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hannie-dul-set · 5 months

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the psychology of strawberries — [s.qr].

SYNOPSIS. besides being your friend, kim gyuvin also holds the existence of being the worst matchmaker in history. the last guy he set you up with ended with a permanent ban from the arcade. the one before that caused you to file a restraining order. which is why when he tries to set you up one last time with his best friend, you understandably shut him down.

the problem is— why the fuck didn’t gyuvin tell you that his best friend is actually the prettiest man in the world? the most charming idiot to have graced your mortal existence? maybe if he did, you wouldn’t have to resort to pavlovian tactics and strawberries just to bag him. if he did, then you wouldn’t have to hide the fact that you’re kind of balls-deep in love with his friend.

PAIRING. shen quanrui x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, (anti) matchmaking! au, strangers to friends to lovers, eventual secret relationship. romance, humor, fluff, suggestive, older! reader, this is just lovelicky propaganda. sue me. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, mentions of sex, making out, making out in public, an almost car crash, stalking (not from any of the leads), erratic behavior (mostly from our lead), ricky in a floral shirt, black haired ricky and bathrobe ricky jumpscare. WORD COUNT. 21k.

TAGLIST. @lovialy @sarang-ae @khaelscafe @jenodreamer @lovelyrickyz @ciaoui @spjhyn @chwesuh-imnida @kgneptun @hanstarrs @dvalitaes @younxii @haesunflower @cyberpunksunwoo @tlnyjoong @bobabunhee @elavin @sassybakaaa @wishfulthnking @lvieee

NOTE. there is evident lack of plot in this. unless you consider thirsting over ricky as plot, then there’s a lot of plot. you’re welcome. feedback and comments are always appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

AT SOME POINT IN YOUR LIFE, THE PROSPECT OF MEETING A NEW GUY STOPPED BEING A POINT OF INTEREST OR ANTICIPATION. It has now become a harbinger of horror, an inevitable car crash simply lying in wait. Gone are the days where you’re looking forward to the first kiss on your porch and doorstep— now, you don’t even care if you share the same hobbies or not, if you click well or not, neither if your personalities match or not.

Your only hope is that they don’t end up being a stalker or a slob or someone with severe anger issues. And there’s only one culprit for this seemingly permanent shift in your psychology.

“I’m not going on another date! At least one that you’re setting up.”

“C’mon!” Gyuvin clings onto your arm, preventing you from leaving the classroom. He’s crouching on the floor. Your face crunches up, looking down at him like he’s a piece of gum stuck on your boot sole. “This will be the last time. Please? I showed him a picture of you and he thinks you’re cute.”

The sole reason why Kim Gyuvin can get away with anchoring you by the arm with his entire body weight, why he can get away with setting you up with douchebag after douchebag, is because he’s a family friend, and you’ve known him for eight whole years. These tantrums are normal, but the sudden growth spurt he had in ninth grade makes him occasionally forget that you’re still two years older than him. You were already walking before he was even born. This bitch thinks he can make you do what he wants.

“Get off! Are you trying to dislocate my shoulder?”

The moment you raise your free arm to a fist, he releases you from his clutches and puts his arms up innocently, still crouched on the floor. You click your tongue with a sneer, brushing down your sleeve. Anyway, does he have amnesia? Has he forgotten how the last blind dates went?

“Your friend Jaeryeong also thought I was cute,” you start. “Really cute, in fact. To the point where he wouldn’t leave me alone and I had to file a restraining order against him.”

Now, he’s finally looking guilty. Gyuvin clear his throat and jumps back up to his feet, straightening his clothes and not daring to look you in the eye. “He—he had some issues that I wasn’t aware of and I’m sorry for that— but Ricky is different! He’s not some weirdo! I promise you that he’s a good guy and he’s good looking and—”

“You said the same thing about Do Hajun,” you cut him off. “Sure, he was pretty good looking, but he got so mad at a claw machine and started assaulting it in public. I got banned at the Game Plaza, Gyuvin. I’m not allowed there anymore. I was the top scorer at DDR there. I can’t maintain my rank there anymore because the last guy you set me up with had problems with his temper.”

He looks even more guilty now. Your glare softens because it’s not entirely his fault. But this time the guy’s name is Ricky. That sounds like a fuckboy’s name. A fuckboy who probably wears snapbacks and jeans a little too low. You’re not taking any fucking chances.

“Okay,” Gyuvin breathes out. “I understand that I may have made some bad matches—”

“Some.”

“A lot of bad matches,” he corrects, sheepish. “But that’s just because so many people want to date you! If you think about it, it’s your fault for always attracting weirdos! I’m just the connecting bridge and messenger! I’m sick and tired of my friends asking me to set you up with them too!”

“So why the hell are you trying to do it again?!” Man, you’re getting tired. You asked him to meet you in your lecture hall after class because you wanted to check up on his project, but the moment he came in, he tried throwing you into the sharks once again in an instant.

You dig into your bag for a piece of candy, unwrapping it and popping it into your mouth with an unamused expression as Gyuvin tries his damn best to market his friend to you. “This will be the last one, I promise! Ricky is my best friend and I can assure you that he’s a decent guy. He’s hot. He’s got a car. Didn’t you say before that you wanted a hot boyfriend with a car?”

“If he’s so hot then why are you so desperately trying to sell him off?”

You weren’t born yesterday. Hell, you were born earlier than this matchmaking scammer and he regularly forgets about that. “Well,” he starts, clearing his throat. “He’s my best friend, but I need my solo time too! If he gets a girlfriend, then maybe he’ll stop showing up at my apartment every Friday night and—”

“That’s enough.”

You stuff a piece of candy into his mouth, promptly shutting him up. His eyes are wide, shock quickly morphing into a grimace when the flavor finally kicks in. Durian. Serves him fucking right.

“Go set your friend up with someone else. I called you in here for a different reason, Kim Gyuvin.” Nothing like dropping his full name and reminding him that you’re still his upperclassman as a cold splash of water to the face. Gyuvin flinches, suddenly straightening himself. “How’s your project going? You only have two months left to finish it. I hope you didn’t forget.”

His face tells you that he forgot about it, but not totally. He’s reluctantly chewing on the candy you force-fed him. “I’ve— I’ve already picked out a place. Hadong Country in Gyeongsang. I’m planning on going there next week.”

“Alright, good.” You leave him with a pat on the shoulder. “Tell me once you’ve set the date. You should worry about your term paper instead of mine or your friend’s love life. Getting us to date won’t pull up your GPA, Gyuvin.”

“But—”

“No, that’s enough,” you shut him down. “I’m not dating this Ricky guy. That’s final. Nothing you can do or say will change my mind.”

Famous last words. Little did you know that you’d be eating that very statement by the weekend.

ONE OF THE PRIVILEGES YOU’VE GOTTEN FROM SUCKING UP TO YOUR PROFESSORS SINCE FRESHMAN YEAR IS HAVING FULL LIBERTY OF USING THEIR OFFICE AS A HANG-OUT SPOT. The air-conditioning here is better than the classrooms or students lounge. You can even raid their snack pantry as much as you want— grabbing a handful from the candy bowl, now filled with pink wrappers of some strawberry hard candy— and stuffing them into the small pocket of your bag to restock your portable stash.

“Does Prof Yoon know you’re the one that keeps vacuuming his candy bowl?”

The question comes from Hanbin, who’s just as shamelessly making himself a cup of coffee with the faculty’s machine. The both of you are regular freeloaders at the office. A well-earned privilege, you’d like to say.

“He knows,” you reply, snatching a box of pepero for good measure. “He lets me get away with it because I’m his favorite student.”

There’s one more freeloader. Hao is sitting on the cushy sofa set funded by the student’s tuition fees, sharing a conversation with Mrs. Lee, and the two of you join him not long after. “You three are supervising some of the freshmen this year, right?” your professor asks, and her question is met with a set of artificial positive responses. “I guess I can look forward to some of their outputs then,” she leaves with a hearty laugh and a hard pat on Hao’s back. You wince.

“Why is an old lady so strong?” he laments once Mrs. Lee is sure to have returned to her cubicle. Hanbin is feeling and probing around his spine in case it got broken.

“I hear she’s a member at the gym Jiwoong goes to,” you say. “Scary woman. Thank god we’re on her good side.”

Complaining about your professors in hushed voices while being in their office is a rare skill the three of you have mastered over the past two years. The two elicit murmurs of agreement with your statement. “Speaking, how are your kids doing?” asks Hanbin. Kids, referring to the eighteen to nineteen year olds under your care for their term project.

Hao takes your pepero stick offer before grumbling. “I don’t get why we have to supervise the freshmen when he have our own assignments and projects to deal with.”

“Because Mrs. Lee will give us extra points for our class with her if we do,” you remind. “Gyuvin is doing the bare minimum. At least he now has a location settled down.” The project is for their required course in community development. The freshmen are tasked to select a rural area in the country and do a needs-based assessment survey on it. You did the same when you were in your first year. Mrs. Lee is also the head of the university extensions office. You three have theorized that she’s just using this annual assignment to update her data inventory.

“Gunwook is too passionate. He wants to go all the way to freaking Mokpo.”

“At least he sounds hardworking,” you say, disregarding Hanbin’s stress over an inevitable five-hour drive. “Why can’t Gyuvin be the same? All he does is set me up with terrible men and barge into my family dinners.”

You say that, but everyone who knows you knows that Kim Gyuvin, despite being generally annoying, has burrowed a soft spot in your heart. Unlike Hanbin and Hao who missed a 40-point quiz for Mrs. Lee’s class to join a random play dance competition at the plaza (they won), you didn’t really need the extra points merit, so you had no intentions on volunteering to be a supervisor in the first place.

But when you caught whiff of the news that your poor, poor younger friend of eight years still didn’t have a senior-supervisor for the project, you somehow found yourself in front of Mrs. Lee’s office cubicle and signed up at the last moment.

Which is also why you’re up at 5 a.m. in front of Gyuvin’s apartment building on a weekend, no breakfast in the stomach, just to accompany him to Gyeongsang for this god forsaken community development project.

“Morning.”

Gyuvin greets you with a yawn and a heavy ruffle on the top of your head, to which you respond with a side kick to his ass when he walks past you. “You’re late,” you scold him, and though you want to continue berating your dear friend, two more familiar-looking people emerge from his building’s entrance.

“Oh, this is Taerae and Matthew,” Gyuvin informs you offhandedly. The two give you a mix of polite nods and smiles. You sort of know Taerae because you shared a class with him last semester. Matthew is just the guy you see at the campus coffee shop at least once a week. “They’re going to be my survey assistants. More people means more ground to cover at once.”

“How’d he scam you two into agreeing?” you ask.

“He’s buying me lunch for a week,” Taerae replies.

“I just wanted to go on a road trip,” Mathew says in a tone too bright for five in the morning.

You let out a huff of air. Your backpack is getting a little heavy on your shoulders, and all you want is to finally reclaim your lost weekend. Meaning, getting on the road as soon as possibly is priority number one. “So, are we commuting?” you ask. “We should get going then.”

“Oh, no,” Gyuvin replies. He’s already noticed your impatience, and has found himself standing behind you, taking your bag off of your bag so that you don’t snap at him for the next statement he’s about to say. “Actually, we’re waiting for one more per—”

A car horn cuts him off.

“Well, nevermind. He’s here.”

At that moment, a way too expensive looking car drives up to the porch of Gyuvin’s college-level priced apartment building. This is looking way too out of place. Matthew lets out a whistle when the car stops in front of you. “This kid just got his license exchange and the first thing he does is show off,” Taerae snorts. What...what does he mean? Is this your ride? Is this the (at least seventy-thousand-dollar) vehicle that’ll be driving you all the way to the outskirts of Hadong County?

The variables don’t click, but your surprise doesn’t end there. Because the person that emerges from the expensive looking ass car’s driver’s seat is— by far— the prettiest person you’ve ever seen in your twenty-one years of life.

Whoa.

Not even those thick, dark shades can obscure that god-sculpted looking face. They only make his nose bridge look even sharper, and you’re trying your damn best not to stare at those full and cherry-painted lips. Holy shit. Platinum blonde has always looked tacky to you, but now you have to re-evaluate. Oh my god. Kim Gyuvin has a friend that looks like this, and all he’s done is set you up with guys that can’t even fucking compare.

Walking statue of a man closes the car door behind him with a click. “Get in,” he says. Holy mother of god, you’re light-headed. Your brain is fuzzy. You’re about to pass out.

“Ricky! You’re late! How dare you keep the madam waiting?!”

Things start happening a little too quickly.

Wait a second—

“Shotgun!”

That name.

“Fuck off! Let’s play for the seat!”

Sounds Very.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot! Rock, paper, scissors—”

Very—

“Paper, scissors— shoot!”

—familiar.

“Dammit,” Matthew grumbles in defeat, joining Taerae in the backseat. You stare at the fist you have held out since earlier. Rock. Rick. Ricky. This guy’s name is Ricky. Isn’t that also the name of Gyuvin’s best friend? The best friend he was trying to set you up with? This is Ricky? This absolute god of a fucking man who’s looking at you with an ounce of confusion, still holding your fist up after somehow winning all rounds of rock, paper, scissors with nothing but a rock, is the Ricky you turned down a date with?

You were correct to assume that his name gives off fuckboy vibes. The problem is, he looks like a really, really hot fuckboy who you don’t mind ruining your life in exchange for three months of fun. Shit. You think you just made eye contact with him through his thick-ass sunglasses. He nods a little with a small, awkward smile before disappearing back into the driver’s seat.

Fuck. He knows. He definitely knows you wrongfully rejected his ass without even meeting him. Gyuvin, that snitching son of a bitch.

“Hey.”

With a heavy grip on his shoulder, you stop the said snitching son of a bitch before he can escape into the backseat. “What?” Gyuvin raises a brow. The audacity of this guy.

“What was your best friend’s name again?”

“Ricky Shen. Shen Quanrui. Shim Cheonye. Pick one.”

“Is that...the same…?”

“Yes, that guy is Ricky.” There’s an impatient honk from the car. You pay no mind, more concerned about the absolute fucking catch you totally drove away, and that regret is seeping through you expression, failing to wiggle out from Gyuvin’s notice. “Why do you ask?” Are you regretting turning down my offer last week? his face seems to say. You want to hit him. Yes, you are fucking regretting it, but there’s no way in hell you’re giving him the satisfaction of knowing.

“It’s just a little awkward,” you say. “Can you switch with me?”

“Matt hyung’s gonna throw a fit if I take your seat,” he simply hums, opening the door to the front seat on your behalf with a courteous bow that drives you further into annoyance. “Now hop in. We’re already behind schedule.”

You’re the bigger person here so you decide against throwing a tantrum. Begrudgingly, you enter the passenger’s seat, trying to ignore aphrodite’s reincarnation sitting right next to you, and prepare yourself for the three-hour drive or torture because you totally screwed over your chance of having him.

“Woohoo! Road trip!”

“We’re here for my project, idiot.”

“Please tone it down, I’m trying to sleep.”

It’s fine, you cross your arms, wiggling uncomfortably on the soft seat. It’s totally fine. None of Gyuvin’s friends have been decent so far. Yes. You shouldn’t judge positively too quickly. Maybe the only thing this one has going for him is his face. Maybe his personality is just as shitty as the last ones and you’ve completely dodged a bullet.

A very pretty bullet. The pretty bullet is looking at you through the rearview mirror. Oh god, why is he looking at you? He’s got his sunglasses down and those eyes are practically staring into your soul.

“Um,” Ricky clears his throat. “You should put on your seatbelt.”

That rasp shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. Fuck. This man is a walking heart hazard. “O—oh, sorry!” You’re stupid. Your brain is fried. You fumble with the dumb seatbelt, forgetting how it works, and mentally swearing at yourself in the process.

“Do you need any help…?”

Fight or flight instincts kick in. You smack away Ricky’s attempt at a helping hand. His eyes are wide in shock. Your eyes are wide in shock. You want to throw yourself out of this vehicle right now. “It’s—it’s fine!” Finally, you manage to put on the seatbelt. Ricky is a mix of confusion and offense when he starts the car, more on confusion, but that’s alright. The aftermath of him pulling a k-drama move and helping you with the seatbelt would have been worse. You would have disintegrated right then and there.

Your only source of comfort is the backpack that you’re hugging for your dear life. The entire ride is excruciatingly awkward because the three boys at the back have fallen asleep— a state you also wish to be in right now, but that’s quite frankly impossible because you’re a million times more conscious about your physical appearance right now with a literal angel next to you.

He’s not asking why you’re pressed so far up against the door. For safety reasons, you tell yourself. The air around him just subconsciously feels a lot hotter despite the air conditioning literally blowing cold air to your face.

“Would...would you like some?”

But that doesn’t mean you could stomach this awkwardness, either. Two hours have passed and neither of you have said a word to each other. You’re a fistful into your candy stash and it feels rude not to offer anything to him when he’s been driving for so long.

You have a cautious arm outstretched, a pink wrapper dangling between your thumb and index finger. Ricky peers down for a split second, a rumble from his throat before saying, “N—no, it’s okay.” The candy disappears into the crevices of his car. You dip your head down, trying to feel around for it, and Ricky continues talking. “Um. I mean. You don’t really have to force yourself to get along with me, seonbae. I already know that you don’t really like me.”

At that moment, you snap your head up. “What?”

Maybe you should’ve been more careful because you scare the shit out of Ricky and the car swerves off the lane.

Screech!

“Ah,” he exhales, parking the car at the edge of the road after nearly killing you all. “That was close.” How the three kids in the back are still asleep is beyond you. They’ve got their necks twisted in all the weird places and you’re pretty sure Matthew is drooling.

But the source of your adrenaline right now isn’t the near death experience.

“What do you mean you know that I don’t like you?”

Translation: what exactly did Kim Gyuvin say to this guy?

“You...turned down the blind date Gyu tried setting up,” he says. Well that’s because Gyuvin never showed you a picture of his face! Instead of using useless words to try and convince you to say yes, he should’ve just sent you his instagram and called it a day. “This car ride must be awkward for you, sorry. I’ll try to get to Hadong as soon as possible.”

He’s sweet and polite too! God, you’ve completely screwed it over. You spend the rest of the car ride overthinking and feeling sorry for yourself. The moment you arrive at your destination, you eject yourself from the car instantaneously. “Alright, we’re wasting daylight. Let’s get moving!” you clasp your hands together, hurrying your barely-awake lackeys into the town.

With five people, the surveys and interviews get done quicker than expected. At one point, while you were surveying a marketplace owner, your attention got inadvertently distracted by spotting Ricky from the corner of your eye helping out an old lady with a cart and you nearly had a meltdown. Again, why didn’t Gyuvin introduce you to him before your impression of his friends got screwed over by Jaeryeong and Hajun and all the fucking rest?

“What a sweet boy,” says the marketplace owner. He is a sweet boy. That sweet and insanely handsome boy could’ve been yours (not guaranteed).

“Hey!” Gyuvin snaps you out of your daze. You look up, crouched underneath the shade of a tree. One of the locals was kind enough to give you a tour of their plum fields in the village, but you’re a little too rattled to actually appreciate the green scenery. “The ahjumma gave us some plums to taste!”

“You’re a bad person,” you suddenly say. Gyuvin’s face distorts in offense.

“Well, if you don’t want any plums, you can just say so, meanie.”

Maybe you are a meanie, but you’re still not over everything today. While the four boys are fucking around from a bit of a distance, you’re still crouched down and absentmindedly petting a stray cat and moping. Matthew says something you can’t hear, and the three burst out laughing— only the three at first, because Ricky looks lost for a second, blinking with a dumb smile, before joining their laughter only a beat late.

Oh no, he’s cute. Oh god, you’re falling. Oh man, you’re a goner.

“Time to go home!”

It’s around four in the afternoon when you finally finish. You’re all gathered around Ricky’s car again, ready for another grueling drive back to Seoul. “Go sit in the back. I’ll drive this time,” says Taerae to Ricky, and there starts another rock, paper, scissors battle for who will take the front seat.

Unlike earlier where you won without even realizing there was a game, you lose even after praying to all the gods you know.

“Nice!” Matthew cheers, not even giving you a shot of negotiation because he quickly disappears into the car. You’re looking at Gyuvin, painted in shock and disbelief. Before you know it, you’re wedged into the backseat, in between the two men you’d like to be around the least at the moment.

Yours and Ricky’s shoulders are touching. This is worse than earlier. He looks just as uncomfortable as you are— arms resting on the open windowsill, head uncomfortably craned away from you and giving you a full view of the tattoo trailing down his neck. Something snaps in your brain. This is your nth breakdown of the day.

“Let me in your candy stash.”

Gyuvin gives himself the liberty to zip open the front pocket of your backpack while you’re hugging it in your seat. The sound of you swatting his hand away seems to catch Ricky’s attention, so you give up defending your property and let Gyuvin snatch a handful of the strawberry-flavored sweets from your bag. “This tastes gross,” he says with a grimace. “So artificial. Blegh.”

You suddenly hear a gasp from your left. “How can you say that?” You’re shocked to find out it’s from Ricky. He’s been relatively quiet all this time. Gyuvin sure knows how to get into everyone’s nerves. “Take it back.”

“I’ll take it back if you dye your hair black for a day.”

A harmless fist zooms in front of your face. “Now way.” Ricky is hitting Gyuvin.

“Gross, this is so gross.” Gyuvin is hitting Ricky back.

“So what.”

“I’m telling your mom about this.”

Your existence is forgotten and your breathing space in between these two relatively large men has significantly diminished. Your face is burning. You can’t do this anymore so you clear your throat, causing Ricky— who’s leaned a little too close, fist in the air mid-punch— to suddenly tuck himself back into his side of the car.

It becomes quiet again when Matthew and Gyuvin slowly doze off to sleep.

Gaze flitting to the front, you notice that Taerae is quite preoccupied with swearing at another car that just overtook yours. You take this as an opportunity.

A slight nudge to his arm, you hold open your palm without looking at Ricky. It’s a handful of the strawberry flavored candy he was so staunchly defending against Gyuvin earlier. He might’ve rejected your offering earlier, but you’re damn bent on ending this day by fixing his impression of you, even if it’s just a miniscule improvement.

He’s got his head trained down, staring at your offering with a face laced with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and uncertainty before a hesitant hand plucks out a single wrapper from the pile. “Thank you,” you hear him say softly, and you don’t miss the tiniest smile playing on his lips when the sweet touches his tongue, poking against the inside of his cheek and you feel somewhat offended because a damn piece of candy can elicit such an expression on his face when you can’t.

It’s not stiff like the numerous bouts of awkward eye contact you’ve been sharing without end. It’s not forced. It’s not uncomfortable.

It’s an expression that makes you feel all the more regretful because you probably won’t be seeing him ever again after this.

“Did you see that guy?! He honked at me! He fucking honked at me!”

But maybe that’s a good thing. Because maybe then, you’ll be forced to stop lamenting the chance you completely wasted.

MAYBE YOU SPOKE TO SOON. It’s the afternoon of a Friday, not even a week after your one-day trip to Hadong County. And Fridays are your cheat days to take a dip into your allowance for some well deserved milk tea at a bougie cafe next to your university.

What isn’t part of your usual Wednesdays is the inexplicable, one in a million chance that you’d be bumping into Ricky Shen again.

“Oh.”

You’re about to enter. He’s just about to leave, pushing open the door with one hand and holding a bright pink drink with so much whipped cream which looks particularly out of place against his all-black ensemble. The only common denominator between the both of you is the look of surprise you’re both sharing.

Ricky recovers before you do. He steps aside, giving you space to walk in while holding the door open. How the bare minimum is making you weak in the knees, you have no idea. “Th—thanks,” you give him a smile and walk forward, before putting yourself to a stop and spinning around. “Oh, wait. Have this.”

You dig into your pockets and drop three pieces of strawberry candy onto his hand. You don’t miss the way his eyes sparkle. “Thanks. See you around.” He leaves. You feel like you’re on top of the world.

From now on, you’re gonna stuff all your pockets with strawberry-flavored candy (courtesy of Prof Yoon from the faculty office) until Ricky gets brainwashed that your presence doesn’t bear awkwardness or discomfort, no— you are a good person. Your presence brings with you strawberries and sweetness. That one psych class you took last semester is finally proving itself to be useful. Ricky will fall in love with you through Pavlov and classical conditioning.

Is this ethical? Probably not. Will this work? You don’t bet on it, but his cute smile makes it all fucking worth it.

That is if a miracle happens that you somehow end up seeing more of each other. You sigh, waiting for the buzzer to receive your order. You remember that Ricky is a freshman, meaning you have zero chances of sharing classes with him, and your only mutual friend is Kim Gyuvin. You’d rather kill yourself than give him the satisfaction of knowing that you have a crush on his best friend.

Well, there’s also Matthew and Taerae. After your trip to Hadong, you somehow got added to a group chat with the two of them. “Same age friends have to stick together!” says Matthew. You’re not sure if you’re already at the point of calling them friends, but you are having dinner with them later, so that’s something. But no matter how much you want to gush about your feelings for the light-haired boy, you don’t think you can out yourself to those two just yet.

The buzzer vibrates in your hands. You stand up to get your order, only to be stopped by a familiar face that you’re not quite happy to see.

“I—I didn’t follow you here, I swear!”

Your expression sours. That last time you saw him was approximately three months ago— when you threatened him with a fake restraining order after Gyuvin and Hanbin helped you move into a new apartment.

“Jaeryeong.” You feel your blood pressure rising from the mere utterance of his name. “Is a restraining order not enough for you? Do I have to put you in jail so you can finally learn your fucking lesson?”

He looks rattled. “I heard— I heard from Siyun that the document is fake!”

Well, damn. You click your tongue. You thought it’d work for a little while longer than this. Maybe you should get a real RO next time. “So does that give you the right to keep stalking me, you damn creep?” You’re getting a headache. This guy’s appearance just makes you miss Ricky even more (gentle remember that Ricky probably doesn’t give a shit about you, nor does he think about you as much as you’ve thought about him within the past six days of your acquaintance).

“I really didn’t follow you here! This was just a coincidence!”

“Sure,” you wrinkle your nose. “Was breaching my privacy and following me all the way to my parents’ place a coincidence too?”

Maybe riling him up is a bad idea, but you’re not exactly the best at interpersonal relationships (case in point, Riky Shen). But this is also a public place, so if he does pull anything dangerous, one of the cafe patrons is likely to take a video which you can use against him. Jaeryeong has his jaw clenched, visibly grated. “Look, I came up to you today to try and clear our misunderstanding, but if you keep on being a little bitch, then—”

“Then what?”

You’re surprised to hear a much welcomed voice from behind you.

“What are you gonna do?”

The last person you expected to swoop in and save you from this clingy freak is your senior who’s been out of reach for months now because he’s dying in post-grad.

Kim Jiwoong suddenly tucks you behind him, wearing the facade of intimidation to scare off Jaeryeong— which, for some reason, ends up working because he runs off without much of a fight. “I’ll— I’ll talk to you later!” he says before leaving. Jiwoong lets out a sigh and turns around, looking at you with both disappointment and concern.

“You shouldn’t provoke guys like that. Who knows what could’ve happened to you.”

“I could’ve handled it even without you, seonbae,” you tell him. His gaze softens. You give him a bright smile. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

You know that Jiwoong is incapable of getting mad at you. The both of you catch up in the cafe once you’ve finally gotten your drink without any further interruptions. Whatever Gyuvin is to you, that’s who you are to Jiwoong. He was your project supervisor when you were a freshman, randomly assigned by a roulette, and somehow, you two still keep in touch two years later.

The both of you settle on a table inside the cafe. “How are your classes?” he asks. You reply with a bitter grunt, and that’s enough of a response for him to laugh and understand.

“By the way,” you rouse, spinning the remnants of the drink in slow spirals. “Seonbae. You’re close with Gyuvin, right?”

If your memory serves you right, you’ve seen them talking a couple of times with each other before, eliciting your utter confusion before ultimately finding out that apparently, they attended the same local dance studio before along with Hanbin and Hao for a period of time. “Well, sure,” is Jiwoong’s reply. That was just the lead-in question to your actual main question, which is—

“How about...his best friend?” you add. “Are you close with him too?”

You can see it in his face. He’s connecting the dots. You’re fiddling with your drink cup, nervous. The moment things click, Jiwoong unleashes a knowing grin.

“Are you crushing on Ricky?”

Well, damn. He didn’t need to be so blunt about it.

“And—and—and what if I am?” Smooth. Very smooth. You clear your throat, tugging on your collar to let some air in while Jiwoong stirs his americano with the straw, chin resting on his palms, evident amusement playing on his face. “So, anyway. I’m taking that as a yes— you are close with him.”

“Sure,” he hums. You want to sock him in the face.

“Well, is he anything like Gyuvin’s other friends,” you question. “Like Jaeryeong, or Hajun, or that one guy that told me to ‘sit pretty and shut my mouth’ because that’s what a woman ought to do?”

“No, no. Ricky isn’t anything like that,” he replies. “He looks a little intimidating, but he’s a nice kid. I don’t even think I’ve ever heard him raise his voice at anyone.” Ricky does seem pretty soft spoken and it’s hurting your heart. This doesn’t go under Jiwoong’s radar. He laughs at your misery and your shoulders slack. “His only flaw is his overconfidence, I think. Next time you meet him, you should compliment his face.”

No, but confidence is attractive. Overconfidence must mean extra attractive, right? Yes? “Thanks for the tip,” you grunt. “But can you not tell Gyoob that I sort of have a thing for his friend?”

This brings Jiwoong’s brows to a furrow. “Isn’t he hell bent on marrying off Ricky?”

“Yes. Well. There was a situation.” You don’t intend on telling Jiwoong about the said situation for the sake of your pride. He looks curious, but thankfully he doesn’t try to prod. The only thing that matters right now is that Ricky is Jiwoong-approved, and that’s good enough of a reason for you to pursue him under Kim Gyuvin’s nose. “Anyway, please keep this a secret.”

“What’s in it for me?” he asks.

“The continuation of my respect,” you flatly reply. Jiwoong, again, laughs and assures you that his lips are shut and sealed.

SOMEHOW, YOU’RE INVITED TO A BARBECUE DINNER AT MATTHEW’S BACKYARD. How long have you known him? Two weeks. Who else is invited to the dinner? His friends of two years the least. You’re not sure how you ended up here. Maybe you’re more charming than you thought. Maybe that’s why you keep attracting weird men.

But Matthew isn’t weird. He’s a little loud and a little too energetic for you to keep up with sometimes, but he’s nice, he’s polite, and you’d introduce him to your cousin if he’d let you.

You show up to his front door step with a convenience store bag full of canned beer. You’re still not sure what the occasion is, but alcohol is always a good gift. “You made it!” Matthew greets you with a half-hug, and upon entering the premises of his home, you spot Gyuvin giving you an unabashed look full of judgment while Matt takes your present out of your hands and into the cooler in the backyard.

“Since when were you two so chummy?” Gyuvin asks with narrowed eyes as he leads you to where everyone else is.

“Scared I might replace you in your friend group, Gyu?” you taunt.

“No. I’m scared of being the middleman again if Matthew hyung falls in love with you,” is his painfully honest answer. The yard is smoky and warm, familiar faces here and there— Hanbin being one of them, who graces you with a look of confused concern upon hearing Gyuvin’s words. “Hyung, you don’t understand my pain. I keep setting her up with my friends, but they’re never good enough for her. At this rate—”

At this rate, you’re gonna be needing a warning whenever Ricky suddenly appears in front of your vision— one of the people you preemptively deemed ‘not good enough for you’ only for it to bite you in the ass.

In fact, he may be too much for you, because for a second there, you had the presupposition that he might be walking up to you. That delusion is quickly evaporated into the barbecue smoke because he’s looking at Hanbin, not you.

“Hyung,” he says. “Woong hyung needs help with the grill.”

“Oh, I’ll be right there.”

In between, Gyuvin has somehow disappeared, leaving you alone with Ricky and the unreasonable amount of feelings you have for him. It’s been a good week since you’ve last seen him. He’s wearing a thick red jacket and that same look of awkwardness whenever you’re around. “Hello,” he greets you softly with a nod.

“Hi,” you do the same. It’s excruciating. It’s painful. There’s a sizzle in the air, music from the stereos, and the loud, rambunctious noises expected from a group of eight, nine boys. Yet it’s everything quiet in between the both of you.

But after that tense greeting, there’s a shift in his gaze, a change in his posture. He’s clearing his throat, balancing himself on the heels of his feet with tightly pressed lips resembling that of a smile— almost as if he’s expecting something from you.

Oh, you realize. Oh, he’s too cute.

Without much of a thought, you dig into your coat pockets.

“Hao!” you call out in a hurry, running off to the long picnic table where the rest are all gathered. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy. “There’s still two faces I’m not acquainted with yet. Who’s this?”

While Hao introduces you to Gunwook and Yujin, your eyes flit over to the spot you’d left behind. Ricky is still standing there. He’s staring down, eyes trained on his cupped palms. “Ricky, come carry the cooler!” Taerae yells out for him, snapping him out of his daze. There’s a faint tinge of pink painting his ears when he strides off, fists closed with the same shade painting his knuckles. Your pockets are a lot lighter now. If you were him, you would have quite honestly fallen for yourself.

Dinner starts. You ask Yujin why he’s friends with a bunch of old men. “They’re obsessed with me,” is his reply, and you can’t debate with that. Not when five of them are suddenly yelling at Jiwoong for saying you should all play some drinking games to heat things up. It gets settled when Yujin and Gunwook are given glasses of apple juice, and the word ‘gorae’ is now being repeatedly thrown over the table.

One thing you’ve noticed is that Ricky is always a beat and half slow. It’s stupid adorable. Gyuvin passes the never-ending whale baton to him and he just continues the beat without saying anything, looking around like a lost cat, before letting out a noise and collapsing against Hanbin the moment he realized he just lost.

That’s it. You can’t take this anymore. He’s pocket-sized. You’re stuffing him inside your pocket. It doesn’t help that his flushed face makes him look exactly like the strawberries he loves much— matching the red of his jacket, and it’s driving you insane.

“You really do have a massive crush on him.”

Jiwoong invades your alone time once things have settled down a bit. You’re in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor right in front of the sliding doors to the backyard. No, you’re not sitting here because it gives you a nice view of Ricky chasing Gyuvin around with his jacket as a makeshift weapon. That’s not true at all. “Say it louder, will you,” you grunt when he takes a seat next to you, hitting the corner of your beer can with his before he takes a swig.

“I don’t have to. Not when you’re already practically outing yourself with your staring.”

You frown. “I’m not that obvious.” You double take. Then bite the inside of your cheek. “Hey. I think I’m screwed.”

Jiwoong shakes his head with a laugh. “Ricky is cute, isn’t he?”

Case in point, him doing that scrunchy face, gummy smile, when he suddenly bursts out laughing. You nod somberly. All Jiwoong does is make fun of your demise.

Still, you think you’re being subtle enough. Ricky is slow. He told you this was his strength and weakness when Gyuvin asked you to tag along with them on a shopping trip one time. But for someone who’s usually programmed to be in slow motion, he sure is quick to catch onto things when you don’t want him to.

“Seonbae.”

His voice is soft, unassuming. You’re both standing in front of Gyuvin’s apartment one late Friday afternoon. You’re holding open one of his hands, cupping his knuckles from underneath— something you’d never have anticipated to have the privilege of doing maybe three, four weeks prior— dropping five pieces of candy onto his palm without much of a thought.

“Yeah?” you hum.

He closes his hand and stuffs the fistful into his coat pocket, a completely blank and innocent face, before asking— “do you like me?”

Now, this wasn’t in your monthly fucking bingo.

You stifle back a choking noise, completely caught off guard. “H—huh?” Jiwoong was right. His only flaw is his overconfidence. You have no idea how to slip away from this unscathed. “What— what makes you say that?”

Ricky blinks at you. “You always give me snacks.” You’re pretty sure candy doesn’t qualify as snacks, but you digress. “Don’t...don’t they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”

Unfortunately for him, you’re swearing by a different psychological tactic. “W—well, I always have a lot of candy with me! For my blood sugar, you know?” you sputter out the first excuse you can rummage from your short-circuiting brain. “And...and after finding out you liked strawberries a lot, it would be rude and selfish not to give you any if I have them, right?”

Right? Please agree. Please stop asking any more questions. Ricky is pondering over your words, seemingly deep in thought with pursed lips, until those said pretty lips part open to say, “Oh. Oh, I get it.” You don’t know what he gets, but you roll with it. “Then again, it also doesn’t make sense if you like me.”

The fuck does he mean that it doesn’t make sense if you like him? You’d kiss his face right here and now.

“You turned down that date, after all.”

Insult to injury. He doesn’t know that was the biggest regret of your life. You bite down your tongue and exhale sharply. “Ah. Don’t overthink it, Mr. Shim,” you tell him, finally knocking on Gyuvin’s door after standing in front of it for a good ten minutes. “Overthinking causes stress. Stress will give you wrinkles.”

“It’s okay,” he says, turning over the door upon hearing a click. “I’m still handsome when I’m stressed.”

You breathe out a sigh. This is the man you’re down bad for. This is the man you’re helplessly pining for.

“I think you’d be more handsome with black hair.”

Surprisingly, that statement comes from Gyuvin and not from you. He opened the door just at the right moment— an unimpressed look on his face upon seeing his unannounced visitors. “Why have my Friday night invaders tripled?” he laments. Tripled? You don’t ask and let yourself in despite his protests.

“I’m here to check on your term paper,” you inform, kicking off your shoes at the entryway.

“I’m here to play games,” says Ricky, doing the same.

“I’m here to play games too.”

For some reason, Gunwook had the same idea as you two to terrorize Gyuvin’s sacred Friday nights of solitude, but managed to act on it before anyone else. He’s already settled on the floor of the living room like it’s his own, legs outstretched, switch controller in his hands. “Hyung, let’s play!” he calls out to Ricky. Gyuvin reluctantly tells you to sit down before he grabs you two drinks from the kitchen.

“You know what, I forgot to ask.” Gyuvin settles down two glasses of juice onto the coffee table with a suspicious eye directly zeroed in on you. “Why were you two together outside?”

“Seonbae and I happened to meet each other downstairs,” explains Ricky. Which was true. You did somehow bump into each other at the building lobby, Ricky nearly closing the elevator in front of your face in the process.

“Right. I told you I’m here to check on your paper, and I’ll be off once I do exactly that,” you tell him, mentally thanking Ricky for the save. “You had a month to write so it better be decent. Give me your laptop.”

Gyuvin smacks his tongue, but does as you say anyway, while the other two boys loiter around the floor and fuck around with Gyuvin’s switch that’s connected to the TV. They’re playing a Mario game. You pay them no mind, ignoring the non-human noises they make once Gyuvin reappears with his laptop. He warns you that this is still his first draft, but you didn’t need that premise. The first page isn’t even formatted correctly. You’ve got your work cut out for you.

“Hey, hey, move over! Let me play—”

Again, you pay no mind to the noise. It’s mostly coming from Gunwook and Gyuvin because Ricky is quiet when he’s focused— in this case, focused on hopping over some goombas. He’s got a thin pair of glasses perched on his nose, lips pursed unconsciously into a noot noot, and fuck he’s so cute, and — no, you’re not paying attention to him. You’re paying attention to your junior’s paper. You’re proofreading. Simply proofreading. You highlight some errors here and there, marking some corrections.

Yet again, you don’t pay attention to the noise Gunwook and Gyuvin are making—

“Ah. I’m killing Gyuvin’s brothers.”

—but Ricky suddenly makes a quiet remark, and you snort very, very loudly in response.

You slap a hand over your mouth. That wasn’t funny. That wasn’t funny at all and the other two didn’t even seem to hear it. “Why are you laughing?” Gyuvin looks at you, offended by the sound you just made. “Did I write something wrong in the analysis? Why are you laughing?”

“N-no, it’s just—” Your throat rips into a cough because it’s not easy to suppress a fit of chortles. Ricky looks so proud of himself, you’re going to cry. You’re near choking and Gyuvin hops onto his feet and makes a beeline for you in a flurry.

“You’re so mean! Give me back my laptop!”

This isn’t a misunderstanding that you intend on clearing up, so you let him run off with his laptop back into his room to revise in private after you’ve disrespected his work. Gunwook stretches up too, saying that he’s off to buy some snacks outside. “Do you want anything?” he asks. Ricky is feeding you his juice and patting your back because you can’t stop coughing. “Okay. Ginger candy. Got it.”

Gunwook has left. Gyuvin is holed up in his room. And the fact that you and Ricky are alone in the living room right now isn’t helping the state of your lungs. “Are...are you okay?” Ricky, the sweet, sweet angel, asks with those giant boba eyes and soft voice. You want to bite down your sleeve and chew it right off.

“I’m—I’m alright.” No, you’re not. You’re sitting way too close on the floor, knees bumping, and the game over screen being reflected on the television right now is a perfect rendition of what’s going on inside your head right now. “Whew. I’m fine. I’m perfectly okay.”

You honestly have no idea how you’ve managed to keep it together these past couple of weeks. You don’t know how you haven’t jumped this guy yet. The video game is forgotten, and Ricky is scrolling through his phone. He’s wearing a melon green sweater which, objectively, is an ugly ass color, but Ricky somehow pulls it off and looks extra fucking soft in it and you’re not god’s strongest soldier.

He lets out a soft laugh, notices you staring, and tilts his phone and scoots closer for you to see a dumb Tik Tok video. Your shoulders bump. You make a comment that fails to register to your own ears. “By the way,” he starts. He places his phone face down on the tabletop. Whoa, this is a little dangerous. He shouldn’t be pouring all his attention into you like this. “Are you free this weekend?”

You blink. Your brain is jumping into conclusions. “Why?”

“Well,” he fumbles with the tips of his sweater paws. You’re going to eat him. “My uncle’s resort is opening a new branch, so there’s an opening party. Everyone else is coming, including Gyuvin. It’d be nice if you can come as well.”

“Oh,” you open your mouth. You’re a little surprised. “Thanks for the invite, but I don’t think I’m fit for those kinds of events, you know?”

This is quite a bit of pressure. Ricky tilts his head, failing to understand what you mean for a second, but when he does he exclaims, “oh! Don’t worry. We don’t have to join the formal event. We can just eat dinner and mess around at the beach. The actual party will be boring, anyway.”

“Ah.” He’s an angel. He’s so sweet. It hasn’t even been long since you’ve somehow been absorbed into their tight-knit group. You’re not sure how it even happened.

Well, you were already friends with half of them separately. Gyuvin has been buzzing around you since he was eleven and you were thirteen. Hanbin and Hao have been your academic ride or dies ever since you met them in the first week of classes. Jiwoong has been a force you could lean on the moment he took you under his wing for your first major project in university.

And Ricky—

“Tell me if you want to come,” he smiles. “So I can reserve a room for you.”

Maybe this was bound to happen eventually.

“I’m done!”

Gyuvin has finally emerged from his room, stomping back to you and Ricky before slamming the laptop on the table before you. “I edited it. No more errors now. Praise me,” he says proudly. You give him a suspicious glance, sliding the device closer to you. “This one’s good, right? Tell me it’s good. Don’t laugh. Laughing isn’t constructive.”

Ricky is curious and pokes his face closer to yours, and you flinch. “You misspelled ‘debilitating,’” he says. You gasp. Ricky, once again, looks so proud of himself. Gyuvin wants to die.

“Give it back—”

He snatches the laptop once more and starts aggressively typing next to the both of you. At the same time, Gunwook finally returns with a bag of miscellaneous snacks. “Seonbae, here you go,” he tosses a full bag of ginger-honey candy to you, which you now have no use for because you have stopped coughing.

“Thanks,” you gruffly say. When you stuff it into your bag you notice Ricky staring at you. “Do you want some?” you ask. He doesn’t answer your question but says something else entirely.

“You don’t need that anymore.”

Your eyes widen when Ricky snatches the bag of candy from you. He promptly opens it— moving quicker than you’ve ever seen him before, and rips open a piece before tossing it into his mouth.

You’re in shock. What is he doing?

“Hey, that’s not for you!” Gunwook protests. Ricky responds by simply pelting him with another piece. Gunwook is speechless. Then retaliates by throwing a candy bar from his 7-Eleven bag to Ricky’s chest. It bounces onto his lap. Ricky grabs another piece of candy to flick at Gunwook. They start fighting. Gyuvin notices the fun and abandons his paper to join in.

This isn’t how you planned your Friday to end up like. Then again, you didn’t plan on developing a crush on your friend’s best friend either, so you can’t really say anything else.

HANBIN HAS BEEN WAITING IN YOUR BUILDING’S PARKING LOT FOR A GOOD TWENTY MINUTES NOW. You’re already late for the event, so might as well make the most of your tardiness. I’m still getting ready, you shoot Hanbin a text. You keep messing up your fucking eyeliner, and there’s no way in hell you’re showing up to that damned, bougie ass event in front of Ricky with assymetrical eyeliner. His are always perfect and you don’t want to lose to that.

“Dude, we might miss the buffet!”

It’s Matthew yelling at you when the tinted front seat window rolls down as you sprint— heels on, mind you— to the car. “The place is a resort! They’re never running out of food,” you yell back while throwing the backseat open and then throwing yourself inside.

You’re breathing quite heavily. “Are we ready to go?” asks Hanbin, and you shoot him a thumbs up. You’re too busy catching your breath to notice Yujin also co-occupying Hanbin’s car.

“Noona, how long did it take for you to get ready?” he asks.

“Three hours,” you reply with a grunt. It’s a little hot so you open the windows, letting some air in. You can’t risk your makeup melting. You need to be extra pretty tonight to stand a chance against all the rich people flooding that place.

“Really?” Yujin does the same. “I can’t tell.”

You’re speechless. You hear Hanbin swallow down a giggle. Matthew isn’t even trying. This highschooler just roasted your ass. You need to put him in his place. “Why are you out here on a weekend?” you click your tongue. “You should be using this time to study.”

“I study enough already,” he protests.

“What was the Gyeongbokgung palace used for during the Joseon Dynasty?”

Yujin freezes. “Wow,” he says robotically after a significant pause, just as mechanically turning his head to the window. “The night air is so fresh.”

You don’t grill him further because Yujin is right— there’s something different about the wind wafting through the atmosphere tonight. You let yourself sink into the carseat, let the breeze cool your cheeks, eyes fluttered close, until you reach your destination. The resort is far off from the city— the seaside, obviously, but you don’t see the shorelane just yet. Only a towering building illuminated with warm flushed lights as the car drives up to the entrance, surrounded by ferns and foliage and an air of complete refinement.

The foyer floor is so shiny that you can see the chandelier reflecting from it. Are you allowed to step on this? Is this legal?

Upon entering the function hall however, your nerves become nothing. You already see a handful of people being completely, strikingly, and obviously out of place. All for different reasons.

You see Gunwook near the live band, somehow holding a conversation with two men that appear to be twice his age. Gyuvin and Jiwoong have comparatively way too much food on their plates as they camp right by the buffet. Hao is currently talking to a security guard while a suspicious looking vase is sticking out of his pocket. The only person that would be blending in well right now would be Taerae— if he wasn’t wearing that bright purple suit ensemble.

Damn. You shouldn’t have been worrying so much about being a fish out of water. These guys are way worse than you.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

But of course. There’s one guy that looks like he’s completely at home.

Matthew greets Ricky’s arrival with a half-hug, and the other two boys do the same while you respectfully stand and stare. Respectfully. Yes. You pay no mind to that dangerously unbuttoned-button down under than dangerously low-cut blazer. You are the embodiment of peace and serenity and giving him your business as usual smile. “Hey,” you say. “Sorry we’re late.”

When Ricky returns your stiff smile with one of pure ease and kindness, you swoon like a fucking loser. “Yeah,” Yujin inserts. “She was taking so long to fix her face.”

Your smile stiffens further. “I did not take so long, haha, what are you talking about.”

Yujin gives you a look. “You said you took three—”

And there goes your hand over his mouth to shut him up. “Haha. Let’s go eat, Yujinnie. Didn’t you say you were starving?” Yujin muffles something out. You pinch his arm. “Thanks for the invite, Ricky! We’re off to sweep the buffet now!”

“Wait—”

You book it. Well. As fast as you can book it with these damned heels and with a large shoulder bag weighing you down because you’ll be staying here overnight for free. Does the bag match your dress? No, it does not, but you don’t know where your room is and you’re not well enough to talk to Ricky at the moment, so you suck it up and stress-eat at the buffet table with the Yujin you kidnapped. “Why were you so embarrassed, noona?” he innocently asks while stuffing his cheeks with some meat skewers. “You look pretty tonight and it’s all thanks to your hard work.”

Who has been teaching him these backhanded remarks? Who has been negatively influencing this child? You grunt and put a scoop of mashed potatoes on his plate, much to his displeasure, and continue eating your own damned meal.

“Hey, can you take a photo of me?”

The moment you’re done with your not so pleasant meal, you’re skewed away by Matthew who wishes to hire you as his photographer. After that barbecue dinner last time, Matthew swore that you take the best photos of him and his entire IG feed for the past month is credited to you.

You look at him, displeased because you’re not wearing the appropriate attire to lay on the floor to ensure the best angles. “Go stand by the window.” Still, you take his phone from him and make do with what you can. “What’s your password again?”

“Hao hyung’s birthday.”

“Got it.”

Now, stretching your legs and getting into various lunging positions aren’t easy to do when you’re wearing a long and silky dress. But you are a woman of commitment, and your bag is weighing you further to the ground as you take a low-angle shot of Matthew. “Okay, now hold your necktie. Now look away— perfect. That’s it. Next one.” When you try to get up, gravity decides that it hates you. You wobble on the stilts of your shoes, nearly stumbling back, but you feel someone grab onto your arm and pull you up before your ass kisses the ground.

“Whoa, please be careful.”

It’s Ricky. Of course, it’s him. When you look up, he’s got his eyebrows knitted together out of concern, strands of light wavy hair perfectly falling over said eyebrows and your breath hitches in your throat a little.

He’s got his other hand held out, and he’s probably expecting you to take it to balance yourself to your feet, but you refuse to be a predictable woman.

Instead, you give him Matthew’s phone and help yourself up. “Thanks. I’m fine. Just slipped a little.” You have no idea why you’re acting coy right now. Maybe it’s because he’s being a little less cute tonight, being a little more dangerous instead— flinching the moment you feel his feathery touch on your shoulder as he removes the weight of your bag from your person, before passing it to an attendant that he calls over with a single look.

“Can you bring this to Room 207? Thank you.”

No, no, no, this is too much. This is too much for you. Why is he trying to be smooth? Why is he trying to swoop you off your feet without taking any responsibility?

“Hyung, I’ll take your photos instead,” he says to Matthew, who’s been watching the spectacle unfold and you pray to god that your unsubtle thirsting wasn’t too noticeable. Matthew doesn’t say anything about it, though. You assume you’re in the safe zone because all he’s doing is complaining when Ricky takes way too zoomed in photos of his face. “This is a new trend. Just trust me.”

“Sure? Okay, go on.”

You take this as an opportunity to escape, only to be called by Gyuvin back to the buffet table because, “have you tried their gambas?! This shit is fire!”

When an old guy took the podium, you all took this as your cue to exit— scattered off either to the beach, bar, or your Ricky-sponsored rooms. You have an entire room for yourself because there’s no way in hell you’re sharing a room with any of those stinky boys. Your exhaustion is aching for a shower, and so you grant its request, and by the time you’re done freshening up and changing into a more comfortable set of clothing, you receive a text from Hanbin that they’re all gathered at the beach.

“Ah. The wind is cold.”

Wearing a thick jacket out was the right choice indeed. You stuff your hands into your pockets for warmth, feet sinking into the sand as you watch the mess before you. They’re all either running around, drawing things on the ground, or lounging on a picnic blanket under the starlit horizon. “Sit,” says Jiwoong, tapping the empty spot next to him, and you oblige with a yawn. “It’s only eleven. Can’t believe you’re sleepy already.”

“I’m getting old,” you tell him, letting your head drop onto your shoulder as you hug your knees. The rest are by the shore or in the water. You have no energy to join in at this point.

Jiwoong makes a distasteful noise at your statement. “What does that make me?”

“A fossil.” You yawn once more, craning your neck to bury your face into his arm. “I’m so tired.”

He chuckles. “Are you fine with Ricky seeing you like this?”

“Please be quiet.” This time, you sneeze. Right into the sleeve of his shirt. Then you sniffle. “He’s not even here.” Jiwoong is disgusted. He tips you off, picks up your wrist, and uses your hand to wipe off your ‘germs,’ or so he says.

“You’re lucky he didn’t see that. Where is he, anyway?”

The question is answered by Gyuvin when his energy finally gets exhausted from splashing around, flopping onto the blanket next to you and Jiwoong. “He was still in our room when I left,” he says, out of breath. “I think he wanted to rest for a while.”

Gradually, the rest start to gather too. “We haven’t taken a group photo yet,” Hao brings up. “He’s gonna sulk if we take one and he’s not here.”

It’s as if you just got recharged with a full eight hours of sleep.

“I’ll go get him,” you say, promptly standing up. “I need to pick up something from my bag, anyway.” Total lie. Jiwoong sees right through your bullshit and his teeth are showing through his smile. You flip him off and start making your way back, stumbling when Hanbin asks if you want him to accompany you, bringing back the hop in your step when Gunwook tells him, “she’s a big girl, she can handle it herself.” You’ll get back at him for that later.

Two-one-three, two-one-three, two-one-three, you repeat the room number in your head as you go down each door in the hallway, ringing phone glued to your ear to inform Ricky that you’re going to barge into his room, but he’s not picking up. Maybe he’s asleep? Probably. There’s no response when you knock on the door and slot in the key Gyuvin gave you, and you’re met with dim lights and an eerie silence the moment you crack open the door.

“Ricky?” you call out. There’s no response.

The light from the hallway leaks in to illuminate an empty bed. Huh. Where is he? What rouses even more questions is the odd positioning of what should be a bedside table, for some reason positioned at the foot of the bed and a few feet away from the open bathroom door. There’s also a mishmash of things stacked on the table— books, folded shirts, magazines, and some of which have fallen and scattered to the floor.

But those aren’t the only things on the ground.

You quickly bring a hand to your mouth. “Oh,” you wheeze out. “Oh my god.” You try to cover it up with a cough, but it’s too late. A snort managed to slip through.

“Stop laughing,” he protests from the floor. How could you hold it in when Ricky is right there, lying curled on the ground while hugging what seems to be his knee, bathrobe-clad, with papers and magazines scattered around and on top of him. A memo sheet is stuck on his cheek. His back is turned to you. His buzzing phone with your contact name on it is next to his head.

How the hell did he end up here?

“Are—are you okay?” you manage to say as you crouch down next to him. He doesn’t budge when you try to roll him back. He lets out a grunt and tells you to leave him alone. “I can’t, I was ordered to pick you up. What are you trying to hide? Why won’t you look at m—”

When you finally roll him to his back, you realize why.

“Oh no.”

Ricky’s got a hand hovering over half of his face— the wrong half because you can very clearly see the red gash running down his right temple, but that’s probably not what he’s intending to hide. He’s got his brows in a sad and shameful furrow, glaring eyes refusing to look at you, and you can see the shades of pink coral and pink on his cheeks, slipping through the gaps of his fingers.

He’s pink. He’s so pink.

“Don’t laugh,” he grumbles. “It’s not funny.”

You might as well eat him whole, holy fucking shit.

“N—no, you’re right. It’s not funny. I’m not laughing.”

You’re damn near about to break into a coughing fit again with how hard you’re trying to suppress your giggles. Based on the evidence laid down at the crime scene— namely his still damp hair, scanty bathrobe, misplaced furniture, and the mess of it all— Ricky was likely trying to take post-shower thirst traps while Gyuvin was still out so he wouldn’t be made fun of.

Slipping and hitting his head on the table’s edge in the process was probably not part of his calculations. You fear you might’ve been the unintentional cause of this because you gave him a surprise call earlier.

“Let’s get you up, big boy. Grab my hand.”

Begrudgingly, he lets you pull him up. You instruct him to sit on the bed while you call room service for a first aid kit. The wound on his forehead doesn’t look serious, but you decide to apply some ointment and put a bandage on it just in case. He winces when you clean the dried blood off with water. God, he’s too fucking cute. Your gushing is ruined by an incoming call.

“Hanbin,” you greet, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder because you’re still trying to patch up the poor boy. He scrunches his nose when the ointment touches his wound. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. A minor accident occurred. No, you don’t have to come up here. Ricky is physically well and alive.” You can’t say the same about his emotional state though. He’s been quiet and frowning this whole time. “Say hi, Ricky.”

You pass him the phone. He looks at your phone wielding hand, a contemplative expression, then takes it. “Don’t come,” is all he says to Hanbin at the other end of the line— a little too gruffly for your liking— before tossing it off somewhere onto the bed.

Ricky’s eyes snap up to look at you. Maybe you’ve been taking this situation a little too lightly.

“Is it done?” he asks in that same tone of voice, and— oh. Oh, no. You’re in a tight spot. Figuratively and literally because Ricky is leaning back against the bed, you slightly leaning into him because you’re simply, very innocently trying to bandage up his temple, and the most comfortable way to do it is having a knee propped up on the mattress, face hovering dangerously above his.

When you unavoidably make eye contact, you flinch and feel your bones rattle.

Oh.

Your gaze falters and your swallow down your dry throat, watching as the bathrobe slips down from his left shoulder in real time. That’s it. You’re gone. Your brain has stopped working. You’re starting to miss cute Ricky who gets excited over your strawberry candies. Where is he? Where did he go? This Ricky is a little dangerous. This Ricky feels like he’s going to fucking eat you alive.

“Y—yeah. One sec.” You’re not sure if you even managed to secure the bandage on his wound because the moment your skin touched his, you immediately flung yourself back from a ghost burn. “Did...did you hurt yourself anywhere else?” you ask. He shouldn’t be looking at you like that. Why is he looking at you like that?

The brief silence that follows swallows you whole.

“I’m not sure. Can you check?”

Then spits you right back out because crazy fucking bastard— what the fuck does he fucking mean by can you fucking check?

“Oh, um.” Dry. Your throat is dry. Does he want you dead? Is that it? Does it not matter whether or not you get out of this room alive? You don’t like this— whatever this is because you don’t know what’s wrong with him tonight. Did he get a concussion when he fell? Do you have to go take him to see a doctor?

Maybe it’s you that needs to go see a doctor. Because you’re pretty damn sure that this heart rate is nowhere near normal.

Knock, knock, knock.

“We’re coming in.”

Karma acts quickly because you stumble back and nearly collapse into the floor as well. The door cracks open and you grab onto the nearest thing for balance, which, in this case, is a curtain you almost tug off from the window out of sheer force. “Ricky slipped and hurt his head,” you blurt out the moment Hanbin and a few others enter the room. Ricky’s face drops into betrayal. Self-defense. You needed a diversion.

Taerae and Gyuvin are the ones that came with Hanbin, the former taking a long look at the room and its inhabitants. “Oh,” he says after acknowledging the mess on the floor and the bandage on Ricky’s forehead. “Okay, Humpty Dumpty.”

Gyuvin lets out a snort. Ricky chucks a pillow in their direction. Thank god for their interruption because you don’t know what would have overtaken you had they come five minutes later. “No wait, did he really slip?” Gyuvin asks, a little too giddy and giggly about the whole ordeal. “Dude, did you fall over while taking thirst traps?”

And you’re subsequently kicked out of the room while Ricky gets dressed into something more decent and gets made fun of by Gyuvin and Taerae.

“Took you guys long enough.”

You’re all back at the beach now with a grumpy Ricky in tow. Gyuvin immediately runs off to snitch on his best friend’s misfortune to the rest. He’s sulking, you notice, face down and hands stuffed in his pockets as the cool breeze flutters his hair in its embrace. “Quit making fun of him!” Hanbin scolds, and you spot Jiwoong’s expectant expression to tell him what you were up to alone in Ricky’s room.

Nothing You were up to nothing, you send the message through your glare. You could’ve been up to something had those three not interrupted, but would you have survived that? Your eyes flicker over to Ricky, who’s trying to push Gyuvin off him— traces of the tension and danger from the hotel room completely gone without a trace that you fear you might have just been imagining it out of the sheer feeling of want you harbor for the guy.

“C’mon, let’s take a picture!”

Before you know it, you’re gathered by the shore in a bluf, feet sinking into the sand, and you feel yourself bump into Ricky at the very moment the camera flashes to capture the scene.

“Hey, this one came out nicely.”

It did. You’re not sure about the rest, but this photo deserves to be tucked into your wallet and kept in a capsule.

Ricky is standing next to you, the tight frame leaving no gap or space in between. You’re both smiling a little awkwardly. It’s cute. You keep staring at it until your attention is pulled away by the very man himself.

“You owe me something,” is Ricky’s introduction when he saunters over to you. You raise a brow, closing your phone. Looks like he’s finally gotten over what happened earlier. Gyuvin has finally stopped teasing him by moving on to messing with the sparklers Gunwook brought. You can hear their shouts and laughter from afar, but it’s all muted down.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He takes out one hand from his pocket, an open palm outstretched. He’s looking at you expectantly in wait. You break out into a soft laugh and shake your head. Maybe your candy-related scheme worked a little too well.

“I didn’t think I was contractually obligated to do this now,” you hum, fishing out a few pieces of candy from your sweats before dropping them onto his hand. “Maybe I should stop.”

“You can’t just start something by yourself and suddenly stop all by yourself. That’s not fair,” he complains, accepting your offer. “You have to take responsibility.” Only if he takes responsibility for your poor and shriveling heart. His tone is light, a smile playing on his lips, and at this point— you’re sure this isn’t just a crush anymore. You might just be a little in love with Ricky Shen.

YOU HAD NO IDEA HAO WAS SO INFORMED ABOUT PROF SHIN’S MAKEUP PREFERENCES. It’s her birthday this upcoming week. You three freeloaders need to keep sucking up so you can maintain your office privileges, so you decided to buy her a present. Hanbin is unavailable, so it’s just you and Hao browsing the boutiques downtown, and you narrowed down your scope (and budget) to just buying her makeup.

You pull out a bright red lipstick from the display and show it to Hao. “What about this one?” you ask. Hao puts on a look of disapproval.

“She doesn’t like wearing bright colors. Maybe something more on the nude side would be better.”

Well damn, okay. You put the rejected stick back with the rest of its friends. The next one you pick out is also rejected because it’s glossy. “Prof Shin prefers matte,” he further reasons. And now you’re starting to question exactly how and why he knows this. Hao doesn’t humor your queries, though. You settle with a nude Laneige matte lip and a matching blush as a bonus.

“We’re done here, right?” Hao asks after you two pay for the gift.

“Hold on.” You’re stopped by a certain item on display near the check-out counter. You’re convinced that you’ve definitely gone off the deep end at this point. The thoughts blurring inside your head the moment you laid eyes on the strawberry-flavored lip gloss for sale are a little too insane, even for you. You’re not buying this. You don’t even use gloss. This is crazy.

“Thank you, please come again!”

You exit the store with your gift for Prof Shin and a new lip product. You are stressing yourself out.

The buzzing of your phone forces you out of your existential crisis. It’s Gyuvin messaging the group chat. “Hey,” you tap Hao upon reading the message. “We don’t have anything else to do right? You said you have extra gift boxes at home.” When Hao asks why, you show him Gyuvin’s message.

[gyubie cutie: no one wants to send off ricky at the airport with me? :( damn i really am his only friend].

You reply that you and Hao are on the way. You know that Ricky is leaving for a quick vacation to Shanghai today (two weeks before the semester ends, mind you) after an impulsive decision involving alcohol the other day with you and a few of the guys. At one point they suddenly became all emotional and the topic of their families were brought up. Ricky woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a phone screen that tells him his flight has been booked.

“Well, I guess I’ll just go,” he said over hangover soup and aspirin, as if he doesn’t have exams in two fucking weeks, and as if Shanghai is just a bus ride away. Sometimes, you’re surprised with how easy going he is. The flight is at an awkward time— Thursday mid-noon, so it’s no surprise that no one else is free to see him off. You didn’t mention anything about wanting to send him off and neither did he ask you to, so you thought why the hell would you do that unless you want to expose your ass full of feelings. But Gyuvin presented the opportunity. Who are you to turn it down?

“Over here!”

You spot Gyuvin waving at you two from a distance with outstretched limbs. You preemptively grab a handful of candy from your pocket— battle ready because it’s been getting harder and harder to pass these to him subtly as of late with the amount of eyes constantly on you— but you don’t find the mop of blonde anywhere, even when you’ve finally reached Gyuvin’s spot.

“Has Ricky left already?” you ask, brow raised. You’d be pissed if Gyuvin baited you two here only for the guy to have already left.

“No, no. He’s here,” he assures. “He’s around here somewhere. He bought some snacks not too long ago, but some girl stopped him to get his number. I lost him because seeing him get hit on made me gag so I had to look away for my safety.”

Well, that’s both assuring and not. Then you remember you have no right to be jealous because Ricky Shen, as suspiciously as he may be behaving as of late (case in point, accidentally seducing you in a bathrobe the other week), he is still not your damned boyfriend.

“Oh, there he is.”

Ricky who is not your boyfriend arrives, and the first thing he does is make you feel so fucking sorry that he isn’t.

“Whoa.”

No wonder you weren’t able to spot him right off the bat. His attention-seeking light hair is gone. No, he hasn’t shaved it— he dyed it freaking black and he looks so fucking good. “Oh, uh,” is how you greet him. The words have completely dried out from your throat. Ricky is looking at you expectantly. Your mouth is hanging open pathetically. “Wow.” Your eloquence is award winning.

He laughs. He wants you dead. “Does it look weird? I needed natural hair for visa requirements.”

“N—no,” you sputter out. Gyuvin goes on to brag that he was right that Ricky would look great in dark hair and Hao proceeds to try and touch said hair, only to get his hand smacked by the hair-owner, while you’re still temporarily incapacitated to say or do anything. You don’t get to say anything, because the clock strikes twelve-twenty, and Ricky has to go

“Have a safe flight, dummy,” Hao bids Ricky off with what you can only describe as a glomp, only to be assaulted by Gyuvin immediately after. You’re standing there awkwardly like a fourth-wheel, hands tucked behind your back because you can’t find the timing to say your farewells, and you missed the timing to pass the candy to him earlier after being so rudely jumpscared by his new look.

When Ricky finally manages to swat and push them both off, his eyes flash over to you. Your mouth curls into something sort of a smile— you’re not completely sure. Ricky takes a step forward to engulf you in an embrace.

Oh. Oh, so we’re doing this now, you think, eyes flying wide open in surprise with a pathetic squeak. “Thanks for seeing me off,” he murmurs softly, and you can feel his voice vibrating into your skin and penetrating your bones. You can’t even reciprocate because he locks your arms tightly against your own body, and you feel his fingers unclasping yours behind your back, allowing him to take the strawberry pieces you intended to give, before pulling away with a dumb grin. “Want anything when I get back?”

You try to blink away the violent shock tremors you’re feeling right now. “I’ve— I’ve always wanted to try the sun cakes there.” Deep breathes. You’re normal. You’re totally normal.

Ricky takes his carrier from Gyuvin, sending you a small smile. “I’ll buy you a hundred.”

“Don’t overdo it,” you let out a breath. God, he drives you insane. “Safe skies. See you when you get back.”

The moment Ricky boards the plane, Gyuvin turns around to ask you two what you should have for lunch. “Why are you so happy that your best friend is gone?” you ask with narrowed eyes the moment you three settle with the first food place you see at Terminal 1 of the airport. “Do you secretly hate him? Is that it?”

“He’ll be gone for two days max, give me a break,” he grunts. “And tomorrow’s Friday. That means I can get the whole evening and weekend to myself without anyone barging into my apartment.”

Your friend’s joy is reflected with how energetically he’s inhaling the bowl of stew. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m gonna do a progress check on your paper tomorrow.” Gyuvin sets down the bowl, looking at you like you just sentenced him to prison. Hao is minding his own business and enjoying his meal. “What? Don’t tell me you forgot that your deadline is in two weeks. I’m checking it tomorrow, so make sure it’s at the very least decent.”

When Gyuvin tells you to stop nagging because it reflects your age, Hao had to stop you from throttling the man.

Anyway, the day passes and you’re at Gyuvin’s apartment to check on his paper.

“Why are you smiling at your phone? Damn, she’s finally lost it,” he says over another meal. You finished giving him your feedback and decided to just have takeout dinner with him. While eating, however, you received a text from Ricky— a photo of his own meal and a thumbs up above the plate of skewers. It’s been a day, but you can barely feel his absence with how he’s been texting you every hour from the moment he landed.

[ouricky: (photo attached) touchdown ✌️].

[ouricky: (photo attached) this looks like u].

[ouricky: are u asleep yet?]

[ouricky: gyuvin told me ur at his place. tell him to eat shit for me].

[ouricky: (photo attached) dinner w my sister 👍 our meal is better than yours].

“What the hell, did you get a boyfriend?” You look up from your phone to find a very judgemental Gyuvin. “After rejecting all my attempts to set you up for romance? This is a personal attack. You’re buying ice cream later.”

If only he knew you were texting his best friend. Not that you have any intentions on telling him.

“Hey, why do you smell like strawberries?” Gyuvin asks after your meal, right when you decide to retouch your makeup as you ready yourself to leave. “Is that the candy you always bring?”

“It’s my new lip gloss,” You show off the pink bottle. “It tastes like the fruit too.”

“Whoa, that’s cool,” he snatches it from you, examining it a little too close to his face to sniff it. “Where’d you buy it? Do they have one in mango?”

While trying to convince Gyuvin that he should maybe purchase actual mangoes instead of planning on eating an entire bottle of mango-flavored gloss, you also try to convince yourself that you definitely did not make this purchase yourself to try and seduce his friend. Ricky isn’t even here. You’re not wearing it for him. You’re wearing it for yourself.

“I’m off! I’ll take you to the store next time.”

When you defend yourself and your new lip gloss against Jiwoong’s judgment the next morning, he tells you that Ricky probably doesn’t feel the same way as you do. That you probably shouldn’t think too much of it and hurt yourself with your expectations. But at this point, it’s reasonable for you to start overthinking, right? Right? What does Jiwoong know, anyway? He’s not Ricky’s mother. Ricky’s mother is on a yacht with him right now, and you know because he just sent you a video and you’re damn near the precipice of falling headfirst into the depths of thinking he might just like you too.

“I just don’t want you to get too ahead of yourself and end up getting hurt.”

Assuming you’re right and Ricky does like you back— when the hell could it have started? The barbecue at Matthew’s? That one evening at Gyuvin’s apartment? That night in his uncle’s resort? You have no idea, much like how you have no idea how you somehow got absorbed into their mess of a friend group.

But a few little texts and inexplicable bouts of skinship here and there isn’t enough to set you way too far off-the deep end. The way he looks at you might just be your imagination. Jiwoong could still be absolutely correct and you’re just tripping over your own assumptions.

You’re not that quick to listen to your intrusive thoughts. You’re still a little reasonable. That’s why you haven’t fallen to your knees and blurted out your insurmountable feelings for him yet.

What does set you off to state beyond help, however, is a sudden phone call later that same Friday evening.

Morning, rather. Specifically at four in the morning— waking you up from your sleep by its incessant buzzing. “Hello?” you groan into the mic, voice still croaky and eyes barely open. “What’s up? Why aren’t you asleep?” You have no idea why Ricky is calling you right now. The moment you hear his voice through the line however, you feel all five of your senses suddenly snapping wide awake.

“I thought it’d be a waste to spend my time here asleep,” he says with a soft chuckle. Oh, holy fuck it’s too early for this. You’re not mentally prepared for this kind of voice from him yet— low, almost a deep rumble, reminiscent of thunderstorms and clouds, only amplified by how he’s practically whispering into the core of your being through the phone.

You pull your blanket down and roll over to the side to give your heart a chance to breathe.

“Yet you decide to call me at four in the morning instead of doing something more worthwhile,” you click your tongue, and you only hear Ricky laugh in response. “Are you planning on extending your trip? When’s your flight?”

“No, I’m leaving later. I still have to prepare for finals,” he replies. “Flight’s scheduled at 11 p.m.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” you say. “I’m pulling an all-nighter at the library tonight. Deadline to catch. I don’t think I can see you at the airport this time.”

“That’s alright,” he hums. “Next time you can just come with me to Shanghai.”

You pause. Wait. Wait a minute. “Haha, yeah, it— it would be nice to visit your hometown with the rest of the guys, yes.” That’s what he probably meant. You probably meant all of you— many, plural— not just you and you alone. Haha. Of course.

But when Ricky takes a while to reply, you start to overthink, start nipping on the skin of your lip so hard that blood might draw.

“Yeah,” he says after an awkward beat. “With the rest of the guys. Yeah.”

You really need to hear Jiwoong’s voice of reason right now. Because all you’re hearing is the sound of your own heartbeat inside your ears like a hyperactive drum.

“Anyway, you must be tired. I should let you sleep now,” says Ricky after ruining all your chances of falling back asleep. You can’t. The best you can do is get up before the sun and go on with your busy day so as to not think about this conversation too much.

“You should be the one sleeping,” you manage to reply. “Don’t forget my sun cakes.”

“Mhm. G’night.”

Crazy. This man drives you fucking crazy.

You don’t return to sleep after that.

“Okay,” is Jiwoong’s expert opinion after telling him what happened later that same evening, having dinner with him at a McDonald’s near the city library. He’s put his kiddie meal on pause while you were telling him about Ricky Shen and his demonic antics at four in the morning. He’s got his elbows on the table, fingers interlocked, and staring at you with a look so serious he might as well be diagnosing you with a disease. “I think you’re right,” he continues. “Maybe he does like you.”

The shriek you let out is almost inhuman.

Jiwoong’s lips quirk into a smile and he goes back to eating. “I told you! I told you I wasn’t overthinking things! My lip gloss purchase is justified!” you proclaim. Jiwoong tosses a fry into your mouth to sedate you, and it works for a few chews until you start yapping again. “But, god, now what? He’s returning later or tomorrow. I have no idea how to face him.”

Your phone vibrates a message. “Is it Ricky?” he asks in an attempt to tease you, but all your face does is turn sour upon reading the text. “No? Who is it?”

“Woong,” you say, setting your phone on the table. “Are you busy this evening?”

He furrows his brows. “I was planning on writing my paper. Why? Is there a problem?”

“Great. You can work with me at the library the whole night.”

When you slide your phone over across the table, Jiwoong understands.

[jaeryeong: can i see you tonight? please? it wont take long. i just need to make things right].

“He’s a persistent fucking cockroach.”

You grunt, taking back your phone. “You should report him,” he says, and you’ve completely lost your appetite. “Screenshot his texts and block his number. I’ll accompany you to the station if you want to handle this legally.”

“No, it’s fine,” you scrunch your nose. He’s a wimp, according to his ex-friend Gyuvin, so you’re sure he isn’t gonna hurt you or anything. And your exams are coming up, so you don’t want to deal with processing this entire thing while you’re already academically burdened as is. “Be my bodyguard for the night. If he tries anything, I can just throw you at him and run away.”

Jiwoong doesn’t approve of your methods, but doesn’t argue anyway. After eating you both finally head to the library where you’ll be cooped up the entire night— tucked in the corner in your own respective cubicles.

Your friend’s worry starts stirring whenever he sees you check your phone every hour or so. He pulls back the desk chair upon noticing the serious look on your face, turning over to your direction in concern. “Is Jaeryeong texting you?” he asks. “Did he follow you here? Should I call the police?”

“No,” you reply. “Ricky sent me a photo of him at the airport. He’s wearing ear muffs. He’s so cute. I can’t do this anymore.”

Jiwoong’s face falls to an expression reminiscent of death and stops talking to you after that.

Well. You have been receiving texts from Jaeryeong, but you haven’t opened them in case he gets motivated by the fact you’ve read his messages. You still don’t know how he and Gyuvin ended up being friends, but then again, Gyuvin was friends with a group of delinquents in high school. He wasn’t part of the group. He just thought their vibe was cool.

“Hey.”

It’s twenty minutes past twelve, Ricky is probably still on the airplane, and you haven’t eaten anything since your 6 p.m. dinner. You poke Jiwoong’s arm, to which he blatantly ignores. “I’m gonna get something from the vending machine. Keep ignoring me and I won’t buy you snacks.” He says nothing but follows you when you get up, and you sneer at the man following you with a silent tantrum. “Quit sulking,” you tell him as you punch the numbers for coffee on the machine. “You’re not cute enough for that.”

“I’m sorry for not being Ricky,” is the first thing he says to you after two hours of silence. “You’re wearing that scheming lip gloss again, but he’s not even here.” You frown. He laughs and takes your place in front of the vending machine by cordially bumping his ass into yours the moment your drink falls down the chute. “Your phone’s flashing by the way. I think Ricky’s calling.”

You look down, bringing up your phone, and sure enough calling ID “ouricky” is giving you a call.

He’s calling. He is calling you.

Your eyes flash back up to Jiwoong, widened in surprise.

Why is he calling you?

“Did he send a message in the group chat that he arrived?” you ask, suddenly panicking as the phone relentlessly vibrates in your hand. “He didn’t, right? Why would he call me first? What time is it? Wasn’t his flight just an hour ago?”

“For someone who’s been pretty confident that Ricky likes you back, you’re sure acting funny,” he hums, leaning against the vending machine and taking a sip from his cold brew while you’re having a mental breakdown. “Answer it. Go on.”

“‘I’m scared!” you exclaim. “What if instead of saying hello I end up blurting out that I’m in love with him and ask him if he feels the same way?!”

You take too long to make a move so the phone line gets cut off. But when Ricky calls again, Jiwoong wastes no time to snatch your phone from your hands, click answer, and put the damn thing on loudspeaker for the entire fucking world to hear. What the hell are you doing? your scrunched up face says to him. Doing you a favor, his arrogant eyebrows reply. You attempt to snatch your phone back, arms in a desperate move to retrieve to device—

“Hello?”

—but they freeze mid-air at the sound of Ricky’s voice blurring through the speaker.

Jiwoong grins. You slowly get your phone back and press it to your ear. “Yes. Hello. What’s up?” You give Jiwoong the nastiest glare you can muster, but flinch back the moment you hear Ricky’s voice again.

“Are you still at the library?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You elbow Jiwoong when he laughs at your sudden switch-up. “Why?”

“Come down.”

What?

“I’m outside.”

It’s almost stupid how your body starts moving on its own.

The cold air bites your skin the moment you break past the doors, met by the dim sky and muted sight of the empty plaza square outside the library entryway. But it’s not completely empty— no. Ricky, who’s supposed to be still on the plane ride back to Seoul, is standing five feet away from you, eyes flickering up from his phone the moment you arrive, a slow, soft smile blooming on his face and cheeks.

You see the suitcase next to his feet. Jiwoong’s words echo in your head— maybe you’re right, he said, maybe he does like you. It’s not just a maybe anymore. It’s not just your mind making things up.

Ricky, who is supposed to be in the air halfway between Seoul and Shanghai, went straight from the airport to the city library just to see you.

You’re usually the one doing dumb things because of him. This time, it’s not you.

It’s him.

“Hey, are you crazy? Did your flight schedule change?” You stomp towards him, closing the gap between the both of you with big strides and quick steps. “Why didn’t you update us? Jesus, you gave me a scare when you said you were here.”

Ricky’s only reply is a laugh, and your intent to scold him more gets stuck in your throat and you stumble a little when you abruptly halt right in front of his feet. You look at him, batting your eyes in an attempt to blink away the possible pink and hazy filter you’re seeing him with, but it doesn’t work. He is just this pretty. He is just this dreamy. He is just soft and soft and soft when his eyelashes flutter above his big, dark irises as he looks at you, when his stained hair frames his face a little too perfectly, when the corners of his lips lift ever the slightest to resemble a smile.

“That’s not how you usually greet me,” he says. “Aren’t you going to give me anything?”

Your heart stirs. “What?” Aren’t you supposed to be the one asking that? He promised to buy you a hundred sun cakes, and you’re pretty sure those won’t fit inside his one suitcase. “Oh. Oh, wait.” You pat around your pockets, only to realize you left all your candy in your bag back with Jiwoong.

“Sorry,” you tell him, feeling a little guilty. “I was in a rush to get down. I wasn’t able to bring any with me.”

Instead of responding with disappointment, Ricky just hums and leans a little closer. “Really?” He suddenly nudges his face into yours, noses bumping, and your eyes widen in surprise. “But you do have something else.”

He’s close. His face is hovering a little too close to yours to be smiling cheekily unaffected like that. You can feel his warm breath on your lips and you’re starting to feel dizzy.

“It smells sweet,” he says and you think— oh. He’s not good for your heart.

Maybe it’s because he’s officially driven you to the breaking point of being crazy, or maybe it’s because the cold has completely frozen all the sane parts of your brain, but the words you’d usually keep tucked between your thoughts and confidentiality suddenly come stumbling out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Do you want to know if it tastes sweet too?”

You gasp after realizing what you just said. You look at Ricky with a face aghast with surprise, jumping back because holy fuck— why did you say that? Why? You’re crazy. You’re stupid. You bite down your bottom lip and taste the dull flavor strawberry mocking the tip of your tongue. You’re insane. You have officially lost it.

If you were Ricky, you’d probably call yourself crazy too, but he doesn’t do that.

Instead, he does something even crazier by taking your offer and pressing his lips against yours.

It doesn’t register that Ricky just kissed you until after the fact, and you’re staring at him with wide, blinking eyes, lips feeling fuzzy, head afloat beyond reach, and him— at an arm’s length away— eyes averted with pink strawberries dusting his cheeks, much like the color slightly glazing his lips, as if he wasn’t the one who just pulled your trigger.

He ran his mouth about taking responsibility the other day.

You’re going to show him responsibility with your mouth.

“S—sorry, that was too sudden, I just— mmph—!”

Two months of pining after him come crashing down the moment you pull him by the collar to finish what he started and god— his lips are softer than you thought, sweeter than you thought, and it’s not just the strawberry lip gloss smudged between your teeth and tongue, melting into what you can only describe as the best fucking kiss in your entire life.

Ricky pulls away to breathe. You chase after his lips once more in a short-winded daze, only to stumble into his chest and he catches you by cupping your face to press another kiss to your mouth. “Ah. This is bad,” he murmurs between barely parted lips. “I don’t think the candy is gonna cut it anymore.”

For a second there, you thought he was gonna say that you’re a bad kisser.

“You should greet me like this from now on.”

YOU WAKE UP THE NEXT MORNING VIA SUFFOCATION FROM THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE AND A TEXT MESSAGE FROM A PESTERING RAT. Blurry eyes and barely conscious, you try to roll over on the bed but physically cannot with how Ricky is squeezing your torso with his arms, his nose buried against your nape as he curls up into you from behind.

You cannot move. You try your darndest to wiggle an arm out because your phone is incessantly buzzing on his bedside table— the only thing from your belongings that you brought with you last night because your haul to the library was left behind with Jiwoong, who’s probably the one texting you right now for ditching him.

When you finally retrieve your phone however, it is not Jiwoong who’s texting you.

It’s Jaeryeong. Squinted eyes read [how could you replace me with a grey-haired twink???] and [don’t even dare try contacting me, bitch] and the first thing you feel is confusion. Then you remember that Jaeryeong is a freak and probably followed you to the library that night, and saw you making out with Ricky in front of a public educational building.

Well. At least that stopped him from bothering you again. The question now is whether or not you should tell Ricky about this.

“I’m going to kill him.”

You do tell him, in between washing his hair in the bathroom to get the remnants of spray stains out of his hair because Jaeryeong’s comment pissed you off. “I’m gonna kill him the moment I see him,” says Ricky with a lovely towel wrap on his head. You’re looking at him through the mirror and the scary face he’s trying to put on is promptly negated by his spa-day look.

“Do you even know what he looks like?” you raise a brow, freeing him from the towel head to reveal a damp mop of light hair. You throw away the muddled towel and grab a fresh one to dry his head.

“I’ll ask Gyuvin,” he says, face covered by the towel, and you snort.

“I think we’ll have a problem with that. I was kind of hoping to keep this secret for now.”

Ricky suddenly throws his head back, causing the towel to fall to the floor and the top of his head bumps into your stomach. “Why?” he asks, upside down, big brown eyes staring right into your soul like a premeditated attack shooting you square in the chest. He can’t pull this move. That’s illegal.

“Be—because Gyuvin is annoying and he won’t let me hear the end of it,” you manage to say. You’re not going to fold. You’re not going to give in. “You know how I turned down that blind date with you right?”

The mention of it prompts a frown to tug on the corners of his mouth and it’s the second onslaught against your heart. “Right,” he huffs, lifting his head up to turn around and face you, looking up with a displeased expression, yet his actions say all but displeasure when he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you towards him so he can lock you in place with his arms around your waist.

“Quit pouting,” you tell him. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. You’re not sure if you’re gonna last a month with him being like this.

“Gyuvin said you thought I was ugly,” he says. “That’s why you said no to the date.”

All the adoration you feel gets extinguished in an instant.

You have never heard a more blasphemous statement your entire life.

“I never said that!” you shriek. “That’s not true at all! I didn’t even know what you looked like until we met for that Hadong trip that day!”

Ricky winces at your sudden volume and you’re quick to simmer it down and apologize by hugging his head to your torso. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you say. “I turned down the date because your best friend has traumatized me with all the previous blind dates he’s tried setting up. Jaeryeong isn’t the only disaster I’ve experienced. Every single guy he’s set me up with has been trash, so I thought you’d be just like the rest too.”

Maybe this isn’t a conversation you should be having in the bathroom of his apartment, but you digress. Ricky unburies his head and looks up at you once more. “So, am I?”

Again. You’re going to fucking eat him one day. “No,” you cup his face. You’re perfect, you’re an angel.” Maybe if you’d given him and Gyuvin a shot that day, then maybe your first meeting wouldn’t have been as awkward— but either way, regardless of the situation, you’re pretty sure you’d still somehow eventually find yourself falling for this loser.

You lean down, ready to dip into a kiss, only to hear an alarming noise outside the bathroom door.

“Ricky! Why didn’t you tell us you were back?!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You’re pretty happy that Ricky is quick to listen to your request because he immediately scrambles to his feet and tells you to stay inside the bathroom for the time being. “Hey, he’s not in his room,” you hear Gyuvin’s voice from outside, followed by Yujin suspecting that Jiwoong lied to them, followed by Gunwook saying that Ricky is definitely around, evidenced by his unmade bed and half-unpacked suitcase.

“I—I think I’d have to lock the door,” he mumbles to you, holding the doorknob and ready to leave. “What if they suddenly barge in?”

“It’s okay. You should go out before they actually barge in while we’re both still in here.”

Cue heavy knocks against the bathroom door. “Ricky! Are you in there?” Ricky grumbles out a swear and quickly slips out of the bathroom, a click on the knob, and you’re officially locked inside your boyfriend’s bathroom within the first twenty four hours of dating him.

Now, this is just great.

You have the privilege of eavesdropping into their reunion through the muffled audio on the other side of the door. “Who were you talking to?” you hear Gunwook ask.

“My...myself…” Ricky answers, and you feel excessively sorry for him so you decide to repent by cleaning up his bathroom. The problem is, even after you’ve finished cleaning, you’re still stuck inside because for some fucking reason, those three have no intentions of leaving.

“Hey, should we order some food?”

“Oh! Sounds good!”

“Let’s watch a movie, I’m bored.”

[ouricky: i’m so sorry they just won’t leave 😭]

You slump to the floor, back sliding down the shower glass. Maybe...maybe this is your karma for turning him down the first time and asking him to hide your relationship. Honestly, you should have known it wouldn’t be easy to keep things hidden from seven pairs of eyes (Jiwoong knows and has sworn secrecy in exchange of being his research lackey). It’s especially difficult considering you’re chronically touch-starved and must always have Ricky Shen around you to hold. So when you have another barbecue dinner at Mattew’s the weekend before your finals, and when Ricky— out of a newly formed habit— tries to greet you with a kiss on the face right in front of his fucking friends, you panic and end up shoving the poor boy, causing him to kiss the floor instead.

Your mouth is wide open. “Oh. Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Hanbin and Hao hear the very distinct thunk and start questioning.

“Why...is he on the ground?” Hao looks down to see Ricky’s half-alarmed, half-confused face as he half-lifts his body off from the floor. Your face is burning. Oh god.

“He’s repenting,” you say through your teeth.

Ricky tries blinking away the shock.“...Yes...I made a mistake.”

You’re going to lock away your strawberry lip gloss from now on. It’s too hazardous. Hanbin tells you that “friends should get along” and asks you to help him set the table, leaving behind Ricky who’s being pulled back to his feet by Hao. When you see Jiwoong, who saw the whole thing, at the table looking at you with an insufferable look on his face, you flip him off.

“Are you in a bad mood today?” asks Hanbin as he passes you a stack of paper plates. “You keep butting heads with the boys.”

You’re speechless. You can’t even defend yourself if you wanted to so you resign to mumbling out a bitter apology and equally bitterly start arranging the plates on the table, much to Jiwoong’s pure and raw amusement.

When you guys start eating, you even make sure not to sit next to him. You are instead sitting next to Gyuvin, and Ricky is sitting in front of him. They’re both bickering over something again— chopstick-fighting against each other over the table while you half-listen to Matthew who’s sitting on your other side, complaining about Prof Shin and her impossible exam coverage as you clean off your plate.

“You took her class last year, right? Which lessons did she focus on?” he asks.

“Review the most recent ones. I think she just took five or six questions from the earlier lessons,” you reply, grabbing a slice of the gyukatsu you bought and heated up as a potluck, and absentmindedly place said slice on Ricky’s plate.

It gets quieter all of a sudden.

Ricky, Gyuvin, and Matthew are all looking at you— one more alarmed than the rest, and the realization drains all the blood out of your face.

“Yujin, you should try this too!” you try to play it off, placing another piece of gyukatsu on Yujin’s plate, who’s sitting right in front of you. And for good measure you do the same to all of the plates within your arms reach, all while swallowing down the desire to bury yourself into a hole, never to emerge ever again.

“Whoa, thanks.”

This whole secret relationship thing is harder than you thought, and Ricky is very visibly sulking that you’re giving away his current favorite dish to just about anyone. Looks like you have a grown man that needs to be coaxed back into affection tonight.

Jiwoong tells you that you should just come clean and stop making it harder for yourself. You firmly refuse because even though you are having a lot of trouble and even though you definitely want to kiss Ricky and his pretty face without the fear of getting walked in on by his friends who don’t know the concept of privacy, this set-up is still better than the bane of your existence, Kim Gyuvin, making fun of you until the day you die.

The said bane of your existence treats you all out to another dinner because he finally got his grade for his community development project. He says you have no choice but to come since you’re the reason he got an A.

It’s an easy dinner. You and Ricky even agreed to arrive at separate times with him tagging along with his hyungs, and you chaperoning the children while waiting for the rest of their arrival at the chinese restaurant. The problem comes when they arrive. Specifically, when Ricky arrives because for some god damned, unplanned reason, he arrives wearing the same distinctly floral-patterned short-sleeved button down you’re wearing.

“Oh.”

He doesn’t even fucking wear florals. Why did he decide to switch up today?

Never had you thought that the day would come where you’d be begging to bring back toxic masculinity, but here you are— mouth agape, aghast, and awkwardly standing from your seat at the round table because the shirts are way too obvious to be left unnoticed.

“Take it off,” you immediately demand. “This is absurd. Take it off and quit copying me.”

“Wow, are you two couple-shirting?” Taerae’s comment stirs a faint blush on Ricky’s cheeks. Why is this idiot blushing?

“I’m sorry to inform you, but Rik wears it better,” says Gyuvin.

You’re thankful that the same-shirt fiasco ended there. You try to ignore Ricky throughout dinner, but god damn it, Gyuvin is right— that shirt does look pretty damn fine tucked into his slacks and framing his broad shoulders like that and it’s making you angry.

Ricky catches you checking him out from across the table and you catch him subtly smirking. Oh, what a psycho. You’re not letting him off.

“I’m going out for a bit,” you announce, standing up quite loudly with how your chair scrapes against the floor. “Need fresh air. Be back in a bit.” Thankfully, they don’t stop you when you retreat to the cluster of grass and trees and plants tucked in one corner of the outside parking lot of the restaurant. When you take out your phone and prepare to send a message, the person you intended to message has already walked into your field of vision.

Ricky leaves the restaurant not long after you did, looking around the lot until his eyes land on your little corner, a sparkle in his eyes, and he jogs his way right over to you.

“Ah. Not today.“

You hold up a hand in front of your face and Ricky’s nose bumps into your palm when he leans in to get a bite of your lips.

He scrunches his face, wincing backward, confused. “You have wronged me tonight, Mr. Shim,” you say, dropping down your hand to complete your cross-armed display of beration. “You should reflect on your actions before trying anything funny.” All Ricky does is blink at you with those pretty brown eyes and no— you’re not going to give in. You’re biting down your tongue very hard so you don’t get swayed by those dangerous weapons (said pair of pretty brown eyes).

Ricky takes a step closer, or maybe he tugs you closer to him because you suddenly feel a pull on the belt loops of your trousers, face hovering just a few inches away from yours, pressing his lips together into a pout as he tries to get you to give in to his whims, but you are immovable. You are a mountain. You are this close to squeezing your eyes shut because he’s making it very hard for you right now to not kiss his stupid face.

When that doesn’t work, he resorts to his other weapon. That is, being sickeningly shameless.

“I didn’t mean to wear the same shirt as you,” he says, voice low. “Should I take it off?”

That’s it.

You hit his chest with a closed fist. “Ow!” Then you use the same hand to grab a fistful of that darned shirt and slam your lips against his because who are you kidding? You are not god’s strongest soldier. If Ricky bats his eyes at you and tells you to jump off a cliff, you might just do it.

When you hear him grunt into your mouth— something snaps. You pull him in deeper, other hand fixed on the back of his neck, the taste of strawberries mixing with spit and short breaths and the only time you’re letting him off is when you get lightheaded from the lack of fucking oxygen.

You pull back with a gasp. Ricky is flushed scarlet and his eyes are out of focus. “Wow, um. Uh.” You wipe off the smudged lip gloss from the edges of his mouth. He looks like he’s about to pass out.

“You two are so fucking disgusting.”

The sudden sound of Taerae’s voice feels like a bullet to the head.

Your face freezes. Your neck creaks, turning to the right, and you see Taerae standing a few feet away from you two, arms crossed with a face wound up in revulsion and sheer judgment and now you feel like the one passing out. You feel five years of your life getting scraped off against a sandpaper bed in real time. You want to fucking die. “H—hyung,” you hear Ricky say. “What—what are you doing here?”

“The guys are wondering where you two went, so I went out to check,” Taerae simply says, scrunching his nose before continuing. “I really did not need to see that.”

You feel the heat running up to your forehead. Oh god. Maybe you should’ve learned your lesson the first time you got caught making out with him in public. “I—” you start, a single syllable falling out of your throat before your mouth completely dries up. What are you even supposed to say in this situation? How do you explain to Taerae that this is not what it looks like— even thought this is exactly what it looks like?

“It’s alright. You don’t have to explain. I knew all this time that you two have a thing.”

“Haha.” You’re sweating. You’re sweating so bad. You feel Ricky squeezing your sweaty hand. God, you’re totally screwed. “What are you talking about, Tae?”

“I heard your conversation in the car on our trip to Hadong like two months ago.”

Well, shit.

“I woke up when Ricky nearly killed us all on the road. You two are the most unsubtle people I’ve ever met. Quit looking surprised. Do I have to mention the way you eyefuck him whenever you’re in the same space? Girl, you’re not fooling anyone.”

You peer at Ricky and he looks a little too happy to hear that. You’re dizzy, you’re nauseous, and you want to sew Taerae’s mouth shut right now. “Does…does anyone else know?” you ask, scared, and you tug Ricky out of your unhelpful corner and start heading back to the restaurant before someone else comes out to look for you.

“Well. I’m not so sure. They’ve never brought it up when you two aren’t around so I don’t think so,” Taerae replies, and you let out a sigh of relief. “I think Gunwook is onto you, but Gyuvin for sure doesn’t know.”

“Oh, thank god.”

Taerae raises a brow. “Why are you even keeping it from him? It’s not like he’s gonna disapprove or get mad. In fact, it’ll be his dream come true since he’s been trying to sell Ricky off since last year.”

The restaurant’s lights get brighter as you walk towards it. “I’m not hiding it because I’m scared he’ll get upset. I’m hiding it because he’s gonna rub it all in my fucking face and I have way too much pride to deal with that, thank you very much.” Ricky laughs. You shoot him a dirty look.

“Okay. I get it,” says Taerae. “You’re not a normal person either. No wonder you get along with everyone.”

“Hyung, that includes you too.”

“I know,” he huffs. You’re in front of the restaurant entrance now, and you make sure to wedge Taerae between you and Ricky for an extra safety layer. “I don’t think doing that is going to help, but whatever. This is none of my business, so you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone that you and Ricky are dating—”

“You and Ricky are dating?!”

Well, shit.

Maybe you’ve been out for too long. Because there’s suddenly seven people right in front of the restaurant doors, probably on their way to look for you, only for you to come walking back and getting absolutely fucked in the ass in the process.

Gyuvin was the one who made the very astute observation. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open in disbelief. You shoot Taerae a look. He presses his lips together and feigns innocence. “Oh. What are you all doing out here?” he says. So much for not telling anybody.

“You!” Gyuvin ignores him to point an accusatory finger at you— “and you!” —doing the same with Ricky as the shock completely penetrates his facial muscles. You swallow, eyes flitting over at Ricky and the both of you share the same guilty look. “What do you mean you’re dating? What?! How?! Since when?!”

Gyuvin throwing a fit aside, what bothers you more is how completely unfazed the other six are— even Yujin. What the hell? Jiwoong is given. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. But why the hell is Matthew looking at Gyuvin like he’s about to laugh? “C’mon, man. They’ve been together since the first barbecue dinner obviously. How could you not notice?” he says, and now you’re just as alarmed as Gyuvin is.

“Seriously?!” your poor friend looks betrayed, but you’re in a state no better than him because what the fuck is Matthew saying? He’s way off the mark but have you seriously been this fucking transparent all this time?

“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure they started dating when we went to the resort,” inserts Hanbin, and you’re absolutely at a loss. “The phone call, disappearing off together like tonight— the hotel room. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on, Gyu.” Hao agrees. Yujin nods and says “why else would you spend three hours just getting ready for a lame event,” and you want to melt into the ground.

You can’t do this anymore. You want to go home.

“No!” Gunwook butts in, refusing to be left out. “They’ve been together since that one night at Gyuvin hyung’s apartment! I bought noona a pack of candy for her cough and Rick immediately got jealous. They even showed up together. I’m telling you. They’ve been together for longer than you all think.”

At this point, you have no idea how to diffuse this situation. They’re all arguing about when or how you and Ricky got together. Jiwoong is laughing his fucking ass off. Taerae is trying his best to act like he’s had no part in this. Gyuvin looks like you’ve just twisted a knife into his back.

“Can...can I say something?”

It’s Ricky who speaks up and puts everything to a halt. They all look at him. You look at him. He clears his throat, slipping past Taerae so he can reclaim his rightful spot next to you, and makes your face flush a thousand degrees when he shyly hooks his pinky finger around yours and says, “You’re all wrong,” he says softly. “It’s only been sixteen days and twenty hours.”

Oh.

It’s quiet. You can’t look at him. You have your face turned down in a heated embarrassment. You physically cannot look at him and everyone else and the fact that none of them are saying anything is making things all the more worse.

Kill me. Just kill me now.

“Hyung, you’re so lame,” Yujin breaks the silence of dread. And just like that, they go on as if nothing just happened.

“Hey, did we split the bill?”

“Oh, Gyuvin paid for it all.”

“I’m riding in Bin hyung’s car!”

“Thanks for the meal! You three get home safe!”

You’re in a daze. These fuckers just gossiped about your ass and called it a day.

You’re not sure if you should be relieved or offended that they didn’t dwell any more on the topic of your relationship. They leave you behind with Gyuvin and Ricky, who’s legally obligated to drive you both home, and it’s so eerily quiet that you want to die. “I’ll—I’ll sit in the back,” you say, oddly reminiscent of your first meeting with Ricky, and Gyuvin simply sits in front without speaking a word to you. You fear he might actually be upset that you didn’t tell him.

Oh no. You make eye contact with Ricky through the rearview mirror as he starts driving. Do something. What should I do? I don’t know! I don’t know what to do either! and you cut your conversation short the moment you hear Gyuvin scratching his throat clear, and you jolt and straighten yourself in your seat like a guilty convict on the way to the station.

You end up not doing or saying anything until you finally reach your apartment. Ricky attempts to get out of the car to walk you to your door, but you stop him with one look because you feel bad enough as is to leave Gyuvin in the car alone. “Thanks. You two get home safe,” you say before shutting the door. The moment you close it, however, the passenger door clicks open in its place.

“Hold on.”

Gyuvin is out of the car, and you stop in your tracks to turn around and face him, pressing down your lips together because god, you feel so fucking bad. He should be making fun of you right now, not looking all serious! He should be gloating and rubbing it in your face that you should’ve just taken his offer!

He’s got his arms crossed and looks disappointed. You see Ricky peeking out from the rolled down window in concern, ready to step in in case things get ugly. “I knew you’d be into him,” Gyuvin finally says. “I told you, he’d be different.”

Wait. Wait a minute.

Suddenly, he’s grinning again. A stupid fucking devious grin and you feel your soul escaping from your body. “Did I scare you?”

Oh no. You’re not dealing with this shit, you’re absolutely not dealing with this shit at all.

“I’m going inside. Good night.”

“You should’ve just taken my offer the first time!”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

“And you should’ve told me you changed your mind. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have had to wait for two months before you started dating him—”

“I’m not listening, I’m not listening!”

“This is what you get for not trusting me!”

“Leave me alone!” you shriek, stomping up to your building entrance while Gyuvin happily chases you down, and you struggle to press the right numbers on the keypad so you hiss out a swear.

“No way. This is too good. I’m telling your mom about this,” he grins. You want to cry. “Oh, and I can take the bus from here. Ricky, come out of hiding and help your girlfriend get inside her building! She looks like she’s having trouble opening the door.”

It’s almost ridiculous how the urge to throw yourself onto Ricky overtakes you the moment he shows up, but you’re not giving Gyuvin another reason to make fun of you until the day you die. You tell Gyuvin to fuck off and he tells you to not have too much fun before finally going away. You’re tired. You’re absolutely tired, and you let out a groan into Ricky’s chest and let yourself sink into his warmth the moment you’re sure Gyuvin has left the premises.

“It’s open,” he says, prompting you to get inside but you don’t budge.

“Your friend is annoying,” you muffle into his shirt— the damned floral shirt that started tonight’s cataclystic mess.

“He’s your friend too.” You let out a grunt. Ricky soothes circles on your back and lets you throw your silent tantrum a little longer. “Gyuvin is right though. You should’ve just said yes the first time— ow!”

Ricky’s appalled confusion when you land a hit on his chest almost makes you feel a little better. The problem is, you did the same thing earlier and pulled him into a scandalous kiss immediately after, so he’s once again staring down at your lips like he’s waiting for it. Holy shit. Your psych class didn’t warn you about this. This is a little insane.

Your powers are too strong. The power of strawberries is too strong. But you’re not thinking straight right now, emotions at a high after the events that unfolded— so you don’t think and give him exactly what he wants, ending the night with the sweet taste of tart, and another breathless exhale brushing over his now swollen lips. “I think I’ve brainwashed you,” you say in between bated breaths. “Maybe it’s not me you like. Maybe it’s the candy and the strawberries. You should cut off on the sweets.”

“That’s not true,” he grunts, pressing in another kiss, pulling away with his teeth grazing your bottom lip with a tug. “I liked you from when Gyuvin told me about you. I like you. I like this.”

Well, that’s one way to drive a woman mad. Gyuvin was right. Maybe you should’ve taken that first chance when you had it, but it doesn’t really matter anymore because either way— you’re certain that the outcome would be the same.

“Oh, what the fuck? Gyuvin just texted.” The door is still still left hanging open, and you’re still pressed up against him when you look down to check your phone. “That son of a bitch— he sent a photo of us just now to the group chat. Is he still here?”

“Leave it.”

Ricky pulls you back when you turn and try to look for the nosy bastard who’s probably snooping around. He tips up your chin. “One more,” he says, leaning in for yet another kiss as if your lips are the candies you always give him in bulk, like he can’t function without it anymore.

“You’re getting greedy,” you say.

“You keep spoiling me,” he mumbles, feeling his lips graze over yours for the nth time. “You make me lose control of myself.”

Whether you met him earlier or later, you’re pretty sure you’d still end up falling horrendously for Ricky Shen. And you’d still end up doing all the same dumb things you did just to get to kiss him like this over and over again.

the psychology of strawberries. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#ricky shen x reader #zb1 ricky x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 x reader #shen quanrui x reader #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone imagines #shen ricky x reader #zb1 x you #zerobaseone x you #ricky shen x you #zb1 scenarios #zb1 fluff

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lazyjellyfish300 · 2 months

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In Between the Bookshelves📚

AU Librarian!Miguel O'Hara x Fem grad student reader

(image isn't mine, found it on Instagram under the account @/ brokenohara and asked for their permission to post it)

Synopsis: a normal trip to the library results in a little bit more than you were expecting when you meet the new librarian on duty. Word count 4.6k

A/N: reposting this new and hopefully improved version of one of my very first Miguel fics I deleted a while back. I tried to make him more awkward and cute🖤🤓. Still not totally confident in the smut but oh well. Writing smut is so hard sometimes? Or maybe my skills have gone down, idk 😫 Hope you enjoy...

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT TOWARDS THE END: FINGERING, ORAL SEX F receiving, Gag(he uses his shirt to muffle your moans) Public sexual activity, talk of anxiety, mention of family troubles and anti-deity/religion language

It's 7:00 pm on a rainy Tuesday night in the middle of October. You just got out of your evening Database Systems class. You can't help but feel poetic as you stroll down the grey, soaked, Manhattan streets twirling your umbrella, hot coffee in a cardboard cup in hand. Your shoulders begin to ache from the thin faux leather straps of your backpack. You're wearing your favorite brown sweater over a short sleeved black dress that hits you mid-thigh, with some holey black tights and your favorite knock-off Doc Martens. Damn, I still need to write that 2 page paper that's due tomorrow..

You decide at the last minute to spend your night at the library. You know you won't get anything done if you go back to your apartment. You spin on your heel and pick up the pace as you head hastily towards the NYIT library in Manhattan.

The library is pretty dead except for a group of three people sitting together in the middle table talking in hushed voices, one woman sitting on the floor scrolling with a laptop, and one jock looking fellow sitting at the computers, cracking his knuckles and bouncing his knee anxiously as he scans his assignment he's typing.

You sit down at the empty table right next to the librarian's desk. Since you're a regular here you recognize Polly, the librarian on duty who is a plump woman who looks to be in her 30s with short curly brown hair, wearing a mustard yellow cardigan and brown corduroy pants tonight. She's stapling papers together and gives you a small nod in acknowledgement as you sit down at the table in front of her desk.

She whispers to you, "I'm actually heading out for the evening, but the new person on duty should be here any minute now if you need any assistance."

You nod, and, speak of the devil, here he comes. You suddenly feel your chest get hot when you lay your eyes on the new librarian.

Tall, dark, and handsome would be the simplest way to define this man's appearance, but that would be a very feeble attempt at doing him justice. Sculpted bicep muscles push against the sleeves of his flannel with the cuffs rolled up halfway on his thick forearms. The flannel is unbuttoned and flaps gently away from his body as he walks, a white t-shirt underneath. He has broad, wide, shoulders and a narrow waist. He's also wearing dark wash athletic jeans and a pair of canvas slip ons. His hair has one stubborn strand in front from his small widow's peak that falls endearingly in the middle of his forehead. His most disarming quality is his eyes. A shade of brown that's earthy and natural like the sediment that decorates stream beds. He wears a stoic expression under large framed glasses.

He nods and mutters a "thank you" to the woman librarian as she shimmies into her coat and leaves. His eyes notice you and latch onto you momentarily. You feel your cheeks grow warm and you turn back to your laptop, unable to resume where you left off, wanting to start a conversation with him but not sure how. After a few painful moments of silence, and a quiet rumble outside from the ongoing rainstorm, you decide to break the ice by telling him your name. He blinks as you tell it to him, and you continue trying to make small talk to try and prod more out of him.

"Have I seen you here before? I come here a lot and I don't think I've met you yet."

"Miguel O'Hara," he answers shortly, but politely. "I'm a grad student. I started working for the university in exchange for assistance with my tuition."

You nod, feeling the heat leave your cheeks a little bit as you realize you could have a normal conversation with this man, and not just be an awkward mess around him the entire time. When he mentions he's a student, you realize you have something in common with him and try to go from there.

"These mid-terms are going to be the death of me. I have just one more paper to turn in then I can finally breathe, thank God..."

Miguel blows a short puff of air out of his nose seemingly in agreement, but doesn't say anything else.

He's quiet. Truth is you are too, and you're stepping way more out of your comfort zone than you normally would. Amazing what a pair of charming brown eyes could do to you.

"Honestly, if I had to work anywhere on campus I'd pick the library too. Seems peaceful with minimal people around, and everyone's required to be quiet by default. The ultimate dream workplace."

Miguel can't figure out why this stranger keeps talking to him, but you brought up a point he feels he needs to clarify.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Most people that come in here are loud and inconsiderate as hell. And there's always that one person who hasn't heard of shocking headphones. Always."

The corner of your mouth raises. "God, that would drive me insane. Being a librarian isn't all it's cracked up to be, huh?"

Miguel shakes his head. "No. More like a glorified adult babysitter who knows where the historical fiction section and restrooms are located, and that's about it. That's literally the only two questions I get asked all day." He turns to look at you more fully, this conversation a slight breath of fresh air, the first chance he's gotten in a while to air out his grievances as the night librarian.

He continues, complaining about the horny couples he's had the misfortune of overhearing get busy on the beanbags in the far corner, and the people who leave random drinks and empty chips bags on the shelves and seem to have forgotten what alphabetical order means when they put books back.

You listen to all of it, nodding your head, and let out a cackle at his expressions he's making with those defined, bushy brows of his. He talks with his hands and it's a little endearing to watch him be so animated. This expressive side you've managed to crack through beneath his solemn exterior.

Miguel feels warmth rise in his body at the sound of your laugh for the first time. It's genuine and hearty, and honestly it's funnier than whatever bad quip he just made and he can't help but feel a little more attracted to you after hearing it. You were a good listener, and he appreciated that a lot about you.

You glance at the windows across the room, nodding in its direction with a remark about the weather, how rainstorms are your favorite. He tells you he loves them as well.

Soon, the others have shifted out of the library and he's now sitting in the chair across from you leaning his chin in his hand, listening to you speak as the rain gently pelts the windows outside.

He finds out you're originally from a smaller town, and you came to New York City for college and to escape your overbearing parents. You're 26 years old and trying to finish this Master's degree after taking one too many semesters off. You tell him about your mom who's a bit of a pushover, and your dad who's kind of an asshole.

He tells you he's 29 and has a younger brother who lives on the other side of the city, and his mom is similar to yours. She's kind but tends to set herself on fire to keep her kids warm. Like you, his dad is also a bit of an ass.

You're both introverted, but you can fake it when you need to, which he appreciates, otherwise he never would have been brave enough to say something to you this evening.

You two share a love of education and coffee. You discuss religion.

"I just don't get it, I'm supposed to love this guy and accept Him into my heart because He died for my sins even though I didn't ask Him to do that? But yet if I break any of His rules I get sent to the Inferno for all of eternity?"

"Sounds like a toxic relationship." Miguel quips as he spins your nearly empty coffee cup across the table absentmindedly.

"Exactly!"

You two talk about love as he shuffled some stray books back to their rightful place.

"C'mon, I know you've had to have dated at least once."

Miguel shakes his head. "Well, I did date a girl in high school. Knew her since the 7th grade. But she pretty much ripped my heart out when I saw her making out with one of my buddies on graduation night. I've had a couple dates here and there since then but that's it."

You click your pen. "Damn, so we both have exes from hell that we dated in high school?"

Miguel nods his head. "It would appear we do. I'm sorry you know the pain and annoyance of adolescent heartbreak too."

You shrug your shoulders. "It happens, y'know? It's like one of those things in life you're just meant to experience. It's like, unavoidable you know? And there's nothing you can do about it. What would you call that? Like not a trope per se, but almost like.... destiny?"

Miguel shrugs in return, "Like a canon event?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Yeah... exactly. How'd you come up with that?"

The ghost of a smirk appears on his face, "Just made sense to me, I guess."

You two sit at the table again and he asks about your childhood and you explain that you suffered from anxiety as long as you can remember and he looks at you with sympathetic eyes.

You do your best to try and ignore what feels like his knee pressing against your calf under the table. The thought of touching him sends heat waves through your body, but you remain frozen in place to send the message you're not opposed to more contact. Miguel feels it too, and deep down his leg is falling asleep with the way it's positioned but he's too nervous to move, either.

You both love the nighttime over mornings, and you show him one of your favorite playlists. He smiles at you tenderly as he holds one of the earphones to his ear.

Soon, it's 10:30 pm and he needs to do his closing duties. Luckily, there weren't any patrons who needed his assistance during his whole shift, proving his point earlier. Before he excuses himself, you two sit in silence for the longest time, both trying to gauge if now's the time to say goodbye to one another, but neither of you wanting to actually be the one who does.

Not sure if it was the absence of any light outside, the late hour, the good conversation you two shared, or a combination of all three, but the ripple of attraction you harbored for him has now washed over you completely and morphed into a formidable wave, threatening to take over your whole body, the darkness of this library and persistence of the ongoing storm outside pushing you closer to him.

He's staring at the corner of your laptop, similar feelings ebbing through him, not sure what's got into him. The art of flirting turned itself into uncharted territory for him a longggg time ago.

He finally decided to look at you but you're already looking at him and he snaps his gaze back down onto the bare table below him, silently cursing in his head as a shade of red fluster rises in his cheeks.

You realize you're going to have to be the one to be brave this time again. "Well, this has been fun...."

Miguel scoffs, starting to bounce his leg under the table. "You say that in the most sarcastic tone known to man."

You return with a scoff of your own, adding a smile, "Well I mean, technically you were working this whole time, isn't that boring?"

Miguel shrugs, the heat in his face returning. "You made it more fun..." The volume in his voice decreasing to a murmur.

You look down as well, your heart fluttering in your chest. You really wanted to kiss him. Or just be closer to him, you don't know why. Of course he was cute as hell but after talking to him for hours, there was no denying a spark had formed. You just didn't know whether one or both of you would make the first move to actually do something about it.

Miguel can't believe that he's actually going to try and attempt to ask you to stay longer with him, but he's going to. Just to hang out some more, maybe keep up that amazing conversation you two were sharing just before this. Completely innocent.

Well, if the way the glow from the desk lamp keeps on making your face look so warm and alluring, he's not sure he'll have the strength to shut down any escapades that ensue later, as long as you're completely up for it, of course.

He inhales "Um...so not sure if you have things to do later or..."

You look at him, pupils widening with anticipation at his pending question.

He goes to say, "I was wondering if you wanted to keep hanging out," but it gets combined with the phrase, "Do you want to stay here a little longer," and the word jumbo that exits his mouth is a little incoherent.

"Was wondering if you were wondering to stay and keep hanging longer out?"

You blink rapidly at his blunder, and he groans, placing his face in his hands.

You immediately feel bad for him, shaking your head and sliding a hesitant hand towards his arm. You stumble over your words too sometimes and it's always fucking humiliating when it happens, so you feel no judgement towards him whatsoever. If anything now he's even more attractive. Every little cute thing about him is just pushing you towards him closer than ever before.

Your fingertips skim across the top of the table and press gently into his forearm. He slowly rolls his head to look at you, his cheek resting in his arms as his eyes look at you from behind his glasses which are slightly askew from the way his face is positioned.

His face is still red, but his heart flutters at your sweet smile. "Sorry, my brain just...takes a dump on me when I try to be smooth sometimes..." Miguel mumbles with a weak chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

You shake your head. "I do the same thing...but to answer your question....yes please..." Your voice becomes quieter at the word "please", an trickle of lust you added on purpose, hoping he's picking up on the vibe you're putting down with the way you're gazing into his eyes, your fingers pressed against his arm, the subtle scoot closer you just made with your chair.

Miguel releases a shaky breath, oh, he's paying attention alright. Damn it all if he doesn't take the leap right now. He decides to ask one more time to be sure, slowing down so he gets it right this time.

"Will....you stay longer, with me?" his voice is low, almost a whisper even though it's only the two of you in his dark library, but it's dripping with seduction. A low rumble from the rain clouds interrupts the pause between his question and your answer.

"Yeah..." you say softly back with double affirmation, a sneaky smile forming on your lips. He flashes a dazzling smile back at you, a woozy feeling in his stomach for what's about to happen in the next few minutes.

He excuses himself and goes back to his desk, typing on his computer, the excitement of having you alone making him just type nonsense for the first few moments, wheeling away some carts to the back and stowing a stray book back where it belongs.

It's now 11 pm. Closing time. Miguel turns off all the lights except for his small desk lamp. The clouds are still rolling and rumbling outside with the wind whistling against the windows. Raindrops are still decorating the street. It's a beautifully dark, sensual scene just for the two of you.

He laces his fingers in between yours and leads you to a dark space in between two large bookshelves. His hand is clammy, and he's a little embarrassed about it on the inside but you squeeze it reassuringly. There was literally nothing he could do at this point to make your crush on him go away. The shelves tower over both of you, even Miguel, who's 6 foot 9.

He leans a hand against the shelf just above and to the right of your head. He accidentally pins a piece of your hair under his hand, making you wince a tiny bit.

"Augh.."

Miguel's eyes dart in alarm to search for what he did that caused you pain and he realizes your hair is trapped under his hand. He pulls it away, shaking his hand and flicking his fingers in an effort to free any of your strands from it. "Goddamit...."

He rolls his head backwards in exasperation at his epic failure of having zero game tonight. You hold onto the flaps of his flannel, making him look at you. "Hey, hey come on...it's okay...."

He finally looks down at you and his lips fall open at your beauty, his heart rate speeding up much more quickly now, and he brings a shaky hand to your face. In his mind, he can't help but realize he's being a huge hypocrite, committing the same sins as his horny patrons of getting busy in the library. But seriously though, at least he had the decency to make sure it was after closing when he was off the clock.

You feel your knees go weak as he brings his other hand to your face, pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. He wets his lips and he leans in pressing his tongue gently in the space he opened in your bottom lip, begging to be let in. You oblige immediately, diving forward into his soft lips, goosebumps appearing on your arms.

Oh fuck....this kiss felt good. He forgot how nice it felt to share intimacy with someone, those feelings that laid dormant for so long rising and nearly bubbling past the surface. It's all coming back to him as he just wills himself to get lost in the warmth of your mouth, the sheer layer of your Chapstick leaving a tasty feeling on his tongue.

You considered yourself decently experienced, but the way his lips move on their own show you he's a force to be reckoned with and you'd be more than happy to sit back and let him handle things...this handsome, geeky, sweet librarian...

The noises you two make as you desperately kiss each other are little shuffles as you bump into the shelf behind you, with an occasional "oh fuck...," from Miguel. Hearing how turned on he's getting causes you to let your first moan escape your lips.

Once he hears it, he needs more. His hands make their way to your ass and hoist you up onto an empty bookshelf ladder and he sets you down on one of the rungs. You grab his shirt in your fists, not tearing your lips away from his.

"Do you care about these?" Miguel says softly, out of breath, his mind running a million miles a minute before his actions can catch up to him, gently pinching the thin material of your tights between his thumb and pointer finger as his palms grip the soft flesh of your outer thighs. You shake your head no, wanting to fuck already.

Then, his hand is in your crotch, ripping a whole right in the middle, tearing away at the fabric concealing your ripe pussy away from him as though it's the cover of a brand new novel. His cold pointer finger hooks behind your panties and pulls it to the side. You gasp loudly as you feel his finger and the cold air hit your soaked heat.

He chuckles, his breaths still coming out in rapid, succession, the baritone hum of his voice only adding to the wetness between your legs.

"Sorry, my hands are cold..." Then you can't believe what's happening when he drops to his knees, spreading you open like a book. His elbows pin your knees against the sides of the ladder, the wood pressing painfully into your kneecaps, but the sensation he gives you next makes you forget about the whole thing.

His tongue glosses over your wet pussy like a finger stroking the edge of a page. His nose tickles the tiny hairs sprouting from it as he takes a deep breath in, the smell of you going straight to his cock. He teases the lips of your pussy for a moment, an agonizing back and forth along the slit...

....back....and..... forth

"God....you're so wet..."

Back.....

"Miguel..." you whimper..

and forth...

"Fuck...." your fingers shake as you ball them into a fist...

before his tongue dips into your wet hole. Your back arches on instinct, making your body lurch forward, accidentally pushing his tongue further into you which he welcomes eagerly by gripping low on your ass to hold you in place.

You shudder and twitch violently, throwing your head back at the insanely divine attention he's injecting between your thighs. Miguel pauses for a moment, tenderly licking the inside of your thigh before sealing it with a kiss as his eyes flicker up to you.

"You okay?...." he whispers.

You release a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding, a slightly empty feeling as the mind numbing pleasure was abruptly switched off.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm okay."

Miguel reassumes his position, tongue fucking you. The soft pad of his tongue fondling the plush walls inside you. He lets out a low groan and he feels you turn to putty in his grasp, his head gently bobbing as his tongue completes lap after lap eating you, enjoying you, savoring you....every drop from that pretty pussy soon seeping out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

Your moans grow louder than they ever have, plucking him from his pussy-drunk state. He stands up in a panic and rips off his flannel, bunching it up as his eyes do a quick scan to make sure you're both still all alone.

"Shhhh.....baby, we need to be quiet.....bite this for me."

His angelic face comes up to look at you, his forehead pressing tenderly against yours and your eyes go half lidded at the sight of your arousal glistening down his chin, shiny on his thick neck from the thin flickers of moonlight that have managed to leak through the darkened windows of the library.

You do as you're told, biting his flannel and he stuffed it hastily in your mouth, making a makeshift gag as your eyes water. His elbows assume their position pinning your thighs back and he's back between them again.

You understand why he made you a gag as he goes directly for your clit this time. You yelp, your sound muffled by the fabric. Your nails dig into his shoulders, two perfect handles while you ride his face. The material of his shirt is thin and you feel every muscle ripple under your palms as he moves to keep fucking you with his mouth.

Your clit throbs to near overstimulation but Miguel doesn't relent. He swirls his tongue with low sighs of appreciation, unable to tear himself away from the wet heaven in front of his face.

His saliva and your slick mix together until it's all the same. The love you're dripping onto him and the love he's licking into you becoming a lewd stream of passion. He groans into your pussy as his bulging cock begs to relieve itself of all the cum built up with tormenting ache.

He decides he wants to watch you cum. He gets up, replacing his tongue with his thumb and his first two fingers, pumping into you with a circular rhythm and easing your clit at a torturous pace.

"On me, baby...." he whispers.

Your eyes struggle to stay open as you look at him, a little unsure of what he said. "Mmmm?...." You ask with a high pitched sigh.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me..." he repeats, his own eyes going half-lidded from the lure of your mouth hanging open. "Fuck...."

He abandons his plan momentarily as he rips his flannel from your mouth to kiss you again. You invade his mouth with your tongue and he mumbles your name again in response. You start to taste yourself and then whimper when you realize the pleasure is beginning to become too much.

"Miguel," you pant. "Baby, it's so much...." your breaths begin to hyperventilate.

Miguel gives a low sigh when you say his name, his cock straining once more when he realized he drew you to say it. He tilts his head at you, his jaw open and curls into a smile when he sees how crazy he's driving you.

"Cum f'me, baby. Wanna watch you while you do..."

You try to look at a spot on the ceiling but Miguel interrupts your concentration when he moves his head to keep himself in your vision. The spiciness of this sexy encounter banishing all fears he had before. No, he won't let you look at anything else when you cum.

He gives a loud grunt and clasps a hand over your mouth, fingers turning white, muffling your cry of sweet release as you squirt all over his flannel, your passion causing a few books to collapse from the shelf.

You shake and start to shiver all over as the sweat you produced during all the action starts to cool. Your hands are tingly and numb. Miguel gives a soft chuckle and presses a soft kiss into your temple with his wet lips and another one on your mouth before he returns his tongue to your thighs, collecting any remaining arousal left behind.

You rest your head back on the ladder rung behind your head, reeling in your come down. He smiles and plants a kiss into your thigh before bidding it farewell, then comes up and hugs you, nestling you in his tantalizing embrace, as he rests his cheek in your hair.

"Thank you..." you murmur, only barely sobering up from your high, his musk and cologne delivering you to a whole new state of intoxication.

He smiles down at you in response and holds your face in both hands, running his thumbs along your cheeks.

"See me tomorrow?"

You practically melt at those big brown eyes of his, glasses still slightly askew and the neck of his wrinkled shirt dampened with his sweat, silently hoping you will.

You beam up at him and nod enthusiastically and he chuckles and plants a line of kisses on your neck as you giggle underneath him. After a few soft hugs and another round of delicate kisses, he walks you to the door. Making you promise you'll call him as soon as you get home as a reluctant compromise at his uneasiness of you walking alone in the dark.

He watches you walk away into the night and doesn't stop until he sees you safely board the bus. He turns around and goes back inside the library, shutting off his desk light with a small click.

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #spotify #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #Spotify

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boldlyvoid · 1 year

Text

Sweet Nothing

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world

Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication

Word Count: 12.6

Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier.

That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope.

Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly.

And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend.

She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea.

“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…”

“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”

“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.”

Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?”

“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—

“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3.

“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?”

“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.”

“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…”

“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.”

“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down.

—

She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment.

She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating.

“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?”

She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him.

“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them.

“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?”

“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.”

“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping.

“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…”

She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.”

“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.”

“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…”

“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.”

“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.

“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.”

“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly.

He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”

“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—

“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.”

“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her.

She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?”

“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?”

“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?”

“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam.

The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?”

“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.”

“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.”

“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…”

She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?”

He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt.

She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.”

“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already.

At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life.

—

He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer.

She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why.

Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.

She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first.

He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before.

When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?”

“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.”

“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?”

“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?”

“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?”

“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell.

“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before.

She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?”

“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?”

She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.”

“It sounded nice when you were humming?”

“It’s embarrassing…”

“What is it?”

She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…”

“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.”

“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?”

He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.”

“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him.

“A few mugs?” He teases right back.

“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard.

He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.”

“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.

“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face.

“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.”

Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it.

With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned.

They said the end is coming,

Everyone's up to something,

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

Outside, they're push and shoving,

You're in the kitchen humming,

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to.

“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them.

She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?”

He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.”

“I’ll probably cry,” she admits.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing.

They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away.

—

His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her.

He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore.

He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now.

He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy.

He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did.

He wanted this to be perfect for her.

All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed.

Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day.

He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”

He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it.

“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares.

She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…”

He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.”

She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.”

“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her.

She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up.

He nods, “is that okay?”

“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.”

“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.

It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too.

When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…”

“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.”

“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?”

“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over.

“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself.

“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them.

She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss.

She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.”

“Okay then.”

—

Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it.

So she does.

She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?”

He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.”

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.”

“Summer job?”

She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.”

“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued.

“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.”

“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”

“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.”

“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.”

“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.”

“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze.

“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”

“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her.

So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?”

He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?”

“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will.

He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right.

He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time.

They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.”

“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away.

Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?”

Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.”

She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.”

“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”

“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”

“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.”

“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.”

“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door.

“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave.

“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.”

“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.”

“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…”

“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”

“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance

“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases.

Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”

The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them.

She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…”

“No way?” She can’t believe it.

He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.”

“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?”

He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.”

She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?”

“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.”

“Wow,” she can’t believe it.

“Sorry—

“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…”

“Really?”

She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?”

“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.”

“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.”

“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.”

“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.”

“Okay,” he follows her instructions.

He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.”

“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”

“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…”

“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?”

He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?”

She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.”

“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”

“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.”

“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.”

“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?”

“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other.

And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special.

“That was amazing—

“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.”

“I don’t plan to?”

She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.”

“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”

“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?”

“In 2013.”

“Have you been single for 10 years?”

He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.”

“Oh.”

“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—

“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.”

“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.”

“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that.

“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.”

She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.”

“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.”

—

He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks.

Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life.

And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now.

When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking.

“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.”

“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…”

“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself.

Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.”

“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?”

“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…”

“How many have you had so far?”

“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”

“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…”

“Boyfriend?”

She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it.

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.”

“Have you—

“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“No?”

She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”

“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.”

“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.”

“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.”

“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.”

“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.”

“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”

“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.”

“I do.”

—

Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them.

She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home.

It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off.

She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed my best friend.”

“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome.

She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now.

His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.”

Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.”

“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.”

She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.”

“Should I go awa—

“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.”

“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…”

“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.”

“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—

She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!”

“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.”

She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.”

“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her.

“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?”

“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?”

“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?”

“When do you want to?” He questions her right back.

She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?”

“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.”

“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.”

“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?”

She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.”

“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?”

She nods, “Extremely.”

He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another.

—

They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to.

And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday.

She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight…

Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.

He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases.

“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?”

She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.”

“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.”

“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?”

“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.”

“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets.

“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?”

He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.”

“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?”

“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her.

They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went.

“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.”

“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.”

“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?”

He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.”

For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes.

“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.”

He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other.

“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.”

“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.”

Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?”

“Only if you’d be mine?”

She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.”

Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder.

“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close.

“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?”

He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.”

The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her.

Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—

“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve.

“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.”

“Why?”

“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it.

“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”

He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.”

“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her.

“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up.

“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his.

They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing.

She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?”

He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.”

She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,” as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time…

She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?”

“Do you want to?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?”

“Special sex?”

“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed.

“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?”

She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.”

He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.”

“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly.

While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?”

“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?”

“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…”

“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…”

“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan.

“Do you like that?”

She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”

“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her.

He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?”

“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,

He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do.

He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly.

“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her.

Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?”

“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her.

“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.

“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream.

“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit.

When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”

“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”

“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.”

“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed.

She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”

She nods, “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp.

“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.”

She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…”

“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust.

The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.

She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.

His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk.

He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—

“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.”

“Yeah?”

She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!”

He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.”

His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?”

“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?”

“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.”

“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees.

She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath.

“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place.

Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.”

His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him.

“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him.

He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?”

“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over.

Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her.

they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.”

taglist:

@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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iinsertblognamee · 8 months

Text

hi sam

summary ― sam and y/n throughout the years

pairing ― sam kerr x reader

warning/s ― fluff

2012

liked by samanthakerr20, alannakennedy and 103 others yn hi sam

view all 21 comments

alannakennedy so anti-social ⤷ yn she begs me to come over and then sits on her phone the whole time

caitlinfoord how much for you to slap her? ⤷ yn i'd do it for free ⤷ samanthakerr20 she slapped me

samanthakerr20 and i have not been ignoring you this whole time ⤷ yn sure sure

samanthakerr20

liked by caitlinfoord, yn and 132 others samanthakerr20 taken by yn

view all 18 comments

yn you are most welcome

emilyvanegmond10 who's the animal next to indi? ⤷ samanthakerr20 ha ha

caitlinfoord what are you two doing up so late? ⤷ yn sorry mum

liked by alannakennedy, samanthakerr20 and 129 others yn go team!

view all 33 comments

mackenziearnold aww cuties ⤷ yn not as cute as us ⤷ mackenziearnold flirt

samanthakerr20 my favourite cheerleader

caitlinfoord send this through ⤷ yn no x ⤷ caitlinfoord samanthakerr20 fix this

alannakennedy she's my cheerleader samanthakerr20 ⤷ samanthakerr20 funny

samanthakerr20

liked by mackenziearnold, yn and 152 others samanthakerr20 lets gooo

view all 38 comments

yn mackenziearnold my favourite ⤷ mackenziearnold hehe making me blush

samanthakerr20 what is this ? yn

caitlinfoord what is wrong with our faces? ⤷ yn what do you think I've been saying for months now?

emilyvanegmond10 proud

2013

liked by caitlinfoord, samanthakerr20 and 142 others yn don't leave your phone unattended around these three

view all 17 comments

emilyvanegmond10 im innocent ⤷ yn you're literally in the photo ⤷ yn can't get more hard-hitting evidence than this

samanthakerr20 who's the cute one in the middle? ⤷ yn where?

mackenziearnold i wouldn't do that to you yn ⤷ yn i love you ⤷ samanthakerr20 hey

samanthakerr20

liked by mackenziearnold, yn and 138 others samanthakerr20 i think she might be onto something

view all 26 comments

yn i am a genius ⤷ samanthakerr20 i wouldn't go that far

alannakennedy hi pretty lady and samanthakerr20 ⤷ yn mwah ⤷ samanthakerr20 why does everyone flirt with you in my comments? ⤷ caitlinfoord she's hot

mackenziearnold take me next time ⤷ yn is that a date? ⤷ samanthakerr20 no

liked by alannakennedy, samanthakerr20 and 105 others yn i met my celebrity crushes !!! (so jealous that sam got to stand next to them)

view all 14 comments

alannakennedy love meeting our fans!

caitlinfoord i am so jealous ⤷ caitlinfoord how'd samanthakerr20 manage to get a photo with them? ⤷ yn she pushed me out of the way... ⤷ caitlinfoord brutal

mackenziearnold next time i want a photo with you ⤷ mackenziearnold maybe even your number ⤷ yn yes please

samanthakerr20 i hate you all ⤷ yn ouch

samanthakerr20

liked by yn, caitlinfoord and 142 others samanthakerr20 happy birthday lovie

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caitlinfoord HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BESTIE yn ⤷ yn I LOVE YOU

alannakennedy happy birthday cutie ⤷ yn hehe thanksss

emilyvanegmond10 happy birthday yn !! ⤷ yn hehe thankss em

mackenziearnold did sam force you into that shirt? ⤷ yn yes... ⤷ mackenziearnold i am so sorry ⤷ mackenziearnold i have your birthday gift in my room, if you wanna join me ⤷ samanthakerr20 stop flirting with my girlfriend

2014

liked by emilyvanegmond10, caitlinfoord and 104 others yn maybe she'll this on her phone?

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caitlinfoord push her

mackenziearnold push her

emilyvanegmond10 push her

alannakennedy push her

yn LATE UPDATE ⤷ yn she saw the post ⤷ yn i pushed her ⤷ yn im now locked in the bathroom ⤷ yn someone help me

samanthakerr20 you can't hide in there forever yn ⤷ yn watch me

samanthakerr20

liked by yn, alannakennedy and 132 others samanthakerr20 why do i like you again?

view all 12 comments

yn cause im pretty ⤷ yn duh

caitlinfoord become a tattoo artist yn ⤷ yn i should aye

alannakennedy do me next ⤷ yn hehe okayyyy ⤷ samanthakerr20 for a tattoo right ⤷ samanthakerr20 right ⤷ alannakennedy if that will make you feel better about it ⤷ alannakennedy than sure

samanthakerr20

liked by caitlinfoord, alannakennedy and 92 others samanthakerr20 just me

view all 7 comments

caitlinfoord call when you can

alannakennedy ❤️

mackenziearnold text me x

2020

samanthakerr20

liked by emilyvanegmond10, caitlinfoord and 36,044 others samanthakerr20 keen

view all 1,937 comments

mackenziearnold blue looks good on you ⤷ samanthakerr20 making me blush ⤷ caitlinfoord red would look so much better

emilyvanegmond10 cheering!

alannakennedy so excited for you sammy

yn liked your post

liked by alannakennedy, samanthakerr20 and 293 others yn spent most of the game teaching her the rules of football

view all 42 comments

yourfriend it's soccer ⤷ yn shutup

yourfriend plus i only went to watch hot girls ⤷ yourfriend sorry not sorry

samanthakerr20 hope you enjoyed the game x

alannakennedy pretty

samkerrnews

liked by 1,289 others samkerrnews "I had an old friend in the crowd today, so I wanted to give her a good show" - Sam to some fans when asked about her celebration after her goal in today's game

view all 28 comments

fan12 old friend... her... okay sam

fan26 jealous knowing that sam has friends that isn't me

fan38 she's so pretty !!

fan57 guys i think i found the friend ⤷ fan57 she's following like half the matildas team and sam ⤷ fan57 and she was at the game today ⤷ fan57 and sam commented on her post ⤷ fan57 her account is yn

samkerrbiggestfan

like by 738 others samkerrbiggestfan guys, i think they used to date??

view all 52 comments

fan12 wot

fan83 that is so cute!!

fan47 gold digger, she comes running back now that sam is getting big

fan39 they seem so cute together

fan31 can we appreciate how small sam is in all of these ??

2021

samanthakerr20

liked by yn, alannakennedy and 192,038 others samanthakerr20 hi yn

view all 3,298 comments

caitlinfoord my parents ⤷ yn hello child ⤷ samanthakerr20 i didn't agree to this

alannakennedy look at you two! ⤷ yn mwah

mackenziearnold i thought you were gonna give us a go yn ⤷ samanthakerr20 never gonna happen ⤷ yn sam don't read this ⤷ yn I'll always be yours mackenziearnold

fan82 so frickin cute!

fan63 im literally in that photo! ⤷ fan63 yn is so sweet ⤷ fan63 she got sam to take a photo with me and my friend ⤷ fan63 and literally let us eat her snacks with her during the game

zeciramusovic but when i do that to yn i get in trouble? ⤷ yn she has such double standards

elliecarpenterr my mums ⤷ yn have you been eating your fruits and veggies? ⤷ samanthakerr20 call us when you get home xx

greiten let me get you one of my jerseys for the next game? ⤷ samanthakerr20 no ⤷ yn awe that would be amazing ⤷ samanthakerr20 no ⤷ yn i could collect the whole team samanthakerr20 ⤷ samanthakerr20 no ⤷ samanthakerr20 kerr is the only name allowed on your back ⤷ yn so possessive ⤷ yn go one further, get me a ring x

2022

yn instagram story

#sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagines #sam kerr imagine #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader

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feelbokkie · 3 months

Text

I am Anti-Romantic, but oh man those little efforts

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: non!idol au, fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: Another year, another Valentine's Day where you can't have a box of chocolate. Or, so you think.

pairing: best friend!minho x gn!reader

warnings: reader has a nut allergy, swearing, mention of food

word count: 2,074

a/n: happy valentine's day (it's still v-day somewhere)

“If you’re hinting at me to buy that for you, just ask,” Minho says suddenly, walking up behind you.

In your hands is a heart-shaped box of chocolate. Like you do every Valentine’s Day, you scanned the ingredients list on the back, hoping to find a safe box to no avail. You let out a quiet groan as you put the box back.

“Or you can buy it yourself since you’re independent and all that.” He suggests.

You turn to your best friend, and roommate, giving him a frustrated look. You can’t help the pout that appears on your face as your lower lip juts out. You don’t even realize you don’t even realize you’re pouting until Minho boops your lower lip.

“You look pitiful right now. How do I make it stop? Do you want me to ask you to be my Valentine or something? Take you out on a date? Help you egg an exes’ house? What?” Minho makes sure to move into your line of sight.

"It's nothing. Let's finish shopping, our frozen things are defrosting." You quietly sigh as you take the shopping cart and start pushing it away from all of the Valentine's candy.

Plop!

Screech!

You freeze as the chocolate box you just put away is sitting on top of the cart. You bite your lower lip as you slowly turn to Minho, quickly losing your patience.

"Minho--"

"What? Those aren't for you. I'm going to eat them while marathoning a new drama tonight. Maybe I'll give you one if you join me." He says nonchalantly, taking over the cart and pushing it towards the checkout.

"Number one, this is why you're single. You can't do cute, romantic things to save your life. At the very least, come back without me later and buy it." You huff, running to catch up to him. "Number two, read the back of the box,"

Minho slows the cart down and picks up the chocolate box, "What do you mean read--Oh,"

You watch as Minho's smile drops as he reads the ingredients of the chocolate box, littered with your allergies. It's the same disappointment you get every time you try to buy yourself a box of candy. If at least one piece of candy doesn't have nuts, it was made in a place that processes them, and that's too much of a risk to take for curiosity.

"No problem, I'll look for a different one." He walks back over the the wall of candy, searching through all of the boxes.

"It's no use, Min. They either have one that has a few chocolates that have nuts in them or they were made in a place that uses nuts. And all the safe ones are too small and taste like ass," You walk over to Minho to pull him away.

"You know what ass tastes like?" He smirks, still looking through the boxes.

"I will hit you in this supermarket in front of all these people," You threaten. "C'mon, let's go. The whole concept of Valentine's Day is a capitalist scam and way overrated anyway. The whole holiday is stupid. I was just curious. It's not that serious."

You tug on Minho's arm, trying to pull him away from the chocolate once again. He wiggles out of your grip and continues to look, waving you off.

"I know, I know you're all big and tough and think relationships are pointless. Now just wait a minute."

You roll your eyes, walking back to the cart and pushing it away from him. "Whatever, meet me at the checkout line when you're done doing the impossible."

About 10 minutes later, you're loading both yours and Minho's groceries on the counter when a defeated Minho walks up behind you. He silently helps you unload the cart, his face scrunched up.

I told you so. You think to yourself. You know better than to say that to his face, especially when he's deep in thought like that. The last time you let an "I told you so" slip he was insufferable for an hour purposely testing your patience and trying to dare you to say it again.

"That's so stupid," Minho mutters under his breath, his eyes trained on the road.

You look up from the receipt as you divide up the groceries so you can send him your half of the money. Your eyes scan the road, searching for whatever caused Minho to break his code of silence. Nothing. The road is quiet and everyone appears to following all of the traffic laws. For once.

"What...are you still on the chocolates? Minho, it doesn't matter, I don't care. I can get chocolate whenever I want. The fact that it's in a heart-shaped box doesn't change the flavor. And it'll be cheaper too."

"I think you do care. That's why you checked the box. Admit it, deep down behind your antiromantic exterior, you want to celebrate Valentine's Day like everyone else. That's why you were looking in the first place."

"S-shut up and take me home." You stutter, taken off guard by Minho's point.

While you have your own, valid hang-ups about Valentine's Day, he's a little bit correct. Growing up, you never got to eat most of the candy you'd bring home from class parties because of your allergies. And your exes would either get you a box of chocolate, disregarding your allergy or just get you flowers and a stuffed animal. Simple things, but you always read those situations as they didn't care enough to pay attention or they couldn't be bothered to even check. In the end, you were right, those relationships didn't last long. In a way, your allergy has become your test for relationships and so far, nobody's passed.

***

You let out a deep sigh as you flop down on the couch, exhausted more than usual after a shift at work. Not like your job doesn't drain you in general, but somehow it sucks more life out of you during the holidays. And Valentine's Day was no exception.

Too many of your coworkers spent the day bragging about what their partners got them or their plans after work. All the communal snacks in the breakroom were heart-shaped themed. Cute, but not worth the risk of possibly going into anaphylactic shock over it. You could have eaten one anyway and got to go home early. But you decided against it in the end.

"I'm going to order some food for dinner! Do you want anything?" You shout into your apartment. You know Minho's home. You saw his bag and keys by the door where he always leaves them when he's home.

You wait a few minutes, hoping to hear some sort of sign that he's awake. You've made the mistake a few times of waking him up from post-work naps, awakening his angry side. Not a fun day.

"I picked us up some dinner on my way home since I had some time to kill!" Minho finally calls out from the kitchen. "I got to go home early, there was a flood."

"Lucky bastard," You mutter under your breath, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Did you cause the flood?"

Minho walks into the living room, setting the takeout bags on the coffee table next to you.

"You couldn't prove it if I did." He smirks before disappearing back into the kitchen.

You sit up now, getting ready to eat. You pull the coffee table as close to the couch as you possibly can so that neither have to lean over too much to reach the food. You grab the remote for the TV, freezing when something catches your eye. A red heart chocolate box, a stuffed cat, and a single tulip.

When did those get there?

You're not sure if they were already there when you got home. They must have been, you just didn't register them when you walked in. You furrow your eyebrows as you try to think. You're almost certain that Minho isn't dating anyone. But still, you're not sure why any of that stuff is sitting in your apartment.

"Why do you always move the table so close to the couch?" Minho whines when he comes back with drinks.

"Did you get into a relationship in the last 24 hours?" You question, taking the drinks from Minho as he climbs over the table to the empty spot next to you.

"I'm not stupid enough to start a relationship the day before a couple holiday. That's something Hyunjin or Jisung would do." He chuckles, taking the remote from the table.

"Then what's this?" You point to the mysterious gift on the table.

"It's for you," He says casually, turning on the TV.

"Me?" You point to yourself in confusion. "From who? A secret admirer?"

"From me, dumbass. Secret admirer...your delusional ass has been spending too much time with Chan hyung." He pulls up the show that you two were watching together last night after dinner.

You stare at the surprise Valentine's gift for a moment, confused. And a little guilty. You did nothing but bring Minho a cup of coffee before you went to work. But you didn't do that because of Valentine's Day, you did that because you wanted to.

You pick up the box and gently flip it over, ready to read the ingredients. Only, the back of the red velvet box is blank.

"Where's the ingredient list?" You question opening the box to at least find the flavor guide only to find the box full of little round chocolates.

"There isn't one," He takes a sip of his drink before unpacking the food.

"Then how am I supposed to know--"

"Don't worry about that," He lays out your utensils in front of you. "I made them so I know they're fine."

You freeze, replaying Minho's words in your head. He made you chocolate? A heart-shaped box of chocolate? With his own two hands? He did? Lee Minho? Your best friend.

"What?" He laughs when he sees the awestruck look on your face, "Y/n, it's no big deal?"

"No big deal? Are you fucking Willy Wonka! What do you mean you made me a box of chocolates?" You ask quickly, slurring your words in excitement.

"Ah, calm down. It was nothing."

You stare at your best friend for a minute, really stare at him. He's wearing one of his old black shirts and a pair of dark grey sweatpants. Both are covered with various, small stains. His bangs are clipped to the top of his, out of his eyes. If you didn't know any better, you would think that he didn't even go to work. That he stayed home, working on the chocolates for you. You know for a fact that he downplays everything, making it seem like everything is easy for him, even if they were really difficult.

"Eat your food and stop gawking at m--Why are you crying?" Minho pauses, his eyes soften as he looks at you. You didn't even know you were crying until Minho pointed it out. Your emotions betraying you as usual.

"Because that's the nicest thing anyone's done for me." You sniffle, still holding onto the box of chocolates.

"Not my fault you date losers." He laughs to himself.

"I'm serious. You...you just...Minho, what the hell??"

"You're welcome, now eat."

Minho's face is as red as the chocolate box as you continue to quietly sniffle and cry. Nobody's made this much trouble for you ever. They treated your allergy as an inconvenience rather than trying to accommodate you. Including your parents.

You sniffle, putting the chocolate box back on the table before finally digging into your food. A smile as wide as the Grand Canyon spreads across your face.

"Don't smile like that, it's unsettling."

"I'm happy, Minho."

"I know, that's what's unsettling."

"Thank you," You say softly.

"You're welcome, now shut up and eat. Sitting here crying over a box of chocolates."

"Careful, Min. People are going to start thinking you're in love with me or something," You tease, taking a sip of your drink.

"So? What if I am?"

The soda goes down the wrong pipe, causing you to choke on it. You're sputtering for air as Minho slaps your back.

"Jesus, I was teasing you back. What is wrong with you?"

"D-don't do that!"

"Where's the fun in that?" He smirks, his hand resting on your back.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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dreamescapeswriting · 1 year

Text

Anti-Romantic ~ SCB

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

PAIRING: Changbin x fem!Reader

GENRE: fluffy, established relationships, teasing changbin for the trailer, cute, funny,

⤜MASTERLIST

The second the trailer dropped Changbin should have known what was going to happen and what the boys were all going to tease him for and he wished he'd been more prepared for it all. Who would have thought the boys would be so ruthless when coming after him for one line in a trailer?

"Seriously, when was the last time you actually did something romantic for Yn?" Minho questioned, all eyes slowly turning to look at you and Changbin since the two of you were curled up together on the armchair. Your mouth ran dry as you tried to think of the last time either of you did something that was overly romantic or even went on a date last. You knew what dating an idol was going to be like, lots of hiding and sneaking around as well as busy nights where the two of you couldn't always be together. None of it had ever bothered you, sure you'd love to go out on more dates or even have some nights together but it was what it was and you weren't going to change that for the world.

"Last month, we went to that animal park-" Changbin tried to defend but the boys were already denying him of it.

"Doesn't count, we were there. When was the last time you took Yn on a date?" Hyunjin battled, Changbin began to stutter over his words his eyes landing on you for some help on this one.

"We went out a few months ago, and he took me to watch my favourite movie..." It wasn't exactly the biggest defence for him but it was proof enough that he actually tried to be romantic with you.

"A movie date isn't exactly romantic though. Has he ever taken you to a candlelit dinner?" Hyunjin questioned, but you shook your head at him not every girl enjoyed candlelit dinners so much.

"Or a walk on the beach?" Chan piped up from the corner of the room, smirking at Changbin who was already glaring in the leader's direction. He was annoyed, surely the leader should have been putting an end to all of this instead of joining in on the teasing. It was supposed to be playful jabs but now it felt like he was being attacked for something out of his control.

"I like the movie date, that was romantic to me." You tried to explain but the boys were shaking their heads at you,

"Come on, Yn deserves to feel special. A date you've crafted just for her," Seungmin said as he stood behind the chair you were seated on, your eyes glanced up to meet Seungmins as he looked at you with a small smile.

"But if Yn says she likes it...Then it's fine," Changbin grumbled, pulling you into his side as he moved to hide his head into your neck kissing your skin softly as you smiled. Your fingers gently ran through his hair as you did your best to silently comfort him in front of the boys.

"I do, it's fine. I don't need big romantic gestures, as long as I have Changbin that's all I need." You promised, placing a kiss gently on the top of Changbin's head.

"But it's also fine if you do want romantic things...Don't just say that to make him feel better," Minho added making you smile and nod your head. Changbin however felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, guilt was beginning to take over his whole body as he thought about it.

Somewhere deep down he knew that the boys were right about it, that he should be taking you out on romantic dates and making you feel special but how was he supposed to do that when he could hardly go out without being recognised or followed.

"I say we put on a movie!" You called out as you climbed out of Changbin's lap in search of the TV remote but Changbin's mind was already on something else, trying to think of something - anything - he could do to make it up to you for being so anti-romantic.

"Changbin, I need to be able to see where I'm going...I can't- OW!" You cried out, bending down to rub your shin after just bashing it into something hard. Changbin had called you over to the dorms and blindfolded you before you even had a chance to walk through the door, only to lead you back into the elevator and told you not to try and peak.

"I can't see," You whimpered as you felt Changbin gently helping you stand back up as he chuckled softly.

"Give me two more seconds," He pleaded, gently moving you to stand in the centre of the rooftop garden, quickly checking you couldn't see before making some last-minute adjustments to his surprise for you. All week long he'd been planning this for you and he hoped it was going to be a grand romantic gesture you would end up enjoying.

"Why are we outside?" You questioned, your teeth chattering together ever so slightly thanks to the chill in the air, something Changbin was going to remedy as soon as it was time.

"You'll see," He mumbled while trying to concentrate on lighting the small fire, smirking as he succeeded without burning anything. He slowly made his way back over to you, standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his breath on your skin,

"Okay....3...2...1," Changin whispered before taking off the blindfold, giving you a second to adjust to where you were and instantly your mouth fell open. The rooftop garden was covered in fairy lights, in front of the fire there was a picnic blanket, pillows and more blankets for you to get wrapped up in. Your heart hammered against your chest as you stared around at everything,

"Changbin, what-" You tried to question what all of this was about but he took your hands into his and rubbed his thumb along your knuckles gently. He'd already planned what he was going to say to you and he wanted to get it all out in the open before you could deny him of it.

"I'm sorry I haven't been the most romantic in our relationship, but from now on I promise I am going to try every chance I get to make things more romantic between us," He smiled up at you, your heart stuttering so much you thought it was going to jump out of your chest and into his hands.

"Changbin, you didn't need to do all of this," You whispered as you felt the tears threatening to spill over. All of this was incredible and you loved it.

"I loved our dates, you didn't need to change for me." You told him as he took your hand and began to lead you in the direction of the picnic, carefully helping you sit down before wrapping you up in a warm blanket.

"I wanted to. I want to be more romantic instead of so anti-romantic," Just as he finished saying it "Anti-Romantic" began to play softly through a speaker making you giggle a little at him shaking your head at how unbelievable he was.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you Seo Changbin," You whispered gently laying a kiss on his cheek before he dragged you closer to him.

"I love you," He breathed out, looking deep into your eyes as you stared back into his completely in awe of how incredible it was to have him part of your life.

"I love you too," You kissed him gently, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and bringing him closer to your body enjoying the feeling of him being so close, the music, the fire...everything.

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#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #seo changbin #changbin #changbin x reader #changbin imagine #changbin imagines #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin imagine #seo changbin imagines

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rooksamoris · 8 days

Text

💞 — 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

💞 — in which you try to unionize the mostro lounge, but the boss, azul, just happens to be your boyfriend.

💞 — azul ashengrotto x reader

💞 — warnings: just a little suggestive, not explicit.

💞 — 1.6k words.

“No, you guys—we need to fight for our rights. By any means necessary,”

Jade and Floyd looked at you in amusement and annoyance, respectively. You could not be seriously trying to unionize the Mostro Lounge. Azul was probably the most pro-capitalist/anti-union guy on campus. He had justified roping you, his beloved, into working overtime with the excuse of “it's for the profit motive, sweetheart” and yet you still stupidly thought you could manage to unionize his establishment? It was cute.

The more sneaky of the twins laughed, politely hiding his grin behind his immaculately gloved hand, “And you plan to do this how?” he asked.

A blush of embarrassment trailed up your neck and to your ears. You had very little experience with grassroots organizing—which meant you were drawing a blank, “Uhm—I don’t know. We… uh… we should make demands and find a cool name for our union,”

“Unions schmunions—let's just not come to work,” whined Floyd.

You shook your head, “We need a union before we try going on strike… uhm, how about ‘Night Raven Labor Organization’? It rhymes and would look good on a flyer,” you suggested, placing your fist in your palm. You were embarrassingly desperate at this point. Your boyfriend was constantly tricking you into working sickeningly long hours for him, claiming it was fine since you guys were dating and he helped you pass alchemy—but still.

Jade was entertained, so he indulged in your theatrics, “Oh, that sounds wonderful. Do not worry yourself over the flyers, I… I will handle that,” he said, purposefully pausing just to watch the suspicion creep into your mind.

Before you could reject him, Floyd stood and lazily draped his arms over your shoulders, “You know, you’re gonna break Azul’s heart, being against him like this,” he said, a sudden toothy grin coming over his features at the thought of what chaos could come from your silly plan, “Standing against your ‘sweet Zuzu’ for the working class,”

You frowned at him, “We–well, something needs to be done, even if it means his feelings are mildly hurt.”

The plan was in motion. You had already gone ahead and spoken with the other employees at the lounge, and while most were apprehensive—fear of Azul was pretty common—some still believed that you could convince your boyfriend to be kinder to his workers. Jade had told you he made flyers, and you were heading over to the lounge to go check them out, and then meet up with the others for the meeting.

But the moment you walked in, Floyd shoved you towards the office with a giddy grin, “Shrimpy’s in trouble…” he whispered.

You stiffened, “Huh? What do you mean? Floyd—”

“Azul wants to talk to you,” he told you, knocking on the office door before scurrying off, leaving you to gulp and adjust your necktie.

Azul opened the door with a suave grin, gently wrapping his arm around you, his hand lingering at the small of your back, “Ah, sweetheart,” he said, affectionately kissing your temple. He pulled you inside, shutting the door with his foot before guiding you towards one of the sofas in his office, “You’re looking as gorgeous as ever,” he added, pouring you a glass of fruit cordial before taking his seat across from you, his hands folded on his cane and his legs crossed.

You always hated how smooth he was, “Ahaha…” he laughed awkwardly, “Uhm… you wanted to talk?”

One of his brows raised, “Do I need an excuse to see my beloved?”

“O–Oh, no, of course not—I just mean—”

His laugh cut you off. Sevens, how you loved that laugh, “You’re so nervous…” he trailed off, his bluish-purple eyes tracing over the ceiling before making their way towards your eyes, a single brow raised.

You were nervous. Hell, this was the most bizarre experience ever. You were unionizing your boyfriend’s establishment—you spent the night in his dorm room, just for you to wake up the next day and have secret meetings with his employees. You were ashamed, but not enough to quit the union. Azul had been abusing his power for too long now. Your lips had parted to speak, but you were cut off when he slammed two papers on the coffee table.

One was a flyer with a pig-like depiction of the bourgeoisie, dressed in a fancy suit and surrounded by money, and the second was the union demands which you were supposed to go over with the other employees today.

“Azul—I… I can explain—”

“How cute.” Azul gently tapped his foot as he watched your face fill with horror at being caught too early, “For a union organizer, you’re pretty disorganized. You trusted Jade with the flyers? The fact that you trusted Jade with anything is just hilarious,” he said, letting his cane lean against the sofa. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

“Listen, Azul…” you started, before he cut you off, with a mere raise of the hand. That bastard Jade—

He cleared his throat before picking up the page of demands, “‘We members of the Night Raven Labor Organization…’ did you come up with the name, love? It’s nice. It rhymes, seems you do pay attention to my marketing rambles. Anyways, ‘We members of the Night Raven Labor Organization are proposing a chance of bargaining before any attempts of protest or striking,’ ooh, look at you, threatening me. How adorable,” he said, grinning at your embarrassed face.

You hid your face behind your hands, groaning softly as your face started to feel extremely hot. You peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers, seeing that smug smile on his face, “Azul… this was a last resort,” you tried to explain, but he only set the page down and stood up again.

It was not like you did anything wrong. He was overworking his employees—he’s lucky you did not go Karl Marx on the guy and encourage the workers to arm themselves against him. When you met his eyes again, he was standing in front of you, gazing down at your seated form with a neutral expression.

He was thinking of how to proceed. On one hand, you were the love of his life, and on the other hand, you were working against him. When he first heard of it, he was hurt, but after some reflection, he knew he could make you give up on this.

With a gloved hand, Azul traced over your face, enjoying the way you looked when you sat in front of him, gazing up as he stood. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb lazily tracing over your bottom lip. His pale skin was covered with a little blush over how your breath hitched, “You wouldn’t want to hurt me, would you?” he asked, leaning closer.

You shook your head as much as you could while in his grasp, “No, Azul… it's just—well, uhm, you know,” he stammered.

He played up a soft frown on his lips, and he felt your eyes trail to the beauty mark beneath his lip, “But, angel… when I saw that you were unionizing behind my back,” he paused, and sighed, brows furrowing slightly. He played you like a fiddle, “I was just so hurt,” he confessed. In reality, Azul did not care enough to be brokenhearted over your union attempts.

“I’m sorry, Azul,” you told him, and you were about to protest again, but he shook his head.

“If you had concerns, you could have just told me,” You bit your tongue, despite how you wanted to tell him that you had tried to complain to him and he put the profit motive above everything else. Instead, you just pouted and nodded to his words. You couldn’t help it. All you wanted to do now was kiss him since he got so close.

Azul’s hand remained on your face as he glanced back at the flyer, “And a fat rich man, angel? Really?”

“I didn’t make the flyers,” you blurted.

His gaze softened. He had you right where he wanted you, nodding to your words to make you relax before he leaned down and kissed your head. And then he bent down a bit to meet your lips, kissing you like you wanted. Azul’s hand slipped from your jaw to your shoulder, while his other hand rested at the backrest of the sofa so that he could lean down.

Your hands immediately darted to grab him closer, tugging on his uniform blazer as your lips parted for breath, “Azul….”

He was blushing too, lips parted as he panted to catch his breath, “I thought I was an evil capitalist—what happened to your union?” he asked, teasing you.

Your brows furrowed softly and just pulled him in again, capturing his lips once again and groaning against his lips as you took the chance to take control, pulling him down on the sofa with you.

Azul’s eyes widened in surprise, his hat slipping off and his glasses nearly joining if he hadn’t held them up in time.

You showed up to the union meeting late, with your clothes all disheveled and your hair a mess.

“My, my,” chuckled Jade, as he took in your appearance with his piercing eyes. He knew that this would all end up like this, with you being too quick to bend to the will of his boss, and his boss being manipulative enough to get you to forget about your ambitious goals.

Floyd frowned, “Does this mean we’re not getting guns to threaten the capitalist class??”

Sevens, what a major fail.

#💖 — amoris writes #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #octavinelle #floyd #floyd leech #jade #jade leech #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #azul ashengrotto x

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olomaya · 1 year

Text

Student Council (Afterschool Activities+)

18 August: This mod has been updated. Please refer to this post for more information before downloading.

12 March: Updated: Thanks to the people that let me know about the missing strings in non-English languages. It's been fixed and you can redownload the MAIN file. I also adjusted the skilling for the student council roles because sometimes it wouldn't stop after Student Council meetings so I fixed that.

7 March Update: PLEASE REDOWNLOAD Hi! Please re-download the "olomaya_StudentCouncil_MAIN" file if you downloaded it already. There was an issue with the milestone tracker so it will reset your Sim whenever you try to canvas for donations. If you have the other files, no need to redownload them, just the "MAIN" one.

I just played TS4 High School Years. The items are really cute but there's about 6 hours of gameplay in the whole pack, lol. But it got me thinking about how I wish we had more child and teen-specific stuff to do in TS3. Like Afterschool Activities which could have been more…active. So I started making a few active afterschool activities for teens. This is the first I'm releasing.

With this mod, your teen can join the Student Council where they can then take on different activities. They can run for office in the council and support school issues to try and make their school a better place. There are 8 different student issues your Sims can try to address, like buying new textbooks or running an anti-bullying campaign. Each one will require your Sim to get a certain number of signatures and raise X amount of funds. If you don’t do so by the deadline all the students will hate you (not really but also, yes). If you are successful, then all the students will get some kind of reward related to the campaign and it will increase your popularity. You can learn about student issues and the like through the Bulletin Board object.

There are 3 different Student Council elected positions you can run for which also have extra perks and each have their own unique interactions they can do as well so they are a bit more personality-based to the role. There's more details in the documentation.

Download here

Credits/Thanks: @bioniczombie for the TS4 HSY Bulletin board object conversion and all their wonderful conversions. Battery TS3 Script Template Creator for making modding easier.

You'll need NRaas Careers in order to load custom afterschool activities and of course, the Generations EP. Let me know if you run into any issues!

Future Updates/Additions: I do want to create some activities for council members to organize, like a beach clean up or school charity events. So that would be the plan for a V2. Also maybe doing a proper animation for the collect signatures interaction. I know TS4 has one, I couldn't get it to load through a social xml. It's a whole thing but yes, I'm aware Sign Autograph is not the ideal animation.

#sims3cc #s3cc download #s3cc #afterschoolactivities #sims 3 mods

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filmofhybe · 6 months

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Hi, requests are open right? Can I request what type of fanboys enha would be for idol!reader?

type of fanboys enhypen would be for idol reader

pairing : ot7! x reader genre : fan x Idol , fluff 400-500 words per member warning : none

a/n: first request in ages!! Keep them coming in would mean a lot! Icl this kinda turned into a send off / fansign typa thing so I hope you don’t mind and enjoy!!

> masterlist of my other works

정원 jungwon

this guy is your biggest fan he just doesn’t show it

unlike your other fans, he’s really respectful which makes you remember him

and he’s cute and somehow always wins a video call or fansign with you

folds everytime you call his nickname that you gave him

“y/nnie can I give you something?”

“of course wonnie!”

hands you the cutest beaded jewelry and plushie ever

“oh my gosh thank you so much wonnie!!”

Would let you win in a hand wrestling contest

he would freak out when he sees you wearing the jewelry he gave you

He would also freak out when he sees you posting the plushies he gave you

Will post about it on weverse and you would thank him in the comments.

Goes even crazier after that

You both are like best friends 😭

He’s fr famous among your fandom

yk how some ppl in some fandom are so well known they get verified on twitter

Yea that’s him 🤭

#dedicationfr

희 승 heeseung

That fan that would cover all your songs (and the successful ones)

Gets shit tons of views on your covers

which you would notice his videos and talk about how talented he is on weverse

Bro freaked out

Probably be posting about it on all his social media for the rest of his life (even facebook)

“YALL SHE NOTICED ME!!”

“Watch me brag about this for the rest of my life”

Would thank you so much for the compliments when he goes to ur fansigns

“Aww no worries heeseung! Your covers are always my favorite! I listen to them everyday! I even subscribed to your channel as well!”

Are you meeting heeseung or is heeseung meeting you rn?

“What’s your dream y/nnie?”

“My dream is to collab with you!”

Luckiest fan on earth honestly cuz you both did a collab a year later

#successfulfanbehavior

박종성 Park Jeongseong

THE ONE WHOSE RICH AND GO CRAZY !!

buy like 40 albums at once just to win a fansign with you😭

AND he would buy like 5 of your concert tickets

Doesn’t matter if your going aboard for your concert

Watch him be there and in the VIP sections as well

Man he really doesn’t care if he spend all his health insurance on you

All he cares is that he sees you and your happy

Always catch him during send offs

You both have the chaotic yet causal talks ever

“Omg jay your here again?”

“Yup! Got another ticket to see you!”

“Your crazy for spending so much!”

“Is worth it when it comes to you.”

would buy you the craziest gifts ever

Branded bags, games , jewelry , plushies etc

Would 100% send you a food truck for good luck during your MV filming or comebacks

You would thank him on weverse cuz you knew is him who would do these type of crazy things

What he’s doing is all of your fanboys biggest dream

#thecrazyrichfan

심재윤 Sim Jaeyun

You can’t tell me he ain’t those funny ass twitter stans

#y/nselfieday 😝

“STOP WHY SHE ATE THIS COMEBACK UP SM?”

Would fight those antis on twitter

“You can’t even talk cuz your face be lopsided and elongated lmao.” - jake

“And what about you? Stop using Google translate for your Korean captions🙄” - anti.

“sis I’m Korean?!”

He will make edits of you and I don’t make the rules on that

“my fav stage of y/n but make it my edit for her xoxo!!”

Would go Borderline excited when he got tickets to your concert

ALWAYS POSTING THE SEND OFF VIDEOS OF YOU

“Y/N TOUCHED MY POLAROID CAMERA IMMA CRY NOW.”

“guys y/n mf knows my twitter. Imma die.”

gets embarrassed when you tell him you know him through his funny tweets and you secretly reads it for positivity

Man could die peacefully after that

#sillybillytwitterstan

성훈 Sunghoon

Another really respectful fan but he’s so shy when it comes to fanboying

More the quiet ones but he would be spotted so easy because of how beautiful he is

Please he stood out the most during your send off

Icl when you saw him you thought you were dreaming a cute fan boy?!?

When you walked over do him his heart stopped. Like omg YOUR MORE GORGEOUS IRL?!

“hi y/n~ can you sign my album please?”

“Of course what’s your name?”

“Sung-sunghoon.”

“Such a cute name for a cute boy!”

Bro your such a flirt💀

He couldn’t handle it and all he did with mumble thank you

“You want a picture as well?”

All he could do was nod and you took a picture of you both tgt

Posted on his social about it and everyone was saying how pretty you both looked

Which made him less shy the next time he saw you

“Omg sunghoon! Hi how are you?”

“I’m good how bout you y/n?”

“I’m good! Glad your less shy now! I was so excited to meet you!!l

He’s the pretty, handsome shy fanboys and will always be😝

#shybuthandsomefanboy

선우 Sunoo

THOSE REALLY HYPER FANS

And those fans who has a shop dedicated to their idols

I mean your kinda hyper so like I get why he would love you

Another chaotic twitter stan but make it weverse

Would pay for your me membership everytime

You would never see him without those little membership tags next to his name on weverse

He would be those fans to say “I love you” mid way while your speaking on stage

You would always react to them with a laugh cuz you find it really funny and cute

His cuteness really captures your attention and he would go insane after you mention about him on your weverse live

“I saw this fanboy during send off, he had pink hair and cute cheeks. Really high pitched voice and he gave me this cute plushie keyring that looks like me. So thank you whoever you are!!”

Knew it was him cuz he was the only fanboy in the crowd with pink hair and was the one who got you that keyring

Would 100% start gifting you clothes for the keyring and you would post about it from time to time

You secretly supports sunoo’s little keyring business after he started selling the one and only y/n keyring

#hypercutiesellerfan

にしむらりき Nishimura Riki

Trend setter fan and secretly hyper fan

We all know how good niki is at dancing so when you drop a new song he danced to it with his own choreography that has gone viral.

LIKE VIRAL VIRAL

and every fam girl of yours was like “omg y/n has a cute fanboy!!” “y/n needs to see this.”

And you did see it and posted about it on weverse as well as Instagram

“Look at him!! He’s so talented!! Time to recreate!!”

NIKI WAS IN HIS PREDEBUT ERA FR LMAO

kicking his feet under the blankets cuz he just got noticed by his idol

Would go insane when you did his dance

Man got to see his dance live as well cuz you performed it during your concert

During send off you can easily tell it was niki in the crowd

“Your the creator of my dance niki right? Your so talented!!”

Are you meeting niki or Is niki meeting you? 2.0

“Haha thank you so much! You did so well as well!!”

You continue to do covers of his dance which makes him go feral everytime

Post about it on insta but behind the screen he’s like :

“She’s about to hire me to be her Choreographer” -niki

“Stop the delusion.” - heeseung

“Watch me.” - niki

Bro predicted his future cuz now half of the your dance is created by him

#trendsetterfan

taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @skepvids @amymyli @in-somnias-world @okjaeminn @nonotwice1 @thinkmyg @blubbfsh

Please comment or reblog to be on the perm taglist :)

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silvervioletvalentine · 1 year

Text

🎸!Rockstar!🎸

Pairing: Charles X Rockstar Cherrie!

Word count: 13k

Summary: in which she’s a rockstar. He’s a fan. And her four year old daughter just wants to find her a new man. Hence plan break in is formed.

When he looked back at the day that started his whole not so 'meet cute' romance , full of not so smooth flirting and more than what should be legally allowed awkwardness , Charles realised that none of it would have ever had taken place if he hadn't had been so careless and forgotten to close his door behind him .

It had been a normal Tuesday , nothing out of the ordinary as he dragged himself out from his comfortable couch and over to the door reluctantly, to pull in his heavy package that had just been delivered to him. A brand new gaming chair that he had been putting off buying, only leaving it the very last second when his old chair had finally snapped underneath his weight and almost broken his back as it sent him flying to the floor in a ungracefully heap while he was live streaming last night.

A incident that he would now never be able to forget , seeing as people would not stop tagging him in the now viral video of him folding in-half like a iron board , topped off with a humiliating girly screech of fear as he did so.

Not his finest moment but also not his worst. Just another humiliation that he was trying to forget , by stuffing his face with a bag of cheesy tortilla's and watching Tik toks to pass the time until his delivery finally arrived.

Dressed in old checkered boxers and an even older faded white shirt that was stained with toothpaste, sweat and paint? His messy hair was sticking up in several directions as he tiredly yawned , putting all of his strength into dragging the heavy box that contained his new chair , out from the hallway and into his apartment instead.

Grunting like a overworked builder as he pushed at it until it began to slide against his wooden floorway and into his front room instead, his front door still wide open as he focused on not folding in half over the heavy box too.

He could hear the faint sound of hammering and then some drilling coming from the apartment opposite his own, a new neighbour that he had yet to meet having moved in a little over a week ago

Now. No doubt still getting settled and getting their things sorted in their home , Charles wondered briefly to who it could be .

Someone with money obviously , he just hoped that it was someone that would leave him alone and let him have his peace. If someone came knocking at his door late at night asking for sugar, he was not going to answer it. Manners be damned.

His friends might have called him anti social, Charles liked to think of himself as...a lover of peace and quiet . He already had a million eyes on him at the track almost every other week , he didn't need any of that forced socialising to follow him back home either.

As soon as that door closed behind him, he returned to being a simple man. Covered in cheesy tortilla dust and questionable stains . That was the way that he liked it . Alone .

He had come to love his me time with himself , no expectations and no need to talk to people that he had absolutely no interest in talking to.

So you could only imagine his shock and absolute horror as he went to turn around and walk back into his hell away to close his front door and found a four year old stood right behind him instead . Like something straight out of a horror movie.

Staring up at him with big bambi eyes and a terrifying smirk on her chubby face , Charles was not proud of the noise that escaped his mouth at the sight of his unexpected guest.

A mix between a loud shriek and a girly scream , jumping almost six feet in the air as he flung his arms around his head in fear . Tripping over his own two feet as he gasped loudly and clung tightly onto the back of his couch to stop himself from falling flat onto his face again.

"What the fuck!" He yelled out in shock, panting loudly as he tried not to have a heart attack right there and then.

Eyes widening in pure shock as he gaped down at the giggling child in front of him, in his own apartment .. grinning like a little devil , leaving him in absolute disbelief.

With two messy pigtails and rosy cheeks , dressed in the cutest cat pyjamas that he had ever seen. The child simply giggled and said "bad word!" While laughing hysterically. Hands linked behind her tiny back as she swung them from side to side , tilting her head up at him cutely.

Charles didn't know if he was hallucinating or having a nightmare. Because the last time he checked , he did not have a child. Certainly not in his apartment either!

Who the hell's child was this?! He cautiously lowered his defensive arms from his face and eyed her warily , clearing his throat awkwardly after a moment of just looking at her in silent disbelief.

His mouth opening and closing several times before he finally managed to splutter out a "who are you?" Not knowing what the hell he was supposed to do or say in this strange situation that he had found himself in.

The kid just beamed up a him , oblivious to the terror that she was causing him.

"I'm star. You look silly." She then proceeded to inform him , looking judgmentally at his stuck up hair and stained shirt, then giving another long glance towards his 3D pig slippers that he had slipped on while getting his door.

Charles frowned down at her in disbelief. Was he getting insulted by a random child in his own home? One that should definitely not be there?! He couldn't believe this.

He looked at his glass of lemonade on the table and wondered if perhaps he had somehow been spiked.

What the hell was in those vitamins that he had taken this morning?!

"And you look like a child that is not mine. Where have you come from?" He tried to sweeten his voice , even bending down to reach her level . Giving her a strained smile as his heart raced in pure panic , his mind running through every terrible scenario possible.

Someone had kidnapped a child and was going to frame him with it. He looked at his package that had his new gaming chair in it. Had she come from there? Was this a new crime going around?! Were children being stuffed in gaming chair boxes in some sick underground crime ring?! Was he about to be swatted?!

He eyed the cute kid in front of him and swallowed nervously , not knowing what to do. Seconds away from a panic attack while she just smiled at him like she wasn't completely scaring the shit out of him.

Star just shrugged her little shoulders at him , not answering his question. Instead she shoved past his crouched self and wandered over to his wall full of pictures and stopped in front of his favourite one.

She looked up at the large golden framed magazine cover that he had blown up years ago when it had first came out , a toothy grin taking over her chubby face as she pointed at it with a giggle.

"Why do you have a picture of mommy on your wall?" The innocent question made him freeze in his place.

The blood draining from his face as he slowly pushed up from his frozen crouched position , turning to gape at star in shock. Frowning deeply as he wondered if he was hearing things now too. Because there was no way that she had just said what he think she said.

She did have a Spanish accent. Maybe it was that.

He looked at the picture she was looking at on his wall. Frowning in complete confusion as the four year old continued to tap at it impatiently.

It was a picture of Cherrie . One of his favourite rockstars in the world. She was a Spanish rockstar that had rose to stardom when she was just eighteen years old. She had been a instant hit all across the globe . In her tight leather and endless hair , her tattoos and her bad attitude. She was a rockstar through and through.

And Charles loved her. Had admired her and had been crushing on her since the first time that he had ever watched a video of her performing live in front of a crowd of thousands of people, looking like a absolute rock goddess as she danced around the stage in tight leather shorts and a tiny studded bra , tattoos littered up her arms and neck. They covered nearly her whole body too , Charles had been hypnotised as he watched her smirk like some sort of siren, looking straight into the camera with her smoky eyes as she sang huskily about ripping out some mans heart just for fun.

It was safe to say that Charles had been hooked ever since. He had listened to every song . Bought every single album. Every single piece of merch that she came out with. He practically lived in one of her tour hoodies from over a year ago when his friends had surprised him with tickets for his birthday, a night that had been the best night of his life so far.

He was obsessed with her . A huge fucking fan, just like everybody else in the world. She was the woman of his dreams.

And the picture on his wall was of cherrie's Rolling Stones cover , of her straddling a Harley bike in tiny studded, denim shorts and a cut up guns n roses shirt. Her curls teased and reaching down to her waist messily, the two steaks of her hair beside her ears coloured a bright Ferrari red. Charles like to dream about that , sighing in awe at the photo every time he passed by it.

He had almost forgotten about the small fact that Cherrie was also a mother of a now four year old. A child that she shared with a famous underground boxer from a fleeting relationship that the two had together years ago.

And apparently said child was in his apartment , staring up at him impatiently as she waited for an answer to why he had a picture of her apparent mother up on his wall.

Charles took a closer look at her cute little features and swallowed thickly , feeling like he could faint.

Same glossy eyes... same dimples and button nose. Even the same mischievous smirk and unruly hair.. same Spanish accent and judgmental side eye.

Yes. He could see it now. There was no mistaking who this child was.

He inhaled sharply "oh my god." Was all he could stutter out fearfully. Hands clutching at his face as he stared down at cherries child in absolute disbelief , heart beating rapidly in his chest.

The four year old just giggled at the look on his face , completely unbothered by his panic.

"We're neighbours. What's your name?" She then asked him. Turning around suddenly and Wandering over to his couch. Climbing up it and making herself comfortable .

Charles stood frozen where he was, blinking at the four year old in disbelief. Not knowing what to do.

"Charles. Er- I think you need to go home. Your mommy will be worried about you." He finally snapped out of his speechlessness enough to form a full sentence to her .

Warily eyeing his still open front door, unable to believe the fact that Cherrie was apparently his new neighbour that he had been avoiding meeting.

If he had known that she was the one moving on their , he would have been the one at her door asking for some sugar. He just couldn't believe this.

And now he had her child walking into his home and making herself comfortable on his couch, picking up his half full bag of cheesy tortillas that he had left. Swinging her feet up and down happily as she munched on them messily , completely unbothered.

Star glanced over at him boredly "mommy was building a cabinet for all of her awards. My mommy wins a lot of those. Why do you have some?" She bluntly said , pointing over at his own shelves of awards curiously . Looking up at him with her big bambi eyes.

Charles crumbled and sighed quietly , scratching at his arm awkwardly as he cautiously eyed her while walking into his kitchen. Grabbing her a bottle of water and a straw too, he quickly uncapped the bottle and shoved the straw into it before handing it to her carefully.

"The tortillas are a little dry. Sip the water so that you don't choke." He advised her gently in concern as he watched the way she was wolfing them down like a starved animal. Crossing his fingers and praying that she didn't have any allergies .

The four year old eyed him "I want fanta. Not water." She told him , unimpressed. Not accepting the water as she looked at him impatiently "and you didn't answer my question." She reminded him crossly.

Charles wondered if her little attitude and short temper was from her rockstar mother or her boxing champion father. He really didn't know who he was more afraid of .

He sighed "well I don't have Fanta. Sorry. And those are trophy's from races that I won." He told her , leaving the bottle of water on the table in front of her instead.

She gasped excitedly "you run really fast?!" She exclaimed looking impressed now at the thought of him being some type of Olympic runner.

Charles laughed at that, shaking his head in amusement . "No. Racing cars. I drive in formula one. Have you heard of that?" He asked her curiously , glancing at his still open door again. Knowing that he needed to work up the guts and courage to knock at their door to inform Cherrie that he had her daughter soon.

This was not at all how he dreamed of meeting her. In his dreams he was confident and smooth, maybe they'd meet after one of her concerts and she'd just look at him and fall in love just like that. Like the movies.

But instead he had harsh reality where he was awkward , terrified and had her sassy little four year old judging him in his own apartment that she had wandered into. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

She let out a disappointed noise, frowning at him. "Oh." She let out making him frown back at her, offended by her lacklustre reaction. "Yeah. Mommy watches it sometimes." She told him.

Charles felt himself light up in excitement , cheeks flushing at the thought of the love of his life watching him race and seeing him on her tv . Oh wow. He grinned . "Really?!"

Star nodded her little head, smirking at him mischievously. "Yeah. She loves Mercedes! She knows Lewis!"

Charles smile dropped. A scowl taking over his face as he pursed his lips disapprovingly . Sniffing "lovely. Just lovely." He muttered with a sigh , that being the wake up call he needed to get his ass across the hall before stars boxer father beat his face in for having his four year old in his apartment without their knowledge.

Charles had heard that Leon was a really nice guy, apparently the exact opposite of what he looked like. But everybody had their limit and Charles quite liked his face the way it was.

So he sighed , terrified and pointed to their apartment. "I'm going to go get your mom. Are you coming?" He looked back at the four year old refusing to get up from his couch in exasperation.

Star just giggled and shook her head, picking up his the remote and putting on cartoon instead.

"No. I like it here." Was all she declared before laying down on his couch, not longer giving him her attention.

Charles just shook his head in disbelief and turned around , rubbing at his face with a long, loud sigh as he hesitantly eyed their closed front door in front of him. Trying to work up the courage to Knock.

"I can do this." He muttered to himself encouragingly , breathing in and out "just be cool. I can be cool. Just say hello and-" his self talk was brought to a abrupt halt as the door in front of him suddenly swung open.

Cherrie pausing from where she had been about to burst out of her foot in a panic , looking at the man in front of her door talking to himself In surprise.

She instantly recognised him and held herself back from instinctively punching him, having worried for a moment that he was some crazy stranger at her door.

"Were you talking to yourself?" She amusedly questioned him. Eyeing his own opened door behind his frozen body and relaxing for a moment, having a good idea to where her naughty daughter had ran off to.

Star had been going on and on about wanting to meet their neighbour since they moved in last week and each time that Cherrie refused her requests to knock at his door to say hello, her four year old grew more and more annoyed at her. Because her child was a Annoyingly curious kid who wouldn't rest until she had dissected the lives and brains of everyone she met.

She was a little gossiper who wanted to know everything about everybody. She was also a little shit who liked to wind people up for the fun of it, just like her mother. She had gotten her mean and sarcastic sense of humour.

Which was why she had lied about her mother's favourite f1 team being Mercedes , knowing fully well their Cherrie loved Ferrari just as much as the next person. She had just wanted to see Charles face when she said it. Unbeknownst to the poor driver that she had set her traps on winding up.

But he didn't need to know that. Yet.

He took one wide eyed look at her pretty face and teasing smirk and choked up, blinking rapidly as he blurted out "I have your child!" Sounding like a complete phsycopath.

Cherrie watched in pure amusement As Charles went bright red in front of her, his panic written across his poor face as he stuttered to correct himself, looking horrified.

"I mean- not like that! That sounded like a ransom threat or something!" He laughed out awkwardly , unable to meet her eyes. "I have definitely not kidnapped her! I promise!-I just- my door and- my chair and -" he was a horrifying mess , unable to even speak.

Cherrie finally took pity on him after a long minute of watching him stammer about doors and chairs and not being a criminal. Giggling a little at how cute he was, she shook her head at him fondly .

"Charles, stop panicking. I had a feeling that she would do this. She's been wanting to meet our new neighbour all week. I guess she decided to break into your place instead of waiting any longer." She said apologetically, patting Charles on the shoulder gently in hopes of calming him down.

He went even redder if it was possible. Gulping at the feeling of her hands on his bare arm, he let out a awkward laugh and scratched at the back of his neck. Brain spinning for something to say and coming up short as he looked at her , stood in front of him in denim shorts and a tight metallica tank top. All of her tattoos proudly on display, her thick and unruly hair piled up ontop of her head in a messy knot.

She looked like a wet dream. Charles still felt like he could faint. Sweat gathering at the back of his neck as he swallowed thickly , trying to shovel up any remaining confidence that he had.

Which was not very much at all.

"Oh . Okay. Well she's on my couch eating cheesy tortillas . she's not allergic to them or anything is she?" He said in slight worry , crossing his arms in front of his chest slowly.

Becoming increasingly aware of how he looked right then. He grimaced in embarrassment as he looked down at himself in his old checkered boxer shorts and stained shirt, pig slippers on his feet. Of all days to look like this... he groaned internally . Pierre was going to have a field day over this when he told him.

Cherrie laughed softly , looking at him with a smile. "No. No. I'm sorry that she's stealing your food and breaking into your home. She just does whatever the hell she wants to I'm afraid." She sighed , reminding herself to scold her mischievous four year old later.

Charles just chuckled "it's okay. She did deny my water though. She wanted Fanta." He told her as he led her into his apartment . Giving a anxious look towards her as she slid past him confidently , not at all phased by the sudden situation that she had found herself In.

"Star baby..." she called over to her daughter with a raise of her brow , crossing her arms over her chest and attempting to give her a stern look despite how amused she felt at the absolute balls her child had.

Star paused with a chocolate in her hand, having ran into the kitchen and broke into his candy stash while Charles was busy embarrassing himself in front of her mother.

Looking like butter wouldn't melt on a stick as she quickly shoved the chocolate into her mouth, smiling innocently up at Cherrie as her cheeks bulged from the chocolate.

She tried to talk with her mouth full "Charles- as-a-ooofff- you-" they could barely make out a word that she was trying to say.

Charles chuckled in amusement , shaking his head in amazement at how confident the four year old was to just invade his kitchen like she owned the place despite having never even met him before today.

Cherrie grimaced at stars lack of manners , shooting Charles a apologetic glance. She tried not to laugh when he blushed and quickly looked away from her as soon as she met his gaze which had already been on her.

So cute. She mentally cooed. Surprised af herself for thinking so.

She usually found herself attracted to the rough around the edges, tattooed and twice her size, looked like they could kill someone and probably had daddy issues , kind of men.

So it was a nice surprise to feel those familiar butterflies fly around her stomach as soon as she glimpsed at his bashful smile , his cheeks a lovely rosy red that would match his car perfectly. Huh. Who would have thought.

Not her, that was for sure. She looked away from him and back to her daughter with a small smile, pushing away the weird and sudden urge that she had felt to give Charles a hug. He just looked so huggable.

What the hell was wrong with her? She found her men fuckable, not huggable! Was this some type of mid twenties crisis that she was entering? Finding men that she would usually not gravitate towards to so yummy all of a sudden?

Oh my god. She inhaled subtly and kept her calm and cool facade. She was the one cool one. The untouchable woman that ate men like him for breakfast.

She fixed her face and reminded herself of the bad bitch that she was.

"What have I told you about talking with your mouth full star? Don't do that please." She told her daughter sternly. Leaning over to wipe the corners of her four year olds mouth with a tissue that she pulled out of her pocket. She was a mother after all. She was always prepared for messes like this.

Charles tried not to grin when the sassy child side eyed him as she swallowed the stolen chocolate messily, her chubby stained cheeks evidence that that was not the only chocolate that she had stolen before they arrived back.

"Charles has your picture on the wall mommy! Look!" She snitched on him immediately, giggling naughtily when Charles face paled, his eyes going wide in embarrassment.

He looked over at a grinning Cherrie in panic, heart racing in his chest as he tried to explain himself quickly.

"Not weirdly! I'm just- I just- I like your music." He blurted out , mortified.

Cherrie looked at the sexy Rolling Stones cover that he had blown up on his wall in amusement , feeling her chest go all gooey. Aww. Someone had a little crush on her. How cute.

She snorted "I don't think it's only my music that you like." She teased him confidently , ever the flirt.

Charles just groaned in embarrassment and covered his burning face with his hands , unable to take it anymore. He wanted the Earth to open up and swallow him whole.

She then walked carefully over to his trophy's and awards , raising a impressed brow as she looked through them all.

Humming quietly to herself "a world champion yet?"

He hesitantly walked over to her, standing by her side as he glanced for a moment over to her daughter to see her sneaking off the couch and running back into his kitchen to steal some more chocolate again.

He shook his head in amusement , hiding a grin as he looked away from the four year old and pretended not to notice her stealing his extremely expensive box of chocolates from Dubai.

"Not yet." He simply answered her. Fiddling with his fingers as he glanced shyly at her.

Cherrie just hummed again, smirking to herself as she looked back at him. "Soon?" She casually asked again.

He laughed softly "hopefully yes. That's the dream"

She patted his shoulder gently as she moved around him to kneel down to his record player instead, starting to thumb throw his records nosily.

Charles could see where her daughter had gotten it from. The both of them confidently going around his home like they owned the place. It made his stomach fuzzy. He wished that he had a inch of that confidence.

Cherrie seemed to agree as she told him "say that with some more confidence in yourself Charles. You'll never win otherwise." Speaking from experience herself. She wasn't a record breaking Grammy winner for no reason.

He slowly nodded his head with a small smile , leaning against the wall behind him as he watched her pull out all three vinyl's of her albums. Holding them in her tattooed hands with a surprised look on her pretty face, she glanced up at him with a soft smile

"You really do like my music huh? Not just my good lucks?" She was surprised. Not picturing Charles as someone that would listen to her type of music.

He laughed bashfully , biting on the inside of his cheek to hold back his starstruck grin.

"Yeah." He breathed out through his laugh, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I already told you that. Your lucks are just a great bonus." He tried to joke, his shyness making him a little quieter than necessary.

But luckily Cherrie was close enough to hear every mumbled word . She grinned up at him, pleasantly surprised by his humour.

"Amen to that!" She laughed as she stood back up, casually walking over to the couch and taking a seat. She laid out the vinyls next to her and picked up the first one.

"Star! Put those chocolates down and have a drink of this water please!" She called over to her daughter without even glancing her way.

Charles chuckled as he watched star freeze with her hands half way in the large chocolate box, sat cross legged on his kitchen floor beside a open cupboard that she had raided.

She frowned and then immediately looked at Charles with a pout , widening her eyes at him and blinking rapidly . "Please-" she started to plead.

Cherrie warned her "Star-"

Charles took one look at the four year olds pouting face and big bambi eyes and crumpled, "it's okay. She can have them. I wasn't going to eat them anyway." He lied. He had payed €500 euro for them, he was saving them for a special day. But this seemed like one anyways.

It wasn't everyday that he got to have his favourite rockstar and her cute daughter in his home.

Star cheered loudly , grinning up at him with one of her teeth missing. Dimples creasing her chubby cheeks. Charles heart melted at the sight.

Cherrie picked up a pen from his table and started to sign the vinyls for him, shaking her head in amusement at how her daughter somehow already managed to have poor Charles wrapped around her tiny finger already.

"Say thank you Star. And get up off the floor please." She muttered to her as she focused on her task in front of her.

Charles silently walked over to the four year old on his kitchen floor . He carefully closed the wide open cabinet beside her and held out his hand to help her up.

Star looked up at him with a cheeky grin , whispering to him hopefully "will you have Fanta next time I come here?"

Charles chuckled , he had to. His heart already giddy at the thought of them coming around again. God. He felt like he was dreaming.

Where had this luck been for him last season? He really could have done with it then. Maybe he would have been a world champion already.

"Okay. But take a sip of the water , yes? It's good to stay hydrated." He told her gently . His heart melting as her small hand slid into his own, gently pulling her off the floor and leading her back over to the couch.

She sighed dramatically as he held onto her hand while she climbed up onto the other couch that was opposite her mother. Passing her the bottle of water carefully , making sure that she didn't spill it.

"Okay but Fanta is hydrating too Charles." She told him straight . Hinting at him not so subtly.

Both he and Cherrie laughed , Cherrie glancing over at him with a smile. "I'm sorry about her. She's got a bit of an attitude. All confidence , no subtlety I'm afraid. Not afraid of anyone or anything." She told him.

Star glanced over to her mother with a identical cheeky smirk to her own. . "Daddy said that it's because I'm just like you."

Cherrie just rolled her eyes fondly "daddy's a idiot. Drink your water." She told her . Then she turned her attention back to a amused Charles with a smile.

She passed him the signed vinyls silently , Charles taking them from her curiously . His smile widening as he glanced down to see her pretty handwriting sprawled across them .

"For my biggest fan." She teased him.

He blushed, laughing sheepishly as he carefully took a seat beside her on the couch. So close that he could smell her vanilla perfume.

"Thank you. I would sign something for you but Star told me that you're a Mercedes fan." He stated. His eyes scanning her pretty face , unable to look away.

He took in her button nose that had two small, silver hoop piercings on the left side. Pouty lips painted a dark red , her dark eyes smoky with dark liner. Makeup perfect as usual.

That picture on his wall was beautiful. But to have her in front of him like this ... to be able to count each freckle on her cheeks and see the creases by her shiny eyes when she smiled.. it simply took his breath away.

She was otherworldly and Charles felt like a giddy schoolboy with a crush, trying not to giggle and blush as she looked at him with a smirk, shaking her pretty head in amusement .

"My daughter likes to wind people up for her own sick amusement." She informed him. A little too proudly. But she couldn't help it.

How many other people had a four year old that was confident , sarcastic and liked to take the piss out of people for fun? Especially a racing driver? She was proud of her little sassy pants . She really was.

Charles was surprised , looking over to a giggling Star with his mouth dropped open. "And did she get that from you too? That was so mean Star!" He exclaimed , laughing.

The four year old simply stuck out her tongue at him, stuffing her face with his chocolates again now that she was finished with the water.

Cherrie just shrugged slyly "maybe. Were you hoping that I'd be a Ferrari fan?" She teased him, nudging his shoulder with her own gently.

Charles breath hitched at the contact, trying to play it cool. He knew that he failed as soon as he saw her little smirk, but he still tried anyways.

"Maybe. Are you not?" He really hoped that she was.

Cherrie messed with him a little, she just couldn't help it when he looked so cute . Looking up at her like she was some kind of goddess. His lips parted not so subtly , barely blinking as he gazed at her with shiny eyes. His cheeks having never lost their red tint since she had arrived.

She was so used to these arrogant and tough men that surrounded her. The type that didn't giggle. Didn't go red just from looking at her. Didn't fluster in her presence. Didn't crumple from just one smile.

It was refreshing to meet Charles and see someone like him, someone who was already so admired and loved by the rest of the world . Ferraris golden boy so clearly crushing on her... it made her heart sing and as she felt those butterflies swarm her chest and she could think was , oh boy. I think I'm falling in love again...

"I could be persuaded." She finally muttered after just gazing at his pretty face for a long moment. Admired his pretty eyes and even prettier smile. God, it should be illegal for a man to look like this. How the hell was she just supposed to get up and go back to her rockstar men now?

The answer was simple. She couldn't . But she wasn't going to give him it that easy. That just wasn't her style.

She could have a little fun with him yet..

With that thought in mind she swiftly got up from the couch and casually patted his head , giving him one last smirk and a mischievous wink that had Charles gaping up at her in awe. Heart racing in his chest at the mere sight of her.

"Come on Star. It's late and we've still got unpacking to do." She held out her hand for her daughter to take. The four year old quickly jumping down from the couch with her stolen chocolate box in her other hand, taking her mommy's hand and grinning toothily at the still frozen Charles happily.

"Bye bye Charlie! I'll bring my teddies tomorrow and we can have a tea party!" She told him loudly . Looking excited as she beamed at him.

Cherrie looked at her daughter and then at Charles with a slight grimace . "Charles is a really busy guy baby.. I don't think that he-" she was about to let her down. Not expecting Charles to want to take time out of his day to play with her crazy little daughter who had already broken into his home today.

But Charles surprised her again. He quickly shook his head and stood up, following them to the door with a warm smile on his lips .

"It's okay! We can play." He smiled at a excited Star softly before looking at Cherrie with wide eyes "if that's okay with you obviously-" he panicked.

Cherrie quickly calmed him down with a giggle, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and swallowing . Unable to believe how kind and nice he was being towards them.

The butterflies turns into a whole damn zoo.

"Are you sure? She can be a lot? And I do have a meeting tomorrow afternoon-"

Charles shook his head with a smile, gently placing his hand on her arm and squeezing softly . "I really don't mind. It'll be fun! I was only going to game anyway! My friend Pierre will be coming over sometime tomorrow too. You can definitely make him Join our tea party." He slyly told the four year old who gasped excitedly, grinning mischievously up at him.

"I'll make him wear a tiara!" She exclaimed. Charles high fiving her quickly.

Cherrie just grinned s the pair of them fondly "okay." She breathed out. Not knowing what to do with these new, sudden feelings she had . "I er- I'll come over with her in the morning then. I can't stay long because of the meeting but her dad will pick her up about four? Is that okay?" She said to him hopefully. Not used to the guys that she liked taking any interest in her daughter too.

Her overconfidence and attitude usually scares them away. They were identical in that sense seeing as guys were usually that way about her too.

Charles tried not to let his fear show at the thought of Stars father , Leon, the same Leon that had knocked out many a man in just one round in the ring. The same Leon that looked absolutely terrifying from what he could remember.

He just kept smiling at her, pushing his intimidating thoughts aside. "Yeah that's okay! Is he-" he hesitated . Glancing at a distracted Star for a moment before looking back at Cherrie "is he okay with me looking after her? I don't want to upset him or anything-" he liked his nose as it was.

Cherrie just waved off his concern with a grin "oh yeah he'll be fine with it! I'll let him know, so don't worry! He's actually a fan of yours . So if anything he'll be excited!" She told him happily .

She then leant in to give him a hug and Charles brain short circuited. His breath hitching in his throat as he hesitantly hugged her back, breathing in her sweet perfume before she pulled away.

She smiled at him and Charles knew then that he was completely and utterly fucked.

"Fanta tomorrow please Charlie!" Star grinned up at him as she suddenly wrapped him up in a hug too, copying her mother. She squeezed him tightly , barely reaching his hips.

His smile softened as he bent down and hugged her back affectionately. Giving her a small squeeze back bedore ruffling her hair softly and pulling away.

By the time they had all said their goodbyes and a impatient star dragged Cherrie away with a demand to play with her dolls, Charles was left in a daze as he slowly closed the door behind him with a star struck sigh.

Unable to believe what the hell had just happened to him. He crossed his fingers over his heart and prayed to whoever was listening that tomorrow went as well as today did too. Maybe he'd find some magical confidence out of nowhere too and ask her out.

A man could dream.

The next morning found Cherrie stood in front of her largest mirror , double checking herself over and over again as she fiddled with her now straightened hair for the hundredth time in a matter of minutes, huffing to herself. Not satisfied at all.

Her four year old daughter was sat at the end of her bed in a poofy , bright red sparkly gown and a obnoxiously large crown on her little head that kept nearly falling off every time she moved around to look at something. Cherrie had tried to convince her to wear something more casual and comfortable, only getting a judgmental look in response.

Star was a spoiled princess and she intended to look like one too. Cherrie supposed that she only had herself to blame for that. She didn't get those diamonds and pretty ball gowns from a ghost after all. She had them custom made for her princess , sparkles and all. She just couldn't help it. She loved her baby .

"Are you nervous to see Charlie again mommy?" Star finally called her out after another few minutes of watching her mother fiddle with her long hair again, unable to remove herself away from the mirror.

Cherrie paused in her faffing , looking over her shoulder at her smirking four year old with narrowed eyes. Sometimes she hated how perceptive Star was .

What kind of four year old could call her out on her bullshit constantly like this? It was unbelievable. Nothing could escape her curious gaze.

"No. Of course not. Mommy doesn't get nervous." She lied as she adjusted her chest in the tight tank top that she was wearing , making sure that she looked good. Wearing some cute ripped denim shorts too, she quickly slid on some beat up Converse as she eyed the time .

Star giggled at her mischievously "you get nervous when you think they're cute. Katie said that you like boys with accents too. Charles had a accent mommy." She told her matter of factly , smugness written across her chubby face.

Cherrie mentally cursed out her gossiping best friend and nosy four years old daughter that had gotten it into her mind that she wanted her mother to have a new boyfriend now .

It was embarrassing, having her toddler basically wingman for her. Star had once walked straight up to a Spanish footballer that she had heard Cherrie giggling about to her friends , she has then proceeded to bluntly tell said footballer that her mother found him 'hot when he was sweaty' and then asked him if 'he had a girlfriend and did he want one because her mommy didn't have a boyfriend either!'.

Cherrie had never been more mortified than she has that night. Dragging her loudmouth daughter away before she could do anymore damage . Calling over her shoulder to the shell shocked footballer that her daughter was crazy and to ignore every single thing that he had just been told.

It was another reason why Cherrie tried to keep Star away from people. She was determined to find her mommy a man, she was insufferable. And Cherrie completely blamed her mother and best friend who never shut up about her still being single.

Every dinner it was the same old 'why haven't you settled down yet?' Along with a confused 'you can have any man you want cherrie! Why are you coming home empty handed again?!'

Quite frankly Cherrie was sick of it. But she hated how much they were right.

She had been single for a long time now and it was... lonely. She missed having somebody to talk about her day with. Someone to cook with , someone to just have fun with. To just come home and cuddle , to just laze around and love without any boundaries.

She missed being in love and she missed someone being in love with her in return.

She may have been this untouchable ice queen to everybody else but she was still human. She just wanted to be adored. She wanted to be wanted so much that they wouldn't even dare to glance at another woman that wasn't her. Was that so bad?

She didn't think so and clearly her daughter didn't either . And Cherrie had a fluttering feeling that Star had locked her eyes onto a new target in her mission to 'get mommy a boyfriend'.

Poor Charles had no idea what he was going to get himself into.

Cherrie smiled at the thought of him, so cute and so pretty . Would it really be so bad to ask him out? Maybe she could invite him over and cook him some dinner. She wondered if he liked pasta, she made some really fucking good pasta. And double chocolate chip cookies too.

Didn't they say that the way to a mans heart was through his stomach? She grabbed a container full of cookies that she had made last night , deciding that it wouldn't hurt to try.

"You need to be really good for him today Star . I mean it! Tone it down on the sass!" She warned her daughter sternly as they walked over to his apartment slowly.

The four year old was holding a large backpack full of her toys in her hands, having packed it herself. She just giggled naughtily "I will mommy! But do you like Charlie? Tell me!" She wanted to know as they both paused outside his door for a moment.

Cherrie just sighed and looked at her in amusement "I think he had pretty eyes and a really nice smile. That enough for you?" She laughed .

Star giggled "you like him! I knew it!" She smugly exclaimed.

Cherrie hushed her quickly "okay! Okay! Keep it to yourself. I can get myself a man on my own okay? Don't be getting involved again!" She warned her as she knocked on the door loudly.

Star just grinned mischievously to herself , not answering her. Refusing to comply. Cherrie just hoped that she wouldn't embarrass her too much, because she did like Charles and despite her cool facade , she wanted him to like her too.

She crossed her fingers and wished for the best.

Pierre was struggling to hold in his snickering as he sat on the couch in charles apartment , watching his best friend talk to Cherrie in the kitchen while her four year old daughter 'unpacked' for their play date.

Or more like he was watching in second hand embarrassment as Charles tried so hard to flirt with the rockstar and failed terribly.

Unable to take his wide eyes away from her as he looked at her hair that was usually so wild and curly , now flat ironed and reaching her hips smoothly, shining underneath the sunlight that streamed through the windows. He was mesmerised.

"Your hair-" he blurted out nervously , grinning at her crookedly . He wanted to compliment her and tell her how good she looked. How her hair frames her face beautifully and highlighted her sharp cheekbones perfectly.

Instead of a compliment though, what came out of his lips sounded more like a accusation "what have you done to it?" Flushing bright right as soon as he heard his own words to himself.

Cherrie paused and frowned at him in confusion , gently running her fingers through her hair that she had spent hours straightening that morning to look good.

"I straightened it? Why? I thought it looked good? It makes me look sexy, no?" Her Spanish accent was thick with confusion. Having expected a 'you look pretty' and not a 'what the hell have you done to your hair?' From him.

Charles waved his hands around his face in panic, spluttering to correct himself . While Pierre tried not to die from laughter in the other room.

"No! I mean- I don't mean no you don't look sexy! I mean yes- you do. You always do- I was just trying to say- your curls- it's different- a GOOD different-" he panicked , tripping over his own words horrifyingly. Wanting to die right then and there.

Even Star sighed loudly at his humiliation , shaking her tiny head at him with disappointment. She looked at Pierre and said "what's wrong with him?" Genuinely curious to why he was behaving like such a fool in front of her mother.

Pierre laughed even harder, grinning widely at the four year old in pure amusement. Oh god. He couldn't wait to tell the rest of their friends about this. This was just too good!

"He's trying to flirt with her and failing terribly." He told her daughter straight. Not expecting her to understand . But she did.

The little child marched straight into the kitchen like a woman on a mission, not stopping until she was stood beside a flustered Charles who slowly looked down at her , mortified .

"Just tell her that she looks pretty idiot!" She slapped at his leg since that was all she could reach, rolling her little eyes at him in exasperation.

Cherrie just laughed while Charles mouth dropped open in shock, looking at the four year old in disbelief.

"Oh my god." Was all he could say. Feeling like he was having a nightmare now. This could not be happening to him.

His flirting was so bad that a toddler had to step in and help him. He wasn't ever going to be able to live this down.

Cherrie grinned at him in amusement , heart melting at the way he couldn't meet her gaze. "You think I look pretty Charles?" She made it easier for him.

He just nodded his head quickly, sighing long and hard. He found the courage to meet her eyes and said quietly "yes. Very much so. You look like a dream. And I love your hair. That was what I was supposed to say."

Pierre snorted "what kind of dream Charles?" He then looked over at Cherrie and grinned slyly "I once heard him say your name in his sleep-"

Charles picked up the closest thing to him, which happened to be a roll of kitchen paper, and threw it at his friend quickly to shut him up. Face burning.

"Okay! Enough of that!" He shouted, clapping his hands together with a nervous laugh. He glanced down at a grinning star again "don't we have a tea party to get to?"

Star gasped excitedly and took ahold of his hand , dragging him into the front room again without any hesitation. Pushing him down to sit on the floor where she had laid out a velvet blanket, she started pulling out her tiny tea set. Taking it very seriously.

Cherrie took the time to wander over to Pierre, watching in amusement as her daughter pulled out a large tiara and plonked it ontop of Charles head.

He adjusted it on his hair , all of his attention on her daughter with a fond smile . "Are we both princesses then? I really like this dress!" He said in a amazement as he looked at her big poofy gown that she was wearing.

Star confidently shook her head, sitting down beside him and handing him a tiny teacup . "No. I'm the queen. You're the princess Charlie! You do as I say. And I say that.." she pulled out a large unicorn teddy and placed it on his lap with a toothy grin "you have to look after sparkly!"

Charles just laughed , shaking his head in amazement. He briefly looked up and met cherries gaze that was already set on him. He gave her a shy smile bedore focusing back on her daughter, getting into his princess roll as she poured him the 'tea'.

"Does Charles like pasta? Wine? Flowers?" Cherrie murmured to Pierre quietly , stomach turning into a whole damn zoo as she watched Charles play with Star without any hesitation. The smile never leaving his face.

Pierre looked at her curiously "pasta, yes. Champagne over wine and flowers.. I don't know. Doesn't everyone like them?" He answered her slowly . Cocking his head at her , still amazed that Charles had somehow managed to have his dream girl in his home like this. "Why?"

Cherrie just shrugged with a small smirk playing on her lips. "Because I'm going to ask him on a date tonight. When I get back from work." She informed him bluntly . "Do you think he'll say yes?"

Pierre looked at her like she was insane "he might pass out before he can say yes! He's in love with you! You have absolutely nothing to worry about . He'd marry you right now if you asked him to. That's how whipped he is!" He whispered to her seriously.

Cherrie grinned , pleased. Then she pushed herself off the couch and got their attention again. "I'm gonna head out. I'll try not to be too long. Are you sure that you're okay looking after her until Leon comes to get her?" She made sure again as she grabbed her purse, ready to leave.

Charles, with a tiara on his head and a tiny teacup in his hand just gave her A grin and a quick thumbs up, nodding his head . "Of course! She's safe with us! Have fun! I'll see you later?" He questioned hopefully . Completely lovestruck by her.

Cherrie giggled and nodded her head, yes. Humming happily "of course! There's cookies in the kitchen Charles . I made them. So enjoy honey." She gave him another quick wink and just like that she was gone.

Leaving Charles to sigh like a fool, grinning widely as he took a pretend drink from his teacup, star reaching over to refill it again with a happy smile on her chubby cheeks.

Ready to play wingman now that her mother had gone. She looked at Charles seriously and asked him bluntly "do you want a girlfriend? 'Cause my mommy doesn't have a boyfriend but she wants one and she said that she thinks you're really pretty and that she likes your smile and accent." She gushed out to him without any hesitation. Snitching on her mother immediately.

Charles just gaped at her in shock, cheeks going pink as he let out a flustered giggle. "Really? She said that?" He couldn't believe it. Neither could Pierre who was shaking his head at his usually so unlucky friend in amazement.

Star just nodded her head "yes she did but a lot of boys like mommy so you better hurry up. You're replaceable." She told him matter of factly before casually moving on.

Pierre burst into hysterical laughter while Charles just blinked over at the four year old in disbelief. Unable to believe what he was hearing.

He felt like he was living in some strange dream that he had conjured up about Cherrie after seeing her on stage for the first time years ago. Where had this type of luck Been all of his life?!

A few hours later and Charles was sat at his kitchen table with a face full of bright pink blush and pink lipstick smeared across his chin, bright blue sparkly eyeshadows across his eyelids alongside a shimmering golden scarf that the four year old had managed to almost strangle his neck with.

Because apparently she had brought her barbie makeup kit in that bag with her too and suddenly halfway through their tea party, Charles found himself getting a makeover by a giggling star who was having the time of her life playing with him.

Pierre was taking a hundred and one photos of his new look as he sat there with his glittery makeup , munching on the cookies that Cherrie had made for him, unbothered by his friends consistent giggles. She was happy and if he had to look like a fucked up, melted Barbie for that to happen. Then so be it.

"These cookies are so good. I can't believe she made me them. She's so sweet. I didn't think she'd be this sweet. She looks so cool and mysterious ya know?" He rambled to Pierre absentmindedly , keeping one eye on the four year old that running around his apartment while loudly singing some Spanish song that he had never heard before. So cute. But so loud.

Pierre smirked over at him in amusement , nodding his head in slight agreement . "Yeah , she does look like the type of woman to break kneecaps and hearts but for some reason, she seems pretty taken with you." He mused , honestly surprised.

He gave him a look "I'm honestly as shocked as you are because you are so not her usual type." He said bluntly. But he was only being honest.

Charles chuckled , looking at him with a hopeful raise of his brow. Scratching lightly at the glitter covering his flushed cheeks . Heart racing in his chest at the thought of Cherrie liking him too.

"Do you really think that I have a chance with her?" He asked Pierre quietly , still feeling like he was in a dream.

So many times he had dreamed of meeting his favourite rockstar and the two of them falling madly in love with each other. But he had never accounted for it ever happening.

They were from two different worlds, two wildly different personalities. Yet here she was. Smiling at him and baking him cookies . Her daughter playing tea parties with him and stealing all of his candy from his kitchen as though it was just another regular Tuesday. He couldn't believe it. He really couldn't.

"I mean.. she's just- a legend. Literally a dream. How do I even woo a woman like that? She Probably eats guys like me for her breakfast. She's just so cool.." he sighed out , taking yet another cookie from the container.

God. She was a amazing baker too. What couldn't she do?

Pierre laughed lightly and simply shrugged at him "I think that you just need to keep being yourself because for some reason she seems to like that. So.." he said "you must be doing something right." And he was right.

Before Charles could answer him, there was a loud knock at the door that had them all freezing. Even Pierre looking a little scared as they realised who it must be.

"That'll be Leon. Oh my god." Pierre muttered nervously "did you see the last boxing match he did? Broke the guys jaw in half mate!" He unhelpfully said to his anxious friend.

Charles inhaled shakily as he hesitated before jumping out of his seat at the sound of another hard knock. His heart almost jumping out of his chest in fear.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously "what do I say?" He whisper shouted to Pierre as he slowly walked to the door, dreading every step.

Pierre was as panicked as he was, shrugging helplessly "hello maybe?"

Charles just give him a glare. Taking in a deep breath and gathering all over his courage before finally swinging open his front door.

"Hello!" He blurted out as his neck tilted up and up.. and up. His eyes widening as he was met with a six foot two beast of man looking down at him .

Arms as big as tree trunks, the muscles almost bulging out is his clothes as he stood there in tight leather pants and a band tshirt, man bun and scruffy beard and all. Covered from head to toe in tattoos just like Cherrie was, more than double his size in , well, everything .

Charles wondered if this was what his murderer would look like . He swallowed thickly as his throat ran dry, unable to do anything but blink up at her ex boyfriend and baby daddy fearfully. Heart racing in his chest.

Oh my god. He thought weakly to himself. Neck still tipt painfully back as he looked up thin. This guy was fucking huge!

Then he grinned down at Charles , voice deep and gruff as he said casually "Charles Leclerc! So good to meet you! How are you man?!" As he clapped him on his back happily. His threatening image immediately dissolving into nothing but friendliness.

Charles exhaled loudly in relief when he didn't immediately punch him , moving aside to let the beast like man in. "I'm-I'm good yeah! Star wanted me to be a princess so.." he chuckled nervously as he gestured to his glitter filled face that was coated horrendously in the cheap makeup.

Leon just laughed and patted his back again, almost sending him into the wall from how strong he was. Pierre was looking at them with wide eyes , his head snapping between the comical sight in front of him.

Charles looked like a tiny mouse compared to this guy. He tried not to laugh at how terrified his best friend looked as he gazed up at Leon , utterly speechless and not knowing what to do or say.

"Sounds like star. Although I must say.." Leon chuckled casually "you make a better race driver than a princess." Before Star came running over to her dad quickly at the sound of his voice.

Beaming as she ran into his arms and gave him a hug, Leon bending down to her height as he gave her kisses and told her how much he missed her.

Charles softened at the sight , realising that Cherrie was right. Despite his terrifying appearance, he seemed to be a really nice guy. He felt himself relax a little in his presence before the four year old menace opened her big mouth again.

"Charlie is going to be mommy's new boyfriend daddy!" She exclaimed happily to her father as she pulled away. Looking very proud of herself.

Charles paled white , eyes going wide in panic as he looked between the grinning four year old and her monster of a father who could snap him in half like a twig if he wanted to.

"No!er- that's not- that's not true! Nothing like that has happened . I promise! Not a boyfriend!" He stammered out, terrified.

Star just grinned mischievously at him "yet." She added with a naughty giggle . Enjoying every single second of panic that she caused him.

Pierre was back to hysterically laughing, leaning his hand out to give the girl a proud high five. Enjoying this far too much.

Charles just stood there , frozen , speechless, as he looked helplessly at her ex boyfriend beside him. Hoping that he wasn't about to get his nose rearranged from this.

Luckily for him, Leon was a good guy. Seeing his panicked and pale face, he let out a chuckle and told him casually . "I know. Cherrie told me on the phone. She sounded like she likes you. Never heard so many ways to say that somebody has nice eyes before." Smirking at him in amusement as he leaned against the wall behind him with his big arms crossed over his chest comfortably.

Momentarily forgetting his paralysing fear, he smiled sheepishly . "Really? She talked to you about me? What did she say?" He mumbled shyly , heart reading in his chest.

And Leon realised then that Cherrie really wasn't kidding when she told him what a sweet and nice guy Charles was. How different he was to her usual type of assholes and cunts that she dated.

He felt himself relax and smile easier. Knowing that his baby mama and his daughter were gonna be in safe hands.

This guy couldn't hurt a fly! Leon decided them that he liked Charles , he decided to help him out the best that he could as well.

"Just about how nice you were . Different than the guys back home. I've seen you drive. You're really cool. But I assumed that you'd be a arrogant asshole, you have every right to be one. Ferrari's golden boy." He chuckled, friendly , not meaning it badly.

"But you seem like a good guy . And that's what Cherrie needs. I was getting sick of breaking those assholes jaws every time they fucked her over. I don't want to go to jail again but ya know.." he casually told him as he picked up one of her cookies to eat.

Pierre's and Charles small , shocked "jail again?" Going unheard. They exchanged a glance , Charles taking a small step away from Leon just to be safe.

"Oh. Well..I can promise you that I won't treat her badly. I really like her. She's just- she scares me a little honestly." That was an understatement "I didn't think that she would like me." He muttered honestly . Still unable to believe his luck.

Leon just laughed "yeah. She acts all tough and she can be a mega bitch sometimes but she's amazing really! She'll keep you on your toes!" He winked at him . "Too good for a man like me. But you?" He looked at him consideringly "yeah. I think you might just be what she needs. Her mama is gonna love you. You better get ready for the rest of her crazy family to never leave you alone if you get together! Two of her brothers are in jail but they're great guys! Her father used to be a underground fighter too!" He proudly told them. His accent thick.

Pierre looked at him with a gaping mouth "have you all just spent casual time in jail then?" He muttered in shock at how casually he was speaking about it as though it was nothing. Poor Charles didn't know whether to laugh or faint.

Leon looked at him with a blinding smile "of course! It builds great character. But Cherrie is too pretty for jail so maybe you can calm her down and keep her safe ah?" He looked at Charles pointedly . Liking him for her.

He patted his shoulder again as he picked up star in his arms, the four year old tiredly yawning as she cuddled into his huge arms. Her crown sat sideways on her tiny head.

"Now I'm gonna go. Get the princess some real food and a nap I think." He told them kindly "Cherrie should be back soon. So.." he looked at Charles with a nice smile "don't look so scared! Make a move! You'll be surprised. She's a real softy inside!" He told him encouragingly before leaving .

Star waving at them tiredly , Blowing them air kisses over his shoulder as they left . Charles and Pierre waving at her with small smiles on their faces, utterly speechless .

Then they were alone. There was a long pause of shocked silence before Pierre finally broke it and said in disbelief "I can't believe that you got her baby daddy's approval to make a move on her!"

Charles blinked rapidly , just as shocked as he was. "I know! He had to duck to fit underneath the door mate! He was so big. I was shitting myself!" He admitted to him with wide eyes. Needing to take a seat again after that. His heart slowly beginning to calm down again.

Pierre laughed loudly in agreement "right! I can't believe it! You've got to be the luckiest man in the world right now! What's the game plan?" He asked him curiously.

Charles just looked at him helplessly , utterly lost. "I don't have one." He muttered honestly , still in shock. "I'm just gonna wing it and hope for the best." He said after a moment .

Pierre snorted in pure amusement "well let's hope it goes well then because I would not want to piss off a guy that huge! Especially when her family all like to take vacations in jail apparently!"

Charles didn't know that his face could pale any further. But it turns out, it was possible.

By the time that Cherrie finally arrived later that night , Charles had worked himself up into a sweat. Nervously wringing his fingers together as he opened his door slowly , a tired but smiling rockstar greeting him happily.

"How was she? Was she good for you? Not too much trouble?" She questioned him with a grin as she looked at his makeup and glitter covered face in amusement . Shaking her head in humour. But also adoration that Charles had actually let her daughter do this to him without any complaint .

Charles laughed softly and smiled back at her , unable to take his eyes off her. She looked beautiful when she smiled. Her eyes lit up too.

"She was very good! Very demanding." He laughed fondly "could definitely be a real queen with that attitude. She's super funny too." He said honestly. Having had a lot of fun playing with the four year old all day.

Cherrie took a smaller step closer to him subtly , smiling at him softly . "That's good then. I'm glad she had fun. Have you eaten?" She asked him, a plan already formed in her mind.

Charles laughed a little, shifting anxiously on his feet as he wondered how he could ask her out without making even more a fool out of himself .

"Er just your cookies. They were amazing. I loved them." He praised her with a grin.

She grinned back at him happily "yeah? I'm glad. You'll probably like my cooking then. How's pesto pasta sound? With some homemade brownies for desert.." she carefully wrapped her arms around his neck, smirking at the look of startlement on his face from her sudden touch.

"And a side of me too if you're good ?"

Charles didn't know where he found the confidence to mumble "that sounds like a full course meal." To her quietly .

Utterly Awestruck by her as he hesitantly placed his hands at the dip of her waist , barely breathing as their eyes locked together . The air around them quickly changing to something more..promising.

Don't faint. Don't faint . Don't faint. Please don't faint. He mentally chanted to himself over and over again.

She smirked at him slyly, gently pulling at the small hairs at the nape of his neck. Enjoying the way he let out a shuddering breath from her touch.

"Charles.." she whispered to him as she slowly lowered her face to his, giving him time to pull away if he wanted to.

He just let his eyes flutter closed as their noses gently nudged together, exhaling shakily against her lips as his heart hammered away quickly in his chest.

"Yes?" He breathed out against her lips, hands clenching around her waist nervously. Just wanting to kiss her and never let her go again.

"Do you want do go on a date with me tonight? At my place?" She asked him quietly before quickly adding "after I've kissed you of course?"

He couldn't have nodded his head any quicker if he tried. Making her laugh lightly at the desperation written across his face as he swallowed thickly and muttered a small "yes please."

That being all it took before Cherrie finally closed the gap between them and kissed him softly , pressing their lips together as she pulled him in close. One arm around his neck and the other one sliding around his waist to keep him steady as she felt his knees almost buckle beneath him from her kiss.

Moaning into her mouth quietly as he melted into her body, hand coming up to cup her jaw gently as she deepened the kiss, parting his lips with her tongue as he shuddered against her, goosebumps littering his skin as he felt her nails scratch lightly at his neck as she kissed him like he had always dreamed of being kissed.

She was the one in control. His rockstar.

"Fuck." He breathed out shakily as she pulled away for only a moment to let him breath again.

His head falling back against the wall behind him as she move her lips down to his neck, kissing her way down his jaw and below his ear, softly sucking and leaving her mark on him as he panted breathlessly , his face flushed red before he stuttered out a quiet "do you want me to bring a bottle of champagne for our dinner?" Excited for their little dinner date even when she was kissing him.

She breathed out a giggle against his neck at his nervous words, pulling away to look up at him with a soft smirk tugging at her swollen lips. Shaking her head fondly at him as she intertwined their fingers together and led him quickly over to her apartment instead .

"Later." She simply answered him as she pulled him through her door and into her home swiftly .

Looking over her shoulder at his wide eyes glued to her , her smirk deepening slyly .

"want to see my bed?" She suggestively asked him. Already heading down the hall towards her room, knowing what his answer would be.

Charles felt like he was in heaven. And suddenly he became a track star as he sprinted after her as quickly as he possibly could, almost tripping over his own two feet in excitement as she beckoned him into her room with a sultry bend of her finger and a promising smirk on her face.

"Yes! Oh my god, yes!" He fumbled out with a nervous but giddy laugh as she pushed him down onto her ridiculously large bed with just one hard push.

His back landing against her mattress with a thud as the air was taken out from beneath him, gazing up at her with dark , but wide eyes. More turned on than he had ever been in his entire life.

"I'm going to fall in love with you." He felt the need to tell her seriously . Needing her to know that this wouldn't be just some casual hook up to him. She was all he had ever dreamed of. Literally.

There was no way that he could let her go now. He was absolutely fucked as soon as her four year old had broke into his home and stolen all of his chocolates for herself.

He had a overwhelming feeling then that this was it for him.

She just smirked down at him as she slowly crawled upon his body, straddling his hips as she lowered her lips against his trembling mouth again. Watching his throat Bob as he swallowed nervously, his eyes never leaving her own as his chest heaved from both nerves and excitement for what was about to come.

"Good. Because I think I'm gonna fall in love with you too." Was all she breathed out against his lips with a soft smile before closing the gap between them again and kissing him passionately , hands and tongues exploring every inch of skin that they could reach .

His dazed moans getting lost against her mouth along with their clothes as she got down to giving him a night that he had only ever dreamed of happening.

And to think that this never would have happened if his gaming chair hadn't had finally broken and send him folding himself in half, forcing him to buy a new one.

He really needed to to thank that little mischievous , four year old the next time she came for a tea party too. Because if she hadn't had broken into his home and stolen all of his chocolates , he wouldn't have met the love of his life like this either .

He was literally living his dream.

She was his rockstar now.

#f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 fic #f1 oneshot #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc oneshot

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