#for all i know that clock shop acts as a secret elevator to another part of london somehow

[marenwithanm]

Luke why are you so good at lying??? He didn't even change sprites lol

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt. 7

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

AN: Tick Tock goes the clock. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

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

The buzzing of his phone is what woke Spencer up. He grumbled, fumbling around his bedside table for the source of the noise.

“Hello?”

“Agent Reid?” A vaguely familiar voice asked, “I’m sorry to wake you but I didn’t know who to call and I-“

“What’s going on?” Spencer interrupted, sitting up quickly as he recognized the voice of one of Hotch’s cleared agents.

“I’m on watch at the park this morning and I think something’s wrong. There’s a note and a clear bag full of stuff but no body, and we’ve been here all night. Hotch took the others to meet the director. He said to call you if anything happened.”

“Are you alone?”

“No, my partner’s with me, she’s checking the bushes.” He explained. Vaguely, Spencer could hear the rustling of the partner in the background, “Agent Reid I don’t know what to do here….”

Doctor. The voice in his head corrected instinctively, but he kept quiet, already three steps ahead. Today was the day your stalker was supposed to drop off his next body. Everybody would be on high alert, especially you. If Hotch had gone to the director he must’ve been expecting a pretty serious escalation, and that made Spencer nervous. He glanced out into the lounge, to where he knew you were curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

“Okay, wait there. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He explained, pulling on the first clothes he could find and strapping on his firearm belt, “Just keep the perimeter clear and make sure no one gets in and out, alright?”

“Alright.”

Spencer got ready as fast as he could, running through every possible scenario in his head as the adrenaline started to slowly creep in. He slowly snuck through the living room, smiling softly as he noticed your sleeping form huddled under a pile of blankets. There was something tender about the way you looked then, something different to all the times he’d seen you fall asleep on the jet. Here, you were completely unguarded, comfortable and soft, and it made Spencer absurdly proud to know that he’d made you feel safe enough for that. For a moment he considered waking you up, but he remembered the dark bags under your eyes and the way your shoulders drooped with exhaustion and he decided against it. You’d been going through hell, and you deserved to sleep. Plus, he rationalized as he opened the door and snuck out, it’s not like you could come with him anyway. There was no need to worry you.

Spencer sighed, pushing all thoughts of you to the back of his mind as he forced himself to focus on the case.

——————————-

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you tried very hard to look busy, fiddling with a completed report as you walked through your master plan one last time. Your eyes flickered to Spencer as he talked animatedly with JJ about something you couldn’t really hear. He leaned back against the desk, casually tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and crossing his arms over his chest. The sleeves of his read sweater and shirt were rolled up above his elbows and you couldn’t help but glance at his exposed forearms and hands. Spencer’s hands were...unfairly attractive. Truly, truly unfairly attractive. The kind of attractive that made doing your job really difficult and made you wonder what exactly was going on with you. His hands, Y/N? You asked yourself, his hands? Really? Get it together man.

But it was too late, you were completely and utterly smitten. You knew it, your friends knew it, the lady at the coffee shop knew it. You were pretty sure every living person in Virginia knew it, except Spencer. Hopefully. Hopefully Spencer didn’t know, yet at least.

Just then you heard him laugh and your nerves intensified. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should just go home and forget this stupid plan and everything would go on as normal. You could do normal, right?

“Hey there, pretty girl,” Morgan greeted, “what’re you doing here so late?”

You flushed, “Oh I-you know-“ you let out a breathy laugh, “just finishing off some work.”

He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly, but let the matter drop, pulling you into a right side hug, “Alright, Y/L/N, keep your secrets. You know I’ll find out, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re relentless, I know,” you smiled back, “seriously Morgs, I’m all good.”

He nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “Okay. I’ll see you, kid.”

You waved him off, feeling a familiar pinch of guilt in the pit of your stomach as he vanished off into the elevator. Out of the corner of your eye you saw JJ step away from Spencer and you took a deep breath, steeling every last bit of nerve you had.

“Hey, Spence, can you wait for a minute?” You called, hoping you didn’t sound quite as nervous as you felt.

Spencer cocked his head to the side, but gave you a small smile, “Sure, Y/N/N, what’s up?”

You took another deep breath, fighting the urge to look away or fiddle with your bag, “I was-um-what’re you doing tomorrow?”

Spencer thought for the briefest moment before answering, “Tomorrow? I’ve got a report to do and some cold cases to go over and then I was just going to go home and read a few books. Why?”

You flushed. This was it. This was the moment you’d been hyping yourself up for all week.

“I was just wondering if you’d maybe want to go see a movie or something?” You asked all in one breath, forcing yourself to meet his eye.

Spencer frowned, “A movie? Y/N, you know I don’t have a DVD player.”

“No!” You quickly corrected with a nervous laugh, as your heart rate doubled, “No, Wise Guy, I meant with me, like at a cinema. There’s a foreign film festival in town I thought you might like.” You paused and then continued, “And maybe after we could get dinner, or coffee or something? If you’d like.

You waited for an answer, but none was forthcoming. For a long while Spencer just stared at you, opening and closing his mouth like a confused goldfish. Every second that he was silent, your heart sank just a little further and you felt your skin start to burn with embarrassment.

“Y/N-“ Spencer started.

Your eyes were pricking with tears of embarrassment, but you blinked them away, quickly shoving your last few possessions into your bag and forcing a smile.

“It’s cool. I get it,” you said quickly, “No hard feelings, but I had to try. See you, Reid.”

You vaguely heard him call your name again, just once, but you ignored him, rushing through the bullpen faster than you’d ever gone before. You wanted to scream, or rip your face off, or curl up in a ball and die, but you could do that here. Not with Spencer’s eyes still boring into your back like a drill. The elevator door closed and you slid to the ground, burying your face in your knees as the suppressed tears slid down your cheek.

You pulled out your phone and dialed the first number you could think, “Morgs? Are you and ‘Nel still at her apartment?” You asked, sniffing, “Can I come?”

————————————-

When you woke up you had the vague impression that you’d been sad recently. It was a fleeting impression, gone as soon as you registered it, but it confused you and set an odd tone for the day. You looked around, remembering the previous night and the conversation you’d had with Spencer, and smiled gently. You’d never thought that you’d be able to be friends with Spencer again, not after your disastrous attempt at asking him out. Ugh, just the thought made you cringe with embarrassment. But he’d forgiven you, it seemed. Or at least he hadn’t brought it up or acted weird and uncomfortable with you, which was a relief.

“Morning, Doctor Reid,” you called, “what’re you making me for breakfast?”

The only answer was silence. You sat up, letting your blanket fall away.

“Spencer?” You called again, “Are you home?”

Again, no answer. Just then, your phone rang and you answered.

“Hey, ‘Nel, is Spence with you?” You asked quickly.

“Sugar Plum!” She greeted, “You’re up.”

Despite yourself, you smiled, “I know, it’s miraculous. Is he at the office?”

“Nope,” Penelope answered, “he’s not on duty today. Well, he is but not like, FBI duty, he’s on Y/N duty. He’s not with you?”

“No,” you admitted, strolling through the apartment to double check, “looks like he left in a hurry.”

“Maybe he went to get breakfast or coffee or something,” Penelope suggested, “you know he doesn’t tend to keep actual people food in his lair.”

You worried at the inside of your cheek, a nagging worry still sitting in the pit of your stomach, but you pushed it down.

“You’re probably right,” you sighed, “can you ask Hotch if he’s seen him just in case?”

“Sure thing, hun. Him and Emily are right here.”

“Okay, thanks ‘Nel, let me know if you hear from him?” You asked.

“But of course, mon ami,” she agreed, “and if anything comes up in the case I’ll call.”

You put the phone down and shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of whatever funk you were in. It wasn’t abnormal for Spencer to leave to get coffee without telling anyone, and it was just like him to do something sweet like going to get breakfast for you both. But it wasn’t like him to leave without waking you, especially not with what was going on.

“Stop it,” you told yourself, “stop worrying. He’s fine. It’s fine.”

So you forced yourself to behave normally. You made coffee, brushed your teeth, pulled on a set of fresh clothes and perused Spencer’s extensive library, picking a book and settling onto the couch. More time passed. More time, the clock tick tick ticking away the minutes. Pretty soon it was obvious that Spencer wasn’t getting coffee, and then your anxiety spiked. For a long while you just stared at a random page in the book, not absorbing anything whatsoever as your mind raced.

Your phone beeped and you grabbed it frantically, relaxing when you saw Spencer’s name on the screen.

“Spence,” you sighed with relief as soon as you picked up the phone, “oh my god I was so worried. Where the hell are you?”

For a second there was just heavy breathing and then, frantically “Y/N don’t-“

“If you want to see Spencer Reid alive again, meet me at the address I’ve programmed into your car’s GPS,” a robotic voice said, “come alone. If you tell anyone where you’re going, I’ll kill him. If you bring back up, I’ll kill him. If you don’t show up, I’ll kill him. You have twenty minutes.”

You felt like the world had stopped spinning, like the floor had dropped out from under you and you were free falling into empty space. There were chills running up your spine and your heart pounded like an anvil in your fragile rib cage. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer, it pounded. Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. How had he gotten him? You were living your worst nightmare in real time. You saw the mutilated body in your bookstore, the gruesome crime scene photos on Rossi’s crime boards. Was that Spencer now? Was he dead because of you? You imagined him lying on the ground, helpless and bleeding out, his deep brown eyes lifeless and still and, without meaning to, a whimper ripped itself from your throat.

“He’s alive.” You told yourself firmly, “He’s still alive.”

You could barely think. You were in a kind of fugue state. Nothing but pure instinct and muscle memory got you into your car and onto the road and the first cognitive thought you had, as you got closer and closer to the destination, was that you would never be making this return trip. This type of stalker would never let you go, never. He’d never let Spencer go. He’d kill himself and both of you before he let you slip out of his grasp again. This was his endgame for some reason, and you were playing right into it. But what else could you do? He had you in the palm of his hand. The fact was, no matter what you wanted or thought or knew, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for Spencer Reid, nothing you wouldn’t risk. You would walk into hell and back for him, and that was that.

Somewhere along the drive you accepted your death. You would not make the return trip, and that was okay. You would die sometime soon, but so would this monster. He would kill you, and you’d use your last moments of strength to take the son of a bitch down with you. He wouldn’t get the chance to hurt anyone else, you promised yourself. No matter what happened, you would be his last victim. You would find a way to save Spencer too, you repeated to yourself again and again. You wouldn’t make the drive home, but Spencer would. You would do whatever it took to keep him alive.

The GPS announced that you had arrived at your destination, an old house on the outskirts of a quiet suburb. You took a moment in the car to breathe, tightening your knuckles on the steering wheel. You ached to just call Penelope, to tell her everything and let the team rescue you. Oh God, your friends. How would they feel when they found your body? After all the work they’d done to keep you safe, here you were throwing it all away. On a whim, you grabbed your phone and sent a quick group message.

From Y/N Y/L/N

Thank you for everything. I love you all so much

Short, sweet, not even nearly enough. You’d meant to say more, you’d always meant to say more, but you’d thought you had years. Two tears slipped down your cheek as you stepped out of the car, leaving your keys in the ignition so that Spencer would have a way to get away when it was all over. There was an FBI sedan parked in the driveway, but at this point you didn’t care much about the profile. All that mattered was getting this over with.

Luckily your stalker hadn’t specified that you couldn’t bring a gun. You drew your weapon, but didn’t bother with stealth, striding straight into the house with a single minded focus.

“I’m here,” you called, “where are you?”

You heard the sound of shuffling coming from a back room, a fist connecting with something solid and you bit back a whimper.

“We’re in here,” Spencer said, his voice tinged with pain.

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears but you kept your trigger finger steady. Despite the terror, you were trained for this. You would not fail. Before you stepped into the room, you felt a tinge of panic. You weren’t ready for this. You weren’t ready to face the man who’s caused all this, but you had to. You had to. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, calming yourself down and schooling your features into something serene. You had to focus on not escalating the situation, that was your best shot at keeping Spencer alive.

“You can do this,” you whispered, to yourself, “you can do this.”

And, with that, you stepped into the room, “FBI, put your hands in the air.”

—————————

“Y/N,” a familiar voice greeted with an almost breathless excitement, “I was worried that you wouldn’t come.”

You felt bile rise in your throat, “Agent Connolly?”

“I knew you remembered me!” Rick Connolly cheered, the barrel of a handgun pressed to Spencer’s temple.

Your heart pinched at the sight, but you tried not to let the fear show up in your face. Rick Connolly had worked at the BAU for longer than you had. It made a sick sort of sense, the worst kind. He’d been on cases with you, written up paperwork with you, helped with filing. His background checks were always clean, there’d never been any complaints against him. Never. He was a good agent, a reliable ally for the BAU. No matter what happened, Agent Rick Connolly was always close by.

“Of course I remember you, Connolly,” you said with a forced smile, “how could I possibly forget you?”

“Rick.” He insisted, “It’s Rick.”

“Rick, of course, sorry-“

“You call him Spencer,” Connolly interrupted, pressing the barrel of the gun into Spencer’s temple harder and snarling down at him, “not Reid, Spencer. I heard it when he called you.”

“Hey, hey hey,” you said quickly, lowering your gun and raising your hands, “I’m sorry. It was a mistake, of course I should call you Rick. I mean, Spencer is just a work colleague, right? But you’re so much more.”

His eyes lit up with a perverse hope, “I am. I love you more than any of them. I’ve done more for you than any of them. I did all of it, all of it!”

“I know, thank you,” you replied, forcing another gentle smile, “for doing all of that. For loving me like you do.”

You could feel Spencer’s eyes on you, watching you like you were a lifeline, or like he was scared he’d never see you again, but you kept your eyes on Rick.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back.

“But, now that I’m here,” you tried gently, “now that you’ve got my attention and I know how much you love me, why don’t you let Spencer go, hm? That way we can be alone.”

Rick frowned, “Let-let him-? No! No way!” He tightened his grip again and Spencer groaned with pain, “Don’t you see? He needs to die. He’s trying to keep us apart! He wants you gone for good.”

You shook his head, feeling the rising panic, “No he doesn’t, Rick. Reid is my friend, he would never try and keep us apart, right Reid?”

For a moment Spencer was silent, swaying on his feet, but he managed to nod his head and get out a small, “She’s right.”

“YOU’RE A LIAR!” Rick yelled, cocking the gun.

“No!” You screamed, forcing Rick’s attention back to you, “Rick, I don’t understand. I don’t understand why he needs to die. I understand the rest, but I’m still confused. Can-would you be able to explain it to me?”

Rick looked confused for a moment, his gaze jumping between you and Spencer. You held your breath, praying you hadn’t overplayed your hand, only relaxing when he turned back to face you.

“He,” he started, gesturing the gun at Spencer, “got you shot. He let you walk into an active bomber situation alone,” he explained, “he spent years nearly getting you killed and then, when he saw our love, he made you leave! He wants you to be alone and miserable! He wants me to be alone!”

You tried to process the rush of information as quickly as you could, latching onto the first advantage you could find.

“Spencer didn’t make me leave,” you said.

“He did! I saw it! You asked him to go out and he turned you down! He lead you on and then he rejected you, so you left!” Rick yelled, “You thought you were alone, you both did, but I was there, watching. I was always watching. I had to keep you safe, I had to make sure you were protected.”

Spencer whimpered, his shoulders slumping with defeat, as though he’d been found out, and you looked at them both, confused. What on earth were they on about?

You felt the realization click, and your eyes widened with surprise “Oh Rick, oh no you misunderstood.” You started. You stepped closer, keeping your hands raised to show that you weren’t a threat, “You’re right, Spencer did say no when I asked him out, but I’d already resigned by then. I was going to tell him that night but I didn’t get the chance. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine.”

———————————

Spencer was in pain. Deep, aching, throbbing pain. He was pretty sure he had at least one cracked rib, maybe more, and the swift punches to his stomach had knocked the wind right out of his chest. His head was heavy and thick with confusion and, without the strong arm holding him up, he would’ve collapsed onto the floor. Everything in Spencer’s body screamed for an end to the pain. But that was nothing compared to the sick, heavy weight of guilt that hit him when he saw your face. He’d brought you here, you’d come for him. He’d let himself get caught, he’d fucked up. He’d put you in danger when you’d trusted him, but God, he was relieved to see you. And he hated himself for that.

You were beautiful. So so so beautiful. Had he ever told you that? Even with your face set into a mask of calm and determination, you were radiant. Wait, what? He thought to himself, what’re you thinking? Your eyes flickered over to him with a subtle note of concern. Focus, Spencer, he told himself, what did she just say?

His captor seemed confused. He was shifting his weight from one foot to another, looking between the two of you like you were a particularly frustrating puzzle.

“What-what does that-why are you saying this?” Rick asked loudly, lifting the gun to point it at you, “Why’re you saying this?”

You flinched, but stayed calm, “Because it’s the truth. Spencer isn’t the reason I left, he had nothing to do with it. Spencer wants us to be together, that’s why he brought me here.”

You spoke to Rick in a low, soothing voice like he was a wild animal and, as you spoke you were creeping closer and closer. Spencer tracked your movement with his eyes, noticing that you’d shifted your gun belt to be on the side closer to Spencer. It wasn’t an accident.

“Rick, baby,” you crooned, “I’m so proud of you. You’ve accomplished so much, but you don’t need to do it anymore. I’m here now, I’m yours. Let’s get out of here, just you and me, before anyone else arrives.”

“You want that?” Rick asked.

“Of course I do,” you said, with a sweet laugh, “but that gun is scaring me. Can we put it away and let Spencer go so that we can go?”

There was a long pause. Rick looked like he was in a trance, staring at you like you were a walking daydream. Your eyes flickered to Spencer and softened for just a second. Just a brief moment of acknowledgment, almost as though you simply couldn’t help yourself. You were close enough now that Spencer could smell your perfume, which was lucky because, right then, Rick’s dreamy look vanished and he began lifting his gun and pointing it right at you.

“LIAR!” He yelled.

Spencer heard the unmistakable pop of a gunshot, but he had no time to check where it had landed. Instead he lunged forward, grabbed your gun and, in a moment of instinct, pulled the trigger, sending a bullet straight into Rick’s right shoulder. Rick dropped his gun and, in an instant Spencer was on his back, immobilizing him with the pair of cuffs you handed him and rendering him harmless. For a long moment there was just silence as Spencer stared down at the man who had tricked him, savoring the moment of victory until it was broken by a pained gasp. His stomach sank. The bullet, the bullet, where was the bullet Rick had fired?

“Oh my God.” You said breathlessly, sinking down against the nearest wall as blood started to stain your crisp white button down, “Fuck.”

The blood was coming from your abdomen, from a hole just left of your naval that you were pressing your sleeve against in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Your cheeks glistened with tears as you fought not to tense up despite the pain and Spencer felt, for the first time that day, true unadulterated panic.

“No, no no no no,” he said quickly, rushing to your side and gripping your free hand with his, “hey, look at me, we’re gonna be alright. Just keep your eyes open. Stay with me.”

You breathed out slowly through your mouth, “Don’t worry, doc,” you replied through gritted teeth, “ ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

Spencer tried to assess the situation, but there was too much panic and adrenaline and fear in his system, and all he could see was the tender way you looked at him, and how you’d smiled the night before. His hands were shaking even where they held yours, and his eyes pricked with suppressed tears. You needed a hospital. You needed surgery and he couldn’t save you. He couldn’t carry you without making you bleed out, and he didn’t even know where you were. He was helpless.

“I’m so sorry, Spence,��� you said softly, “I never-I never meant for you to get hurt.”

Spencer laughed incredulously, even though nothing had been less funny in his entire life, “You have nothing to be sorry about. You saved us,” he squeezed your hand and was rewarded with a weak smile from you, “you always save us,” he continued, even more gently, “Rick was right about that. You’ve been saving me for years.”

“And you've saved me right back,” you pointed out, your voice heavy with the effort of keeping your eyes open.

Spencer pressed his lips together, tears pouring down his cheek as he fought back sobs and silently prayed to a God he’d never believed in for some kind of miracle.

“But I can’t save you now,” he sobbed.

“No, but we can,” a third, familiar voice answered.

If Spencer had been any less shocked, he would have laughed at the timing of it all. As it was, he just stared into the eyes of his team as though he wasn’t sure they were real.

“MEDIC! We need a medic in here.” Derek Morgan continued, appearing in the doorway like the miracle he was and instantly taking control of the situation.

He scooped you up like you weighed nothing, carrying you out through the doorway just as Emily helped Spencer to his feet and slung his arm around her shoulders to help support his weight. Somewhere in the background Spencer could hear Hotch reading Connolly his rights, and Rossi making some comment about Rick wishing it had been a kill shot. Everything felt surreal, like some sort of fantasy or a hallucination he’d created to keep from having to lose you again, but he didn’t have the strength to fight it.

“Y/N,” he said softly as Emily handed him off to a nearby medic in the back of a waiting ambulance, “I need to see, Y/N. Please, is she alive?”

The medic gave him a sympathetic smile, bundling him onto a gurney, “I can’t let you see her, sir. They’re taking her straight to surgery.”

“But she’s alive?” Spencer insisted as the paramedics fussed and flitted around him.

The original medic nodded, “For now, she’s alive.”

----------------------- 

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[scenarioslovers]

Lonely Heart |2| Jungkook

I don't buy idea of second chance. With hope we make a lot of chances.      -Toba Beta

“Daddy, that’s hurt.” Jungkook let go of her hair as he looked at her little frown reflecting on the mirror.

“I am sorry. I am sorry.” He said as he kissed her head. Her hair was everywhere now, it was messy and facing every direction. She wanted to have a pigtail nut he cannot even tie the hair band as her liking. “What about you go for straight hair today?”

“Noo.” She kicked the ground, doing a little mad dance. “The teacher will shout at me. We aren’t allowed to let our hair lose; we should tie it.”

“Why would they make you do it?”

“Because it is the rules daddy.” Ella sighed as she snatched the hair band away from her father and looked at her hair in the mirror. She started to tie it on her own, not good but much better than what her father trying to do. “I wish mommy was here.” She pouted, turning around to look at her father. “Is she coming back today?”

“I don’t know sweetheart.” Jungkook sighed, suddenly feeling down.

“Where did she go? To grandpa and grandma?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so.” He shook his head; the heart was full of worry. He tried to call you so many times, but you wouldn’t pick up. He called your parents, your best friend all of them said they didn’t see you recently. His heart was beating so fast in his chest, with all the possible scenarios about your whereabout running through his mind.

“Is the school bus?” Ella screamed when a car horned outside the house. Jungkook’s eyes widened as he looked at the clock it was seven thirty already. He spent almost half an hour trying to tie her pigtail. “I didn’t have breakfast yet.”

“Oh.” And he didn’t prepare the lunch box for her either.

Ella shook her head as she grabbed her bag and ran outside of the house, trying to catch the bus. “I really miss, mommy.”

“I am a sorry kid,” Jungkook said loudly as she closed the door behind her. Jungkook felt really sorry. He couldn’t understand how you could do all of this in the morning. Preparing Ella for school, doing her hair, helping her with her stuff, preparing food for him and Ella, all while sleeping late at night to finish your book and waking up so early.

You were a superhero and he didn’t realize what you were doing for him and Ella until you were gone.

He couldn’t imagine how tired you were. He had done this for almost two days now and everything was messy. Jungkook had no time to clean the house, our shopping for the house.

The house suddenly was large and empty. He missed you around, missed your little teases, your high-pitched laughter, your smile when he comes home after an award show. Jungkook thought that no one would look at him with adoration and proudness like you look at him.

Something inside of his chest tightened and it was hard to swallow, hard to breathe, hard to think. He couldn’t live without you.

Pressing his lips together, he reached for his phone and called you again. However, it was useless. “Where are you, Y/N?” He groaned, regretting letting you go in the first place. He should have begged for forgiveness. He knew what he did was unforgettable. “I am so stupid, please come back.”

~~

“You are getting a divorce?”

“No.”  You were eating carrots and reading a book when you answered Hoseok who welcomed you into his house for the last two days. You thought it was the perfect place, where you could stay. Jungkook would never imagine that you actually stayed at one of his member’s house. You went to Hoseok since he was the closest member to you. You were close to all of the members but something about Hoseok was so comforting that he became the keeper of your secrets. “Did you know about him?”

When you got no answer, you glanced up at him. Hoseok looked uneasy. You frowned, lines appearing between your eyes. “You knew.”

“Recently. Not from so long. Jungkook was saying how he did something stupid and…”

“Stop. I don’t want to hear about it.”

“He really screwed up. He knows that.”

“Whatever. Of course, you knew. I am so stupid.” You rolled your eyes, returning back to your book. “Did he tell you how he was her and still laughed at my face, kiss me, live with me, and share the same bed?” You snapped, glaring at him. When he opened his mouth to speak, you looked back at the book, shrugging. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

Last week, Jungkook called all the boys and kept drinking until he was drunk. The members were so worried about him, but after he told them what he had done and how he regrets it, they looked at him speechless.

“I want to erase this part of my life, forever.” Jungkook had said.

“Did you tell her?” Jimin asked, worriedly.

“Of course not.” Jungkook laughed bitterly. “I don’t want her to know ever. She would be so heartbroken.” Suddenly tears rolled down his cheeks, as he reached for another cup of wine, but Taehyung was faster to pull it away.

“Hyung!” Jungkook groaned, sobbing. “What should I do now?”

“This kid…” Yoongi shook his head as he sighed walking out of the room.

“I think you should tell her, Jungkook,” Namjoon said, his voice was filled with sadness.

“Tell her, I cheated on her.” Jungkook snapped. “Oh, Y/N. You weren’t around much, and I found someone else to be with while you are busy.”

“At least apologize.”

“So, I am sorry for being such a jerk.” Jungkook laughed with tears in his eyes. “WOW.”

Jungkook was in a really bad shape until Jin snapped at him with harsh words made him shut up and stares at nothing. It was as if reality and guilt hit him hard. Hoseok couldn’t say anything at that time. He was too shocked to react, just listening. After that day, Jungkook didn’t even remember what he had told them, and they decided to keep to themselves. Some things were meant to be secret. And they knew how much Jungkook loved you, they didn’t want to make things worse.

“You aren’t mad at me, are you?” Hoseok asked cautiously.

“A little.” You confessed as you looked at him again. “a lot”

“I am sorry, I didn’t tell you.”

“Hoseok thank you for being our friend. I bet you are torn between you and him.”

“I am on your side though. I was shocked when he told us. He was so drunk and…” You gave him warning glare and he sealed his lips, before saying. “I am not with what he had done. Are you really not divorcing him? People normally get a divorce because of this.”

“No.” You said, shutting the book close. “No, no. I am not getting a divorce.” You took a deep breath; you don’t want your emotions to get the best of you. So, you stared into a focal point of nothing, trying as much as you can to speak normally. “I cannot let Ella live in a separated family. She adores her father.”

“What about you, Y/N?” Hoseok took your hands as he kneeled before you. You looked at him, at his eyes and you saw how he felt so sorry for you. At that moment, you lost it. Tears were rolling down your cheeks. Hoseok’s arms wrapped around you as you cried.

“I don’t want to be alone, Hoseok.” You said when he pulled away from you, sitting beside you with one arm around your shoulder. He was rubbing it up and down for you to calm down. “I can’t imagine my life without him. I don’t want to leave. I already miss him so much.”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Hoseok squeezed you into him. “Just give yourself some time.”

“I hate that I love him so much. Do you think he loves her?”

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “But I know he loves you and only you. Maybe he acted before he could think. It was just a mistake.”

“What if I forgive him now and he does it again? I cannot take it, really. My heart is already breaking, I cannot go through this again.” Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you stood up suddenly, surprising Hoseok. “I am going to the club.”

“What?” Hoseok exclaimed.

“I am going to the club! I will dance with strangers, kissing some rich men and drink my ass off.”

“No,” Hoseok said, standing in front of you, blocking your way. “Y/N you are just heartbroken. Don’t take action before you think and if you think this is an act of good revenge, no it is not.”

“Hoseok.” You closed your eyes before opening them again. “I am going whether you like it or not.” You patted his shoulder, before subsiding him and walked out of the house.

Hoseok couldn’t help himself but follow you. He knew too well that you were just angry, and your emotions were moving you, making you take the stupidest decision which you would probably regret later.

“Y/N, you are a married woman with a child.”

“Tell that to your friend.” You shouted not looking at him as you fastened your base away from him. But when you came close to the elevator you had to slow down.

“I am coming with you.” Hoseok pressed the elevator’s bottom and you rolled your eyes.

“I am not a child. I can go alone.”

“You aren’t in your righteous state of mind.” He smiled. “As the godmother of your daughter, I will protect you as well.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Hoseok really did a lot of things to your family. You and Jungkook called him the protector of your family.

When you reached the ground floor, you froze in your place when you saw Jungkook in front of you. You glared at Hoseok who shook his head and shrugged. “It wasn’t me.”

“So, you were here.” His expression softened at your sight.

“I will keep going.” You told Hoseok as you looked at him over your shoulder, completely ignoring Jungkook.

Your shoulder pumped into Jungkook as you walked past him. Before you could walk away, Jungkook reached for your hand, stopping you.

“Leave me, Jungkook.” You snapped, tried to pull away from him.

“Let’s talk, Y/N,” Jungkook said, but you kept squirming under his arm.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“We have to talk.” His grip was strong on yours, you winced in pain and Jungkook let go almost immediately, before taking your hands in his, gently this time. “I am sorry, did I hurt?”

“Yes, you did.” You said, your breath hitched in your chest. “You hurt me so much, Jungkook.”

When Jungkook looked at you, knowing so well that you weren’t talking about your hands. He gulped when he saw them again, tears.

“It hurt so much, I could die, Jungkook.” Your voice cracked. “What has gone wrong? How did we become like this? When did we lose each other to our work, our life, our duty? Tell me…”

Jungkook took a deep breath, his thumb was creasing your knuckles. He was scared to let go again.

“I know… I know what I did has no excuses and cannot be justified.” He licked his lips, looking at your hands, he couldn’t meet your eyes. “I thought I was losing our relationship, but then I lost me, and I did what I did. I don’t ask you to forgive me, Y/N.”

Gulping hard, he looked at your eyes. “I just want a second chance; I will prove to you that I can be better. I will do better. Please. I love you so much. I miss you; Ella misses you.”

“Our life was too perfect.”

“I am an idiot for destroying that. I know.”

“It is hard to stay perfect I guess.”

Jungkook looked at you and you saw hope in them. “I love you. I don’t know what happened really I…”

“I love you too Jungkook. I love you, those words aren’t enough to justify how I feel about you.” You wiped your face with the back of your hand. “I don’t know if love is enough anymore.”

“Our love could be more.”

“Was.”

“Will be.” He titled his head, his eyes suddenly confident as a hint of a smile displayed on his lips. You couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes.

“Oh, I hate you.” You groaned, pushing him away, but the smile never left your face. “You have to work your way back to me.”

Jungkook watched you as you walked away. Looking back at Hoseok, he shrugged, shaking his head.

“I guess that’s your call, boy.”

“Is that a yes? Is she okay now?”

“You have been with her 6 years now boy. You know here better than I do.” A grinned brightened Hoseok’s face.

“Right, thank you, Hyung.” Jungkook’s face reddened before turning around and following you out of the build.

Hoseok sighed when they were gone. “Sorry, Y/N. You needed to talk to him.”

fin

_________________________________

so hi! Thank you for reading, really thank yoooooou! You just made my whole return worth it to be honest. I hope this was as good as the first part. I will be waiting for your little comments 

Part one link: previous part

[fatgirlwritesscenarios]

Masterpiece

((This one I did for fun because who doesn’t love Jeonghan?! And I haven’t written anything sweet for him yet, so...here we are. This one goes out to all of my chubby/fat readers! Enjoy, my ladies!))

Pairing: JeonghanxChubby!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5,302

Summary: Chan was on a mission to find out what the hell Jeonghan was being so sneaky for. What he found may or may not have been fully clothed. Either way, he wasn’t prepared for it. 

Jeonghan had a secret. Chan knew that he did. It wasn’t some vague, obscure secret that Jeonghan just forgot to tell them about, like what kind of pet he had when he was in kindergarten. This secret was…bigger, more important. This was something he deemed worth hiding even from the other members and when Jeonghan really set his mind to something, he did just the most.

The signs were there, but you wouldn’t know any better unless you were paying close attention to him. Chan started noticing it in the way Jeonghan was constantly- constantly- glued to his phone, how he had it with him literally at all times and took care to never leave it unattended. How certain messages would come through and he would immediately drop everything to answer them; their manager couldn’t even get him to respond that quickly. Smiles bigger than his face would glue themselves to his lips, but only when no one was looking.

On top of that, Chan started noticing this pattern whenever it came to any free time they would have. For the most part, Jeonghan was present at the dorms with them or going out to lunch or going shopping, unless they had free time on either a Wednesday or Saturday. If a day off fell on either one of those days, Jeonghan was up and out of the dorm from morning till night, sending messages to Seungcheol periodically to tell him that he was okay, but otherwise never hinted to where he was or what he was doing.

The others brushed it off, or didn’t even notice the pattern. They didn’t even seem to notice that he was acting strange at all and this has been going on for a few months! But Chan noticed.

Chan noticed that Jeonghan had a secret and he was going to find out what it was.

*~*~*~*

8 Am Saturday morning.

It was the first day off for the boys after an exhausting run of variety shows, music shows, concerts and fan signs. They didn’t get back from their last event until well after midnight the night before- which was a miracle in and of itself. About half of the boys ended up crawling into bed the minute they got home, forgoing showers until the next morning. It was understandable that no one had any plans to be up early and with Jeonghan being who is, he was the last person anyone thought would be up before noon.

There he was, though, creeping quietly through the snoring dorm, freshly showered and dressed down in gray trackies, a white shirt and a zip-up hoodie. Chan was up at the same time, having set his alarm clock to make sure he didn’t miss the older. He slowly entered the kitchen just as Jeonghan was rustling through the fridge, more than likely looking for something quick to eat before taking off. Chan saw Jeonghan’s keys, wallet, and a mask on the counter and just underneath the wallet was a piece of paper, something scribbled across it.

Chan moved closer and reached over to slide the paper out. Blue Skies - #2577 stared back at him and he felt his brow furrow in confusion. What the hell did this mean?

“Ah! Chan!” The younger jumped, jerking his head up to see Jeonghan staring back at him with one hand over his heart and the other clutching a yogurt drink. “Why are you sneaking around like this? You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“You’re being dramatic, Hyung,” Chan replied, rolling his eyes just before Jeonghan quickly plucked the paper away from him, “And if I’m sneaking around, it’s because you’re sneaking around.”

“I’m not sneaking around. I’m trying to be quiet so I don’t wake the others. What are you doing up, anyway? I figured you would have been in a coma still along with everyone else.”

“I was going to ask you the same thing? Especially you,” Chan said, earning a bored look from Jeonghan as the older opened the yogurt bottle and drank from it. “Where are you going? You’re always disappearing on the Saturdays that we have off.”

“I’m visiting someone,” Jeonghan answered, finishing his drink and tossing it, “A grandmother that I met a while ago at the grocery store. She lives alone and no one really goes to visit her. I try to make it a point to spend a day with her when I can.”

Seems reasonable enough…a good story. A convenient story, but Chan wasn’t buying it- not fully. Jeonghan had tricked and teased them all too many times for the younger to just accept his explanation at face value. If it came from anyone else, he would have left it. But this was Jeonghan and whatever he was hiding, whoever he was really going to see, Chan wanted to know.

“That’s really nice of you, Jeonghan-ah. Let me go with you. I want to meet her.” There was a brief moment of hesitation on Jeonghan’s part at Chan’s request, but it was just a moment and it passed before the younger could be sure if what he saw in the older’s eyes was panic or not.

Jeonghan shook his head, “Sorry, Chan, but I can’t. I can’t just show up with another person without warning her first and she requires a 48 hour notice. She’s very particular like that. It’s cute.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” Chan insisted, watching Jeonghan quickly pick up his things and place the mask over his mouth, “Just give her one of your charming smiles when we get there. No one can resist those. She’ll forgive you in a second.”

Jeonghan sighed dramatically, as if he was being forced to bear a great burden, before saying, “Unfortunately, not even I can sway every woman. She’s a tough one. Took me months just to convince her to let me start visiting. The only time I would see her was at the grocery store.” He paused, a fond smile touching his lips. Chan stared at him, wondering what memory of this old woman could have created such a gentle gesture. Jeonghan blinked and looked at Chan, his devilish smirk returning, “Maybe next time, Chan. See you later.”

With that, he zoomed out of the dorm and left Chan behind rather rattled by the sudden departure. The youngest pouted at being dismissed, but he wasn’t about to give up so easily. Rushing back to his shared room, he snatched up a hat and mouth mask along with his own keys, wallet and phone before sprinting through the front door.

If Jeonghan wasn’t going to tell him where he was really going and what he was really doing, then Chan would just follow him.

It was a solid enough plan- as far as spontaneous plans went- and one that worked for the first 20 minutes that Chan trailed behind him. He was sure to keep his distance, but wondered if that was even necessary considering how Jeonghan’s eyes were glued to his phone again, barely looking up to maneuver the crowd. Jeonghan made a quick stop at a convenience store and then one more at a flower stall on the street, Chan diving out of sight behind a vending machine. Armed with the treats and the biggest bouquet the florist had for sale, Jeonghan made his way to the bus stop where they waited only five minutes for the bus to arrive. Chan waited three people behind Jeonghan, keeping his head down once he boarded the bus and taking the seat closest to the front so the other wouldn’t notice him.

The plan to follow him was going smoothly…until the third stop. There was a sudden influx of people that crowded onto the bus, mostly older women, and Chan found himself the victim of handbag assault as the women’s purses bumped and smacked into him. By the time everyone was comfortably situated, the bus was back on route and when Chan peeked up towards the back, Jeonghan was gone.

“What?!” he gasped, groaning and dragging his hands down the bill of his cap, “Oh man, I lost him! Hey, Mister! Do you think you could pull over really quick to let me off?”

“You had your chance, kid! You’ll have to wait until the next stop to get off,” the bus driver answered, not even bothering to glance at him.

Chan clicked his tongue and flopped back in his seat, an agitated sigh passing his lips. “How did he slip past me? Only Jeonghan,” he grumbled, tapping his knee and wracking his brain for his next move, “Where was he going? What was it again that was written on that paper?”

Blue. Something with the color blue. Chan worried his bottom lip and closed his eyes, thinking hard. Blue…Blue Lake? Blue Diamond? Blue…Water?

A sharp gasp and his eyes flew open, “Blue Skies! #2577! What is that? Where is that?”

He whipped his phone out of his pocket and quickly typed in the search engine the words Blue Skies- #2577. A list of apartment buildings that were similar to the search words and a nursing home popped up, Chan groaning at all the possibilities; Jeonghan could literally be at any of these places and while Chan did technically have all day, he still didn’t think there was enough time!

“Well…Hyung did say he was going to visit a grandmother, so the best place to start would be the nursing home,” he muttered to himself, noting that the home was about ten minutes away by bus, “And I’ll just work my way back from there.”

With a certain strong determination that only Chan had to solve this mystery, he settled back for the rest of the ride.

*~*~*~*

Jeonghan accidentally took the wrong bus. He caught his mistake before we went too far out of his way, but he was still 20 minutes late. When he finally made it to his destination, he found himself standing outside of a light blue, 7-story apartment complex, a large stone plaque to his left reading Blue Skies Apartments.

“It’s even nicer in person. And it’s in a really good neighborhood…at least I’ll know she’ll be safe,” he mused to himself, taking only a second more to admire the building before he skipped up the steps and walked through the glass door into the lobby.

He went straight for the elevators, taking one of the three up to the second floor and stepping out into a wide hallway with light blue carpeting and cream-colored walls. He followed the numbers on the doors, searching for the one written on his paper.

2574. 2575. 2576. And 2577.

Making sure that he was presentable enough, that he had his bag of treats and the bouquet he bought hadn’t been crushed while on the bus, he rang the doorbell- momentarily surprised that the apartments even had doorbells- and waited.

All of 10 seconds passed and then…a voice…your voice…sweet and playful calling through the door. “No one’s home,” you giggled.

Jeonghan chuckled himself, whining at you, “Jagiya, come on. Let me in!”

“Sorry, only boyfriends who are on time can enter my sacred temple,” you responded.

“Are we talking about your apartment or your body? Because I’ve been inside both,” he shot back with a smug smirk.

Nothing else got him what he wanted from you more than embarrassing you and, true to prediction, there you were- flinging the door open and glaring at him with a scandalized look on your face.

“Jeonghan!” you hissed, peeking down the halls with flushed cheeks, “You can’t say things like that so loudly outside my door. What if one of my neighbors heard you?”

You could tell he was grinning from the way his eyes crinkled a bit at the corners. He lifted his hand and tugged down his mask until it rested under his chin, his lips pressing swiftly to yours. “Yes…what if?” he teased you, chuckling when you clicked your tongue and then grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him inside.

Once the door was shut, you let him go and crossed your arms under your breasts, looking not the least bit amused, “Remind me why I agreed to be your girlfriend.”

“Because even though I reveal our bedroom memoirs in the hallway outside your apartment, you love me and I love you.”

You only blinked. Slowly. Uncooperative.

“And I absolutely adore you and miss you like crazy when I have to be away from you for as long as I was while promoting our comeback…and I bring you flowers and chocolate.” That seemed to do the trick, a smile blooming on your face when he presented you with the gifts.

You accepted the bouquet and pressed your nose into the petals, inhaling their sweet scent and letting your eyes flicker up to Jeonghan- your handsome and devilishly playful Jeonghan whom you had missed dreadfully while he was away. For fear of inflating his ego, though, you were going to keep that confession to yourself for the moment.

You stepped forward and draped your free arm around his neck just as he wrapped his own around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. He eagerly accepted the kiss you offered, melting into you with zero resistance.

He drew his hand up and down your back, using his other to caress your side, his thumb stopping just on the side of your breast. He missed this, just being with you…just touching you. When you finally broke for a breath of air, he leaned his forehead against yours, the both of you closing your eyes to enjoy the presence of the other.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he whispered back, kissing the tip of your nose and then glancing down at you, “…Are you wearing any shorts under this?”

He was just noticing how little you were wearing, his fingers tugging at the hem of your light purple shirt. It was a long shirt, almost like a dress, and on any other woman it would have been just that: a dress that fell to their knees and nearly swallowed them up. On you, though- on your chubby, supple body, it hugged all the curves and rolls and stopped at the middle of your thick thighs. It clung to your wide hips, dipped slightly into your natural waist and then followed the curve of your breasts, the sleeves billowing over your chubby arms and the neck falling down your shoulder. You were like a Renaissance Era painting, all soft-body and sensuality.  

Jeonghan wished he could paint.

You gave him a little smirk and winked, “Maybe…Maybe not.”

That rattled him speechless, eyes fixed hungrily on the sway of your hips as you sauntered away from him and slowly, oh so slowly, gathered up the fabric of the shirt in your hand, bringing it higher and higher. Just as you were turning the corner into the kitchen, the expanse of your thighs already laying bare to him at this point, Jeonghan caught a glimpse of pink panties and completely lost himself. The bag of snacks and chocolates clattered to the floor as he hurried after you, your shriek of delight ripping into the air a moment later.

*~*~*~*

Four hours, three locations, one long bus ride and one mile hike later and Chan finally found it: Blue Skies Apartments. It took a bit of doing and researching and more resilience than someone should invest in considering the circumstances, but Chan felt he was finally in the right place. The nursing home had been a bust and the next two places after that- a dog groomer and a dorm building of a local university- produced even less results. Chan had been careful in picking the last place he would check before he would be forced to call the whole thing off, but standing in front of the light blue building now, he just had that feeling.

Jeonghan was in here. He had to be. Now if he could only remember what apartment number was written on that paper…

“25 something…25 something…25 something…” he murmured to himself, walking up the same steps Jeonghan took and passing through the same glass doors.

He stood in the lobby for a moment, looking around, trying to figure out what to do or where to go next. There was no one around that he could ask for directions or even if they had seen a rather beautiful looking man come through the building wearing a white shirt, gray sweats and a hoodie with a face mask on. Chan spotted the elevators to his left and decided to just take his chances, stepping inside of one and tapping the number for the second floor. Once there, he wandered off the elevator and down the hallway, muttering the numbers on the doors to himself as he passed them. The closer he got to the 2570s, the closer he felt to solving the mystery.

Of course, there was the chance that Jeonghan wasn’t even in this building and Chan could be making a huge fool of himself- again. However, as he passed 2576 and stopped in front of 2577, he just knew. This had to be it. Jeonghan had to be here.

Chan reached out and rang the doorbell.

*~*~*~*

“I’m starting to think you like my hoodie more than you like me.”

“It’s comfortable. And it smells like you.”

Jeonghan smiled up at you, his head in your lap and tilting into your touch as you carded your fingers through his still-damp hair. You had spent the better part of the last four hours locked in your bedroom where Jeonghan had chased you after your little scene in the kitchen. He took his time reacquainting himself with your perfectly delectable body, how it felt to have you under him…on top of him; what your pretty little sighs and moans sounded like when on the verge of explosive pleasure.

It was the perfect stress reliever followed by relaxing showers that you claimed needed to be taken separately or else we’ll be right back in the bedroom for another three hours.

Now, you both were lounging in the living room, you curled up in the corner of your sofa and Jeonghan stretched out with his head in your lap and some drama playing on the TV while you waited for the food you ordered 30 minutes ago to arrive. He was back in his white shirt and gray trackies, but you had stolen his hoodie to wear over your neon green boy shorts and galaxy blue bralette. He adored how comfortable you were in your own skin, how you weren’t afraid to be sexy and free, especially in front of him.

He reached over his head, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together; “By the way, your apartment’s really nice,” he stated, doing a once-over of his surroundings and noting the stray boxes still scattered here and there. The overall layout of the apartment was quite spacious, the kitchen opening into the small dining room and living room in the same motion. Beyond the living room, down the hallway, was your bedroom, a bathroom and a smaller room where you were you thinking of setting up an office.

You peeked around, too, and said, “Thanks. I’m not completely done unpacking yet, but I’m getting there. Work’s been kind of getting in the way of getting everything finished.”

“How is work going?” he asked, sitting up to face you, “It’s not stressing you, is it? Are you sleeping properly? Eating properly? You know you can’t skip meals, Y/N. You need to keep your strength up or I’ll worry about you. How do you think I’ll feel if you end up in the hospital? I-”

“Jeonghan.” The man stopped rambling when you held his face fast, eyes locked with yours.

You made sure you had his full attention, your thumbs stroking his cheek, before saying gently, “I’m fine, babe. I promise. I’m eating. I’m sleeping. I’m taking care of myself. You don’t need to worry so much about me.”

A smile lit up your face and Jeonghan smiled back, resting his hands on your wrists until they were settled on his shoulders. His arms found their way around your waist, tugging you forward until you’re flush against him.

“It doesn’t mean that I won’t,” he said, kissing your forehead, “It’s my job to worry about you. It’s what happens when you love someone, so you’ll have to get used to it eventually.”

You could relate, recounting the days and nights you spent worrying over him and whether or not he was taking proper care of himself while promoting. That had always been in your nature to concern yourself with the welfare of others; you were still trying to get accustomed to having someone fret over you in return.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to someone so genuine caring about me,” you retorted, squirming when Jeonghan buried his nose in your neck, soft lips grazing your skin.

“Good thing we’ll have a long time to try.”

You squealed as his teeth sank into your neck, struggling to wiggle out of his hold, but finding yourself thrown down on the couch with Jeonghan seeking your lips. A full five minutes passed with you locked in a lazy kiss until you heard the doorbell ring.

“Mmm…I think the food’s finally here,” he muttered against your reddened lips.

“Yeah…I think so, too. We should probably go answer the door,” you breathed back, receiving one last peck before Jeonghan was lifting off of you.

You jumped up from the couch and rounded to the kitchen where you had placed the money and tip for the delivery. Jeonghan chased after you again, tickling your sides and squeezing your lovehandles to the sound of your resistance. He followed you down the entry hall to the door, neither one of you checking the camera and Jeonghan carelessly flinging the door open.

He took one look at the person on the other side and froze, his face paling. Chan felt rooted to the spot himself, his eyes wide and his mouth dropped open behind his mask. You hardly noticed the shift in the atmosphere, more concerned that he didn’t have your food.

“You’re not the delivery boy, are you?” you sighed, your hand on your hip, exposing more of your near-naked body.

Your voice snapped Jeonghan out of his shock, the man pushing you behind him and slamming the door in Chan’s face. That was what jolted the younger out of his own stupor.

“H-Hey! Hyung! Jeonghan Hyung! That’s you, isn’t it?! Hyung!” he shouted, banging on the door.

You stared at Jeonghan as he looked back at you, your heart starting to beat a million miles a minute as dread crept in. “Jeonghan…who is that?” you asked him, hoping against hope it wasn’t one of his group members.

“…Chan,” he answered, flinching when the banging became more insistent.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered, a cold sweat breaking over you, “Ch-Chan? The Chan? The Maknae?!”

Jeonghan nodded his head and you suddenly felt very, very naked. “Oh my god! It’s Chan! He’s here! He’s here and he saw me naked! AH!”

Wrapping Jeonghan’s hoodie tighter around your body, you sprinted through the apartment and into your bedroom, shutting the door with a slam. Jeonghan was left by himself and his persistent youngest member. He briefly entertained the idea of just ignoring him until he went away…then he remembered that it was Chan and he was not just going to go away.

He inhaled and shook the nerves off before opening the door once more. Chan forced himself past him and into the entryway while he still had the chance, pulling his mask down and taking off his hat. “Hyung, what’s going on? What are you doing here? Who was that girl I saw? And why was she practically naked?!”

“You don’t have to keep shouting, Chan!”

The youngest took several deep breaths to calm his nerves, though it didn’t seem to help much. He locked his gaze with Jeonghan’s. “Jeonghan-hyung, what’s going on? I thought you said you were visiting a grandmother. That was not a grandmother!”

How likely were the chances of Chan believing him if Jeonghan told him that you were the granddaughter of this ‘grandmother’ he was supposed to be visiting? Jeonghan stared at the younger, at his wide eyes that dared him to try and lie.

So…the chances were pretty slim, to say the least.

Jeonghan saw you creeping back around the corner, fully dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, looking appropriately embarrassed. Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, he sighed and without breaking his gaze from you, he said, “That’s Y/N. She’s my girlfriend.”

“G-Girlfriend?” Chan choked while you dipped your head, “For how long?”

“A year.”

“A year?!” Now he looked about ready to combust.

You grew a little worried, “He’s not going to faint, is he?”

Chan whipped around at your voice, pointing at you, “You’ve been dating my hyung for a year?!”

“Uuuuuhhhhh….”

“How have-? What?! How have you-? For a year?! A whole year?!”

What else could you or Jeonghan say? A nervous silence fell over the three of you; Chan’s brain practically fried and you and Jeonghan trying to decide if an ambulance needed to be called.

A hesitant knock on the open door disturbed the tension followed by an uncertain voice saying, “Um…delivery?”

*~*~*~*~*

Chan was eventually able to calm down enough to allow himself to be lead into the living room where he was sat down and given some of the takeout. While he mechanically partook in the meal, you and Jeonghan were convening in the kitchen, speaking in hushed whispers while you made tea.

“How’s he looking?” you asked from your hiding place near the sink in the corner, Jeonghan leaning back to peek into the living room.

“His eyes aren’t bulging out of their sockets anymore. That’s progress,” he answered, straightening up.

You folded your arms and leaned against the counter, a frown pulling at the corners of your lips, “What’s he even doing here? How did he find my apartment?”

Jeonghan poked your cheeks, pouting, “It’s not good to frown so much, Y/N. You’ll start to wrinkle early.”

You stared him down, his pout deepening, but his hands falling away obediently, “He got a hold of the paper I wrote the apartment name and number on. He must’ve just looked it up. As for why he went around looking in the first place, I don’t know. I think he was suspicious of me. He was asking me a lot of questions this morning and being really insistent on coming with me.”

“Figures,” you sighed, turning to take the teapot off the fire when it started to whistle, “Poor kid. He got an eyeful, that’s for sure.”

“Speaking of which, new rule: you’re not allowed to answer the door unless you’re fully clothed! The only time you should be half naked and seductive is if I’m coming over.”

An eye-roll met his protest, “I wasn’t trying to be seductive.”

“You never have to try. You’re full seduction all the time,” Jeonghan said, his pout remaining stationary, “I’m already worried about introducing you to the guys one day and having them vying for your attention. I don’t need the added competition of every delivery boy or male neighbor that comes by.”

You giggled and stepped over to him, draping your arms around his neck and fluttering your lashes at him, “You’re crazy if you think anyone can even come close to you.”

That appeased him instantly, but Jeonghan wasn’t one to pass on an opportunity to have you stroke his ego, “You say that now, but what happens if you meet Seungcheol? Or Joshua? Or even Jun?”

“What’s gonna happen is that I’m going to gush about how perfect you are for me and how absolutely in love I am with you. Besides, I doubt any of the other boys would have chased me for as long as you did just for a first date.” You smiled and pecked his lips softly, feeling his arms wrap around your middle, “I’m yours and no one is going to change that.”

Jeonghan hummed and kissed you again, slowly. When you parted, he smiled proudly at you and said, “You still have to be fully clothed when answering the door.”

“Ugh! You’re impossible!” You pulled away from him and prepared the tea, batting his hands when he tried to slide them onto your waist again, “No more fooling around! We need to make sure your bandmate isn’t broken beyond repair.”

“Yes, Jagi,” he drawled, yielding to your wishes.

You shot him a look, to which he just chuckled, before picking up the tray of tea. Just as you were about to exit the kitchen, Jeonghan touched your elbow and you turned your attention to him. His expression confused you- the hesitation that played over his features when he was so happy and optimistic just a moment ago.

“Listen, Y/N…I know you weren’t exactly ready to meet anyone else from Seventeen yet and I know it’s sudden that it’s happening like this. I’m sorry that it ended up being this way.”  

Your face softened and a smile played on your lips. This had been a topic of discussion with Jeonghan several times: meeting all of Seventeen one day. He had been ready to introduce you three months into your official relationship, but you had been resistant. You wanted to keep him to yourself for a while, to explore the ins and outs of your blooming relationship. No friends or fans or even family getting in the way. You just wanted to enjoy him all to yourself for a while.

But you knew that even that would eventually come to an end…and it wasn’t as terrifying a thought as you originally believed. Maybe…Maybe you were more ready than you originally thought.

“You don’t need to apologize, Jeonghan. It was going to happen eventually, me meeting the others. This might not have been the best way for me to meet Chan, but it is what it is. At least we got the ball rolling. One down. Eleven more to go.”

You winked at him and then turned with the tray to go into the living room, Jeonghan hanging back for a bit just to watch you. He watched Chan look up as you approached, shooting to his feet and bowing fervently while apologies spilled from his lips for barging into your apartment. Like the sweetheart Jeonghan knew you to be, underneath your playful teasing that mirrored his own, you just smiled at Chan and waved it off, telling him that all was forgiven.

It took you only a couple of minutes to make the youngest feel right at home, a relieved smile settling on Chan’s face as he accepted the cup of tea you poured for him. Soon, you two were talking and giggling with one another as if you’ve always been friends, Chan hanging on to your every word. Jeonghan had a feeling that the other guys would react the same way to you: comfortable and happy. You just had that effect on people.

Watching you with Chan, Jeonghan wasn’t worried in the least about you meeting the others. It would go flawlessly, he was sure of it.

He just had to make sure that you were both prepared for it next time…and that you were fully dressed.

One down. Eleven more to go.

“Yah! Chan, why are you even here disturbing my day with my Y/N?!”

“Hyung, you were acting really weird!”

[officialydonefanfiction]

Split Across the Continents Chapter #2

Washington DC The rest of the team’s day had been made up of going through bank statements, credit cards, and trying to get into contact with the Pentagon about King’s assignment. So far the pentagon had been worse than useless leaving Tony exhausted and Gibb’s irritable. Then at around four in the afternoon they had managed to get in touch with Maria King who had been out of town on a business trip. That had then led to and hour of trying to console Maria about the death of her husband. All in all, Tony was tired. He continued to ponder Ziva’s reaction to hearing about a ten year old daughter. It wasn’t often that she broke down but then it had been a surprise that neither of them had been expecting.

As the clock ticked past seven in the evening and the team were still working, Gibbs stormed through and ordered them all to have an early night and they would pick up tomorrow. Tony watched as McGee grabbed his coat and sprinted out of the building but he waited. Ziva stayed at her desk appearing to not have heard Gibbs. “Ziva, early night?” Tony prompted her, as he held her coat. “Yes, I know.” She accepted the coat as she stared off into the distance. “I’m coming over tonight.” Tony informed her as he waited for her to pull her coat on. “I know.” Ziva added grabbing her bag. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” She added giving him a small smile to indicate that he was still welcome. “Just give me about an hour to change and grab some stuff.” Tony added as they got in the elevator. Ziva nodded not really listening. The rode the rest of the way in silence but stayed together until they got to their cars. Tony gave Ziva a quick kiss on the forehead and started to head towards his apartment.

Less than an hour later he was knocking on the door to her apartment clutching a DVD and a bottle of wine. “You have a key you know.” Ziva chastised him as she let him. She wore what he knew to be her comfortable clothes and her hair was wet from the shower. “Hello to you too.” Tony nodded as he shuffled off his shoes and accepted the glass of wine that she offered him. “What happened today, Ziva? We deal with kids all the time but you seemed really out of it today.” Tony asked starting up their conversation from earlier. “It’s just that today was the anniversary that I lost her and it just hit me harder than normal.” Ziva explained quietly her voice wobbling dangerously. “Im sorry for forgetting. Seven whole years huh.” Tony mumbled as he pulled her back into a hug. Unlike earlier, he felt Ziva’s body start to shake and it was all he could do not to break down as well. Seven years since Ziva had seen her last. “She’s be ten now, if she is still alive. That’s the worst bit. I don’t know.” Ziva said through her tears. “We’ll find out one day. Then we can put this behind us. We can move forward.” Tony added more for himself than for Ziva. Tony’s use of the plural sent another wave of tears down Ziva’s face. He was so sure that they could do this but she just wasn’t. Almost four years ago she had run off to Israel in a crisis of conscience over keeping this secret, terrified that he would push he away and instead he had pulled her closer. Determined to make it work between the two of them, he had stayed with her throughout the worst of the mourning and self hate. She knew why they still weren’t in a full on married relationship was because she was still so sure that he blamed her for it happening. If only she had told him sooner than none of this would have happened… “None of this is your fault.’ Tony whispered into her ear almost as though he could hear everything that she was thinking. Even though he was wrong. All of this was her fault and now she was paying for it.

The rest of the evening passed in a kind of melancholy domestic way. They ended up watching a movie that neither of them could remember although they both pretended to before collapsing into bed. Tony attempted to pull Ziva in close but she pulled away. “Please don’t do this again.” Tony muttered as she reached for her again. “I can’t. Not tonight.” Ziva mumbled as she turned away. “This self hate Ziva, it won’t change a damn thing and you know it.” Tony added trying to keep his voice even. The last time she did this, he ended up chasing her across three continents. Ziva didn’t reply or turn to face him. Tony left it, to tired to fight tonight, instead opting to fall asleep. As he slipped off he was sure he felt Ziva reach for his hand in the dark.

Ziva’s sombre mood continued on into the next day as they continued to grasp at straws looking for a lead. Abby had combed through the evidence at least four times to no avail and Gibb’s irritation at their lack of a lead was beginning to show. “Do we have anything?” Gibbs shouted at the team as he came in from a coffee run. Tony looked across at his coworkers, McGee shrugged and Ziva shook her head. “We’ve got nothing boss. The wife and kid are coming in today though. Kid, Sara, was staying with a family friend when it happened.” Tony told the boss. “Send them up to the conference room.” Gibbs added to them as he stalked off towards Abby’s lab. “Do you think that they will know anything?” Ziva asked Tony as the tail of Gibb’s coat went out of view. “I doubt it. Kids are rarely involved. The wife seemed properly distraught and surprised about her husbands death.” Tony added. McGee narrowed his eyes though, DiNozzo’s theory was always that the wife did it yet today he had not yet once brought up the possibility of the wife. “What about the wife?” McGee spoke up, well someone was going to have to bring it up. “Subscribing to the DiNozzo theory, probe?” Tony ribbed but shook his head as he did so. “Not this time, she was properly shaken up.” “She seemed it but then we deal with lying spouses all the time.” McGee added. “Lying spouses!” A small middle-aged woman with cropped brown hair and boot cut jeans shrieked. Ziva shot a death glare at McGee before turning to what was obviously Mrs King. “We do not think that anyone is lying Mrs King. IF you would please follow me to the conf-“ Ziva was cut off by the wail of Mrs King. “Marcus would never lie to me and all I want is for you to find the person who killed Sara’s father!” Mrs King shouted as she grabbed onto what seemed like a disinterested ten year old. Sara acted like she hadn’t even heard her mother, preferring instead to scuff her tattered reboks along the carpet. “Mrs King, we are doing all that we can to find out what happened but would you please come with me to the conference room where agent Gibbs will be to help narrow down your husbands last movements.” Ziva spoke calmly as she lead the now hysterical Mrs King to the conference room. Meanwhile Tony was distracted by the young girl following them. She had the same sandy coloured hair as Lieutenant King but the small stature of her mother. What was most striking about her though was the ripped jeans and the expensive leather jacket that Sara was wearing. No way was that being afforded on a lieutenants salary or even with the combined income of her parents. Mrs King hadn’t been dressed in anything flashy and when they went to talk to Mrs King yesterday, their house had been marine housing with no expensive furniture or flashy watches. In fact, that jacket was the most expensive thing he had seen at the King’s. “That is something very wrong here.” Tony quoted in a high voice much to the look of mystery on McGee’s face. “Little Shop of Horrors? Come on McGee.” McGee shook his head and went back to his computer screen. “McGee, the girl’s jacket. That thing is more expensive than anything the King’s own. Now why would a ten year old have that amount of cash to flaunt on clothes?” “Because she saved for years to get it?” McGee questioned, not really following Tony’s thoughts. “No, she had to have gotten the cash from somewhere. I reckon Miss Sara is keeping secrets from her parents.” Tony added. “Now, whilst you are suspecting the ten year old, I have been running down King’s credit card statements. Last night he bought a hotel room in the seediest part of town after frequenting a few bars. I thought to myself, why would he do that when he has a house on the base less than 20 minutes from here so I phoned up the hotel desk and asked if they remembered him. Hotel clerk said that he came in with a woman who was definitely not Mrs King, ergo husband was cheating. Wife found out and had him killed.” McGee finished with a smug smile on his face. “Yeah McGee, but where would she have gotten the money to pay for said killer. The King’s weren’t exactly well off and Mrs King was out of town on a business trip. There are about fifty witnesses to prove it.” Tony shot him down. “I’m still telling Gibbs. I have a motive.” McGee said pulling out his phone and calling Gibbs. Tony pulled a face and sank down at his desk. There was something not right about Sara.

[roxy-davenport]

Temptation

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,397

Prompts: This was written for @neversatisfiedgirl Ree’s Rocky Horror Writing Challenge with the prompt, “Planet, Schmanet, Janet” with demon dean and for @little-red-83 Red’s Christmas songs and coffee shops AU Writing challenges with the prompt, “Baby it’s cold outside.”

Also on AO3

 Dean was different as a demon. He acted on impulse not suppressing any want or desire he had. You knew it was dangerous being with him but you couldn’t stay away.

 You figured holidays and demons didn’t go together but you were pleasantly surprised when he said yes. He sat through all the Christmas movies you threw at him. You had stayed a lot longer than you anticipated. Truthfully you only planned on seeing two movies but being in Dean’s arms and watching cute holidays fics about couples distracted you from your plan.

 Dean bolted off the couch retrieving the DVD once you had finished another movie. Dean looked at you, eyes alight with mischief.

 “Y/N I know you love the holidays and I love seeing you smile but come on kiddo. How many sappy movies can you take? The holiday cheer is killin’ my buzz. What would ya say if we switched gears a bit?”

 You hesitantly met his gaze trying to decipher where he was going with this. He kept his face mysteriously bland. You could say no but he did sit through all the sappy movies even though it’s not his thing. Surely you could give him this. You nodded slowly, smiling meekly, worried what the film was.

 The second he saw you nod, his face changed and his eyes actually flashed back for a second. You gasped suddenly at the change. Dean chuckled as he turned back to you.

 “You get riled up so easily and I wasn’t even trying. It’s just Rocky Horror Picture Show not porn.”

 There was definitely a play here. You watched his movements carefully. They were reserved but calculated. When he sat down on the couch, he sat a bit away from you so as not to startle you. He sat cross-legged, his eyes facing you with the TV on his left. What a strange way to sit to watch a film unless he was really watching you. You shivered at the thought. He slowly started the film taking long glances at you and your reaction to it.

  You had only seen the movie once before with your very outgoing flirty friend who swore by it. You felt a little awkward watching it now with Dean since you identified so much with Janet’s naivety. Frank-N-Furter was always so scary and bit alluring to you. Sort of like Dean himself. They both had a sexuality full of kink and darkness that both drew you in and terrified you.

 A heavy silence filled the room. You were really quite sure Dean was dying to say something. He was smiling and uncharacteristically nervous. His fingers were tapping on the arm of the couch.

 You watched as Dean’s face slowly lit up as the song, Planet Schmanet Janet came on. You started to blush but you couldn’t look away. You were like a moth to a flame. Could anyone really blame you though? Tim Curry was phenomenal. And watching him meant you could try to ignore Dean’s intensity. Dean was singing along to certain parts of the song.

 I won't tell you twice

You'd better wise up, Janet Weiss

Your apple pie don't taste too nice

You'd better wise up, Janet Weiss

 He’d sing it, stare at you, and then his eyes were glued back on Janet and the way she moved around in the scene – at the scared timid look in her eyes as Frank-N-Furter glided around in a corset and tights with amazing legs for a man.

 I've laid the seed, it should be all you need

You're as sensual as a pencil

Wound up like an 'e' or first string

When we made it, did you hear a bell ring?

You got a block, well take my advice

You'd better wise up, Janet Weiss

The Transducer will seduce ya

 You blushed profusely throughout this scene. The second that Frank-N-Furter left in the elevator leaving Brad and Janet to deal with everything, Dean turned towards you again. His tone playful but his eyes were dark, hooded and nearly black.

 “You know you remind me a lot of Janet. I guess that makes me Frank-N-Furter.”

 Dean chuckled darkly. Your face flushed even more. You were a bright tomato at this point. That statement shocked you. Dean saw it, too. Where was he going with this? You were ten times more nervous now.

 Smiling at you Dean continued. “Yeah you’re innocent and sweet and naïve. Janet’s wide-eyed and afraid of Frank-N-Furter’s advances. She’s a good girl -- all prim and proper, wound up tight needing a release desperately but having no sensually so she’s trapped in a hell of her own making. She just needs to let out her secret desires, satisfy her needs, get in touch with her real self. Know what I mean?”

 “Hmmm.” You bit your lip both worried and excited about where he was going.  Was he suggesting you give in to him?

 “Can you relate to Janet’s predicament?”

 You start to feel a shift in the air and get a bit uncomfortable. You move to get up thinking you could use the bathroom as a ruse to put some distance between the two of you. To think about what he’s saying here. Dean sighs.

 “Sit down and stop being a scared little mouse. Demon or not, I mean you no harm, little one.”

 The way he says “little one” and the tone of his voice, sweet but with a lustful edge made you whimper softly. He didn’t miss the sound looking curiously at you.

 You were frozen half up, half down confused by your own desires. Dean used his powers to sit you back down trapping you just like Janet in the scene before. The sexualized very experienced handsome man in front of you looked over your body with hunger. This man could devour you. He’s done this before to women and was still alone. This could end badly for you since you had a habit of getting attached easily. It was dangerous now that he was a demon but the other Dean would never come to you like this and you were too inexperienced to come to him. Maybe the other Dean, the real Dean, didn’t feel the same way Demon Dean felt about you? Maybe this was your only chance.

 You wanted desperately to give in, to experience everything he could offer. It wasn’t like you were a virgin. You’d had a boyfriend before and maybe it would be better with someone who knew what they were doing. Your previous boyfriend was also a virgin and so the sex was okay but nothing to write home about. But Dean was a demon; you couldn’t give in to his dark desires could you?

 You moved your eyes away from his figure landing on the clock beside you. Your eyes widened when you realized just how much time you spent here. You were late. Sam was expecting you. You got up so quickly you spilled the eggnog he made for you on his carpet. The overturned cup of eggnog bumped against your coffee mug nearly spilling that too if not for Dean’s quick hands.

 “OMG I am so sorry. I’m really late. I have to meet Sam.” You spewed out.

 Ignoring the spill Dean turned his attention to you. “Are you running out on me?” He asked clearly offended.

 “I told Sam I would meet him an hour ago. He needs my help with a case.” You nearly pleaded.

 “He can call other hunters Y/N. You’re not leaving, not after that conversation.” Dean uttered a bit harshly.

 “I want what you said. I never thought you’d want me, but yes I would like…but not now.” You state anxiously playing with the bottom of your shirt. Confused why you said yes. Did you really want him like that or did you just want to shut him up by saying yes so you could leave?

 “Then when Y/N?

 “I don’t know but I really can’t stay.”

 “But you want to.” Dean spoke seductively as he moved in front of you bringing your chin up to meet his eyes.

 “I’m sorry Dean. I can’t.”

 Dean released your chin with a sigh. “Baby it’s cold outside.”

 “This evening has been--.”

 “I’m so happy you’re here. Stay with me.” He said offering his hand to you.

 “Been nice but.”

 “Don’t you dare! No buts.” Dean nearly growled.

 “I enjoyed spending time with you and I am like Janet. We’ll talk more later I promise. Sam is expecting me. He’ll be worried if--”

 “Why are you bringing my brother into this. Fuck Sam.” Dean grinds out. He sighs heavily and walks over to his iPod. When he speaks again his voice is much less harsh. “Why don’t we listen to some music? What songs are you into? What song would get out in the mood?

 You blushed. “I can’t.”

 “You haven’t even finished your coffee. I got it special for you. It’s the organic dark roast from that indie place you love. I waited on a twenty-minute line with hipsters to get it for you. You are the biggest coffee snob ever. I must say this shit is coffee gold so I get it. No one I’d rather drink this with.”

 You smiled at the lengths Dean went to, to make you happy. You could just imagine him waiting there, the mark burning into his arm commanding him to kill. But what did he do? He just kept waiting. He stayed in line to buy you coffee? What’s a stronger motivation than the mark? Love? Does he love you? Can demons love? Wouldn’t that mean that old Dean loved you too?

 “I really do have to go.” You spoke a bit more hesitantly as you stepped back from him.

 “Baby, it’s bad out there and your car is stalled -- you know that. It stalled when you got here and now the snow is worse.”

 “I can call a cab.” You shrugged.

 “Sweetheart, there are no cabs out there.” He spoke in a warning tone.

 “I wish I knew how to--.”

 “You’re gorgeous doll. You can’t leave me. Not on the holidays. Baby don’t be cruel.”

 “Break this spell.”

 “Ain’t no spell, sweetie. It’s me and how good I can make you feel. How much you care about me. Don’t lie, sweetie. I know you love me. And I love you. Your old Dean would never tell you that but we love you. Now come here and stop fucking around.”

 “I love you too but I really should go.”

 You couldn’t believe it -- he loved you. He professed his love and you were leaving? What a stupid move on your part. But Sam was expecting you and Dean was a demon now. Leaving was the right choice but then why did you feel so empty?

 “It’s a blizzard, sweetie.”

 “But--.”

 “It’s up to your knees, baby. How can you do this to me? I’m a demon. A demon, mind you, and I say the L word and you say I’m leaving?”

 You freeze staring up at him.

 “Mind if I step closer? Your lips look delicious.” Dean’s eyes held such an intense look you thought he’d ravish you right here.

 You gulped as you tried to avert your eyes from that look. “I can say I tried at least, right?” You whispered hesitantly.

 Dean moved towards you. “Sure, sweetie, as if you would have ever decided anything else.” Dean took a strand of hair out of your face moving closer to kiss you.

 “No. No this is…I can’t say yes. I have to go.” You pushed Dean back. Nerves setting in on how he would have sex or rather on what he would like. You never did anything kinky. You were strictly a vanilla missionary position type girl.

 “But it’s cold outside.” Dean pleaded.

 “The answer is no. I must go.” You moved quickly toward the door.

 “But it’s cold outside.” Dean put his hand on the door his eyes boring down at you.

 “Your brother will be at the door.” You whimper at how dominant he’s being.

 “No way for him to get through the snow storm outside. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Your only choice is me, baby doll.”

 You opened your mouth to speak but Dean stopped you by placing a finger on your lips.

 “Baby, you’ll freeze out there. I refuse to let you risk your life leaving. It’s so warm in here. I’ll take good care of you sweetheart.”

 It was true. The cold was seeping in. You could only imagine how cold it was outside. You bit your lip utterly confused and feeling a bit defeated. Then again staying here meant you’d be with Dean so maybe you should just give in. See what sex is like with him, give in to your darkest desires. There was a snowstorm outside anyway. Why bother running into that when you could run into Dean’s arms.

 “Maybe until I warm up?”

 Warm up? No. You go out there and you’ll freeze your pretty little ass off. It’s final you’re staying here for the night.”

 Dean grabbed your arm and his lips crashed onto yours. You were utterly shocked but moments later responded, kissing him back. He deepened the kiss pushing you gently backwards until your back hit the wall. His hands grabbed your hair keeping you head in place as he ravished your mouth. When he thought you needed air, he pulled your head back by your hair. His breathing ragged, his tongue diving out to lick his lips as his eyes rove over your figure. He ground his cock against your clothed core. You gasped. He was so big and you were very attracted to him. That kiss was fantastic. How could you leave now? Fuck Sam and your responsibilities. You needed to stay and play this out or you’d regret it.

 “If I’m going to stay here I need a fire.”

 Dean smiled as he snapped his fingers making a fire appear in the fireplace.

 “Is that a yes?”

 “There’s no place I’d rather be,” you said earnestly.

 After tonight Rocky Horror Picture Show might be your favorite movie. You held up your warm coffee cup looking straight into Dean’s eyes. “Show me what you made of Frank-N-Furter. I’m tired of being Janet.”

Tagging

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