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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

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Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #cm writing challenge

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readerstories · 2 months ago

Text

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 2/?

This story is constantly on my mind these days. (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn

Wordcount: 2555

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

After running after Red and failing to catch up, you make some improvised bandages out of some dead guy’s shirt, which you do apologize to him for, it was a nice shirt, not that he can answer you. Maybe there was a med-kit somewhere, but you do not want to start wandering aimlessly around a big warehouse. The cuts on your arms, leg, and face are shallow, but the ones on your stomach and chest will need stitches.

You steal more clothes from some more dead guys, your pants being the only kind of salvageable garment, but it looks better to have pants that don't have a hole in them with three bleeding cuts underneath. You bundle up your ruined clothes, and take them out with you, not a great idea to leave more of yourself behind. There is of course some of your blood on the floor, but you are sure it’s all mixed up with everyone else's, so that won’t matter.

Though all the cars tires are slashed, you are lucky that your ‘boss’ and his rival had a certain ‘style’ they followed, so all of the cars are the same, or similar enough that they use the same wheels. So after a lot of swearing and sweating and bleeding, you can drive one car out, all spare tires. It’s not the best thing, since the movement of switching out the tires pulls at your wounds, but the only other option would have been to walk to a main road and then hitchhike, which would have been a disaster. The fabric making up your bandages has to be switched out after you are done, and you try to pretend it doesn’t worry you about how much blood you’ve lost, and how you are feeling a little woozy as you sit yourself down into the driver's seat.

Also on top of it all you have a headache building, filled with anger, frustration, panic, sadness, and confusion. You are sure the anger is yours, not too sure about everything else though, as your soulmate’s feelings have been mixing in with yours. Sometimes they seem separate, other times they mix so thoroughly that it’s just a mess. You rub your forehead, willing it all away.

It doesn’t work, at all, not that you really thought it would, but a guy can dream.

For now though, you have other things to concentrate on. Such as calling your vet friend Evelyn so you can come to her clinic, and she can stitch you up so you won’t bleed out before seeing your soulmate Red again.

This whole soulmate thing is something you’ve never wanted, but you want to at least talk to him, and agree that the bond is strictly going to be platonic, or rather the closest thing to actual non-existence. Something that you both can learn to ignore and mentally suppress, leaving each other alone until whoever shuffles off this mortal coil firsts severs the connection.

You swear to yourself, hitting the steering wheel a few times, before picking up your phone and dialing Evelyn.

—-------

Ditching your ride is easy enough, you park it a few blocks away from your Evelyn's clinic, and leave the doors unlocked. It will be gone by morning.

Your feet don't feel the steadiest, but if anyone were to look at you, you would just look like another drunk stumbling home from the bar. Seeing the lit sign with the little smiling dog that marks the right place, you slink into the alleyway next to the building. Your fist on the metal door on the side of the building is heavy. Lucky for you, you don’t have to wait long until Evelyn opens it. She’s frowning, but waves you in none the less, waiting to comment until she locks the door behind you.

“Thought you said at my birthday party you were going to slow down with these kinds of visits.”

“Yeah, but you know, unexpected things happen.” You follow her down the hallway, a familiar route as she leads you into a room where they normally operate on pets, and certainly not humans (other than you).

“At least you are alive. How’s the other guy?” She pats the metal table, before starting to find equipment, some meant for animals, other stuff stashed away from earlier visits.

“I killed him.” You say as you move to sit at the table. You conveniently leave out the part where he got back up and the whole mess that followed, but at least what you say is true.

“What am I working with?” Evelyn has her back turned to you as she asks, but turns around to look at you, observing your clothes that are this time in one piece.

“Chest and stomach, one cut to each, about 8-10 inches, deep.” She winces as you pull your shirt off, revealing the blood-soaked makeshift bandages. “Some others, but they just need a clean-up and something to cover them later.” The bandages come off, you bite your lip not to hiss in pain, not that it really matters as Evelyn has heard and seen a lot.

“Nasty. Lay back.” You drop your shirt and the bloody rags that can hardly be called bandages on the end of the table, knowing she will complain about having to clean the floor if you dropped them there.

“Ay ay, mam’.” You swing your legs up on the table and lay down, Evelyn just rolls her eyes at you.

“Don’t call me that, I’m not my mother.”

“Ay ay, sir, then?” You joke, but clench your jaw as she pokes at the edge of your chest wound.

“Good thing the money is good and my wife loves your brownies, or else I might kick you out for that.”

“Tell your wife I’m flattered, but I am very gay.” And have a soulmate, but you leave out that part.

“And so are we.” She grabs a leash from a drawer, holding it in front of your mouth. “Bite down, chipping a tooth will not charm anyone.” You take it, teeth closing around the fabric as Evelyn starts on the wound on your stomach.

You are going to fucking kill Red again.

Soulmate bond be damned.

—----

After Evelyn patches you up, she orders you home to rest, which to be fair, you do.

For a day.

While looking up a little more about soulmates on your phone.

It’s not like you know nothing, but not wanting one had led you to tune out when people were talking about it, so you know little outside the basics of touch triggering it. It hadn’t seemed useful at the time, because why in the fuck would you need to know about something that was never going to happen to you? Now that you are in it though, you skim through articles about it, because even though you need to know at least a little more, you don’t need to know too many details.

Though some are useful to know. Like the fact that if soulmates are kept away from each other for too long, it will give negative side effects, both physical and mental. The mental you had kinda guessed, but the physical was new.

Headaches, irritable mood, nausea, and aching joints.

Not fun.

Jesus fucking christ.

At least your brief reading makes it seem like it doesn’t take that much to keep it in check, just some touches here and there, and time spent together. You grimace, it could have been worse you suppose, but if you have to shake Red’s hand a few times a year, and stay in a room with him for a few hours to keep your life somewhat normal otherwise, you suppose you can manage.

As much as you don’t want to.

Even as much as all you want is to forget it ever happened and leave the man alone.

If you hadn’t touched him back, he wouldn’t have even known, but you suspect if you hadn’t touched him, he would have killed you then.

Like you had him.

But in your defense, you hadn’t known, and he got back up.

So maybe you are just a little messed up, and not a lot.

After reading some more, you find out that lucky for you, soulmates can use their bond, when it’s established, to pull themselves towards their soulmate. Though the article mentioned it’s something most people only do after their bond has been strengthened and developed over time.

You ignore that last part.

At least the article helps you visualize in your head how your feelings look like in your head. Yours are a river of color, his feelings are a tributary river that flows into yours, with another river of your feelings flowing out towards the ether, or rather, him.

Closing your eyes, you concentrate on your bond to him, the river of feelings going towards him, and those being sent to you. The weak, but pretty constant stream of feelings coming from the other man now in your mind.

It’s hard to concentrate on, any time you open your eyes it slips into something intangible again, something that is just there, not something that leads you anywhere. So, like a fool, every so often you close your eyes while you still walk, letting your feelings guide your feet. You are certain you look stupid, walking with eyes closed and arms in front of you to make sure you don’t walk into anyone or anything.

It’s not like you keep your eyes closed for long, but it still makes you feel vulnerable.

The pull eventually leads you to an apartment building in a pretty average looking part of the city. You stand on the other side of the street for a while, to gauge how easy it will be to get in.

You can tell Red is inside the building, not moving, so you assume he’s in his apartment. You focus on his emotions, nothing sparks out, just a baseline with some spikes of happiness mixed in.

In the end, you conclude the easiest thing to do is to just wait until someone careless leaves the building, and slip in before the door can close behind them.

You lean on a wall near the front door, pretending to be engrossed in your phone as you wait.

It only takes 10 minutes for you to get your opportunity, slipping in silently and unnoticed. You take the stairs, here and there taking two steps at once, following the pull as well as you can with your eyes still open, until you find yourself in front of an apartment door where you can feel Red behind it.

Your soulmate.

You wonder what his name actually is.

You force yourself to knock, instead of just trying to open the door, just breaking in.

There’s shuffling of feet, and to your surprise, a black woman with a white afro and sunglasses opens the door.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Where’s Red?”

“Who?”

“Red suit, guns and katanas, black around the eyes, a mask that is surprisingly animated?” You feel yourself getting irritated by the silence that description is met with. You wonder how much of it your soulmate is picking up. His emotions are shifting, flowing into what feels like nervousness.

You hear what sounds an awful lot like a squeak and, finally, his voice again.

“Al, close the fucking door.”

“What the fuck have you done now?”

“Al, please!” You try to look past Al, seconds later the door is thrown shut in your face, the noise of the lock turning quickly following.

Okay, so fuck being polite.

One deep breath, and then you’re raising one leg up, and kicking the fucking door in. There’s a yelp from someone as the door swings open fast and bounces off the wall behind it. You get into the apartment in a few quick strides, ignoring Al that is cursing at you, something about getting ‘the damn bat’.

“Okay, that was unfairly hot.” You spot him a second after the words leave his mouth.

At least you’re fairly sure it’s him. He’s not wearing a red suit, instead he’s dressed in grey sweatpants, fuzzy pink slippers, and a red hoodie, but you recognize the bumpy skin that covers his face and hands. Which you can barely see because he is hiding behind another man where they stand in front of a dining room table. Red’s hands are on the shoulders of the man clad in flannel with rolled up sleeves and jeans that is scowling at you; his stance tense with his arms at his side.

You ignore Flannel in favor of looking at your soulmate, meeting his eyes over the shoulder of the other man.

“You are a fucking asshole Red.”

“Well done assessment there, Stab.”

“Stab?”

“Well you did almost stab me through the head before giving me your name, which, count yourself lucky cause I usually don’t put out if I don’t know what name to scream.”

“Wade, what-” Flannel starts, but you cut him off.

“Oh, so that’s your name.” You offer up your own name. “Which you would have learned if you hadn’t run away like a fucking pussy.” Wade gasps.

“Excuse you, pussies are fucking strong as shit, they can-”

“Both of you, shut the fuck up.” Flannel barks out, shifting both of your attentions to him. “What the fuck is this?” He shakes Wade’s hands off his shoulders, taking a few steps so he’s more in the middle of the two of you. Which is not much space really, the apartment is not big, but at least it gets a little bit less full as Al leaves out the broken door, purse under her arm and muttering something you can’t hear or care to.

“Wade and I need to fucking talk. About how he is a fucking coward for fucking running.”

“I am not, just made a tactical retreat from an enemy!” Wade protests.

“We are a little past that, soulmate.” You drip venom in the last word, Flannel goes stock still as Wade draws in a sharp breath. Panic is sent through your link, which for some reason makes you angry.

“Just fucking come here.” You start to stride over towards Wade, who is frozen now.

You don’t get past Flannel though, as he grabs you, spinning you quickly as he pins you against the dining room wall with a hand on your shoulder, metal glinting from between his knuckles as it extends and pushes against your throat, not breaking skin, but threatening to do so.

On instinct you grab at his bare forearm, trying to pull the knives or whatever the fuck those are away from your throat, but now it’s your turn to freeze, as for the second time in as many days, you feel the sizzle in your mind of a new link forming.

What.

In.

The.

FUCK.

You look up at Flannel, startled and with your mouth hanging open. He’s frowning, tilts his head and then, slowly, his hand shifts from your shoulder to touch your neck, the closest piece of bare skin.

His eyes dilate, then he licks his lips, and you know he just felt the same thing as you did.

“What the fuck.” All three of you say in unison.

(Part 3)

204 notes · View notes

innorogers · 25 days ago

Text

Vigil

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: For a man who has faced down gods, monsters, the end of the universe, this kind of fear is new to him. It’s not the enemy outside he fears—it’s the thought of losing you, of failing to protect you. Again.

Warning: Mention of sex / Fluff & Angst / Protective Steve / Jealous Steve /

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff / John Walker

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

It ended just as expected. Steve cummed twice in the shower—once in your mouth, because, damn, he tasted amazing after cleaning up, and again inside you, because you smelled just as irresistible with that jasmine scent in your hair.

So here you are, three cups of coffee later, and about to nap on your desk. The body Hydra gave you was strong, but you’ve been in a car chase, with the Iron Army hunting you down, fought in a nightclub, and probably had four or five rounds of sex with Steve. You honestly don’t know what was more exhausting. You’d guess the mission that had gone rogue, but honestly, the sex just left you breathless.

"Oh, rough night?" Robert handed you a fourth cup of coffee, eyeing the dark circles under your eyes. "Need the adrenaline shot?"

"Um…" You actually considered it for a moment. Your body metabolized stuff like that too fast, though—it would only last for a couple of hours, tops. "Nah, forget it.” You need your brain clear to process everything that happened.

“I’ve heard…” Dr. Lin’s voice interrupted your thoughts as he leaned casually on your desk, his eyes scanning the room where your colleagues were clearly whispering about you. “That Captain America had quite the adventure yesterday. Right after leaving the UN, too.”

He tsked and pulled out his phone, showing you a few grainy clips. Footage from CCTVs and some shaky handhelds—probably from people who had their phones out at the right moment. “A broken bridge, streets on fire, and…a fight in a nightclub? You’re gonna need more than coffee to survive this shift, I think.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Too late for damage control, huh? Is it all over the news?” You could only imagine the hell Steve was going through with Commander Hill: ‘I gave you 1,278 security protocols, and you ignored them all?!’ Yeah, you weren’t setting foot in the command room today.

“Not quite all over the news yet—mostly social media.” Dr. Lin was clearly enjoying the UN’s PR disaster a bit too much. “I think they’re working overtime behind the scenes to sweep it under the rug. Captain America gets attacked his first time outside the compound during ‘The Reconciliation of the Century’? Yeah…someone’s having a bad day in PR.”

“Anyway…as I was saying…You’re gonna need more than coffee, we’ve got company today…”

“What? Company?” You were surprised. “They’re letting people in?!” After yesterday’s security breach?

“Seems the first New Era Project agent that the UN sent was a fraud or didn’t work. And since we visited them yesterday already, today, they’re sending some new guys.” Dr. Lin looked at you, lowering his glasses: “Yikes, right? So for today, we need to pretend we’re working. ‘Cause we’re not sharing our real stuff…which will make this day unbearable.”

Oh. You grimaced after Dr. Lin turned around and began “working.” Yeah, you knew everything about how the last agent went wrong. But actually, this ‘pretend to be working’ thing was good—you needed to analyze everything that had happened.

You opened a document connected to Tony’s hub and started typing, outlining the details for him in your usual style. (It was your private little system—documents stored in The Crib, or what the three of you called the ‘Geniuses’ Sticky Notes.’) You’d barely finished bullet point five when someone in a crisp military uniform appeared beside you, smiling next to your screen.

“Hi, Doctor—whose phone number is still confidential. Nice to see you again.” John Walker said smiling, quoting the line you’d once used to refuse giving him your number.

Oh dear Lord, he really should have taken a nap with you when he had the chance, instead of those three—no, four rounds of sex you had in the dressing room and the shower.

Steve thought after suppressing another yawn, trying to focus on the screen, where Thadeus Ross was losing his temper again, explaining why the UN had nothing to do with the attack he and you got yesterday.

But who was he kidding? Steve almost smiled. Nope, no way he’d have preferred the nap over the sex. That was exactly what he needed after being hard almost the entire afternoon. And four times weren’t enough—he would have gone on if you weren’t in the dressing room.

For fuck’s sake, when is this over? He couldn’t wait to get back to your private lab-slash-home, have a light dinner, and get in bed with you.

Oh, that’s a nice thought: a sex marathon for the weekend is all he needs after this hellish week. He started thinking of your intertwined bodies, your begging moans that sounded like heaven... Yeah, okay, he needs to focus. Maybe listen to what the Secretary has to say instead of thinking about your messy hair, your heavy breath, your skin that felt like silky sweet milk, and your mouth... Yup, stop. Let’s hear Ross, so he doesn’t get hard again in the middle of a full meeting room.

He felt a glare on him, so he looked around and saw Agent Sharon Carter staring with her eyebrows raised, as if saying, “Gotcha, pay attention.” Steve suppressed a smile and looked down. Oh boy, this was going to be a long day.

“I thought your super friends were going to be attending this meeting too.” Once the screen was off, Sharon smiled at him while picking up the folders and files.

“Well... Hill and Sam are still in Fraser’s interrogation. Tony and Bruce are tracking back the security breach. Natasha and Clint took over my place in training since I’m busy with other things. So...”

Basically, what happened was that when Tony asked who would be taking this mission, everyone stepped back, and I was the only idiot at the front. Steve shook his head internally.

“In that case.” Sharon gave him the usual confident wink. “I’m glad. It’s been forever since we shared a mission.” She grinned. “Last time almost cost me my career.”

“Yeah...um...lucky, things sorted out on that one...” He was a little embarrassed but still grateful for Sharon’s help during the Civil War chaos.

“I’m kidding with you, okay?” Sharon teased. “It’s not like I almost got into federal prison or anything.” She sighed a little, lowering her voice: “Although, I wouldn’t have minded if I had to.” She said with a soft voice and a sparkle in her eyes, looking at Steve with sincerity, which made him stiffen.

“So, how have you been?” Steve nodded and asked with a polite smile, pressing the elevator button for her as they headed to the cafeteria floor. “How does it feel to be at the UN? I heard the benefits are better than the CIA, though unfortunately, you’ll need to deal with us again.”

"Ah, I don’t know what you're talking about," Sharon said with a wink, grinning playfully. "Every agent’s dream, right? Dealing with the Avengers, working alongside the great Captain America... even if, well, my boss would rather face another alien army than deal with the politics of this initiative."

“Well, that’d make two of us.” Steve chuckled, and opened the cafeteria door for her.

The hum of chatter and the clinking of dishes filled the air. The compound’s cafeteria was large, efficient, and—much to Steve’s relief—quiet at this time of day. It was near lunchtime, but still a little early for food service, so the air was full of a coffee’s aroma that lingered from breakfast. They got in line for coffee and a quick snack, and Sharon gave him a sideways glance, her expression teasing as she grabbed a sandwich.

“Oh wow, you guys have affogato as dessert? I could consider getting back to work with you guys just for your catering service.” Sharon said, breaking the brief silence as they moved along the counter.

“Well, if you consider that, I could make my best effort to get your agent’s number back.” Steve grinned, grabbing just a cup of coffee.

“Oh yes, lucky number, huh?” She stopped for a second as she laughed and said, “Remember that place we went to… Venice? What was it called, the best affogato in the world.”

“Benicio’s?” Steve nodded. “Yeah… it’s closed now. I mean, gone during the Blip, hopefully reopened now.”

“You didn’t have the affogato, though,” Sharon said with a playful hint in her voice. “Mr. ‘I don’t know how to relax since I got into a fight with Stark and we’re on the run.’”

“Hey, I was the international most wanted. I think it was okay for me just to stay out of the loop. Imagine if I got caught because of ice cream. That would’ve been…”

“Funny? Quite a story to tell? Best date I’ve ever had?” Sharon shrugged.

“...Embarrassing.” Steve said with a smile. “Or awkward, or even humiliating.”

Sharon shook her head and laughed. They found a table by the window, where sunlight poured in, and Steve took a seat across from her. He could see the curiosity in Sharon’s eyes, the slight hesitation before she spoke again.

“It really was, actually. One of my top three dates.” Her smile turned more serious, her voice low enough that only Steve could hear over the ambient noise. “Too bad it ended so… abruptly.”

Steve wanted to say, "We would never have made it too far", but he only sighed.

He didn’t want to dismiss her feelings, and he couldn’t deny that something had existed between them. It was brief, but also real. A shared history they couldn’t quite forget or ignore.

Sharon was strong, smart, and capable—someone he admired deeply and cared about. He appreciated her confidence and her courage, but that connection, though meaningful, was nothing compared to what he felt for you now.

That had been a stream. With you, it was tides, waves, the entire ocean.

“We made a good team.” Steve said with a smile, being honest and looking directly into her eyes.

Something about it made Sharon hold her breath.

She could remember moments in the past when Steve had the same effect on her. He would just gaze at her, and her heartbeat would skip or beat too fast.

Maybe that’s why she hadn’t pushed harder when it didn’t work. If she had fallen, completely and madly, as she’d wanted to, the power he held over her would have been overwhelming.

She had risked her entire career just to help him, and they were… nothing. Just a kiss, just some kisses or dates. So what would have happened if they’d continued? She couldn’t imagine a life where she had so little discipline about her feelings, mind, or heart.

“I know.” Sharon spoke softly, still holding his gaze. She was taking a leap of faith now. Cause she couldn’t help to wonder—could it have worked?

What if…they gave it another chance? They didn’t have the menace of the universe’s destruction now, the chances of Steve (or her) being a fugitive again were none after Thanos, so what… what if…?

“But…” She began, but Steve suddenly turned as something caught his attention.

It was lunchtime, and the employees began to arrive at the cafeteria, you among them, with Dr. Lin at your right and John Walker at your left.

“Captain Walker, I really don’t need a date. I have a boyfriend, no, um… fiancé.” You said as you picked up a tray and started serving lunch on your plate, remembering how Steve just highlighted this morning that the ring was indeed, a ring.

“It’s John.” Said a very cheerful John Walker, who was not stepping back from asking you out, even though you had been determined and clear about your “NO”s and reasons.

“Well, does this fiancé have a name? And where’s the ring?” he said while picking lunch and placing food, walking backward with a gracious wink.

“OH MY GOD!” You and Dr. Lin said at the same time, your eyes widening as you noticed the ring was missing from your finger.

“Where’s the ring? D…did you lose the ring?!” Robert was panicking. Did you just lose the engagement ring Captain America gave you?!

“I don’t know, it was on my finger...” You were looking in your lab coat pockets and in your clothes.

“It’s a tracking device, equipped with the last of Stark technology, how...how can you lose a tracking device?!” Dr. Lin couldn’t believe it.

“Your boyfriend put a tracking device on you?” John hmph'd with a laugh. “What a douchebag!” He put a hand on his chest. “I promise, I would never do such a manipulative, controlling freak thing to you.” He winked. “I’ll look out for other guys who come close, of course, but that’s another level of jerkiness. Ugh...a tracking device, what is he, a psychopath?”

“It’s an engagement ring,” you replied, frowning, though you didn’t think of giving out too much information to him. You thought back to the last time you saw the ring, which was before you took it off when you entered the UN HQ.

You pulled out your phone, wanting to send a message to Steve just to confirm.

Some strands of hair curved in front of you when you looked down, and John, who was standing in front of you, couldn’t help but stretch out his hand and brush them to your shoulder. His fingers ran through your hair, and his fingertips touched your ear as he accommodated it for you.

Before you could react, a loud crash echoed through the cafeteria, like the sound of a broken cup or mug.

Sharon stood in shock as Steve slammed his cup down so hard the porcelain shattered. His face was livid, veins bulging in his neck, and his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

He abruptly stood, the chair scraping loudly behind him, and stormed in your direction.

"I've got it, babe." Steve said. He didn’t miss a moment of the interaction and was at your side in an instant. He took your hand, his eyes locked on John Walker, and carefully slid the ring back onto your finger. “It was in the pocket of your gear.”

Both captains exchanged tense, serious looks. You could feel the sparks fly between them as they made eye contact, and after a long moment, Steve finally smiled.

“I’m guessing you're here as a representative of the New Era’s Project, Captain Walker?” He said, placing a firm hand on your waist, his grip tightening slightly.

“Yes.” John replied with a polite but sneering smile.

“The knowledge exchanges from R&D have been…quite enlightening. I can’t wait to see what the best of your team has to offer…to me.” He said as he raised his jaw and tilted his head toward you. You could feel Steve’s body tense, like a bow stretched to its full capacity and ready to snap back.

"Take whatever gear or armory you want, Walker," Steve said in a cold, measured voice, as the entire cafeteria fell silent, all eyes locked on the tension between the two men.

"But the best of this compound is far beyond your reach. And don’t think for a second that you could ever put a finger on that." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, teeth clenched. Touch my girl’s hair again, and I’ll cut your arm off.

"Steve." A calm voice cut through the tension as Commander Hill appeared at the doorway. She walked in with steady confidence. "We’ve got news. I need you and Dr. Lancaster in the Command Room."

Steve didn’t immediately move. His gaze lingered on Walker for a few more seconds, with unspoken warnings in his eyes. Then, without a word, he turned to you, gently taking your hand in his, and led you out of the cafeteria. The weight of Walker’s stare followed behind you both, but your focus stayed fixed on your fiance's figure.

No one spoke in the hallway as you walked toward the Command Room. You could see Steve’s rigid expression. He was pissed, his jaw tight, shoulders tense as if holding back more words.

But you were… well, trying your best to hide the curve of your lips. Just like he had back in the car when you sobbed that you’d go to Wakanda and talk to plants for the rest of your life if he ever left you to go back to his gorgeous ex.

Oh, so he was this jealous? Even a little possessive? He got this mad just because a guy touched your hair? Now, if Steve were any other guy, maybe this would seem like a giant red flag, but this was the love of your life, so…

You slid your hand into his palm, pressing your skin to his, and intertwined your fingers with his.

Steve’s expression softened, and he looked at you, letting out a quiet sigh. He smiled when you mouthed, I love you.

Commander Hill, however, wasn’t in the mood for your lovebird moments. Her face remained stern as she waited for the door to close behind you, sealing the room.

"Agent Frazer was found dead this morning."

The words hung in the air like a punch to the gut. Steve’s hand tightened around yours as his expression shifted from softened warmth to immediate alertness.

You lowered your sight.

Somehow, you had a feeling this was coming anytime soon. It was weird, though. Agent Frazer was not your brother; he just pretended to be for some time (and then actually tried to brainwash slash attack you). But for a moment, you wished that had been true, that your brother was alive, even if he had been turned against you. So now he is dead, and you feel strangely sad.

Your way of dealing with it? Throw yourself into the facts.

“How?” you asked, almost mechanically. “Was it because… his neural synapses overloaded, triggering an energy surge that short-circuited his cerebral cortex in under a millisecond? Like… like someone or something… wired his brain to self-destruct?”

Maria’s eyes widened, and she gave a quick, silent nod.

Steve’s grip tightened, haunted by your words. At that moment, he panicked, cold sweat through his shirt, fear dominating his senses when the possibility of losing you suddenly struck hard in his mind. So, could anyone do that? Snap their fingers and cause you a brain dead?

His body was merely processing under this thought. He felt the urge to hug you, to feel your warmth and heartbeat under his skin, to feel you entirely safe in his arms. But you were in the command room, so he didn’t move.

“Can we make sure that…” His voice trembled slightly. “What happened to Frazer…” doesn’t happen to you?

Commander Hill noted his panic, so she gave him some time to process.

“Oh no.” You noticed too, so you reassured him, squeezing his hand back: “That won’t happen to me. I’ve only been through one brainwash. It takes more than that—multiple processes, open surgery. And Hydra… they didn’t have the tech to pull it off. Not back then.”

“But…” Your mind raced ahead, piecing things together. “Whoever did this? They’re desperate.”

You rubbed your forehead, and as your hands dropped, Maria noticed it: that look on your face.

The same intense, calculating look Steve wore when he was seeing things no one else could—analyzing every possibility, tracing out the most brilliant, cunning plan, whether on a battlefield or at a table of white collars and power brokers.

“Jarvis, any chance Bruce and Tony are in the crib?” You needed to process your ideas, but you also needed someone who could remember everything you’d said.

“They are on their way here, Dr. Lancaster.” answered the A.I. “Crossing the elevator’s door at this moment.” said Jarvis as both entered the room.

“Please tell me you already have a preliminary conclusion?” said Tony, stepping into the room.

“Okay…” You stood in the middle, your mind moving faster than words as you started laying out the analysis.

“They have access to Hydra files—there’s no other way to explain it. Clearance levels that aren’t just high for regulars; files that were locked, or used to be locked, behind old S.H.I.E.L.D. encryption. And the remains of my file? Only a few could access those after Hydra was dismantled.”

Tony leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, tracking your every movement. Bruce sat at the edge of a table, hands loosely folded, but his furrowed brow betrayed his concern.

“So, leftover Hydra goons or former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents?” Tony asked. He didn't want to say it aloud, but there was also another possibility: a breach, here, inside the Avengers.

“Or both.” Steve raised an eyebrow. “Ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives who went dark when Hydra fell. People who know how to stay hidden but had deep ties to the old Hydra infrastructure.”

“Even if they had the files, they’d need money. A lot of it, if they’re working with the kind of tech that got into Frazer’s head.” Bruce said, swiping through the files on the screen.

“Yeah, this doesn’t sound like some underground merc group.” Maria said, standing beside him as she watched the files on the main screen.

“This is serious, billionaire-level investment. Whoever’s backing them has access to bleeding-edge tech. Retinal implants, memory manipulation… that’s not standard black-market operation. The kind of power they’re throwing around is something only the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. had access to—the old S.H.I.E.L.D. when they were still around.”

“So, they’re gearing up for something big, or they’re hitting a wall. What are they trying to accomplish? Why use Frazer as a puppet?” Tony followed the line of thought.

You hesitated: “I think… They’re close to something. A breakthrough, maybe. Or…” You stopped and narrowed your eyes, thinking aloud. “Or they’re failing. Desperate. They’re making bold moves because they need something critical. And that something is… me.”

Steve’s expression shifted. His fingers locked onto yours, tightly.

“The attack was directed at you. Frazer was pretending to be your brother. And to confirm your existence.” Tony sighed, frustrated and feeling a pang of guilt. He hid you all these years, thinking you would be safe. He should have let you out of the New Eras Project. The Avengers had so many ways of detecting enemies without using your powers. Fuck, he should have listened to Steve when he warned him to let you out of the Project.

“Of the twelve of you, you’re the only one with… those powers.” Steve murmured, almost clenching his teeth. He felt the urge to hug you, as if you were going to disappear or vanish in the next second.

“And a success case.” You said, not wanting to scare him but knowing you all needed the entire picture. “The only survivor, the only… prototype. Still alive. In my body is the source code for why these experiments or creations worked.”

“Wait…” Tony’s glare was fixed on you. “If the endgame is to copy your ability… What could they even use that for?” But it was a self-answering conversation. He was just thinking aloud: “…a soldier who could walk into a building and identify every weak point before the first shot is fired. Or worse, detect something we’ve built to be undetectable.”

“Why stop there, Tony?” Maria’s expression was serious and cold. “Why would there be only one? Hydra made a dozen back then, and they didn’t even have half the tech we have now.”

Bruce frowned deeper, his voice low: “If they’re that close, then we’re on borrowed time. They’ve already brainwashed Frazer, and now they’re playing with neural implants and synaptic overrides.”

“Exactly.” You nodded. ��And they are so desperate, they don’t care if we know they’re out there now, because they’re so close they can taste it. Once they succeed, they won’t even fear the Avengers’ powers anymore.”

Tony exhaled sharply, his glare cold. “So, they’re building something. A super soldier, or an army of them—enhanced with tech that would let them see through just about anything.”

“And they’re not far from getting there. But for now, I’m still the key to unlocking that power.”

The room went quiet for a moment as the weight of your words settled in.

“Well, isn’t that just fantastic.” Tony applauded, the whole thing giving him a headache. “We’ve got super soldiers with x-ray vision on the horizon. And they’ve got you in their crosshairs.”

“So basically, we need to see what triggered this sudden desperation.” Bruce leaned forward, and his mind began to analyze: “We could scan for energy centralization around the globe. Human creation needs vast electromagnetic fields to power high-level bioengineering, especially when manipulating neural pathways at this scale. We need to track when or where all this is happening. But…”

His voice was tense.

“I’ve got a feeling they’re at the door already. Because whatever they’re building… they’re almost done.”

The way back home was silent. You could feel the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. Steve hadn’t said much since you left the command room. His usual warmth and quiet strength seemed overshadowed by something deeper—fear and anxiety, clunging over him like a dark shadow, haunting him at his heels.

You wanted to speak, but your mind was processing too. You were trying to remember everything you knew about yourself and your siblings, every memory, every piece of paper you’d seen in Hydra labs, every layer of analysis they’d made you go through.

The ride home was silent, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the road, even your house slash lab was after all the securities protocols and protective layers Maria had put, he was still alert, as if there were something in the grass and trees of the compound that would attack anytime. You could feel the weight of his thoughts, pressing down like a storm waiting to break.

"Babe there's no need…" You said as Steve moved around the house once you've arrived.

He checked every window, every door, securing them with an almost obsessive care. He paused at the front door, his hand lingering on the lock as if it was the only thing standing between you and the threat he couldn’t control.

You watched him, knowing that this wasn’t just about protecting you—it was about the fear within him.

"Steve, I'm here." You stopped him. Placing your hand on his back: "I'm here. With you."

He turned to you, his face pale. His eyes were haunted, wide with the kind of fear you rarely saw in him. He’s worried.

No, not worried, he’s terrified.

Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, wrapping them tightly around you like you might disappear if he let go. His grip is firm, desperate, as trying to shield you from an invisible danger that only he can see.

His breath is uneven, and you can feel the tension radiating from him. For a man who has faced down gods, monsters, the end of the universe, this kind of fear is new to him. It’s not the enemy outside he fears—it’s the thought of losing you, of failing to protect you. Again.

You don’t say anything at first. Words won’t soothe him. So you just hold him back, resting your head against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. Slowly, you lifted your hands to gently press them on his neck, cupping his face to make him look at you.

"I'm here. And we will be ok." You say softly.

These words made him tremble. Will you? How can you be sure? How could he know? What if…

He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he lost you.

“I won’t let them take you.” He said, as a sacred oath, tatooed in his soul. “I’m going to set up more protocols.” He muttered, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression one of steely resolve beneath the worry. “More security. I’ll have Tony upgrade the system. I’ll have guards outside. I’ll—”

You stayed still in his arms, feeling the rawness of his fear. His body was tense, and you could feel the tremble in his muscles, the weight of his panic pressing against you. He wasn’t just holding you for comfort—he was holding you like you were the last solid thing in a world that was quickly unraveling.

“Steve,” you interrupted softly, placing a hand on his chest. “You can’t protect me from everything.”

His eyes locked onto yours. “I can try. And I will.”

"Babe…this is the Avengers compound. This is…the safest place on earth. Or even the universe."

"It took only one protocol. One permission. Approved by me." He said with teeth clenched. "I gave him clearance. One, to bring Frazer in front of you, I won't ever, ever let that happen again." He said with conviction, his expressions somber as he remembered everything you went through.

But beneath his determination, you could see the cracks: the anxiety gnawing away at him, the overwhelming fear that no matter what he did, it might not be enough.

"Steve…"

“You don’t understand…” His voice is strained, thick with the fear that he hasn’t been able to shake since the moment he realized you were being targeted. “I’ve seen too much. I’ve lost too many. If something happens to you—”

He pauses.

“I can’t lose you.” He whispered, his voice barely audible. He was a man made of iron will and conviction, but here he stood, vulnerable and raw, stripped bare of all his usual defenses.

“Hey, hey, hey…Listen.” You said, holding his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I’m here. Right here. I’m not going anywhere. I'm here, with you, I'm safe.”

He looks at you and feels a pang of pain to your innocent even naive words.

Safe? Were you safe when he was on the other side of the wall and couldn't do anything but watch as you almost fell under Frazer's brainwash? Were you safe when you pressed a tranquilizer to yourself?

The memory of you in his arms, unconcious and slipping away was so vivid.

His hands tightened around you again at that thought, his grip shaking slightly. “I just... I can’t stop thinking about it.” He admitted, his voice strained. “What if I can’t get to you in time? What if something happens and I’m not there? What if…”

“I can’t take that risk.” He mutters, more to himself than to you. “ I can't. I won’t let anything happen to you. Not again.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. His blue eyes are filled with a vulnerability you’ve only seen in rare moments— when the weight of the world is too much, even for him.

“Steve.” You say soft but firmly: “We’ll get through this. Together.”

For a long moment, he just looks at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find reassurance in the depths of your gaze. Slowly, he exhales, but he doesn’t let go. That deep-rooted terror of losing you, isn't going away anytime soon.

His arms remain wrapped around you, protective and unyielding, as though he’s made a silent vow that nothing—no person, no secret organization, no force on Earth or beyond—will ever take you away from him.

If only that could be true.

THE End but TBC

Continue to Chapter 10: Eclipse

Alright I'm SO SORRY I'm late!! 2 Full time jobs really is consuming me!! I hope you enjoyed it!! Sooooo I have a really serious question RN, could you doooo me the favor to lmk your thoughts!!

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3

#captain america x reader #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x reader #captain america x you #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #captain america x ofc #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #chris evans characters

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whimsyfinny · 9 months ago

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: aaaaahhhhhhhh sorry this one took ages. I suddenly had a bunch of personal things going on so I struggled to find the time. Also this chapter is wild, I’m so sorry for the complete train wreck that it is. I just keep writing without questioning it too much. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

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Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 1

Morning soon rolled around; my alarm waking me from my deep dreamless sleep, eyes wearily blinking open as I stared blankly at the old ceiling. Turning off the repetitive beeping, I flung back the covers and climbed out of bed, pacing to the bathroom to freshen up before heading down to breakfast. I was in desperate need of a laundry day as I was down to my last couple of clean items: a cropped black tank top that said ‘Singers Salvage Yard’ across the front in old cracked and over washed lettering, paired with a short denim skirt with frayed edges. It was an a-line fit a long time ago, but as I got older and my figure changed it just got tighter and shorter. I don’t even know why I still have the thing. Paired with my boots and some comfy socks poking over the top of them, I looked like I should be getting paid to wash cars. I grimaced, knowing full well that Dean was going to make a comment.

Dean.

My mind raced back to last night with his parted lips and black lustful eyes - I couldn’t tell if he wanted to push me against a wall or be at my mercy, it was hard to say. Both sounded spectacular.

I strode into the central study room where the boys did all their research, looking for my flannel when I noticed a figure out of the corner of my eye. Instinct took over and I grabbed the nearest item to me - a lamp from the middle of the table - and held it up like a bat, ready to swing. The man flinched but held up his hands, an apologetic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” his voice was monotone despite his peaceful words.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“CAS!” Suddenly Deans voice rang through the open room and we both spun to see him standing where I had just walked in, Sam following behind.

“Dean I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle her, I wasn’t expecting you to have visitors,” this Cas guy spoke, his tone forever unchanging.

“This is (Y/n), Bobby’s niece. She’s staying with us for a while to help with research,” he explained, before turning to me and giving me a stern look, holding his hand out.

“(Y/n) give me the lamp.”

I did as he asked, placing the cool metal into his palm as he returned it to the table. We shared a look for a second and I was unsure of the meaning behind it - was he mad about me almost bludgeoning his friend? Was it because I was going to use a lamp of all things? Or was it about last night, and the fact I left him hanging? Who knows, but I’m sure I’ll hear about it later. Dean was about to turn away when the monotone voice of Cas spoke up.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), please forgive me for startling you. Although…” he paused, looking me up and down and then almost knowingly between myself and Dean, “I have personally been caught off guard here as well - I was unaware that Dean was involved with someone.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked up at Cas, getting ready to snatch that lamp back. I saw Dean pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“You’re sexual endeavours with Dean,” Cas looked at me like I was the one missing something here. Clearly I am. Cas continued, “you’ve been intimate, have you not? This means that you are a couple from what I’ve learned.” Suddenly his eyes went wide and he looked straight at Dean.

“Or is this a pizza man situation?”

“CAS STOP TALKING,” Dean bellowed, embarrassment creeping across his face. I’m assuming he’s not used to that emotion as he was getting very frustrated. I couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief.

“How the actual FUCK do you know about me and Dean after saying that you weren’t aware of me even being here before you arrived?”

“He can smell it,” Dean said quietly, arms now crossed over his chest.

“What?”

“He can smell… me… on you,” as the words left his lips, his eyes locked with mine for a split second sending a jolt down my spine and hair prickling on my skin. I tore my eyes away from him and looked back at Cas.

“So wait, this weirdo can smell that I slept in one of Deans T-shirts last night?”

“You slept in one of his shirts?” Sam asked, piping up for the first time since this conversation started. Dean grinned like the cat that got the cream, embarrassment dissipating for a second.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Hmmm,” Cas mumbled, “No it’s not just that… It’s stronger, like there is part of Dean in her somehow. Or at least there was; not so much anymore.”

My eyes went as wide as the moon and my cheeks felt like they’d been set on fire.

“OH MY GOD,” I hid my face in my hands, wanting the ground to swallow me up. Whilst I tried to hide my entire existence, Dean cackled, leaving Sam confused.

“I don’t get it, what’s going on?” He asked, looking between all three of us. I couldn’t say a word through the white hot embarrassment, which left Dean to explain. He turned and looked Sam dead in the eye.

“You know how much I love pie, Sam,” he paused to see if Sam was catching on, which he wasn’t so Dean continued. “All sorts of pie. Like, uh, apple pie, cherry pie… cream pie…” Sam’s eyes shot open as wide as they could and he almost went as red as me.

“Nope!” He declared, promptly spinning on his heel and leaving. Cas looked confused.

“I smell no pie here.”

“Never mind, Cas,” Dean patted him on the shoulder before urging him to catch up with Sam who I’m assuming is in the kitchen by now. When it was just Dean and I left I peered at him through my fingers, my face still burning up.

“Dean what the fuck just happened?!”

He tried to suppress his laughter, explaining that Cas was in fact ‘Castiel’ and an Angel of the Lord, which explained his rigid behaviour and a weirdly strong set of senses.

“Why didn’t you butt in and explain who he was before everything got so embarrassing!”

“To be honest it was all pretty hilarious.”

“No it wasn’t! That was NOT an enjoyable moment!”

“Ok I’m sorry,” Dean paused, looking down at me with softer eyes, a slight smile still on his lips. He stepped closer and I pushed on his chest.

“You better be! You owe me big time for that one Winchester.”

He grinned as the furious redness on my face simmered down, just leaving a pink glow on my cheeks.

“Ok ok! Look let's just go and get some breakfast and put this behind us,” he put his hand on the small of my back, urging me towards the kitchen. I hummed, walking with him. There were a few moments of silence as we made our way down before he suddenly spoke up again.

“Did you know that he once smelt a bladder infection on a dead guy?”

Breakfast was uneventful. I was unable to make eye contact with Castiel, and it seemed that Sam was unable to make eye contact with me. Dean however was completely unphased. Once we were all finished and I’d cleared everything away I made my way to my room, grabbed my dirty clothes and then headed to the laundry room - today was going to be a practical one as I officially had nothing else to wear. Upon arriving I couldn’t help but grimace; a mountain of mens clothes covered in mud, blood and black goop sat in the middle of the floor by the washers.

“Gross…” I winced, the smell of dirt and iron filling my nose as I got closer and poked the pile with a pipe I found off to the side. I half expected the mass of clothes to sprout legs and walk off. The boys could probably find lore on the thing with how long its been sitting here. I huffed, scooping my hair into a high ponytail before shoving a bunch of my washing in a machine and turning it on before returning for face the Winchesters laundry. I can’t leave it here, that goes against everything clean and hygienic that I stand for. I could burn it? They would definitely complain about having to replace all the plaid shirts. Should I sort it or just hope for the best? Do I check the pockets? Knowing all the crap they carry around, I should definitely check the pockets before a load of bullets or a hex bag goes through one of the machines. I set to work, sorting out colours, blacks and whites - unable to differentiate between lights and darks at times - and search every pocket as I go. The amount of women’s phone numbers I find on napkins and receipts is ridiculous. I can’t help but feel a little deflated, knowing I’m probably just a name on Deans list. I put them to the side in a pile, keeping them separate from the numbers from Sam’s pockets. I load up another machine and turn it on, picking up the stacks of numbers and leaving the room.

I find the boys sitting in their usual places at the tables, surrounded by piles of books and files. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. I walk up to them and slide the collection of phone numbers over to them.

“I thought you might want to keep these,” I said, not understanding the tone in my own voice. They both took a few seconds to realise what it was that I was handing them and they both responded in an abashed manner, shooting each other a knowing look before staring at the accumulation of digits, not once making eye contact with me. Sam nodded a quick ‘thank you’ before I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him crumple them up and throw them away in a carrier bag on the floor next to him. At the same time, I caught Dean shoving his collection into his jacket pocket, which was hung on the back of his chair. I hastened my actions and turned away quicker, not wanting to have the knowledge that he was keeping them. A pang of something shot through my chest, and I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, sadness, rage or self pity. Whatever it was, I needed to get the fuck away from Dean.

A few hours passed and I was still sorting laundry. My clothes were officially clean and dry and away in my room, however the task at hand was now the clothes belonging to the Winchester boys. I was a few minutes away from the final load of washing being dry, and I’d managed to arrange the clothing into piles of ‘definitely Sam’ and ‘definitely Dean’, with a ‘really not sure’ pile in the middle. The jeans were easy enough to tell apart and due to Deans T-shirt I wore to bed last night, I now knew that he wore a slightly larger shirt size than his younger brother. I guess he had bigger shoulders, despite Sam being taller. My train of thought snapped as I suddenly heard a door slam upstairs and a female voice call out. I recognised the voice immediately. I stopped everything I was doing and headed upstairs, my feet carrying me with purpose as I reached the study room; Sam and Dean also emerging from another corridor.

“Charlie!” Dean beamed at her, going to give her a hug before I caught up to them and shoved him out the way.

“Don’t you EVER abandon me again like that,” I said, embracing her tight. “I’m fucking annoyed at you…. But I’m glad you’re here. These guys are like wild animals.” She patted my hair softly before I stepped back and she had an apologetic look on her face.

“I knooowwww I’m sorry! But you were in such a slump I really had to do something. Plus these guys really needed whipping into shape,” she spoke the second half of her sentence quieter and we both peered at the boys, fully aware that they could hear every word we were saying.

“Anyway!” She exclaimed, moving away and plopping her backpack onto the nearest table, “I think I have a case for you guys…” her voice was excited but the way her expression changed when she looked from the boys to me was slightly concerning. Sam seemed to pick up on this too.

“That’s great, but what’s the catch?” He asked. Charlie bit her lip and looked between the boys and me again.

“It’s in a strip club and we will need (Y/n) as bait.”

“What?!” Both me and Sam spoke up at the same time, and all that Dean could muster was a huge grin.

“I’m gonna need more details than that Charlie,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Right, yes, I probably should have started with the other details. Anyway, I’m pretty sure this club is run by a bunch of vamps, using girls as bait to lure in unsuspecting men to feed on in the private rooms.” The brothers nodded, like they’d seen this sort of thing before. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve had a hunch about this place for a while and did some digging, and it turns out that just last night they advertised a new position available and they want someone that looks just like (Y/n). This is a perfect way to take them down from the inside.” Charlie finished speaking and scanned our faces for any sort of response. I shrugged.

“Sure I’m in.”

“No way, we aren’t putting you in the line of fire like that,” Sam turned to me, a look of worry already smothering his features.

“I agree with Sam, this will be more dangerous than the last case. We’ll find another way to take them down,” Dean said, before he added in an almost snide tone “plus I bet you can’t even lap dance. How would you ever fit in?”

I scoffed.

“Fuck you, I can lap dance just fine.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I don’t need to prove shit to you.”

“Guys,” Sam held his hands up, “not right now.”

I turned back to Charlie.

“Look I’m in, can you make sure that no one else gets hired?” She grins, opening her backpack and pulling out her tablet.

“Absolutely!”

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Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 2

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #enemies to lovers #supernatural smut #slow burn #supernatural #spn

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yuna542 · 24 days ago

Text

[5.]

~The Greg Noll~

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader/Oc

Genre: Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Drama, Action

Warnings: Wounds, Banter, None

Taglist: Open

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: The Kook princess is back after a year and reignites the war between Pogues and Kooks on Kildare. But she quickly realizes that after this year, nothing is the same as before. Deception, secrets from the past, and dangerous conspiracies sweep across Kildare, leaving her no choice but to work with the Pogues and her personal nemesis to find the truth and maybe even $8 million. A dangerous treasure hunt begins that turns her world upside down.

Note: Hope you liked it till here. I would be very happy if you‘d write a comment or repost and let me know what you think. Have fun with the new chapter 🫶🏻

Soundtrack:

⏯️Play: Crash My Car by COIN

Walk in like a wrecking ball

The way she moves makes you miserable

All eyes on the golden girl

She's gonna tell ya, gonna tell ya

Fortunately, no one had been in the shed behind the hedge for years.

Not even the gardeners ventured into the unstable old shack. That was exactly why she had always liked to use that place as a hiding place.

Mom knew for a fact that Rick wouldn't bother to set foot in the dusty old ramshackle. The door creaked ominously and rays of sunlight shone through holes in the walls. It looked almost magical.

The smell of dust, wet wood, and earth rose to my nose.

The shed was empty except for a shelf on the wall.

Carefully, I stretched and groped on the top shelf.

I reached into cobwebs and contorted my face in disgust, but I didn't pull my hand back. Not that magical.

That's when I felt the fabric and got a hold of it. With a tug, I was able to grab it completely and pull it off the shelf. Dust swirled up in the bright rays of light, worsening my vision. Coughing I tried to drive the dusty air away from me.

However, all I could do was stare at the large bag in my hand. It was indeed still here.

I walked back out and placed the item upright in front of me. It was by now just a little taller than I was. Tensely, I searched for the zipper and opened it with bated breath. I looked at the surfboard in awe, stroking my fingers over the cool surface.

It looked exactly the same. The Greg Noll had been Mom's treasure. She had learned to surf with this board herself as a young girl and subsequently taught it to me.

The wooden color was crisscrossed by two bright red stripes that stretched across the entire board.

Immediately memories came up in me and my whole body longed for the sea and the high waves.

I only now realized how much I missed the surf trips with Mom. Even though we could only ever practice in secret, because I didn't want anyone to know about it.

It would be my personal downfall if the other Kooks found out that I was practicing a pogue sport and even liked it. Until I found out Topper surfed too and suddenly it was cool to do that...

But at the moment, I didn't care about those Kooks. I just wanted to feel as carefree again as I had only been on the waves.

So I unzipped all the way and jammed the board under my arm.

I looked around the street carefully and then stealthily turned into a sneaky path. A path that led from Figure Eigth directly to the Cut. It was a winding path through the woods, but it was fun to be so spontaneous and free again.

Rick would have torn me apart, but I didn't care at the moment. To him the reputation and the opinion of the others, especially the Island Club had always been more important than my interests and feelings. So I didn't have to consider his either. He wanted me to have good grates, go shopping, tan all day on the yacht or go golfing.

As I heard the surf already from afar, a ton of heavy weight fell from my shoulders.

The white bikini felt pleasantly warm on my skin and when I finally felt the sand under my feet, I automatically quickened my pace until I was running towards the water.

Once in the water, I swung myself onto the board and paddled out. The water cooled my heated skin and I welcomed the taste of salt on my lips like a lost friend.

The first attempts to catch a good breaker were really miserable and it took me forever to regain my balance, but that didn't make it any less fun. The waves weren't very practical today, barely any good barrels, but it was a liberating feeling to finally be back on the board.

As my legs were already shaking with exertion, I laid flat on the board and paddled along the coast. The sun was high in the cloudless sky and warmed my back.

I never wanted to get off the board again and would have loved to paddle around the whole island. At some point I reached the swamp at the Cut, where the paths on the water stretched out like a maze over endless expanses.

Here I had been only very rarely. It was too dangerous for a Pogue to see me there.

Nevertheless, I let myself drift a little and lay on my back. The familiar feel of the surfboard on my skin made me sigh.

The sun's rays shone in my face, making me close my eyes. I let my leg dangle off the board and enjoyed the cool breeze blowing over the water here.

I didn't know if I had been dozing like this for hours or if it had only been minutes, but my body was so relaxed that I could barely open my eyes.

Out here there was no Rafe yelling at me, no Kooks thinking I was the infallible princess, and no Rick condemning everything I did and taking his anger out on me.

Out here it was just me and the swamp. I could just be myself and breathe freely for the first time in days without that oppressive feeling on my chest.

That's when I felt a touch on my leg. Before I could react, a searing pain shot through my body and made me wince violently.

A scream escaped me and the burning evolved into a piercing sting.

I straightened up too quickly and lost my balance.

Panicking, I tried to hold on to the board, but that only made it worse. I toppled over and landed in the water. Gasping, I tried to pull myself back up, and that pain shot through me again, only this time below my shoulder blade, at my ribs.

I gritted my teeth and pulled myself back onto the board with the last of my strength. Panting heavily, I stared at my leg, which was already reddened.

Swollen wounds that looked like burns sat there and I didn't want to know what my back looked like.

Immediately I became angry at myself and wondered how I could be so stupid. I didn't know this area out here and hadn't even read up on jellyfish at this time of the year.

The pain pulsed under my skin and ate its way to my bones.

Seagulls flew overhead screeching loudly as if to mock me.

Now every movement cost an incredible amount of energy, as I had to fight against the drilling pain every time, so that I was exhausted after only a few minutes. Panting, I looked around, but the beach was too far away. Most definitely I wouldn't be able to make it.

I looked around on the water and thought feverishly.

Gradually, I could no longer stand the pain, so I headed for the nearest cove.

Between the dense deciduous trees on the shore was a small pebbly beach that seemed to lead to a sparsely populated area.

I must be somewhere in the middle of the Cut. Reaching the shore, I stumbled through the knee-deep water and dragged my board to the beach. There I laid it on the gravel and struggled up to the meadow behind the beach.

I needed to see where I was and then somehow get home without anyone seeing me.

This was going to be difficult as I could barely stand upright and my leg hurt with every step. The poison started to turn my stomach and I got sick. I looked around and spotted a small path that led to a run-down fishing shack.

In front of it were old ship engines and other junk everywhere that I couldn't name.

Next to the large hut was a smaller shed that must have been a workshop.

Where the hell had I ended up here?

I ran my hands through my hair, panting, trying to keep a clear head.

Fortunately, there didn't seem to be anyone at home who could catch me on their property. To be honest it didn’t look like someone should live in that torn down place anyway.

Now I looked at my leg more closely for the first time and cursed softly. Afraid someone might hear me.

The redness ran down my entire calf.

I would have a hard time hiding that. Immediately I wanted to keep walking, but the pain suddenly triggered dizziness, so I immediately sat down to avoid falling. I could feel the grass under my body and the throbbing on my shoulder had only gotten worse from the salt water.

Then suddenly I heard the rumbling of an engine behind the house. Then silence again. I just sat there and took a deep breath after another and tried with all my might to not throw up.

I couldn't lose control now.

"What has the tide washed up for me?" a taunting voice sounded behind me. I closed my eyes and wanted to sink into the ground as soon as I recognized him. I turned my head and spotted JJ holding a motorcycle helmet in his hands.

He was standing on the terrace of the house, placing the helmet on a plastic table. He must have come through the house to the terrace. So that meant he lived here.

With all the houses all over Kildare, I had to end up at Maybank, of all places.

„Fuck…“, I whispered before I looked at the sky to push the tears back. I kept silent, hoping that maybe he would just disappear, but it was in vain.

He was already coming down the creaking stairs and toward me. So I stood up and bit the inside of my cheek as pain shot through my limbs.

As he came closer, he seemed to recognize me, but not to believe his eyes. A toothpick was stuck in the corner of his mouth, which he casually removed for a moment.

"Diaz?" it escaped him incredulously as he took off his cap, ran his hand through his hair, and put it back on with the shield facing backwards.

"Believe me, if I had known this was your property, I wouldn't have...", I was already starting to justify myself, but at his smug grin, I fell silent.

"What the hell are you doing here, Kook?"

I was already thinking of countless possible lies that could explain my appearance, but his eyes fell already on the board behind me.

He walked past me and looked at it with shining eyes.

"Is that a Greg Noll?" he muttered incredulously, stroking the red stripes. As he did so, he shoved the toothpick back between his teeth.

"Unbelievable... It's in excellent condition. How did you get your hands on such a…“

Astonished, his gaze now wandered back to me and his expression became inquiring. I felt like a kid who had been caught stealing.

"You surf?" he asked with such an incredulous tone that it was starting to offend me.

"Every now and then," I muttered, since there was no point in lying now.

"I don't believe that... The Kooks' princess surfs like a pogue," JJ exclaimed, circling me.

I had a hard time following him, but I couldn't let him see my back. After all I didn't want any help from a pogue and besides, I was ashamed of my stupidity.

"If you tell anyone, you're dead."

Threateningly, I glowered at him, but he didn't make a face.

"No one would believe me anyway," he countered, taking a step toward me. I wanted to back away, but my leg hurt too much.

A soft gasp escaped me, whereupon the grin disappeared from his face. His gaze wandered searchingly over my features and he seemed to notice that I was studiously avoiding turning my back to him.

"What's wrong? You look like a ghost."

Sweat stood on my forehead and I was sure there was sand in the wound on my shoulder.

"Nothing," I pressed out, but the golden-haired didn't believe me.

He grabbed me by the arm and jerked me around. I almost cried out in pain, but bit my tongue at the last moment.

"Shit, did a jellyfish get you? Is that why you docked here? That looks terrible! It must hurt like crazy."

I turned back to him, wanting to scratch his eyes out.

"Yeah, obviously. Now leave me alone so I can finally get out of here."

He took a few steps back again.

"Do you even know how to treat a sting like that?"

He took the toothpick out of his mouth and flicked it away.

"I'll think of something," I hissed venomously.

He just raised his hands defensively and let me pass.

"I won't stop you."

Limping, I walked over to my board and tried to pick it up, but as soon as I bent down, the sting shot from my rib, over my shoulder, and into my chest, causing me to slump.

Before I hit the ground, however, he caught me and pulled me back to my feet by my waist.

"Are you sure you can do this by yourself? You can't even stand on your own. Those wounds should be treated before they get infected."

He looked at me and I expected him to laugh and scoff, but instead he really looked like he was worried. About me? Never.

Only for a tiny moment before he eyed me up and down and put on another smarmy grin.

Only now did I notice that he was still holding me in his arms. His hand was firmly on my hip and I was propped up against his chest.

Since he was only wearing an unbuttoned shirt that was way too big, I could feel his warm skin and his heartbeat right under my fingertips.

Angrily, I slapped his hand away and fixed him.

"And you want to help me or what?"

JJ just shrugged and buried his hands in the pockets of his pants.

"I could help you if you asked me nicely."

Provocatively, he looked me straight in the eye.

I was getting more and more irritated, and if I hadn't been hurt, I would have slapped him in the face long ago.

"Are you serious?", I snapped at him.

"You want me to get down on my knees and beg you?"

JJ grinned suggestively and raised his eyebrows. Immediately, I regretted my choice of words.

"Well, I definitely wouldn't mind you on your knees, of course."

He came closer again and clasped his hands behind his head.

"But for starters, a simple please will do."

Annoyed, I snorted, but I was beginning to realize that I did indeed need his help.

Even if I somehow got home, I wouldn't be able to fix myself up.

I couldn't let Sarah and Rafe know either, since Rick was home and that's where my cell phone was.

And I could never get to Figure Eigth alone in this condition.

Waiting, the Pogue looked at me and smirked in amusement.

"All right. Please help me," I pressed out, spitting out each word like poison.

He put his hands down and was now grinning broadly.

"There you go. Was that really so hard?," he replied, and without asking, slid his arm around my waist.

Perplexed, I clung to him as he simply lifted me bridal style and carried me up to the house.

As if I weighed nothing, he ran up the stairs and my face flushed with embarrassment. His defined abs were pressed tightly against my torso and I had to take my eyes off those sky blue eyes, before I would loose my mind.

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itsblasttothepast · 5 months ago

Text

In what rabbit hole did I fall into, that everything is upside down now?

Helmut Marko defending Checo AGAIN! I mean... what? Twice already? And now Horner being the one speaking shit every day about Checo's performance, demanding results and saying that maybe his seat will be available for Yuki or Daniel?

I think Marko is playing a game where he does the opposite of Horner, and since now Horner seems to be enemy #1 to Checo, Marko is all... meh (can't say supportive or caring, because let's not exaggerate, but at least he's not attacking Checo and he's saying he'll bounce back from this losing streak).

So I see different outcomes from this (explained, just for fun, with memes) (and also, these are my deluded theories, not to be taken TOO seriously):

Outcome 1: Checo's car will miraculously work again and Checo will at least be in the top 5 the next race, and perhaps p3 or p2 the other one before summer break. This will be accompanied by the generic RBR speech of 'we knew he would do it' and 'we support him' while they kept playing mind games with Checo, his fans and his haters.

Outcome 2: Red Bull fires Checo with their bullshit clause or whatever, and decide to bring Sainz to the team; or Horner finally wins and let Ricciardo take that seat, or Yuki, or Liam, or Bird, or on a very incredibly plot twist, Horner himself takes the damn seat. This leaves with Checo looking for other teams and little window of opportunity to actually get any real options (now, let's remember that Ford's CEO loves Checo and wants him badly, so this outcome will be bloody).

Outcome 3: Checo actually ends his contract, tired of all this bullshit, and says:

Then, in another incredible plot twist, Toto Wolff actually hires Checo to spite Horner, because he keeps throwing to his face that the car is fucked, so he will get his revenge getting Checo to be Russell's minister of defense (maybe hubby Hamilton will also give the boss a good reference for Checo). And let's remember that Toto and Horner have this weird sexual tension, so when he gets Checo for 2025 (only that year, he will get Antonelli with more experience for 2026) he will be like this:

And if Toto doesn't fit into my theory because he's too stubborn, then maybe Audi will give Checo a seat, until Ford decides to buy his own team and hire Checo.

Outcome 4: Aaaaaan my last one... in a crafty game of chairs, Charles says 'screw this' and leaves Ferrari, goes to Red Bull with frenemy Max, and Checo goes to Ferrari to be hubby's teammate, Carlos goes to Mercedes, Daniel gets crushed by Yuki, Logan finally wins a Grand Prix (eagle sounds in the background), Pierre and Esteban get married and Valteri Bottas releases a new, nude, spicy calendar for 2025.

All right, here's my hot take from the rabbit hole, my homies, please let me know how crazy I am and if you have another outcome, my inbox and comments are your canvas.

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hardtofindeggs · 11 days ago

Text

Cease and Desist Pt.2

❀ pairing: professor!levi ackerman x chancellor!f!reader

❀ genre: enemies(ish) to lovers, slow burn

❀ cw: light swearing, high tension situations (???), alcohol consumption, slight angst, fluff, jealousy, mutual pining (but levi is hopeless)

❀ summary: levi ackerman has been a professor at acadia hills university™ for almost 6 years now. levi ackerman has also had his eyes on you - the chancellor of this university - for 6 years now. he hasn't allowed himself to get too close to you, despite it being hard since your social circles are nearly identical. what'll happen now that he can't avoid you as much as he'd like? now that he's too close to you?

❀ parts: pt.1 -> pt.2 -> pt.3 -> pt.4 -> pt.5

Entering your house, you place your keys on the little ceramic bowl you have placed on top of your shoe shelf. Locking your door twice, you start to walk towards your kitchen, excited to prepare the dinner you had set ingredients out for earlier when suddenly your mobile phone rings. Taking it out of your pocket with a confused look on your face because who even calls people at 11:07 pm? When suddenly your confused expression melts off because of course she does.

"Hey there, Hange," a smile lingering in your voice.

"My savior. My angel. My light. My very own personal je-"

"Which bar are you at again, Hange?" you cut her off to ask between low chuckles.

"Hmmm...let me think," a short silence engulfs the line before your best friend speaks once more "21....uh..21...M-mobli-"

"Bounce Street?" you ask while your phone is stuck between your shoulder and ear as you put on your shoes.

"THAT'S THE ONE!!!"

Hange's sudden scream makes you pull the phone away before speaking one last time "Be there in 15. Do NOT leave," she mumbles something of an incoherent agreement and you hang up; grabbing your keys, locking your door and entering your car as you see yourself on your way to the bar.

Once you arrive at the bar, your field of vision is flooded with freshly turned 21 year olds who can't seem to drink quick enough, large groups of older men flirting with the usual bartender and of course, your best friend singing karaoke to anyone who would listen. You stand watching her for a while before you decide on getting yourself a quick drink as she finishes her song. You walk up to the bar and order yourself an apple juice.

"Designated driver?" a low voice asks from beside you. You can't hear the person very well over Hange's singing so you turn to face them. A polite laugh leaving your mouth as you answer.

"More like- Levi! Excuse me; Professor Ackerman," you're surprised to see your friend at the bar he practically ridiculed you for considering to go to.

"Too late for that. Anyhow, you actually didn't answer my question this time, Chancellor," he says smugly.

You roll your eyes and smirk at his petty comment and answer "Such amazing memory. To answer your question, technically yes. See, I wasn't here at all tonight so you can't really call it 'designated' but I was called to come get Hange anyway. So... I suppose so,"

Levi nods and finishes the last of his water, "Taking her back to yours, then?" you nod your head and he speaks once again, however you can't seem to put together what he said.

"What?!" you raise your voice over the music. Levi rolls his eyes and moves closer to you, tucking some of your hair behind your ear and holding it there as he moves in closer to you, his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his warm breath fanning over it for a short second.

"I asked if I could also drop Miche off at your place. I don't really feel like having to clean his throw up tonight." he separates from you, taking note of how close you two actually were, and asks for another glass of water.

You tell him it's no problem and he nods as a silence engulfs the room, even though Hange can still be heard by everyone in this bar. To you it's deafening. Paying attention to the drinks in front of you and nothing else. You hope he doesn't notice how red your ears are, or how you held your breath when he got so close to you. You hope he doesn't notice you touching your ears in a feeble attempt to cool them down, or how your arm relaxed against his when he got so close to you. You really hope he didn't notice.

"Hange, sit up. Cuz if you throw up while laying down, you'll die," you signal right and turn, "And if you do, I wouldn't be able to fit funeral arrangements into my calendar right now," you listen to Hange's giggling while you enter your building's parking lot, finding two empty slots besides one another and parking your car neatly.

You exit your car and open the door for Hange, lowering yourself so you can help wiggle her out.

"Y/N!" Levi's voice echoes throughout the partially empty parking lot, grabbing your attention away from Hange's boots in your hands.

"Yes, Levi?"

"Mind throwing me your keys? I'll get Miche changed and on the couch while you get Hange out," Levi shrugs his head towards the sleepy man slouched over his shoulder.

You nod and let go of Hange's leg to throw him your house keys. Levi catches them with his free hand and begins walking towards the elevator. Once he's out of your sight, you continue struggling with Hange once more, until finally, 20 minutes and some negotiation later, her head's nuzzled up against your neck, legs around your waist as you step into the elevator. 9th floor.

Stepping out of the elevator to find the door to your apartment creaked open, you step inside and push the door shut behind you with your foot before walking up the stairs and to your room to get Hange changed and settled into your bed. After 15 minutes of shimmying her sleeping form into some pyjamas, you walk downstairs to look for Levi.

You check the balcony first and the living room next; that's where you find a snoring Miche in some grey sweatpants and a cotton black tank top, knocked out on your L shaped couch. Sound asleep. Smiling to yourself you walk out and begin walking to the kitchen, growing more and more certain of Levi's whereabouts as you continue to hear clattering and sizzling coming from there.

To your surprise, you stand leaning on the kitchen's doorframe, drinking in the vision that is your jet black haired friend. His sleeves rolled up as he expertly works between the salmon in one frying pan, vegetables in another and some sauce in a pot.

"Must be my birthday," you smirk and push yourself off of the doorframe as you make your way to your wooden kitchen island and seat yourself.

"You amuse me," Levi mumbles monotonously "I saw the ingredients set out after I'd put Miche to bed. Came in to fix myself a cup of tea and thought to have this be my way of thanking you for taking them both in,"

"There's no need to thank me, Levi,"

"I want to," His eyes flit up to meet yours for a short moment before he starts plating up your dinner.

A moment of silence consumes you both when you speak up, "I hope you're not intending for me to eat alone,"

Levi stares at you as he slides you your plate of food and a glass of water. Two ice cubes. He balls his hands into fists and pushes his knuckles into the wooden island; swaying himself back and forth, thinking of whether he should stay or go.

He takes a deep breath and speaks, "I'll eat with you, Y/N," you smile at him and raise your hands up in a victory pose. Levi chuckles softly at your playfulness before making himself a plate and sits down in front of you as you both silently enjoy your dinners.

You finish the last of the washing up and you walk out of the kitchen, once again looking for Levi. Nearing your living room you see him at the entrance of your home, putting on his shoes- you walk down the hallway to him.

"Why didn't you tell me you're leaving? I'll drop you off,"

"No need. It's what Uber is for, no?" cocking an eyebrow at you as he pulls his phone out to order a car.

"What? Levi- wha- no. Why would you do that? Just stay. I'll drop you home tomorrow with Hange and Miche. Save the planet and all," you attempt at bargaining with him. But why? Let him leave. You shouldn't get too close with him, anyway- he'll know otherwise.

Levi scoffs before answering, "And share a car with those morons? Y/N, be serious.. and besides; I can order an electric car. Save the planet," he finishes his point and orders a car.

You exhale deeply through your nose to which he looks up at you for.

"What,"

"You're forever arrogant, aren't you,"

Levi looks to the side, "I don't want to be anymore trouble,"

"That's nonsense, Levi," you move to look him in his eyes. It's quiet for a moment, both of you displaying your best poker faces waiting for the other to speak. Neither one of you does. His phone pings with a notification that his Uber has arrived.

"Great. Now I have to make him wait while I go down your shitty apartment's elevator. This is going to hurt my rating," he mumbles in annoyance as he walks out of your house and frantically presses the elevator button multiple times, as though that will make it arrive quicker.

You follow after and wait next to him. Once the elevator arrives and he steps inside, you manage to yell out to him just as the elevator doors close, "Let me know once you're home!"

The doors are long shut before he's able to respond and you go back inside your house. Your phone vibrates as you lock your door and you open it to see a text message.

Levi: 👍

Shaking your head, you lock your phone and make your way to your room to get changed before you sleep in the guest room for the night.

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desideriumwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Anyone But You | Chapter 5 | F.W. x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary - Reader makes her way to the Quidditch World Cup using a map of confusing directions and a portkey, she finds out who will be at the games with her. After the games, she gets stuck in the midst of an attack, left injured and on her own.

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Category - enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, slowburn

Content Warnings - cursing, arguing, the quidditch world cup attack, depictions of torture? mentions of blood, mentions of fire, crying, injuries, trampling, mass chaos + fear, (tell me if i missed anything)

Word Count - 4.4k

A/N: not really sure what to say for this one! it's truly chaotic is the most i can say lmaoo, hopefully you enjoy it! feedback is greatly appreciated!

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous | Next | Navigation

You folded your pajamas in a neat stack and shoved them in your bag.

You’d spent the past hour packing for tomorrow's events. The Quidditch World Cup games had already started, but you didn’t care all that much.

You tend to claim you're not a huge fan of quidditch, but there has been one or two times you’ve lost your voice from screaming and cheering during a school match.

Anyways, you stood up, taking a billionth look around your bedroom, making sure there was nothing you needed laying around.

Preparing for a single night away from home should not be this stressful.

As your eyes traveled around the room, they stopped once they saw the necklace sitting on your dresser.

The moonstone necklace the twins gave you. It sat there, untouched. It’s stayed in that exact same spot since you tossed it out of your suitcase from when you got home for summer break. It’s been like that all summer.

Until, your mum saw it and fixed it with some simple spell.

Even though it was fixed and in perfect condition, you still hadn’t worn it, nor touched it.

You walked up to it slowly, moving at a pace that made it seem like you were expecting the damn thing to jump and attack you somehow.

Picking it up, you wondered if you should set it along with the outfit you already had laid out for tomorrow. Or if you should shove it in your bag. Or just keep it in its previous spot.

You set it back down, turning away from it and walking to your bed. Only for you to change your mind. Turning back towards it quickly, snatching it up and shoving it into your bag.

You laid in bed, eyes unable to stay closed, and a grin on your face.

Though you knew that in the next week you’ll most likely be stuck with crowds of people in Diagon Alley, gathering school supplies. You had the same excitement as a kid on Christmas Eve, too eager to sleep.

There wasn’t much information given on what today’s plans were.

You didn’t know how you’d get there, or if there would be anyone else going with, or how long the game would last. All you knew was that you were going to the Quidditch World Cup and staying at the campsite for one night.

And a strange list of directions. It had you take a few stops on different trolley cars to get to your spot. The last place you were dropped off was at another stop, so you decided to walk the rest of the way.

The handwriting on the paper with the directions looked familiar, it wasn't Cedric’s however, it was too messy. Maybe it was his fathers. Maybe he’d got it from a friend.

Thinking of it, the paper was never directly given to you by Cedric. Your father gave it to you when a stack of mail came in.

You let your thoughts wander around, imagining how today would go as you began to get closer to the designated spot the directions gave you. It was at “a hill with an old boot on it” according to the paper.

A tall, older man, with wired glasses, a scrubby beard and brown hair stood on top of the hill. Amos Diggory. Cedric’s dad.

As you got farther up, you could spot Cedric, laying down on the grass next to his father, using his bag as a pillow.

Both of their heads shot up and faces changed into a smile once they looked up, seeing you heading towards him.

“Y/N! Good to see you!” Mr.Diggory reached out to shake your hand.

“It’s good to see you too, Mr.Diggory.” You accepted his greeting, shaking his hand and giving him a warm smile back.

“It’s been quite awhile! How’s mum and dad? Doing well?” He asked while the boy behind him sat up. You gave a small “mhm” and nod in response.

Cedric hopped up from his spot on the grass, giving you a tight hug, purposely ruffling up your hair once he pulled away.

“So how’s your summer been? I didn’t get many letters from you.” He jokingly gave you a dramatic pout.

“It’s been lovely. No work, no uniforms, no getting up at the crack of dawn, and no annoying twins.” You sighed happily, you didn’t catch how Cedric’s expression faltered when you mentioned the twins.

“So, shouldn’t we get going? What are we waiting on?” You tried your best to sound as patient as possible, ignoring the excitement running through your veins.

“My dad invited a work friend. We’re just waiting on him I suppose.”

“Should be any moment now!” Amos added in, smilingly nervously and rocking back and forth on his heels.

“He said that about an hour ago.” Cedric whispered to you, “Anyways, what's that?” He gestured at the paper in your hands. You gave him a blank stare, expecting him to know what it was, he was the one who sent you it, right?

“The directions?” You said hesitantly, holding the paper up. “That you sent me?” Cedric's brows knit together, tilting his head to get a straight look at what was written.

“I never sent any directions?” He copied your tone. “Plus, that is not my handwriting.” He scoffed, amused at the scribbles on the page.

“Then who-” Your thoughts were interrupted once chattering and footsteps were heard in the distance.

"Amos!" A voice shouted from a distance. The shout came from Mr. Weasley, who was grinning as he strode closer. A group followed behind him.

All the excitement and joy in your veins was drained out once you saw who was part of that group. Those two dreadful boys. Your jaw tensed at the sight of them.

“Are you kidding me? You didn’t tell me those gits were coming along!” You hissed as you turned back towards Cedric.

“Don’t say that, y/n. The Weasleys are nice people.” Cedric scorned, you rolled your eyes. You were sick of people telling you that, of course they were nice people, they were the sweetest people you ever met, except for two of them.

“I know that! I’m not talking about the Weasley family Cedric, I'm talking about the Weasley twins!” You groaned, the bickering stopped between you two as Mr.Weasley began to speak.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the

Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures! And I believe you

know his son, Cedric?"

“Hi.” Cedric let out, his eyes darting around them all. Everyone greeted back, except the twins, who gave barely a nod, they looked as if they were already miserable.

“Oh, I’m sure everyone remembers Y/N!” Mr.Weasley gestured, you gave an uncomfortable smile and a small wave.

Mr.Weasley and Amos went back into their own separate conversation, as you and Cedric did into your bickering.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You kept your voice low and stern.

“I didn’t tell you because you wouldn’t go! They didn’t have any idea you’d be here either, they don’t even know where we're going!” He scoffed. “Mr.Weasley and my father set this whole thing up! Can’t you push aside your hatred for one night? You won’t even be in the same tent as them, you’ll have your own bed…or you can share one with me.” He joked, giving you an exaggerated smolder.

“You wish.” You shoved him in the chest and let out a slight laugh, slowly forgetting about your bad mood.

The both of you turned your attention back to the older gentlemen. At this point, Amos was gawking at Harry’s presence, he began to unknowingly boast about Cedric and how he beat Harry at Quidditch last year.

The twins were scowling, you caught on quickly to that. It seemed as if they were still upset about losing to Hufflepuff and getting beaten by Cedric in the first Quidditch match of last year.

Cedric, obviously embarrassed, tried to explain it was due to Harry falling off his broom. His father only shrugged that off and continued to speak.

It looked like with every word Amos spoke about his son's win, the scowls on the twins' faces grew. You wanted to laugh, you wished you could laugh. You could only attempt to bite back your smirk.

You turned your attention back to Cedric.

“They don't seem very joyous.” You mocked as you jerked your head in the twins direction.

“Oh come on, I’m sure it’s not personal.” The hufflepuff shrugged it off, you raised your brows at him in disbelief. “But, I would really like to get going now.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes pointed at the boot in his fathers hand.

“So, what is it?” You asked, relating to the shoe.

“It’s a boot.” Fred's voice appeared from beside you. He was standing right there, it scared you for a second. Causing you to whip your head around quickly, you were unsure how he got next to you so quickly and silently.

“Yeah I know that, dimwit.” You sneered at him, “How are we going to use a ruddy old boot to get there?”

“It’s a portkey, dimwit.” He shot back, using your insult. “I’m sure you remember learning about those.” The redhead raised his brows at you, unamused.

“Well, I assume it’s time to get on our way!” Mr.Weasley spoke out, fortunately cutting off all the tension in the air. “Now, all you need to do is touch the portkey.” He said happily as he laid a hand onto the shoe, which was being held out by Amos.

“Glad to know you got here safely with the directions George and I wrote down for you.” He shot you a sarcastic smile as he walked up to the boot, nodding his head at the paper in your hand while passing you.

Your face went from confusion then dropped into irritation.

Everything made sense now. Of course those assholes sent you those puzzling directions.

The paper crumpled around your grasp once you tightened your hands into fists, you wadded up the parchment and shoved it in your pocket.

Once everyone was crowded around in a tight circle, a hand or finger touching the boot. Mr.Weasley stared at his watch and began to count down from three.

Suddenly, you felt your feet detach from the ground, you were flying through the air, it looked like you and everyone else was stuck in the middle of a tornado. You accidentally banged into others while being stuck in the swirl of wind.

Then, you were falling from the sky and heading towards the ground. You used your forearms as a shield for your head as you hit the rough grass.

However, Mr. Weasley, Cedric, and his father were literally walking on air. Their legs moving as if they were walking down an invisible staircase. They landed neatly onto the ground, standing, while everyone else was scattered around them.

You were just about to push yourself up before a body came flying towards you. Letting out a small yelp as you covered your head once again, feeling a weight hit your legs.

Once you removed your arms from your face, Fred was laid uncomfortably across the bottom half of your body.

His back pinning down your left leg while his head and arms were laid across your right.

“Ow! You landed on my legs!” You cried out.

“Whoops, sorry.” Fred smoothed back his hair. “They're not broken are they?” He smiled. You moved around your legs, they were sore, not broken.

“No.” You muttered as you waited for him to fully get off your limb and stand up. “Get off!”

“Right.” pushed himself up and dusted his clothes off from any grass.

“M’lady,” He jokingly bowed and reached out a hand to you, waiting for you to grab it so he could help you up. You ignored his gesture, picking up your bag while getting up without his help, rolling your eyes and shoving past him.

“Everyone up! We still have some walking to do before we get to the campsite!” Mr Diggory called out, everyone else began to pick themselves and their belongings up as they muttered and sighed under their breaths.

Thank Merlin you had your own room in this tent. You would’ve gone mad if you weren’t able to get some amount of isolation to cool down. It was shocking how easily the smallest interaction with Fred could ruin your mood.

You had about an hour before you had to get going. That’d be more than enough time for your irritation to go away.

“I’ve got great news!” Cedric jokingly sang as he pushed open the flaps of the tent leading into your space, making his dramatic entrance.

“What now?” You sat up amused. You assumed from his sarcastic tone that maybe the match had been postponed to a later time or you’d somehow got moved to shitter seats.

“Mr.Weasley invited us to go over to his tent tonight, after the game ends.” He let out quickly, knowing that you are not going to be pleased.

“What?” Your expression dropped. “That means- no! I’m not gonna be stuck in a tent with Fred and George!” You exclaimed, you’d already had your interaction with one of them today, now you would not be dealing with both.

“Well, my dad already agreed. So…” He trailed off. You groaned and fell back on the bed, you were too tired to argue.

“Fine, whatever. Just let me have a moment to myself, please.” You ran your hands down your face.

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, take this also!” He threw a red and black scarf at you, “We’ve got to sport some pride, right?” He shrugged before disappearing behind the flaps of the tent.

Merlin knows how many stairs you had to climb to get up there, your legs began to hurt once you made it to your seats.

Cedric and you were the first to make it to your spot. The seats that were set at the highest point of the stadium. The Weasley party was not far behind you.

As Fred walked up, you let out a small laugh of disbelief due to his appearance. He had a large three-leafed clover painted on his face, a white and green scarf hung around his neck, and wore a cartoonishly large white and green top hat.

While George only had stripes of white and green painted on his cheeks and Ginny wore a large Leprechaun hat.

Fred had truly outdone the others and himself.

Cedric noticed the laugh you let out and was not going to let you get away with that.

“Are you smiling at him?” Cedric looked at you with disbelief, but he sounded excited that you were smiling, almost like he was waiting for this to happen.

“I’m laughing at him.” You corrected him. “And it’s only because he looks like an idiot.” The small smile was still on your face. Cedric's eyes analyzed your expression.

“Sure.” He narrowed his eyes at you. You ignored him, looking around the large stadium.

A tall figure slid up next to you, and it sure as hell wasn’t Cedric.

"Aw, did you miss me?" Fred cooed, tilting his head.

"Absolutely not." You spat out the last word, your smile dissolving and a grimace taking over your face instead.

Just before you could get another snarky response out, a string of players flew past your head. The strong wind from their brooms nearly made Fred’s hat fly off.

The stadium roared and boomed with cheers from excited fans as more players from the teams flew out. You felt like your eardrums would burst with how loud the twins were.

They only got louder once Viktor Krum flew out.

“Who’s that?” Ginny shouted to her brothers.

“That, sis, is the best seeker in the world!” George exclaimed as he pointed at the Bulgarian wizard excitedly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be cheering for Ireland?” You narrowed your eyes at him and scoffed.

“Yeah, but who doesn’t love Krum!” Fred and George said in unison, George went back to screaming and cheering as players flew past on their brooms. Fred’s eyes averted to your neck, you noticed.

Do not let them ruin your night. Do not let them ruin your night. Do not let them ruin your-

“You know what I haven’t seen in a while, George?” Fred nudged his twin, getting him to look back over. “That necklace we made for her.” A smirk took over both of their faces as George decided to join in.

“Yeah, what happened to that? I reckon you wore it for a bit, then one day it just vanished.” George added in, peeking over Fred’s shoulder.

“I got rid of it. Could you two just watch the bloody game?” You turned your attention to the stadium, not wanting to be reminded of that embarrassing day in the library, the day you stopped wearing the stupid piece of jewelry they’d given you.

Not long after, Cedric returned, and this time, he stood between you and those red-headed boys. Freeing you from being pestered any more.

Despite the final game lasting over two hours, it went by fast.

And despite being near the twins, you had a good time overall.

The twins nearly fell out of their seats when Ireland won. They were screaming joyfully at each other. It was something about money and winning a bet. You could barely hear them over the rest of the stadium.

You secretly giggled as they jumped up and down like little girls.

Your time at the Weasleys tent wasn’t as bad as you expected. You talked with Hermione and Ginny some, while Ron preached about Krum to the entire tent.

“There's no one like Krum!” Ron shouted as he stood up on the small ottoman next to a chair.

“Krum? Dumb Krum?” Both Fred and George began to repeat this nickname to Ron, acting as if they weren’t cheering for him in the stands.

“He's like a bird the way he rides the wind!” He went on, sounding as if he was performing slam poetry.

“Dumb Krum!” The twins chanted as they ran around him, flapping their arms, mimicking the look that baby birds have when learning how to fly. Fred took the flag he had draped around him and threw it over Ron’s head.

“He's more than an athlete! He's an artist!” Ron cried out as he took the flag off.

“I think you're in love, Ron.” Ginny giggled, Ron only let out a muttered “Shut up.” in response.

“Viktor, I love you!” George began to sing loudly as he grabbed onto Ron’s hand, Fred grabbed onto his other.

“Oh Viktor, I do!” Fred sang mockingly while getting down on one knee. This led to Harry choosing to sing along.

“When we're apart my heart beats only for you!” The three sang to a frowning Ron, who was still standing on the ottoman, shoulders slouched.

Screams and blasts coming from outside interrupted their singing.

“Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on.” Fred said amusedly as he stood up, not bothering to get a full look outside at what was happening.

He grabbed a cushion and was preparing to join in on a fight between Ron and George when his father came rushing in.

“Stop!” Mr.Weasley shouted at them, getting the attention of everyone in the tent.

“It’s not the Irish.” His voice was stern and there was panic filling up in his face. “We’ve got to get out of here. Now.” His tone of voice didn’t make it sound like a suggestion, everyone began to run out the tent.

Outside was pure chaos.

Terror.

Tents were crushed and lit on fire. People were running into the woods, screaming, apparating, trying to get away from something.

You stood frozen in fear at the sight not far from you.

A group of hooded, masked wizards had their wands pointed upright, above them was a group of four floating in the air. Their figures being contorted and twisted into disturbing shapes. Something you’d see out of a horror movie.

“We’re going to help the Ministry.” Mr.Weasley's voice got your attention, he was standing next to Cedric’s father. “You lot, get back to the portkey and stick together!” He ordered as he took out his wand. Automatically you began to move towards Cedric.

“Fred and George, Ginny is your responsibility!” Mr.Weasley shouted before running off. Fred grabbed onto Ginny's hand and started heading towards the forest with George.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione grouped together and ran off with them.

“Here, I think I know a separate path!” Cedric shouted as grabbed onto your arm.

“You think? Or you know?” You questioned him, your feet stuck in place.

“Can you not do- Would you just trust me?” He bellowed out before he began to run, his hand still gripped around your arm, pulling you with him.

You ran for what felt like ages, constantly bumping into people and dodging fallen over remains of tents and trees.

You could see the forest in the distance when you heard a blast right next to you.

Suddenly, you were being knocked over by strong, hot, wind. It was strong enough to where Cedric lost his grip on your forearm. You hit the ground and your head hit something too.

Cedric tried to turn and run back to you, it seemed impossible due to the crowds pushing him, he could move with the crowd and not against, leaving you there.

You brought your hand to the side of your head, feeling a warm liquid smudge onto your fingers and you put your hand in front of your eyes, blood.

You weren’t able to process the fact that your head had just been busted open for long once more crowds of people began to run through, many accidentally kicking or stepping on you while rushing to get out.

All you could do was just lay there, groaning and trying to stay conscious as you were repeatedly hit. Your weakened limbs weren’t much help when trying to pick yourself up.

Even if you could get up, you wouldn’t know where to go. Cedric was out of sight and people were running in different directions.

You don’t remember how long you were stuck on the ground for. Maybe it was only a minute, maybe five, maybe ten. Who knows. It felt like forever.

Only remembering the horrible feeling of hundreds of scared and panicked feet running over you, on you, or accidentally kicking you, few people tripping over you, only to get back up and continue running. The wet tears sliding down the side of your face and the taste of metallic in your mouth, the smell of sweat and smoke filling your lungs.

You could see the dirt footprints from peoples shoes all over your legs, stomach, everywhere, some blood too.

You couldn’t tell if it was others or your own.

You started to lose all hope of someone helping, you chose to close your eyes and depressedly wish your body would go numb or that you would fall unconscious so you wouldn’t have to feel the pain anymore.

“Hey! Help me get her up!” A voice shouted as you felt someone lift you up by the underneath of your armpits. You were being dragged away from your spot on the ground and through the fiery campsite, you couldn’t even hold up the weight of your own head.

Eventually you heard the same voice mutter the words “Fuck it.” and you were no longer being dragged, you were being picked up and held bridal style. You were able to use enough of the little strength you had left to get a good look at who was holding you.

You lifted up your head and saw the last person you’d expect to see.

“Fred?” You mumbled, your eyes squinted and your head dizzy.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’re gonna get you help.” Fred said as he ran, his breathing heavy and panicked.

The orange flames all around lit up his face, you scanned it with your eyes, taking in the details.

Has he always had so many freckles?

Has his hair always looked so soft?

Have his eyelashes always been so long?

It must've been the fumes of the smoke getting to you, causing these thoughts.

Fred would occasionally look down at you while running, making sure you were still conscious. You saw the look on his face, the look of shock, of worry, of panic, of fear.

Your eyesight began to get blurry, it was getting more and more difficult to keep your eyes open and your head up. Your body gave in, your head fell back, you went limp. Fred was cursing to himself.

“Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.” He uttered, breathing heavily as he caught up to his family.

You had small moments of consciousness, constantly fading in and out. It was a struggle to keep your eyes from going blurry, you were only able to get a clear look of the night sky, trees above you, and occasionally Fred's face.

You remembered bits and pieces of conversation between the group once he had reached the rest of them.

“Where were- oh Merlin, what happened?” A similar voice to Fred’s called out, most likely George.

“She must’ve tripped or got knocked over, people were trampling her.”

“Fred, is that your blood?” Ginny pointed out, she noticed the fresh stains of blood covering the sleeve of his cardigan.

“No. It’s hers. Possibly. I think she hit her head somehow, she’s injured somewhere.”

Large running footsteps were heard coming towards you.

“Dad!” You heard Ginny call out.

“Are you all- oh dear, is she-“ It was an older man's voice, most likely Mr.Weasley. You cut off his question with a groan of agony.

“Well, that shows she’s alive.” George quipped in with some poorly timed humor.

“Wait, where have Ron and Harry and Hermione gone?” Mr.Weasley stressed.

One of the loudest explosions shook the ground, you felt the vibration as your arms and legs dangled around when Fred ducked down.

“We’ll search for them, get the girls to the portkey, go!” Arthur commanded, Fred shook his head frantically, you felt him begin to run, stress filling his face.

“Don’t get her hurt anymore than she already is!” Arthur called out from a distance.

You couldn’t remember anything after that. You’d lost consciousness for the last time.

Fred kept his eyes on you the entire time you were both flying and falling through the portkey, focused only on you, he used his body as a shield when you both hit the ground, hoping neither of your bones broke.

tell me what you thought! :) or ask tba to the taglist!

TAGLIST: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @five-seconds-flat @nal-leo-17 @rhunew @albertdabuttler @weak-aesthetic @whotfskai @m00nymarauder @miaandthediamonds @hpstuff244444 @tarzanathetumblingwarrior

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley smut #harry potter fandom #weasley twins #anyone but you fic #anyone but you series

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oddinary4bts · 2 years ago

Text

The Forgotten Spaces | ch 5 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: a cancer joke about eating a burned marshmallow, mentions about Jungkook's injury/scars, alcohol, curses, a hot tub, a game of Truth or Dare; explicit content: hickeys, grinding, fingering, jerking off, big dick!Jungkook, unprotected sex (please don't be stupid), choking; angst

☆word count: 15.7k (oop)

☆series masterpost here

☆a/n: SMUT IS HERE EVERYONE. I hope you enjoy reading this one!! Thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, July 6th

It’s a strange thing, how when you’ve been working on something for months, the concretisation of it passes so quickly it’s like it never happened. The auditions were like that: you barely remember yesterday. All you remember is the moment you stepped out of the scene, breath ragged, and Jungkook high-fived the whole crew.

You don’t remember listening to the results. You remember the bubbling excitement as the name of the crew wasn’t said until the very last. But you don’t remember hearing the mention you got. The highest of every crew that auditioned from your state.

Because auditions for nationals are also a competition in and of itself. An innerstate competition, and you still can’t believe you got the highest mention of your level. It’s like a dream, and everything has been moving too slow, or too fast, for you to interpret.

Yesterday was a fever dream indeed. And the whole crew knows that it’s thanks to Jungkook. He refuses every congratulation you’ve all offered him, but it’s him. You wouldn’t have gotten the diamond mention without him.

Diamond… a perfect score. You landed a perfect score on your auditions to nationals.

You will get ripped up to pieces at nationals, won’t you? It makes you anxious, but then again, you’re not sure if it’s because you will have to perform at the top of your art in a few months, or because you’re sitting between Jungkook and Heather on the backseat of Hobi’s car.

Probably the latter.

You’re lucky. You were able to rent a cottage an hour and a half outside of the city, next to a small artificial lake. It was previously rented by another group, but they cancelled a few days ago, which let you have the cottage for the whole weekend.

But you don’t think you’re lucky to be sitting between Jungkook and Heather. Though both of them have been dozing off for a while.

You’ve just been clutching your phone for dear life, because Jungkook’s head lolled to the side until he found your shoulder to be a pillow. It’s not that you mind it. You mostly mind the way Jiho’s been looking at you with the biggest shit-eating grin on her lips. She’s already taken pictures, and you’ve been planning her murder for the last fifteen minutes.

[2:37 pm] Jiho❣️: attached photo [2:37 pm] Jiho❣️: u’re so mad lmao [2:38 pm] You: delete this picture immediately or i’ll end ur miserable life [2:38 pm] Jiho❣️: 😘😘😘😘😘 [2:38 pm] You: 😤😤😤😤😤 [2:38 pm] You: and Scottie deciding not to come???? Even worse [2:38 pm] You: he’s a traitor😩 [2:39 pm] Jiho❣️: u’re just mad bc now u and jk are the only single people attending [2:39 pm] You: last i checked heather and bridget weren’t official official🙄

Jiho snorts on the front passenger seat, and Hobi throws her a curious look. She shakes her head to indicate that it’s nothing, and you watch as she types her reply.

[2:40 pm] Jiho❣️: bitch plz😂 [2:40 pm] You: besides u’re gonna share a room with me🥺

Jiho laughs out loud this time, and you wonder if the glare you bore into her profile has any effect at all. She just glances at you, an eyebrow cocked prettily. You know what that means: no. No she won’t be sleeping with you. You’re going to have to sleep on the couch, because couples get the rooms. Lance made that rule, and even though you were desperate to not let it take effect, everyone but Jungkook was against you.

You’re not usually in agreement with Jungkook. But for that you were, and you hoped the others would take it into account. You’re stupid for thinking that they would.

Jungkook sighs in his sleep, readjusting himself until he’s even closer to you. You gulp, glancing at him with a scared look on your features. You want to push him away, but he looks so peaceful you just let him be.

[2:44 pm] You: why is he sleeping on me tho [2:45 pm] Jiho❣️: i’d sleep on u too [2:45 pm] You: u can if we share a room👉🏼👈🏼 [2:45 pm] Jiho❣️: nice try but no😇

You whine, and Jiho chuckles.

“What’s up with you two?” Hobi asks, and you meet his gaze in the rear view mirror.

Jiho shrugs. “Y/n is just mad that she’s going to sleep on the couch.

“I can let her sleep with you,” Hobi says, ever so the pacifist and kind man that he is.

“Yes!” you burst out.

It gains you a whine from Jungkook and a glare from Heather, before she rests her head back against the window and dozes off again.

“No,” Jiho refuses. “I want my sexy time.”

Hobi burns bright red as you let out, “Ew”.

Jiho winks at you over her shoulder, and then you all fall silent again. The cottage is still at least fifty minutes away, so you steel yourself as Jungkook shifts again. He mumbles in his sleep and you almost let out a startled yelp when his hand moves on your thigh. He’s not holding you, just resting his closed fist on the top of your thigh. But it’s still way too much touching for your comfort, so you push him away.

He frowns but doesn’t wake up, resting his head against the window with a sigh instead. His mouth falls open a little, and you keep a laugh in. He looks stupidly cute like that. It’s a disgusting thought – Jeon Jungkook is anything but cute – but you let it slide for today. Maybe because you can’t bring yourself to care.

You eventually fall asleep, the low music Jiho’s been playing lulling you to sleep. It’s much deserved sleep after all the anxiety of yesterday, and you only wake when the car comes to a full stop, and car doors slam shut.

You wake up with a start, ready to fight whoever made the noises, and you realize you’re alone in the car. With Jungkook, who has a tight-lipped smile on his lips when your gazes meet.

“You drool when you sleep,” he tells you, and you furrow your brow as you wipe your cheek.

Sure enough, you were drooling. It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s got a wet spot on his shoulder, and you reckon you woke up with your head rested against something. Something that suspiciously felt like Jungkook’s shoulders.

“Mmh,” you sleepily let out. “Sorry.”

He smiles. Sweetly. It starts with his eyes, as you’ve realized it usually happens when he smiles genuinely. “It’s all good. You looked peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

You echo his smile, nodding your head once before stretching your arms. It makes you yawn, which in turn makes him laugh. “What?” you ask.

“You slept like thirty minutes and you’re still tired.”

You glare at him. “I’m always tired.”

“Right.”

It’s a weird conversation, and it’s even weirder that you’re still sitting in the car. So you motion towards the door as you unbuckle your seatbelt, and Jungkook has a light tint on his cheeks as he nods and opens the door before stepping out. He stretches when he’s outside, and you scooch out of the car, imitating him as soon as your feet touch the ground.

“Gosh,” you let out, and he laughs.

“Yeah.”

You glance at him, and then your gaze slides to the landscape surrounding you. To the picturesque cottage that looks even better than what you had pictured, all made of logs. It looks straight out of a fairy tale. It’s cozied up in a little forest, and the wind that picked up earlier today still makes the leaves dance. It’s loud, like the sound of waves at sea, but it’s more constant. It doesn’t recede, and it creates a background soundtrack to the summer afternoon. The sun is still high in the sky, shining bright with not even a single cloud in sight. The air smell of the woods, and bugs fly around aimlessly, or following an aim only they know. The car is parked in the shadows, but you still feel the heat, and you’re glad there’s a breeze.

You take it all in with a bright smile on your lips, and it only grows wider when Jiho and Hobi rush out of the cottage.

“This is heaven,” Jiho declares. “I’m never leaving this place.”

“She says that because she saw the hot tub from the balcony,” Hobi says as he motions over his shoulder to the cottage.

It makes you laugh, and it turns into a giggle as Jiho grabs your hand and pulls you behind her. “While you men unpack the car we’re going to take a walk to the lake.”

“How is that fair?” Jungkook complains, but he’s grinning when you meet his gaze over your shoulder. You offer him an apologetic shrug of your shoulders, and he just chuckles before turning towards the car.

Lance’s car is pulling up the dirt road when you turn on the side of the house. You wave at Chaeyeon and him, but they don’t notice you as Jiho only keeps pulling you behind her.

“Look at this!” she says giddily as you walk to the back of the house. “It’s so pretty.”

It really is. The house is nestled right next to a small lake, with a few trees separating the building and the water. There’s a hot tub on the right, and a small rock path that leads to a quay in the water. You notice a fireplace area, though it’s not a circle of rocks like you had imagined, but an actual metal fireplace with a door that’s currently swinging on its hinges in the wind. Logs are piled beside it, just waiting for someone to ignite a fire.

Jiho’s giddiness is contagious, and you find yourself giggling as she pulls you towards the lake. There’s a small shed down by the lake, and a look through the window shows you two kayaks. It makes you even giddier, and you clap your hands before turning towards the quay.

The quay moves as you step on it. Fortunately, the water is not very deep and the lake is relatively calm even with the wind. You’re able to make it to the end of it without it shaking too much, and Jiho closes her eyes as she tilts her head back. “We should come here every weekend.”

You laugh. “As fun as that sounds like, we can’t skip practice every weekend.”

“We can practice here,” she points out, shrugging.

She’s not wrong, so you just smile and nod before imitating her, taking in the sun. But you feel a little bad for those inside that are setting up the house, so it’s not even a minute later when you say, “We should go help the others”.

Jiho whines, and she opens one eye to look at you. You cock an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

You walk back up the little slope until you reach the cottage. When you make it to the front, you see that a third car has arrived: Jin, Valeria, Taehyung, Jo and Bridget are all stretching outside of it. Jo notices you and waves happily.

You think it’s funny that she is here. It’s weird to think that even though she isn’t part of the dance crew, she’s still made her way into the friend group. Like Jin, Valeria and Taehyung, you reckon. Though you barely know Jin and Valeria. But you needed more people to rent this cottage, and considering it was the only one available, you didn’t really have a choice.

You move to their group to greet them, and then you help them unpack the car. You also help Lance, who was the one in charge with food and speakers for music. It takes a moment, but soon enough everything is settled. You’re all already hungry though, so you prepare the first meal of the weekend.

Well, you watch Jungkook, Jin, Valeria and Heather prepare it. You’re on washing dishes duty though, but you’ll only do that after you eat.

It’s fun. Cheerful. A little bubble outside of the seriousness of practice and nationals and auditions that you really can’t remember, can you? The light atmosphere is much needed, and you drink as you eat, and drink some more after washing the dishes. Then you all set out to explore outside, and Lance and Jin have a fire running by the time Jungkook figures out how to get the hot tub working. It’s still hot outside though, so you decide to wait before going into the tub, but Bridget, Heather, Chaeyeon and Jo all move to it. You stay with Jiho and the others by the fire, listening to the cracking of the logs as you talk and talk and talk.

There’s laughter. A lot of it. Laughter that turns more drunk as the evening unfolds, and the sun has set by the time you get up from your spot to go pee inside. The girls have come out of the tub, and they’re taking turns in the shower upstairs, so you head to the downstairs bathroom. You’re on the way out when Jo stops you.

She says your name, offering you a bright smile. “Are you in for some shots before we head outside? I’m taking some with the others.”

Sure enough, Chaeyeon, Bridget and Heather all look at you expectantly, and you don’t hesitate even a second before agreeing. You go outside with Jo and Chaeyeon after, as you all laugh when Bridget and Heather say they’ll take a shower together. You figure it’s better to let them have the house for a time, and you all join the rest of the group by the fire.

They’ve started playing some music and singing over it, and you laugh as Hobi belts a tune as if his life depends on it. Jungkook joins him and your eyes widen a little as you hear his voice.

Jungkook can sing. His voice is melodious, clear and full and round. It’s beautiful, the voice of an angel. You feel struck as you watch him, and he bursts out laughing when Hobi messes up the lyrics next to him.

You’ve stopped walking. And Jungkook meets your gaze, offering you a small smile before returning to the action around him. It strikes you, in a weird kind of way. It makes a weird feeling form in your chest, that same feeling you felt last week when you saved his number in your phone.

It’s not a feeling you like. So you push it aside as you join Jiho in her chair, sitting on her lap and stealing the bottle of soju she’s been drinking from. You need more alcohol in your blood, and soon.

It’s night by the time the group moves again. Some of them decide to go to the lake, but you stay by the fire as Valeria and Jin bring marshmallows out. Heather and Bridget never came out after their shower, and you don’t quite feel like going inside to find them.

Instead, you start roasting marshmallows, and soon enough you’re the elected marshmallow roaster, because you’re the only one who’s managed to not make them catch fire. You make some for everyone, before roasting one for yourself.

Since Jungkook has been the one feeding the fire for the last hour, it also makes it so you’re sitting next to him. The conversation is lively around you, but you’ve noticed he’s silent. He’s just staring at the fire, and it casts a dancing glow on his features.

He notices you looking at him, and his features soften as he turns to look at you. And then he bursts out laughing, and you do too as you notice your marshmallow has caught fire.

“Oops,” you mumble.

“I know I’m pretty but you should focus on the job at hand,” he teases you.

You punch him in the shoulder, before blowing on the fire until it dies. “Still edible if you ask me,” you say as you eye the burned thing on the branch you’ve been using since you started roasting marshmallows.

“Oh, clearly,” he agrees. “If you want to get cancer, that is.”

You glare at him, and he only laughs. “What’s life without a little risk?”

“Boring,” he answers wisely, face falling serious, though he only manages to keep the serious look for a few seconds before he’s breaking into yet another fit of laughter. One you echo before taking a bite of the marshmallow. You hum in delight, and Jungkook says, “What the fuck was that?”

You have the decency to blush. “What?”

“You’re not really the kind of person that moans when they eat good food?”

“I wasn’t moaning,” you let out outrageously.

It gains everybody’s attention around the fire, and Jungkook laughs at you. You shove him in the shoulder again, but he annoyingly barely moves in his chair.

“Who’s moaning?” Lance asks.

Both you and Jungkook look startled for a time, and you glare at him. “No one, Jeon’s just being a little shit.”

“What’s new?” Jiho jokes, and everyone laughs.

The trio that went to the lake comes back – Taehyung, Jo and Hobi. Jo scans the people around the fire, brows knitting together.

“Where are Bridget and Heather?”

The whole group laughs. “They never came out,” Chaeyeon admits. “I’d advise to not go looking for them.”

Jo snorts. “Oof yeah, that’s a no for me.”

It’s not even that funny, yet everyone laughs as the trio settles around the fireplace. Hobi and Jiho share a chair, and you realize there’s no chair for Jo and Taehyung. You’re about to offer yours when they just sit directly in the grass, giggling like the two idiots in love that they are. They lie down after a few seconds, and Jo points up at the sky.

It makes you look up, and you suddenly feel very small, under the immensity of the night sky. It sobers you up, just a little, and you sit back in the chair to get a good look. You admire the stars and constellations, searching for those you know. It leads to everyone doing so, and it also creates a calmer atmosphere, until half the group is dozing off in their chair.

Someone changed the music to softer tunes, and you really listen to the night sounds now, as the melody entwines with the cracking of the logs. Soon enough, Jin and Valeria decide to go to bed. Jungkook immediately teases the older guy, saying that only elderly people go to bed so early. Jin just throws a marshmallow at Jungkook, who receives it right on the forehead. He looks stunned, and he raises his middle finger at Jin as he just laughs where he’s leading Valeria inside. Chaeyeon and Lance are the next to go, and your gaze trails them until they stop to kiss. You give them privacy then, focusing on the fire instead.

It leaves only you, Jungkook, Jo, Taehyung, Jiho and Hobi by the fire, and you sigh in content as Jungkook throws another log into the fire.

“Last one, I assume?” he lets out.

The group mumbles in agreement.

“We’ll party harder tomorrow,” Jiho promises before yawning.

It makes everyone yawn, and you laugh tired laughs as you watch the flames licking up the log.

“We should set up a beer pong table,” you suggest.

Taehyung seems to spark to life at the idea. “I’m so in for some beer pong.”

“What about a tournament?” Jungkook proposes. “Losers have to jump in the lake.”

Jiho winces. “I hope Hobi’s good because there’s no way in hell I’m jumping in the lake.”

“I got you, babe.”

You notice them exchanging a long look. It’s filled with love, grossly so, and you roll your eyes before settling your gaze on the stars above once more. You let out a happy yelp when a shooting star crosses the sky.

“Oh my God!”

Jo is just as happy as you are. “Oh shit!” she echoes. “We have to make a wish.”

You laugh, nodding your head repeatedly. The four others just look at you curiously, before Jo explains that there was a shooting star.

Everyone’s eyes are back on the night sky in no time, and you reckon you might fall asleep like this.

Stargazing, and wishing that you’ll find your own person soon enough.

Saturday, July 7th

“I’ll kill you.”

Jungkook smiles, and the breeze of the afternoon catches in his hair, making a strand fall in his eyes. He pushes his hair back. “I’d like to see you try.”

Something changed. He knows something changed between the two of you. It’s exciting, in a childish kind of way. He feels young next to you, and he’s been following you around all day, claiming that he wants to avoid the couples. Which is not entirely a lie, but he mostly wants to be around you.

It’s a new feeling. Or almost entirely new, because he felt like that around you once before. The night after he told you about his accident. He’s pushed that away since then, but it seems being here, at this cottage in the middle of nature, brings it out.

He’s been failing at pushing it away since last night, and he reckons he doesn’t even want to try anymore.

You put your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. Your hair sways in the wind, and he wants to brush it behind your shoulder. He resists, because he’s pretty sure you’ll bite his head off if he does.

“You’re the one that suggested kayaking.”

He did. But throwing you in the water seems like twice the fun, so he’s been teasing you about it as you stand next to the shed.

“Maybe it was just a trap?” he says, winking at you. He takes a step towards you, and you immediately take a step back.

Jo and Taehyung are sitting on the quay, watching the water and talking in hushed tones. Jungkook feels Jo’s gaze on him, and he resists glancing at her.

He knows what she thinks. She’s made it pretty clear in the last week. Maybe it’s contributed to the softness in him whenever he watches you.

Maybe.

“You’re annoying.”

“But yet you came with me?”

You squint your eyes, shaking your head. “Not with you. I came to kayak.”

“Right.”

“I swear.”

He bursts out laughing, and it’s his turn to shake his head. “Of course, of course.”

“Why are you…” you start before letting out a strangled sound. “I’m going back to the house.”

“No!” he immediately says, a little louder than necessary. This time, both Taehyung and Jo look at you two. “I’m just teasing, let me bring the kayak out.”

He’s blushing. He feels it coming up slowly from deep within his chest, so he quickly turns towards the shed and goes in. A few spiders are hiding in their webs, and he swats one away from the first kayak. He almost hesitates to leave it in just to spook you, but he doesn’t really want to spook you right now. Not when his heart is beating just a little quicker.

He doesn’t know if he likes it. But he’ll roll with it for the rest of the weekend, because he doesn’t think he’ll have the opportunity to do so after that.

He brings out the two kayaks before going back for the paddles, and a moment later he’s helping you to sit in yours, holding your hand while you step in it before sitting. Jo and Taehyung are watching now, barely even talking, and Jungkook can’t wait until you’ve moved away from the quay.

He hates the way the couple has been watching you both. It feels like he’s under pressure, and he knows he doesn’t do well under pressure. Except when it came to dance, but that’s long gone now.

He gets into his own kayak as you’re already starting to move away.

“Bye losers,” you say towards Taehyung and Jo.

“Try not to drown,” Jo replies as she waves you off.

You laugh, a crystal clear laugh that makes Jungkook very aware of how Taehyung is looking at him. He catches his older friend’s gaze, furrowing his brow.

Taehyung glances down at Jungkook’s attire – a pair of pants. He looks like he wants to say something, and Jungkook knows what.

He’s not going to wear shorts. Not when it’d put his scar on display to the whole crew. He hasn’t gotten the courage to tell everyone yet, and he doesn’t want to be forced to explain anything. He just wants to focus on being in the present, because he hasn’t done that in a while.

So he glares at Taehyung, clenching his jaw. Taehyung sighs before looking away. Just like that the moment passes, and Jungkook settles in his kayak before quickly following you.

“Is it a race or something?” he asks as he moves closer.

You look at him over your shoulder, a bright smile on your lips that turns mischievous as soon as your gaze finds his. “It is and you’re losing.”

Now, bringing out his competitive side is a bad idea, but that’s who you are, isn’t it?

Jungkook pushes the paddle in the water harder, accelerating his rhythm. It makes you screech, and you quickly do the same. Your lean arms are nothing against his though, and he’s caught up to you in no time. Unable to resist, he splashes water on you.

“Jungkook!” you scream. “I’m trying not to wet my hair!”

“Oh are you?” He does it again, this time purposefully aiming for your head. You dodge but to no avail.

“I’ll murder you,” you threaten, and you send water flying his way.

He barely gets any on himself, and he cocks an eyebrow arrogantly. “Is that the best you can do?”

It pisses you off. He sees it in the way resolve fills your face, and he’s not surprised he’s thoroughly drenched by the time you finally stop. He’s just accepted defeat and let you splash him as he laughs. You laugh too, and he reckons it’s his favourite thing about you.

The way you laugh when you’re being a brat. It’s endearing.

He’s endeared by you. That’s what the feeling is. He’s been trying to put words on it since last night. Last night it was struck. He was struck as you spoke to him with that soft edge to you. And then it turned to endearment.

He reckons he missed you, while he was hiding from all of the crew because of his accident. He really did. Something about you was missing from his life.

He pushes the thoughts away as you stop splashing him.

“Oops,” you say when he meets your gaze.

His hair is wet, and he puts the paddle down to push it back. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes follow his motion, and the furrow of your brows before you frustratingly look away.

“I’m debating making you fall in the water,” he teases, pursing his lips before playing with his piercing.

Your gaze widens. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He moves his paddle in the water to get closer to you, and you quickly move away.

“I would definitely dare,” he tells you. “I’m all wet because of you.”

His brows knit together as he realizes what he just said sounded suspicious. Of course you burst out laughing, before saying, “That’s what she said”.

He rolls his head to the back of his head. “Lame.”

“You’re lame,” you counter-back.

It’s like that for the rest of the time you spend on the water. Even though he threatened to throw you in the water many times today, Jungkook doesn’t really want to do it. He likes the peace between the two of you: he’s not going to do something to fuck it up.

You eventually get bored of kayaking, and you switch places with Chaeyeon and Bridget when the two of you return to the quay. Jo and Taehyung have gone back to the house, but Lance, Heather, Jin and Valeria are there, and you sit with them for a while, just talking.

Mindlessly, Jungkook pulls his shirt up to dry his face from the last of the water you splashed on him before getting out of the water.

He realizes his mistake only when the shirt falls back in place, and Lance is watching him with round eyes.

“What’s that scar?”

Jungkook stills. Unmoving, barely even able to breathe. The air is suddenly less warm, and he can almost see the snow again. His heart constricts in his chest, and he just stares back at Lance as if he’s a doe caught in headlights.

“You don’t just ask people why they have scars, Lance,” you grumble.

It surprises Jungkook that you said something. But then again you’re not the type to back down from a fight.

Lance seems startled by the tone of your voice. He frowns as his gaze slides to you. “It was just a question?”

“It could make people uncomfortable?”

Jin is looking at Jungkook. He’s got a careful expression on his features, and he looks between you and Jungkook a couple of times. As if this moment matters, and truthfully it does matter to Jungkook, because you’re bickering with Lance and it entirely shifted the attention away from him.

Jungkook manages to shrug his shoulders at Jin, who offers him a no-bullshit look. Valeria punches him in the arm, and Jin lets out a startled sound that has everyone looking at him.

The moment passes, and it’s dinner time when Lance moves closer to Jungkook, clearly having waited until you aren’t around to actually approach him. Jungkook steels himself for the questioning, but Lance only says, “Whatever happened, I’m glad you’re okay, bro”.

It renders Jungkook speechless, and all he can do is nod his head at Lance. Lance claps him on the shoulder, and he immediately walks away, as if his job here is done.

And maybe it is, and all he wanted to do was prove that he’s Jungkook’s friend. It makes Jungkook appreciate him ten times more, and then he takes a moment to really look at everyone. The girls are all laughing about a story Jin is telling, and Taehyung is just shaking his head in disbelief where he’s grilling the meat for dinner. Lance moves towards Taehyung to offer help, and Jungkook just stays alone for a moment, enjoying the scene.

The sun is setting, the air is warm and the light breeze from today has fallen. But the air is not still, and it smells of the rich soil of the forest, and of the meat Taehyung is grilling. The sky is still void of any clouds, and it’s turned to a rich golden glow from the setting sun.

Jungkook is stricken, once again, by the fact that he is alive. He’s alive and breathing and even though his leg hurts, he’s standing. He’s standing and walking and yes he can’t dance anymore, but there’s so much more to life than dance, isn’t there?

His eyes slide to you as he thinks the thought. You’re looking at Jin with a little smirk, the one he knows you use when you’re judging someone. But you feel his eyes on you and your gaze meets his. The smirk falls into a small, secretive smile, and Jungkook breathes in sharply.

His heart is beating a little louder, and this time he does push it away. He does try not to think of it, but it’s hard when you look at him like that. With that soft edge he saw yesterday. It fills him with wonder, the same wonder he got from watching the night sky the day before.

You’re like a star in a bleary night. It’s hard to look away from you, and he only does so when Taehyung says the meat is ready. It’s like someone cut the string between you and him, and he almost stumbles forward as he glances to Taehyung.

He gulps, taking a deep, steadying breath before he moves to help Taehyung bring the food to the table. Lance helps too, and the three of them together make quick work of filling everyone’s plate, and Jungkook soon settles down in a chair next to you, right in front of Jo.

Dinner is fun. Cheery, with lots of laughter. Everyone is already a little tipsy from the day-drinking you’ve all done, and Jungkook feels like there’s more than alcohol in his blood this evening. There are feelings, joy and happiness to be here in this moment.

He should live in the moment more often.

“Hey JK,” Jo says, and he raises his eyes from his plate.

His fork is halfway to his mouth when he lets out, “Uh?”

“How is it going with Laura?”

Everything inside of him stills, like it did earlier today with Lance but for a completely different reason this time. He freezes, and he doesn’t miss the way your head immediately snaps towards him at Jo’s question.

Jo has an insufferable smile on her lips, and Jungkook just can’t move.

Laura. She’s a girl from his class that started texting him a few weeks ago. He’s seen her once, just because she said she had questions about her camera and it would be easier if Jungkook answered in person. Laura is a sweet girl. Pretty too, but Jungkook doesn’t know if their talking will lead anywhere. He doesn’t feel like he’s ready to jump headfirst into a relationship.

Especially not as he feels your expectant gaze on his profile.

“Laura?” he repeats.

“Didn’t you go on a date with her?” Jo asks.

Jungkook frowns, shaking his head. “It wasn’t a date,” he points out. “She needed help with her new camera.”

About that. Jungkook brought a camera with him this weekend. He’s been taking pictures once in a while, mostly of nature. Because he’s always been more of a landscape photographer. Maybe because landscapes tend to change less than people. They feel unbreakable, immovable, and it’s reassuring in some way.

“That sounds like the lamest start of a porno,” Lance jokes.

Everyone laughs. Everyone but you and Jungkook. Jungkook only shrugs, before saying, “I didn’t sleep with her”.

You scoff next to him. It aggravates him, something you haven’t made him feel in a while now. His brows knit together as he turns his head toward you.

“You want us to believe you didn’t sleep with her?” you let out.

It’s bitter. And you seem to realize it quite at the same time as he does, because you flush red, and you look away from him to glance down at your half-empty plate on the table.

Jungkook’s features relax, and a smile even tugs at the corners of his lips. He knows what Jo is doing. Especially as he sees the knowing smirk on her lips.

She dared him to find a way to make you jealous earlier this week, when he invited her and Taehyung to the cottage. As if making you jealous is a good idea.

He now sees what she meant. Because you’re playing with your food, a look of confusion creased into your features. It’s cute, and it makes the same feeling arise in him.

Everyone starts talking again, but Jungkook feels the weight of Taehyung and Jin’s gazes on him. He avoids them like the plague, focusing on trying to keep his smile in. He doesn’t want to infuriate you by making a comment.

Especially not when you’ve been forced to team up for the beer pong tournament. Which, turns out you’re a lot better than he thought you would be. Than you said you were, because you make it to the final round, getting beaten by Bridget and Heather out of all people. The two girls celebrate to the sounds of everyone whooping and cheering, and Jungkook can’t keep his smile in.

Tonight promises to be quite the party. And it is. With lots of drinking, and Chaeyeon and Lance having to jump into the lake because they were last in the tournament. It’s funny, but it leads to them deciding to go to bed early, saying something about being cold from the lake.

Jungkook knows exactly what they have in mind when he sees them staring at each other the way that they are. Like they’re alone in the universe, and maybe to them they really are.

He’s surprised when the rest of the group starts to follow Chaeyeon and Lance. The night is younger than it was yesterday when it came to an end, but there’s something in the air. It brings the couples closer together, makes them exchange secretive glances and stolen touches. Jungkook finds Taehyung and Jo making out outside of the bathroom when he goes in to pee, and they never come out after that. Jin and Valeria move in not even five minutes later, right before Hobi and Jiho, and it leaves Bridget, Heather and you alone with him outside.

He’s not surprised when the two girls decide to go to sleep too, even though Jungkook has just started the hot tub at Bridget’s request. It leaves him alone with you and the red solo cup in his hand. It’s filled to the brim and, quite frankly, Jungkook doesn’t feel tired at all. He feels alive, awake and ready to conquer the world if need be.

You look exactly like that too.

“Wow,” you let out once everyone is gone.

Jungkook feels awkward for half a heartbeat. But then his eyes slide to the house, and he notices Jo in the window. She quickly dips out of his line of sight, which makes him understand exactly what happened.

You’ve been left alone outside on purpose, and Jo’s the one that schemed the whole thing.

“They’re boring,” Jungkook says, though he feels like laughing. He hopes you don’t notice.

“They didn’t even go into the hot tub,” you point out. “What a waste of energy.”

He glances at the tub, and an idea forms in the back of his mind. He doubts you’re going to say yes.

*****

You don’t know why you said yes. Going into a hot tub alone with Jungkook sounds like a very bad idea, and the more you think about it the worse it seems to you. Yet you make your way outside after having put on your black two-piece swimsuit, wrapped in a white towel you fished from the bathroom.

The house was eerily quiet when you and Jungkook went in to change. It is still just as quiet as you get out of the bathroom, and aim for the kitchen to make yourself a glass before you go outside. You notice Jungkook is already out there, testing the temperature of the water. He’s wearing trunks, and he got rid of his t-shirt, discarding it on a chair next to the slowly dying fire. He turns towards the window as you’re pouring a glass, probably to see if you’re coming. It’s not your fault when your eyes dip down to his leg.

Even in the darkness you see the angry knot of skin that runs from below his knee and disappears in his swim trunks. It’s ugly, and your heart stops beating for a few seconds as you see it. Jungkook was right when he told you about his accident the first time – the scar on his leg is far scarier than the one on his stomach.

You wave back at him as he waves, a dumb smile on his lips. You focus on that smile, because you don’t want to be thinking of the scar. Don’t want to be thinking about the pain Jungkook must have endured. The pain he is still enduring to this day.

You’re hesitant when you step outside, though you make sure to bring a glass for him too. He’s still smiling when you arrive, and it only widens when you hand him the red solo cup.

“Thought you might want a refill.”

He tilts his head to the side, winking at you as he grabs the glass. “Always.”

You move towards the tub, ignoring the way you feel his gaze on you. It makes you self-conscious, and you don’t want to peel the towel from around yourself. You reckon you can’t get in the water with it though, so you carefully put your glass down on the side of the tub before taking the towel off, leaving it on the same chair where Jungkook’s shirt is.

“It might be a little hot,” Jungkook warns as you move back to the tub. “I adjusted the temperature a little while I was waiting for you.”

You dip your fingers in the water, shrugging your shoulders. “Seems good enough to me.”

He laughs, and his eyes follow you as you climb into the tub. The water is hot, extremely so, but you’re drunk and the jet of the tub looks far too inviting for you to wait.

“Alright then, guess I’ll get in too.”

You watch as he does so, and your eyes once again fall to his scar. It stretches weirdly as he bends his leg, as if it doesn’t really allow him full movements anymore. It explains why his dancing has turned mechanical now, and why he can’t move the way that he did before.

He’s noticed your gaze on the scar while getting in. You know it, because his features have fallen serious by the time he sits in front of you.

“I know, it’s ugly,” he says, and his eyes get lost in the bubbles in the water.

You remain silent for a time, waiting for his gaze to meet yours. When it does, you finally say, “Nothing about you is ugly”.

It’s smooth, the way you say it. It makes his eyes widen and a laugh bursts from his lips. You don’t even know why you flirted with him – you just had an inkling it’d make him fall back into his usual cocky self.

And of course it does.

“You think I’m hot?”

You roll your eyes, before grabbing your red solo cup from where you left it. Jungkook grabs his own, and it takes a few seconds before you’re settled back into your seat. You take a small sip from the glass, letting the rum and coke swirl in your mouth for a second before you swallow.

“I’m not going to answer that question.”

He smirks. “Then I’ve got my answer.”

You squint your eyes, fake glaring at him, and it only makes him laugh.

“You’re insufferable.”

He shrugs his shoulders, and he takes a sip from his glass. He winces then, before raising his eyebrows. “How strong did you make this?”

“Strong enough to have you shut up?”

“Oh please.” He laughs once more. “You know that won’t make me shut up. As a matter of fact, it’s probably just going to make me talk more.”

You chuckle, shaking your head a little. “My mistake.”

Jungkook really is hot, sitting there. His hair is fluffy around his face – it really is a lot longer than it was before. It curls a little at the ends, making a crown around his head. He’s buff too, and it makes you wonder how he manages to work out at the gym even with his injury. And it’s hard not to let your gaze wander to the tattoos on his shoulders, the ink that goes from his hand up to the top of his arm.

He’s attractive, damn him. You hate it, so you say, “So, Laura uh?”

He holds your gaze, his tongue darting out to play with his piercing for a time. “What about her?”

You cock an eyebrow. “You tell me.”

He’s smirking now, and his eyes dip to where your chest disappears in the water before moving up to your features again. “Why do you want to know?”

You feel hot. Not because of the water, though you reckon it really is hot. No, his gaze is burning you, in a way that makes you feel naked. You don’t know if you like it. But two can play this game Jungkook seems to have chosen.

You shrug your shoulders, wetting your lips before smiling. “Just making conversation, Jeon.”

His gaze has moved to your lips. It stays there as he says, “Seems to me like you got a little jealous earlier”.

You refuse to admit that it was jealousy, when Jo mentioned Laura at dinner time. To you, it was just surprise, and you’ve been repeating it to yourself ever since it happened.

“Why would I be jealous?” you ask, brows knitting together as a smile plays on your lips. “You’re nothing to me.”

“Right.” He chuckles, and he drinks from his cup, his gaze burning into yours. “I’m nothing and yet you’re in this hot tub alone with me.”

He’s arrogantly cocky, isn't he? It used to piss you off, but tonight it just makes your blood boil.

“Wasn’t going to waste the opportunity for a hot tub session,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Unfortunate that it had to come with you though.”

He fakes offence. “You offend me.”

You snort, and his features relax into a small smile. There’s a moment of silence, where you find yourself too much of a coward to keep holding his gaze. It’s your turn to let your gaze wander down to the spot where his chest disappears in the water, and you drink from your cup.

“Do you want to play Truth or Dare?” he suggests after almost a minute without any of you speaking.

You chuckle. “Are we twelve?”

He shrugs. “Just thought it could be fun.” He pouts a little, and it really does make him look like he’s twelve. “Unless you’re too much of a coward for it.”

“Me, a coward?” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “Truth or Dare, Jeon?”

The cocky smirk reappears. “Truth.”

You don’t know what to ask. At all. Your mind goes empty, until he lets out a laugh that gives you an idea. “What’s the deal with Laura?”

“You really want to know, uh?”

You shrug. “You chose truth, now answer the question.”

He laughs a little, and then plays with his piercing for a few seconds. You watch him do so, eyes falling to his lips.

“We hung out once”, he says.

It’s the same answer as earlier, but you feel like a brat right now. So, you press him by saying, “And that’s it? You’re not going to see her again?”

He ponders for a time, making you wait before he replies, “We’re supposed to go on a date sometime next week”.

You feel like maybe you shouldn’t have asked the question. Because his reply makes you clench your jaw, and you take a sip from your cup to hide it. “Jeon Jungkook on a date? Are you having a fever?”

“She’s nice, just thought I’d give it a try,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He’s still smirking, and this time it’s knowing.

He knows that the thought of him going on a date with Laura is pissing you off. And you don’t even know why it makes you feel like that. You’re not sure you should be feeling like that when it comes to Jeon Jungkook. He’s barely even a friend.

“Hope it goes well for you,” you say, though it sounds tense.

He shrugs, winking at you. “I’ll let you know.” He pauses for a moment, before asking, “Truth or Dare?”

So the conversation about Laura is over then. And he’s a fool if he thinks you’ll say truth.

“Dare.”

He looks far too happy about your choice. “Chug your glass.”

You frown. “But then I won’t have anything to drink if I don’t want to do some of your dares.”

“Oh, we’re playing adult Truth or Dare? Had I known I wouldn’t have answered your question.” You glare at him, and he laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Just drink, you can always drink from my glass later.”

Your glare intensifies, if that’s possible, but you still give in. You’re not one to back away from a challenge, and you chug your glass in a few long swigs. Your nose scrunches up as you finish, and you put the cup down.

“Happy?” you let out, and he nods with that same insufferable smirk on his lips. You want to wipe it away, but you don’t really know how. Instead, you only ask him, “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

You hate dares. You never know what to suggest. You don’t feel like making him chug his glass, so you cock your head to the side as you survey him, mind reeling for an idea.

“Go get me another glass.”

He’s surprised. So are you, but you think it’s a brilliant idea.

“It’s so far,” he complains, with that same childish pout he used a moment ago. “Can I change for Truth?”

“You’re annoying”, you say, though you don’t really mind.

Something in the way he’s been looking at you makes you want him to stay anyway.

“You’re the one that wants me to go all the way inside.”

You chuckle, before shaking your head. “Alright then, let me find you a truth.” It takes you about half a minute before you come up with an idea. “How many girls have you slept with?”

He snorts. “Wow, straight to the body count I see.” He falls silent again, and his hand plays with the bubbles in the water in front of him.

“So?”

You think he’s blushing. It’s hard to tell in the dim light – indeed, the only light illuminating the scene is the one from next to the door, and the tub’s purple light.

“I’d say…” he trails off, scrunching his nose as he thinks. “Like twenty-five?”

It’s a lot, but not as much as you expected. Jungkook has a fuckboy vibe to him, and you were pretty sure he had at least fifty.

“Only?”

He furrows his brows. “Only?”

“I thought you had more,” you admit, chuckling as you shrug your shoulders.

He sips from his cup. “Sorry to disappoint.” His eyes glint with mischief, and he adds, “Truth or Dare?”

You hesitate, maybe because something in the way his eyes sparkle makes you think he’s got something in mind. You feel it – anticipation is building in you, and some parts of you can already see the outcome before it unfolds. Like a web of possibilities, and the longer he looks at you like that, the more it closes in to the anticipated one.

“Truth.”

He’s silent for a time. His face falls more serious, darker, and he’s so hot sitting there you really have to look away. “If everyone was single here, who would you fuck?”

You refuse to admit his question makes a drop of pure magma roll down your spine, before it moves forward and settles in your core.

“Jiho.” It’s a lie. You both know it, but he lets it slide – for now. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

You hit him with the same question he’s just asked you. His reply is far more cryptic.

“You already know the answer.”

You breathe in shakily, and something tightens inside of you. “Do I?”

His mouth is a little parted, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he takes a sip from the cup. He seems to reconsider it, because he chugs the whole thing before putting it down on the side of the tub.

“Do you?”

It confirms the answer. And you don’t know what to make of it. It scares you, somehow, but makes the fire in your burn brighter.

“Truth or dare?” he asks then, and a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Dare.”

You don’t even hesitate. You’re afraid he’s going to ask you stuff you don’t know the answer to if you choose truth.

“Why don’t you come sit closer, mmh?”

Still no hesitation from you. You’re like the moth and he the flame – you know it’s a bad idea, but you haven’t looked away from his eyes in too long. You’re in a trance, and you think so is he.

You settle next to him. Far enough not to touch, but close enough for every inch between you to fill with electricity. Not that it wasn’t already before – you are just way more conscious of it now.

“Truth or dare?” you ask, and it’s a little breathless, the way you speak.

“Dare,” he says. His eyes are on your lips now, and all you can do for a time is to observe his features. He’s got a mole under his mouth, and a scar on one of his cheeks. It looks old, and it’s so faded you can barely see it.

You have no dare in mind. You feel like you don’t even have any thoughts. You’re stuck looking at his lips, where your gaze settles as you watch his features. “Uh?” you let out.

He chuckles. It’s deep, manly, and it makes you look up to his eyes. “No idea what to ask?”

“You already chugged your glass.”

“There’s nothing else you want me to do?”

There’s a whole lot you want him to do, but a whole lot you don’t want him to do. It’s confusing, and your heart is beating too loud for you to think straight.

“Is there something you want to do?” you ask.

He’s bold. His hand moves up, his fingers lightly touching the side of your neck. “I could kiss your neck.” They trail down until they find a home on your shoulders. “Or I could massage your shoulders, you seem a little tense.”

You are. You are because there is a war of conflicting emotions in you, and you don’t know which side will win. “Massage my shoulders then.”

He laughs, before making you turn. It’s easier to breathe once he’s not in your line of sight anymore, though the moment his hands start working on your shoulders, you tense up again. “Relax,” he murmurs, adding your name at the end.

“You’re making me anxious,” you admit breathlessly.

He stays silent as he works on your shoulders, for so long you think he won’t talk. But then he says, “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

His hands are big, and his fingers are skilled. In a matter of a few minutes he’s undid every knot in your shoulders, and you find yourself able to breathe. You still don’t want to risk looking at him though.

“Truth or dare?” he asks.

Maybe you can be bold too. Maybe you can just focus on every spot where his fingers are digging in your skin. Maybe it doesn’t have to mean anything.

“Dare.”

“Give me a hickey.”

You snort, mostly because it takes you by surprise. “What?”

His hands fall from your shoulders. “You heard me well.”

“Aren’t hickeys bad for you?” you say, though you’ve never really cared about that. You care about it even less when you hear him move in the water.

“I think everything about you is bad for my sanity right now.” He whispers the words directly into your ear, and goosebumps form on your arms.

“Please don’t think this is going to lead anywhere,” you whisper back, right as you tilt your head to the side. You feel the ghost of his lips on your skin, but he straightens before he’s really done anything.

“Then why are you afraid of giving me a hickey?”

It is a challenge, and you don’t back down from challenges. So you turn around, say fuck it, and lean towards his neck until your mouth finds the spot where it connects with his shoulder. You suck, hard, and he hisses as one of his hands moves to your back, as if he wants to pull you closer.

You run your tongue on the spot you’ve sucked, before straightening. He’s got a deep purple mark there now, and you smirk in satisfaction. “Happy now?”

His chest is moving up and down quickly as he breathes. He’s out of breath, and the insufferable smirk is gone now. He seems a little angry, with a crease between his brows. “Yeah.”

You’re about to succumb to insanity. It’s taking a hold of you, choking you up until you say, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he answers.

He seems just as conflicted as you. But the web of possibilities from earlier dwindled down until there’s only one left, and both of you know it.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Your heart beats once, and then it stops in your chest. Because you meet him halfway, crashing your mouth on his so hard you think you taste blood. You don’t care: insane people do not care about anything. All you want is to feel his lips against yours, and damn him he’s a good kisser.

It’s intense, languid, and his hands don’t take their time before he’s pulling you on his lap. You straddle him, your own hands finding purchase on his shoulders, before moving up until you’ve cupped his face. And you hold him in place as you kiss, never once breaking away for air.

You don’t need oxygen when you’re kissing Jeon Jungkook. All you need are his lips, and he gives you plenty of that. And when his tongue finds yours, you moan in his mouth.

He swallows it like a man starved.

His hands are on your back. Respectfully so, even as he’s devouring your mouth. It frustrates you, because you want more. You want to feel all of him. It makes you grab a handful of his hair, and you pull his head back.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“I’m not going to fuck you in a hot tub.”

It’s the only intelligent thing you could think of.

“We can –“

Your lips are back on his before he finishes his sentence, and you suck on his bottom lip, tongue darting out to play with his piercing. This time, he grunts in your mouth, and his hands lose their fight against his will not to touch you more. They move down until he’s cupped your ass, and he makes you grind on him.

You moan, and he breaks away from the kiss, just so he can bend down and leave a trail of hot, wet kisses on the column of your throat. You just let your hands loose in his hair and on his shoulders, nails digging in his skin when he decides to suck a hickey on you too.

You grind again then, and you feel the bulge of him press against you.

“We can’t fuck in the tub,” you say, and your voice is unrecognizable even to yourself. It’s lustful, sinfully so, and you’d be embarrassed if he didn’t meet your gaze with his half-lidded eyes.

“We can go in the shower.”

You’ve never been a fan of shower sex, so you say, “As much as that would probably be a good idea, I won’t fuck you in a shower either.”

He’s confused. You can tell by the way he tilts his head to the side. “Where do you want me to fuck you then? In the middle of the living room?”

It makes you chuckle, and an unexpected smile appears on his lips.

“I don’t think we should fuck.”

His grip on your ass tightens as his features turn dark, and he makes you grind on him again. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, embarrassingly so, as you let out a breathy moan. “Right,” he says.

“Fuck,” you curse.

He leans forward again, and this time his lips find a spot right over the top of your bikini. He sucks on your skin, and you moan as you grind again.

It’s uncomfortable. Not his lips on you, no, but the water of the tub mixed with the fabric of your swimwear. If you didn’t know how unsanitary it is, you would let him fuck you right then and there. But you don’t want to get an infection.

“Let’s go inside.” This time, one of his hands moves from your ass, trailing up your side until he’s grabbed one of your boobs. “Please.”

“Anything for you,” he mumbles against your breast, before straightening.

You kiss him again, just for good measure, and then you push away from him, reluctantly so. You feel his heavy gaze on you as you get out of the tub, and you’ve wrapped yourself in your towel by the time he’s followed you.

You forgot how tall he is. Because as he steps closer to you, towering above you, your mind goes blank again and you just let him crash his lips against yours. He’s holding your face, and his thumbs brush your skin gently before he pulls away. He stays close enough for you to feel his warm breath on you, but far enough so that you can’t reach his lips anymore.

“I need to take a shower,” you murmur.

He nods, and you feel it more than you see it. “Me too.”

“Yeah.”

He chuckles lightly, and he straightens to look up at the sky. His hands are still delicately holding your cheeks, and you watch his sharp jawline for a few seconds before he speaks.

“The stars are beautiful.”

You’re not looking at the night sky when you reply, “Yeah”.

He lets you go, then, but his hand falls until he’s grabbed one of yours. His large hand wraps around yours, and you let him do it, heart settling to a calmer beat in your chest.

“Do you want to dance?” he asks.

You stiffen. It feels strange to have him ask that. You almost forgot that he is a dancer too, in his soul, even though his physical body doesn’t permit him to let loose anymore.

“You want to dance?”

He has a soft smile on his lips when he meets your gaze. It’s miles away from the intensity it held just a moment ago, and you can’t help but offer him a smile of your own.

“Yes.”

You don’t want to refuse. Not when it feels like this moment matters. As if you’re about to create a core memory, and maybe you are.

Maybe you are.

The night sky is filled with stars. Distant burning constellations, and they wink at the two of you as Jungkook leads you through a slow dance. His steps are sure tonight, albeit a little mechanical, and his hand on the small of your back feels like a weight anchoring you into the present.

Up above, the stars just shine on and on, endlessly, for eternity. And you feel like eternity. You feel small and big, unimportant yet cataclysmic. He is cataclysmic. He is the start and the end, like the story is weaved into the tapestry of the universe itself.

And maybe it is.

“Thank you,” he murmurs after you’ve moved in time with him for a little eternity – your little eternity.

His voice is heavy. It holds the weight of the universe, and you reach up to cup his cheek, to anchor him in this moment with you.

“I’m happy to be here with you.”

His eyes are shining. Like the stars above, and the ones you’re starting to see behind his pupils. He hasn’t looked away from you since you started dancing, and you from him. You don’t think you can.

“I forgot how it felt to dance,” he admits.

Though he has danced since the accident. You’ve seen him dance, but maybe his heart wasn’t into it. Maybe his heart is in the moment now, maybe it’s beating in sync with all of your steps.

“How does it feel?” you ask, smiling up at him.

“Liberating. Like I’m just one of the stars in the sky up above.”

You don’t know what that feels like. It makes you realize you’ve never truly felt free. Jeon Jungkook looks at peace now, and you can just hope you’ll get to feel like that one day too.

A cool breeze rises around you, and you shiver as it moves on your skin. Jungkook notices, and he dips his head to kiss you again. Softly, gently, and when he pulls away he says, “Let’s go inside, you’re cold”.

You nod your head, even though you never want the moment to end. But nothing lasts in life – not even the stars above. One day they’ll die too, until all that’s left of them is an empty husk of life.

To you, that’s what love has always been like. It hits and leaves nothing of it behind. Maybe that’s why you step away from Jungkook.

“Yes.”

*****

The shower you take is short. Scalding hot, until your skin has turned bright red. Only then are you satisfied, and you step out to dry yourself with a towel. You’re gentle with the towel, and you can still feel Jungkook’s hands on you. Can still feel the weight of his eyes on you.

If you could, you’d leave the cottage now. You’d run while you still can, but you can’t.

You can’t, so you step out of the bathroom and make your way to the living room where you both slept the night before. Where he snored softly until the noises he made were entwined with your dreams.

He’s already sitting on his couch when you arrive. His hair is wet from the shower he took in the downstairs bathroom, right next to the room where Chaeyeon and Lance are sleeping. He’s wearing black joggers and an oversized dark grey t-shirt, and he looks inherently comfortable. As if he’s comfort personified. He pushes his hair back as you come into view, offering you another one of his soft smiles.

You didn’t know Jungkook has softness in him. You feel it now: it’s in the way he looks at you, in the curve of his lips and the openness of his gaze.

“I have an idea,” he says, a little cryptically, and his smile turns mischievous. Childish, playful, and you chuckle.

“What is it?”

“I noticed your couch is tiny,” he says, motioning to said couch. “I thought…” He flushes red, before chuckling.

A blushing Jungkook is not a thing you imagined you would ever see someday.

“You thought?” you press on.

“I thought we could put all the cushions on the ground to make like a bed?”

It feels like you shouldn’t. Like you’re not supposed to be sleeping in the same bed as Jeon Jungkook. Especially not after what just happened outside – both the tub and the dance.

“Sure,” you agree nonetheless. “As long as you don’t steal all the blankets.”

He grins. “I would never.”

It’s cute, and it makes you gaze away.

Jungkook makes quick work of creating a bed for the two of you. You help him to move a coffee table away, and soon enough all the couch cushions form a mattress on the ground. You place the pillows you used last night on one end of it, and you’re sitting down just to test the makeshift bed when Jungkook throws the blankets on top of you.

“Jungkook!” you yelp, though you try to keep it to a minimum level so you won’t wake anyone.

He just laughs, and a few seconds later the room falls into darkness. While you’re disentangling yourself from the blankets, you hear a thump, and Jungkook lets out a series of curses that makes you burst out laughing, probably way too loud.

You don’t care.

“Fuck,” he finishes, and you can barely distinguish his silhouette when you’re free of the blankets.

“What happened?”

“I stubbed my toe,” he hisses through his teeth. “Fuck.”

You just laugh again, before moving until you’re on the side you chose for sleeping. “Just come here.”

“I was trying to,” he grumbles, and it sounds like he is pouting.

You’re starting to know him well enough that you know he is pouting.

Once you’re settled on your side of the bed, lying on your back staring up at the ceiling, Jungkook finally moves towards you. He lies on his side of the cushions, pulling a blanket over him. You both have your own blankets, so sleeping right next to each other doesn’t feel too indecent.

It takes your brain only three seconds before it produces an image of the hot tub, and you’re pretty sure the same thing just happened to Jungkook, because he chuckles lowly.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing.”

You frown in the darkness. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Mmh.”

You turn until you’re facing him. His silhouette is dark against the lighter background behind him, but you can barely make out his form next to you. You see it when he moves though, as he turns to face you too.

“What are you humming about?”

He chuckles. “Do you like cuddling?”

“You’re not going to get me to cuddle you,” you immediately reply, and you sound just as flustered as you feel.

“You grind on me in the hot tub and then you don’t even want to cuddle me? Outrageous.”

You scoff, and if you weren’t in the dark he’d see your cheeks turning scarlet. “We both know where cuddling would lead.”

His voice is husky when he speaks. “You think you can’t resist me?”

It makes the ‘never back down from a challenge’ part of you tickle until you find yourself replying, “I’ll be the big spoon”.

He snorts, but he turns until he’s facing away from you. You hesitate for a time, but you eventually move closer to him, until you’ve wrapped an arm around his stomach. You rest your forehead against his back, and you hope he can’t hear the loud beats of your heart.

His body is warm. Comfortably so, and you know you could drift to sleep easily just lying next to him like this.

Why then are you unable to fully close your eyes? Why then do you decide to move closer, until his ass is pressed against you? It makes you gulp, and some wild and foolish part of you wishes you could be under his skin.

You don’t think you could ever be close enough to him to satiate the hunger that’s forming in your core.

Jungkook moves his arm, and a second later he’s wrapping his hand around yours. You let him do it, and you’re surprised when he brings your hand up to press a light kiss on your knuckles.

You wish you were still drunk. Because then you could blame your next words on the alcohol.

“Actually, can you be the big spoon?”

He sounds like he’s smirking when he says, “Yeah, of course”.

A few seconds later the positions are reversed, and Jungkook molds his body to yours, wrapping his tattooed arm around your frame, putting his other one under your head. It fits too well, like it was meant to be, and maybe this moment really was always meant to be.

Maybe you were bound to hate him until you found yourself cuddled up to him in the dead of night at a cottage on the countryside.

“Your hair smells good,” Jungkook says, and he shifts impossibly closer. You feel his lips on your head as he inhales, and the arm around your waist tightens as he pulls you flush against him.

“Thank you,” you answer, breathlessly. Because you are breathless in his arms, you are breathless feeling all of his firm body against all of yours.

Breathless enough so that you shift, and your ass moves against him.

“Uh,” Jungkook lets out. He laughs a little, and his tattooed hand moves up until he’s brushing his thumb on the side of your jaw. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you want me to do?”

He thinks for a time. “What I want you to do and what you want seem to be two completely different things.”

It’s a little somber, the way he says it, and you bite your lip. Because he’s right, sort of. You’re not sure you want to have sex with him. But what started in the hot tub is bound to finish someday, is it not?

“You’re confusing me,” you admit. “You’ve been confusing me all weekend.”

His hand leaves your jaw, and he moves your hair out of the way as he leans. His lips press a tentative kiss on your neck, and your ass immediately shifts against him again.

“So have you,” he declares. “You’ve been confusing me for weeks.”

His revelation only makes you want him even more. And you’ve rarely wanted someone the way your body has been craving for Jungkook. Because that’s what it is: your body has been craving for him since the hot tub. And you’re about to succumb to your desires, aren’t you?

“Jungkook…”

He sucks on your skin, but not hard enough to leave a hickey. It still makes heat pool at your core, and you push your ass back against his dick once more.

“Fuck,” he curses. “We should go to sleep.”

Though this time he grinds against you, and you can feel the start of his erection on your ass.

“Right,” you agree.

And you move against him, earning a grunt from him. He murmurs your name, before saying, “I don’t have any condoms”.

All your nerves set on fire. “I don’t care.”

“We shouldn’t…” His sentence is cut short as you grind again, and he sinks his teeth in the soft skin of your neck. It hurts a little, and you know he’s going to leave another hickey on you as soon as he starts sucking.

Your hand shoots behind you, and you grab the back of his head, fingers getting lost in the strands of his hair. His own hand moves down until it settles on your hip, and he guides your movement against him.

He moves away from your neck, pressing a kiss on your shoulder this time. “We shouldn’t have sex,” he says, completing his previous sentence.

“I know.”

“We’re going to have sex,” he adds.

“I know.”

You circle your hips, and his erection is turning hard by the second. You’re soaking your panties, and you just want more of him. You want to get rid of all the fabric between you two and feel his skin directly against yours.

“Oh, Y/n…” he breathes, and then he’s back to kissing your neck.

No sucking this time, just his tongue drawing circles on your skin as you continue moving your ass against his dick.

“You’re already hard.”

“The hot tub got me real horny.”

It had the same effect on you, and you shiver as he bites at your ear. Gently, not to hurt, especially not as he presses a kiss under your ear next.

“Fuck,” you say.

His breathing is warm against the side of your face, and you decide to dive in. To say fuck it with what you should do and what you want to do. You only have one life to live anyway.

The moment your lips touch feels like a dam broke inside of you. Your tongue meets him halfway between your mouths, and he swallows the moan you let out as his fingers move under your shirt. You’re not wearing a bra, and the moan turns to a hiss as he pinches one of your nipples, rolling the sensitive bud between his thumb and index.

He pulls away from the kiss to say, “Can I take off your shorts?”

Because you’re wearing baby blue PJ shorts. Nothing really attractive, but it has no hindering effect on Jungkook’s desire for you, has it?

“Yes,” you answer and he’s back to kissing you in no time.

His fingers do quick work of the knot holding your shorts in place, and he immediately slides his hand in. He slides it under your panties too, and he starts rubbing circles on your clit right away.

You’re going to go insane. He’s worth going insane for.

You grind on his hand, and he moves lower so he can dip his middle finger and ring finger inside of you, up to the first knuckle, before pulling out and rubbing circles on your clit again. Your slick juice renders you oversensitive, and you buck your hips as he starts a hellish rhythm down there, with just the right pressure.

It’s like he knows his way around your body already.

You try to reach between you, but the way his arm is positioned keeps you from being able to palm him. You whine and it makes him stop his ministrations on your clit.

“Is something wrong?”

“Take off your pants,” you tell him.

“Please?” he taunts you, as if he wants to let you know who’s in control here.

“Please,” you hiss through your teeth, because somehow it infuriates you.

“Good girl,” he praises with his low husky voice.

You’ve never been called a good girl before, and something in the way he says it makes you grind hard against him.

“You like that, uh?” he asks.

“Just take off the fucking pants, Jeon.”

He chuckles but obeys nonetheless. You take off your shorts at the same time, and think about it for half a second before you’re taking your panties off too.

Once you’re both naked from the waist down, you return to the previous cuddling position. Only this time his dick is resting against your ass, and from what you can tell, it really is big.

“Should I finger you to make sure you can take me?” he asks, but it’s rhetorical.

Indeed, he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he plunges two fingers inside of you, arching them to hit a spot inside of you that makes you see stars, shy constellations that add light to the darkness of the cottage. You find purchase on his forearm as he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of you, and he reaches deep inside of you. His palm hits your clit every time he pushes all the way in, and you’re starting to see a whole damn galaxy of stars in no time.

But you want to feel him, want to jerk him off while he’s making you feel good too. So you reach behind you, and this time you’re successful. You’re able to wrap your hand around his cock, and you moan at the feeling of the large girth.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

You moan, nodding your head. “It’s all for you.”

“Oh, I fucking know it is,” he says.

It’s cocky, but you’re too far gone to give him shit for it.

You start jerking him off, slowly because you can’t really move quicker in this position. He stills bucks his hips, fucking your hand, and he starts moving his fingers even faster, hitting your clit even harder.

“Fuck, please play with my clit,” you beg.

“Can’t say no when you ask so nicely,” he says, and he’s back to rubbing circles on your clit.

You clench around nothing as you jerk him off, before you decide to position his dick between your legs. You grind against him, or maybe he makes you grind. You don’t really know. All you can feel is the way his length moves against you. But he never aligns with your entrance, as if he just wants to tease you, and knowing him you’re pretty sure he does.

It stays like this for a while, with him just coating his dick with your slick juice as he keeps rubbing insistent circles on your clit. Your walls clench around nothing, and you whine as he just moves his hips back and forth.

“Fuck me, Jungkook,” you say.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.

You just whine again.

“I want to hear you say it.”

He’s infinitely infuriating, isn’t he?

“Yes, I fucking want your dick inside of me.”

This time, when he pulls his hips away from you, he makes sure to align with your entrance before pushing forward. And he pushes forward hard, sheathing all of his dick inside of you. Or all of what fits inside of you, because you’re pretty sure he’s way too big to be able to entirely fit.

The moment he hits the back of your pussy you let out a moan. It’s loud, and you immediately put a hand on your mouth to muffle the next noises you’ll make. You think better of it after a few seconds, and you grab the blanket, rolling it in a messy bundle just so you can press it against your face.

“You feel so fucking tight,” he says, and then he grunts when your walls clench around him. “Just relax, baby.”

“I’m just so close,” you admit.

You don’t know when he stopped rubbing circles on your clit. Only know that he starts again now, and you feel the familiar knot of an orgasm starting to form deep in your core.

“Such a fucking good girl”, he praises. “You’re going to come all over my dick.”

You immediately hide your face in the blanket as you moan, unashamedly loud. And then he starts fucking into you, slow and hard, and you lose it. You lose it as the knot uncoils, snaps inside of you, turning every inch of your body into an oversensitive land of pleasure.

Jungkook fucks you through your high, steadily, never once faltering even as your walls pulse hard against him. His fingers keep on rubbing circles on your clit, and he kisses a spot on your neck that makes goosebumps erupt on all of you. It feels so good you could cry, but your high still just keeps on going. Even though you’re in the dark, your vision is white, blindly so.

You don’t know when your hand found its way to the side of his face, only that once you finally come down you have a handful of his hair in your grip.

“That didn’t take long,” Jungkook teases, whispering the words directly into your ear.

He’s not wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever come as hard and quick as you just did.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter.

He has stilled inside of you, and his lips are littering small kisses on your neck. So you feel his smirk against you, and it makes you move. Circling your hips, trying to give him something in return for the orgasm he’s gifted you.

“You’re going to let me come inside of you, mmh?” he asks as you keep on going, a little sloppily from the remnants of your orgasm.

“You think you can come for me?” You’re embarrassingly breathless, still panting because of your high. You take a deep breath as you prop yourself up on an elbow, just so it’s easier to fuck yourself on him.

Jungkooks hums. “I need a little more than that, baby.”

You bite your lips as his tattooed hand finds your breast under your shirt again. “What do you want me to do?”

“Ride me?” he suggests, right as he plants a soft peck on your shoulder.

You moan as he fucks into you hard, unexpectedly. “Anyone could see.”

He whines, but then his hand moves to your hip before he starts pounding into you again. You hide your face in the blanket again, trying to muffle your sounds. Jungkook is not faring a lot better than you, and his grunts send shivers all over you. He doesn’t talk again until he’s slowed down.

“They can already see us.”

He’s not wrong, and you hate it. But you doubt someone will get up at this hour of the night, closer to the morning than to yesterday. He pushes in once more, hard and rough.

“Fuck,” he curses, and he entirely stops moving.

He even pulls out, and you turn to look at him. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark a little now, and you can see his features enough to see him wincing in pain.

“Is something wrong?” you immediately ask.

“My leg hurts.”

His three words fall softly in the night, the way a feather falls. It shifts the atmosphere, making your heart ache in your chest.

“Oh, Jungkook…”

“Ride me,” he says, and it sounds begging.

As if he needs it to forget the pain. You don’t think you have it in you to refuse, so you straddle him. Before you sink on his dick, you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, hoping to chase the pain away. Your hands hold you up on his shoulders, and his move to your hips, before sliding down until he’s holding your ass in his large palms. He massages the muscles of your ass as you kiss, tongues meeting in a deep and languid dance.

When you’re out of breath, lungs burning for oxygen, you straighten and sit on his dick. You circle your hips, teasing him a little and also making sure that he’s still hard. He is, his dick a rod of steel, and you bite at your lower lip as you grab him with one hand to align him with your entrance. He’s looking through half-lidded eyes as you do so, and his eyes shut as you sink all the way down on him, until his dick reaches your cervix.

His mouth falls open and he moans softly. It’s a pretty sound, meant for your ears only, and it makes you feel powerful. You feel powerful as you move up and down, slowly, feeling every vein of his dick on your walls. You clench as you sink back down, and his hands on your ass tighten their hold for a few seconds before he moves to your hips to guide you.

He makes you go faster, and as if he can’t resist he’s soon fucking up into you.

You put a hand on his cheek, brushing his cheekbone with a thumb. His eyes flutter open and he stills, seeing the look on your face.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I can do the work, don’t hurt your leg,” you tell him. You grab his hands from your hips to move them to your breasts under your shirt. And then you start moving, for real this time, quick and hard. You add a little bit of circling of your hips, just to make sure he stretches you wide.

And he does. Jungkook is huge, and you don’t wonder why he’s so cocky anymore. He’s got the kind of dick to be cocky about.

“Alright then,” Jungkook lets out between two soft moans.

You smirk, but it dies when one of his hands moves from your breast to your neck through the collar of your shirt. You grab his forearm, and your eyes flutter shut as he digs his fingers in your arteries, cutting the blood supply to your brain. It feels good, far more than it should, as all you can feel is his dick in you.

You let out a breathy sound, walls clenching on him again.

“That’s it, baby, you’re so good,” he praises, and he sounds different than he did before.

He’s more out of breath, as if he’s exhausted. And maybe he is, as he’s nearing his orgasm. It only encourages you more, and your nails dig in his forearm, hard enough to mark him.

“Fuck,” he curses, and he releases his hold on your neck. His hand doesn’t move, but it’s now just resting on your throat, and he’s not squeezing anymore.

“Fill me up, JK,” you say. “I want to feel you come inside of me.”

“Let me fuck you a little,” he replies. And he pulls you down by the neck, until he’s satisfied with the angle.

You want to say something about his leg but he’s already pounding into you, so hard your face falls in the crook of his neck as your hands get lost in his hair. Your lips meet his skin, and you suck hard, fully intending to leave a mark there. At this point you’re pretty convinced someone’s ought to know you’re fucking anyway, so why not show that he’s yours?

The thought sobers you up. But Jungkook is already coming, so you hold on strong sucking another spot on his neck as he groans and releases ropes and ropes of his cum inside of you. And he comes a lot, painting your insides white. You like it far more than you should.

Another thought to sober you up.

It takes Jungkook a little longer before he finally stops moving, and he lets out a content sigh as he wraps his arms around your waist to hold you close.

“We should have done this before,” he murmurs.

You try to sit up, but he keeps you from moving. “We shouldn’t have done this.” Even as you’re saying that you press another kiss to his neck. A soft one, just because he tastes too good, and you know the moment is about to come to an end.

“Uh?” he lets out.

His dick is still deep inside of you when you say, “We shouldn’t have fucked”.

He pushes you away now. Not hard, but it’s like your touch burns him and he needs to be away from you.

“Why?”

You sit next to him, and your cheeks burn as you feel his seed spill out of you, only to stain the blanket you previously used to muffle your moans.

“We’re barely even friends,” you point out.

He’s not watching you. His eyes are fixed on an empty spot on the cushionless couch next to which you’re laying. “Okay?”

“It’s just weird, no?”

You reckon you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t know why you decided to say it right now either. It’s as if the words just need to get out.

“It’s just sex,” he says, and it sounds a little angry. “People have sex all the time.”

“But not us. You know, I don’t like you like that.”

A big fat lie if you’ve ever said one. You did like having sex with him. You’re just panicking, your fight or flight instinct having been suddenly triggered.

“Chill, Y/n,” he mutters, and he sighs heavily. “We just fucked. We can pretend nothing happened, if that’s what you want.”

You don’t know what you want. Some part of you wants to take the evening back, but at the same time not. You’re confusing to yourself, and your teeth dig in the tip of your tongue for a moment as you think.

“What would you want to say this is?” you ask after a little too long for the silence to be comfortable.

He finally looks at you. “Nothing, honestly. We just got horny and we’re the only single people here, it was bound to happen.”

Now, his words hurt a little, but you can see the truth behind them. “Right,” you say. “So, just friends?”

He holds your gaze. It’s too dark for you to be able to interpret anything on his features. “Sure.”

You feel bad. Remorseful. And you think about the hot tub, and the fucking too, but also about the dance outside. You reckon your fight or flight was triggered then, you’ve just been ignoring it ever since you came in.

Ever since you got out of the bathroom to see Jungkook and his softness. The softness is gone now, and he looks away from you before sitting up too. He searches around for his pants, and puts them on as you scan the scene for your own clothes.

“Can you…” you start, but he’s already throwing your shorts and panties at you.

He’s pissed. It’s evident now, clear as spring water, and you feel even worse. You didn’t want to upset him. There’s just too much history between you, too much individual history on your part too.

You’ve never been in a relationship. You’ve never been able to even imagine being in a relationship. And it usually leads to scenes like this: the men you sleep with getting upset with you. You don’t blame them, can’t blame them.

But it feels different with Jungkook. Worse, as if you don’t want the outcome to be him being upset with you. You just don’t know anything else, and so you put your clothes on. Even as he gets up to go clean up in the bathroom, muttering that he’ll be right back.

Even as he comes back and settles on the makeshift bed again, his back turned to you. The message is clear then: he doesn’t want to talk to you. You reckon you can always talk to him tomorrow. Can always let the night pass, and with it the fight or flight. It’s not like he’s going to be gone tomorrow, and you won’t be either.

You get up, sighing heavily as you go to the bathroom to clean up too.

Jungkook is dead silent when you come back. If he was asleep, you know he would be snoring softly, as last night showed you. But no, he’s dead silent, as if he’s just ruminating in his corner.

It makes you feel too bad to remain silent.

“Jungkook,” you let out softly, his name barely over a whisper.

“Mmh?” he hums.

“I’m sorry if I upset you.”

He sighs, long and deep, before turning on his back. “Don’t worry about it.”

He’s stupid if he thinks telling you so will make it so you don’t worry. You’re always worrying anyway.

“Okay,” you still say. “It was great though, don’t take me wrong.”

He chuckles, and it’s bitter. “Listen, if you want us to pretend like it never happened, let’s start right now.”

He’s closed off. He was open earlier, a book for you to read. Maybe you’ve ripped the pages away, or maybe you’ve thrown the book off a cliff.

But it’s safer this way. It’s safer to keep Jungkook at an arm’s length. It’s where you keep everyone besides Jiho anyway.

“Okay, sorry,” you apologize. “Good night?”

He sighs once more. “Yeah, good night.” And then he turns away, and it hits you.