaps the turning of the deadbolt, but it’s dead silent. 

Perhaps he didn’t hear you, so you knock a little harder this time.

Nothing. 

As you stand outside, lost in naivety, you wonder whether you should try to make a fool of yourself and knock again. It’s been a good 5 minutes of you debating between speaking up to get his attention or giving up and retreating to your studio in embarrassment. Then you mentally facepalm yourself remembering that it’s incredibly rude of you to drop by without any kind of warning. 

But still, you had his best interests in mind. 

You think that the third time’s the charm, so in a last attempt, you knock with full force. 

“Uhh, hey!” Your voice shakes and cracks. Blame it on the nerves. “I made some cookies, and I thought I’d share some!” You semi-yell in hopes of catching his attention. 

“One second!” Oh, thank God. You can hear the bed frame creak on the other side and the skid of footsteps across the floor boards. 

Your heartbeat weirdly picks up because of the fact that this is quite literally the first time you’ve come face to face with your neighbor. The late night chats with him have always made you feel comfortable, but there’s a certain nuance to meeting him that shakes your nerves. 

You brace yourself as you hear the lock turn, eyes casting down towards the plate in front of you. 

“I didn’t know that today’d be the day we meet like thiー” He says as the door swings open. 

You look up expecting to greet him with a smile, but the one you had prepared falters from your lips. 

“What’re youー” 

“Y- You liveー” 

You stutter over one another, lost in confusion. Staring into the very familiar set of brown eyes in front of you, you’re confounded by your new discovery. 

Jimin stands before you, running his hand through his black locks as he opens the door wider, stepping aside to let you through. 

“Hey, neighbor?” He sounds disoriented, untrusting of his voice. 

You’re stood frozen at the foot of the entrance, unsure as to how you could possibly process all of this. 

“I heard you made cookies?” He asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Here, come in.” He gently tugs on your sleeve, coddling you because of the state of shock you’re in. 

You nod your head, barely cognizant of what’s being said. But your feet still shuffle through the entryway, and you slide off your slippers at the front door. 

“This is so crazy,” he says, taking the plate of cookies off your hands. You’re both surprised that you have yet to drop them. He places the plate onto his coffee table, and his back is turned to you as you stand to the side, playing with the sleeves of your sweater. 

How much weirder can this situation possibly get? 

“You mean to tell me that we’ve been neighbors all this time and we didn’t even know?” You ask, sucking your lips inward, cocking your head to the side. Your words are a jumbled mess, but Jimin has become a master at deciphering your incoherent words through the thin walls many nights in a row. 

“I’m just as surprised as you! I can’t believe I didn’t connect the dots?” He exclaims in dismay, patting the seat beside him on the couch as an invitation to you. 

Your brain feels as if it’s lost all of its cells because you have so many questions, yet you can’t seem to articulate them. As you sit down, you close your eyes and rub at your temples, praying that you’d wake up from this odd dream. 

“There’s no way I could have connected the dots,” you sputter in collection of your thoughts, completely exasperated. “I just don’t understand.” 

You fiddle with your fingers, and Jimin takes your hand in his. His touch is soft, and as much as you want to pull away, you give into him because there’s no way you’d ever deny him, especially not when he looks at you with those big round eyes. 

“I have so many questions,” you admit, rubbing at your eyelids. 

“Shoot.” 

“Uhm,” your head shakes wildly. “I don’t even know where to begin?” Your eyes widen, shocked by how nonchalant he’s acting. As if he didn’t just lead you on and ghost you days on end, pretending that everything’s okay now. 

“Take your time,” he chuckles reassuringly, offering you a calming smile. 

“Uhm… How are you? I guess? Th- that’s kind of the first thing I wanted to ask you before… I- you know.” 

Your heart gallops because he’s looking at you, biting his lip. And you, you are completely weak for the man who holds all of your affection in the palm of his hands, yet you can’t handle his smoldering stare, so you avert your eyes elsewhere. This is downright cruel and unusual punishment. 

You continue, “Because I haven’t spoken to you much lately, you know?” 

“You wanted to check up on me?” 

You blink away, eyes now focused on the vase of wilting flowers on the coffee table. Pink and red variegated carnations. You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself and regulate your breath. Your body stiffens and your shoulders tense. Even your jaw tightens, but you manage to nod your head. 

“I’ve been better,” he admits sullenly. 

Your hand lets go of his, pulling back to seek comfort at your side. It just doesn’t feel right to hold his hand so intimately when he’s made a mess of your head and your heart. You just can’t do it to yourself, and you can’t do it to him or his girlfriend. Especially not when his heart belongs to her. 

You open your mouth as if you have another question to ask, but none of them are coherent enough to utter. There’s plenty of noise ringing in your head, but it’s all nonsense. 

Jimin gently rests his hand on the ball of your knee, almost like a graze, but his touch is hot, and you brush him off with the recoil of your leg. 

His shoulders slump, and his eyes soften. His hands retract to his lap, respecting your wishes. He gulps, and noticeably the lump in his throat goes down in a swallow. 

“Hey, it’s just me, okay? You don’t need to be scared.” He displays his palms out to you as a peace offering. A symbol of vulnerability. The tension in the air is palpable, but you still manage to keep your guard down in front of him. 

Because this is Jimin. The guy you’ve come to know and unfortunately love. But it’s just that you’ve never seen Jimin like this.

“Yeah and that’s kind of the problem,” you breathe out. Your brows knit into a frown, and he looks at you in bewilderment, with wide eyes, parted lips, and stress tousled hair. “I- I don’t know if you’re Jimin the mysterious neighbor who’s been nothing but nice to me, or Jimin the guy from the flower shop who pretty much made it loud and clear he doesn’t want to see me,” you scoff. 

“B- butー What do you mean? We’re the same person.” His eyes narrow, and he shakes his head subtly trying to convince you. He fiddles with his fingers, cracking his knuckles out of bad habit.  Shifting his body so his knees are pointed towards yours, nearly in contact, he refrains from the much needed skinship. The heat radiating from his body is something you’re familiar with, and although it once brought you comfort, you can only feel resentment. 

“Of course I want to see you? Iー I?” He’s a stuttering mess, shaking his head from side to side as if you’ve got it all wrong, but you interject because you have so much to say, yet you haven’t expressed yourself to your liking just yet. 

“I don’t know about that!” Your hands clench up at your sides until your knuckles turn sharp. “Because neighbor Jimin is telling me he has a fuck buddy he thinks he’s in love with, and flower shop Jimin has a girlfriend he doesn’t want to talk about. So what is it? I’m hearing a lot about mixed feelings for this one person, and… if you’re involved with someone, I don’t want to get in the middle of this,” you spit out more harshly than expected, inching further and further away to the edge of the couch with your arms crossed over your chest. You gulp down a thick glob of spit in hopes of washing down the acidic sting in your throat, but it’s like bile just sits there on your tongue. 

“Let me explain, okay?” He begs of you. 

You sit there in sullen silence, staring at the carnations in your peripherals, ready to have him break your heart all over again. You nod, but you don’t even bother turning to face him, unsure whether or not you’d be able to hear him talk about how he’s in some complicated relationship with someone else. 

“Please, look at me?” he pleads with a sniffle, “I need to know if you’re okay.” His voice cracks, and you finally look his way. You’re far from okay, but seeing him with glossy eyes, you also know that he isn’t either. 

He licks his lips, and his hand comes up in desperate need of tucking the stray strand of hair that’s fallen in front of your face. But he decides against it in fear of rejection, and he rests his hand on the ball of his knee instead. Your line of sight falls to his shaking leg. You hesitantly reach across to close your hand softly around his in comfort. His movement stops instantly as he lets out a huff. 

Licking your lips, your eyes gaze towards your hands, and you can’t help but imagine how they’d slot into one another so perfectlyー 

“_____?” Your eyes shift to lock with his and there are tears that brim at his corners, but they’re kept at bay, refusing to fall. 

“I-” He exhales. 

You squeeze his hand a little tighter, and you don’t know if it’s more for yourself or for him, but it gives him the strength to continue on. 

“Look, that girl and I? We weren’t in a relationship. I promise you. I told you that we were friends with benefits because that’s what we were.” He insists, hoping the message gets across to you, but your heart drops lower into your stomach at his admission. You don’t even want to picture him with some other girl, yet you know way more about their relationship than you would have ever wanted. 

Hell, you were even convinced that they were in love. A highlight reel of the last few months spent in your apartment flashes before your eyes, and your grip on his hand loosens. You think back to the days when Jimin was just some faceless guy, dancing around with his supposed girlfriend, having pillow fights, running warm baths, making out beneath the stars, and fucking around with her like they were in love. 

But he continues in hopes that you’d understand his point of view. “It was easier to tell you the truth because you didn’t know who I was, and you wouldn’t have judged me for it. So I was an idiot, and at the flower shop, I told you she was my girlfriend because it would have been easier to explain this complicated mess.” A single tear cascades down his cheek, and he wipes it away with the crook of his elbow. 

“I mean, she wanted it to be serious, but there was just something pulling me back. And do you know what that was?” 

You shake your head no and pull away, unsure how much more of this you can take. 

He looks you dead in the eyes, but you can’t even look at him for another second because the wilting carnations are sitting there, mocking you. 

“_____, you asked me the other day what I liked about her, and I was wracking my brain trying to come up with an answer... It wasn’t easy because you were the only person I thought about.”

A sudden tear escapes from the corner of your eyes, unbelieving, but you compel yourself to look back at his visage, checking for any tells of a lie. He doesn’t even falter. 

“She and I? We fought so much because she was convinced I had feelings for someone else. And you know?” He shakes his head,  “…It’s true. I couldn’t think about the things I liked about her, but then when I thought of you. My god, it was just so much easier to talk about the things I loved about you because you’re the one I like. I didn’t know how to express that, okay? The songs that I wrote? The ones you hear me sing day and night? Fuck…” He rubs at his eyes, and they’re evidently red from all the tears welled up. “They’re all about you, and you didn’t even know,” he sobs out. The first drop of tears came out steadily, but as you examine his face in total shock, the tears begin to cascade down his face. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, now understanding where he’s coming from. It’s all a little more clear to you, and there’s no need to continue on if he’s in hysteria like this. His arms instinctively squeeze around your waist, holding on tight, too afraid that he’d lose you if he were to let go. 

“I didn’t have my feelings sorted out because I was comfortable with where I was, but it’s not like it made me happy,” he confesses. You hush him, running your fingers through his hair and caressing his slumped back. Sitting in silence, you can only hear the sound of your breathing falling into sync with his. Occasionally, the radiator would go off and a car would drive by on the street beneath you. 

You tell him that it’s all okay and that all is forgiven, but he still continues in justification of himself. “And I was convinced that you’d think I was a horrible person for liking someone else when I’ve got a complicated relationship going on, okay? Because that’s how I felt about myself, and I swear we broke it off, but I was too embarrassed to come to you because I didn’t know how to explain the mess I got myself into. It’s all my fault, and I’m so so so sorry, you have no idea.” 

He’s wracked with sobs, but you hum, listening intently to his every word. They’re coherent enough for you to realize that you’ve both made mistakes because of a huge misunderstanding. 

The Jimin that you know and love is right here in your arms, and there’s nothing you can do but forgive and forget. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” he cries out with a hiccup. “I promise you that you’re the only person I care about.” 

You whisper sweet nothings into his ear, hoping that he calms down because there’s really nothing to apologize for. “What did I say? You don’t have to be sorry, okay?” You remind him. 

He lets out a breathy exhale, “I messed up,” he hiccups, “I don’t deserve this. You.” 

Your hands rest on his shoulder, gently pulling back from him, but he clings on tighter to your waist. Looking down at the sweet man beneath you, you smile to yourself. 

“Jimin,” you murmur.

“Hm?” 

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” You shake your head, and a soft chuckle vibrates through your chest. Still, you keep him in your embrace because although it may seem like Jimin is the one in need of a hug, you need it just as much as he does. 

“Can I tell you a story?” You ask. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, tickling the skin at your sternum. 

“I think I caught feelings for you the first time we met. Do you remember that?” He hums as you reminisce on the memory. “It was some random Sunday, and you walked in looking for a bouquet for your mom, but you realized you didn’t have enough cash on youー” 

Jimin laughs beneath you, and it’s the way that he laughs that makes you realize you need that in your life. A cheshire grin spreads across your lips, and that’s when you know you can’t go a single day without hearing his laugh again. 

“You didn’t have enough cash, so you pulled out a post it note and scribbled an IOU.” You can barely get the sentence out without chuckling to yourself. Jimin has stopped sobbing at this point, being reduced to a few sniffles here and there. You deem it as the right moment to pull back from his embrace so you can look him in the eyes. 

“You drew a little daisy for me and that’s when I knew you were really something else.” 

You cup his cheeks, and a grin tugs on his lips, matching the one on your face. His eyes shine in the dim light, just like how the sun radiates in the day time. A single tear trickles down his plush cheeks, and you wipe it away with the pad of your thumb. 

“Look, I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember, and I have to admit that it hurt me when you said you had a girlfriend, but it really hurt me when you left without saying anything.” 

His eyes cast downwards as if he’s ashamed, but you place your hand beneath his chin, bringing his attention back up. 

“Know that I’d never judge you for the decisions you make and for the relationships you have, okay? And I don’t think you’re horribleー” 

“You don’t?” He cuts you off with his big pleading eyes. 

“No, far from it,” you beam, “I still think you’re the most selfless person I know.” 

Jimin’s face drops at your confession, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel like you’re not special, because to me, you’re the most extraordinary person in this world.” 

He cups your face, noticing that your eyes are starting to well. Drops of tears roll down your face, and Jimin’s quick to dry them away, pressing his lips against your cheeks to collect the drops of salt water. As you smile, another stream of tears pour from your ducts. Soft pecks are trailed against your skin, and you think you’ve successfully washed away all the pain. 

You can feel the flowers in your heart slowly starting to bloom in preparation for spring. 

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, opening up your eyes. He’s merely a few inches away from you, stuck in a daze. 

His eyes can’t decide whether they want to look at the gleam in your irises or at the curvature of your lips, flickering between the two. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” Your whimper is hardly loud enough for your own ears, but he hears you loud and clear. 

His hands rest at the sides of your neck as his thumbs run over your cheeks, grazing over the flesh of your lips. “Can I show you how special you are to me?” 

You nod your head, and Jimin is overcome with the urge to kiss you, inching closer with puckered lips. They’re soft against your own, plush and pillowy. You melt into his touch as if he’s the light of your life. You think you could cry again from the sheer amount of euphoria built up in your little heart. Having him in your arms is all you could ever ask for. 

He pulls back slightly in need of a breath, and you take the opportunity to climb into his lap, with knees settled on either side of his taut thighs. 

“Missed you,” you whimper against the column of his neck, nosing at the sensitive skin. 

Jimin’s breath hitches as he bites back a moan, “Missed you more.” 

“Not possible,” you trail gentle kisses against his collarbones, pulling back on the cotton of his t-shirt to expose more of his neck. 

His hands rest on your outer thighs thighs, squeezing tight on the muscles. You reach behind you to grab at his forearms, urging him to move his hands higher onto your body. He takes the hint immediately and experimentally squeezes at your ass. Your lips part from his neck, and Jimin takes the opportunity to latch his mouth back onto yours. 

His lips are gentle in contrast to the firm grip he has on you. But with your weight resting on top of him, core pressed up against his crotch, you can feel how hard he is beneath you. In need of some release, you start to move your hips back and forth, grinding over his hard on. 

Jimin gives you a lingering kiss on your lips, pulling back with a harsh groan. You offer a teasing smile, and he leans forward. He supports your weight at the bottom of your ass as your legs wrap around his waist. You nearly yelp when he stands, holding you up in his arms. 

“I got you,” he reassures, pressing his lips firmly against yours, walking towards his unmade bed space. He lays you down gently on top of the messy covers, climbing between your legs. You whine upon the release of his lips, but his mouth leaves hot kisses down the column of your throat, causing you to gasp.

“Is it okay if we take this off?” He asks, thumbing at the hem of your sweater. 

You nod sitting up, and he tugs the material off for you, tossing it to the edge of the bed. Upon sight of your bare chest, he molds into you, lips suctioning around your pebbled nipple. His other hand massages at your unattended breast, squeezing at the supple flesh.

“You’re beautiful,” he hums against your body.

You’re easily affected by his words as your back arches and your legs hook around his torso. Canting your hips upward, you signal to Jimin with a whine that you’re desperate for his touch. 

“There’s no need to rush, baby, we have the whole night,” he warns you, leaving a kiss between the valley of your breasts. 

You cry out in frustration, but it soon subsides when he satiates your needs. You relax when his hand lowers into your sweatpants, cupping at your heat. His middle finger traces at your entrance, running it up and down your panty clad slit. Your hips lurch once again, but Jimin presses your hips down, flush against the mattress. 

As his tongue circles around your sensitive nipple, his fingers decide to dip into your underwear. The obscene sound of your juices squelching can be heard when he presses his finger into your tight hole. Inserting a finger in, you can feel your walls stretch around him. A cry falls from your lips as he begins to rub at your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

Jimin inserts another finger, and your cunt feels so hot with the amount of friction. Pumping two fingers in and out, there’s a pleasurable burn that ripples throughout your body. Beads of sweat form on your hairline, and you wipe them away with the back of your hand. You can practically feel your heart beating out of your chest. 

“Tell me how it feels, okay?” He asks, switching over to your other breast.

“You feel so good,” you mewl. He hums against your nipple in affirmation, biting lightly at the perky bud. 

“Jimin?” You call out for him. 

He parts from your chest to look into your eyes, fingers still pumping in and out of you with flexing biceps. 

“I think it’d feel better if you’d fuck me,” you admit, no filter needed. 

“Shit,” he groans, slowing down the pace. “I want to eat you out first though.” 

He retracts his hand, and you feel empty without him inside. Your sweatpants and panties are tugged off in one swift motion, casted to the side along with your sweatshirt. Looking up with stars in your eyes, you can see that Jimin is still fully dressed. You open your mouth to tell him about your wishes, but he must have read your mind because he pulls off his t-shirt and throws it with no regard. 

Beneath his clothing, he reveals to you his robust body. You’re dripping with lust, and it must be so obvious from the way you stare at his abdominals. Everything about him is so well-built, and you curse the talented dancer in front of you. 

“Like what you see?” He teases, winking at you as he descends down your body. 

“Love it,” you moan. 

His breath is hot against your wet pussy. With juices dripping down your ass, you ruin the linen sheets beneath you. His fingers play with your core, spreading your swollen lips to reveal your flower, admiring how pretty your cunt is. 

Sitting up with elbows propped, you look down in frustration between your bent legs to see Jimin licking his lips, staring at your heat like he’s ready to devour you. He kisses at the long, dark lines of stretch marks that reside on your inner thighs before his tongue presses softly against your wet clit, kitten licking at the bud. Reaching out, your hand balls around the white comforter to anchor yourself down. As you spread your legs wider, Jimin’s hands hook around your limbs to rest at your thighs. He presses them down, restricting your movement. 

His tongue laps at your heat with no mercy, licking a stripe up your sex and tracing letters onto your clit, sending your nerves aflame. Your breaths are shallow as you pant, melding yourself to the mattress. He flicks his tongue, prodding it against your hole and delving in and out. He massages your tight walls as it clenches around his tongue. 

There’s a knot in your stomach that forms embarrassingly fast, but you can’t help it when his plush lips give your cunt so much attention, sucking harshly on your clitoris. He looks over at your features, taking notice of your reactions, licking over and over the parts that make you squirm the most. 

Your face scrunches in pleasure, nearly toppling over the edge. But you’re not ready to come. Not yet at least. Not without having Jimin’s hard cock inside of you. 

Jimin is relentless against your pussy, but he doesn’t even let up when you call his name out. Your grip around the comforter loosens in favor of digging your fingers into Jimin’s luscious black locks. 

“Jimiiiin,” you whine, tugging lightly at his roots. “I need you, please, please,” you beg. 

He leaves a kiss at your bud, and you shudder in response. Jimin climbs up your body, and you shiver at the loss of contact. 

“You need me, huh?” He teases, “You want to come?” You nod your head ardently when he presses his red, swollen lips against yours. He grapples with your mouth in a bruising, passionate kiss. With clicking teeth and suckling tongues, you can taste yourself off of his plush lips, completely drenched in your arousal. 

Trailing your hand down Jimin’s sturdy body, you can’t resist running your hands over his perfectly sculpted abs. But on your descent, you pull on the strings of his heather gray sweatpants, loosening the elastic around his waist. 

Your palm slides beneath the band, tucking beneath his boxer briefs. His eyebrows scrunch, and he gasps against your mouth when you wrap your hand around his hot, veiny cock, stroking at his erection. His cheeks flush as you swipe your thumb over the head, collecting beads of precum on your fingers. 

He shudders at your touch. “Oh my God, I might die if you keep doing that,” he nearly cries. 

You smile against the skin of his neck, sucking at his pulse point. Meanwhile, Jimin reaches over to his nightstand, pulling out a condom. He nearly falls off the bed, losing balance on his knee when you stroke his cock a little faster. 

As Jimin sits up, trying to open up the packaging, you careen forward to pull off his sweats. You can hardly pull it down below his thick ass given the position he’s sitting in. But it’s enough for you to pull his dick out and wrap your hand around his girth in all its glory. 

While waiting for Jimin to take out the condom, you decide to tease him like he deserves. Switching positions, you lie down on your stomach in front of him. With a glob of saliva built up in your mouth, you spit onto the head of his cock, watching it drip down the shaft and onto his balls. You glide your hand up and down to spread the saliva, making sure he’s nice and wet. His balls tighten the moment you suckle your lips around his slit. 

You look up at Jimin with wide eyes in hope of some praise. 

His eyes stare into yours, but he quickly throws his head back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck I’m not gonna last, please, I know your mouth is like heaven, but I want to be inside you,” he rambles. 

He tucks your hair behind your ears and rests his hand beneath your chin, tilting it upwards. His lips meet your forehead in a sweet kiss before you lie back down on the bed, spreading your legs wide open as an invitation. 

Jimin ungracefully pulls off his pants down the rest of his legs. He pumps his thick cock in his hands before sliding on the condom and lining himself up at your entrance. You groan, reaching out for his wrists as he glides his length up and down your folds, making sure you're nice and wet for him, fully prepped. 

The callous on his thumb is rough against your clit as he rubs down on it, easing the discomfort of penetration. Your velvety walls stretch around his member as he sinks into you inch by inch. 

You’re gasping for air as he sheaths himself inside you, but you remain calm because Jimin peppers kisses all across your face. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, concerned. 

“Mhmm,” you hum, “Might need a second.” 

His nose nudges at your cheek, “Take all the time you need, baby.” 

Moments go by until you’re comfortable with the stretch. You don’t know how Jimin has so much patience with you when you can literally feel his dick twitch inside your pussy, impossibly harder than he was moments prior. But like the angel he is, he still waits for your go-ahead. 

“Jimin, you can move,” you whisper, cupping his cheek and offering a butterfly kiss. 

His mouth finds his way to yours, and he kisses you with so much fervor. You’re too distracted by the kiss to notice him slide out of you. 

But your lips part slightly, letting out a gasp when he drives his dick back into you, setting a moderate pace. Your hands reach for the skin of his back, latching your nails onto the smooth surface. The slap of skin on skin is obscene as his hips meet yours, pumping himself inside of you. The delicious burn has you digging your nails into his shoulder blades, scratching at his taut muscles. 

You weren’t wrong to say that you can’t go another day without hearing Jimin’s laughter, but at the time, you were not privileged enough to hear his moans against the shell of your ear. That is the one thing you don’t want to ever live without, too spoiled by the sensual man above you. 

Jimin fucks into you deeply, changing his angle as he shifts his weight onto his knees. His calculated thrusts to your g-spot sends you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes focus on your pussy, watching his dick disappear inside of you like an addiction. With a firm grasp on your hips, he lifts you higher to help you reach your orgasm. 

“Jimin, I’m gonna come,” you gasp, gripping your walls tightly around his length. 

“I know, baby, you can come.” He lowers himself onto his elbows so he can come face to face with you. His hands reach down between your bodies, and he rubs harsh figure eights on your swollen clit. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body trembles beneath him, moaning his name like a vice. 

Jimin rides out your high, pumping into your tight hole until your legs nearly give out. He doesn’t dare pull away, continuing to circle your clit until you’ve nearly reached your limits. Your walls pulse around his cock, squeezing around his shaft until he’s nearly at his edge. His hair is matted to his forehead, slicked by sweat. You brush away the loose strands with the tips of your fingers. 

“Are you close?” You breathe out, hush and quiet, cupping his jaw with the palm of your hands. 

“Mhmm,” he gulps, rutting into you, pumping your cum in and out as it sheaths his shaft. 

His pace falters as he approaches his orgasm, hips stuttering against yours. Jimin nearly collapses on top of you as he spills himself into the condom, moaning into the cusp of your ear. His chest presses up against yours as he attempts to catch his breath.

You trace soothing circles onto his back as he basks in the afterglow of post orgasmic sex. 

His breathing soon evens out, and it’s comfortably quiet, that is with the exception of the radiator hissing in the corner of the studio. 

“Wow.” He kisses your temple before pulling out, letting the remains of your cum flow out of you. He rolls over onto his back, pulling you into his warm embrace.

“So on a scale of 1-10, how special would you say you feel right about now?” A smug smirk tugs on his lips, and you playfully smack his pecks. 

“Does this answer your question?” You ask, peppering 10 kisses onto his lips. 

“Mmm, no, I didn’t quite hear your answer” he says, leaning in for another kiss, “Tell me one more time?” 

And as Jimin kisses you goodnight, you know in your heart that the heartache and the loss of $5 are all worth it in the end if it means you get to wake up and smell the roses with Jimin at your bedside. 

[this-is-where-i-hide-my-bullshit]

Everything I can find about sleep says "you don't dream immediately after falling asleep! It should take about 90 minutes to enter rem!" And that's absolute bullshit because I start dreaming the second I fall asleep, which sucks because sometimes it goes straight into nightmares and I end up waking up after like 5 minutes of being asleep and then I have to force myself to stay awake for about 30 minutes or I'll go right back into another nightmare and risk getting sleep paralysis.

[omgrachwrites]

The Book of Love - Chapter Four

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Ravenclaw!Reader

Summary: After a breakup leaves you heartbroken and miserable, things start to change for the better when you begin exchanging notes in a library book with a mystery boy.

Warnings: fluff!!

Words: 2293

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this part! Please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all!

Chapter Four

The morning of the first Hogsmeade trip dawned with a beautiful clear morning but there was a blustery wind that caused leaves on the trees to rocket to the floor. For once, you were up early, sketching the beautiful landscape. It delighted you to see the shades of amber and burnt orange everywhere. Hagrid’s hut was almost blanketed by the hulking trees of the forest and when the weak sunlight sparkled through the remaining leaves, it cast the hut in a heavenly orange glow.

You felt like there would be great promise for the day and you knew that it would be a fantastic day. Maybe it was because Hogsmeade was an exceptionally beautiful village, or maybe it was because you know that you would see Rem- your friends again. You weren’t quite sure what had been happening to you for the last few days. Before you went to sleep, unbeknownst to you why, your thoughts went to Remus and it made falling asleep all that much easier.

When you woke up in the dark of night he was the first thing on your mind, almost like you had just had a dream about him. You refused to feel that way about anybody – well apart from your mystery boy – you couldn’t give someone else a chance to hurt you, especially not Remus. You didn’t think your heart would be able to take it.

With a sigh, you put your sketchbook down and you decided to get dressed in warm clothes  and you combed your hair. About ten minutes later, Lyra woke up running her fingers through her fluffy hair and you smiled over at her.

“Are you coming to Hogsmeade with me and the others?”

She groaned as she threw an arm over her eyes and shook her head, “no, I can’t bear to face Sirius, his favour changes like the wind,” she removed her arm and pouted and you were sure that you could see tears sparkling in her eyes. She looked so hurt.

You bit your bottom lip, you weren’t going to tell her that you told her so. She had been seeing Sirius for a few weeks before he broke it off and started sleeping with someone else. Seeing the same person for a few weeks was equal to a serious relationship for Sirius, “I’m sorry Lyra,” you sighed, it was the only thing you could think of to say that wouldn’t hurt her.

She smiled brightly as she got out of bed and walked over to you to give you a tight hug before she kissed your cheek affectionately, “don’t apologise, you told me so and I should have listened to you but I just wanted to have hope. Have a good day today Y/N, with Remus,” she added with a smirk as she got back into bed.

You rolled your eyes as you threw your pillow at her causing her to laugh, “Remus and I are just friends,” for now, that little voice in the back of your mind spoke and you immediately shut it out. You wouldn’t think like that, “see you later, I’ll bring you back some sweets,” you grinned.

Lyra narrowed her eyes as she spoke in what tried to be a menancing voice but it didn’t really work because she was so tired, “yeah, you’d better.”

You shook your head in amusement as you left the common room and went to have breakfast at the Gryffindor table with your friends. After a hurried breakfast, you and the gang walked up the lane that led from Hogwarts and into Hogsmeade. You huddled into your scarf as the cold autumn wind picked up.

You smiled up at Remus, though you could hardly look him in the eyes, not when you were sure that you were having dreams about him. He looked much better compared to how he looked when you saw him last, “are you feeling better Remus? You really do look much better.”

Panic flashed in his eyes for a just a second before he looked at you with a dimpled smile, “I’m feeling much better, thank you for asking Y/N.”

You smiled back at him as you looked over Remus’ shoulder and saw Sirius grinning at the both of you. When Sirius noticed you looking over at him he gave you a thumbs up, causing you to roll your eyes as you turned away from him. The rest of the walk up to the village was rather uneventful as you chatted with Lily and Peter.

When you got to the beautiful village you noticed that it had been lavishly decorated for Halloween and there was the matter of where to go first.

“Well, I want to go to Zonkos,” Sirius spoke up first and James and Peter both nodded in agreement while Remus groaned.

“I’m voting for Honeydukes,” Remus said and you supposed that pulling pranks got a bit tiresome after a while.

You also spoke up before you could stop yourself, “I’m with Remus, I second his vote for Honeydukes.”

Lily looked between the two of you with a conspiring look on her face, “well, how about we split up? You guys can go to Honeydukes and we’ll go to Zonkos. We can meet up later on in The Three Broomsticks for a pint of Butterbeer,” she smiled innocently but you knew what she was trying to do.

You glared at her before looking up at Remus who was peering down at you with worried eyes, quickly you transformed your face into a smile, “sounds good.”

Remus nodded and smiled at you, looking thoroughly relieved, “yeah it does, come on Y/N.”

Off the two of you went in the direction of the sweet shop and you refused to look back at your traitourous friends. As soon as you walked into the warm sweet smelling shop you inhaled the toffee scented air. Remus made a beeline for the chocolate section, his face lighting up like a child’s and you smiled at how excited he was.

“Chocolate, seriously?” you giggled as you walked over to the Sugar Quills to find they had brought out a limited edition strawberry flavour.

Remus let out a little gasp of mock offence, “chocolate makes everything better, seriously, everything,” he looked over at you with a warm smile, “but I’m guessing that you’re more of a sweet person?”

You nodded in confirmation as you grabbed a handful of boxes, “I do, particularly Sugar Quills,” you loved the way they made your lips numb with sugar and you loved the sickly sweet taste of them.

Remus snorted out a laugh as he grabbed a huge assortment of chocolate bars, “I bet that you’re one of those people who snack on them in class,” his voice was distracted but he looked at you with sparkling hazel eyes.

Grinning at him, you nodded as you picked out some sweets for Lyra, “I am one of those people, I especially like eating them in Potions. Slughorn definitely knows but turns a blind eye which I’ll be forever grateful for.”

Something flickered in Remus’ eyes, something that looked like hope with just a dash of longing, it was gone as quickly as it had come so you must have been imagining it, “you eat them in Potions class?”

You raised an eyebrow at him as you nodded, you weren’t sure why that part was so important to him, “yeah but I’m sure lots of other people do too.”

“Of course,” Remus sighed, looking a little disappointed but you just couldn’t understand why, “are you ready to go?” he asked and you nodded without speaking a word and the both of you went to buy your sweets.

There was still some time before you had to meet the others so you went to the post office, you wanted to look at the different array of owls and you marvelled at the miniscule owls and you had to send some post. Your grandmother had always been very supportive of your art and she had always wanted you to send her some of the drawings you had done. Today you were finally granting her wish.

All the way through your time at the post office, Remus was silent and it seemed like the whole mood had changed. You were worried that you had done something wrong, “Remus, are you okay? Have I done something to upset you?”

Remus looked over at you with alarm plain on his face, he smiled warmly at you and you almost felt better and he reached down to squeeze your hand gently, “of course you didn’t Y/N. I’m fine, just in a bit of a weird mood, it’s nothing that you’ve done, I promise,” you nodded but couldn’t help feeling he was only saying this to ease your worry but you were sure that you had done something.

---------------------------

It had been one hell of an evening for Remus because James and Sirius had been arguing all night over a prank that had gone wrong and landed them in detention. They didn’t normally argue but when they did, it was really bad and everyone seemed to suffer as a result. As a result of their arguing, Lily and Alice went up to the dormitory to spend the rest of their evening up there. Remus had soon started to get tired of their endless fighting so he went for a walk around the castle.

The velvety night sky was so clear that Remus could see the stars for miles so he decided to go where he could see them better. When he walked up to the Astronomy Tower, he found that he wouldn’t be alone.

Y/N was standing against the railings with a sketchbook and she turned around when she heard Remus coming and she smiled at him. She was beautifully gleaming in the starlight.“Hi Remus,” she smiled as she put the tip of a Sugar Quill into her mouth.

Remus gulped and watched the movement of her lips with flushed cheeks, “sorry to bother you Y/N, can I join you?”

Y/N grinned, “you’re not bothering me at all! Of course you can join me. What brings you here?” she asked as she went back to her sketchbook.

Remus huffed out a sigh as he sat on the steps, running a hand through his hair, “James and Sirius are arguing and it’s complete hell, they manage to make everyone suffer. What are you doing up here, did you just come up here to draw?”

“Oh Merlin, aren’t they awful when they argue? They got into a really bad argument when Sirius first moved in with James so he had to come and stay with me for a little while. And yeah, I just thought that I could use the practice and Lucius is on his shit again,” she sighed and Remus could hear the sadness in her voice.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he said biting his lip.

Y/N shrugged as she shot a smile over her shoulder at him, “it’s really no big deal, thank you though.”

Remus nodded and they fell into a comfortable silence as Y/N drew and Remus caught up with the book he was reading. It felt really nice to know that they could spend time together but do their own thing. After a little while, Y/N shut her sketchbook and Remus closed his book as he followed suit.

For a good amount of time Y/N and Remus sat around the Astronomy Tower watching the stars and pointing out all the different constellations as they munched on Sugar Quills.

Remus looked over at Y/N as she looked up at the sky with wonder and joy on her face and all he wanted to do was lean over and kiss her but he thought that that would probably scare her off, and he really didn’t want to do that.

His heart jumped in his chest as Y/N let out a contented sigh as she rested her head against his shoulder and Remus wrapped an arm around their shoulders as they watched the stars together. Is this what it would feel like to be hers? If so, then he wanted to be with her even more.

As it got later, the clouds covered the stars and the magical spell that had been cast over the teenagers seemed to shatter as Y/N sat up, her fingers pulling through her hair with a nervous look on her face, “it’s getting late. Maybe we should head back before we get into trouble, I really don’t fancy getting detention,” Y/N smiled.

Remus nodded, feeling a little deflated and disappointed, he wished that he could spend more time with her, “I’ll walk you back to your common room.”

“Thanks Remus,” she beamed at him.

As they walked through the moonlit corridors they managed to avoid Peeves and Filch’s cat Mrs Norris, “Merlin, that cat is so annoying,” Remus almost growled and Y/N laughed as she nodded in agreement.

Too soon, they were outside the Ravenclaw common room and Remus swallowed as Y/N looked up at him beneath her eyelashes, “thanks for walking me back Remus, I really appreciate it. I really enjoyed spending the night with you. Maybe we could study together sometime this week?”

Remus smiled and jumped at the chance to spend more time with her, “you’re welcome, I had a good time too and of course, I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

Y/N beamed as she gave Remus a tight hug before she kissed him on the cheek, “night Remus,” she waved at him as she disappeared into the common room.

“Goodnight Y/N,” Remus muttered though he knew that she couldn’t hear him as his fingers ran over the place she had kissed him.

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[realcube]

Shifting // Hinata x Reader

summary: hinata learns about this thing called ‘shifting realities’ so he tries do use the Alice in Wonderland method to meet his anime gf - (Y/N) (L/N).

tw// cussing, sex references, shifting 

Hinata sighed, hopping off of his bed and shuffled over to the middle of this room, lying down on the only clear part room that wasn't filled with (Y/N) - from '(Y/N)'s Quick Fame' - memorabilia.  "This is so stupid." He murmured - phone in hand, he relaxed on the warm floor, exhaling through his nose and letting the weight on his shoulders slowly melt away. 

He lightly tapped the unpause button on his phone for the subliminal the chose to start playing again, after that he simply let go of any stress in his body - as the recalled the instructions telling him to do - his breath hitching upon hearing the light thump of his phone hitting the ground. As the subliminal rung in his ears, stimulating his ear, his eyelids began to feel heavy so he allowed them to fall, plunging him into darkness. 

Now that he felt fully at ease with his breathing and body, the next step came naturally to him; in his head head he repeated, "I am in my desired reality. I am with (Y/N)." He continued to repeat this step until he felt himself become lighter, as if some force above him was trying to suck his soul out of his body. 

He didn't even need to consciously decide that he was going to move on to the following step because next thing he knew, he was chilling under a luscious, tall tree during summer time, in an endless, gorgeously-green field. His phone was in his hand but when he glanced down to look at the screen, it didn't seem like he was currently doing anything on it other than admiring his lock screen - which was a picture of (Y/N) in her school outfit, of course.

His was just about to input his password and scroll through Instagram or something, but he clearly wasn't quick enough about it because before he even got the chance, a familiar figure zoomed by the tree, instantly catching Hinata's eye as the girl let out a distinct giggle that he was able to recognise in his sleep. "(Y/N)!" He chirped, the relaxation leaving his body and hastily being replaced by adrenaline as he hopped to his feet to chase after you, "Come back!" 

You simply kept running, unable to stifle the giggles in reaction to Hinata's adorable response to seeing you. Playfully, you looked over you shoulder and stuck your tongue out at the boy who seemed to be gaining on you at a rapid pace, "Catch me if you can, Shoyo~" You teased in your signature sing-songy tone.

Hinata felt an odd sensation around him, as if he was slipping - but his feet were still gracefully planting on the ground as he bolted after you. However, he ignored this feeling for now as his main focus was on catching you..until he realised, "Wait- how do you know my name?-"

He barely finished his sentence before he watched you plummet down a hole in the ground that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. He was ready to bawl his eyes out at sight, until he heard your sweet laugher echo through the hole and out the top; "Follow me, Shoyo!"

Hinata blinked rapidly as he stared into the hole which simply seemed like an endless abyss to him, was he seriously just gonna freefall into god-knows-what just to follow you? HELL YEAH! He dolphin dived straight into that bitch and did fucking summersaults and shit on his way down, he was ecstatic to meet you and he wasn't about to let a bitch-ass hole get in his way.

However, he started to slightly regret his decision when he realised that he had been falling for an abnormal amount of time - he didn't have a watch on or anything but if he had to guess, he'd been falling for like a minute straight. At first it was fun but now it was just getting weird. Yes, he's a virgin so he doesn't have an excessive amount of experience with hole but he was like 90% sure that this wasn't normal.

Just as that thought occurred to him though, he felt his side thump against the hardwood floor of the room he just landed in - again, not an expert on holes - but he was shocked that he managed to fall from such a distance and not even sustain a bruise! He almost got blunt trauma from Kageyama 'mistaking' his head as a ball so this was quite impressive for him. 

His sense of pride was short-lived though as it was soon replaced by confusion as he took a moment to actually get up and look around the room he was currently standing in - it was all white, except for the floor which was the same oak colour as the floor in his room. And the only things in the room, other than himself, was a small white table with a bold, black key on it - and not a normal house key either, like one of those keys from the cartoons with only three bits and no key wards. 

Oh, and the door. How could I forget the door? The absolutely colossal fuckin' gothic door that was on the wall opposite Hinata and was like 3 times bigger than the tangerine himself. 

Hinata took a moment to look around the room to make sure this wasn't a trap, he was desperate to see you though so he only took like 3 seconds analysing the rest of the boring room before taking the key and plugging it into the exuberant door, twisting it 3 times anti-clockwise before he heard a click and the door swung upon, almost taking Hinata with it. 

A bright light shone through the  other side of the door, making Hinata immediately squint and hiss in reaction. Then, he heard a familiar voice snicker in front of him, "Hi, Shoyo~" You greeted the boy, cocking your head to the side slightly as you patiently waited for him to retract his hands so you could get a good look at his face for the first time - well, the first time while you were both in the same reality. 

He moved his hands away from his face and as soon as he realised who was standing in front of him, he was unable to contain his excitement and he basically threw himself into your arms, "(Y/N)!" He exclaimed, his voice cracking out of sheer joy. "Is it really you?- I mean- you feel really but, uh.." he was at a loss for words as he was sure that it was you who he was holding in his arms right now, but he wanted to know it was..you you.

A light pink blush tickled the tips of your ears at his sudden act of affection - did he really like you that much? I mean, you loved him too but his reaction was so authentic and it really seemed like he was ready to burst into tears any second now. "Um, yeah, it's really me." His head was buried deep into your neck but it was clear by your voice that you were smiling. Grabbing both his shoulder, you pushed him back so you could see his face and make direct eye-contact with him.

Okay, now that you could see your reflection in his stunning eyes that you longed to meet for so long, so began to understand why he was so emotional about this - in fact, you kinda felt your own eyes start to gloss over as well. Your breath escaped you but you still managed to croak out a, "I-Is that really you, Hinata?" 

He nodded rapidly, a few of his crystal tears flying off his chin in the process - "I've.." he stammered, inhaling sharply as he felt himself become faint from a lack of breath. "I've always want to meet you, (Y/N). Look! I even-" he felt up is pockets in search of his phone to show you his lock screen but then it hit him like a truck - he had dropped his phone at the tree when he was chasing you! And obviously, he didn't stop to pick it up. No regret tbh but he did mutter a faint 'shit' under his breath.

You ignored the last part, choosing to focus on the fact that he was finally here with you  - however, you knew you couldn't be too happy just yet. He had to carry out the final step before he could complete the shifting process, so you stepped aside and led him over to his bed that stood at the right-hand side of his room; just like it did in real life! In fact, the room you had led him into was just an exact replica of his own room..kinda embarrassing since it had your face decorated all over it but oh well. "Please lie down." You requested.

He obeyed, plopping himself down on the bed and cuddling up to his (Y/N) body pillow just like he always did when he first gets into bed. "Alright." He chirped, closing his eyes while trying to wipe away the foolishly large grin that was plastered on to his face. "This is the part where I fall asleep, right?" 

You nodded, a sweet smile gracing your lips as you crouched down beside his bed, stroking his arm and sending him a reassuring look. "Yes, you are correct." You couldn't help but giggle at how robotic you sounded, "If it helps, I could sing you a song. A lullaby~?"

Hinata blushed at the offer but he knew fine well that if you did that he'd have a wet dream and probably ruin the shift. Obviously, he wasn't going to admit that though so he made up the best excuse that he could. "No thanks, (Y/N). I sleep better in silence." 

You hummed understandingly, getting back onto your feet before you advanced towards the door, looking over your shoulder to admire how peaceful the tangerine looked on his bed. "Well, if that's the case, It'd be better if I left for now." You explained, halting in your tracks once you reached the door. "Don't worry, though, I'll be right by your side when you wake up. Sleep tight, Shoyo." You cooed, exiting the room and gently closing the door behind you, leaving Hinata in the silence he requested.

_____________________

Hinata woke up feeling groggy as usual, but that quickly faded as he heard a melodious sound from above him. Without wasting another second, his eyes shot open and met with your soft, (e/c) ones above him. You shot him a sweet smile as you stopped singing to greet him, "Good morning, Hinata. You slept like a baby!" You'd been waiting to make that comment ever since he hit REM sleep because you couldn't but admire how deep of a sleeper he was. "I mean, I carried you from your room all the way here and you didn't even show any signs of being awake."

Hinata rubbed his eyes to properly inspect what was going on - clearly, you were above where his head rested which was..ON YOUR THIGHS!?..You thought his head was gonna shoot up? Hell no. He's waited way too long for this. Yes, his eyes did widen and his cheeks did flush at the realisation but like hell was he going to move his head, he was staying put right where he was, thank you very much. 

Anyway, he glanced down to see what his legs were resting on and he concluded that y'all were on the couch while..pancakes were cooking? The sweet scent of the treat filled his nostrils and almost made him salivate - or maybe that was to do with the lap thing, wasn't too sure - but he was starving so of course he had to point it out in hopes that you'd offer him some. "What's that smell?" He took in a large whiff on the syrupy scent, involuntarily making his eyes roll back in his head in pleasure, "Are those pancakes?!"

You giggled, your eyes staying glued to his hair that you were currently playing with and putting into little ponytails. "Yep. I made them just for you." You placed a kiss on his forehead before removing your hands from his soft, ginger hair, having finished putting in the hair-ties. "C'mon, let's eat."

Hinata nodded enthusiastically, excited to try the food you had made for him but also missing the feeling of you thighs press against the back of his neck and you finger gently caressing his scalp as he sat up to follow you to where ever the treats were. "Really?!" He exclaimed, hot on your trails as you turned to enter the oh-so familiar dining room that he had already seen in multiple pages of this '(Y/N)'s Quick Fame' mangas. And there, on the dining table was a huge stack of at least 7 pancakes, covered in glorious, dripping syrup, fork and knife at either side, ready for him to dig in. 

So that's exactly what he did. He rushed over to the table, fell back into the chair in front of the pancakes and tucked in - he was way too hungry to hesitate.

A smile tickled the tips of lips as you strolled over to the table, taking the seat opposite Hinata and quickly got lost in a trance, watching Hinata's charming little face as he gobbled down the pancakes at an ungodly pace. "I- Slow down, Hinata!" You whined, waving your hand in front of his face in order to grab his attention, "I don't want you choking before our first.." your voice trailed off, thinking of what would be appropriate thing to say in this situation while Hinata stared at you with hopeful eyes. "...our first kiss!" 

Hinata laughed, a few chunks of pancake flying out his mouth like a fountain in process before he went back to scoffing up the delectable pancakes sat in front of him. In the blink of an eye, he sat his fork and knife down with a lil' clink which went along cutely with the faint ah that escaped his lips, as he laid back in his chair, placing a hand on his full stomach - a cheesy grin on his face, "I'm stuffed. That was delicious, thank you so much." He would've yelled that but his sugar-coated throat didn't allow him to do so. "You're the best, (Y/N) - I should've shifted earlier."

You hummed in agreement, patting your thighs as an indication that you wanted him to come sit on your lap, "Yeah, that would've been nice - honestly, this sounds pretty lame but I've been praying to meet you for ages, Hinata." You croaked, to shy to make eye-contact hence your gaze dropped to your feet.

Hinata's throat went dry, his mouth slightly agape as he tried to process what you just said because surely he must be hearing you wrong. "Seriously?!" He almost squealed, jumping to his feet and sprinting over to your side of the table, promptly taking a seat next to you, copying the motion that you did to show that he wanted you to sit on his lap.

Obliging, you shuffled off your chair to nuzzle your rear nicely in between his crotch area and his stomach, reaching up to  ruffled his perfectly-done hair, "Yeah, of course. I've-" You paused, not really sure if you wanted to admit the follow but upon remembering that Hinata's room was literally filled to the brim with your face, you figured that it couldn't be too bad embarrassing to say; "I've..got a shirt with your number on it, especially for you." You lowered your voice, scared that Hinata would find it creepy but once you finally built up the courage to look back at him, you saw the massive smile and light blush that dusted his cheeks.

"That's adorable, (Y/N)!" Hinata chuckled, snaking his arms around your waist and giving you a brief squeeze, burying his nose into you the crook of your neck, unable to fight the urge to leave a little nibble on it. "Now I don't have to give you my shirts - I mean, I would if you want me to."

You crinkled your nose in delight and surprise at his reaction which was oddly positive, "Awh, yeah, I guess." You mumbled, feeling your eyes getting heavy so you spun around so that you were now straddling Hinata, as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Sorry, Hinata." You yawned, "I just- I'm so tired."

Hinata nodded, thinking that you looked gorgeous even when you were tired but it was had for him to prevent a blush creeping onto his face as he felt his bulge rub against your clothed crotch, "I get it. Fall asleep in my arms~" he joked, absent tracing circles up and down your back. 

You hummed in agreement while your face was buried in his neck, the vibrations from that rushing down his spine and making a certain area twitch. "Yeah, and when I wake up, we'll go on an adventure. How does that sound?" You inquired, already half-sleep.

"Perfect."

[iheartgarrus]

Question about sleep cycles: is it normal to have dreams like immediately after falling asleep? I thought REM came later, but twice now in recent days I’ve woken up from nightmares like 15-20 minutes in.