#I can’t believe I haven’t wrote a fic for him

[gojonanami]

also happy birthday to everyone’s favorite curse kissing sorcerer, yuta okkotsu!!!

[keen-li]

Merry!Ex-mas.

18+ MDNI

22.k words synopsis: you get a notification about plane tickets you purchased about a trip you were excited for, only reason you're not excited at the remainder, is because you had planned the trip with your now ex. At the time you never thought you'd be spending December broken up. So, it felt like a great idea. not so much now. ex!jk x ex!femreader (fem anatomy.) exes to lovers use of 'yn' warnings: angst, fluff, smut: long-distance relationship, exes, second chance, miscommunication, b*tches is awkward, tension, one bed, forced proximity, Jungkook isn't crazy rich but he's got good money, i think he's an accountant, jk has that short ceo hair cut. reader has communication problem, jungkook's freaking green sweater needs it's own fanfic!, think are!you!sure jungkook. protective!jk, there's a creep who approaches reader as jungkook is off skiing, and whilst she's in the sauna(nothing bad happens.), sweet!wants!to!try!jk, jk has issues of not communicating too. they just can't seem to talk. avoiding stuff. teasing. touchy!jk, secret glances. jealousy, reader is very jealous,they're lying to themsleves, jungkook loves to take pictures especially of reader. hot tub jungkook who's looking up at you like you're a goddes. very needy kissing, boob sucking, dirty talking, oral(f!receiving.), handjob, cowgirl, protected!penetration, aftercare. hand kissing. [i don't know what else i need to add, let me know] as per usual, it was edited but if there are any errors, forgive me. A/N: this fic is honestly cause of that Jungkook green sweater I've never travelled to please don't come at me if anything is wrong. I very much world built some things. I've given written from top to bottom so don't except a part 2, unless maybe drabble requests. I wrote this in one week and i'm so proud i was able to write 22k words, in that time. though i was supposed to go up on the 25th[shhhhhh] A/N: i'm still learning how to write smut. so if you think the smut is cringe please don't tell me :) i don't wanna know. unless you want to help me improve it, and you do it kindly, i'd appreciate. likes, reblog, and all positive asks and comments are always appreciated. i hope you're happy with this one. [read under the cut]

You get the notification as you're scrolling through your phone. A remainder of sorts that you had been forgetting something. Cause you had been.

It loomed over you all week. The lingering feeling of remembering what you can’t. You hated it. But now that you know it’s source you couldn’t feel any worse.

Being the recipient of the message, you’re burdened with having to translate the message. Why do you have to do this? Broken up, having to text him feels like opening a can of worms. But the tickets are non-refundable, and it would be unfair for you to not inform him. You did both pay for them, Jungkook of course paying more because he was just too stubborn to split. he'd actually wanted to pay for the full thing but you were at odds with the idea. he settled eventually.

So, it would be unfair to not tell him. Right? Yes. But you don’t want to believe it.

Even if how the hell are you going to remind your ex about the holiday trip you planned thinking you’d be together for; but in turn would celebrate separately. Before the notification of the trip.

To add on, now you have to open your chat. An action you dread to do; for your emotional health.

What are you actually going to say? You think, finger hovering over the keyboard. Something that won’t make you sound like you’ve missed him, were thinking about him or even thinking about going on this trip with him. All which you’ve been doing. You’ve succumb to the thoughts, only because you two broke up in October, still relatively early to just forget a 3-year relationship with someone you thought you’d marry.

Sigh.

You still haven’t answered the question of how you’re even gonna bring it up. Will he even answer?

“shibal” jimin laughs into the speaker, not helping you one bit. “you two are ridiculous.”

You roll your eyes still waiting and hoping he’ll say something sensible. It’s all in vain. “How the hell do you book a trip and break up just before. You couldn’t wait?” He laughs and you just know he’s sat at his computer playing games, from his loud and unfocused speech.

“We didn’t freaking know we’d breakup.” You justify. “Plus, cause of the breakup we forgot. I forgot.” Your voice loses its strength at the end of the sentence, your mind slipping into a deep thought.

You haven’t been able to remember anything of relevance since that day. Maybe only how to breath and live but you’d say your body takes full credit for that.

“Hmm.” is all he says to you before screaming obscenities to someone in his game.

“Jimin are you gonna be of any help or wh-”

“You know what you should do?”

You want to believe his following statement will be of use, but you can never be certain.

“Just send it” he groans from what you assume is an attack on him. Your brow raises. “Send him a screenshot of the notification. If he doesn’t respond go on it on your own.”

“Or take me with you” he whispers. If it came to it, would you even choose jimin to go with? Probably. He’d help make it fun.

You sigh, still in the darkest of analysis. It’s your best option what else could you say. So, you say your goodbye to jimin who is quick to go off to his game, without a second thought. Rude. Talking to him whilst he’s on his game is setting yourself up.

Back to having a staring contest with your phone. And after a long while of panic, thump fidgeting and dry eyes, you click on his contact (yes you still have it.) and just send the screenshot.

As you wait to make sure the picture is sent you catch a glimpse of the last text from your chat. You were avoiding slipping up and seeing it, but your eyes couldn’t be helped.

Jungkook was the last to text.

Kookie<3: I miss you call me back.

Seeing the text makes your stomach churn. Makes your head spin with all the memories and emotions returning. You don’t want to linger on it. You’re quick to just sending the screenshot like jimin said, you only hope he doesn’t ask too many questions. If he does respond. The little thought in your head surfaces. What if he wants nothing to do with you. What if you’re bothering him? You shouldn’t have sent that text. But it’s too late now.

You’re well aware his message was sent before you had broken up. The only reason you hadn’t replied was because you couldn’t. On the same day you’d called him back and told him how you didn’t think you’d be able to do it anymore.

“Mm?” he hums confused. You can hear it in his voice and it only makes you even more nervous to repeat.

“This long-distance thing isn’t working for us jungkook.” You bite you lower lip hoping to hide some of your emotions that threaten to ruin your speech. Your fingers fidget in the silence waiting for his response. But it never comes and for a moment you think he’s cut the call and you’ve been talking to yourself. That’s when he sighs, showing you, he’s been listening but too shocked to speak.

You calling his full name, no nickname, strains at his heart. “Are you serious?” it’s calm, sad even. Of course he’s sad, you’re breaking up with him. Sad isn’t even strong enough to describe what he’s feeling. Shock is just amongst them, maybe even a little anger. You’ve been going through a challenging period because of the difference in cities. But he never thought it’d come to this. Was it that bad?

“Yeah.” It’s weak defeated. You are, your whole relationship is.

Jungkook is awfully silent, he’s not sure why either. “Is there anything I can do?” he’s aware of the only solution available. But it’s not possible. Neither of your work will allow the other to move.

You shake your head like he can see it. but he doesn’t need to see what your silence has already said.

After not much thought cause he’s not able to, he speaks. “Is this what you want?” his question only serves to add to your confusion.

“You know it’s not but- “you try to speak but the lump in your throat chokes you.

It hurts him that this is happening over a call. Wishes he could’ve spoken about it in person, cause there’s more to it.

More that you haven’t spoken about. Never have, and doubt you ever will or want to.

All this just makes the idea of this trip even more worrying. That’s if he’ll want to go or even respond. You never got to know what he thought but you assume he has some sort of resentment for the way you ended things. You would too. That’s one of the things you feel guilty for.

You’ll say the way things ended was not ideal, and honestly it never made you feel good as you thought it would. It made you feel worse actually. But at least now you don’t argue because you don’t talk. Who are you kidding, you miss the arguments, something to remind he was there.

Guilt hovers but, you console yourself by saying that he probably wanted it too if he didn’t try to fight for it. Which is unfair, but what else can you tell yourself as an excuse.

Your focus is now on your screen. You’re about to exit the chat, but then those familiar popups of bubbles appear. Already?

The bubbles disappear and appear, which only serves to grow your anxiety. Is he about to rebuke you for texting him. Gosh, what the hell would you say after that? He’s about to cuss you out. Suddenly your room feels too small to hold you and what you’re feeling.

But what pops up is even more anxiety inducing.

Kookie<3: I’m in town. We should meet and talk tomorrow.

Why does he sound so professional? Why do you care. Oh- your mind, it’s spinning.

He’s in town, when? Why didn’t he tell you. This would be the first time you see him in a year since he moved. And he couldn’t even just tell you he was in town. The reason to him being here is not unknown to you. It’s the Christmas season and his parents do live in the same city as you. And just like you they were not happy about they’re son moving so far away. But nothing was stopping jungkook. Nothing.

You’re probably not important to him anymore but, couldn’t he have just said, hi. I’m in town. How long has he even been here for? You never thought he’d return to the city even for the holidays.

You shake the thoughts out of your head. You can’t be over thinking this.

We?......meet?.....talk?.....TOMORROW!              

Tomorrow couldn’t come any faster (not that you were excited for it.). It’s almost as though it wants you and jungkook to meet.

You both agreed to meet at one of the small restaurants near your place. One you two frequented together, so it holds so much for you. Which only made you more anxious on your way.

When you walked in your eyes unconsciously moved to the table you and jungkook loved to seat at. It was good distance from the kitchen so your food could reach you quicker, and far from others so that jungkook could lean in and say the nastiest thing on earth. It always made you blush even though you’d swat at him. You spot jungkook sat where he usually sat. Coat taken off and hanged on his chair.

 “Hey.” You choke out smiling politely as you reach the table and take off your coat, the inside of the restaurant too warm to be comfortable with it on.

You take a sit and allow your body to get accustomed to the environment. And jungkook.

He’s quick to respond to your greeting just as awkward.

When you’re settled you finally get a chance to see just how much he’s changed in a year. The warm light from the ceiling softens his features which would normally be sharp in the dim lights of your bedroom. His hair is cut short. Last time you saw him it was neck length, but now it’s significantly short. Makes him look professional, mature. You like it, really like it. you wish you could just reach over and touch it, it’d probably be just as soft as you remember it and smell like lavender. You notice how he has it styled and gelled back so you doubt he’d be happy with you running your hands in it.

Jungkook spent an ungodly amount of time trying to get it to look like this, which he doesn’t think is perfect enough, but he was running out of time. Something about this meeting had him wanting to go out. He just hopes you like it. he remembers you last saw it when it was longer. It was a big cut, but after your breakup, he felt like giving up the length, considering your hands loved to live in his hair.

You sit hand in lap waiting for your mouth to catch up with how fast your brain is working. Though if you did speak what your brain was thinking, you’d embarrass yourself.

“We should order first.” He says rolling up the sleeves of his navy-blue denim shirt. The action reminding of the inks on his arm. A detail that adds to how attractive he is already. You’re really hating yourself for your thoughts. In your defence you haven’t seen him in the flesh for a year. “What do you wanna get?” he picks up his menu and you do too, stuttering in your movement. He seems calmer than you right now.

But the only thing is that he’s shitting himself inside. when he was sat before you came, his heart dropped every time he heard the door bells chime. Every time he turned it wasn’t you. Only increasing his nervousness. Maybe he was a little to forward with his message. You haven’t seen each other in a while and it’d probably be overwhelming, especially with a certain elephant in the room. He would’ve definitely understood if you didn’t want to show. On the chime of the door that followed his thoughts, he didn’t turn, only for it to be you. In your full glory, making him fidget with his phone more. Which he put aside immediately you sat down.

Clearing your throat you speak, “something soup-y. Today’s a little cold.” And you don’t feel like throwing up what you eat.

Jungkook agrees and his red nose is evidence of that. Cute, you think.

After your orders are taken you turn back to silence. What could you probably say right now? You can feel the distance between you emotionally. And you hate how this is how you are after not seeing each other for a year. Before breaking up you thought of the many ways, you’d hug him once you got to see him. You were definitely delusional over how serious your distance was. Really wanting to believe it wouldn’t be a problem; until it became one, and you just couldn’t do it anymore.

You don’t know how to behave right now.

“So, when did you get back?” you settle on a soft and casual tone.

“Just yesterday.” He speaks sounding a little hesitant. After not knowing where to look you decide to just look at one thing. The table.

After beats of silence, you continue. Can your food come any faster? “you’re staying with your parents?”

“Yeah.”

You lived together, in your used to be shared apartment before he decided to move. So, his only option was to live with his parents for the mean time. He assumed you wouldn’t want or even let him live with you. And it would be fair, you aren’t together anymore.

“I’m Sure they were shocked to see how much you’ve change.” Cause you are. You haven’t seen his parents in the same time that he hasn’t seen them.

“It was a surprise drop in so I’m sure they were” he says with weak chuckle. He bites into his lip before he’s looking at you again, but you don’t stare at him. It’s only when you realize his stare that you finally face him. “How have you been? You look well.” He’s dreading himself right now for not being able to speak to someone who has been, for 3 years, the only person he could speak to.

You do look good, and he can’t take his mind off it. the camera has not been doing you justice. Your skin looks brighter and you generally are just glowing. Gosh he missed looking at you. The way small dainty jewellery serves to compliment your outfit. Your hair done in a way you like, and he loves.

“I try.” You smile. Every chance you get you take a glace at his lip piercing. You’d forgotten just how it made him even the more--. “You look well too. How’s the job going?”

He sucks in a breath, showing visible stress at the thought of his job. “it’s going okay. Easiest way to put it.” he chuckles, awkwardly. You smile, awkwardly too. “I missed it here though, so much stuff I left behind.”

You just hum, nodding. Avoiding how his eyes glancing over you, just for a second as he was looking for where to keep his gaze whilst speaking.

“But I’m sure you’re having fun that side.” That side. He can hear the strength you put on the words. Instead of fiddling on your lap you decide to fold your arms on your chest. Finding it appropriate for the feelings that are sneaking in.

“You can say that, but there’s just something that feels empty y’know.” You do know, but you both choose to leave the conversation implicit.

And right on time, your food arrives saving you from saying anything. What the heck would you say when you can’t even think.

You two are soon digging into your food. Jungkook in his kimchi jjigae and you in yours.

“I missed this- mmm.” He hums making that little angry face he makes when he likes food. You laugh, a little to loud at that causing him to look up at you. You drop your smile.

“Mrs Kim always asks me about you when I come here.” 6 slices of chopped spring onion garnish you haven’t eaten, yet.

He leans back in his chair, unintentionally watching you eat.

He turns his head towards the kitchen where the lady in question usually spends her time. “Where is she anyways?” he’s back to digging into his food. the steam from the food warming his cold nose.

“she’s visiting sung Hoon in the US.” You inform him, taking in how relaxed you’ve become.

He nods at the info, “Ahh- she finally got to got to the US?” he smiles. He remembers how she would come to the table; she’d complain that her son doesn’t want her to visit, which was not the case. But being the dramatic lady she is, she would think that. “ ’m sure she was so excited.”

“no one could hear the end of it.”

He chuckles and you find yourself laughing too. But as much as you’re seemingly getting comfortable (though not wholly.) silence finds a way to wrap it’s long, cold and slimy finger around you two.

After you’re done eating your meals in silence, jungkook thinks it’s time to discuss the reason you’re even meeting. Cause you have nothing more to talk about.

“what’s the plan for the trip?” he shifts in his seat. “Assuming you’d want to go.” He doubts.

You take a deep breath before speaking, looking over at the whole scene of the restaurant. “I don’t know, we’d leave on Thursday. Assuming you’d want to go too.” You would want to go, that’s why you booked the trip. It’s only your situation that makes it awkward.

“Do you?” his question comes out fast and sudden and he regrets how quick it came out.

“Mm?” you mutter like you couldn’t hear what he said.

He clarifies choosing to speak more calmly and composed. “Do you want to go?”

The question takes you aback as though you hadn’t been asking yourself the same thing.

Reaching to play with the little gem on your necklace you stutter out. “I-I mean- yeah we spent money on it.” you shrug your shoulders as if you’re unconsciously saying otherwise, but really, you’re just trying to keep your statement open. In case he doesn’t want to go, and you’re left embarrassed with an extra ticket.

Jungkook instead takes your action as you probably not wanting to go. “I get it if you don’t. It’s a weird situation.” His hands move to touching his hair.

You trying to jump in but end up speaking a little too fast. “No, I do. Plus, I hate wasting money.” You do hate wasting money, truly. And it is just that and the fact that you would love a trip right now, to de-stress.

“But do you want to go with me?” that churning feeling in your stomach is returning, and you’ve just eaten which makes it all the much better.

Biting down on your lip and releasing it you say, “I mean I wouldn’t want to go on my own.” You hate how you feel your throat choking up. “Who else would I go with?” you awkwardly joke. There are some people you’d go with. But you planned this trip with jungkook and he paid the much for the tickets. So, it’s only fair to go with him. If he wants to.

He skips your question, not in bad taste. it’d be weird for you to go on a trip you planned with him with someone else. Maybe he did think of it, that maybe you’d enjoy it more if you weren’t with him. But then he thought it through. Shit doesn’t have to be awkward unless you both make it. so, you can enjoy this trip if you just agree to enjoy it. “I don’t mind going with you, but I don’t want you to feel forced to have me there.”

“I have no problem with you, jungkook.” You saying his name even though it’s not the pet name he enjoys feels like a warm touch to him. “I just want to know if you wanna go.” You find it in you to ask.

“I don’t mind it at all.” He says, relieving you of your fears.

He sighs. After he silence speaks. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. I was so excited for it too.” he reminiscing on the day. It was such a good idea. Is a good idea, if you just agree to enjoy it.

“So? It’s settled right?“ You sit up grabbing your stuff and preparing to leave. Jungkook’s smile falls realizing that the moment is ending. But he will see you soon still.

“Yeah.” He prepares to leave too.

“We leave Thursday, I guess. We’ll stay in touch.”

And that’s it, your conversation ends with you managing to avoid the larger topic at hand. It’s like a game.

You throw your clothes in haphazardly. You’re in a panic, which is not necessary cause you have enough time, the whole day to be precise. Your flight’s tomorrow. But the whole airport thing has always found a way to make you panic.

You grab some essentials, but in frustration. Maybe you just want to get it over with. The packing, not the trip. Honestly it feels like it’s already started. Is this how you’re going to be.

As you search through your closet you land on a sweater, one you remember too well. It’s green colour and fluffy soft texture makes it the warmest thing you own. A very memorable sweater, for the warmth it brought you and its origin. You can still smell him on it. You dread packing it and resort to shoving it further in your closet. You’ll think about it.

You stare at your zipped up suitcase for a bit before your eyes gloss over to your phone that buzzes on your bed. For a split second you wonder if it’s jungkook. Could he have changed his mind. you sigh relived when you see it’s just jimin.

Who chooses to say nothing of value and just tease you. “Honestly why do I tell him these things.” You throw your phone on your bed.

Jungkook stands over his already packed suitcase. He just has to zip it closed and seal this trip. He sighs rubbing his lower lip. Before you two broke up he had so much planned for this trip. So much he wanted to say and do. But it's different now and it’d be weird and wrong to say those things. Not before talking of course.

Is he looking forward to this trip? Yes-wait- maybe. The trip in itself is fine, a great and good idea and opportunity to enjoy a holiday and relax. But your presence entails something more something he has to deal with (in a responsible and good way) and that he's been running away from.

 "You're excited huh?" his mother smiles leaning against his door frame, watching. He's not sure what about his facial expression, body language or general demeanour would make her think that he's excited. It’s not like he’s dreading or regretting it. it’s more like excitement is the last thing he’s feeling cause of all he’s thinking of.

He doesn't say anything before she's speaking again.

"You need this trip. you've been so busy." He has. Too much at that. So much that he forgot you two had even broken up and was about to go to your place first when he arrived. He’d been so excited to surprise you, then it dawned on him. His tires were quick to turning. His thoughts are cut short by his mother. "it'll help you spend more time with yn."

"I guess." he replies unenthusiastically. Though it’s the same idea they’re both thinking of it in a different context. Something that his mother doesn’t know yet.

He doesn't stare at where she stands only at his suitcase analysing what he's packed and what the heck is actually going on. "Plus, it would be a perfect place to propose." She enthuses, joyous at the thought. He seems to have slightly forgotten about that detail too.

 When you were planning the trip, he made a plan to propose to you on it. It honestly is the perfect place to and he felt like it was the right time. Of course, you'd be arguing but it wasn't something that was holding back your relationship. Plus, he thought you'd talked it out well enough. So, he spent his free time after planning the trip, shopping for rings and looking proposal ideas and even asked some of his colleagues for advice. It’d be a trip where you got to spend some time after being away for so long.

But that's when you called and honestly kicked him in the balls. Too confused he just went along with it.

"Switzerland is such a good choice, you kids are so good at these things." She says probably imaging herself there too.  It’s not long before his eyes are staring at the black velvet box on his dressing table, and his head is spinning all over again. He knows how excited she gets about this and she won’t stop. “You could take a walk and then pull out the Ring with those mountains in the back and-"

"Eomma!" His deep voice stops her, not harshly but whiny. Not telling his parents about the breakup is honestly the most overwhelming thing because of how his mother adores you and finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. she could go on but the tired look on her son's face makes her stop. She wants to pry on why he looks more drained that ecstatic but she chooses against it.

”Is something wrong?”

He realizes just how carried away he’s getting with his emotions. He shakes his head. “no. I’m just stressed.” He finally looks up at her to give a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes but she returns.

"Sorry, you know how I get carried away. I'm sure you have your own plan let me not stress you."

She leaves and he sighs

No. He has no plan of his own. He has no plan at all.

Your suitcase handle is firmly clutched into your hand as you walk into the airport.

Your eyes scan the crowd. Every face. Each bag too, because you know which one he'd probably be carrying with him. Seeing it again is gonna be triggering cause the last time you saw it was the last time you saw him off.

You and jungkook agreed to come separately and since his parents lived closer to the airport he'd be here first and wait for you by security. But now that you're there you can't see him. Maybe he's a little late but why wouldn't he tell you.

You told him you had just arrived but he hasn't even seen that message. Has he changed his mind? is the first thing that pops up in your head. If he has that's a shitty way to do it. Just ghost you?

So, you pull out your phone to call him. “Pick up." You mutter under your breath.

No answer.

You feel stupid. It honestly feels like you're on a Lifetime show or even worse TLC.

Your annoyance bubbles over as you glance around the busy security area. "Where is he?" you ask yourself.

 Though you think he has, you doubt jungkook would just ghost you. It's not what you know him to be. You tap your foot impatiently and try to call him again. Still nothing. Your heart finally relaxes when you spot him already walking to you. "Seriously?" You say a little upset when he finally reaches. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"Oh. I didn't hear it." He says pulling it out of his pocket. "Must be on silent. I’m sorry." He looks at you genuinely so. And you can’t bring yourself to be as mad as you want to be. It’s not a big deal, he’s here now.

“it’s okay, we should get going, we’re almost late.” You say frustrated with how traffic delayed your arrival. Jungkook just hums agreeing and surprising you by taking you suitcase. You’d tell him it’s fine and you can manage but he’s already walking ahead of you. Probably not wanting to hear it.

A tense silence stretches between you two as you wait to board your plane. Sitting side by side has never felt so awkward, like the space between you is miles wide. You scroll through your phone, pretending to be so into it. You don’t notice Jungkook stealing occasional glances at you. Or rather, at the sweater you’re wearing—the one he gave you (more like you took.) just before he moved to another town. The green complimenting your skin. He loves how it just melts to fit you. He’s glad to know that you’re warm, he’s aware of how incredibly warm it is.

He wonders if you’re wearing it deliberately, or if it’s just because it’s the warmest thing you own, and today’s even colder than yesterday. Probably no meaning behind it. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Though it’s not enough to stop him from developing a smile on his face, one he covers with his hand.

The low hum of voices and the faint crackle of the airport announcements fill the silence. Someone walks past, dragging a squeaky suitcase, the airport noises the only thing between the two of you.

“I know this is awkward.” He starts randomly, at first doubting he was talking to you but then you move your attention to him, when you realize it’s only you he can be talking to. It’s not like you were looking at anything on your phone. “I want us to enjoy it. I want you to enjoy it.”

“I want you to enjoy it too.” You find yourself speaking before your brain can process.

He smiles and turns to meet your eyes. All of a sudden, he feels so close. “So can we just pretend.” His eyes don’t move, if possible, they stare even deeper into yours. Yours don’t move as well. “Pretend like everything’s okay.” He speaks low as if he doesn’t want others around to hear. “Agree?”

You haven’t said much, instead just let him speak. “Agreed.”

You don’t mind pretending. You’ve been pretending you’re okay all this time, so why can’t you do it now.

-

You watch Jungkook sliding the bags into the overhead storage above your seats. He notices you approaching and nods for you to have the window seat.

“You sure?” you ask only because he called dibs when you planned the trip that he’d be getting the window seat.

He nods. “Yeah. I know you like it more than I do.” You do. He only called dibs because he was trying to ‘one up’ you like everything’s a game.

You squeeze passed him get comfortable in your seat and he’s soon sitting next to you. You’re glad it’s just two seats.

You sit in silence for most of the flight, each pretending to be too absorbed in your own activities to notice the other. Jungkook watches you out of the corner of his eye as you scroll through your phone, then switch to reading a book. This trip can’t be that bad, you tell yourself. Of course, you two haven’t talked about your breakup, but it doesn’t have to come up. You’ll just enjoy the weekend and go back to normal, like he said—pretend---if either of you even knows what that means.

What are the boundaries of pretending.

At some point, you shift in your seat, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. You’re asleep, of course, but Jungkook glances down at you, momentarily startled. He considers waking you but decides against it. Instead, he leans back slightly, letting you stay there.

As the plane hums softly and moves through the sky, Jungkook can’t help but wonder if this trip could be his chance to fix things. How does he want it to happen? Does he even know? All he knows it that you do eventually have to talk about things. Do you even want to talk about it, because you seem to be avoiding it.

But there’s only so much avoiding you can do.

As soon as the plane lands, you stretch in your seat, surprised you managed to sleep for that long. Glancing at Jungkook, you watch as he pulls the luggage from the overhead bin. He looks like he didn’t get any sleep at all, you had been sleeping on his shoulder for most of the time. You exchange a brief look—just acknowledging each other and your present moment—before heading off the plane

The crisp Swiss air hits you as you step outside the terminal, and you follow Jungkook as he gets into a cab and it drives confidently toward a car rental area, which you’re confused about but don’t ask. Jungkook picks up keys from the reception and you walk through the parkin lot looking for what you don’t know. You’re just following. You stare at him puzzled as he dangles the keys. He’s been quiet, and you hadn’t even expected to rent a car. Public transport seemed like the plan, but now that you think about it, you remember how Jungkook feels about it.

“You rented a car?” you raise a brow.

He nods, “yeah, it’d be easier. Thought you’d approve.”

He catches a glance of your face, like you’re trying to figure something out, but can’t.

“Hmm.” You only hum.

“You look cute when you’re confused”.  He takes you by surprise. “Come on.” He says walking and not letting you process his words. You just try to shake them out of your head.

You don’t admit it, but you're impressed. He thought ahead. And you’re honestly glad he did—something you feel he’s been lacking the past year.

Once he’s done packing the luggage into the car, he closes the trunk and slides into the driver’s seat. You’re not sure why you’re shocked to find out it’s a Mercedes-benz g63 amg. You’d always known he had an obsession with luxury cars, especially ones like this. The fact that his job pays so well certainly helps, you guess moving out of town must’ve been worth it.

The car is great-- so comfortable, and the heater works perfectly, keeping you warm against the cold.

As Jungkook adjusts the mirrors, you scroll through your contacts, trying to figure out what to call the person you booked the cabin with, “what do I call them a host?” You mutter under your breath before dialling the number.

Jungkook glances at you as you speak to the host in quick tones. "Got it, thanks," you say, giving a quick wave of your phone toward Jungkook. With the directions noted you can now get to moving.

"Okay, so we head north, then take-“

“North?" Jungkook interrupts, starting the engine. "Are you sure it's not west or whatever?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You glare at him. He glances at one map and thinks he knows his way around Switzerland.

"I just talked to the guy," you say flatly.

Jungkook smirks, recalling a past trip. "Remember last time we travelled, and we ended up on a dead-end street?" he says with a cheeky smile on his face. he’s teasing you.

You roll your eyes at the memory. You had been driving through the outskirts, and your GPS got wonky, causing you to go down a deserted road.

“If you’d listened to me, we wouldn’t have gotten lost,” you reply.

You stop bickering, finally following the GPS. Jungkook decides to follow the directions, and the tension eases as you leave the city behind.

The atmosphere shifts, replaced by a sense of awe at the breathtaking scenery. Low-capped mountains stretch into the horizon, Swiss chalets dot the landscape, and the sun reflects off the lakes. You’re glad you arrived during the day; cause nighttime would not have done the view justice.

You watch out the window, your voice filled with awe. "Oh my gosh, it's so beautiful." Jungkook glances at your direction before returning his attention to the road. "Yeah, it is," he agrees, equally mesmerized by the view.

"Can you grab my camera from the back?" he askes. Recalling his passion for photography, you can’t be surprised he has it with him.

You pull out the camera from his bag, noticing it’s larger and more expensive looking than the one you had gifted him. "Do you still have your other one?" you’re curious.

He knows what you’re hinting to. "It fell in water during a fishing trip with my team, but I'm getting it fixed."

“Do you still have the pictures.” You’d hate to lose them, even though they are null and void now, you still like how happy you looked in them.

“Yeah. They’re in my SD.” He informs you and you’re glad.

You fumble with the new camera, struggling to operate its buttons, he notices. "There's a button just there," he directs. Though you aren’t much of a photographer, you manage to snap some decent shots of the scene. You take a lot to make sure you have options.

Feeling playful, you turn the camera to jungkook and snap a pic of him. You had always admired his model-like features and often joked he should pursue modelling instead of his current path, which kept him 218 miles away. But now you realize modelling would only take him even farther.

He never agreed to the idea but never argued either. He preferred to appreciate beauty rather than be the centre of attention.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" he asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Yeah, just one," you reply.

He doesn’t respond, leaving you to wonder what he’s thinking. Is he upset? Did you cross a pretending line?

"Wanna stop and take pictures," he grins, "y’know for your Instagram."

It’s not a bad idea, but you don’t want to be late and have the host waiting for too long.

"We won't be long." he looks over to see if you’re considering. He smiles when sees that you are. You don't post much on Instagram, and he knows that. But it wouldn't hurt to have some pictures from this trip.

"Let's be quick," you accept.

He pulls over to the side of the road and when you’re out he’s approaching you to take the camera. "Let me take some of you first," you insist. He isn’t so keen on it though.

"Just a few," you whine dodging him trying to take it from your hands.

"We're supposed to be quick." He reminds you. "And you know I'm not a fan of pictures of me."

 You not wanting to bicker. You hand it over to him. "But I will take pictures of you eventually," it’s a promise.

You quickly get posing on a spot you like, and he snaps several pictures. Some you were prepared for, while others were candid of you looking up a bird flying over, like you’ve never seen a bird before. or just in awe of the scene behind. Why do the birds seem so majestic here?

Jungkook smiles as he continues to take photos, forgetting the time. "I think that's enough. We're going to be late," you say, running out of poses to do.

You start walking to the car and he snaps one more picture of the scene before getting back and starting the car.  Whilst adjusting to the warmth he hands you the camera.

"These are so pretty," you bulge your eyes out at how good jungkook is at taking pictures. You can definitely see the difference. Jungkook can’t help but feel a sense of pride. You scroll through the camera, admiring more pictures.

Then you scroll a little too far and notice a series of photos featuring a friend—someone he seems to be close to. In one, she leans on his shoulder, a gesture that causes some type of discomfort or irritation. You couldn’t be sure, you’re too busy scrolling. She smiles too hard, you judge.

gosh you're pathetic. Why are you acting like this. The man is not your boyfriend he can do whatever. The statement causes an unwanted sour taste to form over your taste buds.

You continue to scroll, analysing the photos, each one deepening your insecurities.

"Careful, you're gonna damage the buttons," Jungkook jokes when he notices your rushed movement. He wonders what has you that way.

When he speaks, you’re brought back to reality. Though you’re brought back with an attitude. You switch off the device and lay it back where you found it, sitting back down with a scowl on your face and jungkook wonders the cause.

You had been fine just a moment ago. He doesn’t say anything and focuses fully on the road ahead. The silent drive to the cabin feels anything but aesthetic.

You sigh as the car slows, leaving behind the snow-covered path. When you approach the cabin, it’s instantly recognizable from the photo. At least you weren’t lost or scammed. The place looks serene. It’s blanketed in snow. It’s not like those huge family ones. It’s small just to fit you and jungkook. You’d have no money to buy anything or activities if you booked those larger ones. And they’re unnecessary cause it’s just the two of you.

Jungkook parks the car, and as you both step out, the awkwardness that’s shadowed the trip returns. It had been there from the beginning, lingering beneath exchanges and strained silences. Brief moments, like taking pictures earlier, had been relieving, but even that had soured quickly. Now, neither of you had much to say.

The cabin’s host, a kind older man with a thick Swiss accent, greets you warmly, showing you around the cozy interior and pointing out the back patio before leaving. Once alone, you both quietly bring in the luggage. The silence is deafening, broken only by the crunch of snow you step on.

Due to your irritation that some how still lingered you step a little too hard on the icy ground, and in an instant, your foot slips. You land awkwardly in a mix of snow and dirt, the impact cushioned but still hurting.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook calls, his voice tinged with concern and amusement. He’d drop the luggage to come check on you if you hadn’t brushed him away with your hand.

Still irritated, now cause of the fall, you dust yourself off and move yourself inside. You drop the luggage in bedroom and start taking off your sweater, only to have Jungkook walk in moments later.

“One bed,” he states, looking at the large, centred piece of furniture. “Looks comfy.” You seem to have forgotten the cabin was lover’s themed, so it did only have one bed. The host had asked you if it was a problem when he saw the look on your face but you just brushed it away at you being tired.

You glance at the bed, then at him. “Yeah. Guess you’ll have to take the couch,” you joke, though your tone comes out flatter than intended.

“Nope.” He flops onto the bed, which creaks under his weight, making him pause to check if it’s broken. When it holds, he relaxes. “I’m sleeping right here.”

You sigh, deciding it’s not worth arguing. You’ve shared a bed before—it shouldn’t be a big deal so many times at that. But those times are not now and you have to deal with your new circumstance.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you announce, expecting him to leave the room. Instead, he sprawls comfortably on the bed.

“Knock yourself out,” he replies casually.

Groaning, you grab your toiletries and head to the bathroom. The hot water feels like a gift, relaxing your tense muscles. If only the whole trip could feel this peaceful.

When you return, Jungkook is gone, though his shoes by the door confirm he hasn’t gone far. You search through your suitcase for a sweater, only to realize you packed just one sweater—the one now wet and dirty. Frustration bubbles as you grab a thin, long-sleeved shirt. It’ll have to do, though you doubt it’ll keep you warm in tomorrow’s outdoor activities.

Meanwhile, Jungkook in the kitchen has immersed himself in exploring the layout of it. whilst on his expedition his attention drifts to a tiny blue bird minding its business outside the window. He leans into it but carefully not to scare it away. Thankfully it doesn’t seem to find him a bother. “Got any advice for me?” he murmurs, taking a peek behind him. The bird doesn’t react, oblivious to his internal conflict. He’s unsure—about you, about himself, about what this trip is supposed to accomplish.

When you enter the kitchen and done talking to his new friend who doesn’t present him with anything viable but his company, he’s quick to point out the lack of groceries. “We should go shopping. It’s on your itinerary, right?” he teases lightly.

You nod, unsurprised he remembers. You’d always been the planner, the one who thought of everything. Maybe that’s why the breakup hurt so much—it came so suddenly, leaving no time to plan how to feel or move on.

As he’s about to suggest leaving immediately, he notices you rubbing your arms. “Aren’t you cold?” he asks, gesturing to your thin shirt.

“I’m fine,” you reply dismissively, though you clearly aren’t.

“Put on a sweater before you get sick,” he insists. His boyfriend instincts linger, even now.

You hesitate but eventually admit, “I forgot to pack an extra one.” The way how stares at you is so embarrassing for you.

Jungkook chuckles softly, though not unkindly. “Of course you did.” You roll your eyes. He moves to grab a sweater from his suitcase and hands it to you. “Here. Borrow this.”

You take it, the faint scent of his cologne that seems to be on everything he wears no matter how much he washes, invaded your senses. “Thanks,” you say quietly, slipping it on and hoping not to ruin this one too.

By the time you return from the store, exhaustion settles in. You both sit in the living room, cups of hot cocoa in hand. Jungkook flips through the channels while you sit quietly, the warmth of his sweater and the fire calming you.

“You’ve made a lot of friends in Jeju,” you say suddenly, your tone sharper than intended.

Jungkook pauses, confused. “What friends?”

“Colleagues, maybe? Customers? I saw the pictures on your camera,” you admit, staring into your cup instead of at him.

He leans back, waiting. He knows what you’re referring to and could explain that the woman in the photos was a client a little too excited and touchy about her wedding rehearsal photos, and had wanted photos with him. But he wants you to ask.

Instead, the silence stretches, filled with unspoken questions—questions about Jeju, the photos, the breakup, and even yourself. You sigh, pushing them aside.

“is there something you wanna ask?”

“There’s nothing I want to ask,” you finally say, though the bitterness in your voice betrays the truth.

Jungkook laughs softly, shaking his head. “I thought we agreed on pretending.” His voice is still soft.

“I know. Just don’t want you pretending if you’ve got other things going on.”

Jungkook chuckles taking a sip of his cocoa.” I’m good.”

“I’m good too.”

“Good.”

You watch him stand a sly smirk adoring his face. “let’s go back to pretending now, okay?” he says looking at you.

You mumble a sure and he walks off. Probably to sleep.

Sleeping the same bed is even more awkward. After spending some minutes you’d decide you were too tired to be awake, you came the bedroom.

Jungkook was still awake staring at his phone, and for some reason shirtless. He likes to sleep shirtless and the tension between you two isn’t going to stop him.

Jungkook tries to keep his eyes to himself as you change into your pajamas. You didn’t want to be childish so you just changed right there. It’s nothing he’s never seen before. He won’t act like the action doesn’t cause a rise in memories and he holds himself to not thinking further. Soon you’re crawling into your side and laying facing away from him. Jungkook chooses to lie on his back, the bed big enough for you to keep your distance. He turns off the lights but your eyes remain open staring into the dark.

As the night continues, none of you are able to fall asleep. Jungkook tries to make himself comfortable, his shifting cause you to think he might be moving closer, but he doesn’t. why do you feel sad. Your brain is used to being close to him and him holding you in situations like this. And he too is used to wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer into him. But there’s none of that.

“I can’t fucking sleep.” he groans frustratedly sitting up. He runs his hands in his hair. He looks over at you thinking you’re asleep, the darkness preventing him from actually knowing. He’s jealous at the idea of you being able to sleep, but when your frustrated voice sounds, he’s relieved. Relieved that he’s not the only not able to sleep.

“Same.” You mutter remaining on your side.

Jungkook huffs and puffs contemplating on asking what he’d been debating. Your bodies are probably used to sleeping closer to each other, so maybe that’s’ why it’s hard. You surely won’t mind if it means you get to sleep right?

He looks over to you and how far you seem from. He doesn’t like, hates the reality of it. “Can I sleep closer to you.” His words and the fact that he actually said takes you aback. You freeze. Your silence is killing him, he shouldn’t have said it. he should take it back, well—but he’s already sai-

“Okay.” Okay? Well, that was easy, he thought you’d be looking at him weird. but no, you just lay on your side waiting for him.

When he said closer you never thought he meant this close. You’re the closest you can be. But you don’t mind it, it actually brings you that giddy feeling, like it’s your first time cuddling. You realize just how much you missed it. He nuzzles his face in your neck and this is when he’d kiss your shoulder and neck but he doesn’t and the detail is gravely missed. He has to hold himself from not doing it.

“We’re going to move to the middle of the bed, darling.” It’s only then that you realize how much at the edge you were. You shuffle yourselves and move into the center and get comfortable in the position.

“Are you comfortable?”

So much you hate to say it. You can’t even bring yourself to be angry. “y-yeah.” You can barely respond coherently with how his voice is so close sending goosebumps all over you.

“Can I put my around you? It’s the only place I can put it.” he tries to explain, but you were actually hoping for it.

You nod for him to go ahead and he wraps his arm around you. Honestly, he should’ve just asked if he could cuddle you, because this is basically what you’re doing. He didn’t have to mask it; you’d have said yes either way. He doesn’t know that though.

Now that you’re close to him and him to you, you both weirdly fall asleep, very quickly at that.

First thing on your itinerary was to visit the Lindt home of chocolate you’d been drooling at the thought of it since you planned this trip. It would honestly be a crime to visit Switzerland and not visit the Lindt factory. Being a lover of chocolate no activity on your list will be as good as this.

“I don’t know why they have us putting our bags away.” Jungkook whines taking off his jacket, as required and placing it in a locker. “How am I supposed to carry my chocolate.” His speech is almost childlike. You just chuckle.

 ” That’s why they do it.” You inform him, with a soft smile and start to walk ahead of him. Jungkook walks behind you, watching how you look around with wonder.

Did he mention how good he feels right now. The sleep he had last night was the best he’s had in a while. And it only serves to tell him how much he’s missed your presence. Just you as a whole. Being away from you for so long has had an effect on him too. It’s only now, that he’s not able to do all the things he used to do, that he realizes how much he’s missed it. And how much you mean to him.

“Oh my gosh.” Jungkook watches how you take in the aroma of chocolate. It invades his senses and when you’re turning around to check on him, he’s nodding. You want him to enjoy this just as you are.

You gasp and it’s when you spot the huge chocolate fountain that you pull Jungkook’s attention to it by his arm. “it’s so fucking huge.” You say still holding onto him.

“that’s what she said.”

You roll your eyes. “Grow up.” You both laugh. and it’s when you’re lost in laughter and admiring the fountain that jungkook looks down to see you still holding his arm. So, in a swift action of no thought, all instinct he moves to hold your hand.

Your head sharply moves to look at him then at his hand holding yours and then back up at him. He’s got this innocent smile on his face and you can’t help but warm up into his hold. You don’t mind the action of holding hands but you fear what it implies. Is he for real or still pretending?

For the first minutes you stay holding hands, until jungkook is pulling away to grab his camera. You rub you hands together to try and regain your sense of independence. What the heck are you doing, holding hands? This pretending thing Is a good idea, but it’s definitely messing with you in some way. All ways. He’s giving you things that you’ve been craving. The cuddle at night, the holding hands, you’ve missed it all. But you don’t know where it’s coming from, does he miss you too or is he pretending. To think of it you never really discussed what type of pretending you’re doing. Are you pretending to still be together or are you pretending to be good friends. Gosh this is so stressful. And confusing. You wonder if he’s stressing like you are. He seems calm. He’s handling this so well.

“Wait—I need a picture of you. Stand still.” He points the camera to you and you’re quick to turning your head away.

“it’s fine you don’t need to-” snap.

He doesn’t give you the time to object and just snaps. “Jungkook stop taking pictures of me.” He doesn’t. you’re embarrassed to be doing this in public. But he seems thrilled. “Okay wait-” he doesn’t so you choose to reaching for the Lense. But jungkook doesn’t mind filling his storage with pictures of your palm. “Kook, wait.”

“Kook?” he questions smiling. You realize your mistake. Honestly you didn’t mean to call him that, it just came out naturally for you to get him to stop. And it worked. Though now it shifts the air.

You groan. “I didn’t mean it like that.” You roll your eyes. You don’t even know what you’re saying.

He doesn’t linger on it more, which honestly helps your case. The blush on your face is deserving of a picture. Snap.

“Stop that before I revoke your privileges.” You threaten. He doesn’t want that.

He raises his hands in surrender. “won’t do it again.”

You ignore him and turn to keep walking.

“Can take more later though?”

You don’t answer, but he takes it as a yes. You’ve always been his muse, it’s not gonna stop now. His camara is now getting some action.

This place is actually so beautiful, smells amazing too. The pictures you saw did not do it justice.

“Look at the strawberries, the nuts. Ah—I’m in heaven.”

Jungkook smiles as he watches enjoy and pointing for him to look at the large container, of everything that goes well with chocolate. He’s really just happy that you’re including him, by telling him how much you freaking love this place or how you want to stay here forever. It makes him feel like things aren’t all that bad between the two of you and it can be fixed.

“Why are you looking at me like that.” You narrow your eyes at him. Gosh he forgot how long he was looking for. You’d been telling him something but he zoned out.

“Oh-nothing.” He clears his throat.

You just brush it off, cause if you linger on it, you’ll melt. Jungkook looking at you has been a weakness for you, there’s just something about him focusing on you and having only you in sight. “Anyway, I was saying try this.”

He doesn’t regain his consciousness before you’re bringing a spoon full of chocolate to his lips. he takes it, tasting the sweetness of it.

He licks the chocolate off his lips when you pull away. “Mmm….so good.” You nod glad that he likes it. Though way he’s looking at you makes you think he might not be talking about the chocolate. You choose to ignore your thoughts with a cough.

As you go on you learn facts about chocolate and the factory and jungkook takes the pictures. When walking around you make sure to not forget to collect little pieces of chocolate from the dispensers. And it’s not long before your hands are getting full.

When your expedition is over, you’re returning to your bags to stuff them with your treasure.

“This is a lot of chocolate.” Jungkook states.

You shake your head. “it’s not that much.”

“Yeah of course an addict is telling me that.”

You gasp. “I’m not an addict.”

“Tell that to all the money I’ve spent buying you chocolate.” Money which it didn’t mind and loved spending.

“Honestly that’s all on you.” You say raising your hands. He chuckles.

Getting tired you both decide to go by the café inside the factory. Whilst there you both order some food to eat which is not chocolate, except you. For your beverage you picked to drink the famous hot cocoa. Which tastes like heaven made it themselves.

“How do I take this home with me?” you say motioning to your drink.

“Just stay.” He meant to say you both could just stay, but his tongue tripped.

You nod, thinking about it. “I could.” Moving to Switzerland and living here would be a dream. But unfortunately, things aren’t that easy. Finding a job would be hard, plus the language barrier would kill you.

“don’t.” he’s almost pleading. “I don’t know how I’d tell your family I lost you to Switzerland.” More like he doesn’t know how he’d fix things.

“Honestly it’s no competition.” You say in deep thought and analysis.

“What? you would leave me for Switzerland?” He says it not realizing causing you to chuckle. And when you look at him, he gets it.

The conversation doesn’t go farther after that. Jungkook just stays in his thought. When jungkook had made the decision to move. He honestly thought it wouldn’t be that bad. He’d plan on maybe moving you out to him when he settled down, but your job was a very hot topic. At the time he hadn’t realized how serious it was. But now he does.

If it was you moving, he’d be just as hurt. And it pissing him off that he hadn’t realize the impact.

For your second and last activity for the day, cause of the way time just flies by; is the largest indoor flea market.

You spend your time there; just looking around, eating, and buying stuff. During your move you make it a mission to take pictures of jungkook. And you do manage to take some good ones.

He also finds an opportunity to ask about your work and how it’s going. And if that co-worker that bothers you is still around. He’s glad to learn that she did get moved to another department. He’s happy with whatever makes you comfortable.

As you’re talking, you’re approached by a couple, older but not old and tourists as well. They ask you to take a picture of them and jungkook is glad to assist. When he’s done, they’re happy and offer to take a picture of you too, jungkook wants to decline the offer assuming you wouldn’t want to but you’re quick to accepting.

“you two look so lovely together.” The lady says and you have no clue what to say apart form an awkward thank you. You wouldn’t blame them for thinking you’re a couple, not with the way jungkook is smiling at the picture.

“Grow up kook.”

“What?” he whines. “It’s a good photo.”

You roll your eyes before walking away. He follows behind you, smiling.

-----

Soon your day on paper comes to an end and you’re returning to the cabin.

You did not know what to expect of your day in the morning. Your night was okay but would the rest of the day go the same? those were some of your thoughts. But to your pleasure the day went well, great even. You just hope it’s the same for the rest of the trip.

Jungkook is on cocoa duty (not assigned but he took the responsibility.) and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t do a good job at it every time.

Leaning against the counter holding your mug and watching him finishes up with his own, you watch.

“How’d you like the Lindt factory?”

He takes a sip before answering. “Great. Honestly enjoyed it more than I thought.”

“What? You don’t trust my judgement?” you watch as he leans on the counter opposite from you.

“it’s not that. Just never thought I was that big of a chocolate fan.”

You hum. Silence fills the kitchen as you’re just enjoying the drink. Why does the air feel so thick, is it the way he just leans there. Pajamas not doing a very good job at hiding his physique. Why the hell does he look buffer. Gosh, his arms look like they’d lift and lay you to your demise. In the morning you caught a glimpse of his shirtless torso, and you were about to lose your cool. To add gasoline to the fire he had just stepped out the shower and had not completely dried. Geez, if it wasn’t for your ability to leave the room, you don’t know what you would’ve done or said.

Jungkook has always had a keen eye for your little frustrated looks, the way you don’t blink, the way you wrap your hands around yourself or how you cross your legs. He knows. It’s the details he’s aware of. No one knows you like he does.

“I like this sweater on you.” He says pointing to the green sweater you’d just gotten back from the dry cleaners.

You look down at it. “Because it’s yours?” you raise a brow as you take a sip of your cocoa.

He shakes his head looking your body up. “no. because you look good in it.” He’s biting his lip, then his playing with that little lip ring. Yn, hold yourself.

You choke out a chuckle. “Jungkook.” It’s a warning for him. But he doesn’t take it.

“What? It’s not my fault you look good in all my clothes.” gosh you’re gonna die choking on this liquid. “Makes me want to just hand over my closet to you.” He’s coming closer to you, gosh what the fuck, he approaches but it’s the sink you’re standing in front he wants. You move. He rinses his mug, tired of the drink.

“Well, that won’t be necessary.” you say sliding away from his towering figure. Just to catch your breath, cause you’ve been holding it. Jungkook laughs at the movement. Just after, you’re rinsing your cup and placing it in the cupboard. You’re not gonna die choking on cocoa, or jungkook as a matter of fact.

“Think I’m going to bed.” You state thinking the bedroom will be your only place of solace away from him.

“Me too. I’m getting sleepy.”

You’re stiff as he walks behind you. You hope you’ll be able to sleep on your own tonight. Cause if jungkook just as much as touches you, you’ll turn into a puddle.

You’re quick to moving to your side and facing away from him as to not see him taking of his shirt. You know because you hear it drop.

“Goodnight.” He says turning off the light.

With all your might you mumble a goodnight to him too.

Tonight, you manage to fall asleep without cuddling. You sleep back-to-back close enough to feel the heat radiating off the other.

Jungkook wanted, so badly to go skiing after seeing an advertisement for it and saw some people do it on your way to the cabin. You’re not one for these intense sports but since he went with you to the Lindt factory, you thought it’d only be fair to go as well. Just accompany him.

Though his won’t be sweet and rewarding.

“You wanna go with me?” he asks teasingly and you shake your head, as soon as you process his words.” come on.” He whines.

“I’ll just cheer you on from down here.” The process of skiing looks terrifying. What do you mean you had to go on those zip line things, and slide down. Not you. Nope.

“it’s not that bad. You’ll be with me.”

Though it sounds comforting it doesn’t change anything. “I’ll just stay here looking around and taking pictures for you.” You smile hoping it convinces him.

He chuckles, his bunny smile on show for you.” baby what are you so scared of?” the pet name comes out smoothly, catching you by surprise. But it does seat itself in and warm your heart.

“it’s just scary.” You wrap your arms around your body.

He sighs watching you closely. “Fine, but can we do something as exciting, later.” He stares at you scattering your brain for what he could be referring to. “Like ice skating.” Oh—he was thinking ice skating. Last night has your mind in a whirlwind.

“That sounds better.” Jungkook laughs cause it’s basically the same thing, but he won’t get into it.

“Okay then.” He says walking to the register. “we’ll do that later.” It’s a promise.

Jungkook is off skiing and you’re sat in doors, still able to watch the outside activities, landscape and events thought the large window. You don’t mind not going skiing, it’s not like it was on your list.

While you’re sat you decide it’d be a good time to call jimin and let him in on your trip so far.

“it’s not as awkward, anymore. It was at first. But then we just agreed to just enjoy the trip for the sake of our money.”

“The sake of your money?” he mocks.

You choke out a laugh. “Yes, for the money.” Is it? “he’s been nice and all. It’s actually not bad.” Jimin hums as he listens, this time at least you have his attention.

You’ve shockingly enjoyed the trip more than you thought, so far. If you just keep on, the whole trip could go well and you’d be back to your normal lives. You hate the sickness you feel at the thought. The trip will end, it is gonna end and you’ll be back to what you were before. Gosh.

“Sounds like the trip is going a little too well.”

You scoff. “it’s not that, we’re both just chill.”

“No fucking or kissing.”

You gasp and look around like someone could’ve heard that, but your phone is to your ear. “jimin! Oh my gosh.” The thought of it has you blushing still.

“Just sayin’. Jungkook’s probably dying. ”

You roll your eyes. He’s fine, you’re fine.

You go on talking but soon you have to end the call. Immediately you cut the call and stuff your phone in your pocket a figure sits next to you. Male, not jungkook. You pay no mind to him. you’re on a public bench anyone can sit next to you. He’s just in his own business. Is what you think until he’s reaching over to talk to you.

“Exciting isn’t it.” when he speaks you catch his foreign accent, not Swiss. Must be a tourist like you.

You awkwardly furrow your brows. “Huh?”

“Skiing.” He points.

Then it clicks that that’s what he’s talking about.

“I presume.” You say modestly. Why the heck is he talking to you.

“Presume? Haven’t you gone?”

“no.” You shake your head chuckling. “it’s not for me.”

“You can’t say that. You haven’t even tried.” You internally roll your eyes. Why does he seem to care so much. “Plus, why come to Switzerland in the winter and not try skiing.”

You don’t know why you carry on this conversation, but you feel like justifying yourself. “Honestly I just came for the Lindt factory.” You say shamelessly causing the stranger to laugh. he doesn’t seem like a weirdo or creep, but you can never know. He’s probably not talking to you out of pure interest. So, you try to keep your distance.

“you’ve been?”

“Yeah. Yesterday.”

He hums sound interested and you know this conversation isn’t ending anytime soon. “How was it?”

You scoff internally. “It was fun. Would recommend you’ll love it.” You don’t even know him; how would you know he’d like it. And to be fair you’d add that Jungkook’s presence made the place more exciting to be at. You assume he doesn’t have a jungkook. Speaking of jungkook, how long is he going to be? You should’ve just gone out on a walk instead.

He nods. “Well maybe you can show me.” You pause, okay now you’re starting to get uncomfortable. “I’m sorry I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that I came alone and it would be nice to have someone show me around.” He justifies but it doesn’t make you any more comfortable. “I’d pay for your ticket if that’s the issue.”

You chuckle. “I’m a tourist to, there’s not much I can show you.”

“I mean you’ve visited the Lindt, so you know more than me.” Gosh he’s so adamant.

You smile awkwardly wishing jungkook would just pop up.

“you’d be better off going with someone else.” You’re looking around as if you’ve lost something. The man catches on to the action.

“Am I making you uncomfortable.” Yes. very.

“No-” before you can finish your lie of a statement, Jungkook’s interrupts, voice anything but kind.

“Yes, you are.” He says firmly, body not open for discussion.

The guy turns to look at you, then jungkook, then back at you. “Do you know him?”

Hesitantly you respond. “yeah” you debate on what to say. “He’s a friend.” He is isn’t he?

Friend? Jungkook chuckles internally. “Excuse us.” He spits out to the man.

The guy is taken aback, but just stands. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You just nod and give him an awkward smile as he walks away.

You sigh relieved that he’s gone.

 You and jungkook share a glance before he’s sitting down.

“Friend?” Jungkook asks when he sits next to you.

You raise a brow. “What? you wanted me to lie?”

“Lie?” he says even stronger. You don’t know what he’s pointing to right now.

“Are you parrot?” You chuckle trying to get smart with him.

Jungkook scoffs at how you avoid his eyes. “You couldn’t have said I was your boyfriend.”

“But you’re not.” You spit out a little quickly.

When you turn to look at him you catch how his jaw clenches. And if you weren’t arguing right now, you’d think it’s the hottest thing. “But you could’ve just lied so he leaves you alone. Now he’s probably going to try to approach you again.”

“he’s not going to.” You say naively.

Jungkook is getting frustrated with this, a little more than he should. “I know guys like that, he’s going wait for a time when I’m not around and attack.”

“Attack?” you laugh at his word choice. Your laughter only serves to his anger. “You’re being dramatic”

“I’m not being dramatic, I’m being serious” his statement comes out a little strong and louder than you’d like

“don’t yell.” You warn him and he apologizes. “I get you feel like you need to protect me, but relax.”

He laughs at the way you think. You thinking he’s feeling like he needs to, no, he needs to. He wants to.

“I don’t feel like, I need to, I want to.”

You don’t say anything, he knows he’s got you, what more could you say. There’s nothing. Jungkook is the protective type, has always been. He’s shown you that many times in your relationship. And then, it made sense but now you feel like he shouldn’t have to bother himself with it. You’re not his responsibility anymore. “We should get ready to go for lunch.” you stand walking away.

Jungkook follows after you, knowing you’re now gonna give him attitude. Your folded arms are evidence of that. He’d normally just kiss the attitude away but for obvious reason he can’t.

-

“you’re not gonna ask how skiing was?” He tries really hard to open the air for conversation. He hates it when you argue. So, he tries to everything he can to lighten the air.

You stare down at your food. Your eyes not meeting him once. “How was it?” you don’t even sound interested which you hate because you are. You love to hear jungkook talk about things he loves.

“It was great.” He explains not into going into much detail like he wanted to. Your energy demoralizes him. “I’m sure they’re still open if you still want to try. He suggests but you’re quick to shaking your head.

When he’s about to say something, he’s getting interrupted. It’s a girl, the one he met when skiing. She showed him around some routes since she’s a local.

“Yn, this is Lena. I met her whilst skiing.” He says introducing you. “Lena this is yn, my friend.”

Fuck now you know how bad it stings.

“Hey yn. How are you liking you trip so far?” she asks politely in an accent.

You stare her up, taking in her features. She looks about your age, and gorgeous. Why is your body so rigid. Speak. “Umm- hi-I’m liking it well enough. Thanks.” you can hear how stiff and awkward your speech is. Gosh yn she hasn’t done anything to you, chill. Smile.

Jungkook breaks into your awkward encounter. “I’m gonna be seeing you at the ice rink, right?”

He says and she smiles a little too hard. You roll your eyes. What does he mean he’s gonna see her there. Is the a you and him trip anymore? Your food doesn’t look as appetizing anymore. “Yeah. I’m there often during the holidays.”

The way her voice rings in your head is jarring. Make it stop.

Soon your prayers are answered and she’s leaving. Though unlike her your heavy heart stays.

Jungkook turns to you, still staring at her route of exit. “You, okay?” your eyes return.

You shift your eyes to your hands. “Yeah, I’m just tired.” You stand from the table choosing to leave. “I think I’m gonna stop by the cabin.”

Jungkook is confused. But he just takes you as you are.

“Sure, let me get-” he threatens to stand.

“no. I’ll just take a train.”

He sits down. If you want to be alone it’s best if he lets you be.

When you get to the cabin, all alone. You find yourself falling into deep thought.

The pretend play you and jungkook are playing is good for you to enjoy the trip, but you won’t deny how much it only covers your true feelings. You play pretend and feel all these feelings as though you’re still together and then the trip ends and you’re sucked into being apart.  And it’s him leaving all over again.

You’re getting sick of it. There’s only so much pretending you can do.

Jungkook: ice skating later today?

He wants to be sure you haven’t changed your mind.

Not matter your emotions you still want to enjoy the trip.

You: sure. Meet you there.

When you make it to the ice rink, your mood is still tense from lunch, which is your fault for holding on to the emotions for so long. To only sour your mood more, you spot jungkook talking to the Lena girl from lunch.

You roll your eyes and watch how she giggles a little too hard at something he says. Jungkook is a funny guy, but she shouldn’t be laughing, whatever he’s said can’t be that funny. This is so irritating. Why the hell is she even here.

When jungkook spots you, he has on a huge grin, but the sour look on your face has him dropping it. He thought maybe you wouldn’t be still upset by now. But he’s wrong. “Yn you’re here.” He says it like he wasn’t expecting you and you weren’t meant to be here, or that’s how you hear it.

“We made plans, didn’t we?” your tone is nothing more than flat and irritated.

“We did.” He turns. “You remember Lena?” He turns to point at her, like you can’t see her. Why’s she looking at you.

Oh, could you forget her. “I do.” You jeer.

“Hi.” she with her perfect smile. You’d liked to punch it in—your of course—you’d never actually so it.

“Hey.” It comes out awkward and strained. Wanting to get things over with you turn to jungkook immediately. “what’re we doing now?”              

“Um. We’ll have to get the skates.” He turns to Lena for some type of consultation, you scoff.

 “Yeah, this way.” she says turning to lead the way.

Jungkook turns to you, your folded arms the first thing he sees. He stands next to you. “You get here okay?” you didn’t arrive together which means you had to take public transport, which he knows you don’t mind but he just wants to check on you.

“Yeah.” You mutter before walking ahead of him. Do you even know where you’re going?

You want to enjoy it, but the emotions that are ahead of you block you from doing so completely. And of course, Lena is a pro at skating.

Jungkook is fairly good, for someone who’s just taken it up. You’d attribute that to his quick learner personality.

You on the other hand are struggling, and it’s pissing you off. You hold on to the half wall and glide. There’s a good amount of people around and honestly, it’s embarrassing. -like- there are even small kids better at it than you. It’d be better if you just stopped. There are probably other activities you could do. Ice skating (or skiing) is not the end all be all of Switzerland.

Jungkook would probably enjoy skating more with Lena, seeing that they skied together earlier. You question why jungkook even ever liked you in the first place. You’re not cool like Lena or even as adventurous, you do try but you don’t feel it’s enough. He’s better off with someone like her. It’s good you broke up so that he can be free to do whatever. The thought stabs at your heart.

Jungkook spots you from where he is walking out. The look on your face anything but happy. He’s swift to skating to you, making sure not to bump into anymore with how fast he’s moving. “Where you going?”

His concerned and soft voice only intensifies your frustration. Could he not see how irritated and bad at this you are. He was probably too busy to notice. He’s always busy.

 “You haven’t even travelled the while ring.” He chuckles awkwardly as you step off. He follows.

“I don’t know, I’m just not feeling it.” You don’t even dare look at him, because you know if you do your frustration will win and you’ll end up yelling or crying. And both are too embarrassing to do in public.

Jungkook scoffs. Jungkook can’t tell what’s going on with you but it’s definitely disturbing your ability to enjoy anything. He wants you to enjoy. But what’s irritating him is how you don’t want to communicate what you’re feeling to him. He’s always made himself a safe space for you to open up. But you never take it. Ever since he m0ved you’ve been distant, physically and emotionally. It’s frustrating cause all he wants is to be close to you in all ways. “You were not feeling skiing and now you’re not feeling this?”

Is he blaming you for not enjoying this? It’s not your fault you feel this way. You don’t even want to be feeling like this. You do want to enjoy skating, gosh you want to, so bad. But there’s just so much you’re holding on too that pretending can’t solve.

“Jungkook I’m not any good at this.” You gesture around eyes starting to sting when you watch how other people have fun while you argue. “You just go have fun with your Leni or Lena whatever.” You act like you aren’t sure of her name.

It’s the way you say it, the force and strain in the word. The way you look to the crowd in a jittering stare looking for her that let’s jungkook know what this is all about. Did it come off like that? She’s just a girl he met whilst skiing, he honestly never thought that far. Never thought you’d be thinking of it.

“Is this because of her?” he questions eyebrows furrowed trying to look at your face that’s staring down. Why the hell are this shoe laces so hard to untie. you just want to cut them off, but you’d probably have to pay for damages. Shit

Your frustration is replaced with another type of embarrassment, when jungkook is on his knee to replace his hands with yours to help you take the laces off. You just want the ground to swallow you right now. Unlike you Jungkook’s calmness is able to take the laces off. He tries to help you into your other shoes but you just brush him off. He moves.

Standing up and looking at you he asks. Voice calm like usual. “Is it?” you’d even forgotten his previous question. Do you have to answer him?

“I don’t know how it would be when you two are off to the other side of the ring. I’ve barely talked to her.” That’s exactly the problem why the heck do you feel like this when you haven’t gotten to know the girl. You barely know her intentions.

“It is.”

You groan rolling your eyes. “If you want help skating, I can help you. I’m sorry that I got carried away.” It’s probably one of the things you’re mad about. He just fucking left you like you didn’t make plans to come here together. Yeah, maybe your attitude made the distance between you, but he should know how to deal with it by now. Gosh you’ve been together for a good 3 years. He should know how you are.

And he does. That’s why he insists you’re acting like this cause of Lena. well, she’s probably just a catalyst and there’s something deeper that you two have to address.

You stand looking up at him, but he’s towering figure doesn’t make you as intimidating as you want to feel. “You don’t have to be sorry about anything, why? Cause you always know what you’re doing.”

“You know it’d be better if you just said it directly.” Whatever it is, because he wants to know. You want to walk past him but his hand around your wrist stops you. You look at it then at him. He’s not smiling, but not mad. Just concerned.

“I don’t--I’m not saying anything.” You snatch it form his grip and he lets you.

Jungkook’s face scrunches up in frustration. “That’s what you always say, then pull shit like this.”

You pause and stare at right in his--round eyes that are now, siren. “Shit like what?”

“This. Your fucking attitude.” He almost loses his tone but remembers that you’re in public, which is so fucking embarrassing. “You never want to talk about things.” He looks around for any watching eyes.

You just glare at him. Maybe you don’t like expressing yourself to him anymore. You’ve noticed it too. It had been hard for you to express yourself to him over a call, and sometimes shitty network. There had been days where you wanted to cry on his shoulders but only had the screen to rely on, so guess what you did. Nothing. You didn’t cry, you didn’t tell him anything. You’d just cry on your pillow after the call ends. “Maybe I don’t cause I know you won’t listen.”

That’s a hit to his ego. To him as a person.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. I always listen to you.” The blank look on your face has him questioning himself. “of course, I’m not perfect.”

You chuckle bitterly.

“Just go off to your little girlfriend.” And there it is, a confirmation of what he already knew.

You start walking to the entrance. And he follows. Shoes on. He’s not going to be able to skate with the heaviness in his heart. He’d end up sinking into the ice, which doesn’t sound so bad right now. “Come on.” He swiftly moves to standing Infront of you. He blocks you from moving and you just give up and just decide to look at his jaw, not wanting to look directly at him. Which was not a good idea, cause of how he clenches it. You look up into his eyes. “you’re jealous?”

“Who?” he’s a parrot and now you’re an owl, he wants to say but finds it inappropriate for your mood.

“You are so jealous.”

“I’m no-”

“don’t lie to me.” You try to push at his chest for him to move out of your way, but your plan backfires giving him leeway to hold your hand firmly to his chest. Hard as a rock even through he’s sweater. “Tell me why you’re jealous.”

Instead of answering him directly you try to change the topic. You swear you can feel his heart beat through his sweater.

“Don’t act like I couldn’t see you jealous too when that guy approached me.” You try to one-up.

“I was jealous.” His confession has you wanting you dig a hole and hide yourself. It’s so easy for him to say, you weren’t even enjoying your conversation with that guy. “Difference with me is that I can say it.”

Shit. Shit. What do you say now. Get angrier, that always works, well not really.

“Whatever. I’m not jealous.” You look away from him. Are you really doing this in public. Jungkook doesn’t look like he gives a fuck right now, he just wants an answer. One which he’s not going to get.

“Tell me what you’re so jealous about?” his voice lowers

“How many times do I have to say I’m not jealous.” Till you can’t deny it anymore, the thought runs through Jungkook’s mind.  “Just go have your fun.” You finally decide you’re tired of feeling his heart beat perfectly.

“you’re so ridiculous y’know.” He watches you move slight away, anger not faltering one bit. You’re determined to being upset. “can’t we just talk about this. It seems to be bothering you.”

It is. It’s fucking gnawing at your heart, your lungs, your mind.

“Nothing’s bothering me, I’m fine.” You breathe in, relaxing and calming down just a bit. “I just don’t want to be out there all on my own, while you’re having fun with some else.” Jungkook licks his lip. He doesn’t have anything else to say. What he has to say can’t be said here or whilst you’re unable to hear.

“I’m going home.” You pass by him and he doesn’t bother turning to watch you walk out.

“Korea?” it’s possible for you to want to leave. And the thought causes him to bite down hard on his bottom lip. Cause if you leave on these terms, nothing’s gonna change and he’d never get another chance. You’d avoid him like the plague.

“No, the cabin.” You state and he’s relieved. “Have fun.”

“Everything okay?” jungkook is startled by Lena’s voice who walked around to find him after she noticed he was gone.

“Yeah.” You force a smile. “I’ll just get going.” He informs her. He already has his stuff so there’s no need for him to go back inside. “Thanks for getting us in, though we didn’t even stay long.”

“No problem. It was fun, wish I got to talk to her.”

“Yeah, she isn’t normally like that.” Cause you aren’t.

“I understand.”

You don’t immediately go to the cabin. Instead, you go to the sauna you had been eyeing. It could probably be the only way to relax you. The sweat dripping down will mask the real tears falling down your face. You’re glad you’re alone right now.

You have your head leaned back thinking about what had just previously happened. The thoughts not wanting to leave you.

You hear the door open but you don’t bother looking, you’ve got a lot to think about. “hey stranger..” the familiar voice speaks just as shocked. You sharply open your eyes. Wondering if it’s you he’s speaking to but you’re just the two of you in here.

You’re just the two of you.

“didn’t expect to find you here.” He says setting himself down just in front of you and you looking at him oddly. Do you have bad luck?

“hmm” you chuckle awkwardly. You make a plan to gradually scoot yourself to the door. Being with him here does make you uncomfortable but you try to stay to enjoy what’s left of your time. You expect silence but the man doesn’t see on the same level. “Went to the Lindt factory like you said. Was honestly the best of everything.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” you say like you’re a worker at the factory or care.

“It would’ve been better if you came too.”

You awkwardly chuckle and finally decide to sit up. You came here to think and relax but this guy couldn’t be more of a bother. “I’m sure I would’ve just made it worse.”

He chuckles and smiles your way. A smile you do not reciprocate “I doubt.”

“Is your friend around?” Now you should fucking leave.

“Mm?” you ask like you didn’t hear. Fucking sirens are blaring. He’s not giving off I’m gonna leap at your vibe. It’s more of his inability to give up that bugs you. “Oh- ahh yeah. He’s gonna be here.”

He turns to look at the door like Jungkook’s about to walk through the door, but he doesn’t. gosh you wish he would. “isn’t it hard to have male friends like him.” You look at him brows furrowed, confused. You wait for him to elaborate and he’s quick to it. “Protective.” He says.

“how?”

“makes it hard for you to live your live and get to know people.” You laugh. it’s not like jungkook has his hands on you and pulling you away from people who want to talk to you. He’s actually for it but he just has a good discernment of creeps. As you sit here you reflect on his words from before when you initially met the guy. Gosh you should really start listening to jungkook. Makes you realize how right he is—sometimes--

“no.” your tone is sharp that the soft one you’d been giving him.

He shakes his head. He lifts his hands in defence saying, “I think he’s doing too much.” Now you’re getting upset, visibly so, which is not lost to the man. Who the fuck does he thinks he is. He’s the one doing too much, “I’m not some weirdo, I promise.” He hasn’t shown any signs of it yet, but you don’t give a fuck and you’re not gonna wait around for him to show it.

“I think you’re doing too much.” You snare abruptly standing up. He can tell the irritation on your face and is about to defend himself but you’re quick to cutting in. you’re not about to have it.

“I don’t know how your long your trip is but if you see me around, please don’t speak to me.”

“Wait.” You don’t.

Sauna time done you decide to go back to the cabin, feeling anything but relaxed. Daylight already lost.

Today has honestly knocked you out, as though you’ve done anything energy straining. It’s more of an emotional strain. When you walk in jungkook isn’t anywhere to be seen. So, you just assume he never got back. Makes you wonder where the hell he is and why he didn’t tell you, but you’re in no place to convict him cause you never informed him of your sauna endeavours as well. You’re both grown adults and can move around Switzerland without the other—but—why do you feel entitled to know where he is. You lost those privileges when you broke up and now when you left him at the rink.

Maybe a steamy shower will do what the sauna didn’t finish cause of you interruption. After that you decide to end your night early, you’ve got nothing to do after all.

you toss and turn in bed, barely able to get a linear sleeping time. Everything just feels so weird and off. Even worse than in the beginning. It’s all a different type of awkward, which you hate. Jungkook isn’t sleeping next to you which prompts you to checking the time.

1:39am your phone tells you.

Where the hell is he, you’re starting to get scared. You’re not worried about his safety cause jungkook is very capable in that sector, --well unless he got shot—shot?  Why are thinking of that. Who’d fucking shot him, let alone in Switzerland. He’s never been in any trouble with the law or anyone. You’re getting paranoid, if you don’t see jungkook in the flesh, well and not wounded, you’re gonna lose your mind.

Putting on the sweater that has been a staple and carried you through the trip you walk out the bedroom to the open floor living room. you sigh when you don’t spot jungkook. You won’t be able to go back to sleep even if you wanted to. Cause you don’t feel like it and are losing your mind. As you’re standing in the living room like an anxiety ridden mom waiting for their teenager child at midnight, you hear it. It’s wood chopping sounds. Harsh and fast. You do have some cabins around you so it could be your neighbours—but no--the sound is closer to yours, like it’s just outside. So, you curiously walk to the door which would lead you closer to the sound. Maybe you aren’t as afraid cause you assume it’s jungkook. And it is.

You relax when you spot his figure well and healthy.

He doesn’t notice as you stand watching him. bottom lip chewed down on. Why the hell is he chopping wood at 1 in the morning.

You want to say something. You need to. Maybe apologize about what happened at the rink, you have a fair share in the argument. Since waking up or maybe after the sauna you realized how childish your behaviour was. You ruined the moment. When you could’ve just asked jungkook to help you and he would’ve been there, hadn’t you chosen to give into your irritation. Irritation of seeing him with a woman. There you said it.

His muscles flex as he moves to drop the axe down on the wood.

This is not what you want for you and jungkook. Arguing and not able to talk or share air. It’s not what you want. Even if things do officially end, you’d want to end it on calm and friendlier terms.

As you watch him you notice how his jaw tightens. He’s not just chopping wood. You start to worry for him when his movements grow harsher, of the larger chunk of wood.

“What did the wood do to you?” you try to be neutral.

He didn’t notice you behind him. So, he’s startled by the sound of your voice. Turning to look at you holding yourself in the door way, he chooses to take a break. He got so carried away he forgot he was cutting wood for the fire place and had cut too much. He drops the axe into snow. “Ditched me at the ice rink.” He says going to pick up some pieces of wood to bring inside.

Fuck you feel so bad. You stay silent watching him until he’s brought all the wood in and finally closing the door. Which allows for the warmth from the now blazing fire to fill the house. Now in warmer climate, jungkook takes off his large sweater and you drop your arms that were still wrapped around you.

“I’m sorry about that.” You mumble softly. He stands at the sink, you assume to make himself something warm.

“it’s okay, it’s not like I went all the way to stay in touch with some girl so she could get me—us--a good deal at the ice rink. Then I take you there and you ditch the thing entirely.”

You do feel horrible about to, but his tone irritates you causing you to respond as just that. Which you immediately regret.

“I left you with her, weren’t you happy with that.” You have an interesting way of saying things that bother you.

Jungkook pauses his actions and stares at you with a seriously confused face. He scoffs. You’re not making sense. “You know that’s not what I wanted.” He returns to his mug. “I wanted to spend it with you.” His voices calms.

Fuck. Uhm what do you say. You should probably say you’re sorry. “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook just listening. He just doesn’t understand, he wishes you could just be straight forward. Frustrated and tired of hiding behind a task, he drops the cup to give you, his attention.

“Did I say something wrong?” you stand where you are but jungkook moves. To you. You panic but he doesn’t walk closer than a few feet from you. You don’t know how you’d handle yourself if he came any closer. At the rink you almost died. “At the rink?” he clarifies like you’re not fully aware. He just wants to make sure that you’re on the same page. Cause you can think of other times he might have feared he’d said something wrong.  “I honestly shouldn’t even have started talking to her.” He rubs a hand over his face.

Jungkook has never been malicious to you in your friendship before or relationship. Or even now. He’s been cordial. He’s the only man who’s treated so well and calmingly. Of course he has his imperfections, you both do. But it doesn’t take from how well he’s treated you. He never crosses a line.

“it’s not even that.” You’re looking off to the side and holding yourself again,

Gosh, he’s really holding himself right now. He bites his lower lip and clenches his jaw to hold himself back from just walking up to you and making you look him in the eyes. “Then what’s wrong. Please talk to me.” He pleads.

“I don’t know,” you whisper still looking beyond him, your voice is barely audible.

He’s begging, really for you to just tell him something. “Please don’t say that.” He responds, his tone a mix of frustration and pleading. He steps closer just a few centimetres away, if you unfolded your arms you’d probably bump into his chest.

“I don’t-” you start but your voice cuts you off, “it’s the way you-” you aren’t able to finish. What are you going to do with yourself. This is embarrassing, you can barely form or organize your thoughts and your mouth can barely move to speak. You’re not even going to talk about how hard it is for you to look him in the eyes. You just settle with staring at his other supporting features. His hair, his ears (that are red from what you assume is frustration—it’s not--), his eyebrows and then you skip to look at his nose--

“was it me talking to that girl?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You push away slightly.

“But we have--you know what--I want to.” He moves to block your action of walking away. You thought you were strong enough. You thought you’d manage to talk about this. But you can’t. not when it makes you want to cry.  “I want to talk about it.” His voice is stern but not harsh. It’s just strong enough to let you know he’s not letting this go. It’s funny how something so insignificant can cause you to be in this situation. Forced to express and confront your emotions, the one’s you’ve been running from since the trip began, the one’s you told yourselves you’d pretend didn’t exist. You fooled yourselves by dodging the topic.

Now you’re here. “While we’re at it we can talk about why you broke up with me.” He’s not asking if you can talk about it, he’s telling you it has to be talked about and he’s not gonna let it go by. Not this time.

At his words, all your emotions unite to form a single unit of defence. “me? you agreed too.” You point at him face scowling.

“I only did cause it’s what you wanted, and I didn’t want to hold you back.”

You stare confused. “Hold me back from what?” what the fuck does he think you’ve been doing. You hope he doesn’t think you’ve been out and about since breaking up, that’s been the last thing on your mind.

“From living the life, you wanted to, without me.” His upset at the thought leading his voice to come out a little passive aggressive.

He does think that, you can see it. “Without you? I don’t want that.” You state. “But how can I live a life with you when you’re miles away, always busy. And can barely visit.” You just talk. Finally, your gears are moving. But the problem is that so are the tears. “You moving away is you choosing to live without me too.” You choke on your words a little. “Even I didn’t want to tie you to me or hold you back from your dreams that’s why I tried to li- live with it, but it got so unbearable kook. I couldn’t take it. it felt like I was alone. In fact, I was alone.”

Jungkook feels sick hearing that you felt alone.

“You know I did try.” His voice is soft, moving himself into your circle. You let him. He can’t help himself but cup your cheek. The action feels comforting, almost relieving. At least he’s here and you’re not talking over the phone, makes it much easier for you to sink into his touch.

You hold the wrist that’s caressing your cheek. Gosh you want to keep his touch here forever. “I know that’s what hurts more you tried but it still wasn’t enough. I really did want it to work. I still do.” On your last sentence you look up at him and he’s already staring at you, the thump of his other hand coming swiftly to wipe your stray tears. You sniffle. “Cause honestly I’ve missed you kook.” You feel comforted playing with the end of his sweater.  “So much. I miss how we were before you moved. When it was easier for us to be together.” your fingers take a journey from the bottom of his sweater to the neck.

Your palms lay flat on his chest and his hands move to softly hold your wrist, not to move you away but you keep there.

“I know we said we’d pretend. A-and I thought I could. But I can’t kook.” On cue with his name, you look up at him. “fuck- I never knew how much I hate seeing you talk to other—" you can’t finish your sentence, but it’s okay cause he’s finished for you in his mind. “I’m sorry for attitude.”

He glides his hands from your wrists down your arms until they are both on your waist. “I’m sorry too.” He’s pulling you closer, your hands still on his chest, but now for stability. “I’m so sorry I was too distracted for you. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t serve that.” He’s caressing your back. “okay?” you have to answer but you can only bring yourself to nodding. All he’s ever wanted was to know. Know what was wrong and how he could fix it.

“I’ve missed you too.” He smiles lightly bringing his nose to brush against yours. The action has you tilting your head upwards. His lips itch to touch yours, but they don’t they just hover, he still has more to say. And he wants to say it close enough for you to feel it. “If only you knew how I dreaded every morning and realized you weren’t next to me. Every time I just wanted to fly back home.”

“So, what stopped you.” You’re looking at his lips. his rosy and moist lips from how hard he’s been biting and licking on that. You wanna do that. You wanna kiss him, wanna be the only biting down on his lips.  you wanna do a lot of things right now. You wanna run your hands through his hair remind yourself of its texture, you wanna lift that sweater off, that holds his cologne so well, the earthy lavender scent, that crawls its way through your system. You wanna take that sweater off him, --feel, see—just how much that gym membership as proved itself valuable. You know you won’t be disappointed, jungkook loves the fucking gym.

“I don’t even know. But all I know is that it’s not gonna stop me anymore.” Him nudging his nose closer has you tilting your head to meet his lips. the air between you feels heavy. The feeling pulling your lips to meet. And when the do, it’s fervent. His kiss is urgent but slow, not wanting to be apart from you for a second.

 Your bodies are hooked together as Jungkook is moving you back into a wall. The kiss intensifies when he leans your head back with his hand around your neck. You’re gripping onto his sweater for support and breathing him in for life.

Jungkook clings onto your lips for life too, even if he needs to breath he doesn’t stop. You moaning into his mouth will suffice. He doesn’t know where to keep his hands. Should he use them to tilt your head back to deepen the kiss, (if he goes any deeper he’s gonna sink.) whilst he uses the other to pull you leg up by your thighs, his grip surely leaving crescent moons as decorations. He doesn’t know what to do with them. For the moment he uses them to pull he sweater over his head. You’ve been clawing at it to come off.

Now shirtless you can feel his skin for what you remember it to be silky-smooth. So delicate that you fear leaving scratch marks on him, but jungkook encourages it, he begs you to do it. Your hands roam his body, first his large back, muscles flexed, then down his firm chest then down to his defined midsection. “What am I to do with all this.” You say breathless.

“You tell me. It’s all yours.” Your lips are meeting again. Tongues tagging at each other. For some reason the rich, sweet and completely irresistible taste of chocolate lingers on your lips, but he loves it and is drinking it up.

Jungkook finds that his hands are better at gripping your thigh and lifting it to wrap around his waist. His core moves into you and you feel how hard he is against you. You’re thankful for his thin pajama pants.

Your hands pull at the root of his hair, though it’s shorter you make it work, making him groan into your mouth. You both can’t fucking breath at this point, which is the only reason you’re pulling away. Your heavy breaths brushing against each other.

“jungk-” you’re moaning for him to take you to bed but he’s steps ahead of you. Your feet don’t have to fret cause he’s lifting you by the thighs to lay you on the edge of the bed.

You lay back on the bed but legs on his shoulder, he’s kneeling between your legs. Your pants are still on but not for long. In a swift motion you’re left in your plain black panties. The ones with the little bow. He chuckles at the detail. When you see what he’s laughing at you get self conscious. Jungkook looks up at you confused why you’re closing your legs.

“I didn’t know we’d be in this position, so these are the one I brought.” You try to explain yourself cheeks blushing red. He doesn’t know why you’re so insecure about the detail. He loves them.

For a quick kiss he’s on his feet hovering over you. “it’s okay, I like my gifts wrapped in bows.” He smirks and the comment has you calling out his name in shock. peck. He’s back on his knees staring at your core. The bow is a detail he’ll miss but he’d gotta take them off. Fuck is all he can think when your cunt is right in front of him, wet. Is this where he’s meant to die, right in your cunt from suffocation cause he won’t be able to detach himself from you.

Your legs are planted on his shoulder, your ass just at the edge of the bed. When he first swipes his tongue through your folds, it takes you by surprise. Gosh you missed him being right there.

“fuck” you whimper the sound not being able to be masked. Your slick, probably mixed with his saliva, drips down your cunt, down his chin. His nose is so deep in it that some of your juices run up his nose. Is this how fucking cocaine sniffers feel?  He can’t wait till his cock is buried snuggly it. He sniffs in, on purpose this time, takin git once more. You grind on his face making him suck harder at your clit. You’re getting dizzy and gripping hard at the sheets. His nails dig into your thighs harshly, the pain causing pleasure.

Everything is so intense you can’t tell apart your orgasm. Fuck you can’t be coming this fast from just his tongue. Shit. “Jungkook. Don’t stop” You whine the intense feeling approaching quick, your walls tightening and fluttering around his tongue. Jungkook’s so carried away he only realizes you’re coming when your legs are shaking. He drinks everything that leaves and it’s only when you’re pulling his head back from overstimulation that he realizes he should take a breath. He’s starved can you blame him?

“you’re so gorgeous baby.” he says peppering kisses on your thighs. “Wanna do that again for me.” He’d absolutely would eat you out for a second time in a row. And you’d love that but you just want to feel him.

You’re moving up the bed and he’s hovering over you kissing your jaw. Your palms meet his ass in a teasing smack.

“Missed this ass.” You smile under him. jungkook just chuckles. you want to add on but his finger stuffing your tight cunt has you silent, gasping for air.

Jungkook smiles down at your pleasure strained face. “mm? not so talkative now?”

He thinks he’s got you. Then you slide down your hand down his abs, he knows where your hand travels and though it’ll destroy his ego, he lets you do it. “so big” you bite your bottom lip as you start stroking him, using your own juices as lubricate. He’s walls are falling. Your hand wrapped around him, has him burying his moans in the croak of your neck.

It’s a competition huh? he loves those second and fucking your cunt first.

You’re stroking him in his pants and he’s pumping his fingers in your cunt. He’s kissing you to hide his moans. It’s a fucking competition and he’s losing. He can’t lose. His hand leaves your cunt to grab at your wrist. You stop. He pulls you away from him. if you went on any longer, he’d be done for and the night wouldn’t end the way he wants. He hasn’t been touched in a year, unless it’s talking about those times you sexted, but it doesn’t count. It feels different when it’s your hands.

“why’d you do that?” you whine.

“If you did that you wouldn’t have gotten the orgasms I have left for you.” You don’t respond. you won’t argue, you do want them.

His fingers are back to pumping and even sooner than before your climax approaches. He wishes he could count just how much you flutter around his finger but he’s too busy looking at your face, pleasure written all over it. and its pride that fills him, knowing he’s the one giving it to you.

Jungkook moves away and you watch how he licks his fingers clean. The way he smiles at you after, is disgustingly hot.

“Take off your pants.” You tell him.

“You take off your shirt.” He reciprocates, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing anything.

Jungkook is spoiled by the sight before him, your chest sprawled out for him to taste. So, he leans down and wraps his tongue around a nipple. His hand lost at the other side. You love all the foreplay, really, but you want him. you’ve been thinking about it for forever.

“Jungkook.” You call. He hums saying you have his attention. “I want you.”

There’s nothing more he wants.

“Want you too baby.” He says grabbing his cock and aligning it with your entrance. Then he remembers.

“fuck” he whispers. You sit up and wander what has him holding back.

“what?”

“I don’t have a condom.” He knows he doesn’t have one, it’d be weird, it’s not like he was coming on this trip expecting to fuck you.

“Why?” he stares at you confused.

“I didn’t expect fucking to be on the itinerary.”

Oh yeah, you laugh at himself.

“Do you?”

“Nope. Why would I have them.” He just shrugs his shoulders.

He’s gonna lose it. “Are you on the pill?” it’s his only option.

That’s when you shake your head. “Got off when we broke up.”

Okay so what is he gonna do, his cock hard and your cunt right in front of him.

“Jungkook come on you can pull out.” You whine pulling him forward.

She shakes his head. “god no. I almost lost my mind from your hand. It’d lose it in your pussy.” You smile, you shouldn’t be laughing cause you won’t be able to fuck. But you just can’t help but smile at the fact that he almost lost himself just from your hand. You’ve got no clue on what to do. You really need to fuck him.

“Wait--” he looks at you. “This is a lover’s cabin.” You say but he waits for you to elaborate and make sense.

“wouldn’t they have condoms in the cupboard or something.” He didn’t think of that.

So, as you stand you walk over to the cupboard roughly open it almost tipping it over. “Bingo!” you celebrate pulling out a long string of condoms. Your saving grace.

You carefully pull out one and toss it to jungkook.

“Relax aren’t they the one’s you usually use,” you say when you see the look on his face. They do look like they’ve just been purchased and placed. He’s so thankful right now. He leans against the head board and you watch how he gracefully he strokes himself and slips it on, your mouth drools but you’re too needy. You’ll do that another day.

“Come ride cow girl.” He welcomes you when he’s all done. You stretch your legs over him, centering yourself. His hands are quick to spread across your ass, landing a light tap.

He helps you centre himself at your entrance. His brows scrunch together when he feels your tight warmth slide down him. he definitely isn’t going to last long, maybe he’ll hold on till you come but after that is not promised.

His hand loosely holds at your throat, just enough to tilt it back slightly and leave wet kisses and marks everywhere on your skin.

You sliding up and down him feels great but he couldn’t help himself but move his fingers to touch your clit. In pure pleasure you’re wrapping your arms around him and kissing him. you love this position, how he nudges at your back, how intimate it feels, the way you’re so close after being so far away. The cold is barely in mind. Jungkook can’t express how much he’s missed you.

You love it.

But what you love more is how he pulls at your hair, just softly. “Love fucking my cock huh?” he asks but you’re unable to answer his hips jutting up into you with great speed. Jungkook could get carried away with the way your boob bounce but he chooses to say focus. “You like that huh?” he smirks but your eyes are closed, the pleasure of his intense strokes taking you out.

“Yeah, love fucking you kook.” You whimper out.

He’s thrusting harder and you’re moaning louder. “you look so pretty taking me baby. Wanna fuck you forever.”

You wish you.

Your body melts into his as you’re coming again, jungkook fucking into you for his own high which follows after yours. When he catches his breath, he’s laying you down and beside you just after throwing the filled condom.

“I’m gonna get the bath started.” He says planting a quick kiss on your shoulder.

You’re too drained to stand so when he’s back to come get you you’re dozing off. “come on baby I’ve got to get you cleaned up.”

You groan. “Then after a I can make you cocoa.”

“I’m so tired kook.” You whine.

“I knowww.” he coos. Next thing you know he’s lifting you, bridal style. “it’s okay I’ve got you.”

“Hmm. Don’t move.” Jungkook whines when you threaten to stand and start your day. You two have already slept in because of your late-night endeavours.

“I have to kook. We have so much for our day.”

“Ugh! Fine. But first give me your hand.” He demands the action has you confused but you give it to him. when he has it, he’s giving you a billion kisses. “I love you.” He doesn’t think it’s too soon cause—well he doesn’t know it just felt right to say.

“I love you too now let me go.” He makes sure not to unhand you until you say it more ‘meaningfully’ according to him.

---

You and jungkook decided to retry ice skating (you were hell bent on not going skiing.)

As you’re skating jungkook slides to the half wall, after telling you he has to take a call. You shoo him away after telling you’ll be fine alone (for the meantime).

“Any news?” jungkook was nervous when he got the call from Namjoon. This is a very important call from him, it determines what the hell he’s gonna choose. Quit or get transferred.

“Yeah. it’s been approved.” Jungkook is still for a moment.

“Seriously?” it almost feels like a dream.

“Yeah, had to do a lot of convincing but they agreed.” He’s so grateful for Namjoon. He’s gonna miss him. Jungkook looks over to you, gliding not great but better, and you’re smiling this time. So, he’s happy. You’re happy.

“Thank you, man,”

Namjoon smiles, he knows how much this means. “No problem.” The call cuts.

This just seals a lot “kook look out.” He pockets his phone and as he’s turning to you, you slam into him. You haven’t gotten to the knowing how to stop just yet. Maybe next time.

“You okay, baby.” He says holding onto you by your waist

You let out a dramatic breath that has him smiling. “Yeah, but I’m getting kinda tired.” You say out of breath and letting your weight fall into his arms.

“I’m getting hungry too.” You’ve spent a good amount of time ice skating so you decide to leave it for next time.

--

“what’s the plan for tonight.” He asks as you eat.

“Hmm. For the first time I don’t know.” You both laugh. “We could go out for dinner—ohhh the hot tub--.” You forgot about it cause none of you ever wanted to use it, honestly you didn’t even expect the place to have a hot tub.

“I like the sound of that.”

The steam of the hot tub hovers lazily on the surface of the water. The steam curls around jungkook as his gaze locks on you. Body dry cause you haven’t gotten in yet. You walk onto the deck, the dim but still bright enough lights radiant off your skin, as though the sun has come to pay him a visit at night.

His breath is caught.

The bikini hugs you in all the ways that made his thoughts falter, the curves of your body illuminated by the soft glow of the light. He swallows hard, his mouth dry despite being surround by water. You make him weak, so much that he looks only at you, even though your attention is else were. You try to find a place to hook your towels.

And then you turn around to smile at him in victory of finding a place to hang them. He nods acknowledging but no paying attention.

He leans back slightly, the water lapping at his shoulders as his eyes roam you, mesmerized. There’s some thing unworldly about you, something he can’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the way you looked, that made him trip for you. It was the way you carried yourself, the way your body swayed as you moved closer to him.

His arms immediately reach out to envelope you. “Enjoying the view?” you tease, your voice relaxing into the tub and his warmth.

The chuckle he releases is low, “you know I am.”

Your giggle like a melody. You wrap your arms around him and he loses his stability for a second before regaining it. “careful.” He murmurs to you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I might drown.”

“I wouldn’t want that.” you peck his lips.

You relax for a while just taking in the night and each other presence.

Jungkook has been meaning to ask, the question eating at his mind.  “Do you want to go back to Korea with me?” it sounds like a dumb question, you came together so you will be leaving together.

But the double meaning lies within and he’s desperate to know your answer.

“What are you saying?” you coo at him. “Aren’t we already going back together.” You’re talking about the tangible stuff, the tickets, the plane, the flying, even the landing and going home. But he doesn’t mean that.

After pecking your shoulder water sticking to his lips, he explains. “I don’t mean physically.”

You stare down at him eyes softening. “kook” you realize the seriousness of his question. And for a second jungkook senses scepticism. So, he panics.

“If it’s bout my job, I’m working on it.” His voice is quick.

That was a fear of yours, even more that he wouldn’t want to move. Jungkook has thought about it, the move was a rush decision he never spoke to anyone about it to ask their opinion or whatever. And honestly the move didn’t bring him much joy, besides the opportunity to adventure Jeju. But apart from that he was away from his family, his friends and you. Everything that made his life.

“Seriously?” you say more shocked than anything else.

“Yeah, Namjoon called me. My transfer got approved.”

 You gasp the water swashing from your movement. “don’t lie to me”

He laughs. “I’m not.”

“I thought you said getting it approved is hard.” You’re finding this so hard to believe.

“It is, I guess I got lucky.”

You squeal moving in to hug him.

“When did you start all this.” It’s along process so he had to start early.

“Honestly before we broke up. I wanted to surprise you if it got approved. But then-” you shush him from going on further.

“So, what would have you done if it didn’t get approved.” Your tone drops.

Jungkook sighs looking around in thought. “would’ve fucking quit.” it’s funny how easy the idea is for him, former him would have struggled with the question. “I’m tired of being so far from you.”

“Same.” He places a longer and soft kiss on your lips.

“So, you wanna go back with me?” His voice is playful, as he looks up at you through wet lashes.

“Mhm.” You smile, leaning slightly closer to him, your fingertips tracing lazy circles on his shoulder. “I wanna go everywhere with you.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, warm and intimate, as his lips lifts into a small, boyish grin. “We can arrange that.”

Jungkook doesn’t mind being patched to your side like a little purse dog. In fact, the way he leans into you now, his hand slipping around your waist as if it were second nature, says he’d prefer it. His thumb grazes your hip absentmindedly, a small gesture that feels both possessive and endearing.

“I’m gonna miss it.” you say leaning into Jungkook's shoulder with a pout. You wait patiently for your flight. “Feels like we just started the trip.”

Jungkook reaches over to cup your hand in his. He then interlocks your fingers and brings it to his lips; the action causes you to smile softly. He really likes to do that. It’d never been a trait of his before, so you’re intrigued, to why he does it all of a sudden. “We can come back one day. together.”

“Yeah together.” You reassure. You like this. Like having him with you.

[3 months later]

“Jimin if you’re gonna wear that to my fucking wedding you’re not coming.” You announce to a jimin too focused on the light blue suit he’s in. in the mirror you can spot his cheeky grin. He’s not gonna wear a freaking light blue suit, it’s not on the colour scheme, plus he doesn’t like how it makes him look.

He turns to look at jungkook who’s standing on his own pedestal looking into the mirror. Touching and teasing at the suit. “Jungkook you’re not gonna let her do that right?.” Jungkook just shrugs his shoulders at jimin. He’s not pleased with the answer. He knew the dude was down bad, but not this down bad. “Bro!”

“she’s the boss.” Jungkook raises his hands in surrender and you smirk in your seat.

“Come on man…standup.” he fists at Jungkook who just laughs. As Jimin is stepping out to get out of the suit (he stayed so long in it you thought he might actually want to wear it.) and get changed, you swat him with a magazine and he’s quick to running out not wanting you to land another hit.

Now alone in the dressing room you walk up to jungkook. You lean your chin on his shoulder, your hands finding there way to his chest. He welcomes them with his own. “You look so handsome.” Your voices hums sweetly by his ear. Jungkook lifts up both of your hands to place soft and warm kisses on them. The action has you blushing red. The ring on your finger and indication of why he liked to do it before. Plus, now, he just enjoys it., it makes you blush and he likes that.

“Mhm.” He hums against your wrists. “You like it?”

“I love it.” You take a hundredth glance at a preview of what he might wear at your wedding. If he chooses it’s what he wants. You love the cut on him. the colour complimenting his skin, and the style shows off his physique, not too much, but not too little. But all the buttons on the vest and shirt are gonna give you some trouble undoing.

Jungkook stares at you completely enamoured at the way you’re looking at it. You should be looking at him like that. “I think you might love the suit more than me.” He turns abruptly causing you to fall into his chest. He catches and keeps you stable with his firm hand on your lower back.

You place one hand on his chest and the other around his neck, bringing you much closer. “I might just.” Your lips could meet easily with how close you are. But you don’t move them and jungkook pouts at how you deny him the opportunity.

“I’m gonna take it off, not gonna let you love it more.” He nudges his nose with yours.

“Take it off.”

“Jeon Yn! I forgot how freaky you are.” You roll your eyes at how he’s already given you his last name, you like the sound of it though. Reminds you of how real this is, you’re not dreaming.

Trying to tease him more you move by his ear to whisper, “Not here though.”

Jungkook is biting his lower lip. “We should hurry then.” he moves to kiss your shoulder, your off-the-shoulder top giving him leeway to kiss your skin directly. He peppers more kisses from your shoulder to your neck before  you get carried away you’re prompting for him to turn around. He does, though reluctantly.

You giggle.

“Do you like it though?” your voice turns serious, as much as you like it and how you just want to see him in it the whole day. If he likes it matters.

“Yeah, it makes me look so…husband.” He smiles boyishly as he winks at you in the mirror.

“Oh-gosh.” You push yourself away from him to get back to your seat. You’re not gonna be here all day.

He turns to face you. Still standing on the pedestal. “When do I get to see you in your dress” His teeth play with his lip ring as he asks curiously. The thought of you in the gown exciting him.

“When I walk down the aisle.” You stare blankly, no room for discussion. And he doesn’t, you’ve been quite stern about him not seeing you in any bridal wear until the wedding. Which he doesn’t mind, he can wait.

“Make sure it’s a ball gown so that I can slip under and hide.” He gestures his hands to elaborate what he means.

You shake your head. It’s not your style, maybe when you were a child, but you’ve grown. “I’m not wearing a ball gown.”

Ditching the jacket, he places it next to you and stands closing your legs between his. He lowers himself so your nose is touching his. His arms trap you between him and the couch. You didn’t think he was not gonna get that kiss right? He kisses you softly, then again. Then a little harder the third time, this one lasting seconds longer. You hold on his waist for stability. He kisses you once more just for the sake.

“I’m very sure you’ll look divine in whatever you pick, baby.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: so that's that. I hope I've fixed your broken heart from I-redo. there are scenes that i couldn't fit in. Yes of course there are other activities they did, but if i wrote it all it would be boring and too long and would probably be pushed to next month. i wish i could've written more fluff but idk.

i will allow for story drabble request if you guys want that.

but yeah thanks, for reading, liking and commenting. much love. wishing you a happy new year.

story idea copyright of keen-li, 30.12.24

[sundrop-writes]

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary:

While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can’t live without each other.

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 4, Episode 3.

Word Count: 8,200

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: Lots of spoilers for the canon episode - so if you haven’t watched Season 4 of Criminal Minds yet, steer clear of this fic for now (especially because watching the episode provides some context for this fic/makes things make more sense); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant (she is not pregnant during the fic and there’s no smut, but due to discussions in the fic, it’s not unreasonable that she could get pregnant); fake dating in the form of a fake marriage - the reader and Spencer pretend to be married under the Christian religion to ‘appeal’ to Cyrus; because of the fake marriage, Spencer uses the term 'my wife’ to refer to the reader; lots of mentions of religion (Christianity), religious extremism, mentions of pedophilia/child brides (in line with the canon episode); mentions of systemic sexism and gender roles enforced by cultures of organised religion and religious extremism; use of y/n and l/n (in this case meaning 'your last name’); the reader pretends to follow the Christian religion while undercover but I never stated if she believes in a less extreme version of these things or not (the reader’s true religious beliefs are never stated); protective!Spencer, possessive!Spencer; mentions of Spencer being taller than the reader (which, again, I think he would be taller than most people) - the reader’s body/body type is not described in any other way; mentions of guns and gun violence (not described in deep detail) - in line with the canon episode; the reader and Spencer fear for their lives; dangerous/live-threatening situations; the reader and Spencer are threatened with a gun; Cyrus is just generally creepy and sexist toward the reader; Spencer is pistol-whipped and the reader is threatened with sexual assault (it does not happen, Spencer protects her); mentions of pregnancy/the reader being pregnant (she is not pregnant during the course of the fic); mentions of the reader being a mother/having kids (Spencer makes up fake kids to sell their fake marriage story); the reader realizes she might actually want to be a mother because of Spencer’s fake kids story; mentions of an explosion (as in the canon); love confessions; angst with a happy ending. Hopefully that is everything.

A/N: The title for this fic comes from a Fall Out Boy song of the same name. The theme/lyrics of the song don’t really fit the fic, but I love the way that this title fits - how everyone in this fic is lying in some way but Spencer is someone with good intentions while lying. Making him the Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes. I love how it fits. I wrote this while suffering with heat exhaustion so idk if it’s good or even makes sense. I rewatched the canon episode and it doesn’t 100% align with what happened in the episode in terms of the timeline and stuff, and I am too tired to rewrite the whole fic to make it align with the episode. So uh - alternative canon? But I really love the basic concepts and I do really love how it turned out. I hope you guys like it too!

...

You thought it would be an easy day. 

Maybe that was foolish on your part. So far, you hadn’t seen a single ‘easy’ day while working with the BAU. Between chasing down scumbags and then reliving every single gory detail while doing the paperwork - none of it was ‘easy’. It was worthy, accomplished work - making the world a safer place to live in. (At least that’s what you told yourself.) But it was never easy. 

There was always someone who made the job easier. Someone who made you smile every single day - especially on days when you didn’t think you were even capable of feeling a tiny shred of joy. Someone who made you feel safe, who you always felt had your back no matter what. So you were glad that he was by your side today, along for the ride. 

“Tell us about Cyrus.” Reid prompted. 

He looked to the woman driving, your new companion for the day - Nancy Lunde, someone who worked with the state department and had set up the interviews with the children at the Separatarian Sect. 

“Benjamin Cyrus. No criminal record. In fact, there’s no record of the guy at all.” Nancy explained. 

“That’s odd.” You commented. “Usually someone being accused of something like this would have some past offenses. Especially because it would give him a reason to move into isolation to continue the criminal pattern of behavior.” 

“Well, I couldn’t find anything on him.” Nancy shrugged. 

“What about the 9-1-1 call?” You asked. 

“A fifteen year old girl called in saying that a man was ‘laying with her’ and claimed it as ‘God’s will’. I believe the ‘he’ referred to is Cyrus.” Nancy explained. “The age fits with Jessica Evanson, but I’ve managed to negotiate interviews with all the children, just to be sure. It wasn’t easy.” 

“They’re incredibly weary of outsiders.” You commented. “Our boss warned you not to identify us as FBI, right?” 

Nancy nodded. “I got you some spare credentials, just in case.” 

She took one of her hands off the wheel and reached into her pocket.

“You’re going to be using your real names. You’re going in as Child Victim Interview Experts working with Child Protective Services. No association with the FBI.” Nancy explained, handing Reid your fake credentials. 

He nodded, inspecting the IDs before handing you yours where you were sitting in the backseat. 

“Oh, before I forget.” You noted, reaching into the pocket of your cardigan. “The rings.” 

You pulled out a small plastic bag that Hotch had given to you before you left. It was a bag containing a fake diamond ring in your size and a fake golden ‘wedding’ band for Spencer. 

Reid reached over the seat to grab his ring from you, and Nancy gave the two of you an odd look. 

“Rings?” She questioned. 

“Fake wedding bands.” You explained. 

“It was our Unit Chief’s idea.” Reid added on. “He believes that presenting us as a ‘godly’ married couple to Cyrus will make him more likely to open up to us. He’s less likely to see us as hostile outsiders if he believes that we share a similar system of beliefs.” 

“It could also have a calming effect on the teenagers we have to interview or the kids there who have had more time to go through indoctrination at the Sect.” You continued to explain. “Even if their parents are hesitant to let the kids speak with us, they may be more willing to have their child speak with us or even leave them alone with us if they believe that we’re fellow Christians, rather than hostile atheists there to poison their children’s minds.” 

Reid nodded at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Make sure you put on the left hand.” He told you. “That’s the position for marriage.” 

You nodded at this. 

You placed the ring in the appropriate position, and you couldn’t help but to take a moment and stare at it. It was jarring to have a wedding ring on - especially with the thought that it represented you being married to Spencer. But you supposed, of all the people to call your husband, he would be one of the best. He was honest, intelligent, kind, and… if you were pressed, you would definitely say he was handsome. 

But you couldn’t get too caught up thinking about all of that. Because it wasn’t real. It was a false projection you were wearing for the benefit of a self inflated sociopath. 

Spencer liked the feeling of the ring. He didn’t take too long to stare at it after he had put it on, because he knew his mind would wander if he did. When Hotch had first proposed the idea of the two of you pretending to be married, Spencer had almost tripped over himself to oppose it - mostly because he didn’t think that he would be able to handle simply pretending to be your husband for the day. It was just too cruel. 

Having something he wanted so badly dangled right in front of him and knowing that it was all just a farce - it bothered him, but he delighted in the play nonetheless. 

When he caught the fake gold glinting in the light, Spencer had to remind himself that it was fake - that you would just be playing his wife for the day. He had to push back any internal glee that he felt at the idea that he got to be ‘taken’ by you while wearing that ring. It wasn’t real. It was just for the day. 

“Isn’t that deceptive?” Nancy asked. “Won’t Cyrus be even more angry if he finds out that it’s not true?” 

“He won’t find out.” You replied confidently. “And besides, we use deception in interrogations all the time. It’s a very basic tactic: align yourself with the suspect. Make them think you share the same beliefs, that you’re on their side.” 

Reid grinned at this. He always loved it when you spoke so confidently. 

… 

“We’re looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus.” Nancy announced as the three of you got out of the car. 

“Then you’ve found him.” Cyrus announced confidently. 

He was pretty much what you had expected him to be - dressed informally, slouched over, faking meekness, holding a bible near his chest as though it were a shield. He had planted himself there purposefully, wanting to be the first person to interact with the outsiders as three of you came into the Ranch. 

You hovered back near Spencer, letting Nancy make the first introduction. 

“I’m Nancy Lunde.” She said, giving a small nod toward the man. “We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.” 

“‘Savages they call us, because our manners differ from theirs.’” Cyrus rhymed off a quote, obviously positioning himself and his group as martyrs being attacked for having ‘different ways’ that the world simply didn’t understand. 

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus.” Nancy reminded him, hoping to keep the religious zealot on track. 

“Actually, it’s Benjamin Franklin.” Reid corrected her, talking about the quote. 

That did surprise you, but you didn’t find it surprising that Reid knew this fact right off the top of his head. It was just one of the many amazing things about him - his perfect memory and his ability to use it. 

Of course, him saying this immediately drew Cyrus’ attention toward the two of you. So Spencer stepped up to introduce you. 

“Hello, I’m Spencer Reid, and this is my wife, Y/N L/N.” He said motioning toward himself and then to you as he introduced the two of you. Hearing him refer to you as his wife - you hated to say it, but it caused a jolt through your system. Almost as if you had been waiting forever to hear him say those words and hadn’t even known it yourself. “We’re Child Victim Interview Experts, here on behalf of Child Protective Services.” 

Of course, you couldn’t get too caught up in deciphering how those words made you feel, because you had to focus on the task at hand. The job that you were here to do. 

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be a need to invent a job called ‘Child Victim Interview Expert’.” Cyrus said, his tone even, quiet. 

You knew that covertly, it was his way of saying that the two of you didn’t belong there, because he ran the Ranch with God’s word, so nobody had actually been harmed (in his opinion). He believed that he had done nothing wrong. Obviously, he thought your time and resources were better spent with ‘actual’ victims who didn’t have his power wielded over their lives. 

“I can assure you, Mr. Cyrus, we try to bring God into our work.” You told him, trying to appeal to him. “The children we visit usually need prayer and God’s light the most.” 

Spencer gave you a sideways glance, clearly holding back a grin at how thick you were pouring it on - how much intense, feigned passion you said these words with. 

“Well, I can assure you that a lack of prayer and God’s light is certainly not an issue for the children here.” Cyrus said, giving you a clever little grin. He thought that you would simply interview the children, praise him for what a good job he had done, and then leave. “You can go and see the children whenever you like. They are up at the school, as I indicated in our phone call.” 

Nancy walked toward the school, and you paused before you followed. 

Before you walked off, you looked to Spencer. In a completely silent conversation that only worked so well because the two of you had been in so many tense situations before, thinking around UnSubs and planning miles around them before they could even know it, he gave you a small nod and you instantly knew what it meant. He had established a small bit of trust with Cyrus, so he would stick back and see what else he could get out of the man. 

You nodded back, and then - completely surprising yourself, you leaned in and kissed Spencer on the cheek. You were just playing the part, you told yourself. It’s not that it felt entirely instinctive to say goodbye to him with some kind of affection, like the many hugs you had given him before. It’s not that you felt so entirely scrutinized with Cryus’ piercing eyes on you, and you needed the anchor of Spencer’s touch. 

You were just playing the part. 

Spencer tried not to get caught on being kissed on the cheek like he was some blushing virgin, and instead, focused his attention back on Cyrus instead of watching you walk away. (Even though every single one of his instincts told him that he needed to keep a more careful eye on you because you both had to leave your guns in the car.) 

He took a step closer to where Cyrus was leaning on the concrete, and easily picked a topic of conversation. 

“Solar panels.” Reid said, motioning to the large devices sitting behind Cyrus on the grass. 

“Yes.” Cyrus nodded. “We’re completely self-sufficient here. Food, electricity, water. Benjamin Franklin said ‘God helps those who help themselves’.” He explained. “You look surprised.” 

“No, uh, impressed, actually.” Reid easily lied, trying to appeal to his ego. 

“Thank you.” Cyrus said. “Most men wouldn’t admit that.” 

“Well, I suppose that I’m not like most men.” Reid shrugged in return. 

“How long have you been married?” Cyrus asked, motioning toward Reid’s ‘wedding ring’. 

Reid panicked slightly, knowing that the two of you likely should have coordinated this story during the plane ride to Colorado so that your answers to these simple questions wouldn’t be different. But he just made up an answer and hoped that nobody else would ask you the same question and find out the deception. 

“Three years.” He said. “I’ve been very blessed.” 

He used the language purposefully, knowing that the simple phrase could get him on Cyrus’ good side. That, and he hoped it would draw the attention away from any possible signs of his blatant lie. 

“Your wife is very beautiful.” Cyrus commented. 

He gave a wicked smirk as he said this. It was a simple, fairly ‘innocent’ comment, but it was immediately off-putting to Spencer. It took everything in his body not to glare daggers at Cyrus or throw out some protective comment in return. He could only imagine what was going through Cyrus’ mind as he thought about you, and he hated even imagining it. 

Reid knew that it was a basic logical good, the instinct to protect you because you were his partner on this case and he was supposed to have your back. But it was also something more. Something in every fiber of his being that screamed you were his and no man should ever be thinking of you that way except for him. 

“Has it been a godly union?” 

He was lucky when Cyrus spoke again and distracted him from his mounting rage. 

“We try to be as godly as we can be.” Spencer took the simple, diplomatic answer. 

“Your wife didn’t take your last name.” Cyrus pointed out. 

Nancy had used your name on your false credentials because Hotch had only come up with the fake marriage idea the day before. There hadn’t been time to inform her about it and have ‘Reid’ put on your ID as your ‘married’ name. So he had introduced you by your name to keep everything consistent with the reuse. 

It did make Spencer wonder if you would keep your last name if the two of you ever did get married. It made him almost dizzy, thinking about you as ‘Mrs Reid’. Thinking about your kids having his name. Or your name, if that’s what you wanted. 

But naturally, he pushed past all those thoughts and formed an excuse. 

“Typically, married women aren’t very well perceived in our line of work.” He quickly excused. “She doesn’t even get to wear her ring that often. She couldn’t change her name on paperwork at our office because a working married woman… it’s heavily frowned upon.” 

“Well, I’d have to agree.” Cyrus grunted. “A woman shouldn’t be out working. A woman should be at home raising a family.” 

“I - I suppose you’re right.” Reid agreed through gritted teeth. 

He walked away toward the school before he got too angry again. 

… 

A few hours later, everything had gone to hell. 

Some authority - the police, the military, you didn’t even know - had charged into the Ranch shooting. In response, Cyrus and his followers had come into the school toting large semi-automatics asking you and Spencer if you knew about a raid. 

You didn’t. You wish you had known about a raid. You would have warned Hotch and gotten them to call it off. You certainly would not have been there while it was happening. 

When they had pointed those guns in your face and forced you into the tunnels - it wasn’t very difficult to pretend to be Spencer’s wife then. Cowering in the bunker, confused and scared, you flung your arms around his waist almost instinctively, and he buried his nose in the top of your hair as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like a shield, promising you that everything was going to be okay. 

Whispered to you like that, coming from him - it was almost easier to believe. Even with the chaos going on around you and the fear pumping through you in response. 

Nancy had run off trying to get them to surrender and did not come back. You had a feeling that you knew what that meant. 

And now, with the kids from the school ‘evacuated’ into the church, you were being held in the cellar at gunpoint. They had forcefully separated you and Spencer, making you sit in chairs at opposite sides of the room.

Spencer was fidgeting. His eyes kept flickering from the door, to you, to the man standing beside you holding the very large gun. 

You knew that you had ugly tear tracks down your face, and oddly enough - you wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. As you were forced to sit there, just a few feet across the room away from him - you ached for it. 

There was a very large possibility that you were going to die today. And you selfishly needed the comfort of being in the arms of someone familiar - someone safe. Someone you knew would never hurt you. Someone who had made you laugh with dumb science jokes and puns for the last five years that you had worked together with him. 

When Cyrus charged back into the room with two men flanking his sides, you and Spencer stiffened up once again. 

“God will forgive me for what I’m about to do.” Cyrus announced to the room, presenting a handgun from his belt. 

Your insides quaked, and Spencer’s eyes grew wide. 

You couldn’t contain the fearful whimper that erupted from the back of your throat when he raised that gun and placed it near the middle of Spencer’s forehead. You clasped a hand tightly over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in protest, knowing that would only make things worse. 

“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” Cyrus asked firmly. 

Which ‘one’? 

So he knew that you were undercover, that you had lied about your job titles - but he thought that only one of you had done so. Where the hell was he getting his information? 

“I - I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Spencer told him quietly, looking him in the eye the entire time. 

You hoped that his stutter could be passed off as nervousness from the gun being pointed in his face, and wouldn’t be pointed to as deception. 

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus pressed. 

“We are not FBI Agents.” Spencer said, more confidently this time. “We are Child Victim Interview Experts. We were only sent here to ensure the wellbeing of the children. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Well, that last part wasn’t a lie. 

“You’re lying.” Cyrus told him, entirely confident in this. “God expells those who lie, devils in sheep’s clothing.” 

There was a tense moment, and then Cyrus cocked the gun. 

Spencer didn’t flinch. You resisted the urge to scream. 

“Proverbs 12:22 says: ‘The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who tell the truth.’” Cyrus said, actually citing scripture this time. 

He was giving Spencer one last chance to tell the truth. As if using the bible verse to say that his punishment would be lesser if he simply told the truth now. 

Spencer didn’t take the bait. 

“I’m not lying.” Spencer said firmly. “What? You think I wouldn’t know if - if my wife was an FBI Agent? This is the woman I wake up next to every single morning, the woman I go to sleep next to every single night, we work together every single day, we-” 

Cyrus interrupted Spencer’s ranting with a sharp hit to the face, pistol whipping him across the cheek. 

This caused Spencer to go flying off the chair, and you couldn’t help when you let out a wounded cry. It took everything in you not to jump out of your own chair and rush to Spencer where he had collapsed onto the ground, clutching his cheek. 

“Someone is going to tell me the truth.” Cyrus said gruffly. 

“It must have been Nancy!” You said, the idea finally popping into your head. 

You seemed to be more clever with the pressure of Spencer’s life being threatened. Cyrus stared you down, turning his attention fully toward you now. You caught Spencer’s eye for a moment and he gave you a small nod - as if to say ‘yes, keep going with that’. 

“The woman we came in with! Nancy!” You reasoned, continuing to point the finger at the woman you had to assume was dead. “We - we just met her today. Our boss introduced us to her, but we had never met before that. If she was FBI, we had no clue. We swear.” 

Cyrus turned to you then, and tightly pressed the barrel of his gun into your forehead. You could feel the imprint of it so tight in your skin that it hurt, and you could only lean away so far before threatening to knock the chair backwards. 

“It’s very convenient to pin this crime on someone who isn’t here.” He grunted at you. 

“It’s the truth.” You sniffled out quietly. 

“Hmm.” Cyrus hummed thoughtfully, and then, much to your surprise, he removed the gun barrel from your forehead. 

You barely had a moment to breathe in relief before he began skimming the gun down your neck, touching the metal whisper-gentle across your bare skin - clearly taunting you. It was something that made your whole body stiff with alarm, and caused Spencer’s eyes to go wide once again.

“Perhaps I should strip you naked to ensure that you’re not wearing a wire.” Cyrus said, teasing the gun along the buttons at the front of your cardigan. 

You held back a sob at the thought of it - at the idea that he could make you do almost anything for the fear of you being shot. Truthfully, you were more afraid of what he might do to Spencer if you didn’t comply, but it was all the same in your mind now. His life was just as valuable as yours, and you would do whatever it took to protect him.

Before Cyrus could take these threats any further, a heroic voice intervened. 

“That’s enough!” Spencer yelled. 

He gathered himself off the floor and oddly enough, none of the men moved to stop him as he came to stand beside Cyrus. Perhaps they didn’t see him as a threat. Perhaps it was because Cyrus didn’t bark any orders at them to stop him. He was entirely unflinching, keeping his focus on you and keeping his gun held between your breasts as Spencer crowded into his personal space, trying to press himself between you and the awful man. 

“We’ve told you everything that we know.” Spencer told him lowly, his voice heaving with well controlled anger. It was something that you had rarely ever heard from him. 

Cyrus kept his eyes locked on you, so Spencer continued. 

“We don’t know anything about the FBI - we have a simple job advocating for children who have been abused. That is it. We came here to investigate a most likely false claim against someone in your community and we truly didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this.” He said firmly, clearly trying to appeal to Cyrus. “So I suggest you get that gun away from my wife before you and I truly have a problem.” 

Spencer’s voice was dark, so thick with rage. More pent up rage than you had ever heard from him when he was talking to any suspect, people who had done the worst of the worst. Something about Cyrus threatening you had truly boiled his insides. 

The way he said the words ‘my wife’ - growling it out like he was a feral animal and this threat to you had activated every single one of his protective instincts. Hearing it made something inside of you yearn for him on such a deep level that you didn’t know was possible. You wanted to feel that kind of protection cast over you every single day. It made you feel invincible, having Spencer watch over you like that. 

Cyrus lowered the gun then, and Spencer grabbed your arm as you dissolved into hysterical tears. Instinctively, he lifted you up into his arms. You thought that you heard Cyrus mumble out ‘my apologies’ as he left the room - but he was barely on your radar. Your entire world became narrowed down to nothing but Spencer, your safety net as he built a wall of protection around you. 

He used his height to block you from seeing anything but him, letting you push your face into his chest as you cried. He wrapped you in his arms once again, letting you feel truly safe for a few moments as you sobbed into the fabric of his sweater. Your arms clutched desperately at his waist, needing to keep a hold on him - needing to ensure that he didn’t leave you. 

“Hey, shh. Shh. It’s okay.” He said, leaving gentle kisses on the top of your forehead and your hair, rubbing across your back with one hand, comforting you in the only way he could in those moments. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Of course, he wanted to break down too. But he had to be strong for you. 

“Spencer,” You called his name in an utterly wounded voice, pulling away from his chest to look up at him. 

When you saw his injury up close - a sharp, purple-red bruise that was blooming across his cheek, it looked so utterly painful. Your insides ached at the thought that he had taken a blow for you. You hated to imagine what more they could have done to him if they had not believed your lies. 

You instinctively reached a hand up to touch it and he caught your fingers halfway, instead, gently grasping your hand and laying it on his chest. The intimacy felt so oddly rehearsed - so worn in, so ‘normal’. It felt like you had been married to Spencer for years. Like it wasn’t a play at all. 

Your two souls had been calling out to each other for years, just waiting for the dam to break. But you couldn’t quite put it into words - not like that. 

“It’s okay.” He said quietly, knowing you were horrified by the injury. 

He was so gentle, so comforting, so calm. Everything the men pointing guns at you were not. Unlike Cyrus - Spencer Reid was a true blessing from God. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back then. 

You surged up and kissed him, fully embracing his mouth with yours in a kiss. Though it was so sudden, it was something he easily returned. The kiss so full of urgency, so needy, so passionate. Like he was trying to tell you that it was okay, that he would protect you no matter what. 

He would protect you because you belonged to him. 

In those moments, the two of you were basically alone. One of Cryus’ men was guarding the door, watching on boredly. But Cyrus was off in the church, funneling people in to prepare for his ‘loyalty’ test. It didn’t matter if he saw you kissing or not - it wouldn’t have sold the reuse of you being married any better. 

This was just for the two of you. This was comfort. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, Spencer looked stunned, almost as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. You didn’t give him time to question it. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly. 

It was twofold:

Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for giving me comfort. 

Spencer didn’t have too much time to marinate in the meaning of the kiss before Cyrus’ men came back and fetched the two of you, wanting you to observe the loyalty test. 

… 

After the mock poisoning (which Spencer figured out rather quickly, making you admire his cleverness once again), Cyrus kept you and Spencer in the church with a few of his closest, most loyal followers while all of the low level followers dispersed back to their homes. 

You and Spencer were lingering in the back quietly while Cyrus was on the other end of the room, talking to his men about how to proceed. The plans for their ‘final stand’. 

“We need to get some kind of signal to the others.” Spencer whispered quietly. “Maybe they’ll take pity on you and let you go if-” He swallowed sharply, cutting himself off abruptly. Oddly enough, he didn’t want to voice whatever was on his mind. 

“If what?” You probed. You wondered what the hell you could possibly be thinking. 

“If we tell them that you’re pregnant.” He said, whispering so lowly that you almost didn’t catch the words. 

You rolled your eyes sharply at this. 

You had gotten married and had kids all in one day. What a miracle. 

(In those moments, clouded by fear, you couldn’t see it for what it truly was - Spencer blatantly revealing his unconscious desires to have a baby with you.) 

“We could convince them to release you. As a show of good faith. A pregnancy would be good leverage in that. You know how religious people are about fetuses-” Spencer reasoned. 

“Yeah, and what if they give me a test?” You probed, punching a large hole in his logic. “We don’t know what kind of infirmary they have here. They obviously believe in modern technology. What if they want to give me an ultrasound to check on the fetus after the stress of the day? To prove that they did no harm to the precious unborn child,” 

Spencer was easily caught on this point. If they examined you and found that you weren’t pregnant, all the lies would fall apart. 

“Well… what if we tell them that you have a baby at home that you need to get back to?” Spencer reasoned, jumping to the next logical conclusion in his mind. “It’ll likely garner the same level of pity.” 

“Your imaginary sperm is powerful, isn’t it?” You whispered back sharply. Spencer rolled his eyes this time. But he didn’t redact the plan as unreasonable, so you continued on. “Okay, what do I even do when I get out there? I’m not gonna be of any use to the tactical team. We don’t know what Cyrus’ final play is yet.” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t bear to be separated from Spencer. Knowing that he was inside, potentially being beaten up more, potentially being shot and bleeding out from a wound without you knowing - it would kill you with stress. You need to be by his side. You needed to know that he was okay. 

“Has God blessed your union with any children?” Cyrus appeared behind you suddenly. 

You wondered if he had heard you say the word ‘pregnancy’ or if this was just a random topic that had come up in his mind. 

His sudden appearance behind you caused you to whip around and crowd into the comfort of Spencer’s arms again because you were frightened. Naturally, Spencer wrapped his sheltering touch around your shoulders. Your back was gently pressed into Spencer’s front, his arm shielding you protectively as it was wrapped around your chest, holding you with his hand on one of your shoulders, unconsciously stroking his thumb across the fabric of your cardigan. The position had you both facing Cyrus, watching the fan in an offensive way. 

And of course, Spencer didn’t miss a beat. 

“Yes.” Spencer answered easily. “We have two kids at home. A boy and a girl. Iris and Hugo. Iris is almost three years old and Hugo is eleven months. His first birthday is coming up in June.” 

You knew that Spencer could be very good at talking off a suspect’s ear under pressure, but when you heard him rattle off these ‘facts’ so easily, it hit you. 

This wasn’t simply statistics or physiological knowledge - this was a very elaborate backstory for your supposedly real marriage. Perhaps he had thought about all of it on the car ride up (which was odd not to share it with you, in case Cyrus asked you a similar question and your answer didn’t match up with Spencer’s). 

But if you weren’t mistaken, this wasn’t simply a backstory for your fake marriage during the undercover mission. This was a fantasy of his. Those were names he had lovingly chosen for your imaginary children - kids he had dreamed up in his head and wanted to be real. 

Your heart ached at the thought of it. You found yourself missing a set of children that weren’t even real. (And distantly, wanting to jump his bones to make it a reality.)

“Tell me, Mr. Reid, would you find it so shameful for your daughter to marry young?” Cyrus asked. 

You found it odd to hear Cyrus call Spencer ‘Mr. Reid’, but you realized that he hadn’t introduced himself as ‘Doctor’ in this setting. You held your tongue when you felt the need to correct him as you had so many other people, wanting Spencer to receive his proper title. 

Your mind almost couldn’t focus on the question that Cyrus had asked. Of course, he was trying to get Spencer to stroke his ego once again. Basically admitting that the whole reason the two of you had come here was true - he was being vastly inappropriate with a young member of the church, and getting away with it. And he saw nothing wrong with it. 

And he was trying to get an outsider to admit that he saw nothing wrong with it too. 

When there was a moment of silence - Reid obviously torn on how to answer the question, Cyrus continued. 

“Is there really something so wrong with a blooming young woman marrying a man who will protect her under God’s laws?” He probed, his voice so entirely confident. Clearly confident that he was right. 

“Well, I’m not sure if I would let my daughter get married so young.” Reid said, finally speaking up. “I just know that I would want her to marry a man that would protect her, and be the best possible fit for her. Someone who would cherish her and be good to her no matter what.” 

His answer made you swoon. You reached up and gently gripped his forearm in response, giving a light squeeze to show your approval. He leaned in and kissed the back of your head - dizzyingly, you were imagining him walking your imaginary daughter down the aisle before you had even gotten married yourself. 

Maybe it was being so close to death, being threatened in such dangerous territory that was causing your life to accelerate at light speed in your mind. If you were going to lose everything, you might as well enjoy the escapism of a fake life with a beautiful man in your mind instead of being stuck on the heart pounding terror of being held hostage, right? 

Surprisingly, his words drew a smile from Cyrus. 

“You’re a protective father, aren’t you?” Cyrus asked. 

“Of course.” Reid confirmed. 

“I can always admire that in a man.” Cyrus nodded. “A man should always pride himself on protecting his family.” 

There was another moment of pause, and you were hoping that the topic had been dropped completely. 

“Do you have a picture of your children with you?” Cyrus asked. 

You wondered if - in a different version of reality, where you and Spencer really were married, where Hugo and Iris really did exist - if you had a picture of them in your pocket, would Cyrus only be asking this so he could use the picture to taunt the two of you? What other purpose would he have for knowing what your children looked like? 

“Unfortunately, no.” You answered. “I keep my family pictures on my desk. In my office. We - we’ve just been praying to get back to them safely.” 

Cyrus seemed perturbed at you mentioning that you had an office. Something dark flickered over his features for a moment and then disappeared. 

“Well… if it is right, God will grant you that safe passage.” Cyrus said. 

Just when you truly thought the conversation was done, he said something to you that entirely grinded under your skin. 

“I find it entirely odd that a mother of two young children spends her days working a job where she takes care of other people’s children, rather than staying at home with her own youngins where she belongs.” 

He said, using that same entirely confident, righteous tone that he always did. Even though you were not really a working mother, you had a hard time not boiling with anger at the sexism ripe in his statement. 

“How much must you be missing of your sweet angels lives to instead partake in the horrors of devils you shouldn’t have to witness.” 

Of course. 

You had a hard time not rolling your eyes at this or saying something harsh that would set him off. Instead, you reached up to Spencer’s arm around your shoulder, squeezing his fingers, trying to keep your patience.

“I’ll have you know that Y/N is an amazing mother.” Spencer piped up, knowing that Cyrus respected him enough as a man that he wouldn’t beat him simply for speaking up. “Her nurturing and caring makes her infinitely better at her job.” 

Again, you knew that there was so much personal truth in Spencer’s words. He thought that you would make an amazing mother to his children - at least theoretically. He was entirely firm in that conviction. And he thought that your natural caring made you amazing at the job you did as a Profiler. He knew this from the quality of work he witnessed you doing every single day. 

You didn’t know it - but it was just one of the many things that had caused him to fall in love with you. 

Oddly enough, Cyrus’ words prodded at something deep inside of you. It made you imagine a life for yourself where you weren’t spending your days witnessing horrors from unspeakable devils - but instead, at home, looking out for Spencer’s imaginary children. 

You would have said it was the fear of the day, clouding your mind. But maybe it was the clarity of being so close to death that made you realize what - and who - you truly wanted out of life. 

… 

Hours later, after some of the hostages had been released (the ‘non-believers’ who had failed the loyalty test), Cyrus had requested that some food be sent up. Spencer gave you a sharp look when he saw the message written on one of the takeout lids. 

The team would be storming in to end the hold-out at 3am. You had to somehow ensure the safety of the hostages by then. 

Obviously, the fake pregnancy idea was still warping through Spencer’s mind, but you had come up with some much better. 

“Cyrus,” You called out his name gently, getting his attention. “You said that you have a nursery here?” 

It had come up, during his long winded bragging about how perfect the Ranch was. Something about how mothers didn’t have to raise their children alone. The children were raised as more of a ‘group effort’ and women took ‘shifts’ in the nursery, allowing the women to rest or get chores done in the interim. 

“Yes, we do.” He nodded. 

Spencer stared at you with his jaw set, wondering what you were doing but not daring to speak. 

“I - I’ve been missing my children dearly. I was wondering if I could go to your nursery and see if they need any help? It would do my soul good to be around young ones right now. After all the commotion of these days.” You spoke meekly, trying to play the part of the shaken up, dainty woman well. 

Which was too difficult, seeing as you were playing up the fear you had already experienced. 

He grinned. It was a rather menacing smile, and you tried your hardest not to show any further fear, or disgust. 

“That sounds like a splendid idea.” He nodded. “Christopher, why don’t you escort her down to the nursery and then come back? We need you here for our final preparations.” 

You were finally falling to those gender roles that he had been pushing on you since you had arrived. He didn’t suspect a thing. He simply thought that you were a God fearing woman falling to your natural womanly instincts, needing to care for children lest your womb shrivel up and you die. 

Spencer rose from his seat and Cyrus stopped him. 

“Just your wife.” He said, putting a hand in front of Spencer’s chest to stop him. “There are still some things you and I need to discuss. Man to man.” 

You went over to Spencer and didn’t hesitate to plant a kiss firmly on his mouth, which he returned with vigor. This one lasted only a moment - it was something precious for the two of you. You didn’t need to put on some pointed show for the men in the room. 

“It’s okay.” You told Spencer quietly, brushing your fingers gently over his uninjured cheek. 

You could tell that he was dying to ask you what your plan was. But he kept the words trapped in his throat, unable to speak in front of the many temperamental villains lurking about. 

“Come on.” Christopher grunted. 

Spencer gave you a longing look as you left. He didn’t want to think it, but as he watched your figure retreat out the door, he feared that it would be the last time he ever saw you. 

… 

Your plan worked flawlessly. 

Getting to the nursery meant that you had unsupervised access to the women and children, especially away from Cyrus’ prying ears. Because you were a ‘delicate’ woman, nobody suspected you of having ulterior motives. You easily found a crack in Kathy, Jessica’s mother. You spotted her as the one who had made the original 9-1-1 call, wanting to get her daughter away from Cyrus. You convinced her to help you get everyone out, and you felt intense relief when you were met with a familiar face in the cellar as everyone escaped through the tunnels. 

“Where’s Reid?” Morgan easily asked you, glancing behind your shoulder as if waiting for him to appear. 

“He’s still up at the church.” You told him. “I had to separate off to help get the women and children out-” 

“Go on, we have to get you out!” Morgan urged, trying to gently usher you along. 

“We have to go get Reid!” You argued, trying to turn around. 

“Go, go on, I’ll go get Reid!” He told you. 

You were about to argue back, but you were cut off by a scuffle behind you. 

Jessica was yelling about Cyrus - how her mother had betrayed her, tricked her. 

Morgan pushed Kathy toward you and ran off screaming for Jessica. You took Kathy’s arm, gently convincing her that everything was going to be okay as you guided her the rest of the way out. You had to focus on this, convincing yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to tell yourself that Derek was going to get Spencer out - that they were both going to be okay. 

When you got outside, you were hyper focused on marching away, taking a path away from the church as directed by the officers in charge. You froze in your tracks when you heard it - an earth shattering boom. The ground beneath your feet shook. You felt a puff of hot air swell to touch your back. 

You let go of Kathy’s arm and whipped around, and you couldn’t even pay attention to where she went. You almost thought you heard her weeping, but your mind couldn’t process it as your eyes were glossed in bright orange flame. 

It was the church. 

“Spencer?” You gasped quietly. “Spencer!” 

You couldn’t help it, but you began to run toward it. Your feet carried you faster than you could think, and before you got more than a few feet across the ground, you felt a sharp grip on your upper arm. 

“L/N!” 

Hotch’s voice, sounding far too distant for the position he held right behind you, viciously gripping onto you as you fought against him, trying to get toward the fire - trying to get to Spencer. 

“Hey! Hey! Stop it!” Hotch tried to order you around, tried to get you to stand down. 

He got a hand around your waist, and you continued to kick like a wild horse, fighting against his grip as hot tears poured down your face. 

“He’s in there!” You sobbed. “Spencer is still in there.” 

“Calm. Down.” Hotch ordered sharply. 

You collapsed back into him sobbing, all of the fight leaving your muscles at once. You couldn’t fake the reality in front of you. 

“You running in there and getting hurt isn’t going to change anything.” Hotch told you quietly, a somehow distant murmur into your ear. 

Through the blur of your tears and the sharp orange glow, you saw the shape of two bodies. You heard coughing as someone emerged from the blast, hobbling down the stairs at the front of the church. You forced your eyes open wider, trying to see who it was, and then: 

“Y/N!” Spencer called out your name gruffly through the smoke he had inhaled, and you easily shucked off Hotch’s grip to race up the stairs to get to him. 

He was leaning on Morgan for support and you were worried that he was hurt. But the moment you were close enough, he tore himself away from Morgan and the two of you met in the middle. In a pattern that was easily developing, you fell into the safety of his arms, holding him tight enough to bruise him - never wanting to let go. 

“You’re so stupid, you’re so stupid! Why would you do that to me?” 

You sobbed out, gripping both sides of his face, staring into his eyes, needing the recognition that he was right there, right in front of you. 

He stared back with glassiness - intense fear, adrenaline, and something small that told you he was thankful for you, and needed you now more than ever. 

Of course, your words were simple anger at the situation, not at Spencer himself. The terror of thinking that he was dead still pumping through your veins, causing you to shake. 

“I know.” He said quietly. “I love you.” 

His voice wrapped around the words so tenderly - it was the most sincere declaration you had ever heard from him. As if to say ‘I know how much that scared you. I know what this ordeal has done to us and I only meant it more because of how scared I am’. 

“I love you too.” The words flew from your lips so naturally it hurt. You took a moment to recover, entirely shocked by your own lips. And then, you only found the need to say it growing more inside of you. “Spencer, I love you.” 

You pulled him toward you with the grip you had on his face, and he easily met you in one of the most earth shattering kisses you had ever experienced. 

It was no longer a show, it was no longer about displaying the fake marriage for someone else’s benefit - if it had ever been about that in the first place. It was about the two of you. It was about feeling that comfort, that safety. It was about the fact that your two souls were drawn together since the day you had met. The fact that you had always felt safe with each other. You had always been the other person’s shelter from the storm. 

And you poured every ounce of those feelings into that kiss. 

You combed your fingers through Spencer’s hair, taking a harsh grip on the back of it, holding him there so he couldn’t pull away from your lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your sweater. Both of you entirely refused to come up for oxygen, not even caring who saw the epically passionate, public display of your love for each other. 

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan and Hotch exchanged a look with raised brows as it happened. You and Spencer didn’t care. You were barely perceiving the world around you as the two of you kissed. 

“You know if you’re not careful, people are actually gonna think you two are married.” Morgan said, being his usual sarcastic self. 

Rather than pulling away from Spencer’s lips to sass him back - you simply flipped Derek off over Spencer’s shoulder. 

On the ride home, JJ handed Derek five dollars. He had the over/under that the two of you would get together before the end of the year. JJ said that it wouldn’t happen for another five years, at least. Derek handed the fiver to Emily when she reminded him that the ‘fake marriage’ bit had actually been her idea. 

When Emily and JJ relayed the story to Penelope, she squealed so loudly into the phone that JJ dropped it. 

Hotch pulled you aside later and warned you that the fake rings were just cheap costume jewelry that Garcia had gotten and they would tarnish soon if you kept wearing them. He also recommended that you and Spencer put in the paperwork with HR if you were ‘serious’ about the relationship. You knew that it was him wishing the two of you his best. 

A few days later when you came into work and found the HR request for an update of relationship status sitting on your desk, already signed by Spencer, you couldn’t help but to smile.

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, so there will not be a continuation or a sequel to it. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that I have written, rather than asking me to write 'more'. If you want to see more things that I have written about Spencer, feel free to check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist.

[anaconamor]

i have a fluff fic idea, reader has just given birth and that same night at the hospital, when everyone has already left and everything is silent, just the two of them they talk about how their new life is gonna be and maybe jude telling her how much he loves her and how proud he is of her and grateful for giving him a family

only the start - jb blurb.

i hope this wasn’t too bad, i quickly wrote this bc i absolutely love dad! jude and we haven’t seen much of it on the tag :(( 🤍

“i still can’t believe this is real,” jude said tiredly, not being able to look away from his babygirl on his arms, the skin to skin method. he couldn’t believe how tiny she was and just how beautiful she looked, his babygirl. adjusting her tinny bow beanie, the blanket to make sure she was warm, kissing her tiny fingers that wrapped around his pinky. he was in pure awe.

he heard you giggle, looking up to pull the rocking chair in the room close to your bed where you laid slightly on your side, still sore after the labor aftermath. you were just overall thankful you had a smooth labor, it was sure as hell painful but it was all worth it for little aurora in jude’s embrace. he was over the moon and overwhelmed with emotions. you as well.

jude at one point had gotten worried due to your body having tiny shakes but it was confirmed by the nurses it was adrenaline and your hormones trying to regulate themselves again. he did what he knew was best and held you close, ushering tiny words of comfort to let you know he was here and that it was all over.

“how are you feeling now?” his gaze softened, holding your left hand and stroked your knuckles.

“i’m doing okay… just tired and exhausted,” you smiled, reassuring him since he had a tendency to panic at anything. but hey, that was your jude.

“when your mom was talking to me i was so sleepy from the medicine, and hungry! but now i feel just at peace with you and aurora,” you admitted, covering your face embarrassed while hearing jude sniffle out a quiet chuckle, afraid of waking her up. “she’s so tiny,” you pointed out, looking at how her small button nose and eyes filled with long lashes already.

you had always wished and wanted for your daughter to have a princess name, it came with the obsession of disney movies and she would be your little princess. the name itself was beautiful and unique. you and jude were quick to decide and agree knowing it was perfect for her. she was perfect. ten tiny toes, and ten tiny fingers. a healthy baby.

“isn’t crazy how you just brought in a new life into this world?” jude retorted, still struggling how to wrap the last few months. “you carried her in your belly for 9 months! you lived your life but was also building the start of hers.”

“what matters is that she was born safe and sound,” you replied. “i couldn’t have asked for anything more than that. although she hurt so bad,” you winced thinking of the long labor. the first few hours of pure anger and not wanting to talk to jude, then another couple of hours were you just laid and practiced breathing methods, to finally letting jude hold you and guide you through it.

“once we get home, it’s the start of a new chapter,” you recalled, seeing jude nod and press and tiny kiss on her cheek, baby aurora smiling making you gasp and jude almost shed a tear. he was so damn emotional, more than you. he felt all of the pregnancy symptoms when it should’ve been you! but he was there through it all. late night cravings, pains, appointments, the shopping.

“i can’t wait though! her nursery is all set, and we’re prepared for everything remember? we’re not alone we have our family and friends also here to guide us which is more than okay. i know it’s scary believe me, but it will all fall into place,” jude stood up, gently shushing and placing her into your arms, guiding you so you can rest on his chest. “the “what if” will be along the road all that matters is taking care and giving aurora endless love.”

“how am i so lucky to have you?” you praise, looking back and up where jude shook his head.

“i’m lucky to have you. for everything. i mean you carried our babygirl while also working and being there for me. i can’t express just how much i am grateful to have met you. you mean the world to me y/n, and i can’t think of anything better than you. because you are my world…” jude whispered, a small tear escaping his eye as you pouted and brushed it away. “i’ll never stop saying it because i want you to know how thankful i am for you and what you do for us.”

“i love you, jude…”

“and to think you didn’t want to even bother with me at the start,” jude joked seeing the shyness creep into your eyes at the memory.

“listen. to be fair i had a point. i thought you were cocky and stuck up and only cared for football. AND, you if you remember closely you thought i was a “miss know-it-all” after we had met,” you defended your case, jude’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “then you begged and begged and begged for me. i still remember when you got onto your knees-”

“okay that’s enough now!” jude cut you off, resting his head with your as he looked down at baby aurora still resting. “i hope she’s like this all the time,” jude said making you roll your eyes, jude still oblivious and not knowing after a week it would be different. “the nurses were in awe of her,” he continued.

“shut up. they were in love with you,” you snickered.

“yeah they were… but they didn’t know how badass my wife is.”

“that’s also true!”

“and just how much i adore and love her…”

“mhm and what else?” you smiled, feeling jude pepper kisses along your cheek and jaw.

“and that i’m willing to move heaven and earth to be with you.”

“okay now you’re pushing it,” you recall but jude cuts you off with a kiss, making your heart race and falling more in love with him. thankful for his undying love and loyalty towards you. “i’ll be here for you and aurora no matter what,” jude promised, seeing your bite your bottom lip and close your eyes. “and no matter what the future holds, i want more babies with you,” he joked.

“get out or i’ll call your mom.”

“no wait i’m sorry!”

[thatsdemko]

feeling better - c.leclerc

masterlist

requested: y(ish)- “Hi! Sorry, can I make a shameless suggestion 🙈🤭 that some more husband Charles content like drought would be fun to say the least, sexy and cute as heck!”

p.s. - to the anon, I’m keeping your request around in my inbox in the event that this is 1. not what you wanted and 2. because I have other husband!charles fics in my drafts similar to drought that I think you might love xx

pairing: husband!charles leclerc x wife!reader

warnings: mentions of periods + oral (m receiving) + not intended for minors

a/n: inspired by @thisismeracing’s beautiful mick fic that I just can’t get out of my head! I’m not entirely proud of this smut! I haven’t wrote anything filthy in so long so I apologize I’m not into my groove, but I just love husband!charles and if anyone has any req’s for husband!charles lmk ;)

this is for all the period havers going thru a tough time rn (believe been there done that last week) xx

“so I’ve been thinking—“

“well that’s never good.”

“can I finish?” well he’s rather sassy today, you think to yourself.

shutting your phone off, you give him your undivided attention, “alright talk.”

Charles rolls his eyes thinking the same thing, those damn hormones of yours had a way of making your words rough on the edge and bitter at the tongue. but he finds it hot, he likes when you get a little grouchy and filled with an edge. it’s rare.

“since you’re not feeling well—“

“I never said I was—“

“ah that’s where you’re wrong.” a smirk tugs at his lips that he tries to contain as he takes the empty seat next to you on the couch, “it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you’re on your period, and talking to my mother about it was where you failed.”

“well it shouldn’t take my husband that long to figure it out.” you bite back. being married for three years and having dated prior, you’d imagine by now he’d be an expert of knowing when that time of the month came around.

“you want to try again with a different tone?”

“you want to try me, leclerc?”

you stare each other down neither one of you backs down until he rolls his eyes and his shoulders soften, “can I just offer my help? or will you bite my head off?”

“depends,” you tilt your head, “what’s the offer?”

“sex. unless you’re too busy being an asshole then my dick is off the table.”

you let out a laugh that you can’t contain and throw your arms around his neck allowing his hand to wrap up under your shirt. his fingers move up and down your back, you notice his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets when he discovers you’re not wearing a bra.

“no bra?” he says, but it comes out rather like a question. you watch the wheels turn in his head like it’s his lucky day.

“my boobs are sore.”

“let me take care of that.” he turns in his seat pressing a hard passionate kiss against your lips. you can feel the electricity of the kiss run down your spine and warm your insides up. your cold heart softens under him.

“I’m sorry I was mean—“

“shut up, I love it.” his breath is rigid in between the heat of your bodies against each other and from the sloppy kisses, “I like dirty.”

“it’s going to be a bitch to clean—“

“I’m not talking about that dirty.” he cuts you off. his hands yank your shirt over your head revealing your perky breasts. he stands up from the couch, carefully laying you down against the black leather cushions, “I’m talking about your mouth.”

his hand barely cups one of your breasts. it sends an ache through your body and a shiver down your spine as you try to relax. the look on your face reminds him to go easy, and he does. his mouth wraps around the nipple, tongue ever so ghostly swipes across your flesh.

you gasp at the sensitivity, begging for more of his tongue, “Charles,”

“too much?”

“so good.” you moan into his skin, mouth hovering over the crook of his neck he forgets how to breathe for a second.

“are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask. carefully removing your shorts, you reveal the most unattractive pair of underwear you could be wearing. Charles doesn’t seem to notice or even care, he just nods along pulling out a condom that’s surely useless during this time.

“do you not want to have sex? I thought it would help? does it not? is the internet a liar—“

you rip the condom off his cock and just wrap your mouth around the tip getting him to shut up. his breath hitches, cock drips in precum, your warm tongue swirls, twirls, and slurps up every bit of him.

his ragged breathing fills your ears. your teeth gently press into the skin of his cock earning him to release right into your mouth. he watches you swallow with a smile on your face before leaning yourself back against the couch cushions.

“the internet was right, you girls are incredibly horny.”

“just horny for you,” you whisper wrapping your legs around his hips feeling his cock go straight for your clit.

there was no messing around. he had scoured the internet for hours and knew the best pleasure comes from the clit. and pleasure was all you ever asked for on your period, it’s too bad Mother Nature could never deliver what Charles was giving.

“horny for you, and your big dick.”

he slams into your clit again, a raspy moan exits your lips. you feel yourself coming undone underneath him. your legs shake, head becomes fuzzy until you release against him.

“merde,” he mutters under his breath, “I’ll be right back.” he gets up from the couch, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, he leaves and soon comes back with a towel and a smile.

“you want a hot bath?”

“it’ll only be hot if you’re in there with me.” you reply feeling the rough material against your inner thighs not even daring to look at the mess.

“I’m always down for round two. especially in the tub.”

“well then don’t leave me hanging, let’s go.”

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz @jaehyunluvcult @iloveyou3000morgan @lunnnix

want to be apart of my tag list? let me know here!

[koqabear]

Addicted To You

♡ continuation of Take It! but can be read as a stand-alone.

“It’s been three weeks since you’ve seen either Beomgyu or Taehyun, away for a business trip like always— after three weeks without seeing them, they’re eager to show you how much they missed you.”

beomgyu x fem!reader x taehyun

Genre: fluff, smut, porn with no plot. at all. 

Word count 4.7K

warnings: barely edited, poly relationship but no mxm…they’re chaebols for those who don’t know, gyu is kinda bratty, it’s literally just smut

smut warnings: dom!tae, dom!beomgyu, sub!mc, threesome, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, pet names, (baby, pretty, sweetheart, etc.) dry humping, marking, praise, degrading, manhandling, breast play, mocking, exhibitionism, oral (f & m rec.) slight masturbation, handjob, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, (m. rec) slight dumbification, mentions of safe word, dacryphilia, creampies, aftercare (lmk if i should add anything!)

Notes: didn’t rlly think i’d commit to this, but take it holds a silly little place in my heart bc it was the first fic to help me gain traction on my dying blog 😭 (no, there were no other reasons as to why i wrote this tf) 

Study sessions with Taehyun usually go well— he’s a great teacher, and is able to guide you through even the hardest concepts with ease; usually, you end study sessions with no energy at all, more than ready to sink into your bed with your arms wrapped tightly around him. 

Usually, you don’t find yourself where you are now— on top of him, your fingers threaded into his hair as you tug him closer to you. 

“Thought you were tired?” He teases, fully enjoying the way you grind against him, needy and reckless as you simply whine at his comment, “What happened to just cuddling, sweetheart?”

“Does it look like I’m in the mood to just cuddle?” you mock, pulling away from his addicting lips with a frown— he simply laughs, playing along as he sends you an innocent look— though there’s nothing innocent about the way his hands are splayed across the small of your back, encouraging the soft rock of your hips by keeping you pressed firmly onto him, “I haven’t seen you in weeks, missed you so much.”

Taehyun’s smile grows wicked; there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans forward to place sultry kisses on your neck, plump lips sucking and biting teasingly as he litters marks on any skin that’s left accessible to him. 

“You missed me, pretty? How much?” he teases, mumbling the words against your neck as his hands slip under your shirt, fingers wandering as he feels the way you practically melt at his touch. The small whimper you let out isn’t lost on him as he bucks his hips up into you, prompting you to answer him with a soft bite to the sensitive spot on your neck. 

“So much. So so much,” you ramble, unable to stop your desperate movements as you grind into him, able to feel the way his cock is already hard and pressed perfectly against you, biting your lip in a pathetic attempt to suppress your sounds, “Couldn’t even call you while you away, you were so busy.”

“Wow, I can’t believe this,” you immediately freeze at the sound of the voice— your eyes are wide open as you turn around in Taehyun’s grasp, mouth agape as you realize that you didn’t even notice the bedroom door opening, much less hear Beomgyu come in as he sits comfortably on the chair in the corner, arms crossed and expression unamused as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Is he the only one to get a warm welcome?” he pouts, shining eyes almost fooling you into thinking he’s seconds away from tearing up, “You didn’t miss me?”

“Gyu,” you gape, untangling yourself from Taehyun as you attempt to go to him immediately— only to be pulled back by Taehyun, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he presses you flush against him, chin slotting itself on your shoulder as he laughs at the whine you let out, “I thought you weren’t supposed to be here until next week.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he admits, leaning back in the chair as he lets out a soft tsk, taking in the way Taehyun continues his assault on your neck— you’re weak to his touches as you let out soft gasps, squirming in his grip and inevitably grinding harder against him as a result, “Though it seems you’re busy— I’ll get going then.”

“Beomgyu, ah, wait,” your voice is whiny and pathetic as you call out to him, stopping him in his tracks as he glances back at you— he takes in the way you reach out toward him helplessly, eyes darkening at the way Taehyun continues to hold you close, not planning to let you go soon as his eyes flicker up; they meet Beomgyu’s, and he’s unable to hold back his sly smile as his hands wander under your shirt, pushing it up and exposing your chest before he’s expertly playing with your breasts— the way you cry out from his touches and place your hands on his forearms is amusing, and Beomgyu is quick to catch onto Taehyun’s intentions as he simply huffs out a soft laugh. 

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks, tilting his head as he goes to stand before you— just out of reach, your attempts to grab onto him and tug him closer futile as you simply look up at him with teary eyes, whimpering softly at the way Taehyun begins to rut up into you, “Isn’t Tyunnie enough for you?” 

The nickname has Taehyun rolling his eyes— Beomgyu’s wicked smile of amusement only makes Taehyun more irritated, even more so when you begin protesting that you want him, too.

“It’s not that,” you say, struggling to utter a coherent sentence from the way Taehyun continues to stimulate you, your brain turned to mush from his touch alone, “Just missed you… want you, missed both of you s’much…”

Both men are laughing at your state— your fucked out expression and bruised lips from Taehyun’s harsh bites is enough to have them hooked, and Beomgyu has to take a deep breath in order to keep his hands off you. 

“Our sweet girl,” Taehyun hums, kissing your cheek fondly, a stark contrast to the way he continues to stimulate you, expert fingers tweaking at your nipples while he continues to roll his hips up into you; you don’t seem to notice the moment one of his hands begins to slide down coyly, slipping under your shorts and rubbing your clit teasingly over your panties— you both hiss at the feeling, and Taehyun bites his lips at the feeling of you completely soaking your underwear, “Why don’t you show Gyu how much you missed us, hmm?”

You’re nodding immediately; your hips are canting at his touch, and you can’t seem to get your eyes off Beomgyu, who simply takes you in with hungry eyes, stepping closer in order to cup your cheek, leaning down until his hips are hovering over yours.

“Still such a greedy thing, aren’t you?” he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper as you simply cry at his words. It’s all too much for you— Taehyun’s body against yours, his soft huffs against your skin, his wandering lips and hands that don’t detach themselves from your body for even a moment— and Beomgyu’s soft hand that caresses your face fondly, staring at you with such pity in his eyes you can’t help but feel small under his gaze, “Can’t even help yourself from touching us the moment we come back to you.”

You don’t bother to refute his claims— because it’s all true, and you don’t bother to feel an ounce of shame from it, not when the two men before you can’t seem to get away from you for a second, either. 

“Are you gonna cum?” Beomgyu asks, taking in the way your movements grow frantic, your mouth slightly agape and letting out streams of moans that only worsen from his question, “So close already? Come on baby, show me how much you missed us.”

Beomgyu’s lips are soft and hungry the moment they crash against yours— he’s held back long enough, unable to control his need to feel you panting and moaning against his lips the second you crash down from your high— your frantic hands grip Beomgyu’s perfectly pressed dress shirt tightly, though he couldn’t care less about it, not when you’re pulling him toward you desperately and kissing him as though you haven’t seen him in years. 

“Shit…” Taehyun groans, fingers drifting down to your clothed slit, face buried into your neck as he laughs breathily— you jolt against him as you feel his middle and ring finger run along your cunt teasingly, feeling your panties stick to you and pressing against your entrance to feel how wet you are— you’re whining softly in embarrassment, though you can’t control the shocks of pleasure that still jolt through you, pulling away from Beomgyu’s lips to burrow into his chest from the sensitivity. 

“She’s so wet,” Taehyun smiles, raising his head to meet Beomgyu’s— the two men feel weak to the way you grow flustered at their words, still shy as ever as you mumble incoherently into Beomgyu’s chest— Taehyun’s hold on you grows slack, but you don’t bother to stand up, still able to feel the way his hard cock throbs against you, weak to the feeling of him under you. 

“Poor thing,” Beomgyu coos, rubbing your back in a way that’s more patronizing than soothing, “Guess we left you alone for too long, hmm? Can’t last this long without us, is that it?” 

Your desperation is endearing to Beomgyu— though it’s something he’ll never say out loud, choosing instead to tease and poke fun at you as he takes in your weak protests and flustered reactions with a deep satisfaction. 

With the two here, you don’t need to move a muscle— not when they can do it for you, allowing them to put you in any position they want as you find yourself laying on the bed, thighs rubbing impatiently as you watch them with wide expectant eyes, waiting for their next move as they hover over you. 

“Won’t you ask how our trip was?” Beomgyu asks, his sweet smile doing nothing to deter your mind from the fact that Taehyun is sinking to his stomach, situating himself comfortably between your legs as he begins to pry your bottoms off— his eyes flicker down to your line of sight, and he’s able to catch the way your panties are soaked through with your arousal, your pretty cunt still glistening from your last orgasm.

“Baby?” He asks again, taking a hold of your chin and forcing you to look back up at him. He’s pouting, petulant as always when he realizes your attention isn’t solely on him, “Eyes on me, baby. Answer my question, won’t you?”

“H…How was your trip…?” you’re trailing off indignantly the moment you feel Taehyun’s mouth on you; it’s warm and messy as his tongue is instantly licking up the remnants of your arousal, your legs twitching at the feeling before he’s throwing them over his shoulders— his grip is bruising on your thighs as he keeps you in place, sucking and licking and moaning against your cunt like a crazed man.

“It was so boring,” Beomgyu says, seemingly unfazed by the way Taehyun is pressed against your cunt, the intensity of it all making your brows furrow and your eyes glaze with pleasure; you’re gripping at the sheets as your mouth falls open, able to feel the way his nose presses against your clit as his tongue enters you smoothly, humming out in satisfaction as the vibrations only make you yelp with pleasure— though, after a moment, you’re able to take notice of the way Beomgyu’s hand has begun to palm at his cock, eyes drinking in even your most miniscule changes of expression as he smiles. 

“Couldn’t stand being away from you for so long,” he continues, glancing back to where Taehyun hums in agreement; he’s raising his head from where it’s buried between your legs for a second, his face shining with your arousal as he sends you a charming smile— you simply whine at the way you feel his fingers teasing your entrance, circling and prodding at it before they’re sinking into you; he’s curling and pumping them immediately, eager to pull out any reactions from you as he aims for all your sensitive spots with ease. 

“Both of us,” Beomgyu adds, watching as Taehyun sends you one last coy look before his eyes fall back on your pussy— your face feels hot as you watch his lips attach themselves to your clit, looking back up at you with innocent eyes as he continues to fuck with you with his fingers, adding a third before you can even process it. 

Beomgyu is as needy as ever as he scolds you to look back up at him— your eyes widen slightly as you take in the way he’s taken his cock out, stroking it slowly and furrowing his brows the moment you begin watching him; you’re reaching up to wrap a hand around him without a second thought, and he’s cursing lowly under his breath at the feeling of your warm hand, pumping him slowly and taking in the way his tip leaks profusely. 

“Thought of you the whole time…” he mumbles, wincing slightly at the way you shift toward him in order to wrap your mouth around him; your tongue darts out to lick at his tip teasingly, doe eyes only enticing him further as he cups your face with a fond look, “I thought of calling you— I had so many nights where I couldn’t sleep, just thought of you…”

Beomgyu can’t begin to count how many times he laid on the bed of his hotel room, eyes screwed shut as he fucked himself to the memory of you— more often than not, he thought of calling your during those times— he thought of sending you a video, a picture, anything that could show you just how much he needed you; instead, he decided to remain patient, to let his energy pent up until he finally saw you again. 

Now that you lay before him, your movements on his cock faltering from the feeling of Taehyun’s tongue against your pussy, fingers hitting all the spots that make your stomach twist up in knots, he’s not sure how he’ll contain himself— three weeks without you was simply a death sentence to him. 

“You should’ve called,” you whine out, your voice weak and shaky as your thighs tighten around Taehyun’s head; he remains unfazed by the action, his soft hair ticklish against your skin as he merely presses himself against you more— the bed begins to rock from how much you squirm from his ministrations, though the way he’s begun to rut into the mattress is also to blame.

“I would’ve helped you, I… ah…!” you’re unable to finish your sentence. Beomgyu’s hand has begun to guide your own on his cock, though you don’t seem to realize it from the way your eyes are screwed shut, your helpless noises growing louder and spurring Taehyun to pleasure you more— you can already begin to imagine the marks his fingers will leave on your thighs from how hard he’s got you, keeping you firmly against him and preventing you from escaping as he leads you to your second orgasm of the night— one of many you can tell, at least from the way the two watch you with dark, hungry eyes. 

You’re a whimpering and weak mess as Taehyun lets you ride out your orgasm; he’s licking up your cum eagerly, enjoying the way you twitch and cry from the overstimulation of it all, your voice already slightly hoarse as you meekly plead Taehyun to stop, please please please, too much…

He only stops when he feels a sharp tug at his hair— though, unlike you, who tries to tug at his roots in a controlled manner to not hurt him, this action is clearly meant to hurt, and he’s already sending Beomgyu a lethal glare as the said man simply smiles back, keeping him away from you as Taehyun winces at the feeling. 

You’re unaware of it all— you’re still catching your breath, your shirt hiked up and exposing your chest, taking deep breaths as your eyes remain shut— you’re especially unaware of the way they seem to be communicating silently, Beomgyu’s grip loosening from Taehyun’s hair as he simply sends him a look, mouthing words that have Taehyun letting out a soft oh. Before you can question it, you’re being moved again. 

“Baby, do you remember why we went on this trip?” Beomgyu asks you, moving you back until you’re almost against the headboard; you’re sitting up, and Beomgyu is right beside you as he smiles, your brain fuzzy as he waits for your answer with bright eyes— his smile widens slightly the moment you begin to mumble incoherently about renewing a partnership with a company— laughing softly, he kisses you, short and sweet as he nods.

“And it went well,” he says, his heart swelling as he takes in the way you slur out a soft congratulations, “So I— Tyunnie and I… were thinking we should celebrate.” 

“Celebrate?” you ask, peering up at him through dazed eyes; his hands have begun to wander, relishing in being able to feel your skin again as he nods.

“Do you trust us, baby?” Taehyun has appeared at your other side; they cage you in, though it doesn’t feel pressuring or dangerous as they wait for your answer with loving eyes. 

“Yes.”

Your answer is immediate— and you mean it, taking in the way the two only give you mischievous smiles in return; before you can process what’s going on, they’re asking you to change positions— Beomgyu currently lays back against the headboard as you hover over him, his clothes discarded as his fingers play with the hem of your tee— rather, their tee, unsure of who’s it might be, but knowing that it’s not your own simply from the way it looks on your figure.

“Safe word?” Beomgyu asks softly, beginning to tug your shirt up before you’re obeying and taking it off; tossing it to the side, you mumble the safe word you all agreed upon, and he’s sending you an endearing smile before he’s tugging your hips down; he hisses softly at the feeling of your warm cunt fluttering around his tip, already able to feel your seeping arousal before you finally sink onto him.

“Fuck, oh shit,” he sighs, feeling the way you stretch around him, much tighter than he remembers as you simply whine at the feeling, “God, did you really miss us this much, pretty girl?”

The way you nod without hesitation has Beomgyu laughing softly; he’s reaching to take your hands, tugging at you until you’re hovering over him, your hands on either side of his head as he pouts softly at you.

“Who’d you miss more,” he begins, his antics nothing new to you as you fight the urge to roll your eyes, “Me or Tyunnie?”

There’s a right answer here, he mutters, groaning softly as he finally bottoms out inside you, feeling your hips flush against his as he bucks his hips up— whether he’s trying to get you to moan out his name or he simply can’t control himself like he tells you, you’re unsure. 

“Missed both of you,” you whine, and you fall onto him pathetically the moment he bucks his hips up into you roughly, your body jolting up from the motion.

“Really?” he asks, patting your head softly as you nod against him, “Then, do you want Tyunnie to fuck you too?” 

Mindlessly, you nod— then you freeze, feeling as though there’s more to what Beomgyu is asking as you sit back up, sending him a confused look that only makes him smile with endearment. 

“What?” he says, and it’s only once you’ve sat up that you come in contact with Taehyun’s bare chest, twisting your head to look back at him— but you’re unable to, only being able to feel his firm chest press against your back, warm hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly as he places feathery kisses along your shoulder, “Since you can never pick between us, why not have both?”

His comment is both condescending and lighthearted— he doesn’t mind sharing, but he knows that mentioning it is always enough to fluster you— and, like clockwork, you tense up, unsure of what to say as Taehyun begins to leave open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, going up, up up until he’s finally reached you ear, placing a kiss behind it before he’s whispering a soft don’t you wanna feel good, pretty? the words barely whispered as you make eye contact with Beomgyu, who was already unable to keep his eyes off you. 

The moment you catch on, Beomgyu lets out a soft moan— he can feel you clench around him, your warm walls fluttering around him and causing him to throw his head back, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure as you simply whine at the sight, feeling the way his cock ruts into you from response. 

“What do you say then, pretty?” Taehyun asks, his scent overtaking your senses from how close he is to you, something you didn’t think you missed as much as you did as you find yourself leaning back against him, your head tilting back to rest against his shoulder as you bite your lip, taking a moment to respond as Taehyun begins littering kisses along your jaw. 

“Yes, please, I want you— want you both, need you both to fuck me,” your words practically have the two malfunctioning— You can feel Taehyun smile against your jaw as Beomgyu’s hips jump up once more, and you allow Taehyun to place one last chaste kiss on your lips before he’s guiding you to lean back down.

You’ve never done this before— you’ve never thought of doing this, but as Beomgyu begins to fuck into you slowly, allowing you to loosen up around him for Taehyun, you realize that this business trip must’ve affected them much more than they let on. 

You tense slightly the moment you feel Taehyun’s tip prod at your full entrance; Beomgyu catches onto it instantly, muttering a soft still okay? against the crown of your head, only giving Taehyun a nod of confirmation the moment you tell him yes. 

“Relax for us, okay?” Taehyun coos, rubbing your skin soothingly and only continuing once he sees the tension leave your body— carefully, he begins to enter you. 

You already felt full enough with either of them inside you— but now, as you felt Taehyun finally slip inside, the three of you letting out pleasured sounds from it, you feel absolutely stuffed. 

“ffffu…. god… why didn’t we try this sooner,” you hear Beomgyu groan, jaw clenched as he focuses on not coming inside you then and there— the way you whine and whimper into his ear is enough to have him shutting his eyes, letting out another groan as he feels Taehyun bottom out, the feeling of their cocks rubbing against each other filthy and new, your fingers gripping onto Beomgyu’s shoulder desperately as you will yourself to hover over him. 

Beomgyu looks entirely fucked out; his expression probably mirrors yours, his face flushed and his eyes blown out with lust as he sends you a coy smile; behind you, you can feel Taehyun lean down to press against you, a hand securing itself on your waist while the other supports his weight— his head is buried in the crook of your neck, trying to hide the weak whines he lets out once he finally begins to pull out. 

The moment he thrusts back in, you can already feel tears prick at your eyes— you’re loud and unabashed in your sounds as they finally begin to fuck you, experimenting a bit before they finally find a good rhythm. 

When Beomgyu pulls out, Taehyun thrusts back in— it’s a cycle that leaves you constantly full and weak, and if it weren’t for Taehyun’s arm wrapped around your waist, you’re sure you would’ve fallen against Beomgyu already— though moments after, when Taehyun chooses to grab a hold of your hips in order to guide you onto them, you’re doing exactly that. 

“Feels good?” Beomgyu asks, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours, laughing cruelly at the drooly and fucked out mess you’ve turned into, barely able to mutter out a response from how good they’re fucking you, “Such a good girl— shit, ugh— always wanting to make us feel good, taking whatever we give her.”

“You have no idea how much we missed you,” Taehyun mutters against your skin, barely able to continue his sentence from the way you clench around them, your mixed arousals and the sound of skin slapping against skin almost drowning out your sounds, “Had us— ah… fucking bonding from how— ngh, how bad it was.”

The thought is enough to make you laugh— though you aren’t able to, not with the way they continue to fuck you roughly, your back arching from the way Taehyun’s clever hand begins to rub at your clit— you can only whine softly at the feeling, allowing them to toy with you however they’d like as Beomgyu sneaks a hand to play with your breasts. 

“Missed you— missed this,” Beomgyu rambles to himself, and you can feel the way his hips begin to stutter, losing their rhythm and affecting Taehyun in the process, “Just wanted to hear you cute little sounds again, my pretty girl.”

“Our pretty girl…” Taehyun corrects, though it’s only to tease as he feels you tighten around him— you’re close, he can tell, and it only fuels the two men to continue fucking you recklessly, “Can you cum for us, pretty? Wanna feel it, missed seeing you come on my cock, just give us one more, sweet thing—“

His words become foggy to your mind after that, but you can hear him guiding you the whole time you crash down, letting out a loud cry before Beomgyu’s cupping your face and guiding you to his lips, kissing you slowly and taking in your sounds as you practically drool against him— the kiss is messy and you’re barely able to process anything, feeling him bite your lips and run his tongue along your mouth teasingly before he laughs, pulling away to give you one last sweet kiss. 

“Want us to fill you up?” Beomgyu asks, his voice slightly tense as he continues to concentrate on not falling apart then and there; even through your foggy mind, you’re nodding eagerly, teary eyes affecting Beomgyu much more than he’d like to admit as he finally allows himself to cum inside you—you can hear Taehyun hiss softly at the feeling, triggering his own orgasm as the two men whimper at the feeling, unable to stop their cocks from rutting into you, sensitive from the way they continue to rub against each other inside.

You’re warm and filled to the point that it’s already begun to leak out— Taehyun swears that he’s never seen a better sight, and you’re burying your head into the crook of Beomgyu’s neck, mentally rolling your eyes at the way he pouts a soft no fair, I can’t see.

You don’t think you can bring yourself to move after that— lucky for you, you have two strong men to do your bidding— which is exactly why you’re able to find yourself in a warm bubble bath after a few minutes of rest, unable to stop yourself from marveling at the luxury of it all despite being with the two for— well, a year.

“I’m so happy to be back, seriously,” Beomgyu mutters, his head laying on your chest as you simply laugh, running your fingers through his hair fondly, “I don’t think I can be away from you for that long again.”

“Was it really that bad?” you ask softly, slightly embarrassed at how hoarse your voice is; they merely laugh fondly at you, and Taehyun’s arms circle around your waist before he’s pressing himself closer to you— you can feel him nod despite his forehead resting against your shoulder, and you merely roll your eyes at their theatrics, tilting your head back and resting your head against Taehyun’s shoulder, allowing him to slot his chin on your own, “Why don’t you just take me with you next time, hmm?”

“You’d like that?” Beomgyu immediately asks, titling his head back and looking at you with wide, sparkling eyes— you laugh, nodding softly as you watch him smile cutely in return, “You better not change your mind.”

“I won’t,” you muse, smiling at the way Taehyun places a soft kiss on your cheek, “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Because despite your doubts, they’ve really proven just how much you mean to them— and as you feel them cuddle closer to you, allowing yourself to sink into the warm water that soothes your sore body, you can’t control the way your heart flutters from the mere way they hold you.

God, you’re down bad.

[dollishmehrayan]

# GINGERBREAD HOUSES AND KISSES GALORE ── .✦ ( a drabble of building a gingerbread house with dick because why not )

a/n: can’t believe it’s already like 20th December and I haven’t wrote a actual fic && I’ve hadn’t done anything Christmas cheer either, tags: (dick grayson x fem!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

The kitchen was filled with the warm, inviting aroma of ginger and cinnamon, a testament to the holiday season. A soft glow illuminated the room as twinkling fairy lights draped across the windows. You stood at the countertop, a wide grin on your face as you opened the giant box of gingerbread house components. This was your annual tradition with Dick Grayson, and you were determined to make this year the best yet. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got!” you exclaimed, pulling out the pre-baked gingerbread panels, icing tubes, and an assortment of colorful candies. “I hope you brought your A-game, Grayson. Last year’s house was… well, let’s just say it resembled a sad little shack.”, “Hey, that was an artistic interpretation! This year, I promise you a mansion!” He rolled up his sleeves with exaggerated flair, the playful smile never leaving his face. You both got to work, establishing your mini gingerbread empire on the countertop. Dick was in charge of the assembly, carefully applying icing like a glue that held everything together. You, on the other hand, were the creative mastermind, directing the candy placement like a conductor leading an orchestra. “Let’s put the gummy bears in the front yard!” you suggested, shoving a handful of them toward him. “I thought we were going for a classy look? Gummy bears don’t exactly scream sophistication,” he teased, winking at you. You feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically on your heart. “What’s wrong with gummy bears? They add character! Besides, they can be the cheerful neighbors.” With a laugh, Dick complied, placing the gummy bears and popping one in his mouth, then placing around the doorstep of your half-finished gingerbread house. The two of you continued your banter, throwing ideas back and forth, with Dick keeping the house standing while you sprinkled candy canes and m&m’s like they were confetti. “Okay, but hear me out,” he said, looking serious for a moment. “What if we made the roof a little more… eclectic?” He held up a handful of marshmallows, a smirk playing on his lips. “Eclectic? You mean lopsided? Remember my last attempt at the roof? It looked like it had been through a windstorm!” “Exactly! Let’s give it some character!” He threw a marshmallow at you, and you ducked just in time, laughing as it ricocheted off the wall and landed on the floor for haley to eat. Through giggles and playful jabs, the gingerbread house began to take shape, each candy placement a step towards completion. You found your heartwarming joy in the simplicity of the moment just you and dick, surrounded by sweet chaos and laughter. Once the house was finally assembled, you both took a step back to admire your masterpiece. It was a bit crooked in places, and the roof did have a slight lean, but it was the most beautiful gingerbread house you had ever seen. It was yours, and it was perfect. “Okay,let’s take a picture!” you declared, grabbing your phone. Dick wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as you both posed with the house. “Say ‘gingerbread!’” he called, “No wait-“ and as the camera clicked the photo came out blurry but you both burst into laughter, your cheeks flushed with happiness. The rest of the night was spent sipping hot chocolate, munching on leftover candy, and reminiscing about past holidays. As the warmth of the room enveloped you, you felt content, knowing that these moments with Dick would always be your favorite memories. “Next year,” you said, leaning against him, “we’ll go for a full gingerbread village.” dick chuckled, his voice soft. “Only if I get to make the lopsided roofs again.” “Deal,” you replied, snuggling closer, the cozy atmosphere wrapping around you like a warm blanket, knowing that as long as you were together, every moment would be sweet. ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Price to Pay

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power dynamics, violence, blood, death, grief and trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: a robbery changes your entire life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 Siri's Birthday Bone-nanza! Happy Birthday. Enjoy. I've cooked you up some Mob AU+Andy Barber.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The flashing lights fade away with the squall of the siren. The smell of iron tinges the air and stains your every breath. You shudder as you stare through the tight squares between the bars across the windows.

That grating did little to deter the robber. No, he made you do it. You had no choice. 

You look down at your hands. Will the shaking ever stop? There’s blood crusted around your nails despite the frantic scrubbing in the bathroom. Once the officers took their evidence, you couldn’t stop trying to wash away the taint. 

The floor shows the crimson imprint of where the men fell. Where you went to hold him in the throes of death. The fate you fired into his chest. It was you or him. That’s what you told yourself. It’s what the police said too as they wrote out the report. Come down tomorrow and sign your statement, ma’am. 

Stan couldn’t be bothered to come down to the corner shop. He owns the place but is doesn’t mean he gives a shit. The officers waited for him to show but resigned themselves to following up later. 

He had a gun. You couldn’t do anything else but open the drawer and scoop out the bills. You weren’t going to do anything but hand over the money but then he fumbled and you did too. The scramble for the pistol under the counter slowed time. The pull of the trigger put it into overdrive. 

You can feel the recoil in your forearm. The rest of you is just as stiff. You can’t untie the tension left by the night’s deadly end. You killed that man. He's rolled him out under a sheet.

He bled out in your arms, even as you desperately tried to stem the flow with the dirty rag. Why did you shoot him? Over fifty bucks worth of change? 

Adrenaline. That’s what the cops told you. Stupidity is what you believe. This job isn’t worth all that. 

And you still have to finish your shift. You look away from the faded stain on the floor. He was so young. He just made a stupid decision and you took everything from him. He’s dead. You killed him. 

🚨

You stand outside the convenience store. Strange how it seems just the same as it was. The dingy moniker flaps at one corner as a tear rents the fabric.

Customers come and go as you stand on the curb. You’ve been standing there for an hour now, trying to make yourself go inside. You have to work. If you want to stay in the hell-hole you call a home, you need the stingy paycheck. 

You check the time. You’re not late yet. You only came early because you couldn’t stand to be alone in your apartment. Now that you’re here, you just want to go back. 

A bang jars you and you cry out, spinning to search for the source. A rusty old Chrysler chuffs out black smoke and rumbles loudly. Just a backfire. You knot your shaking hands together and search the block. 

“Heard something about a robbery,” a voice draws your attention towards another car. The model is too nice for a neighbourhood like this. A man leans against it, his hands in his pockets. “Young kid. They took him down to the morgue.” 

You squint at the man in confusion. His suit is finely tailored and his beard trimmed to a tee. He stands out among the sagging jeans and worn leather. You shake your head. 

“I heard...” you croak.  

“Sad. Stupid kid, huh? Stupid decision. All for a couple bucks.” He tuts and shakes his head. 

“Yeah, um, tragic. I...” you look over your shoulder. “I gotta work.” 

You turn away and march across the pavement. Something about the man’s cool demeanour sets you on edge. Or maybe it’s the reminder of the night before. Not that you could forget. 

You enter with the chirp of the bell and greet Mauricio as he plays solitaire on the counter top. Your sneakers squeak to a halt before you can step on the cracked tile with the red splotches. You stare down at the festering memory. 

“Tough night,” Mauricio says. “I never shot one, ya know? Always shoot past ‘em. Give ‘em a scare.” 

You tuck your chin down and step over the tile. Mauricio lets you in through the door and you sidle behind the counter. You put your purse in the cupboard by the cigarettes and sniff. You wring your hands and lean on the shelf as you wait for your shift to start. 

Mauricio shuffles the cards and packs them away. 

“You okay? Police were here earlier.” 

“They were?” You gulp. 

“Might be back. Think they just wanted some Coke,” he snickers and tosses the cards under the till. The gun is still gone, probably down in some evidence locker. “Stan is pissed about the pistol, ya know?” 

“Mm, I didn’t... didn’t mean to.” 

He sniffs as he pats his back pocket, making sure he has his wallet. “Sorry, senorita. It can’t be easy, wish I had some way to help but Stan isn’t gonna pay me nothin’ to stay and I got that gig down at Jethro’s.” 

“I’m fine.” The lie is less than convincing. 

“Told him, shouldn’t have you on nights.” He shakes his head as you move to let him past. 

“It’s work.” 

“Eh, it’s somethin’,” he scoffs and hands over the keys. “Whole thing was plastered in the paper and all over the internet. Should keep the bad ones away for a while. Place is hot now. No one wants to get their ass blown off over pocket change.” 

“Sure.” 

You clip the keys on your belt. You back up and cross our arms. You lean again as you wait for him to go. You can’t say what’s worse, being alone or talking about it. 

As Mauricio goes, a customer enters. She wants a pack of menthol and some scratchers. You ring her through as she snaps her gum between her teeth. The bell chimes with her exit and stutters as another enters. 

It’s the man in the nice suit. He stops at the newspaper rack and grabs an issue. He struts up to the counter and throws it down.  

“Just the paper?” You ask. 

He steps closer and opens the newsprint. The crinkle is deafening in the drone of the local radio station buzzing from the speaker above you. He taps the page. 

“Kid was eighteen.” 

You bite down and stare back at him. You don’t know what to say or do. Is he some sort of detective? His suit might suggest as much but he hasn’t flashed a badge. 

“It was a BB gun. Looked pretty real, didn’t it?” He spits. 

You wince and shrug. You trace your knuckles nervous as you look down at the paper. Your nose tingles, your eyes too. 

He backs up and heaves out a sigh. He glances around and strides up to the stained tile. He looks down at it emphatically. 

“Blood don’t come out easy. No matter how much you scrub or bleach. It’s like that Edgar Allan Poe story...” he raises his chin and closes his eyes, taking another deep. “Do you hear it? His heartbeat? Racing as the life drains out of him?” 

Your lip quivers and you shake your head. You flick away tears before they can fall, “I didn’t mean to.” 

His cheek twitches and he snorts. He turns to your stiffly. He comes back to the counter and you tense as he reaches under his jacket. You shudder and peek at the empty shelf beneath the till where the pistol should be. He slips out a photo and lays it down, his thumb lingering on the frame.  

You gasp. It’s that boy. He’s young and smiling. He doesn’t look scary like the night before. 

“You didn’t mean to kill my son? Over a bunch of piss-stained bills? You couldn’t tell the gun was a fucking toy?!” 

You cower and your eyes well. You rub them with your sleeves. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You fucking will be, sweetheart. Do you know who I am?” 

You stare and your mouth falls open. 

“His name was Jacob. Jacob Barber.” He swipes up the photo and snarls. “Any bells ringing?” 

You gape at him in horror. Barber. Yes, you’ve heard of him. He’s no detective. That suit is just a disguise. His business is deadly. His business is his ego. The personal is professional and you just stepped over the line. 

You brace yourself and drop your arms straight. You watch him, waiting. He looks back at you, agitation rippling above his brow. 

“Nothing else to say?” He sneers. 

“I deserve it.” 

He arches a brow, “deserve what?” 

“To die. So do it, please.” 

He laughs sardonically. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s cute.” He puts his hands on the counter and leans in. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m gonna do a lot fucking worse.” His eyes flick up and down and he pushes off. “You owe me and I always get what’s mine.” 

He twists on his heel and marches out. You gulp, frozen in fear, and watch after him. You don’t move until the next customer enters. Even then, you can hardly make your body listen to your fractured mind. 

🚨

There is no coming back. Thing’s don’t get better. You don’t calm down. You don’t sleep. You barely eat.  

All you can think about is the blood gushing from that boy’s chest. When you manage to close your eyes, you feel the hot stream flowing through your fingers. You smell it in the air. Beneath it all, you hear his father’s threat. 

‘You owe me...’ 

How can you repay that sort of debt? You killed his child. You didn’t have to. You could have handed over the money and told Stan the kid had a gun pointed right at you. Why did you do it? That question is as torturous as the memory. 

A week goes by. Ragged nights followed by desolate days. You stand behind that counter and stand at the reddened tile, or sit at home and rot. You wait for him to come back. Maybe then he’ll just end it. 

Another week of purgatory and your dissociation gives way to paranoia. Every time the shop door opens, you expect to see him. Barber and his tailored-jacket, a gun in his hand, ready to claim what’s owed. Every stranger on the street is just him in disguise, every shadow in your apartment is him haunting you. 

When he does appear, a month to the day, you’re almost relieved. There he is at your apartment door, stood as he was the first time you saw him. Arms crossed, leaning, looming. You stop and stare at him.  

He looks you in the eye and nods at the door. You unlock it and let him in. He isn’t in a suit this time. He’s dressed down, a hoodie and jeans. He doesn’t seem the type for denim. He struts inside and you close the door behind him. 

The air is static as he examines the bachelor suite. Your whole life in a single room. He is unimpressed as he stops by the table. Stan lets you take the old papers. You’ve brought home every single issue with a mention of the boy; Jacob. You don’t know why. 

His blue eyes are darkened in the gloom of your apartment. His beard is thick across his cheeks and defines his square jaw. His features are stony in determination. 

He pushes them to the floor and huffs. He stalks around the space as you stand by the door. You imagine him spinning to you, pulling a gun from under his sweater and firing. You could smile at the thought of it ending. 

He stops at the foot of your bed. The lumpy mattress sits on a metal frame. Beige sheets are pulled to the corners, a plaid comforter strewn carelessly below a single pillow. A used double you got from the thrift shop with your first pay. It smells like cigarettes. 

You stare at his broad shoulders as he runs his hand up his front. His zipper slices through the silence as he pulls it down. He shrugs off the hoodie and spins on his heel. He slings it over the only chair, right beside the table. He looks up at you, eyes blazing. 

“Strip.” 

His demand shakes you. It’s the first you’ve felt anything but horrible grief and self-pity. You’re afraid. You weren’t before. Just anxious. 

“Don’t say a fucking word,” he snarls as he tugs at his long-sleeved tee. 

You untie your sneakers and leave them by the door. You cross the room, staying far from him as you take in every inch. The apartment feels even smaller now.  

You unzip your jacket and fold it over the side of the plastic hamper in the corner. You pull of your socks and drop them into the depth of unwashed clothes. You undo your fly, your hands clumsy and shaking. The rustle behind you adds to the speckle of ember under your skin. 

You push your jeans down and step out of them. You throw them into the basket and peek over your shoulder. He stands at the foot of the bed once more. His hands are on his hips as he glares at the mattress. He wears only a pair of dark briefs. 

His intent isn’t hard to fathom. It’s not about the act itself, it’s the power, the humiliation. You ruined his life; he’ll do the same. 

“Hurry the fuck up,” he barks. 

You pull your shirt off and fumble with the back of your bra. You can barely get a grip as you quake. You push down your underwear and hang your head. You turn and march forward. He shoves down the elastic of his briefs at your approach. 

He’s a big man. Tall, muscular, stronger than you, without a doubt. Even if he wasn’t, he has all the power to keep you in line. 

“I don’t want to see your fucking face. Get on your stomach.” He commands as he peels off his last layer. 

You put your hands on the mattress and crawl over it. You cry out as he strikes you across your ass and sends you flat. You brace yourself on your elbows and whimper. He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed.  

He hauls your legs over the edge so your feet are on the floor. He growls and scratches up the back of your thigh. You whine and he swats the back of your head. 

“Quiet,” he warns. 

He leans over you and plants his hands on either side of you. You stare up at the pillow, focusing on it as you desperately search for the numbness of those last weeks. It’s all gone now. You feel everything. The sting of flesh, the futility, the horror. 

He lifts a hand, the bed shifting with him, and traces along your spine. He dips along your ass and kicks your legs wider. He feels between your thighs and jams his fingers against your folds. He’s impatient and cruel. He rams two fingers into you and you squeak, spine arching as you grasp the linen comforter. 

He hushes you as he pushes deep. His knuckles press against you and he draws back. He jerks his hand gruffly, fucking your dry cunt raw. You hold your breath as he plumes out around you. Each intrusion is dull and achy. 

He tears free of your cunt and angles over you. He guides his tip along the swell of your ass and presses to your entrance. There is no time to be ready for him. 

You cry out and throw your head up. It’s like a red-hot iron inside of you, burning from inside out. He snarls and hooks his arm around you, smothering your mouth in his hand. You smell yourself on his fingers as the press against your nose. 

He snaps his hips and buries himself in you. You kick the floor and slap the mattress. Your muscles tighten and your bones thrum. He pushes his nose into your hair and ruts again. You squeal into his palm as your eyes bead with tears. 

He’s methodical. He pumps into you. Long, slow strokes so you feel every inch. He’s taunting you. He’s punishing you. His hot breath wraps around your scalp as he puffs. 

He bends his other arm, elbow digging into the limp mattress, and stretches his fingers around your throat.  He collapses onto you, crushing you beneath him as he squeezes your neck and jaw. He has you trapped in his grip. 

His pace quickens with his breath. He grunts and growls against your temple as the bed frame whines with his rhythm. His flesh slaps between the squeaky tempo and your pathetic mewling stays cupped behind his rough hand. 

He pounds you into the mattress, each dip of his hips heavier than the last. Every ounce of emotion; anger, grief, resent, hatred, is hammered into your helpless body. 

He puts his teeth around the brim of your ear and pinches. He growls and you feel the rumble roll through him. His thrusts turn snappy, punctuated by the bite of your flesh. Harder, harder, harder. He spasms but doesn’t let up. 

He untangles his arms from under you and pins your shoulders. He fucks his cum into you as he lifts himself up. His weight threatens to pop your bones out of joint. He pushes his thighs against yours, splaying you as far as he can. 

His furious onslaught doesn’t let up until your thighs and cunt are painted in him. Until your breathless and babbling, head lolling, defeated as he leaves you smeared across the blankets. He burrows in as deep as he can before he pulls out. 

He pushes off the bed, jarring the world around you, and his shadow hangs over you. He inhales and lets it out slowly. 

“My son. My only child,” he grits out. He bends and feels along your cunt, spreading the slimy mess leaking from your cunt. “You owe me and I will get exactly what you took from me.” 

[photo1030]

Pls do a fic or smthing where readers old guy friend finds her and they reconnect and they’re both crying and Arthur is like who is this and reader is like he’s my closest friend from home I haven’t seen him in ages and Arthur is all jealous kinda

Hi, Kids!

So sorry for the wait. Life has been busy, but I've been plugging away on this one. Thank you so much for this "ask"! This was actually an idea that I had for my regular "Arthur x reader" fic, so I was happy to oblige. I wrote this to coincide with my reg fic and I decided to go more angsty than smutty for this one, so I hope that is OK for the Anon who asked.

**Special thanks to @readingcoco for beta-reading for me. Your help was priceless.

LEATHER AND LACE - SAY HELLO TO AN OLD FRIEND

Summary: Arthur is none too pleased when you run into an old friend from your previous life. 

*This is not my image. This belongs to Rafa on Pintrest. Beautiful work there.

Masterlist

Tagging: @daisybvck

The banging of an anvil echoes heavily in your ears, the deafening ringing thumping in your brain. You and Arthur have wandered into the busy town of Cripple Creek to see the local farrier. You have spent the last day hunting and while coming down through the valley pass, your horse, Blue, had thrown a shoe. Never one to neglect your horse, you insisted Arthur take you into the closest town to get him some attention immediately. 

Now, Arthur is a firm believer in taking proper care of one’s horse, as a man’s horse means his survival. But the way you fuss over this spoiled animal as if he were your child causes Arthur to just chuckle and shake his head at you. 

Coming out of the farrier’s building, you shield the sun from your eyes as you look around at the townspeople. The area seems pleasant enough. It is a depot location for one of the railroad lines, so there is a lot of traffic. People are coming and going, always in a hurry to go somewhere or nowhere. But always in a hurry to get there all the same. 

You passed several pungent livestock farms on the way here, but now you can inhale deeply, enjoying the fresh air being pulled into your lungs. A slight breeze kicks up, lifting the soft tendrils of hair that frame your face to sway gently in its wake.

Arthur looks over as he lights his cigarette, amused at how your eyes roll closed and your whole body relaxes in a rare moment of peace and quiet. He really should get you out of that camp more often. Maybe he’ll hold off a bit on returning home, and the two of you can spend some more time alone together.

You can feel the bulk of him leaning in closer to you as his gloved hand runs down your spine to land on the small of your back. “Well, what do ya think? Should we get a room for the night or just rut about in the woods like we usually do?” 

Your lips pull into a smile at his suggestion, and when you open your eyes, you are met with Arthur’s twinkling suggestively at you. Your face immediately brightens as you turn your body into him, hands finding their way to his broad chest. Your fingertips play with the upturned collar of his faded black button-down shirt. Giggling with excitement at the idea, you push up onto your tiptoes, your nose flirtatiously inches from his. Arthur’s hands settle comfortably at your hips, his arms enfolding you.

“Y/N? Y/F&LN, is that you?”

 A vaguely familiar voice distracts you from answering Arthur’s question, but you can’t quite place it. Turning your head in confusion, you search for the source, and suddenly, your eyes widen with recognition. 

“Robert?” Your gaze lands on a tall, slender man making his way through the crowd towards you. He is well-dressed in a blue and gold brocade vest and has auburn hair neatly combed back. He’s sporting more facial hair than you remember, giving him a distinguished look. He’s a bit older now, but you’d recognize that wide, toothy smile anywhere. An unexpected shriek of excitement escapes your lips as your hands slip away from Arthur. “Robert!!”

Arthur stands there dumbfounded as he watches excitement overtake your whole body as you run into the waiting arms of this mystery man. Who in the hell is this person? And why did you just abandon Arthur to embrace him like that? You and this strange man hug each other tightly, laughing and smiling as if God himself had gifted you each other.

“I thought you were dead, Y/N!” the man exclaims, holding you at arm’s length so he can take a good look at you. 

“I thought you went to Europe! I thought I’d never see you again!” you laugh incredulously. Shaking your head in wonder, you throw your arms around the man’s neck again.

Arthur stands quietly, eyebrows knitted together, lips pulled into a thin line. He doesn’t like this one bit. The only person he’s ever seen you this excited over is him. Arthur’s fingers tap impatiently along his belt where his hands sit idle, as he waits for you to finish this reunion. Eventually, he clears his throat to try to turn your attention back to him.

Finally remembering yourself, you turn towards Arthur. “Arthur, this is Robert, my best friend.” Arthur’s eye catches how your arm eagerly loops around the man’s elbow. “We knew each other as kids. We grew up together back east!” You continue to gush as you present your old friend to your current lover. “Robert, this is Arthur.” You motion to the mountain of a man standing to your right. 

Robert’s face lights up as he boldly strides closer, extending his hand out to shake Arthur’s. “So nice to meet you, Arthur!” His voice chirps with bravado and swagger, instantly making Arthur’s skin crawl. When Arthur doesn’t reply with the same enthusiasm, Robert turns back to you, eyebrows raised with curiosity. “So, is this your…husband?”

A slight giggle comes from your lips at the suggestion. “No, we’re not married. But he is mine.” You smile proudly at Arthur, your hand reaching over and squeezing his. Arthur smiles down at you as his body drifts slightly closer to yours. His strong arm snakes around your waist until you rest protectively against him. When he sees you beaming at him, it sets him at ease a bit with this intruder and he tries to relax a little. 

“Robert, is it? Well, Robert, looks like you and Y/N go way back, huh?” Arthur asks, trying not to come off as annoyed as he feels right now. 

“Oh boy, do we. We used to get in all kinds of trouble together.” Robert waves his hand in emphasis, then reaches out to tap your arm. “Y/N, remember when we used to sneak out and stay up ‘til 3:00 in the morning?”

You cover your mouth in embarrassment. “God, if my father ever found out what we were up to, he’d have taken a belt to me for sure!” you roll your eyes.

Robert’s dark eyes fall upon you with a sweet and nostalgic look, one held with affection of a time long past. “Used to be you and me, spitting off the edge of the world, right?” He leans over to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from Arthur and into his side.

You smile affectionately back at your friend, nodding in agreement. “That’s right. You and me.” 

‘You and me’ - The phrase sticks in Arthur’s brain, a phrase you should only be using in reference to him… not some other random fella. His lip curls into a slight sneer of contempt, however, you are too caught up in the camaraderie with your friend to notice. 

“We need to catch up! Come on, let’s get a drink and a bite to eat. I want to know everything that’s been going on with you since we last saw each other,” insists Robert, tugging on the sleeve of your white cotton tunic. 

“Oh, yes!” You turn towards Arthur. “Can we, Arthur? We have time, don’t we?”

Right now, Arthur wants nothing more than to get you away from this man, this town and everyone else in the world. But he can’t say no to that wishful look on your face. He doesn’t have the heart to crush your hope. That has always been Arthur’s weakness:  he can never say no to you. 

“Fine, I guess we got some time to spare,” Arthur reluctantly agrees, trying to hide the disdain that threatens to break through his patient facade. You clasp your hands together, giving a little hop of excitement.

The three of you turn to head down the side of the street, with you and Robert chit-chatting incessantly the whole time. As you stroll along, Robert explains how he has become a lawyer and is traveling to California to take care of some estate affairs for a prominent family. He is just stopping for a layover in Cripple Creek to catch a connecting train.

Instead of going to a saloon, you reach a little restaurant along the main strip in town and head inside. Robert orders a bottle of the best liquor the bar has to offer, and you all sit around a table as he proceeds to tell you of all the gossip from back home. 

Robert is so animated and full of life and fun, not caring at all about the judgmental looks of others as he loudly tells you anecdote after anecdote. But he’s always been like this. For as long as you’ve known him Robert doesn’t care what anyone thinks and therefore is free to do as he pleases. This is something that you have always loved about him and why you were such good friends when you were younger. He was a breath of fresh air in a stuffy upper-class world. And to be honest, you always had a bit of a crush on him, too.

“So, David and Clare got married, you know,” he smirks. Of course, Robert is referring to your ex-fiance who you were betrothed to, who, as it turned out, was sleeping with your friend the whole time. 

“I figured as much,” you reply dismissively.

“Huge obnoxious wedding, of course.” Robert waves his hand with a flourish.

You huff out an unimpressed chuckle. “I figured as much,” you repeat again.

“Wasn’t even six months, and the rumors were flying about his infidelity.” Robert laughs at the absurdity of it. You roll your eyes and take a large swig from your glass. “You dodged a bullet there, my friend.” Robert gives you a wink. 

Arthur has to stifle a snicker at the irony of the man’s choice of language.

“Probably should’ve just married you myself,” smiles Robert. The statement makes you blush a bit under Robert’s affectionate gaze. But it is a statement that sets Arthur on edge. 

Arthur patiently pretends to listen as you and Robert continue to laugh and joke about old friends and the social scene you left behind, the pair of you growing more and more chummy, until eventually, you find yourself resting a hand on Robert's forearm as you speak. Arthur clenches his fist tightly under the table, his eyes staring at your fingers and watching as they absentmindedly dance along Robert’s arm. It is not intended to be a flirtatious move, as it is a mannerism that you often do when you are excited about what you are talking about. But it is an action that Arthur resents all the same right now. 

You try your best to involve Arthur in the conversation but to be frank, you are discussing people and places that he has no frame of reference for. The only thing that does pique his interest is the way Robert keeps referring to you. That certainly has Arthur's attention. But he has to be careful. He can see how happy you are and doesn't want his temper to burst your little bubble. However, if he had his way, he would be grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to the closest hotel to make you forget your own name, let alone another man's.

Arthur hates that you have this “other language” and bond with someone who is not only outside the gang, but outside his class altogether. He’d forgotten where you came from and what you’d given up to be with the Van Der Linde gang and him along with it. And this conversation with this ghost of your past only confirms it. Arthur tries not to glare at Robert as he takes in the man’s fine clothing and clean hands that have probably never seen a day of labor in his life. 

The whole thing is a harsh reminder that Arthur may not only be holding you back in life but actually pushing you down. 

“So,” Robert finally turns his attention away from you, ”What do you do for a living, Art?” Robert asks innocently.

The very sound of Robert’s voice makes Arthur bristle. “The name…is Arthur,” he grits out. “And it’s none of your damn business what I do.” At this point, Arthur wants nothing more than to plant his massive fist in this pompous fool’s face.

You instantly pick up on Arthur’s annoyance. You can see his steel blue eyes set hard as his fist clenches around the glass in his hand. Arthur’s head tilts slightly to the side as he watches Robert, and you know from experience that he is measuring the man up. Robert is only being nice, ever the extravert, but he has no idea what sort of man is sitting across from him. 

“Easy now, Arthur,” you chuckle nervously as you pat his burly forearm. “Robert is only asking out of curiosity.” Arthur shoots you a look that you can’t quite place. “Arthur does a little bit of everything,” you quickly answer Robert to avoid further awkwardness. “He’s done bounty work, loan collecting, things like that.”

“Interesting,” muses Robert. 

“Well, I’d rather be an honest sinner than a lying hypocrite,” asserts Arthur as he levels his gaze across the table at Robert.

“I assume you work with horses quite a bit, too, then?” Robert pushes as his eyes roam up and down over Arthur.

“I do.”

“Figured as much. You seem pretty ‘rough and rugged’ like the cowboys we read about back in the city.” Arthur’s eyebrows knit as his mouth turns into a slight frown. “Oh, I don’t mean anything by it, friend! You look fantastic!” Robert insists. “In fact, I couldn’t be happier for Y/N. Looks like she’s got herself a real man. Those sniveling, uppity simpletons back home were never her type.”

“And I assume you are?” Arthur asks. This causes you to look at him questioningly. 

“Me? Oh, no. We were never like that.” Robert waves the comment off, not reading the underlying meaning of Arthur’s question.

“He’s right. Being married to Robert would be like being married to a puppy,” you joke, trying to lighten the ominous mood that Robert is thankfully oblivious to.

“True. But, you have to admit, we would have made quite the pair, wouldn’t we?” Robert leans over and nudges you in the side with that wide smile of his again. 

Arthur roughly grabs his glass of whiskey and throws it back, the bitter liquor hitting his throat, before he slams the glass down onto the table. 

“What are you gettin’ at, there, Robert? Hmm? You think Y/N would be better off with you than me? Is that it?” The icy stare that Arthur throws at Robert is cold enough to frost the windows of the room. His chiseled jaw sets tightly, his body tense as if about to explode. Your stomach drops as you realize that Robert has indeed crossed a line with Arthur, whether he has intended to or not. And you find yourself at an impasse:  do you stand by your man, or do you defend your oldest and dearest friend?

Finally, seeing that Arthur is not amused by his antics, Robert takes the hint and clears his throat nervously. “Well, it has been so wonderful to catch up with you, Y/N!” He stands up from the table and adjusts his vest, running his hand over his hair to make sure everything is still in its place. You and Arthur stand as well in anticipation of the farewell. You are reluctant to say goodbye to your friend, and Arthur is anxious to leave. 

The three of you silently file out of the little restaurant together and onto the busy sidewalk.

“I truly hope we can do this again sometime soon, Y/N. Maybe if I swing through these parts again, I’ll reach out.” Robert says hopefully.

“I’d like that, Robert. Please do.” You affectionately place your hand on his arm. “I’ve missed you quite a bit since I’ve been out here.” You give each other a tight hug, one that lasts a bit longer than Arthur’s liking. But then again, Arthur doesn’t like anyone touching you for any reason. 

“Arthur, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Robert smiles and sticks his arm out to shake Arthur’s hand again, which he reluctantly does. Arthur’s large hand dwarfs Robert’s as it clamps down extra hard. “Take good care of our girl, yes?” 

“Sure,” Arthur deadpans. “Our girl.”

Robert gives you both an awkward smile and turns to head back down the street towards the train depot. Your eyes follow him as your chest feels heavy at having to say goodbye to a part of your past. 

When you turn back to Arthur to thank him for his patience, you are met with his hard face. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he snaps. 

Sighing in exasperation, you cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t give me that.” You knew this argument was coming. 

“Just that you seem awfully close with that Robert fella.” The contempt in Arthur’s voice is not lost on you.

“Well, yeah, he’s my best friend.” 

Arthur’s jaw clenches just a bit more at your answer. “Uh-huh.”

Your head tilts slightly to the side, eyes narrowing as you study him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Like I said, you two seem awfully close.” His voice drops low and slow, almost spitting out the words like a spoiled piece of meat.

“That’s because we are. He was the only true friend I had, Arthur.” You shuffle your weight from hip to hip, becoming increasingly uncomfortable under Arthur’s scrutiny. You suddenly feel like one of his marks.

“Uh-huh.” Arthur’s simple responses quickly escalates your annoyance as you watch him pull a cigarette out of his pocket, striking the match on the nearby building with enough force that the wooden stick almost snaps between his fingertips. 

“Oh my God, are you jealous?” you ask, disturbed at the turn in the conversation. 

“Nope.” Dipping his head down, his eyes are hidden by his dusty, worn hat as his fingers bring the cigarette back up to his lips. 

“No?”

“Alright, maybe I am,” he suddenly spins on you, face turning crimson. “Maybe I don’t like how excited you get to see another man. Maybe I don’t like you all laughing and smiling at someone else.” 

Your heart begins to pound in your ears, taken aback by his surge of anger. “Arthur-”

“Don’t!” he barks at you. “Just…don’t! I can’t compete with that, and you know it!” He points his finger accusingly at you. 

“Arthur, I'm not asking you to compete with anyone! In fact, there’s a reason why I left all that behind.” You step towards him, arms raised to embrace him, but he blocks your hands with his own.

“Save it!” And he storms off, leaving you standing there on the sidewalk. Butterflies swirl in your stomach, leaving you queasy. A storm of guilt, frustration, and yes even anger, rages inside your chest. You wrap your arms around yourself as you try to make sense of what just happened.

“Damn it, Arthur,” you mutter. 

—---------------------------------------------------

Rather than chase after him, you decide to leave Arthur be and give him time to cool off. There’s no talking to him when he gets like this, as it usually escalates into a fight if you push it. You feel awful for making him feel bad, as you are well aware of how self-conscious he is. But then again, what about your feelings? You have every right to visit with an old friend and a dear one at that. Yes, you know how it looks. You and Robert always did have a special bond that bordered on the flirtatious side. But you love Arthur. And he knows that. You love him with a depth that could swallow the stars. And you are getting tired of having to constantly prove that to him.

After an hour of wandering the local shops to stall for time, you decide to find Arthur, knowing exactly where you’ll find him. Your boot heels click along the worn floorboard of the porch outside of the saloon. You can hear the chatter and piano music coming from inside. You look through the window, eyes searching for your target. Between the small sea of dusty hats and hulking shoulders, you catch sight of that familiar form that you seek. 

Walking into the building, your hands roll over each other, fingers intertwining, as you take a shaky breath when you approach Arthur at the bar. You glide onto the stool beside him, fidgeting slightly to get comfortable. He sits quietly, still brooding with a menacing vibe radiating off of him. You motion to the bartender, who walks over when he catches your eye. “What’ll it be, Miss?”

“A beer, please.” 

“Comin’ right up”. It only takes a minute for him to grab a bottle and set it next to the coin you’ve already placed for him. His thick, ready fingers pick it up off the bar top with a pleasant nod of approval as he sets about his previous task. 

You spin the bottle between your fingertips, looking at Arthur from the corner of your eye. “So, are we going to talk about this?”

He continues to sulk quietly, lifting a shot of whiskey to his lips and downing it in one. His jaw clenches at the sting of the cheap liquor, but he promptly pours another shot into the diminutive glass, the bottle half empty at this point.

“Alright, fine.” You take a swig of your beer.

“Where’s your ‘friend’?” Arthur grunts without even looking at you. 

“Robert is about to get on a train.”

“Mmhmm”.

“Arthur-”

“Alright, look, I’m sorry,” he interupts, slicing his hand through the air as if to end the argument right here. “Please don’t make a big deal outta this.”

“What were you worried about? That I’d run off with Robert?”

“Wouldn’t you?” he blurts out bitterly.

“You can’t be serious?” Your face twists up in shock. He only answers you with a snort of derision. “Arthur, I was excited to see an old friend. That’s all,” you stress emphatically. “You have to remember, I am surrounded by your people, your family, all of the time. This is the first time I’ve seen someone from my previous life.” Your tone unwittingly begins to take on one of annoyance as you try to plead your case. But it is an argument that is falling on deaf and angry ears.

“I’m sorry, I thought the gang was ‘your people’, too,” he bites back. Arthur can be a reasonable man until he is provoked, and then reason doesn’t factor in at all. 

“Well, they are,” you backpedal sheepishly at his harshness. Your gaze falters to land on the bottle in your hands before attempting to meet Arthur’s again. “But you know what I mean. You can’t be angry because I was happy to see someone from my life that, heaven forbid, didn’t involve the Van der Linde gang.” 

Artur just pouts in silence. You are getting really irritated at this point, but trying to remain calm and not cause a scene.

“So you’d just let me run away with Robert rather than talk to me and ask me to stay with you? Is that it?” you huff.

“Couldn't help but notice how excited you were to hear about everything back home. Almost like you miss it. Pretty damn clear after your little visit today that you don’t even belong here. Maybe you should.” And another shot gets poured into the glass.

Damn it, and there it is. The thing that always seems to be present in your relationship:  the idea that you still don’t belong, even after all this time and everything that you’ve done. Arthur still doesn’t see you as “one of them”. And it is a sting that doesn’t sit well with you at all. 

Your eyes begin to well up as you try to fight the lump forming in your throat. ”I can’t believe you just said that to me.” Your lips tremble slightly with emotion, a mix of betrayal and anger swirling and bubbling up inside you like one of Pearson’s stews.

The very insinuation is hurtful to you. You have turned your life upside down for the gang and for him. And yet, it seems it will never be enough. It’s as if you are being punished for having a decent life before you were thrust into this new one. You didn’t fit into society back east, and it seems you still don’t fit here either. 

“Stop with the theatrics. I ain’t in a mood for it.” Arthur slings back another shot of whiskey. 

“You really are an ass sometimes, Arthur,” you stammer in disappointment.

He immediately slams his shot glass down on the bar, shattering it. The action startles you, your eyes shooting wide open. Arthur finally turns to face you now, his eyes burning into you so intensely that it causes you to cringe. You know damn well that you’re not perfect. But, it always made you feel special that Arthur seemed to think so. But the look he’s giving you right now is plain enough for you to know that he no longer believes it. 

And the wounded expression on your face enrages Arthur even more. The sight of you cowering like a lamb to slaughter because of his anger is too much. He’s furious at the everything right now:  you, Robert, this town, and more importantly, himself. He grabs the whiskey bottle on the counter and whips it at the wall, sending shards of glass flying into the thick smokey air to rain down onto the immediate vicinity. 

With your breath shaking, you slowly stand and back away from him. For the first time ever…you are afraid of him.

The tumultuous noise alerts the bartender, who promptly yells at Arthur. “Hey, watch it! You gotta problem, you take it outside! Don’t be causing a ruckus around here!” He shoves his thick, meaty finger towards the doors. 

“Mind your own goddamn business ‘fore I give you a problem!” Arthur shouts back, now standing as well, leveling his gaze at the bartender. 

With Arthur distracted by the barkeep, you turn and push your way through the now-curious crowd and make a dash for the door. 

Your feet clumsily carry you down the steps as you sprint into the street, eyes watering and hands trembling from anger. 

“Hey! Hey! (Y/N)!” It doesn’t take long before you hear Arthur’s gravelly voice hollering down the street for you. 

“Leave me alone, Arthur!” you shout over your shoulder, not even bothering to turn around. Tears of anger are dangerously close to flowing as you walk even faster, your arms pumping back and forth to propel you further down the road. But Arthur is quick to catch up to you with his long strides.

“Where you goin’?” You can hear him quickly stalking up behind you, his spurs jingling heavily in the dirt of the street. 

“Doesn’t matter, right? I don’t belong here, remember?” You throw his words back into his face with such a biting tone. “Maybe I’ll see if there’s a seat next to Robert on the damn train!”

“Like hell you will!” Arthur yanks on your arm, his grip painful like a vice, spinning you around. 

But before you can even think clearly, your hand flies as if of its own accord, and you hear the sharp smack land across his cheek, cracking in the air before you feel the sting against your delicate hand. Arthur’s head snaps to the side from the strike, his eyes twisted shut from the impact.

Gasping, your eyes shoot open in shock as your hands immediately cover your mouth. You stand there, silent and trembling. Your chest heaves with broken breathing and choked sobs as you take a few steps back from him. You hate him so much right now. Not because of what he’s said, although that is bad enough, but because he has pushed you to this point. You never, ever want to hurt him. Arthur is dearer to you than life itself. You had never imagined raising a hand or weapon to the man you so desperately love, and yet, he has pushed you, backed you into a corner, to do so. 

“Oh…I’m sorry,” you utter, the sound barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Arthur.” Your eyes are glossy with unshed tears as your unwavering gaze never leaves his face, waiting with bated breath for his reaction. As you blink rapidly, a tear finally escapes your lower lash to cascade and roll over your hot cheek. 

Arthur freezes before his gaze slowly turns back to you. But what he sees shocks him. The very sight of you in your heightened state almost breaks his heart in two. Shame coats his insides as he realizes his jealousy has gotten the best of him. And the pain and fear in your eyes is worse than any bullet to the gut, rocking him to his very core. 

Arthur’s expression journeys from one of rage to shock to one of absolute remorse. He says nothing, which begins to terrify you even more. Arthur is known for his temper, even taking his frustrations out on you when needed. You pride yourself on the notion that Arthur may be difficult to handle but never for you. You have always been able to read him, to know his mind better than himself, which is why he relies on you so greatly. You set his world to right when it goes off-kilter. But now, you feel a great divide between you. You stare at him with no idea of what will happen next. 

Arthur’s strong arms extend out towards you as a silent apology. But instead of falling into them, you shrink back from him. He halts immediately, turning his palms up in surrender. But slowly, he steps a bit closer to you. Arthur reaches out again, wrapping his hands carefully around your biceps. He can feel you tremble slightly under his fingertips. 

Regret sits heavily upon his brow. You can see the self-reproach embedded into his eyes as he stares into yours, searching for forgiveness that he prays you’ll grant him.

Your eyes leave his face, a silent understanding settling between you as you focus on the buttons of his shirt, watching as his chest rises and falls with his calming breath. 

With a deep sigh, he silently escorts you into the privacy of the immediate alley, gently pushing you back against the siding of the post office. 

“You’re mine.” Arthur does not say this out of anger or possession. Nor has he faltered into a blubbering mess. He simply utters the statement as pure fact, no question.  

“Am I?” you stammer. Your eyes lift to search his, looking for any doubt that may still linger. 

“You sure as shit are.” Arthur’s voice is low but carries the loving undertone you always take refuge in as the slightest hint of a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“Really? Ten minutes ago, you were ready to let me walk out that door. Told me that I shouldn’t be here.”

Arthur pulls his lips inward at the dismay in your quaking voice. “I shouldn’t ‘ve said that. That was me being a goddamn idiot. But, it is true, ya know. You don’t belong in that gang, Y/N. I keep tellin' ya you’re too good for it. You deserve the finer things in life, things like Robert can give ya.” 

Your shoulders fall with a painful sigh as your eyes gently drift shut again. You are so tired of having this same conversation over and over again.

“But,” he continues, “I do want you there. I want you with me. I need you, Y/N. We need you. It’s selfish, I know.” His chin bobs slightly in acknowledgement. “God forgive me, but we do.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Arthur. I want to belong somewhere. And to someone.” You look at Arthur with an almost desperate expression on your face. Your whole life, you’ve been floating like a leaf in the wind, bobbing about with no particular place to land. You thought you had finally found your place, your home, with the Van Der Linde gang, no matter how unlikely it seemed. And when Arthur threw it back in your face, it was like being pushed off a cliff to free-fall backwards with no one to catch you. 

He lifts his rough hand to cup your face, his thumb ghosting over your cheek. “I won’t ever let you go, Y/N. Not ever. Not even if someone else comes along.” Your eyes begin to flutter again as the feeling of his skin on yours reassures you. You wrap your own hands around his wrist, holding his hand in place as you lean your face into his warm palm.

“Arthur, I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. The way you make me feel when I look at you is why I could never look at another.” Your eyes sparkle brightly in earnest, the last of your tears rimmed along your lashes. 

He only hesitates a moment before he pulls you close to him. He secures you safely against him where you belong, your chest pressed up against his as powerful arms coil around you to lock you in. Arthur lowers his face to nudge your nose with his before planting his lips to kiss you slow and deep, taking your breath away.

When his lips separate from yours, Arthur briefly rests his forehead on yours before pulling back to look into your face once more. His eyes are intense and reflect a deeper shade of blue than you’ve ever seen. A wolfish grin begins to emerge under that peppered beard stubble as his finger tucks a rogue strand of hair behind your ear.

“Like I said, Y/N, you…are…mine.”

[delugguk]

is this okay?

pair: jungkook x reader

rated: mature

word count: 1.7k

warnings: sexual content.

Part two.

autor’a note: helllooooooo I know it’s been a while and since I haven’t finished my many fics that I have (I know, k word me pls but don’t, actually skdj) this live (or more like the way he looks) made me go kinda feral for him so I had to do this !! this is compleeeetely unedited because I wrote it super fast and I’m just posting it as it is !! with nothing more to say, I miss and love every single one of you that keep coming back to my stories or just finding out about it, believe me when I say I appreciate every single one of you, even if you’re new!! you’re here for a reason 🫶🏼 thank you for liking my stuff and I’ll be more open to you guys later since I one to make a while make over on this account lmaO, anyways, enjoy and let’s get feral together while kook’s cook his album🤍🧚🏼✨

~*^~*~^~*~^*~~^*~^~*~^~*~^~*~^~*~^~*^~*~^~*~^~*

you blame it on him.

he didn’t had to seat like that, stare at you like that and even bite his lower lips like that. it was something so subtle and you swore his eyes glistened so much, you could almost mistaken them for desire.

but what if..?

no.

you needed to control yourself. you promised you wouldn’t be jumping his bones the moment he called you to make him some company. you know you two are close friends.

but damn.

can’t deny the massive sexual attraction that’s so intense with only doing something so innocent as much as sinful like eye contact.

it’s crazy.

or at least that’s what you think.

jungkook can be complicated at times. but, fuck. you suddenly remember his fainted voice when talking to that girl. “sure, but can you handle me?”. you didn’t know what he or they were referring to, you were just trying to pass by in those big echoing college halls.

of course, you thought about— the worst.

he was fine as hell, okay? to say he isn’t fucking around just makes NO sense.

but the day you met him or—no. the day you two met at that reunion.. fuck. just thinking about it already makes your pussy pop. how embarrassing.

he looked so fine.. he teased you just right.. ugh! stupid hormones! why does it have to be so rich to have sex.. you wanted to fuck him here and there. a little dance could do so much..

“..y/n?”

suddenly you’re back to earth. (with a flaming pussy as we speak).

“yeah?” disconnected, you blink once again. jungkook just smirks.

“I told you, not to worry about it. just come seat,” he pats his side of the sofa, two times. “next to me.”

stupid beanie, stupid white shirt and stupid tattoos.

why does he has to look so cute and fine at the same time? not only that but the way he smelled? a fucking perfect man. who the hell smells that good? it isn’t even a strong essence but rather a soft/sexy one..

“no.” oh.. you can’t help yourself anymore. “I want to seat here.” you said as each of your legs takes place beside his waist.

yep, you boldly seated on top of him. just like that.

it’s not that you do this often but jungkook didn’t seemed to reject your body language as soon as he holded your hips with both of his hands. somehow delicate but oh, so decisively.

that caused a whole electricity run over your entire body to the point you almost felt goosebumps if it wasn’t that already.

just.. how much did you really wanted him? seemed out of limits..

both of your palms rest on his shoulders and there’s no words but an intense eye contact full of temptation, desire.. all of the words you can imagine referencing to the same feeling you both were having right now.

what’s stopping you two? why don’t you move? why doesn’t he move? those were your thoughts until-

“it’s dangerous.” he mutters. you’re just biting your lips.

gosh, you wanted him right here, right now.

“eung” you say, but it sounded a little too sexy(horny) for jungkook’s ears and damn, did he liked that.

“eung?” but as he mimics the way you sounded (just a little more dominant) was enough for you to start moving your hips to his already increasing bulge. mm. it felt good.

you grab his neck as you move very slowly but surely as he looks at you with those dark shiny eyes slightly pulling his face towards the area where your boobs could make contact with him.

he acts fast into giving light, delicate but needy kisses through your also white crop top. the one that can mark how hard your nipples are just right.

you moan a little, more like a very hot exhale that makes jungkook go crazy internally. the way for him to expresses is to squeeze the side of your hips, right enough for you to take your shirt off.

“no bra..” he smirks. “just how I like.”

“mhmm” you slightly moan once again to acknowledge his words.

his hands immediately take a ride feeling you up from your curves, belly, ribs and finally, your boobs. his hands feeling so warm, so right as soon as he touched you. feeling like it could burn, it felt divine. it was to the point where you weren’t the only one that’s breathing so heavy but him.

kissing your nipples felt like heaven, his lip piercing somehow sort of cold made magic so you couldn’t help but take his shirt off, beanie staying on. you wanted him like that.

“I want to kiss you so bad.” breathless, you said.

“do it.” bold enough, he responds. “fuck me if you want. I’ll let you do anything tonight.”

“fuck.” you whisper. “jungkook..” hips intensifying its deep roll, still slow.

“take off your shorts. want you naked for me.”

you wanted to scream. (in many different meanings to it).

he follows you when you obey him so well, but instead of him going naked, he leaves his boxers on.

but you don’t mind, as soon as you caress the imprint of his hard dick drawing on his black Calvin Klein’s boxers. jungkook man spreads giving you the fucking gaze, while patting his well formed thighs and you’re crazy wet at this point. — as soon as you reveal his dick making a pop towards his lower stomach, you could feel yourself almost salivating for him.. and it’s something you’ll normally will feel embarrassing of, but with the way your pussy was crying for him.. yeah, a girl had to do what it gotta do.

“didn’t know how badly you wanted me..” he exhales. “guess I wasn’t the only one, fuck. come here.

pulling you and opening your legs towards him revealed how sticky you were in front of his eyes that jungkook couldn’t help but pass his dick through your entrance without dipping in yet.

“fuck..” he moans. “is this what you wanted? mm. how long were you waiting for this?” giving a little slap with his dick to your pussy. “and why didn’t you tell me earlier?” with hooded eyes, already looking like a mess.

god, was he gone and he hasn’t entered you yet.

you were almost to the point of crying with him barely starting. that’s how horny the both of you were.

“been wanting you for a while..” you’re breathing to exhale. it feels so good. “wanting to feel you just like this..”

“..raw?”

“mh-yeah.. fuck.”

he just stares at your expression for a moment, eyes closed, lips being caught up by your teeth.. pussy sliding so easily around his already wet hard dick.. it seemed so sexy the way you were moving. he wanted to eat you out when looking at you, but his need to finally be inside you was stronger.

“so do I..” he deeply answers as soon as he’s making your hips swallow his entire dick.

“agh, fffuck. it’s more of what I imagined.” he speaks more to himself.

you, on the other hand, was trying no to cum right there. breathing long and slowly to calm your pussy and feelings because somehow.. your heart started to felt as if it wanted to jump out of your body and you swear you could hear jungkook’s heart trying to do the same too.

“move.” he says, giving some gentle, little pats to your ass.

“give me a second-“ and after five seconds, you breathe and start rolling your hips back and forth. all you could hear was your juices having fun.

but the moment you lean into him and hug him with your face into the side of his neck, is we’re things start to get fun and nasty when you actually start to bounce on him.

“fuck yes.” jungkook’s voice rasp into a very hot moan. “‘knew you were good.” he pauses. “fucking lucky I am.” after grabbing your ass and start manhandling you like his personal fuck toy.

“ah-“ a moan escaping your lips, you clench your teeth sucking air to it. “s-so g-good” and it’s just that you speak along marking the secuence of how he bounces you on him.

“mm I’m feeling you close, are you?”

“y-yeah”

—in a moment where you both got to cum, having jungkook fuck you still with his cum innit because he founded so sexy the way your pussy looked so swollen and messy (and how well you take him and squeezed him) having you cum once again, things weren’t so awkward afterwards. it all ended up rather having jungkook asking you things.

“I noticed you got more wet when I started to control your bounces..”

“I.. um, I like when someone sort of.. uses me like that like..” you lower your voice, “I’m all yours?”

jungkook smiles. “oh.. y/n you aren’t getting shy right now, aren’t you?”

“no!” you feel embarrassed.

“I think you are..” he teases.

“shut up.” you roll your eyes.

“don’t worry though. as I’ve said it before things.. turned out to be this way,” you both giggle. “don’t worry. and.. y/n?”

“eung?”

“believe me when I say that this isn’t going to be the last time of us doing this. I will always want this to happen again, and it will.” he pauses. “unless you don’t want me to.”

“okay.” it’s all you say but in reality you can’t explain to him how much do you agree with this because sure, if it was hard standing by his side without doing anything ever since that night or the day you met him.. with today’s events it’ll be even harder to not want to have a taste of him once again.

and again..

and again.

and that’s when it hits you. you never kissed him, he never kissed you and you’re completely screwed.

[adrienneleclerc]

girl! I love everything you write! I have a tiny request if possible, what would you thing about wrote a scenario/reaction of Charles at a concert by his Latina girlfriend with some of the guys from the grill? Something like the first time seen her on the stage 🙈 ily

Ooh I love that!!! Like always, I’ll be using Becky G as a face claim for the header, I love you too! I am so glad you like what I write, sometimes I’m not too sure about some of the fics I post but I really am glad you like them. And his Latina girlfriend doesn’t know Charles will be there either!

Superstar

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles is dating the Latin superstar, Y/N L/N, and he finally sees her on stage.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: hope y’all like It, I believe the header look PERFECT for this, I know I always use Becky G but I fucking love her, what you gonna do?

Charles and Y/N were by far the most loved couple on the grid, their outfits were always coordinated for media day, whenever Y/N has a new song released, Charles will post about it, Y/N music videos will always have Charles somewhere in the background, something of his in the background, or as her love interest in the video, they were so supportive of each other. However, Charles has never seen her perform live, he has never been to one of her concerts at all.

Y/N was currently in the Rose Bowl Stadium, backstage, doing her makeup and doing a wardrobe check. The white cargo pants and crop top looks good, her hair was styled perfectly, and she got her phone so she could call Charles before performing. However, what she didn’t know, was that Charles was somewhere in the Rose Bowl with Carlos, Lando, Lewis, Pierre, and Oscar.

“Can’t believe we drove down here.” Pierre said, moving through the crowd. “Can’t you just wait until your girlfriend does a European tour? And why do you have roses?” Pierre asks

“I haven’t seen her in 2 weeks, this is her first full headline tour, my girl deserves her flowers. Plus, who knows if I’ll be free when she’ll have a European tour.” Charles said.

“I am excited, look many fans Y/N has.” Lando said,

“Yeah, she’s very popu…” Charles started saying but the crowd started screaming, he saw a spotlight, and that’s when he saw Y/N in her performance outfit, she was glowing, waving at the audience.

“Como están, Pasadena?!?” Y/N asked the crowd, they cheered “If you do not know who I am, my name is Y/N, and this is my first stop in my US tour! Now let’s get this concerted! I mean it’s reason why you’re all here.” The track ‘Arranca’ started playing, Y/N was dancing, singing, interacting with the crowd, Charles watched in awe and Carlos sang along,

“You know the song?” Lewis asked the Spanish man.

“It’s on my playlist, cabrón.” Carlos answered, making Lewis laugh. Charles pulled out his phone to record her. The song finished after a minute.

“Now as you guys may know, I have a boyfriend.” Y/N said and the crowd started cheering. “He’s a few years older than me, as all Latino parents, they’re a little concerned, but I told them que a mí me gustan mayores.”

The crowd went crazy as the song ‘Mayores’ began to play, the song went along as normal until the second verse. “Si él supiera que en mi mente yo solo quiero a uno, dice que en la mañana me quiere de desayuno, como él ninguno, dura más que uno de 21, él se pone para todas mis locuras, sabe que a mi me tiene segura, no quiero un Romeo, no quiero aventura, Daddy Yankee sabe que estoy dura, me resuelve siempre 24/7, pa él me quedan de más los juguetes, me da todo nuevo del paquete, difícil que con él tú te compares, mejor vete.” And everyone SCREAMED, Carlos laughed and put his hands on Charles’s shoulders, shaking him. If he knew that I only want one person on my mind, he says he wants to have me for breakfast, there’s no guy like him, he lasts longer than a 21 year old. He’s down for whatever, my ride or die, he knows I’m his, I don’t want a Romeo, I don’t want adventure, Daddy Yankee knows I’m bad, he’s ready 24/7 (like if Y/N wants sex, Charles is DOWN), there’s no need for toys when I’m with him, everything he gives me is brand new, it’s difficult if you think you can compare to him, you better leave.

“Wow, cabrón, didn’t know you had it in you.” Carlos said.

“I really gotta learn Spanish.” Charles said.

“Yes you do.” Carlos replies.

After like 28 songs, the concert finished.

“Thank you so much, Pasadena, you have been a great audience, I’ll see you next time!” Y/N said. Once the lights turned on, Charles said goodbye by to the boys.

“Hey, I’m gonna see Y/N backstage, I’ll meet you guys later.” Charles said.

“Yeah sure, we’ll be in the cars.” Pierre said.

While Charles went to one of the security guards, the boys got out of the stadium singing one of Y/N’s songs.

“Ahora tengo novio nuevo que me hace ram Pam Pam Pam Pam.” They sang.

“Don’t know Spanish, but her songs are so good!” Oscar exclaimed.

“Yes they are, we should go to more concerts actually.” Lewis said.

Charles got escorted to Y/N’s dressing room and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Y/N said and she turned around, seeing Charles holding flowers. “Muñeco!” Y/N said, getting up to hug him, Charles hugged her back hard, rubbing her back. She pulled away. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Las Vegas? Isn’t your flight back to Monaco tomorrow?”

“I came to see you, I never saw you perform before, you were amazing. The crowd loved you, Carlos was singing along, I think Lewis, Pierre, Lando, and Oscar became fans…” Charles said.

“Wait, the 6 of you drove down here to see me?” Y/N asked.

“Of course. Well, Pierre and Lewis drove the cars.” Charles admitted.

“Well I’m glad they liked the show.” Y/N said.

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charles_leclerc went to see my girlfriend perform last night and she was amazing! Couldn’t be more proud of her for her first headline tour at 21 years old. She is talented and I finally got to see her perform for the first time ever. I love you, mon coeur 😘❤️

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yourusername loved the surprise, muñeco! I love you too, I expect to see you at more concerts from now on

carlossainz55 i have your songs stuck in head now

yourusername as you should!

landonorris best concert I’ve been to in a long time, glad I went with you

oscarpiastri thank you for inviting me, dad

lewishamilton big fan of her music, Roscoe is loving it too

pierregasly i already added some of her songs to my playlist

y/n_Queen love that the grid became fans of her, so cute 🥰

user39 Charles is giving “male wife” and I love it!

user18 will we be getting more Y/N songs on the F1 playlist 😱

The End

Hope y’all liked it! It’s a little short but I think it turned out well

[skiller0dani]

Going Home | Eleven

M A S T E R L I S T Doctor Who Masterlist

smut requests info w.c | 7k summary | you go home for a quick visit, and The Doctor leaves when he promised he was going to stay.

Welcome to my secret archive! This is a personal favorite that I have written. I hope you enjoy, and just remember some of the details may not line up bc I really didn't think they would get posted, as I wrote them for myself mostly. I hope you enjoy it anyway, there are no Doctor Who fics here or on Archive it's a travesty! So I thought I'd share my little collection with you all, enjoy my loves!

BTW I listened to The Long Song by Murray Gold for this piece. Also BTW, Eleven is my favorite Doctor followed by Ten. Also (I know shut up and let them read, Danielle) I'm AMERICAN LOL and I tried my best to make this seem Authentic to England, but it still has American twists to it, I don't mean to lol my culture is all I know.

CREDIT: Found the amazing Dividers at Firefly Graphics, check them out.

“I’ll just be a minute, just want to pop in and say hi.” You smile, reaching for your handbag to sling over your shoulder. The Doctor smiles from the other side of the console, he’s used to this. Bringing Humans to live with him in the Tardis usually means occasional visits home. 

“Need me to tag along?” He asks, and you smile because you know he doesn’t really want to come. The Doctor has become hesitant in recent years to become over involved in his companions' families. You asked him why once, and he got this sad look on his face like he was remembering something. He didn’t tell you, but you knew whatever he was thinking of wasn’t good, so you didn’t ask. 

“No, that’s okay. My mum doesn’t really like you anyway,” you tease with a light smile on your face. The Doctor’s mouth drops open in offense as he makes his way around the console towards you. 

“What?! I haven’t done anything to that woman, she’s only met me one time!” The Doctor exclaims in disbelief. You chuckle as you look up at him, he’s stopped just barely a foot in front of you. You feel your heart begin to thrum unsteadily against your chest at the close proximity. You look up at him, your eyes meeting in a heated stare. 

“Oh you mean the time when you knocked on the door, promised her you’d keep me safe, and took me away with you? That time? Yeah I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t like you.” You joke, sarcasm in your voice. 

“You’re safe aren’t you? And I’m returning you, as promised.” He insists with a huff, leaning back against the console with his arms crossed. 

“Wait, you’re not leaving are you? I’m just visiting-” You begin, and the worry in your voice makes The Doctor smile. He reaches up to tenderly brush his palm against your cheek, his thumb stroking gently. 

“I’d never leave without you, promise.” His voice is soft, sincere and you believe him. 

“Okay, I’ll see you later then.” You smile, nervously leaning forward to press your lips against his cheek to give him a quick peck. Technically you and The Doctor aren’t together, and you clearly have feelings for him. You think he has feelings for you. You hope he does. Sometimes it's hard to tell with him. He has a small smile on his face as he watches you leave, flashing him another beautiful smile over your shoulder before you’re out the door. You see your parents' apartment building just ahead of you, and you’re already mentally preparing for the scolding you will receive in just a few minutes. 

You weren’t entirely fibbing when you told The Doctor your Mum doesn’t like him. She doesn’t. According to her, he’s the reason you quit your job and broke up with your fiance, who was a highly respected Attorney. In actuality you never loved Todd, he was so mind numbingly boring compared to The Doctor. You know meeting The Doctor has ruined any possibility of ever having a relationship on Earth because no man will ever have a chance of competing with The Doctor, he’s sort of it for you. Not like you’d tell him that though, or anybody for that matter. 

Nearly every star in the sky can be pinpointed back to him in some way, you wonder how dark and bleak the Universe would be if he didn’t exist. Everybody in this Universe owes their lives to him, and you’ll make sure he never forgets all the good he’s done. The Doctor tends to look at himself and see a monster, a selfish man who drags fragile Humans around with him to impress them, but you know that’s not true. Everybody needs a friend, even The Doctor...he just always seems to forget that. 

So how the hell could Todd from Barnaby and Scott Law Firm compete with someone like that? Has he ever even saved a cat from a tree? No, not worth his time, but he’d be there to represent the cat in court after the poor thing fell. You laugh softly to yourself as you trudge up the last flight of stairs before you finally reach your parents floor. You anxiously check out the window one more time, and you see the Tardis is still parked out on the lawn just where it was before. 

You’re not checking because you don’t trust him, or because you think he doesn’t want you to travel with him anymore but because The Doctor has a tendency to leave companions behind to keep them safe. He's already threatened to do it once when you wandered off and nearly got yourself killed. You don't think he actually would, he was just cross because you scared him. You approach your parents door, and hesitantly lift your hand to knock. You’re looking forward to seeing your Dad, your Mum not so much. You hear scrambling around and chairs scraping against the wood floors. The door flings open and you’re met with your 14 year old sister, Jeanie. 

“Jeans!” You exclaim joyfully, throwing your arms around your beaming sister. She hugs you back tightly, peering over your shoulder curiously. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” She mumbles against your shoulder and you feel your chest seize and your face flush. 

“Who- The Doctor?” You ask incredulously, and Jeanie simply nods. 

“He- he isn’t my boyfriend Jeans, and he’s busy.” You dismiss her question as casually as you can, hoping your voice doesn’t give anything away as you make your way into your parents' spacious apartment. Your Father, Richard Scott, is a co-owner of Barnaby and Scott Law Firm, so you lived a privileged life. It’s also why your Mum was so dead set on you marrying Todd Farlan, who was conveniently employed at Barnaby and Scott. 

“Busy! He’s always busy, he promised he’d bring me a Quadricycle!” Jeanie pouted, a look of disappointment on her face. 

“And if he isn’t your boyfriend, then he should be.” She insists. 

“Wait, what’s a Quadricycle?” You ask, disregarding her previous comment, which she doesn’t miss. 

“Don’t pretend you’re not in love with him.” Jeanie teases, a dangerous and playful glint in her eye. 

“Quit it Jeans, I am not. Oh, hi Dad.” You smile as you round the corner into the kitchen, to see your Dad sipping a cup of coffee in a pinstripe suit. 

“My Happy girl has finally come back home! How long are you planning on staying this time?” He asks, and you love the lack of contempt in his voice. 

“Not long I’m afraid, just a few hours for a visit. I missed you.” You admit, letting your Father crush you against his chest. 

“Is that fellow of yours coming? The Doctor?” He asked, his eyes glancing back at the door. You shook your head, allowing your eyes to close as Dad rubs his hand up and down your back. Being in life threatening danger on a daily basis really made you miss your family, well Jeanie and your Dad anyway. 

“No he’s…working. He says hi.” You’re only half-lying. The Doctor got a strange message on the psychic paper he’s checking the authenticity of, so he technically is working. Keys jingle in the door, and your heart instantly plummets into your stomach. It’s your Mum. 

“Now Happy, you know how your Mother is. Just ignore her and put on a brave face, yeah?” Your Dad says, placing a hand on your shoulder once he feels the tension coming from you. Jeanie gave you a smile, dashing off to her room and you almost wished you could do the same. But you didn’t, you started getting busy on the dishes. Doing something else made it easier to ignore her. You can hear the clicking of her heels as she comes down the hallway, your Mother was the Headmistress of a Secondary School, and she acted like one. 

“Oh so you decided to finally grace us with your presence, hm?” Your Mother says, her voice stern.

“Hello Mum.” Your voice is polite, fake polite. You turn to give her a smile, and you see her graying blonde hair pinned back and her glasses perched up on her beak shaped nose. Come to think of it, your Mother reminded you of a bird with a pinched up face. She scans you from head to toe, her eyes flickering over you from the tops of her narrow glasses. 

“I suppose you look thin enough, a bit worn out though. What is that Doctor doing to you anyway?” Her voice is judgemental, accusatory as she places her black handbag down. She’s wearing a suit, a pantsuit, your Mother never wore skirts. 

“Nothing Mum, he hasn’t done anything.” You say patiently, sighing a bit as you turn back to the dishes. He only saves my life practically everyday and still you say horrible things about him, you think bitterly to yourself.

“Give her a break Christine, she just got home.” Your Father says, and you could hug him all over again. Your Mother reaches into her bag, pulling out a stack of papers. 

“Yes Richard I can see that, it’s perfect timing actually.” Your Mother begins and your Father swears under his breath. 

“Christ Christine, not this shit again. I already told you those won't hold up in a court, it’s not the fucking 1800s!” Your Father snaps and you have to physically pick your jaw up, you hardly ever hear your Father swear.

“Dad, what're you talking about? What are those papers?” You ask, your anxiety spiking. 

“Your Mother here has decided to write up a contract betrothing you to Todd Farlan.” Your Father explains hotly, this is clearly something they’ve argued about before. You feel your heart seize, and cold dread washes over you. You need to go back to the Tardis now, you never should have come home. 

“What?” Your voice is small, you hate how afraid you sound. Your Father turns to face you, looking in your eyes. 

“Happy, don’t forget I’m a lawyer. I won’t let anybody do anything to you against your will.” Your Father promises and you nod, avoiding your Mothers eyes. 

“Richard let me talk to her. Alone.” Your Mother asks, tapping her heel impatiently against the kitchen tile. He doesn’t move. 

“Oh for God sakes, I just want to talk to her. She’s my daughter.” Your Mother huffs, and you want to sink into the floor. Could your Mother really marry you off to Todd without your permission? She seems to be sure it’s going to happen, was she going to do this behind your back while you were gone? You’d come back suddenly married to Todd? You feel sick when you think about all of this. You regret telling The Doctor not to come, you wish he was here. You wanted him to swoop in and rescue you like he always does. But he’s outside tinkering in the Tardis and you told him not to be worried unless night has fallen and you still haven’t come back. He needs to make you a ‘help me!’ button that you can press and alert him you need his help. Like a Doctor Life Alert. 

“It’s okay Dad. Just 5 minutes Mum.” You tell her, and you want your voice to sound stronger but it sounds so small and afraid. It’s hard for you to be brave when The Doctor isn’t around, he has this way of making you feel like you can do anything. He believes it too, even if you don’t. Your Dad leaves the kitchen, giving you an arm squeeze and a wink as he goes. You remain standing by the sink, a guarded look on your face as you cross your arms. Your Mother slides the stack of papers towards you. 

“Just read them, I think you’ll find the terms aren’t as bad as you think. You loved this man once, would marrying him really be so awful?” Your Mother is giving you this look, this I love you and only want the best for you look, but you don’t believe her. Not anymore. 

“I don’t love him anymore, and actually that sounds like a hell crafted specifically for me. I couldn’t imagine anything worse. The only thing I want in this world is to travel with The Doctor.” You say patiently, though you’re starting to losing your patience. 

“Ah, not that stupid man again! You’re traveling with someone you don’t even know Y/N! You don’t even know his name!” She exclaims, frustrated. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” You huff, you know the truth. You know that worlds would burn and the fabric of reality would split open if someone uttered The Doctor’s name at the wrong place, at the wrong time. His name is literally dangerous information, besides The Doctor suits him just fine. 

“No, and I don’t care to anymore. That’s besides the point. I have it written up in this contract that you will be allowed to continue traveling with whomever you choose at your discretion.” Your Mother explains, and all of this is raising red flags in your head. 

“That’s awfully kind, what’s the catch?” You ask, your voice flat and sarcastic. There’s a catch, there’s always a catch. 

“You have to return home to produce children, an heir so to speak for his family's prestigious name and fortune. Once you have given him a male heir, you are free to do whatever you like.” Your Mother explains, like this is all normal stuff. Like the two of you are discussing the shopping, debating wheat bread versus rye. 

“Oh my God. So if I sign this, I have to come home to have sex, squeeze out a baby and then I’m free to do what I’m already doing without all that nonsense? Sign me right up!” You snap, pushing past her to head towards the front door.

“You get security for life Y/N! Knowing you’ll be taken care of when this little phase of yours has passed. A life to come back to!” Your Mother insists as you quickly gather your things. Jeanie has slowly emerged from her room by now, watching you gather your things with sad eyes. 

“This isn't a phase! I have a life. A good life.” Is the last thing you say before you slam the door and barrel for the stairs. Tears blur your vision as you stumble down the stairs, you need to get out of here as soon as possible, you doubt you’ll ever come back. You’ll run away with The Doctor and stay gone. The Tardis is your home now anyway, you love her. You push through the doors of the complex building and look up to where the Tardis is parked only to see that she’s gone. 

“No, where did he go?” You cry, your tears coming out heavier. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. 

“No, no Doctor, where are you? I need you, you idiot!” You cry softly, your chest tightening when you realize you’ll have to go back to your parents apartment to wait for him. You know he’s coming back, he is. He wouldn’t leave you here, you know he wouldn’t. He’s going to come back and get you. He promised. 

The Tardis lands in the lawn, just where it was before and The Doctor rushes for the doors. He hopes he timed it correctly because you’ll be cross with him if he’s late. He just had a quick errand to run, which was actually picking up your favorite and rare snacks from around the galaxy. He knows visits home are difficult for you because of your Mother so he made you a little care package for when you get back. It also has bath spa stuff, and some of your favorite movies.

The Doctor won’t admit his feelings for you to even himself, he’s literally never breathed the words aloud. The feelings he has for you are a lot like the Tardis, bigger on the inside. So big they fill every corner of his mind and consume his every thought with you. Where are you? Are you safe? What are you doing? Do you miss him? Do you think about going home? The list goes on, everything he does is for you. Every time he’s fighting to protect the Universe, he’s mostly fighting to protect you. Them too, but mostly you. 

He throws the doors open and instantly both hearts have dropped to his stomach. It’s evening, and not only that but according to the newspaper- it’s evening and 4 months from when he dropped you off. He left you here, with your Mother, for 4 months. The Doctor is immediately sprinting for the stairs, you’re never going to forgive him for this. He makes it up the stairs in record time, turning for your parents door and knocking frantically. Nobody answers, so he keeps on pounding and he doesn’t care if he wakes everybody up. He knows your Mother, remembers the horrible stories you’ve told him about her, he needs to get you out of here now. 

Eventually the door opens to reveal Jeanie standing in a tank top and fuzzy pajama pants. She smiles when she sees him, her face bright. 

“Doctor!” She exclaims, throwing her arms around him. She adores him even though she’s only met him a few times. 

“Thank goodness you’re here. Are you here to get Y/N?” She asks and The Doctor looks over the top of her head into your family's apartment. The lights are on, and it looks like Jeanie is the only one home. 

“Hello Jeanette! Yes, she in?” He asks, already making his way inside the apartment. Jeanie kicks the door shut with her foot, heading back into the living room where her movie was paused. The Doctor is the only one who calls Jeanie by her full name, 'Jeanette', and surprisingly he's the only one she lets call her that.

“Wait, why did you say that? 'Thank Goodness'?” He asks, turning and bending down to look right in Jeanie’s eyes. 

“Well it’s just that my Mum has been horrible to her, wrote up this contract to marry her off.” Jeanie explains and The Doctor feels dread ball up in the pit of his stomach. Marry? As in marriage? As in you’d be marrying another man? The Doctor doesn’t say anything as he races down the hallway to your bedroom door. 

You’re sitting at your desk, your chest aching. You know he’s coming back, that’s not even a question in your mind. He’s just…late sometimes. You really have no idea how long you’ll be waiting here for him, could be a few months, could be many years. You have been ignoring your Mother and the contract. It’s laying out on your desk, you admittedly read it. If you had 3 brain cells and the talents of a half-dead gnat you’d see your Mothers point. The terms could be worse, but your life after signing this contract would be a living hell. You’d have to have sex with Todd, and the thought of ever letting him touch you again was appalling. The thought of carrying and birthing his children was even more appalling. You just wanted The Doctor here so bad, you wanted him to sweep you away back into your little dream life you shared with him. Your chest ached as hot tears stung your eyes, where is he? 

Suddenly, at that exact moment, you hear rapid and harsh knocking on your door. 

“Y/N? Open the door, it’s me. I’m so sorry I’m late sweetheart.” It’s The Doctor, you can hear the panic in his voice through the wood of your door. Your bedroom door doesn’t have a lock, so he can enter if he wants to but The Doctor has this silly rule that he’ll never enter your space without your permission. You stand, the relief fading away to anger. He left you here, for 4 months! You cross your arms, you want him to grovel a little. 

“Please, darling open the door. Let me explain.” He begs softly, not hearing anything on the other side of your door. You creep closer to your door, you can hear him breathing heavily on the other side. Your chest warms, did he sprint all the way up here from the Tardis? 

“I didn’t mean to leave you here sweetheart, I promise I didn’t. You know the Tardis, she does what she wants! I didn’t leave you here on purpose, please talk to me.” The Doctor tries again, pressing his forehead against the door. Your fingers trail lightly over the handle, you’re not ready to open the door yet. Not ready to ease his panic, not after he left you for 4 months. Hearing the pet names is helping, though you won’t tell him that. 

“Y/N, is this because you want to marry that man your Mother is trying to ship you off to?” The Doctor asks hesitantly, afraid that you’ll answer the door with a diamond engagement ring on your finger. You open the door, and the first thing you do is slap him hard across the cheek. Tears are building in your eyes, and you want to stay strong. You want to stay mad at him for what he did, but the desperation in his eyes as he looks down at you breaks your heart. When the first tear falls, The Doctor is back in your space. His thumb brushes the tear away while his arms pull you against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tenderly, one hand cradling your head against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, closing his eyes while muttering soft apologies against your hair. 

You pull back to look at him your voice thick with tears, “I don’t want to marry Todd. I’ve been waiting for you, you complete idiot.” 

The Doctor presses you firmly against him, guilt beginning to seep in. He hates that he hurt you, he hates that when you needed him he wasn’t here. He hates that he left you. You turn your head to look up at him again, The Doctor’s hand still cupping your cheek. His other hand reaches up to cup your other cheek, his eyes studying yours. You hold your breath, eyes glancing from his to his lips. Is he going to kiss you? You want him to kiss you, really bad. He pulls you closer to him, and then he does it. He can’t help it, the way your watery eyes are looking up at him tempt him to you. He presses his lips gently against yours for a soft kiss. He tries to pull back, but you curl your hands around his jacket and pull him back to you roughly. 

The Doctor’s body collides with yours, and his arms curl around your back as your lips move desperately against his. You can tell he intended for this to be a soft and sweet kiss, he’s old fashioned like that. But you’ve been waiting for this for so long, you can’t control your hands as they pull him closer to you, as close as he can get. You want to feel every inch of his body pressed against yours. But his hands press against your shoulders, pushing you back lightly. He doesn’t let you get too far though, he keeps his arms around you and your body pressed firmly against his. His eyes are wide, and there’s a cheeky grin pulling at his face. 

“Well hello.” The Doctor says softly, his forehead resting against yours. Your cheeks color, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. You hate that you’re so much shorter than him, he however revels in this fact. 

“Shall we go home?” He asks, stepping into your room to grab your handbag. He spots the contract sitting on your desk, flipped open to the 197th page, and a highlighter sitting on top. 

“Y/N, were you considering this?” He asks, both hearts nervously racing. In truth, you weren’t. You just had nothing better to do waiting for him then look over this stupid contract. However, you still wanted to make The Doctor squirm a little. 

“Maybe...how was I to know when you’d come back? You said you accidentally left Amy for 12 years. How was I supposed to know you would come back so soon!” You exclaim, loving the way he anxiously shifts from foot to foot. 

“So you were?” He asked, wounded sad eyes looking up at you. 

“He was good in bed.” You lie, he was terrible in bed and you only slept with him the one time. It was so awful you never did it again, he didn’t warm you up and finished in 30 seconds. The Doctor stiffens, a much different look in his eyes now. Something fierce and angry shines in them, and his hands begin to twitch. 

“Have you slept with him recently? Since you’ve been waiting for me?” The Doctor asked, and he knows he doesn’t really have a right to ask. He shouldn’t, it’s improper enough to make him blush, usually. Now however, he’s too angry to pay attention to how improper and forward it is. 

“What would you do if I said yes?” You asked softly, eyes peering up at him as he slowly approached you. The Doctor wrapped one arm around your body, yanking you against him. You were breathless as your hands landed on his chest, your lust blown eyes staring up at him almost dreamily. His lips were brushing against yours, you could feel his breath. 

“Has he seen you? Touched you? Recently?” The Doctor asks again, although this one sounded more like a demand than a question. He ghosts his lips over yours, and you so desperately want him to kiss you again. 

“No, no I was just trying to make you angry.” You admit wantonly, pressing yourself against him and trying to lean up on your tippy toes to connect your lips. The Doctor hums, allowing you a short but heated kiss before he pulls back again. 

“You did.” He confirms, kissing you once, twice, three times before the sound of the front door closing gets both your attention. You exit your room first, and the sight before you makes anger bubble in your chest. It’s your Mother, standing in the living room with Todd Farlan. The man you will not be marrying. He doesn't look like he wants to be here, your Mother likely made him.

“What the hell is this?” You snap, feeling a warm presence behind you. Your Mother narrows her eyes at The Doctor, especially at the close proximity between the two of you. 

“Is this why you’ve been so impertinent? Because you love this man?” Your Mother sneers, and Todd looks very uncomfortable. 

“Yes! I love The Doctor, and nothing you say or do will change that. I’m not going to marry Todd.” You snap, and you feel The Doctor gently take your hand in his. You pull him towards the door, sending your little sister a sad smile before exiting the apartment. The two of you walk back to the Tardis in silence, but your hand stays wrapped safely in his. You realize suddenly that you really do feel safe with The Doctor in all ways, you know your heart is safe with him too. He opens the door for you and your eyes water at the basket sitting on the console. It’s filled with all of your favorite things, things for a perfect relaxing day in. 

“Did you do that?” You ask, knowing there’s nobody else who could have done it. 

“It's why I was late.” He says sadly, eyes meeting yours when you move to stand right in front of him. You don’t say anything, you just wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him tenderly. Now that he’s kissed you, you don’t ever want to stop kissing him. His hands find your hips and he gives you a small smile. 

“It’s alright, I forgive you.” You say softly, and he presses his forehead against yours. 

“Doctor?” You breathe, you squirm as you feel a nervous wriggling in your belly. You can’t really believe you’re about to say this, but the aching from between your thighs is unbearable and only he can fix it. He hums, his attention on you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. 

“I…I want-” You cut yourself off, you can’t say this. You can’t. The Doctor already knows what you want, can see it in the way your fingers play absentmindedly with the button of his trousers. He really wants to hear you say it though. 

“What do you want, my love? C’mon darling, use your words.” The Doctor prods gently, and you squirm under his knowing gaze. 

“More.” You reply, your voice small and quiet. The Doctor presses a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“More what?” He asks, and you give him a look that says, you’re really going to make me say it? 

“More kissing, more touching.” You explain shyly, and The Doctor’s smile only grows. The Doctor’s hands lift you up from under your thighs, you sequel in surprise as your legs wrap around his hips. You can feel him hardening in his trousers, and you moan softly when he presses against your aching center. His arms wind around your back, pressing you close to him as his lips press to your neck. The sound makes a shiver ripple down his spine, he wants to hear you make that sound again and again and again. The Doctor isn’t paying attention to where he’s going, being far too occupied with your quiet moaning to look so the Tardis helps and materializes your room right in front of him. 

He stumbles through the door and to your bed, placing you gently onto it. He leans back and looks down at you, the stunning view in front of him not one he wants to take his eyes off anytime soon. Your loose tank top you’d been wearing for bed has slipped down, your breasts practically spilling out of it. Your pajama shorts were hiking up, revealing more and more of your thighs. The Doctor feels nearly overwhelmed with lust, he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He doesn’t want to hurt you because he’s lost himself in a lust-filled frenzy. 

“Is this alright?” The Doctor asks softly, and you nod. You look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. It warms him up from the inside out, and he leans down over you to kiss you again. He moves slowly, languidly, softly against your lips as he lays you more firmly against the mattress. He is old fashioned after all, and is it not the gentlemans job to take care of all his loves needs? The Doctor’s hands thumb the hem of your tank top, and you lean up to let him lift it off you. Your bare chest is instantly revealed to him, you were about to go to bed, you hadn’t been wearing a bra. Your cheeks color and warm. 

“Beautiful my love, absolutely beautiful.” The Doctor breathed in awe, leaning down to press his lips against your soft skin. His lips landed between your breasts and The Doctor closed his eyes, it’s been a very long time since he has even attempted to indulge this rather primal need. Not since he was with his wife on Gallifrey, and even she passed a few years before the Time War- point is: it’s been a really really long time and The Doctor is struggling to restrain himself. His lips travel across your breasts, stopping at your nipple to bite gently and pull a few soft, desperate moans from you. 

“Please don’t go anywhere.” You beg suddenly, and the desperation hiding in your tone makes The Doctor’s chest hurt. 

“I won’t my love, I’m here. I’ll take care of everything, just lay back alright?” The Doctor says lovingly, and you can only nod dumbly. He hooks his thumbs into your shorts and presses a kiss to your hip bone before pulling them down and off your feet, tossing them behind him. He feels a swell of heat rush through his entire body, and he is rock hard by now. You aren’t wearing any panties, and he can instantly see your wet cunt. He can smell your wet cunt, being a Time Lord has that effect. It’s intoxicating, and slowly driving him mad. He takes your ankles and roughly yanks you down the bed, his composure is slipping. 

“How long?” You ask, you can feel his palms shaking. Can see how lost and unfocused his eyes are. They are scanning your entire body, and he’s mouthing hotly at your neck and breasts. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, holding him firmly to you. 

“Too long.” Is what he mumbles against you, his fingers reaching up to unbutton his vest. His jacket has long since been thrown off, and his bowtie discarded in the pile somewhere as well. 

“You have so many layers.” You whine, and The Doctor smiles at the neediness in your tone. He presses your hips together then, momentarily holding onto your hips so he can grind himself against you. 

“Patience my love.” He smiles, finally shaking off his vest and shirt. Your hands are instantly exploring his smooth warm chest, touching all the skin that’s been revealed to you. He leans over you again, his lips pressing against yours. His lips move slowly against yours, and you moan softly against his mouth. The Doctor trails his hands down your stomach lightly, and along your inner thighs. You’ve parted your legs wider to make room for him, and the Doctor reaches down to release some pressure in his trousers. He unbuttons them and yanks the zipper down, releasing a sigh as some of the suffocating pressure is released. 

“More.” You beg against his lips softly, and how could The Doctor deny such a request from his love? He trails his hands up your inner thighs, and he finally parts your folds gently, feeling for your entrance. 

“Oh,” You gasp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The Doctor carefully slides 2 fingers inside you, and you moan at the sudden intrusion. 

“I’m sorry my love, was that too much?” The Doctor asks, panic seeping in that he’s done something wrong because he can’t control his impulses. But to his surprise, you shake your head quickly, your head tossed to the side and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

“No, please keep going, my love.” You beg quickly, wriggling your hips so he starts moving. The Doctor smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck as he starts to thrust his fingers into you at a slow and steady pace, he wants to take you apart lovingly, carefully, not rough and hasty. That’s not what you deserve. You moan louder, more desperately as your back arches and you press your bare chest against his.

The Doctor is having a hard time believing this is really happening.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, and you can feel your orgasm slowly building. The Doctor pulls back to look at your face, and the look on your face takes his breath away. Your head is tossed back against the pillow, your eyes closed and your mouth parted as you moan and cry out in his ear. The Doctor thinks this right here might be heaven, and he doesn’t even believe in heaven. 

“I’m going to come, oh God Doctor please please-” You’re rambling, and The Doctor keeps moving his fingers. You squeeze around him suddenly, coming and gushing around him. The Doctor groans against your neck, his cock throbbing in his trousers at the sight of you soaked and twitching from oversensitivity. After a few minutes of The Doctor pressing gentle kisses to your neck, chest and collarbones while you recovered from your orgasm, you looked up at him again. 

“More.” You said again and The Doctor smiled fondly above you, and he swears if it were possible, there would be cartoon hearts circling above his head. 

“Are you sure you can handle more my love?” The Doctor asks softly and you nod quickly. 

“Yes please, I um… I want to feel you inside me. I want to be yours.” You admit, avoiding looking in his eyes by trailing your fingers across the moles and occasional freckles across his neck and shoulders. The Doctor’s mind goes completely blank at your words, the lust overpowering everything else. Your words go straight to his cock, and he presses his lips against yours quickly. 

“You’re already mine.” He promises between kisses and you believe him. You reach your hand down, pushing at his trousers and boxers beneath. The Doctor helps you finish undressing him, and he kicks his trousers off to the side before leaning over you again. 

“Y/N, my love, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” The Doctor asks, he needs to ask. Needs to know you want this, needs to know you won’t come to your senses later and realize you made a mistake. He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Sex was not something that was casual to The Doctor, he didn’t have sex ever. Unless it was with someone he really, truly loved. 

“Yes I’m sure, please I can’t take it anymore. I want to feel you.” You beg, eliminating any fear from The Doctor’s mind of you changing your mind. The Doctor leaned back then, grasping the base of his cock with one hand while he braced himself over you with the other. He lined himself up with your entrance, dragging his tip from your entrance to your clit to warm you up. The Doctor pressed his lips against yours, he was a romantic at heart. He wanted, needed, to be close to you. He eased himself into you as soon as your lips touched, and your back rose, pressing your chest against him as you cried out sharply. 

“You’re so big oh my God-” You gasp, and The Doctor cradles you lovingly against him and he slowly works himself inside you. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, Time Lords weren’t designed to breed with Humans. There’s a bit of a size difference.” He explains, his voice strained. You’re so tight, so wet and warm, and you’re squeezing him so so tightly. Once The Doctor has his pelvis pressed flush against yours he stays still, to calm the racing of his hearts. You’re squirming against him, gasping and moaning as slick gushes out of you. The intrusion is intense, and the stretch it takes to accommodate him burns. 

“Darling, is it too much? Do you need me to stop?” The Doctor asks when he notices the pain on your face, even though the thought of stopping now seems impossible. 

“Don’t you dare.” You warn, eyes watery as you look up at him. The Doctor holds your body against his, propping himself on his forearms above you. Your legs wind around his waist, and your arms grasp at his shoulders. The Doctor kisses your forehead as he pulls his hips back, all the way back until just the tip is inside you. Then he swiftly slides back into you at a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow. You cry out desperately as he steadily thrusts into you, panting against your shoulder. The Doctor pulls his head back to watch where you two connect, the place where both of you become one. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you again and again makes The Doctor feel tingly and warm all over. 

The Doctor leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, and you moan against him as your legs begin to tremble. 

“Going to come-” You whine desperately, and The Doctor changes the angle of his hips just enough to make your toes curl and tears to slip from the corners of your eyes. The Doctor reaches one hand up to swirl at your clit, rubbing it in soft, gentle circles. The other hand cups your cheek, wiping gently at your tears.

“Come for me my love, I want to feel you.” The Doctor breathes and that’s all you need to tumble over the edge. You squeeze around him, and your nails bite into his shoulders, dragging upwards as you cry out and writhe against him. The Doctor curls his arms around your body to try and hold you still, and your eyes meet his and it’s simply erotic. 

“Keep looking at me.” The Doctor instructs and you force your eyes open so you can keep looking at him. The pleasure is overwhelming, he keeps thrusting and it keeps going, the hot pleasure washing over you. 

“Where do you want me to- God- to come my love?” The Doctor asks and you know where instantly. 

“Inside me, please please come inside me.” You beg, and The Doctor groans against you as he buries his face in your neck. The Doctor keeps pushing into you, until he presses himself as deep as he can go and you feel him coming inside you in hot spurts. The Doctor presses his forehead against yours, and you feel him softening inside you. 

“Are you alright, my love?” He asks, but you don’t respond. The Doctor pulls back instantly, his hands cradling your face. Your eyes are closed. Panic spikes hot in his chest, did he hurt you? Time Lords and Humans don’t normally have sex, was it too much for you? 

“Y/N, my love, open your eyes.” The Doctor pleads, and you slowly peek one eye open. A smile tugs at your lips when you see the worry in his eyes. 

“I’m just relaxing, you worry too much.” You tease, and The Doctor releases a shaky breath. 

“You scared me.” He says, carefully pulling himself out of your warm heat. You whine, lazily grabbing at his hips as he withdraws himself from you. 

“I have to clean you up my love.” The Doctor whispers softly, pressing kisses to your hairline as he scoops you up in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom and places you gently on the counter. The counter is cold beneath your heated skin and you jump when he puts you down. The Doctor kisses your temple before leaning down to draw your bath. After the water has started to fill the tub, he turns for the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask nervously, you don’t want him to go. The Doctor smiles fondly at you, kissing your head. 

“I’ll be right back my love, I’m going to get all that fancy bath stuff I got you.” The Doctor kisses you and then retreats from the bathroom. You smile to yourself, feeling happiness overwhelming you before you slide into the warm bath water. 

[luvingspence]

jealousy | s.r

hey guys and gals! someone dm’d me and asked for my ops on spencer handling jealousy :) i haven’t wrote fan fics in a while but i have no problem writing stuff like this atm! i honestly just need good ideas for fan fics to get back into my groove so please if you have any ideas for stuff you’d like to see me write (no smut) go ahead and send me an ask <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

♡ baby spence

♡ poor baby spence would hide his jealousy :(

♡ i feel that he would be too scared of the conflict that could arise from confronting you about what you or someone else did to cause his jealousy.

♡ ESPECIALLY if you weren’t in an exclusive relationship, in his mind it wouldn’t be his place to say anything :(

♡ he would become avoidant and visibly insecure

♡ “oh, no i’m okay :)(“

♡ derek would eventually get it out of him though, as he always does!

♡ when you finally find out he would be SO apologetic even though it literally isn’t his fault😭

♡ but everything would be okay the end and you guys would kiss and make up <3 and with hard-work and communication you guys both do everything to make sure this doesn’t happen again!

♡ post-revelations spence (dilaudid addicted spencer)

♡ technically still baby spence but not. he feels so much anger, confusion and guilt during this stage of his life with everything that happened with elle and gideon and now, his addiction.

♡ for the first time in his life, he reacts with anger, as we saw with emily.

♡ he’ll become snarky, and passive aggressive without ever telling you what’s made him like that in the first place.

♡ “obviously i’m fine, can’t you tell?”

♡ it will take you a lot of pushing, and a lot of little spats to actually get the cause of his upset and anger out of him

♡ but, when you get it out of him, some yelling and crying ensues. even if your interaction with whoever it was that caused him to be jealous was entirely innocent, he’ll be in denial at first but ultimately, you apologise for making him upset unknowingly and he apologises for his reaction to the situation.

♡ i imagine you’d spend the rest of the night on his comfy little sofa in his green apartment and watch a little movie with some chinese takeout, cuddling and laughing and gossiping snd whispering sweet nothings to each other.

♡ s5-9 spence

♡ he’s older, more mature, but also less scared of confrontation. i imagine he would walk up to you and whoever it is making him jealous and insert himself in the conversation literally just to be petty😭

♡ if you’re exclusive at this point an arm is 100% getting wrapped around your waist and he’s going to bring up some date night plans.

♡ “hey, we’re still going to dinner after this right? or do you just wanna stay in tonight, sweetheart? :))))))”

♡ you’re SO confused because he doesn’t really do that like, ever? and ESPECIALLY at work so you’re even more like?????

♡ when you ask he’s just like “just thought i’d see what you guys were talking about!!!😁”

♡ although, he will eventually admit himself that he was a tad jealous BUT! that he had reason to be! that guy was all over you! (even if he actually wasn’t)

♡ you guys talk it out a bit, but it’s mostly just jokes and you teasing him for getting jealous and you definitely still go out for dinner that night :)

♡ older spence (Pre-Prison)

♡ honestly, he is significantly more secure. i think a lot of people feel that spence is perpetually insecure simply because he’s awkward, but at this point in time, he KNOWS people find him attractive.

♡ awkwardness≠insecure

♡ he absolutely wouldn’t be happy that someone was flirting with you, but he isn’t going to make a scene or grow angry.

♡ he trusts you to put a stop to it with yourself

♡ and when you do (because obviously you would, why would you want some rando when you currently have the good doctor?), a proud, cheeky little smile makes its way onto his face.

♡ in all honesty, i believe he’d even make a joke or two.

♡ “oh, what about your other boyfriend?” he’d say with a little snort

♡ you’re both very secure and trusting in this relationship so there’s no need to kiss and make up afterwards, because there was never a problem in the first place!

♡ this spence would only ever grow upset if whoever it was was very obviously making you feel uncomfortable!

♡ THEN he would go crazy. as in just a tad annoyed and worried for you. he’d approach, again not causing a scene, and make an excuse to allow you both to exit the situation!

♡ post prison spence

♡ after everything, he’s insecure again.

♡ not about you, he still trusts you of course, but he feels insecure in the sense that he feels unsafe

♡ that he could lose everything in the blink of an eye, and no one would be there to bail him out this time.

♡ therapy is helping him but only so much.

♡ i feel that he would feel a mixture of anger and sadness.

♡ sadness because someone is trying to take you from him, and anger because he can’t believe someone would even TRY to take you away from him.

♡ thankfully, with age and his therapist, he knows to communicate this. so he doesn’t hide it, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him.

♡ he requires comfort, a distraction.

♡ just be with him :)

[dokries]

my boo

pairing: boo seungkwan x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: ~1.1k (with bonus)

warnings: seungkwan being embarrassing in public, going to the beach/sea, mentions of food in the bonus

author note: hi i know it’s may but. here’s a first snow seungkwan fic? i wrote this and originally posted it in early december so…basically, i don’t want to keep this in the drafts until then HAHA once again, this is a repost! if you think you’ve seen it, you probably have :D (it is still my work though of course)

masterlist

“IT’S SNOWING!” you hear seungkwan’s voice right before you get tackled by him on the couch, his limbs trapping you underneath him.

you giggle at his excited expression before looking over his shoulder, seeing the white flakes fall outside through the window. “you’re right, it is. the weather report said there was a 80% chance of snow today.”

he gets up, untangling your bodies before pouting at your cool demeanour. “you’re not excited. why are you not excited?”

you shrug before getting up, groaning from the use of your legs after the time you had spent sitting down. “i mean, it’s not like it doesn’t snow every winter.”

seungkwan gasps before putting a hand to his chest, offended. “are you telling me that your first winter with me isn’t important? we haven’t even had a date in the snow yet! or—or literally anything wintery! i can’t believe this. why do i even love you?” he finishes ranting with a huff, turning his body away from you.

you roll your eyes fondly at your tangerine boy before pulling his hand towards you, urging him to look at your face.

“it’s nothing like that kwannie, i promise,” you say before grinning widely. “and you love me because of my amazing sense of humour and just because i’m great, of course.”

he sighs and gives you a fake annoyed expression before smiling mischievously. “so this means you’ll let me take you to the beach so we can have a photoshoot right? yeah,” he says, pulling your arm to the entryway, giving you no choice but to put up with his antics. (you would anyway; it’s him after all.)

“wait…in this?” you look down at your silly moose pyjamas, and at seungkwan’s matching ones before shaking your head. you knew seungkwan didn’t care—he loved to be open about your relationship, and these pyjamas definitely helped that. besides, it’s winter! you would be wearing a jacket on top anyway.

you let seungkwan put your coat on you (not without a little peck on your forehead to let you know he wasn’t actually mad; you knew he never was when he acted like this) and your socks when you struggle before putting on his own winter gear and opening the door. he lets out a low breath before taking your hand and putting it in his pocket, both your hand—and hearts—warm together.

…

in the car, you clap every time after seungkwan finishes belting out a christmas song from a playlist you had found (how he managed to focus on driving while doing this, you had no idea) and when he parks in the small lot the beach has, you grin, fully excited for your little date.

after your hands reunite in his coat pocket, he takes you to your favourite spot whenever you both went to the beach; a place not too close to the water where you had to worry about getting wet, but also one where you could still see the serene beauty of the ocean clearly.

as you take your phone out of your pocket to take pictures of the icy sea, you hear the sounds of seungkwan’s phone clicking in your direction. when you turn to look at him with a question on your face, he shrugs before saying, “just making sure i take pictures of the best view around here.”

soon enough, your photo taking session comes to an end, and you walk back to your parked car, laughing at a silly picture you took of seungkwan. he takes a look around before running over to a small field nearby covered in fresh snow, before slipping and falling.

“seungkwan?? you okay, honey?” you ask as you run over to his side before your worried expression turns into a deadpan, seeing his pose. he was on his side with his elbow propping up his head, and before you can say anything about how silly he looks, he wiggles his eyebrows. “that was a perfect reenactment of how i fell for you, my pookie dookie snookie pookums.”

before you can shush him and remind him that you’re in public, you hear a loud gasp and a little girl’s voice say, “mommy, look! they’re flirting!” from behind you.

you turn your eyes back to the trail you were walking on with your boyfriend just a few minutes ago, and see a mother cover her young daughter’s eyes from seungkwan’s antics before hurriedly walking away from the scene you two were making.

thankfully, as soon as they leave, there’s no one to see the way you crouch down and smack seungkwan’s shoulder. “what was that for, kwannie?!”

he pouts before sticking out his tongue at you and pulling you down onto the snow beside him. “i was just showing my love for you, my sweetheart plum sugar with two eggs five cups of flour—”

you shut him up with a small peck to his cheek before shooting his lovestruck face a dirty look. “that’s enough out of you now. i’m telling your mother that you embarrass me in public,” you huff, fully knowing that seungkwan’s mother simply adored you.

you giggle when seungkwan makes a sound of indignation and instead peck his cheek again. “fine, fine, i won’t. but…you have to stop using those corny pet names.”

he huffs before sighing dramatically.

“fine. i’ll stop, my five large egg yolks, one and one third cups water…okay i’ll stop,” he finishes off, seeing your face before leaning in to peck your cheek, making you giggle and him smile. “there’s my boo.”

bonus!

in the car, you remember to ask seungkwan something. “what were you even saying? my 2 cups of sugar…was that even an actual recipe?”

he looks at you while fixing his rearview mirror. “yeah, it’s from a recipe for lemon meringue pie.” his neck flushes a bit as he continues, “i was planning to make it for you one day…so it was the first thing i thought of.”

the next day, you wake up to the smell of something burning. you quickly get up and sprint to the kitchen, only to see seungkwan putting something in the trash sheepishly. “…i burnt the pie.”

though it takes a while to get the smell out of your home, and the window needs to be open in the cold weather, you have an excuse to cuddle up with seungkwan in your warmest blanket. (he would anytime you asked anyway; no need for burnt baked goods).

[demonsslayersstuff]

First Time (Nanami x Reader)

Description: A little fic about your first time having sex with Nanami. (Note: I wrote a bit of basic story background before getting into the smut. Reader is close friends with Shoko and Gojo)

Warnings: Fluff and of course smut. Oral, p in v sex. No use of a condom, but reader is on a form of birth control. (Safe sex is the best sex)

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing for Nanami, I plan on doing more in the future. I think my next work will be from my AOT project list. Enjoy!

“Damn. You’re telling me you’ve been dating blondie for a whole ass two months and you guys still haven’t done it”, Gojo says, turning to look at you as he laid on Shoko’s makeshift hospital bed in her lab. “Give her a break, we all can’t be little sluts like you”, Shoko tells him from her desk as she shuffles through the paperwork piled on her desk.

The three of you were hanging out after a long day work in Shoko’s lab, too tired to go out for the evening. At first, you’d been ranting about work, but as that conversation lulled, your relationship became the new main point of the conversation. “Hey, I’m not that much of a slut. I’m too busy cleaning up after everyone’s messes to have time for that”, Gojo grumbled before moving to sit up right. “I want to take things slow”, you tell them from your own place of rest across from Shoko in a worn, but comfy chair. “And that’s completely fine”, she replies, giving a pointed look at Gojo, before her attention falls back to her paperwork. He sticks his tongue out in response. “But I want to take things to the next level…I just don’t know how”, you say, looking up between the two of them.

“Ooo, ready to get hot and steamy with Nanami?”, Gojo asks while wagging his eyebrows. “If you ever do that again I will punch you”, you say with disgust. Shoko looks up from her papers, eyeing you carefully for a minute. “Have you told him this?”, she asks you. Your cheeks burn red from embarrassment, “No..”, you mumble. “Well, that would be a good place to start”, Shoko says. “But I don’t know how”, you whine, throwing your head back with a huff. “Eh, just tell him something like these past two months of dating have been great, but I’m ready to take it to the next level”, Gojo pipes up from his side of the room. Both you and Shoko turn to look at him with shocked expressions. “What?”, he exclaims. “That was actually really good advice”, you admit while Shoko chimes in with a, “What the hell happened to the real Satoru Gojo?”. “Har har”, he responds. “I can occasionally give good pieces of advice”, he continues. You giggle as Shoko grunts in reply. “Back to the main point, you just gotta tell him Y/N”, Gojo says before he scoots off the bed, walking over towards you and Shoko.

“I know, I know”, you murmur. The conversation is interrupted when you hear a buzz and watch as Gojo sighs before picking up his phone. The call doesn’t last long, “Well ladies this was fun but, duty calls”, he says after hanging up the phone. “Who was it this time?”, Shoko asks. “Apparently Yuta and Inumaki ran into higher grade curse than they believed there to be”, Gojo replies, frustration evident in his tone. “Are they ok?”, you ask with worry. “They’re fine, they handled it on their own, but I need to go and make sure everything is ok”, he tells you. “Need help?”, you ask. “Nope, I can handle this. Besides Nanami should be back soon from his own mission, go be with him”, Gojo tells you with a wink. “Call me if you need help”, you tell him as he heads for the door. He pauses briefly, turning to look back at you and Shoko. “The next time we have this little get together, I better be hearing about someone taking the next step”, he calls with a laugh and disappears before the water bottle you threw at him reaches his spot, hitting the door with a thud. Shoko just laughs before rolling her eyes.

It’s not long after that, that you find yourself walking the fairly quiet hallways of the school, most everyone in their respective dorms or homes for the evening. You’d left Shoko knowing that the two students would be arriving any minute per the message she’d received from Gojo. You glance at your own phone, waiting to see when Nanami would text that he was back from his mission. You pause, turning to look out the window, eyes watching the setting sun. It was a beautiful sight to see; the former blue sky turning into shades of golden reds and oranges. It wouldn’t be much longer until the sky would darken further. Unbeknownst to you, the man you were just thinking about watches you from down the hall. Nanami hadn’t texted you that he was back from his mission, preferring to seek you out in person.

He walked slowly towards you, slipping his arms around your waist when he reached you, knowing that no students wouldn’t be walking down the hall at this hour. “Mmm Ken?”, you softly question as his face comes to rest against yours, his grip tightening, holding you close. “Hey”, he calls out, voice barely above a whisper. “How was the mission?”, you ask, leaning your head back to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Not bad, the curse was exorcised and no one got hurt”, Nanami answers before turning you around to face him. He studies your face for a moment, his eyes carefully looking at yours. “What’s up?”, he questions. “Nothing”, you respond, slightly confused. “Darling I can see it your eyes, there’s something you wanna talk about”, Nanami presses on. You sigh, it was hard to keep things from him. He had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book. “Let’s talk somewhere a little more private”, you suggest, eyes peering down the hall to make sure no was around to listen in. “Of course, is something wrong?”, Nanami asks, slight worry in his tone. “No, no”, you immediately start, making an effort to keep the conversation calm. “But it’s something that I want to discuss between just the two of us”, you continue with a smile, though your inner monologue was going through nothing short of a near panic attack with what you actually wanted to tell him. “Very well, let’s head out, we can talk in my car”, Nanami tells you. You nod your head as he takes your hand, leading you out.

It’s a short walk to the car. Once you’re seated you take a steadying breath, willing yourself to act like mature adult as Nanami slides into the drivers seat. “What’s wrong darling, you’re worrying me”, he begins, turning to look at you with his honey golden eyes. “Ken, I’ve really enjoyed the past two months of our relationship, but…I’m ready to take things to the next step”, you say, your heart beating erratically as you look towards him. You watch as his eyes widen in shock before he clears his throat. “Take things to the next step?”, he questions carefully, not wanting to get his own hopes up. He’d been ready a long time ago, but he was waiting for the right time, waiting for you to be ready. “Yes, I want to…”, you start, taking another calming breath before continuing. “I want to have sex with you, if that’s what you want”, you finish, voice meek. “Ahhh”, Nanami replies, letting your words wash over him. “Are you absolutely sure you are ready for that?”, he asks you, wanting to be doubly sure that you were ready. “Yes”, you say more confidently. You were ready. You felt secure in the relationship, you knew it was time. Nanami smiles at your response. “Then, if you’re up for it, how you spend the night at my place?”, he asks you.

You felt a tug in your stomach at his words, the implications behind his question were as clear as day. If you spent the night, you knew what would happen. You reach out and grasp his hand lightly, squeezing it for a moment. “I’d really like that”, you tell him honestly. He leans over to give you a soft peck. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, I promise”, he whispers, his voice causing goosebumps to erupt across your body. “Ok”, you sigh, before Nanami settles back into his seat before starting the car, ready to take you home.

Before you know it you find yourself looking at yourself in a mirror. Nanami had left you to use his private bathroom to clean up form work while he went to use his guest bathroom. He was giving you some much needed space. As you continue to look at yourself in the mirror you internally curse yourself. Why couldn’t I have been more bold? More risk taking?, you think. You so desperately wanted this, but at the same time you were worried. What if you weren’t good enough, what if he didn’t like it. “Are you ok?”, Nanami questions on the other side of the door, apparently he’d finished cleaning up. “Yes”, you answer a bit shaky, and you internally cringe. After a quick splash of water on your face, you open the door, eyes greeting Nanami’s. Your jaw nearly hit the floor as you take in his figure. You’d seen your boyfriend shirtless many times, but today he looked delectable.

His usually well kept blond hair laid a bit more messily across his forehead. He was clad only on a pair a dark sweatpants that hugged his waist just right, low enough to show the v lines, leaving the rest to your imagination. You gulped back your words as your eyes move up to his chest. Years of being training and working as a Jujustu sorcerer did wonders for his body. To you he looked like a marble statue, flawlessly sculpted and chiseled to perfection. Any coherent thought leaves your brain as your eyes continue to rake over his body, and though you were still nervous, you felt a heat beginning to pool in your lower belly. “You know we don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready”, Nanami tells you as he watches you carefully. He notes the slight worry in your eyes, but also sees the warmth in your cheeks. He knew you were flustered just looking at him. You step closer towards him, leaving barely any space between your bodies, your chests almost touching. With the way Nanami looked in this moment, you were not about to turn this down. “I want this Kento. Please I want you”, you whisper, eyes locking with his, your desire for him evident in your voice.

He closes the distance swiftly, lips brushing against yours, hands cupping your face gently, taking the time to simply kiss you sweetly. After a moment he pulls away slightly, “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable”, Nanami murmurs before pulling you into his bedroom, the door being swiftly shut. His lips capture yours again quickly as you find yourself pushed up against the door, the sweetness of the earlier kiss being replaced with heated desire. Nanami’s hands play with the hem of your shirt as the kiss deepens, your fingers roaming through his blond hair. You lean your head back against the door, allowing Nanami’s lip to attach to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt. You moan softly when his hands cup your breasts hesitantly, testing the waters. “It’s ok Ken, I want this”, you whine as his fingers play with your nipples, while he continues to assault your neck. He stops momentarily, hands gripping your shirt before it’s swiftly pulled off your body. The cool air hits your skin, nipples pebbling as you gasp inaudibly. “Beautiful”, he murmurs before he takes a good look at your body, trying to burn this imagine into his mind permanently.

“Bed”, he commands, before you’re moved from the door to his soft bed. Your back barely hits the mattress when his lips attach to your breasts suckling each one, the sensation earning a soft sigh. His other hand moves slowly down your stomach until it reaches the waistline of your pants. “Please Ken”, you whimper, your worries long gone, all you wanted was for him to touch you anywhere and everywhere. “I’ve got you”, he says, voice hooded before taking your other breast in his mouth. His tongue swirling over your nipple. Your back arches when you feel his hand slip into your underwear, fingers finding your entrance with ease. His middle finger softly moves in a circle motion on your clit as your hips buckle involuntarily. “Ken”, you huff as he teases you for a second, before he slips his digit inside of you. Your damp walls suck him in greedily. “Damn baby, you’re already fairly wet”, he tells you as his finger slides in and out of you for a few seconds. Nanami pulls his hand away and you almost cry from the loss of pleasure. “Hang on love”, he says before yanking the remainder of your clothes away.

“Wait, what are you doing?”, you ask watching Nanami's hands grip your knees before throwing them over his shoulder, his hot breath falling against your glistening pussy. “What does it look like love? I wanna taste you”, he responds, eyes locking with yours for a moment before his eyes fall between your legs, pointedly looking a your own arousal that he could see seeping out of your entrance. You open your mouth to speak, but your words die as he edges forward for a moment, his tongue swiping across your pussy, eliciting a shocked moan. “Spread them open pretty girl, let me eat you”, Nanami commands. You’re shocked at how quickly you respond to his words, relaxing your hips as he places a quick kiss to your thigh. “Good girl”, he mumbles before you feel him in back in the place that you’d only imagined in your fantasies. Your head falls back and you lift your hips up slightly as you feel his tongue inside you, licking and slurping up your juices. A strangled moan escapes from the back of your throat and your fingers thread through his golden locks, pulling them slightly. You almost want to die from embarrassment at the lewd noises that fall across the room, but the pleasure you feel when Nanami rubs his finger against your clit makes your brain turn to mush.

You know with the way his tongue was stroking your inner walls that you weren’t gonna last long, heat pooling in your lower abdomen. “I’m so, ngh..Ken I’m so fuck..close”, you heave out as he continues to eat you out like you were his last meal on Earth. With a few more flicks of his tongue you come, flashes of white erupting across your vision as you cry out his name over and over. It’s only when your hips finally stop stuttering that he pulls away, taking a moment to enjoy the mess he’d created, your cum staining the navy blue comforter, not that he cared. He moves up your body, gentle kisses placed along your hip, stomach, breasts, and neck before he kisses you on the mouth. You taste yourself for a moment when your tongues intertwine before he pulls away with a triumphant sigh.

“You ok?”, he questions softly. “More than ok, I just needed to catch my breath”, you respond, pulling him in for another sweet kiss. When his waist makes contact with your thighs, you feel his harden member. You break the kiss, determined to make him feel the same way he’d made you feel. “Pants off”, you tell him, switching your positions, letting him lay back on the mattress as you settle between his legs. With his pants now long gone, you feel a surge of worry shoot through for a second, while not super long, Nanami was quite girthy. As you wrap your hand around his dick, giving it a few experiment thrusts you had distinct feeling that tomorrow you would not be walking out of his apartment properly. You hear a hiss of pleasure coming from him as you thumb softly swipes across his slit, his precum wetting your fingers. "My turn to take care of you", you tell him before spitting on his member, your hand picking up its pace. As Nanami turns into puddy you lean down, licking the length of his dick, your tongue swirling on his tip before you fully take him in your mouth. Nanami nearly blows his load as he peers down at you, your head bobbing up and down, cheeks flushed and hair messy as you try to take him as deep as you could in your mouth. Nanami's hips buck up as you fondle his balls, grunting as he slowly loses control. "God you take me so well". he groans. Once you add your hand to help create more friction, Nanami knew he was a goner.

"Love, I'm gonna..fuck, I'm gonna cum soon, where can I-", he starts but the words die in his throat as you take him deeper and before he can contain himself he spills his seed into your mouth, his cum shooting into the back of your throat. While not your favorite taste, there was something imitate in this moment as you swallowed, before his dick slipped out with a pop. You shimmy up his body, his arms pulling you closer as you place delicate kisses on his jaw. "I'm sorry love I didn't mean to do that", Nanami tells you after you kiss him softly. "It's ok Ken, I wanted it, I promise", you respond. The two of you relish in the peaceful atmosphere for while, allowing Nanami to come back down from his high. "You want to keep going?", he questions after a few minuets of silence. "Yes", you tell him honestly. Nanami smiles before his fingers slip inside of your pussy, pleased to know you were fairly wet. "Let me get a condom", he says, moving to sit up. "Wait, you don't need to", you tell him hastily. Nanami turns to look at you, choosing his words carefully. "Darling, we are not ready for kids and as we just witnessed, I'm not sure I'll pull out in time", he tells you. "I know, that's why I got an IUD", you say, cheeks flushed. "You did?", he asks, unable to contain his surprise. “Yes, I mean if you’d rather use a condom that’s fine, but I wanna feel you…all of you”, you tell him, eyes downcast from the sudden shyness you were feeling.

Nanami sits back down on the bed, fingers moving to lift up your face. “I want to make you feel comfortable and good, so if this is what you want to do, I’m ok with it”, he says softly. You nod your head at his words and allow him to lay you back down on the bed as he moves to hover over your body. He grabs your thighs, moving your legs to wrap around his waist. You watch him stroke himself a few times before he lines his thick cock up to your entrance. Your breath hitches as he coats himself with your juices. “Tell me if it hurts, I’ll stop love”, Nanami tells you, looking at you, eyes catching yours. “I’m ready Ken”, you say quietly. He gives your hips a reassuring squeeze before he pushes in slowly. You gasp loudly as his cock stretches you, pain mixed with the pleasure. Nanami gives a few shallow thrusts before he sinks deeper inside your slick walls. You move to wrap your arms around his neck as he bottoms out, his balls firmly planted on the lower part of your ass. “Fuck you feel amazing”, he mumbles, words slightly choked. It was hard for you to speak, Nanami filled you up in a way you’ve never experienced before. So instead you lean up and kiss him sloppily; teeth gnashing together, spit intermixing. But it felt so amazing, for the first time your bodies were together, you never wanted the moment to end.

Nanami gives an experimental thrust; sliding all the way out before pushing back inside of you, the sensation earning him a cry of pleasure as you break away from the kiss. “God please don’t stop”, you mewl, fingers nails raking across his back. Using one hand, he lifts your hips slightly, hitting you in a deeper spot as the other hand wraps around your throat possessively, but not squeezing you. You can’t contain the moans that fall from your lips as he continues to pound into you, picking up the pace, his cock practically hitting your cervix with each thrust. “Look at me”, he calls out gruffly, forcing your eyes to snap open. Nanami was a beautiful sight to behold; his hair falling against his forehead in a sweaty mess, his breath falling out in heavy puffs, eyes glazed from the pleasure. He’d never looked so good before. You reach out, cupping his face for a second, eyes holding each other in a very vulnerable, very intimate moment. Words not needed to be spoken as he leans down, kissing you deeply. It’s takes about three more thrusts before you’re unable to hold back your orgasm, your walls clenching around his cock, your moans being swallowed in the kiss. Nanami doesn’t last much longer, he feels the tug in his lower abdomen before he shoves his face into your neck, his thick white cum painting the interior of your slick walls.

You sigh with pleasure as his seed continues to shoot inside of you, making you feel full, almost sated. Nanami’s hips rock into yours for a couple more seconds before he groans; he pulls you to him as he flips onto his back, not wanting to crush you with his weight. Neither of you speak for a long time. His cock stays buried deep within you as you lay your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his erratic heartbeat calming down. Once he’s returned back to reality, Nanami leans down and kisses the top of your head. “You ok?”, he questions quietly, fingers gently running through your hair. “Mmm, feel s’good Ken”, you murmur. “I’m gonna pull out now ok”, he tells you. You nod your head, face scrunching slightly as he slips out of you, his cum beginning to seep out of you and onto to the bed. As much as he wants to stuff it back inside of you, Nanami knows it’s not the time for that. “Let’s clean up and sleep”, he calls to you, already seeing your snoozing face. He gently pinches your hip, forcing you awake. “Come on love”, he calls sweetly.

A little while later the two of you are back in bed, clad in clean clothes and in fresh sheets. You grab your phone sending a quick message to your group chat with your friends before turning it back off, preferring to deal with the deluge of text messages in the morning. “Night love”, Nanami says as you snuggle into his embrace, sleep finding you very quickly that night.

[lewkwoodnco]

i have an imagine request!

Lockwood has a particularly bad panic attack during an investigation and reader helps him to get through it.

panic attack - anthony lockwood x reader

“Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought. Quick,” she said, shoving her hand in his face, “how many fingers?”

He rolled his eyes and pulled her fingers out of the way. She tried not to focus on how gently he wrapped his hand around hers.

“I thought you liked my ugly mug. No, wait - you like my coat. And how it flaps behind me when I run. You think it’s cool.”

“No, you think it’s cool.”

He creased his forehead comically. “No, no, I distinctly remember us discussing my coat and how cool it was. I got us coffee right after, remember?”

“Delusional. Add that to your list of symptoms.”

a/n: I know, I know, what a creative title. I really have outdone myself haven’t I (/s) this can be read as a stand-alone fic but I wrote it as a sequel (ish?) to my you are in love fic, so there's some references back to that one! sorry this took so long and enjoyyyy

tropes/warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, self-loathing, angst, only a little bit of fluff at the end

wc: 1.9k!

you are in love fic | MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

Winkman was glaring at her, clearly saying something she couldn’t hear over the blood roaring in her ears. She had no idea what she was doing. Dousing them in gasoline had been a split-second decision, and now that she had done it, she wasn’t sure what to do next. Surely she couldn’t actually want to set them on fire, could she? They had a child, for crying out loud. A very creepy, undoubtedly messed-up child, but he was still just a kid. Was she really going to orphan him?

He took a step towards Lockwood, and her survival instincts kicked in. She flicked the lighter on, looking more sure of herself than he felt.

“Don’t you dare.” She stepped closer. She needed Winkman like a rat in a corner. “Touch him, and I’ll burn your decrepit little house of horrors to the ground with you, your wife and your freak of a son.”

He watched the flame, weighing his choices before he retreated reluctantly. She felt giddy with power. She clumsily crept over to Lockwood’s chair and started fiddling with the leather straps. Her hand brushed against his - cold as ice. Once the straps were undone, she waited, but Lockwood remained seated, seemingly transfixed on Winkman.

“Lockwood,” she hissed in his ear, one eye still on Winkman. “Come on. Forget Winkman, let’s go.”

Winkman’s mouth curled into an unpleasant, thin-lipped smile.

“You know I’m right, boy.”

“You shut up.” She waved the lighter menacingly in his direction and he scowled. Her palms were suddenly feeling clammy. What did Winkman mean? She hadn’t been paying attention. What was he supposedly right about, and why did Lockwood look like he believed him?

Once Lockwood was out of his chair, she wrapped a hand around his wrist, gently pulling him along as they backed out of the warehouse. Luckily, whatever spell he had been under seemed to have broken. From what she could tell from the few glances she dared to pull her eyes away from Winkman, save for a few scratches and cuts, Lockwood was mostly undamaged.

“- this is the last time I go along with any of your ridiculous schemes, Lockwood. For God’s sake, we could have d- Lockwood?”

Only Lockwood wasn’t beside her anymore. Once they had exited the warehouse, they had taken off running into the dead of the night. She spun around to see him slumped against a wall a few feet behind her, clawing at his throat.

“Lockwood?” She walked over, warily eyeing his every twitch and death-rattle gasp of air. “What’s - you alright?”

He didn’t seem to have heard her. One of his hands dropped to his chest, directly above his heart, while he dragged the other down the brick wall roughly enough to make her wince. She stepped closer, watching every fibre of his being flicker with nervous energy.

“Can’t - breathe,” he finally choked out.

“Did Winkman give you something?”

With some difficulty, Lockwood shook his head. Everything seemed to take a second or two for him to process through whatever fog was in his head. His flinching was oddly reminiscent of something, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Then wha…” Oh. Oh. A panic attack. As his fingers scrabbled uselessly at the knot of his tie, it became more and more clear. She was watching Anthony Lockwood have a panic attack.

“Lockwood…listen to me. The world isn’t ending. Just breathe.”

“I’m trying!” He coughed a little as he forced the words out.

“For the love of -“ she yanked him closer and smacked him across the face. The rambling stopped, and so did the restless wandering, and the look in his eyes told her he could actually recognise her now.

“Hey! Enough! Snap out of it.” She distractedly brushed a hand over her eyes. Tears. “This is all in your head.”

“No. You heard him. Don’t you see, Y/N? It doesn’t matter what I do, or how hard I try. I’m always going to be a burden and I’m always going to weigh you down.”

She thought she felt her heart break a little. It was all she could do to keep herself from breaking down too. “Lockwood, that’s not true.”

“Like hell it isn’t!” That last outburst seemed to sap away what little of his energy was left. He slid down the wall as he struggled to catch his breath, head between his knees.

“Why didn’t you let him kill me?”

Because I wouldn’t have been able to bear it. Because I would be stupidly empty without you. Because you keep this god-awful picture in your desk of me fighting a broken nose and I’m too much of a coward to accept the only possible explanation. Because I love you.

“Think of it this way. You wouldn’t have let him kill me no matter how much I begged, right?”

“No.”

“And why not?”

He pulled his head out of his knees and gave a humourless laugh. She didn’t see anything all that funny herself.

“Why not? You…you’re like the sun.”

She cleared her throat awkwardly. It was the adrenaline, she told herself. Plus the panic attack. He didn’t know what he was saying.

“You’re my best friend, Lockwood. Do you really think I’d appreciate someone killing my best friend? Huh?”

He managed a small flicker of a smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. It was getting late. She turned and walked down the road until she found a cab to flag down, before running back.

“Come on,” she said as she breathlessly dragged Lockwood up. She stumbled under his weight as she steered them both towards the waiting cab, already trying to forget what she had just seen. The cabby took in their gear and Lockwood’s wan face, and shot her a sympathetic look. She looked away.

The whole drive home, Lockwood either dozed or stared into space with this vacant look in his eyes. She had never seen him look this lost.

It made her want to cry.

Back at Portland Row, she sat him down at the kitchen table and pulled out their first aid kit. George was passed out on the couch in the living room, and he looked so exhausted it seemed cruel to wake him. Bit by bit, she tenderly dressed Lockwood’s scrapes.

“I just -“ Lockwood started, then grimaced. “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.”

“Well, you head an agency that makes the world a safer place, one Visitor at a time. As far as life purposes go, it’s not half-bad.”

“Do you think,” Lockwood asked in a quiet, somewhat strangled voice, “do you think he really knew my parents?”

She scoffed half-heartedly, trying to ignore the troubled look in his eyes. “Of course not. He was just trying to get under your skin.” Lockwood winced as she pressed a damp cloth to a nasty scrape on his forehead. “Don’t tell me it’s working.”

“I’m not asking why he said it. I’m asking if you believe him.”

The denial sat ready at the top of her tongue, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to follow through with it. She wanted to wave away his worries, roll her eyes at the very thought of any of it being remotely true, but she couldn’t lie to him. Not when it was just the two of them and there was no dancing around the fact that he didn’t look at anyone else the way he looked at her, and he never whispered a word of the secrets he shared with her in confidence. His eyes flicked from the hesitation in her eyes to where her lips were pressed thin.

“You heard the way he said it, Y/N,” he murmured, like he was coaxing an admission out of her. “He wasn’t lying. And he was bloody proud of it.”

She swallowed hard, her throat feeling inexplicably constricted as her eyes dropped to the rough grain of the kitchen table. If he wanted to, Lockwood could hold the piercing sort of gaze that felt as though he was peering right into your soul. She dug the heels of his palms into her eyes. Oh, why did he have to read her like an open book?

“So?” She dropped her hands. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I'm right.”

“Maybe he did know your parents. But he doesn’t know you.”

Lockwood’s gaze darted around the room moodily as he stubbornly refused to look at her face or the scrape on his palm she was disinfecting. “Maybe he doesn’t need to.”

She pulled her hand away and scoffed. “Oh my god, do you hear yourself? You’re really going to take the word of some bitter, violent washed-up relic man over mine?”

His brooding faltered. “Of course not.”

“It’s like I’ve never waded in questionable waters to fish out Sources you were too excitable and butter-fingered to handle properly.”

Lockwood had the decency to look mildly embarrassed. “That was one time, and I thanked you like a billion times for the rest of the week. I gave you three whole biscuits too.”

“Or maybe I just dreamt up all those times you had me fib about your whereabouts, like for that TV interview - brilliant plan, by the way.  Took George all of two seconds to switch on the telly and see your ugly mug plastered all over it.”

“How was I supposed to know which channel he’d pick?”

“You were on national television.” Two months on and it still hadn’t seemed to sink in. “And I guess that beehive that you were too scared to get close to in the Smiths’ case just never existed.”

“Hang on, now -“

“No, no, it’s too late. Next time I’ll just let you fall seven stories and break your neck.”

“Alright, I get it.“

She finally let herself laugh as he pulled her down into the chair next to his, her legs an undignified heap of limbs from where they were tangled with his. She tilted her head as she considered him from up close, the sheepish ghost of a smile playing at his lips and the familiar embarrassed tinge of pink to the tips of his ears.

“I’m sorry, I promise. Don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought. Quick,” she said, shoving her hand in his face, “how many fingers?”

He rolled his eyes and pulled her fingers out of the way. She tried not to focus on how gently he wrapped his hand around hers.

“I thought you liked my ugly mug. No, wait - you like my coat. And how it flaps behind me when I run. You think it’s cool.”

“No, you think it’s cool.”

He creased his forehead comically. “No, no, I distinctly remember us discussing my coat and how cool it was. I got us coffee right after, remember?”

“Delusional. Add that to your list of symptoms.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Lockwood hadn’t released her fingers from his grip. She wasn’t about to remind him either. He lazily stroked his thumb over her knuckles, and the movement was soothing enough to put her to sleep.

“Thank you.”

She peeled her eyes open. He was staring at their hands clasped together in her lap. He pressed a featherlight kiss to her knuckles and she felt herself flush.

“Erm, time for bed?”

“Bed.”

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