#I was trying to find one one time and I walked past it like five times cause the only marker was a tiny sign

[scented-morker]

୨୧ Whoops 𓂃 ♥︎

idol!riki x idol!reader, fem!reader, secret relationship, riki is a little too used to taking care of you… 950 words ft. Mark Lee cameo 🫶

Award show season in the kpop industry was one of the most fun parts of your job.

You spent hours preparing stages and dance breaks with your group, trying on beautiful dress after beautiful dress, and of course texting your boyfriend Riki for spoilers on his stages.

You: Pleaseeeeee 🙏 I’ll send you a picture of my red carpet dress if you tell me

Riki: you should probably do that anyway 🤭 Jungwon said last show I stared too much but I was just so shocked, you looked so pretty

You: YOU WERE SHOCKED??? DO I NOT NORMALLY LOOK PRETTY???

Riki: Ok crazy I DID NOT SAY THAT

You: blocked.

You were joking around, but you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had noticed him staring when you walked past his group and hadn’t been able to stop your blush even after his leader had smacked him to knock it off.

Your own leader had made up an excuse to yank you back to the makeup artist in an attempt to offset your red face.

Fans absolutely caught the whole thing on camera, and you two were viral for a week.

That was the non fun part of award season— trying to pretend you weren’t completely smitten with the beautiful boy on stage.

Everytime Riki performed you wanted to jump out of your seat and scream your head off.

You were dating the world’s most talented boy and couldn’t even show it… especially since your company had made you go through extra media training to avoid it happening again.

As much as you hated keeping it a secret, you hated to see your boyfriend getting hate even more, so you focused on controlling yourself around the cameras.

When the camera panned to your group during the Enhypen performance on New Years Eve, you calmly smiled and nodded your head to the beat of XO. Your leader gave you a discreet high five as soon as the screen refocused on the boys, and you glowed with pride.

Riki had done well for the most part as well, managing to look like he really liked the song you were performing and not like he was losing his mind over your leather outfit.

Everything was going perfectly smooth until the very end of the show.

You were crammed onto the stage with what seemed like every single idol that has ever debuted.

You bow as you once again bump into one of your seniors, glad when they give you a quick hug and wave off your apology.

It’s almost midnight, and you look around the stage in an attempt to find the rest of your group who you haven’t seen in at least five minutes.

You laugh to yourself when you spot your boyfriend immediately, his head peeking over the rest of the crowd due to his sheer height.

He spots you and raises an eyebrow at you in question, but you don’t even attempt to explain your panicked look, knowing the interaction would get caught and analyzed hundreds of times.

Instead you start walking towards his general direction, making sure to look just enough to the side that people won’t think you’re approaching him.

You hope your group is somewhere near his, thinking your age and popularity were similar enough for the directors to place you beside each other.

There’s music playing over the speakers as you continue looking around for someone you recognize. Idols start dancing around in excitement, and you’re once again jostled as you make your way through the crowd.

A particularly excited Mark Lee accidentally backs up into you, bumping you what feels like halfway across the stage, and you’re fully expecting to hit the ground from the impact.

You internally groan at the videos that are surely going to be everywhere in a few hours, and you try to make sure you don’t accidentally flash anyone when you fall.

But instead of hitting the ground how you were expecting, you find yourself against a familiar body with an arm around your waist.

A gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling, and you don’t even need to turn around to know Riki is behind you.

You quickly untangle yourself from him, turning and bowing deeply to him.

“Thank you for catching me.”

He mirrors your body language, lifting his head to peer into your eyes, his own soft and full of concern.

“Are you okay?”

You nod quickly, standing back up and knowing you’re screwed.

A quick glance behind him shows Jungwon with wide eyes and Heeseung losing his mind laughing at the two of you being horrible relationship hiders.

You bow to them as well, although you make a mental note to yell at Heeseung the next time you see him.

Mark Lee chooses that moment to come up to you with a red face and sheepish smile as he apologizes profusely and Haechan laughs behind him.

You accept it quickly, wanting to get out of the area and horrible situation as soon as possible.

You’re grateful when your leader finally approaches you, looking between you, Mark, and Riki with terrified eyes.

“I’ll explain later.” You whisper as she grabs your arm and the two of you quickly exit towards the other part of the stage.

When you wake up the next day it’s to multiple texts from your manager, two calls from your boyfriend, and a Dispatch article featuring the photo of Riki holding you against him in the middle of the stage.

Whoops.

[yeonmuse]

RESTRICTED AREA | DAY 16

PAIRING lead singer Jongho x fan reader

WORD COUNT | 2.2k

WARNING 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

SUMMARY the backstage area is for authorized personnel only but somehow you crept your way in, all just to see him.

MORE | Day 16 of the Groupie Love Series

Never in your entire life as a fan could you have seen yourself in the position you were now. I mean yeah you thought about such things, hell you were in this position because you decided to write about it but did you really think it’d ever happen? You didn’t know if you should be thankful or curse yourself for the fact that you ever decided to write such things. So here you sat hiding away from the staff in one of the backstage storage closets all because you couldn’t stop your brain from thinking or writing out such slutty things.

Was this really happening? Truly happening? You looked down at the note in your hand, a note which you had received less than five minutes ago by none other than Choi Jongho.

“Meet me backstage last door to the left.’’ Was all it read

Your heart was beating out of your chest at the moment, so loud that you believed if anyone were to walk past the closet door they’d catch you immediately. Your head had been racing with so many thoughts that you hadn’t even taken any time to think about what would possibly happen if you were caught. You were too busy wondering what Choi Jongho could possibly want with you, a regular fan. You knew very well that Jongho and the others were familiar with you by now. I mean you were at nearly every concert or meet and greet. So much so that they always made sure to greet you by name showing that they did indeed remember who you were, but never had this happened not once. While you sat there waiting for the man you practically idolized to find you there you began to let your mind wander places you would usually suppress whenever you went to see them.

‘What if….’ you eyes shot to the door and you found yourself thinking about what it would be like if he came through those doors and just fucked you right then and there. You immediately squeezed your thighs together at the thought alone. The thought of his slender fingers wrapped around your waist, one pressing against your belly so he could feel his aching cock fill your stomach and the other resting on your waist. A dazed whimper spilled from your lips as you felt wetness began to pool between your thighs. You were now trying hard to push away the many naughty thoughts that flooded your head, but the gushing between your thighs was evident enough that it was too late. Thinking that maybe you could quickly fix the problem before Jongho or possibly anyone else finds you, you push yourself up onto one of the nearby speaker boxes and spread your legs. Slipping your hand beneath your dress and pushing your pantines to the side you let thoughts of him rushing in confessing how much he wanted to fuck you fill your head. Thoughts of him slamming you against the wall and just ramming into you ignoring your please and cries of pleasure.

The moment your fingers met your sensitive buds your head fell back and his name spilled past your lips like a faint whisper. You had been so occupied with trying to satisfy your needs that you had forgotten all about the note, the entire reason you were even there in the first place. Too distracted to realize as the door cracked open and in walked in the man that had instructed you to be there in the first place.

“I’d have never guessed you to be the type to welcome me like this yn .’’ In that moment you felt your heart drop, you wished that the earth would just swallow you whole so that you didn’t have to open your eyes and face the fact that the man you were just getting off to moments ago had found you touching yourself backstage of his show. While you jumped from the supply box and scrambled to fix your clothes you found your head racing with thoughts on how to get yourself out of such a mess.

“I-” you couldn’t manage to find any words to say, there was not an excuse in the world that you could come up with to defend yourself. When you were sure that he’d turn right around and have someone escort you out your heart sank at the words that spilled from his lips next.

“Who would have thought, our pretty little yn to be such a slut. Writing all those tweets and notes on her socials and now here you are backstage touching yourself like a desperate whore.” your throat went completely dry at his words

“W-what do you mean?’’ stupid, you were so stupid you knew exactly what he was talking about but the question just came spilling from your lips.

“The pretty girl likes to play dumb? Don’t tell me you’ll deny it? Neither of us are oblivious about your little fan accounts. The many tweets of you and other fans discussing how you’d want nothing more than to be our pretty little cocksluts. Pathetic little groupie, nothing but a desperate slut that touches herself at the thought of one of us filling up her pretty pussy.’’ He had caught you red handed and you couldn’t do anything but sit there and take his words.

“So tell me then, did you plan on fucking yourself with those tiny fingers all alone back here until I arrived? I bet you thought about one of the members finding you all alone and vulnerable back here and fucking your pretty little brains out, am I right?’’ He eyed you hungrily, only for his gaze to darken once he realized you didn’t plan on speaking up.

“I asked you a question yn’’ The way he spoke your name in a near growl made you immediately clamp your legs together and your heart beat so hard you thought it’d fall from your chest.

“yes.’’ You cursed yourself for sounding so scared and nervous.

“Yes what little one?’’ His hand slipped around your waist with ease as if he had done it many times before and as he leaned in close to your ear you could feel his breath graze your neck.

“You know exactly what I'm waiting for, baby, finish your sentence. You’ve written it time and time again, or are you simply just a slutty little girl who writes because she’s too afraid to have herself ruined in real life.’’ swallowing your fear you gazed up at him through half lidded eyes as the words spilled from your lips

“I- I was thinking of you..’’ you immediately turned your head so that you were looking anywhere but his face not wanting to see the satisfied grin on his lips as you could already hear the grin in his voice.

“How about I give my pretty little groupie what she wants, fuck all of us have been waiting to test out your pretty little mouth from the moment I found that secret account of yours. Too bad for them i’ll be the first to ruin you.’’ He immediately pushed you to the floor and unbuckled his belt.

“Promise me baby, you’ll be a good girl and keep it to yourself if i feed you my cock like the pretty little slut you are.’’ the way you gazed up at him with such innocent eyes nearly drove him mad. He knew very well that behind that gaze was the girl that had been writing online about how she wanted him to fuck her dumb and he’d make sure to bring that out of you. Once you gave him a nod of agreement he wasted no time in slipping his belt from their loops

“Fuck you look so pretty, you always come dressed so pretty. Now i know it's all just to impress us.’’ Grabbing a fist full of your hair he forced you to look up at him as he forced his pants and his underwear down past his thighs letting them fall to the ground. As nervous as you were about this entire situation you werent gonna stop him, hell yes you were scared but more than anything this was everything you fantasized about.

Without warning he immediately pushed his cock down your throat, completely bottoming out and earning a hard gag from you. The way it completely stretched out your mouth and tapped the back of your throat made your eyes tear.

“That’s right.” He groans, throwing his head back, left hand gripping your hair and the other pushing his dark locks off his face. He looks down at you with your lips around his cock and mouth stuffed full of him, and he almost cums at the sight.

Giving the head of his cock a soft kiss, you make your way down to the base and press another gentle kiss there, continuing up his shaft until you reach the head once more. Your hands come up to wrap around him, meeting a little bit of an inconvenience due to his girth but you manage with your other hand. Jonghos eyes squeeze shut in pleasure at the tight ring you’ve formed around his dick and moans when you start stroking him up and down; occasionally leaning in to let a dollop of your spit drip down onto his length and coat his hot skin.

You didn’t know where this new found confidence of yours had come from , but you weren't going to let such a moment pass you by, the man you idolized had you right here kneeling before him like he was some sort of god.

“There she is, our pretty little slut finally shows her true self.’’ the grip he held on your hair tightened and when your arms tire out you resort to your lips once more. Taking the head into your mouth, He tenses and flexes his thighs, the warmth that enveloped the tip of his cock in contrast to the cool air that surrounded the rest of it makes him shudder.

“Shit, yn. Rule taking me so good” He moans when you suck at his tip before lolling your tongue around the bulbous head of his cock, occasionally swiping at the slit to collect the beading precum which falls flat on your tongue.

Finally opening your eyes as you had gotten used to the way his cock had filled your entire mouth you allowed yourself to take him in.This was a man you had fantasized about many times, and the way you daydreamed such a moment to be was nothing in comparison to the real deal. The way his mouth slacked open as you kneeled there sucking him off.

Your head bobs up and down along his shaft, making the man before you shudder out a sigh. Your lips were rimmed with a concoction of your spit and precum. The hands that were idly laying on his muscular thighs slowly slid down to cup his balls and his heart nearly jumped out his chest.

Something akin to a giggle bubbles out from your throat at his reaction, yet all that does is vibrate against the brunet’s cock and he groans.

“Fuck.” He draws out the syllables, hands finding purchase in your hair. “You’re doing so good baby, just a little more”

Your palms were busy fondling with him underneath as your throat repeatedly swallowed around him, and that feeling had driven him crazy. Jongho was quite shocked at how well he had been holding himself together and at this rate it went without saying that you definitely knew how to work your tongue. Rubbing against the underside of his cock as if you weren’t gurgling around his tip already. God he was so close to cumming, and it sure was obvious from the blush on the tip of his ears, the heavy breathing, and the sweat beading at the crease in between his eyebrows.

“Fuck. Stay still, baby.” he suddenly moans, fingers curling around locks of hair and ceasing your movement. He bucks up into your mouth and you take this as a sign to relax your throat, dropping your jaw even lower to accommodate the rest of his length. And just like that he chases after his orgasm. Roughly thrusting into your awaiting mouth, staring deeply into your fucked out eyes, not that he was much better. His dark hair stuck onto his forehead and his cheeks were flushed pink, plump lips red and nearly bloody from almost biting them off.

Jongho’s moans constantly get louder and hoarser. “Fuck.” He would groan, slurring out the words into near incoherent phrases. At some point he had gotten to such a volume that had you worried about anyone passing outside possibly having heard him.

You hadn’t thought that his voice could go any deeper or that was until a blissed out groan spilled from his lips and that’s when his breath hitches and his hips finally stop plowing into your throat. Thick ropes of his cum spurts into you, coating the walls of your mouth and throat.

He lets out a final groan before slipping out of your lips, cock now flaccid and balls emptied. He throws his head back to catch his breath before looking back down at you; lips smeared with spit and at the corner of your mouth peaks white beads of his cum and his cock almost twitches at the sight.

“Shit, the others are gonna have some fun with you.’’

🔖 @sol3chu @butterflywonz @lillotus17

[sinnabarmoth]

Her Kitty and His Bunny

(A/N: My first Xavier prompt! Meant to have this out last month but I got really wrapped up in the Dragon Sylus fic. Oops.)

Pairing: Kitty|Xavier x Bunny|Reader (fem)

Prompt: Sweet fluff of kitty Xavier meeting and falling for the Bunny girl Reader working at the bookstore.

Length: 3k

It was a normal day of work at the bookshop which meant things were pretty slow. You wandered along through the shelves trying to find a book for a pick up order. You had to go near the back of the shop and you were surprised by what else you found there.

You had heard him before you saw him, the fluffy ears on top of your head catching the tiniest sounds all the time. And you could hear someone muttering softly. You turned the corner to see who was back here because you could have sworn the store was empty.

Laying against the wall, a book opened and resting on his chest was a man you vaguely remembered walking in earlier. Blonde, handsome face, cozy peach cardigan, pair of fuzzy cat ears and an equally fluffy tail that was curled around him and resting on his lap. He had fallen asleep directly in front of a warm ray of light and you couldn’t deny it looked heavenly. You could have done with a nap yourself.

How long had this guy been back here? Should you wake him? He wasn’t bothering anyone. But what if he had nodded off accidentally and needed to be somewhere? Or what if this was a medical problem?

“Sir. Sir, wake up.” you said.

“Hm?” he turned his head away from you towards the sunlight.

“What a pain.” you muttered and squatted next to him. You shook his shoulder. “Sir, you need to wake up now.”

He shifted again but his eyes opened this time to look at you. You could almost swear he was about to go back to sleep but you kept poking him. “Sir, are you alright? You’ve been asleep back here for quite some time.”

He sat up straight, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a yawn. What a sleepy kitty this guy was. It was rather cute seeing how soft and bleary he was right after a nap. “Sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep back here.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” you stood back up. “You know it isn’t exactly a smart idea to fall asleep whenever, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that. I only meant to sit and read a chapter to see if I liked this book but then the sun came in and I just dozed off.” he stood up, stretching his arms high above his head. A bit of his shirt rode up and you caught a peek of his toned stomach. What kind of physique was he hiding under that cardigan?

“Must not have been a good book if it helped put you to sleep.”

“It was good actually. So good that I read through five chapters in one go before I fell asleep.” he flipped through the book. “I think I’ll get it.”

“Good to hear.” you looked past his head and saw the book you had originally come back here looking for. “There you are!” you stretched past him to grab the book on the high shelf. It was just out of range, your fingertips grazing the spine.

The man turned to see what you were reaching for and easily plucked the book from the shelf. “I was wondering why you were suddenly reaching towards me. But you weren’t. Is this the book you wanted?”

“It is. Thanks.” you checked your watch. “Oh they’re gonna be here any minute to pick this up. I gotta get this packaged.” you turned and scuttled back to the front desk. You grabbed the paper you wrapped books in and went through the folding process, tucking in a bookmark and sealing it with a custom sticker.

The man that you woke up was standing near the desk watching you work in silence. When you were done you set the book aside with the rest of the pick up orders and turned to him. “Ready to check out?”

“Yes.” he set the book on the counter. “Do you do that for every book you sell?”

“No, just the ones that are getting picked up or delivered.” you shrugged. “Why, were you hoping I’d wrap this one? You giving it as a present or something?”

“No. I was merely curious.” he thumbed through the stack of bookmarks by the register as you scanned the item. “You must have been working here a long time if you can package them that quickly.”

“Been a couple months so I’ve had the time, yeah.” you cocked your head at him, “Is this your first time in here? I’m pretty good with faces and I don’t remember yours.”

“No. Last I remembered it was still a noodle shop.”

“Really? Hasn’t been a noodle shop in like thirty years.” you appraised him closer. He didn’t look like he was that much older than you. How old was he if he remembered it from before it got turned into a bookstore? “If you don’t find it rude of me, how old are you? I could have sworn you were only in your twenties.”

“Oh, I am.” he said. “I remember it being a noodle shop because I had family that came here when it was and they talked about how good the food was. I found an old take-out menu so I decided to come down and check it out, only to find out it had become a bookstore in the meantime.”

You laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you. There is a really good noodle place a block down if you’re still hungry.” you placed a hand over your stomach. “What I would give for some chashu ramen with extra naruto. Maybe even some edamame. That sounds heavenly.”

“You could always order some.”

“No, I can’t. The place doesn’t do delivery and I have to stay and watch the store. The owner also gets mad if I eat at the front desk so even if I could get food I can’t eat it. They claim it is unprofessional looking. Not like there’s a huge amount of people coming in here everyday. Most of the time it’s pretty empty.” your stomach grumbled again.

“That sounds unfair. Do you not get to eat at all?”

“I have granola bars that I sneak bites of.” you shrugged. “So it’s not like I’m starving.”

“That doesn’t sound sustainable.”

“It is what it is.” you turned the card machine towards him. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The man paid you for the book and you handed him the bag. “I’ll check out that noodle shop you recommended. Thank you.”

“Have a nice afternoon. Enjoy those noodles for me.” you waved as he left.

Your smile dropped once he was out of sight. You had forgotten to ask his name. Maybe he’d come in again some time and you could ask then. You doubted it though. Outside of your regulars that had been coming here for years the only people that came by were lost tourists and students looking for cheap used textbooks.

Pick up orders came and left. You had blown through the last of your stash of granola bars and stared at the clock. You still had three hours before the end of your shift. You weren’t gonna make it. Stupid rabbit metabolism!

Your leg bounced in boredom as you stared at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. Your head slumped onto the counter. You were so freaking hungry!

Your ears perked as you heard the door bell chime. You picked your head up to greet whoever walked in and saw the handsome sleepy man from before. He had a plastic bag in his one hand and he held it out to you. “Special delivery.”

“What is this?” you took the bag. Inside were two takeout bowls of hot ramen. “Did you buy this for me?”

“You were hungry and you said the place doesn’t do delivery. So I thought I’d start my own delivery service, although I suppose it is a specialty service since it only has one customer.”

“This is amazing. Thank you so much. I can pay you back. How much was it?”

“You don’t have to pay me anything, except,” he took out both bowls and slid one over to you. “Don’t make me eat alone.”

“But the owner--”

“The camera behind the front desk isn’t hooked up to anything. Either it’s broken or it was put up there just to intimidate shoppers out of stealing. The owners won’t know you were eating at the front desk unless they come in.” he said.

You really looked at the camera you spent days hiding your granola bars from and your mouth dropped open. It really wasn’t attached to anything! They had let you believe you were being monitored that entire time! You could have been eating full meals this entire time and they wouldn’t have known! It’s not like they ever come down to the store. They own it but you basically run it.

“So?” he held out a pair of chopsticks to you.

“Thank you so much.” you took the chopsticks. “What’s your name by the way? I never asked.”

“Xavier.”

“Nice to meet you, Xavier. And thanks again for the food.” You opened the lid on your ramen and saw he had gotten exactly what you had said you were craving, chashu with extra naruto.

You are your ramen together and bit by bit got to know more about Xavier. He had been living abroad for a while and recently moved back to Linkon. He worked as a Hunter which was exciting. You had to remember not to mention how much Hunter inspired media you absorbed. There was an entire bookshelf back at your apartment that was full of Hunter romance novels and movies. If he knew about that he’d probably think you were weird. You couldn’t help it. There was something just inherently exciting and romantic about Hunters that drew you in.

You told him about your life living in Linkon and how you liked to spend your days when you weren’t working. It wasn’t anything nearly as exciting as what he did but it made you happy.

After that Xavier just kept popping in while you were working. He always made sure to stop by with some kind of food. Sometimes they were sweet breads from the bakery, hot ramen on rainy days, smoothies from the food truck down the street. Just something to help tide you over until you got off work. And you talked and talked and talked until finally you told him to just give you his number so you could text. Because no matter what there was always more you wanted to say to each other and not enough time while you were working to talk about it all.

He didn’t stop by the store as often after he got your number but you still talked every day thanks to it. He said you calling him was often what woke him up from his naps. How the man could fall asleep anywhere and everywhere was a mystery to you. Last time you had called him he had dozed off on the train and woke up to realize his destination had been three stops ago so he had to get off and get a cab back to where he needed to be anyway.

“Xavier, I swear, it isn’t normal for someone to fall asleep as much as you do. And don’t just say it is a cat thing. Cats like to lie down but I know other cat people and they do not nap as much as you do.” you were going up and down the aisles of the bookstore restocking some items. Xavier was following behind you with the box.

It was late and the shop had already closed but you needed to get these books out for their official release tomorrow morning. It was the highly anticipated sequel to a Hunter romance novel. You had already pre-ordered your copy and were going to sneak one from the stack while Xavier wasn’t looking to take home and read.

“I work a lot. I have to sleep when I can.”

“That’s the excuse you gave last time. I don’t think that your job has you on call so much that you have to take a military sleep approach to it.” you had run out of space on the shelf you were stocking and reached to start putting them on the next shelf up. But once again it was just out of reach.

“I’ll get this.” Xavier stretched past you, putting the books on the higher shelf. You hadn’t moved yet so he was practically pressed against you as he reached to put the books in place.

“Uh Xavier,” you said, “Can I uh…can I move first?”

“Hm?” he looked down without stepping back. You knew he was tall before but with him looking down at you from so close only made you realize how much shorter you really were.

“Your ears are pinned back.” he said, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“A little…” you broke your gaze, heat rolling up your neck.

“Sorry.” he stepped back. “Didn’t really think about it.”

“It’s okay.” you took a couple steps away to regain your wits. You felt a little flick on your tail and you jumped a foot in the air.

Xavier was standing where you had been, had outstretched. “Did you touch my tail?”

“Sorry again. It was up for the first time and I had never seen it do that before. It looked so soft on the underside I just found myself reaching out to feel it.” he said. “I didn’t think it’d be a big deal. You touch my tail all the time.”

“Well, yours is longer. If you touch my tail you’re basically touching my butt!”

He cracked an embarrassed smile. “As I recall, that didn’t seem to bother you either when you touched mine.”

“I told you it was an accident! How long are you gonna hold that over me?”

“I don’t plan on holding it over you. I just like to remind you every once in a while.”

“That’s the same thing!” He chuckled again. “What is it now? Why are you laughing!”

“I never noticed before but when you’re angry your nose twitches.”

“Ugh!” you covered your nose. “No it doesn’t!”

“Yes it does. You say I’m so much like a cat but you have so many rabbit tendencies too. Right down to loving carrots.”

“I just happen to like carrots and a lot of media portrays rabbits loving carrots. That is correlation, not causation.”

“And the fact that you jumped really far when I startled you?”

“You startled me. Exactly. Who wouldn’t jump?”

“You cleared a good couple feet in a single bound, bunny.”

“You don’t get to call me bunny like you’re trying to be cute. Not unless you’re cool with me calling you kitty.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“What?”

“You can call me kitty Xavier if you want. I don’t mind. So I can keep calling you bunny, right?”

“No! That wasn’t--”

“You just said if you get to call me kitty I get to call you bunny. Or should I call you bun-bun instead? Floppy ears? Cottontail?”

“Stop! You are so embarrassing!” you covered his mouth to stop the nicknames. “Fine, you can call me bunny, but only when no one else is around.”

He pulled your hand off his mouth. “Does that mean I get to call you bunny now? We are alone.”

“Fine. But don’t overdo it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, bunny.”

“Curse whatever metaflux fluctuation that determined our evolution millenia ago to give us these animal appendages.” you muttered under your breath. “There was a point in time thousands of years ago when we didn’t have animal tails and ears. Why couldn’t we have stayed that way?”

“So we wouldn’t miss out on the fun of petting our own ears.” Xavier said, giving you a little scratch behind the ear as you stood there. You unconsciously leaned your head into his touch before coming to your senses and gently smacking his hand away. “Something wrong?”

“You--you--” now that Xavier pointed it out you could feel your nose twitching again. “I do not understand you at all.”

“What’s there to understand?”

“Why do you like teasing me? I didn’t get that vibe from you when we first met but lately you keep doing it.”

“I guess it’s because I like you.”

Your eyes went wide. “What?”

“I’ve liked you for a while. Do you think I’d bring just anyone food unprompted, even when the weather is bad? Or let them touch my tail or scratch my ears?” you could see his face going pink and his tail was swishing from side to side, “I…I like you a lot.”

“Wow.” was all that came out of your mouth. You weren’t expecting a confession. How were you meant to respond?

“Honestly, I thought you already knew. I thought this whole time you had been flirting back with me. You touch me so casually and you’re always sending me such cute messages, calling me first thing in the morning and stuff…” he looked away, his ears plastered against his head. “I guess I was reading too much into it. I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable.”

Had you been flirting all this time? In retrospect it was obvious. So painfully obvious to everyone but you. It was no secret that you found him attractive. He was also always super kind to you. Each time he came by with something for you to eat your heart started beating faster. Not just because seeing him meant he had food but because you knew you’d get to talk to him more. You called him first thing in the morning every day partly to make sure he woke up at a decent hour but also because his voice was the first thing you wanted to hear at the start of the day.

You wanted to be around him. Be near him. Always have part of him in reach.

“You too…” you murmured.

“Huh?” he glanced back at you.

“...like you too.” you said, a little louder.

He prowled closer, leaning in close to your face. “Say again? My hearing isn’t as good as yours.”

“I said I like you too!” you snapped, your face roiling hot. “I really really like you! Happy?”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close into his chest. You could hear a faint purring deep in his chest. “Yes.”

You let yourself melt against him. He was so warm. You nuzzled your face into his chest a little more and he chuckled. “Hopefully now we can do something outside of this bookstore.” you said.

“I don’t mind where we are so long as you are there too, bunny.”

[davinawritings]

A Knotty Discovery

Pairing: Male Werewolf X Fem Chubby Human Reader

Warnings: Smut, Penetration, Knotting, Sex toys, Ruined Orgasm, Creampie

Summary: You come home to find that your extremely attractive Werewolf roommate has found your collection of knotted dildos.

🖤❤️💕💕❤️🖤

When you walked into your apartment, you were surprised not to see your roommate sitting on the couch in the living room. It was Sunday night, which was your traditional movie night together. Both of you worked but always ensured you were home by five on Sundays. Since you both had Mondays off, you made Sunday your weekly pizza and movie night, staying up late and enjoying each other’s presence.

Decker and you have lived together for over a year now, and honestly, you love it. The only problem was your small, well maybe not so small, crush on him. You couldn’t help it, though; he is just so amazing. He is the exact opposite of you. You are human, and he is a werewolf. While you are short and chubby, he is massively tall and made of muscle. You are soft and gentle, while he is hard and strong.

You cherish movie nights where he wraps an arm around you and pulls you close. You love leaning against his large body and nuzzling into his soft fur. He always manages to brighten your day and make you laugh. He takes care of you and makes you feel love. Unfortunately, he has never expressed any romantic interest in you, so you try to be content with having him as a friend.

It’s already past five, and Decker is usually getting everything set up for movie night by now. You set the pizza you brought home on the counter, thinking he must be running late. You head for your bedroom and decide to take the extra time to put on your cute pajamas.

You certainly had not been expecting to walk in and see Decker kneeling on the floor in front of your closet, your box of vibrators and dildos open in front of him. There are several knotted dildos on the floor beside him, and the largest one is gripped in his clawed hand. Your face heats up immediately, and you accidentally let out a small gasp at the sight.

The noise catches his attention, and his eyes immediately meet your own. You quickly look to the floor in embarrassment at his intense gaze. “Oh, no, pretty girl. Eyes on me. How long have you been hiding this? Hmm?”. You can’t seem to push any words out of your mouth, and you hear him moving because of your lack of response. You stand entirely frozen as he stops before you, using one hand to guide your eyes up to his.

“All these months, you have never shown any interest in monsters. The only male you went on a few dates with, being that loser human, and now I find all this. My adorable little human likes monster cock, well, werewolf cock specifically”, he says with a smirk. You try to pull away, your mortification at an all-time high at his words, but he doesn’t let you budge.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you realize how much I have been holding myself back, thinking you had no interest in a werewolf like me. From the moment I met you, I wanted you sitting on my knot. I wanted to hold your plush body in my claws and never let you go, but I thought you wanted a human male. I had to keep myself from ripping your clothes off every fucking day”. You let out a needy whimper at his words, and a smirk appeared on his face once again.

“Baby, when you wear those little pajama shorts, and I can see your thick thighs, all I can think about is holding them in my hands as I thrust my cock inside you over and over. And last Sunday, when you wore that cute little nighty for our movie night, I swear I was hard all night. All I wanted to do was bend you over the side of the couch and knot you all night long. Your body looks so fucking breedable, baby, and I just want to fill you every moment of every day” he finishes his last statement with a low growl, and it goes straight to your panties.

You wet your lips and reply, “I.. I have always wanted you, Decker. I just didn’t think you were interested in me, so I never said anything”. He shakes his head and says, “Baby, how could I not want you? Everything about you makes me want to claim you, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing, but first, you are going to show me exactly what you do with those toys over there.

You feel a twinge of embarrassment at the thought, but it is quickly overpowered by arousal and lust at the thought of him watching you. He gives you a quick pat as you make your way over to the toys and reach for your medium-sized dildo.

“The big one, sweetheart. I must ensure you are nice and stretched out when I take you. I’m a lot bigger than your little toys over there”, he tells you, his voice a low purr. You almost moan at his words, the excitement of being so filled making you crave him even more.

You slowly take off your clothing, wanting to tease him a bit. As your panties hit the floor, you see Decker take a big inhale and moan. You blush under his gaze, and he gives you his signature wolfish grin.

You place the large dildo on the floor, the suction cup base holding it in place. You kneel over it, lining its tip up with your wet entrance. You look at him as you slowly let your weight push you down on the thick dildo. His eyes don’t leave your slick cunt as he moves one of his hands to squeeze his cock over his pants. You felt your mouth salivating at the sight.

You reach halfway down when you rise up again, leaving just the tip inside you before dropping back down. You continue this until the knot presses against your entrance on each downward stroke. You moan as you watch his eyes bounce all around your body. The dildo feels so good, but his eyes on you feel even better. You release soft whimpers and moans, and you work your body up and down.

“That’s it, baby. Keep riding. Fuck I love the sight of your greedy cunt swallowing that dildo. You look so fucking beautiful, baby. There you go. Go a little faster, baby. I wanna see those perfect tits bounce faster, little one. Fuck princess, I can’t wait to fill you with my cock. I wanna see you take that knot, baby. I wanna see your greedy little pussy stretch around it”, he growls out, lust lacing his voice.

You spread your legs wider and drop your pussy down lower. You move one of your fingers down to your swollen clit and rub tight circles on it. Pleasure slams through your body, and the knot fully pops inside your tight cunt. “Fu-Fuck Decker. I’m cumming. Fuck I’m cumming”, you cry out.

Just as your cunt clenches down at the beginning of probably the best orgasm of your life, Decker wraps his claws around your arms and pulls you up and off the dildo, the suction cup keeping it secured to the floor. You cry out at the ruined orgasm, your cunt trying to clench around nothing, and your clit pulsing in need of stimulation. Tears spring to your eyes as your thighs clench together, trying to get any stimulation at all. Decker is quick to reach one hand down and separate your legs, stopping any stimulation and ruining your orgasm completely.

You look at him in confusion and a hint of betrayal as tears stream down your face. He licks up the tears from your cheeks before saying, “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’ve decided that the first time we fuck, the only knot you are going to cum on is mine.” With that, he pushes you back to lie on the bed as he starts stripping his clothes.

You stare at every glorious inch of his body that gets exposed. Your need for him increases with each second. As his cock is revealed, you audibly gasp. He wasn’t lying when he said he was bigger than your toys. His cock is so giant that even fully hard, it hangs down towards the floor, too heavy to stand upright. The knot at the base is larger than your fist, and your nipples harden even more at the thought of him forcing it inside you.

“Tell me you want it, princess. I need you to tell me now because once I start, I won’t be able to stop. I’ve thought about this for far too long to be able to hold back once I finally have you,” he says, giving you one last chance to back out.

You spread your legs wide, making sure your dripping pussy is entirely on display, and reply, “Please, Decker. Please, I want this, I need this, I need you. Please fill me. Make me yours”. He is on you before you even finish. He pushes your legs up and over his shoulders, his cock resting over your pussy and your lower belly. He thrusts his cock back and forth but holds back from entering you, just working on covering himself in your slick juices.

“Mmmm, I love how soft your body is, baby. So fucking perfect in every way. Drives me fucking mad”, he growls out. Each brush of his cock rubs your pulsing clit, and all you want is for him to push inside you. You are just about to start begging when he finally lines himself up with your needy hole and pushes in. He only goes about halfway, but you are already crying out at the feeling.

He moans your name and keeps thrusting, moving deeper and deeper with each stroke. He watches your body open up for him, mumbling the word perfect under his breath. On his next thrust, his knot hits your entrance, and he seems to lose all control. He grabs onto your love handles and starts fucking you like an animal.

You cry out in ecstasy at feeling so full, his cock slamming into your g-spot brutally on every thrust. Your hands grip his forearms, needing to hold on and ground yourself as he fucks you like he owns you. “Fuck Decker… you feel so good. Don-don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please”.

He moans at your begging, leaning forward to cover your body with his own. Your knees are pushed up towards your shoulders, and his body keeps you in place, unable to move. You cum with a cry of his name, squirting on his cock from the pleasure.

He doesn’t give you any time to recover as he continues using your puffy pussy. You whimper at the overstimulation that sets in, but you don’t want him to stop. You need to feel him knot you. You need to feel him fill you with his cum.

“Your pussy is fucking heaven, baby. I’m never fucking letting you go. Do you hear me? You’re MINE.” he says as his thrusts speed up. His hips slammed against you and pushed you down into the mattress. You only manage to whimper and moan in response, tears streaming down your chubby cheeks in pleasure.

He pulls back almost entirely before slamming his hips down, pressing his knot against your entrance and keeping it there as he tries to push it in. Your entrance puts up a good fight, and he growls, angry at the denial of entry. You start to question whether or not he will be able to fit his knot inside when he shifts his weight so almost all of it is in his hips, pushing his knot harder against your dripping cunt.

Gravity seems to be on his side as his knot is forced into your tight cunt as he drops down against you completely. You scream out his name at the insane stretch, never having been this filled, his tip kissing your womb. Your arms wrap around his back as your nails dig into his fur. He starts his thrusts again, but this time shallow as his knot stays stuck inside of you. Each stroke causes your body to jiggle beneath him, your nipples rubbing against his hairy chest, sending shocks of pleasure to your aching clit.

He pulls his hips back, and his cock pulls your bottom half off the bed by your swollen cunt, before he drops back down. He groans with the motion and continues repeating it. You cry out each time, your pussy overfilled and overwhelmed with the sensation of him.

He slams you down once more, and your legs begin to shake with pleasure. You scream out his name as your cunt once again clamps down on his massive cock, milking him with everything you have. You feel his cock twitching as he lets out a loud growl followed by swears. His cock begins filling you to the brim with his seed. Your already too-full pussy is being filled even more. Your lower stomach bloats and hardens as he cums and cums and cums, his knot not allowing even a single drop of his seed to drip from your cunt.

You cling to him as you both come down, trying to regulate the air in your lungs. He keeps you pressed to him as he rolls onto his back, draping you over his warm chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s embrace. As your mind starts returning, you sit up slightly to look at him.

“Why were you going through my closet?” you ask him. He gives you a soft smile and answers, “I was setting up for movie night and wanted to get that fuzzy throw blanket you keep on the couch in the winter. It’s a little cold today, so I thought you might enjoy it. I remember you saying you were putting it in the closet, so I went looking for it.”.

You smile at his thoughtfulness and place a loving peck on his snout. “The throw blanket is in the hallway closet for future reference.” He stares at you for a moment before laughing. His chest rises and falls, causing you to shake up and down. His laughter is quickly interrupted by a moan as your pussy shifts on his cock from the movement.

“Well, we probably have another 30 minutes to rest while my knot goes down, and then we can start movie night. Although I think this time I’ll have you seated on my lap with my cock and knot nice and warm in your perfect little cunt”.

You smile approvingly, moving your head back to snuggle into his warm chest. You never thought you would be thankful that your roommate found your knotted dildos.

🖤❤️💕💕❤️🖤

Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoyed ❤️❤️❤️

[sunnami]

❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.” 

You blink. 

“Get the fuck out of my room!” 

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making. 

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls. 

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!” 

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze.  Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!” 

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly. 

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.” 

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.” 

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say. 

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies. 

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”  

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.” 

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—” 

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.” 

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you. 

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”) 

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—” 

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.” 

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?” 

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.” 

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.” 

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home. 

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)  

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that. 

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”) 

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.” 

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze. 

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.” 

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much. 

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile. 

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.” 

“I know.” Harry grins. 

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.” 

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally. 

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.” 

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)  

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow. 

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers. 

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.” 

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.” 

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you. 

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast. 

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.) 

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?” 

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.” 

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you. 

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.” 

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze. 

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.” 

“Oi!” 

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.” 

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.” 

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary. 

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.” 

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”) 

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.” 

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.” 

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!” 

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?” 

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically. 

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name. 

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now. 

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?” 

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.” 

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right? 

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.” 

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily. 

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.” 

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.” 

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable. 

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced. 

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear. 

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.” 

Harry’s eye twitches. 

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.” 

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly. 

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.” 

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?” 

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.” 

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.” 

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.” 

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading. 

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands. 

“In your dreams!” You shrill. 

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.” 

Harry nods. “Is it time already?” 

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.” 

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?” 

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.” 

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?” 

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?” 

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat. 

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.” 

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this. 

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes. 

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.” 

“One date, then.” 

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?” 

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.” 

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.” 

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you. 

“And I want to—” 

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” 

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—” 

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.  

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration. 

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases. 

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words. 

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.” 

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.” 

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.) 

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance. 

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.” 

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm. 

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.” 

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.” 

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.” 

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth. 

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it. 

He falls in love.) 

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.” 

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?” 

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.” 

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.” 

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.” 

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.” 

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

[focusonkayjay]

nothing like us | oneshot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: enemies to lovers, fake dating, corporate employees! jungkook & reader, angst, fluff

Word Count: 26k+

Chapter Warnings: mature language, mentions of blood, small injury (lmk if i missed something)

A/N: hello bbies <3 i firstly want to apologize for not posting these past few days. i've been so undeniably busy with uni and work and i totally didn't get the time to proof read before posting. anyways, i hope you like this new oneshot. it's not my best work but parts of it is inspired by "to all the boys i've loved before". (my fav hot tub scene). anyways let me know if you liked this one. muah <3

You take a sip of coffee in the dimly lit office coffee room, letting the rich aroma soothe your nerves. The quiet hum of the vending machine is the only sound accompanying you, a welcome reprieve from the chaos outside.

It’s been one of those days... emails piling up, back-to-back meetings, and a project deadline looming over your head. This is your sanctuary, a brief moment of peace in the hurricane of corporate monotony.

Your job isn’t terrible, though. It’s a typical corporate gig with all the spreadsheets, presentations, polite nods in meetings, and the occasional office drama. Sure, you’d rather be at home binge-watching your favorite series, but hey, bills don’t pay themselves.

As you savor the quiet, your moment of zen is abruptly interrupted. “Y/N-ahhh, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all afternoon!” You almost choke on your coffee at the familiar voice. With a resigned sigh, you turn to face Mrs. Lee.

Mrs. Lee is a middle-aged coworker who’s perpetually cheerful and undoubtedly kind. She’s the type of person who brings in homemade snacks for the whole team and remembers everyone’s birthdays. But she also has a certain... hobby... trying to convince you to go on blind dates.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee.” you greet her politely, though you can already guess what she’s about to say. She clasps her hands together, her smile lighting up the room. “So! Remember how I told you about my nephew who just moved to the city? He’s such a sweet boy, Y/N, and I just know you two would hit it off!”

You suppress a sigh, forcing your features into a polite expression. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Mrs. Lee, but—”

“Oh, don’t say no just yet! He’s a doctor, you know. Very handsome, tall, comes from a good family... he even volunteers at animal shelters in his free time!” she cuts you off, her smile only getting bigger.

You resist the urge to groan. This isn’t the first time she’s done this. In fact, it’s become a bit of a routine. She genuinely believes you’re some sort of eligible bachelorette in desperate need of matchmaking services. No matter how many times you’ve politely declined in the past, she always finds a way to circle back to it.

“Mrs. Lee...” you begin gently. “I really appreciate you thinking of me, but I’m not looking to date anyone right now. Things are just... really busy at work.”

She waves a dismissive hand, undeterred. “Nonsense! You work too hard, Y/N. A nice young man in your life would do wonders for you!” she says. Before you can come up with another excuse, a voice cuts through the room.

“Y/N... Mrs. Lee...” Suho’s head peeks into the coffee room, his usual friendly smile plastered across his face. “Mr. Cho is expecting all of us in the meeting room in five. Says it’s something... important.” he informs.

“Oh, Suho! Thank you, dear!” Mrs. Lee chirps, momentarily distracted. Suho flashes another warm smile before disappearing down the hallway. You silently thank him for the interruption, offering Mrs. Lee a tight-lipped smile as the two of you make your way out of the coffee room. But Mrs. Lee, ever-persistent, continues.

“Y/N, you really shouldn’t let opportunities like this slip by! Life is short, and my nephew really is such a catch—”

She goes on and on and you nod absently, tuning out her words as you walk down the hallway. But then, halfway there, your stomach sinks. Coming from the opposite direction, making his way to the meeting room, is fricking Jeon Jungkook.

Your steps falter for a moment, but you quickly recover, your face already settling into an expression of disdain. Jungkook’s sharp eyes sweep across the hallway, landing on you and Mrs. Lee.

Instantly, you see his jaw tighten, and his gaze flickers with something like annoyance before he rolls his eyes in that infuriatingly dismissive way he always does. You’re quick to mirror his reaction, rolling your eyes as if it’s a reflex.

Jeon Jungkook or let's just call him your biggest arch-nemesis in this corporate jungle.

The two of you joined the company around the same time, and from the very beginning, sparks flew... but not the good kind. Where you had opinions, Jungkook had ego. Where he had solutions, you had questions. You were never the type to back down, and he… well, he hated that.

It became an unspoken rule in the office that if there was a debate in the room, it would almost certainly come down to you and Jungkook.

Everyone at work knew about your rivalry. In fact, it was often a good source of entertainment for them. Colleagues would exchange amused glances during meetings, silently placing bets on who would win the latest argument. There were even whispered jokes about how HR should schedule weekly sparring matches so that both of you could get it out of your systems. But as amusing as it might’ve been for them, it was maddening for you.

It wasn’t that Jungkook was bad at his job... in fact, quite the opposite. There was no denying that the two of you were both extremely good at what you did. You were equally hardworking, equally determined to excel. If anything, that was part of the problem. Two strong personalities in one workplace rarely made for smooth collaboration.

The issue was that you and Jungkook barely saw eye to eye on certain matters. Whether it was strategies, execution, or even the smallest logistical details, there was always some point of contention that spiraled into an argument. It was as if the universe had specifically designed your opinions to clash with his.

And then there was his disgustingly unshakable confidence, the kind that made you want to roll your eyes so far back you could see the back of your mind. He carried himself with an air of smug assurance that made every interaction with him feel like a battle, one he always seemed convinced he was winning.

To make matters worse, he was also ridiculously attractive. It annoyed you to no end that someone who drove you up the wall could also make your stomach twist with just a glance.

His sharp jawline, perfectly styled hair, and those dark, piercing eyes seemed designed to undermine your ability to stay focused. And he knew it. Every smirk, every infuriatingly casual lean against your desk felt like he was taunting you, daring you to admit it.

But any time your thoughts veered into that dangerous territory, he’d open his mouth, say something infuriating, and all your annoyance would come rushing back, as strong as ever.

Of course, the office thrived on your interactions. The two of you were practically a live sitcom, providing endless entertainment for your coworkers. But sometimes, things got a little too intense, and someone would have to step in to calm you guys down.

Yet no amount of intervention could completely quash the fire that burned whenever you and Jungkook were in the same room. It wasn’t just rivalry... it was a war of egos, fueled by equal parts frustration and… something neither of you wanted to name.

The hallway feels smaller as the distance between you closes. Jungkook walks with an air of effortless confidence, his light blue dress shirt crisp and clean, the sleeves rolled up just enough to hint at his tattooed forearms. Over it, he’s wearing a dark blue sweater vest that adds a touch of casual sophistication, paired with black trousers. It’s annoyingly polished for someone who thrives on getting under your skin.

His dark hair is pushed back neatly, save for a single stray strand that rebelliously falls across his forehead. Despite his put-together appearance, the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is enough to spark irritation.

Mrs. Lee, oblivious to the silent war brewing between you, continues talking about her nephew.

You can’t help but think Jungkook must enjoy this little rivalry of yours. He certainly doesn’t miss an opportunity to challenge you, whether it’s in meetings, brainstorming sessions, or even during team lunches. You’re pretty sure his smugness comes factory-installed.

As you enter the meeting room, the irritation doesn’t subside. The long rectangular table is surrounded by your coworkers, with Mr. Cho seated at the head. You take a seat, only for Jungkook to take the one directly opposite you.

Great. Just great.

He catches your gaze across the table and raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to start something. You don’t take the bait, instead turning your attention to Mr. Cho, whose grin is wider than usual. He clasps his hands together, his eyes sweeping across the room.

“So, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called this meeting. This isn’t one of our regular check-ins.” he begins, pausing dramatically for effect. “I wanted to let you know about something exciting… our annual company holiday retreat!!!” he beams.

A murmur of enthusiasm ripples through the room. You take a deep breath, the announcement catching you a bit off guard. This will be your first time attending the retreat, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect.

Mr. Cho continues, his excitement palpable. “This year, we’ve decided to take things up a notch. The retreat will be held for a whole week at the Hanok Mountain Lodge, a luxurious resort nestled in the hills. It’s a stunning location with breathtaking views, cozy cabins, and plenty of activities to help us unwind and bond as a team.”

You glance around and notice your coworkers exchanging thrilled looks. Clearly, this retreat is a highlight for many of them. Mr. Cho goes on, describing the itinerary.

“There will be team-building workshops, outdoor activities like hiking and zip-lining, and of course, plenty of time to relax and enjoy the amenities. There’s also hot tubs, a spa, and for those of you who enjoy it, a private bar lounge. And let’s not forget our tradition... the talent show on the last evening!” He claps his hands together, clearly excited.

You shift in your seat, a mix of curiosity and apprehension bubbling within you. A mountain lodge retreat sounded idyllic, but the idea of spending extended time with Jungkook outside the professional setting wasn’t exactly thrilling.

Hoseok, seated beside you, nudges your arm gently. You glance at him, and his heart shaped smile instantly puts you at ease. “It’s your first time, right?” he asks, his tone soft but teasing. “Don’t worry, it’s going to be a lot of fun. They always plan these things really well.” he says. You smile back with a nod, grateful for the reassurance.

As Mr. Cho wraps up his briefing, your initial apprehension begins to fade, replaced by a tentative excitement. A luxurious mountain lodge retreat does sound like a dream... if you ignore the part where Jungkook would also be there.

//

It’s the day of the retreat, and the soft hues of dawn paint the sky as the company bus idles at the curb, its engine rumbling like a low purr. The bus is alive with chatter, a mix of excitement and sleepiness as everyone settles into their seats. Conversations flow freely, punctuated by laughter and the occasional clink of coffee thermoses.

You’re seated midway down the bus, comfortably beside Hoseok. He’s leaning slightly towards you, gesturing animatedly as he talks about the best hiking trails around the lodge. His voice carries a warmth that puts you at ease, and you find yourself nodding along, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you sip your coffee.

The bus door hisses open, and Jungkook steps in, dressed in a casual, perfect combination of a black hoodie and fitted jeans. His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he didn’t try but somehow still managed to look effortlessly good. His eyes scan the bus with practiced disinterest, sweeping over rows of coworkers until they suddenly land on you.

You, with your head tilted slightly towards Hoseok, a small laugh escaping as he finishes whatever he's saying. Hoseok's grin is wide as he teases you about something that Jungkook can't hear.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his posture stiffening. The sight is a familiar punch to the gut, a wave of something uncomfortably sharp and consuming. He can’t name it... doesn’t want to name it... but it churns in his stomach like an unwelcome storm. His grip on the strap of his bag tightens.

Every time this happens, he tell himself it's just irritation. After all, it’s not like he cares who you talk to. You’re just his rival, his constant thorn. But deep down, a crack forms in that reasoning, and he’s too stubborn to look any closer.

His gaze flickers away, quick and practiced, like an artist shading over a mistake. He moves down the aisle with a measured stride, ignoring the way his chest feels inexplicably heavy. His long legs carry him past your row, but not before his sharp ears catch the sound of your sweet laugh again. It grates against the knot forming in his chest, pulling tighter with every step.

Jungkook finally drops into a seat two rows behind you, tossing his bag onto the empty seat beside him. He slouches back, his head resting against the cold window. The faint vibrations of the bus barely register as he plugs in his headphones, choosing a random playlist in an effort to drown out his thoughts.

But the music doesn’t help. It doesn’t drown out the sound of your laugh or the way you seemed so at ease with Hoseok. And it certainly doesn’t ease the sting that came with seeing you look at someone else with that kind of attention.

He stares out the window, his reflection faint against the backdrop of the city streets rolling by. He tells himself, whatever he's feeling right now, it’s annoyance, irritation at your loud conversation, frustration at your inability to keep your voice down. But the truth creeps in, unwelcome and undeniable.

It unfortunately isn’t just irritation. It’s something deeper, something he refuses to acknowledge because acknowledging it would mean confronting feelings he’s buried under layers of rivalry and pride.

So he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as if that will banish the image of you and Hoseok from his mind. He’ll bury this feeling just like he does everything else, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter. That you don’t matter.

But even as the bus begins to move, carrying everyone towards the retreat, Jungkook’s thoughts stay rooted in the seat two rows ahead of him. And unfortunately, no amount of distraction can change that.

//

The sprawling mountain lodge looms ahead, its rustic charm blending seamlessly with the dark green peaks in the distance. You tug your suitcase behind you, the wheels skidding slightly on the cobblestone path leading into the cozy yet grand lobby.

The warm scent of cedarwood and faint spices greets you as you step inside, though it does little to ease the exhaustion weighing on your shoulders.

You sigh, rubbing your neck while Hoseok approaches the reception desk to sort out room assignments. Your gaze roams the space, marveling at the high ceilings adorned with wooden beams and the crackling fire in the massive stone fireplace. A few coworkers are scattered about, chatting in groups or eagerly collecting their keys.

At least everyone gets their own cabin for the retreat, a luxury you hadn’t expected. The thought brings a small sense of relief since you don’t have to worry about sharing space with anyone. You glance at Hoseok, who’s still sorting through paperwork with the receptionist, and shift your weight impatiently.

Suddenly, someone brushes past you, the sharp bump to your shoulder jolting you slightly off balance. You gasp, turning quickly, ready to unleash a tirade, only to freeze when you see who it is.

Jungkook. Of course.

His bag strap hangs loosely off one shoulder, his free hand gripping the handle of his sleek black suitcase. He doesn’t even look at you at first, his gaze fixed ahead, but the unmistakable smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s done. “Watch where you’re going, jerk.” you snap, glaring at him as you adjust your stance.

Finally, he turns to face you, one brow raised in mock amusement. His dark eyes glint mischievously as he takes a step closer, shrinking the space between you. “Me? Watch where I’m going?” he asks, his voice smooth but laced with condescension. “You’re the one standing in the middle of the way, completely zoned out.” he argues.

Your eyes narrow. “Excuse me for existing.” you bite back, crossing your arms. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy stomping around like you own the place, you wouldn’t go around slamming into people.” you add.

Jungkook chuckles, the sound low and irritatingly melodic. “Stomping? Dramatic much?” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel personal. “And for the record, if you can’t handle a little nudge, maybe you should stick to your cozy desk back at the office.” he chuckles.

Your glare sharpens, heat rising to your cheeks. “At least I don’t go out of my way to antagonize people every chance I get.” you retort, your tone matching his for intensity. He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Antagonize? That’s a big word for someone so easily rattled.” he grins.

You’re about to respond, the words teetering on the edge of your tongue, when Hoseok's voice cuts through the tension. “Uh, hey.” he says awkwardly, stepping between the two of you with an uncertain smile as he holds out your keycard. “Here’s your key. Sorry for the wait.” he says.

Jungkook steps back, his smirk faltering slightly as his gaze flickers briefly to Hoseok, then back to you. “Thanks, Hobi.” you say, your voice a little too tight as you grab the keycard from his outstretched hand.

He ignores the little pang in his chest and his smirk returns, adjusting his suitcase with an almost lazy confidence. “Enjoy your cabin, princess.” he quips, his tone laced with sarcasm and just enough smugness to make your blood boil. Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and strides off towards the cabins, his retreating figure exuding infuriating nonchalance.

You glare at his back, gripping your keycard so tightly it threatens to snap. “Ugh, I hate him.” you mutter under your breath, your frustration spilling out in a huff.

Hoseok, who’s been quietly observing the exchange, lets out a soft chuckle. “You sure about that?” he teases lightly, reaching down to grab your suitcase. “He seems to get under your skin pretty easily.” he says.

You narrow your eyes at him but don’t bother responding, knowing Hoseok’s teasing will only get worse if you try to deny it. Instead, you let out a long sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the warm, inviting surroundings of the lodge instead of Jungkook’s maddening smirk.

//

The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the mountain lodge bathed in a soft, dusky glow. The campfire in the center of the lawn crackles gently, sending sparks into the chilly night air.

Since it's the first night of the retreat, everyone is gathered around, wrapped in cozy sweaters and thick blankets, their laughter and conversation blending with the soothing sounds of the wilderness as they all try to free the tiredness from the journey.

You hug yourself tightly, relishing the warmth of your oversized sweater as you make your way towards the group. The flickering firelight dances across familiar faces, and your eyes briefly catch on Jungkook, seated off to the side, his attention fixed on his phone. His sharp profile is illuminated by the glow of the screen, but you quickly brush your gaze away, deciding to ignore him entirely.

Your eyes land on Hoseok, who waves you over with an easy smile and you instantly slip into the seat beside him. “Hey.” he greets warmly, his voice soft but welcoming over the crackle of the fire.

You smile back as you settle into the chair, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. “The bathrooms here are insane.” you say, your tone full of genuine awe. “I had the best shower ever. It felt like I was in a spa.”

Hoseok's smile never falters, as the two of slip into an easy conversation. His warm laughter and encouraging nods draw you in, and eventually, the campfire becomes a hub of chatter as everyone around takes turns to share random stories.

The crackling of the fire accompanies the easy flow of conversation, casting a cozy glow that makes the group feel like an extended family.

Suho begins, leaning forward with excitement as he recounts how he met his girlfriend at a concert. "I swear, it was like fate." he breathes out, grinning. "I dropped my ticket, and she picked it up. I thought I’d just thank her, but then we ended up talking the entire show." His story gets a round of amused chuckles and giggles.

Mr. Park dives into tales about his grandchildren. "These kids..." he says, shaking his head fondly. "They're way too smart for their own good. Last week, my grandson hacked into my phone to change my ringtone to a dog barking.... at the grocery store." The image sends everyone into peals of laughter.

Ryunjin jumps in next, sharing her cat’s latest antics. "He’s obsessed with his tail." she says, gesturing wildly. "But the problem is, every time he catches it, he gets mad, like he’s offended it’s attached to his body." Her exaggerated impressions of her cat has everyone laughing until their sides hurt.

As people continue talking, from his spot on the other side of the fire, Jungkook sits quietly. He barely pays attention to what his coworkers are saying because his gaze keeps flickering to you and Hoseok. He watches the way your face lights up when you laugh, the way you lean towards Hoseok to whisper something into his ear.

The sight twists something uncomfortably tight in Jungkook’s chest, though he stubbornly pushes the feeling aside. Why do I even care? he thinks, his jaw clenching slightly as he forces his attention back to whatever some random coworker is saying.

Yet, no matter how much he tells himself to look away, his eyes betray him. They keep drifting back to you, catching every smile, every laugh, every shared glance with Hoseok. A faint scowl forms on his face, though he tries to mask it.

As the night wears on, it's your turn to narrate a story as you explain a random incident about a hike you went on, way back in high school. "We were climbing this trail that was way steeper than the brochure let on." you say, gesturing animatedly. "And then my friend thought it’d be a great idea to race to the top. Long story short, we all ended up face-planting in the dirt halfway up."

The group laughs, but before you can continue, Mrs. Lee interjects, her voice cutting through the firelit circle like clockwork. “Y/N, dear...” she says with a conspiratorial grin. “All this talk about hikes makes me wonder… are you planning on taking someone special on one anytime soon?” she wiggles her eyebrows.

You freeze for a moment, the question hanging in the air. Hoseok stifles a chuckle beside you, leaning closer. “Here we go again.” he whispers.

Everyone’s attention turns to you, their curious eyes waiting for your response. You hate being the center of attention in conversations like this, but you manage to muster a polite smile. “I think I’ll be hiking solo for a while, Mrs. Lee.” you reply lightly, hoping to deflect her matchmaking attempts.

But before the conversation can move on, Minhyuk, a coworker from another team... notorious for his unwelcome advances and unwanted flirtatious attempts to pursue you, jumps in.

“Why solo when I’m right here?” he says, his grin annoyingly smug as he leans forward on his seat. “Y/N, you don’t need blind dates or solo adventures when you’ve got someone like me.” he smirks.

The group chuckles, though the reactions are a mix of genuine amusement and secondhand embarrassment. You glance at him, trying to suppress an eye-roll. “Thanks, Minhyuk.” you say, your voice tinged with forced politeness. “But I think I’m good.”

Hoseok smirks beside you. “Wow, that’s… subtle.” he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. The tension starts to build, the awkwardness settling in like an unwanted guest, but before anyone else can say anything, another voice cuts through the conversation, deep and commanding.

“She doesn’t need you, Minhyuk.” Jungkook suddenly says from across the fire. His tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes everyone sit up a little straighter. His gaze locks on Minhyuk, his expression unreadable. “Y/N’s already dating someone.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Heads swivel towards Jungkook, then towards you, expressions ranging from amused to utterly shocked. You blink at him, your brain scrambling to process what he just said. You’re dating someone? And you didn’t even know?

A mix of confusion and frustration floods your thoughts as you watch Jungkook from your seat, utterly bewildered. What the hell is he trying to pull?

Mrs. Lee, of course, is the first to recover. She clasps her hands together, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement. “Oh, my! Y/N, is this... is this true? So you won’t be hiking solo after all?” she teases, her tone light, but the curiosity in her gaze is anything but subtle.

Her words snap you out of your daze, and your first instinct is to deny it, to clear up the misunderstanding before things spiral even further. But as your lips part, Jungkook speaks again, his voice calm and steady.

“That’s right.” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smirk. “She’s all set. No blind dates, no solo hikes. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You whip your head towards him, your confusion now tinged with annoyance. His expression is maddeningly composed, as if this is all part of some elaborate plan you’re not privy to. He meets your gaze, and for a fleeting second, you catch a glimmer of something... something almost possessive, before it disappears behind his confident facade.

Hoseok shifts beside you, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Well...” he says under his breath. “This just got interesting.”

You glare at him briefly before turning back to Jungkook, your brain working overtime to decide whether to play along or call him out. All around you, the group buzzes with low murmurs and playful remarks, the campfire’s warm glow doing little to soothe the sudden heat rising to your cheeks.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Suho laughs, his tone light, as a few others nod eagerly, their curiosity piqued. All eyes are on you now, and you’re suddenly aware of how small your seat feels in the circle. You open your mouth to speak, to deny the entire thing and set the record straight, but Jungkook beats you to it. Again.

“I really didn’t expect the news to come out like this.” he says smoothly, his voice calm but carrying just enough emotion to sound sincere. His gaze sweeps over the group before landing back on you. “But we’ve been keeping it quiet for a while now.”

The reaction is immediate. A collective murmur ripples through the circle, voices tinged with shock and curiosity. Some are louder than others, people audibly gasping unable to hide the utter shock of this unexpected news.

You blink rapidly, your brain doing cartwheels trying to keep up with what’s happening. Quiet for a while? What is he even talking about? Your confusion turns to frustration, and you turn to Jungkook, but he’s already leaning back in his seat, wearing an expression so convincingly nonchalant that it makes your blood boil.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Minhyuk’s voice cuts through the murmurs, his tone laced with disbelief and annoyance. “Are you telling me Y/N’s been dating you this whole time?” He gestures vaguely towards Jungkook, his irritation barely concealed.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Jungkook replies, his voice steady and unbothered, as though the entire conversation is beneath him. He leans back casually, his hand resting on the arm of his chair, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that sound so surprising?”

The group collectively reacts, their wide-eyed expressions bouncing between disbelief and shock. And honestly? Fair, because who would believe it. The only form of interaction anyone’s ever witnessed between the two of you has been laced with sharp rivalry, sarcastic comments and deathly glares.

“The joke’s on us.” Mr. Cho interjects suddenly, his tone tinged with playful regret. “We’re the idiots for thinking they hated each other. All this time, these two lovebirds were up to something totally different.” he says as everyone agrees with him.

Your lips part, indignation rushing to the surface as you shake your head. “It’s not what it looks—”

“We just didn’t want to get caught.” Jungkook cuts in smoothly, completely ignoring your protest. His tone is measured, almost too casual, as if he’s rehearsed this. He glances at the group, offering a shrug. “It would’ve made things awkward, you know?”

To your complete and utter disbelief, the crowd buys it. They actually believe the crap he's saying. Heads nod in understanding, murmurs of agreement ripple around the fire. It’s the most ridiculous explanation you’ve ever heard, and yet they’re accepting it like it's the most normal thing ever.

Your scowl deepens as you glare at Jungkook, who doesn’t so much as glance your way. Instead, he’s perfectly composed, acting like this is all just another day in his life. Meanwhile, you’re left fuming, the crowd’s reactions only stoking your frustration.

“If everyone will excuse me... I need to have a word with my... boyfriend.” you finally manage to say, your voice laced with barely concealed irritation. The last word comes out sharper than you intend, carrying just enough edge to earn a chorus of hoots and teasing laughter from the group.

“Ohhh, someone’s in trouble!” Suho calls, while Mrs. Lee clasps her hands over her heart as if this is the most romantic thing she’s ever seen. You can feel the amused gazes burning into your back, but you refuse to look at anyone.

The crowd’s reactions only fuel your annoyance. You rise from your chair, your movements brisk. Jungkook barely has time to react as you stride over to him. Before he can say a single word, you grab his arm and tug him out of his chair with more force than necessary.

Without sparing him a glance, you drag him away from the fire, ignoring the whistles and giggles echoing behind you. Someone, probably Ryunjin, makes a half-joking comment about you two sneaking off to "make up" or something equally ridiculous, but you’re too annoyed to care.

The moment you’re far enough from the group, heading towards the cabins, you whirl around to face Jungkook, still gripping his arm. “What the hell was that?” you shriek, your voice seething with anger. "WE are dating? Really?"

Jungkook chuckles softly, his fingers gently prying your hands from his arm. “Relax, princess.” he says, his voice calm yet dripping with smugness. “I only said that to help you out.”

“Help me out?” you echo, stepping back dramatically with your arms crossed, your face twisting into mock surprise. “Wow, Jungkook, what a saint. Should I start kissing the ground you walk on now, or later?”

He smirks, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “That ass Minhyuk was clearly making you uncomfortable. I figured I’d step in before he turned the bonfire into his personal Y/N fan club.” he shrugs.

You open your mouth to retort but pause, your brows furrowing slightly. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong about Minhyuk being a creep, but still you let out an exasperated groan, your arms flailing. “Oh, please. I could’ve handled him just fine without your big rescue act.”

“Right.” he drawls, leaning lazily against the cabin wall, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Because your plan of glaring daggers at him and clenching your fists was totally working. I mean, nothing screams ‘back off’ like the homicidal vibe you were giving off.”

You glare at him, your lips pressed into a thin line. “And what makes you think I couldn’t have handled it? I literally told him I was good and that I didn't need him.”

“Oh, you did.” he agrees, a playful spark in his eyes. “But then you’d have Mrs. Lee trying to ‘mediate’ or whatever by trying to set you up on another one of her infamous blind dates. Admit it, I just saved you from weeks of awkwardness.”

You blink at him, caught off guard by how easily he brought Mrs. Lee into this. “Wait, so this whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing was just to dodge her matchmaking?” you question. “Well, partly.” he shrugs, tilting his head like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Figured you’d rather deal with me than spend another evening making small talk with some random accountant she thinks is your ‘perfect match.’ You’re welcome.” he grins.

You let out a scoff, crossing your arms again. “Oh, I see. So now you’re my knight in shining armor?” you arch a brow at him. “Finally, you get it.” His smirk grows.

“Shut up.” you snap, unable to stop the look of irritation on your face. “And for the record, I’d much rather deal with Mrs. Lee than this.” you add, gesturing the space between you.

“Really?” His voice takes on a teasing tone, and he steps closer, his gaze locking with yours. You try to ignore the way your heart is hammering in your chest and continue glaring into his eyes. “Then why are you so rattled, huh? Afraid you’ll actually fall for me or something?” he narrows his eyes, his smirk only growing.

You scoff, heat rising to your cheeks, but you refuse to let him see you falter. “Fall for you? In your dreams.” you bite back. “Ouch.” he says, clutching his chest dramatically like you’ve shot an arrow straight through his heart. “And here I thought you’d be grateful. This is how you repay me?”

“Grateful?” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Jungkook, I don’t think you understand. You just lied to everyone we know and made it sound like we’re madly in love or something.”

“Well…” His grin widens, that playful glint in his eyes sparking something unwelcome in your chest. “It’s not that hard to believe, is it?”

Your jaw drops, and you glare at him, incredulous. “Fuck, there's nothing like you... you are literally unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming.” he quips without missing a beat, his smirk downright infuriating now. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.” He nods as if he’s doing you a massive favor. “Fake boyfriend?” you echo, your voice an octave higher as your frustration bubbles over.

“Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand the gravity of the situation here? Everyone’s going to expect us to get along now. They’re going to expect us to act like a real couple. And with the way we are, they’ll figure out this isn’t real before this trip is even over. Do you realize how humiliating that will be?”

You wave your hands around animatedly as you ramble, the words spilling out in a frantic rush. Jungkook watches you with a maddeningly calm expression, arms crossed over his chest like he’s enjoying the show.

He chuckles again, that infuriatingly relaxed sound that makes you want to pull your hair out. “Oh, come on, Y/n. It’s not that bad. You get to hang out with me, look like the perfect couple, and keep Mrs. Lee and Minhyuk off your back. Sounds like a solid win for you.” he says with that signature cocky grin.

You scoff. "This is ridiculou—"

“And yet...” he interrupts smoothly. “You didn't deny it out there... in front of everyone. Makes me wonder if there’s a tiny part of you that doesn’t mind the idea.”

You open your mouth to retort, but no words come out. The sheer audacity of his statement has stolen your breath. He leans in slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “See?” he murmurs, his voice soft but teasing. “Speechless. I must be onto something.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to steady yourself. “You know what, I don’t even care anymore. You're responsible for this mess, so you deal with it.” you mutter, taking a deep breath to try and calm the storm brewing inside you. “I just want to enjoy this whole retreat in peace.”

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening just a fraction before he shrugs, as if this entire exchange is just a game. “Fine, fine. Peace it is. But you know...” he adds, his voice teasing but with a hint of something genuine, “It wouldn't hurt to enjoy it a little more with me. You know, since I’m your fake boyfriend and all.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his words send an unexpected flutter through you. “Don’t push it, Jeon.” you mutter, though the corner of your mouth twitches slightly, betraying the tiniest bit of amusement. You turn on your heel, ready to walk away from this conversation.

“Alright, alright.” he relents with a dramatic sigh, from behind you. “But remember, when you find yourself accidentally falling for me, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” he quips, quickly walking past you. You grumble to yourself as you watch him walk away, approaching the lawn where everyone's seated.

You have no idea what this retreat has in store for you, especially after the insane turn of events on just the first night. Jungkook, of all people, is supposed to be your fake boyfriend in the prying eyes of your coworkers. You're still processing the fact that you’re stuck with this ridiculous situation, and you have no idea how you're going to pull it off.

But, as much as you hate to admit it, there's a tiny part of you that feels... surprisingly... grateful. Grateful that, for once, you don’t have to deal with creeps like Minhyuk or relentless matchmakers like Mrs. Lee.

Sure, dealing with Jungkook might be a headache, but at least he's got this whole "fake boyfriend" thing down, and for the moment, he’s temporarily keeping the pressure off you. You can't help but feel a little bit of relief knowing you won’t have to dodge constant questions about your non-existent love life this entire trip.

And something about this new dynamic, has you questioning everything between the two of you.

//

Finally, the retreat kicks off the next morning, and the first activity is an early morning hike. The air is crisp and the excitement buzzes in the atmosphere. To make things more interesting, everyone's decided to pair up and whichever team is the first to reach the top, wins a medal and a small trophy.

As you stand at the base, fidgeting with your water bottle, you can’t help but wonder what kind of chaos this day might bring, especially considering the mess you’ve gotten yourself into with Jungkook.

You’re eagerly waiting for Hoseok to arrive, fully prepared to be his hiking partner, when suddenly you hear a voice behind you.

"Waiting for me?" Jungkook’s voice is laced with that familiar smugness, and when you turn, you see him leaning casually against a tree near you, his arms crossed. His signature smirk is in place, as if he knows something you don’t.

You roll your eyes, already feeling the irritation creeping in. "Please, I’m waiting for Hobi." you reply dismissively, trying to avoid his gaze.

Jungkook's heart twists at your words, but he hides it behind a playful mask. "Wouldn't it be weird if you're pairing up with someone other than your... boyfriend?" he says, his voice lowering slightly as he leans in closer. His words hang in the air, and you feel a strange hesitation ripple through you.

You freeze for a moment, realizing the truth in his statement. It would be weird especially considering, the weird situation he had put the both of you in last night.

After yesterday, the idea of pairing up with anyone else, especially with the whole team now thinking you and Jungkook are some love-struck couple, would look suspicious. And if you really want to make this whole fake boyfriend thing work, you’re going to have to keep up the act... at least for the sake of saving face.

Your mind races, weighing your options, but when you glance over at the others, you see the curious glances, the whispers starting to form, and you know you can’t back out now. With a reluctant sigh, you turn back to Jungkook.

"Fine." you say, rolling your eyes for effect, though a small part of you is resigned. "But don't get any weird ideas. This is just for the hike."

Jungkook’s grin widens, and his eyes gleam with that mischievous glint. "Of course, princess. No weird ideas." he teases, but the way he looks at you suggests there’s more to this than just the hike.

As you both walk towards the trail, the weight of the situation hits you. This is it, you're officially stuck with him for the duration of this retreat, whether you like it or not. But as you glance at Jungkook, his confident strides beside you, you realize there might be more to this pairing than just avoiding humiliation.

You quickly shake off any lingering thoughts and turn your focus to the hike ahead. The trail is steep, rocky, and not exactly beginner-friendly, but you��re determined to stay ahead of the pack. Each step is carefully calculated, your legs pushing through the exhaustion as you navigate the uneven terrain.

Jungkook, walking beside you, watches with an almost bemused expression. He notices the fierce concentration on your face, the way your brows furrow ever so slightly as you push yourself harder with each step. You’re not one to give up easily, and it’s kind of impressive.

"You really are something, huh?" he teases, his voice cutting through the wind. "Who knew you'd be so competitive." he asks, like he already doesn't know that about you, considering the heavy competition that always takes place between the two of you back at the office.

You glance at him, rolling your eyes. "I’m not competitive." you huff, focusing on your footing. "I just don’t want to lose, especially to people who think they can beat us."

Jungkook chuckles, but his eyes are still focused on you. “Uh-huh. Sure.” His tone is playful, but there's something a little softer in his gaze as he watches you stride forward, determined and focused.

With each step, your legs begin to burn, but you push through it. The air grows thinner as you make your way up the mountain, and soon, you notice that you and Jungkook have managed to pull ahead of the rest of the group. At some point, it’s just the two of you... no one else even in sight. You can’t help but feel a tiny surge of pride.

Jungkook, though, seems to be taking it all in stride, effortlessly keeping pace with you. “Looks like we’re in the lead.” he says with a grin, clearly enjoying the challenge.

Just as you’re about to reply, the trail gets more rugged. The rocks beneath your feet become looser, the path steeper, and suddenly, you lose your balance. Before you can even react, Jungkook reaches out, steadying you by grabbing your hand.

“Easy there, princess.” he teases, his fingers curling around yours with a casual yet firm grip, as though it’s second nature to him.

You try to ignore the warmth of his hand against yours, but the sensation lingers, a pulse of heat running up your arm. His hand fits perfectly with yours, and for a second, you forget about everything... about the hike, the competition, even the ridiculousness of the situation.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His expression is focused on the path ahead, but there’s a subtle glint in his eyes, something mischievous. He knows how much his touch is affecting you, and you know he’s enjoying it a little too much.

You’re so distracted by everything... his touch, the heat flooding your chest, the odd fluttering in your stomach... that you don’t even see the giant twig lying across the trail until it’s too late. One moment you’re walking, and the next, your foot catches it, sending you sprawling forward. You yelp as your knee slams into the rough ground, the pain sharp and immediate.

Jungkook is quick to react, his hand shooting out to steady you before you can fall further. “Shit!” he exclaims, his voice full of concern. He crouches beside you as you wince, glancing at your scraped knee. Blood begins to seep from the wound, the large scratch standing out against your skin, especially since you’re wearing a pair of biker shorts.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice more worried than you expected. He quickly helps you sit on a nearby rock, crouching in front of you. His eyes flicker to your knee, concern creasing his brows as he inspects the wound. “This is bad.” he murmurs, his tone low as he gently touches your calf to get a better look at the injury.

You feel the warmth of his fingers on your skin, and despite the pain in your knee, something inside you jolts at the tenderness of his touch. Your heart skips a beat, and you have to force yourself to look away.

His fingers are still holding your leg, and the proximity of his body makes everything seem so much more intense than it should be. The sensation of his hand on your calf feels too intimate, too personal, and it makes your pulse race in a way that leaves you breathless.

You shift uncomfortably, trying to pull your leg back a little, though it’s hard to concentrate with him so close. “I’m fine.” you try to brush him off, your voice almost shaky as you speak. “It’s just a scratch.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. His eyes remain fixed on the cut, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighs and looks up at you. “You sure about that?” he asks, his voice soft but filled with a quiet seriousness. “Because that looks pretty nasty to me.”

You shift again, trying to ignore the way his hand feels on your skin. “I said I’m fine.” you insist, though your voice lacks the usual conviction. The warmth of his hand on your leg is making it hard to focus on anything else.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, as if assessing whether to argue or just let it go. Finally, he pulls his hand away, and you breathe a little easier, though the air between you still feels weird.

Jungkook stands up straight, his gaze fixed on you for a moment longer than necessary. The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and a tension that neither of you seem to know how to break. He looks down at your knee again, his eyes softening with concern, but he doesn’t say anything.

He somehow hates seeing you hurt, and something about it bothers him more than he’d like to admit. But he doesn’t know how to express that without sounding too… weird. So, he stays silent, unsure of how to bridge the gap between his thoughts and actions.

You shift uncomfortably, feeling his eyes on you. Your own gaze flickers between him and the ground, avoiding his stare, unsure of what to say next. You both seem so caught in this strange limbo that the sudden sound of footsteps snapping you both out of your trance is almost a relief.

You both turn at the same time, just in time to see Ryunjin and Suho dart past you, laughing and shouting with reckless energy. "Later, losers!" they yell, their voices teasing as they zoom past, not even sparing a glance at you or Jungkook.

Before either of you can react, they’re already a good distance ahead, their teasing echoes fading into the distance. The moment feels absurd, and yet somehow, it breaks the tension that had been hanging between you and Jungkook. You both stay there for a second, staring after the rapidly disappearing pair, trying to process what just happened.

Jungkook lets out a dry laugh, breaking the quiet. “Well, that was... something.” he says. You can't help but chuckle too, the absurdity of it all making you shake your head. "Yeah, something." you reply, your voice light despite the situation.

Jungkook glances at you, a small, almost self-conscious grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Guess we better catch up, huh? Wouldn’t want to lose to them."

Without missing a beat, you push yourself to your feet, ignoring the burning sensation in your knee as if it’s nothing. The adrenaline of the competition quickly wipes away any lingering pain. You’re determined now, not just to make it to the top, but to beat Ryunjin and Suho.

You and Jungkook exchange a brief look, and without saying another word, you both grab each other’s hands and break into a run. The path ahead is rocky, but you’re not paying attention to anything other than the prize... victory. The cold mountain air fills your lungs as your feet pound against the uneven ground, each step propelling you forward.

Jungkook keeps his pace beside you, the sound of his breath in sync with yours as you both push yourselves harder. He offers a teasing grin now and then, his usual cocky demeanor back in full force, but you know he’s just as focused as you are on overtaking the pair ahead.

The climb becomes more intense, the sharp incline testing your endurance, but your legs keep moving. You’re so close to the top now, your eyes on Suho and Ryunjin, who are just a few feet ahead. Your heart races, not just from the physical exertion, but from the competitive energy that’s coursing between you and Jungkook.

For a split second, you almost think you’re going to overtake them. You push yourself harder, your hand gripping Jungkook’s tighter, your determination burning stronger than ever. But just as you reach the final stretch, you see Suho and Ryunjin cross the summit.

“No way !!” you groan, stopping just short of the top. Jungkook slows down next to you, panting, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the victorious pair. “They beat us just by a few seconds.” he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration. But as he turns to look at you, the playful glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Close, though. We almost had them.” he says.

You stand there for a moment, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, and then glance at him. “Yeah, well. Almost doesn’t count, does it?” you tease, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

Jungkook’s lips twitch upward, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something you can’t quite place. “Guess not.” he replies, but then his gaze softens, just a touch. “But we’ll definitely get them next time.”

The way he says next time... with such ease, almost like a promise, sends a strange feeling through you. It doesn’t sound like just another competition or a simple throwaway line. No, it’s more like a subtle invitation, an unspoken acknowledgment that this could be something to look forward to.

It’s not just the words themselves, but the way he says it, like there will be another chance for the two of you, paired together again, side by side. Like it’s not a one time thing, but the beginning of something that feels more… natural.

You swallow the sudden flutter in your chest, trying to focus on something else... something to push away the warmth spreading in your cheeks. It’s just a hike, just a little competition, you tell yourself, but the thought lingers.

Maybe it’s the rush of the moment, the adrenaline, or maybe it’s something about the way Jungkook looks at you now. Whatever it is, you can’t quite shake the feeling that next time won’t just be about winning.

“Yeah, next time.” you echo, your voice softer now, as if you’re both saying more than just the words.

//

Hoseok lounges casually on your bed, his head propped up on one arm as he watches you through the mirror as you do your skin care. "Guess you had fun on that hike, huh?" he says, a teasing glint in his eyes as he observes your focused movements.

You roll your eyes, not bothering to respond immediately. The sheet mask on your face makes it difficult to show any expression, but you can't hide the subtle irritation bubbling under the surface. Hoseok, ever the observant one, takes note of your silence and grins to himself, enjoying your discomfort in a way only he could.

“But actually though, how long are you two planning on keeping up this whole fake relationship thing?” he asks, with a casual tilt of his head. His voice is playful, but there's an undertone of genuine curiosity, as if he's waiting for some kind of confession.

You pause, your fingers freezing on the edges of the mask as his words sink in. The question lingers in the air, heavier than it first appeared. You let out a long, exasperated sigh, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. "I honestly don't know." you admit, the frustration evident in your tone. "This whole thing... it’s just such a ridiculous situation to be in. I didn’t even sign up for this, Hobi."

Your shoulders slump slightly as you drop your gaze, feeling the weight of the words you’ve just said. There’s no denying the absurdity of the situation, but even more unsettling is how easily you’ve been feeling ever since that hike got over.

"Honestly..." Hoseok starts, his voice tapering off, a hint of hesitance in his tone. "I just think... he might like you." he says. You snap your head towards him so fast that he bursts into laughter, pointing at your face. "Oh my god, the look! And with that sheet mask? Iconic." He doubles over, clutching his stomach.

"Please." You wave him off, narrowing your eyes even as you feel your cheeks heat beneath the mask. "That can’t be true." you deny, shaking your head, though his words settle in your chest like a pebble dropped into water, rippling outwards.

Hoseok leans forward, his laughter fading into a soft, knowing smile. “Think about it, Y/N.” He swings his legs off the bed and sits up straighter, his expression suddenly more serious. "Why would he randomly step in to ‘save’ you from Minhyuk and Mrs. Lee when none of it has anything to do with him? What’s he getting out of this whole... fake relationship?"

You open your mouth to argue but nothing comes out. His words sit heavy in the room, pressing against thoughts you’ve tried to avoid all day. Hoseok watches you intently, sensing your hesitation but giving you the space to think.

“I mean, according to me...” he continues, his voice steady but gentle. “The only thing he’s gaining... is your company. The opportunity to be around you, to talk to you, to..." He hesitates for a beat, then finishes with a meaningful look. "To get closer to you."

His words hang in the air, a truth you’re not sure you’re ready to face. Your fingers hover over your mask as you stare back at him, caught somewhere between disbelief and the slow, creeping realization that maybe... just maybe, he’s right.

//

Jungkook slips out of the shower, the warmth of the water still clinging to his skin as he slides into a pair of comfortable pajamas. The exhaustion of the long day settles in, and he collapses onto the bed with a soft sigh.

The cabin feels quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning, and as he stares up at the ceiling, his eyes blink slowly, each blink heavier than the last.

His thoughts begin to wander, as they often do, drifting towards you. He isn’t sure why, but lately, you seem to occupy a bigger space in his mind than he’d like to admit. He wonders what exactly he’s gotten himself into. The whole fake relationship thing, the way it all started... none of it makes sense to him.

But then he remembers the moment it all fell into place. The ridiculousness of it. The heat rising in him when he saw Minhyuk talking to you that way, too comfortable in his space, too persistent with his flirtations.

He didn’t plan to say anything in front of everyone, but something about the whole interaction made him snap. He blurted out the claim about you two dating, and even now, he’s not sure where it came from. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it probably wasn’t just about Minhyuk.

He thinks about the hike today. The way you worked together, the coordination, the unspoken understanding between you both as you made your way up the mountain. The way his stomach churned at the sight of you hurt. The way your hands brushed, then clasped. How your palm felt against his, soft and warm, so natural.

He tries to shake the memory, but it lingers, like the lingering heat of the sun on his skin after a long day. He had to act like it didn’t faze him, like the moment didn’t make his heart race a little faster, but in reality, it was the opposite. His whole body had reacted to the touch, to the proximity.

He lets out a soft groan and rolls over, burying his face in the pillow, willing the thoughts to go away. It’s just a fake relationship, right? So why does it feel like there’s so much more to it than that?

//

The second day of the retreat arrives with a buzz of excitement, and as everyone gathers in the main hall, Mr. Cho announces the day's event which is supposed to be a Photo Scavenger Hunt. It's another pair activity, and you know exactly who your partner will be. Refusing to team up with your fake boyfriend, Jungkook, would raise too many suspicions and be undeniably awkward.

Pairs are handed a checklist of photo prompts, each designed to challenge creativity and, more importantly, sell the illusion of a couple deeply in love. Age, gender, or real dynamics don’t matter, the goal is clear... convince the world you’re head over heels.

Jungkook snatches the prompt list before you can, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement.

“This is going to be so fun.” he declares, scanning the list. You fold your arms, a skeptical frown settling on your face. “I hate taking pictures.” you admit. “And we have to look like a couple deeply in love? How the hell are we supposed to pull that off?”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t be a baby about it. Let’s show these amateurs what a real couple looks like.” The irony of his statement doesn’t escape you. Pretending to be a real couple while knowing everything between your current dynamic is fake feels like some cosmic joke. It tugs at your heart in a way you don’t want to analyze.

Instead, you shift your focus to the task at hand as Jungkook reads the first prompt aloud. “Take a photo of something adventurous.” he announces, his excitement palpable.

The prompt leads you both to the resort’s outdoor obstacle course, where a rope bridge sways precariously over a shallow creek. “This looks adventurous enough.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the bridge. You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re joking, right? There's no way... I’m setting foot on that thing.” you say shaking your head.

He steps onto the first plank, the bridge creaking under his weight. Turning to you, he extends a hand, his confidence unwavering. “Just trust me.” he grins. You hesitate, glancing at his outstretched hand. Something about the steady way he looks at you makes your heart skip. Against your better judgment, you take his hand and step onto the bridge.

The journey across is a chaotic mix of laughter and shrieks as the bridge sways with every movement. You’re freaking the hell out, but somehow, Jungkook’s firm grip on your hand keeps you grounded. His teasing comments, however, do nothing to help calm your nerves.

Suddenly, the bridge sways a little too much, and you yelp in panic, instinctively inching closer to him and wrapping your arms around his torso, holding on for dear life. You close your eyes, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

“Relax!!!” Jungkook laughs, his voice laced with amusement, finding your current state of distress incredibly adorable. “You’re holding onto me like I’m the bridge.”

You bury your face in his chest, the heat of his body overwhelming, and you feel your heart racing in your chest. His laugh sends a jolt through you, but you manage to focus on the safety of his embrace. “Because I don’t trust this death trap!” you snap back, clinging tighter to him. “Don’t you dare let go.”

“Chill, I got you.” he reassures you, but his voice is teasing. “You’re literally holding me. I can’t let go even if I wanted to.” The way his words send a thrill through you catches you off guard, but you can't focus on that now, you're too busy gripping him like a lifeline.

He laughs again, and you feel his arms shift slightly as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Are you seriously taking a picture now?” you ask incredulously. “Gotta capture the terror on your face.” he says, his grin widening. “Besides, you’re hugging me. That’s pretty romantic if you ask me.”

Before you can reply, he angles his phone to fit both of you in the frame, holding it out with a cocky smile before clicking the picture.

As you still tightly clutch onto him, you peek at the phone as he lowers it. You burst into laughter when you see the picture, a chaotic snapshot of your panicked face, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, eyes wide in shock, but with a hint of a smile hidden in the corners. It’s a mess, but somehow cute. “See?” he says with a playful grin. “Adventurous and adorable.”

You and Jungkook continue breezing through prompt after prompt, and to your surprise, you're both working together seamlessly. The tension from earlier has melted away, replaced by an ease you didn't expect.

His teasing jokes, the way he makes goofy comments behind the camera before snapping a picture... it’s all so endearing. And every time he makes you laugh, you feel those familiar butterflies flutter in your chest, something light and genuine that you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time.

As you pose for yet another shot, your eyes meet his, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to disappear. You're not acting for a game anymore, not pretending for a prize. There's a softness between you now, a connection you hadn't realized you craved until you found it. You laugh, your eyes lighting up in a way that’s completely unguarded, and Jungkook can't help but watch you with a smile that matches your own.

He is somehow completely captivated by this version of you, the one without the sarcastic remarks, the biting humor, and the walls you usually keep up. The way you smile for the pictures, the way you compose yourself with such grace, it’s just too cute. The soft glow in your eyes when you’re not worried about anything, not keeping your distance, is something he’s never seen before. It feels so natural, so easy, and he loves it.

With every click of his camera, Jungkook is slowly realizing how much he enjoys seeing you like this... so at ease, so carefree. Even though the situation started as a fake relationship, he's surprised to find that it feels more real than he ever imagined. It feels... perfect.

There's no tension, no need for the sarcastic quips or the emotional distance you usually keep between you. Instead, it's just easy. He can simply be with you, in this moment, without any pretense. And the more he enjoys this connection, the more he wonders how long he can keep pretending that it isn’t something more.

For a brief moment, as he adjusts the camera, he catches you looking at him... a soft, knowing smile playing on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and for the first time in what feels like forever, his confidence falters. He quickly shakes off the feeling, focusing on the next shot, but the lingering warmth in his chest doesn’t go away. It’s there, quietly growing, and for a second, he wonders if maybe you can feel it too.

Soon enough, you reach the last prompt on the list. "Capture your partner with something beautiful." You read it aloud, and Jungkook's eyes light up like he’s found the perfect solution. He grabs your wrist, pulling you along with him, a determined glint in his eyes. “Follow me.” he says.

Without fully understanding where he’s leading you, you let him tug you along, and before long, you find yourself in the resort’s rose garden. You pause, taking in the breathtaking sight before you.

The garden is sprawling and lush, with rows of perfectly manicured bushes, each adorned with an array of vibrant roses in every imaginable colur… pale pinks, deep reds, and the most delicate whites.

The air is thick with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and butterflies flit from one blossom to the next, completing the serene picture. The sun casts a warm golden light, dappling the garden with soft shadows, making the whole place look like something out of a dream.

Jungkook releases your wrist, stepping back to admire you as you take in the surroundings. “How did you even find this place?” you ask, amused, turning to him with raised eyebrows.

He grins, clearly proud of himself. “I was just exploring early this morning.” he admits, brushing a hand through his hair. His gaze softens as he watches you, and it suddenly hits him... for the first time today, he doesn’t need to pose you, doesn’t need to direct you for a shot. Everything here feels perfect just the way it is. You, in this beautiful setting, naturally glowing and lost in the beauty of it all.

Without warning, Jungkook pulls out his phone and takes the first picture. And then another. And another. He’s capturing you... your expression, the way your eyes linger on the flowers, how the soft breeze plays with your hair. Each click feels more like he’s documenting something sacred, something delicate. You’re unaware of it at first, lost in the moment.

But as you turn, you notice him snapping away, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your own eyes widen in surprise. “Hey, you didn’t tell me you started clicking pictures!” you say, an involuntary pout forming on your lips.

Jungkook laughs, the sound deep and genuine. "It’s fine." he says, still grinning. "I got the perfect shots."

Your heart skips, your breath catching at the way he looks at you... like you’re the most beautiful thing in this whole garden, and the way his gaze lingers on you makes your chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. There's something so intimate in the way he sees you, something that makes you feel simultaneously vulnerable and cherished.

Now that all the prompts are done, you and Jungkook sit together on the lawn, reviewing the photos on his phone. The sun is beginning to set, casting a soft golden glow over the entire resort, and the air carries a calmness that makes the moment feel almost too perfect.

There’s a small laugh escaping your lips as you scroll past each photo, surprised at how natural you both look. The ones of you and him are the ones that stand out... your smiles feel real, and the carefree joy captured in each shot makes you wonder if, for a fleeting second, the line between pretending and reality might’ve blurred.

As your thumb scrolls past a particularly silly photo of him pulling a goofy face, your eyes linger on the images of yourself. There’s a softness to them... how your eyes shine, how your lips curve into a smile that isn’t forced. You can’t remember the last time you looked so... content.

Your gaze shifts to Jungkook in the rest of the photos, his relaxed posture, his playful grins, and the way he’s effortlessly good-looking in every frame.

But then, Jungkook stops you from scrolling, his finger gently pausing on one of the photos. Your heart stutters when you realize it’s a picture of you that he had taken in the rose garden, the soft wind lifting your hair, your eyes caught on a pink rose, lost in a moment of thought. T

he colors in the picture are so vivid... the soft pink of the rose, the delicate green leaves, and the way the light plays off the petals.

“This one.” Jungkook says quietly, his voice lower than usual. You glance at him, sensing a change in the air, an unspoken weight that hangs between you both. The way he says it almost sounds like a confession, but you’re unsure what it means.

You turn your attention back to the picture, your fingers unconsciously tightening around the phone as your heart begins to race. The photo seems so simple, yet there’s something undeniably intimate about it.

“This one’s my favorite.” he repeats, his eyes not leaving the screen, but you can feel his gaze shift to you, as if waiting for your reaction. The moment seems to stretch, and you swear the temperature of the air is now different.

You clear your throat, trying to steady yourself. “Uh... why?” you ask. Your voice feels small against the sudden heaviness of the moment, the question awkwardly leaving your lips. Your eyes drift to the picture again, but it’s hard to focus with the flutter in your chest.

Jungkook’s gaze softens, a quiet sincerity filling his eyes that makes your stomach do somersaults. “Because it’s... you.”

His words stay in the air, simple yet weighted, like a confession he hadn’t planned on making. And for the briefest moment, everything else falls away… the photos, the game, the fake relationship.

All you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you, the way he said it, as if it meant something deeper than just the photo. It feels like he’s seen something in you, something you haven’t even fully recognized in yourself.

You’re left speechless for a moment, unsure of how to respond. There’s a warmth spreading in your chest, a feeling that seems to fill every space between you and him, and for the first time, the reality of what’s happening between you two feels undeniable.

//

The third day of the retreat dawns with a calm, unstructured agenda, a welcome contrast to the competitive energy of the past two days. With nothing specific planned, you decide to spend your time with Hoseok, exploring the scenic surroundings and indulging in the retreat’s offerings.

By mid-afternoon, the two of you make your way to the spa for a personal massage. The atmosphere is serene, filled with the soft hum of calming music and the faint aroma of lavender.

As the tension melts away under the skilled hands of the masseuse, your thoughts wander, sifting through the events of the past few days. It’s a rare moment of clarity and introspection, and you allow yourself to simply breathe and reflect.

By the time you’re done, it’s nearly evening. You step out of the spa, still basking in the therapeutic aftereffects. Hoseok is waiting for you outside, leaning casually against a pillar, and his face lights up when he sees you stretching your neck with a satisfied sigh.

“That was amazing, wasn’t it?” he asks with a grin, and you hum in agreement, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Totally. I feel like a whole new person.” you reply, rolling your shoulders and relishing the weightlessness in your muscles.

Hoseok chuckles before his tone shifts slightly. “Anyway, I’m gonna go hang out with Suho and Mr. Cho for a bit if you don’t mind.” he says, his voice tinged with a trace of guilt. You shake your head immediately, offering him a reassuring smile. “Of course, Hobi. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just chill near the cabins or take a stroll. Go, have fun!”

His expression softens at your easygoing response. “You sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll see you later.” you say, giving him a small wave as he turns to leave. As you watch Hoseok walk away, a peculiar sense of contentment settles within you, something you can’t quite place but feel nonetheless. The day has unfolded in a way you didn’t anticipate, leaving you more at peace than you expected.

You make your way back to your cabin, eager to change into something more comfortable. Slipping into a soft, flowing dress that cascades gently against your legs, you find it strikes the perfect balance between relaxation and elegance.

Stepping out of your cabin, ready to roam aimlessly through the quiet grounds, you suddenly catch sight of Jungkook approaching from the opposite end of the corridor.

"Well, hello there, girlfriend." he teases, his voice laced with playful sarcasm as a mischievous wink follows. With measured confidence, he closes the distance between you, his smirk never faltering, leaving you to wonder if there's more behind his words than the usual banter.

You feel an involuntary tug at the corners of your mouth, but you quickly mask it by rolling your eyes. "Jeon." you greet him flatly as you close the door behind you. “You look lonely.” Jungkook teases, his tone soft.

You open your mouth to retort, but he beats you to it. “Wanna go for a walk?” His words come out almost too casually, but there’s a spark in his eyes, an invitation you can’t quite ignore.

As you glance around at your coworkers scattered about near by, you realize that declining might raise more suspicion than agreeing. It’s a harmless walk, nothing more, nothing less. And, perhaps you tell yourself, it could make the whole fake relationship thing a little more believable.

But a part of you thinks all these reasonings are just yet another reason to cover up what you're actually feeling. You hesitate for only a moment, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “Sure.” you answer.

The surprise in Jungkook’s eyes is fleeting, but it’s there... his brows lifting slightly at your unexpected compliance. He quickly masks it with a grin, but there’s something unspoken between you now, a shift in the air that neither of you acknowledges aloud. Without another word, he gestures for you to follow, and you do, your steps in sync as you head out into the cool evening.

As you walk side by side, the air between you feels strangely light, almost serene. Jungkook exhales softly, his voice breaking the silence as if testing the waters. "So, how was your day?" he asks, his tone gentle but curious.

"Good." you respond with a simple, soft smile, but you find yourself wanting to offer more, to bridge the gap between the two of you. "I got a massage at the spa. It was incredible." you add, your smile deepening as the memory lingers. The soothing sensation still radiates from your body, and the thought of it gives you a sense of peace.

Jungkook nods, taking in your words with quiet interest. His gaze briefly shifts to you, and something flickers in his eyes. The evening sun bathes your face in a warm, golden light, the soft rays catching in your hair, making it shimmer ever so slightly in the breeze.

For a second, Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, his thoughts scattered as a sudden, fleeting realization tugs at him. Have you always been this beautiful? But he quickly suppresses it, trying to act unaffected.

"I played badminton with a few of the guys." he says instead, his voice now carrying a touch of nonchalance, as if dismissing the fleeting moment. He averts his gaze, not quite able to look you in the eye for too long, especially when you're looking so breathtaking.

You hum softly, your attention still lingering on his words, though a small part of your mind is distracted by the strange tension that's begun to build. It’s a new, unfamiliar feeling... this conversation with him, so unexpectedly civil, so effortlessly simple, without the usual sharp edges that have always defined your interactions. It feels almost too easy.

As you walk beside him, your knuckles brush against his ever so lightly, a momentary touch that sends a ripple of electricity up your arm. You pause, your thoughts suddenly a jumble. Should I pull my hand away? you wonder. Should I cross my arms, keep a distance?

But before you can decide, Jungkook's hand finds yours. His fingers slip between yours with an ease that catches you off guard, as though it’s something he’s done a hundred times before.

For a split second, everything around you blurs, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you freeze. The warmth of his touch spreads through you like wildfire, an overwhelming wave of sensations that makes your pulse quicken.

Somehow, this is a million times more different compared to yesterday or the day before. You glance at him, your expression caught somewhere between confusion and something else you can't quite place.

But before you can even open your mouth to question him, Jungkook glances down at your joined hands, his voice a hushed murmur. "Mr. Park and Minhyuk are looking." he says, his words almost inaudible in the quiet evening, yet laden with a sudden urgency.

Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of the situation settling over you with sudden clarity. Of course, you think bitterly. It was all part of the act, a simple move to maintain the facade, to avoid suspicion. The thought feels like a cold rush, and you can’t quite understand why it makes your heart sink just a little.

As your mind swirls, Hoseok’s words from the day before yesterday echo in your head, the ones that made you question the dynamics of this entire charade.

Why is Jungkook even doing this? What is he even getting out of it? you wonder. His actions feel so carefully measured, so deliberate, but now, standing beside him, you can’t help but feel like there’s more to it than just playing along for appearances.

And then, as your thoughts tumble over each other, another question surfaces... one you can’t shake. Why is he worried about being caught? You glance at Jungkook, his face turned slightly away, eyes still focused on the path ahead, his hand still holding yours. He hasn’t loosened his grip, but there’s a tension in the way he holds on, as though it’s more than just a practical gesture.

The thought lingers, unanswered, hanging between you like a whispered secret. The more you try to push it away, the more the question claws at you, refusing to be ignored.

As much as you try to convince yourself that this is just a show, a performance, a simple arrangement between two people caught in an absurd situation, a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s more at play here... something deeper, more complicated, something neither of you are ready to face.

//

The next day arrives quickly, the sun shining brightly and casting a warm, golden glow over the retreat grounds. You find yourself standing in the doorway of the large kitchen, anticipation bubbling in your chest.

As you wait for the day’s activity to begin, your thoughts drift to Jungkook, and a soft smile graces your lips. The past three days with him have been unexpectedly delightful and you feel like your heart has been beating differently… and the desire to see him, to be near him is gradually increasing minute by minute.

Today, the schedule has a bake-off on the list, a lighthearted yet competitive event. But this time, to your surprise, there's a slight twist... you don’t get to choose your partner.

Instead, Mr. Cho will be picking out the names from a hat, ensuring that everyone interacts with someone new instead of just sticking with familiar faces. Jungkook already gets paired up with Hoseok and a part of you falters, sad that he won’t be your partner for this activity.

The anticipation in the room builds as Mr. Cho starts calling out the names. Your heart skips a beat when you hear your name being paired with none other than Min Yoongi.

Min Yoongi was a fellow coworker from another team and a part of you is thankful it’s him and not some random stranger. You’ve worked with him a few times before, and while you’ve always admired his quiet charm, today you’re both in for an unexpected challenge. Yoongi has always been sweet and approachable, his gummy smile and laid-back nature endearing to everyone around him.

As you walk over to your station, Yoongi stands beside you, looking a little uncertain. He glances at the array of ingredients and sighs. “I’ve never baked before.” he admits, his tone a mix of amusement and apprehension.

You can’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree. “Same here.” you say with a playful grin, turning to face him. “Guess we’re both in for an adventure today.” The words come easily, and something about the situation feels oddly comforting.

Meanwhile, a few counters away, Jungkook stands next to Hoseok. If he wasn’t already irritated by the fact that he was being paired with someone he absolutely cannot stand, considering how Hoseok being your close friend has always annoyed him, the sight of you working so easily with someone else... some other man... has his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

He clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing as you and Yoongi chat easily, the two of you laughing and navigating your baking station with light-hearted banter. Every glance in your direction feels like a reminder that things are not as simple as they should be.

Yoongi’s soft laugh cuts through his thoughts, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a pang of something he refuses to acknowledge. It’s like the universe is conspiring against him today, forcing him to witness you grow closer to someone else, and it makes him feel something he can’t quite place.

The tension in his chest tightens, but he pushes it down, trying to focus on his own station. He can’t let himself get distracted by this, even though the thought of you mingling with another man gnaws at him, just under the surface.

Ignoring the crushing weight in his chest, Jungkook forces himself to focus on the task at hand, settling into a rhythm with Hoseok. Surprisingly, Hoseok proves to be a cooperative partner, and they manage to work efficiently, though their conversations are sparse and purely functional.

Around them, the kitchen hums with energy... clattering bowls, bursts of laughter, and the sound of Mr. Cho’s voice as he strolls by to observe everyone’s progress.

Jungkook tries to keep his head down, but his resolve falters as his gaze drifts, almost involuntarily, to your station. You’re with Yoongi, and the sight is just undeniably painful. The two of you are laughing, the kind of laughter that feels unrestrained and easy, and Jungkook feels something bitter rise in his chest.

His eyes narrow as Yoongi leans closer to you, smirking as he says something that makes you giggle. Then Yoongi suddenly blows a puff of flour in your direction, his grin widening when you squeal and lift your hands in a futile attempt to block it. “Yoongi!” you exclaim, laughing as you swipe the powder off your cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” Yoongi replies smoothly, dusting off his hands with a wink.

Jungkook glares, his grip on the mixing bowl tightening. Look at this grown-ass man making a mess, he thinks bitterly. But he knows it’s not about the flour or the mess, it’s about the easy camaraderie between the two of you, the playful way Yoongi leans into your space as you try to whisk the cream.

“You know...” Yoongi drawls, leaning casually on the counter as you measure the sugar. “You’re pretty good at this. Maybe we should open a bakery together. I’ll be the charming face of the business, and you can do all the work.”

You snort, nudging him with your elbow. Yoongi has always been like this, with all the occasional comments and jokes. “Oh, so I do the heavy lifting while you stand around and smile? Sounds like a solid partnership.” you playfully roll your eyes.

“Exactly.” he replies with a mock-serious nod. Then his tone shifts, dipping into something playfully flirtatious. “Or, better yet, we could skip the bakery and just bake together... at my place.”

Your eyes widen slightly before you burst into laughter, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.” you say. “I’m practical.” Yoongi retorts with a shrug. “Besides, if you ever get tired of Jungkook, you know where to find me.” he jokes and even you know that he doesn't really mean that because you're somewhat used to his harmless, meaningless flirting.

As far as you've observed, he's like this with everyone, but the man standing a few counters behind you doesn't know that and his jaw tightens as he overhears the conversation.

He glares at Yoongi, his eyes narrowing into slits as his chest tightens uncomfortably. If she ever gets tired of me? Please. The laughter at your station contrasts sharply with the strained silence at his own, and Jungkook struggles to quell the sour taste in his mouth. He stirs the batter with unnecessary vigor, trying to block out the image of you with someone else.

“Are you trying to murder the batter?” Hoseok’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Jungkook blinks and realizes he’s been whisking too hard, the mixture splattered slightly around the edges. “Just... making sure it’s mixed properly.” he mutters, brushing off Hoseok’s raised brow.

Hoseok shakes his head, muttering something about misplaced aggression, but Jungkook doesn’t hear it. His eyes are already back on you, unable to look away even as it irritates him to no end.

“Oh, please.” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning. “As if I’d ever pick you. You’d probably just make me do all the work anyway.” you say, passing him the bowl so that he can make sure the batter's smoothly mixed.

“Not true.” Yoongi says, feigning offense. “I’d let you taste-test everything too. See? Equal partnership.” he smiles. Your laughter rings out again, light and carefree, and Jungkook feels like he’s losing his mind. It’s not just the banter, or the way Yoongi’s grin stretches wide... it’s the way you respond to him, the way you look genuinely happy.

//

Eventually, the bake-off wraps up, and to everyone’s surprise, Mr. Park and another coworker, Wonho, win the contest. Their cake is a masterpiece, elegantly designed with intricate icing patterns that scream perfection.

You figure it’s mostly Wonho’s expertise in the decorative details, given his reputation for being particular about aesthetics. The room erupts into cheers and applause as they pose proudly with their winning cake.

You smile to yourself, genuinely happy for them, but the mess on your hands and clothes pulls your focus. Flour is smeared across your arms and streaked on your dress, and you can feel the sticky remnants of batter clinging to your fingers. Without wasting another moment, you slip out of the bustling kitchen, eager to return to your cabin for a much-needed cleanup.

As you head down the hall, your eyes catch sight of Jungkook leaning casually against the wall. His head is tilted down, eyes glued to his phone, but the sharp furrow of his brows and the tight line of his jaw betray his mood. He looks annoyed, maybe even angry.

For a moment, you hesitate. Should you approach him? Was his frustration because of the bake-off? Maybe he’s upset about not winning. You take a deep breath, deciding there’s no harm in greeting him. “Hey.” you say softly as you come to a stop a few feet away from him.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker towards you for the briefest second before returning to his screen. He doesn’t say anything, his fingers continuing to scroll, his expression unreadable but cold. The blatant dismissal catches you off guard. You clear your throat, attempting to brush off the sting of his indifference. “Jungkook?” you say again, your voice firmer this time.

Still, nothing.

The silence stretches, and unease begins to creep in. These past three days of the retreat, you guys had been civil, even managing moments of genuine connection. It had felt like a breakthrough, a tentative truce that hinted at something lighter, something easier. And yet, here he was, shutting you out without reason.

You shift on your feet, your confidence faltering slightly as you wonder if you’ve done something to upset him. “What’s up with you?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral, though the undercurrent of irritation is hard to hide.

This time, Jungkook finally looks up. His dark eyes meet yours, and for a fleeting moment, there’s something softer in them... something almost vulnerable. But just as quickly, that familiar wall slams back into place. “Nothing.” he mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Nothing?” you echo, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve been standing here, with your face looking like you just lost a million dollars, but sure, ‘nothing.’”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “Why don’t you just go back to Yoongi, Y/N? Stop bothering me.” he snaps. Your head tilts in surprise, amusement flickering briefly in your expression at the mention of Yoongi’s name. “Excuse me?” you ask, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, go back to him. Looks like you were having quite the time back in there.” Jungkook scoffs, looking away as his jaw tightens. Your amusement quickly shifts to irritation as you process his words. “Why do you even care?” you challenge, your tone sharp now.

“I don’t care.” he fires back almost immediately, his voice a little too quick, a little too defensive. “Oh really?” you ask, stepping closer as you narrow your eyes at him. “I just think it’s funny." he continues, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. “How you’re flirting with some other guy when I’m right here.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening slightly as if realizing what he’s just said. He quickly scrambles to cover it up, clearing his throat and speaking again, this time with forced nonchalance. “I mean, am I not your fake boyfriend? What are people going to think if they see you flirting with someone else?”

You blink at him, your irritation momentarily replaced by astonishment at the bizarre leap in logic. “Are you serious right now?” you ask, a dry laugh escaping you. “You’re worried about what people are going to think? Or are you just... I don't know?? Jealous, Jungkook?”

“I’m not jealous.” he snaps, his voice rising slightly, the defensiveness sharp in the air. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Good question.” you fire back, your tone heavy with sarcasm. “Why should you be jealous? Last time I checked, you’re not my real boyfriend.” Your words come out sharper than you intend, slicing through the tension between you.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens as he glares at you, his lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you watch as something flickers in his eyes, something silent, something that feels like hurt.

Even though you know what you said is the truth, there’s a pang of guilt in your chest. His expression softens just enough to make you second-guess yourself, and for a second, you wonder if maybe you shouldn't have said what you said.

He exhales slowly, the sound heavy with frustration and something else you can’t quite place. “Right.” he finally says, his voice quieter now, more measured. His arms cross over his chest, but the posture doesn’t feel defensive, it feels like he’s holding himself together. “I’m not your real boyfriend.”

The way he echoes your words, so pointedly yet almost resigned, sends a ripple of unease through you. There’s something about the way he looks at you now, something that feels raw and unguarded, and it makes your stomach twist.

For a moment, the silence stretches between you, heavy with everything neither of you is saying. You want to say something... anything, to break the tension, to take back the sting of your words. But nothing comes.

Instead, Jungkook steps back, his gaze lingering on you for just a second longer before he turns away. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Y/n.” he says, his tone light but his words weighted with something deeper. And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you standing there with the echo of your own voice ringing in your ears and a sinking feeling in your chest.

//

"I just don’t get it.” you groan, throwing your head back against the pillow in Hoseok's cabin, the ceiling above blurring as your thoughts churn. “Why is this happening? Why is he like this?” you question, recalling the earlier interaction between you and Jungkook.

Hoseok, sitting cross-legged on the floor, is surrounded by the chaos of his half-packed suitcase as he tries to find a nice outfit for tomorrow. He folds a T-shirt with an exaggerated patience, glancing up at you with an amused smile. “Come on, Y/N. It’s obvious.” he breathes out.

“What’s obvious?” you ask, your tone laced with frustration. Hoseok sighs dramatically, as if your cluelessness is physically exhausting for him. “He’s jealous.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring at him with furrowed brows. Even you had thought of this particular scenario, but you still question, acting clueless. “Jealous? Of what?”

Hoseok leans back on his hands, a grin tugging at his lips. “Of Yoongi, obviously. You should’ve seen the way he was glaring at the two of you during the bake-off. He was gripping the mixing bowl like it was the only thing keeping him attached to reality. I was literally expecting him to snap it in half.” he jokes.

A disbelieving laugh escapes you, but the weight of Hoseok’s words lingers. “That’s actually ridiculous. Why would he be jealous? We’re not even… I mean…” You trail off, the words “fake dating” sitting heavy in your throat.

“You tell me.” Hoseok says, shrugging as he picks up another shirt. “But it’s pretty clear to anyone with eyes that he was seconds away from combusting every time Yoongi even smiled at you.” he says.

You flop back against the pillow, covering your face with your hands. “This is so infuriating.” you grumble, your voice muffled. “Why does it even matter? It’s not like this whole fake boyfriend thing is real. It’s all just some stupid charade. And now… this... this unnecessary drama. It’s just messing with my mind.” you complain.

Hoseok is quiet for a moment, letting your words hang in the air before he speaks again. His tone is softer now. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You lower your hands slowly, turning your head to look at him. “What is it?” you question. He hesitates, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Do you... feel something for him?” he asks. The question hits you like a jolt, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Do you?

Your mind races, retracing the tangled threads of your feelings for Jungkook. The way your heart skips when he looks at you just a little too long, the way his rare moments of softness make your chest tighten.

The truth, you realize, is that these feelings aren’t entirely new. They’ve always been there, lurking beneath the surface. Even back at the office, behind all the snarky remarks and the constant bickering, you wanted his attention. You wanted to know him, to get closer to him.

But somehow, the easiest way to stay on his radar had been to antagonize him, to get under his skin. It was safer than admitting how you really felt.

Showing vulnerability to Jungkook felt like handing him a loaded weapon, giving him the upper hand, and that was something your pride wouldn’t allow. The realization settles over you, heavy and unavoidable. You’ve always felt something for him, haven’t you?

Finally, you take a deep breath, the words feeling heavy as they leave your lips. “I… I don’t know.” you mutter. Hoseok watches you closely, his expression softening. “Well...” he says, a small, knowing smile on his lips. “Maybe it’s time to figure it out. Because, Y/n, from where I’m standing, it’s pretty clear that he definitely feels something for you.”

His words settle over you like a weight you’re not ready to carry. You sit up abruptly, the tension in your chest too much to ignore. “I’m going for a walk.” you suddenly announce, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and heading towards the door of Hoseok’s cabin. “I need to clear my mind.”

Hoseok watches you with a soft smile, his hands pausing mid-fold. “Take your time.” he says gently, his tone laced with understanding.

You glance back at him briefly, catching the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but you’re too preoccupied to comment on it. There’s too much swirling in your head... Jungkook’s piercing stare, his infuriating words, the way these past few days have been so... good with him, the knot of emotions you’ve been trying to untangle since this whole fake dating arrangement began.

Hoseok chuckles softly as you open the door, his voice light but warm. “Don’t think too hard, Y/N. Sometimes the answer is way simpler than you think.” you hear him say as you take a moment to let his words sink in before closing the door.

//

Jungkook paces across his cabin, each step mirroring the storm brewing in his chest. The memory of your heated exchange claws at him, replaying over and over like a broken record. He feels suffocated by his own frustration, a tightness in his chest that refuses to let go. Why had he let himself snap at you like that? Why couldn’t he control himself when it mattered the most?

Seeing you with Yoongi had been a punch to the gut. He hated the way it made him feel so small, so envious, so... desperate. He hated that it wasn’t him making you laugh, teasing you until you blushed, earning that bright, genuine smile that lit up your face. Instead, he was stuck in his own head, too consumed by his emotions to step up and be the person he wanted to be for you.

His jaw clenches as the questions pile up, each one heavier than the last. Why wasn’t he the one by your side, making you happy? Why was Yoongi so easily able to draw you in when Jungkook himself always seemed to stumble and just make you mad?

His stomach churns with the realization that his feelings for you are far more complicated than he’s willing to admit. The guilt gnaws at him, sharp and unrelenting. He knows he crossed a line.

You’d approached him, likely with the intention of being nice and talking to him since he looked annoyed, and instead of meeting you halfway, he’d lashed out, letting his jealousy dictate his words. Bringing up Yoongi had been petty and uncalled for, and he hates himself for it.

Jungkook exhales shakily, dragging a hand through his hair. He feels the weight of the unease coursing through his veins, and it’s unbearable. He can’t sit here and let things fester. Not when he’s spent the past few days realizing how much your dynamic is shifting... how much he’s shifting.

Without another thought, he grabs his jacket, slipping it on as he strides to the door. The crisp night air hits his face as he steps outside, but it does little to cool the turmoil within him. He doesn’t know what exactly he’ll say to you when he finds you, but he knows he has to try.

Because the idea of letting things revert back to what you guys once were feels unbearable. He doesn’t want to go back to being the guy who only got your attention through arguments and war of words. He doesn’t want to ruin whatever this fragile, tentative thing between you is turning into.

Jungkook shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, determination fueling his every step. He knows he owes you an apology and more than that, he owes you honesty. He just hopes he hasn’t already pushed you too far away.

As he crosses the quiet, dew-kissed lawn, his steps falter when he suddenly spots you. There you are, sitting alone on a weathered bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the lamplight. The cool night air wraps around you as you gaze out into the vast expanse of the dark sky, your eyes tracing the faint silhouettes of the mountains in the distance.

He stops in his tracks, his chest tightening at the sight of you. Even from a distance, he notices the way your teeth gently tug at your lower lip, a habit he’s come to recognize when you’re lost in thought. There’s a stillness about you, a kind of quiet vulnerability that makes something in him ache.

Jungkook exhales slowly, preparing himself. His feet carry him forward before his mind can overthink it. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, his nerves tangling tighter with each step. When he’s close enough to be heard but not startle you, he clears his throat softly. "Hey." he says, his voice gentler than he’d expected, almost unsure.

You glance up, your expression briefly startled before your features seem to soften. You don’t say anything immediately, and he hesitates, wondering if you’re going to ask him to leave. But you don’t... you just watch him, waiting for him to speak.

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, his gaze dropping momentarily before he forces himself to look at you again. His expression is uncharacteristically soft, a vulnerability shining through. "I just... I just wanted to say I'm sorry." he begins, his voice low but steady. "For earlier. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was out of line."

You don’t respond immediately, your eyes studying his face as the weight of his apology lingers between you. For a moment, all you can hear is the faint hum of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves in the night breeze.

With a quiet sigh, you scoot over slightly on the bench, offering him a silent invitation. Jungkook hesitates for half a second before sitting down beside you, leaving just enough space to feel the tension in the air.

His eyes drift to the mountains, dark silhouettes against the star-speckled sky, mirroring the turmoil in his mind. "I don’t know why I said it." he admits after a pause, frustration evident in his tone. "I guess... I just couldn’t stand seeing you with Yoongi like that. It got to me."

You let his words settle, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. "But it shouldn’t get to you, Jungkook." you reply, your voice quieter than you intended. "We’re... we’re not together. I don’t want things to get complicated between us." You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it harder to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Protecting yourself feels like the only option… you can’t risk letting him see how this fake relationship has started to feel real to you. It’s safer to pretend otherwise.

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, but you see his hands clench slightly, resting on his knees. Your words cut deeper than you realize. The phrase not together grates on him, leaving an ache in his chest he doesn’t know how to ease.

He wants to tell you how wrong you are, how much he wishes this whole thing was real, but something about the way you said it makes him falter. Maybe you don’t feel the same way, and he’s just fooling himself.

“I know I shouldn’t have pulled you into something like this.” he finally says, his voice softer now, almost resigned. You glance at him, noticing the conflicted expression on his face, but before you can reply, your gaze shifts past him to a figure lurking in the distance.

Mrs. Lee stands a few feet away, partially hidden by the shadows, her head tilted slightly, clearly trying to catch the tail end of your ongoing conversation. Her posture screams suspicion, and your stomach twists in panic. You don’t think, you just act.

“I know this whole fake relatio—” Jungkook starts, but you cut him off abruptly, leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

The kiss isn’t calculated or delicate, it’s instinctual, an impulsive move to shut him up before Mrs. Lee hears something she shouldn’t. Your lips are warm against his, though neither of you move.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening as his brain scrambles to catch up with what just happened. His heart hammers so loudly in his chest he’s certain you can hear it. For a second, the world tilts, his thoughts spinning in chaos.

But before he can even process it, you’re already pulling away. Your eyes dart past him, scanning the distance where Mrs. Lee once stood. You exhale softly when you realize she’s no longer there, most likely walking off with her suspicions unsatisfied.

“Fuck… that was... that was close.” you murmur, the words slipping out in a breathless whisper as your gaze finally locks with his. Your tone is almost too calm, too casual, as if the kiss hadn’t just turned his whole world upside down.

Jungkook just stares at you, his expression frozen in stunned disbelief, his lips still parted as if he’s trying to catch the remnants of something fleeting.

“What?” he mutters, the single word heavy with confusion and something raw. You exhale shakily, the weight of the moment crashing down on you as you realize the line you just crossed.

“I’m so sorry.” you begin, your voice faltering under his unwavering stare. “Mrs. Lee… she was eavesdropping. She was going to find out about us if you kept talking.” You explain.

His features shift instantly, the softness in his eyes hardening into something unreadable. It’s like watching a storm gather on the horizon, his emotions swirling, barely contained. You can almost see the exact moment realization hits him, the slight flinch in his jaw, the way his shoulders tense as the revelation bleeds into hurt.

“That’s… that’s why you kissed me?” His voice is low, trembling with disbelief and something sharper, something you can’t quite name. Your stomach twists with guilt, the weight of your actions clawing at you. “I mean… yeah.” you admit reluctantly. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

The darkness in his eyes deepens, his brows knitting together as a bitter laugh escapes him. It’s a sound so uncharacteristic, so hollow, it sends a pang through your chest. “So it wasn’t because you wanted to. It was just to keep the… act alive.”

The accusation in his tone slices through you, leaving a sting you can’t ignore. You reach for words, for anything to soften the blow, but he’s already moving, standing abruptly from the bench. His hand rakes through his hair, the motion restless and frustrated.

“Got it.” he mutters, his voice clipped, barely restrained as he starts striding away. “Jungkook, wait—” you call after him, scrambling to your feet, trying to grab his arm.

He whirls around so suddenly, the force of his movement makes you instinctively step back, the air thickening between you in an instant. His eyes are wild, blazing with frustration, but beneath it, there's a rawness, a vulnerability that cuts through everything else.

"No, Y/n !!" he snaps, his voice so sharp it feels like it could slice the air between you. "One minute you're telling me how you don't want things to get complicated, and the next, you're..." he gestures between you, his hand trembling slightly. "You're kissing me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

“I panicked!” you retort, your voice coming out ragged, barely holding onto control. You feel your heart pounding in your throat. “Mrs. Lee was about to find out, and I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t have a choice!”

His steps are measured, each one bringing him closer, his presence overwhelming, his energy suffocating. “You always have a choice.” he spits, his voice low but carrying a venom that stings deeper than any physical wound. “Don’t act like you did this for me. You did it because you were too terrified to face the consequences. That’s the truth, isn’t it?”

The accusation hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his words, and something in you snaps. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady, but the anger bubbling inside threatens to break free. “What do you want me to say, Jungkook?” you bite out, each word coming harder than the last. “That I wanted to kiss you? That I enjoyed it? Would that make you feel better?”

He scoffs, the sound bitter and cold, and it hits deeper than anything he’s said so far. "Don’t twist this around on me." His gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing with intensity. “You can’t just cross a line like that and pretend it means nothing. You don’t get to do that. You can’t just—"

“And what about you?” you fire back, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt, a sharp edge to your words now. “You’re the one who pulled me into this whole fake relationship to begin with… and now you’re mad because I’m going along with it? I’m sorry but this is on you, Jungkook!”

“On me?” His voice rises again, incredulity dripping from every syllable. “You could’ve stopped it at any time. The first night, the first second I lied to everyone… you could’ve told the truth. But you didn’t. You stayed silent. Like I said, you always have a choice.”

His words crash into you like a tidal wave, leaving you momentarily stunned. The anger and guilt mix into a swirling, suffocating knot in your chest. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. All you can feel is the sting of his words, and suddenly, you're fighting back, voice louder than before.

“Oh, please, Jungkook! I would’ve denied it if you hadn’t been constantly talking over me, pushing me to the corner. It was like you didn’t want me to deny it. So what the hell was I supposed to do?” You’re breathing heavily now, every word like a battle, your body trembling with the energy of it.

He stares at you for a moment, his chest heaving with each breath, his face still etched with fury, but there’s something else there now… a flicker of realization in his eyes, a shift that you can’t quite understand.

You speak again, the words coming out in a rushed, frantic burst. “Why did you even say it? What was the poi—"

“I couldn’t fucking stand Minhyuk flirting with you !!” His voice is rough, desperate, like he's been holding this back for far too long. The intensity of his confession strikes you like a thunderclap, and for a moment, you're too stunned to react.

Before you can say anything, he continues, voice raw with frustration. “If that creep wasn’t enough already, Mrs. Lee was going to set you up on another one of her stupid blind dates, and I couldn’t just stand there and let it happen. I couldn’t..."

You can hear the crack in his voice, the raw emotion bubbling over like a dam about to break. It’s like all the months of built-up frustration and unspoken feelings are crashing down on you all at once, and you’re struggling to keep your footing. “It doesn’t make sense, Jungkook.” you start, your words trembling. “Why does it bother you so much—”

“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU, DAMN IT!!” He cuts you off again, but this time, his voice doesn’t crack with anger, it’s louder, firmer, like it’s the last thing he’ll say before everything changes. The words explode from his chest, raw and unguarded, and they hit you like a physical blow. They hang in the air, suspended in time, and the ringing silence that follows is deafening. The weight of what he’s just said presses down on you, suffocating, unrelenting.

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you don’t know whether to speak, to run, to stay frozen in place, because the words he’s said are far heavier than anything you ever expected. He looks at you, his chest rising and falling, and after what feels like an eternity, he exhales a long, shuddering breath.

“There…” he murmurs, his voice softer now, but still edged with the intensity of what he’d just confessed. “There… you have it. I like you, Y/N. And just the thought of you with anyone else... it drives me crazy.”

The quietness that follows is unbearable, like everything around you has come to a grinding halt. All you can do is stand there, stunned, the truth of his words echoing in your mind, your heart pounding in your chest. He takes a step back, running a hand down his face as if trying to calm himself. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter.

“I came here to apologize to you tonight…” he begins, his voice trembling with a raw vulnerability that feels like a blade twisting inside your chest. “Because I thought… I thought we were finally moving past all those childish fights and pointless arguments. I thought…” His voice falters, a breath catching in his throat as he exhales shakily. “I thought I was developing something real with you.”

The weight of his words presses into you, splitting you open in ways you didn’t think were possible. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes. The guilt, the truth, the mess you’ve made… everything hangs between you like an immovable barrier.

“I thought that throughout this retreat, I got to see so many more sides of you…” he continues, his words punctuated by a bitter laugh. “I thought I was getting closer to you, but I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong… because this is all just… a stupid fucking act to you.” His hand runs through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves.

There’s a long, agonizing silence, thick and heavy, before he speaks again. His words are quieter, but they slice through the stillness. “You know what…” He suddenly pauses, looking away as if he’s trying to find a shred of clarity in the chaos. “You’re right. Maybe… maybe it was my fault after all. Getting into this stupid arrangement… What the hell was I even thinking?”

A bitter laugh escapes him then, hollow and dry, as he presses his lips together in a thin line. His gaze drifts upward to the dark sky, his eyes glistening with unshed emotion, the weight of everything he’s holding back palpable in the air. “Let’s just... pretend this… never fucking happened.” His words pass through you, sharp and final, and for a moment, your breath catches in your throat.

You stand frozen, watching him turn away, each step he takes away from you feels like an echo in your chest. He walks farther and farther away, his figure slowly shrinking in the distance, and with each step, the world around you grows colder, more suffocating.

//

The next two days pass by in a blur, a haze of confusion and regret that clouds your every thought. Jungkook avoids you like the plague, and it's impossible not to notice the way he keeps his distance in group settings, his eyes carefully avoiding yours whenever they happen to meet.

You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as if everyone around you can sense something is off, but you're too wrapped up in your own head to care. Let them gossip. Let them wonder. It’s the least of your worries.

All you can think about is him. His words, his voice, the rawness in his confession. It replays over and over in your mind, and no matter how much you try to push it away, it lingers like a wound that won't heal. You're mad at yourself for letting things spiral this far, for letting it all get so out of hand. You should've said something, you tell yourself, but the truth is, you were terrified.

You still remember that night... the way your heart pounded in your chest when he confessed, how badly you wanted to tell him that you felt the same, that the shift hadn't been lost on you either. You wanted to tell him that this whole thing hadn't been a game for you, that your feelings had started to change, that you had started to care. But the look in his eyes, the vexation in his voice, it all stopped you from saying a single word.

In that moment, you froze. His frustration was palpable, and all you could do was stand there, staring at him, caught in the grip of everything he was throwing at you. His anger, his confusion, it filled the space between you like an impenetrable wall. You couldn't even find the courage to fight back, to tell him how much you had started to feel for him too. All you could do was listen to his words, to the weight of what he was saying, and let the silence stretch on longer than you ever intended.

And now here you are, stuck in this limbo, neither moving forward nor back, just existing in this awkward, painful space where every glance, every silence, feels like a reminder of what you couldn't say. You hate that he’s avoiding you, hate that you’re both walking around each other like ghosts in the same room, but you’re equally terrified of confronting it all head-on. What if he doesn't feel the same anymore? What if he regrets what he said?

You want to go to him, to break this silence, to tell him everything you should have said that night. But you're not sure if you can bear the weight of the possibility that he might not want to hear it. So instead, you keep your distance, the quiet ache of unspoken words building inside you, while everything around you continues to move in ways you no longer understand.

You remain in your cabin, the sound of laughter and chatter from outside barely registering in your mind as everyone else gets ready for the very last event of this retreat, the talent show.

The air around you feels thick, suffocating, as the buzz of excitement from your coworkers echoes through your cabin. But you don't care. You have no intention of participating, no desire to join in their festivities. The thought of putting on a smile, of pretending to be fine, feels exhausting. Instead, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself, cocooning yourself in the isolation you've come to crave.

You try to sleep, to let the darkness of the room envelop you and quiet the chaos inside your mind, but sleep feels elusive. Every time you close your eyes, your thoughts race back to him... his sharp words, the way he looked at you when he confessed, how he walked away as though nothing between you had ever mattered. The way he’s avoiding you now, as though you were a stranger he could never quite bring himself to face.

The thought of facing him again, of enduring another evening where he looks at you and then proceeds to ignore your very existence, is unbearable. You can’t take it. The coldness in his gaze, the way he acts like you’re nothing, like you’re invisible... it hurts in a way you hadn’t expected. You thought you could keep your feelings hidden, that you could keep pretending this was all just part of the act, but now, it’s all too real. It’s suffocating, and you’re left with nothing but the emptiness inside.

So you stay in your cabin, away from it all, away from him. All you want is for the world to quiet down, for the pain to stop, for the feeling of being ignored and invisible to disappear. But all you’re left with is the silence and the emptiness, a stark reminder that sometimes, it’s easier to hide than to face what’s right in front of you.

When you’re still trying hard to sleep, you hear a knock on the door. “Y/n, I’m coming in.” It’s Hoseok, but you don’t answer anything, remaining rooted to your position. He’s the only one who’s aware of your current situation, so he’s giving you all the space you need. “Hey…” he softly says as the door opens and his head peeks inside. “The talent show is starting in a bit. You sure you don’t want to watch?” he asks. You remain quiet, hoping your silence is able to convey your answer. Hoseok sighs softly. “Well if you change your mind, I’ll be outside okay?” And just like that you hear the door click close, leaving you and your thoughts alone all over again.

The clock’s ticking grows louder as the evening stretches on, the music and cheers from the arena outside only serving to remind you of your isolation. You sigh, the weight of your feelings pressing against you. Maybe staying in isn’t helping. Maybe stepping out will offer you the distraction you desperately need.

With a quiet resolution, you slip on your sweater over your dress, trying to smooth your hair into some semblance of order. Your face feels empty, but you don’t have the energy to care. You step out slowly, your eyes instinctively drawn to the bustling arena in front of you. The crowd, the music, the laughter... it’s all happening so effortlessly around you.

You make your way over, crossing your arms and leaning against a nearby pillar. Suho is performing a magic act on stage, his tricks capturing the crowd's attention and their gasps of wonder. You watch, a soft smile forming despite yourself, the momentary distraction soothing some of the tension in your chest. It’s nice, you think, to see others enjoying themselves, even if you feel a world away from it all.

As Suho finishes his act, you feel the lightness of the atmosphere begin to seep in, and for a moment, you start to forget about everything weighing on your mind. But then, Mr. Park’s voice rings out across the arena, breaking your moment of peace.

“And next... we have Jeon Jungkook, and he’s going to sing a song for us!!”

A wave of surprise floods through you, but you can’t tear your eyes away as Jungkook steps onto the stage and the crowd instantly cheers for him. He’s wearing an oversized sweater and jeans, looking effortlessly casual but somehow more captivating than ever. His smile is small but sincere as he faces the crowd, and the lights around the stage shift, casting a soft, dreamy glow on him.

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him, your chest tightening with something you can’t quite place. You know you shouldn’t feel this way, but the pull of his presence is undeniable. He doesn’t seem to notice you, too focused on the audience, but then the background music begins to play.

And you instantly recognize the song.

Your heart stumbles in your chest as the words hit you, sharp and tender all at once. You’ve heard this song before, countless times, but now… now it’s different. Every note seems to pull at something inside you, something you were fighting to keep buried. His voice is smooth, soft like honey, but there’s a rawness in it now, an emotion that you can’t ignore.

He closes his eyes as he sings, lost in the music, and for a moment, it’s as though the world around you has melted away. All that remains is him, his voice, and the lyrics that seem to cut right through you.

I gave you everything, baby, everything I had to give Girl, why would you push me away? Yeah Lost in confusion, like an illusion You know I'm used to making your day

The familiar words feel like they’ve been written just for this moment, for you. His voice carries the weight of the past, the bitter present between you two. And somehow, as he sings, it feels like he’s telling a story… the story of you both, wrapped in the lines of this song.

But that is the past now, we didn't last now I guess that this is meant to be Tell me, was it worth it? We were so perfect But, baby, I just want you to see

The words linger in the air, heavy with emotion, and your heart cracks with every line. The memories flash in your mind… every moment you shared, every smile, every laugh. But there’s a bitter sweetness in it too, a reminder of what was lost.

There's nothing like us There's nothing like you and me Together through the storm

And then, as if the universe itself has shifted, you feel it. His gaze. It lands on you from across the stage, and for a split second, it feels like the world stops spinning. He doesn’t break his gaze, his eyes steady on yours, but there’s something different now. Something raw. He’s still singing, but now it feels like every word is meant for you.

His voice, still gentle but filled with so much emotion, seems to wrap around you, pulling you into a world where only the two of you exist. The crowd fades away, and all that matters is the connection between you two… his gaze, his voice, his presence. You try to breathe, but it feels like the air has thickened. The way he sings… There's nothing like us, echo in your chest, resonating with a truth that both stings and soothes at the same time.

The moment stretches, heavy and thick, until it feels almost unbearable. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t break eye contact. He just keeps singing, as though the song itself is a confession, a bridge between what you were and what you could have been.

Once Jungkook steps off the stage, you rush back to your cabin, slamming the door behind you. You lean against it, your breath shallow and uneven. Slowly, you sink to the floor, your head falling onto your knees as the floodgates open. The tears come in waves, as if everything you've been holding in is finally breaking free. The pain in your chest is so sharp, so intense, that it almost feels like you can't breathe.

How did it all come to this? Why does it hurt so much? The confusion, the longing, the heartbreak... they all seem to crash down on you at once, overwhelming and relentless. You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in the ache, but you sob until your throat burns and your body trembles. Each sob feels like it’s tearing you apart.

You sit there, motionless, your head still resting on your knees, hugging yourself as if trying to hold onto something, anything. But nothing feels like it makes sense. You feel lost, like you're stranded in the middle of nowhere with no idea how to escape this unbearable pain that seems to consume you.

And just when you think you might drown in the silence of your own grief, you hear a knock on the door. “Y/n? You asleep?” It’s Hoseok again. You sigh, your chest heavy, and rise to your feet. You wipe your face hastily, but it’s no use. The tears are still there, still fresh. You turn and open the door, bracing yourself for whatever he might say.

“Oh… hey.” Hoseok says, but his voice catches when he sees your tear-streaked face. His eyes widen with concern. “Oh my god, Y/n… are you okay?”

You sniffle, your gaze falling to the floor as you shake your head, unable to speak, the weight of everything too much. It’s all it takes for Hoseok to step inside and pull you into his arms. You don't resist. His embrace is warm, safe, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself sink into it, allowing the tears to fall once more. And this time, you don’t have to be alone in it.

Hoseok's voice is soft, but his words carry weight as he helps you to the edge of your bed, his arms steady and comforting around you as he sits down with you. He doesn't say anything at first, just holds you gently, allowing the silence to stretch between you two.

"I thought I’d check up on you since the talent show just got over." Hoseok finally speaks, his voice low and steady. He pauses for a moment, his hand gently stroking your hair. "I didn’t expect to find you in this state."

You don't say anything, still wrapped up in his embrace, unsure of how to answer. His words seem to echo in the quiet room, but you don’t know what to say. You feel like you're drowning, and yet all you can do is sit there, letting the tears subside, one breath at a time.

"Y/n…" Hoseok whispers your name, his voice filled with concern. He doesn’t push for an answer right away, giving you the space to simply exist in the comfort of his arms. But then, he continues, his voice carrying a soft but steady note of advice. "I know it hurts right now, but you can’t keep burying this inside. You’re only going to keep hurting yourself that way."

His words are gentle, but they cut deep. You remain still, not ready to face what he's saying, but somehow, you know he's right. You're just scared, scared of the vulnerability, the fear of rejection.

"You should try talking to Jungkook." Hoseok says softly. "Even if he’s not ready to listen, even if it feels like he won’t understand, it’s still worth a shot. You deserve to let him know how you feel."

You flinch at the mention of Jungkook’s name, the thought of approaching him so raw, so vulnerable, makes your chest tighten. But Hoseok isn’t done.

"Y/n, liking someone, falling in love... it’s never wrong. You can’t control how you feel, and you don’t have to hide it because it scares you. Love is messy, it’s imperfect, but it’s not something to be ashamed of. You deserve to be honest, even if it’s hard."

A quiet sob escapes your lips, and Hoseok tightens his hold on you, not in a way that suffocates you, but with the warmth of someone who truly cares. Hoseok’s words sink in, each one cutting through the fog in your mind. As he holds you, stroking your hair gently, something inside of you shifts. His gentle advice, though simple, sparks a fire you didn’t even know was there. You feel a stir deep within you, a sudden surge of clarity that pushes aside the fear and doubt.

You deserve to be honest, even if it’s hard. The words echo in your mind, over and over, like a mantra. And for the first time in what feels like forever, something inside of you stirs something powerful, something real.

You pull away from Hoseok slightly, your face still wet with tears but your heart feeling a little lighter. You take a deep breath, the weight in your chest now feeling more like anticipation than dread.

“I have to go.” you murmur to Hoseok, your voice shaking but determined. Hoseok looks at you, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. "Are… are you sure?"

You don’t answer at first, just look at him, eyes wide with sudden resolve. “I’m going to talk to him. I can’t keep running away from this.” Without another word, you stand up, the suddenness of it all making your head spin. Your feet move on their own accord, each step purposeful as you cross the room. Hoseok watches, his eyes full of silent support.

As you step out of your cabin, the empty arena and stage immediately catch your attention. Chairs are scattered about, and you scan the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jungkook. Your feet start moving almost instinctively, the desire to find him overwhelming. You make your way to his cabin, but there's no response. A small part of you wonders if he’s ignoring you, but you push the thought aside, continuing your search around the resort grounds.

You check the rope bridge, wander through the rose garden, even visit the familiar bench where you once sat together, but there’s no sign of him. Your chest tightens, your heart thumping painfully with each turn, each empty corner. Desperation settles in as you run your fingers through your hair, trying to steady yourself.

And then, finally, you see him.

There he is, sitting in the hot tub, his back turned to you. You freeze in place for a moment, your eyes tracing the outline of his broad shoulders. His elbows rest casually on the rim of the tub, the soft steam rising from the water around him. He doesn’t seem to notice you standing behind him, your presence unnoticed in the quiet night.

For a long while, you just watch him, the sound of the water bubbling softly filling the silence between you. You feel a strange sense of both relief and anxiety. You’ve found him, but the distance between you feels insurmountable. He doesn’t know you’re here, doesn’t know the storm brewing in your chest.

You take a deep breath, mustering every ounce of courage you can find. Without saying a word, you step forward, your heart hammering in your chest. Each step feels heavier than the last, and your hands grip the fabric of your dress, the tightness in your fists mirroring the anxiety bubbling inside you.

When you’re only a few feet away, you can’t hold back anymore. “Jungkook…” you call out, your voice trembling ever so slightly as it cuts through the soft sounds of the bubbling water.

His body stiffens instantly. The tense shift of his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You watch his back, his head slightly bowed, as if he’s trying to ignore your presence. The air between you thickens, the tension palpable as the sound of the water swirls around you, drowning out everything else.

You stand there, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. The silence stretches on, thick and uncomfortable, the sound of the bubbling water in the hot tub louder than your racing thoughts. Your hands tremble slightly, and your heart beats erratically as the words you're holding in fight to escape.

"Jungkook…" you call out again, your voice wavering, almost a desperate whisper. It feels like you’re trying to hold a thousand emotions together, but they’re spilling out of you, unstoppable. "I… I don’t even know where to begin, but I need you to hear me out... I really... really need you to just give me a chance... to explain myself."

The air around you feels thick, suffocating, as if your very breath is tangled with everything unsaid. You can see him still not turning to face you, his back a wall, his silence deafening.

A pang of frustration courses through you, but beneath it, there’s something even more powerful... a deep longing, a desperate yearning. You’ve never felt this exposed, yet this desperate to make him understand.

With hesitant steps, you move around the edge of the hot tub, reaching the other side where you can finally see his face, heart racing in your chest as you inch closer. The blue light from the tub spills over the rim, casting soft shadows on his face, making his features seem almost ethereal.

The water ripples, reflecting fragments of his skin, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath. He’s looking down, eyes shadowed, and his tongue absentmindedly tracing the piercings on his lip.

The sight of him, so close yet so distant, breaks something inside you. You swallow, fighting to keep the emotions in check, but it's no use. The tears that you’ve been holding back finally fall freely, slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts to keep them in.

You take another shaky breath and walk a little closer, your heart pounding louder with every step, until you’re at the very edge of the hot tub. You hesitantly take a seat on the wet rim, opposite to where he's standing in the water. You can feel the warm steam of the boiling water near you, and a sigh escapes your lips as your gaze shifts to him again.

With trembling hands, you wipe away the fresh stream of tears, but they only seem to flow faster, as if your heart itself is breaking and you can no longer hold it together. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice falters, cracking with emotion.

"Are you… really going to ignore me?" you ask, the words feeling like cold metal against your tongue. The tremor in your voice betrays every ounce of control you’ve desperately tried to hold on to. It’s like the weight of your emotions spills out in that single sentence, and Jungkook, as if sensing the raw vulnerability in your tone, finally looks up. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to stop.

The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words. His gaze, deep and intense, softens, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes... something like regret, guilt, perhaps even pain, as he takes in the sight of your tear-streaked face. His gaze flicks over the intricate trails of tears on your cheeks, each one a silent testament to the weight you’ve been carrying.

He doesn’t speak immediately, and for a second, you wonder if he’ll turn away again. But instead, he remains still, his expression unreadable yet so undeniably affected. Realizing this is your chance to finally speak, you begin.

"I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything that happened. I never meant for it to turn out like this. I… I was so scared… scared of how things had suddenly changed between us. But, Jungkook, I—" Your voice falters, and a sob escapes before you can stop it. You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat, but the tears continue to fall, relentless.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his chest when he sees the tears streaming down your face. It’s like a punch to the gut, and he feels it deep within himself. At that moment, he realizes just how much he despises seeing you cry, how every tear you shed breaks him in ways he can’t even put into words. He doesn’t want to see you like this... not hurt, not broken.

He swallows hard, his throat tight as guilt floods through him. The past two days have been an absolute nightmare for him. After confessing his feelings in the most chaotic, confusing way possible, all he could do was push you away, though every part of him screamed to reach out. Ignoring you was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but in a twisted way, he convinced himself it was the only way to deal with everything that had changed between you two.

He thought it would make things easier, but instead, it only twisted the knife deeper, making him feel more lost than ever. You were the only person he wanted to talk to, the only person who could make him feel whole again and yet, ironically, you were also the one person he felt he couldn’t face.

His elbows shift off the rim of the hot tub, and with slow and steady steps inside the warm water, he makes his way towards the other end of the tub where you’re seated on the rim. "Hey..." he calls out softly, but you just can’t stop crying. The words he wants to say seem to get caught in his throat, as if he’s afraid to say the wrong thing, yet helpless to remain silent.

He rests his palms on the rim, right behind you, as you remain hunched, your face buried in your hands. You don’t acknowledge his presence immediately, still consumed by the storm of emotion inside you.

Before he can say another word, you're speaking again, your voice shaky and broken, each word heavy with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back. "You don’t know how much it hurts, seeing you like this, seeing you… push me away when all I want is... to talk to you... to... to be with you." Your voice cracks as you try to gather yourself, but the tears just won’t stop.

"I’ve been holding this in for so long, because I thought if I kept quiet, things would get better, but they haven’t. They never will, unless I say this…" The silence that follows is suffocating, the words hanging in the air between you, raw and unfiltered. Jungkook’s expression softens, his gaze flickering with something almost unreadable, but the guilt is clear.

He watches you carefully, unable to tear his eyes away as you continue to break open before him. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t try to stop the flow of your confession. He knows, in this moment, that the only thing he can do is listen, because no matter how hard it is to hear, you need to speak your truth.

You take another shaky breath, finally moving your hands away from your face as you turn to look at him. He’s so much more closer now as he looks up at you from the hot tub.

"I care about you… I care about you so much, Jungkook. I think I’ve always cared, even when I didn’t know how to show it. And now, all I can do is watch you drift away, and I hate it. I hate how I made you think that I didn’t feel the same… that I didn’t want this. But I do. I want us.... and I so badly wanted our fake relationship to be… to be real.”

The sobs start coming again, stronger this time, making it harder to get the words out. "I like you. I like you so much. And it hurts to see you looking at me like I’m a stranger when all I’ve wanted was for you to understand that you mean so much more to me... you're not... not my rival.. not my enemy..."

You stop for a moment, trying to gather yourself. The weight of everything you’ve been holding in crashes over you like a wave, but you continue, your voice breaking as you speak. "I’m sorry if this is too much, if I’m saying all the wrong things, but I just… I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t stand this distance between us… especially knowing I’m the reason behind it. Please just… forgive me. It was never just an act to me… I swear."

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, your trembling fingers only making the tears blur more. Your stomach churns with the overwhelming weight of everything you’ve just poured out. The silence that follows feels like it stretches for miles, too heavy to bear, and you can't bring yourself to look at him.

Your eyes stay lowered, afraid to see the disappointment or confusion that you might find in his gaze. Afraid of the silence that might follow your confession.

But then, you feel a warmth against your back... his hand, gentle but firm, resting there. It startles you, but you don't move. He doesn't say anything, but you feel his presence growing stronger as he slowly guides your body to face him, carefully moving you on the rim of the hot tub.

Your legs dip into the water, the warmth of it momentarily soothing the aching in your chest, but the heat of the moment, the proximity between you and Jungkook, is all consuming.

You look down at him, still unsure of what’s happening, but then you feel him tug you forward, ever so gently, until your body slips off the rim and is immersed in the boiling water. The warmth of the water seems to fade in comparison to the heat that’s building between you both.

Your heart races, a thousand thoughts swirling in your head, but the moment you feel his hands settle around your waist, your breath catches. He’s holding you, steadying you, inching you closer until you’re completely within his space.

Your mind spins as you try to process what’s happening. You can’t decide if you should pull away or lean into him, but the way he holds you…so carefully, yet with a quiet urgency, makes you stay. The water bubbles around you both, but the world around you feels so distant. It’s just him and you in this moment. You try to steady your breathing, but the knot in your chest only tightens.

"Jungkook..." you whisper, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. His gaze softens, his small smile lingering as he listens, his gaze never leaving your face. His eyes twitch and his heart breaks as he notices the tears on your cheeks, but finally being in this moment has him feeling lighter.

He lets out a light laugh, his tone shifting to a teasing one, "Took you long enough." his smile widening a little more. But then, as if to lighten the mood, his tone changes, filled with playful curiosity, "Is someone watching us right now, or are you being for real?"

The shift in his tone, the way he jokes despite everything that’s been said, catches you off guard. But despite the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside you, a small giggle escapes your lips, the sound strange but freeing in the silence that had weighed so heavily before. You wipe your face again, but this time, it’s not just tears... there’s a small trace of relief, of hope.

"I don’t care if anyone's watching or not..." you whisper, the weight of your confession finally slipping off your shoulders. And then, as if you’re no longer holding anything back, you take a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly as you continue, "But Jungkook, I…" You falter for just a moment, unsure of how to let this truth unfold.

His hands tug you closer in the water, the intimacy of the gesture settling within you, making your heart beat faster.

You can feel his body so close to yours, your dress still clinging to your skin under the rippling surface of the warm water, but you shove the thought aside. None of it matters anymore... not the water, not the fact that you're in the hot tub with your clothes still on. All that matters is the words you’re finally ready to say.

"I like you." you whisper softly, each word feeling like it holds all the emotions you’ve kept hidden for so long. "I like you... so much. And truthfully, these feelings aren’t new. I think a part of me has always liked you this way."

The confession slips out so naturally, but it feels like a weight has been lifted. You’ve finally said what’s been buried deep inside you, what you've struggled with for so long, with so much resolve and confidence. And as Jungkook listens, the silence between you now feels different.... lighter, warmer, almost like a promise in itself.

Jungkook smiles, his heart leaping in his chest. “Do you mean that?” he asks quietly, his voice soft, like he needs you to say it all again. You nod frantically, inching closer in the water as you feel his form against yours. “I do. I mean every word. And if I’ve ruined everything between us, I’m so sorry. But I had to tell you, even if it changes nothing.”

For a moment, he just stares down at you, the reflection of the water reflecting in his dark eyes. “You haven’t ruined anything...” he murmurs, his grip tightening around your waist. “If anything, I’ve been the one ruining it by staying away when all I wanted was to be close to you.”

Your breath hitches as he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours. “You scared me too, you know....” he pauses, the bubbling sound of the water filling the air again. “I wasn’t sure if what I felt for you was too much, too soon. But now I know… it’s never too much.... You’re never too much.”

As his forehead rests against yours, your eyes remain closed as you intently listen to him as a small smile tugs your trembling lips. "So... what now?" you ask quietly.

You feel him pull away just a little and you notice how his lips curve into a small, tender smile. “Now, we stop running... we stop this fake relationship and we get our shits together.” His laugh escapes at the end, low and warm, and you can’t help but giggle through the tears still clinging to your lashes.

“So no more acts?” you tease gently as you rest your palms against his bare chest. “No more acts.” he promises, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with quiet determination and a depth of affection that leaves you breathless.

The moment stretches, heavy with an unspoken tension, until Jungkook leans in slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips. He hesitates, as if searching for permission, and you feel your breath catch. Slowly, you close the gap yourself, and the moment your lips meet, it's like you've wanted nothing more than this.

His kiss is soft at first, tentative, like a question he’s finally found the courage to ask. The warmth of it washes over you, melting every ounce of fear and hesitation. You lean into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as he pulls you closer, his grip on your waist firm and steady.

When the kiss deepens, it’s unhurried and achingly tender, like he’s trying to pour every unsaid word and feeling into it. His wet hand moves to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as if to soothe the tears that still linger there.

When you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest together, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. His eyes flutter open, and there’s a flicker of vulnerability mixed with relief.

“I don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” he admits, his voice low and raspy, barely audible over the gentle bubbling of the water. His dark eyes, brimming with sincerity, search yours as if you hold the answer to every question he’s ever been afraid to ask. His lips curve into a soft, almost bashful smile. “Maybe forever.” he adds.

His words wash over you like the warm water surrounding you, leaving you breathless and weightless all at once. Your heart flips, and for the first time, it feels like all the pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place. A small, shy smile spreads across your face as your fingers trace the line of his jaw, the motion as delicate as the emotions coursing through you.

“You’re so cute.” you murmur, your palm now resting on his cheek. He lets out a soft laugh, the sound vibrating through the air and settling somewhere deep in your chest. “No, you’re the cute one.” he counters, his tone playful but tender.

Before you can reply, his hands shift, traveling from your waist to the back of your thighs. In one swift, fluid motion, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The sudden movement steals your breath, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you’re filled with a warmth that melts away any lingering hesitations.

A giggle escapes your lips, light and free, breaking through the tension like sunlight cutting through storm clouds. You're amused by his actions, but somehow, it all feels undeniably right. “There’s nothing like you, I swear.” you murmur, your laughter softening as your gaze locks onto his. Your eyes shine with an unspoken joy, the weight of your emotions finally finding their voice.

His hands tighten their grip, anchoring you to him as though letting go isn’t an option he’s willing to entertain. “Well...” he says, his gaze burning with a quiet intensity that leaves you breathless. “There’s nothing like us.”

And in that moment, you know he’s right. The journey to this point had been anything but easy... regular arguments, constant disagreements, misunderstandings that felt impossible to untangle and of course, a fake relationship. But somewhere in the chaos, you’d found something real. Something worth fighting for.

He tilts his head, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek with a reverence that makes your heart stutter. “I didn’t think I could let myself feel like this for someone.” he whispers. “But you... you’re everything I didn’t know I needed. You’re the person who makes everything make sense.” he smiles.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, not from pain or fear, but from the overwhelming joy of being seen, truly seen.

Somehow, his lips find yours again, slow and soft, the kiss carrying the weight of everything unspoken. It’s not rushed or desperate, it’s steady and sure, a promise of the future you’ll build together. Each moment feels endless, as if time itself has paused to honor the love blooming between you.

When you finally pull away, the world feels lighter, the air filled with possibility. “We’ve come a long way.” you say, wonder threading through your voice. His smile turns mischievous, his eyebrow quirking as his playful side reemerges. “From glaring at each other during meetings and passing snarky comments every 3 seconds... to this?” he teases, his laughter soft and contagious.

You roll your eyes, though the corners of your mouth lift in a smile. “I still think you’re insufferable sometimes.” you shrug.

“And I still think you’re stubborn.” he shoots back, his grin widening as he hugs your waist tighter. “But honestly, I think I can live with that.” you reply, your voice softening as your hand brushes against his nape, your touch tender.

“Good.” he whispers, pulling you into a warm embrace, the water rippling gently around you both. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

—fin. ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

my masterlist <3

[teaboot]

TOP 10 PERSONAL FAVE MOVIES TO WATCH WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE ASS

I don't like movies that stress me out because life is already stressful but I DO love catharsis comedy found family friendship fantasy and violence so here are my top 10 movies and series to have a good time watching

Numbered for convenience but not in any particular order

John Wick 1 and 2: An ordinary man grieving the loss of his wife gets dragged back into his past as a shadowy, invisible world of international killers for hire is slowly revealed to be living among us. A love note to set design, lighting, and choreography. My favourite part is fixating on the symbolism. DO NOT WATCH 3. 4 is okay. DO NOT WATCH 3. There is a dog death in 1 that will make you cry so skip that part if you have to. DO NOT WATCH 3.

The lord of the Rings, all 3, extended edition best watched if you're on the couch with the flu and expect to fall asleep OR if it's your day off and it's raining outside OR if you have like 5 people lounging around in pajamas

Six Underground: Essentially an hour and a half long car commercial music video with found family and a fresher take on acommon plot. Ryan Reynolds essentially writes and directs a Michael Bay movie where 6 independant criminals gather together to overthrow a violent foreign dictatorship. You show up for a dumb heist and walk out ready to build a guillotine. TW for violence, car crashes, chemical warfare, and genocide. A very cathartic ending. Does unfortunately do the whole "vague, impoverished middle-eastern country" thing but the citizens are actually show as human beings which is a nice change of pace and oh wow that's depressing isn't it

The Princess Diaries 1 and 2: A sort-of-a-loser teenage girl, played by a 2001 Annie Hathaway, learns that her late father was a king of a foreign nation and must become a confident and responsible leader for his people. There is a scene in the rain where you will experience emotions. Best watched with snacks. 2 features an enemies-to-lovers type deal with Chris Pine.

Ella Enchanted: A shrek-style semi-musical fantasy romance in which a young woman is cursed at birth to do everything anyone tells her to do. Features several Queen songs and dance numbers sung by Annie Hathaway and that guy who plays the sad dog guy in Hannibal.

Stardust: A huge loser travels from 1800s England (?) to a magical world in order to fetch a fallen star for the insufferable love of his life before she marries a massive douchebag. The huge loser? Charlie Cox. The star? A living person. Also a whole bunch of princes are ALSO looking for them as a race for the throne while discreetly killing each other off. And also a bunch of witches want to eat her so they can be young and sexy. 11/10. I used to watch this 10 minutes at a time on a YouTube channel that posted it in chunks filmed on a digital camera in their living room

The Last Holiday: Queen Latifah, playing someone played by Queen Latifah, has been working an underappreciated minimum wage job for years, living a safe and conservative life trying to lose weight and save money. Then she finds out she has months to live, and decides to finally quit her job and blow it all on one massive luxury holiday vacation complete with five-star dining, making friends and finding love and confidence along the way. It's definitely corny but it makes me so happy thank you Queen Latifah

Zathura: It's the plot to the original Jumanji but in space instead of the rainforest. But listen to me: There's a twist reveal at the end that you need to pretend isn't there. It is vitally important when you get to that part- and you will know what part when it happens- that you pretend it didn't. Otherwise, a fresh and enjoyable adventure for any age!

Redacted cause I haven't seen it in a long time and it may be worse than I remember, gotta rewatch

Bullet Train. You go in expecting a ham-fisted find-the-mcguffin style action comedy and are blindsided by excellent narrative symmetry and genuinely likeable characters. Fresh takes on old themes and creative action sequences. My little brother said "It's good", and he's a man who once sincerely argued that Lord of the Rings could have been better. It's fun and punchy violence with just enough smart stuff to not let your brain get bored

[gudfornuthin]

All I’ve Ever Wanted

Season 4!Five Hargreeves x fem!reader

! Spoilers ahead !

Summary: six years of travelling to different timelines, and Five isn’t sure how much longer he can go on for. Until he stumbles upon a greenhouse, full of strawberries. And you.

Word count: 4212

A/N: so season 4 was a… thing that happened. This story is basically my own idea of how things should’ve gone in ep 5. Instead of the weird Lila/Five situation, it’s just Five, and his chance of living a normal life with someone new. Hope you all enjoy, and feedback is appreciated :)

Number Five was never one to back down from a challenge. Having been through a series of different apocalyptic events, transporting to a timeline where he spent 40 years alone, and dealing with a misfit group consisting of his exhausting siblings, Five was up for anything. But the current situation he was dealing with? For the first time in his life, he was at breaking point.

After another wasted day spending hour after hour searching for any clues or information on how to get back to the correct timeline, Five returns to the subway, entering one of the compartments and slumping down in the first chair he sees. He rubs his eyes and lets out a visceral sigh, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. He reaches into his pockets, pulling out a small pack of dried fruits. He rips it open and devours every last piece. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He was becoming more desperate, rummaging through trash cans and foraging in bushes, hoping anything he picks isn’t poisonous.

The compartment jolts and begins to move, making its way to the next timeline. Five wipes his hands on his already dirty pants, standing up and walking slowly to the door. He wonders whether his apocalypse counterpart will be waiting for him this time.

After several minutes, and Five almost falling over from his lack of sleep, he finally arrives, the doors opening. He steps out, immediately making his way up the stairs. No time to waste. He cautiously pokes his head out, looking around for any signs of, well, himself. Before he can move out more, something wizzes past his head. A bullet. He ducks, as more shots are fired directly at him.

“Give me a fuckin’ break,” Five mumbles, as he finally takes notices of the other him in the distance.

He sticks up his middle finger, and no soon after closes his fists, blinking as quick as he possibly could.

The Five with a gun disappears along with the destroyed world around him. Five drops his arms to his sides, turning around and admiring the new environment. Luscious, greenery surrounds him, with an array of different flowers sprouting from the ground beneath him. A small pond with fish glimmers in the sunshine, lily pads floating on top. He continues turning, finding himself standing next to a tall greenhouse. The glass was slightly foggy, making it difficult to see what’s inside. Five leans in closer, squinting as if that would help. He can barely make out what appears to be pots of fruit and vegetables, some fully sprouted and others not yet ripe. His stomach rumbles, the feeling of hunger consuming him.

A rustle sounds from behind him. He turns quickly, coming face to face with a pair of shears. Five jumps back slightly. He then spots the person wielding said ‘weapon’. A young woman, probably early twenties, wearing a light yellow dress and a pair of brown sandals. Five can’t help but admire her beauty, if it wasn’t for the fact she had a face like fury and didn’t seem afraid of cutting him in half.

“Can I help you?” Her words are kind, but her harsh tone says otherwise.

Five can’t exactly tell this young woman the truth. Showing up randomly in her back yard, covered in grime, gawking at her crops through the window. He raises his hands up in the air, trying to convey that he meant no harm.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his throat sore having not spoken to anyone in quite some time. “I don’t really know how I got here.” That’s not exactly true. “I’ve been travelling for a few days now.” Try six years. “And I could really do with a hot shower and something to eat.”

The woman doesn’t say anything, just staring, with the shears still held out in front of her.

Five puts his arms down, shrugging in defeat. “I’ll just go. I truly am sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He looks down. “Or step all over your rose garden.” He gingerly moves away from the destroyed flowers.

He turns and begins to walk away, hoping to find an exit as quick as possible. Blinking in front of this woman probably wouldn’t help his cause. A warm hand grabs hold of his wrist, forcing him to stop and look back. She has the shears loosely hanging by her side, as her eyes pierce into Five’s. She seems hesitant, words forming in her mind. At last, she speaks again.

“You’re telling the truth?”

Five nods incessantly, feeling like a child.

“And if I let you in and make you something to eat, you won’t try and kill me?”

Five holds back a laugh, knowing she’s being deadly serious. “I wouldn’t dare.”

The woman waits a beat, then huffs. “Come on, I was just about to start dinner.”

She moves past Five, walking into three greenhouse. He takes this as a sign to follow after her.

***

The young woman allows Five to use her shower, and he’s thankful for the change of clothes she provides for him too. The home is small and cosy, playing into the stereotypical cottage core of living. The lighting is soft, and the smell of pumpkin seems to waft through into every room. It’s calming, it’s peaceful, it’s something that makes Five feel on edge. He isn’t used to the domestic life, away from the terror and destruction, trying to save the world over and over. He knows he can’t stay here long, but he won’t miss the opportunity of a proper cooked meal.

After putting on the change of clothes, Five makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen, a small buffet waiting for him. He finds it hard not to drool, the potatoes and fresh pie, along with the fruit and vegetables he’d spotted earlier. It looks incredible. He takes a seat, as the woman places down a final plate of tomatoes, sitting down opposite Five.

They dish out the food, filling their plates as high as they can, especially Five. He tries not to look like a slob in front of the pretty girl, but finds it hard not to drop some things down his top. She doesn’t seem to notice, or pretends not to.

The woman takes a sip of her drink, clearing her throat. “So,” her soft voice makes Five look up from his plate. “Do you have a name or is that one of the many mysteries of the man shovelling food down his throat like he hasn’t eaten in several years?”

The woman isn’t afraid of being upfront. Five admires that. Although, it’s not surprising considering he’s a complete stranger she’s trusted in her home. He puts down his knife and fork, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“No, I have a name. It’s Fi-,” he catches himself, unsure if his ‘name’ would just create more confusion, and unwanted questions. “Jerome. Just, Jerome.”

The woman squints her eyes, but doesn’t push further, seeming to move past his stumble. “Okay. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Jerome.”

Five shrugs, not knowing what else to say.

“My names Y/N.”

Five nods. “Okay. We’re closer already.”

“Don’t push it,” Y/N says, a small smile gracing her face. Five can’t help but pull the same expression.

***

After a hearty dinner, and some obvious awkward silences, Five insists on helping Y/N do the washing up. The sun was beginning to set, and Five knows he’ll have to leave soon, but something stops him from doing so. He doesn’t want to admit it, but this was the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time. The fear or worry of something bad happening wasn’t there, and as he stands close to the woman he had barely met 2 hours ago, he realises what he’d been missing in his 60 something years. A place to live, with a person who makes him feel safe.

“Jerome,” the voice breaks through his thoughts, as Five almost forgets the name he’d given to this woman. “I feel like we’ve skirted around the topic enough. Is there any reason you were in the state you were in, taking refuge behind my greenhouse?”

Five places down the plate he was cleaning, turning to face her fully. Her expression is calm, and her voice shows no sign of interrogation. It’s a first for Five, as he’s become accustomed to people prodding him for information only for their own benefit. No one’s ever shown true interest in him.

He shrugs. “It’s been a tough couple of years. More than that I guess.” Fives eyes glaze over. “I haven’t seen my family in a long time, and I don’t know if I ever will. And if I do, I’m terrified of the state that I’ll find them in.”

Y/N stops what she’s doing, also turning to look at Five, a look of worry taking over her face. He knows he’s said more than he should have, but he couldn’t help it. He’s not good at sharing his feelings, and when he does, he’s scared of what will happen once the flood gates are opened. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to close them.

“What d’you mean? Are they in some kind of trouble?” She asks, a slight shake in her voice. “Are you in trouble?”

Five shakes his head, not wanting to stress out this poor woman who’s been nothing but doting to him. “No! No, I just,” he sighs, knowing he’s really put his foot in it. “I just care about them, a lot. Too much. And I don’t even want to think about not seeing them again.”

A soft hand brushes against Five’s cheek, as he glances at Y/N wiping a tear away from his face. He didn’t even realise he’d started crying. He sniffles, moving away and rubbing at his eyes, fearing how red they may look. He sucks in a deep breath, calming his beating heart. Whether it’s from talking about his family, or the touch from the woman next to him, he isn’t sure. But he fears he’s overstayed his welcome.

Five moves away from the kitchen counter. “I guess I should probably go. Don’t wanna miss my train.” Although he knows they’ll always be one there waiting for him.

He heads for the door, remembering to go upstairs and collect his dirty clothes before he leaves. Footsteps are heard from behind him.

“Uh,” Five swivels back around, as Y/N hesitates over her words. “This may seem kinda forward, and a dangerous move on my part, but, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing you were out there in the middle of the night, traveling by yourself.”

Five holds his breath, not wanting to jump the gun, but already anticipating the next sentence out of her mouth.

“I have extra pillows, and blankets.” Y/N shrugs. “It’s not the most comfortable couch but I’d say it’s more comfortable than the chairs on the train.”

Neither of them speak for a while. Five ponders her offer over and over, wondering if this is something he wants to decline. He needs to get back to his family. He needs to get back to help them. But so far, every option has been a bust. He’s not sure how much longer he can go on for. It could be the apocalypse all over again. Stuck for 40 years, traveling none stop, unsure if he’ll ever see his loved ones again. Could a good nights sleep really be such a bad thing?

He thinks the risk is worth it. “As long as it’s not too much trouble for you.”

***

That one good nights sleep turned into three months, staying at Y/N’s home, crashing on her couch. It didn’t stop Five from going out, back to the subway, trying to find the possible solution to his six year problem. But the more time he spent with the woman, the less time he wanted to spend away from her. They grew closer, making meals together, gardening together, watching silly romcoms together. While Y/N taught Five how to bake, Five taught her how to fight. A young woman living by herself? It didn’t hurt knowing some basic defence skills.

Five didn’t want to admit it, but his family hadn’t crossed his mind as often as it usually did before he met Y/N. He’d become soft, wanting to be around her all the time, not wanting to visit the subway as often as he should be. He’s lucky enough to call her a friend. He hopes she calls him that too.

***

It’s late, and Y/N is sat on the couch, crocheting a few pairs of gloves and a long overdue jumper. People used to make fun of her for it, calling her an old lady, but she finds it soothing. And making your own clothes is a big bonus too. Five, or Jerome as she knew him, had been out most of the day. She never questioned what he was up to, only that he returned safe, ready for whatever she’d cooked up for him during the day. She wasn’t completely naive in thinking ‘Jerome’ has involved himself in shady business. But unless he plans on telling her, then she won’t bother pushing him on the matter.

A bang echos from the back of the house, specifically inside the geeenhouse. It makes Y/N jump up from her seated position, quickly rushing out to the source of the noise. It can only be one person, or that’s what she hopes. Either way, she grabs for her shears before entering the warm glass room.

“Jerome?” She whispers, watching her step, the only light in the room coming from the moon through the windows.

A muffled groaning reaches her ears, as Y/N blindly moves her hands over the walls, trying to find the light switch. She finally does, and flicks it on. A sharp gasp comes out of her mouth, as the brightness finally reveals her new friend curled in a ball on the floor, rolling in pain.

“Shit.”

She quickly makes her way over to him, delicately wrapping her arms around his waist and slowly helping him off the floor. He stumbles, knocking into a few pots, almost making them fall off the table.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, the word slurring under his breath.

“Don’t apologise,” she says, making sure he’s steady on his feet. “Let’s just get you inside and onto the couch.”

They make their way through into the living room, Five dropping haphazardly onto the soft cushions, while Y/N finally gets a proper look at him. His clothes are ripped, the once pristine suit (one she bought for him as a gift) now in tatters. His hair is sticking up in all different directions, and he’s clutching to his side like his life depends on it. She reaches for his arm, prying it away to reveal an array of bullet wounds, still bleeding.

“You should see the other guy,” Five jokes, tilting his head back and trying to forget about the burning pain running across his body. Funnily enough, if Y/N saw the other guy, he’d look exactly like him, considering this all happened due to an unfortunate run in with apocalypse Five.

Y/N stares at him with wide eyes. “Really? Look, I don’t bother asking where you go or what you’re up to when you leave this house, but I think now’s the time you tell me the truth.”

Five moves his head back down, looking her in the eyes. She’s terrified. And he hates that. He breathes in deep, taking her hand in his.

“If you can help me patch this shit up,” he briefly motions to his wounds, “then I’ll tell you who I really am.”

So that’s what they do. Y/N retrieves the first aid kit from her bathroom, while Five opens up about his life before he met her, and how he’s not from this timeline. He isn’t sure if she’s believing what he says, as she remains quiet the entire time, only occasionally looking up at him and quickly returning to removing the bullets lodged in his side. But she listens. And allows him to pour his heart out to her.

“The past six years were torture. Somehow worse than the forty I spent in the apocalypse.” Five turns his head and stares at the woman next to him, as she finishes up her work. “But these last few months with you. I could finally be normal. I could live a life most guys would kill to have. And I’m so sorry I lied to you this long.”

They fall into silence, the pair somehow closer together than they were a few minutes ago. Both emotionally, and physically. Y/N moves her hand and takes his, squeezing tightly. Five’s heartbeat picks up speed, only now noticing their close proximity.

“So your real name is ‘Five’?” He nods at her words. She nods back. “Hmm. It suits you a lot better than Jerome.”

They both laugh half heartedly, as they stare deeply into each other’s eyes. She moves her hand up to his hair, moving it out of his face, trying to calm it down slightly.

She carries on talking. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” Five rolls his eyes. She doesn’t even know the half of it. “But if I can be the person to keep you grounded, for however long you’re here for, then I’m happy to do just that.”

Five smiles, glancing quickly at her lips.

She does the same. “And I hope you’re here for a long time.”

They both lean in, softly pressing their lips against each other’s. Five cups her face, deepening the kiss as Y/N rests her arms atop his shoulders. They move in sync, careful not to cause any more damage to Five’s wounds, as she somehow moves closer, one of her legs wrapping itself around his waist.

They don’t stop, clothes discarded, bodies intertwined, as their growing tension is finally broken. Five isn’t sure if he’ll ever get back to his timeline, but for now, he’s happy to call this place home.

***

Another four months, and still no sign of a way back. Although, Five can’t deny he hasn’t been trying as hard as usual. The peace and tranquillity has consumed him whole, falling into a proper routine with the woman he…

Is it love? Could he truly fall for someone like this? Someone who isn’t involved in the shit show he’s grown accustomed to? Someone who wants that quiet life, watering flowers and baking pies, with him? Maybe it’s what he needs.

Five stands in the greenhouse, picking some fresh strawberries, and trying a few to see if they were ripe. He’s already found the perfect recipe to use them in. Something he knows she’ll love.

As if reading his thoughts, a pair of arms slip around his waist. Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder, peaking over to see the basket full of fresh fruit. She picks one up, moving away and popping it in her mouth. Five turns and looks at her, smiling wide.

“They taste perfect,” she says.

Five takes her wrists, pulling her towards him and kissing her lightly. “So do you.”

She laughs, holding him close and breathing him in. “The cheesy lines don’t work on me, bub.”

“I think they do.” He mumbles, bringing her in for another kiss, sliding his hands up and down her back.

They stay like this for a while, holding each other in the warm glass room. The sun starts to set, as Five looks out and realises what time it is.

“Damn.”

She looks at him, confusion on her face. “What’s up?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, I just need to do a double check of the subway before dinner.”

Y/N tries not to show her anxiousness, but some of it seeps through. After Five explained to her what the subway is and why he goes there every day, she’s terrified at the thought of him leaving and never coming back. But she knows he wouldn’t do that to her. Not without saying goodbye.

She steps back. “Right. Promise you’ll be safe?”

He kisses her on the cheek. “I promise.”

***

Five spends some time looking around the platform in the subway, checking the lights, checking the maps, even poking his head into the tunnels to see if anything has changed. But nothing. It all remains the same. No sign of his past life waiting for him. Was that such a bad thing?

Holding a small flashlight, he shines it up and down, left and right, hoping his eyes will catch something new. A sudden pop from above startles him, the grip he had on the flashlight loosening. It falls and rolls onto the tracks. Five looks up, noticing one of the bulbs now flickering. He huffs, moving to the edge of the platform and jumping down. He retrieves the flashlight, hitting it a few times to try and get it to work again. It comes to life, flashing in front of him. That’s when he spots something.

“That’s new.”

Five walks over, grabbing the mystery object and holding it up. It’s a plain notepad. He flips it open, scanning over the messy handwriting inside. His messy handwriting. He can’t help but let out a tiny gasp, as he figures out what it all means.

“This is it.” Tears form in his eyes. “This is my way back home.”

He’s shocked. He’s elated. He’s emotionally drained. This is his chance to rejoin his timeline. To see his family after so long. To fix the mess they’ve created. But all he can think about in this moment is Y/N. How the hell is he supposed to break the news to her?

***

After another hour spent pondering this new found information, Five slowly makes his way back home. His home. Where the life he’d built was waiting for him.

He enters the house and walks into the kitchen, where Y/N stands by the stove, boiling something sweet and caramelly. Five just stares at her; humming a random tune, wiping her messy hands on the apron he bought for her when her old one accidentally caught fire. That was the most stress he’d felt since coming here. And if that was the only stress he had to deal with, he’d take it every single day.

She finally turns and spots him, smiling wide. “Oh hey! I was worried for a sec, you were taking longer than expected.”

She moves closer to him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He holds her, not wanting to let go. Y/N can tell something isn’t right.

She leans back. “You okay?”

Five doesn’t reply, only holding the notepad out for her to take. She does so, flipping through the pages just like he did, her expression perplexed.

“I don’t understand-”

“It’s the way back to my timeline.”

She looks up at him, mouth slightly open, as her words fall short. Five can swear he hears her heartbeat speed up, as her breathing becomes erratic. Five isn’t sure what to do, waiting for an explosion of emotions to rain down on him. But nothing comes. Neither of them do or say anything.

Five chooses to break the silence. “I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t. I don’t think I could live the way I used to live. Not after living this life with you.”

Y/N bites her lip, suppressing a sob. “You have to go.”

Five furrows his brow, hoping he heard her wrong. He tilts her head up to stare into her eyes, seeing the tears forming.

“No,” he whispers. “You’ve become the most important thing in my life. The thought of never seeing you again, I can’t do that.”

A tear falls down her cheek, as Five reaches out to wipe it away.

“I’d love nothing more than to stay in this little bubble we’ve created,” she replies, finding it hard to keep her voice steady. “But your family, your timeline, all those people? They need you more than I do. And I know deep down, you can’t bear the thought of letting them die, knowing you could’ve helped.”

Five wants to ask her to come with him. Become apart of his family. He knows she’d get on with them all. And they’d all love her, possibly more than they love him. But he knows it’s cruel to ask her to leave her life behind. The house, the garden, the home that she’s worked so hard on. And the thought of throwing her into the thick of it all. Putting her at danger? No chance.

He pulls her into his embrace, kissing her hard. They hold each other tight, their lips bruising as neither of them can stop the tears from falling.

Y/N is the first to pull away. “If you ever get the chance to come back to this timeline, you know where to find me.”

Five smiles, not wanting to let her go. He kisses her once more. “In the greenhouse, tasting just as sweet as the strawberries.”

[mod2amaryllis]

im just gonna be petty ignore me

are you ever training someone and eventually it gets to a point where you just like

give up on them lol

[princeguri66]

Back on my affectionate reader bullshit because I just want to smother those assholes with love.

TF 141 x Male! Reader

Kissing the homies goodnight.

18+ Minors DNI!

Cw: whole lotta fluff, it only gets suggestive at the end and that's it

It started with a joke. Gaz drunkenly saying "Hey, if I win will you give me a goodnight kiss?" Before you start a game of cards, you all laughed it off then. Until it starts getting later in the evening and when you excuse yourself to go to bed Soap calls out to you with a chuckle, "Ey, don't forget about Gaz's kiss" you trudge your way back to them eyes drooping. They all expect you to kick Soap or something akin to that, but you surprise them by leaning down and placing a kiss on Gaz's eyebrow before tiredly muttering a "goodnight" and walking away.

And if that didn't give them any ideas..

For the next week it was usually Soap and Gaz pestering you about your kisses being rewards.

"If I shoot all the targets will you give me a kiss?"

"If I beat him in this fight will you give me a kiss?"

It gives them such a boost of energy.

You don't expect anyone else other than them to ask you for one until you're watching a game on the telly with Ghost. "If my team wins, I want a reward like them" He says to you, referencing Soap and Gaz and you nod albeit a bit shocked.

And by a stroke of luck his team wins, you reward him with a kiss to his temple.

And when it comes to Price.. 

It occurred after a tough but successful mission, and it was all thanks to you. What you had to handle was rough but you still came back with minimal injuries.

After a quick check up and shower you head to the common room on base to lounge with your team, but when you just stepped in the area Price got himself up from the couch claiming he needs to get back to work. 

As he passed you he said a quick "Good job out there lad." And held you by your shoulder to pull you close and kiss you right on your cheek before walking away leaving you stunned.

The team saw it all of course, sitting still a bit stunned as well, seemed like your habit of kissing your homies rubbed off on the captain.

You were too focused on the lingering feeling of Price's beard scratching your face that you didn't hear Soap saying how that it's so unfair, how he also had a successful mission but didn't get a kiss from their dear captain, only realizing you've been standing there like an idiot this whole time when Soap ran past you trying to catch up with the captain to claim his well deserved prize.

And it just evolves from there, everyone gives each other kisses. 

It started off as conglatutory kisses like before, then it'll go to "kiss it better" kisses

(Like if Ghost trained so hard he gets bloody knuckles Price will kiss them better, or if Soap suffered an injury Gaz would be there to kiss his bandages, or if Gaz just had a rough day and is incredibly stressed you'd kiss his temple)

Then eventually everytime any of you are about to leave for a mission you all give a kiss to whoever's going for good luck, and when they come back it's those pushing mouth aggressively to cheek kisses happy that they came back alive and well.

And it goes to the point where any chance you get you'll exchange small kisses. Passing each other in the hall way? A kiss to the cheek. Finding each other in the kitchen late at night to grab a drink? A kiss on the forehead. One of you had a brutal nightmare? Boom, get kissed on your damn head, hell why not cuddle while you're at it? (You did cuddle while you're at it)

It doesn't take long for the kisses to trail closer to the lips, for the kisses to trail to your neck and collarbones as well. It doesn't take long for it to evolve from small pecks to heated make out sessions, desperate to feel each other's mouths even deeper. It doesn't take long for the five of you to end up swapping spit late at night, sloppily making out with whoever's mouth is open and wanting, stripping each other's clothes even with your mouth occupied.

After that it's no question to kiss the homies goodnight, hell it usually ends with more than a kiss.

[atlabeth]

heat lightning

pt 1 / pt 3

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you end up at the heart of the bau's latest case.

a/n: took way too long but here's more gideon reader! just as irritable as ever with some actual human emotions this time around. send help and prayers bc she's gonna need it. and before you ask there will in fact be some more parts to close up this case, i just have to write them first and it may take approximately 10 years. thank you for your consideration

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): reader still has daddy issues, still hates spence, and still argues w gideon the whole time. more angst! typical cm case stuff (a stalker that has taken vulnerable pics of reader) read w/ discretion if you are sensitive to those things. more drama and more tension and more not being a good time for anyone but me

“On your right, pretty boy.” 

Spencer stops as Morgan rushes past him back to his desk, eyes trained on the hallway. 

“Why are you in such a hurry?” he complains. “I nearly spilled my coffee.”

“Gideon’s daughter is here again,” he says. “Did you not feel the temperature drop five degrees?”

Spencer frowns. He opens his mouth to say something when he hears the telltale signs of your arrival: arguing. 

“—so typical of you! I have to drop everything the moment you need me, but it’s like pulling teeth to get you to listen to me.”

Gideon turns the corner with you in tow. He has a duffle bag in one hand and a file in his other, his brow furrowed in frustration. 

“That’s because this is important,” he says. 

“Oh, and everything else I try to get you to be around for isn’t?” 

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” Gideon says, keeping his voice level. 

“This is ridiculous,” you spit. 

“It’s necessary,” he corrects. “I’m not going to play games with your safety.” 

“Oh, yeah,” you mock. “Because you’ve always cared about that.” 

He just shakes his head. “I’m not debating this with you.”

“Why? Because you’ll realize that it’s ridiculous?”

You follow Gideon into his office and Spencer watches him close the blinds. The door slams shut, and though he can still hear the muffled argument he can’t make anything out.

“Oh, great,” Morgan says. “Now we can’t even get Reid to read their lips.”

“I don’t think we need it to know what they’re talking about,” Elle says. “They’ve been arguing since she was brought in.”

“Of course they have,” JJ says. “Gideon sent Hotch to pick her up instead of doing it himself. She sees it as another slight.”

“She sees everything as a slight,” Spencer says. “She hates him.” 

“I don’t blame her,” Morgan mutters. “Not when we only found out about her last month.” 

“Surely this isn’t helping with anything,” JJ says wryly. 

Elle shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Sometimes pointless arguing makes you feel better, even when you’re in the wrong.” 

“That’s enough, agents.” Spencer’s attention—along with everyone else’s—snaps to the top of the bullpen to see Hotch holding a file with the same expression as always. “I need you all in the conference room.” 

“Does it have anything to do with that?” Morgan asks, tilting his head towards Gideon’s office. 

“You’ll find out,” he says. Hotch starts walking to the conference room, the conversation clearly over. 

JJ sighs as she stands up and grabs the files on her desk. “I’ll get Penelope. The rest of you try not to gossip too much.” 

She goes off, and the others disperse back to their desk to finish up some last-minute things before the case takes them away. Spencer can’t tear his eyes away from Gideon’s office, even though he’s not getting anything. 

All he can think about is the last time you were here, when he got caught in the middle of your argument with Gideon—your dad, which was still a little weird—and he can’t help but feel guilty. 

Gideon is a father figure to him, sure, but it isn’t that difficult to end up with that dynamic when Spencer’s the youngest on the team. And he can go into everything about his father leaving and the psychology of that, but it doesn’t matter. Gideon treated him like a son when he had a daughter all along that he’d been neglecting. 

For all Spencer knows, it is his fault. 

“Reid,” Elle says, snapping him out of his thoughts, “you coming?”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding far too many times as he catches up to her in a few quick strides. “Sorry.”

“No need,” she remarks. “Gideon’s kid was all anyone could talk about when she first showed up here. This is only gonna make things worse.”

“He can’t really be that bad of a dad,” Spencer says, “right?”

“All I know is that having a parent in the force rarely ends well,” Elle murmurs. She opens the door to the conference room and looks at him. “We can’t be too hard on her when we probably see Gideon more than she does.”

Spencer recalls his meeting with you, how he barely got a word in edgewise while you spent the whole time arguing with someone half the office viewed as immovable. 

“Yeah,” he says distantly. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

-

“Why? Because you’ll realize that it’s ridiculous?” 

Your dad shuts the blinds on all the windows in his office, then closes the door behind you. He sets your duffle down on the floor then looks at you, that infuriatingly even expression still unchanged.

“It’s not ridiculous,” he says. “Sit down and lower your voice, please. We have some things to talk about.” 

“I gathered that when you sent your guy to pick me up,” you say, crossing your arms as he walks over to his desk. “Couldn’t even do it yourself?” 

“Aaron Hotchner is the chief of this unit and one of the most accomplished agents here,” he says. “He lives closer to you than I do, and I asked him to pick you up on his way in because I knew you would be safe with him. Sit down, please.” 

“There it is again. My safety.” You remain standing. “Tell me what this is about. I’m missing work right now— I know you can understand that, at least.” 

He lets out a sigh as he says your name and looks at you. “Can we get through this without any arguments for once?” 

“That depends. Are you going to treat me like your daughter or an inconvenience?” 

“You’re my daughter, I love you, and your life is in danger,” he says evenly. 

You open your mouth to retort, but your dad opens the file in his hands and sets it down on the other side of the desk. You can see from your position that they’re photos, but your curiosity ultimately wins out. You walk over to get a closer look, and any words die in your throat as you pick up the first photo. 

A photo of you. 

You pick up the next one, only to see it’s another picture of you. At least ten photos are tucked away in the file, and they’re all of you. Taken outside your work, at your apartment, on your morning run— god, there’s even one taken through the window of your bedroom, half-naked in a towel after a shower. 

You fall silently into the chair, your heart hammering inside your chest as your eyes dart between all of the photos. You want to crawl out of your skin. 

“What the fuck is this?” you breathe. 

“The heart of our newest case,” your dad says. “It appears that you have a stalker.” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, eyes still glued to your oblivious self, “I would fucking think so.”

“These photos were dropped off at my door this morning,” he says, and he flips to the next section of the file, “with that note.”

The erratic handwriting instantly stands out to you as you pick the photocopy up, the lump in your throat growing with every word you read. 

such a pretty little thing. I wonder if she knows it.

you don’t care about her, but I do. she’s just like all the rest of us, everyone that you’ve ruined.

think about your priorities, agent gideon. I’ll be watching.  

“What the fuck is this?” you repeat. Blood pounds in your skull as a distant chill creeps down your spine. “I— I’m one of your cases now?” 

“We’re not sure yet,” he admits. “These only appeared yesterday, but from the looks of it, the unsub has been watching you for a while. Can you pinpoint when any of these photos were taken? 

You stare at him. “Some psycho has been stalking me for a while?” 

Your dad says your name again, slightly strained. “Please. I know this is difficult to think about, but figuring out a time frame would help us.” 

“Difficult,” you scoff. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” 

But it doesn’t have the bite your words usually hold. For once, you don’t think you’re mad at your dad. You think you’re terrified. 

“...Yeah,” you finally murmur, and you pick up one of the photos. “I thrifted a mirror a month ago, and this one doesn’t have it.”

Your dad nods, and he picks up two others. “Neither do these.” 

“So this has been going on for at least a month,” you say bitterly. “Great.”

Your dad says your name, quieter this time, and when you finally look at him his eyes have softened. 

“We’re going to figure this out,” he says. “This is a threat against an FBI agent’s family, and it will be treated accordingly. Forensics is doing tests on all the original copies to try and find a lead. The whole BAU will be on your case—I will be on it, and we won’t rest until we find whoever’s doing this.” 

“Yeah,” you say numbly. “You sure that’ll help? Because it looks like all this is happening because I’m your daughter.” 

“I know this is scary,” he says. “This… this is nothing like you’ve ever dealt with before. You shouldn’t have to deal with it. But you have to trust my team. We know what we’re doing.” 

“Of course you know what you’re doing,” you say. “You’re always here.” 

Your words have no bite behind them, more of an instinct as you grab your purse from the ground. You can feel the pinpricks of incoming tears, and you refuse to cry in front of your dad. 

“I— I need a minute,” you say. “This is all just—” 

“I understand,” he says. “Just don’t go far. Stay on this floor.”

You nod and start towards the door, but you pause right before you reach it. Your mouth opens as you try to think of something to say, but it falls shut just as quickly. You shake your head as you reach for the door handle, but before you get the chance, it swings open and you’re met with a familiar face. 

Spencer Reid, the kid your dad likes more than you. He’s nothing less than surprised to see you, from his stumbled step back, the slightly wide eyes, his hand poised to knock on the door. 

A mumbled apology falls from your lips as you move around him, and you can still feel his eyes on you as you speed off. You wonder what ideas he and the rest of the BAU have drawn up about you since your last visit to the office. 

You don’t really care. 

True to your word, you don’t go far—just to the bathroom. Thankfully it’s close, because the moment you make it to one of the stalls, knees stinging as you fall to the tiled floor, you vomit. 

By the time you’ve expelled the contents of your stomach, it feels just as empty as the rest of you. You stare at the wall, breathing slightly harried and skin warm to the touch, and you resist the urge to punch it. 

You have a stalker. Someone has been watching you for a month—at least a month, maybe longer—and you had no fucking clue, and now your only decent hope lies with your dad and his team. 

Normally, you wrote off anything depending on your dad as fruitless, but this involved the thing he loved more than anything in the world: his job. 

You huff a wry laugh at the thought. This wouldn’t get solved because it concerned you, it would get solved because it concerned his job. 

You stand up and walk over to the sink. You rinse your mouth, then just stare at yourself in the mirror. 

It— it feels strange. Looking at yourself like this, knowing someone has been—still is—watching you. 

You recall their words. 

Pretty little thing. 

You don’t care about her, but I do. 

A chill crawls up your spine. You can’t shake the dread settling all over you. 

What the fuck are you going to do?

You have to trust your dad, but you’ve never trusted your dad. God, he’s not even really your dad. He’s Senior Supervisory Special Agent Jason Gideon, nothing more—the estranged kid is an unfortunate side effect of the estranged wife.

You let out another breathy laugh. Would he even care if this psycho actually ends up killing you? 

You stand there for another couple minutes, time idling in the background as you continue to stare at the mirror. 

You haven’t cried, at least. That’s certainly something.

The door opens ever so slightly and someone says your name. Your eyes flick to the mirror almost immediately as your body tenses, and you recognize her as one of the BAU’s agents. She’s pretty and blonde with sympathetic eyes, and you know they’ve been briefed on your situation. 

If you have to deal with an office of pitying looks, you think you might lose your mind. 

“Are you alright?” she asks softly. 

“Just peachy,” you mumble. “My dad ask you to check up on me?” 

She nods. “You can imagine why Gideon is a bit high strung at the moment.” 

“I’m fine,” you repeat. “I just… needed a second.” 

“I understand,” she murmurs. “Do you still need some time?” 

“What do you need?” 

“Gideon wants to talk to you. It’s best if he explains it.” 

You huff a laugh and shake your head. “Fine. Lead the way, Agent…” 

“Jareau,” she supplies. “But call me JJ, please.” 

In lieu of a response, you walk over to her. She offers a thin smile and holds the door for you, then falls into step with you. A moment of silence passes before she speaks up. 

“We’re going to figure this out,” JJ says. “Your dad is one of the best to walk through these doors. If anyone can solve this, he can.” 

“So I keep hearing,” you murmur. 

-

Spencer watches you hurry off with wide eyes, and it takes a few seconds for him to snap out of it. He’s less surprised by your pace, and more surprised that you actually apologized for bumping into him. 

“Reid,” Gideon speaks up, and his attention snaps back over to his superior. “What do you need?” 

“Is she okay?” he asks instead. He can’t help it—after what Hotch just told all of them, he’s worried about you. 

Gideon gathers the photos back into the file then stands up. “Our job is to make sure she will be.”

“Hotch briefed us,” he says, and his eyes darted back to the doorway almost on instinct. “This— this is crazy. We just found out about her last month, and some guy’s been after her for longer?” 

“What this is is one of my enemies targeting my daughter because they’re too much of a coward to go after me,” Gideon says evenly. “We just have to figure out which one before they escalate.”

“How do you know?” he asks. 

“What you said is true,” he admits. “Hardly anyone knows I have a daughter. Even fewer would know where she lives. Someone who wants to hurt me would have incentive to discover both.” 

“So we look into unsubs you’ve put away that have been released,” Spencer says. “Or ones that are still in, but have family that might be bitter.”

“Exactly,” Gideon nods. “But I have to ask something of you, Reid.”

He frowns. “Anything.”

“We’re working on getting a safe house for my daughter,” Gideon says. “I need you to stay there with her.” 

Somehow, his frown deepens. “What?”

“I need to know she’s with someone I can trust,” he says. “There’s someone after her, and we don’t know who—that means we need to keep this circle tight.”

“So you want me to be her bodyguard?” Spencer marvels. “Do you remember that you had to waive all my physical tests?”

“Less of a bodyguard,” he says. “More just… keeping her company. Making sure she’s alright—mentally as much as physically.”

“Why am I the one that has to keep an eye on her?” Spencer asks. “She hates me!” 

“Don’t take it personally,” Gideon says. “She hates a lot of things.” 

“But it is personal,” Spencer insists. “She hates me because she thinks you like me more than her.” 

Gideon doesn’t seem phased at the comment. “She’s opinionated, but she’s harmless. And right now, I need to know that she’s with someone I can trust.”

“I— I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Please, Reid.” Gideon leans forward, and there’s an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his eyes. "If I'm going to be on this case, I need to know that she's safe. I won't be able to focus otherwise."

Spencer wasn’t going to lie—he genuinely thought it was a bad idea. But… Gideon said he trusted him. And this was his daughter—they might’ve argued, but they still cared about each other. if he could keep Lila Archer safe, he could keep you safe. 

“…Okay,” he finally concedes. “Okay.”

Gideon nods, and he watches the change in his eyes, the slightest bit of tension leaving his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Just… make sure there are two bedrooms,” Spencer says. “I don’t need her to kill me one day in.”

At that, he cracks a rare smile. Spencer is thankful for it, that he can bring even the smallest amount of levity to Gideon’s life right now. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

-

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Your dad says your name, but you hardly let him finish. 

“No! First I find out I have a stalker, then my whole life’s going to be uprooted until you find them, and now I have to be stuck with boy genius?”

“You know, we’re about the same age—”

“Do you ever stop talking?” you cry, whirling on Spencer.

“I actually don’t talk that much when I’m around you,” Spencer says, his brows creasing. “This is the third time I’ve met you, and I’ve only said nine sentences across those meetings. Thirteen, if you count all of these too.”

You let out a strained laugh as you shake your head, trying to blink back tears. “This is fucking unbelievable. I know he’s practically your son, but this is just—”

“A safety precaution,” your dad interrupts. “Doctor Spencer Reid is another one of the BAU’s finest agents, and he is fully qualified to keep you safe.”

“He looks like a strong breeze could snap him in half.”

“This is not a joke,” your dad says sternly. “None of this is a joke. Your life is in danger—you have a stalker that has been watching your every move for at least a month, and we have no idea what their next move will be. Doctor Reid is more experienced than you in every facet of this, and I am entrusting him to your care. I respect him immensely, and you will do so as well.”

You don’t even look at Spencer, quiet rage simmering beneath the surface as you stare at your father.

“You really don’t get it,” you murmur. “Do you?”

“The only thing to get is that your life is in increasing danger with every moment you spend pushing against me,” your dad says, and he stands up. “Get your purse. Reid, get her duffle. We’re leaving.”

He leaves before you get the chance to do anything—you assume he’s finally tired of you. 

You just shake your head and pick up your purse, and Spencer clears his throat as he reaches for your duffle bag. You wonder if it even has anything useful—Aaron Hotchner was the one who packed it. 

“…So,” Spencer says. “I guess we’re gonna be roommates for a while.”

You huff in fully unveiled annoyance, and you push past him on your way out. 

“Great,” he mutters to himself as he follows you. “So this is what Gideon’s trust earns me.” 

It doesn’t take him too long to catch up to you, despite the unnecessary quick pace you’re taking. You bypass the elevator and head towards the stairwell, and Spencer catches the door before it’s able to slam on him. 

He says your name, but you just shake your head. 

“If we’re gonna be stuck together until this is over, I’d prefer silence.” 

“I don’t really do silence,” Spencer says. 

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of books for you to read in whatever jail cell they throw me in.” 

“It’s actually going to be a pretty nice safe house,” he starts, throwing his hand up against the wall to catch himself from running into it as he turns, because god you are moving fast, “Gideon picked it out himself.” 

“Oh, then it’ll definitely be a jail cell,” you mock. “It’s not like he knows anything about me, so he’ll probably think that it’s perfect.” 

Spencer frowns. “Cut him some slack. This is all just as hard on him as it is on you.” 

You come to a sudden stop, whirling around to face him, and Spencer has to reel to the side to prevent himself from running into you. Had he not already been pressed up against the wall, he would have moved back further, what with the fire blazing in your eyes. 

“I’m not going to cut him any slack,” you spit. “This is the most time I’ve gotten to spend with my dad in months, and it’s only because some creep is stalking me to get back at him. The only reason I’m in this at all is because of his job that he cares about more than me, and now he’s sticking me with the guy that he wishes was his kid. So no, Doctor Reid—I’m not going to cut him any slack.” 

You’re already off on your way again before Spencer even has time to blink, and you’ve made it down the whole last flight by the time he pushes himself back up. 

He takes the steps three at a time to catch up to you, and he once again barely manages to catch the door before it slams on him. He calls your name, finally managing to fall into step with you right before you reach Gideon. He, like a normal person, deigned to take the elevator. 

“You haven’t started arguing already,” he says, passing a glance at Spencer, “have you?” 

“What do you think?” you ask, your arms crossed. 

“I think you’re giving him a hard time that you usually reserve for me,” he says. “Cut him some slack.” 

Your jaw clenches. “I’ve been getting a lot of that lately. Save the profiling for my stalker, will you?”  

“There’s plenty of profiling to go around,” Gideon says. “You two wait here—I need to confirm the safe house location before we head out.” 

“Can we stop by my place before we go?” Spencer asks. “I need to pick up some things.” 

“You have a go bag, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, but I— I wasn’t exactly prepared for this sort of thing when I came in today.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Gideon says. He walks off before Spencer can protest, and he sighs. 

You lean against the wall, your arms crossed with your purse hanging off your shoulder, and for once you don’t pass judgment on his—admittedly small—plight. 

“I changed my mind,” Spencer speaks up, deciding to try and break the remarkably high amount of tension that had built up in such a short time, and your eyebrows rise as you glance at him. 

“About what?” 

“I— I think I can do silence,” he says. “Temporarily.” 

You huff a laugh. “Really?” 

“I don’t really want to annoy you while we’re stuck together in an undisclosed location,” he says. “I don’t know what you’re capable of.” 

And for the first time since Spencer has met you, you actually smile. It’s the smallest thing, just a slight tilt of your lips that’s more akin to Hotch’s moments of levity than anything, but it’s a smile. 

“...Good choice,” you say. It feels like a joke, but Spencer isn’t sure. 

He smiles anyway. You meet his eyes, and for a moment, you’re just another girl. Someone that Spencer could imagine himself stealing glances at in a lecture hall, a regular at his favorite coffee shop that he falls for over the course of an especially cold winter, someone he meets on a night out with the team that he ends up talking to all night. 

You really do have pretty eyes. 

And then your gaze hardens, darts away from him, and Spencer sees Gideon coming back in his peripherals. The moment fractures. 

You’re not just a girl. You’re Gideon’s daughter, you’re in a remarkable amount of danger, and lest he forget, you do in fact hate him. 

Spencer lets out another short sigh. 

At least this safe house won’t have a pool.

[divinesolas]

deepest desires

summary: Though you have been married to aegon for a while now it seems he wants nothing to do with you and you worry you will spend the rest of your life miserable; but he ends up finding out a secret you've tried so hard to keep hidden and it brings you two together much to your surprise and delight.

w.c: 2.1k

c.w: sub!aegon, porn with plot, pegging, wooden strap, dom!reader, mommy kink, pathetic aegon, slight overstim, anal stuff, not proofread

a.n: dedicated to my lovelie @aegonswife | i will never shut up about the sub aegon agenda !!

You must have been horrible in your past life for the gods to curse you like this. To be married to a prince should be a wonderful thing yet you feel as though you have been sentenced to death.

You can recount on your hands how many words he’s spoken to you despite your many many many many, many, attempts to get him to converse with you. He will not even glance at you most of the time, well kept to his drinks and his whores. You suppose its a better fate than most at least it seemed he would not force himself upon you or abuse you.

Your wedding is a blur and your wedding night is the same, you remember him swiftly leaving after he released and you remember simply lying there and trying to fall asleep.

It took you awhile to officially move in with him as you stuff got stuck on way to the keep and you just so happened to be out the day it finally arrived at the keep so you had the maids bring your stuff into the room in your stead.

As he’s typically out all day and you did not expect him to be in the room while they were unpacking as it is mid afternoon you walk into the room and are shocked to see him standing in front of one of your opened crates with something you prayed he would never see in his hands.

You’ve always had very, different, cravings and lusts. When women would confess their sinful thoughts you realized you were the odd girl out. Many women wanted to get pinned down by their man and be taken in whatever way he pleased but you had always wanted the opposite. To be the one taking, to pin someone down and having a dick of your own forcefully shoving it into their hole.

When you discovered they had invented such a device that could give you the illusion of you having a cock you immediately used your allowance to track one down and purchase it for yourself. Thought you have never used the things you are now wishing you have never bought it has he clutches it in his hands and tilts his head at you, a look you’ve never seen in his eyes.

“This yours?”

You must look like a fish, opening and closing your mouth unsure of what you’re supposed to say. So you say nothing, instead choosing to run out the room like a madman and do not return until very very very late at night and are shocked to see him asleep in your shared bed. He barely even spent five minutes alone in your shared chambers let alone sleep in there. You quietly lay down next to him and fall asleep, praying he would not be there in the morning.

You had hoped that would be that and you would never have to speak to him again but he continues to follow you around like a lost puppy. Tailing behind you everywhere, your lessons, when you spend time in the garden, even your personal time in the shared room he is laying next to you as you read. The sudden change in his behavior is so jarring you cannot help but ask him about it but he just smiles at you, “You are much different than i thought you to be.” You have no clue what that means.

You grow a sort of, friendly? relationship with one another. You are still too nervous to truly say anything to him while he merely seems content laying besides you.

Everything sort of flips on its head when you are laying on the bed, a book in your lap as usual and the door opens. You are not shocked to see a clearly drunk aegon but are more than shocked when he flops down onto the bed and presses his head to your stomach as he lets out a groan.

“My prince?” he merely hums, “My head hurts.” “Maybe you should try and sleep my prince-” “when are you going to fuck me?”

This has you frozen and he looks up at you with his red eyes. “I’ve been so good why haven’t you?” Your mouth opens in shock as he flops his head back down and presses some wet, open mouthed kisses into the fabric of your nightgown. You stutter and are at a loss for words. He wanted you to fuck him?

“My prince if you wish to perform your marital duties you are free to at any time.” He whines and shakes his head, looking up at you with a pout. “No i want you to fuck me. I’ve been good i promise, i havent gone to any brothels, not since that day mommy i promise.” MOMMY? you liked being called mommy in his whiny voice a bit too much and you simply stare at the top of his head for awhile as you try to think of what to say.

“You still come home drunk.” He looks up at you and you merely blink at him. You are more than sure he will not remember this tomorrow so you will merely say what you need to to get him to stop talking about this. “And you reek of alcohol.”

“If i stop drinking and i stop coming home drunk you will fuck me?” “yes.” You are more than glad he will not remember this in the morning. He rolls off of you and to his side of the bed, his back turned to you. “What are you doing?” “Going to sleep so i can start my vow of sobriety.”

His snores quickly fill the room and you blow out the candle next to you and get under the sheets, staring at the darkness with a racing heart. He does not mean it, he will forget about this tomorrow and this will all be a terrible dream.

You are shocked as you wake up the next day and he is stilly lying in bed, merely staring at the ceiling until you flip the covers off and move to get out of bed, “Good morning.” “Morning.” You barely look at him as you move to get dressed for the day. Rummaging through the closet until you pull out a dress and hang it on your mirror. You look at him through the mirror, “Are you going to watch me get undressed?” “It is wrong to?”

You say nothing but simply stare at him until you slowly move the straps of your dress and your nightgowns falls to the floor and you are completely bare.

“So how long must i be sober? A day? a week? a month?” You freeze and turn your head back to look at him.

“what are you talking about-” “were you the one who had been drunk last night wife? must i remind you of what we had discussed?”

You bring the dress you had meant to wear today closer to your chest to cover yourself as you feel a sense of shame wash over you. “If you wish to mock me so then do it.” His head tilts at you as you stare down at the ground. “why would i wish to mock you?

“asking me to fuck you after you had found that horrid device you must mean to mock me…” He quickly stand and you back up until you hit the mirror and he is standing in front of you. “I do not mean to mock you. I had avoided you in the past because i had been under the impression you were just like every other lady at the court but i know now you were made for me, we were made to be together. I have wished to have a lady like you, to fill my wildest desires, i wish for you to do anything you wish. To rule body and use me like a toy. To fuck me like i am nothing but a whore on silk street.”

You stare at him with wide eyes as he drops to his knees and looks at you like you are a goddess. “I was born to serve you. I am at you every whim and every wish.”

You feel something overcome you as he stares up and you and you lose every ounce of self control you have.

“Stand.” He quickly stands up and stares at you eagerly noticing the new look in your eyes.

“Strip.”

He rushes to rip off his shirt and pants and awaits your instructions. You snap your fingers and point to the bed where he quickly moves to sit down on it. You walk over to him and grab his chin to tilt his head upwards. “You want mommy to take care of you?” He lets out a long whine as he nods his head feverishly.

“lay on your stomach.” he follows your instructions without complaining like a loyal mutt. He has no clue what youre doing but he can hear you rummaging around the room, your bare feet peddling against the ground for a few moments and he finds himself unable to lay still, wiggling and whimpering to himself as he grows impatient, on of his hands even begins to slide down to stroke himself before you slap his ass and he moans. “Thought you were a good boy huh? what happened to him?”

“no no i am i am i promise im sorry im sorry.” You slap him again, “I dont wanna hear it.” He continues to mumble and whimper until he feels you shove two oiled inside him and he lets out a high pitched noise and bites the pillow he’s pressing his head against.

“Loose. you're such a fucking whore, look at you.” He doesn’t not respond not that you expected him too but he gets louder and louder the more and more you continue to thrust your fingers in and out of him, reeling in the feeling of you presses kisses against his back and the way your free hand wraps around his cock and toys around with his tip.

“look at you, so fucking pathetic. I bet youve been dreaming of this for months huh, sick freak.” He babbles like a baby unable to form any words or any thoughts the closer he gets, precum pouring out of his tip that you use to pump him slowly. He is so close he can taste it, what hes been craving for so long, he wants it so bad he wants to please you.

Yet you pull away right as hes on the brink and he can barely control himself. Tears begin to spring from his eyes and be turns his head towards you, whimpering. “please.” “you’ll take what i give you.” “but mommy-“ “who said you can talk back?”

He sniffles, “im sorry mommy im sorry please i just wanna be good for you mommy.” his words are slurred and you cant help but feel your heart ache slightly and you grab his cheek, rubbing away his tears with his thumb, “you good?”

He nods, and leans against your cheek sniffles again. “I just wanna be good for you mommy.” You nod and press a kiss against his lips and when you pull away he chases after you lightly as he looks at you with glowing eyes. “You’re so pretty baby, such a good boy, mommys gonna take care of you okay?” “yes yes please please.”

He lets out a gasp as he feels your wooden strap begin to slowly push its way into his pulsing hole. You barely give him anytime to adjust before you begin to vigorously thrust in and out of him. Gripping onto his hair for stability.

The tears begin to pour down his face as he grabs his cock with his free hand, bringing himself closer to release as his hips move back to meet yours. You find yourself unable to hide your amusement as he grows more and more desperate, heaving and whining the closer and closer he gets to release, letting out incoherent babbles of nonsense.

When he releases he lets out a scream that your sure the whole keep could hear, his body shaking as his seed spills out onto the bedsheets below him, sobs racking his body. You press a long kiss against his lips and he shakily returns it. When you had thought you would be doomed to a life of misery it appears you were wrong as your life just got a whole lot more interesting.

[nhlclover]

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: you return from a girls trip to nashville to your unusually clingy boyfriend

warnings: jack being a horny clingy boyfriend, v short sorry!

word count: 0.61k

As you stepped off the plane, the exhaustion of the past week began to settle over you like a heavy blanket. You’d spent the last few days in Nashville for one of your friend's bachelorette parties. The trip was filled with endless drinking and nights spent on Broadway in every country bar you could find.

Now, back in New Jersey with your energy sucked dry, you couldn’t wait to be back in your own bed. As you approached baggage claim, you spotted Jack, his eyes impatiently scanning around. When they landed on you, his face lit up. He didn’t wait for you to come to him, instead weaving through the crowd and meeting you where you stood.

He wrapped you up in his arms, holding you close to him as if he was scared to let go. You couldn’t help but giggle at your boyfriend's greeting. You had been gone only five days but Jack was acting as if you’d been away for months.

“Aw, did you miss me?” you asked teasingly. Jack simply nodded, his grip tight and unwavering. You giggle, finding a way to pull back slightly, looking into your boyfriend's soft eyes. “I missed you too.”

Eventually, you collected your bag from the conveyor belt, heading out to the parking lot where Jack’s car was parked. As you walked to the car, Jack's arm remained firmly around your waist.

Bag in hand, you made your way to the parking lot, Jack's arm still securely around your waist. The drive home was filled with easy conversation and stolen glances by Jack, just glad to have you in his presence again. When you got back to your apartment, you spotted Luke lounging on the couch, watching the Lakers game.

“Oh thank God you’re back.” Luke sighed upon seeing you. “He’s been pouting the whole time you were gone like a lost puppy.”

Jack shot a look at him. “I was not pouting.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking at Jack. “Seriously, babe? You know, you're always off on road trips and you never act like this when you get back.”

Jack shrugged sheepishly, his hand finding hers once again. “I dunno… it was different this time.”

A small blush crept on his cheeks, your teasing expression softening as you brushed a stray lock of hair from Jack's forehead. “Well, even though I had fun in Nashville, I missed you too and I’m glad to be back. So you can stop pouting.”

"Good," he said, pulling you close again. "Because I really did miss you."

Luke snorted from the couch. "Alright, lovebirds, not in the living room. Some of us are trying to watch TV here."

You rolled your eyes and tugged Jack toward the bedroom. "Come on, let's give Luke his space," you say. “You can help me unpack.”

You grabbed your suitcase, bringing it into your bedroom, glad to be back in the familiar space. Jack’s clinginess didn’t subside as he trailed you closely, hands never straying from your touch.

“Jack, seriously, what’s gotten into you?” you ask once again. You turn in his arms, looking into his eyes, noting his sudden change in demeanour.

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I really did miss you,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes, suddenly understanding his clinginess. “Seriously? This is why you were pouting? Cause you were horny?”

Jack’s sheepish smile was your only answer before he leaned in to kiss you deeply. Your playful resistance melted away as you responded to his kiss, pulling him closer. Your teasing turned into a passionate reunion as you let yourselves get lost in each other’s touch.

[luveline]

hiiiiiiiii jade! <3

would you be willing to write a fic about girl dad!spencer x bombshell!reader? i can only imagine what an adorable riot their daughter would be!!!

tysm!

ty for requesting!! mom!reader

Spencer always thought you were too beautiful for him. Too funny, too brave, too confident. For years he feared he’d never be anyone you could love; he was the opposite of all your best parts, he talked too much about the wrong things, he went red whenever you so much as looked at him, and he couldn’t flirt back, not for anything. 

But it’s been a very long time since he felt that way. What good is a father who doesn’t believe in being yourself? Amanda deserved to be loved from the moment she drew breath, and he shouldn’t have been any different. 

Now, though, he’s wondering if he shouldn’t be so accepting of all her whims. “I am not wearing that, daddy,” she says. 

She’s just old enough to put together sentences but young enough that the individual words sound like building blocks, chunky and clumsy on her little mouth. Her lips are yours, her smiles and frowns one hundred percent you. (Though you argue with him often that the quizzical pout she does is all his.)

“What do you mean, angel?” he asks, bent over her sock drawer looking for a matching pair. 

“This is pink, and this is purple.” She points. 

“Yes, and you like pink and purple!” 

“I like pink… and I like purple,” she says. 

“But not together?” he asks knowingly. “You want them at different times, is that it?” 

She runs for his legs, hugging them tightly. “Thank you.” 

“You’re so much like your mommy it’s scary,” he whispers playfully, leaning down to pat her small back. “Okay, angel. I’ll find you a different dress to wear. Or maybe the dungarees!”

She lifts her chin up to smile at him. “Y’okay.” 

“Spencer, Amy!” you call, voice carrying from the kitchen. “Are you guys ready? We have to go soon and you haven’t even eaten!” 

Spencer used to sit at his desk daydreaming about you. He’d drink five cups of tea a day to get to walk past you for the kitchenette, hoping you’d be making a coffee, that you’d flirt with him over corporate rewarded donuts. Now you’re making him breakfast as he persuades your daughter into jelly shoes because she wants tall shoes like mommy. They compromise —Any will wear the wrong shoes if Spencer agrees to carry her to the kitchen table. 

“Sorry,” Spencer says as he pushes open the door into the kitchen. He's trying to be the best dad he can be all the time, but he doesn’t have a knack for the mornings like you do. “We won’t be late.” 

“That depends on how agreeable my lovely girl is feeling today.” You pick up the pink plastic plate you’ve filled with eggs, toast, and a mix of washed berries. “What do you think, Amy? Looks nummy?”

“Chocolate chip?” she asks, eyes already widening. 

“It’s breakfast, honey,” you say, scooping her out of Spencer’s arm to carry her to the table. “Chocolate chips are for dinner.” 

“Please?”

“If you promise to be really super duper good at Uncle Derek’s, then yes, you can have some chocolate chips,” you say, tucking her chair in, and kissing her chubby cheek. “You want me to make you milk or juice, mm?”

Spencer spots the two plates you’ve made up for you and him on the counter and quickly brings them to the table, sliding yours in front of you with a long-pronged fork, his hand on your shoulder to keep you in your seat. “I’ll get it,” he says, ducking down to kiss you on the side of the mouth. 

You turn to Amy. “See that, sweetheart? See how nice and kind your daddy is to me? He’s soooo nice. This is why we love him so much, and we appreciate him so much.” 

Amy nods emphatically, blueberries tumbling off of her plastic fork. “So much,” she echoes, her voice like melting sugar. 

He has a weird moment by the fridge where he has to grip the handle. “You know I used to dream about making you a cup of coffee in the mornings?” he asks. 

“Spencer, come over here and kiss me again, please,” you say, sympathetic and fond.

“Me too!” Amy says through fruit. “Me first.” 

“Oh, gosh, this is one of the hardest decisions of my life,” he says, sweeping in to dot your cheeks with kisses, hers then yours, three apiece.

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, chronic pain, some talk of traumatic injury

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

At five thirty in the morning, you send Sirius a text. 

Be on time, and there’s a caramel latte in your future. If you’re late I’m giving it to Marcello. 

Marcello is the guy who comes in early every morning to resurface the ice. You actually ordered a drink for him, too, but Sirius doesn’t need to know that. 

The morning air is cool and refreshing, sweeping across your cheeks in the self-made breeze of your brisk steps. You can only have one hand in your pocket with the other holding the drink carrier, but you don’t mind the bite of cold on your fingers. You’ve always loved the sharp, clean feel of winter weather. Though Sirius complains this time of year about leaving practice just to encounter yet more cold outside, the chilly air has always made you feel alive, invigorated. It wakes you up as you walk to the rink. 

Marcello leaves the staff door open for you every morning so that you can practice early. He’s still out on the Zamboni, so you leave his drink on the front desk where he’ll see it. You know you’re not the first person to the rink, but it surprises you that you’re not the second. 

It surprises you even more to find your new coach in the off-ice room. 

Remus is lying on the floor, one knee bent and the other ankle crossed over it in a stretch you recognize. His eyes are closed and his expression pinched. His chest rises and falls with deep, measured breaths. 

“Hi.” 

You try to announce your presence softly, but Remus' eyes fly open like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. You find yourself taking a step back as though to avoid frightening him. 

“Sorry,” you say automatically, and automatically, Sirius’ For what, doll? sounds in your head like an overplayed song. You set your shoulders back and walk over to Remus, crouching to set his drink beside him on the floor. You’ve wagered your bets on a plain tea; he seems like the no-nonsense sort. “I didn’t expect anyone else here this early, but this is for you.” 

“Thanks.” Remus grunts quietly as he sits up, and you pretend you don’t hear. He takes a tentative sip from his cup. You deduce that you’ve wagered correctly when his eyes close blissfully. “I can go if you want the room to stretch.” 

“That’s alright. Plenty of room for both of us,” you say awkwardly. 

But as soon as you set your foot up on the ballet bar, you second-guess yourself. Is it difficult for him, watching you do things he can no longer do himself? You knew about Remus’ injury—everyone does—but seeing his face creased in pain doing such a simple stretch is another thing entirely. 

You watch him covertly as you bend over your leg, feeling the pleasant strain in your muscles, but Remus’ expression doesn’t change. He only stands, taking his ankle in one hand and wrapping the other around the bar as he stretches his quads. 

Remus has long fingers, you’ve noticed. Pianist’s fingers. They make you think of every routine of his you’ve seen a million times, arms and hands always outstretched to emphasize the facile grace of his movements. He was art in motion, in his day. Now you’re not sure what he is. Still lovely, but something else. 

“I wanted to apologize.” 

Remus’ voice breaks into your reverie so gently that at first you think you’ve imagined it. You look up at him, bemused, and his gaze is steady on yours. It’s that skater’s poise. Quiet, resolute. 

“I didn’t mean to shout at you yesterday,” he says. “I was frustrated because I feel like you really could get past that jump with just a tiny adjustment—” his face tenses as some of that frustration seeps back into his voice now, but Remus quells it “—but I shouldn’t have raised my voice. Sirius was right, I wasn’t telling you in a way that was helpful.” 

“It’s okay.” Your voice comes out smaller than you mean for it to, but the air in the room feels thick and awkward. You’re not used to needing to have these conversations with people on your team. You, Sirius, and your coach used to be a unit. There was no need for shouting matches and make-ups. You had years of history together; you knew how to handle each other. You miss that ease terribly now. 

“What I should have said,” Remus goes on, “is that I’ve noticed you hesitating before a lot of higher difficulty jumps. You’ll be about to go into it, and then you second-guess yourself and under-rotate. That doesn’t work on the ice.” 

You drop your gaze, nodding. “I know,” you say as you swap legs on the bar. “I’ll try to stop.” 

“We’ll work on it.” Remus’ voice softens, and you glance up to find a sheepish sort of kindness in his eyes. One corner of his mouth lifts tentatively. “And I’ll work on giving better feedback the first time around.” 

You return his smile, a heavy load in your chest lifting just slightly. It feels like the return of your cautious optimism from before yesterday’s practice, like flirting with the possibility of everything being all right after all. Maybe you can salvage the season after all. 

Sirius practically stomps into the room, dark circles under both eyes and looking like he hates the world and everyone in it. Remus’ almost-smile evaporates. 

“Here you are.” You pass Sirius his coffee magnanimously. “Thank you for being on time.” 

He takes a long sip. Once he’s finished, he says gravely, “This can’t continue.” 

“You’ll get used to it,” you promise as Remus lets his foot drop and steps away from the bar to make room for Sirius. 

“Ten minutes of stretching,” your coach says gruffly. You feel your lips purse dissatisfiedly; you take this to mean that although he’s apologized to you, he’s not over his tiff with Sirius from the day before. Remus turns from the room. “I’ll see you out there.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You manage to get through practice without bloodshed. Remus is short and businesslike, but while his pointers don’t leave much room for conversation he does take the time to make sure you understand him and he praises you when you improve. Sirius doesn’t spare many words for your new coach, though you know him saying little is likely an improvement over what he’d have to say if he did speak up. Still, he’s not exactly thorough in making sure Remus doesn’t see the smirks and derisive looks he sends your way every time your coach’s voice reaches you across the ice. The other boy pretends not to notice. 

It doesn’t escape you either that Remus has far less critiques for Sirius than for you. Sirius is more likely to get ahead of himself so that he falls out of sync with you, whereas you’re more likely to fall in general. 

You didn’t used to be like this. Just a handful of weeks ago you and Sirius were an equal match, but recent events have planted an anxiety in you that makes you bail out of your risker jumps and sabotages your routine. Remus is right; you’re hesitant. Sirius throws himself into every move, full-bodied and artful, but you just can’t do the same. Until you can catch up and get back to where you were, you’re a liability. 

You land most of your jumps, fall on more than usual, and by the time practice wraps up you know you’ll be bruised all over. If Remus is frustrated with you again, he’s better at hiding it. He only instructs you to work on whatever mental block is hindering you, promises to see you both tomorrow, and goes. 

Then Sirius can’t contain himself any longer. 

“God, what a prick,” he fumes as he puts guards on his skates. He starts undoing his laces, nails cut short for the season but still painted a shimmery black. “I hate that stupid line he gets between his eyebrows right before he lays into us. He’s like a sixty-year-old schoolteacher stuck in a twenty-something body.” 

You look down to hide a smile. “He was nicer today, though. That’s something.” 

Sirius scoffs. “Yeah, so was I. Did you lay into him, too?” 

“Didn’t have to,” you say complacently. “He apologized himself. You know, like adults do.” 

“Don’t be daft. He’s not taking the high road, he just doesn’t want to lose his job.” 

You turn to give Sirius an exasperated look, only he’s looking back at you with a similar expression. 

You know Sirius thinks you’re being too trusting of your new coach. He only wants to protect you, both of you, but something he’s never been able to grasp is that optimism doesn’t have to be blind. You can be wary of Remus, can have that same desire to protect the team you and Sirius have built together, and at the same time be hopeful that he really will be the thing you need. You’re desperate to make this work for the both of you. You’re a pair in repair, and though it was your former coach that broke you, if there’s a chance that Remus could fix things you’re ready to welcome him with open arms. 

Peter was Sirius’ friend before he was yours. He fell into coaching you both almost by accident, it felt so natural. Both you and Sirius had coaches throughout your childhoods, but it was nice to have someone around your own age, who viewed skating through the same lens as you did and could talk to you on a more personal level. Peter was your friend in a way your other coaches hadn’t been. That made his betrayal sting all the worse. 

There had been a hearing, when Peter’s texts came out. The International Skating Union had gotten involved. He’d been sharing things—tips, secrets, videos of your entire routine from start to finish—with another team. It felt odd, reading about it in the news. Almost invasive. It felt like something you should be discussing back at Sirius’, the three of you sat in your usual places around his living room, hashing it out the way you always did. But you weren’t a unit anymore. 

Sirius didn’t want another coach at all after that. You could keep each other in check, he said, and realistically anyone you hired would know all about your recent disaster with Peter. Your names were attached to one of the largest figure skating scandals the community had had in years. You saw the logic in your partner’s reluctance, but you still thought you needed an outside perspective to tell you when you both were going wrong. You needed a real coach. Then, you’d thought of Remus. 

You wish you could say it was Remus’ illustrious figure skating career that drew you to him. He was the golden boy of the sport for nearly a decade, shooting up into stardom at an unprecedented age. He earned enough medals to likely break whatever shelf his family tried to put them on, and he took home gold for Britain at just seventeen. But truthfully, it was his isolation that appealed to you. 

Remus Lupin left the figure skating community entirely after his injury. He’d returned to his hometown in Wales, reportedly to be with his family but more likely to heal—physically and mentally, from the hip dislocation that cost him Worlds and then the rest of his career. By all accounts, he would have been the last person to follow your hearing or any of the ensuing gossip everyone else you spoke to seemed to take as gospel. You had to fight tooth and nail to get Sirius to let you hire Remus, and even still he’s resistant to the addition to your team. But it’s in Sirius’ nature to expect people to hurt him; you have to be the opposite to compensate. 

“He said you were right,” you say lightly. 

Sirius blinks. “Pardon?” 

You shrug, feigning insouciance. “I don’t think it’s likely he’ll ever say it to your face, but this morning Remus told me that you were right, and he does need to communicate his feedback better. He seemed better about it today, right? I think it’s sweet that he’s trying.” 

Sirius scowls, standing while you finish packing up. “He’s kissing your ass because he knows you were the one who wanted him. He doesn’t give a shit about us.” 

“I didn’t mention anything,” you reply. “And he may not, but he definitely gives a shit about skating. I walked in on him stretching in the off-ice room this morning. It was…sad.” A small part of you feels wrong for sharing this, even with Sirius; it felt like a private moment you’d intruded on, although Remus had been stretching in a public place. “You can tell he really misses it, you know?” 

Sirius is quiet for a beat, and when you look over he’s sucking his teeth. Peering at you in that way of his, like he’s got you all figured out. 

“You should have a heart-to-heart with him about it,” he says blankly. “He seems like the sort of bloke who really enjoys a pity party.” 

“Prick.” You stand, bumping your shoulder into his roughly. Sirius wraps an arm around them to bind you to his side, walking you towards the exit. “We’re stopping for donuts on our way home. You owe me after I bought your coffee.” 

“Oi, bribery’s no good if I have to pay it back. And what would your new favorite coach say about us eating those during the season?” 

“The same as any coach; nothing, because we’re not gonna tell him.”

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.6

christmas special

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

summary : Christmas has arrived and so has Y/n and Lando’s final night together…

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : kissing! very suggestive! swearing!!!

words : 4870

⋆༺

I turn up the volume on my phone while P is singing along loudly to ‘I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus’. Y/n is dancing in her little ‘kiss the chef’ apron while Max makes hot chocolate.

I cut up carrots and mash the potatoes, getting hit when I try to eat some of the pigs in a blanket Max is making.

I take the liberty of doing the one thing I know how, making drinks! I opt out considering my head still hurts but eat the leftover olives.

Max laughs while I shake the drinks and dance around as Y/n tries to get past me. I block her way, singing the words and shake the metal in her face.

She gives me a frown that I know is just a front. I take her hand and spin her around as she tries to keep her plate still, “Norris!”

“Fewtrell!” I echo, laughing as she sets the plate down. She’s smiling now, hands on hips and everything.

It’s moments like these where I wish I could tell her, where I wish I could ignore her brother and P and just kiss her.

I’m immediately sobered when Max starts choking on a carrot and makes it all about himself.

⋆༺

I find Y/n in her room, bent over and digging around her closet. The creek of the door shutting behind me makes her turn back, “Don’t stop on my accord.” I mumble, walking closer.

A week ago, she would probably just roll her eyes, and she does, but this time she’s got a smile on her face. It’s a weird feeling, not having to chase her for those little glimpses of affection. I like it.

“You look really nice.” Her lips are dark red, her dress is short and black and based on her one heel, I'm assuming she was looking for her other shoe.

“I’d look better with two shoes.” She says, sticking her head back into her closet. I lean over her shoulder, peeking in, “Hey!”

She turns quickly, a hand on my chest, “No looking! I have presents in there.” I walk backwards with the force of her hand.

I smile, “You still haven’t wrapped them?”

“I’m a busy girl and last night I was busy taking care of some drunken idiot who just wanted to kiss me.”

The back of my legs hit her bed frame, forcing me to sit on her bed and turn my head upward to look at her. She’s between my legs as I move my hands to the back of her thighs, just above her skirt hem.

I run my hands up and down slowly, “Can you take care of this sober idiot who just wants to kiss you?”

She moves her hands to slide past my chest and onto my shoulders. Her hair is curled and falling into her face. My heart genuinely hurts for a second because how can someone so perfect even care about me?

She leans in and kisses me in a way that’s so soft and makes me want to hold her forever. I like how her nails scratch my skin and drift into my hair, I love how she lets me touch her.

A knock at her door makes us both jump and as soon as P starts talking, she walks backwards while I stand. “Y/n!” She knocks again and when I wipe my mouth, I see red lipstick on my hand. “I can’t find my Tory burch bag and it has all my lip…” Her speech slows when she enters the room and sees the two of us, “products in it…”

“Sorry! I haven’t seen it.” I don’t dare turn around in fear of what I look like, but I hear Y/n pretending to look for it.

“Oh. Alright…” P hums as I pretend to be extra interested in the snow outside, “I’ll go check my room again.

I know P and I know she doesn’t shut the door on purpose. As soon as I look back at Y/n, her hand goes to her mouth.

“Oh no…” She laughs, taking my hand and dragging me to the bathroom. I’ve got lipstick all over my mouth and hers is a bit smeared in the corner.

I take my thumb and fix hers, smiling as she eyes my face, “You look ridiculous.”

“Worth it.” I laugh and go to kiss her again but she backs up.

“Lando, you’re already a mess.”

“Yes, so it's not a big deal if you get more on me.” I try again, her face in my hands as she laughs and stops me.

“It’s a big deal if you fuck up mine even more!” She shakes her head in my hands which just messes up her hair, “Lando. I’m not above having Max see.”

I shrug, “Let him. I don’t care.”

I realize she didn’t mean her words the second I speak. She twists her mouth up, looking down. The issue isn’t that I don’t care, it’s that she does.

I drop my hands and breath out, “Right.”

I use her makeup remover, she doesn’t help me, just sits on the counter and watches me.

“You look really good too, you know.” She says it quickly and looks back down at her swinging feet after.

I bite back a smile and keep moving the towel over my face, “Thank you.”

We sit in silence for a bit longer, taking extra time to wash my face. I splash myself with water, flicking her with what’s on my hand.

She laughs just before we hear Max’s voice, “Lando?” He sounds hesitant but very loud.

“Yes?” I yell back as Y/n hits me. I look at her in confusion because what else am I supposed to do?

“Where are you?”

“Y/n’s bathroom!” I yell as Y/n hits me repeatedly, “I couldn’t find… hair gel!” She groans and hops off the counter as I laugh to myself.

“Oh. Okay.” Max says back, “Well, come here!” I go to kiss Y/n on her cheek but she slips out of the bathroom.

“I’m still missing a shoe!”

⋆༺

I’m being forced to take photos of Y/n and P. Luckily they moved inside because I was freezing my ass off. The two of them laugh and hug in front of the fireplace when Max comes in, “Alright, parents want a photo.”

P moves and Max and Y/n just smile, Y/n putting bunny ears on Max when he isn’t looking.

“I can’t believe it’s Christmas eve.” P sighs, opening the oven to check on her so called ‘masterpiece’.

“Honestly, this trip has been the best.” We all turn to Y/n, almost surprised at her clear joy.

“I thought you two would have killed each other by now.” Max says honestly, helping P take the roast out of the oven.

“I was not that pissed at him!”

At Y/n’s words, My jaw drops, “Not ‘that’ pissed!? You hated me! You never even smiled around me!”

She scoffs as Max laughs, “It’s true, Y/n. Why did you even hate him?”

“I… that’s not important! Lando you’re not so innocent either! You took every opportunity to bug me!” We all sit around the small table that’s filled with food, Max and P sitting across from the two of us.

I’m smirking now, “Yeah maybe.”

“Either way, you two were annoying as fuck.” P shakes her head and pours everyone wine, “But I love you both so much more now that you’ve made up!”

“Yeah… what’s up with the sudden change anyway?” Max cuts into his meat while I look at Y/n. That’s something for her to answer and me to avoid.

“I matured.”

Max laughs, “In a week?”

She kicks him under the table, “Do you want me to go back to hating your best friend?”

He shakes his head with a laugh on his face. P is the best cook I know and our food is devoured quickly. We all stay in a food coma, slumped in our chairs and laughing at old stories.

I watch Y/n laugh, swirling her wine in her glass as she tells a story from highschool. I wonder what we would be like if I went to school with her back then… That and if she didn’t hate me.

“You guys should all come to australia.” I say before I even think about it, “In march for the race.”

“I’m always down for a free race pass.” Max says while P nods.

“That sounds really great, Lan. Thanks!”

“I can’t, gotta work.” Y/n shrugs as I roll my eyes.

“Just tell your boss your-” I want to say her boyfriend invited her to his race but I choose life right now. I don’t think Max will kill me, But Y/n might. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

I tap her knee with my fingers as she looks at me. It’s that look she gives when she doesn’t want to give in. “Please?”

She bites her bottom lip, looking back to her plate and shrugging, “I’ll ask.”

“Yay!” P squeals, “I love australia! Except the spiders in beds.” She sobers and I let out a laugh, reminded of how Y/n screamed when the spider crawled on her.

Y/n laughs with me, starting to cough and shake her head. Max and P stare at us like we’re delusional, “What?”

“Nothing….” Y/n looks at me, smiling still, “I hate the spiders.”

We stay at the table while the Christmas lights and decorations light up the kitchen. Max and I clean the kitchen while the girls tell us new gossip and old drama.

As the night whines down, I start thinking about Y/n’s present more and more. I’m scared to give it to her, not because I don’t think she’ll like it, but because it proves how much I like her.

Fuck I sound whipped. I am whipped.

Y/n has her knees up to her chest in the dining chair, laughing at something P said and nodding enthusiastically. She flips her hair over her shoulder as I turn back to Max.

He’s looking at me funny but I just continue washing the plates.

⋆༺

you

There’s no knock, no voice, just the slight creek of our connecting door. My room is dark but the lights are on outside so they shine through the windows.

I see him walk closer, he’s in a hoodie and pajama pants, “Hi.” Is all he whispers.

“Hey.” I say back.

I realize he’s holding something when he sits on my bed, “I have your present.” He says as I reach for the lamp and turn it on.

Turning back to him, he looks happy and a bit shy. It’s a small box, wrapped nicely in brown paper which is a surprise.

“You want me to open it now? You know tomorrow is Christmas, right?” A small smile plays at his lips as he nods and scoots closer, fully on my bed now.

“I just wanted you to open it alone. I mean, without Max and P.” I raise a brow, “It’s nothing bad… I'm just, honestly, a bit embarrassed.”

I rip the paper open carefully, a bit nervous at what awaits me. It’s a leather box and when I open it, my jaw drops a little. “Lan… it’s beautiful.”

It’s a locket. Simple yet so stunning.

It’s a heart, with tiny engraving of swirls and hearts on it. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say.” He goes to leave but I grab his hand.

The touch makes him look back, and sit down. “I just don’t get it… why would you be embarrassed?”

He thinks for a moment, opening and closing his mouth before laughing dryly, “You hated me. And I really liked you- I do really like you. I guess it’s just… to me, jewelry is meaningful and something I shouldn’t give to someone who hates me.”

He likes me. He really likes me… “You got this before the trip?” I ask as his hand goes to the back of his neck.

“Mhm. Actually, in barcelona.” Oh.

I went to the spanish grand prix with Max, he was in such a bad mood the whole weekend that we only got him out to go drink.

On the way, though, we started arguing about the importance of gift giving. Max shut us up after five minutes of non stop chatter and we stayed far away from each other while we drank.

But after… “We went past that thrift store.” I say, “The one with the locket in the window.” I was so drunk I'm surprised I even remember, but I snapped a photo and saw it in my camera roll months ago.

“You really liked it.” He shrugs, “I thought it would look good on you.” I think he’s about to rest his hand on me, but instead he gently presses his finger against the side of the locket, opening it.

On one side, there’s a photo of us. It’s from days ago when I was face down in the snow, still on his shoulders. I laugh as I look to the other side, smiling at the group selfie we all got with Santa.

“I love it.” I say, “It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.” It’s odd, actually accepting how much Lando cares.

He laughs a bit, “It was like twenty pounds…”

“That doesn’t matter.” I hold the cold piece of jewelry in my hands, “It’s too lovely for the value to be decided in money.”

“Since when did you get all philosophical?” He laughs a bit, running a hand through his curls as I rest the gift in the box and put it on my bedside table.

I shrug, “Since this really cute guy decided to do something really sweet.” I take his hand in mine, “Mines not nearly as nice as that.”

Lando doesn’t miss a beat, “Maybe I should cash in my whole drunken karaoke prize.”

I don’t think for once, just laugh and hold the back of his neck, kissing him. “Stop.” He says, making me frown.

“Just one more thing… I don’t want this to be some throwaway vacation thing.” He takes a breath of confidence, “I meant what I said, I really like you. I think you’re really beautiful, Sunshine… and I'm not just saying that to get you in bed because well… we’re already in bed.”

I’m not shocked, more surprised? And happy. And laughing. “I really like you too, even if you are an idiot.”

He sighs, resting his forehead against mine, “Good because fuck you’re scary and-”

“Just shut up and kiss me.” And he does.

I fall back onto my pillows, the weight of Lando over me making me smile against his lips. “You’re so perfect.” He whispers as his hand goes under my shirt.

I moan a bit under his touch, his tongue slipping into my mouth. He knows me partially already, knows my body, knows that I go weak in the knees when he kisses the crook of my neck.

“Lando.” I say, already breathless and leaning back into the bed.

“Say my name again.”

“Lan…” His hand gropes my boob, making me moan and bite my lip to quiet it.

“Good girl, stay quiet for me.” His words make me squirm and cause my panties to wet, “Just to be clear, I did not come in here with the intent on staying.”

This makes me laugh, tugging off his hoodie. No shirt under, of course. Slut. “I don’t care, fuck me.”

His breathing is the only thing I can focus on in the quiet of the night, on top of me, shirtless, and hard. “I mean, if this is my prize, i’ll take it.”

He kisses me again, mentioning the words that have been circulating my brain for the past day.

‘What’ll you give me if I do?’

I push him off me, smirking as he groans, “Y/n-” He stops when I hop off the bed, turning towards me.

“I have a better prize in mind.” I slip the hair tie off my wrist and wrap it into my hair, Lando shakes his head in disbelief as he watches me.

His legs swing over the edge, waiting, practically drooling. I smile as I sink to my knees and his hand goes to my face, then hair.

His finger hooks into my hair tie, pulling it out and grinning as he replaces it with his hand.

His hands are so big that he only needs one, scooping up my hair and holding it tight, “Feel okay?” He whispers as I tug down his sweats, “You don’t have to.”

I blink up at him as my hand makes contact with his clothed dick. He whimpers a bit, “Your turn to be quiet.” I tug off his underwear. He's hard and staring down at me, his arm behind him to brace himself.

He sucks in a breath as I take his dick in my hand, teasing the tip with my tongue, “Fuck, I used to dream about this.”

“Don’t worry love, you’re not in a wet dream.” I grin before taking him into my mouth, watching his head tilt back and listening to the little moans that slip out. Best Christmas ever.

⋆༺

lando

I’ve been told my ‘love language’ is physical touch.

I never really believed it until I became close with Y/n.

I want to touch her all the time, I just want to be close to her.

I wake up with her in my arms, still peacefully sleeping. She’s naked in a sort of euphoric way, the true sort of intimacy.

She stirs against me, her hair falling over my arm as she cuddles into my chest. Last night was… everything. She’s so fucking amazing and, i’ve learned, very talented.

Her eyes open slowly, looking up at me and immediately smiling, “Merry Christmas.” I whisper, kissing the top of her head.

“Very merry.” She kisses my neck because she’s too far down and doesn’t seem like she wants to move. I drift my fingers over her neck, absolutely, and sadly, spotless.

But then I slip the blanket off of her, admiring her body and every freckle on it. I move my hand between her thighs, which she squeezes together and groans, “I’m sore.”

“That tracks.” I say, moving my hand to her knee and looking down at her bruised thighs. “You look incredible with my marks on you.”

She laughs when she sees them, still half asleep, “Mmm…” I squeeze her ass just because I can, “Santa came.” She mumbles.

“Someone else came too-” she hits my arm at the joke. I laugh and climb over her, kissing her again. Her lips are swollen and is still making those noises that shouldn’t affect me as much as they do.

She tugs the blanket over us, “I’m freezing.” She says, wrapping her legs around me. My cock practically screams at the content, “Warm me up, Lando.”

I groan at her words, “Say please, Sunshine.”

“Please.” She whispers in my ear and in this moment I realize, I would do absolutely anything she asked of me.

⋆༺

“Happy Christmas!” P sings as she plops down next to me, hugging me tight and handing me a gift.

I throw Max my present as Y/n opens one from P. I got Max a new computer and a hat. I rip the wrapping off and laugh at the shirt P got me.

It’s got her and Max’s faces on it. “Wow that’s P, I look forward to burning it.” She shoves me and smiles at the present I got her.

I got her a card game and a pair of shoes she wouldn’t shut up about. Y/n pulls a santa hat onto my head and I don’t object, just watch her open her second present from me.

“Look… I got this when I knew you hated me a bit more than you do now.” Yeah my other gift was before too, but that was drunken and I didn’t expect to actually give it to her.

Her jaw drops when she opens the gift, “I hate you again!” She throws the stuffy at me. I may or may not have gotten her a pillow… with her face on it… edited onto an elf’s body. “Freak!”

“Come on, you look cute!” I laugh, showing Max and P, “How’d you get back so fast from working all night? Aren’t you tired?”

She frowns, “I could ask you the same question, you look tall next to a thirteen year old! That’s it!” I scoff as she throws me a wrapped box, “From me, to you.”

I open it. It looks like a padel racket but has a string and a ball attached. “Innovative.” I say, bouncing the ball back and forth. I like it, but the gift she gave me last night was much better.

Max settles us down as she sticks her tongue out at me. We finish opening presents and with Max and Y/n’s matching sweaters, I take just about a million photos before Y/n pulls it off in a huff.

Max makes us all coffee and we stay around the tree, sitting in wrapping paper and miscellaneous gifts.

Y/n grabs a candy cane off the tree, popping it into her mouth. “Why do you love peppermint coffee so much?”

She eyes me, grabbing another candy cane and handing it to me, “You try.” I go to sip my coffee but she stops me, “Wait I added peppermint in mine!” So I sip hers, accidentally making eye contact with her and almost spitting the coffee out.

I start to cough and laugh at the same time while Y/n just giggles, “You like it?”

I lick my candy cane and nod, still recovering,“It’s alright.”

She smiles, satisfied that I didn’t dislike the drink. She’s dressed in pink sweats and a white hoodie P got her. Her hair is up and practically falling out of her bun. Her hands wrap around the mug, pulling her knees to her chest and humming.

She’s so beautiful and it makes me so happy that she looks so content. Her nails tap against the ceramic, making a satisfying sound in the peacefulness of our little christmas.

She notices me staring, our eyes meeting in a familiar comfort. A small smile tugs at her lips as I can’t hold back mine.

My happiness is broken by my friends words, “Hey Lan, I need to talk to you.” I look around awkwardly as he leaves the room, so I follow.

“Hey thanks for the-” As soon as we step outside and he shuts the door behind him, I know.

“Lando. What is going on with you and Y/n?” His voice is stern and not something I usually hear.

I swallow as he crosses his arms, wondering if Y/n knows I'm about to meet my doom.

I back up, my uggs crunching the snow under me. Max looks at me, waiting so long that I'm about to beg him to say something else. But then he says, “Oh my god, You’re in love with her.”

“I…” What do I say to that? What do I say to someone I don’t want to lie to?

He scoffs, rubbing his hand over his mouth before walking closer to me, “Lando. It’s been a week.”

I shake my head, giving in, “It’s been longer than that.”

He groans, “I mean- I knew you had a crush on her but I thought you got over that!” I wasn’t the most inconspicuous as a kid, and apparently I'm even worse now.

“Well I didn’t…” My arms fall to my sides as he stares at me like I'm the most delusional man on earth.

“She doesn’t like you!” His words feel like a stab to the heart, even if I know they’re wrong. “She barely likes you as a friend!”

“Respectfully Max… She does.” He scoffs and looks away from me as if i’m an idiot, “She didn’t want to fucking tell you because of this shit!” I raise my voice but remember that the girls are still inside.

He turns back to me, “What?”

I shrug, too annoyed to care, “We’ve been hooking up.”

“Fuck you. How could you not tell me?”

“Right, like I was just going to drop that I fucked your sister!” He goes quiet, jaw dropped and me just now realizing the magnitude of what I said.

Max screams. “Oh my- I take it back! Wash my ears out! Ew! Lando, I'll kill you! Ew!” He goes through about a hundred emotions as he paces across the back porch.

I let out a dry laugh, “Max.”

“Norris.” He mimics me, “I’m mad you didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry.” I say it and I mean it.

“And I'm mad that Y/n thought I would be pissed.”

“To be fair… everytime I would joke about it, you would throw a fit.” I shrug as he rolls his eyes.

“It’s just weird. But I'm not blind… it’s the way you look at her.” His words mean way more than I expected, “And don’t get me wrong- I hate the idea. It’s gross actually. But I know you’re being honest.”

“I really appreciate it.”

“And if you hurt her I will never speak to you again.” I laugh as he pats my shoulder, being 100% serious and straight faced.

“Okay.”

“Does she love you back?”

I shake my head, “Nah mate… She doesn’t even know.”

“Um…” Y/n’s voice makes me freeze, my smile dropping. “I do now…”

Max looks at her, then me, patting my shoulder and leaving us as if he wants no part.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” I laugh awkwardly, turning around to see her standing in the snow. She looks like an angel, dusted in white.

“I came to tell you guys we’re gonna watch home alone…” She rubs her hand on her arm, “I heard yelling.”

I nod, “Max knows. He's fine, don't worry.”

A small smile appears on her face, “Are you okay?” She steps closer, putting her hands onto my cheeks. They’re warm and I know i’m already blushing.

“Mhm. Embarrassed, but okay.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” She looks to her feet.

“I know you’re not in love with me- Just to be clear.” I clear my throat and look down at her shoes.

“I’m sorry for always being so mean. I didn’t know how you felt. Maybe if you manned up and told me earlier-”

I scoff and hit her waist playfully, “Don’t lie, Sunshine. You would have laughed in my face.”

She nods, smiling wide, “Yeah I would have.”

“You know… I was thinking. Maybe when we get back to our real lives, no snow in sight type of thing…” Her brows raises, “We could go out. Like on a real date.”

She kisses my cheek, “I’d love that.”

I kiss her on her lips, my hands over hers as the snow falls around us. I’m freezing yet I don’t feel cold… Maybe it’s because I have my sunshine right against my lips.

I get hit by snow in a flurry of laughter as Y/n and I pull away. Max and P have started throwing snowballs at us, Max yelling, “My once chance to get you back for not telling me!”

He hits his sister right in the face as she screams and wipes off her eyes. The next thing I know, we’re all yelling and hiding, trying to make as many snowballs and pelt each other with them.

Y/n hits Max square in the chest and he falls down like he’s been shot. P is set on me and with each snowball, I get a reminder of what will happen if I do anything to hurt Y/n.

We fall to the ground, out of breath from running and screaming and laughing. Y/n falls on top of me and it’s the first time I can hold her in my arms openly.

Max rolls his eyes but does the same with P, kissing her head as she rests it against his shoulder.

“This has been…” Y/n starts, trailing off as I brush the snow off of her hair.

I finish the sentence for her, smiling at my closest friends and basically family, “The best Christmas ever.”

⋆༺

you

I didn’t expect my Christmas holiday to be so life changing. I didn’t expect him.

Lando Norris was the thorn in my side and now he’s just by my side. With his arm around me or kissing my cheek or holding my hand, I don’t think I could ever get rid of him.

And I truly love him for it.

writers note : while writing this i wondered, what should be the downfall or bump in their relationship?? then i remembered free will exists and im truly just a wattpad writer at heart. so happy days for all!!!!! thanks for all the support on this little series it’s absolutely made my break! merry christmas my lovies <3