#and may your pillows be nice and cool

[caterpillarinacave]

You're so important to me fr

[whoistartaglia]

at every table, i’ll save you a seat

and other small gestures genshin men make to show that they love you

this fic’s spiritual successor (“part two”)

wanderer covers the edge of the table whenever you bend down to pick up something. he claims it’s because you’re so unbelievably clumsy that you’re likely to hit your head on the way up. all mortals are so fragile, it’s the least he can do for you to protect “what’s left inside that thick skull of yours.”

diluc flips over your pillow if you get up to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water during the night. you’ll return to a nice cool pillow and practically fall asleep once your head hits it. if you should ever question how diluc always wakes when you do, he doesn’t. he’ll turn over the pillow in his sleep, your comfort overiding his subconscious.

kaveh reminds you if you have everything you need before going out. there’s nothing more he hates more than forgetting something at home and certainly doesn’t want you to experience that. if you find you are missing something, he’ll run and grab it for you. you don’t know who’s more relieved: you or him.

childe makes you snacks when you’re working. he grew up with siblings, he knows how to help you when you’re feeling stressed or just need an energy boost. his creations can range from ridiculously childish snacks like ants on a log or culinary masterpieces. whatever he feels you need at the time.

zhongli buys you random gifts. they can range from some candies he thinks you’ll enjoy to hair pieces crafted with the finest of jewels. most of the he’ll give them to you directly, but other times he leaves them out for you to find them: next to the bed, on your desk, in your bag. they tend to increase around the holidays, your birthday, or whenever zhongli simply feels like spoiling you.

xiao always opens the door for you. you can’t remember the last time you opened a door when you were with him. he doesn’t necessarily insist on doing it either; he just does. it’s become involuntary for xiao at this point. xiao see door, xiao open door for you.

kaeya always saves you a seat, at every table, at every meal. whether it’s he arrived at the tavern earlier than you or he’s sitting on a bench and thinks you may pass him on your way home, the seat right next to him is always yours. he wouldn’t have anyone else sitting there but you.

alhaitham reads to you when you can’t sleep. you don’t even need to ask him, either. ten minutes of you twisting and turning and he’s got the light back on, book open in his hands. sometimes, it will be his own research, which can put you to sleep instantly, but othertimes its chapters from a novel you both adore. this can have the opposite effect, with him reading until the sun rises and you haven’t got a wink of sleep.

[merbear25]

Heeeeeyyyy

So I discovered this blog through that breeding kink request with Katakuri, Crocodile and Mihawk and may I request the aftermath? Like I want pregnancy and baby stuff, I want the domestic bliss. Please

Oh, how cool that you found me through that! Thanks for sending in a request. I hope you enjoy this just as much as the other one.💜💜

CW: SFW, fem!reader, pregnancy and childbirth mentioned, fluff, a touch of angst, defined relationship 

His two loves (Katakuri, Crocodile, Mihawk)

Katakuri: Waking up in the middle of the night was becoming a common occurrence. Dreams that bordered on nightmares flooded his mind, refusing to allow him any peace as your due date approached. The worries of his family interfering, harming the hair on your or your precious child’s head were more often than not at the forefront. However, the dread of his potential incompetence at being the father he needed to be was that night’s perpetrator. 

Snippets of the not so distant future played in his mind, some of which came with a tinge of anxiety. Wrapped up in his arms, sleeping the early dawn away, you were glowing even in your sleep. With the remnants of the nightmare still fresh in his mind, he held you closer worrying that at any moment you’d wake up and make his greatest fear a reality. But, you didn’t and you wouldn’t. Deep down he knew you wouldn’t. 

You stirred in his embrace. The murmurs of discomfort tugged on his heartstrings. His long fingers stroked the side of your face, to which your huffs silenced and returned to gentle hums of slumber. The morning was creeping on the horizon, and despite being wide awake, he chose to stay next to you, not wanting to miss a moment.

The sun casted and set in the sky with the cycle of the days, each one pressed with preparations for the bundle you would soon be welcoming into the world. The room had already been completed due to his eagerness to have it be perfect in every way, so now the waiting game needed to be played.

He was sure to remain nearby, especially in your third trimester. Adamant in keeping you happy, he couldn’t deny you even the slightest of requests: rubbing your feet, adjusting your pillow, fetching you whatever would satisfy that week’s craving. The favors he did for you were repaid with a thank you and a peck on the cheek. How could they not be when he was doing everything in his power to keep you happy?

When the time came to finally meet your child, the world that had been swirling with nerves and fear began shifting. There was no more room for them anymore—replaced with the jittery elation of becoming a new father, new parents.

Long hours that felt as if there would be no end, until the cries of your little baby, your precious girl, put the grueling wait to a halt. She was placed on your chest, shivering and whimpering in the new world she found herself in. Your exhaustion could never overshadow the joy you shared in that moment. You cooed at her, whispers of affection that she couldn’t yet understand, so your tone carried the pure love you felt to her.

Hair clinging to your forehead with sweat, your face flushed from the physical toll you’d been put through, and the daze you were in from the whirlwind of emotions: even though you’d disagree, he saw you as a vision of beauty. As he placed his lips against your temple, a shaky sigh left you. The smile you held began quivering the longer you looked down at your child.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Your voice cracked with emotion.

Hearing your words tremble shattered any anxiety that’d been harboring within him. He adored you, there was no denying that, and the child you just gave him only strengthened his love. The two loves of his life; neither of you would have the misfortune that plagued him growing up. He’d act as a shield if it came down to it. The burdens that came with being tied to his family, to his mother, to him: he vowed not to let them shatter this image of perfection.

He sat down beside you and wrapped you in his arms as carefully as he could, wanting to hold both of his beautiful girls at the same time.

Crocodile: Longer work hours that pushed into the late evenings were a distraction for the inevitable. Your due date was creeping up on him, enticing a nervous bug that hadn’t bitten him in a long time. Although you understood the reason for his absence, that didn’t stop the bed from feeling cold and rather lonely.

You nudged his office door open, peeking behind the wood to get a look at him working diligently behind the desk. He puffed at his cigar, allowing the thick smoke to cloud his workspace. When you inched closer, his eyes flickered to you. Your silhouette casted a shadow across the floor as you stepped in front of the fireplace. Putting out his cigar, he then waved his hand to clear the gray surrounding him.

“There aren’t many more nights you’ll be able to get a good night’s rest. You should take advantage of that.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep well the last few months because of the size of me,” you laughed in an airy, light-hearted way that never failed to fall on his ears just right. “And you know you’re in the same position as me. You’ll be up with the baby too, won’t you?” You couldn’t hide the slight tinge of sadness in your question. He was clearly having a difficult time adjusting to this change on an emotional level, even though he desperately wished that wasn’t the case.

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.” His eyes soaked in the sight of you: you were in your ninth month, hair tousled from sleep that couldn’t find you, and held a look of concern on your face. Looking back down at his paperwork, a glimmer of self-reflection reached him. He sighed before getting up from his office chair. “I suppose it’s time for me to turn in.” A gentle place of his hand on the small of your back led you to retire with him.

The howling wind made the windows rattle, making you shudder along with them. A slight pull of your body against his ceased them, though. His large frame offered you protection even over the most trivial things like the sounds at night. Nuzzling his face against the top of your head, his body soon found that fragment of peace it’d been after the past few months. The gentle hums of your breaths mingling, your soft skin against his, and your round belly carrying the most precious thing imaginable: there was a part of him that didn’t want these quiet moments to end. 

Having kept himself preoccupied with work to avoid the reality of fatherhood was now weighing on him. He cared about you, and it was true that he wanted this child. However, his role as the primary provider, the one who you and your child depended on for everything, had him going above and beyond to ensure both of your safety. Every deal, contract, employee, and everyone who came within spitting distance had to be dealt with, because if they weren’t and anything happened to either of you, he would only have himself to blame.

Time ticked forward to the delivery room when you performed a miracle, giving him a baby boy who was almost too perfect to touch. But, he wanted to hold him, both of you, and never let go. Holding him in his arms felt surreal; those soft yawns and grumbles were sounds he didn’t know he could adore so much. While you watched him cradling your bundle of everything that was right with your relationship, the hours of labor finally caught up with you.

As you drifted off to sleep, he kept his full attention on your little boy. His eyes memorized each detail, hoping that he wouldn’t lose such precious moments to time. Every vow he made would be kept, that much was certain. He would do everything in his power to make even the impossible possible.

Mihawk: As you lounged in the shade while reading your book, he caught himself glancing over at you more and more often. The swings of his swords weren’t striking the targets head-on anymore, instead merely nicking the sides in a sad attempt at training. It couldn’t be helped, though. You were stunning. The roundness of your belly and your hand resting on top of it, perhaps feeling the baby kick as you lost yourself in your book, was too much of a distraction.

He stood facing you for a good minute, his eyes never wavering from his typical stare. Those gentle breaths pairing with the rise and fall of your chest were simply too much for him to handle. His steps carried through the tall grass back to the castle.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t focus here,” he called behind him. Despite the potential harshness of him just up and leaving, you knew better than to take it to heart. As he ventured back inside, you couldn’t help the tugs at the corners of your mouth.

Throwing blows to the training equipment set up inside couldn’t even help him regain his focus. Images if you through all the stages of your pregnancy flooded his mind, taking a toll on his performance. Sloppy swings, kicks, punches: he suddenly grabbed the punching bag. Firmly, he placed both hands on it, his eyes practically burning a hole in the fabric. 

The memories of your tender touches and soft smiles were accompanied with the hopes of what was to come—a family that he kept safe and happy. His fingers dug into the thick skin of the bag as he considered the threat that would undoubtedly take you two into consideration when hunting him down. It was a future which, although inevitable, was something he’d fight against until his last breath. The final punch he threw was for all of those who had already placed a target on his family.

You were in the kitchen when he made his way back around. The kettle was heating up over the stove top and teasing a whistle.

“You shouldn’t be around an open flame and should be resting.” He guided you away from the iron stove towards the sofa. 

“It’s just tea. I’ll be alright.”

“Let me make it for you. You’re the one who’s constantly complaining about swollen feet, remember?” He ignored the slight hmph from you, knowing full well that you’d be glad you took his advice.

Handing you the hot beverage, he then brought over foot rest. Patting it, he reminded you that it would be good for circulation. “You’re always looking out for me, aren’t you,” you sighed at him.

He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. Of course he was, why wouldn’t he be? With him sitting down next to you, you could feel his eyes on you with the same intensity as when you were outside. You winced slightly from the sudden kicks.

“I think our kid is ready to get out,” you laughed softly. “Would you like to feel them kick?” 

His hands gently laid on your belly, instantly feeling the little kicks from inside. His breaths shortened as a surge of emotion took him off guard. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss where the baby was the most active. “I can’t wait to do that with you in my arms,” he whispered.

Caring gestures and loving support helped carry the both of you through the remainder of the ninth month. The cries of your new baby girl soon filled the room, painting everything outside of it as a mere backdrop. Once she was placed in his arms, he knew he could never love something as much as he loved that little girl. Nothing and no one would touch a hair on her head.

Watching him hold your child only solidified your love for him. A man who was stoic and seemingly immune to emotion was looking down at your baby girl with nothing but the soft love of a new father.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

He nodded while gently stroking her little hand, “Yes, she most definitely is.”

[diamonddaze01]

nice try, love

pairing: boo seungkwan x reader | wc: 5.6K genre: college au, fluff, humor, suggestive warnings: language a/n: did i write this at work? the world may never know. happy birthday, boo seungkwan, light of my life, king of all good things // big thanks to @gotta-winwin for beta-ing for me serena i adore u

summary: Okay FINE, maybe planning a surprise birthday party isn’t your strong suit, but at least it’s the thought that counts… right?

You're pretty sure Vernon has never planned a surprise party in his entire life.

He's sprawled out on the couch in your shared college apartment, one leg dangling off the side as if gravity has just given up on him. The faint glow of his phone illuminates his face, his thumb lazily scrolling while the soft hum of the fridge fills the otherwise quiet room. You're seated on the floor by the coffee table, absently flipping through your notes for a class you’re definitely not studying for.

“What are you doing for Seungkwan’s birthday?” Vernon asks suddenly, his voice breaking the calm monotony. He doesn’t even look up, just tosses the question out like it’s a passing thought.

You freeze, the corner of your textbook pinched between your fingers. “Uh…” Your mind blanks. “I don’t know. Haven’t really thought about it yet.”

Vernon finally turns his head, his sleepy eyes peering at you like he’s just stumbled upon the most obvious solution to life’s greatest mystery. “You should throw him a surprise party.”

“A surprise party?” you repeat, tilting your head.

He nods. “Yeah. Cake, decorations, people yelling, ‘Surprise!’ The whole thing. He’d like that, wouldn’t he?”

You mull it over, and almost immediately, the idea sparks something warm in your chest. It’s so him. Seungkwan thrives on celebration—on being surrounded by people he loves, laughing and basking in the moment. But he’s always the one making those moments happen for everyone else.

“He really would,” you murmur, more to yourself than to Vernon. Then, louder, with growing determination: “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it!”

“Cool,” Vernon says, his tone still maddeningly indifferent.

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re helping.”

He blinks, finally looking up from his phone. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

You groan, already regretting enlisting him. “Okay, first question: What kind of cake should we get?”

“Vanilla,” Vernon answers immediately, like he’s just solved world hunger.

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Vanilla. For Seungkwan.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Cake’s cake.”

“Cake is not just cake!” you snap, tossing a pillow at him. He barely flinches, letting it bounce off his chest. “He deserves something amazing, not... vanilla.”

“Alright, chocolate, then,” Vernon offers, leaning his head back against the couch.

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“It’ll be fine,” he says. “You’re stressing too much. Just... keep it simple.”

“Simple isn’t Seungkwan,” you mutter, already typing notes into your phone. “Streamers, balloons, cake, music... what else?”

Vernon hums noncommittally, but you can’t focus on his lack of enthusiasm because the sound of a key turning in the front door sends your heart into overdrive.

“Hey, I’m home!” Seungkwan calls, his cheerful voice cutting through the relative quiet of the apartment like a bell.

Your head snaps up so fast that your phone nearly catapults out of your hand. Panic flares in your chest as you lock eyes with Vernon, who has the nerve to just sit there, unbothered, like you’re not seconds away from blowing the entire operation.

“Nothing!” Vernon blurts out, his voice loud enough to startle a bird into flight—if there were birds in your apartment, which you almost wish there were, just to distract Seungkwan.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you hiss, your whisper sharp enough to cut glass.

Vernon shrugs, his expression as neutral as ever. “What? It’s fine.”

“It is not fine!” you snap, frantically shoving your phone under a pillow as footsteps draw closer.

Seungkwan rounds the corner, a reusable grocery bag in one hand, his keys jangling in the other. His brows knit together the moment he sees the two of you sitting there like deer caught in headlights.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his tone laced with suspicion.

There’s a beat of silence, long enough for your heart to climb into your throat, before Vernon, bless his completely oblivious soul, decides to take the reins.

“Uh, politics,” he says, delivering the word with all the confidence of a first-grader who just learned it in social studies.

“Politics?” Seungkwan repeats, his face immediately twisting into incredulity. His gaze flicks between you and Vernon like he’s waiting for someone to explain why that makes absolutely no sense. “You two don’t talk about politics.”

“Well,” Vernon says, stretching the word out as if buying himself time, “we do now.”

You slap a hand over your face, half-expecting Seungkwan to see right through the lie. And judging by the way his eyes narrow, he’s definitely suspicious.

“...You okay?” Seungkwan asks, his question directed at you now, his voice softer but no less probing.

“Fine!” you chirp, your voice rising an octave too high. “Totally fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

Seungkwan stares at you, unblinking, like he’s watching an amateur magician botch their first trick. His head tilts slightly, his gaze sharp and calculating. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he starts to piece something together.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you scramble for a distraction, but Seungkwan only clicks his tongue and turns toward the kitchen. “Alright…” he says slowly, his tone dripping with doubt. “I’m gonna start dinner.”

You exhale sharply as he disappears around the corner, but your relief is short-lived.

“I should probably head out,” Vernon mutters, already rising from the couch and grabbing his jacket.

“Don’t you dare leave me!” you whisper-yell, clutching at his arm.

He gives you a pitying look, gently prying your fingers off him. “Good luck with your, uh, thing,” he says vaguely, before booking it toward the door like the apartment’s on fire.

You groan, slumping against the couch as the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone with Seungkwan’s lingering suspicion and an overwhelming sense of impending doom.

By the time you’ve retreated to the bathroom to brush your teeth, hoping to quietly end the night, you can already hear Seungkwan’s footsteps padding down the hall. They’re not hurried—he knows exactly where you’re going and, more importantly, that he’s going to follow you.

You grip your toothbrush a little tighter, squeezing toothpaste onto the bristles with the precision of someone who definitely isn’t harboring a secret. The mirror reflects your determined expression, and you silently pep-talk yourself: Act casual. Act normal.

The door creaks open behind you.

“I know you’re hiding something,” he says, his voice low and sing-songy, like he’s just stumbled upon buried treasure.

“Nope,” you reply, your voice muffled by the toothbrush already working overtime in your mouth. “Noffing.”

He steps closer, and suddenly his arms are around your waist, his chin settling on your shoulder. His lips brush against the nape of your neck, soft and warm, and you almost drop your toothbrush.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, his voice dipping into that dangerously teasing tone that makes your knees feel like jelly.

You laugh, the toothpaste threatening to foam out of your mouth. “Ish a shpurrise!”

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. He’s pouting—full lips pushed out and eyebrows furrowed in a way that’s completely unfair. “I don’t like surprises,” he whines, dragging out the words like a child denied candy before dinner.

“You’ll like this one,” you manage after spitting out the toothpaste, flashing him a grin.

“I don’t trust that.” He narrows his eyes but doesn’t let go, his chin dropping back onto your shoulder as he watches you rinse your mouth. “You’ve been acting weird all night.”

“Me? Weird?” You feign offense, spinning in his hold to face him. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” His voice is skeptical, his hands tightening their hold as if he’s daring you to deny it again.

“Yes,” you say firmly, ducking under his arms and making a break for the bedroom.

“Yah!” He’s right behind you, groaning dramatically as he follows you down the hall. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?” you tease, tossing him a mischievous smile over your shoulder.

“Annoying!” He flings the word at you, though his tone is far too affectionate to take seriously.

By the time you reach the bed, he’s already poking and prodding at you like a nosy kid trying to open a Christmas present early. His fingers find your sides, digging in just enough to make you squirm, and before you can stop him, he tackles you onto the mattress.

“Seungkwan!” you yelp, laughter spilling out as his hands mercilessly tickle your sides.

“Tell me what you’re hiding!” he demands, his voice dramatically over the top. “I won’t stop until you do!”

“Never!” you manage between gasps, kicking your legs in a futile attempt to escape his grip.

“Fine,” he huffs at last, sitting back on his knees as you lie sprawled out, desperately catching your breath. His chest heaves slightly, his hair adorably mussed from the effort. “Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out myself.”

“You can try,” you retort, your grin returning as you reach up and pinch his side.

He yelps, the sound high-pitched and far more dramatic than necessary, before flopping down beside you with a groan.

“Please,” he scoffs, his voice muffled by the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. “You’re about as hard to read as a picture book.”

You roll your eyes, your fondness for him making your heart ache in the best way. “Good night, Boo Seungkwan,” you say good-naturedly, leaning over to flip off the light before pressing your body against his warmth.

A second ticks by. Then another.

“I’m gonna find out,” he whispers, his voice filled with playful determination.

“SLEEP, Seungkwan,” you reply, burying your face against his chest with an exasperated groan.

If thoughts could kill, Vernon would be buried 10 times over by now.

You glare at him from across the tiny coffee shop table, the faint scent of espresso and baked goods doing little to calm your nerves. Your phone screen lights up with a notification that makes your stomach drop.

bonon: what time are we settin up for seungkwan [Message unsent.]

Your eyes snap up to meet Vernon’s wide-eyed stare. His phone is still in his hand, held like he’s trying to will it into a time machine.

“Did you just—?” you hiss, leaning forward, heart pounding.

“I fixed it!” Vernon whispers, his tone frantic but somehow still too casual for the current crisis.

“You didn’t fix anything!” you whisper-yell, glancing nervously around the café. Though Seungkwan isn’t here yet, his arrival is imminent, and your panic is building by the second.

“I unsent it,” Vernon insists, his expression somehow both sheepish and proud.

“You think that makes it better?” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “He gets notifications, Vernon. He saw it.”

“Maybe he didn’t?” Vernon suggests weakly, though his tone betrays his lack of faith in that hope.

Your phone buzzes again.

kwannie baby: what are we setting up for

“Oh my god,” you mutter, shoving your phone face-down on the table. “You just ruined everything.”

“Did I, though?” Vernon asks, tilting his head as he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Yes!” you snap. “You absolutely did!”

Vernon leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Okay, so... Plan B?”

“Plan B?” you echo incredulously, gesturing wildly. “We don’t have a Plan B!”

“We should probably make one, then,” Vernon replies, utterly unbothered as he picks up his cup of iced coffee and takes a sip.

Before you can throttle him, the bell above the door jingles. Your head swivels toward the sound, and there he is: Seungkwan, freshly showered from his post-class gym session and looking devastatingly good in his hoodie and jeans.

Your heart skips when he spots you, his face lighting up in a way that always makes you weak in the knees. He strides over with purpose, and before you can even say hello, he leans down to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, love,” he murmurs, his voice warm and familiar, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. Then his eyes flick to Vernon, narrowing slightly. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” you blurt out. Vernon, to your absolute horror, looks at Seungkwan and says, “Oh, just planning your—”

You kick him hard under the table before he can finish. He chokes on his words, doubling over as he clutches his shin.

“Planning your... downfall,” you finish smoothly, shooting Vernon a pointed look. “It’s, uh, a surprise. For later. Just trust me.”

Seungkwan raises a skeptical eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but to your relief, he doesn’t push.

Seungkwan’s eyes narrow further, darting between the two of you with the precision of someone who’s used to sniffing out secrets. “Uh-huh.”

“Why do you look so suspicious?” you ask, forcing a laugh. “We’re literally just hanging out.”

“Because Vernon looks like he just committed a crime,” Seungkwan points out, sliding into the seat beside you. “And you sound like you’re covering for him.”

You elbow Vernon under the table, and he jolts, his iced coffee nearly tipping over. “Ow!”

“See?” you say, gesturing to Vernon. “He’s clumsy, not criminal.”

“Right,” Seungkwan drawls, though his skepticism is written all over his face.

Your phone buzzes again, and you flinch.

“You’re acting weird,” Seungkwan says, watching you closely. His gaze is soft but knowing, like he’s already halfway to figuring it all out.

Vernon coughs, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Uh, I should head out. Got... uh, stuff. Important stuff.”

“Yeah, okay,” Seungkwan says, not even sparing him a glance as Vernon escapes, leaving you to fend for yourself.

As the door jingles shut, Seungkwan turns his full attention to you, his expression a perfect mix of curiosity and mild exasperation. “So,” he says, leaning closer, “what time are you setting up for whatever you’re not telling me about?”

“It’s nothing!” you protest, though you’re certain your nervous laugh is giving you away.

He hums, unconvinced, but doesn’t push. Instead, he leans back in his chair, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Good luck,” you mutter, grabbing your coffee and taking a long sip.

Seungkwan grins, his eyes glinting with determination. “Oh, I don’t need luck. I’ve got you.”

“I have class,” you grumble, pushing your chair back with a little more force than necessary as you stand up. You reach for your bag, not wanting to be around for his inevitable victory lap when he figures it out.

You’ve made it almost all the way to the exit when Seungkwan calls out behind you, loud enough for the whole coffee shop to hear:

“Baby, you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met!”

Your cheeks burn, but you don’t look back. You step out into the crisp air with a huff, trying to ignore the little voice in your head that knows Seungkwan’s right.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. What is he doing here?

You freeze in the middle of the party supply aisle, your hand instinctively reaching for the closest balloon like it’s some kind of lifeline. It’s way too late to duck down behind the shelves now. You’re too obvious, too exposed. The very last thing you needed was for Seungkwan to walk in and find you face-to-face in the party aisle, surrounded by garish streamers and enough confetti to make a hundred surprise parties.

Seungkwan appears at the end of the aisle, holding a basket with a couple of random items in it. His eyes catch yours almost immediately, and you see the shift in his expression from casual curiosity to that all-knowing smirk.

“You’re... here?” he asks, slowly taking in the sight of you standing next to a pile of “Happy Birthday” balloons, clutching one like your life depends on it.

You swallow hard, trying to think of any excuse that could remotely make sense, but your brain is a desert. A blank, empty desert where words go to die.

“Oh, uh…” You clear your throat, your voice coming out higher than usual. “I—well, I’m just... uh…” You gesture vaguely to the colorful chaos around you. “I’m... I’m really into, uh... party supplies? You know, just... really into birthday decorations? For me. My own... birthday.”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. “Your birthday’s not until, like, three months from now.”

“I... I’m planning ahead!” you blurt out. The words are out before you can stop them, and you immediately want to crawl under a rock. “Yeah, I just... I like being prepared. You know, for... my birthday. So I came to buy—uh, extra decorations. For the future.”

He stares at you, silent for a long, drawn-out second. Then he starts walking toward you, his grin widening with every step.

“You’re buying this much stuff for your birthday... three months ahead of time?”

“Yep,” you say brightly, nodding like a lunatic. “It’s, uh, a big deal. I like to be organized. Very organized.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Seungkwan says, leaning on the shelf next to you, his expression equal parts amused and skeptical.

“No, I—uh...” You falter, feeling your face heat up. “I—look, I just like... I really like this section, okay? Do you not... do you not see how many different kinds of candles there are? And look, there’s a whole section just for cupcake toppers!”

“Cupcake toppers,” Seungkwan repeats slowly, narrowing his eyes at the pile of rainbow-colored decorations.

“Yeah, you know!” You start picking up random things off the shelf to emphasize your desperation. “Like these! These would be great for a... you know... a hypothetical cupcake situation, if I were to ever... bake cupcakes, for my birthday.”

Seungkwan looks like he’s about to say something, then stops, shaking his head. He sighs dramatically, clearly both amused and slightly exasperated. “I’m not buying it, you know.”

Your heart thuds painfully in your chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do,” he says, his tone suddenly much softer. There’s a quiet amusement in his eyes, but it’s laced with that knowing glint—the same one you’ve been trying to avoid all afternoon.

“I’m not doing anything,” you mutter, trying to look innocent.

Seungkwan’s eyes sparkle with mischief as he steps closer, his body practically crowding you against the shelves, trapping you in a bubble of warm, teasing energy. You have nowhere to go. Your pulse quickens, and you feel the heat rise in your cheeks.

“So, tell me, love,” Seungkwan murmurs, lowering his voice just enough for only you to hear. “What exactly are you hiding in this aisle of confetti and latex?”

He’s so close now that his breath ghosts over your skin, sending a shiver up your spine. His smirk is pure trouble.

You can feel your heart thudding in your chest, and you try to steady your breathing. “I’m not hiding anything,” you manage to force out, voice tight and slightly strangled.

Seungkwan tilts his head, his smirk widening. “You’re making it awfully hard to believe that.” His eyes flick to the basket you’ve been clutching as a shield. “What’s in there? More... party supplies for your upcoming birthday?”

“I—” You open your mouth, but no words come out. The lie is falling apart, and you can feel it. You’re seconds away from completely cracking.

Seungkwan watches you, amusement dancing in his gaze. “I’ll give you a chance,” he says, drawing out the words with purpose. “Tell me the truth.”

“I—” You open your mouth, but no words come out. The lie is falling apart, and you can feel it. You’re seconds away from completely cracking.

Instead of pressing further, Seungkwan just shrugs, his smile softening with a quiet, knowing satisfaction. He grabs the basket from your hands with ease, his eyes never leaving yours as he tucks it under his arm.

“Wanna go home and watch the newest episode of Queer Eye?” he asks casually, as if he didn’t just catch you red-handed.

You blink, completely thrown off by his sudden shift in demeanor. “Wait, that’s it? You’re just going to let it go?”

He shrugs again, already walking away with your basket in hand, that smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Eh. I’ll get you in a bit. But now I want to watch Jonathan Van Ness’s hair tutorials. So, we’re going home.”

You stand there for a moment, still trying to process the fact that he just let you off the hook so easily.

“Fine,” you huff, following him, but a grin sneaks onto your face. “But I swear to God, if you make me watch that episode again...”

“Oh, you’ll love it,” Seungkwan says over his shoulder, winking at you. “Let’s get this over with so we can eat snacks and judge everyone’s outfits.”

As Seungkwan checks out with your basket, you pull out your phone and quickly text Vernon:

y/n: fucked up. u need to get the balloons and the decoration

Seconds later, Vernon responds: 

bonon: slay now we’re even

You roll your eyes, quickly putting your phone away before Seungkwan can lean over and see.

The soft hum of the TV fades into the background as Seungkwan casually stretches out on the couch, pulling your feet into his lap and beginning to massage them with a practiced ease. You sigh in contentment, throwing your legs across his lap, grateful for the warmth and relaxation.

For a few moments, there’s nothing but the gentle kneading of his hands and the soothing chatter of the Queer Eye episode playing in front of you. It's easy, comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that you almost forget that you’re trying to keep a pretty huge secret from Seungkwan.

You glance over at him, watching his concentrated expression as he works his thumbs into your arches.

“Mm,” he murmurs, eyes flicking up to meet yours, “You’re really so busy these days.”

You stiffen for a second before relaxing again, pretending not to hear him. You shift slightly, trying to play it off.

“Busy? No, I’m not busy. Just… work stuff, you know.” You wave a hand dismissively, keeping your voice light and unbothered.

Seungkwan doesn't buy it. His fingers tighten around your ankle for a brief second before he continues massaging, the gesture far too casual for how sharp his eyes are.

“I don’t know,” he says, voice low and casual, almost like he's just making an observation. "You’ve been awfully ‘busy��� lately. You’re hardly ever around anymore. No late-night study sessions. No random make-outs. Kinda weird, huh?"

Your stomach drops a little. Seungkwan’s always been perceptive, and it's impossible to hide anything from him when he starts paying attention.

You clear your throat and try your best to stay nonchalant. “Nothing weird about it. Just… start of the semester, I guess. You know how it is.” You try to shrug, but it only makes it worse—like you’re overcompensating.

Seungkwan doesn’t stop massaging your feet, but his gaze never leaves your face. He tilts his head slightly, as if deep in thought, then slowly, his hands shift. Instead of being gentle, he yanks you by the ankle, pulling your entire body forward with a playful yank that has you flopping onto your back on the couch, flat against the cushions.

Before you can protest, he hovers over you, his grin only widening as he watches you squirm.

"I hope you know you're not fooling me," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, but there’s an underlying note of seriousness in it. The kind of seriousness that comes when he knows something’s up but is enjoying the game.

His lips are warm against your cheek as he presses lazy kisses all over your face, his breath soft and steady, almost like he’s savoring the little moments of closeness. Your heart stammers in your chest.

You squirm a little, trying to escape his grasp. "I thought you wanted to watch Jonathan Van Ness," you protest weakly, but the words come out a little too breathy.

He doesn’t listen. Instead, he smiles, pressing another kiss against your forehead, then your nose. The warmth of his lips lingers long enough that you almost forget where you were, and by the time he finally slots his mouth against yours, the protests die in your throat, replaced with a sigh of contentment.

"Mm," Seungkwan murmurs, pulling back for a breath before his lips find yours again. "But you're so much more interesting."

His words settle in your chest, and for a moment, you forget about the party, forget about everything else. It’s just Seungkwan, and you, and the quiet between the kisses.

Still, you know the game isn’t over. You can feel it in the way he looks at you—like he knows you're hiding something. But for now, you let him have his victory. Just a little longer.

"No, Vernon, it has to be CENTERED!"

You’re on your knees, positioning the large banner across the living room wall, your hands gripping the edges as you try to align it just right. But no matter how much you adjust, something always feels off—too far left, too far right, too high, too low. You’re hyper-aware of every detail.

Vernon stands next to you, arms crossed and watching you with an amused expression as you mutter to yourself under your breath, too caught up in the task to notice his casual shrug.

"You’re overthinking it," he says, voice unbothered. "It’s fine."

You shoot him a look that says everything. "It’s not fine! This is Seungkwan’s birthday, Vernon, it has to be perfect."

"Okay, okay," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Perfect. Whatever you say. But—" He glances over at the stack of balloons in the corner, then at the unlit candles on the table. "He’s definitely going to be surprised, alright?"

You’re still unconvinced. You pause, stepping back to assess the banner once more. Something about it feels off. Your anxiety crawls up your spine, and you chew at your lower lip, looking between the decorations and the front door.

"Sure," you say, but the doubt lingers in your voice. "But I still feel like he's going to know."

Vernon raises an eyebrow. "You think he knows? You’ve been dodging him all week. No way."

You huff, glancing toward the window where Seungkwan’s car will likely pull up soon. "You don’t know him like I do. He’s perceptive, and I think he’s catching on. He’s been way too quiet lately. And he's definitely noticed how much more ‘busy’ I’ve been."

Vernon smirks. "Ah. So that’s what this is about. You’re worried he’s figured it out and you don’t want to ruin the surprise."

"Exactly." You pause and shoot a quick glance at the door, just to make sure you're not imagining things. "What if he walks in and just... knows?"

Before Vernon can respond, a knock echoes from the door. You freeze for a second, panic seizing your chest. Vernon, unbothered, starts to whistle, completely unaware of your spiraling thoughts.

"He's here," you whisper, looking at the clock nervously. "He's early!"

"No problem," Vernon says, effortlessly grabbing a handful of balloons and making his way to the door. "We’ve got it covered."

You follow him, heart racing as you hold your breath, hoping the setup looks flawless before Seungkwan walks in. You quickly scramble to tie off the last balloon as Vernon opens the door, allowing Seungkwan to step inside.

Seungkwan looks completely caught off guard when he enters, his eyes immediately widening at the sight of the full party setup. Balloons are hanging from the ceiling, candles flicker, and a crowd of people stand in the kitchen.

Your heart skips a beat, but he doesn't say anything for a moment. Instead, Seungkwan just blinks at the scene, his jaw slightly dropped. He slowly raises his hand to his chest in mock surprise.

"Wow," he gasps dramatically. "What... is all this?"

You roll your eyes, but he presses on, voice rising in exaggerated shock. "No way... This is for me?!" His face twists into an over-the-top expression of surprise. "I’m so touched!"

You laugh, feeling a little bit of relief wash over you. But as you glance at Vernon, he’s smiling smugly, clearly pleased that Seungkwan’s playing along.

"No, seriously," Seungkwan continues, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I had no idea. You really got me. I’m blown away."

You can’t help it. You burst into laughter, your hand covering your mouth as you try to suppress it. "Okay, stop," you say through giggles. "You’re so obvious."

But Seungkwan just grins, his expression too satisfied to hide. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was completely surprised." He winks at you before stepping further into the living room, his dramatic act now dissolving into a delighted smile.

"You’re impossible," you mutter, still laughing.

Vernon snickers from the corner. "Told you. He’s definitely surprised."

You shake your head, but your heart swells with fondness. Despite all your worries, it feels good to see Seungkwan so happy, so genuinely caught up in the moment. You finally give in, nodding at Vernon.

"Yeah, alright. I’ll give you that."

After the toast, when the last clink of glasses fades and the room is filled with chatter and laughter, Seungkwan leans toward you, his usual mischievous grin never quite leaving his face. He beckons you with a subtle tilt of his head, eyes glinting as he steps toward you, his fingers brushing against yours as he pulls you away from the crowd.

He doesn’t say a word as he guides you toward the hallway and into your shared bedroom. The door clicks softly behind you, and as soon as you’re inside, he closes the distance between you with a playful, teasing grin.

"So," he begins, his voice low but laced with humor, "how long are we going to pretend I didn't know?"

You blink at him, surprised. Your stomach drops slightly, the weight of the confession catching you off guard. You open your mouth, but the words get tangled in your throat. Before you can come up with an excuse, Seungkwan raises a hand, stopping you.

"I know," he says, the words laced with affection but also a certain smugness. "I knew pretty early on."

Your eyes widen. You can’t hide the guilt in your expression, but Seungkwan just chuckles, his voice rich with amusement.

"How did you figure it out?" you ask, feigning innocence as you lean back against the doorframe, trying to appear nonchalant.

Seungkwan crosses his arms, leaning back as he starts recounting the clues. "Well, let’s start with the unsent text, hmm?" He raises an eyebrow. "I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Vernon isn’t exactly great at keeping his phone locked down. It was right there on his screen, loud and clear—Seungkwan's birthday surprise."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "He really didn’t."

"Oh, he did," Seungkwan says, leaning in closer now, his grin widening as he watches you squirm. "And then there was that whole... party aisle incident? Really? You thought I wouldn’t figure it out when I walked in and saw you clutching a balloon like it was the holy grail?"

You wince, looking away. "Okay, so maybe I wasn't subtle. But you didn't have to call me out like that."

Seungkwan laughs softly, a fondness in his gaze that takes you by surprise. "Look, I wasn’t going to say anything. You and Vernon were having way too much fun with it, and honestly? It was sweet. It made me feel special." He steps closer to you, his expression softening. "You two planning this disaster was honestly the best part of my birthday."

You blink up at him, feeling warmth spread through your chest. "You’re not mad?"

He shakes his head, reaching out to take your hand, gently tugging you closer. "Mad? Nah. I mean, I’ve got to admit, it was a little obvious. But the fact that you both went through all this effort? It made me feel like I was worth it." His voice softens, sincerity threading through every word. "Thank you. For doing all of this for me."

The words settle between you, heavier than you expect, and you can’t help but smile. Seungkwan’s teasing grin has melted into something more genuine, and as you step forward, he pulls you into a hug. His arms wrap around you tightly, and for a brief moment, you just stand there, feeling his warmth surround you.

But then, true to form, Seungkwan tilts his head back and gives you a playful push. "Alright, enough with the mushy stuff. I’m still waiting for my gift." His grin is back in full force, but this time, there’s something more than mischief in his eyes.

You laugh, trying to backpedal, but before you can say anything else, Seungkwan’s hands are at the back of your neck, pulling you into a slow, languid kiss. His lips press against yours with a warmth that contrasts with the teasing nature of his words. The kiss is deep and slow, each movement a silent reminder of how much he truly cares. You respond instinctively, leaning into him as his hands slide down to rest on your waist.

When the kiss finally breaks, Seungkwan pulls away just enough to look at you, his forehead resting gently against yours. "Seriously," he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate, "thank you for making today so special. I really appreciate it."

You smile, brushing your thumb over his cheek. "Of course. You deserve it."

Seungkwan presses another kiss to your forehead, his grin never fading. "Okay, okay. But really, are we cutting the cake soon or what? I swear, if I don’t get cake soon, I might just die from suspense."

[diagonal-queen]

Ooo may I ask for Leviathan, Satan, Mammon, Asmodeus, and Solomon with a clumsy!reader that just smiles and apologizes after accidentally hurting themselves?

Like reader could almost split their head in two on their way back home and they would just smile and brush it off as if a part of their head isn't bleeding profusely-

If you're not comfy with this, I respect that! Have a nice week!:3

-🎧

With a clumsy S/O

♡ characters: Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Solomon x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: you're just silly and clumsy and they're worried about you </3

♡ cw: Swearing, bruises, cuts, scrapes, falling over on the fuckign floor, blood

note: wow my first obey me req!! how silly and fun. you guys don't know the joy i felt when i went to my follower page and saw a bunch of OM pfps, you guys are so cool! should i download nightbringer or nah (i was gonna do it when it first came out but i saw the 3d models and got scared) apologies for errors and i hope you enjoy x

Mammon:

You're going to give him a fucking aneurysm

Mammon loves you so much, like this man is WHIPPED, so if you ever get hurt all of his protective instincts kick in

He's overprotective even if you don't get hurt. If it looks like you're in any kind of danger, he's right by your side anyway worrying about you like a devoted puppy

And then when you inevitably do get hurt, you *apologise* for it? Even though you're literally dying (he thinks)???? He's not having it!!

While he'll definitely chide you while he helps you recover, he's really just trying to cover up the fact that he's unbelievably worried about you. Pride isn't his sin but damn if he doesn't have way too much of it

It doesn't matter how many times this happens, he never gets used to it. And every single time he demands you don't apologise, but also demands that you be more careful not to do it again, lol

There is also a small part of him that does not want you to get hurt because he's the one who's been tasked with supervising you, and he knows Lucifer will ground his ass if he finds out you've sustained moderate injury (or worse. confiscate goldie)

He sometimes wonders how you can possibly be so nonchalant about it, because you're a fragile little human!! how aren't you more worried??!?!?!

Honestly this mf is such a hypocrite because i KNOW his ass is clumsy as shit too, but it's not okay when you do it because he loves you, and he doesn't like seeing his loved ones get hurt. So you better not keep letting yourself get hurt, got it??

Leviathan:

Do you want me to be honest? Do you really want me to be honest??

After a while, he would just start filming you whenever you fall and making compilations of you eating absolute shit

Like, clearly it doesn't bother you. After the first few times where he gets all frantic and jittery, he learns not to take it too seriously

(Unless you genuinely injure yourself of course, which he'll panic about regardless of how you react)

Every time he sees anyone get hurt, in any way, ever, he'll point and be like 'haha babe that's you'

He doesn't want you to sit in his gaming chair because he knows you'll roll around in it and then inevitably fall down, damaging both you and the chair in the process

Levi would never admit this, but the more you hang out in his room, the more blankets and pillows he leaves on the ground where you guys sit to watch anime/game together. Claims it's to make you more comfortable but mostly because he doesn't want you to get hurt while he's watching you

He's so used to you wandering into his room, bloody palms/head/knees, that he begins to keep a first aid kit in there for you (he would also totally buy you anime-themed bandaids let's be honest)

His biggest struggle with all of this at the end of the day is when you enter his room while he's livestreaming and the chat starts spamming about the fucked up bloody ghostly spirit in the background and he has to be like 'no that is the loml actually'

Satan:

Satan is so normal ❤️ he's so Studio Ghibli man coded and I'll die on this hill

If you come home bleeding, he'll do all the classic romantic shit for you. I'm talking the gently cleaning your wounds, bandaging you up, making you warm tea, reading to you while you rest in his bed AUGH 😩

He'll ask you to please try to be careful and stay safe from now on, because he just couldn't ever get anything done constantly worrying about you the way he does.

You always promise to try and be more careful, but that promise is, somehow, never kept (he lets it slide because he's a sweetie)

When you two are cuddling in bed together he'll gently caress and trace his fingers over your assorted bruises and healing scrapes

Satan doesn't let you apologise for hurting yourself, either. He reassures you that it's okay, but he really does just want you to keep safe and well

He is willing to carry you sometimes to avoid you slipping. He'll also make sure you stay away from sharp objects and he'll idiot-proof his bedroom so you can spend time in there. This man will take no chances because he wants to hang out with you that much

Satan catches you if you trip because he's romantic like that. Tbh he's been so conditioned into expecting it that he's always on alert whenever he leaves the house with you

Congratulations, you pavlov'd the devil into being gentle and caring. Do with this new power what you will, but for the love of god please be more careful

Asmodeus:

You are actively driving up his concealer consumption because he keeps having to USE it all on you because you won't stop BRUISING

Dabbing some of it over a hickey he gave you is one thing. This is unreasonable, he says, it's ridiculous!

Asmo is so worried you'll get some kind of infection, so he's so careful when he does your makeup. He has alcohol wipes and warm cloths to clean your cuts and bruises and everything

He begins carrying bandaids with him just in case. He's really gentle when he puts them on, it's basically an intimate ritual between the two of you at this point

Tbh though he does love to pamper you, so he doesn't mind spending his time undressing you, washing you, cleaning you up and then cuddling you for the whole night (among other things- this is Asmo we're talking about)

You genuinely have nothing to worry about either, because you could just be a walking bruise and Asmo would still think you're the cutest human in the three realms. He'll still participate in an unacceptable amount of PDA regardless of how hurt you are and that's the Asmodeus guarantee

He's really way more worried about you than you are. He *insists* that you're more careful, because if you were to get seriously injured or die, then who oh who would go clothes shopping with him then?? Who would he have to do makeup on? Whose nails would he have to paint? The absolute horror

(What a drama queen lmao)

My mans is not beating the down bad allegations anytime soon, but he doesn't care because his precious little lamb is hurt!! And he can't have that, not at all.

Solomon:

Lowkey unbothered

You think this dude has lived 200+ years to not know healing spells? Nah. You wander up to him and he's just like 'tut tut. why are you like this' and fixes you right up

It's not that he's fine with seeing you hurt−he's not−but he takes little time to get used to it, and being as powerful as he is he knows he can just heal you

He kind of secretly enjoys being your healer. He likes the way you rely on him for that kind of thing, because let's be real he's got a dom thing. Don't lie to yourselves folks.

Whenever he sees a new mark on your body he'll sigh and ask what happened, more out of mild amusement than exasperation. If you're too embarrassed to answer he'll chuckle but not press further

Solomon is a teaser. He'll tease you about this, and there's nothing you can do about it. What are you gonna do? Tell Lucifer? They don't have a PACT (lmfao suck it)

(This is gonna be very embarrassing for me if it turns out they did make a pact in nightbringer and i don't know because i just never fuckin played it)

Anyway, you notice that as time goes on, whenever Solomon holds your hand, his grip gets just that little bit tighter. Like Satan, he is always prepared

Maybe he really is secretly worried about you. Who knows? Solomon is a wild card, but if there's one thing to be sure of, it's that he'll always be there to help heal you no questions asked.

taglist~ ♡

DM me if you'd like to join my Obey Me! taglist!

[ladycaramelswirl]

A Dream Like You

Female reader x Aaron Hotchner

A/N: I did something… hormonal 💀 may delete later

summary: you and Aaron share a bed on a case. oh, also you’re both in love with each other and totally oblivious. And sexually frustrated 🫠

cw: Idk how ratings work but I’m pretty sure this is explicit. (sm*t?) No mention of Y/N! Also quite a bit of swearing, which is unusual for me.

A/N (main): this is my first time writing anything remotely sexual. It’s short! I was writing something completely different but it ended up as… idk what this is. Also I’m sorry for any typos. Enjoy 💀

————————————

You wake up to the most perfect warmth enveloping you. And the delightful smell of soap and a citrus scented laundry detergent. You sleepily bury your nose into the smell. Except the source of the smell is Aaron, who immediately startles awake at your movement, only to go completely still when he realises you’re the reason for the wonderful warmth pressed against him. He tries to move away but you pull him closer, pushing your breasts against his chest and your leg between his thighs, dangerously close to his now extremely hard cock.

You move against him in your sleep, rocking against his sensitive underside, causing him to moan. This was bad. So bad. He really needed you to wake up. 

“Hey”, he whispers.

“Mmm”, you mumble into your bedmates neck. “It’s so nice here. Don’t want to get up”. 

God you were killing him. He tries to move away, not wanting to disturb your much needed sleep, but you just hold onto him tighter. Were arms supposed to feel this good?

“Please wake up”, he pleads. You needed sleep, but if you kept rubbing against him, he was going come, and then things would be very very uncomfortable. He tries to shake you awake but you rock your hips against him again. 

“Fuck”, he hisses, pleasure rushing through him. Your sleepy mind finds immense satisfaction at his voice and starts moving against him harder. 

“Oh God”, he chokes. 

“You feel so good baby”, you whisper in his ear. You throb with desire. “I need you”, you whine, the friction from your movement sending you into a state of bliss. God you’ve never had a sex dream this good.

Aaron feels his heart race with your movement but it’s your words that cause him to get harder. How was he supposed to forget how you called him baby? He tries to shake you off. 

“You need to wake up. I-“, his words are cut off by an uncontrollable gasp of pleasure that escapes him. 

You feel desperate for the feeling of him inside you. “Fuck me. Please fuck me”, you beg. It takes all of Aaron’s willpower to push you off of him and he jams a pillow between you. He immediately gets on his feet, needing to get away from you. You let out a disappointed whimper and that’s all he can take before he rushes into the bathroom. He turns the water on in the shower before stepping under it, trying to get the cold water to cool him off. But nothing is helping. He wraps his fingers around his hard shaft, slowly moving it up and down. He grits his teeth together, the memory of your words making it almost impossible to not vocalise his pleasure, but you were still asleep and if you woke up, he’d have to explain why he was so flushed. So he tries his best to be quiet. Your voice plays in his head - “you feel so good baby”. He strokes himself faster. “I need you”. His knees buckle in pleasure. “Fuck me. Please”. His mind goes blank as he experiences an euphoric climax and his legs shake as his gratification covers the bathroom tile. Fuck. He’s never got himself off that fast. Shit. He just fucked himself thinking about you. He immediately feels a surge of guilt. He is your boss. He is not supposed to feel this way about you. And you had thought you were sleeping. He has no excuse for his behaviour. He towels himself off and checks his watch for the time. 4am. It’s too early to get up but he cannot get back into bed with you there so he gets dressed. He leaves a note explaining that he’s gone to the precinct to work on the case and that you should join later with everyone else, then quietly slips out of the room.

The sound of the door closing stirs you from your sleep. You reach for your nightstand to check your watch, but find nothing. The panic of being in a strange room makes you sit up and you remember that you’re in a hotel room on a case. You reach to the right for your watch again only to realise you’re not on the side of the bed you slept on. And that you’re alone but you hadn’t been when going to bed. You notice the note on his nightstand. Of course he was already up at 4am. Unless you had kicked him out of bed by rolling onto his side? Oh God, you hope not. And why did you feel so… sensitive? You notice the pillow between your thighs. You recall your dream, and his sounds of pleasure, groaning in frustration and burying your face in the pillow. Only you’re overwhelmed by the smell of Hotch. It’s enough to have you throbbing again. You’d just had a sex dream of your boss. While in bed within him. Why couldn’t you be attracted to anyone else? It was so embarrassing. And completely inappropriate. You had to pull yourself together. But you felt a desperate ache between your thighs. And the smell of him was overwhelmingly good. Before you can really think about what’s happening you bring one hand to your breast, palming yourself through your shirt and slip your other hand into your sleep shorts, rubbing your sensitive nub. Were dreams supposed to be that vivid? The memory of his body against yours has you imagining your fingers are his. You slip one finger inside, then two. His would be so much thicker, so filling. You throb against your digits at the thought. You can almost hear his moans. You fuck yourself harder. God it feels so good. 

“Yes Aaron”, you pant, and you’re not sure if you’re thankful that he’s not here. You pinch your nipples as you swipe at your sensitive bundle of nerves and suddenly remember the sound of him whimpering. It’s enough to make you see white. Your orgasm rips through you and you’re soaked in sweat by the time you come down from your high. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating when you’ve ever had an orgasm that good. Never.

You were so fucked.

———

A/N P.S. : I hope you liked it! should I post the writing that inspired this? It’s pretty much the opposite of this - far away from smut land and very much the capital of pining city. It’s much more my usual style. Anyway let me know what you think :)

Masterlist

[loveesiren]

CONGRATS ON 1500 FOLLOWERS! You deserve every single one of them and more 💕 absolutely love your writing 🔥

May I request a T.O.P blurb with "can't sleep?" and "we can't keep doing this?" 👀

Thank you so much babes!! <333

Vali's 1500 Celebration

warnings: smut, mdni 18+

wc: 1.3k+ (this ended up being longer than I planned lmfaooo I tried to make it short I really did)

You laid wide awake in the cramped tent, glaring at the ceiling like it had personally offended you. Beside you, Jiyong snored loud enough to scare off any wildlife within a five-mile radius. You turned your head, watching him sleep with growing irritation. His limbs were splayed out across the ground, mouth open, a thin trail of drool creeping down his cheek onto the shared pillow. Charming.

You let out a quiet scoff. This entire trip had been his idea. “We never get sibling time anymore,” he said. “It’ll be fun,” he promised. And yet here you were—freezing your ass off, stuck in a tent with your overprotective older brother who insisted on bunking together because “I need to protect my baby sister.” You were only a year and a half younger than him. You could survive a weekend in the woods without supervision, thank you very much.

Still… you had to admit, it wasn’t all terrible. Seunghyun was here. And that made everything a little more bearable.

You waited until Jiyong let out a particularly loud snore before slowly inching your way toward the entrance. Every crinkle of the sleeping bag made you wince, but he didn’t stir. Just flopped onto his back, oblivious as ever. He’d always been a heavy sleeper.

Rolling your eyes, you carefully unzipped the tent and slipped outside into the cool embrace of the night.

The air was crisp and you instinctively hugged your hoodie tighter around your body. Most of the camp had gone quiet—just the occasional crackle from a dying fire and the distant hum of crickets. A few stragglers were still awake, laughing softly around a dim lantern, but no one paid you any mind as you stepped into the shadows of the trees.

That’s when you saw it—a tiny orange ember glowing in the distance by the creek. A cigarette. Seunghyun.

You made your way toward it, careful to avoid snapping twigs beneath your feet. As you drew closer, you found him perched on a smooth boulder, cigarette nestled between his fingers, his other hand resting on his knee. He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around him like mist.

“Hi, Oppa,” you whispered.

Seunghyun flinched slightly, surprised, but when he turned and saw it was you, his features softened. The corners of his lips pulled into a quiet smile, and the moonlight painted his face in silver.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked as you lowered yourself beside him, your shoulder brushing his.

He shook his head, flicking ash off the edge of the rock. “Too quiet,” he muttered. 

“Sounds nice. I can’t sleep with Jiyong’s snoring.” You scoffed, taking the cigarette from him and taking a long drag.

“Yeah, I don’t miss living with him.” Seunghyun chuckled.

You smiled to yourself, eyes drifting to the water as it shimmered under the moon. The silence that settled between you was comfortable, like this moment had been waiting for you all day. Just you, him, and the quiet pull of something unspoken.

You stubbed the cigarette out on the edge of the rock, the embers dying with a soft hiss. Without a word, you shifted, sliding into Seunghyun’s lap, your knees framing his thighs. Your arms looped around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. You leaned in, capturing his mouth in a deep, desperate kiss.

He groaned low against your lips, his hands instantly roaming—rough palms finding the swell of your ass beneath your shorts. He squeezed, pulling you closer like he couldn’t get enough. But just when you started to lose yourself in the kiss, he broke it—his breath brushing against your cheek.

“We can’t keep doing this…” he murmured, voice barely above the rustling of the trees.

“Why not?” you whispered, lips ghosting over his jaw. Your hand slid between you, fingers brushing against the hard length straining beneath his pajama pants. “You like it. I like it. So what’s the problem?”

He whimpered under his breath as you stroked him through the fabric, his head tipping back against the cool night air. “Because you’re my best friend’s little sister…” he said, as if trying to convince himself more than you.

You kissed a slow trail up his throat, your breath warm against his skin. “That just makes it even hotter,” you teased, voice soft and wicked.

He growled at your words, the last of his restraint snapping. His hands gripped your hips firmly, lifting you just enough to tug your shorts and panties aside. You helped him, impatiently fumbling to free him from his pants. The second he lined himself up at your entrance, you sank down onto him with a slow, breathy moan.

Seunghyun cursed under his breath, one hand flying up to cover your mouth. “Quiet, baby. Gotta be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” he whispered harshly, eyes dark and pleading. “Be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You nodded quickly, your wide eyes locking with his, pupils blown. Slowly, he lowered his hand, placing it back on your hip to help guide your movements.

You bit your lip hard as he thrust his hips up, the thick drag of him hitting deep—right where you needed him most. The pressure was overwhelming, delicious. You held on tighter, your breath catching in your throat.

“Fuck…” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “You feel unreal… the way you squeeze me…”

Your moans spilled out in soft, breathy whimpers with each thrust. Seunghyun reached up, slipping two fingers into your mouth, and you took them without hesitation, nearly gagging when he pressed them deep.

“Can never be quiet, can you?” he panted, his pace growing faster, sloppier, as he bounced you up and down on his cock. “So fucking tight… so wet… shit, I’m not gonna last…”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body already trembling. That familiar heat coiled in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter until you were seconds from falling apart.

“You’re close, huh?” he breathed, his voice shaking. “I can feel it, jagi… fuck, cum for me.”

His words snapped something inside you. You clenched around him hard, stars bursting behind your eyes as your orgasm washed over you in waves. You felt him stiffen, his grip bruising as he followed right behind you with a broken moan into your neck.

You collapsed against him, your chest heaving, your skin sticky with sweat despite the cold air. His arms stayed around you, cock still buried deep inside, as you both tried to catch your breath.

“You make me feel so fucking good,” you whispered, nuzzling your nose against his neck.

A soft smile ghosted his lips, but it quickly vanished when a voice cut through the trees—

“Y/n?!”

Your blood ran cold. “Shit! My brother!”

You scrambled off his lap in a flurry of tangled limbs and whispered curses. Seunghyun helped you, his hands fumbling to pull up your panties and shorts as he tucked himself back into his pants.

He grabbed his cigarettes, quickly lighting two, and handed you one just as Jiyong’s voice rang out again, this time closer.

“I’m here!” you called back, praying your voice didn’t shake.

Jiyong burst through the brush a moment later, hair sticking up in wild directions, eyes squinting from the sudden light of the moon. “What are you doing out here?” he asked suspiciously.

You blew out a slow drag from your cigarette, shrugging. “Can’t sleep when you sound like a fucking jet engine.”

Jiyong grumbled, settling beside you on the rock with a huff. “Should’ve just woken me up. I wouldn’t’ve minded company.”

Seunghyun forced a tight-lipped smile, offering the pack and a lighter. Jiyong took one without a second thought.

The three of you sat there in a tense silence, the smoke from your cigarettes curling up into the stars. You could still feel Seunghyun’s touch lingering on your skin. Your thighs ached from how quickly it had ended.

Jiyong, luckily, was as clueless as ever—especially when he was half-asleep. But Seunghyun’s hand brushing yours beneath the rock was enough to remind you just how close you’d come to being caught.

And maybe… how badly you wanted to get caught next time.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

[faerybella219]

Just as I think Gale would be warm, I think Astarion would be chill to the touch.

Now this may seem obvious seeing as he’s a vampire, but I don’t mean icy cold. No, not the cold that if you touch it for too long it starts to burn. Not even unpleasantly cold. But chilled. Like the cool side of your pillow you’re always trying to flip to, the cool your feet keep searching your bed sheets for, and the cool night air that hits your face when you’re drunk.

You’re traveling in the hottest season, hiking miles with heavy gear no less. When it’s time to set up camp everyone looks like a sweaty, frizzled mess. Besides Astarion, of course. Backpacks thump to the ground from weary muscles and messy hair. Meanwhile, Astarion is halfway through setting up his tent, checking his nails in a most satisfied manner. Everyone is too tired to care about his silent flex of comfortability, so he becomes vocal.

Astarion watches you struggle with a collected grin, “Looking a bit hot, need someone to cool you off?”

You glare in his direction, both annoyed and attempting to hide the butterflies that appear in your stomach whenever he flirts with you. He holds half-lidded eye contact with you as he takes slow gulps of water from a corked jug. Astarion closes his eyes from the refreshment and clear droplets of water dribble from the corner of his mouth and the misaligned jug, tracing the length of his pale throat.

You can’t help but stare, your mouth somehow dry as a desert and salivating at the time time. You flip your head around pretend not to notice, although he definitely saw you. As you begin to unbuckle your bedroll Astarion holds the jug of water in front of you. As you look up at him to take it he quips, “Here, you’re clearly thirsty.”

He gives you a cheeky sideways glance, and your cheeks flush hot. Somehow hotter than before.

—

You can’t sleep. It’s just too damn hot. It doesn’t even matter you’re wearing your skimpiest camp clothes, they stick right to you. You’re tossing and turning trying to find a cool side to your bedroll. You tried touching the ground, but even the grass was warm. The only thing chill was the night air, but you needed the security of blankets. There was no right answer. You prop yourself on your elbows with a huff.

Suddenly you hear a sultry voice from a few feet behind you, “Can’t sleep?”

You turn around, startled, “How did you know?”

“Darling, I can hear you huffing and puffing and fidgeting from halfway across camp. I can barely sleep, myself, with all the racket.”

You plop back down and close your eyes with a defeated, “hmph.”

Suddenly you feel the back of a cool, cool hand on your damp forehead.

Relief. For the first time tonight you feel relief from the heat.

Astarion keeps his hand there for a few seconds more upon hearing your sigh of contentment. He pulls his hand away, “Oh dear, aren’t you just burning up?”

You glare at him. Did he disturb you just to rub it in? “Well it must be nice to be cold all the time.”

His wide eyes flicker solemnly for a moment.

“It isn’t,” he replies softly.

His eyes return to their cat-like slyness in an instant. “However, it’s better than being all sweaty and sticky like the rest of you.”

A beat of silence settles between you. The air is slightly thinner. Astarion’s eyes fall into the distance for a moment, before settling on your face again. You’re starting to wonder why he’s here, and you’re missing his cold hand on your forehead. For a moment, pride (or shyness) overcomes you and you don’t say anything. But the thought of the rest of the night spent tossing and turning makes you speak up.

“Would you… put your hand on my forehead again?”

Astarion’s lips curve upwards, and he breaks into a laugh. He isn’t used to innocent requests.

“How sweet… Sure, I’ll rest my hand on your head. No funny business.”

A smile rests on your face as he lays down next to you. Closing your eyes, you feel his cool fingertips raking through your salty hair. He rests the back of his chilled hand against your burning hot forehead, then your cheek. You feel your heart swell and your breathing slowing. He presses the back of his hand to the side and back of your neck. His breath irregularly puffs on the crown of your head. Between your closeness and your dwindling consciousness, it occurs to you that vampires don’t need to breathe.

Huh.

Sleep is dragging you down one breath at a time. Just as you slip into the unconscious you feel a light, cold pressure around your hand. Finally, you can rest.

[shrike-fic]

inexperienced reader x 'i secretly play the flute thinking about you (respectfully)' hozier?

Sorry this took so long yall, I’m constantly busy with…….. interesting stuff. Hope you enjoy :)

⭐️ Hozier zerkin it ⭐️

Warnings: smut pure smut

—————————————————

Andrew got home late into the night after one of your bar excursions. His head was swirling with cheap beer and whiskey laced memories of just a few hours ago, going over what happened as to maybe have some sort of recollection of any of it in the morning. Thoughts of you dancing together, taking shots together, laughing together plagued him as he swayed through the house.

Briefly grinning to himself at this secret admiration for you, he’s taking his coat off and practically ripping his shoes off after he gets into his room. As much as he’d love to pass out on his worn in bed right then and there, he figures it’d be unhygienic to sleep in his bed with clothes that he’d been in all day. In his hazy mind, he stands up with a groan, grabs his shower towel and starts walking towards the house’s bathroom.

As Andrew prepares his shower and strips down, he can’t help but think of some things that you.. drunkenly confessed to him. You confided to him about some things that you may or may not (definitely have not) done. He was shocked of course, how could a girl like you not have men practically falling at your feet? Lighthearted teasing ensued between the two of you concerning who had done what and where and when, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around what you said.

He steps in, his feet hitting the cool tile, and his hand having a matching feeling pressed to his palm as he uses the wall to steady himself. Turning on the water, he melts into the much needed steady warm stream that was pouring over him.

God, how nice it would be if you were in there with him.

He knits his brows at the thought of that, face turning pink with nobody but the droplets on his skin and the shower head to witness it. He feels slightly guilty from this, with you being his closest friend thinking of you in this way seemed wrong. But some part of him knew that deep down thats what he really wanted. Desperately wanted. His head wasn’t getting any clearer the longer he spent in the shower, which made him feel dirty no matter how well he cleaned the whole of himself.

The longer he stayed in that shower, the longer that heat grew between his legs. He knew he was half-hard by now, his dick practically begging to be touched. He harshly sighed out, almost a scoff, and quickly turned the water to cold to maybe sober him up and get rid of some of these dirty thoughts. What was he, a teenager?

With his hair being scruffed up in a towel, and some boxers haphazardly thrown on, he made his way back into his room where he so desperately wanted to collapse in. He fell back into his bed, letting his legs kick up a bit at that motion. After laying there with his legs hanging off the bed, he decides to swing them up and under the covers where the rest of him follows. He rubs his face with both of his hands, knowing deep down how utterly screwed he is. You had just confessed a deeply personal secret to him, and he’s being plagued with all the things that he’d love to do to you.

Heaven knows the splash of cold water on himself didn’t work. It hardly sobered him up, but it did nothing to keep those deliciously hedonistic thoughts out of his head. So there he was, knees slightly bent with his stomach clenched and his hand working his stiff and leaking cock up and down. His head was tossed to the side of his pillow, thrown back with his knitted brows framing his strained face, and his clean pair of boxers somewhere in his messed up sheets.

His lips were parted, with wanton groans and quickened breath spilling out of it. Oh how he wished it was your hand instead of his. His breath hitched and let out a desperate noise at the thought of this, quickening his pace, moving his other hand to comb through his hair.

He wondered how your hand would feel. Softer and smaller than his, not as confident in your actions, yet still wanting to help please him the best you could. His thoughts raced from your hands, to your lips, to what you would taste like. How he’d kill to find all of this out; to experience all of you. His mouth falls open deeper, with his desperate noises becoming louder and needier the longer he stroked his leaking cock.

Pre cum was dribbled on his pale lower stomach, his hips slightly bucking into his thoroughly moving hand. Thumb rubbing up against the hot red tip of his cock provided the perfect amount of friction to get him so close to falling off that edge. His back arching and him twitching in his own hands, he could see stars in behind eyes and feel the knot in his stomach snap as he pumped himself those last few times.

One last cry, and Andrew was sloppily bucking his hips into his hand releasing his cum onto his stomach and fingers. He pumped himself through it, nearing to the point of overstimulation— he just couldn’t get enough of you. Finally he released his spent dick from his hand, and laid there with a mess all over himself. After catching his breath for a minute, he reached over to his nightstand and cleaned himself off with a tissue. Cursing himself lightly as to why he would bother to take a shower just to do this to himself directly afterward.

He wasn’t totally free of guilt after finishing to the thought of you, he just didn’t really know how to deal with it. The best solution he could come up with? Sleep it off. Which would be great, but who the hell is calling him at such a late time? He groggily reaches over to the nightstand to pick up his phone ready to grumble at whoever was calling him at an hour like this, only to realize it was your name at the top of his screen.

He answers the phone, feeling a bit more guilty than before.

“Hey.. ehm… are you alright? Why are you calling this late?”

“You were supposed to call me when you got home, I was worried you hadn’t made it or something” You say with a slight scolding voice.

“Ah I’m very sorry, I was.. in the shower.”

He cringes at himself and covers his eyes with his hand.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Squeaky Clean 9

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You start work as a maid but you’re not prepared for the mess your client brings with him. (maid AU – plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

He's on you again. Just like before, you can't stop him. Steve is behind you, an arm hooked beneath you, his other hand nestled against your pelvis as he plucks your clit.

You heave and cling to the pillow beneath your head. He pumps into you as he keeps your leg propped over his. He impales you with sharp snaps only to drag himself out slowly. Your walls are tender and twitching with each torturous thrust.

You swallow your orgasm. Shame sears over you as you squeeze him without meaning to. He grunts and spasms as he cums. Again. You just want it to end.

He's made a mess of more than your bed and body. He's ruined your life. You were just trying to get by. To make an honest living. Now... you don't know what's going to happen.

He buries himself in you and sighs. He relaxes and keeps his arms around you. He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You lay over him, limp and defeated. His hands rove up and down your body, fondling your chest then kneading your thighs. He's greedy without end.

"You should start packing," he rasps and wiggles his hips. "Mmm, but you feel so good on me."

Your eyes widen as the ceiling and you feel another sheet of tears stinging. Your skin crawls and your heart thumps. He inhales deeply.

"I can hear that," he sits up with you still on him. "You don't have to be scared, sweetheart. I'm going to take care of you."

He frames your hips and rocks you in his lap. He purrs and keeps you moving. You whimper at achiness inside of you. You put your hands on his to keep from folding. He nuzzles the back of your head and drones.

"You're so good, feel what you do to me..."

You close your eyes and breathe through the agony. He doesn't stop. He tilts your hips until he tenses. He climaxes again and it drips out onto him. He pets your hair and pulls you to lean against him.

"Let's go home, huh?"

You murmur as shifts you with him to the edge of the bed. He slides you off his length with a groan and stands you up. His cum spills down your leg and you shiver. He grips you a moment longer before letting you go. You reach to wipe your thigh and he tuts.

"Baby, I want you to leave it. I want you wearing me until we get home. We can take a nice bath together and get washed up."

You retract your hand and swallow your disgust. His cum cools to stick streaks and squicks along the creases of your thighs. You don't know if you're more repulsed by him or your own weakness.

"Let's see," he stands and taps your ass lightly as he passes you, "what are you gonna wear?" He slides open your dresser and searches around. He stirs around your panties and shakes his head. "I need to buy you some cute stuff, huh? Maybe some thongs?"

He pulls open the next drawer and the next. He finds a tee shirt dress that doesn't go far past your thighs. You don't really wear it as more than something to be lazy in.

"Here," he tosses it to you.

You stare at him and hug the fabric.

"You don't need a bra, sweetheart," he winks.

You tuck your chin down and pull it over your head. You tug it as far down your legs as you can. He continues to ravage your belongings. You watch him gather things into a bag. Not everything, just what he thinks is necessary.

"Gonna get you new everything," he promises. "To go with your new men."

He smiles at you. You feel faint. He's still naked and completely shameless.

He zips up the slack duffel. You try not to show your distaste. As scared as you are, you're angry too. How can he do this and still act like a hero?

"Stop pouting or I'll have to fuck a smile onto your face," he warns.

Your lips part then you force them to curve. You turn and look around. You find some shoes and step into them. His demeanour tells you, you won't be seeing this place again.

He dresses and groans as he stretches out his neck and shoulders. He hooks the bag on his shoulder and approaches you. He sighs again as he balls then opens his hands.

"I feel good. More... relaxed," he steps into his boots. "I needed that."

You stare at him. You're a disaster. Just like your life. He doesn't seem to care about any of that.

"Come on, sweetheart," he opens the door. "Won't it be nice to be home?"

[kjhmyg]

rough edges pt. 19 (m) pairing: jungkook | reader genre: college!au, fluff, slight angst word count: 34k warnings: mentions of death, drug use, unprotected sex. 

summary: when you uncover your boyfriend's private life, a deep dive into it sucks you in as you try to help save him from himself.

a/n: i love you all, an epilogue will come after this, and then we're officially done. i hope you've enjoyed this long ride with me <3

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 6.5 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / part 19 / masterlist

RE asks tag / pinterest board

The revelation took a while to digest.

An hour later, and you’re still reeling from the surprise. After dinner, Namjoon retreated back to his apartment next door, one that had been vacant since the night of the raid. Your head continues to buzz. Everything had come to a standstill when the words spilled from Namjoon’s mouth. You were stunned into silence, eyes searching for any hint that he may be joking. But there was none of that, rather, a look of pride blooming on his face as he turned to your boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend, was his informant. 

⎼

By Jungkook’s request, you’re staying over, but it wasn’t like you were planning on leaving anyway. You’d gotten Namjoon to speak with Hana so she wouldn’t worry when you told her you’d be away for the night. She thinks you’re staying over his place to get some space, which isn’t entirely a lie. But you left out a crucial aspect. Your desire to be proven right about Jungkook flew out the window hours ago. It doesn’t matter that she or anyone else doesn’t know he’s alive. They don’t need to know (and not until Namjoon clears it anyway). The calm night sky rests in contrast to the bright, bubbling city underneath. A collection of lives unfold before you in countless small frames. Each window gives you a glimpse into a stranger’s world, and you realise the beauty of humans living alongside each other, fighting their own battles and hiding behind a mask of smiles and superficial posts. Yellow and red lights line the road below, heavy traffic continuing even at this time of the night. If you listen closely, you can even hear the rumbling of a motorcycle engine and the honks of tired drivers. Safe in your boyfriend’s room, away from the madness, a feeling of content washes over you. The cool wind from the AC leaves goosebumps over your exposed skin, clothed only in one of Jungkook’s shirts. Jungkook steps out of the bathroom after a shower, and catches your eye from across the room. Tossing his towel aside, he walks over and lets you snuggle up to him, practically melting into you himself. “So nice and warm.” you mumble against his shoulder. He chuckles, then brings his finger to your chin, lifting you up so he can land a soft, innocent kiss. Sighing right after, he mumbles. “I’ve missed this.” The light shining through the windows land perfectly on his face, accentuating his features. You brush his hair back to take a good look. There’s a subtle difference about him, a shift in his aura. The smile he now wears is innocent and childlike, as if the part of him that held up a tough front has completely melted away. Your hand comes up to his cheek and he lets his head sink into your palm affectionately. He flashes a smile and you feel yourself getting lifted off the floor, hooking your arms around him in surprise. The couch in the living area has been unfolded into a huge bed, covered in a large blanket, bordered with pillows. Jungkook lets you down gently before turning down the lights. You slide your feet under the covers, taking refuge from the cold, and he joins you soon after, walking back with drinks and snacks from the kitchen. “I bought a bunch of stuff and put it on Namjoon’s tab.” He giggles, leaving them on the coffee table at the side. You can’t stop staring at the way he’s visibly at ease now more than ever before, and at the same time in disbelief that he’s right in front of you. Noticing this as he makes himself comfortable, he pulls you in closer and tucks stray strands of hair behind your ear. “Did you like the flowers?” “I knew that was you!” The sudden outburst has him laughing. “The note at the cafe too?” You huff when he confirms your theory. “I wasn’t allowed to make direct contact, so I did it discreetly. But then my handler found out I’d gone to the cafe, and Namjoon lectured me about it. So I had to stop.” “And then the playlist?” He nods. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier.” He confesses. Recalling the events of the night, Jungkook can’t help but to smile to himself. “I didn’t know Namjoon was gonna reveal everything tonight.” “It’s crazy,” you say, “I haven’t seen him in weeks. And suddenly he shows up and tells me he needs to talk about the case.” Jungkook scoffs at the thought. “He’s so dramatic.” “You’re pretty close now, huh?” You ask, tilting your head as you think of how much he had hated Namjoon initially. “Yes and no.” Jungkook shrugs when you hit him with a confused look. “It’s complicated.” 

⎼

Jungkook struts down the street, eyeing every alley he walks past. He’d been getting updates from their runners about a man asking questions for the last month or so. Two weeks ago, Jungkook decided to check it out, only watching from afar. He sees the suspect walking with his hands in his pocket, hat covering his eyes, surveying and talking to people in the area. There’s a chance it’s nothing, sometimes people are just curious. But one too many complaints, and it would reach Kyun, which would escalate quickly. So Jungkook takes it upon himself to sort it out. “Hey!” Jungkook calls out, walking up to two figures talking in the dark of an alley a block away from the boss’ club. One of them he recognises, running off with a nod from Jungkook. Jungkook gives the suspect a once over. A mask covers his face, and the hat pulled down over his eyes, but it’s clear to Jungkook he’s not a customer. “Can I help you?” The guy shrugs, shaking his head. “Was just looking for some supplies.” Jungkook nods slowly. “I can get you that. You selling or just personal use?” “Personal.” He says. He nods in the direction where the previous runner had left. “What was wrong with that guy?” “Oh nothing.” Jungkook says. “Just that I could probably get you a better rate. He gets his supplies from me, so either way, it’s the same thing.” “I see.” Jungkook searches his jacket, hands going in and out of pockets only to come up empty. He looks at the man before him, “Shit, sorry man, seems I don’t have any on me right now. Why don’t you come over to our club, I have some there.” The man clicks his tongue, waving his hand. “It’s fine. I’ll just come back another time.” If someone were really desperate for a hookup, they would've taken the bait. The man’s aversion to his offer made him all the more suspicious to Jungkook. As he attempts to walk past, Jungkook’s hand lands firmly on his shoulder. The man is slightly taller, but he can clearly feel Jungkook’s strength. And though Jungkook hasn’t said a word, he knows he’s been made. He takes a step back, eyeing Jungkook. “It’s risky stuff. You might not want to pull on this thread.” “Get your hand off me, kid.” “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I suggest you stay away if you’re not here for supplies.” Jungkook warns him. His body language remains unchanged, and Jungkook’s positive now that he has an ulterior motive. “I’ll let you off tonight. But maybe next time, you won’t be so lucky.” Jungkook turns, and walks off, pausing only a couple of steps ahead. “But if you really do need some, come and find me.” He turns back only a fraction of the way, nodding his head, before speeding off. Once he’s sure Jungkook’s gone, Namjoon lets out the breath he’s been holding.

⎼

As Jungkook predicted, this guy doesn’t spook easily. Anyone who’s ever heard of their crew would suffice with a single warning. But not Namjoon. Two days later when Jungkook patrols down the same route, things looked ordinary enough. He goes on for a while without finding anything suspicious, and figures maybe that his warning did work after all. Lucky for Jungkook, because now he can get back to work. But as he does, he comes across a commotion along the way to the club. It’s not unusual in these areas. One two many drinks, or a line of coke later, and people lose all sense of sanity. Many times, he’s had to step in before someone gets hurt or calls the police. It’s only when he gets nearer to the source that he recognises the woman yelling as one of their own, fighting off three men who can’t seem to take the hint. Instinctively, he runs towards them but pauses just before he crosses the road. Something’s caught his attention. He sees someone else making a beeline towards the fuss, bulldozing his way into the men, and knocking them down like bowling pins. Even from across the street, Jungkook finds him familiar. The hat and the drabby navy blue jacket, it’s him. He’s strong, but he doesn’t fight from experience. He’s too strategic with his moves, clearly trained. It doesn’t take long before the three men give up, stumbling over as they attempt to run off. Jungkook watches his attention shift to the woman after. From a safe distance, Jungkook trails after them as he walks her to the club, stopping at a distance away and waving her off. She turns to give him a kiss on the cheek before rushing inside. Jungkook scoffs, “What a weasel.”

⎼

“This isn’t the first time a cop is sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.” Jungkook circles Namjoon, eyeing him down in a parking lot of a grocery. “You’re lucky I’m the one standing here.” “Oh yeah?” Namjoon pops open a bottle and chugs some of it down. “Why is that?” “If it was anyone else, you’d already be lying in a pool of your own blood.” Now that Jungkook has seen his face, and right through his cover, infiltrating the gang would be foolish at this point. He never thought his cover would be blown so quickly, before it even started. But his anonymity wasn't the only edge he had. Namjoon had done in depth research about the members, he knows what to expect from each one, and here standing in front of him is one he knows all too well. “I don’t want any trouble.” Namjoon raises his palms. “Can we talk?” “You’re risking your life just for a conversation?” “You look like you’re just a kid,” Namjoon’s comment confuses Jungkook, “do they usually start as young as you do?” “This isn’t an interview.” Jungkook’s walls come up. Something’s off about this guy, and he doesn’t like being around him. “You need to stop, I’m not kidding. These guys, they don’t play, they’re not the usual bad guys you⎼” “So I’ve heard.” “Then you know it’s in your best interest if I never see you around again.” Jungkook leaves it at that, walking away, hoping he’d take the warning seriously. “Hey kid.” Namjoon calls out. “You go to Inha University, right?” Jungkook’s steps slow down, contemplating on turning back, but that would just give him the satisfaction. Knowing that much about him, means he’s an actual threat. At this point, Jungkook knows he’s trouble. But escalating this would mean he’d be dead by tomorrow. Namjoon patiently waits for a response. Jungkook turns back to him, a serious look on his face. “I’m gonna do you a favour and forget what just happened. Leave. I’m serious. If I get word about you snooping around again, I might actually have to kill you.” Namjoon backs off, but not out of defeat. Jungkook couldn’t have given him a better response; he could have killed him right there, but he didn’t. Namjoon even gave him a second chance to do it, and again, he held back. “I guess I can’t give up just yet.” Namjoon mutters to himself. 

⎼

1 week later

The only thing Jungkook hates more than a meddler, is a persistent one. The moment his eyes land on a certain man he remembers telling to stay away, Jungkook knows this guy is going to make life difficult for him. Right after training, as he’s about to mount his bike, Namjoon walks over. The school compound is quiet at this time of evening. With no one around, Jungkook grabs him by the collar as soon as he’s within reach. “What the fuck are you doing here?” “I need to talk to you.” “Do you have a death wish? If anyone catches⎼” “No one else knows how I look like.” Namjoon shrugs, “Unless…”Jungkook averts his gaze at the insinuation. He hadn’t, in fact, told anyone about this guy, or the truth about what happened in that alley. When reporting back, he lied and said the man ran off before he could do anything. The lack of response gives Namjoon a further boost of hope. “As far as anyone can see, you’re just talking to a guy.” Jungkook looks around cautiously. “We can talk in my car?” Namjoon proposes.

“No.” Jungkook’s brows knit together in disgust at the friendliness in his tone. He mounts his bike and slips a helmet on. “Look, Jungkook⎼” “How the fuck do you know my name?” Jungkook pauses before kicking his bike stand up. “Who are you, really? What do you want?” Namjoon sighs. “I know a lot. I know the little blond guy who’s always schmoozing with the VIPs at the clubs is your partner. I know where you go to school, I know your friends. I know you stay at a greek house with⎼” “Enough.” Jungkook’s eyes pierce through Namjoon’s, his mind calculating the chances of this man pulling him into a trap. "Fine.” Jungkook decides, kicking the bike stand and his engine roars to life. “There’s a gym I go to just a little out of the district. Meet me there at midnight in two days.” Namjoon’s smile showcases his dimples, and he steps aside to give Jungkook way. 

⎼

Jungkook exits the gym five minutes after midnight, scanning the area outside to find Namjoon waiting by his car. Heavy steps take him there, scowling at the smile on the man’s face. “Alright, what do you want?” Namjoon chuckles, “Slow down, kid.” “Don’t call me that.” “Fine,” he extends his hand, “I’m⎼” “I don’t really care.” Jungkook cuts him off. “Just tell me what this is about.” Taking a breath, Namjoon goes over his proposal in his head. Knowing Jungkook’s position in Kim’s hierarchy, as one of those at the top at such a young age, he knows it won’t be easy trying to convince him. “You were right about me.” He says, “I’m not looking to buy.” Jungkook shuffles a tiny step back, straightening up, arms folding over his chest. “Thought so. Let me guess, they’re launching another investigation on Kim.” Namjoon nods, but the smile on his face just moments ago no longer there. “You’re a detective aren’t you? You’ve done your research. I’m sure you know people have tried. Time and again Kim has gotten away. What makes you think this time will be different?”

⎼

A movie plays softly in the background while Jungkook retells the story. As he talks, your interest grows, now sat up and facing him with your back to the television and the covers wrapped around your body. He laughs at you. “Look at you,” he taps your nose. “What happened next!” You whine, begging him to go on. Jungkook leans back against the couch and sighs. “I thought about it for a long while. Of course, I was mad about Hoseok but I was actually considering the offer, which was crazy. I thought about what it would mean to not be part of Kim’s gang, to not do things I used to do. But I just couldn’t see myself beyond any of that. It was just who I was. So why would I help him destroy the only place I ever belonged to?” There was sadness etched over his face and the tone of his voice. Stories of his past come back to you and you recall why Kim and everyone in that gang were so important to him. They were his entire life. “What changed?” You ask, fully invested in his story. “You.” Jungkook smiles fondly. “I met you.” “Me?” “I’d already turned Namjoon down by the time we first met,” he explains, looking a little shy, “but after we started seeing each other…I started seriously falling for you, and I thought maybe, maybe I could live a normal life. Like everyone else. I wanted that life. With you.” “Jungkook…” “So I called Namjoon and told him I’d take him up on his offer.” He says. “I’d get him info and in return they’d work out some form of immunity. I missed days of work because I was having meetings with him here, giving him a rundown of how things worked. Suga was livid ‘cause he thought I blew him off to hang out with you.” “You were having your meetings here? Oh⎼ so that’s⎼ oh.” It finally makes sense. The address he’d written down in his notebook wasn’t work-related, it was Namjoon’s address all along. Jungkook tilts his head. “What?” “Nevermind, please continue.” You say and he shakes his head. “No no no, I’m not letting you off. Tell me, what were you saying?” He tugs on the blanket, threatening to expose you to the cool air. “I just⎼ it’s kind of embarrassing.” Jungkook raises his brow, and you know he won’t let this go till you tell him. “You know how you didn’t like talking about work when we first started dating? But I got really curious and everyone kept hinting at it. So I kinda snooped around and looked through a little notebook you had in your room. And I came across an address…this address. I thought it would lead me to where you worked and what you were keeping from me.” His brows crease together, “You looked through my stuff?” “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have.” Your bottom lip juts out and he pretends to be mad, trying his best to hold back a smile because you look too cute. “You are so…nosey.” He laughs when you simply raise your eyebrows. “You’re not mad at me?” “I guess I would’ve been back then. But now, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” “Guess not,” you say, looking down, “all this while…you were just meeting up with Namjoon.”

He nods, “Yeah. Once his team had a solid plan, it was initiated. I didn’t even know what most of it consisted of. He said it needed to be as natural as possible, so it wasn’t until he was assigned to our team that I saw him again. I didn’t even know he’d take up a job at school.” “Is that why you were so against me being friends with him at the start?” You ask. “Sort of.” Jungkook remembers the exact day he’d seen you talking to Namjoon. “I wanted to keep you away from all of this." “I thought it was because you hated him and you were jealous.” “Oh I did hate him.” He says casually. “What? Just because I agreed to work with him doesn’t mean I need to like him. And please, you would never date a fart like him.” You hit him with a look and he shrugs, reaching out to unroll the sheets you’ve made yourself comfortable in. He grabs you by the thigh and pulls you closer. Then drops his head on your lap and closes his eyes. “So yeah, that’s about it basically.” He mumbles. When your fingers rake through his hair, he hums an exhale. Almost melting into the bed if he could, his body visibly relaxes with your touch. “You haven’t been sleeping well, huh?” His cheek rubs against you when he nods, and goosebumps appear on his skin as you trace your nails on his scalp. You focus on the movie while Jungkook remains in your lap, staying that way for a while. You expected him to doze off like he usually does. But his eyes glazed over, staring into the distance. The smile he had earlier is gone. “What’s on your mind?” Your tender voice soothes him out of his daze. “Just thinking…” his voice is hoarse, “that it’s finally over.” He’s still trying to come to terms with what’s happened, and you can’t imagine what the last month or so has been for him, having to watch his entire world crumble. It’s a complicated web of emotions that he’s trying to untangle. On one hand, he’s free, but on the other, what did it take for him to get here? Even while he spoke earlier, you sensed confliction. “How are you feeling?” You ask, treading carefully. “When you were talking about Kim earlier, I saw that look on your face. And now that he’s…” You swear you see his face muscles twitch at the question, and perhaps his eyes get a little glossier than before. But he blinks the urge to cry away, and knits his brows together. “I don’t want to talk about that.” “Okay,” you trace a finger over his features again, forcing them to relax. You wipe away the tiny puddle formed in the corner of his eyes. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. You can tell me anything, remember?” Opening his eyes, he’s greeted by your own, and he sits up to face you. “Right now, I just want to be with you.”

Warmth spreads to your cheeks. Maybe it’s the weeks of separation that’s got you blushing at his words but the way he’s staring does you no favours. Your breath hitches when he gets close, face inches away and breath hot against your face. He’s greeted with a satisfied hum from you when your lips touch. Fingers cup your jaw to hold you steady. Somehow your hands find their way to his body now that he’s leaning, practically hovering, over you. He all but devours your mouth, tongue fighting for dominance and a soft whimper leaves you when his teeth grazes your bottom lip.

Pulling away, your half-lidded eyes reflect your desire. And it all but fuels his own. Skin burning under your touch, you revel in the way his breath gets caught as your hands slide down his abs, fingers dangerously dancing by the hem of his pants. He’s quick to react, pulling you into his lap so that you’re straddling him, arms resting over his shoulders while his hands roam over your thighs. Jungkook’s body relaxes with a sigh, pulling you taut against him, face buried between your clothed chest. Your head rests against his, and he feels your heart thumping against your body. “Y/N,” his words come out as a whisper, “I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you that night.” His grip only tightens when you try to look at him. “I know, baby. I feel the same way.” You kiss the side of his head. “You’re everything to me.” He says, this time looking up at you. “I’d die if I ever lose you.” “I’m not going anywhere.” You say, lips ghosting over his. “I’m all yours.” Your lips find each other again, and the kiss burns with his ache for you. It’s a feeling he’s still getting used to, one he’s only ever experienced with you. He never thought he had the capacity to love someone this much. Your hips move against him ever so gently, yet it gets you a delicious hum of approval. Abandoning your mouth, he plants soft kisses on your neck, focusing his attention on that sweet spot that has you sighing. The growing tent in his pants starts to bother him and he shifts uncomfortably, only to buck into your instead. You palm his hardness and he breaks contact, letting out a groan and throwing his head back. His growing impatience stops the attention you’re giving him and switches up your positions, leaving you on your back against the cool blankets and him kneeling between your legs. The shirt you’re wearing hovers dangerously just below your hips, but with your legs spread, he gets a good view of your sex, mouth salivating. Jungkook peppers kisses along your inner thigh. Your insides throb with anticipation when you feel his hot breath on your cunt, teasing you with the softness of his lips, till you feel his tongue brushing against your clit teasingly. You grip the sheets at the contact, already feeling the adrenaline rush. Jungkook thinks you’re cute, he’s barely done anything and you’re already holding on for your life. He gets back on his knees, much to your disappointment. This time, he lifts your shirt up and you arch your back to help him, leaving it just above your chest. “You’re so fucking pretty.” He mutters, eyes staring down your naked form. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, feeling the heat rush to your face. It occurs to you how long it’s been since the last time you were together, for you to be embarrassed in front of him. Deprived of his touch in months, that even a simple compliment has you blushing. Rough hands roam your body, starting from your thighs, all the way up to your breasts. Soon his lips join them, leaving the softest kisses all over. You sigh as he captures your right nipple in his mouth, thighs closing on him in response. You can feel the upturn of his lips, smirking his way across to your left. The jerk your body does as his tongue grazes the tip of your nipple has his hands sinking into your flesh. His right hand slides down your body, finding its way to your growing wetness. He plays with your folds and teasingly around your entrance. You spread your legs wider, gripping onto his arm as he easily slips in two fingers. You’re embarrassed of the sounds you’re making, but it’s music to his ears. His fingers move at a good pace, but it’s not enough. “More please⎼ “

“More?” He asks against your skin. You nod. He obliges, letting in two more fingers as he studies your face, eyes falling shut, trying to reach your high. Your hands grip roughly around his arm. “F-faster⎼” He has half a mind to stop, just to tease you a little. But you look too good when you’re chasing your high. So pretty and whiny. Mesmerised by the way your mouth drops open, he quickens the pace, feeling the burn on his arm. Your voice gets caught in your throat when he curves his fingers to hit that spot, and Jungkook feels the warmth coating his fingers as you reach your high, continuing to milk every last drop out of you. You take a while to recover, reeling from the first orgasm in months. Part of you embarrassed it took so little to get you there. When you finally get your sanity back, you open your eyes to Jungkook watching you as he sucks your fluid off his fingers. He momentarily gets off the couch and slips his pants off. You reach out to him, wanting to feel him close to you. He climbs over, letting his weight rest on you. “Feel good?” You nod, “But I want you.” Something dark flickers in his eyes as he gazes into yours. His cock twitches between your bodies and you start to throb again. “Where do you want me?” “I want you inside me,” your hands slip around his cock and he lifts his hips up to make room, “I want you to fuck me.” He makes a slow exhale. Your hand rubs over his tip as the words slip out of your mouth. His eyes shut as he grinds into your hand. Then he pushes himself off, and positions himself between your legs. “Fuck,” he mutters, eyes roaming over you, chest heaving at the sight, “all mine.” It makes your heart skip, and cunt throb with anticipation. His cock rubs against your folds, coating him with your wetness, before aligning with your entrance, carefully watching your face as he lets himself in. A gasp leaves you and your back arches slightly. He goes tauntingly slow just to savour the look you have. “Jungkook,” you mutter his name in a whisper as he fits all of him inside you. He can barely control himself right then, hips bucking against you. He goes slow, allowing you to get used to him before increasing the pace. Your gasps turn to soft mewls, and he keeps a steady pace only to keep hearing the sweet sounds you’re making. 

Jungkook looks divine, even with the scars on his body. Your eyes drop to the one on his thigh, the one he’d gotten the night you were kidnapped. Then to his lower abdomen where Hongjun had shot him. He’d taken a bullet for you, not once but twice. He decided to change his life because he wanted to have one with you.

You love him. You love him. You love him. The change in your demeanour doesn’t go unnoticed . Jungkook slows down, studying you carefully. He meets you face to face, pressing his body gently against yours, slowly pumping himself into you. His arms cage you in on both sides of your head and your legs wrap around him. A gasp escapes you as he rolls his hips into you. “Is this okay?” He asks. When you don’t respond, he breaks his rhythm, worried that he may be pushing you too hard. After all, you’re still recovering. The consideration he shows you further intensifies the feeling bubbling inside of you. “I love you.” The whisper of your words surprises him, and with his body against yours, you feel the rise of his heart rate. If possible, it’s as if the burning in his chest is seeping into yours. He kisses you, warm and gentle against your lips. “I love you too.” Jungkook gets back his rhythm, driven by the pool of emotions in his chest. Your words echo in his mind and a tight knot forms inside him, filled to the brim with his feelings for you. With eyes piercing into yours, it’s impossible to look away. He wants to fuck you senseless, but already he’s feeling the heat in his core. It’s the way your body moves in sync with his. Each thrust meets with the gentle rise of your hips, allowing him to fill you up. He pauses for a beat each time, savouring the warmth of your walls around his cock. And with the lustful way you’re looking at him, he could come undone anytime. Only you could have this effect on him. Jungkook maintains control, grunting each time he looks down to where you become one, pleased at how well you take him. Your hand guides him back to you. Jungkook loses his breath when you force him to meet your gaze. You’re so beautiful. For a moment he falters, thrusts becoming sloppy, and you wrap your arms around him to have him close. He swallows up your moans, your tongue losing in a battle of dominance as he devours you. Your nails dig into the flesh of his back, when you feel that familiar knot in your core. Jungkook keeps his pace steady, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, addicted to the way you write under him, arching your back in anticipation. “I’m gonna cum⎼” you whisper, eyes closed. “Yeah? Cum for me baby,” Jungkook says, against your lips, giving you gentle kisses. His voice reverberates against your neck as he speaks. You open your eyes again, and they’re met with his awe-struck gaze. “Want you⎼ cum with me⎼” You feel it coming, the pressure inside you on the brink of explosion. Your hips buck up to meet his as he continues to slam into you, his hot breath against your ear. Getting sloppy himself, moans leave Jungkook’s mouth as he goes. He wipes the hair out of your face, grabbing your attention so your eyes can meet again. Your gazes lock on to each other and neither can tear away. He wants this moment to last forever. Intertwined with you, making love to you. Jungkook feels himself reaching his high, but something else creeps up his chest, and waters his eyes. “I’m⎼c⎼” 

You lose all senses as the pressure in your core snaps, and your legs tremble against him, fingers scraping his back. Jungkook’s thrusts get sloppy, but he carries on, determined to let you ride out your orgasm. Jungkook curses at the lewd expression on your face and the moans you gift him with. Your walls squeeze around his cock and his own resolve breaks as he cums inside you with a heavy load, moaning right in your ear. His weight rests completely on top of you as he buries his face next to yours, and you let him milk every last drop inside of you. You rub his back soothingly, kissing the side of his head. When he can finally bring himself to face you, you’re greeted with his glossy eyes. “I love you so much.”

⎼

It’s the middle of the night when you roll over, throwing your arm to the other side of the couch bed. But you don’t find what you’re reaching for, Jungkook’s side now empty. The digital clock on the console reads 3am. You usually stir from your sleep at this time anyway. His voice comes from the other side of the room, behind the couch where the dining table is. Jungkook’s talking to someone. But at this time? Sleep still masking your attention, you only manage to pick out a couple of words he’s whispering. “No, I don’t know how to tell her…” Tell you what? It sobers you slightly and you feel a pang to your chest, with a familiar anxiety building inside of you. You sit up on the edge of the bed and  the movement gets Jungkook’s attention. He ends the call right then, and you walk over, tripping over your own feet in the dark. Rubbing your eyes, you reach out to him and he pulls you in. You find the space between his legs and sit on his lap, leaning your body against his. “Baby, why are you up?” He asks quietly. “I couldn’t find you.” You say sleepily and he resists the urge to squish your face. “Why are you up?” “I can’t sleep.” He says, slipping his arm under your knees and lifting you back to where you came from. He climbs over you and to the other side, pulling the covers over both of you. You look at his face, illuminated by the lights from the window. The redness in his eyes, bags under them. “You look so tired.” “I am.” He admits, “But I just can’t sleep. It takes a while.” “What do you do when you can’t sleep?” “Think of you,” he says sweetly, running his thumb over your cheek, “all of you.” “Shut up.” You giggle, getting comfy under the covers. “Something bothering you?” “I just keep getting nightmares from that night.” You let him snuggle comfortably with his head against the crook of your neck, deep breaths taking in your scent. “Tell me.” “The moment I doze off, I’m just back to that night…the chaos…the panic,” he sucks in a breath, “it all comes back to me.” “Did something happen that night? Something you want to talk about?” You can’t understand what’s going on in his mind. A part of him must be relieved to know that the entire operation was a success despite the lives lost. But something tells you there’s something else that’s bothering him. Jungkook shakes his head. “No. Nevermind.” “Jungkook,” you sigh, “maybe talking about it will help.” He presses himself deeper into you if that’s even possible. It’s obvious now that there’s more he needs to unpack before he’ll feel okay. “Whatever it is, we’ll go through it together.” You say. The arm around your body gets heavier and his breaths get even. You continue to rub a soothing hand down his back. “I’ll always be here for you.”

⎼

Namjoon sits at the table with Jungkook, in discussion over something important. So important that you aren’t allowed to be part of it. In the last two days you’ve been here, Jungkook would go over to Namjoon’s apartment to have these talks, but today, he’s decided to have it here instead. You occasionally sneak peeks from Jungkook’s room, looking through a gap in the door. Jungkook picks up the movement from his peripheral and sends you a wink. You smile, then close the door again. One last look in the mirror, and you’re slinging your bag over your shoulder, carefully opening the door so as to not interrupt them, but also making your presence known. The talking stops once you’re within hearing range. “I’ll be back.” You go up to Jungkook and give him a kiss. “Bye Namjoon.” “The car’s waiting for you downstairs.” He says, nodding, then points his pen at you. “And remember, not a word.” “Got it.” You pretend you zip your lips. Having to keep this on the low unfortunately means you’ve got to keep lying to everyone. When you arrive at the apartment, Hana rushes out of her room with a huge smile on her face. “Hey.” She says apprehensively. You almost forget you’d left things a little weird that day. “Hi.” You hug her first, and she sighs in relief, hugging you back. “Everything okay?” “I should be asking you that.” “I’m good.” You nod, and she relaxes, relieved to see you in good spirits. “I needed the space. I feel better now.” “Okay,” she holds your hand, “sorry about the other day. I was insensitive.” “No no, it’s alright. I mean,” you scoff, “I wasn’t in the right state of mind anyway.” “I know but⎼” “Don’t worry about it.” You assure her firmly, wanting to move on from the subject. The flowers Jungkook got you were starting to wilt, looking lonely and sad on your table, so you gave it a water change. After which you start packing a load of clothes, enough to last you a week, into a duffel bag. Wafting through the apartment, the smell of good homemade cooking distracts you, and you leave the packing aside to hop outside. “What’s this?” You ask, smirking as you walk to the kitchen where Hana has made herself busy. “I’m making your favourites; chicken soup and butter prawns!” Her voice goes up an octave, proudly showing off her cooking. She’d always been the better cook anyway, so you don’t doubt its taste. In fact, you’re salivating just thinking about the gorgeous prawns she made last time, and the chicken soup she’s working on now bubbling on the stove, with the rice cooker steaming on the counter behind her. Her face drops when you don’t react the way she expected you to. You don’t even realise you’d been standing there with a blank look. “What’s wrong?” You force a smile. “It sounds amazing Hana. You know I love your cooking.” “But?” But you weren’t exactly planning on staying till dinner. You were so focused on getting back to Jungkook that you’d completely forgotten to tell her that. “I just thought…I’d go back⎼” “Go back?” “To Namjoon’s apartment?” You say carefully. “It’s just that he has an empty place and I think being on my own is actually good for me right now so…” “Oh.” You can almost hear the sound of her heart breaking. The more you speak, the worse her expression gets and you hate yourself for it. Jungkook can wait. You’ll see him again tonight anyways. “But you know what, I can stay for dinner. Not like I have anything else to do.” You chuckle.

Hana perks up just a little. “I didn’t realise you were going back. And so soon.” “Well yeah I just⎼ it’s a nice place and⎼ it’s just good for me⎼ like maybe right now I need⎼” Curses float through your mind as you struggle to find the right excuse without hurting her. But now she’s looking at you confused by your stammering. She knows you too well to know you’re hiding something. “Fuck it.” You groan, running your hand over your face. “Jungkook’s alive. He’s at Namjoon’s place. I’ve been with him for the last few days.” It was certainly not what Hana was expecting, mouth parting in surprise, struggling to process what you just said. 

⎼

“Are you sure?” Namjoon’s eyes pierce Jungkook’s. “You have no idea where Suga is?” “I’m telling you the truth. That night was the last time I saw him. I don’t know where he is now.” It hurts Jungkook to think about it. That the last night he’d seen Suga was the same night he’d betrayed Kim in that alley. Namjoon observes Jungkook for a minute. In his experience, there’s always a chance of a cover up. They’d been going through the names of those arrested, Jungkook helping Namjoon pair their real names with their aliases and identifying those who managed to escape and their threat level. Suga being one of them. “Fine. I believe you.” So he says. “But if we do find him, he is going to prison.” “I know that.” “And if we find out that you’ve been in contact with him, then your immunity is revoked.” Jungkook nods curtly. Turning back to his notes, Namjoon goes over a couple more things before their meeting is done. He piles the papers into a stack and slots them into a confidential file. He glances at the younger man, now zoned out, staring at the centrepiece of the table. “It’s almost confirmed. You have to tell her soon.” “I know, I just can’t find it in me.” Jungkook leans back. “I’ve been agonising over the last two days. How can I burst her bubble like that? She’s gone through so much, and finally we get to be together again. How do I…” Jungkook trails off, as if speaking about it would make reality come quicker. “How do I break it to her that I’m gonna be sent away?” 

⎼

You proudly show off your old phone to Hana. “See? I got it back.” “That’s great.” She smiles, still trying to process the sudden flood of information. You’ve spent the last half an hour breaking your promise to Namjoon. But that doesn’t matter, you’ll deal with him when the time comes. Or maybe he just doesn’t have to know. “But I’m still…are you sure that person is really Jungkook? Not an imposter? Is this all a dream? Am I part of your dream?” Hana yelps when you pinch the flesh of her arm. “Does that hurt?” “Yes?!” “So this isn’t a dream.” Hana looks at you unbelievably. “Okay, you’re back to normal. So this is all real.” “It took me a while too.” You say, sporting a silly smile that she hasn’t seen in a while. “But it’s real. He’s alive. And safe. He’s just been laying low at Namjoon’s place the whole time.” “And all along he’s been…” “Namjoon’s informant.” “That’s crazy.” Hana laughs. “That’s the craziest thing yet. I mean, besides you getting held hostage of course.” “I know.” You stop chewing and cross your arms on the table. “Now, I’m not supposed to tell you any of this so please.” “I won’t tell anyone.” She nods. “Not even Hoseok.” “I promise.” Hana holds out her pinky and you hook yours around it. She looks more relieved to have you back than anything else. “I’m glad he’s safe. I know you’ve been worried sick the last couple of weeks. I love that I can finally see you smile like this again.” A pang of guilt hits you hard. Hana had been with you throughout your recovery and it hasn’t been easy for her, but she tried her best. That was never in doubt. On the other hand, you were less than pleasant to deal with. Even if you weren’t yourself, she didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of your outbursts. “Hana, I’ve been awful to you. I’m so sorry.” You reach over to grab her hand. “I couldn’t control myself. I felt like everyone was too careful around me…but at the same time I hated it when you guys were honest with me.” “I get it,” she exhales. “You were just trying to stay optimistic but we kept shutting you down. I think anyone would’ve been annoyed.”  “Still, I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.” “I felt so bad after.” Hana admits. “I thought you didn’t want to come back because you were still mad at me.” “I was kinda upset but,” you shake your head, “I would never just leave you, Hana. You’re my best friend.” She smiles. “You were right in the end though. About Jungkook.” “I told you so.” Laughter fills the room, washing away any tension that has plagued the house in the last month.

⎼

The cool night air bites at your skin. Jungkook swims laps in the pool, while you sit on the edge, splashing your feet in the water. Past midnight, no one else comes up here, leaving you with the perfect space to get some fresh air. Jungkook appears between your legs, brushing his hair back and wiping the water off his face. He shows off his charming smile when you raise your brows. “You just brought me here to seduce me.” “It’s working though, right?” He chuckles. Jungkook carries you into the warm water, and you let your legs hook around him. With his arm firmly around your waist, you lean back, gazing up at the night sky. “I can’t believe rich people have rooftop pools. This is amazing.” “Wait till you see the sauna.” You gasp dramatically and his nose scrunches up. He floats about with you in his arms and your head rested on his shoulder. A sigh of content leaves your lips. “I’m so happy.” His arms seem to tighten around you just then, and after a while he moves towards the steps where the both of you rest with half your bodies in the water. Expression unreadable, he watches you fix your hair and scoots closer when you smile at him. His hand comes up to your thigh and it seems as though he’s building to say something. “What?” You ask, tilting your head to look at him when he looks away. Jungkook shakes his head. “I um…” Seconds go by as he contemplates, then finally faces you again. “Let’s get out of here.” “Oh okay,” you shrug, “we can watch that new netflix release⎼” “No,” Jungkook’s eyes go wide just like it used to when he’s up to something, “not back to the apartment. Out of here, like, out of here.” “You wanna leave? Are you allowed to do that?” “We can go watch a movie at the theatre.” “You’re definitely not allowed to do that.” “Come on!” Jungkook gets out first, water gushing down as he does, and extends his hand out to you. Staring up at him, the consequences line up in your head. There are limitations he has to abide by, and he’d already been caught once. His eyes shine with a glimmer of hope, wiggling his fingers in encouragement. His smile only gets bigger when you grab his hand and trail along after him. A man appeared at the front door upon Jungkook’s call; his handler, apparently. This is the first time you’re meeting the man who’s been assigned to make sure Jungkook’s well taken care of. And that includes ensuring he doesn’t leave the premises unless…

“That’s not an emergency.” He says. From the looks of it, he’s young. Possibly younger or even the same age as you are. He dresses casually, coming up from the floor just below. “No.” You hear him say immediately after Jungkook opens his mouth. Jungkook pulls him inside. “Please. Just this once.” He maintains his resolve but his hands ball up into fists by his side. Standing just a little shorter than Jungkook, it’s comical to see him frowning up at him as if Jungkook’s the one in charge. “Just this once? Are you forgetting what you did last time?” You assume he’s referring to the time Jungkook broke the agreement just to see you. “And I could’ve just left without a word again this time, but here I am, informing you, like a nice person.” “Please.” The young man scoffs and folds his arms. “It’s because my boss changed the security settings, and your biometrics don’t work anymore. That’s why you need me.” “Well yeah, basically.” “Eugh,” he balls his fist up again, “you are so annoying. Why can’t you just stay here like you were ordered to and not get me into any more trouble?” You go over to Jungkook’s side, hugging his arm. “He’s right. Let’s just stay in.” The boy’s eyes slide over to you for a second. But Jungkook doesn’t agree, speaking softly over his shoulder. “No, we’ve been here for ages.” “But I don’t want him to get in trouble. Or you.” Jungkook loses tension as you speak. You’re always so considerate. “But⎼” “Sorry to disturb you so late. We’ll stay in.” You cut him off and the look on his handler’s face softens, though still guarded. Jungkook pulls you aside, speaking in a whisper. “I thought you wanted to get out of here? And watch a movie?” “Not if we have to force our way out.” You reason. “We’ll be able to do all of that after you’re done here. We don’t have to rush things, we have so much time.” The corners of Jungkook’s lips twitch, holding back frustration. “It’s fine.” You say, getting him to look at you again. Behind him, the man clears his throat to get your attention. “I uh⎼ there is one way I can let you go.” He shares a sympathetic smile when you make eye contact, though he stares down Jungkook’s back right after. “I can go with you. I’ll have to drive you to where you wanna go. And I’ll stay with you throughout. When you’re done, I’ll drive us back. That way I have eyes on you at all times.” You look at Jungkook, raising your brows. He’s clear considering the idea, though he doesn’t want to show how moved he is that this young man is actually trying to help him out. 

⎼

“Here.” Jungkook holds the ice-cream an inch away from your face. Each time you lean forward, he pulls it back, till you move too quickly and eventually have ice-cream on your nose. He giggles, wiping the dessert off your face when you glare at him. In his peripheral he catches sight of an unwanted presence nearby, and his attention separates from you momentarily. “Stop.” You shove him lightly. “Look at him, lurking.” “It’s his job.” You remind him and he rolls his eyes. “You should be grateful. He could’ve just ignored us and went back to bed but he wanted to⎼” “Okay.” Jungkook’s lower lip juts out. He continues eating his ice cream while sulking. Jaemin ⎼ you found out his name ⎼ had helped you out of the building and drove you to a nearby drive-through for ice-cream. Though you felt weird about it, Jungkook asked if there was a secluded place he could drive to. And now you’re at a peaceful picnic spot atop a hill, overlooking the entire city with no one else in sight. “You have to admit, it’s a great view.” Jungkook rolls his eyes once more and you tug on his ear. “Ow⎼ yes okay⎼ yes!” He rubs his ear when you let go, “Stop being a baby.” Jungkook glances at Jaemin, then leans in. “I have an idea. If we start having sex right now, I bet he’ll⎼” His laughter fills the night when you shove him once again, keeping himself steady with his other hand. You rest against him, hooking your arm under his and closing the gap between you. Your eyes settle on a tall building in the distance, a string of bright lights shining along the edges. It overshadows Namjoon’s apartment out of sight just behind it. “That’s a pretty one.” “That one’s prettier.” He points to a lavish mansion sitting elegantly atop one of the adjacent hills. “Okay fancy pants. A month at Namjoon’s apartment and you’re already acting like a spoiled rich kid.” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I’m just saying, I’ve been saving up all these years. Better be nice to me or you’re not invited.” You scoff. “Oh you’re too good for me now huh?” You pinch his side and he flinches, dropping whatever’s left of his cone, watching as it rolls down into the darkness. He glares at you and you press your finger to your lips to hide a smile before breaking out into laughter, Jungkook joining you. “Sorry.” You say between giggles. 

He dusts his hands off before putting his arm around you. “You’re definitely not invited.” Your cheeks burn from smiling too wide, a feeling you’ve missed. Comfortably resting on him, your hands find warmth under his jacket. “Can’t wait for you to be free. Where are you gonna stay?” Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat. “I don’t know yet.” “You haven’t thought about it?” You ask mindlessly, playing with his fingers. “What’s the point of having a girlfriend if I can’t crash at her place?” It makes you giggle and he kisses the top of your head. “You’re welcome anytime. But on a serious note, it might not be cool if you stay with us long term.” “Kicking me out already…” You punch him in the chest and he jokingly whines about how violent you’re getting. An idea brews in your mind and you chew on your bottom lip. “Maybe…we could get a place together?” Maybe you were just imagining it, but you felt him stiffen up. Looking up, you see him staring at the view with a complex look, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Mm.” The indifference in his reply stings. It was a suggestion you thought he’d be on board with when you’ve basically been living together the last few days. “You can say no if you don’t want to.” “It’s not that,” he sighs, “there’s a lot of things that…” “What?” The next few seconds of silence stretches out into what feels like forever. Leaving you with the same nervousness bubbling inside the pit of your stomach you used to feel; he’s keeping something from you. Jungkook’s internal frenzy is cut short ⎼ and saved ⎼ by Jaemin, who calls out to the both of you. “Let’s head back. We’ve been out long enough.” Your bodies slip away from each other and Jungkook nods at him before turning to you, looking up at him with a vague expression on your face. He smiles to ease the tension and leans forward, lips pacifying your worries for a moment. “Let’s talk about this next time, okay?” He whispers. You push the negative thoughts far back, not wanting to ruin the night.

⎼

Over the next two days, Jungkook had been adamant about getting his way with Jaemin. Even when you insist on staying home, he shakes his head, bothering the poor handler every few hours about the next time he can leave the apartment. You sit by the kitchen island, staring at the glorious view of his back while he cooks a nice meal for the two of you. The only thing that had stopped him from bothering Jaemin was putting your foot down and threatening to leave. Reluctantly, he finally left the boy alone. Jungkook places a steak on your plate, lips slightly jutted as he continues sulking. “Thank you baby.” He sighs, placing the pan back on the stove and getting his own plate. “We could’ve had steak at a proper restaurant.” He mutters, taking the seat across. “But I like your cooking better.” The corners of his lips twitch a little. His cooking has always been good, so you don’t expect anything less. You hum at every bite, placing your hand to your chest with gratitude, and he watches you fondly, smiling wider at every little expression you make. That night, he tucks some stray hair behind your ear while you’re asleep. The covers are pulled all the way up to keep you from the cold. His fingers graze over the skin of your cheek and you stir, smacking your lips together, then breaking into a light snore. The front door plays a jingle as it unlocks. He turns his head in the direction of the hallway which reflects a soft glow from outside. He’s careful not to wake you as he slides off the bed and shuts the door safely and silently. In the dark, he trots over to the long dining table where Namjoon sets his coat over one of the chairs, undoing his tie. “What’s up? Why do you look like that?” He asks when he turns to a dishevelled Jungkook. “I haven’t told her.” Jungkook stands in front of the window, right next to Namjoon, who’s looking at him from the side. “You’re gonna have to soon. I just submitted the paperwork.” “It’s not that easy.” Jungkook says softly. “You want me to do it?” Jungkook had considered it. Maybe hearing it from Namjoon would make it seem more necessary, and that would hurt less. But that would be cowardly of him. “No. I think that might be worse.” “Just lay out the facts.” Namjoon says. “And tell her now before it’s too late. At least she’ll get time to process everything.” “I know. I’ll tell her tomorrow.” “Alright.” Namjoon slaps him on the shoulder. “Let’s go over the details.”

⎼

“What⎼ how?!” “I’m sorry!” Jungkook whines, and you snatch the knitting from his hands. The tangled yarn sticks to the needle, with the remaining yarn unravelled all over the floor. “I’ve never done this before!” “But how did it get to this?” Jungkook drops himself on the couch, “You said this would be relaxing.” “Yeah if you do it right.” You mutter as you try to free the needle. “This is literally impossible. You weren’t listening to my instructions were you?” “No, every time you talk all I hear is the melodious sound of your voice luring me into your world.” Your palm lands harshly on his thigh and a high-pitched yelp escapes him. The amusement on your end fades away when instead of retaliating, Jungkook folds over, clutching his thigh while letting out a guttural groan. Panic sets in when you realise where your palm had landed ⎼ right on his wound. Your hands slap over your mouth with a gasp, dropping the tangled web of yarn to the floor. “I’m so sorry!” You continue to watch with horror as he buries his head into his leg. The amount of guilt you feel is indescribable, you couldn’t imagine how much it hurt. But the guilt slowly dissipates when seconds later, he breaks character, raising his head and ending the dramatics with his bunny teeth making an appearance. “Just kidding.” For a moment he regrets his decision, the dead stare you’re giving him making his stomach drop. “You. Asshole.” Picking up a cushion, he shields himself from your attacks, and you hear his laughter coming from the other side of the cushion. You manage to pry it away and his eyes widen though his grin remains, and he blocks your next attempt, grabbing your wrists in time. Leaning in, your face hangs just inches away from his bunny smile. “You’re surprisingly strong.” He comments. “I’m angry.” “Cute and angry.” You growl for effect and he chuckles. Though he’s holding on tight, you’re no match for him. He easily lowers your wrists and pulls you in closer, but you resist. “Listen,” he laughs, “I have something to tell you.” At first you think he could just be messing with you to get you to stop, but playfulness switches into a genuine smile as he speaks. Your body relaxes out of interest and you fall back to the couch, letting your legs drape over his. He laughs at the speed of your transition, now looking at him with curious eyes. “I spoke to Namjoon,” he starts and you nod, “he says we can tell the others now. So if you want to, we’ll have them over for dinner or something.” “Oh my god, yes!” You burst to your knees, arms folding around his neck. “Let’s do it! When?” “Whenever you like.”

“Okay, we need to prepare though. Should we surprise them?” You muse over the thought. “Your choice.” Jungkook shrugs, picking up the knitting materials off the floor and throwing them into its original box. “Oh come on,” you grab his hands, palm to his cheek, “they’re your friends too. They’ve been worried about you. And I know you’ve missed them.” Jungkook smiles, “Yeah, I guess I have.” “They’ll be ecstatic!” You clap your hands. “So how do you wanna do it?” “Honestly…I think I’d just like a nice dinner with everyone.” His eyes glaze over. “I feel like we’ve never done that before. We’re always doing our own things. Either that or, we’re fighting. Dinner would be good.” “Aw.” You press your lips to his cheek. “That’s so sweet Jungkook.” “Also, I can’t wait to kick Hoseok off his high horse.” “And there it is.” You roll your eyes and shove him. “Well what about you?” He scoffs, “Didn’t you say no one believed you a week ago, and that you can’t wait to rub it in their faces.” You smile sheepishly. “Fine, so we’ll both rub it in everyone’s faces.” “Sounds good.” Jungkook leans in till his lips find yours. “Let’s go do some grocery shopping.” You tilt your head. “Did you run this by Jaemin?” “Ugh, I hate that you know his name.” Jungkook winces. “No. But I talked Namjoon into giving me some freedom befor⎼” “Before?” You watch him freeze for a moment, then shake it off. “Before I go crazy here.” You nod slowly, a little suspicious over his fumbling of words. But he carries on normally, shoving the box of knitting materials aside so he can go get ready, motioning for you to do the same. 

⎼

Covered in black from head to toe with a hat pulled all the way down, covering his eyes, Jungkook drapes his arm around you as you walk around a lesser known part of the city. Every time you glance at him, or see his reflection on the window of the shops you pass by, you snicker. Only the bottom half of his face is visible, almost like you’re walking with a celebrity. A large supermarket comes into view and you go over the list of things to buy in your head. But as you walk by, his arm stops you from turning into it. Instead, the two of you walk on by. “Wasn’t that the…” “Yeah we can order online and put it on Namjoon’s tab like I always do.” He waves it off. “So then why did you⎼” “So we can go on a proper date. Ours got cut short last time.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Shall we go to a museum? Bookstore?” “I thought you hated museums.” “You love them though?” He asks lifting his chin so he can see you better.  He slows down when he notices you do the same, face twisted with concern. “What if you get in trouble? We’re not supposed to be out and about.” Jungkook sighs. The arm around your shoulders drops down your back and you feel his fingers snaking between yours. “Didn’t I say I got Namjoon to ease up on the restrictions?” If you were being honest, a teeny tiny part of you doesn’t believe him. He tilts his head to meet your gaze and you see the wrinkles forming around his eyes as he smiles. “You can call him and check if you want to.” Then again, Namjoon had given him an access card which allowed him out of the building, one which he passed on to you to keep. Jungkook is sneaky but there’s no way he would’ve gotten a card without Namjoon knowing. “You can stand there all day thinking about it,” Jungkook shrugs, leaving you behind. He turns as he walks and you can only see his smile as he goes, “meanwhile, I’m gonna check out the new historial arts exhibition⎼” He breaks into laughter when you charge at him head on, pressing your head against his side and squeezing his arm against your body, sparkling eyes begging him to take you there. 

 ⎼

“You always choose the worst ones.” Your brows crease together just as you bring the spoon to your mouth. “You’re literally eating cotton candy flavoured ice cream.” Jungkook rolled his eyes and complained when you dragged him to yet another ice-cream place on the way back, but easily gave in when you mentioned getting ice-cream on dates is our thing. He never realised it but it’s true. And he finds it absolutely adorable. A couple of bars stay open down the street and the clinking of glasses, live music, and mindless chatter echo into the night. The faint sounds of their liveliness continue in the distance as you and Jungkook chose a calmer spot further down. “Yours is called Love Potion.” He makes a point. “What the hell is that?” “This is what keeps you wrapped around my finger.” “Oh-ho, is that right?” You both laugh and he moves in to press his lips against yours, tasting the sweet white chocolate mixed with the tart raspberry flavour lining your lips. He hovers close by after. “Mm you’re right, that is good.”  The mischievous glimmer in his eyes heats up your face. You never get tired of this feeling ⎼ of wanting to be with him, even when he’s this close to you. You wonder if this is what having a soulmate feels like. Is he your soulmate? It’s the first time anyone has ever made you question that. And it’s amusing to you how the thought pops up on a random Thursday night, sitting on a random bench by the road. Jungkook’s elbow nudges you gently, “What’s wrong?” Shaking your head, you break into a sheepish smile and feign interest in your ice-cream, swirling the melted parts around in the cup. Jungkook hasn’t seen that smile since the early days of your relationship. “Nothing.” He brings a napkin to your mouth, wiping off residual ice cream. And again, you feel that warmth, wishing he would stop staring already. But at the same time, wanting him to always look at you this way. It’s an hour after the time Jungkook had promised Jaemin to be back. Hand in hand, you walk back to the apartment building, and your smile lights up the night as you go on and on about something he’s only half paying attention to. The longer he looks at you, the heavier his heart gets. The guilt eating away his insides feels like it's about to let everything spew out of him. You’ve been the happiest he’s seen you in forever, and he knows what he’s about to tell you will erase it all away. Your hair dances in the wind and Jungkook watches your back while you look out at the view from a rooftop garden of a nearby subway station, taking yet another detour, and causing an influx of texts from Jaemin who’s tracking his location. Jungkook ignores them. “You really like it up here, huh?” He asks, and you turn with a smile. “It’s nice.” You say, turning back, admiring the pretty infrastructure. “Crazy to think living like this is normal for some people.” “Yeah.” His voice, suddenly appearing much closer, followed by his presence right by your side. Jungkook tries to focus on the lights, how the traffic almost looks like it moves in a rhythm. But his attention drifts back to you. Your chin rests on the back of your palm as you lean against the railing, eyes sparkling as you take it all in. “I’m gonna miss this when we finally get out of this city.” You chuckle, expecting him to join in and make a joke about living here forever under Namjoon’s tab. But it’s quiet on his end. His eyes seem to convey an emotion you don’t think you want to pull the thread on. “You look like you have a lot on your mind.” Jungkook smiles briefly, his light dimming almost as quickly as it appeared. “We have to talk.”

A loaded darkness wraps around his words, and it causes your heart to flip in your chest. It’s an odd feeling you thought you’d forgotten, but with it follows memories of the last year. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” You watch him swallow the lump in his throat. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I couldn’t find the right time.” “Does this have anything to do with your meetings with Namjoon?” Jungkook nods. “It’s about the case.” “Still? I thought it’s all over.” His fingers dance around yours, as if afraid to make contact. “It is. But…” Your eyes float between his, trying to decipher what’s going on. Inside, you’re bracing yourself for bad news; were they wrong about Kim? Hongjun? Were they alive after all? Has someone escaped from custody? Would someone try to kill you again? Mirroring his nervousness, you wrap your hand around his fingers, “Tell me.” “I’m leaving.” He spits those two words out like it pains him, shutting his eyes right after as he reads the confusion on your face. Your mouth parts as you try to filter out the million questions racing through your mind. “You’re leaving?” You shake your head and a nervous chuckle leaves your chest. “What does that mean? Like…you’re leaving me? Or? You’re leaving the city?” Eyes fluttering open, the distress is evident in his eyes now more than ever. He clears his throat. “I’m leaving the country. Till the case is settled.” “What? The case is settled.” You feel the rush of the blood through your veins. “Right? It’s settled. People were arrested, Kim is dead, Hongjun is dead, they’re all gone so, so, so why⎼” He squeezes your hand and you take a breath. “Not everyone was caught, that would be impossible with how big the organisation was. But yes, our biggest threats are gone for good. But it doesn’t mean I’m totally safe. They’re relocating me till the trial, which could take months at minimum, even years⎼” “Years?” Your voice cracks. “What are you saying? You’re gonna be away…for years?” Jungkook’s face twists in pain. Perhaps he had gone about this the wrong way, he should’ve brought it up gradually, gently. It would’ve been too much for anyone to handle. “You’re not serious.” You say, stilling the air around you. “Wait, is this why you’ve been meeting up with Namjoon so much?” Many different emotions course through your body, your mind finding it difficult to pinpoint what exactly you’re feeling. But it’s right there in the pit of your stomach, bubbling its way up to your chest. First it’s distraught, heart breaking into pieces at the thought of him having to leave, but then it morphs into something else entirely. Why had he kept this from you for so long? There were so many chances he had to break it to you. Your breathing gets erratic with anger. “When did you find out?”

“A couple of weeks ago…” His voice is soft, but you can’t tell if it’s because he’s lost his confidence or if it’s your hearing being overshadowed by the thumping of your heart. “And you kept this from me all this while?” You step back, slipping your hand away. “I didn’t know how to break it to you. I didn’t want to hurt you after everything that’s happened.” “And how do you think I feel now?” The words feel like a gigantic slap against his cheek, and Jungkook stands there out of words, feet frozen to his spot. As if watching his entire world crashing down in front of him, he stands there while you inch away, anguish swallowing you whole. “Wait,” he voice comes out hoarse, “please.” “No, I…” You flinch to stop the tears from dropping, and the sight kills him. You hold on to the railing as your world starts to spin. Looking at Jungkook only made it worse. “I need to go.” Despite your vision blurring from the tears, you don’t stop, even when you hear him call out to you. Only with your back turned to him do they wet your cheeks, and you wipe them away hastily, trying to get as far away as possible. The shrubs surrounding the dimly lit pathway feel like they’re closing in on you and you pick up speed, eventually running out of there towards the exit. 

 ⎼

The resentment on your face was something he hadn’t expected. He knew you’d be devastated ⎼ he was prepared for that ⎼ but he hadn’t anticipated that you’d be mad at him. Enough to leave him there to bask in his own guilt. It takes a minute to process before he comes to his senses. The fog clouding his mind clears up, his hearing comes back and his feet finally move. What the fuck am I doing? He blasts himself, questioning why he didn’t start running the moment you turned your back to him. You’re no longer in sight, disappearing in the direction of the exit towards the subway. He runs as fast as he can, bursting through the doors and down the steps. “Y/N!” Only the empty stairwell hears his desperation. Please. Three floors down, he finds the exit to the subway, opening up to a long corridor, an exit to the road on the right and subway on the left. A handful of people walking by stare at him as he runs out the door. He pulls his hat down and sprints towards the station platform. A high-pitched sound comes from the platform as the train pulls in and comes to a stop. Jungkook jumps over the gantry, and scans the area, looking past several others there to catch the last train. He walks down the length of the train, occasionally bumping into alighting passengers. The lights on the doors light up, signalling it’s ready to shut, and Jungkook runs down the platform, zooming past the cabins while his eyes continue to survey inside. The closer he gets to the end, the harder despair sinks into his chest. Slowing down, a jingle plays as the doors finally shut and seconds later the train picks up speed, metal rattling against the tracks as it leaves the station. Jungkook pants, resting his arms on his head as he takes one last look around. No one. He leaves the empty station and stands by the roadside, taking a deep breath to calm his still racing heart. The silence of the night bothers him, a reminder of the fact that you’re gone. He let you go, heartbroken and hurt. And he’s alone again. 

⎼

Sunlight peeks through the curtains, piercing your dull room with its bright orange glow. Outside, the hum of cars driving past and the chatter of kids walking to school can be heard. You barely slept a wink, and the pillow beneath you lies damp with fallen tears. Pushing yourself up, you trot outside to make yourself a cup of tea. The ruckus brings Hana out of her room, face easing into a smile when she sees you. “Oh hey,” she says, “what are you doing here?” Messy hair, crumpled clothing, and the moment your red, tired eyes meet hers, it was evident something’s wrong. Her face falls, and she’s over by your side within seconds. As her hand touches your arm, you break down, finding comfort in her arms. She runs her hand over your head as your tears wet the fabric on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?” “Jungkook…” you mutter between sobs. 

⎼

“What the hell.” Namjoon barges through the door and sees a deflated Jungkook with his head down on the dining table, Jaemin sitting next to him. “What happened?” “Everything’s fine, sir.” Jaemin stands, holding his palm out. “I got a ping alerting me that you almost left the city.” Namjoon directs his frustration to Jungkook who still hasn’t graced him with so much as a look. “We had a deal, Jungkook. You said you wanted some freedom while you still have time here. And I agreed on the condition that you wouldn’t cause a ruckus or try to take off without telling anyone.” No response. Jaemin glances at Jungkook, then turns back to Namjoon. “I’ve checked cctv footage from last night, he wasn’t exposed, nothing putting him at risk of identification.” “We need to get hold of the footage.” Namjoon presses his lips together and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Already put in a request for that.” Jaemin says. “I’ll get to it now.” He grabs his coat and walks up to Namjoon, pausing to whisper, “He’s had a rough night. Go easy on him⎼” “Thank you, agent. You may go.” Once they’re alone, Namjoon pulls up a chair and looks at the miserable boy before him. Dead eyes, red nose, slightly swollen face. “You look terrible.” Jungkook blinks, finally showing signs of life. He lifts his heavy head and rubs his eyes. “I fucked up.” “I take it she didn’t take the news well?” Namjoon asks, knowing the only reason he would end up in this state is if it was anything related to you. “She was…angry.” He says, bewildered. Namjoon tilts his head from side to side, “I would be too if I were her.” “Then she took off, and I stood there like a coward.” He shakes his head. “She couldn’t even look at me…I’m so pathetic.” “Well.” “If you say I told you so I swear to god I’m gonna punch you in the face.” Namjoon presses his lips into a line. Then his features soften, “Give her time. Think about how shocked she must’ve been.” “But I don’t have time.” Jungkook folds his arms and looks off to the side, voice cracking. “In a week, I’ll be gone. This is all I have left with her.” “Do you want me to speak to her?” Jungkook wipes his eyes before turning back to Namjoon. “Do you think that’ll help?” He shrugs. “I could say it was my idea to keep it from her. Protocol or whatever.” “I don’t care what you say, just please bring her back here.” Jungkook says, head dropping to the table once again. Namjoon sighs, “Why didn’t you go after her?” “I did! But she was gone by then.” Jungkook says. “She must’ve got on the train and went back to her place.” “Is that why I got the location warning?” Namjoon checks the notification on his phone, confirming he was at the station. “I’m surprised you didn’t just hop on the train yourself.” “Yeah well, we had an agreement. And I knew I’d be out of chances if I had gotten on. Didn’t even have a ticket or anything, I jumped over the gantry.” “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” Namjoon looks up at him. “But thanks for honouring our agreement. Once Jaemin gets the footage, I’ll deal with it. And I’ll speak to y/n.” “Thanks.” Jungkook cracks a smile, though he doesn’t look any better than before. “Now go wash up or something.” He shoves Jungkook’s head lightly. “You’re so pathetic you got Jaemin feeling bad for you…”

⎼

After a cold shower, you sink into your bed, trying to find some comfort in the cool sheets. But turning on your side, your eyes make contact with the framed photo of the two of you on your bedside table. You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. Hana pads into the room, stopping by your bed and offering you a cup of hot cocoa. Eventually you sit up, accepting the drink and taking small sips. “What’s gonna happen now?” She asks, tilting her head. She’d spent an hour sitting with you on the couch, allowing you to let it all out. The news had come to a shock to her as well, and she’d spent the first ten minutes silently holding you while you sob. “He’s gonna leave.” You shrug, stating it like you’re trying to convince yourself more than her. “There’s nothing I can do.” Hana nods, oddly silent. She sits on your bed in thought, pursing her lips with her arms folded, “So…what are you doing?” “Nothing?” You repeat yourself. “I mean, what are you doing here?” She asks, chuckling like it’s amusing. You’ve yet to realise what’s so funny. “You’re telling me that your boyfriend ⎼ the one you spent the last month grieving so hard for because you didn’t want to believe he was gone  ⎼ has to leave the country soon, and you’re here and not spending whatever time left you have with him?” Her question knocks you so hard off your balance that you sober up. “I⎼ I’m just…he should’ve told me sooner. He knew about it and he hid it from me.” “And that’s important right now?” You felt more judged than you’ve ever felt. “Seriously? Who cares? You want to waste time sulking? Have you thought about how he feels? Having to leave everything behind including his girlfriend, who he loves so much he almost took a bullet for?” “He did take a bullet for me.” You counter, as if that’s the pressing issue here. She raises her brows and tilts her head, the sassiest she’s ever been. “Really.” You take a deep breath. Why are you here? Like you said, there’s nothing you can do about it, so why harp on the fact that he kept this from you? You’re wasting precious time right now. When your eyes dart back to Hana, she smiles, knowing you’ve come to your senses. Getting up to your feet and scrambling for your belongings, you mutter, “You’ve always liked him better, haven’t you?” Her smug look waves you goodbye as you rush out, calling the first person that comes to mind to help you get back to Namjoon’s apartment. 

⎼

Jungkook stares up at the ceiling, not having moved from the couch since noon. When Namjoon comes back after a meeting, he shakes his head at the disinterested Jungkook, who only spares him a single glance before going back to zoning out. “Did you call her yet?” He asks. Namjoon huffs. “I’m sorry, I had work to attend to. Your problems aren’t exactly at the top of my list right now.” “Okay.” Jungkook blinks, turning over to face the inside of the couch. Namjoon runs his hand over his face. To not have a comeback for his sarcasm tells him how bad things are. “Look I know you’re upset but you can’t⎼” His sentence stops halfway when the front door opens, followed by the tune it makes. It gets Jungkook curious and he turns to Namjoon who has his eyes set on the door. He gets up, and eyes go wide when he sees you standing there, smiling sheepishly with Jaemin right behind you. “Y/N?” Jungkook perks up. He gets on his feet with a sudden burst of energy and you run into his open arms, pressing yourself against his chest. “Jungkook. I’m sorry.” You say, tears rolling down despite your eyes squeezed tight. He doesn’t hear a word you say, feeling only the tightness in his chest at the relief that you came back. Namjoon nods to Jaemin and you hear the door close. “Sit down Y/N, I’ll explain everything.” 

⎼

It’s been hours since you returned, and Namjoon and Jaemin have since retreated back to their apartments, giving you some privacy. Namjoon had spent some time explaining the move, but much of the details were redacted, not leaving you with a lot. Mostly because the information was classified. “Is this really necessary?” You ask. “Yes.” Namjoon says firmly. “In exchange for his cooperation, we’re offering him protection. Right now, as far as anyone knows, Jungkook or “Ace”, is being held at an out-of-state institution. That’s why we’ve had to keep him here since. If anyone knew he was somehow involved in the whole operation, he’d have a target on his back.” “Kim and Hongjun are dead, aren’t they?” “But there are others. And these people may have connections on the outside that we don’t know about.” You look at Jungkook, sitting idly beside you. “Sort of like witness protection.” “Something like that, yeah.” Namjoon agrees. “But we have enough evidence to tie them to the crimes. We don’t need him as an actual witness. But, we still need to play it safe till the trial.” Jungkook squeezes your hand, “It’ll only be a few years.” “Yeah,” you nod, smiling weakly, “I’ll call you every day.” “No.” Namjoon interrupts almost immediately, eyes wide in alarm. “No calls. We’re going no contact.” Your heart sinks even more, mouth agape. “What? But⎼” “That’s how it works; he’ll have a new identity, new job, new background in a new country.” He says, “He’s not going to be Jungkook anymore ⎼ and for security purposes we can’t disclose to you his new identity or where he’s going. As far as you know, Jungkook’s gone. The last time you saw him was the night of the raid.” You take a deep breath, frustration mingling with the grief in your chest. “And when he comes back in a few years? Won’t that be suspicious?” “In a few years selling the idea that he was held in a different state wouldn’t be a problem. He could say he got out early for good behaviour or something.” Namjoon waves his hand vaguely. “We’ll talk about that when the time comes.” In a different country, living under a fake name with little to no contact with anyone he knows here. You lie next to Jungkook, listening to him talk about the move. You keep your feelings in check, knowing how much more anxious he must be. You go quiet and he glances at you, zoned out. Nudging you, he gets on his side and places his palm to your cheek. “Hey. You okay?” “Oh yeah, sorry.” You smile, grabbing his hand. “I just got distracted.” You hate to make him worry, especially now. The one thing you can do for him is to make sure he knows you’ll be okay. “Is it about me leaving?” He asks. You shake your head and he gives you a look. “Liar.” You chuckle, sliding up and leaning against the headboard. “Five more days, right?” He looks at you with a blank stare, hating how casual you are about it. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay with this.” “I’m not.” You shrug, lacing your fingers with his as he slides up and joins you, “But Hana’s right ⎼ there’s no time to mull over how much this sucks.” Jungkook tightens his grip. “I should’ve told you sooner.” “Yeah,” your voice cracks a smidge and you clear your throat, “you’re a dick.” “Sorry.” He kisses the side of your head. “It’s fine,” you say, more so convincing yourself than him, “let’s make the best of the next few days, okay?” Jungkook nods, pressing his head against yours. The air feels heavy with your worries, wearing you down. His arm lays heavy over you as you lay there silently, looking out the window. Behind you, the absence of his snoring tells you he lies awake behind you as well. It’s evident that neither of you are okay with this, but the only thing that you need right now is to sit with those feelings. As uncomfortable as they may be. 

⎼

The next morning, the news plays on the television, reporting on details of the case. Namjoon sits on the couch, paying close attention while Jungkook stays close by as he tidies the house, glancing at the screen every now and then. You tune it out, feeling all sorts of ways every time they bring up a trial. “How’s the media so fast with the info…” Namjoon mutters to himself, turning the volume down. “You’re probably not the only one with an informant,” Jungkook says mindlessly and he scoffs. “So, you ready?” Jungkook stops wiping the table down and stares at him. Namjoon goes back and forth between you two, picking up on the awkwardness. “No?” “Does it matter?” Jungkook shrugs. Namjoon’s shoulders drop slightly. “I know this is hard on you, but it’s the best case scenario.” “I get that.” Jungkook says, going back to cleaning. Avoiding further eye contact with Namjoon, the older man looks to you, and you shake your head, signalling him to leave it be. “Alright, I’m gonna go. And I’ll be back in the evening with your guests.” He says, nodding to you with a smile. You bid him goodbye as he leaves. Minutes later, Jungkook abandoned his chore, choosing to sit on the high stool of the counter, watching as you work on a batch of brownie batter. You smile up at him when you notice how intensely he’s staring. He then moves from his seat, coming up behind you, resting his head on your head and arms around your waist. “Chill, I’m not running away again anytime soon.” You joke, and he smiles. The two of you found the whole thing rather amusing after talking it out. But at the back of your minds, the pressing reality haunts the both of you. Your laughters drown out the anxiety of what’s to come. “Sure you’re not mad at me still?” He asks, peeking down. “Folding that batter rather harshly.” “Positive.” You say firmly. “Maybe a little…” He peppers kisses on your cheeks, squishing your face between his fingers and forcing you to drop the spatula into the bowl. “Better?” Your cheeks hurt from smiling wide. He traps you between his body and the counter, and you look up at him smiling down. “I love you.” You blurt out, and his smile drops for a moment. “I love you too.” He whispers, looking down. “I’m sorry. I wish…it could be different…” “Hey,” you stop him, bringing his eyes back to you, “we said we wouldn’t do that…” A solemn smile appears on his face. He nods at your words. “Yeah, you’re right.” It hurts to see him so miserable, perhaps even more miserable than you are on the inside. But harping on what can’t be changed is fruitless. The time you have left can be spent cherishing whatever you have now. “Now, why don’t you start preparing what we need for tonight?” You change the subject and bring him back to the present. It works in the moment, when you notice his face eases up, and he gets to work, opening up the cabinets to fish out the dinnerware. While he gets to work, you glance at him occasionally, wondering how he managed to keep up a front the last week you’ve been together, knowing he’d eventually have to leave. He looks up and smiles at you, and you feel a tug at your heartstrings, knowing you won’t be seeing that for a long time.

⎼

The mirror has seen Jungkook more than you have the entire afternoon. He puts on a simple blue sweater you picked and paired it with black jeans, getting a weird feeling in his tummy when he thinks about the dinner. Even though he denies it, you know he’s excited, jittery even, to see his friends again. While he waits, Jungkook practises his smile, then physically cringes at how ridiculous he’s being. Luckily you’re not here to laugh at him. You’d left a while ago, waiting for Namjoon and the others at the basement carpark. Jungkook flops down on the bed, trying to stop his heart from beating so fast. Meanwhile, downstairs, you stand near the entrance of the basement ready to greet the two black SUVs as they arrive. The first one opens up to a beaming Hana, excitement showing in her demeanour. If Namjoon had been in the car, he definitely would’ve figured out that she knows. Ten minutes later, Hoseok and Jimin’s car arrive and you see Jimin immediately darting towards you, going in for a hug. “Where’ve you been, stranger?” He asks, squeezing you. “Here and there.” You say, leaning into him. Catching up behind him, Hoseok offers you a warm smile, relieved to see you in good spirits. Once you pull away from Jimin, he steps forward. “First of all, I’m sorry about last time. We were jerks. I was a jerk.” You wave it off. “Don’t worry about that. I’m good now.” “Really?” He raises a brow, casting a doubtful look at your switch up. He finds it strange when you extend your arm to give him a hug as well, but doesn’t oppose. Namjoon shows up from behind, ushering everyone to the lift lobby. Everyone is quiet, paying close attention as he scans his biometrics, waiting for a green flash to appear before pressing the button to his floor. You giggle at their awed expressions. “I’ve missed you,” Jimin nudges you, “you’re okay?” “Of course she is,” Hana chimes in just as the elevator stops, opening up to the corridor. Namjoon leads the way, once again using his biometrics to unlock the door. “Look at this place. I bet it has a great⎼” “The view…” Jimin continues, pushing past you and Hana and going straight for the high windows. The other two join him and they gawk at the skyline, completely ignoring the nice table set up you and Jungkook had worked on. Hoseok shakes his head. “I always knew you were rich but you’re actually rich rich.” “Oh come on,” Namjoon scoffs, “this place technically belongs to my company.” “Still,” Hana shrugs, “no wonder y/n wouldn’t go back home.” She winks your way and you widen your eyes, trying to control the huge grin. Namjoon then takes it upon himself to hand out champagne glasses, “Here you go guys…thanks for coming over tonight. I really wanted everyone to be able to come together after…all that’s happened.” Everyone stands to face Namjoon as he speaks. Without realising, their glasses start to fill, starting with Hana. She turns to the server, about to relay her thanks, not thinking much about the fact that maybe Namjoon had a butler whose presence she had missed. But she goes for a double take, before words can even be said, and the man shoots her a charming wink before moving ahead. Hoseok’s glass is next.

“Congrats on the successful case.” Hoseok says, angling his glass to allow for a better flow. But he’s much too focused on Namjoon to notice anything. “I can finally stop pretending not to know you.” “Yeah, you killed it.” Jimin chimes in. “You don’t even know who he is.” Hana raises a brow at him. “I’ve seen him around okay?” Jimin mutters, watching the liquid fill his glass. He glances at the server and smiles, raising his glass. “Cheers. Thanks Jungkook.” Your smile grows wider as you watch Jimin freeze just an inch away from the glass touching his lips. Hoseok snaps his head to the man behind him, mouth parting and unable to tear his eyes away from the sight that he doesn’t even think is real. Jimin spins around, carefully studying the person standing an arm’s length away from him. Jungkook notices the twist of his face, one he always makes when he’s emotional. “Jungkook!” In his excitement, red wine spills all over the floor as he jumps towards Jungkook, holding him tight. Welcoming the embrace, Jungkook’s smile reaches his eyes and he lets his head drop to Jimin’s shoulder. “Hey, Jimin. Long time no see.” “Jeon Jungook, what the hell.” Hoseok mutters unbelievably. He turns to Namjoon for confirmation, as if the person he’s looking at might just be a figment of his imagination. Even as Jimin pulls away, collecting himself, Hoseok finds it hard to believe that it’s the same Jungkook he’d spent weeks checking hospitals for, the Jungkook he thought had fled somewhere far away. He’d gone through many different scenarios in his head, of when he would somehow see Jungkook again, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. Staring at him wide-eyed, almost as nervous as he is, Jungkook clears his throat. “Hi, hyung.”

⎼

Under the table, Jungkook’s hand finds solace in yours, squeezing every time the nerves get to him. He doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, but as soon as he sees your reassuring smile, he relaxes. You turn your palm over, letting your fingers lace together with his. Everyone’s impatience forced Namjoon to retell the story over dinner; how the plan came about and where Jungkook fit into all of it. As absorbed as you were the first time, everyone eats silently while Namjoon goes on. Seeing how Jungkook has barely touched his food, you lean in to whisper, “You okay?” Jungkook sneaks a glance at the others, all focused on Namjoon, “I feel weird.” He admits. His sweaty palms are a testament to that, as well as eyes that shy away from the others. “You’re doing fine. Just be yourself.” Jungkook nods, swallowing the lump in his throat as he tries to figure out how to do that. What does being himself mean? He’d always been himself around them, but that was his old self. Just as he’s getting lost in his thoughts, he feels the weight of three pairs of eyes turn to him. “I can’t believe you were his informant the entire time,” Hana says, “You played the role so well, I thought ya’ll couldn’t stand each other.” “Oh that wasn’t acting.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I actually can’t stand him.” Already anticipating such a response, Namjoon’s eyes roll as far back as they can go. Heart thumping at his first comment out loud, Jungkook sucks in a breath to calm himself. You give him a squeeze of his hand to let him know he did good. “And you never figured it out?” Jimin asks, side eyeing you. You punch him lightly and he pouts. “Hey, no one knew. You’re his best friend and you didn’t figure it out either.” “How did you do it?” Hoseok asks, and there’s a moment of awkwardness as everyone waits for Jungkook’s reply. “Must’ve been lonely…not having anyone to talk to about it with.” He takes a while to think, huffing a small laugh as he plays with the cut up meat on his plate. “It wasn’t easy…I had to keep lying to people. Which made things a lot more complicated because the lies kept coming back to bite me.” Everyone takes a moment, realising it’s the first time they’ve ever heard Jungkook speak so vulnerably. It’s new to him too, only ever being comfortable to open up around you. And Suga. “Probably didn’t help that someone kept meddling,” Namjoon says, breaking the tension. His eyes hook right on to yours, “Even after getting a warning. Multiple warnings in fact.” “I’m very passionate about my loved ones.” You stick your nose proudly in the air, earning a scowl from Namjoon. “Did you know?” Hana asks, avoiding your stare. “We went through such lengths to keep things from you.” Jungkook glances at you, smiling. “I had no idea. I just thought she was obsessed.” Your jaw drops as a round of laughs make its way through the table and Jungkook grins. He pulls you close to his side, squishing your cheeks. “I’m kidding.” He says. “I knew you were a meddler but I didn’t think it went that far.” “Yeah, you were basically running your own operation while we ran ours.” Namjoon shakes his head and you throw a broccoli his way, hitting him right on the forehead. He sits back in his chair, jutting his chin out with restrained annoyance as Jimin and Hana snicker across from him. Next to Namjoon, Hoseok watches on with a smile while you go back and forth, still finding it odd to be sitting on the same table as his friend and everyone else, especially Jungook. He sneaks a glance in Jungkook’s direction, only to find him already staring. Taken by surprise at the sudden eye contact, Jungkook blinks rapidly before finding interest in his food. You manage to catch the tiniest look of endearment on Hoseok’s face as he’s looking at Jungkook. His eyes then drift over to yours, eyes crinkling into a smile, which you return. Hoseok’s heart thumps in his chest, seeing the most genuine smile he’s ever seen from you. 

⎼

After some persuading, Namjoon agreed to bring everyone up to the rooftop, where Jungkook and you often frequent. You were too excited to be able to share the view with your friends, hooking your arm around theirs, immediately dragging them past the pool towards the rooftop garden. Strolling behind, Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook walk at a steady pace. Jungkook walks a couple of steps behind the other two, snorting when he hears your voice in the distance, blabbering about something. Namjoon glances back, then bumps his elbow against his friend. Hoseok looks at him curiously, and Namjoon nods towards the back, and as Hoseok’s eyes dart to Jungkook, awkwardness wraps around his entire being. With a curt nod, Namjoon gets ahead, catching up with everyone else, leaving Hoseok and Jungkook alone for the first time tonight. In an effort to be the bigger person, Hoseok slows down to match his steps with Jungkook. They make eye contact the moment they walk side by side, and both huff out an awkward chuckle. “Sorry I’m just feeling a little…” “Awkward?” Jungkook finishes his sentence and they both laugh, then fall quiet again. “Feels weird when we’re not arguing over something.” Hoseok huffs, smiling as he nods in agreement. “How’ve you been?” “Okay I guess.” Jungkook shrugs. “You?” “Good.” Hoseok takes a breath. “It’s good to see you again.” Jungkook gets a weird feeling in his chest, something he hasn’t felt since he was a child. Faint memories of his family come back to him for some reason. “I thought you escaped somehow.” Hoseok says as they settle on the daybeds by the pool. He sits facing Jungkook, noticing his eyes drifting off to where you are, standing by the railing overlooking the view with the others. “She had a feeling you were still around though. We didn’t believe her.” “She’s always right.” Jungkook chuckles and so does Hoseok. “But I don’t blame you. Classic me move, right? Running away every time there’s a problem.” Hoseok’s smile drops. Seemingly unbothered by his own comment, Jungkook stretches his leg out in front of him, patting his palms on his thighs. All the times he’s criticised Jungkook comes to mind, wondering how much Jungkook must have internalised for him to be okay saying such things about himself. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.” Unsure if he had heard right, Jungkook’s stares at him wide-eyed. “What did you say?” “I’m really sorry,” Hoseok repeats, shaking his guilt-ridden head. “I’ve spent many nights thinking about how badly I treated you. It was horrible…” Jungkook smiles. “It’s okay.” “No, don’t say that.” Hoseok sighs. “Don’t let me off the hook so easily. I was always criticising you and telling you what to do, judging you when I didn’t even know you at all. You were right when you said I had a saviour complex. I kept saying that I was doing all that because I cared ⎼ and I did, I still do ⎼ but I went about it the wrong way.” “I should’ve sat down with you and tried to understand you. Then maybe I could’ve given you real advice. But instead I just ordered you around.” “I mean, I wasn’t the easiest to talk to.” Jungkook rubs the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “And a lot of what you said was true, I just didn’t want to hear it.” “It's hard to hear over someone constantly berating you.” Hoseok says. “At some point I even turned on you and let my feelings for y/n get in the way. Wasn’t till she told me off one day that it really hit me…you should’ve just socked me in the face.” “Trust me, I thought about that a lot.” Jungkook admits, laughing. “I’m kidding. Not gonna lie, you were annoying. But now that I can think clearly, looking back, I can see you meant well. Back then I had so many things on my mind, and your constant lectures were just something I couldn’t deal with. Which is why I was so defensive.” “You did have a lot going on…I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Hoseok offers an apologetic smile. “All that time you were actually in on the case with Namjoon.” “To be fair, before that I was just a menace.” Jungkook chuckles, and Hoseok realises he’s never been able to sit with Jungkook like this, hearing him laugh about silly things. “When I got involved, I had to bite my tongue from letting it slip every time we fought. I wanted so badly to tell you I’m trying, I’m trying to change.” It makes Hoseok emotional hearing that; it was all he ever wanted, for Jungkook to be a better person. Yet when it was happening, he didn’t even realise it. Regret seeps through his entire being. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” It’s something Jungkook can smile about now, though he remembers the frustration at the time. “It’s all good now. Water under the bridge.” Almost as if he doesn’t recognise the person in front of him, Hoseok tilts his head slightly, admiring Jungkook. The rude, indifferent boy no longer present, replaced with a level-headed version of him; mature yet surrounded by a youthful aura. “In the end, you did the right thing though. And all on your own.” Hoseok grins, “I’m proud of you.” The four words echo through Jungkook’s head and he looks away, feeling that ache in his chest again. What follows is an odd sensation of relief washing over him. The mix of emotions confuse him, and perhaps it’s because he never truly allowed himself to have such moments; the only ever person he would let himself be open with was with you. And now, he sits here, blinking away tears. Jungkook clears his throat. “I um…I wanted to thank you.” “For what?” “Just…” Jungkook shrugs, “I know that it was you who got Namjoon involved in the first place⎼” “I’m sorry for that too,” Hoseok buries his head in his hands, “I didn’t think things would get so serious. I thought it would be a simple crackdown and you’d be free. But this⎼ I didn’t⎼” “I know,” Jungkook says gently, “Namjoon told me everything. But also…for always being there for y/n. You care a lot about her and I appreciate it, you’ve always looked out for her. And I hope you can continue to do that.” Something about the way Jungkook said it made Hoseok feel uneasy. His tone had been ominous and loaded, there was definitely more to it. But before Hoseok has a chance to question it, Jungkook’s attention rips away from him and he straightens up happily, eyes hooked on to your approaching figure.

“Hey.” You plop down right next to him, “What are you two talking about?” “Stuff.” Jungkook says, stretching his arm out over your shoulders. Hoseok nods, “Stuff.” “Fascinating.” You say bluntly, then turn to Hoseok. “Have you seen the view? It’s ⎼” “We were actually just talking about how stubborn you are.” Jungkook cuts you off, winking at the man across from him. “Yeah,” Hoseok huffs out, puffing his cheeks and his head sways side to side, “remember when she made a deal with Hongjun and got herself in trouble?” “Oh yeah, how could I forget.” Jungkook sighs. “Can you imagine? Putting herself at risk like that.” Their heads spin to you, gauging your reaction. Just as they thought, you sit there with your arms folded, forehead creased with annoyance. You go back and forth between the two of them. “I don’t like this new dynamic.”

⎼

Jungkook tries to recall the last time his cheeks hurt from smiling too much. Or if he’s ever laughed as much as he has tonight. He’d sink into pockets of awkwardness at times, but it wasn’t hard to get back into the rhythm and pick himself out of that hole. It makes him think about the last few years, and how different life could’ve been and how much he might’ve missed out on. Across the room, you take turns to play a video game Namjoon put on, the four of you screaming every time a character is annihilated. Jungkook opens the fridge and stares mindlessly at the inside for a minute. Namjoon then comes up behind him, shuffling around the kitchen for some snacks. He finds a packet of chips and tears the bag open while his back leans against the counter. Feeling a pair of eyes trained on him, Jungkook looks over his shoulder. “What?” “Ready?” Jungkook turns back around. “For what?” He mumbles as he bends down to grab a can. “To break the news to them.” He says quietly, “Or are you not doing that tonight?” The fridge door shuts a little too hard and Jungkook winces. In front of the television, the other four remain unbothered, eyes glued to the screen. “I don’t want to ruin the night.” Namjoon shrugs. “Although I’m sure they’d want to know sooner than later.” “Weren’t you the one who suggested I tell them on the day I’m leaving?” “Yes,” Namjoon drags the word out, “that is usually how we do it. But I’m willing to close one eye and let you have a choice.” “I don’t even think I can do it.” Jungkook says, looking over at them again. How can he drop the news so casually after tonight? It’s taken months to reveal himself to them, and for them to find out that he was working with Namjoon the whole time, only to then break the news that he has to leave in a matter of days? His shoulder drops when Namjoon places his hand on it. “I could make the announcement for you?” Jungkook gives it a thought. The joy on your face is something he doesn’t want to see gone. If you can put up a brave front despite already knowing, then he can too. Thinking back to the promise he’s made to you, to enjoy the last few days you have with each other, Jungkook makes up his mind. He shakes his head, and Namjoon nods with a smile. Everyone will just have to forgive him once more in the future. 

⎼

Jungkook fluffs the last pillow and sets it back neatly on the couch. Looking around, he exhales in triumph at how he’s managed to tidy up the place back to its original state. The quiet feels strangely odd, now that’s everyone’s gone home, even though it’s all he’s known in the last month. He grabs the trash bags you’d left by the kitchen, and steps outside to dump the last of them down the chute. Just before he makes his way back inside, Jungkook lingers by the doorframe, staring at the elevator where everyone said their goodbyes. “See you soon!” Hoseok said. And Jimin goes on about how he can’t wait for Jungkook to return to the house, thankful that they hadn’t cleared out his room. Jungkook could only smile, knowing he in fact won’t be back. After washing up, you enter the room to find Jungkook on the bed, looking through your phone with a towel around his damp hair. You climb on his back, taking a whiff of his body wash and sighing immediately. Jungkook’s smile stretches wider as he scrolls through the pictures you took tonight. Your chin finds a spot on his shoulder and you let your weight rest on him. “That was a nice night, right?” “Mhm.” He nods and you kiss the side of his face. “I was awkward though.” “But you did so well.” You reassure him, rolling off his back and joining him on your front, shoulder to shoulder with him. “Everyone was so happy to see you.” Jungkook’s heart swells, something he’s still trying to get used to. He passes the phone back to you and gets on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He still thinks about the conversation he had with Hoseok, how for the first time ever, they’ve spoken without getting into a huge fight. “It was so crazy. Hoseok apologised to me, you know?” “Did he?” You lie on your side, head resting on your palm. “Yeah.” Jungkook smiles as he recalls. “It’s weird I got kind of nervous…but also happy.” “That’s cute!” You chuckle. “Deep down you actually do like him, don’t you?” “I guess I do now.” Jungkook thinks back to the old days, when he would roll his eyes at the sight of Hoseok or the whiff of his cologne. “Back then he was insufferable. But tonight…he was kinda cool. Apologising and shit.” “Did you apologise?” Jungkook turns to you confused. “What? Was I supposed to?” “I mean you were pretty mean to him back then.” You say and he frowns deeper. “Remember when you almost got us into a crash?” Jungkook’s face softens when you remind him of that. “Hey…” You laugh at his disappointment in you bringing it up again, though you never actually got to speaking about it since that night. “What? It’s true!” “But you slapped me after.” He says, as a matter-of-factly. “Cause you almost killed us…” You say slowly and, “and then you almost beat him up.” “Well if you hadn’t ran off with him…” You gasp dramatically, getting on your knees to twist his ear. He cries out in pain, but a smile still lingers on his lips. Strong arms hold you in place as you climb on top of him. “I didn’t run off with him! I was running away from you! Because you⎼” He easily plucks your hand away from his ear with the way you back down, slowly remembering the events of the night that led up to his car chase. The image of him holding Hongjun in a headlock appears in your mind.

His playful gaze softens, thumb caressing the back of your palm reassuringly. “That was when you asked me to run off with you, wasn’t it? You were warning me about the operation.” Nodding, it feels silly now knowing he was involved all along. It’s no wonder he was so reluctant to leave. “That was when things started to make sense; your behaviour, the break-up, why you were so adamant on running away with me.” Jungkook chuckles, sitting up to get closer to you. His arms keep you in place on his lap. “Could you tell I was panicking?” “I didn’t realise,” you admit, “I thought you wanted to stay loyal to your friends…it was so frustrating.” He laughs but it’s cut short when he doesn’t see you joining him. Instead, your eyes glaze over, and he loses you in that moment. Only when the back of his fingers gently graze against your cheek do you return, eyes going back and forth between his. 

“You had that same look,” he whispers. You swallow, trying to focus on what he’s saying. “Hm?” “That night, you had the same look on your face.” He repeats, tilting his head when you avert your gaze, “Right before you ran off.” You slide off of him, grabbing a pillow to hug. Jungkook mirrors your movements, crossing his legs and letting your knees touch. When the distress on your face doesn’t go away, he gets nervous, frowning when he realises whatever it is, is bothering you that much. “Is it Hongjun?” He asks carefully, reminded of how anxious you got previously. You wet your dry lips, suddenly feeling warm under his stare. The thought of Hongjun still brings back bad feelings sometimes, but it’s not what Jungkook thinks it is. “Not exactly…” you mutter, stopping before you say more. With all that’s happened, you can’t even remember if you’d asked him about the video. “It’s…you see before that…” you swallow your nerves, “I was⎼ ugh fuck.” “Hey, it’s alright.” Jungkook places his hand over yours. “I don’t want you to get upset…” You say quietly. He reaches under your chin to lift your gaze, gentle eyes greeting you. He smiles. “Tell me.” You take another deep breath, squeezing his hand. “Back then, Hongjun was still contacting me.” Jungkook nods curtly, paying close attention. “Well...he…” His body visibly tenses from the suspense. “Did he do anything to you?” “No,” you shake your head and let your fingers intertwine with his, watching his shoulders relax, “I don’t know where to start…” Jungkook tucks stray hairs away from your face and runs his thumb over your cheek. “From the beginning?” Recalling your contact with Hongjun felt odd, now that he’s gone, and the usual uneasiness in Jungkook’s expression which normally surfaced, no longer an issue. He seems to have internalised that Hongjun would never come back to haunt him. From the first time he’d sourced you out at the cafe, right down to the time he waited for you on campus, Jungkook listens attentively as you explain how Hongjun had wanted you to help him. None of it came as a surprise to Jungkook, it was exactly the kind of person Hongjun was; devious and manipulative. If he had known all this was happening, it would have been over for him. But now that he’s dead, Jungkook finds it regretful only because it caused you so much stress. “He said some things about you and some of the things you did for Kim.” You say. Jungkook nods. “He was manipulating you. He knew you were his best bet in getting me out of the picture.” “The thing is, I knew deep down that’s what it was. But I was also scared…” Your words trail off and he lowers his head to match yours, “Scared of…me?” “Of the things he said you did.” You squeeze your eyes shut but he cups your face and brings it up to his. “I’ve said it before, haven't I? None of it’s true.” “I know that, I believe you.” Jungkook searches your eyes. “But?...” “There was a video. Of you.” He shifts uncomfortably, eyes locked on to yours. “You were in a fight. And it looked like you won, but the other guy…”

Jungkook seems to catch on to what you’re referring to. There’s been many fights he’s been over the years but only a few come to mind at once. And he can’t think of many that anyone would have a video of. If he wasn’t nervous before, now he is. “Wait,” his forehead creases, “he sent you a video of me in this fight?” “Yes.” You breath out shakily. “I didn’t want to believe him when he said you were doing all sorts of terrible things to people because of Kim. He kept trying to convince me that you needed me to save you. So he sent me that video as proof that if I don't help you, it’ll only get worse and worse.” “What did you see?” Staring at him, you hesitate to carry on, but he raises his brows, urging you with a silent promise that it’ll be okay. “There were people cheering and screaming. It was really loud. And I saw you somewhere in the middle of all that, tangled up with someone. He was in a chokehold, in your arms…and then I think he…” Shaking your head, you refuse to go on, averting your eyes to where your hands have balled up the blankets in your fists. “And I know you said you don’t⎼ you’ve never⎼ killed anyone but⎼” “Calm down⎼” “I don’t know what went down that night but I know you would never I know they made you do it, and⎼” “Stop.” “And I’m willing to move past that, I still love you.” Jungkook shuts his eyes and heaves out, dropping his head. For a moment you think he might lose it, or breakdown, something. But the corners of his lips curve up and now he’s looking at you with a tender look in his glossy eyes. “Who are you kidding my love? You’d have sleepless nights if the love of your life killed someone.” “But I’m⎼” “Thankfully he’s not.” The amusement all over his face doesn’t help to convince you. You can’t tell if he’s already accepted a man’s death by his hands or if he’s pushed the memory so far back into his mind, he’s convinced himself it never happened. Both possibilities don’t sound so good. “It’s not funny.” “I know, sorry.” He smiles, taking your hands in his. “I didn’t kill anyone.” “I saw the video, Jungkook. It was a fight to the death, people placed bets on you. You won, he died.” Jungkook nods, “That’s what I thought happened too. I was chosen to fight but he volunteered, I didn’t know the guy, hadn’t seen him before that night. I thought he was one of Barome’s men. Trust me…you have no idea how I felt after the fight, thinking I’d killed him.” “Wait, so…” “He’s not dead.”

As simple as they are, the words would not process in your head. It just made no sense. “Wha⎼ How? Are you sure?” “Namjoon said so.” Jungkook says. “That guy might have been undercover too. He didn’t go into too much detail but I’m guessing they figured out a way to make it look like he was dead for real. Wouldn’t be too hard considering everyone was pretty much high or wasted that night. I wish he’d told me cause I was inconsolable after.” “I don’t even remember the fight or what led up to it. Someone must’ve slipped me something. But I would never kill anyone, only knock them out cold. I don’t even know how to kill someone like that. So when I found out what happened…it was like a nightmare.” “Oh gosh…” your stomach twists, “I shouldn’t have believed Hongjun…” “I don’t blame you.” Jungkook smiles reassuringly. “I believed it myself. He really wanted you to get me out of the picture huh?” “Yeah, and it worked.” You smile sheepishly. “That’s why I was so flustered that night. I made excuses for it…like maybe you were forced to do it or something. But then when Hongjun showed up and I saw you hold him in a chokehold till he passed out…” “It reminded you of the video.” Nodding as your heart starts to fill with relief, pushing away any thoughts you had before, you crawl into his arms and he hugs you tight. “That’s why I wanted us to run away together. I thought I was saving you. Sorry.” “Don’t be. I know Hongjun and this is exactly the type of shit he’d pull.” Jungkook sighs. “I was stupid to even take up his offer.” You say, pulling away and rolling off face down into a pillow. Jungkook’s palm lands on your ass, and you let out a yelp, turning to scowl at him. Chuckling, he rolls you back to your front, sliding on his side to rest next to you. “You literally never listen.” With a roll of your eyes, you playfully slap him. He cups the side of his affected cheek and gasps. “Another slap.” “A loving one.” Jungkook leans in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, one that has your body melting into the mattress. Pulling away far too quickly, he chuckles at your half-lidded eyes, feeling the exhaustion catching up to himself after all the excitement of the day. You get comfy under the covers as he turns the lights off and pulls the curtains back, allowing the brightness of the city to illuminate the room instead. Ignoring the space you made next to you, he climbs on top and rests his weight on you, melting your bodies together. You hum out a sigh. “Heavy.” 

His body shakes with giggles, head nestled nicely between your bosoms. “But comfy.” Your body eventually adjusts to it, muscles relaxing beneath him, and fatigue slowly creeping over you. Fingers trace his scalp, easing him to closed eyes. “Thanks for coming back.” His voice fills the silence of the night. With no response, he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep, hands no longer stroking his head. But then they slide lower, rubbing his back soothingly. “Sorry for getting mad.” “Sorry for keeping it a secret.” “Sorry for conspiring with Hongjun.” Jungkook laughs, lifting his head. “Okay how far back are we gonna take this?” “I don’t know,” you grin and even in the dark he can’t stop staring, “but I am sorry.” “It’s not your fault.” He says, “Hongjun’s a master manipulator. He was just using you. Which is why I said not to engage with him.” “Like you said, it’s not my fault.” You shrug and he laughs unbelievably. Sliding up to meet his face with yours, the tip of his nose gently grazes yours. “I adore you, you know that?” His hot breath tickles, and a finger grazes over your face. “I know,” his head drops to your shoulder and you slap his back, “Jaemin told me you cried all night.” “I’m literally gonna wring his neck the next time I see him.” “Don’t be mean!” You say, “I like him. He’s nice.” Jungkook leans in closer, moving in to kiss you fervently. 

⎼

In the middle of the night, your eyes peel open after drifting out of a blank dream, leaving you dissatisfied and tossing over to find a more comfortable position. Turning to the other side, your arm stretches out to reach for something to cling to. But it falls to the bed much to your disappointment. In place of Jungkook, his lived-in spot and a tossed over blanket remain. No sounds appear to come from the bathroom, so you slip out the door which was left slightly ajar. And standing in front of the windows, you see his lonesome figure, staring outside. Sleep hasn’t been an issue ever since you came, but you know some nights still give him trouble. “Jungkook?” Trotting over to where he is, you drag your slippers against the floor. He must have heard you, but he remains still as a statue. “Nightmares again?” Only a soft sniffle can be heard in the silence. And as you come up to his side, illuminated by the city lights, you see tears streaming down his face, tired and strained eyes avoiding you. A wave of panic rushes through your body and you cup his face, feeling its warmth spreading to your hands. “What’s wrong?” Jungkook shakes his head, turning away. But you persist, pulling him back to face you. Words struggle to leave him and you can only wrap around him, holding him tight as whispering soft words of comfort. His head slowly drops, tears dampening the clothes on your shoulder. As if scared to make a sound, Jungkook continues to cry silently, sniffing every now and then. His arms hold on to you so tight you can feel the beating of his heart against your body. Wishing you knew what’s going on in that head of his, you run a soothing hand down his back, waiting for him to calm down before trying to pull away. A while passes and you almost doze off yourself, resting against the couch. At some point, he had let up enough for you to tug him there, where he found comfort in your lap. The sobbing slows down, and you take a peek, finding him still awake and staring at the blank screen ahead. “You okay?”

He nods, cheek brushing against your thigh. “Talk to me.” You say gently, giving him time to gather himself. “It keeps coming back to me,” he says, shifting his body so that he lays on his back, looking up at you, “every time I close my eyes I see him, lying there on the ground…” “Who?” “Kim.” It comes out in a whisper, and he shuts his eyes like it pains him. After all this time, you still don’t know what happened that night. The news had reported a cardiac arrest at the time of confrontation, but you know it’s not the full story, because they weren’t there either. Only Jungkook, Namjoon, Seokjin and Kim would know what actually happened then. 

You rub a thumb over his damp and sore cheek. He sniffles. “I close my eyes and I see him,” he repeats, struggling to continue, “I had to choose…between him…and…”With a hand over his chest, you feel the shakiness in his breath. He winces at the pain he feels inside. “Take your time.” You say softly. “I pointed the gun at him.” Jungkook continues with a strained voice. He sits up, feeling suffocated. “And the look on his face…I⎼ He was so disappointed, I know he was.” “Even after what happened at the club…he still trusted me y/n…” Jungkook says, “And I let him down. I betrayed him after everything he’s done for me. The moment he knew I wasn’t on his side, he⎼” Warm tears stream down his face faster than you can wipe them away. “His heart just stopped,” Jungkook says, with an empty look in his eyes. “It just stopped. Because of me. I killed him. He’s dead because of me.” Tears well up in your own eyes, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach at the sight of Jungkook so broken. Devastated by how he’s blaming himself for Kim’s death, you hush him. “Don’t say that.” “His last words to me were that he trusted me.” Jungkook whispers, hanging his head low. Embracing him, he’s much gentler this time, letting his chin rest on your shoulder. For so long, this has been bothering him with no one to talk to. So much so that it ended up eating him alive. Every night since Kim died, Jungkook has had the same recurring nightmare, one where he’s forced to remember Kim’s last moments, on the ground in that alley where he had revealed his alliance with Namjoon. Even if he did manage to get through the night, he would never feel fully rested. Kim’s death weighs heavy in his chest. He considers himself to blame, and no one can convince him otherwise. He was there that night, and nothing can change how it all happened, even if he so desperately wishes for things to have ended differently. “I’m so sorry.” You whisper, wishing you could absorb all the pain and let it consume you instead. “I didn’t know.” “That was the last time I saw him.” Jungkook says. “I still remember how cold his hand was against mine. He smiled at me, told me he trusted me. He left the company to me. To Suga.” Suga. Somehow you had forgotten about him. But you were also conscious of how Jungkook hadn’t uttered his name since, and figured it isn’t something he wants to talk about especially after the revelation of Jungkook as Namjoon’s informant. “And Suga…I let him down.” Jungkook sniffs. “I let him down. He saw the whole thing. The betrayal, Kim falling after.” Your heart beats wildly in your chest. What Mia told you before suddenly comes to mind; someone spotting Suga in this exact part of the city. It might be a coincidence, and it might not even be him, but you decide not to tell Jungkook yet. Knowing there’s nothing much you can say to snap him out of it, you comfort him in the only way you know how. Your presence keeps him grounded, and a tiny piece of the burden he’s been carrying lifts off his shoulders. Weariness overcomes Jungkook and his eyelids fight a losing battle. Not wanting to ruin his chances of getting some rest, you continue to rub his back, whispering words of comfort, and the two of you stay on the couch for the rest of the night with Jungkook snoring lightly next to you. His arm lies limp over your middle and you lay awake, staring at the ceiling as your thoughts cloud your mind. 

⎼

“What about winter coats?” You flash your screen to show him one you found online. His nose scrunches up. “Don’t know if I’ll need it there.” “Which is where…” You zip your lip when he raises a brow at you, shaking his head. “You know I can’t tell you.” He stops, eyes darting around. “Wait, I don’t even know where I’m going.” Jungkook looks down at the open luggage by his feet, going over a list in his head. It’s filled with the necessities; basic clothing, toiletries, and some snacks stashed under everything. You lie on your front, chin resting on your folded arms on the edge of the bed. “Thinking so hard as if you have that much stuff to begin with…” He looks at you amused. Every time he starts packing, you get huffy and sulky, a habit of yours whenever he tries to leave after staying over. “I would stash you in here if I could but explosives are prohibited.” Rolling your eyes, you ignore the comment and hop off the bed. In front of the mirror, you fix your hair and check yourself out from each angle. He watches your strange behaviour from where he’s standing, “What are you doing?” “Trying to see if I still got it.” You look at him from the reflection. “After all, I’m about to live life as a single woman again in a matter of days.” Jungkook almost chokes on his own saliva, swiftly turning away from the wardrobe to see if he heard you right. “Excuse me what.” “Oh, Jungkook and I broke up. He got a scholarship overseas and it was too good an offer to turn down. We decided it’s best we focus on our own things for now.” It was the cover you both decided on if ever someone asks about him, but he hates hearing you actually saying it like it’s true. “That’s what I’m supposed to say, right?” “Only if someone asks.” He frowns. “And they will. You were insanely popular, Jungkook.” You say, “I’m just practising.” “For what.” “For when I go to the club,” you sing-song, “when I party at the Omega’s, or maybe one of the hot teaching assistants will hit on me.” You prance around as you list down the places you’d go as a free woman, Jungkook’s sharp eyes locked on you as you move. “No.” He says and you turn to see him already stomping towards you. You back off but he’s too quick and his long legs make for big steps that has you within reach in seconds, and suddenly you find yourself being thrown over his shoulder, a harsh slap landing on your ass. “I don’t like this.” He grunts. With one swoop, he shifts you into his arms and your vision spins from the sudden movement. The next moment, he’s placing you in his luggage, trying his best to fold your body in half just to fit you in whatever space he has left. You laugh as he tickles your sides to stop you from resisting, and the mischievous grin on his face grows larger as he zips up the portion where half your body’s managed to squeeze into. “Let me go!” You yell in a fit of laughter, one of his hands holding on to your wrists and the other aiming for your ticklish spots. “No. I’m taking you with me.” He giggles when you actually stop resisting and try to squeeze the top half of your body and head into whatever space is left. Your silliness clouds the sounds coming from outside, where Jaemin had allowed himself in, initially concerned at the sounds of your screaming. Praying that the two of you weren’t in the middle of some weird and violent foreplay session, he struts towards the room and stands at the door frame, wondering if he should even make himself known. 

Jaemin sighs. “Should I be worried?” The unfamiliar voice startles you, and you let out a shriek that has Jungkook falling backwards. Jaemin shuts his eyes, regretting his decision to stop by. Hand over your chest as you catch your breath, you burst into laughter when you catch Jungkook’s eye. “Why would you do that?” Jungkook asks, unzipping the compartment where half your body rests. “I did nothing.” Jaemin says, eyes full of judgement as you struggle to get yourself off the luggage, managing to do so only with Jungkook’s help. “I came to check if you needed anything. Did you read through the list I handed you?” “Yes,” Jungkook pats the pile of clothes, “only packed the essentials like you noted.” “Good.” He smiles a little, the first time you’ve seen him do that. “Don’t worry about packing too little, we’ll provide you with new clothes and other stuff once we’re there. I just got off a video call with our point person too, the house looks good, everything’s sorted.” “That’s great.” Jungkook lets out a heavy exhale. “Just great.” The shift in Jungkook’s demeanour doesn’t go unnoticed. Jaemin glances at you for a second, “I’m nervous too. It’s my first time in charge of such a big task.” His confession was unexpected but strangely comforting. At least you know Jungkook won’t be alone. You are interested in how these two are going to get along, knowing how hard-headed Jungkook can be. “It’ll be fine.” Jaemin’s confidence lightens Jungkook's mood slightly, a tiny smile creeping its way onto his face. 

⎼

“I’m not getting kidnapped, am I?” You watch the tall buildings slowly disappear, eventually leaving you with the view of clear skies, long roads and lines of cars as you get onto the highway. “Maybe you are.” His fingers squeeze through your fist and interlace with yours. “You’re coming with me.” “As hostage?” You scoff. “This isn’t my first rodeo you know?” Jungkook laughs. “Like I’d ever bring the snitch with me if I were running.” He braces for the punch that lands, though he knows it won’t hurt. Laughing adorably, he stretches his arm over your shoulder to pull you in closer just so he can wipe the pout away with his palm brushing over your face. “Stop it!” “I’m kidding,” he kisses the side of your head, “I’m taking you to meet someone special.” “Someone special?” On his face is a look you’ve never seen before; a mixture of anticipation and delight. Rarely does he ever get excited about anything enough to show it, and being this vulnerable is still something new. When he told you about a short trip, you expected one to the nearest department store to get essentials he might need. But the car gets further and further away from the city, and Jaemin continues on the route, the farthest he’s ever brought you both. After leaving in the morning, breakfast was from a drive-through and the car stopped by the side of a road near a park, allowing you, and Jaemin, to people watch as you eat peacefully. Then it’s off, without so much as a word from the younger man. He seems to know where he’s going though you assume it was entirely Jungkook’s idea based on how excited he is. You’re surprised Namjoon even approved this trip given how there's only two days left till his departure ⎼ something that’s been eating away at you silently. Two hours later, the roads begin to get narrower, and traffic gets slower. More greenery and houses come into view as you see a simple welcome sign by the side of the road as you enter a quaint and pretty town. Going past schools, apartments and houses, Jaemin stops the car at the basement level carpark of a mall. Scanning the surroundings, he stops only when he notices something, before the engine goes off. Turning in his seat, he hands Jungkook what looks like a burner phone. “Call if there’s an emergency. I’m on speed dial.” “You’re not coming with us?” You ask, genuinely surprised that he’s letting you off on your own in a random town.

He eyes Jungkook who beams from ear to ear. “It is a small town. And the threat is low here, so I can let you go for a while.” Apart from the phone, Jungkook is also handed two transport cards and a tracker, much smaller than an electronic tracker you’d see on offenders, just in the form of a sleek black band which he reluctantly hooks above his ankle. “Plus a black SUV driving around would probably stick out more than a couple taking a walk down the street.” Jaemin says, then stretches his neck out to search outside, pointing to an old blue and white Volvo parked on the opposite lot behind the SUV. You notice two figures sitting in the driver and passenger’s seat. “See that? That’s ours. They’ll be driving around town just in case. If there is an emergency and I can’t get there in time, I’ll activate them.” “Alright.” Jungkook says and you nod. “I’d still avoid contact unless absolutely necessary. Y/N, I’m gonna have to ask you to take the lead if need be.” “Sure,” you agree, watching Jungkook put on a mask and a cap. “And Jungkook, remember, this is your home⎼” “I know.” He cuts the man off eagerly and Jaemin takes the hint. “Send me a text when you’re done. I’ll give you instructions on where to go next.” “Got it.” Jungkook says, hand on the handle of the door. His enthusiasm is contagious, like a child on an excursion. Still, he waits for Jaemin to give the okay before practically prancing out, motioning for you to do the same. Hand in hand, you make it up the lift to the first floor of the mall, noticing how much slower and calm everything is. It’s unlike the usual chaos you’d find back in the city, with kids running around, talking loudly over the phone, and the less than friendly looks everyone gives each other. After a short walk, Jungkook stops by a flower shop. He spends a good five minutes looking through the fresh flowers in the fridge, contemplating on the perfect ones while you stroll around. Just as a bunch of tulips catch your eye, Jungkook comes up to you with fresh daisies in hand. “Who are these for?” You ask, complimenting his choice. “For the special person we’re going to see today.” “You still haven’t told me who it is.” He walks ahead towards the cashier and you tag along behind him, pausing as he does, and watching him reach over to grab a single rose stalk. Doe eyes smiling from under the cap, he offers the rose to you. Sheepishly, he turns as you accept it, heading straight for the counter where a young lady waits, having seen the whole interaction. She smiles knowingly, grabbing the flowers and skillfully wrapping them with brown paper. As she sticks the last tape over the bouquet and covers it with a sticker, she glances up curiously. “Are you two new here?” Jungkook’s elbow gently nudges yours. “Oh, no. We’re visiting a friend.” “Oh, how nice.” She says, eyeing Jungkook, who pays the amount in cash. “Well I hope they like the flowers!” “Thanks.” Jungkook says out of courtesy, then sneaking a glance at you when he remembers he’s not supposed to speak to anyone. Thankfully it didn’t matter to the cashier, who goes back to what she was doing prior after wishing you a lovely day. 

Flowers were the only thing on Jungkook’s list, and the two of you then got on a bus just five minutes away from the mall. He only briefly checks the route information before confirming which bus to take. Still having no idea where you’re going, you follow him blindly, trusting that he’ll figure it out. Only two others get on the bus at the same time, a woman in scrubs who takes the seat at the back, resting her head against the window as soon as she gets comfortable, and a young man with headphones on, eyes glued to a game he plays on his phone. Throughout the ride, Jungkook is quiet, completely absorbed into taking in the scenes out the window. The flowers lay in his lap, held so carefully to make sure they don’t get crushed. You watch the way his eyes sometimes fall to the bouquet, and realise how special this person is to him. Who could it be? You wonder. Maybe Suga? But flowers are an odd choice. Unless he’s recovering from something. And why at this random town two hours away? Fifteen minutes later, you reach the stop. Jungkook presses the bell and taps your thigh to signal you to get off. As the bus drives off, it leaves the two of you standing amidst a gust of smoke from the exhaust. Awaiting his next direction, Jungkook slips his hand in yours. Without saying much, he crosses to the other side of the road and takes you on a stroll down the street. At three in the afternoon, the clear, blue sky puts you in a cheerful mood. You don’t even mind the long walk with how picturesque everything looks here. Brown leaves have fallen on the ground lining the pathway, a cool breeze picking up every now and then and the smell of bread being blown in your direction from a nearby bakery. Everyone walks without rushing, and cars drive by without revving their engines or honking. Your arms linked together swing in between your bodies. “It’s just up ahead.” Jungkook informs you. Though you’ve had plenty of time to spend with Jungkook back at the apartment, the change of pace and environment makes everything a hundred times better. What more, Jungkook seems to be in the best mood you’ve seen him since. “Jungkook.” “Hm?” He turns to look at you. “Is this your hometown?” You get your answer when his steps slow down for a second and his interest moves to the cracks in the pavement as you continue to walk. “How’d you know?” “I figured,” you shrug, “Jaemin said something in the car earlier, and you just seem so comfortable here.” He nods, squeezing your hand. “This is where I’m from. Things have changed much but…some things are still the same.” You’re dying to ask more, but his eyes glaze over as he sinks into his own memories of the place, and you can feel the homesickness practically oozing out of his bones. A part of him still feels connected to this place after all this time, even when it’s where he experienced his first and gut-wrenching heartbreak of his life. And ten minutes later, you realise why. It clicks the moment you walk up a small hill with a narrow pathway, lined with shrubbery. Upon reaching the top of the hill, it expands into a gated area where hundreds of graves lie. “Are we…” You trail off as he carries on walking, not letting go of the grip on your hand behind him. The one he’s looking for is further back, passing by rows and rows of others who have left, and a handful of other people who are here to visit. Jungkook eventually comes to a stop and you watch his back as he takes another deep breath. From up the hill, though it’s not much higher than the roads, a nice view of the town greets you, just enough to see the roofs of nearby houses. 

Turning back, you see Jungkook take the first step towards one of the headstones. He stops right by the foot of it, and takes a moment to himself while you stay in your spot. Jungkook takes his cap off and pulls down his mask before kneeling on the ground to lay the flowers. He calls you over with a nod and there’s a tremble in your steps, feeling the jitters in your tummy. The headstone is a little darker than the others around it, but the lack of weeds growing around it tells you it’s cared for in some way. You kneel by Jungkook’s side, reading the carving on the headstone. Jeon Jung-Ah. “This is…” “My sister.” He smiles, teary eyed. While you make yourself comfortable, Jungkook brushes dirt off the stone and picks any stray growth around the area. He spends a long time caring for his sister in the only way he can, while whispering updates about his life to her. He fills her in on what’s happened, about you, and how he has to leave and won’t be able to see her for some time. “It’ll be years before I can come visit you again.” He sighs after, touching the headstone. You watch him from the side with admiration in your eyes, how he’s so soft and gentle while speaking. Jungkook looks at you. “Do you come back often?” You ask. “Only in the last couple of years.” Jungkook admits, knowing it took him far too long to build up the courage to come back. “For so long I’d left this part of me behind. I wanted to forget everything and everyone. But it always made me feel guilty, like I left her behind too.” “One night when I was sick of work, I decided to drive back here. I felt ill stepping back into town, bombarded with all the bad memories of this place, but I just missed her so much. It was right when I was starting to get disconnected with things at work, and Kim and Suga…I needed someone to talk to and she was the only person I wanted to talk to.” “So you ended up here.” He nods, scooting closer so your legs touch. “I can’t remember well but before I ran off I think I only ever visited her once. So I spent all night trying to find her. After all these years, being right here feels like home more than anything else. Even if she is…” The gleam in his eyes disappears, struggling to keep his emotions at bay. Your warm hand reaches for his on his lap, squeezing tight. “She’ll always be with you. In here.” You point to his heart and he chuckles. “Hey. That’s my line.” He blinks the tears away and leans in to plant a kiss on your forehead. He looks at you like he has a lot to say. “You know, back then I asked if she could send me a sign, anything, to nudge me in the right direction. And then shortly after, Namjoon appeared. I came back again and asked for another sign…just to be sure. And then I met you.” Hair blowing in the gentle breeze, Jungkook’s gaze on you is tender. He’s never shared this with you before, and the sheepish look on his face before turning away chuckling tells you he wasn’t planning to. “How lucky,” you say and he looks at you confused, “to have someone so special watching over you.” Jungkook smiles, never having thought of it that way. “Yeah, I guess I am lucky.”

“She’d be proud of you.” You nod. “Of the person you’ve become.” The lump in his throat grows larger but he swallows it down. His eyes start stinging and he curses himself for not being able to stop a tear from falling off the side of his face, quickly wiping it away with the back of his hand. “I don’t know.” He laughs. “She probably would’ve smacked me in the head if she knew what I got into.” “But it all led up to the you that’s here right now.” You say. “A smart, sensible, responsible and brave man.” “And handsome?” You roll your eyes, but feel relieved knowing he can joke at a time like this. “Yes. Handsome too.” Jungkook laughs, pulling you into his arms. Blue skies eventually turn orange as the sun starts to set, and the winds get stronger, blowing leaves across the plot of land. You say your goodbye to Jung-Ah and wait by the side to let Jungkook have some privacy. His fingers never leave her headstone as he speaks, and you know it pains him to have to leave her again. While you can’t hear exactly what he’s saying, his form is clearly more relaxed than before. You take a moment to look at the view, the orange hue resting over the town, birds flying overhead and the sound of kids laughing as they ride their bicycles home after a day at the park. You wonder which one of these roofs used to house Jungkook as a child, if his family were still there, and what would they say if they saw him now. Jungkook’s hand slips into yours and pushes the thoughts out of you. “Ready?” He asks, shoulders feeling lighter than before. You nod. “Are you?” Taken aback by your question, he stares out at the view. This place that used to be all he knew, then all he wanted to forget, is now a place he can no longer call home. Only bits and pieces of the memories he shares with his sister keep him tied here. There may be a lot to unpack, and while he’s settled one part of his troubled life, he doesn’t think he can handle thinking about the past again. “Let’s go.” He says, kissing your temple. The two of you head towards the location Jaemin had given, taking your time. Jaemin was already waiting at the spot, but says nothing when you climb back inside the car, only nodding in the rear view mirror before driving off. Jungkook looks out the window as he does, taking in every little detail. Who knows when he’ll be back, and if things might even be as they are now. Questions about his family still plague your mind, but it’s not something you want him to be burdened with right now. So you let him relive his memories with his sister; smiling at the streets they used to ride down, the school gate she used to wait for him by, the candy shop she’d share half her allowance money on to splurge on sweets with him, and the hill she now lay to rest on, awaiting his return.

⎼

The incessant stinging in your chest won’t go away. Neither will the lump in your throat, and your face muscles are tired from tensing up every time you feel a pinch in the bridge of your nose. Across the room, you watch Jungkook hand over his luggage to Jaemin, accompanied by two other agents. As the door shuts, his eyes search for yours and you don’t turn away in time to hide the pain. Before he can utter a word, you rush in the direction of the room. Standing at the doorway, he laughs when he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed with a pillow pressed against your face, sniffling into it. “I’m not crying.” You say, muffled. Footsteps approach and next thing you know the pillow gets pried away from your fingers. Jungkook caresses your frowning face, cheeks streamed with tears and eyes fresh with new ones about to fall. “It’s just that there’s something in my eyes.” Jungkook laughs again, and lowers himself to press his lips against yours. “It’s okay to be sad.” Grabbing his hands, you shake your head in disagreement. “I don’t want to ruin our last day together.” He hates that those words came out of your mouth, that there is even something as a last day together. “Crying won’t ruin it.” He states, “Actually, not crying would be worse. What? Can’t wait for me to leave?” Laughter leaves your lips, calming his own strained heart while the sleeves of your shirt soak up lingering tears. “You’re an idiot.” You say lovingly, landing your head against his chest. The last week of pretending everything is fine has come to an end. Pushing this move to the back of your minds was the only way either of you could fully live in the moment. But now, reality’s bursting through the doors, claiming its right to your happiness. Every night, you secretly wished for Namjoon to barge through the front door just to announce that Jungkook wouldn’t need to leave after all, the case is settled, Jungkook’s safety not compromised. But that never happened. “One last day.” The words sting. Even more for him, you think, though he does a good job of masking it. It didn’t take a lot to convince Jaemin this time, though you think he might’ve developed a soft spot for Jungkook now, or maybe it was out of pity that he’s allowed one last outing. Your apartment welcomes Jungkook with a familiar scent of lavender mixed with a pot of hot cocoa steaming on the stove. After a brief greeting with Hana who then left for class, he climbs into the comfort of your soft, squeaky bed. While you drop your bag of clothes in the corner, Jungkook’s eyes find the now wilted flowers on your table by the window. Rolling to his feet, he gently touches one of the wilted petals with the pads of his fingers. But his attention quickly shifts to a framed couple photo, next to one of your friend group. Thumb grazing tenderly over your face, he feels like a rope’s tightened around his chest. At your touch, his shoulders drop, your arms snaking over his waist, pressing your body against him. “You can have it if you want.” He arranges it back in place, shaking his head. “I have plenty.” “Good,” his hands cup your face as he turns, “you won’t forget me then.” “Never.” He kisses you. “I’ll die before that happens.” You giggle, getting on your toes for another kiss. “Same.” 

⎼

“I can’t let you out.” The car slows down and comes to a stop by the street across campus. Jaemin looks apologetic. “I know.” Jungkook’s back faces you as his eyes stay locked on the scenes outside. Rolling the window down slightly, the hustle and bustle of the student body takes him back to boring lectures, laughing with friends, training sessions, lunch by the water fountain, the track field, walking to class with you. Leaving the first time was painful enough, but there was always a chance to return. This time, the future’s unpredictable enough to keep his expectations to a minimum. Getting into college was always something he yearned for, one of the only things he had spent years getting Kim to agree to. On the condition he would supply drugs from inside, Kim paid for his tuition, and that was one of the first times Jungkook felt he truly had a hold of his life. Now, it’s only something he can reminisce about. When your fingers slip between his, he squeezes tight. And as the car picks up speed, Jungkook bids a silent goodbye to his unfulfilled college dream. Eventually the building disappears in the rear view mirror, and he heaves out a loaded sigh. The frat house remains as Jungkook remembers it to be, just a little cleaner. Stepping into his room feels like nostalgia, like going back to his childhood room. An orange glow streams in from the window, specs of dust floating in the air. Most of his stuff now packed in boxes, thanks to you, leaves the room the neatest it’s ever been since he claimed it on day one, having fought Taehyung for it. Standing in the middle, slow steps as he takes it all in, Jungkook feels something tugging at his heartstrings. “Why is this so difficult…” He murmurs and you wipe the single tear that escaped. Sucking in a breath, he throws his head back to pull himself together. “This has been your place for the last few years, of course it’s going to be tough to let go.” You say gently, and he nods, running his palm over his cheek. Jungkook flips through a stack of notes on his desk, smiling as he recalls the late nights, stressing over assignments and other stuff that he didn’t bother with until he wanted to impress you with good grades. Organised by colour, his clothes hang neatly, just the way he likes them. Taking on a new identity also meant he’d have to dress completely differently, leaving him no choice but to let them go. Perhaps the other guys would want them. His attention shifts suddenly to the emptiness outside. “It’s so quiet.” Jaemin had contacted Hoseok prior, ensuring that none of the other guys would be around. Jungkook knew that, but it feels weird anyway; no clunking from the kitchen from someone messing up dinner, no screaming at the television over a game, no mindless chatter filling up the house. Things he didn’t think much of before, now he’s going to miss. Sitting quietly on his bed, you smile cautiously. You realise it’s best to let him feel what he needs to feel, to be able to come to terms with what’s happening. “What?” He asks, smile tugging on one side. 

“Nothing.” You shrug, clocking the wicked smile he has on. “You’re cute when you’re serious. Like a rabbit sensing danger.” Finger under your chin to guide you towards him, he leans in and speaks in the teasing way he does. “Who’s the rabbit and who’s the danger here?” “You’re the ra⎼” Trailing off, your voice was barely a whisper as he brings himself closer, pressing his lips into yours in a gentle kiss. One that causes butterflies in your tummy and has you gasping for more. “Cute.” He mocks you. Jungkook’s mischievous grin is one you’ve missed, bringing you back to the early days of your relationship. Not that there’s anything wrong with sweet boyfriend Jungkook, but his assertive self always kept you wanting more. “Remember the first time we⎼” “Yeah.” Amused at how quickly you respond, his knee finds a place between your thighs, forcing you to scoot back. “Wanna re-enact?” “Like…like roleplay?” His brows raise. “Didn’t know you were into that.” “You never asked.” You simply say, earning a huff of annoyance from him. Hands grip your thighs on each side. “So you casually bring it up the day before I leave. So mean.” You giggle as he lifts your bottom half to shift you in the right position. Losing your balance from the sudden movement, your elbows give in, head thumping against the lone pillow, causing a blast of dust flying everywhere. Coughing uncontrollably, he pushes the window open, waving his hands around. Your laughter fills the room, clutching your middle as he struggles to catch his breath. “Oops,” you say between giggles. Furrowed brows turn into a big grin as he breaks into laughter himself. “Well that ruined the mood.” “Did it?” Your pursed lips keep his attention, until your finger hooks over your collar, tugging the material down to expose your cleavage. “How about now?” “Oh⎼ oh yeah, it’s back⎼” He dives straight for the exposed skin, peppering kisses as you laugh, ringing melodiously in his ear. The sound is something he never wants to forget; his insides feel mushy, and tingly, and exhilarated. The feeling intensifies with the charming grin on your face. Your laughter slows down, nodding to question his change in demeanour. The air between you feels light, and the world around you disappears in that moment you let yourself sink into his tender gaze. “What?” You ask shyly. “Nothing.” He says in a whisper, like he’s in a daze. “Good to know some things don’t change.” 

Heads snapping to the side, Jungkook stiffens at the intruder only to sigh in exasperation. Shifting upright, he fixes his hair, directing his gaze to the carpet instead. “Do you ever mind your own business⎼” “Woah,” Jimin blinks, “deja vu.” “What are you even doing here?” “I live here.” At that moment, the old Jungkook comes back, clicking his tongue at the older one’s response. It only excites Jimin, having missed their constant back and forth. It’s just not the same annoying the others. “Feels like it was just yesterday when I walked in on you two lovebirds, and⎼” “And you still don’t have any boundaries.” Jungkook’s head tilt and raised brow doesn’t faze him, simply patting the younger one’s face, then pulling him in for a forced hug. “I’ve missed this!” “He misses it too, just too stubborn to show it.” He glares at you for the remark and you stick your tongue out at him. Jimin exhales obnoxiously, stepping back with hands on his hips. “Can’t wait for you to move back. Then it’ll be just like old times.” Jungkook stares back blankly, and Jimin doesn’t notice the lack of response, already looking through the packed boxes, planning to put things back to where they’re supposed to go. A couple of times, his mouth opens to say something, but he can’t utter a word. They would only be told tonight, Jungkook decided, despite Namjoon offering to do it early. The problem was that he didn’t know how to break the news. Hand on his shoulder to get his attention, you lean in to whisper, “Do you want to tell him?” Jimin continues to rummage through the boxes, taking it upon himself to remove some of the clothes you packed away. He rambles on about something neither of you are paying attention to. “I’ll do it with you.” You lace your fingers with his. Diverting his gaze to the carpet to think about it for a while, Jungkook then presses his lips into a line and nods in agreement. You nod encouragingly. “Jimin, there’s something you should know.”

⎼

The gentle breeze grazes over your skin, causing goosebumps to appear. It smells of fresh grass and earth, and a little hint of Jungkook’s cologne, with his jacket wrapped comfortably around your shoulders. Right by the river, a path stretches along its length, buzzing with cyclists, runners, and the public. Near the edge of the water, crowds of people sit on the steps, waiting for the light show display along a bridge which travels across the river. Higher up on a hill, far away from the masses, your thigh brushes against Jungkook’s, arm hooked around his and your head on his shoulder. Churro in hand, he brings the snack to you, humming as you take a bite. “That’s good, actually.” He agrees, taking a bite himself. “7 out of 10.” “Seven?” You tilt your head up. “This is an 8.5 at least.” “Still, it’s better than the ones you tried to make.” Licking sugar off his fingers, he ignores the way your jaw drops till you land a smack to his chest. You recall the time you decided to try making churros of your own, only end up charring most of them, and getting multiple burn marks from splattering oil. He, of course, had been there to treat your wounds while snickering at the fail. “You’re so mean.” Offering a kiss to your cheek as an apology, he reaches over the spread of food laid out before you on a picnic mat, grabbing your favourite mango pudding. Despite the pout, you welcome a spoonful of it and break into a shy smile as he looks on with a tender smile. “You know I love your terrible cooking.” He braces as your fist makes contact with his arm. “It’s not my fault you have expensive taste.” “I’m not sure wanting food to be edible is having expensive taste, but okay.” You can’t even fight the laughter that spills out, knowing exactly how terrible some of the things you make turn out. “When you get back, I’ll cook the best meal you’ve ever had, you’ll see!” Jungkook chuckles, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Can’t wait.” You lock eyes for a little longer, till the sounds of amazement and cheering float through the crowd below as the light show begins. Streaks of rainbow coloured lights shine up into the night, as water jets activate at the same time, with music playing in sync. It’s a show you’ve seen many times before, and every single time it amazes you. But this time, your attention towards Jungkook remains undivided. You tuck the stray hairs behind his ear. “It’s getting long.” He smiles at your comment while you continue to fix his hair. “Maybe I’ll grow it out.” “Long hair?” Your nose scrunches up. “I don’t see it.” “You might not even recognise me when I come back.” You tilt your head in the way he finds adorable. “I’ll more likely forget how to make ramyeon before I forget how you look like.” His brows furrow. “Odd thing to say considering you can’t even make instant noodles without drying out the soup too much.” You huff. “That was one time and I was distracted because you were parading around the house naked.” “Yeah, you like that huh?” “Oh shut up.” 

Jungkook’s laughter feels like a snug embrace, keeping you safe from the chaos of the world around you. His head drops to your lap and he welcomes your touch, tracing figures over his skin. “You’re so mean tonight. Giving my cooking so much flak.” “Oh baby, I love your cooking.” He sighs. “It reminds me that no matter how perfect someone is, they have to suck at one thing.” Yelping at the onslaught of pinches on his side, Jungkook flails about, reaching for your hand. Leaving the comfort of your thigh, he gets to his knees, now gripping both your wrists and sending a kiss to your scowl as he gets behind you, crossing your arms over your body. Back resting against him now, legs clipping you tight between him, he forcefully keeps you pressed against him, keeping your arms down. “You’re strong.”

“You’re annoying.” 

His cheek rests against your head, ignoring the squirming till you give up. “You laugh, but you’re gonna miss it.” “Yeah.” He says, a little calmer. “I will, actually.” With your back against his chest, you feel the thumping of his heart, comforting and calming. There’s a comfortable silence that falls around the two of you. “How…how long do you think it’ll take?” You ask the uncertain. “I don’t know.” He says, loosening his grip when you shift to get comfortable. “Trials usually take years to even proceed with.” “Years.” You echo it to yourself. You straighten up, so you can shift between his feet to face him slightly. He doesn’t let go of the chance to press his lips to your cheek. “Isn’t it unfair? We’ve only just got the chance to be together again…like normal people.” “I’ve never done long distance before.” You say, and you feel the shift of his head as he smiles. “What?” “Long distance.” You repeat. “That’s what we’re gonna be till you’re back.” Jungkook swells with confidence at this new way of putting it. “I like that.” You smile shyly. “Did you know that 60% of long distance relationships work out? The key is communication.” “Someone’s done their research.” Jungkook’s tickled by your sudden announcement. “You’re cute. Communication’s gonna be a little hard though.” “You’ll write to me, won’t you?” “Of course.” 

Sighing, you recall the rules Namjoon had gone through with you about communication. Strictly none allowed. But, he’s willing to allow letters. They’d have to go through them though, and will be read through before handing over to each of you. “I’ll write to you every month.” Jungkook says. “It’ll probably take weeks for it to reach you anyway, and to wait for you to respond.” “I’ll keep you updated on what’s going on here.” “There is a problem though.” “What?” You turn to him with his brows furrowed and deep in thought. He blinks. “How will you send nudes?” You shove his face, enough you send him flying back and he laughs, falling to the grass. “Irritating.” He jolts himself back up, peppering you with apology kisses and you accept them willingly, tilting your head enough for him to sneak down your neck as he sways your bodies side to side. “But you know I was thinking,” he kisses, “if you do want to press pause⎼” You freeze, wondering if you heard that right. “I’m just saying, we don’t know when I’ll be back. And I wouldn’t want to hold you back if you end up meeting someone that you think you’d hit it off with.” Jungkook looks at the back of your head, unmoving, and wonders if you were considering it. “Of course, I don’t want that. I love you but I also want you to be happy and if that means⎼” Your palm comes into contact with his cheek. It was a slap, but so gentle and soft that he wonders if it even happened. You do it again, more like a tap this time. “How could you say that? You think I could ever be happy with someone else?” “I don’t want to hold you back.” “Then you should’ve let me go before we got serious.” A little hurt flashes across his face. “After everything, you still think I’d rather be with someone else?” You say softly, caressing his cheeks, eyes softening with concern. “You’re my boyfriend. I love you. Only you.” He smiles just a little. “Sorry. It was just a suggestion.” “A terrible one.” You throw yourself into him, wrapping around his neck. “I can never be happy with anyone else but you.” “Really?” “You silly goose.” Jungkook visibly relaxes in your arms, feeling idiotic to have even brought that up. The night goes on as you lay there in each other’s arms, looking up at the night sky as opposed to the light show. Grey clouds inch towards where you are, slowly hiding the moon away from you. Jungkook stares at your side, taking in this view of you. When you do the same, Jungkook moves in to plant a kiss, savouring it till thunder starts to rumble above you. Just as you make it back to the car where Jaemin rests, it starts to drizzle. Jaemin turns in his seat, frowning when Jungkook pauses by the open door. He turns his back to the car and sees you standing a foot behind him with your palm up to the sky, letting the raindrops touch your skin. Stepping away from the car, standing before you, wet strands of hair sticks to his face. And as the rain gets heavier, the two of you seem to share the same thought. His hand clutches yours, giggling as the two of you make a run for it, ignoring the yells coming from the car. Back up the hill, in the open space, Jungkook and you dance and frolic around in the rain, laughing your hearts out gleefully. He lifts you in his arms, spinning you in circles as you extend your arms out, welcoming the rain as it washes all your sorrows away. He sets you down gently, and you brush the hair away from his face. “You make me so happy.” You say over the rain. “I love you more than anything.” “I love you too baby. You're my whole world.” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand in his. “I’ll wait for you no matter how long it takes.” Jungkook kisses you fervently in the rain, drenched and shivering, with nothing left to lose. 

⎼

Trees sway in the wind, and lighting flashes occasionally followed by the rumbling of thunder in the distance as the storm continues to pour down. The heavy rain caused a massive traffic jam below, but thankfully you managed to return before getting caught in it. In the comfort of the apartment, warm and dry, the lamp in the corner casts a dim orange hue perfect for a cozy night. Jungkook’s lips move gently against yours, knuckles grazing your cheek tenderly as his arm keeps you steady around the waist. Your hips sway against his, fueling the tent growing under his sweats. Lips slightly sore and swollen, his doe eyes stare into yours when you break the kiss, resting his head against the headboard behind. The bittersweet feeling of having to part from you, something he’d been suppressing, starts creeping into his heart, Finger tracing over his lips, his eyes fall shut as you go over his features; his eyes, nose, cheekbones, jaw. Your touch always does something to him, something so calming and natural about the way you move against him, even if it’s just the touch of a finger. The arm around you instinctively pulls you closer, just so your bodies meet, making it easier to capture you in another kiss, one much hungrier than before. Out of breath from his intensity, you pull away to calm yourself. But Jungkook doesn’t stop, pushing off from the headboard, leaning forward to press kisses to your cheek, trailing over your jaw and down to your neck. The moment he finds your sweet spot, your thighs squeeze around him in response and he hums against your skin when you start to rock your hips against him. His hands slide up your sides, tugging your camisole along with them up and over your head, exposing your bare breasts to the cool air. Rough hands cup them in his palm, thumb grazing over your erect nipples, and your body twitches at the sensation. You bite your bottom lip as he takes one of your tits in his mouth while kneading the other. When he takes a nipple between his teeth, your hip bucks in response, and he groans at the friction. Flips your positions, he now hovers above you, fitting nicely between your legs. His shirt comes off easily much to your delight, hands grazing over his chest. The dim light casts shadows over his body, giving him an ethereal glow. Jungkook grins at the obvious excitement in your expression, finding it absolutely adorable how you can’t hide the rise of your cheekbones, choosing to hide behind a tight-lipped smile. “You like that, huh?” His mouth hovers over yours, whispering against your lips while his hands snake down your body, and under your shorts.

You hum when his fingers fondle over your folds, and you return the favour, hand slipping past the hem of his sweats, exhaling at the sudden contact of your palm to his cock. Foreheads sticking to each other, Jungkook sucks in a breath as you rub against him. Two fingers slip inside you, and you lose all focus, gripping his cock, unmoving. Fingers slipping in and out of you keeps you distracted as you try to chase that high. The curve of his fingers hit the right spot each time, having memorised you well. Delighted at your response but protesting your lack of movement, he takes it upon himself and bucks his hips, fucking into your grip. Jungkook pauses, and your heart sinks at the loss. As he peels your hand off him, Jungkook tugs down your shorts, sucking in a breath at the glistening sight before him. Legs now spread before him, Jungkook slips four fingers into your dripping hole, cock twitching at the way you writhe. Sheets balled up in your fists, your chest heaves as you feel the rush of adrenaline flowing through you, and it only takes the thrilling sensation of Jungkook’s warm breath on your cunt, sucking on your clit, to have you seeing stars. Your sweet moans fill the room as you ride his face, bucking your hips wildly. Jungkook licks every last bit of your cum, giving your cunt a kiss before sliding up to let you taste yourself. Jungkook gets on his knees and you watch as he removes his sweats, cock springing up proudly against his abs. Finding the strength to sit up, crawling towards him, your doe eyes look up at him for permission. “Fuck.” He can never say no. Not when you look so pretty. Just at the sight of you, his cock starts to throb. It twitches the moment you start with a kiss to the base of his shaft. Taking your time, you plant sloppy kisses along his length till you get to the top. And the moment your mouth wraps around his tip, Jungkook’s body melts into the mattress, heat rushing through him, rewarding you with his sensual moans. He watches how his cock disappears into your mouth as you take in his entire length. Fingers wrap around your hair as he gently rocks his hips against you. He watches how his cock disappears into your mouth as you take the entirety of his length. His fingers wrap around your hair, as he gently moves his hips against you. “Oh baby⎼” A rush flows through his veins when you look up at him. Both hands now covering his length, twisting your wrists as you pump, your mouth pays special attention to his tip. His hips buck up in reflex, and you almost gag from the sudden movement, but recover quickly. A guttural sound escapes him and he pulls your head back, slowly removing himself from you, then tapping his cock against your tongue as his pre-cum leaks all over it. “Good girl.” He purrs, and his cock glistens as you lick every last bit of him. Sitting back, Jungkook lets you climb on top, positioning your entrance with his dick. With his hands on your hips, easing you down, your thighs tremble as his tip enters, letting out a sweet moan as you lower yourself down all the way. Jungkook doesn’t realise how he holds his breath as he watches you take all of him, and he lets you have a moment, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips when he sees the pure look of ecstasy on your face. As you start to move, he’s hypnotised by the sway of your hips, the bounce of your tits and the blissed out expression on your face. A goddess in his eyes, it forces him to sit up, sucking the skin against your collarbone. Palms on the bed to keep him steady, Jungkook leans back to watch the way you move, and you heat up under his gaze. 

He can’t keep his hands off you, running them across your soft skin, wanting to touch every inch of you and claim your body as his alone. Thrusting his hips up while you grind, reaching deeper each time, you gasp at every time he manages to hit the spot. A loud smack echoes as his palms land against your ass, and you yelp out in pain and pleasure, disrupting your flow as your hips twitch, and he growls at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. You giggle as you fall forward, struggling to stay up, using his chest to support you. He glows at the sound of your laughter, watching you hover over him with your faces barely touching. “Do it again.” As you say it with such innocence, yet sensual tone, Jungkook thinks he might go crazy. His arm wraps around your waist as he lands another smack, and you jump, bouncing down onto his cock, nails digging into his shoulders. “Like that?” You nod, embarrassed at the request and your body’s reaction. But Jungkook can’t get enough of it, the strangled whimpers you make as his palm meets the skin of your ass again, and again and again⎼ till you cry out, shaking as you cum, convulsing around his cock and he rolls his hips to let you ride it out, tenderly rubbing the sore spot on your ass. Warm, sticky liquid flows down his hard cock and you bite your lip bashfully. But it turns him on even more. Your back drops to the mattress, and the two of you are separated momentarily, till you feel him prodding against your entrance once again. Jungkook’s heart races when you smile at him, suddenly reminded of that ache in his chest. You gasp when he slides in, easily this time. Hands caging you in on each side, Jungkook brushes away the hairs sticking to your face as he starts with long and slow strokes, fully absorbed in the erotic sounds you make, with sensual eyes staring up at him. His pretty eyes sparkle above you, staring deep into yours, memorising every bit of detail. His gaze drops down to where your bodies connect, the gentle thrusts of his hips against yours, your hips rolling up in sync, where you become one with each other. The ache in his chest grows, threatening to spill out, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. But then you pull him in for a kiss, slow and intimate, lips melting with each other, and the ache manifests into something more familiar, the intense adoration he holds for you, wanting to worship your very being. You taste a hint of saltiness in the kiss, and then realise the stray tear fallen down his face. Your thumb caresses his cheek with concern, and he leans into your touch, whispering, “I love you.” It pierces deep into your soul, intoxicating you with thoughts of him and only him. A garden blooms in your chest, fueled by your feelings for him. Time seems to stop in that moment, and you drown in his eyes, choking on your love, heart pounding in your ears. Only you and Jungkook exist in this moment, souls tied together by an invisible string. He is yours. And you are his. Forever. Jungkook picks up the pace in his thrusts, and your legs wrap around him, allowing him to hit deeper. Skin sticking to each other, with your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, your bodies heat up, hearts beating against the other. Jungkook peppers kisses on your chest, mouthing against your nipples while you moan at every thrust. He starts to feel the clenching of your walls, groaning at the way it sucks his cock in every time. “Baby…” you whisper, hands on his chest. “Yeah?” He kisses the crook of your neck. “What is it, my love?” Overwhelmed by a wave of emotions, they rush through your body, tears forming in your eyes. Memories of your time with him come to mind. From the very first time you saw him at the cafe, your first kiss, to the time he took a bullet for you, and everything in between.

Jungkook captures your lips in a kiss, in an effort to soothe you, but it only adds fuel to the fire burning in the pit of your core. He picks up on it, pushing himself up to grab your hips, angling it in the way he knows would hit the spot that has your eyes rolling back. Pounding into you harder, a string of moans from you makes his dick twitch inside. The tension in his core tells him he’s close, and he digs into the flesh of your hips. You reach for him, and Jungkook presses your bodies together once again, maintaining his pace as he rolls his hips with yours. “Jungkook,” you murmur, breath hitching. Your mouth parts, and chest starts heaving, and he knows you’re close. You force your eyes open as you feel it coming, cupping the side of his face as tears stream down yours. “I love you too.” You gasp as the tension snaps, legs shaking around him and body shivering as you dig your nails into his shoulders, orgasm spilling out of you in waves. As you convulse around him, mixed with the lewd sounds coming out of you, you feel the throbbing of Jungkook’s cock, and seconds later with a strangled moan against your ear, Jungkook spurts warm liquid inside of you, mixing with your own cum. The sound of his breathing is all you can hear apart from the throbbing of your head, as he rests his head next to yours, body warm and heavy on top of you. Arms around his middle, you kiss his shoulders where you’d left marks from before. Jungkook’s disheveled hair, half-lidded eyes and silly smile greets you when he finally gets the energy to lift his head. Your body shivers as he removes himself, still sensitive to the touch. He lies down on his side, next to you, wiping the tear stains off your cheeks. Neither of you say a word, knowing all there is to say has been said. You press your head to his chest, listening to the sound of his heart, beating in rhythm with yours.

⎼

The storm carried on till morning, now simmered down to a drizzle, and the skies remain cloudy and gloomy. In the car, next to Jungkook, your head rests on his shoulder, hugging his arm with your fingers interlaced. Every now and then his hand would squeeze yours, grounding him in the moment. It’s a long drive, though you were thankful for the morning traffic, giving you a little extra time with him. Neither of you barely got any rest last night, just laying in each other’s arms, eventually dozing off close to sunrise. The car drives out of the city, onto a long stretch of a highway. It finally turns down an exit with minimal other cars going in the same direction, driving ahead where greenery slowly turns into open land, dry and deserted. The other cars drive past as the car slows down nearing a rest stop, pulling up into the parking lot, void of others. It’s the only building for miles and miles, a diner in the middle of nowhere. Jaemin lowers his window slightly, awaiting a thumbs up from the waitress through the side window of the diner, before pulling up into a slot. It must be their own people. While the rain had stopped as you left the city, the clouds seemed to have followed you here, gathering above and announcing their presence with the rumble of thunder. Droplets of water begin to race down the windows as it starts to rain again. “The others should be here soon.” Jaemin says, checking his phone. You look at Jungkook, smiling at him as you contemplate on saying your goodbye right here. He pulls you in a hug, nestling his head on your shoulder and memorising your scent. The act alone brings tears to your eyes, knowing it’ll be one of the last times you’ll be in his arms for a while. But you pull yourself together, “It’ll be okay.” You whisper, and he nods. Soon, two other cars enter the lot, five minutes apart. The door slides open and Namjoon steps out, nodding to the driver and Jaemin before sliding the door to your car. “Good morning.” He exhales, extending a hand out to Jungkook, helping him out. Two other agents stand beside them, holding up big black umbrellas, sheltering them from the rain. From the other car, Namjoon gestures towards the rest, and Jungkook sees the familiar faces of his friends, each happy to see him. Bracing himself, he swallows the lump in his throat, glancing back momentarily when he feels your touch on his back, encouraging him. 

“I’m kinda nervous but here goes,” he heaves out, looking around at the three of them. “Thanks for coming down to see me, I know this was super last minute, and I don't have much time, but I just wanted to say thank you for sticking around, and for being my friends, back then and now.” “Things have been crazy the last few months; I got shot, almost died, my girlfriend got kidnapped,” he shakes his head and the others chuckle, “it’s just been a lot, and I’m sorry for getting you guys involved in any way.” “As you’ve all heard, I'm gonna be away for some time.” He pauses when you sniff, sneaking a glance at you. “For how long, I don’t know. And unfortunately, it’ll be off the grid, so you won’t be able to reach me until I eventually come back. If I come back. We don’t know what the future will hold so⎼” Jungkook falters backwards when Hana rushes in for a hug, a tissue crumpled in her fist. “We’ll be waiting.” He wraps his arms around her shoulder, and she pulls away, dabbing the tissue against her eyes. “Take care, okay? Come back safe.” “Of course. Thanks Hana.” Jungkook sighs as he turns to you, tearing up after seeing her do the same. “I know she’s really stubborn and all, sorry I won’t be there to keep her in check, you’re just gonna have to deal with it I guess.” You land a punch on his back and they laugh. “Look after her for me?” “I definitely will.” There’s a sad smile on her face as she shakes his hand, before stepping to your side, rubbing a hand on your back. Jimin steps forward, lips quivering, the area around his eyes slightly red from crying. “My baby boy.” He says, cupping the side of Jungkook’s face. This time, Jungkook doesn’t even mind, smiling in response. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” His voice goes up an octave as he pulls Jungkook in for a hug, patting Jungkook’s head like he’s the one crying. “Me too, hyung.” Jungkook grins. “Gonna miss your constant barging into my personal space.” “I know you will.” He nods, making Jungkook laugh. “You take care. Eat well. Watch all those shows I’ve been asking you to.” “Sure.” “Don’t roll your eyes at me.” “I didn’t⎼” “You’re doing it right now.” Jungkook sucks in a breath, a familiar irritation brewing, something Jimin is an expert at bringing out. Jimin laughs at the glare he receives, messing up Jungkook’s hair. “Sorry. I just had to one last time before you go.” Jungkook visibly relaxes, laughing along with him, and extending his arms for another hug. Hoseok smiles where he stands watching them. When Jungkook turns to him next, he walks up to the younger boy and they face each other for a beat, neither knowing how to navigate this awkward situation. “Come on guys,” Namjoon motions for the rest to get inside, “let’s give them a moment.” When the door slides shut behind him, Hoseok shakes his head, “You idiot.” Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise, till he sees the smile growing  on Hoseok’s face. “You should’ve told us sooner.” “I didn’t know how to…” Jungkook shrugs, “It’s like I keep bringing everyone bad news.” “We care about you, you know that right?” Jungkook swallows a lump in his throat. Hearing that from Hoseok is something else. “I⎼” “Even if it is bad news, we’d want to know. So we can help you.” He smiles. “You’re not alone in this life, Jungkook. You have us.” Hands trembling, and failing to stop the tears from racing down his cheeks, Jungkook sniffs, wiping his face with his sleeve. Hoseok extends his hand and Jungkook takes it only to be pulled into a hug. It’s unnatural at first, until Hoseok pats his head. He gets the same feeling he got when they were talking on the roof; a hint of nostalgia, the same feeling he used to have as a child when he spent time with his sister. His body eases into Hoseok’s hold. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Stop that.” Hoseok orders, though he’s breaking out into tears as well. “I mean it. I caused a lot of trouble.” Jungkook sniffs. “Thanks for always looking out for me, and thinking of me. You’re…you’re the big brother I never had.” Hoseok’s grip tightens as the words come out of his mouth. He wishes there was more he could do, part of him still feeling guilty over how things went down between them. “Stupid Jungkook.” He giggles when he pulls away. Jungkook’s glossy eyes and red nose, and Hoseok’s tear stained face makes the other laugh. They wipe their faces bashfully. “You come back soon, okay?” Jungkook nods. “I have to ask you a favour.” Hoseok tilts his head in question. “While I’m gone, please look after her.” Jungkook glances back, though he can’t see you through the tinted windows. “She has a knack for getting into trouble. And if anyone, I think you’ll be able to keep her out of it. I trust you.” “Of course.” Hoseok grins. “But only while you’re away. After that, I’m gonna have to start charging for babysitting services.” Jungkook nods, chuckling. “But if you so much as try to make another move on her, just know that I’m gonna beat you up.” Hoseok laughs, and it’s the first time Jungkook thinks he’s ever heard his laugh, now realising how warm it makes him feel. “Don’t worry.” He takes a more serious tone. “Everything will be fine here, just know that we’ll all be waiting for your return.” “Thank you.” The rain starts to get heavier, and Jungkook gestures towards the car as he slides the door open. “You should get inside. It’s starting to really pour.” Namjoon and you exit the car as Hoseok slips inside. You grab hold of his hand as another car enters the lot, Namjoon with a knowing smile directed at you. “There’s someone else who needs to say goodbye.” Jungkook tilts his head adorably, rubbing his red nose. He eyes the car, which stops next to the ones you’re standing in between. Namjoon gets the door, bringing the umbrella along. Jungkook watches as he comes back around, with someone else walking closely next to him. His eyes go wide. Disregarding the rain, she runs right into Jungkook’s arms, hugging him tight. Still processing it, he tilts his head to make sure he’s seeing this right, before wrapping around her shoulders. “Mia! How’d you⎼” “I called her.” You say. “Told her everything.” “What the hell.” She slams her fist onto his chest, while still resting her head on him. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook chuckles. “About which part?” “Everything.” She says, pulling away, wiping her eyes. “Why did you carry that burden all by yourself? You should’ve told me. I could’ve helped you.” “I couldn’t put you at risk like that.” “Of course you couldn’t.” Jungkook touches the part of her head where a bandage is. He sighs. “I’m fine now.” “Of course you are.” He chuckles, an adoring look on his face. “I’m glad you’re okay. Now that we’re free, promise me you’ll get into college, and find a good, safe job.” Mia smiles though she struggles to keep her lips upturned. “I’ll try my best. When will you be back?” “Not sure. It’ll be a while.” Her shoulders slump in resignation. “Do you really have to go?” She turns to Namjoon who presses his lips into a thin line and shrugs. “I have to.” Jungkook sighs. “But don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” “I know.” Mia nods. “I’m gonna miss you, boss.” “I’m not your boss now,” he raises his palms, “you’re on your own kid.” She giggles. “I’m gonna miss you. Thanks for always looking out for me. I owe you.” “No you don’t. Go live your life.” Jungkook pulls her in for another hug. “I’ll miss you too.”

As another car pulls up, the agents start moving around you. As Mia joins the others in the car, Namjoon gestures towards Jungkook, making your heart race, hands slipping into his, squeezing tight. “We’re ready.” He says, speaking to the both of you. “I’ll go with you about halfway. You’ll be handed over to Jaemin and the local handler after.” Jungkook nods, turning towards his friends. It feels surreal, looking at the four pairs of eyes watching him with a mixture of fondness, despair and solemness. “It’s time. I have to go now. I um, really enjoyed the dinner we had, and when I come back, I really hope we can do that again, if you guys like.” “We’ll hold you to that.” Hoseok says. Everyone wishes him their last goodbyes and hugs, and he looks at you, nodding. Hand in hand, you walk with him towards the car parked on the opposite side of the lot. While you have made peace with it, you can’t help the tears that stream down your face. Jungkook’s cold hands come up to the side of your face. “I’m sorry.” Shaking your head, your hands fix his jacket, pulling it tighter around him and placing your hands on his chest. “Is it too late to request for me to come with you?” His eyes crinkle at the corners. “I told you to get in my suitcase.” You laugh, and he gently grabs on to your hands, holding them up between you. Your finger brushes against the metal around one of his, a familiar ring which catches your attention. “Do you want your ring back?” “No,” you suck in a breath, pulling out the necklace with the ring he gave you, clutching it in your fist. “You said we’d exchange this when we’re free to be with each other.” “We are free to be together.” He grins, “Just very very far apart.” You shove him playfully. “Keep that. It’ll keep you safe. A piece of me to have with you.” “Baby, you’re always with me. In here.” He points to his heart and smile widens at the way your nose scrunches up. “Silly.” His laugh dies down eventually, and you can hear the time ticking, counting down to the exact moment you’d have to part. “You know how much you mean to me right?” Jungkook says, running his tongue over his lips that have suddenly gone dry. “As much as you mean to me.” You nod. His lips quiver, and you see that little boy from a small town, losing his sister, having to leave his family in pursuit of somewhere to call home. The scared little boy who only wanted somewhere he belonged. “I love you so much Jungkook.” You say, clutching his hands. “I love you too, Y/N.” With your arms wrapped around each other, you let the warm tears stream down your face. He tilts his head to kiss you, soft and gentle, melting his lips into yours. With one last look at you, he breaks away, leaving only your intertwined hands. Behind him, Namjoon stands with his back towards you, sheltering the two of you with an umbrella. He slides the door open, a cheerless smile on his face as he turns to you. Pressing his lips to your forehead, soothing the ache in your heart, and his, Jungkook’s hand slowly slips away from yours. The emptiness you already feel, physically and emotionally, takes the breath out of your lungs. Hana hugs you tight in the car, wiping the tear stains off your face. As you’re about to leave, your cars stop right next to each other just before exiting the rest stop, about to head in opposite directions. The windows roll down, both yours and his. Hair blowing in the wind, he flashes his charming smile, one that you've ingrained into your memory. I love you. He mouths. As the cars inch forward, turning into opposite directions, Jungkook blows you a kiss, and you to him.

From the rear window, his car carries on down the long road ahead, eventually disappearing from sight, dragging your heart along with it.

⎼

Hi my love, I hope you’re well! I’ve settled in nicely here. I wish I could tell you more but you-know-who’s looking over my shoulder right now, reminding me about the million things I should be careful about while writing this, and is annoying me to death. Other than that, it’s not too bad. Although I’m already missing you terribly. They say I’m gonna have to look for a job and I’m kinda nervous. I’ve never been to a job interview before. And I’d have to wear a tie! I think it’s ridiculous but you’d like that though, wouldn’t you? Miss you. Hope you’re eating well, staying warm and out of trouble. I hope everyone else is okay too. Please give them my regards, will you? I’ll talk to you soon. Love, J.K. P.S. send nudes.

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taglist:

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[bumblebeesfromvenus]

My precious Jewel ♧

Bale!Bruce Wayne x soon-to-be wife!reader

A/N: I got carried away. I'm very passionate about Bale!Bruce and just lost control at one point. I'm not sorry, hehe! This is for all my Bale!Bruce girlies. Can be read for any Bruce, though! Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Prompt: Bruce spoiling you to the high heavens and only wanting your love in return.

Requested by: my lovely mutual @vampkennedy

Warnings: NFSW CONTENT. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, very very fluffy, kinda possessive Bruce

Word count: 3.6k

PART 2 ♡

Please don't copy my work. I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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There was not a morning where you didn't wake up like this. You were alone, yes, but you knew he wasn't far. He never was. This had turned into a game of sorts. A spiel where he would shower you in lavish gifts every single morning. It was his way of showing you just how much you meant to him and that you held his heart in your hands.

You sat up in your shared bed and stretched your arms, letting out a yawn. Your gaze fell to the sliver of light that your curtains couldn't keep out. Getting up, you followed it carefully, knowing that he wanted you to. He was Bruce Wayne, nothing was a coincidence. Everything was intenional. A small, red box sat on your vanity, a note right next to it. It was being perfectly illuminated by the slice of sunshine cutting through the darkness of the room. A smile crept onto your face as you read the note your lover had left you.

My beloved,

May this bring a sparkle to your life, just as you have brought to mine.

Love,

Bruce ♡

You rolled your eyes at how corny this was, but it still tugged at your heart strings in the best way possible. Every day there would be a new box and note for you to discover. Placing the gifts in just the right spot and, like today, draping the curtain just at the perfect angle to guide the way to his love. He was always awake before you were but that didn't stop him. He'd never missed a day and you doubt he ever would.

You looked forward to this as well, but not because of the jewelry or whatever other expensive gifts he had prepared. No. It was the notes. It were the cruelly scribbled down words that made your heart beat out of your chest.

You loved the gifts as well, but the notes held a special place in your heart. Putting down the piece of paper, you carefully picked up the tiny box and opened the lid. Your mouth fell slightly agape at the sight before you. In the smooth, white pillows sat a delicate necklace. It was glistening in the morning glow ever so nicely.

A beautifully crafted rose pendant hung from it, the intricate petals were cold to the touch as you gently grazed the tips of your fingers over them. This had been one of most extravagant presents he'd ever given you. Bruce did always call you his flower. You brought so much to his once dull and gray life; his heart and soul bloomed like the delicate daffodils did in early spring everytime he thought of you. You brought color and joy. Just like flowers did.

"Oh, Bruce..." you sniffled, the smile on your face hurting your cheeks. Carefully picking it up, you placed it around your neck and fastened the clasp. It fit perfectly, sitting ever so delicately on your skin. You admired yourself in your vanity mirror, your fingers slightly grazing the skin just around the necklace.

You couldn't wait to show Bruce. Yes, he'd picked it out but it looked so different on you than it did on the silken interior of the small box.

Throwing on one of your many, many silk robes that Bruce insisted on getting in every single color, you quickly made your way down the grand staircase. The cold marble tiles sending a delightfully cool feeling up your spine each time you took a step. You rushed down the stairs, a steady grasp on the railing. The sunlight streaming in through the many windows fell right onto your ring.

Slowing your pace, you held your hand up to the light and examined the shimmering band. A reminder of his love. He had proposed to you just a few days ago. It was incredibly special, just the two of you under the stars. He popped the question in the stunning garden of Wayne manor that Alfred worked so hard on.

Speaking of Alfred, he was more excited than either of you. He had to sit down and went through an entire box of tissues when you broke the news. What a kind soul. You had the dumbest smile on your face recalling the events from a couple of days ago. Letting out a squeal, you pressed your hands to your heart. You were getting married. Not only that, but to him. The love of your life.

You couldn't wait any longer, you had to see him. Hurrying the rest of the way to the dinning hall, you composed yourself before entering. And the sight. Dear God. Bruce was sat at the head of the table in his boxers and a white T-shirt, coffee cup in one hand, newspaper in the other. He looked so domestic, so peaceful. Not like previous nights where he'd limp in, all battered and bruised.

Slightly looking up, his furrowed brows were immediately replaced with a wide grin when he spotted you. Putting down the mug and the paper he got out of his chair, walking your way. You met him halfway, your arms thrown loosely around his neck as his snaked around your waist.

"If it isn't my beautiful wife." He grinned, tracing circles on your waist with his thumb. "Ah, soon-to-be wife." You corrected him, the smile on your cheeks never leaving. He chuckled lowly and shook his head. "What took you so long, Honey?" He questioned softly. You laughed at his eagerness to see you. "I was held up by your generosity, Mr. Wayne." You teased, taking one of his hands and placing it on your collarbone, right next to the stunning piece of jewelry.

His gaze fell to your neck and his smile faded, leaving him wide-eyed and with his mouth slightly agape. He tenderly caressed your soft skin with his thumb, tracing the shape of the necklace. "I knew it'd be perfect," He breathed out, followed by a breathy chuckle. Your cheeks flushed and you brought his hand up to your lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles.

"Thank you, Sweetheart. For all these precious gifts. For always making me wake up with a smile on my face. You've made me the happiest girl in the world." You confessed, the softest smile on your face. Bruce swear his heart just melted inside his chest. He made you the happiest girl in the world? You have no idea how happy you made him. He felt invincible, like the king of the world. He was convinced he only needed your love to accomplish whatever he set his mind to. You were his oxygen, the blood in his veins, the very spirit of his soul.

Bruce was determined to show you just how much you meant to him, if that was possible. "Anything for you, my love." He said, having the most adoring look in his eyes. You'd placed your hand on his cheek in the meantime, the golden engagement band cold against his skin. "I love you, Bruce." You whispered, gently leaning in for a tender kiss. He didn't hesitate, pulling you closer to him by your waist. You relaxed against his lips, tightening the grip you had on the back of his neck.

You needed more, you needed him. He chuckled against your lips but complied, deepening the kiss. Pulling away for air, you were breathless and your lips were puffy. He would kiss you breathless forever if he could. And God knows you would let him. His playboy days paid off for something because this man could kiss. And you loved how you were the only one to feel those kisses.

"Look at you. My eager, little wife." A sly smirk was on his face and he made sure to emphasize the last word. You opened your mouth to correct him again, but he quickly interrupted you with another breathtaking yet soft kiss. You didn't now why you were so easily flustered by his kisses, you'd been together for years. There just something so electric and new about being his. Truly being his. Him being yours.

"I know we're not married yet, but I can call you whatever I want. You're mine." He said lowly, pupils dilated. His grip on your waist tightend. He's never done that. Never called you his. Told you you were his. It was implied, of course, but he'd never said the actual words. You just stood there, face flushed to the high heavens with the biggest lovesick smile on your face. His tone softened again when he spoke.

"I want you to wear the necklace to the Gala tonight." Your brows furrowed and you slightly tilted your head in confusion. "What Gala?" You asked, no idea what he was talking about. "Oh, it's a... spontaneous thing. There's a new dress in the closet." He answered. You squinted your eyes in suspicion. "Spontaneous, huh? Also, we talked about this, Sweetheart. I don't need a new dress for every event! I've barely worn the other hundreds." You laughed.

He just grinned in response. You knew he loved to see you in something new each time, he loved spoiling you. Only the best for his love. "That's where we disagree. Would you wrap a diamond ring in used wrapping paper?" He teased. You playfully rolled your eyes at him. "No, I wouldn't." You sighed.

"All the other dress just can't keep up with your inner beauty." He breathed, a soft look in his eyes. You folded. You could never be upset with him for long, you loved him too much. "Fine, I'll wear it. You're lucky I love you," you pouted. He wanted you to never stop saying that. That you loved him. Something he'd longed for, for so long. To be loved, truly loved. Not for his money, his status, his looks. But because of who he was. And you did just that. From the odd noises he made when he slept, to the extremely bad jokes he made. You were always there, tending to his wounds, whether they affected his body or his soul. Holding him so softly after a hard night, he feared you'd crumble under his calloused hands.

"Well, I'll get ready for the day. I'll see you later, okay?" You said, pressing a quick peck to his lips. He hummed in response as you slipped from his grasp.

"Honey?" you turned around, already halfway up the stairs.

"There will be a lot more press and paparazzi there today," he said. "Why?" You asked curiously, fully turning around on the stairs. "They're expecting Mrs. Wayne." He shot you a wink and gave you one of those signature smiles as he walked away.

He was right. There were a lot more people. The streets leading up to the location were lined completely with camera wielding, and very nosy paparazzi and news anchors. Everyone was hoping to catch a glimpse. This was huge for the press. They probably thought that this day would never come. Bruce Wayne, Gothams millionaire playboy was settling down? Impossible. The moment you stepped out of the car they were all over you. Invading your personal space, shoving cameras and microphones in your face. This was sensational. They wanted to know more about the woman who tightly held Bruce Wayne's heart in her delicate hands.

They had written some pretty bad stuff about Bruce in the past, not that he cared. But when one peticular news article labeled you as just a trophy wife, all hell broke loose. He sued them until bankruptcy. How dare they. How dare they lable his wife, his world, his precious jewel, as just a trophy. You were the light of his life, you loved him and he loved you. He loved you more than they would ever know and he would burn them to the ground if they ever suggested otherwise again. No press had the guts to call you names again, or they would feel the wrath of a very in love Bruce Wayne.

He came to your rescue pretty quickly. Positioning himself between you and the paparazzi, acting as human shield. Bruce gently placed a hand on the small of your back and pushed you through the doors. You let out a breath you didn't know you held.

"Jesus, do they not have better things to do.." you mumbled, hooking your arm with his. "This is their job, so no, Honey." He grinned. You rolled your eyes at him. You knew that, but did they have to be so obnoxious? If they asked nicely maybe you would actually answer some of their absurd questions. You made your way into the center of the room where the upper class of Gotham was already mingling with a glass of very expensive champagne in hand.

Bruce couldn't stop glancing over at you. The floor length, satin gown was tailored to perfection, showing of your body in the best way. The rose necklace sat nicely around your neck, sparkling under the bright light of the many chandeliers. Your hair was in an updo, showing off your earrings perfectly as they lightly swaying as you walked. Your soft hands were decorated with the many rings he had showered you with, the extravagant engagement band catching everyone's eye.

God, you looked so elegant on his arm, almost floating along the granite floor. The bright smile on your lips melted his heart as you greeted people. Unimportant people, if you ask him. "You look absolutely beautiful, my love," he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning over your neck, sending a chill down your spine.

"You flatter me, Darling. I'm glad you wore this suit, it's my favorite," you gently ran your hand down his chest. It too, was tailored just right. His heart beat faster. He didn't know you had a favorite suit. One that you longed to see him wear because it just made him look that good. "What's this Gala for anyway?" You asked, toying with the lapel of his jacket.

"Oh, you know, just some... charity," he responded with a breathy laugh. You raised your eyebrows at him. Your eyes widened in realization and a knowing smirk made its way on your pretty face. "Did you plan this whole thing just to show me off?" You questioned amused. He stumbled over his words, a very rare occurrence.

"What? Of course not, Honey, that-that'd be absurd-" you interrupted him by pressing a finger over his lips. "Fine. Let them see. Let them see how much I love you." You whispered, smashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. One hand was on the back of his neck, keeping him close to you, the other was steadied on his chest. His hands instinctively snaked around your middle, holding you tightly.

All eyes were on you, hushed whispers and gasps filling the room. You pulled away, chest heaving. Bruce's pupils were dilated. "God, you're perfect..." he whispered breathlessly. He couldn't wait to leave this stupid event and shower you in his affection.

The Gala was a success and you were finally back at the manor. You were standing in front of the mirror in your bedroom and admired yourself one last time before you'd take it all off. Bruce came up behind you, the jacket of his suit discarded and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, trailing kisses along your exposed skin. You let out a breathy laugh. "Look who's eager now," you teased.

Bruce chuckled against your neck. "Can you blame me when you look like that?" He said lowly. He dragged his hands up your back and slowly pulled the zipper to your dress down. With a gentle brush of his hand, he let the dress slip off your shoulders and onto the floor. You were left in nothing but your panties, which quickly joined your gown and the floor as he pushed them down your plush hips.

"You're a little overdressed, don't you think?" You said softly, yet seductively as he continued placing wet kisses along your bare shoulder and neck. "You tell me, Honey," he answered. The taste of your skin was intoxicating. You turned around, putting your hands on his chest and slowly pushing him towards the bed. When the back of his thighs hit the bed, he sat down, pulling you into his lap.

"I think you are," you mumbled hazily, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the ground. You moved your hips over his hard cock, straining against his pants. A low groan erupted from his throat at your actions. You could feel your wetness dripping from you, leaving a wet patch on his crotch. He pulled you in for a desperate kiss as you reached down to unbuckle his belt and slip off his pants.

Bruce was left in his boxers, which were quickly taken care of. His throbbing cock sprung free, hitting his stomach. You took his dick into your ring clad hand and pumped up and down a few times, making his head fall back. "Fuck, Baby..." he groaned, squeezing your hips. Lifting your hips, you lined his length up with your pussy and sank down onto it, a long moan falling from your lips. "G-God.. you fit so well. It's like you were made for me.." you mumbled out, your hands finding their place on his shoulders. He was made for you, he was sure of it. He was yours, until the end.

He moaned out your name when you started moving your hips, which he guided with his hands. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, occasionally tugging and pulling at it. Bruce looked up at you as you bounced on his cock. Your beautiful face was contorted in pleasure, and the jewelry he had bought you still adorned you so nicely. There was a layer of sweat covering your skin, making you shine. Just like your necklace glistened in the dimly lit room. You looked like a Goddess above him, decorated with delicate pieces of jewelry. Jewelry he bought for you.

God, he wasn't sure he wanted to fuck you another way ever again. Your ring was cold against his skin, reminding him that you were his. For him to take, however he pleased. He would buy every diamond in Gotham if it meant having a sight like this before him. Your hips started moving faster, as you moaned. "Shit...M'getting c-close," you breathed out, letting your head fall against his shoulder.

He was almost upset at you for taking away his privilege of admiring you, but he never got the chance once he heard your cute little moans and whines right beside his ear. "Me too, Honey, keep going.." he panted. You pressed your body to his, your tits sitting beautifully against his chest. Bruce glanced down and saw the curves of your soft tits adorned with the stunning necklace.

It molded to their curve so perfectly, making him tighten the grip on your hips, frantically moving you up and down his cock. He chased his release, your warm, wet walls feeling too good. You gasped as his dick hit that one that that made your head spin. "Oh fuck, I can't wait to call you my husband.." you rambled out, barely registering what you'd confessed.

That pushed him over the edge as he shot his load inside you with a guttural groan, filling you up. Your husband. That was music to his ears. That's all he wants, to be yours, to be loved by you. You clenched around him and came with a cry of his name. Panting, you pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "Did you mean that?" He asked quietly, kneading the flesh of your hips.

"Did I mean what?" You asked, breathing heavily. Bruce hestitated, letting out a nervous chuckle. "That you can't wait to call me your husband."

"Oh.. I did. I love you so much, Sweetheart. More than you'll ever know. My heart is yours, Bruce," you said softly, stroking his cheek. "I love you too, Honey." He responded, kissing you passionately.

"I'll draw us a bath," you breathed, raking your fingers through his locks. He hummed in response, reluctantly letting go of you. You slipped off his cock. He watched his cum trickling down your thigh as you walked towards the bathroom. He groaned at the sight, falling back onto the bed with a smile.

Bruce was laying with his head against your chest, surrounded by bubbles and soap. His back was pressed to your front and your hands were wrapped around him. You could feel him relax against you, the tension in his shoulders fading. "I keep them, you know," you said softly from behind him. The water rippled as he turned his head to look at you.

"Keep what?" He asked. "The notes. The ones you always place next to my gifts? I keep all of them," you spoke, tracing patterns on his pecs. "You do?" He smiled. "Yeah, I read them when you're gone and I'm feeling sad. They're in a box in my nightstand." You mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you so much, Honey," he said quietly. "I love you more, Bruce."

From that moment on, he put more effort into his notes. They keep getting longer and longer, almost turning into letters as he confessed his love to you every single day. You would still read them when you're old and gray, because his love for you would never fade. Just like how your love for him would never be lost to time, you would love him until the end, continuing in your next life. Your souls and hearts were bound, and they would never stop searching until they found eachother once again.

❤️◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇💍◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇❤️

[failing-to-write-again]

What would it be like waking up with Shu, Reiji, or Ruki?

So sorry I didn't see this Tumblr did not send me a notification!

But thank you for the ask and I will answer all three!!!

Under the cut because my writing is long and I might be mildly suggestive but nothing explicit!

Shu

I imagine waking with Shu would feel like a Saturday morning in Winter, where the heating is on and your bed is so warm and outside it's a cool snowy light.

Rolling over and feeling the slight chill of the vampire, his chest cool but the arm you slept on warmed by your body heat.

I think Shu, as a more subtle romantic, would enjoy like sleeping naked or at least shirtless with you. While throwing perverted comments around to deflect from showing his true sappy side, yet never actually going further then running his fingers along your spine as he holds you against himself slowly heating up.

Hearing him deeply inhale and stir as he feels your movement, eyes opening slightly and smiling before nuzzling between the pillows and your hair. A grumble of protest at having been disturbed.

If it is a weekend or holiday you give in easily resettling into the peaceful feeling of simple having skin contact with someone so intimately. Shu lifting the covers to cover you more as goosebumps cover your body slightly due to his lower body temperature.

A personal head cannon is that after you began to have an actual close relationship he would have servants bring hot water bottles to your room close to bed so you didn't have to be as effected by his chill. However by morning the once warm devices are now useless, yet he's less cold after a night of having you next to him.

Eventually you may try coax him awake. As he hides himself against your neck, feeling him voice complaints in a gravelly morning voice against your skin.

"My princess is so pushy, just rest order the servants to do the stupid errands. They're yours now."

Reiji

Reiji could go one of two ways depending on the day. A busy day or a holiday. Either way I think his room would feel fresh but still warm to wake in.

On the average day Reiji wakes you either accidentally as he gets dressed and ready for the day, or with a drink and some breakfast delivered personally to your room. He claims it's to prevent your morning mood effecting the household but it is actually to just keep you to himself a moment longer even if it's while you're both busy preparing for a long day ahead.

He runs his fingers through your hair to wake you, slowly massaging your scalp. You'd be surprised that it doesn't put you deeper asleep.

On the rare days he doesn't feel the need to wake as early he's sensual and soft. Rare for someone as prim and proper as him.

It's canon from the sleeping with a vampire audios that Reiji wears silk pajamas and bed sheets with high quality mattresses. I see him ordering you matching pajamas and night dresses in similar designs to his and he secretly waits until you get yours on before changing. He refused to admit when he's sweet. He melts when you sleep in his shirt after nightly romps in the sheets.

Ever the leading partner, you wake up being spooned by him either facing him or with you back against his chest and his face buried in your hair. You used to worry about it irritating him at first until one night you felt him nuzzle against it intentionally as he smelt the shampoo you had recently used.

Like Shu I feel he would do things to motivate the temperature difference. However maybe an electric blanket or a potion that will last the entire night.

Deepest as morning voice, grainy too completely unlike his firm even tone when awake. It's a personal side only you see. And forget Shu being the lazy one when Reiji has the time to sleep in with you. The man is begging for 5 more minutes.

"My love, stay...hm? Need a drink? I left one on the nightstand. ... You can't reach it?... Cruel woman treating your lover like this."

Ruki

Ruki's room must smell like candles and new books. A nice toasty feeling to wake to.

Clingy is the best way to describe how I feel he sleeps. So scared you may slip through his fingers or leave like others before, Ruki holds you close as you sleep.

I imagine he sleeps on his stomach due to having to sleep like that for so long after he initially got the scars on his back. His arm around your waist and head turned to rest abobe your shoulder.

The exception being when he reads a book to help you sleep. You lay, head against his chest or in his lap as he sits against a pile of pillows. You wake to his head against yours and the book left open on his lap as his arms encircle you.

Ever the slight sadist, on days you need to be up faster he might lightly pinch your sides to wake you. Chuckling as you squirm and complain at the rude awakening. Kissing you forehead in apology.

During nights where he has particularly bad nightmares you may have to wake him. Holding him against your chest and brushing through his hair as you comfort him best you can. You don't know when you both nod back off but you wake the next day to him still there resting more peaceful than ever. That being said night terrors have decreased drastically since you began to share a bed.

After you both wake up properly he holds you in his lap as you discuss your plans for the day. He takes his time laying kisses along your shoulders and down your sternum, a personal good luck ritual that makes the day a little easier to begin.

"Hm... where do you think your going? I assume like me you don't want to leave my side yet. Especially with those fingers tracing along my body. How shameless."

[muiitoloko]

The General’s Soft Side

Summary: Frank Benson may be a grumpy ex-lieutenant general, but fatherhood—and a dancing five-year-old—reveals a tenderness even war couldn’t shake.

Pairing: Frank Benson × Fem! Reader & Oc

Warnings: None

Also read on Ao3

It was the kick to his ribs that did it. A solid, determined thud right against his side, and Frank Benson awoke with a groan that could’ve rattled the windows. He blinked once, then twice, the room still draped in darkness save for the soft glow of the digital clock on the nightstand blinking 00:00. Midnight.

Of course it was. He didn’t need to look. He already knew who the tiny saboteur was. Still, Frank turned his head, scowling through the shadows.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, his baritone voice gravelly with sleep, “what do you want, gremlin?”

Thomas—five years old and apparently part nocturnal creature—lay sprawled like a tiny king in the middle of the bed, his stuffed dinosaur tucked under one arm, the other arm casually resting against Frank’s chest like he owned the place. Hazel eyes blinked up at him with eerie alertness.

“I want to talk,” Thomas declared, voice far too chirpy for someone who should be deeply unconscious at this hour.

Frank exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. “No, you don’t,” he said flatly, turning his back to the boy, inching toward your side of the bed with every intention of resuming the very nice dream he had been having—which had involved silence, a large armchair, and absolutely no children.

“I do,” Thomas insisted, wriggling closer. “I had a dream. About dinosaurs.”

Frank grunted in reply and buried his face in your shoulder. You were blissfully asleep, warm and soft and completely unaware of the war being waged on your mattress.

“Go to sleep,” Frank mumbled into your hair, one arm snaking possessively around your waist. “Dream about them again if it’s that bloody important.”

Thomas ignored him entirely, of course. He sat up—sat up—as if midnight was the ideal time for a fireside chat.

“There was a big one,” he began, voice full of dramatic flair. “With teeth. And it went RAAAAAWR!”

Frank’s only response was a pained groan and a tug of the blanket over his head.

“And then there was a baby one,” Thomas continued, undeterred. “And he was hungry. So he ate a leaf. And then the big one tried to eat him, but I saved him! I had a sword. It was on fire. And I stabbed the big dinosaur right in the bum!”

Frank peeked one eye out from beneath the covers, his expression a mixture of sleep-deprivation and disbelief. “What is wrong with you?”

Thomas beamed, utterly pleased with himself. “It was really cool.”

At that, the boy flopped dramatically between his parents, making a nest of the blankets and pillows as he rolled onto his back. Frank grumbled, adjusting his position as he was now completely separated from your warmth—his son’s tiny, icy feet pressing against his stomach.

“This is why I used to sleep with a gun under my pillow,” Frank muttered into the darkness. “If anyone had told me I’d be taken down by a bloody five-year-old…”

“I’m not five,” Thomas said instantly.

“You’re exactly five.”

“I’m almost six.”

Frank snorted. “Not until August, you’re not.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Thomas whispered, “Daddy?”

Frank closed his eyes, long-suffering. “What, lad?”

“Do you think dinosaurs ever got tired of roaring?”

Frank sighed again, already regretting everything. “No. Because they were dinosaurs. They didn’t think. They just… roared. Ate things. Died.”

Thomas pondered that for a second. “That’s sad.”

“Yes, well. Welcome to life.”

The room fell blissfully silent, and Frank allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Finally. Peace. For exactly four seconds.

“Daddy?”

Frank’s eye twitched. He opened one eye, slowly. “No.”

“But—”

“No,” Frank repeated, voice firmer this time, baritone thick with warning. “We are not talking about dinosaurs. We are not talking about butts. And we are definitely not talking about flaming swords.”

A beat of silence. Frank dared to hope.

“But what if the sword wasn’t on fire? What if it was fire?”

Frank groaned, sitting up with a grunt. “That’s it.”

He threw the covers off with dramatic flair, causing a small flurry of cool air to sweep across the bed. Thomas blinked at him, wide-eyed, as Frank stood in the faint glow of the nightlight, looking like the most exhausted man alive. White hair tousled, pajama shirt unbuttoned halfway, and his hooked nose casting a long shadow over his face, Frank looked like a general facing his final, most chaotic battlefield: fatherhood.

“Come on,” he muttered, grabbing his phone off the nightstand. “You’ve got too much bloody energy. Let’s burn it off.”

Thomas lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?!”

“Quiet!” Frank hissed, glancing back at you.

But you didn’t stir. Still curled under the duvet, one hand beneath your cheek, your breathing soft and even. Blissfully unaware of the madness unfolding beside you.

Frank sighed. “Unbelievable.”

Thomas scrambled out of bed, bouncing on his toes as he followed his father down the hallway like an eager duckling. Frank led him into the living room, the dim lamp in the corner casting a soft golden hue across the hardwood floor.

Frank tapped a few things on his phone, muttering to himself. “Macarena,” he said, like it was a military command.

Thomas blinked. “What’s that?”

Frank didn’t answer. Instead, he set the phone on the coffee table, music already blaring from its speaker.

"Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena..."

The unmistakable beat filled the room.

And then Frank—Lieutenant General Frank Benson, Order of the Bath, retired war strategist, wielder of dry sarcasm and British stoicism—lifted his arms.

“One, two, three—right, follow me.”

He began to dance. Slowly, awkwardly, but with the kind of commitment that made up for any lack of rhythm. Arms out. Palms up. Shoulder shimmy. Hips—unfortunately—also involved.

Thomas squealed with laughter and immediately copied him, mirroring every move with uncoordinated enthusiasm.

“One! Two! Three! Hands behind your head! Shake your bum!” Frank instructed, barking the steps like he was commanding troops, even as he wobbled through them.

Thomas was breathless with laughter. “This is the best mission ever!”

Frank snorted. “Don’t tell your mum.”

They danced through the chorus, both of them flailing and spinning like two lunatics on sugar, Thomas trying to keep up, Frank secretly enjoying himself far more than he’d admit.

And upstairs, your eyes fluttered open. You sat up slowly, the cold side of the bed registering first. Frank was gone. So was Thomas. You listened. No yelling. No crying.

No… wait.

Music?

You blinked and followed the faint beat, dragging the duvet with you as you padded down the hallway. You reached the living room doorway—and stopped dead.

Frank was mid-spin, hazel eyes wide in mock alarm as he nearly tripped over his own foot. Thomas was howling with laughter, his arms flailing wildly in an off-tempo macarena of his own design.

They hadn’t noticed you yet. Frank, flushed from exertion, was now panting slightly, cheeks red and hair sticking up at odd angles. He looked ridiculous. Completely undignified.

And it was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen.

Your voice broke the spell. “...What on earth am I looking at?”

Frank froze.

Thomas gasped. “Mummy!”

Frank turned slowly, one arm still extended mid-dance. His face was blank. “This is not what it looks like.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

Thomas piped up, dancing in place. “We’re doing the macaroni!”

Frank exhaled heavily. “Macarena, lad.”

You leaned against the doorframe, smiling despite yourself. “Franklin Benson, it’s one o’clock in the morning.”

Frank put his hands on his hips, baritone grumbling, “Don’t look at me. He kicked me in the ribs and wanted to talk about prehistoric arson.”

Thomas nodded proudly. “And Daddy said we’d burn off energy!”

Frank crossed his arms, still breathing hard. “Which we’ve done. Mission complete.”

Thomas threw his arms around his father’s waist. “I love you, Daddy!”

Frank huffed, trying to look annoyed, but his fingers threaded gently through Thomas’s hair. “Yeah, yeah. Go hug your mum before she gives me that look again.”

You shook your head, stepping forward and gathering your son in your arms, planting a kiss on his messy curls. “Both of you are insane.”

Frank shrugged. “You married me, love. There’s no going back now.”

And as the last beats of the Macarena faded into the quiet hum of the house, you stood there in the soft glow of the lamp, watching your men—one white-haired and grumpy, the other small and uncontainably joyful—and smiled.

You wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Thomas, flushed and breathless from his improvised performance, was practically vibrating with energy. His small hands clutched yours and Frank’s as he looked between you both with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Let’s dance more!” he declared, eyes gleaming. “Please, please, please? One more time!”

You gently began to shake your head, voice soft but firm. “Sweetheart, it’s late. You’ve got class in the morning—”

“But Mummy, I’m not tired!” Thomas insisted, bouncing on his toes like a wind-up toy. “Just one more time, I promise! I’ll go to bed after!”

You glanced at Frank for backup—surely the lieutenant general would enforce some order in the chaos—but all you got was an exaggerated shrug and a low, amused mutter: “You’re on your own, love.”

Traitor.

Thomas tugged on your hand, swaying dramatically to the side. “Please?”

You sighed, glancing toward the clock, which now read 1:09 AM. Ridiculous. Irresponsible. And completely impossible to resist.

“Oh, fine,” you groaned, already laughing as Thomas let out a victorious squeal. “One more. That’s it.”

Frank didn’t even try to hide the smirk spreading across his face as he watched you surrender.

“Play it again, Daddy!” Thomas cried, practically vibrating in place.

Frank obediently tapped his phone, and the unmistakable beat of Macarena flooded the living room once more.

You rolled your eyes and took your place beside your son, watching as he stood proud at the front, arms lifted like a tiny conductor about to lead an orchestra.

“Okay!” Thomas shouted over the music. “Ready? Arms out! Now do like this! One—two—three!”

You followed his movements, matching his mismatched rhythm as best you could. It was disorganized chaos, complete with offbeat clapping and misaligned hip sways—but it was glorious. You glanced sideways at Frank, who, despite himself, had joined in again, looking as stiff as a man doing forced cardio in a hostage video, but still gamely following his son’s lead.

“You’re not bad, old man,” you teased over the music, nudging him with your elbow as you swayed your hips side to side.

Frank shot you a dry look. “Please. I’ve been humiliating myself like this since ’97.”

You blinked, surprised, laughter bubbling up as you spun with him. “Wait, wait—you actually know this dance? Where the hell did you learn to do the Macarena?”

Frank’s hazel eyes flicked toward the floor for a moment, and then, softly, he replied, “My first wife. My late wife.”

Your breath caught, just slightly. Frank rarely talked about her. You’d pieced together small things—she’d passed before you met, the loss had been devastating, and there were photos of her in a box he never opened. But he didn’t share much. He guarded her memory with the same steel he once used in war.

You kept dancing, your movements slowing just a little, as you turned to face him more fully.

“She taught you the Macarena?” you asked, your voice quieter now beneath the music.

Frank nodded, eyes distant for a moment. “She loved it. Would blast that bloody song during cleaning. Or laundry. Or whenever she felt like it, really. Said it was impossible to be sad when dancing like an idiot.”

You smiled, watching him more than the dance now. “She was right.”

“Mm,” Frank hummed, his baritone low and fond. “She’d drag me into it. Claimed I had no rhythm but insisted I do it anyway.” He paused, then added with the faintest smile, “Said my arms flopped around like a dying squid.”

You laughed softly, imagining it, imagining the younger version of Frank—white hair probably not white yet, still rigid and rule-bound—being pulled into dance by a woman who didn’t care about his stiffness, who just wanted to make him move.

“She sounds like she was lovely,” you said, gently.

“She was,” he murmured. “Still is. In my head, anyway.”

The moment stretched between you, filled with music and soft shadows, until Thomas’s voice cut through again with unrelenting cheer.

“Okay! Now spin, and shake, and—whoa! Mummy! Daddy! Look at me!”

You and Frank both turned to watch him do a spin so enthusiastic he nearly toppled backward. You caught him just in time, both of you laughing as he scrambled back upright.

Frank leaned in a little, voice low as he watched Thomas dance around the room like a pint-sized lunatic. “He’s got her energy,” he said quietly. “Yours, too. Poor lad never stood a chance.”

You leaned into him, your arm brushing his, your body still moving with the rhythm.

“He’s lucky,” you said.

Frank looked down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he smiled. A quiet, worn-in smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes but was real just the same.

“I’m the lucky one.”

And just like that, the music played on, and the three of you danced—imperfect, out of sync, and joyful.

It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t elegant.

But in that little living room, in the middle of the night, with your sleepy boy spinning and laughing and your husband swaying beside you, it was perfect.

Thomas finally ran out of steam. After nearly an hour of spinning, stomping, and shouting instructions like a miniature drill sergeant, he collapsed sideways onto the couch mid-sentence, his tiny chest rising and falling in the soft, steady rhythm of deep sleep.

You and Frank stood there, still catching your breath, sweat clinging lightly to your skin as the room fell into a peaceful hush.

Frank stepped forward first. He tugged a throw blanket off the back of the couch and gently draped it over Thomas’s little body. Then, he crouched down beside him—slowly, with that little wince he always made when his knees reminded him of his age—and reached out, stroking his son's back with a careful tenderness that didn’t match the grumbling soldier he so often pretended to be.

His large, chubby hand moved in slow circles over the boy’s pajama shirt, hazel eyes soft with a faraway kind of fondness, the kind of look that only came from someone who’d once believed he’d never have this. That this—this home, this little family, this kind of quiet joy—wasn’t meant for him.

You leaned against the wall, arms folded gently across your chest, and just… watched him. Frank Benson, your white-haired, hooked-nosed, slightly grumpy husband, crouched beside the couch like a guardian at a shrine, as if the sight of his sleeping son was the most sacred thing in the world.

After a long moment, you stepped closer, voice quiet. “Did you dance to any other songs with her?”

Frank didn’t look up right away. His hand paused on Thomas’s back, fingers resting gently against the blanket as if grounding himself. Then he nodded, lips twitching into a small, almost sheepish smile.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “A few. She liked—” He paused, chuckled softly. “She liked anything that made me look ridiculous.”

You smiled. “So… all music, then.”

That earned you a quiet snort. “Bloody hilarious, you are.”

He finally looked up, meeting your eyes. There was something warm in his gaze—no sadness, no ghosts—just the quiet comfort of remembering something good and choosing to share it.

“There was one in particular,” he said, slowly pushing himself to his feet with a grunt. “Brazilian song. Played it nonstop for about a year. Drove me bloody mad at the time, but…” He reached for his phone, flipping through his music with practiced ease. “I think I still like it.”

You arched a brow, curious. “Brazilian?”

He gave you a sideways glance as he tapped the screen. “Yeah. Lambada, by Kaoma. You'll know it when you hear it.”

A second later, the opening notes filled the living room. That unmistakable rhythm—sultry, nostalgic, infectious. It was music made for bodies, made for bare feet and swaying hips and too-warm nights where everything smelled like fruit and sea salt.

Frank extended a hand toward you, half-smiling. “Dance with me, love.”

You laughed softly. “You want to Lambada? Now?”

“In my defense,” he murmured, voice low, amused, “I did just survive the Macarena. This is practically dignified in comparison.”

You hesitated for only a second before taking his hand, letting him pull you close. Frank’s hands—big and warm and a little calloused—settled instinctively at your waist, his movements a little stiff at first, but he found the rhythm quickly.

The music swirled around you both, seductive and alive, and suddenly, the dim living room didn’t feel like a domestic space anymore. It felt like a summer night in another country, another time.

Frank's hips moved against yours with surprising grace, his hazel eyes locked onto yours with the kind of intensity that always made your breath catch.

“You’re better at this than you let on,” you murmured, your hands slipping up to rest against his chest.

He gave a low chuckle, baritone rich and fond. “Don't sound so surprised. I had to learn to keep up with her. And now you.”

He twirled you—awkwardly, adorably—and pulled you back in, catching you by the waist and swaying with you like the song had been written just for this moment.

Your body fit perfectly against his, and when his hooked nose brushed lightly against your temple, you felt the smile forming on his lips.

“You smell like sweat and baby shampoo,” you teased.

Frank leaned in, his voice a low rasp in your ear. “You smell like heaven and trouble.”

You laughed against him, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. “You old flirt.”

He grinned, baring that wolfish little smirk he only gave you. “Damn right.”

The music played on, your bare feet brushing against the hardwood as he guided you through the rhythm—not perfectly, but with heart, with laughter, with that kind of intimate, slow-burning joy that only comes after years of storms and scars.

When the song finally ended, neither of you moved. You just stood there, arms wrapped around each other, the silence wrapping around you like the echo of a heartbeat.

Frank kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

“I love you,” he murmured.

You tilted your head up, smiling as you kissed him back. “I know.”

You both glanced toward the couch, where Thomas slept like the dead, one leg dangling off the edge now.

Frank exhaled, arms still around your waist. “He’s never going to sleep in his own bed again, is he?”

You sighed, resting your head on his chest. “Probably not.”

He groaned, but didn’t let go. “Little gremlin.”

You laughed again, quiet and full. “He takes after his dad.”

Frank scoffed. “God help us.”

And there, in your living room—lit by the soft glow of a forgotten lamp, with Lambada still playing faintly in the background—you and Frank Benson held each other, dancing just a little longer.

[jobrolion]

𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐻𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈

reiner x reader

after a long day driving through the middle of nowhere, you and reiner take a rest at a motel with only one room left...

wc | 2385

ao3 link

After you parked, you shifted into neutral and sighed, staring at the dusty motel sign. To your right, Reiner ran his hand over his face, exhaustion weighing heavy on both of your shoulders.

This coast to coast road trip with your best friend was mostly a good time, but driving through these barren areas proved to be a little more challenging than originally thought. Roads stretched for hours in straight lines, landscape barely changed from cornfield to cornfield, and while it had its beauty, variety was nice.

It was now, after a day of driving, that the two of you sat silently in your car, waiting for the other to say what you were both desperate to hear.

“We should stop, right?” Reiner broke the silence. “I mean we can’t keep going like this, there won’t be another motel for hours. And-”

“I agree.”

You thought that Reiner may have believed you would try to push through this, to keep going until you got out of this wasteland. Even you were not that stupid. 

Shutting off the engine, you pulled the keys out and headed with Reiner into the motel office. The overhead lighting accentuated the off white walls and the dated seating by the windows. A low humming could be heard over the television in a back room. 

You reached the counter and rang the bell, pulling out your wallet while you waited for an old man to round the corner, manning the desk. When he sat you requested two rooms. Two because a night alone was much needed.

“I’m sorry, but you’re out of luck. We’re doing maintenance on some of the rooms, and two are already taken. We’ve only got one room left available.”

You fought the urge to sigh, but couldn’t resist your eyes shutting tightly in displeasure. 

“That’s fine, we’ll take it.”

The air cooled as you were gathering what little belongings you were carrying out of the car and to the door of the motel room. Reiner set his bag on the ground before turning the key in the lock. Nudging the door open, he bent to retrieve his bag, allowing you to see over him and into the room. He looked back when he heard you aggressively exhale. There was no reason to contain your frustration now.

There was only one, small bed sitting in the middle of the room against the wall.

“Ah shit.” He entered the room, closing the door when you passed him.

“Just our luck, right?”

“I’ll go back and ask for more blankets and a pillow, I can sleep on the floor.” He knew you’d protest so he continued, “You were the one driving all day, you should get the bed.”

“You know, you say I’m stubborn, but you’re the same as me, Reiner.”

“A stubborn little shit?”

You laughed, “Something like that.” 

Despite the label of best friends, your feelings toward Reiner swayed towards romance. That’s not to say you didn’t value your friendship, quite the opposite. The only reason you felt this way was because of how strong your relationship had grown. You would never make a move and you were certain of that, but you may not get this chance again. So you gave yourself one more moment to think, then spoke.

“We could always share the bed. I promise I won’t steal the blanket.”

“Are you sure? I want you to be comfortable.” For some reason, Reiner couldn’t meet your eye.

“If you would be, so would I.”

Reiner let you use the bathroom to get ready first so when you finished you sat on your chosen side of the bed with a book. Though you couldn't begin to read. Your nerves were getting the best of you now, and your mind swarmed with thoughts of him.Thoughts of how you knew his chest looked under his shirt. Knowing how cute his hair looks when it's messy, how you know it will be in the morning. 

You slammed the book closed when he walked out of the bathroom, dressed in sweat shorts and a loose fitting t-shirt. He seemed amused when you startled.

“You good?” 

“Mhm. I’m ready for bed, though.”

“That we can agree on.” God. His voice was low and tired.

You lifted the covers for him to get in, earning you a smile. 

“I’m sorry today turned out so…” 

“Horrible?” You offered.

“Yeah. I didn’t offer much of a distraction, I was kinda in my own head.”

“I wasn’t up for much talking either. We just needed to get through the day, I think. Tomorrow will be better.”

Reiner hummed in agreement, holding out the palm of his hand. You smacked it and grinned.

“That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy any of today.” He said.

Reiner’s demeanor changed. His head tilted slightly to the side and his eyelids lowered over softening eyes.

“Tell me, what was there to enjoy?”

“You.” 

Now it was the atmosphere that changed. The crickets that were once heard outside quieted until only stilted breaths that were heard. 

“I-”

He interrupted you, whispered your name, then asked, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Reiner did not hesitate before locking his lips with yours. Years of pent up emotion bubbled to the surface as he gently cradled your face. 

He pulled back for a moment, catching his breath and looking you over, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. He found none. In fact, he was met with hungry eyes and your wandering hands finding their way into his short hair. 

As much as you both wanted to keep kissing each other, it was too much to pull away from the moment. After so long left yearning you could now look into each other's eyes with genuine emotion and an understanding that the other felt the same way.

Reiner’s hand moved to your knee, squeezing you twice before curling around the back of your mid thigh. You made the move to pick up where you left off, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth before diving into an open and messy kiss.

His tongue ran along yours, head moving in sync with yours, hands straining to learn each other’s bodies, and pulled ever closer until you were straddling his thighs. He waited to pull you flush with his crotch, breaking the kiss and holding your waist to steady you.

The hem of Reiner’s shirt felt thin to your fingers, though it was oversized you could make out the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders. There was no giving in to your anxieties any longer, you were too far gone for that. So you gave the shirt a tug and he nodded, kissing your cheek, breaking away only for you to pull the material over his head.

The sight was not new, but it felt as if it was. You could no longer hide the lust behind your features, letting your mouth part slightly under shadowed eyes. Your hands roamed what bare skin you could find, savoring every inch of it. 

Finally, you closed the distance, pressing yourself to his clothed dick. Through the thick sweat shorts you could feel him, hard and wanting. Now it was his turn to disrobe your upper half, leaving you bare chested, the chill air and the stimulation hardening your nipples as Reiner stared. He could not hide the licking of his lips as he brought his hands up and cupped your breasts. 

His was the first moan of the night. Forehead now resting against your shoulder, he massaged you, hands occasionally wandering off to trace your waist or run his short fingernails gently down your back.

You ground down on him, letting out a moan of your own at the contact. Your clit throbbed with anticipation. With a hand on either side of his head, you pulled Reiner’s face away from your neck and kissed him hard, moving his hand from your breast down to your waistband. He wasted no time reaching into your pants and a sense of relief washed over him when he felt how wet you were. It was no small feat overcoming his self doubt and insecurity, but feeling how ready and willing and wanting you already were for him, every single negative thought fled from his mind as he refocused on his task. 

His thick fingers swept the length of you and pressed inside, reveling in the lewd moan you released. When he decided you were ready, he added another finger, pumping them in and out of you, curling them steadily to make you feel so, so good. Your gasping grew louder and your groaning more frequent, so he pressed his thumb to your clit and rubbed hard and slow circles on it. 

“Reiner, please, please. I’m so so so-” Your words almost turned to laughs as you came on his hands, moaning when he removed them. He stared at you in awe until you looked up at him. When you did, he made a show of bringing his fingers to his mouth, drawing attention to his long tongue cleaning your cum from his hand.

“It’s your turn now, big man.” 

At your words his hips jolted into yours and he gripped your ass to keep you there for a moment longer before you pulled off of him completely. You stood to strip everything off. Reiner removed the last of his clothing clumsily on the bed, desperate for you to come back to him.

“Wait.” As you started back, he called your name. “Turn for me.”

Your face split in a huge grin before a shy look took over your features. Arms down, palms facing the floor, you turned slowly, trying desperately to look sexy. Though nothing you could have done wouldn't have looked sexy to him.

“Now come back here, baby.”

You did as he asked you, taking his outstretched hand and kneeling beside where he sat. 

“Hey.”

Reiner responded in kind. “You want this too?”

You nodded, but he still expected an answer. “I do. So much.”

With that, he pulled on your legs so you could easily lay down in the center of the bed, leaning back on your elbows while he took his turn straddling you. His hands roamed the extent of you, giving special attention to every inch before moving to sit between your legs. Your reflex was to shy away, to bring your legs together, but when he kissed the side of your knee, you found yourself relaxing, and let your head fall back onto the pillow. 

Reiner kneeled with his knees on either side of your ass and brought your legs up to squeeze his waist. With you having been prepped and wet already, he looked down at your cunt, shiny and waiting. He wouldn’t dare delay the pleasure for either of you. With one hand he lined himself up with your slit, the other held your hand, fingers intertwined with yours. He made eye contact and with a breath out he pushed in. 

He was met with little resistance, when there was some, he simply pulled back out and slowly made his way back in, bottoming out on the second try. At this point, Reiner could no longer hold back the sounds of his pleasure. He would grunt and groan, call out your name and whisper profanities all in the name of you. 

You felt like you had ascended. All the time in the world had stopped and it was only the two of you in this room that had this moment all to yourselves. The sight above you was enough to finish you off then and there. The debauched look on Reiner's face sent you spinning. Your hand not wrapped around his found its way into his hair, messing it up more than it already had been. His eyes wouldn’t dare close for the thought of being without you would ruin the moment. 

Now both of his hands gripped your waist, bringing your hips forward to meet his thrusts. The lewd sound of skin slapping skin filled the dimly lit motel room and were met with the sounds of whimpers and moans that accompanied it.

“Reiner.” He loved the way you whined his name. “I’m so close.”

“Me too.” And you loved the way he whined yours. 

He pushed himself to be completely on top of you now, arms bracing himself on either side of your head as he thrust into you, picking up speed. His eyes traded roaming your face to glance down between the two of you to where his body disappeared into yours.

You cradled his face now, bringing him down so you could press his forehead to yours. Reiner reached down to rub on your clit, bringing you ever closer to your peak. He was so close himself, but he refused to come before you.

You repeated his name and your previous sentiment, gripping onto his shoulders as he told you to come. That’s all it took for you to completely come undone. You came on Reiner’s cock and trembled beneath him, hips jerking with overstimulation. 

Reiner’s mouth was now at your ear, whispering your name and gods. His hips bucked into your frantically, chasing that same high. When that rope started to snap, he pulled out, gripping his dick tightly and pumping it as he came on your stomach. You watched him, enraptured.

When he finished, he sat back on his knees, head hung while he caught his breath. You rose and pulled his face to your neck, one hand on the back of his head, the other around his back as you laid down with him. 

Reiner came back from the bathroom with a damp towel and set to work cleaning you up, spending more time than he needed to on your most intimate areas before throwing it to the side and moving to lay with you once more. Your mouth opened and closed, words coming and going before you had the courage to say them.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He started when he sensed your hesitation.

“I think we should. Because…” You sighed in relief. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Likewise.” Reiner kissed your forehead sweetly. “Because I think I love you.”

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Movie Nights Headcanons With BF!Dean

✨ Dean Winchester x fellowhunter!Reader ✨

Minors! Get out of here! Please and thank you!

COOOOONTENT: definitely 18+ (a tiddly bit of spice) but very cute

A/N: reader’s supposed to be cis/fem BUUUT headcanons only mention “girl” a few times? I’m working on my spicy gender neutral skills I’ll get there I swear

Oh also!!! I made my own icons, super proud 😌

And please! Feel free to leave notes! They literally make my day!

Anyway, let’s get this party started!

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

-movie nights at the bunker are few and far between, because, you know, hunting is exhausting

-however, when they do happen, they’re the best thing in the whole wide world

-let me explain

-once you started dating Dean and moved into the bunker, some changes had to be made

-you had gotten a cute sofa for the Dean cave, somewhere for the both of you to sit because all that had been in there before you moved in was two dingy chairs

-at first Dean had protested in the sofa saying that it was “too girly”

-but you know how dads are with the pet that they never wanted??

-that’s Dean and the sofa

-so once you guys get comfy with your favorite snacks and drinks, you snuggled up sitting crisscross in the corner

-he’ll lay with his head in your lap, letting his bow legs rest on the opposite arm rest.

-he really loves laying on your thighs. This can be taken as you want it to.

-they really are his favorite pillows

-they’re just so squishyyy

-anyway

-he loves when you play with his short hair. It’s really comforting to him, and he really enjoys it

-this may or may not come from his love of you pulling it when he’s being a munch

-rom coms are his guilty pleasure. He’s a sucker for Rambo and Top Gun. Also Back To The Future. Ofc he likes his horror movies too. Won’t make you watch anything you are uncomfortable with.

-might try to grumble when you pick, but if you give him some puppy dog eyes he’ll shut up real quick

-he’s sugar sweet when he’s sleepy. No more defenses or cool guy wit, just Dean saying a lot of I love yous and being the fluffiest biggest stuffed animal of a man

-tends to fall asleep in your lap

-if he doesn’t fall asleep he’s always chatting with you about literally whatever shows up in his pretty little head or talking to the movie

-“who fumbles reese witherspoon?” said with full indignation (about legally blonde)

-“I think my man Freddie is blind” (about Lainey in she’s all that)

-it’s super cute, especially if it’s after he’s grumbled about watching the movie he’s commenting about

-now (nsfw ahead)

-the thing is

-sometimes this dude wants to watch a movie, but he also wants a specific kind of snack

-yk, one that’s typically… white and sticky? And no I’m not talking about sticky rice

-so if you’re wearing only one of his shirts and your underwear

-and he’s in a mood

-uhhh let’s just say he really gets the munchies

-his legs’ll fall off of the sofa and magically his ass’ll land on top of them

-and oh em gee suddenly he’ll be eating that pussy like he didn’t just take down a whole bowl of popcorn

-and let me tell you, your hands aren’t ever gonna even bother leaving that hair, cause you’re gonna need to hooooold tight

-other times it’s a little different

-maybe you’re being needy while you both want to watch the movie

-so he’ll sit up, take down his pants just a little bit, move your underwear to the side and just sit you there. Keeping his cock nice and warm until the credits.

-cause you wouldn’t wanna be a bad girl (cue jojo siwa) and move on him!

-but sometimes you just can’t help it…

-so he’ll sigh heavily and pause the tv lethargically with great dramatics

-and then he’ll rail you within an inch of your life, as he does (has to make sure his girl is sated and then some 🖤 🎀)

-and hit play like nothing happened, keeping you sat right where you were

-honestly it’s a great time

-oh, also, blankets

-he loves blankets

-it’s his guilty pleasure, he buys them whenever he has some extra (stolen) cash and isn’t with his brother or Cas

-cause obviously they can’t know about his “girly” habits

-but he has so many. Some of them have flannel prints, there’s one with a bunch of Patrick Swayzes, one for every season, fluffy ones, scratchy ones, hand crocheted ones (major brownie points if you can somehow make him one)

-oh and back to snacks

-listen. You can tell him all about how much of a good idea it would be to eat healthy. Bring up all the stats and one of Sam’s famous guilt trips too.

-but all it takes is a pout with those sparkly, gorgeous, mountain-ass green eyes

-and all of a sudden you’re baking brownies together, just because you actually have a second to do normal couple things

-and anyway, brownie batter kisses?? Worth it.

-oh

-and it’s not just movies, sometimes it’s shows

-and I mention this because sometimes those shows are the wiggles. And you know why they’re the wiggles? Cause you two’ll sometimes sneak just a little bit of fun time grass into the brownies

-and the wiggles is just too much fun to watch when you’re uh… seeing sounds and hearing colors

-oh and also giggly high fun time sometimes ensues (WITH THE WIGGLES TURNED O F F you are NOT that blasphemous) (I hope)

-another one of the shows you get him to watch is Gilmore girls.

-he got hooked for three reasons:

1. he loves Luke (and no we don’t know if he loves him or LOVES him) oh and Kirk. He wants to be best friends with Kirk.

2. he’s a sucker for fall vibes. Including pumpkin spice and Halloween, apple cider and ofc his flannels- so naturally stars hollow visually floats his boat

3. he thinks it’s hilarious that some dude named Dean looks exactly like Sam ( 😏)

-oh and bonus- he’s really just a messy bitch who loves the drama and wants Lorelei to be happy

-ofc you two don’t watch your shows as much, movies take priority, but when you do you binge them. Cause who knows when the next time you’ll have time to see them is

-stupid supernatural warfare

-oh and he will always convince you to make a pie with him (NOT the sexual kind) (…sometimes the sexual kind) (🤤)

-sometimes you’ll host family movie nights, have Sam and Charlie and Cas and whoever else is hanging out around the bunker come

-most of the time a movie doesn’t even get chosen but that’s okay cause it’s still fun

-anyway, Dean is a cutie patootie sweetie sugar pie

-oh, and a munch

-I rest my case

-yeah that’s basically it

If you have any ideas for headcanons, send a request! My box is always open!

Xx