#if seatbelt has a million fans I’m one of them

[scootkiddo]

what was more culturally significant. the renaissance. or seatbelt.

[outerbankies]

You know how teenager rafe is gonna just be spiralling over reader going to prom with someone else? I’m going to cry cause like he’s a baby and he doesn’t know why he has these feeling for this one person that he’s always kind of orbited around?? And he knows she’s it for him but only deep down cause he’s trying to figure so much out and how could you know who you’re going to end up with at the age of 17 let alone 10 or 12 but he’s always known and aaaaah imagine that kind of love

an angsty little pre-series prom blurb partially inspired by this ^ ask that made me spiralll. thanks anon i hope u like this!

—

new light blurb: before we knew — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

obv takes place pre-series in high school! referenced in part 1

warnings: underage drinking

“Top, it’s not fucking funny.”

“It’s kinda fucking funny, Y/n/n. Like, way more than a little.”

Rafe had ditched the last fifteen minutes of statistics when he finished his test early today, and he’d been messing around on his phone for ten minutes waiting for the rest of you to come and get in Topper’s Jeep so you could all go to lunch off-campus today.

Rafe stands up straight from where he’d been leaning against the hood when he hears your voice approaching, his smile matching yours once you see him. “Hey, Rafe. How did your stats test go?”

“Good, hey, Y/n. What’s not funny?” he asks, opening the passenger side door for you before sliding into the backseat behind you.

“Oh, get this, Rafe,” Topper says, laughing. You just groan again, clicking your seatbelt on. “Griffin is gonna ask Y/n to prom. Tomorrow.”

Rafe blanches. “Griffin?”

He knew Griffin thought you were hot. Certainly had to hear it enough times in the pool at practice every day. Rafe always found himself biting back a remark—well, almost always. As captain, Rafe was able to tell everyone to run another play whenever he felt like it. The extra exertion in the pool was nothing compared to having to tread water and hear his teammate talk about you like that.

But even after all of that, he still had no idea Griffin had the balls to actually make a move on you. Because Rafe could tell you’d seriously rather die than ever give Griffin the time of day. And Griffin had been pursuing you without luck for months, even though you’d been trying to gently show you weren’t interested. Half of the time, Rafe wished you'd just tell him to fuck off.

The other half of the time, Rafe was considering just doing it for you.

Rafe clears his throat after his outburst, a finger digging into a hole in his jeans. “How do you know?”

“He just told me in PE,” Topper says. “He said he has this huge banner, and speakers, and he’s gonna do it at lunch right in the middle of the quad—”

“Topper.” You cut him off a bit more seriously this time; Rafe can hear the shift in your tone. You've always hated being anywhere close to the center of attention, getting embarrassed by the smallest things others wouldn’t even think about. If Griffin actually knew anything about you the way Rafe does, he’d know you wouldn’t like something big and flashy. “Can you stop?”

“Hey, cut it out, Top,” Rafe is saying immediately. Topper just rolls his eyes, but Rafe doesn’t care. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Rafe,” you say, smiling over your shoulder at him. “M’fine.”

“Do you want me to tell Griffin to—”

Topper laughs from the driver’s seat, clearing his throat to cover it up when you look over at him. You look back at Rafe, and his heart breaks at the worry in your face. “Don’t, Rafe.”

“Are you gonna say yes?”

“No,” you immediately laugh, looking at him like the idea is preposterous.

“Oh c’mon, Y/n/n. Can’t say no to him in front of all those people,” Topper teases. “And where the fuck is Kelce? I’m starving.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “I don’t wanna embarrass him. I’ll just find him after school today and tell him I’m going with Kelce.”

Topper’s eyes widen, Rafe catches it in the rearview mirror before he hurriedly looks away. Rafe clears his throat, settling back into his seat from where he’d been leaning into the front space to talk with you. “You��uh, are you actually going with Kelce?”

“Yeah,” you nod, distracted by your phone. “We said we’d go together if we didn’t find dates. Kelce didn’t really wanna ask anyone after what happened last summer. And after nearly being set up with Top last night, I’m about ready to throw in the towel.“

Rafe looks to his friend that sits in the driver’s seat, who's looking straight at his lap, the back of his neck bright red. “Wait, you two?”

“It was just our parents, dude. Went to dinner at the club last night and our moms brought it up,” Topper mumbles. You giggle at the idea, completely unaware of the energy in the car right now.

“Yeah, sorry, Thornton. But no thanks. You and Emily should be really cute, though,” you say earnestly, patting his shoulder.

Topper just stares straight ahead. “Thanks, Y/n/n.”

“And then this thing with Griffin—I’m just so over the idea of finding an actual date at this point,” you sigh. “Plus, I know Kelce won’t put up a fight about the color scheme. I’m thinking like, aqua. Or maybe pink? I don't think I'd look good in gold.”

You'll look good in absolutely anything, and Rafe will just have to watch you from across the floor of the Island Club, while Kelce twirls you around the dance floor or holds you close during a slow dance.

The guy in question opens the car door and slides into the backseat next to Rafe right then, sighing as he slides his backpack off. “Sorry guys, coach stopped me in the hall. Where are we eating?”

Rafe glares at him.

“I want a smoothie,” you declare from the front seat.

“Fine with me,” Topper nods, pulling out of his parking spot. “Guys?”

“Can we go to that place with the deli next door? I’m so hungry,” Kelce says.

“Yeah, I like their açaí bowls,” you say, twisting around to look at Rafe one more time. He must not be able to hide his emotions as much as he thought, because your smile drops when you see him. “Rafe? Does that sound good?”

He turns his body to look out the window, eyes flicking back to yours one last time. “Not hungry.”

—

Rafe meets Topper and Kelce at the dock later that night, the three of them intending to get drunk and maybe take Topper’s boat out if they felt like it.

Kelce is already there by the time Rafe pulls up, drinking a beer with Topper while they laugh at something on his phone.

And Rafe paces right down the dock, snatches Kelce’s phone out of his hand, and pushes him off the platform and into the water.

“Rafe, dude,” Topper says, immediately pushing him back by his chest.

“What the fuck?” Kelce sputters, spitting out water as he surfaces and climbs the ladder back up. “What is your fucking problem?”

“You couldn’t ask literally fucking anyone else? It had to be Y/n?” Rafe says, laughing indignantly. He looks down at where Topper is still keeping them separated. “And you—what the fuck—”

“I told you, man. It was just our moms. We didn’t even consider it,” Topper says, rolling his eyes.

“You both lied to me,” Rafe accuses. “Because you knew I’d be mad.”

“And why’s that, Rafe?” Kelce spits, reaching around Topper to try and push at his chest. “Why are you mad? Not like you were gonna ask her.”

“No,” Rafe says immediately. And he isn’t even lying; it’d never crossed his mind as a possibility. Which is why he can’t even begin to try and work out why he’s this upset about it. He didn’t do anything to stop this, but it’s still happening, and it’s making him crazy. “You know my dad’s making me take Reagan since we’re both on prom court.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kelce grumbles. “I was gonna tell you.”

“When?”

“Soon, I just—we made the plan so long ago, bro. Neither of us wanted to worry about dates… but I gave it time because I thought you might—I dunno,” Kelce trails off, shrugging. “I dunno.”

“Thought I might what?”

“Figure your shit out and ask her yourself,” Topper says, coming back from the boathouse with a towel that he passes to Kelce.

“Even if I could, Y/n/n would never say yes to me,” Rafe scoffs, shaking his head and reaching for the six-pack they were working through.

Topper scoffs back. “Oh, yeah ri—”

“Guess we’ll never know,” Kelce says, cutting him off while he dumps the water out of his shoes. He sighs at his soaked clothes before he looks back up at Rafe. “You know I’m not into her right? We’re just going as friends. It’s senior prom.”

“Why would I care what you’re going as?” Rafe says, shifting in discomfort, hand clutching his already-half-empty beer can a little tighter. “None of it even matters.”

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself, bro,” Kelce sighs, grabbing his phone out of Rafe’s hand and pushing past him to go change.

—

“Nice taste, Y/l/n.”

You whirl around from where you’d been adjusting Kelce’s boutonnière (you’d only pricked him twice, which was a personal record for you) at the sound of Rafe’s voice, plastering on a smile before you face him. Your eyes drop to his attire immediately. “Oh shit, Rafe. We match.”

“I know,” he laughs. “My step-mom wants a picture.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in your heels, the tule of your dress suddenly itchy against your legs. “Um. Shouldn’t you take one with Reagan?”

“We already took a million. From every angle. With every possible fucking pose,” Rafe sighs. “C’mon, please? Before the limo comes.”

Rafe grabs your hand and you look back at Kelce who just nods, downing some champagne. “Take care of my date, Cameron.”

You can see Rafe just shake his head where you trail behind him, leading you back to where Rose is talking to one of the other moms. “There you are. Your dress is beautiful! I wish we'd found one like that for Reagan. It looks great with Rafe's tuxedo.”

“Uh, yeah. It's nice to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” you say politely, ignoring the last half of what she said completely. She pulls up her phone and Rafe’s bringing you into his side, his hand resting in the middle of your back.

“This okay?” he murmurs, his breath fanning over your neck as he leans down.

“Yep,” you say quickly, but you can’t help but look around and catch multiple of your friends watching you, including Reagan, who promptly rolls her eyes once you make eye contact with her.

“Y/n, sweetie, just a few pictures for the newsletter,” Rose says, reminding you of your purpose right now.

“Right, sorry,” you say.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers. You look up at him, feeling his hand bring you closer to his body. “Take this a little more seriously, Y/l/n. Don’t you know that the next issue of the Island Club newsletter will be completely ruined without this one specific photo, that will probably be squished into the corner of a terribly- edited collage?”

You laugh in surprise, hitting him on his chest for joking about his step-mom right in front of her. “Rafe. Be nice.”

He just grins down at you, before straightening up and turning back to the camera. “If I’m nice, will you save a dance for me later tonight?”

You’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore, because then he’d see the way your smile faltered before you turn back to the camera as well. “Sure.”

—

“How is my flask empty?” Kelce groans, tipping it over and shaking it out for emphasis.

“That’s what happens when you drink it all, bud,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. He rolls his eyes at you, linking his arm in yours as you both pass through the crowd to find Topper and his date, Emily. You all watch Rafe up on stage, waiting to inevitably be crowned prom king.

He was a shoo-in anyway, but you’d definitely distracted your English teacher with a conversation about the 1984 essay you just turned in while Topper and Kelce stuffed the ballot box he was meant to be guarding.

Rafe seemed like he couldn’t care less about stuff like prom court, just shaking his head when his name was announced over the speaker as a nominee three weeks ago at lunch.

And he’d dragged his feet through finding a date, just shrugging whenever you brought it up to him, prying partially for your own sake.

You couldn’t figure out why he seemed so averse to the entire event, but you supposed that was better than having to hear him go on and on about Reagan and how he asked her and what corsage he bought for her and if he was bringing her to after-prom—or anything else that would’ve dragged up some feelings you thought you’d firmly buried at this point, telling yourself for years that you never stood a chance with Rafe.

But the closer graduation got, the more you’ve been realizing that things with your friends would never be the same. Things with Rafe would never be the same.

“Kildare Academy, your prom king is Rafe Cameron,” the DJ says, snapping you out of your thoughts. Kelce and Topper cheer obnoxiously while you laugh, a little grateful they’re both drunk and distracted—so happy their plan worked (Rafe subtly flips them off behind his back as he’s crowned) that they can’t notice the way your shoulders slump as Rafe leads Reagan, just crowned queen, out to the middle of the dance floor while some Ed Sheeran song starts playing through the speakers. You’d roll your eyes at the terrible music selection if that was what you could focus on.

All you could focus on was wondering if Rafe would even remember that you promised him a dance tonight.

Kelce is dramatically bringing you into his arms as the prom court dance takes place, subtly turning you around so your back faces the stage and the court, smiling as he holds your waist. “C’mon, dance with me.”

—

Rafe’s letting go of Reagan as soon as the song ends and everybody cheers, dashing off to the DJ booth after telling her he’d be back in a bit. She merely shrugged before adjusting her crown and going off to some friends.

“Hey man, can I pull some prom king privilege right now?” he says, leaning in to speak into the guys’ ear. “I have a song request.”

“Playlist is set, approved by the school,” he says dismissively.

“Thought you might say that,” Rafe grumbles, reaching into his breast pocket before he can take the time to wonder if he’s really going to do this—if he’s really going to bribe the DJ to play a song by your favorite band before he goes to cash in on that dance together that you’d promised.

He hands him a crisp hundred.

The DJ sighs, snatching it out of his hand and pocketing it while Rafe smirks in victory. “Alright, what song, country club?”

And then it's practically a race to find you before the Kid Cudi remix currently playing ends. Rafe heads off in the direction where Topper and Kelce had been yelling when he was on stage, evening his pace when he spots you jumping around with Kelce, your dress fanning around you while you laugh, the string lights illuminating your face.

You’re smiling so big that it stops Rafe in his tracks.

Guys had always shown interest in you, and you turned most of them down. Not all of them; Rafe still had to see you with guys who absolutely did not deserve you giving them the time of day, sometimes at parties or maybe at the Club. Rafe could usually lie to himself, write off these feelings as some protectiveness over you, a nice girl who’d been a good friend to him his entire life. Rafe was protective of all the people he held close in his life, why wouldn’t he look out for you, too?

But something must have changed, because now—now Rafe’s looking at you, and he knows time is running out before you both set off on your futures. He has three weeks of school left with you, then a summer of seeing you around. And then... that's it.

And now he’s looking at you, those feelings less and less ignorable with every single second closer Rafe gets to not having you around him every day anymore.

Those feelings are crowding every corner of his mind, finally coming to the surface after all of the drama with prom dates had forced Rafe to wonder why he couldn’t stand you going with Griffin or Topper or Kelce. Couldn’t stand thinking about you ever being with someone that wasn’t him—a reality he knows he’d have to get used to you a lot quicker than it took him to even realize he’d fallen for you.

Because the future’s coming, and maybe in the future you actually end up with someone like Griffin, or Mateo, or that guy from the party that one time, or that touron from New England that your parents tried to set you up with, some hotshot you brought home from California after a semester, or Kelce—even Topper. Your parents would love that one. And one day in this future, you’re running into Rafe on the soccer field; your kids play for the same team together. Rafe ended up settling for someone he could never like half as much as he loved you, and he sees you across the field with a sweater tied around your shoulders, chatting with all of the other moms. The lucky asshole you finally chose just watches you the way Rafe always had, the way he is now as you dance with his best friend, the way Rafe will probably never be able to stop himself from doing.

Or maybe there's another future without you, where you move away to somewhere that suits you; the Outer Banks had never good enough for you, in his mind. Maybe you stay in California after school. And you bring home that hotshot that’s perfectly matched for you, who gets to hold you and kiss you and have you. Rafe only gets to see you every once in a while, when you decide to grace the Outer Banks with your presence for the holidays or for Midsummers. Maybe in this scenario, Rafe was never able to find someone else, maybe he shows up solo while you flash your engagement ring when the old crew gets together for drinks—no, you wouldn’t do that. You’d be absolutely smitten with whoever won your heart, showing the ring he got you to your girl friends with an embarrassed little smile pulling at your lips while they all gush over it. And maybe one of your friends jokes about how Rafe used to have a crush on you. You'll just laugh and shrug it off, nodding—because you knew all along. Of course you knew, everyone had to know at this point. And Rafe can picture you merely laughing at his feelings for you as the other guy gets to pull you closer on his lap.

The opening chords of your song snap him out of his reverie. He can see the exact moment you realize what song it is.

Rafe beelines for you, holding his hand out as soon as he’s in your vicinity, fully pretending he hadn’t just realized he’s fallen for one of his closest friends in the middle of prom. Like he hadn't realized that he wasn't just into you, didn't just think you were cute or like the way you made him feel when you remembered his stats tests or wore his shirt to his water polo games. Like he hadn't just realized that no matter how many times he'd told himself it didn't bother him that much that you'd never come close to giving him the time of day, that he'd never forget what it felt like to not even be on your radar.

“You promised me a dance, Y/n.”

You look at him and his outstretched hand and smile, then look back to Kelce, who's quickly letting you out of his arms, casting an accusatory glance at Rafe. But then he smiles a little. “I'm gonna hit the restrooms.”

“Too bad our one dance is gonna be to a song by a band you hate,” you laugh, accepting Rafe's hand. Rafe’s on autopilot, his hands resting on your lower back while yours move to his chest, swaying the two of you in little circles. The song is already through with the first verse.

“I don’t hate this band,” he lies. But maybe it’s not a lie—how could he hate anything you loved?

“Okay, prom king,” you laugh, fiddling with his pocket square a little, the one that matches your dress. “Still can’t believe we ended up matching.”

“Great minds, Y/l/n,” he shrugs, eyes trained on your face. Your hands slip up around his shoulders, and you nudge the plastic crown on his head before leaving your arms to rest there, fingers locked behind his neck. Rafe pulls you closer. The second chorus was already starting up. Time was running out.

“I’m not sure what the optics are of our matching and you leaving the prom queen to come dance with your friend,” you say, your small smile turning into a frown. “Reagan already seemed pissed earlier.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Rafe says. “It’s just you and me right now.”

“When we go off to college, I think I might just miss you, Cameron,” you say, smiling.

And Rafe might not ever get to tell you how he feels, or ever be with you the way he wants to, but at least he got to dance with you at his senior prom.

“I know I'm gonna miss you.”

—

@moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids @fangirlvoice @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @pogueslandia @loveylangdon @oopsiedoopsie23 @sodasback @rafeseggplant @cooper8224 @rafeyybabyy @lemur46 @cameronsrafe @theepoguelandia @judayyyw @irlpadfoot @synonymforlame @tinawhynot @mildkleptomaniac @ilymarkchan @sofiatheseconf @hockeyshmockey @supersouthy @coffeeandcrimeshows @emptyloverofmine @infinitleyethereal @nerdypartytrashpsychic @mrs-cameron @tcmhollnd @nicavass @sakikos @catonthesideoftheroad @jemimah-b99 @serrendipiity @depressinq @svechnibrock @julianakawaja @ctrlcherries @lostaurorax @wildflower98 @babygirl2022 @lieswithoutfairytales @painlesslies @messagesinthesky @orrsoared @destourtereaux @sammywilscn @tylernagle @anonymousobxfan @lilacsandwhiskey @raphaelcameron @mardema @princesspogue @alwaysclassyeagle @brittlehe-art @drewswrld

[gashinabts]

Ask Me Out (m)

Words: 5k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, Idiots to lovers

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mature

Summary: You and Taehyung get in a fight because you were allegedly cheating, the only problem is, who are you dating and who are you cheating on.

Warnings: Teasing, spitting, oral (f/receiving), fingering, DomTae, slapping, jealously sex

A/N: Just a small one shot, hope you enjoy!! This is my work no reposting this and my other works on any other platforms.

Holding the letter tight to your chest you breathe out a heavy sigh before giving the letter to Eunha. Taehyung texted her that he will meet with her across the administration building, instead here you are standing in front of her, counting the seconds of when this interaction will end. She opens the letter and you cringe at every second she reads it, you look off at a distance to see if Taehyung could be watching this scene unfold. “ What the hell is this Y/N? Where’s Taehyung?,” she crumbles the letter and there’s irritation evident on her angelic face.

The one con of being Taehyung’s friend is that you have to break up with his girlfriends since he doesn’t like confrontation, to see them yell at him or worst cry in front of them.

In middle school Taehyung told you to break up with Soojin for him on Valentine's day, that was the first time you got bitch slapped by someone at school. Taehyung went to visit you at the nurse office with a red rose. “ Where did you get that?,” you asked him as you pressed the ice pack closer to your cheek. “ I stole it from Jungkook’s valentine’s gift,” he says, as he hands you the rose and sits next to you. His hands gently take off the ice pack inspecting your pink slap mark. “ Ouch. This will be the last time I let you do this for me,” he gives you a boxy smile. Another con of being his friend, Taehyung could be quite the liar.

“ Well as it says on the letter, he wants to break up with you…” you trail off taking a centimeter back. You don’t think she’ll do anything crazy, Eunha was nice when she was with Taehyung, however break ups can change a person.

Eunha takes a step closer and takes the lid of her ice coffee and throws it on your sweatshirt. The cup is empty and the ice cold coffee makes you flinch, “ I knew you guys were sleeping behind my back. Tell him, ‘ The next time he wants to break up with someone, he should be a man and tell them in person,’” she bumps her shoulder against you hard as she walks past you. You groan at her comment and walk towards the center of the campus where the water fountain is, there are students who briefly look at your coffee stain white sweatshirt. “ Well she got you good?,” Taehyung bites his lip and you glare at him. He stands tall right next to you, with his neutral tone baggy pants and sweatshirt.  “ Hey I’m sorry I didn’t know she’ll react that way. Take my sweater,” he pulls his already oversized sweater and hands it to you.

You pull off your soaked sweater, “ That’s what you always say Tae,” then you put on his ugly dark green sweater. “ When are you ever going to have the guts to ask the girls you like out and also break up with them?” There’s also another thing he has a problem with, he needs to have someone, you, to ask the girls he likes out. It’s always awkward for you to tell them that Taehyung, the guy that you have a slight crush on, likes them.

“ Y/N, I can’t do that! Just imagine if I ask someone out and they straight out reject me. I would be traumatized for my whole life,” he takes your dirty sweater and walks with you to the apartment.

“ Nope. I can’t possibly see that. You are attractive and funny so I don’t see how you’ll be rejected,” you smell yourself and groan at the scent of ice americano. “ Look, ask me out right now,” you joke around while laughing to yourself. The short laugh becomes a gasp when Taehyung pushes you against a wall with his arm caging you in. His face is close to yours, you could almost count all the long dark eyelashes. Time feels like it slows down because the wind started to lessen along with chirping sounds from the birds.

“ Y/N. Go out with me,” he looks at you dead in the eye, his black curls slightly cover them. Without thinking much you let out a small okay and he backs up giving you space.

His face returns back to his bubbly self smiling, “ Do you want to order fried chicken and beer or pizza?,” he asked you while adjusting the straps of his backpack. The question takes you back and you pinch yourself just to see if this is a dream or an alternative universel. “ Fried chicken and beer,” you tell him, walking alongside him. There is silence between you two as he orders the food on his phone, he gives you the phone so you can review the order, you smile as he orders an extra order of spicy chicken since you are the only one that likes it. “ Looks good,” you say while handing it back.

You and Taehyung are watching a movie while eating the fried chicken peacefully until Jungkook barges in the living room from the front door, “ BAHAHA...Y/N you’re like all over everyone's snapchat. I even saw this video on my fyp on tiktok. Look it almost has one million likes,” he hands his phone while sitting down on the couch. ‘It’s the cheating for me’ you groan as you read the description. “ What the hell? Did you at least comment and tell them that I wasn’t the other woman?,” you ask Jungkook, the video plays and Eunha throws the coffee at you and your face grimaces.

“Yeah but like my comment got lost through the thousands of comments that are there,” he grabs a beer from the table, “ just live through your fifteen minutes of fame,” he chugs the beer. “ Ohh spicy chicken, my favorite,” his hands grab your chicken eating it with gusto.

You toss the phone on the couch, “ Y/N-” you ignore Taehyung’s voice as you go to your room. You take solace in your warm comforter hugging your stuffed penguin and taking a nap. The feeling of Taehyung’s warm hands wakes you up, he’s spooning you, hugging you tightly against his chest. You are used to Taehyung's skin ship at home, he typically does this when he sees a scary movie and has nightmares so he crawls into your bed or when the apartment is too cold and he doesn’t want to spend money on the heater. “ Are you okay?,” he asked carefully.

“ Yeah, I just hate how people don’t know the real story but it’s whatever I have you to make me feel better,” you sigh as you hug your penguin tighter.

He laughs and grabs the stuffed animal, “ You still have this raggedy thing?”

“ I’m not gonna throw him away. It was a present,” you take it back in your arms. Yeah, it looks beaten down but it was something special you cherished.

“ Man, I still can’t believe you dated Jungkook in high school. Doesn’t it feel weird to have that since you guys are not dating?,” he hugs you closer to him, you feel his warm breath against your neck.

“ Nah, we are still good friends even if he is kind of an asshole,” one of your hands reaches back raking your fingers against his curls. He hums deeply, “ Are you jealous of Mr. Penguin?,” you teased him with the question.

“ Kind of,” he mutters and snuggles into your hair. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting but you ignore it going back to sleep.

---

You grab an ice coffee for Taehyung and add sugar but a light tap halts you, turning you see a girl holding a phone zooming onto your face, “ Is this you?,” she asked you, eyes peering for a reaction. It was that stupid video from tiktok.

You laugh lightly, “ No, that is my twin,” you lie eaisly, you ignore her calls as you continue walking. You wait outside Taehyung’s office since he is talking to one of his students. The student adorably bows multiple times and thanks him, as she exits his room. “ She’s cute,” you comment as you enter his office with his coffee. He has his glasses on, along with his usual comfy aesthetic, there are a bunch of papers on the desk, and he looks the part as professor but clearly isn’t because he is a TA.

“ You are cute,” his large hand holds your hand giving it a quick kiss, while grabbing the coffee with his other hand and starts to gulp it. Today you were far from cute, you had no makeup, and you feel bloated because you were on your period.  “ There’s an essay due about the elements of Gothic architecture and she was having a hard time about what to write,” he moves his hand as he talks, he finally sits down on his desk.

“ That sounds fun,” you sarcastically state. Sitting down on the chair you look on his desk and there’s a picture of you and him at the Louvre, it was two years ago that you guys spontaneously took a trip to Paris.

“ Sorry you aren’t a fan of art history,” he nudges you with his leg, “ Anyways let’s go to this new hotpot restaurant,” he gets up putting his laptop away along with his papers. “ Should we invite Jungkook?,” you asked while putting your seatbelt on in Taehyung's car.

“ No. It’s Y/N and Taehyung time,” he firmly states but his sparkly teeth show as he smiles.

---

“ You guys look closer than ever, which is weird because how can you guys possibly get closer,” Jungkook comments as you wash the dishes. It’s obvious that he is talking about Taehyung. Taehyung had been more clingy with you, almost every night sleeping in your bed and taking you to random restaurants without Jungkook.

“ What do you mean? We are always like that, you are just jealous that we don’t take you out anymore and pay for you,” you finish washing the last plate, you put the gloves away to dry. Jungkook crosses his arms which cause his biceps to bulge and you throw your head back with a laugh, “ Is that supposed to intimidate me?,” you lean against the counter.

He walks closer, “ Kinda, I’ve been working out,” he flexes it more. You roll your eyes and he stands right in front of you, “ So friends just invade other people’s personal space?,” his face comes closer to you, making eye contact with you. He’s provoking you and you just want to slap his smirk off his face. Jungkook lays his head against your neck, rubbing his nose against your neck, his body is against yours. “ This kind of reminds me of our first time, we did it in my parent’s kitchen when they weren’t home,” his hands gripped your waist.

You decided to play at his game, your hands reach his nape pulling his hair, “ But then you came the minute you put it in,” you whisper against his ear. You laugh as his face flush with embarrassment, you push him against his chest so he can give you space.

“ C’mon Y/N that wasn’t nice,” he groans, he tugs his situation in his grey sweatpants to not make it obvious that he has a boner. You stop laughing when you see Taehyung standing near the entrance of the kitchen, he has a blank face and goes to the fridge. Jungkook turned around looking at Taehyung as he quietly grabbed a coke, “ Hey Hyung, have you eaten? Y/N made dinner.”

Taehyung looks at Jungkook, “ I’m good,” he doesn’t even acknowledge you, walking away from the kitchen and you hear his door shut.

It’s quiet as you eat dinner alone and it is even quieter when you go to sleep by yourself. The bed feels more bigger and you might think it’s more comfortable but it’s not since you don’t have Taehyung hugging you like a pillow. The next morning you wake up late, Taehyung usually wakes you up and cooks you burnt toast with a shitload of jam but this time he’s already gone.

After class, you get his favorite coffee drink, and go to his office, there is another cute student talking to him. You peer through the window and see how happily he exchanges words with her. You wait until their session is done and she thanks him and he waves goodbye, you walk into his office. He looks at you but quickly reverts his gaze back at his laptop screen typing mindlessly. Placing the coffee on his desk, “ She’s cute,” you comment.

“ Yeah,” he says and continues typing, your heart lurches not expecting him to agree with you. There’s so much tension you feel like you are walking on eggshells.

“ Umm...are you okay?,” you ask timidly. You aren’t sure if he heard you since a minute goes by and he looks through his paper and then again types. There is sweat coming off your hands and wipe them down against your jeans,“ Taehyung?,” you speak just a decibel louder.

He closes his laptop, packing up his papers, throwing them harpazidly in his backpack, throwing the ice coffee that he hasn’t even got a sip of into the trash. “ I’m meeting with someone,” he brushes past you trying to exit his office. You grab his wrist before he can leave, “ Tae, are you mad at me?,” is the only question you can think of.

This is the first time he looks at you, it’s the first time he has ever shown anger at you, he yanks his hand back to himself and the feeling of the subtle warmth is gone from the palms of your hand. “ I just didn’t think you were the type of girl to cheat and try to fuck their ex in the kitchen,” he says seriously.

Cheating? Who were you cheating on? “ I wasn’t- Jungkook and I-,” you try to explain yourself but he wasn’t hearing any of it. He interrupts you, “ I don’t care anymore...I don’t want to see your face,” he jabs at you with a disgusted face one last time before leaving. There’s tears coming out and you quickly wipe them but they still stream down your cheeks. This is the first time in your friendship that you had a fight with Taehyung and it looks like it will be the last time you grab the tissue of his desk blowing your nose. The picture of you and Taehyung gleefully smiling in Paris is mocking you, you grab the picture and take it with you before he can also throw it away as easily as he did with the ice coffee.

You usually don’t like going to your parent’s house but this time you accept their invitation, planning to stay with them for a week, you already submitted all the assignments for classes and you could always look at the podcast lectures. There’s not much clothes you have to pack up since you hardly buy any new clothes and you usually borrow Taehyung's infinite amount of clothes, well used to. “ I’ll see you in a week,” you hug Jungkook goodbye.

“ Make sure you get some rest,” he walks you to the car, you nod and smile at him, waving him goodbye.

This is the last time you will ever visit your family, they make you do chores and take care of your nephews and nieces. It doesn’t even feel like you got any rest, you found a box under your bed and it’s filled with pictures of you and Taehyung, some of Jungkook but mostly of Taehyung. The more you shuffle through the pictures it gets harder to hold your tears. You have the urge to call him but you are afraid that he has you blocked.

---

It feels and sounds quiet in the apartment, Taehyung thinks to himself. Jungkook isn’t even making noise either which is odd since he is loud. He hasn’t seen you in three days, he was sure that he was going to eventually bump into around the house while you cook or get out of the shower but nothing, he hasn’t even seen light peek out of your door. He hears the door opening expecting it was you but it was Jungkook. Jungkook goes straight to the kitchen taking out a pan and vegetables out of the fridge, “ You want some Kimchi fried rice?,” Jungkook asks as he cuts some kimchi.

“ No,” Taehyung shakes his head and scrolls down on his instagram.

Jungkook sighs loudly, “ Wow this is going to suck. I have to start learning how to cook better since Y/N moved out.”

Taehyung drops his phone on the ground, “ What?,” he asked while walking towards the kitchen to where Jungkook is at.

Jungkook puts oil in the pan and adds onions, “ Yeah she moved out three days ago. She looked really sad, took everything she had and left.” Taehyung doesn’t believe him and enters her room, the bed looks empty, there are no comforters or pillows, he opens your drawers and is met with nothing, there are some skincare products on the table but those can easily be left behind. However there are pictures of you and Taehyung on the dresser, and he easily spots the one that he kept in his office. He walks back out and Jungkook looks like he is almost done cooking. “ You could be a real asshole Taehyung. Y/N would never do anything with me since she already whipped for you. The things you make her do and how she always does it because your Taehyung,” Jungkook says and finally turns off the stove.

“ What are talking about?,” Taehyung asked with hesitance.

“ Ask Y/N, why does she break up with people for you despite the many times she gets hurt from it. Ask her why does she spend so much money on your dumb ice americano? Ask her why she broke up with me in high school?,” Jungkook didn’t mean for the last question to come out but he’s tired of his two best friends being idiots. “ I’m going to eat in my room,” he leaves with a plate of Kimchi fried rice.

Taehyung sits in silence in his room thinking about your last conversation with him, and how he didn’t let you explain. How he yelled at you, how he threw his coffee, and how you looked like you wanted to cry. He hugged his pillow tightly desperately wishing that it was you and maybe if he thought hard enough you would appear.

---

“ Are you sure you don’t want to stay the whole week?,” your Mom asked while she helped you put your suitcase in your car. It’s the fourth day, six in the morning, and you don’t think you can last another day with her yelling at you to stop taking naps and to go grocery shopping with her.

Getting in your small car you sigh,“ Yeah, I have to go back. I forgot to turn something in for class,” you make up a lie.

“ What? Are you serious? Why didn’t you do that before when you came here, that’s very irresponsible-” Maybe on another day you can take her lecturing but not today.

“ Okay, bye Mom. Love you!,” you close your door waving at her as you leave the driveway.

It is expected for the apartment to be quiet since it’s early in the morning, you drag the suitcase quietly hoping that you won’t wake them up. Opening the door slowly, you are shocked to see a sleeping figure in your bed, your hand let’s go of the suitcase and you yelp trying to get it but it comes down crashing loudly on the wooden floor. Taehyung's head pops up from his small blanket, looking at you with wide eyes. “ I umm- I’m sorry. I’ll leave right now,” you pathetically try to excuse yourself. Taehyung said he didn’t want to see your face anymore so you hurry to pick up your things. Your shaky hands try to grab your suitcase but you are tackled into a hug, Taehyung’s arms engulf you trying to make you part of his body.

“ You came...I was scared that you were gone forever,” he whispers. “ I’m sorry for what I said. I was an asshole and didn’t let you speak. I hurt you in many ways that I never expected. Then Jungkook said you moved out…” he trailed off you couldn’t clearly hear him since his voice muffled in your hair.

“ Taehyung, let’s sit down and talk, okay?,” you asked him and brushed some of the strands of hair out of his face. He nods and sits down beside you and your bed, “ I wasn’t going to move out, I just went to visit my parents hoping that would relax me but it didn’t so I came back early,” you smile at him. “ Okay good,” he smiles back and scoots closer to you. “ Taehyung, I need to ask you something?,” you look away nervously.

“ Ask me,” he encourages and grabs your chin to look at you.

You swallow nervously, “ Are we together? I mean were we together? Since you said I cheated on you and I was kind of confused…” you trail off playing with your fingers.

He grabs your hands gently squeezing them “ Of course we were together. I mean we still are. Remember when you told me to ask you out?,” he asked, you nodded remembering it vividly, “ Well since that day we’ve been dating.” You didn’t think that was serious but it did make sense because of all the skinship he was doing and the places he would take out to eat. He did take you to the Han river and had a picnic during the night which you found oddly romantic but you didn’t think much into it.  “ Y/N, I’m sorry,”  he asked, kissing your hands.

“ It’s okay there was a misunderstanding. Next time, let’s talk before we act out on our emotions,” you tell him softly, before pecking him on his cheek. Turning quickly away so he won’t see you blushing in the morning sun.  “ Help me set up comforters,” you get up, grabbing the comforters off the floor. He helps you set it up while complaining about how he missed you while you were gone, crying in your bed until Jungkook told him to shut up. You place Mr. Penguin on the bed and lay down hugging it.

Taehyung turns your body easily around so you're facing him, “ I actually didn’t know we were dating, I thought we were joking around,” your hand caresses his sharp jawline.

“ Idiot. I would never joke around about dating you,” he scoffs and takes the hand you were caressing him with, bringing it to his lips, kissing it softly.  His lips move to your wrist, trailing up your forearm, arising goosebumps and leaving a giggly response from you, making him smile. Taehyung scoots closer to your neck so he can leave kisses there and you hug him closer when he kisses a particular spot that makes you squirm. The kisses trail upwards to your jaw, going closer to the area you wanted. He looks at you seeking permission and you pull him to feel your lips against his. It’s soft as you expected and you sigh happily at the feeling of his warmth. He pulls aways looking at you, “ That was nice,” he says as he moves over to hover you.

“ Yeah, it was,” you pull him down for another kiss, this time it’s more needier. Lips smacking at each other can be heard along with some heavy breathing. Your hands leave his tousled hair and go under his baggy sleeping shirt, feeling his naked back. You never thought you could feel Taehyung this way, but here are lightly trailing your fingers up and down his back. His mouth leaves yours kissing your neck and leaving marks here and there, he pulls the collar of your shirt down trying to get more access but gets frustrated. Laughing at him, you pull your shirt off, laying back down so he can kiss wherever he desires. His eyes sparkle at the sight of the swell of your breast, immediately leaving open mouth kisses that make you shudder with excitement. His large hands pull the cups of bra and his mouth envelopes your nipple, sucking while his other fondles with your other breast. Your pants are being louder and you can’t take anymore of the teasing. Your hands pull his hair as he lightly bites your nipple leaving you with pleasure and pain, “ Touch me Taehyung,” moaning at the end of the sentence.

“ Baby, I am touching you,” his lips leave your abused nipple and go to the other one giving it the same treatment. It looks like he enjoys you getting impatient since he is smiling at your frustration as you try to grind against him. “ No no no, touch me somewhere else,” you tell him shyly, you are never this coy with your partners but Taehyung just screams out dominance. His eyes darken and his mouth leave your nipple along with a string of salvia, his hand wipes his spit all over your chest. He sits up pulling off his shirt, his eyebrow arched, “ Where does my baby want to be touched?,” he asked, looking down on you. Your hand trails down to the button of your jeans, slightly tugging at it, refusing to tell him in words. His index finger tugs at the belt loop, “ You want me to touch your pussy?” Blushing at his words you nod, he takes off your jeans and looks at your panties, smirking at your evident arousal. He bends down and kisses above the hem of your panties before tugging them down your legs.

“ Please Tae,” you whine as he teasingly kisses the inside of your thighs, Taehyung finally listens to your words and eats you out like his favorite dessert, his hands holding your thighs up trying to taste more of you. Crying out in pleasure, as his tongue pays special attention to your clit and his two fingers slowly inched his way into your seeping hole. Afraid that you are making too much noise, you moan into your palm, his head lifts up and you whine at the loss of his tongue. �� Who told you you can cover your pretty mouth?,” Taehyung slaps your cunt, making you moan louder.  “ Sorry,” you meekly let out but you desperately want to be punished again. He chuckles at your apology, rubbing your cunt to soothe the pain, “ Do you want me to fuck this needy pussy?”

“ Yes, I want you so bad,” you drawl at your words, hips rising and riding his long fingers. His fingers withdraw from you, quickly taking off his sweats and boxers, as you finally discard your bra. “ Spit,” he commands, his hand is below your mouth. Following his command, his large hand wraps around his impressive dick and you can’t wait for it to stretch you. Reaching to your drawer, you give him a condom and he puts it on. Taehyung slowly enters you and you feel an immediate stretch, your nails scratch his back at the slight pain. He kisses you to relax you and smile at his encouraging words. Moaning at the slow thrusting, the pain is completely gone, wanting to feel him deeper you tell him to fuck you harder. His hips move at fast pace and you can feel him in your stomach, “ You’re so fucking tight, I’m gonna have to fuck you everyday,” he moans out. “ Gonna have to fuck you everywhere too, so Jungkook can no longer flirt with you,” he thrust deeper hitting that particular spot that makes your toes curl. Nodding deliriously you meet his thrust, eyes rolling back at the euphoric feeling of Taehyung fucking you good. Moaning his name louder, as he grabs your jaw forcing you to look at him, “ I’m the only one that makes you feel this good, right?,” he asked but he already knows the answer.

“ Only you, only Taehyung,” you scream out feeling his other hand rubbing your clit. “ No one else,” you confirm once more, pulling him down for a messy kiss. Your approach is coming, clenching around him harder, “ I’m gonna cum,” you claw his back more, “ Can I please cum?,” begging him.

Rubbing your clit faster, “ Yeah, fucking cum for me, scream out my name,” he gives your clit you couple smacks. Crying out his name you come loudly with your body shaking in pleasure. Taehyung's pace falters, groaning at your tight cunt swallowing him in, holding your body closer as he orgasms. Kissing you softly Taehyung pulls out, tossing the condom in the trash bin. “ How’s my baby?,” he asked while stroking your flush cheeks.

“ Good but kinda tired,” giving him a tired smile. “ Taehyung I like you so much,” you confess, holding his warm hand against your cheek. High school you would be so proud that you finally confessed to him.

Taehyung grabs your hand and kisses it, “ I like you so much more. I liked you since high school but I was afraid to tell you and then you started dating Jungkook. So I thought I can never be your type. But then you told me to ask you out, joke or not, I thought that was finally my chance to have you be my girl,” he softly speaks but there’s an underlying insecurity in voice. Your hands pull him close to your body causing him to squeal, his head is on top of your breast listening to your heartbeat, as one of your hands comb his hair.

“ I guess we are both idiots, I liked you since high school too. But here we are now in each other's arms, better late than never right?,” you sigh. His fingers trace shapes your stomach, “ Just gotta make up for the lost time,” he agrees and his hand trails down.

“ Yes but not now because I’m tired,” you grab his hand before it can go any further. He laughs and kisses your breast tenderly.

“ I’m just glad that Mr. Penguin got to see me fuck my girl,” he snuggles more into you with heavy eyelids.

You sleepy smile at his words, “ You are so weird.”

——————————————————————————

Do not repost, translate, or alternate my work in any way, onto any platform. I do not take plagiarism lightly.

[mercy-burning]

Pretty Please (Reprise)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: About a year has passed since Reader and Spencer got together, and they spend the day celebrating. PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE Category: Fluff, mostly Smut 18+ (dom!Spencer, fingering, slight exhibitionism, car sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex- creampie, slight degradation) Warnings: Sex, language. As always, if there’s anything I missed, please let me know what I should include in warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you! Word Count: 1.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all so much for reading this series! It turned into something I wasn’t really expecting, and I’m very glad you all have enjoyed it, because it’s really pushed me to keep writing. Thank you!!! I hope you enjoy this short little spicy epilogue 🥰

***

She knew she was going to be in for it later, but she didn't care. Messing with him was too much fun. Not to mention when he finally got her alone and had his way with her, she would be more than satisfied.

"Y/N, stop it," Spencer said lowly in her ear.

Her hand remained on its course as she smirked, and he sighed, irritated. When she circled the tip of his dick through his pants, keeping her eyes focused on the scene in front of her, he grabbed it, lacing his fingers through hers and setting their entwined hands on her knee.

She pouted, but smiled right after, then turned her attention to the screen.

Spencer and Y/N were coming up on one whole year of being together, and though she just wanted to spend the day inside, he insisted on taking her out. They went out for breakfast, then to the park, and now they were at the movie theater. She tried to enjoy every second, and though deep down she really did—she always enjoyed being with him regardless of what they were doing—she was desperate for him. He'd been away on a case for almost a week and a half, and now that he was home she was feeling particularly... needy.

She hardly paid attention to the movie, her thoughts clouded by images and memories of their first excursion together. She replayed it over and over in her head, the wanting look in his eyes as she sank to her knees and pleaded for him to let her make up for the fact that she'd invaded his privacy. "Pretty please," she'd begged, and since then she always remembered how beautiful he looked in that moment. She never forgot it, and never would in a million years.

If there weren't any other people in the theater, she would have been bolder, maybe even so bold as to re-create that moment right there. Though, as hot as sex in public had proved to be on occasion, she'd come to learn that Spencer was not a fan of germs, and she knew ultimately that even if there weren't any people in the theater, he wouldn't have let her get on the floor to do what she wanted anyway.

They were sitting in the back row, though, and the only other people in the room was a family of four down in the middle. So Y/N wanted to take another risk.

He eventually untangled his fingers from hers once he trusted her to not make any moves, and she took that as her opening. She waited about fifteen minutes, and then reached under her skirt, inconspicuously hooking her fingers through the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her legs as her eyes stayed glued to the screen. She felt Spencer's hand grip her knee in warning, but she didn't care. As she reached for her cup and took a drink from her soda, her other hand dropped her panties in his lap.

That was all she was going to do, and she should have known he'd make this hard on her, but alas, when his hand slid up from her knee and rested at her inner thigh, his pinkie finger reaching over and resting just above her clit, she almost choked on her soda.

"You asked for it," he leaned over and whispered lowly in her ear, pressing a soft kiss to her neck before pulling back. His hand stayed where it was for just a few minutes before he shifted, wasting no time plunging his middle and ring fingers inside her. Y/N bit her lip to stifle a moan, while also clutching the armrests of the seat for dear life as his fingers pumped in and out slowly.

As the movie played in front of them, Spencer brought her to the edge three times, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean as she fought the urge to beg him to let her cum, right before going back in each time. It was torture, but she did, in fact, sign up for it.

When it was obvious that the movie was ending, he picked up his pace and curled his fingers in just the right way, and she almost yelped. He leaned into her one last time, and said, "You're going to cum on my fingers, and then you're going to clean them, got it? Be fast."

That was all she needed to finish, and she came as quietly as she could, her legs clenching around his hand and her eyes squeezing shut as she tried not to call out. When he felt her legs loosen around him, he slid his fingers up through her pussy and circled her clit a few times, making her jolt forward, before pulling away and quietly bringing his fingers to her mouth. She happily took them, sucking them as quickly and quietly as she could. She let out a soft groan as he pulled them out, but then stifled a louder one as he ran his fingers through her again, gathering more of her arousal. She cleaned them off once more before the credits started to roll, and then he stood up, bringing her with him.

As the family ahead of them walked up the aisles and out of the door, Spencer shoved her panties in his pocket and ushered themselves out behind them.

He didn't say a word the whole walk to the car. And even when they started driving, he said nothing.

"Hey," Y/N started nervously as he pulled out of the parking lot. "I... I hope I didn't make you do something you were uncomfortable with. I was onl— wait, where are we going? I thought you said after the movie we'd go home?"

Spencer gave a knowing smile as he drove down an empty alley. "That was before you decided to act like a needy little whore in public. I was going to wait until we got home and be gentle with you, but now I have some other ideas."

She tried to hide a grin, already growing excited and wondering what he was going to do to her.

He parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt before scooting the seat all the way back and moving to undo his belt. "You're going to ride me until I finish, and maybe if you're lucky you'll get to cum. Get over here." His voice was desperate, and Y/N could tell that his primary goal was to get off, it didn't matter if she did as well or not. But they'd been in that position before, and she knew that even if she didn't orgasm now, when they got home he would give her whatever she wanted. He always did.

Spencer removed his dick from his pants as she climbed over him, her skirt fanning out over them. Without warning he gripped her hips and brought her down on top of him, and she gasped as his hips lifted to meet hers. He did this a few more times before stilling and willing her to move on her own accord. She set a steady pace bouncing on him as her hands gripped his shoulders. His hands, in turn, slipped under her skirt and gripped her ass, his fingernails digging in as harshly as they could. It spurred her to move faster, and he leaned his head back with a groan. "Shit, pretty girl, just like that..."

He lifted his hips then, just a little so he could hit inside her deeper as she came down, and she cried out. She could feel him getting closer, and she knew just what would do the trick.  "Fuck, baby, cum inside me, please! Give it to me," she breathed, high-pitched and close to the edge herself.

Sure enough, his cock pulsated inside her and in no time he was filling her up, groaning out her name as it happened. She kept going, though, chasing her own release that was just on the surface, almost about to break through the water. But Spencer pulled her off of him and she whined, feeling his cum start to leak out a little.

"Please, Spencer, I was so close... Please..."

As she hovered over him, her legs barely holding herself up, he gripped her chin in his right hand and looked her in the eye. "I don't know... You were being a pretty bad girl at the theater."

"I know, and I'm so, so sorry..."

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before biting it, pausing for a moment and then cocking his head and using his free hand to run up her inner thigh. "Beg for it."

"Spencer, please," she whined, leaning into his touch. "I'm sorry, please, just let me cum, I promise I'll be good."

It apparently wasn't to his satisfaction, because he continued tracing patterns along her inner thigh as his cum dripped down it. His eyes searched hers, silently telling her what she needed to say to get what she wanted.

She almost smiled as she said it, dropping her voice to a seductive plea. "Pretty please..."

He smirked, sliding his fingers inside her. "That's my girl."

He fucked his cum back into her with his fingers, curling them and feeling her tighten around him as she got closer. "Fuck, thank you, thank you, ohh..."she trailed off, shutting her eyes and going blind with pleasure. Soon enough she was crying out as she peaked, her fingernails no doubt leaving marks in Spencer's shoulders, even through the fabric of his shirt.

When she caught her breath and loosened her grip on him, he removed his fingers from her and brought them to his mouth, doing his best to get rid of most of the mess. But then, as if he'd had an epiphany, Y/N watched as he pulled his panties from his pocket and used them to clean up between her legs and what little had made its way onto his pants and the seat of the car beneath them.

"You know I put napkins in the glovebox, right?" she laughed as she got off his lap and sat down in her own seat. She grabbed one of them and opened it to bunch her panties in, finally setting it in her lap as Spencer readjusted himself.

"Yeah, but that was more fun anyway," he replied matter-of-factly, and it made her smile.

"Hey, before we go home can we stop for a burger? Car sex makes me crave fast food."

As he started the car and turned on the radio, the familiar tune of Love Song by Tesla picking up where it left off on the mix CD she'd made him for their anniversary, he leaned over to kiss her cheek sweetly. "Anything for you, pretty girl."

[lueurjun]

𝖱𝖮𝖠𝖣 𝖳𝖮 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖤. 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗒𝗎𝗇

“=⌕ sim jaeyun x gn!reader. 

⌗ SUMMARY — becoming a tiktoker was never apart of the plan, but here you are, 4 million followers and a love for pranking your boyfriend. 

. . ⇢ LUEURJUN’S NOTES — this is supposed to be gender neutral but if i slipped up at any point then i do sincerely apologise. this probably won’t be written the best, i was kinda sick and had a moment of inspiration. this is super fluffy and cheesy, so brace yourself. 

₊❏❜ WARNING ⋮ uh tears of joy?? i guess.

2021 @lueurjun.

i. 

THE 30TH APRIL 2020 was the day that your life changed in ways that you used to believe only happened in movies. 

Honestly, setting up your phone and telling your devilishly handsome, yet so pure, so innocent boyfriend that you wanted to have a child—whether that be adoption plans or getting pregnant—it was a small prank you decided to pull and film for your group chat. You never had any intentions of uploading it onto the internet, until Jay, one of your closest friends, suggested that you posted it to Tiktok. 

Jake was cool with it, having not expected it to blow up as much as it did. Nobody had expected for you to get over 2 million views and over 600k likes on your first video. Nor did you expect the heaps of requests in your comment section of different pranks to pull on your boyfriend. And that’s where it began. 

That one video was a rabbit hole into what quickly became your career. 

Now, with over 4 million followers, you have created your own little fan base, who have grown to love you, your boyfriend and even your friends that occasionally end up in your videos.

ii. 

The light in the kitchen flickered once as you set up your phone against a bunch of cookbooks that your parents had yet to read. Mentally, you made a note to ask one of your family members to change the bulb when they returned home. Focusing on your phone, which was now recording, you put your thumbs up and turned towards the door.

“JAEYUN!” Your voice echoed through the quiet home, bouncing off every wall until it met your boyfriend’s ears. Brief shuffling could be heard followed by the padding of feet across the floor boards. He was only in the next room, so it didn’t take long for him to appear right before your eyes. 

The first thing your eyes set on was the crinkles in his shirt, suggesting that he had been laying down. His dark hair was hidden beneath a black hat, which he had placed on his head backwards. He was dressed so simple, but you still managed to fall in love once again at the sight of him. You often wondered how you had managed to bag someone like Jake, he was the epitome of perfection and you couldn’t really see why he would want to be with you. Jake never let these thoughts ponder in your mind for too long, since he was always quick to prove to you that you’re everything to him. 

Secretly eyeing the camera, you put on a pout and fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Immediately, the alarm bells go off in Jake’s mind. You’re never normally this quiet and it’s rare to see you pout. He frowns a little, eyebrows knitting together as concern washes over his face. Using his index finger and his thumb, he lifts your chin and gently rubs the skin just below your lip.

“What’s the matter?” 

“I just- don’t get mad,” you begin, forcing yourself to sound sad. “But I just think you could’ve been a little bit nicer to me today.”

He had been nothing but an angel to you all day, and you felt horrendous for making him think otherwise, but alas, Tiktok had spoken and they wanted you to do this prank. So, as bad as you felt, it wouldn’t cause much harm. 

“Did I do something to upset you?” He looks genuinely hurt by his own actions and guilt immediately tugs at your heart strings.

You shrug and avert your gaze downwards, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your feet. This was partly to stop yourself from giving in too quickly, you’d always been a sucker for Jake’s puppy dog eyes and you knew if you looked into them any longer, you would stop the prank.  

Jake cocks his head to the side and steps closer to you, nuzzling his nose against the side of your head. You feel his breath fan over your ear and you swear your heart stops beating for a second. His fingers trail over your waist and he plants the softest kiss to the side of your head. 

“I just feel like you’ve been a little mean to me today,” you continue. And he nods his head in understanding, though you know he doesn’t understand at all. Jake doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but if you think he hasn’t been nice to you then he’s not going to argue. 

“I’m sorry, can you tell me what I did to make you feel this way?” 

You lean your head against his chest and bite your lip, it’s hard to contain your smile. With his sweet response mixed with the scent of his cologne fogging up your brain, you have a hard time holding onto your act and he quickly notices. 

“Is this a prank?” He asks, pulling away from you. 

You let the giggles slip from your mouth and nod towards the phone, that you had done your best to hide. Jake turns, his hand still on your waist, and he looks for the camera. Once his eyes land on his figure, he throws his head back and a breathy laugh falls from his lips.

“I should’ve known.” 

Yes, yes he should’ve but you still made up for it with plenty of kisses. 

iii. 

Picking Jake up from football practice had become a ritual. 

You didn’t need to be asked anymore, you’re just always there waiting for him and he loves that. The excited smile on his face whenever he sees you patiently sitting behind the wheel never gets old. Picking him up, as sad as it sounds, has become your drive to get through Tuesdays. They’re not your favourite day of the week, but knowing you get to see a smiley, yet sweaty, Sim Jaeyun at the end of the day gives you more than enough motivation. 

Just like any other Tuesday, you’re waiting. You like to get there early and so, you have about fifteen more minutes until you see your favourite boy walking through the gate. Music plays softly in the background as you lean back and scroll through your comment sections—people are so sweet, though you do get a bitter taste in your mouth when you see people fawning over your boyfriend like he’s a piece of cake. 

You ignore the thirst comments and look through the requests. Not many catch your eye, until you come across a particular one and a smirk appears on your face.  

Fifteen minutes turns into twenty and finally you see your worn out boyfriend heading towards your car. As tired as he never fails to smile and pick up his pace. He pulls open the door and slips inside. You reach over and greet him with a chaste kiss before pulling away.

“How was practice?” 

“Exhausting. Can we take a nap together when we get to your place?” He asks whilst adjusting his seatbelt. 

A nap sounds amazing, and you waste no time in nodding your head. “Before we go, I went shopping today. I picked you up a few things, let me show you.” 

He melts then and there. Reaching back, you grab one of the bags and aggressively tug it towards you, making sure you hit Jake on the side of the head. He hisses and turns to look at you. 

You don’t even apologize. 

“No this isn’t it,” you mumble to yourself. 

You grip the bag and throw it back where you got it from, once again making sure to slap your boyfriend with it. He stares at you, annoyed with your aggressiveness, though you don’t look back at him and instead, you hit him a third time with a new bag but you instantly regret it. You ended up attacking him with the new pair of shoes you treated yourself to and you can tell this one pained him.

Quickly giving up on the prank, you drop the bag and reach over to rub the back of his head. “I’m sorry! I really didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” 

He whips his head towards you, looking at you as though you had just murdered an entire family in front of him. “What? So you meant to hit me?” 

You drop your hand and retreat back to your seat, attempting to look innocent. Jake then finds your phone, which is pointing right at him and he sees that it’s recording. You feel guilty, having not meant to hurt him so hard, you can’t meet his eye. You are about to start driving again, when you feel an impact on your arm and a yelp parts from your mouth. 

Jake sits beside you, a smile on his face and a bag clutched in his hand. You scowl and he only grins wider. 

“Now we’re even.” 

Oh, he is evil. 

iv. 

On the 10th May 2021, you hit 5 million followers. 

It was a shock, you rarely kept track of your follower count because you weren’t really in it for that ( though you are grateful for every single person that supports you ) so, you really hadn’t been expecting to hit such a huge milestone. In fact, you were so unexpectant, that you were sleeping at the time. 

“BABY!” Your eyes flew open as the bed shook. Jake had jumped on the bed, plastering kisses all over your face. “You hit 5 mill!” 

Disoriented, you blink. “Pardon?” 

Jake chuckles at your sleepy state, even with messy hair and puffy eyes, he thinks you look so attractive. His dark eyes trail over your features as he uses his thumb to rub underneath your eye, almost like he was trying to wipe away your sleepiness. 

“You hit 5 million followers, you did it.” His voice is softer this time, quieter but still filled with enthusiasm. You gape at him, and he laughs. 

“I did?” You ask, pointing to yourself. 

He nods. “You did.” 

The realisation crashes down at you at once and suddenly, you feel your nose sting as tears form in your eyes. Your fingers curl around the fabric of your boyfriend’s shirt whilst the other hand comes up to cover your mouth. Stray tears drop down onto your skin. You can’t believe it. 5 million people followed you. They like your content.

Jake coos at the tears that leak from your eyes like a waterfall. He’s quick to wipe them away, before he presses a kiss to your wet cheek. He’s proud and he’s filled with pride, his baby got 5 million followers and he couldn’t wait to brag to everyone about how talented and cool you are. That’s his favourite thing to do. Jake loves to brag about you. 

You sniffle and press your hands against his cheeks. Gently, you rub your nose against his own. “We did it. It’s your account just as much as it is mine, I wouldn’t have got this far without you. After all, you’re my main prank victim. So, we did it. We hit 5 million together.” 

You weren’t taking all of the credit, Jake was just as involved as you and he deserves the praise. You had done this together. 

“You do know Jay is never going to let you forget that he was the one who suggested uploading it to TikTok...right?” 

You laugh, nodding your head. “Yep. I know he’s gloating in the group chat, right now.” 

And he was. Jay was so proud of you and Jake, but most of all, he was proud of himself because without him, you would have never uploaded that first video. So, you let him have his moment. 

“To millions more!” Jake cheers as he lifts the pizza in his hand, the two of you had decided to celebrate with a victorious take away and a movie marathon. 

“To millions more,” you repeat softly. 

Whether you had 0 followers or 5 million, as long as Sim Jaeyun was by your side, you didn’t mind.

[smoochkooks]

—lost stars, part 2 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.

✔ read part one here!

a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!

Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.  

Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.  

He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.

“What do you suggest we should do then?”

The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.

He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.  

Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass. 

“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.

It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.

Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck. 

He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”

Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.

Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.  

“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.

Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.

Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

“Does it really matter?”

Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.

“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.  

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”

Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.  

“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.

Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.  

“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.

Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”

“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Deal.” 

Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.  

You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.

In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.

He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.  

“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.

He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.

Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.  

He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.

“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.

Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”  

If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.  

Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.  

You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.

He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.

You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.  

It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.  

From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.

Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.

It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.

And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.

Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.

Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.

You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).  

Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.  

Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.

“Need some help?”  

Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”  

You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.  

“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.

“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.

To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”  

Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”  

Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”  

His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”  

For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.  

“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.  

You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.

They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.  

It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.  

Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.  

A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up. 

[1:23pm] jungkook:

i need you  

It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.   [1:24pm] jungkook:

please  

He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.  

He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.

He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.  

“Hello, doll.”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.

It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.  

It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.  

But you accept your fate the way it is.  

“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.  

Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.  

You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.  

You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.

“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.  

“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”  

Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”  

There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.  

“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.

Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”  

“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”  

‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”  

“I know. He told me about you.”  

Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.  

“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”  

You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”  

It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.

It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.

The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.  

Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.  

Jungkook.

Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.

Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.  

You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?

Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.  

“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”  

At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.

Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,”  You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”  

“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.  

“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”  

You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.

“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.  

“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.  

You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”  

“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”  

Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.

“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”  

You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.

The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”  

You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”  

Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”  

He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.

“You can get a driving license then finally.”  

You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”  

Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.

“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”  

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”  

Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.

“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.  

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.

You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.  

“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”  

Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”  

It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back.  “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.

“And what is that?”  

“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”  

Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.  

The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”  

“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”  

“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.  

Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.

“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.  

“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.  

He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.  

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”  

“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”  

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.

Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.  

Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.  

You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.  

You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.

Three missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:11pm] jungkook:

I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice  

Please call me back. I’m worried

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:36pm] jungkook:  

At least text me if you’re okay

Please  

[11:39pm] me:

I’m fine

[11:39pm] jungkook:  

Thank God

You sure you don’t wanna talk?

[11:41pm] me:

Maybe next time

[11:41pm] jungkook:

Okay  

Night, miss grumpy  

You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.

Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.  

[10:45am] jungkook:  

Do you have time now?  

I need to tell you sth  

It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was. 

With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response. 

[10:46am] me:  

I guess  

[10:46am] jungkook:  

Great. I’m gonna call you now

Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.  

“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”  

“You called me to ask how am I doing?”  

Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”  

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.

“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”  

“Should I be scared?”  

”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”  

You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”  

“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”  

You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.

It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.  

Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”  

Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.  

“Okay. I agree.”  

Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”  

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”  

You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.  

Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”  

That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.

When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.

Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.  

“What’s that for?” you mumble.

“Just missed you.”  

He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.  

It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.  

You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment  – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.

He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”  

You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.  

He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”

Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”  

“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.  

He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”  

“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”  

You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.

Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers. 

The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.

“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.  

“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.

“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”  

That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.

You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.  

You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”  

“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.

You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”  

“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”  

“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.

Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”  

“Taehyung.”  

Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”

“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.  

“Is somebody jealous?”  

Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”  

Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.  

No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.  

Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.  

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”  

Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.  

He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”  

You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.  

Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides  behind the horizon.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.  

“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”  

“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”  

You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.

Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”  

Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.  

“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.  

“What is it?”  

“You’re invited to a party.”  

“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.

‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.

Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?” 

Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”  

You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.  

The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.  

(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)

But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.

“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.  

“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.

He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”  

The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.

You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.  

But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.  

You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.  

Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)  

After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.

You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.

Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.  

(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)

“What are you thinking about?”  

You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.

“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”  

Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”

“Oppa?”

You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.  

Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”  

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.

“Oh, I will be over the moon.”  

“Good.”  

“Amazing, even.”

You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.

You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features. 

It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.

You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.

There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.

It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.

You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.  

It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.  

And then, you looked up and saw him.

A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.  

You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.  

“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.  

Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.  

You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.

“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”  

“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.  

“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.

Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.

And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.

You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.

You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.

The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.  

And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.  

“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.  

Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”  

You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”  

He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.

She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”  

She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.  

“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”  

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”  

At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.  

Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.  

“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.  

Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.

The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.  

‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.  

From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.  

(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)

“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.  

Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.

It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.  

When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.

It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.  

It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.  

Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.  

It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life. 

When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.  

He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.

This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.  

“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.  

It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.

“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”  

You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”  

Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.

You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”  

Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.  

From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”  

Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”   

Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.

Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.  

You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.  

It’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”  

“I do.” you whisper truthfully.

He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”  

You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.

There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.  

But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.

The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.  

He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.  

The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.  

“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.  

“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.

Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.  

Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.  

“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”  

Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.  

“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.  

“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.  

“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.

Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.

“Tell me about it.”  

She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”  

Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.

Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.  

Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.  

“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”  

Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.  

As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.  

And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.

You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.

“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.

For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.

“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.

“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.

“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.

You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.

“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.

Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”  

“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.  

Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.

“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.  

Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”  

“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.

Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”  

You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.  

“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”  

Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.  

That your little infatuation had a sequel.  

Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”

Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.

“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”  

“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”  

Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing  stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”  

The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.  

Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.

What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls.  You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.

“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”  

To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.  

Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”

Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.  

But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?  

The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away. 

Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.

By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.  

Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.  

Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.

“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”  

Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.

Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.  

And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.

“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.  

“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”  

From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.

Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.

“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”  

“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”  

You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”  

Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”  

You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”  

“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”  

Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.  

(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)

You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.

“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.

Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”  

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  

You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.  

“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”  

Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.

“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.

Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.  

Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.

“Want to get out of here for a while?”  

Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”  

“But–”

He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.

Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”  

“Ladies first.”  

“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”  

You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.

“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.

You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”

He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”  

“Exactly!”  

You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.

“So you did get rid of him after all.”  

Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.  

Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”  

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”  

Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.

Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.

“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.  

“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”  

It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.  

Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.  

It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”  

You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.

“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”  

You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”  

It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.  

“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.

It’s longing.  

“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”  

You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.  

“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”  

He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”  

He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.  

“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”  

And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”  

You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.  

And you need to hear him say it.

“Promise?”  

Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.

For now, it has to be enough.

Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.

But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.

“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”

“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”  

“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”  

He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”  

Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”  

Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”  

He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.  

You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.  

“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.

He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.  

There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes. 

Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.  

You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.  

“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.

Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”  

“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.

Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.

“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.  

He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing.  You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”  

‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.

He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening. 

“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.  

“So good,” you mewl.  

“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.  

“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”  

“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.

His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.

“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”  

He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”  

Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.

Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.  

He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.  

You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.  

“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.  

Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.  

You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”  

He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh. 

‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.

“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”

“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”  

He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.  

It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).  

He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,”  You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”

Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”

“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”  

You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.  

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.  

You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.  

He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.  

“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.

Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss. 

He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”  

Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”  

By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.

When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”

Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.

Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.

“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.  

You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.  

“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.  

“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”  

“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.  

You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”  

He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.  

“Always.”  

You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.

[4 months later]

“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”

You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.

The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.

Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.  

The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.  

He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.

You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.  

[5:55pm] jungkook:  

We’re departing in 20 minutes  

I’m missing you already so much:(

You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.  

[6:01pm] me:  

Miss u too!!

And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.  

The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.

You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.  

However long it takes.  

[y16bettridget]

(S) ~ First Meet Pt.1 ~ BC

A/n

hey guys, welcome to my new book!!

the updates probably won't be that regular as I am trying to update other books as well.

I have been writing this chapter for a while now I hope you like it.

If a chapter has (s) in the title it means that it is a soulmate chapter :)

Enjoy sorry it's quite long I didn't expect it to be

And I'm going to post an extra chapter later

3701 words

———————————————————

Summary:

Everything is normal until the moment you find your soulmate

Once you see your soulmate you feel a rush

How strong the rush is depends on how strong the soulmate connection is

What if you have a rush that is too strong for you to handle?

—————————————————

Y/N's POV:

I woke up and checked my phone for any messages.

I saw a few Instagram notifications and like 20 messages from my best friend.

I opened the messages to see this:

I let out a breath, a half sigh-half laugh kind of breath. My best friend is very impatient and over the top when she wants to be. I wonder what she wants to tell me though, there's two ways this could go: 1. It's really important like urgently needs to be addressed or 2. Something she is just really excited about

These messages were sent about 5 minutes ago. This means she will be here soon as I live about an 8 minute drive away from her house

I went down in my pyjamas knowing that she didn't really care what I was wearing. I sat down on the sofa and waited for her to barge through the front door.

~~~time skip 3 minutes~~~

I hear the front door slam open followed by a certain someone shouting "Y/n, you better have your lazy butt out of bed I have something important to tell you!"

I chuckled at her behaviour before I felt a weight on top of me, "Nice to see you too" I said while laughing

"Yah you didn't reply to my texts!"

"It's because I was Sleeping like normal people do"

"Well I have something more important than sleep"

"What's more important than my precious sleep?"

"I managed to get us.... tickets to go see..... STRAY KIDS!!"

"Cool.... Wait, What! REALLY?!"

"Yeah, really" she said with a huge smile on her face

"I know how long you've been waiting to see one of their concerts"

"I know right, also we need to go shopping because the concert is tomorrow"

"Ugh, okay"

As soon as the words left my mouth, she got off my lap a bolted towards the door. She shouted "Love Ya Biatch" before slamming the door behind her.

"Love you too" I said to myself because she was already gone. I definitely have a weird best friend, but I love her for that.

I'm a fan of Stray Kids which is why I accepted to go with her to the concert. I love their music and them in general but I'm not an obsessed fan girl who would do anything to be near them. I respect that they are all human and respect their privacy and space.

~~~time skip to later that day~~~

I am now with my best friend again and we are going shopping. Well she is going shopping, I'm getting dragged around by her.

We ended up getting clothes for tomorrow and she bought loads of other stuff.

We went back to our own houses and chose to relax. It's tiring being dragged around shopping all day.

~~~time skip to the next day~~~

I woke up to a million and one messages from my best friend. mean that was an exaggeration but she spammed my phone again. I opened the messages and just read the last couple she sent.

'Don't forget about the concert today'

'Get up and get ready I'll pick you up in about an hour'

'Never mind I'm gonna come and get ready around your house'

As if on cue she walked into my house and shut the door behind her. I heard her run upstairs and watched my bedroom door fly open before getting tackled into a hug.

"Hey Biatch"

"Hey babes"

"Time to get ready" she practically screamed next to my ear.

We both got ready for the concert this was my look:

Hair:

Makeup:

Outfit:

We left my house and I locked the door behind us. I climbed into my friends car and put my seatbelt on. She started driving and I started playing some very loud Stray Kids songs.

~~~time skip~~~

We got there way too early which I kind of expected seeing as my best friend made us leave really early.

To waste some time we go around buying some merch, I say some because I bought a few pieces and my friend bought almost everything she saw and liked. I don't know how she isn't broke yet.

I bought something small that I could use/wear all the time:

I decided that she had spent enough today and managed to persuade her to come to the café to chill before the concert.

We left where they sell the merch and started walking to the café. We were about halfway there when I realised that my friend was no longer beside me. I turned around to see her frozen in place staring at something that I cannot see.

I quickly walked towards her to see what she was looking at. That's when I saw seven boys wearing masks (face coverings / face masks or whatever you want to call them)

"Why are you staring at them?" I asked confused

"It's stray kids!" she excitedly said back to me

"Okay now that you've seen them let's go to the café" I finished my sentence then realised she was no longer by my side again

I looked around to see her running towards the members of stray kids.

I panicked but acted quickly and started running after her while shouting,

"(friends name)! Stop running! Let them have a break, this is what the concert is for. Let them have some time to relax before they get surrounded by crazy fans!" I quickly caught up with her and turned her around by her shoulders.

I bowed my head to the boys who weren't too far away from us and muttered an apology to them.

As I raised my head I saw one of the boys pull down his mask and mouth 'thank you' to me before pulling the mask back up and walking off with the other 6 boys.

I walked back towards the café with (friends name). I'm still holding onto her shoulders just in case she tries to run away again.

We made it to the café and ordered some drinks before sitting down and starting a conversation. I say start a conversation it's just me listening to her rant about stray kids

I kinda zoned out during it and was just thinking about how I only saw 7 members there, 'I swear there are 8 members of stray kids'

"Hey, (Friends name)?"

"yeah?"

"How many members are in stray kids?"

"Well there were 9 members but Woojin left in 2019 so now there are 8 members why?"

"I was just wondering why there were only 7 boys there"

"Oh were there? I wasn't really paying attention I was kind of distracted by the fact that we saw Stray Kids"

"Yeah there were only seven but I don't know who was missing"

"I don't know but speaking of Stray Kids...." She then continues her rant about the members and the group in general

I then zoned out until it was time to go to the concert

~~~time skip~~~

We had been waiting for ages but we are now inside the arena where the concert is being held. We went to where are tickets told us we were, to be honest I was just following (friends name) because I had no idea where I was going. We arrived at our area and that is when I found out that she had managed to get us tickets for the pit.

We were still quite early but some people were earlier and got the front of the pit. (Friends name) tried to get through to the front but they wouldn't budge so we just stayed the row behind them.

~~~time skip~~~

It was starting to get chaotic now. More and more people were filing into the pit and I was getting more and more squished, but I just kept telling myself that it will be fine I just have to wait until Stray Kids come on stage. It will get worse then I know but then at least I will be distracted.

~~~time skip~~~

The pit is officially full to the brim, I am squished like a sardine in a tin. Now we just have to wait for the concert to start.

~~~time skip~~~

We didn't have to wait long before the lights dimmed and the crowd went wild. Stray Kids wasn't even on stage yet but everyone knew what was coming. Everyone was pushing forwards to try and get closer to the stage which ended up with me pushing against my friend who is now stood in front of me.

It was very warm anyways but surrounded by all the people I was scared I was gonna pass out.

Eventually Stray Kids started to come out from back stage and time seemed to go in slow motion.

Lee Felix

My heart kept beating faster and faster

Lee Minho and Han Jisung

My hands started getting clammy

Hwang Hyunjin

Why am I so nervous they probably won't even see me?!

Yang Jeongin and Kim Seungmin

The crowd kept pushing closer and closer to the stage, closer to the boys.

Seo Changbin

People pushed past me but I managed to stay close to (friend)

And finally.... Bang Chan

I heard the cheers from the crowd before I saw him. But as soon as I set my eyes on him I felt extremely light headed.

My heart started beating even faster, and the room started to tip. I could feel people close in around me and I felt (friend) take hold of my arm before speaking to me. By speaking I mean shouting to me,

"We need to try and get to the front!!"

She tried to pull me by my arm but I stopped her saying that I wasn't feeling too good.

She looked at me in a way that said 'are you sure'

I nodded in response which made me even dizzier. Everyone carried on trying to push past me and actually succeeding this time.

I felt myself stumble back I didn't even know if I had my eyes open anymore. The sound and people keep fading in and out.

The last thing I heard was (friend) shouting, "Y/N!!"

(FRIEND)'s POV:

I feel people start to push past me so I quickly turned around to face y/n. I saw her being pushed so I grabbed her arm to keep us together.

"We need to try and get to the front!!" I shouted at her so she could hear me.

I pulled her arm so we could push through but quickly stopped when I heard her say that she wasn't feeling too good.

I looked at her in a way that asked 'are you sure?' Which she nodded in response to.

I was worried for my friend, she didn't look very well. Her face was pale, her eyes unfocused, her entire body off balance.

Everyone started pushing past her meaning that she was falling to the back of the group. I followed her backwards because I didn't want to leave her by herself.

I watched as she stumbled back, her eyes partially shutting before flickering open again. Her eyes kept fluttering shut which made me ask my next questions

"Y/n can you hear me?"

No response

"Y/n we need to get you out of here"

"Hold on I'll get- Y/N!!" I cut myself off with a shout when I saw her body crumple to the floor.

I panicked and melt down beside her body. I checked her pulse before thinking of what to do.

Everyone had cleared a space for Y/n but no one was looking at her or trying to get help. All eyes were on the stage where Stray Kids stood.

That's when I thought of a plan:

There must be bodyguards, right?

I pushed through the crowd as much as I could until people started to push back, stopping me from getting to the front

"No I need to get to the front"

"We all want to be at the front" one replied annoyed

"I need to get help for my friend, she's passed out"

"Oh, okay I'll help you get through"

With the stranger's help, we started to push through and passed on the message of needing help to other people.

After talking to a few people we got a little gang together. We pushed forward and shouted that we needed help.

Someone obviously heard us as the next thing I heard was "let this person through"

People begrudgingly split a path so I could get through to the front.

I quickly ran through after thanking the strangers that helped me get through.

I got to the front to see that it was Chan speaking. He stared right at me as he asked his next question, "what do you need help with?"

"My friend fainted she's over there" I said back and pointed in the direction she was lying.

He nodded at me before saying something to the bodyguards that were near him.

AUTHOR's POV:

Chan told the fans to make way and the bodyguards went into the crowd. They carried on going until they reached the girl led on the floor.

One bodyguard came over to (friend) and asked her if she wanted to come with her friend or stay in the concert.

Obviously she chose to go with her friend so the bodyguard helped her get the other side of the barrier and led her backstage.

While (friend) was doing this, a bodyguard had picked Y/n up in a bridal carry and carried her back through the crowd towards the stage.

They got to the front and the bodyguard carrying y/n passed her on to a different one. The new bodyguard walked with her in his arms and took her backstage.

(FRIEND)'s POV:

I was waiting in a room when the door opened revealing Y/n in a bodyguards arms.

My hands were shaking so badly, I was scared for my friend. I have no idea what happened, she was fine this morning.

The bodyguard placed her down on the sofa that was in the room and I sat on a chair not too far away from her.

Two nurses came in after the bodyguard left and they asked me some questions

"Did she seem faint before she passed out?"

"About 30 seconds before she passed out she said she wasn't feeling too good but prior to that she was perfectly fine"

"Okay... We're going to need to check over her and you too"

"Why me?"

"You seem pretty shaken up"

I nodded in response and let the nurse check over me and calm me down while the other nurse focused on Y/n

~~~time skip back to just after Y/n passed out~~~

CHAN's POV:

I saw someone trying to get through the crowd but I brushed it off because I thought it was a fan just wanting to be closer to us.

Not long after I hear shouting coming from that direction. I look over to see a group of people pushing towards and shouting something

I listened closely to what they were saying,

"We need help!"

I realised that they weren't lying so I spoke to the crowd, "let this person through"

The fans made a path for them even though I could tell they didn't want to. The person ran towards the front and I saw that it was a very panicked girl.

I stared at her as I asked my question, "what do you need help with?"

"My friend fainted she s over there" she said back and pointed in the direction she just came from. I am assuming that her friend was over there as well.

I nodded at her before leaning down to the closest bodyguards

"Can you go get her friend and bring them backstage so we can keep an eye on them"

They nodded at me before I spoke again, this time to the entire crowd.

I told the fans to make way as they had closed back up after letting the first girl through.

The bodyguards went into the crowd and went quite far back before they reached the unconscious person.

One of the bodyguards made there way over to the first girl and spoke to her.

The girl quickly responded before the bodyguard helped her get the other side of the barrier. I watched as that bodyguard led her backstage before I focused my attention back to the other bodyguard.

I saw someone being carried in her arms but I couldn't see who because the bodyguards back was facing me. When the bodyguard turned around, I saw that it was a girl being carried in her arms.

I looked at her face and I suddenly felt very lightheaded. I then felt my body heat up and my vision go slightly fuzzy.

I quickly stumbled off stage so our fans wouldn't see me in this state. As soon as I made it off stage I felt my body collapse to the floor.

AUTHOR's POV:

Staff ran up to Chan as soon as he passed out. A bodyguard picked him up and took him to the Stray Kids dressing room.

The bodyguard then placed him down on the sofa and left the room. As soon as the bodyguard left a nurse came in and started checking him over.

A nurse came to check on Chan after a bodyguard moved him to the SKZ dressing room.

The other members didn't know what was happening. They saw that a girl had fainted in the crowd and the next thing they knew was that Chan was running off stage.

Changbin had seen that Chan fainted as soon as he got off stage and quickly told the other members. Changbin saw because he was stood closest to Chan and closest to the side of the stage.

After all the members knew what had happened they tried to reassure the crowd that he was okay, he just needed to get some air.

The crowd hadn't seen him faint they just saw him run off but they were all freaking out because of it.

Eventually the crowd calmed down and Stray Kids started talking to them normally just trying to waste time because they didn't know what to do.

The nurse that had been checking on (friend) was currently checking up on Chan to see if there was any connections to what happened.

A few staff members surrounded him with fans and ice packs to try and cool him down and wake him up.

CHAN's POV:

I felt cool air on my face and a freezing thing on my neck and chest. I'm assuming that they're ice pack.

I peeled my eyes open to see about 5 staff members and a nurse surrounding me.

"W-what happened?"

"You passed out as soon as you got off stage"

This made me remember the girl, I don't know why but I had the sudden urge to go and check on her in person.

"How is the girl that fainted?"

"She is still passed out but nothing else is wrong with her"

"What room is she in?" I said slowly sitting up of the sofa.

The nurse looked at me confused before answering, "(room number)"

I nodded before slowly making my way out of the dressing room and to the room that she is in.

I carefully opened to door to see a girl led on the sofa with a nurse checking up on her. I also saw a girl sat on a chair beside her, that's the girl that asked for help.

I walked closer to them and asked the nurse "how is she?"

"She is good but she hasn't made any signs of waking up yet"

I knelt down next to the sofa so I could see her properly. I don't know why but I felt a strange pull towards her, like I needed to hold her and protect her from everything.

I looked at her face to see the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen. I felt a small smile pull at my lips as I admired her.

I saw some hair stuck to her forehead so I brought my hand up to brush it off.

As my fingertips touched her forehead I felt a jolt of electricity shoot up my arm and saw that she was trying to wake up.

Her eyes flickered open and quickly shut again. Her friend went and dimmed the lights before she tried to open her eyes again. Her (e/c) we're so pretty and just wanted to look at them all day.

What are you thinking Chan!? She is a complete stranger!

She looked over at me and I saw her eyes widen. She looked up at my face and made eye contact with me. As that happened I felt a rush of warmth go through my body.

Y/N's POV:

I looked to my side to see a guy knelt there. I started looking up when I realised that it was Chan. THE CHAN FROM STRAY KIDS!!

What was he doing here?

I looked up at him face and as soon as we made eye contact I felt a rush of warmth flow through me.

I smiled at him and introduced myself,

"Hi Chan I'm Y/n it's nice to finally meet you"

"Hi it's nice to finally meet you too... soulmate"

———————————————————————

Chapter 2

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

The Tragic and Magic about You. Modern day bounty hunter Din Djarin x F!reader #Writer Wednesday 05/12/21

Summary: You’ve been running away, and trying to start a new, but suddenly you’re captured in a car with a mysterious bounty hunter that has to deliver you to your old boss. But the road can be a dangerous place and the journey will change both your fates forever.

Words: 4,6

Warning: swearing, guns and murder. “there’s only one sleeping bag” trope. Fluff at the end.

A/N: Hi! Another week another thank you to all the amazing writers that participate and everybody that read, comment, like, reblog etc. And of course to @autumnleaves1991-blog for creating this and bring a platform to smaller blogs like myself. Sorry for any bad grammar, misspelling etc and excuse my zero imagination to create fictional names for characters. This is vaguely inspired by Hozier “From Eden” song and specifically the video.

The Tragic and Magic about you

“So you don’t talk much huh?” you say, it’s been a few hours since he’s taken you and he hasn’t said a word. His dark brown eyes fixed on the road and he doesn’t even react when you talk.

“Can I turn on the radio?” before he answers you’re already touching the buttons. A few notes escape from the stereo and in a second it’s gone, he has reached the device and has turn it off. “Not a big fan of music, gotcha” you reply with a huff. Bored, you observe his profile, his hair is disheveled, a chocolate brown as his eyes; he has a striking beauty you think: strong jaw line, aquiline nose and a stern expression. Gosh, you always on the look for bad men and you laugh at yourself for being as simple as to being attracted to the bounty hunter that has finally catch you.

“So you’re kinda nostalgic? Cool car” you brush your hand over the beige leather inside the silver blue Cadillac. “And expensive, you must be really good at this bounty hunt thing, well, you got me and I’ve been running for a few months. I really thought I was safe to be honest, it’s been a long time since somebody got close so I became a little bit too comfortable, I must admit. God! I’m going to miss my apartment” you pout” I had plans for the weekend, and even bought all the ingredients to make a cake. I was almost there! Shit! Now my flat is going to stink with all that food expiring and probably my landlord is going to steal all my stuff, fucking prick, I hate him so much” The bounty hunter reaches for the radio and turns it on. You smirk watching as he has adjusted his posture and his index taps rapidly on the steering wheel.

“Oh I love this song!” you turn it up to the maximum and start singing clearly not knowing the lyrics you just mutter the final syllables of each word, watching him intently as his eyelid trembles and he’s breathing deeply now, his knuckles white holding the wheel so hard that you think he’s about to break it “Isn’t it beautiful this country? look at this, we really don’t appreciate it much, look at the red and oranges of these mountains, the vastness, the sand and how you cannot reach the horizon with your eyes. You must love this, just riding solo with your cool car just doing whatever you want. Real freedom”

For the first time since he arrested you, he turns to you giving you a warning look and you bite your lip, he’s intimidating, a big man and you know if he’s in the business he’s capable of anything, but here you are pressing all his buttons until, if it works, he’s going to snap.

“What’s your name?” He sighs deeply and keeps on driving ignoring you once more “I mean you know many things about me, it’s only fair”

“Mm, let me guess” you tap your finger over your chin “Tom?” no, too posh for you. Jack? you could be a Jack but no. Oh! oh!” you move nervously on your seat and slap on his arm with both your hand handcuffed together “I’m going to call you Clint. You know why?” you wait a few seconds “Clint Eastwood, my friend, a man of a few words. You know who he is, right? Dirty Harry? All those westerns? They’re really not my thing, but he’s a legend, you surely must know him”

The few following hours you asked him about many things and you don’t know anybody this strong, if you were in his place you would be already dead or inside the trunk.

The sun is getting down and the desert starts to be submerged in a violet light and there’s nothing around. You wonder if he’s really going on until he has to give you up without stopping. You’re hungry and thirsty (after too much talking) and you really could use a bathroom.

“So Clint, we ain’t stopping just for bit? I really need to pee, and it would be great if you take this off for a bit” you shake your handcuffs close to his face, and finally you have achieved his limit. He stops the car abruptly and opens his door without saying a word. You follow him with your eyes and when he comes to your door you think of begging mercy knowing that you don’t deserve it, poor guy must have had it.

You turn on your seat and face him. Clint bends down a little and grabs you by your hip taking you out of the car by a swift movement.

“Careful!” you scream

“Shut up” he doesn’t raise his voice. It’s the second time he has said something. The first time being when he stopped you on the middle of the road and after confirming your identity, he had caught you and handcuffed you but he hadn’t said a thing, until now. His voice is deep and low and you wish to hear more but he opens the door to the back seat and throws you on it. He reaches for his jeans and you actually freeze thinking he’s reaching for his gun but he takes out a black bandana and comes close to you. His large broad body occupies all your space, his leather jacket making his shoulders look stronger than you had thought at first glance.

He’s surprisingly gentle, his big hands circling your head while he adjusts the fabric over your mouth “Really it’s not necessary” you say before he reaches your mouth with two fingers and pushes the black bandana between your lips. He ties it a little bit tighter. Your head is on his chest over his white shirt and you scold yourself when you feel you have closed your eyes smelling him: leather, fresh soap and something else that it’s entirely his, once the knot is done on your nape he looks at you and raises one eyebrow “Too tight?”

“i-f not nefecessary f-really” you say and he stays too close to your face for a bit, probably thinking if he should just shove the thing inside your throat and shut you forever. You feel your cheeks burning because you’ve been looking straight into his eyes, they’re surprisingly gentle, there’s warmth in them that you haven’t seen in anybody in this kind of business.

“Just be good and stay quiet for the rest of the journey. We will arrive soon” Clint then proceeds to grab you by your legs and puts you in a more comfortable position on the seat and takes the precaution of fastening your seatbelt. He is extremely careful on his movements and he barely brushes his hands on your hip while doing it, but his neck is so close, shining in a thin layer of perspiration and you are lost again thinking things any sensible person would never have in mind while you’re been taken against your will to answer for messing with the wrong people.

You moan in disappointment when he gets away and closes the door. Then you are left there alone, his scent lingering over your body and you think about how your life had come to this but then...

You feel the air hitting your right side first and the projectile breaking the sound close to your ear second, then the million small pieces of the glass. Some other gunshots hit the trunk and you’re already screaming and trying to get down but the handcuffs and your trembling hands don’t find the way to unlock the seatbelt.

Clint is pressed against the car, you see the top of his head and he’s firing back to whomever is attacking you. You throw your body on the back seat and in the second your back hits the leather, two gun shots blast both windows and many sparkling bits of glass hits your face.

“Release me!” you shout “I can f-helpf” your chin is covered in your saliva but who fucking cares when you’re about to die. Clint raises and you see through the door how he’s attacking back with two guns, his face contorted and sweaty and then you hear the sound of tires screeching the road and your captor lowers his guns.

“Are you okay?” he says through the broken glass on the door

He opens it and what was left of the glass windows crashes to the ground. Clint looks at it for a second; his cool vintage car is destroyed. He climbs over you and takes out the wet fabric out of your mouth

“Are you okay?” he asks again, with the gentlest touch of his fingers he shakes off of your face the small crystals

“Yeah” you whisper. It’s sad that this is the kindest anybody has been to you in a long time.

He reaches for your hands and turns them softly seeing that a red line has formed on your wrists. Clint then lowers the collar of his shirt to reveal a long silver chain with what looks like a skull with horns and one small key to the side, he takes it out and you hear the small clic sound once you’re free.

“Come on we have to go”

When you get out of the car, you curse seeing that they have completely destroyed the tires and the smell of gas and the dark puddle on the road assures you that the car is useless. But there’s nothing around and zero traffic. The vast desert is now covered in the blue shadow of the night and the temperature is beginning to sink.

“So what’s the plan?” Clint has taken a big duffle bag on his shoulder and pushes you from your lower back to the side of the road

“We will spend the night here, if we stay in the open they could find us easily” he says walking towards the darkness where only the shadow of the sharp bushes and cacti cover the space.

“Who are they?” you ask and try to fix your feet on the ground but he still pushes you towards the emptiness of the desert

“Probably competing bounty hunters, you have a big price on your head, you know?” he responds

“But spending the night in the desert, we will be dead by the morning” you protest. The few lights on the road are getting farther and farther away as you both walk towards some indeterminate point. He walks slowly by your side, actually not paying much attention to you, his hand now lies lazily on his side and so you decide in a rush to run away towards the only thing you deem safe, the road. You hear him sigh before he starts running behind you

“Stop, please” he shouts but you go on. You feel your legs as if they were made of iron, heavy and stiff. You gasp the air in your lungs exiting all at once, once he catches you and raise you over his shoulder. You become a little dizzy with your head upside down grabbing the belt on his jeans for your dear life

“Let me down!” he ignores you and keeps on walking, his hand are strong lock on your thighs and the other in your calf so you cannot kick him “I said let me down!”

“Are you going to run again?” he stops

“No” you sigh

“Great” and he bends down so your feet can touch the ground.

He gave you a bottle of warm water and some energetic cereal bar while he prepares a small camp. He knows his ways in all this, searching for a specific place in the wilderness where you two could be safe. Two tall red rocks shield you from the night and he is now cleaning the ground so he can lay down the sleeping bag.

“I guess you did well in the Boys Scouts” you comment, he’s been silent again

“I’ve never been one” you open your eyes widely; it’s the first time he has answered one of your stupid comments.

“It comes with the Master Degree in Bounty Hunt, huh Clint?” you laugh

“My name is not Clint”

“Alright, so what’s your name?” you cross your arm over your legs waiting for an answer but he doesn’t give you one. He sits opposite you with his eyes on the road far away

“You know we could talk a little, we have a bond now with this near death experience”

“Rest in the sleeping bag, I’m going to stand guard” he cuts you

“I’m not that tired” even in the dark you see his eyes glaring at you, and you obey. The bag is on his right side and you get inside it feeling the hard ground on your back. Your muscles protest feeling all the tension going away and even if you try not to your eyes begin to close begging for a few hours of sleep.

You curl and make a ball out of your body, when you open your eyes is a dark pitch nothingness in front of you and you tremble for a second until the stars and the moon cast enough light to see a few meters away. It’s so cold now, your jeans and basic cotton shirt are not enough and even the fabric of the sleeping bag couldn’t protect you from this. So you turn and watch your captor’s shape huddled down pressed against the stone.

“Aren’t you cold?” you teeth chatter and he doesn’t answer and the worst possible scenario begins to form on your head “Clint tell me you’re not dead for fuck sake! what would I do in this shithole?”

“I’m not” he simply says, you see that he has zip up his leather jacket, his hands protected inside his armpits

“Come here, we need to stay warm” you get your arm out and blindly trying to reach for his body

“I’m okay”

“Come on, I’m freezing, do you really want to bring me in dead?”

“They actually didn’t care, I could bring in you in cold or I could bring in you in warm”

“Well, be kind and bring me warm” you guess he’s thinking about it or actually it’s going to be brave and spend the night like that, but you hear him moving towards you and lie down against you with a huff.

“Don’t be shy, Clint” you say pressing your body against him. He tenses for a second but then agrees to put his arm around you and his warm breath brushes the hair on your neck

“My name is not Clint” he mutters

“Then why don’t you tell me your name and we will be over it, Clint?”

“I don’t tell anybody, especially those who I catch and deliver”

“I bet you’d never lied down spooning with anyone you caught in the middle of the desert, Clint, but here we are” you whisper

“You never shut up, right?”

“I bet your tongue must be tired for all this talking, Clint” he exhales deeply and moves a little. His big body is surprisingly warm and you think that maybe he could have survived the night out in the open, but you’re thankful that he did join you. You relax your body feeling how tense it was once the temperature lowered “I guess it must be a very horrible name and that’s why you don’t want to tell anybody. But I don’t judge, I mean if anything it’s your parents fault and I will never judge a parent, I’m a very shitty mum myself”

“You are a mum?” his voice sound surprised

“Yeah...I was young when I had him” you feel a warm tear rolling on your otherwise froze cheek

“Wh-where is he?” he tentatively asks

“Far away, with a family I thought would take good care of him, but they’re assholes” you cough before actually starting to cry

“You cannot get him back?”

“I was trying to, that’s why I took the money from my old boss. To start a life with him far away from all this shit and the things I did in the past” you feel how he turns abruptly and raises his upper body to look over at you

“You’re not making that up to get yourself out of this, right?” his words are harsh and the moonlight hit his serious face “I take very seriously anything that has to be with children, it’s part of my creed”

“I’m not lying” you mutter he doesn’t move for a bit but then you see him fluster when he’s aware that you’re very close and he’s on top of you.

Then you’re both in silence you press your eyelids shut trying to regain sleep or maybe to control the urge to cry.

He was actually right. The gas station was not far away, he looks at you from the payphone while you devour a doughnut he has paid and a cup of coffee.

“One of my associates is going to pick us up in a bit” he leaves the duffle bag over one of the gas pump and searches something until he has taken a black plastic clamp “I’m sorry I have to” he takes your hands and brushes his thumb over the marks, you hiss and he looks at you with warm eyes “it would be loose, but don’t do anything stupid” when he ties it, it barely touches your skin “Is it okay?”

“Yes, thanks”

While in the car, with the other man driving, Clint doesn’t say a word and he’s back to the brooding and mysterious bounty hunter. You want to ask him a million questions, know his name, what his creed is or what the collar he hides is and you know that time’s up. You will be delivered to Mr. Horzag and then...you actually don’t know what he’s going to do to you. You have been avoiding those thoughts but now it’s time to face your fate.

His club looks completely different in the daylight. The liquor and the suspicious stains on the velvet couches are visible and the dark paint is chipped, all the frames and lamps dusty, you think that you’ve been lucky the time you’ve worked for him not catching anything bad from touching this sticky place.

“So you are as efficient as they told me” he says with that slow and deep voice of his

Clint nods and softly grabs your forearm bringing you towards the table where the old man smokes.

“Oh, my sweet runaway, it’s a pleasure to have you back” he smiles and you shiver

“Unfortunately I can’t say the same”

“Where’s the money?” he changes his fake smile to a violent expression

“I don’t have it” you shrug

“That’s inconvenient you know that, don’t you?”

“I told you I needed the money, I deserved it for many long hours in this shithole and doing jobs you never actually paid for. I told you I needed it as soon as possible and you ignore me. I just took what I was owed” you replied

“Oh! Yes! To finally play the mummy you actually never wanted to be. How sweet!” he laughs. The two men by his side laugh with him but it sounds faked. Everybody dances at the sound of Mr. Herzog music in this hell; you must always do what he does. “And if you needed the money to get your baby back, where is he? Oh! Maybe you got lost on your way as always, right? And actually expended it on yourself, poor baby is better off without you. Who would want a hoe like you as a mum?”

Again the sound and the air hit you first before you could even process what’s going on. Clint has his two guns out and he has hit Mr. Herzog just in the middle of his forehead, the faster man of the two lies dead with a similar shot and the other, being slower falls down to the ground with his gun on his hand that he hasn’t had the chance to use.

“What?” you shout

“We have to go, is there any other way out? The men at the entry will arrive soon” he says and grabs your arm to rush you when you are still gasping looking at the scene

“Over there” you point to the bathrooms

There was a small door, with a warning claiming that behind it there was just the electric panel but it was actually a door out to run away in case of police raids. You grab Clint‘shand and run through the dark corridor knowing your way in the dark

“We will arrive few streets away” you announce

You try to catch your breath once you get out but he doesn’t give you that time to rest and grabs you and keeps on running gathering insults and screams while you bump into people. He doesn’t stop until you’re on a parking lot on some supermarket; he walks casually until he stops beside the door of a car.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting us a transport. Go to the other door” he covers himself with his body, and you hear the clic when the doors unlock.

A few miles after, you have already caught your breath but still your body is shaking

“Why did you do it?” you mumble. Clint looks at the road, his face is dirty and his jacket dusty, he looks at you before he answers, his eyes glow and you can see tears forming at the corner of his eyes. “A child should be with their parents. They should be loved and taking care of” he says and nods “Where’s your son?”

The neighborhood is dead silent; you drive slowly watching the white fences, white painted houses.

“That’s the one” you say

“Let’s go” he stops the car in the middle of the road and you follow Clint not knowing exactly what is he planning to do.

“We should wait until the morning and ask for him”

“They tried to blackmail you into paying them for getting your son back, what do you think they’re going to do?” he mutters and you sigh knowing it’s true. They didn’t even let you see him after hours of driving if you didn’t gave them something.

He works his magic hands again as he did with the car and opens the door without a sound. He turns his head to both sides until he finds the small panel of the alarm. “Go to his room, I will work the alarm. Don’t make a sound”

You climb the stairs and they creak a little but you’re swift and enter the small room where you know he will be on his crib. You have to cover your mouth to prevent you from crying.

He has a white shirt too big for him and he is cuddling the soft frog plushie you bought him last time you visited him.

“Sh, sh, I’m here, ranita” (little frog) you take him with the small white blanket he has over him, and press his small body to your chest. He protest a little and holds tight his soft toy but doesn’t make another sound or wakes up. So with all the care in the world you climb down and Clint is at the door and waves his hand to rush you.

“Probably the alarm will go off in a few minutes. C’mon”

You could sleep, your body and mind begs you for it, but you can’t take your eyes off of your precious baby. His small lips parted in a relaxed slumber, in a way he knows his at home, his with you and that makes your heart beat faster and bring tears to your eyes. “Thank you” you say, he drives slowly, the light from the cars illuminates his smiling face “It’s a beautiful baby”

“Greg, that’s his name, told you I will not judge if you have a horrible name. I should have thought about other but I wanted to please my boyfriend at the time, just for him to run away...fucker”

“It’s Din” he says

“Din?” you say back and repeat it a few times loving the way it sounds on your lips “It’s beautiful”

“Thank you”

All the waitresses stop to smile and say a few sweet words to your son and you feel proud, in this horrible and ungrateful life you made something so pure and beautiful, he smiles at them once he’s awake and one of them even makes the effort of pressing some fruits to make something for him to eat. Din has his arms crossed over the table eating his breakfast but keeps his eyes on you. You see him observing you and the baby from the corner of your eye and when you get him he blushes and keeps on eating.

“Say hi to Din, ranita. He saved us” you grab his chubby hand and waves it to Din that smiles back at him. Greg opens his toothless mouth at him and laughs “Oh you like him! Enough to lend him your froggy, huh?” you ask the baby and he smiles while eating another spoon of his purée “Take the frog and look inside” you motion to the soft toy that is over the table. Greg actually pouts when he takes it but doesn’t cry.

The toy has a small white Velcro slot where normally there would be a small battery to make sounds but inside there’s a plastic bag with a thick bundle of bills.

“Your payment. I guess it’s only fair. I went to those fuckers’s house to get my baby but they asked for more money. So I looked for a job, a proper one, to pay the rest and well, the rest of what I’ve stolen couldn’t be in a bank and what’s a better place for hiding than a place in plain sight, huh?

“I cannot accept it” he says pressing the Velcro “You have to provide for your baby” he shakes his head and puts the frog back to its place much to Greg content.

“And what would you do? You cannot possible be back to bounty hunting”

“I can move to other place, start somewhere new. Nobody really knows me” he shrugs

“We do, I do” you whisper and then there’s silence between you two, and it feels the cafeteria is silent, there’s nobody around except for you and the invisible string that ties you together, a string full of dreams and longing for a home, for love and acceptance, to truly belong somewhere. “If you starting a new, and I too...I...well”

“That’s no life for a baby...” his voice shakes and he’s back to fix his eyes on his plate

“A baby deserves to be love and taking care of, you said it. And Din, you’re the first person that has cared for us”

“I guess I could protect you until you’re both safe and settle” he says softly like he’s trying to convince himself “For a bit...”

You smile and nod tears gathering on your eyes. It’s the happiest you’ve been since forever “For a bit” you agree.

(As you saw I have zero imagination for names and called baby Grogu, Baby Greg and Mr Harzog is the name of the actor for The Client in The Mandalorian 🤦)

[chloelucia13]

To Dream

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Prompt: After a case takes a turn for the worst, Spencer can’t help the doubt of your future riddling his brain. But when he closes his eyes, everything is okay. If only for a moment. Based off the song “Epiphany” by Taylor Swift

Warnings: angst, a little fluff, mentions of death, language, violence, gore, it’s just a ride y’all (italics are memories, words in bold are dreams)

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: So I’ve gotten sucked into the Criminal Minds fandom, and now it’s time to do what I do best: write sad fan fiction. I hope you all enjoy! My requests are open 24/7 and so is my taglist!

Tags: @sojournmichael​

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You’ve done this a million times. The case was so simple, so easy to dissect. 

Maybe you got cocky. Maybe you underestimated the unsub. Maybe this was all your fault.

Nausea churned in your stomach as you screeched to a halt in front of the old auto body shop. You knew that you would find a house of horrors as soon as you stepped inside, but the adrenaline in your veins told you to ignore your hesitation and the breakfast from this morning that was crawling up your esophagus.

“I’m going in,” you announced, unbuckling your seatbelt and nearly throwing yourself out of the car. 

“Y/N, wait, you need backup,” Spencer shouted after you as you hurried to the entrance.

You stopped in front of the building, turning to give him a look. “Spence, you heard his message.” 

This man, this murderer, seemed to be infatuated with the media coverage of the case. You caught on to the fact that he was following along closely with the case after he sent a haunting letter to the precinct, detailing where he was and that he would give himself up to the police, as long as his legacy would not be forgotten.

 Turns out, the media coverage wasn’t the only thing he was infatuated with. 

It was realized at the beginning of researching this case that you fit his type to a t, but you never expected that it would become this.

His other request? That you were the only one to capture him and take him into custody.

Spencer opened his mouth to argue but you cut him off. “If anyone goes in there but me, it’ll be a bloodbath,” you reminded him.

He gulped, weighing his options for a moment. “Fine. The rest of the team is on the way. As soon as you’ve got him, radio to me and we’ll send everyone in,” he instructed, worry marring his features.

“Everything’s gonna be fine. I promise, doc.” You gave him a gentle smile before turning on your heel and entering the building, your gun drawn.

The smell of coagulated blood and decomposition hit your nostrils the moment you stepped inside, making your stomach lurch. You bit down on your cheek so harshly the taste of copper tinged your tongue.

“Randy McAllister, this is the FBI,” you announced your presence, edging around the corner into the main part of the garage.

“Ah, Agent Y/L/N, I thought you’d never make it,” a voice hummed to the right of you.You turned your head to see him standing with a gun in his right hand, a woman on her knees in front of him.

“Let her go, Randy. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

He chuckled. “Oh darling, she has everything to do with this. She’s my replacement for you, can’t you tell?” He glided the tip of his gun against her forehead, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Then give me her, and you can get what you want.”

“You really thought I was gonna be that easy?” He clicked his tongue. “Take off your vest.”

You scoffed. “I’m not taking off my vest.”

he clenched his jaw, hovering his finger over the trigger. “Take off your vest or I’ll blow her fucking brains out!”

You knew not to question him. He’d done it five times already, so what’s stopping him from doing it again.

You slowly slid your gun into your holster before ripping the velcro apart, pulling your kevlar vest off and setting it on the ground. “There, are you happy?”

He grinned, baring his teeth like a rabid dog, before pushing the girl forward. You bent down and helped her up before directing her to run, waiting until you could no longer hear her footsteps before you drew your gun once more.

“Alright, Randy. I did what you wanted. Now drop your weapon and put your hands above your head.”

His grin slowly fell, letting his gun clatter to the ground before he rose his hands in the air, surrendering. 

You stepped behind him, yanking his hands behind his back and holding them together with one hand while you searched for your cuffs with the other. 

Everything moved so suddenly. 

A sharp crack echoed through the garage as he slammed his head back into yours, shattering the cartilage in your nose. You stumbled back, clutching onto your nose as you tried to regain your balance. 

He grabbed you by your shirt and threw you to the ground, climbing on top of you and wrapping a hand around your throat. You clawed at his hand and kicked with all your might, finally landing one solid blow to his groin. 

He swayed, and you gathered enough strength to roll him over, pinning him to the ground. 

But you didn’t account for his hands.

As you held his shoulders against the concrete, a shot rang out.

Your abdomen felt warm as the rest of your body felt as if it was stuck in a freezer. Slowly, you rolled off of Randy and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling.

Voices began to echo around you, a muffled sound that mimicked the effect of your head being held underwater. “Agent down, we need a medic!”

Your eyelids fluttered open and closed at a snail-like pace, eyes flickering around the room to try and figure out what was going on.

And then they shot open wide as the burning sensation began, a feeling as if your organs were being shredded apart with red hot knives.

“Y/N, what happened?” 

Your eyes finally focused on Spencer’s face hovering above you, tears in his eyes. “Tis just a flesh wound,” you whispered, your lungs burning.

He glanced between you and the bullet wound in your chest. “Are you quoting Monty Python right now?”

You let out a chuckle, feeling tears begin to sting your eyes. “It’s what I do when I’m panicking. You should know that by now.” Slowly, you reached your hand down to where you felt the pain resonate, eyes growing wide when you felt something wet soak your hand. “Oh my god.”

Tears began streaking down his face, his lip caught in-between his teeth to keep from crying out. 

Without thinking, you reached your hands up to wipe away his tears, a look of terror residing on your face when a dark crimson smeared across his cheeks. “Oh god,” you gasped out, moving to pull your sleeves over your hands and try to wipe away the blood. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” The blood smeared around his cheek, and you felt the room spinning around you. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just breathe for me. Calm down.”

You nodded, desperately trying to gasp in a solid breath, but to no avail. A sob left your lips, and you felt a rush of blood pour down your sides. “I-I can’t.” You shook your head. “I think... I think I’m bleeding out, doc.”

“No, no, don’t say that. You’re gonna be just fine.” He pulled away from your gaze for a moment to search around. “Where the fuck is the medic?!”

“Spence.”

His eyes fell back onto your face, hazel irises boring into yours as tears dripped down his face. You dedicated his face to memory, trying to remember the way his skin felt under your fingertips, the gentle scratch of his stubble, the way his hair would glide between your fingertips, worried that it you would never be able to experience it again.

“I love you,” you choked out, sniffling. “I love you so much.”

He nodded, a crease forming between his brows as he tried his hardest to contain his sobs. “I love you too. So much.”

He felt as if he died when he watched your eyelids slowly flutter closed, and then stopped moving altogether. He continued applying pressure to your wound, feeling your blood soak through his windbreaker and onto his hands.

Suddenly he was shoved away, and he watched in a daze as a group of medics quickly checked your vitals before lifting you on a stretcher and rushing you out of the building. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled behind them, clambering into the back of the ambulance.

They attached an oxygen mask with a bag valve, attempting to pump oxygen into your lungs. He watched as your chest rose and fell, wishing it wasn’t being controlled by someone else.

The tips of your hair twirled between his fingers, a dazed look on his face as his eyes tracked each breath you took. Breathe in, gentle rise. Breathe out, gentle droop. He felt the soft rush of air against his skin, making his heart race under your cheek. 

He didn’t dare move, too worried that if he did, you would wake up. It was rare that he would see you in such a peaceful state, so fragile and unguarded. He wouldn’t dare ruin it. He never knew when it would be the last time he could witness it.

“Her vitals are crashing, she’s going into V FIB!” an EMT shouted, startling him back to the present. “Bring me the AED.” He watched as they applied two wired pads to your chest and turned up a dial, signaling before delivering an electric shock. Your body flinched from the shock, only for it to collapse back down and lay flat. 

He felt like he was going to vomit. His hands were clutching onto your free one, unable to tear his eyes away from your ashen face. 

He couldn’t decide if it would be better if you were in a black void, unaware of anything that was going on, or if you could feel and hear every single thing that was occurring. He mostly just hoped that you weren’t scared.

But the only thought on his mind, when they finally arrived to the ER and he watched you get rushed into the OR, was that he couldn’t live without you.

*** “Spence, you can head home. I’ll take over,” Emily instructed as she stepped into the waiting room, nudging his shoulder slightly.

He just shook his head, staring at the glass windows in front of him that peered into the hallways of the hospital. 

“You need to get some rest,” she persisted, sitting down next to him. “Just go lay down for a few hours, I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“I-I can’t just leave. If something happens...” Spencer mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He couldn’t tell if he was being defensive, or if he was trying to desperately hold himself together. 

“She’s gonna be just fine. She’s a fighter.”

He let out a shuddering breath, his eyes falling closed for a moment. “The survival rate after going into V FIB is 50%.”

“Well, 50% seems like a pretty good probability to me.”

“That doesn’t account for the blood loss or oxygen deprivation. She lost over four pints of blood. The body goes into hypovolemic after losing only two pints. Any more than that, and the body will most likely fall into a coma.” 

Now he understood how everyone else felt when he spewed out facts. It was torturous, unwilling to allow him to slip away from the predicament for even a moment.

The image of your body bleeding out on the dirty floor was imprinted in his mind. Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, there was no way that he could ever forget it.

Emily pursed her lips. “But she’ll be alive. She might be banged up, but she isn’t gone. She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You know, if Y/N were here right now, she’d be yelling at you to go and take a nap.”

He let out a watery chuckle at that, sniffling slightly. “I can’t leave, Emily. Not until I hear something from the doctors.”

She sighed. “Fine. I’m gonna set a timer on my phone for 20 minutes, and you will sleep until that timer goes off. If you get up any time during that, I’m restarting the timer. Deal?”

“Emily-”

“Spencer, you know better than anybody the effects of sleep deprivation on a person. You’re not going to be any use here if you’re tired.”

He clenched his jaw, already feeling his eyelids begin to droop. “Fine. But only 20 minutes.”

***

He never thought that golden could be a feeling, until he met you. His whole being, his whole soul felt as if it was dripping with the warm yellow hue.

He may have felt golden, but you were golden. You were the sun to him, something that he treasured with his whole being but worried he would be blinded by your beauty, turned into mush from your warmth. He still risked it, staring at you for so long so he could memorize every aspect of you before his sight left him.

Your scent of sunshine and sweet morning dew lingered on everything he owned, and he was addicted to it. He could smell it now, swooning over it.

“Your hair’s getting shaggy, doc.”

Spencer hummed, fluttering his eyes open and seeing that his head was laying in your lap, the two of you perched underneath a tree in the park down the road from your shared apartment.

“Yeah? You want me to cut it?” he teased, shifting slightly to look up at you.

You grinned, ruffling his hair slightly before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Never.”

His eyes flickered over your face, taking in every small detail. “You’re so beautiful.”

You scoffed, gently gliding your finger along his jawline. “I can say the same for you, pretty boy.”

“I’m serious.” He huffed, sitting up and taking your hand in his, staring directly into your eyes for a moment. He mimicked your ministrations, taking his finger and tracing along your collarbone, against the angle of your jawbone, down the slope of your nose, and down the dip of your cupid’s bow. His eyes followed his finger, a small wrinkle forming between his brows. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

A grin settled on your face, gently pulling his fingers from your skin and pressing your lips to his fingertips. “What’s got you being so sappy?”

He let out a chuckle, shaking his head slightly before touching his lips to yours. “I’m so in love with you.”

A pleased sigh escaped your lips, and your eyes searched his. “I’m so in love with you too. Now will you please tell me what’s going on?” You shifted into his lap, entwining your arms around his neck and playing with his hair.

“I...” He gulped, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“Spencer.” The corners of your lips crooked into a frown and you rested a hand on his cheek. “What makes you think I’ll ever leave you?”

“Y/N, you’re dying.”

“What do you mean? I’m right here. And I know you’re not a medical doctor, but I know you’re smart enough to know when someone is alive.”

He shook his head, sniffling. “No, you-you’re laying on an operating table right now. This isn’t real. None of this is real.”

“It’s real enough, isn’t it?” 

He shot up with a gasp, immediately burying his head in his hands and letting out a shuddering breath.

“Spence, that was only eleven min-” Emily began.

He ignored her, pushing himself to his feet and propelling himself towards the bathrooms. He stumbled into the bathroom and gripped onto the edge of the sink, sucking in deep breaths until his lungs burned. Bile rose in his throat and he willed himself to keep it down, gaining enough strength to turn on the cold water and splash his face. 

A hand touched his shoulder and he stood up straight in a panic. “Calm down, man, it’s just me,” Derek consoled, holding his hands up. “Are you okay?”

Spencer shook his head fervently, running his hands over his face before pulling them through his hair. “I can’t lose her.”

Derek reached forward, grabbing Spencer’s shoulder and tugging him into a tight hug. ‘’You’re not gonna lose her. She’s strong, and she’s stubborn as all hell. If she’s gonna die, it’s gonna be by her own terms.”

And Spencer sobbed.

***

It had been over four hours, and the entire team still had yet to hear anything from the doctors. The sun had already set, and almost everyone had headed home for the night.

But Spencer was still sat in the waiting room, eyelids drooping lower and lower with each passing moment of silence.

He wanted so badly to sleep, to go back to that peaceful moment in his mind where he could lay with you and forget anything bad ever happened, but he couldn’t let himself. He couldn’t let himself succumb to a fantasy when in reality, you were laying on an operating table with multiple surgeons working to keep you alive. 

“Mr. Reid?”

Spencer rose to his feet at once, all feelings of exhaustion fleeing his body and being replaced with pure adrenaline. “Yes?”

The doctor gave him a curt nod before directing him into the hall. Spencer followed behind him and stood in a nervous silence as he watched her flip through a clipboard.

“She’s alive, and she’s in stable condition,” she explained, looking away from her clipboard.

He felt as if he was floating, a high he never even imagined was possible. 

“But she is in a coma, and probably will remain that way for the next few days.”

And there it was.

“But-But you think she’ll wake up?” Spencer rushed out, shifting from foot to foot.

“Definitely. Her body needs time to rest, but she’ll wake up as soon as she’s ready.” 

Spencer let out a sigh of relief, a small smile residing on his lips. “Thank you, doctor.”

“You’re a lucky man. We almost lost her, but she fought with all she had. She wanted to stay here.”

He knew that her claims were impossible, but there was an inkling in the back of his mind that maybe she was right. So, instead of responding, he just nodded. “Can-” He cleared his throat. “Can I see her?”

The doctor pressed her lips together in thought for a moment before nodding. “Right this way.”

He followed her through the hospital halls, leading him through the winding maze until they stopped in front of room 112. She gestured to the door before retreating, leaving him alone.

All attempts to catch his breath were futile for the moment he stepped through the door, all the air left his lungs. He couldn’t tell if he was staring at your sleeping form in horror or fondness as he inched towards your bedside, settling into the chair next to you.

“You’re alive,” were the only words he could formulate, repeating them like a mantra while he took your hand in his and pressed feather-light kisses to your knuckles. 

 Finally, he let his head rest against the thin blanket on your bed, and his eyes drooped closed. 

Poppies were your favorite flower. They symbolized peace, something neither of you were familiar with due to your jobs.

Spencer never understood how a flower could symbolize something so complex until he opened his eyes.

He was completely, utterly at peace.

You stood in a field of bright red poppies, a white dress cascading around your frame and a megawatt smile on your face.

Sunshine. Golden.

As if out of a scene from a romance movie (one that you probably forced him to watch), he ran through the fields, coming towards you. Once you were within reach, he wrapped both of his arms around your waist and clung onto you like a vice.

A breathless laugh fell from your lips as you returned the hug, letting your arms hook around his neck. “Hi, my love,” you whispered.

He knew none of this was real. He knew that every memory of you was being pulled from his brain all at once and letting him feel a moment of peace.

But he also knew that he wanted to stay here, at least for a little while.

“Hi, my love,” he echoed, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Are you alright?” You pulled away slightly, searching his eyes as you brought one hand to cup his face. “You’re crying.”

“I’m just fine.” He gave you a smile, gently taking your hand from his face and placing your hand in his own. “I’m perfect.”

“Are you sure? Did I do-”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, squeezing your hand gently. “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, letting your shoulders drop. “Sorry, I just... I know you’ve been feeling sad lately. I just want to make sure it isn’t because of me.”

His brows furrowed together, worry lines settling on his forehead. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Because every time you look at me, you cry.”

Those words made his heart drop to his stomach. He knew that this was all in his mind, but it was still your voice. He felt all the hurt, all the guilt. 

“I...” A small sob bubbled in his throat, and he pulled you back into his tight embrace. “I just don’t want to lose you. I’m not ready yet.”

You nodded, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt and holding him as close as you possibly could. “Well, right now, you have me. Is that not enough?”

“But it’s not real. I need the real you.”

“Then you have to wake up, my love.”

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up

“Spencer, wake up.”

His eyes flew open, a hand immediately coming up to rub at them. “What?” he grumbled, holding back a yawn.

“God, I’ve tried waking you up for the past five minutes.”

His eyes flickered up to see a pair of Y/E/C eyes staring back at him.

“You’re awake.”

“I can say the same thing about you, sleepyhead,” you teased, weakly patting his hand. 

“Oh my god. You’re okay.” He pushed himself to his feet and hovered his hands over your face, fearful that if he touched you, you would disappear.

“I’m okay, doc.” Your words were slurred, but that was expected. He still knew what you were saying, and even if he didn’t, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were awake, that you were alive.

He let out an incredulous laugh as he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I thought I lost you.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” You hands slowly reached up, letting your fingers graze along his cheek. “Hi, my love.”

“Hi, my love.” He grinned at you. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be awake for a few more days, at least.”

“I guess I just had to wake up. I couldn’t stand being gone from you that long.” You pulled your lower lip between your teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I-If I wasn’t so cocky, none of this would have happened. You all wouldn’t be wondering whether I’m gonna live or not. I wouldn’t be stuck in a hospital bed with a hole in my chest. You... You wouldn’t be crying.” You gestured to the tears on his cheeks as tears began to stream down your own. “I wouldn’t be crying.”

“Y/N,” he sighed, taking your hand in his and pressing his lips to the back of it. “None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever blame yourself for this.”

You nodded with a sniffle, pulling his hand to your lips and reciprocating his actions. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, letting yourselves take in everything that was happening.

“Once you get released from the hospital and you’re healed, do you want to get married?”

Your eyes widened in shock at his words, searching his face to make sure that he was being honest. “Are you proposing?”

He shrugged, feeling his cheeks begin to burn. “I-I mean I don’t have a ring yet but... I think I am.”

“Well, if you think you’re proposing, I think I’ll say yes.”

Both of your cheeks ached from how wide you were smiling, that smile never faltering when he pressed his lips to yours and let them linger. 

“Can we have poppies at our wedding?” you mumbled against his lips.

He chuckled, nodding.

Pure sunshine.

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

To the anon who requested the school prompts; I attempted to write something about a parent-teacher meeting, but I couldn’t come up with a believable way for both Freddie and Jim to attend, given that Freddie would draw way too much attention. I hope you don’t mind if I skip that one. Here’s your request for Freddie picking up Khaleel from school!

Part 36 of Jimercury Kid series

‘Fucking vultures.’ Freddie muttered under his breath, as he sat with Kashmira in her car and observed the small group of journalists who had gathered at the corner of the street opposite Khaleel’s school.

They always hung around there, holding out hope that the little boy might walk through the gates, and they would finally be able to snap a picture of his face to put on the front page of their shitty tabloids. But they were wasting their time. Special arrangements had been made to ensure that Khaleel always exited the school from the back of the building, where Jim or Terry would be waiting to pick him up. By the time the vermin from News of the World had set up their cameras, their target was long gone.

The school run was something that Freddie had always longed to be involved in. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he just couldn’t help it. He wanted to be able to sit in the car and wait for his little boy to come bouncing through the back doors and into his arms. He wanted to help Khaleel put his seatbelt on and laugh when the child insisted he was a big boy and could do it himself. He wanted to sit in the passenger seat, Khaleel’s bookbag and lunchbox balanced on his lap while his bijou excitedly chatted away about what he got up to in class that day, while Jim turned on the radio and made faces at their son through the rear-view mirror.

He wanted to do what every other parent did. But he couldn’t, because he knew wherever he went the paparazzi would be hot on his tail. All sorts of rumours were still circulating in the press about Kenny’s origins. Some still believed he was the secret lovechild of Freddie and Mary, others reported that he was the result of a one-night stand with a fan and perhaps the worst was a statement made by an anonymous “inside source,” who claimed Freddie had purchased him from the Middle East for over fifty million Indian rupees.

He had resigned himself to the reality that there were some things in Khaleel’s life that he would just have to miss out on. Like end-of-year plays, and parent-teacher meetings, and taking the boy to and from school.

That was until Kash had came up with a rather genius idea.

Freddie’s private car would be easily noticed by the paparazzi. But hers wouldn’t.

‘There he goes.’ Freddie said as the Volvo in front of them pulled away from the pavement and began driving towards the back entrance of the school. ‘Be ready, Kash.’

‘Feels like bloody Mission Impossible.’ Kash laughed, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. ‘I don’t know how you put up with this every day. Why didn’t you just save yourself the trouble and stick to painting?’

Freddie chuckled despite himself. ‘Sometimes I wonder.’

He was glad they could still have conversations like this. They had briefly fallen out of contact after the whole ordeal with social services, but Freddie quickly realised that Kashmira wasn’t the one at fault and she had proved her loyalty to him by telling the truth. Even if they weren’t children anymore, defying their parents was no easy feat and poor Kash was withstanding the worst of the fallout.

‘How are they?’ Freddie asked quietly, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear him. But he should have known better; nothing got past his sister.

‘Not good.’ She replied, still looking out towards the road. ‘They keep asking after you, wanting to know if you’re alright. They ask about Khaleel a lot as well. I never know what to say.’

Freddie felt his jaw clench instinctively. ‘Tell them the truth. It’s been two years and he still has nightmares about what happened. He’s still scared to be left alone and can’t stand to be away from us for too long. It was months before he would go into school without clinging to Jim and begging him not to leave. Dr Atkinson says it may affect him for the rest of his life. You tell them that next time they have the nerve to ask you how Khaleel is doing.’

Kash sighed, glancing down at her hands which were gripping the steering wheel. ‘They really regret what they did, Freddie.’

Freddie rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t start, Kash. If you expect me to forgive them-’

‘No, I don’t.’ His sister cut in, her voice eerily calm. ‘If they had done that to Nathalie and Jamal, I wouldn’t forgive them either. I’m not questioning your decision. I just…’ her hands tightened around the wheel a moment as she lost herself in thought, ‘…I need you to know that they’re truly sorry. I know their apologies mean nothing at this point, but they’re not trying to justify their decisions anymore. They’ve accepted that they did a terrible thing and brought everything that’s happened upon themselves. They’re not asking for forgiveness; they just need you to know that they realise they were wrong.’

Freddie hadn’t anticipated such an answer. He was dumbstruck for a moment, tongue retreating behind his teeth as he allowed her words to sink in. As much as he would deny it, there was still a part of him that longed for the company of his mother and father again; he still found himself lingering by the phone on occasion, half hoping they might call or listening for the buzz of the intercom in case they decided to drop by. Knowing that they were truly sorry didn’t make the pain go away but it did give him an odd sense of comfort.

Before he could respond, he saw the Volvo pulling out onto the road ahead, slowly turning the corner until it was out of sight.

‘Here we go.’ A grin spread across Kash’s face as she belted herself in. ‘Keep your head down.’

Freddie ducked out of view as they passed the huddle of reporters, raising his hand to flip them off before sitting up straight in his seat while Kash cackled like a hyena. They drove up the street and turned the corner where the Volvo was sitting waiting for them.

‘Thank you, Kash.’ Freddie said gently, knowing they only had a limited amount of time before the rest of the students came pouring out onto the street. The last thing he needed was to be chased by a gang of schoolchildren at his age. ‘For this, and for telling me how Mama and Papa are. I appreciate it.’

Kashmira smiled at him, though it looked rather strained. ‘You’re welcome.’ Then she added, almost nervously. ‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Yes.’ Freddie replied, voice almost catching in his throat. ‘I know. I love you too.’

He opened the car door and went to step out, glancing over at the Volvo where Khaleel was sitting in the backseat, bouncing excitedly at the sight of his Baba. Freddie hesitated a moment, before turning to Kash again. ‘Why don’t you and Roger come over for dinner tonight? Bring the kids with you?’

Kashmira’s dark eyes batted in surprise, but she didn’t look displeased. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Jim’s making shepherd's pie tonight and he always makes too much, so…’ He shrugged in a rather lukewarm effort to display indifference, when in fact his heart was hammering painfully. To his relief, Kash smiled.

‘That sounds perfect. I’d love to come.’

‘About six ’clock?’

‘We’ll be there.��

Freddie nodded, the tightness in his chest finally ceasing to be. He wandered if he should embrace her, but decided he wasn’t quite ready for that step and simply said, ‘see you later,’ before shutting the door and making his way over to the Volvo.

‘Baba!’ Khaleel cried as soon as Freddie was near, and he rolled his window down so Freddie could poke his head through and start covering him in kisses. ‘You came, you came!’

‘Yes, I did!’ Freddie blew a raspberry into the child’s neck, making him squeal. ‘We better take you home and get your homework finished – Auntie Kash and your cousins are coming over for dinner.’

Khaleel’s blue-green eyes went wide with joy. ‘Are Dādī and Dādā coming too?’

Freddie’s smile disappeared and he briefly made eye contact with Jim, before saying, ‘I’m sorry, darling. Dādī and Dādā are very busy.’

Khaleel crossed his arms and pouted, ‘they’re always busy.’

‘I know…’ That familiar tightness returned to Freddie's chest, squeezing until it almost hurt to breathe. ‘But let’s not think about that now. Daddy’s making shepherd’s pie, and if you finish your homework on time, you can help him stir the pot.’

This seemed to put the boy in good spirits again and he spent the majority of the car ride chatting away to Freddie about his day as Jim drove them home, careful to keep themselves scarce from any prying eyes. When Khaleel eventually trailed off and turned his attention to the contents of his bookbag, Jim glanced at his husband in the passenger seat and murmured, ‘are you sure you’re okay having Kash over tonight?’

Freddie took a deep breath, staring out the window at the people passing by, not really caring if he was recognised. ‘I can hardly go about the rest of my life pretending she doesn’t exist.’

When this didn’t earn the chuckle he had anticipated, he sighed. ‘None of this is Kash's fault. I know she could have told me sooner about Mama and Papa calling social services, but what matters is that she did tell me. She chose me over them, which must have been the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. I’ve already lost most of my family, I don’t need to lose anymore. It's time to make peace.’

Jim nodded wordlessly, reaching over and gently grasping Freddie’s hand. ‘I’m really proud of you, sweetheart.’

Freddie lifted the Irishman's hand to kiss his knuckles. ‘Thank God somebody is, darling.’

This was a perfect mix of sweet and angsty. Lol at the beginning I thought it'll be about our dads picking their baby up from school and being all cute and adorable, then BAM, came the angst. But I absolutely loved it!

Someone recently asked in the notes of one your drabbles about any lingering trauma that Khaleel feels at this point in the series. I think they've got their answer now. It's plausible really, for a child to experience the after-effects of being so harshly separated from his parents. I can only imagine how painful it must've been for the real Freddie to be isolated from his parents at such a young age. Poor baby.

I am glad Kash and Freddie are mending their relationship. I often get the feeling that Kash was never too involved in Freddie's life, but had Freddie survived his illness, it's possible that they may have grown closer. In the context of what has happened in this universe specifically, it'll be a while before they're completely comfortable with each other. But I am glad that Freddie is making an effort.

The end was so sweet, my heart. The perfect end to all the angst💙

(More drabbles by writer anon)

(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)

[addictedtostorytelling]

Hello! I am a huge fan of your CSI metas! know this might be a tough question, but I'm trying to write a fic and could really use your help. The timeline for the show is confusing at best - but would you happen to be able to shine a light on the dates/length of time around Greg's attack in Season 7, as well as the subsequent Coroner's Inquest? How many weeks do we think have reasonably passed from the time Greg is discharged and returns to work, and the time of the initial trial? I understand there are some big events with the miniature killer arc happening in-between, so it has left me feeling a bit lost. Any help or guesses would be appreciated 🙏❤

hi, anon!

i’m happy to report that i can offer you some pretty exact in-universe dates here:

episode 07x04 “fannysmackin’”: though there is one flub-up in the episode which rather confusingly suggests two different september dates for these events (see here), greg’s attack actually takes place during the predawn hours on 10.12.06, as is proven by a) the dates visible on the evidence photos of the shoeprints, and, b) the overall timeline for csi s7. (the events of episode 07x03 “toe tags” take place on 10.05.06, one week before.) 

episode 07x05 “double-cross”: greg then returns to work on 10.16.06, as is shown by the date on the evidence bag holding the rosary. of the four days between these two episodes, we can’t say exactly how many he spends in the hospital. however, it’s reasonable to assume that given that he has no internal injuries and/or serious mobility issues, he may only be there overnight or two days at most. my guess is that once his doctors feel certain he hasn’t sustained a concussion, they release him to continue his recovery at home. he then goes back to work a day or two later.

episode 07x06 “burn out”: the events of this episode take place on 11.02.06 (as is seen on the evidence photo of the dentures). by now, three weeks have passed since the time of greg’s attack.

episode 07x07 “post mortem”: the events of this episode take place between 11.08.06 and 11.09.06 (as per the date on the surveillance footage). greg’s inquest happens during the day on 11.08.06, with only the final scene of the episode taking place after midnight on 11.09.06. that so, about twenty-eight days have passed between greg’s attack and the time of the inquest. 

episodes 07x08 “happenstance” to 07x17 “fallen idols”: the events of these episodes take place between 11.15.06 and 03.06.07 in show time. (if you need any of these dates specifically, just let me know, and i can provide them.)  

episode 07x18 “empty eyes”: greg receives the news that the city has settled with the james family for $2.5 million on 03.29.07 (with the date coming from an evidence photo of one of the dead girls). by now, over five months have passed since he was initially attacked.

episode 07x19 “big shots”: the next events of the demetrius james saga take place between 04.05.07 and 04.07.07 (as per the evidence photo of the window and the evidence bag containing the seatbelt adjuster fragment). from this point forward, greg’s storyline is pretty much concluded.

if you need any more specific details, just let me know.

good luck with your fic! happy writing.

[qvid-pro-qvo]

to navigate when you’re lost.

a long car rides with you piece. derek morgan, emily prentiss, spencer reid, & bau!gender neutral reader. 

word count: 1590

rating: e for everyone, because every team has some growing pains along the way (no trigger warnings). 

-

It’s Morgan who realizes it first, and you’re ashamed to say it’s… partially your fault. Not entirely, because they handed you the map to begin with, and fully expected you to have a geography or cartography specialty hidden in your file.

But the rest of it? The getting lost? Yeah. That’s all you, you’re pretty sure.

You’d just started to really get in a groove with the rest of the team, too. More and more, black-and-white words on paper about each of the men and women you got to see on a day-to-day turned into full-color portraits, with each member lighting up like neon signs as you started to really, truly get to know them.

They’d started joking with you, too, at the very least. Which was definitely a step in the right direction. It’d been the evidence of the adjustment period, and you had thought you were making strides towards full integration. 

But now, in this damn car, you’re lost, and you’re the reason the four of you are lost, and Morgan realizes it first. Which definitely throws a wrench in the whole “smooth transition” thing. He heaves out a sigh with both his hands on the wheel, glances over at you with your brow furrowed and your finger on a point somewhere west of a river you were supposed to following, and lifts a hand to rub it over his face. His sunglasses end up on top of his head, so you feel every piece of his stare. It’s not a glare. Not quite yet.

You have a feeling it’ll get there eventually, though.

“We’re lost,” he says, and you can’t help but feel your hackles rise a bit. Because you know that yes, you don’t exactly know where the three of you are, but you also know that you’re still on an actual road, so. It’s gotta be on the map somewhere.

“We’re just taking a detour,” you try to say, but Derek’s eyes hit you again and you shrink a little into the seat, just a little. Not enough to look anything more than a readjustment, you’re sure.

“One wrong turn and we’re on gravel,” he points out, and you let out a sigh.

“Like you could do any better?” It’s sharper than you wanted it to be, but Derek doesn’t shy away from it, just looks back out ahead at the landscape. It’s desert, wide and open, and you feel yourself suffocate a little at the cloud of dirt you can see in the rearview. “Sorry, but… okay, look, it’s fine. We’ll be fine, but I don’t know what made me the map expert in this car when we have someone who makes geographical profiles for fun in the backseat.”

“You’re shotgun,” Prentiss says from the backseat, piping in because she can, the smirk on her face definitely showing how much fun she’s having with this. “Shotgun navigates.”

Your jaw clenches, and once more you fan out the map with remarkable ability, considering no paper cuts have been acquired yet. Your eyes scan the damn thing, the grids blurring just a little, to find which highway is the one you’re cruising down at breakneck pace. “Well, if I had known that, I wouldn’t have sat shotgun.”

“I’m just saying that I swear I’ve seen that damn cactus three times now,” Morgan points out, as the SUV zips one with a particularly odd shape. “I think we’re going in circles.”

“We’re going in a straight line,” Reid returns, “so really that cactus just looks like a cactus.” That earns him the real glare from Morgan, and you’re suddenly sure that if Spencer was in the front seat he’d also get a thump on the head.

“Shut it, boy genius, and do us all a favor. Take the map.”

“I’m not gonna take the map,” Reid says, and you turn in your seat to give him a pleading look.

“Reid, come on, please. Let me resign as navigator and step away with dignity.” He seems to almost consider it, which means that your puppy-dog eyes have advanced a level or two, but it doesn’t finish the job.

“I’m not gonna take the map.” All of a sudden, he has three pairs of eyes on him, even Morgan’s which earns him a smack on the shoulder from you. He just looks among the three of you with indignation. “Look, I always navigate, and I don’t want to navigate this time, I was having a perfectly fine time in the backseat –”

“So just because you don’t want to navigate you’re gonna leave us stranded in the middle of the desert?” It’s Prentiss again, and her voice is so deadpan that Reid looks at her with a furrowed brow. She lets out a soft sigh, shaking her head. There’s the smallest quirk of her lips when you glance over, showing how much she’s teasing. “I don’t know, Reid, seems pretty selfish.”

The look he gives her is an open-mouthed one. “Just because the rest of you don’t know how to read a map –”

Morgan’s voice interrupts easily. “I know how to read a map, but I’m driving the damn car, Reid.”

“When you know you’re the best navigator and the destination is in the middle of a desert –” Emily tries.

“I was re-reading the case files!”

On and on they begin to go, with Morgan continuing conversations by looking in the rearview mirror, Prentiss’s eyes getting wider and wider and more and more amazed, and Reid’s voice hitting that particular pitch it does when he’s flustered. It begins a vicious cycle, and each time it goes around again your eyes just gaze at the map, trying to find new meanings in lines you’ve scanned a million times.

Your eyes scan the border, almost defaulting to that position. You wish, more than anything, that exactly where your car is would appear on the thing, but that luxury is not available to you. So the tuning out of the rest of the team happens as your eyes scan the damn map.

At first, it’s a normal recognition of numbers and letters marking out grid points. It’s the cycle you’ve fallen into over the whole trip, and you hope to find new meaning in what you see. There’s nothing new, of course, and you start gazing out the window to catch an exit sign when you glance down again. And that’s when you see it, and it hits you like a truck, makes you start laughing hysterically, loud enough to interrupt Prentiss’s cry of “excuse me.”

You sound hysterical. Bonkers, mad, senile. All of those words describe the sound that comes out of your mouth, a half-cackle, half-wheeze, half-gasp for air as you fall back against the seatback.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me.”

There’s a silence that falls over the cabin, three pairs of eyes turning to gaze at you. Well, relative silence. Your laugh is sustaining, pitch heightening, tears falling just a little.

“Were – oh, fuck me.”

There’s silence. All you can hear is tires on worn highway. The scratch of dirt and pebbles as they catch underneath the vehicle.

“What,” Prentiss states.

Your voice finally comes together for a coherent statement, after a few more seconds of struggle. “Were any of you going to tell me this map isn’t even for this damn state?”

When you start cackling again you feel the map get snatched out of your hands. There are the furious sounds of folding and re-folding as you struggle to pull yourself together, and Reid’s hands soon join Prentiss’s in finding the first part of the fold-out so their eyes can scan the words with horror. Morgan’s driving comes to a near-sudden halt, and he pulls off onto the shoulder to pause.

Your laughter is finally dying down, only so you can breathe a little bit – it’s the simultaneous realization that it is not all your fault and that it is all of your faults that had broken you so completely. When the situation is confirmed by Morgan, who just holds the map with disgust, you’re calmed down enough that you can start functioning again.

“I’ll – I’ll call Hotch,” you offer, and you reach for your phone. “Let him know that we’re, uh, running behind.”

“No,” Morgan and Prentiss say simultaneously, and their heads are shaking.

“I do not need that disapproval right now,” Morgan explains.

You can’t help your little huff, an unintentional mirror of his tone earlier. “Well. Do you have another plan?” you retort.

There’s silence while plans brew. The shoulder of the highway sits on your right, three brains on overdrive on your left. You just lean against the window, looking amongst the three of them as best as you can with your seatbelt still on.

“I’ll… call Garcia?” Reid offers next, and there’s a noise of assent from Emily as he pulls out his phone.

“Four profilers and we can’t even read the words on the first fucking page,” Morgan scoffs, and there’s chuckles from the rest of the crew. The tension is gone, leaking from the space like there’s a cracked window, leaving nothing but exhaustion and tired eyes, a half-full tank of gas and a sudden U-turn as Garcia begins navigating the four of you to the right spot.

And when the four of you arrive one more hour later at the right spot, neutrality the weapon of choice as you approach the waiting officers, you can’t help the curl of your lips as you fall into step next to them.

Derek did call you a profiler, after all.

-

tag list:  @genevievedarcygranger // @quillvine // @falcon-arrows // @afuckingshituniverse // @sercyan // @sparklingkeylimepie // @alexxcorona113 // @mandyandy22 // @thedeaddrop // @angelsbabey // @lolychu // @icyprincess // @gabbygabbie // @cevanswhre // @roses-and-grasses // @baadmaxx // @ssaic-jareau // @mooneylupinblack // @rachelxwayne // @dilaudidwinchester // @stylesboy // @grandpascurtains // @softbibxtch // @winterscaptain // @hurricanejjareau // @averyhotchner // @crazyshannonigans // @chelseyjoyce

[yikesharringrove]

Zoo date as requested by @xgardensinspace

Here is a link to my post about Harringrove for BLM, and here is a link to Writers/Artists Against Police Brutality

Here’s also a link to the Masterlist of Harringrove for BLM coutesy of @harringrovetrashh

Thank you all for organizing, participating, and donating. 

-

Modern au

Please ignore my rhino facts I love them so much

Steve’s encounter with + reaction to the rhino is based on me from a few years ago

-

“Wait, this is, this is where you’re taking me?”

Billy was pulling into a spot in the parking lot of the San Diego Zoo and Safari Park.

“Yeah. You’ve never been to this one, and I know how much you love a zoo.” Steve was vibrating in his seat.

This was one of the best zoos in the country.

He chucked off his seatbelt, making Billy laugh as he scrambled out of the car.

He danced around as he waited for Billy to grab the backpack he had put together for the day, before taking his wrist and dragging him to the ticket counter.

“Baby, I already got us tickets.” Billy shuffled him to the gate, jostling him past the birds at the beginning of the park. “We’re on a schedule, Pretty Boy. Gotta be there in ten.” He led Steve to the Ranger Base, walking up to the ticket window.

“Hi, we’re in the 10 am caravan group.” The woman behind the counter took their tickets, pointed them to another group a little ways away.

“Wait, are we doing one of the tours?” Steve was sitting close next to Billy, all pressed up against him. Billy kissed his forehead.

“You’ll see.”

Their tour leader began explaining a few of the rules of the caravan to them, shuffled them aboard, and set off across the park, leading to the large open African Plains.

Steve cooed at all the buffalo, taking picture after picture of any baby animals they saw, getting yelled at when he excitedly almost stood up in the moving truck.

“So, a few things about feeding the giraffes.” Billy could feel Steve begin wiggling next to him. “You each get three pieces of lettuce. Stand like this, hold the lettuce out, and let the giraffe take it from you. Do not touch the giraffe’s face or neck or anything.”

“Wait, Bill we get to, to feed them?” People had formed a line as one of the giraffes came loping slowly towards them.

“Yeah, this is like, the extra bitchin’ tour. You get to see all the animals real close, and feed ‘em and stuff.” Billy’s mom had taken him when he was little.

Steve was staring up at the giraffe, the first few people posing as the people they were with took pictures of them with the giraffe. Billy pushed him forward a little, taking about a fucking million pictures of Steve looking like a little kid, so fucking excited to feed the tall baby. Billy gave him one of his lettuce pieces so that he would keep smiling like that.

The caravan rattled on, transitioning to the Asian Savanna.

“Oh, my, God. Bill look at the rhino. Bill look.” Steve was slapping his arm. The guide laughed at him.

“You a fan of rhinos?”

“I love them. They’re my favorite.”

“Well, you’re in luck.” The cart stopped as the huge black rhino began lumbering towards them. “So, to feed Edison, our adult male Indian Black Rhino, wait for him to open his mouth, and toss a piece of apple in there for him. Everyone gets four pieces.”

Steve’s eyes were huge.

“You can touch his horn gently, but do not touch his eyes or nose. And he has the jaw power to rip your hand right off, so don’t put any fingers in his mouth.”

Steve’s fingers were tight around Billy’s wrist.

“Indian black rhinos come from northern India, Nepal, and Easter Pakistan. They have one thick horn, whereas African white rhinos have two long thin ones. Unlike most horned animals, a rhino’s horn is not made from bone. It is made from keratin, the same as your hair and fingernails, so it’s essentially like one big fingernail on it’s face.” Steve was nodding along. He knew probably every fact about the different kinds of rhinos. “White rhinos are typically larger, but the black male rhino has an average weight of nearly five thousand pounds.”

The rhino had approached the caravan. Steve was titled over the edge, staring at the thing.

“The Indian black rhino is now longer classified as endangered after the conservation efforts in the Indian subcontinent over the past two or so decades, unlike the northern white rhinos, with a population of two. Here at the San Diego Zoo and Safari Park, we are making conservation efforts in our frozen zoo, where we keep genetic samples from thousands of species. We are currently working on a way to artificially inseminate a female black rhino, or a southern white rhino with a northern white rhino fetus in order to try and grow the population that way.”

Steve was hanging onto his every fucking word.

They let everyone line up before them, Steve was too busy just fucking staring at the animal while he listened to the guide’s speech to move, apparently.

“See, this is why I got us on this one. Knew you’d lose your damn mind if you got to feed a rhino.” The guide handed Steve a few extra pieces of apple, shooting him a wink.

Billy stood behind him as he leaned over the side of the caravan, tossing apple into the rhino’s mouth, patting his horn.

“You’re the sweetest baby in the world. I love you so much. You are perfect, and amazing.” Billy stifled a laugh as he filmed Steve.

When he finally stood up he was fucking holding back tears.

“I just, I love them so much.”

“I know, Baby.” He put one arm around Steve’s shoulder on the ride back to the rest of the zoo.

Steve must’ve thanked the guide about a million times before they set off to do a loop around the park, stopped for close to twenty minutes in the petting zoo so that Steve could pet a little black goat.

Billy lost his fucking mind in the reptile house, spent at least a few minutes with his nose pressed to the glass of every terrarium.

“Stevie, fucking look at that tiny baby.”

The tiny baby in question was a twelve foot anaconda.

Steve kept his distance as Billy cooed over some scorpions, called a Goliath birdeater tarantula a beautiful boy. Steve knew his taste in animals was odd, but then They passed by the giant old tortoises, and Billy went berserk.

“They look like sweet little men. What amazing gentlemen. They are kind and wise.” He was passionately gesturing at the creatures, leaning over the rail around the enclosure.

Steve can’t fault Billy for going all soft at the desert cat nursery, as Steve was shoulder to shoulder with him as they smushed up against the glass to look at the tiny little things.

In the Australia section of the park, Billy only used an Aussie accent, would make Steve laugh because it was actually really good. He would make his voice all deep and say wallaby all drawn out, just to make Steve’s smile get bigger. Steve gasped when they saw the platypus.

“I didn’t think these were even real.”

“Are you serious?” Billy still had that fucking accent.

“Yeah. I mean, they sound so silly. They’re like, a duck and a beaver and a snake. They’re weird little hybrids with venom, Bill. Venom.” They watched the awkward little thing waddle across the field.

“It’s kinda growin’ on me.”

Steve got an amazing picture of Billy with about fourteen butterflies on him in the butterfly pavilion, And Steve got shit on by the parakeet they were trying to feed.

They hit the bird show on their way back to the entrance, would laugh and grab each other’s hands as large birds would swoop overhead.

They finally left the park after spending a minute at the gift shop, Billy surprising Steve with a soft stuffed rhino at the exact moment Steve presented him with a floppy stuffed tarantula. Billy couldn’t wait to put them on their bed.

Billy threw his arm around Steve’s shoulders as they walked to the car, the sun beginning to sink.

“That was a real good day.” Steve was slurping at the remains of an ice cream cone.

“For sure one for the books.” The tops of Billy’s shoulders on either side of his tank top were a little red from the sun.

“Thank you for bringing me. You know how much I love zoos. And getting to, getting to touch and feed a rhino, Billy that made my fucking life.” He kissed the side of Steve’s head.

“I’m glad, Sweet Thing.”

[vsquadgoals]

Little Miracle (H.H)

Warning: Mentions of infertility, and IVF

Summary: Y/n telling her fiance Heath that she’s pregnant. 

5 Days... 5 days whole days. Y/n was supposed to get her period 5 days ago. Her and her fiancé Heath have been trying to have a baby for almost a year with no luck and it was starting to really worry Y/n, until now. Y/n was in the guest bathroom with a camera propped up on the bathroom counter while she sat on the floor in front of it. “Hi everyone. I know what you’re thinking why are you on the bathroom floor and where is Heath?” She took breath tears prickling in her eyes. “So, Heath and I have been trying to get pregnant for almost a year now and I’ve filmed intros like this a million times but you’ve never seen them because it didn’t turn out the way we would have hoped. So, if you’re watching this video then that means my feelings are real.” She wiped a tear that fell from her eye. “My period is 5 days late, and I’ve been completely exhausted for about a week now but those are my only symptoms.” Y/n pauses for a second overwhelmed by her emotions. She puts her forehead against her knees that she’s been holding to her chest and a few sobs leave her lips. When she looks back at the camera her eyes are red, and her face is a little flushed. She wipes her face with her t shirt before continuing. “I’m in the guest bathroom because it’s very early and Heath is still sleeping so I don’t want him to hear me because if I am pregnant, I want to surprise him. So,” She checks her phone, “I have another minute on my timer until I can look at the test.” She runs her fingers through her hair. “This has been really hard on us. When you’re trying to start a family with the person you love and it’s just not happening, but you see it happening for so many other people it breaks your heart and its very discouraging. Heath and I are very healthy people, we take good care of our bodies and we’ve been doing everything that we can to try to make it happen without having to get help.” Tears are now streaming down Y/n’s cheeks and she doesn’t bother to stop them anymore. “It’s also hard when your family and friends are constantly asking you ‘So, when are you guys going to have a baby?’ but it’s not their fault, they’re just excited and they know how badly we want to start our family. But if it doesn’t happen for us this month we’re going to go to the doctors and start IVF treatments.” She has to stop again sobs leaving her lips. She closes her eyes and puts her head against the wall behind her. “Please, Please.” She whispers to herself. “Please let this be positive.” Y/n sighs and wipes her eyes and bites her lip when her timer chirps quietly next to her, she turns off the timer and looks at the camera and tries her best to smile. “I guess it’s time, here goes nothing.” She takes a deep breath and picks up the test closing her eyes. She says a few silent prayers and decides to show the camera first, she places the test in front of the camera not able to see the results because she has the viewfinder closed. She takes a few more breathes before turning the test around and looking at it herself.  

Y/n breaks down immediately, she’s sobbing on the bathroom floor her hand that isn’t holding the test clamps over her mouth trying to stay quiet. She composes herself as much as possible before looking back at the camera tears still streaming uncontrollably down her face. “It’s positive.” She whispers biting her lip to keep it from quivering. “Oh my gosh.” She breathes smiling wide. “Oh my gosh how am I going to tell Heath?” She giggles and shakes her head holding the test close to her chest a few more sobs slipping past her lips. She looks at the camera. “Heath, I love you so much Bear, you’re going to be the best daddy in the whole world.” She kisses the lens of the camera before turning it off. Y/n sits on the bathroom floor staring at the test tears pouring down her cheeks until her legs go numb. She finally stands and sighs, she splashes her face with cold water and tries to clean herself up before she leaves the bathroom. She hides the test under the sink in the guest bathroom, somewhere Heath would never find it. When y/n comes out of the bathroom she puts her camera back on the counter, thankfully she had her own so Heath would never look through it and find the footage.  

Y/n is standing in her and Heath’s shared walk in closet picking out clothes for the day when Heath walks in, he wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her shoulder. “Morning Bear.” She says smiling trying to act as normal as possible. “Morning.” He mumbles against her shoulder his voice still deep from sleep. “We have the podcast to do later right?” She asks as she picks out a plain white t shirt and a pair of lose fitting boyfriend jeans to wear today. Heath let’s go of her and nods starting to pick out his own outfit for the day. Heath picked out his usual outfit, a t shirt and a pair of shorts. “So, I’m gonna run a few errands before the podcast but I’ll be back in time for it.” Y/n says before kissing Heaths cheek and heading toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. Heath followed behind her. “Want me to come with you?” He asks as she gets into the shower, Y/n mentally cursed herself trying to come up with an excuse for why she had to go alone. “Um... no that’s okay, Zane and Matt usually come early to hangout before the podcast so you should be here because I don’t know how long It’ll take.” She says loud enough for him to hear her over the shower. Heath nods and starts getting ready for the day.  

It was about an hour later when Y/n is done getting ready, she finds Heath in his office doing some stuff on his computer. Y/n sits on his lap and kisses his lips, Heath wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her back smiling against her lips. “I’ll be back in time for the podcast I promise.” She says after they separate from the kiss. Heath nods and pecks her lips a few more times. “Be safe cutie. I’ll see you soon.” Heath says as she leaves the office. “I love you bear.” She calls over her shoulder hearing a faint “I love you too.” from Heath. Y/n lets out a sigh of relief, she grabs her purse and camera from the counter before she leaves the house closing the front door behind her. Once she was in her Jeep, she props the camera on her dashboard and turns it on starting to record. She puts her seatbelt on and smiles at the camera before backing out of the driveway and heading toward Target.  

“Well hello again friends.” She says talking to the camera keeping her eyes on the road. “I’m back and a lot more composed then the last time you saw me which was a few hours ago. I’m still in shock I think, I also am the only person that knows so it doesn’t feel real yet.” She bites her lip and smiles shaking her head. “I’m on my way to Target, Heath is still at home, today is a podcast filming day so I told him to stay home while I went to the store. I’m going to get him the stuff to surprise him and tell him that he’s going to be a daddy.” She squeals and smiles wide super excited. “So, my plan is to get a box and to put little baby shoes or something in it with a t shirt that says ‘Papa Bear’ with the pregnancy test and a note that says, ‘Hey dad! Due date to be determined.’ Hopefully I’ll be able to get everything at Target cause I need to get back to film the podcast. I’m also going to get myself a t shirt that says, ‘Mama Bear’.” Y/n can’t wipe the smile off of her face as she talks to the camera. “I will check back in with you all at Target.” She turns off the camera and puts it into her purse.  

Y/n climbs back into her Jeep after leaving Target with all of her bags. She puts the camera back on the dashboard and starts filming. “So, I tried to film inside of Target and got yelled at of course.” She rolls her eyes and chuckles. “So, I’ll show you everything I got, thankfully they had everything.” She holds up the two t shirts one by one, before holding up a pair of brown bear baby booties and squealing. “Aren’t these the cutest things you’ve ever seen?!” She asks excited. “And then I just got a little blank index card and some markers to write the note and I got the box, and I have the test at home.” She explains and smiles wide into the camera. “It’s going to be so cute right?” Y/n sighs happily. “I can’t believe this is finally happening.” She says biting her lip not wanting to cry again, she fans her face and giggles. “I’ve already cried WAY too much in this video!” She says shaking her head. “Welp! I think I’ll try to film the box all put together before I surprise Heath later tonight. If I don’t explode from keeping this to myself before then.” She shuts the camera off and takes the time now to set most of the box up, so she doesn’t have to do too much at home and risk Heath walking in on her. She writes the note, sets up the box placing the ‘Papa Bear’ t shirt on the bottom, the baby booties on top with the note and then she just had to add the pregnancy test. Y/n also got some toiletries stuff that they needed at the house and a few groceries just so it didn’t look suspicious when she came home empty handed.  

Y/n put the box into the Target bag with her t shirt and put it on the floor of the passenger seat. She called Heath once she pulled out of the parking space. “Hey Y/n/n.” He said once he answered the phone. Y/n smiled, “Hi bear, I should be home shortly. Are Zane and Matt there yet?” She asks praying they were so it would distract Heath a little when she got to the house. “HEY BABY!!!!” She heard Zane yelling in the background causing her to giggle. “Does that answer your question?” She giggles again. “Yes. Okay well I should be home very soon. I just have to put the groceries and stuff away before we can start recording when I get home.” She tells him hoping it’ll buy her some time to finish the box and hide it when she got back. “Okay sounds good. I love you; I’ll see you soon.” “I love you too Bear.” She says before he hangs up the phone.  

Y/n brings all the bags inside leaving the one with the box for last, she brings it into the guest bathroom upstairs along with a package of toilet paper and puts the pregnancy test she had hidden in there in the box, she turns her camera on and films the box whispering to the camera. “So, this is the finished product.”

She whispers before hiding it and putting some of the toilet paper in there and putting the rest in their bathroom connected to their bedroom. She makes her way back downstairs and puts the rest of the stuff away before going to the podcast room to meet with the boys. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” She says hugging Zane and Matt before kissing Heath’s lips quickly. “No problem y/n/n.” Heath says as she sets up the audio and Matt sets up the cameras making sure they’re all recording and have enough space on the memory card. Once everything is set up and mics are checked Y/n smiles at Heath and Zane. “We’re ready and recording.” She says causing them to smile and nod starting their intro and the ball is rolling. It takes every bone in her body to not say anything about being pregnant the whole podcast even when Matt brings it up asking the two of them when they’re going to have a baby. The question causes Heath to frown and shrug. “We’re trying guys, we have been for a while. Hopefully it happens soon, and we don’t have to go through IVF.” He says before glancing over at Y/n giving her a sad smile. “It’ll happen soon I hope, I just don’t want to do IVF because it’s so hard on your body and it makes it so much more stressful. My cousin did it and it worked thankfully but she said it was awful and a very tiring, and hard process.” Y/n says shrugging biting her lip. Matt and Zane frown nodding before changing the subject not wanting to upset the couple. Heath blows Y/n a kiss and she smiles returning the gesture.

Finally, the podcast is over, and they turn off all the equipment and Y/n takes the memory cards from the cameras and sends the audio to her computer in the office so she can edit the podcast tomorrow. Matt and Zane hang around and they have dinner together, it’s around 8:30 when the boys finally leave the house.  Heath is downstairs cleaning everything up while Y/n is upstairs, her heart is racing she’s so nervous. She sets up the camera in their bedroom where Heath won’t see it and gets the box from the bathroom along with the t shirt she got herself which she hides in their closet. Once everything is set up how she wants it and she presses record on the camera she goes to the top of the stairs. “Bear? Can you come to the bedroom?” Heath makes his way to the bedroom where Y/n is standing holding the box behind her back. “Sit on the bed.” She says biting her lip nervously. “What’s going on?” He chuckles sitting on the bed. “I saw something at the store, and I had to get it for you.” She tells him handing him the box which is has a small piece of tape keeping it closed. “Don’t shake it.” She warns when he takes it. Heath chuckles and smiles at her when she sits on the bed making sure not to get in the way of the camera which she hopes Heath hasn’t noticed, but his eyes have been glued to her since he came into the bedroom.  

“Y/n, you know you never have to get me anything.” he says pecking her lips, she smiles and shakes her head. “You’re going to love this, I promise. Now open it already.” She says giggling. Heath rolls his eyes and opens the box, his heart immediately starts racing and tears are streaming down his face, he looks at Y/n who’s already practically sobbing. “Really?” He whispers small sobs escaping his lips. Y/n smiles through her tears and nods her head. “I found out this morning.” She says her voice cracking a little. Heath pulls her onto his lap and buries his face into her chest sobbing. They stay like that for a while, just holding each other and crying. “How did you keep this to yourself all day?” He finally asks looking up at her. She shakes her head and shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s been killing me, and then when Matt brought it up earlier, I thought I was going to explode, especially how sad you got.” Y/n says giggling and pecking Heath’s lips. Heath picks up the ‘papa bear’ shirt and smiles wide. “I love this.” Y/n giggles and climbs off his lap and grabs hers from the closet and holds it up showing him when she gets back to the bed. Heath smiles wide and shakes his head. “That’s so god damn adorable.” He puts the shirt down and pulls her close by her hips and kisses her belly. “Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for you little one.” He says against her still very unpregnant looking belly, but it still causes her eyes to fill with tears. Y/n smiles and pulls away from his grasp and gets the camera from its hiding spot and points it toward her fiancé. “So, tell the people how you’re feeling about becoming a dad.” she says smirking behind the camera at his surprised look. “You filmed that? God, I knew I was marrying you for a reason.” He teases causing the two of them to chuckle. “I’m so excited, I can’t wait to have a family with the love of my life.” Heath says looking more at her then the camera. “I love you bear” she says turning the camera off after he says it back.  

They lay in the bed holding each other for a while tears coming every once and a while. Heath is the first one to break the silence. “So, if you recorded this, did you record you finding out?” he asks looking down at her. Y/n nods which causes Heath to smile wide. “Can we watch it? I wanna see.” Y/n nods again. “Yeah sure. It’s a lot of crying though.” She says warning him as she takes her camera and they go into the office. Heath sits at the desk and Y/n sits on his lap plugging in the memory card and bringing up the footage from this morning. “I don’t know how much of it I’ll put in, its long and really a lot.” Heath nods and kisses her shoulder. “Whatever you’re comfortable with mama.” He says the name causing her to smile wide. Once she has the video pulled up, she presses play and leans back into Heath whose arms are wrapped tightly around her waist while he watches.  

Heath has tears streaming down his face as he watches the pain in his fiancé's eyes in the beginning of the video, he of course knew that it was hard on her trying to get pregnant, but he didn’t realize how badly she was hurting. He also had no idea how many times she had filmed herself taking tests and them being negative, she always took tests without Heath because she wanted to surprise him. Most of the time she was alone except one time she took one and Kristen was with her, the two of them cried together for almost an hour. Kristen had been Y/n’s saving grace during this year, she was always there for her to comfort her and give her someone to talk to. Y/n would talk to Heath, but she knew it was hard for him too, so she never wanted to make things worse or risk him wanting to give up. Heath holds her tighter; he watches her hold the positive test up to the camera and you can very clearly see two dark pink lines. “Glad that was in focus.” She mumbles causing Heath to chuckle a little. He cries as he watches her reaction after seeing the test, all of the sadness leaving her body and pure happiness and relief replacing it.  

Y/n closes the video when it ends and takes out the card putting it back in her camera. “You have to post the whole thing.” Heath tells her wiping his face with his hands. Y/n looks at him confused. “You think so?” Heath nods and kisses her shoulder. “I think it will help a lot of people, let them know that if they’re going through something similar, they aren’t alone.” Heath explains, Y/n nods and kisses Heath. “You’re right, I love you.” She whispers against his lips. He cups her cheek and smiles. “I love you more. Now let’s go get some sleep.” He turns off the computer before standing from the chair picking Y/n up bridal style causing her to giggle the whole way to their bedroom, he finally puts her down once they’re in the room allowing her to do her nighttime routine. Heath is in bed when she finally finishes and lays next to him. Heath wraps his arms around her and lays his head on her stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you little one. I’m going to be the best dad I possibly can.” He says softly kissing her stomach. Y/n smiles wide and runs her hands through Heaths hair as he whispers to their little miracle growing inside of her.  

A/n: Let me know if you guys want this to me a series or something! I kinda am obsessed and wanna cry after writing this. 

[tempesrature]

IDOL | Chapter 5 [Unfinished]

Platinum x Ride or Die (AU) Crossover

Pairings: (Major) Ride or Die | Logan x Ellie (Minor) Platinum | M!Raleigh x Cadence Warnings: PG13+ Word Count: 11k+ A/N: I can’t even begin to apologize that I’m leaving this story unfinished. I tried to finish it, I really did but school is just so heavy right now that I barely have time to do anything else. And as I’ve said, the passion isn’t there anymore. I’ll post up to whatever I’ve written and if given the time, I’ll definitely come back to finish it. If you decide to drop this story, I completely understand. I’m sorry that I let you down :(  @troublemakerinspace @raleiighcarrera @harrys-wheezys @raleeeighcarreras

“Wow, when you said you’d pick me up I thought you meant your manager was going to drive us.”

“The option was definitely there,” Logan grins as he pushes himself off of the yellow and black-striped 2005 Devore GT to stand in front of her. “But I thought it would be nice if I drive.”

Ellie chuckles as she makes her way to the passenger’s door and takes her seat just as Logan slides into the driver’s seat.

“Are you a good driver?” Ellie asks teasingly as she buckles her seatbelt. “If I get into a car accident and Mona finds out, she’ll call the ambulance and tell it to turn around.”

“I’m a great driver,” Logan chuckles as he revs the engine and he pulls out into the road. “Do you trust me?”

Ellie blinks at him for a moment before a smile tugs on her lips. “Weirdly enough, yes.”

The smile on Logan’s face strums the little tiny strings of her heart. It’s absurd how good he looks behind the wheel. If he was handsome during the any normal setting, it’s magnified by tenfold at how easy and comfortable he is as he drives. She tries not to stare at him, telling herself that she has set ground rules for how she’ll interact with Logan, but she seems to be breaking them every minute she’s in his presence.

“As an honored guest of the Devore, you have the privilege of picking the song.”

Ellie chuckles as she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her playlist. “Do you treat every passenger like this?”

“Only the pretty ones,” He glances at her with a devilish smile and a small wink.

She ducks her head to hide away the blush before her eyes light up at the instrumental track of Candy. She had asked Micah to send it to her so she could practice a little on her own before promotions truly start and they’ll have to start appearing on TV to sing it. She clicks on the song and the intro of the synth fills the car and a smile pulls on Logan’s lips.

“Logan, let’s do it live.”

“Huh?”

Logan barely has time to register her words when she starts to sing the intro of the song as she dances and does small body rolls in time with the beat. Logan lets out a laugh and he glances at her in amusement as he listens to her and waits for his cue.

Their voices fill the inside of the car—teasing, playful, flirty—and Ellie feels light and free. She’s never had this before, someone she can sing along with without the pressure of hitting the right note or conveying the right emotions. Even when she’s singing with Raleigh or Cadence, there’s always a certain standard she has to hold herself around them. After all, her voice croaking in front of those two would send her into a spiral of embarrassment.

But she doesn’t have the same worry with Logan.

Cadence had told her of this feeling—the feeling of being able to sing with someone that you’re so in tune with that it feels natural when there’s only you, the other person and the music. Cadence said that she has that with Raleigh.

And now…Ellie can admit a little that she just might have it with Logan.

The fourth verse comes in and he glances at her briefly, their gaze locking, and she grins as they sing out the next lines together in a perfect blend of light and husky.

I say, I want to be clear and simple I want to adjust just for you, oh yeah I'll give you something original I know how complicated you are

Logan attempts the sustained high note in the bridge and Ellie rolls her eyes because of course he still has excellent breathing control and can let out a perfect G#4 note even while seating down. At this point, Ellie feels like there’s nothing this guy can’t do.

The song finally finishes the last of its note and the playlist jumps to the next song on her list, a slow and soothing song from Cadence’s new album. A comfortable silence settles between them and Ellie is once again amazed that even in the silence, it doesn’t feel awkward or stifled.

“I’m probably the luckiest fan in the world,” Logan says as he turns into an intersection. “I get to hear you sing live with only me as the audience.”

Ellie smiles. “Don’t sell yourself short. I’m pretty lucky to hear you sing live as well. You have a great voice.”

“Thanks,” He chuckles a little as he stops at a red light. “I’m really glad that I got to do this collab with you Ellie.”

“Me too,” She leans back and lays her head on the window. “Which reminds me. I never got to ask. Why the sudden genre shift? The song’s great but it’s not your usual release.”

Logan nods with a small smile, a look of apprehension crossing his face in a blink of a second.

“I really don’t like my songs. I just got roped into singing it because it sells,” He takes one hand off of wheel and gestures to himself. “Along with the whole heartbroken bad boy image.”

Ellie nods and looks at him sadly. It’s not that uncommon for companies to completely have control over an artists sound and image. It’s usually for younger and newer artists where they have no power to truly choose what they want to do with their music. She was lucky than when she started out, she had Raleigh and Cadence backing her so whatever musical direction she was going to venture into was going to be supported by two music industry giants. But for artists like Logan? They’re perpetually bound to whatever their producers want for them until they can somehow break out of the image without alienating their current fans. Fortunately for Logan, their collab single ‘Candy’ is a big hit. Maybe this will even open up the path for him to finally sing songs he actually likes.

“Are you saying that you’ve never had your heart broken then?” She teases. “Is that why you can’t fully commit to the heartbroken bad boy image?”

“Maybe I’m the one that breaks hearts,” Logan says, his voice almost pained, before the light turns green and he drives. “Or maybe I just don’t like the bad boy title.”

Ellie chuckles a little. “Yeah it’s pretty outdated. Plus, if you can’t hold yourself to the same standard as Raleigh Carrera then why even try?”

“What? Property damage and grand theft auto?” He smirks. “I could totally do that.”

“Hey! The courts cleared that up, the car was legit,” She laughs and leans back on the seat. “It created a shitstorm in the company though and any car he wants to buy has to go through the suits now. Cadence was not happy.”

“I’ll bet,” Logan snickers as he pulls up to the restaurant he had recommended to Ellie the night before. “Cadence seems like she doesn’t take any of Raleigh’s shit.”

“You have no idea,” Ellie chuckles as she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. “But I guess that’s what makes them work.”

“Yeah?” Logan grins as he opens the glass door for her.

“Yeah,” She looks around the restaurant and sees that it’s practically empty except for them. “Uh…you sure this place is open?”

“Yeah it’s owned by—Vaughn!” Logan turns to walk to Vaughn coming out of the kitchen and gives him a hug.

“Logan!” Vaughn exclaims as he returns Logan’s hug and looks over to where Ellie is standing. “Woah, you brought your girlfriend? I thought you were bringing Ellie over.”

Ellie tries to rein in the blush on her cheeks but fails miserably as Logan stands next to her.

“This is Ellie,” He turns to look at her with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about him, he’s clueless when it comes to anything other than cooking.”

Ellie smiles as she steps forward and offers her hand. “Nice to meet you Vaughn. Are you Logan’s friend?”

“Cousin more like it,” Logan corrects with a fond smile.

“We ain’t actually related. But we’re family. Known each other for a long time,” Vaughn replies as he motions to the empty restaurant. “Pick a seat! I’ll have the specials right out.”

Logan turns to look at Ellie expectantly as he points to the table hidden away from the glass windows. They take their seats across each other and Ellie is only now realizing how much all of this feels like a date. She banishes those thoughts as quickly as they came, this is just a casual hanging out with a potential friend and co-worker. That’s all there is.

“So, do you always clear out restaurants when you bring girls out for lunch?”

Ellie cringes at herself and groans internally. She was thinking it of course but she didn’t expect herself to outright say it.

“Not often,” Logan replies with a smile. “This place is pretty popular. I had to ask some serious favors from Vaughn so we could have it for ourselves today.”

Ellie smiles a little. “You didn’t have to, you know. I would’ve been fine either way.”

“I was thinking that a thousand pair of eyes constantly glancing at you while you eat would be uncomfortable.”

Ellie chuckles as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “You overestimate how much I get recognized in public. People rarely ever notice.”

“Liar,” Logan grins. “I would’ve noticed you from a thousand miles away.”

Ellie grimaces a little as she looks at him teasingly. “Not to be rude but are you always this…flirty?”

Logan laughs as he looks at her face earnestly. “Can’t help myself I guess.”

Ellie rolls her eyes a little. Perhaps that’s why it’s so difficult for her to stick to the rules and guidelines she’s set up for Logan when he seems to be so adept at making her break them.

The ping of Logan’s phone cuts through the silence and he grabs it from the table, astonishment and awe taking hold of his face.

“Woah,” Logan says as he turns his phone to her. “Looks like Candy has 80 million views on PlayMe now.”

“Seriously?!” Ellie exclaims as she takes his phone and stares at the number below the video. “This is insane.”

“Yeah I didn’t think it would be this popular…” Logan says in awe before his face softens.

“I did,” Ellie grins as she hands him his phone back. “And not just because of me by the way. The song is really great Logan. You should write your own stuff more often.”

“After this, maybe I’ll finally be able to,” Logan looks at her gratefully. “Thanks Ellie. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

“No problem. I really meant what I said back then. About how I can help you out and be your friend. If you ever need help just hit me up and—” Ellie’s eyes flick to the ringing of her phone and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise when she sees Mona’s name flashing on the screen. She had already informed Mona that she’ll be taking the day off so this call must be important. “Sorry it’s my manager. I’ll be quick.”

Logan nods. “Take your time.”

Ellie nods as she grabs her phone and moves a little ways away from their table before she takes the call.

“Mona hi, what’s up?”

“Are you with Logan?”

Ellie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and absolute fear. She hadn’t said anything about why she wanted a day off. Was Mona just this good? Was someone tailing her?

“Uh…yes,” She replies as she looks around the restaurant in apprehension in case she’ll see Mona suddenly pop out of nowhere. “But its just lunch I swear! And we’re both sober and we’ll stay sober. I’m not up to trouble—”

“I don’t care about that, put me on loud speaker. I need to talk to you both and make sure you’re alone.”

“To us…both?” Ellie asks as she confusingly makes her way back to the table. Logan looks at her with a question in his eyes just as she takes her seat again. Ellie shrugs before she pulls the phone away from her ear, puts in on loud speaker and places it in the middle of the table. “You’re on loud speaker Mona.”

“Good. Logan, can you hear me?”

“Uh yeah I can,” Logan looks to Ellie for answers but Ellie merely shakes her head signaling that she doesn’t know either. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ll cut right to the chase. With how popular Candy’s release is, the company has approved the music video. We’ll start production in two weeks.”

“Seriously?!” Ellie exclaims as she shares an excited and happy look with Logan. “That’s great news Mona!”

“Yeah and one more thing. We need you both in a fake relationship to drum up the release of the music video. I already went through this with your manager Logan. He should be calling you about this soon.”

“Woah wait,” Logan looks at Ellie’s phone apprehensively before he glances at Ellie. “Fake relationship? This isn’t. I mean I wasn’t—”

“Mona you know how I feel about fake relationships,” Ellie cuts in, annoyance lacing her voice. “Why can’t we just promote the song the normal way?”

“This isn’t just about the song Ellie, it’s to clean up your image as well. Everyone loves you with Logan, he’ll basically become your Cadence.”

Ellie frowns.

“If Ellie isn’t comfortable with this then I won’t do it,” Logan replies sternly.

“Fine then, you both have until the end of the day to give me your final decision,” Mona pauses for a moment before her voice drops down to something soft and caring. “This is good for you Ellie. I wouldn’t have suggested this unless I knew it was going to work. Have I ever led you wrong?”

Mona doesn’t afford Ellie the time to reply as she drops the call. Ellie lets out a heavy sigh and takes the phone and shoves it into her pocket, hoping that she won’t have any more calls to ruin her day.

“Shit. This is fucked up,” Logan says as anger and annoyance takes hold of his voice.

“Yeah but not uncommon,” She sighs and leans back on her seat as she thinks about it.

When Cadence revealed to her that the first time Raleigh and her started to date was actually just a fake relationship, she had vowed herself to never take that route. Mainly because she wanted to spare herself from the drama of being in a fake relationship with someone she had no feelings for. Pretending to kiss and fawn over a guy she’ll barely talk to outside of a few convincing texts to screenshot and post on Twitter to parade their relationship around like a prized horse.

She wants to be authentically herself because she owes it to the fans that love and support her.

“What do you think Logan?”

“I mean what I said Ellie,” Logan says as he leans forward a little and gazes into her eyes. “If you don’t want this then I don’t want this.”

A small smile tugs on her lips. “So if I was okay with this…you’d do it?”

Logan chuckles a little. “I mean…would any fan pass up the opportunity to fake date their idol?”

Ellie laughs a little as she takes the table napkin in her hands and twists it around nervously. She weighs her options. Mona wasn’t lying about the image clean up. It’s no doubt that once her new album drops in the coming months, it’ll be used to comb through all of her relationships in the past. So much of the songs she plans to record in the album revolves around heartbreak and recovering from that heartbreak that she knows full well that her critics will unfairly attach a guy to every track in that album. If she gets into a fake relationship with Logan and they “break up” amicably, then all of it will just bounce back to Logan alone. Maybe they could even spin the story so that she’s the dumpee which would then earn her sympathy and support for getting dumped by a truly great guy.

Plus, if she’s being honest with herself, it’ll give her a test run on the tiny crush she has on him without all the pesky strings of getting attached in a real relationship.

It’s all just positives at this point so how could she say no?

“Okay, I’ve made up my mind,” She glances up at Logan shyly before she steels her confidence and clears her throat. “So uh Logan, will you be my very first fake boyfriend?”

The way his eyes sparkle and the way the smile stretches on his lips makes Ellie momentarily forget how to breathe.

“I’ll make you so happy Ellie,” He promises, more truthfully than he had initially intended before he reaches forward and offers his hand. “It’ll be an honor to have you as my first fake girlfriend.”

Ellie laughs a little as she takes his hand, his palms warm against hers, and shakes on the deal just as Vaughn comes arrives with his specialties and sets it the down on the table with a big grin before he goes back into the kitchen.

“Okay, so how did it happen?”

Logan looks at her curiously just as he’s about to take a bite from his burger. “How did what happen?”

“I mean how did we start dating? Why did we start dating?”

He blinks at her, confusion clear on his face. “Because you like me and I like you back?”

“Not good enough,” Ellie says as she takes a bite from chicken sandwich. “It has to be authentic and it has to be meaningful.”

Logan chuckles a little nervously, not really expecting her to be this thorough about the whole thing. After all, he was just planning to post a Pictagram post about it and leave it at that.

“Love at first sight then?”

Ellie coughs and thumps her chest as she looks at him in disbelief. “Seriously? That’s so cliché!”

“It’s plausible,” He smiles and looks at her pointedly as Ellie rolls her eyes.

“How about this. We hung out a lot after the recording, we talked and realized that we had a lot in common and we ended up liking each other.”

“Why is this so important?” Logan frowns as he throws a French fry into his mouth. “Why is it anyone’s business how we got together? Isn’t it enough that we’re dating?”

Ellie scoffs as she takes a sip of her glass of water. “You’ve clearly never been in a fake relationship before.”

“Neither have you,” Logan replies as he playfully bumps her knee under the table.

“Yeah but I got references,” She grins as she raises her phone and waves it a little. “People always love the backstory and we’ll probably get asked about it a lot so it’s better to get our stories straight to really sell it.”

“Right…speaking of selling it, is kissing allowed?” Logan asks cheekily. “What are my boundaries? What are the things I can and can’t do?”

Ellie chuckles a little. “Kissing should be allowed in public. I mean, how else would we make it convincing? Hugging and touching is fine too—as long as it’s in public.”

“Got it,” Logan smiles.

“How about you? What are my boundaries?”

Logan tilts his head to the side with a playful smile. “No food in the Devore?”

Ellie laughs. “Is that all? You’re easy to please.”

“I’m a simple guy I guess,” Logan hands her some tissues when some of the sauce clings to the side of her lips. “We should probably also lay out all of our bad habits while we’re at it. Get it all out in the air so we don’t annoy each other.”

Ellie nods. “You’re right. I’ll go first. I’m cranky during mornings and I hate food that feels mushy no matter how good it tastes.”

“Hmm…” Logan perches his elbow on the table and leans his cheek on his closed hand. “No one drives the Devore but me and I’m really particular about my hair products.”

“You should tell me what you use in your hair. I don’t know how you got it to be so soft,” An embarrassed flush takes hold of her cheeks when she realizes that she just brought up the night she had undoubtedly buried her fingers in his hair.

“I could take you out shopping,” Logan offers with a knowing smile. “Part of the fake boyfriend experience.”

“And I’ll make sure to drag you around multiple stores,” Ellie smiles teasingly. “Part of the fake girlfriend experience.”

Logan pretends to groan as he tilts his head back. “I feel like I’m getting the short end of this deal.”

“Hey!” She bumps her knee against his underneath the table. “You get to fake date the Ellie Wheeler, not many can say they had the privilege.”

“You’re right,” Logan answers honestly, his eyes gazing into hers. “I’m really lucky.”

Ellie smiles softly as a bubble of worry start to form itself in her stomach. “Do you think…we’ll be fine? I mean, nothing bad is gonna happen right?”

“What’s the worse that could happen?” Logan asks with a shrug as he leans back on his chair. “We get along and we make great music together. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Ellie nods a little, her fears disappearing with his words. With how crazy her life has been in the past few months, this could very well be the first break she’ll get since the Colt scandal. In theory, nothing bad should happen if she just keeps her crush as just a crush and cruise through the next few months until their eventual breakup.

Everything is going to be great.

~*~

“I’m calling Mona right now.”

“Babe, come on. This is Ellie’s decision—”

“Shut up Raleigh,” Cadence leaves it at that as she moves to the kitchen of their penthouse and starts a heated discussion with Mona.

Ellie looks towards Cadence direction a little guiltily. After she had lunch with Logan and after ironing out the last of the details for their fake relationship, she decided to drop by Cadence and Raleigh’s penthouse so she could give them the news herself rather than the subtle and suggestive Pictagram posts they’ll both be dropping within the week.

Raleigh sighs and runs his hand through his brown and messy hair before he looks at Ellie sitting on their plush couch. “So how long is this going to go on?”

“About three months or so,” Ellie says as she takes some of the candy they usually leave out on their coffee table. “Until I’m almost finished with my album I think. Mona still hasn’t told me the specifics.”

“Hmm…” Raleigh acknowledges as he observes her quietly. “Want some advice?”

“Uh, I didn’t know you’d have some Raleigh, you did say I should fake date him to promote the song,” Ellie grins as Raleigh glares at her lightly. “But alright, give it to me.”

“Take it from someone who got fucked up from a fake relationship,” He motions his head towards the kitchen. “If you have even the slightest feelings for him, don’t do it or you’re going to end up hurting yourself.”

Ellie frowns. “But you two worked out though…”

“Yeah but the shit we went through?” Raleigh sighs as he shakes his head, his voice a little pained. “I had to watch her get dragged by the media and I couldn’t do or say shit because we “broke up”, then I had to pretend like I was over her and pretend like I didn’t give a shit when I saw her kiss another guy. Even if it was a fake rel. That shit messes with your head, you know?”

Ellie nods sadly. “I won’t develop feelings for Logan. I promise.”

“Good, keep it that way,” Raleigh shrugs before the familiar playful and teasing smile makes its way to his lips. “But if you start to feel like it’s there, it’s a good indication that its time to bounce.”

Ellie grins just as Cadence makes her way back into the living room with a huff and deep furrow on her eyebrows.

“I talked to Mona.”

“Sounds more like it was yelling babe.”

Raleigh merely smiles at the glare Cadence sends his way before she sits next to Ellie and takes Ellie’s hands into hers.

“I understand why you did this. I’m not going to say it’s easy but if this is what you really want then I won’t stop you. Just…be careful okay?”

“Yeah and have fun!” Raleigh says as he reaches out to the bowl of candy and throws it towards Ellie who clumsily catches it. “I’ve met Logan, he’s a nice guy.”

“Aren’t they all?” Cadence sighs as she leans back on the couch. “I’m not saying that it won’t be fun. Sure, it will be but it’s also going to difficult when the real and fake just…blur together and that’s when it starts to get less fun.”

“When did it start to blur for you Cadence?” Ellie asks innocently as Raleigh’s eyes sparkle in absolute delight as he leans forward and looks at his fiancée with curiosity and affection.

“Yeah Cadence when did it start to blur for you?”

Cadence rolls her eyes as a small smile tugs her lips. “The charity function when we sneaked away.”

“Ah,” Raleigh leans back with a fond smile. “That’s a good one.”

Ellie’s eyes bounce between them and she already knows that she’s effectively been shut out. Not that she minds, she’s practically used to the two of them so attached and magnetized to each other that it’s not uncommon for her to feel like the perpetual third-wheel.

“Right, I’m going home guys,” Ellie announces as she stands from the couch and unconsciously pockets the candy Raleigh had thrown to her. “I still have songs to write.”

“Keep up us updated!” Cadence calls out as Ellie makes her way to the penthouse elevator. “About the album and Logan!”

“Always,” Ellie calls out just as the elevator doors close in front of her. She sighs and leans back on the elevator and lets her mind wander. It’s not like she didn’t have her apprehensions, after all she’s well aware of the things she could be risking if she ends up falling for Logan.

But a part of her is undoubtedly curious. What kind of boyfriend would Logan be? Would he be just as cheesy and flirty or would she see a different side to him? Would she be able to pull some inspiration from their fake relationship for her album?

The last question makes her flush a little as she gets into the cab and makes her way back to her penthouse. It wouldn’t be weird for her to write a song about Logan, after all an artist is supposed to get inspiration from the influence and their environment right? It would be weirder if she didn’t have any songs about Logan on her album if they plan to fake date for three months or so.

Ellie doesn’t have time to fully delve into those thoughts when she reaches the building her penthouse and she hurriedly makes her way to her floor. She goes through the motions of putting away her keys and flicking on the lights before she makes her way to her bedroom and flops down on the mattress.

She takes a minute to stare at the nonsense patterns of her ceiling before she reaches into her pocket to pull out her phone when her hands close in on a small round object. She pulls it out and looks at the red candy with confusion before she realizes that it’s from Raleigh and Cadence’s place.

An idea suddenly hits as she quickly scrambles to sit up on the bed and takes out her phone. She tears open the wrapper and presses the candy on her lips. She turns the camera of her phone to her before she snaps twenty or so pictures before settles on one and places a filter to make it look a little bit aesthetically pleasing. A wide smile takes hold of her lips as she pulls up her Pictagram account and posts the picture with the caption:

Boy I’m your candy. Tell me what you’re waiting for.

It’s subtle and suggestive, just like they agreed on, after all it’s just part of the lyrics for their single ‘Candy’ and people could even say that Ellie is simply promoting the song—but with no link to the actual single nor the usual words of “stream Candy” attached anywhere, the comments that rush in quickly figure out what she’s hinting on.

I knew it! I fucking knew it! This is folks, this is the sign we needed that they’re dating. Oh my god I’m so happy but I’m so sad?? But I’m so happy too omg If she breaks his heart, I’m gonna kill her. I heard that there’s gonna be an MV dropping. Will we get a kiss scene???

Ellie laughs a little as she lays back down on the bed and continues to scroll through the comments that come in. She skips through the hate comments, already immune to them at this point, and focuses on the love and support of their “relationship”. She feels a little tinge of guilt that she’s fooling her fans like this but at the end of the day, it’s her life and she’s allowed to live it according to how she wants to.      

A notification pops up in her screen and her heart races when she sees that Logan has posted something. She navigates to his page and when the picture loads, the little squeal of delight she lets out is both embarrassing and well-earned.

The picture is a shirtless selfie of Logan with a piece of candy trapped tantalizingly between his teeth as he looks into the camera with playful smile and sparkling brown eyes. The caption at the bottom reading:

Girl I’m your candy. All I want is you my love.

It’s far from the “subtle” that they had agreed on but it’s not like she dislikes it. In fact, it puts a silly smile on her face that she can’t wipe away. Now, she’s wondering if this truly is his first fake relationship because he just seems too good at it.

Ellie goes to look at the picture again, carefully trying to commit to memory everything about it, before she closes her phone and tosses it next to her. She knows that tomorrow, every celebrity gossip blog is going to start writing articles about their Pictagram posts and she’ll feel the full effects of their fake relationship once dawn breaks.

But for now, she allows herself to get lost in her thoughts and lets the exhaustion of the day pull her to sleep. Because tomorrow, she’ll be going through an experience she’s never had before.

An experience that, that she hopes, will bring more good than bad.

~*~

“Helloooo? Earth to Ellie?” Ingrid huffs as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Look if you’re too busy to hang out with me and get pics for my Pictagram, we can always reschedule.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” Ellie replies sheepishly as she places her phone on the table. “My bad Ingrid, what were you saying?”

“I was saying,” Ingrid says as she gestures her hand to Ellie, her sparkly pink nails glinting under the florescent lights of the café. “What’s up with you and Logan?”

“Nothing’s up.”

Ellie’s phone pings with a new message and Ingrid narrows her eyes suspiciously as she leans in and swipes Ellie’s phone from the table. Ellie scrambles to get it back but Ingrid is too quick and she’s already inputting Ellie’s password and seeing the new message.

“Still up for date night, El?” Ingrid reads in delight and shock before she turns to Ellie with a dramatic gasp. “Ellie Wheeler you’re dating Logan and you didn’t tell me? What, are we not friends anymore or something?”

“Shh!” Ellie moves across the table between them and grabs her phone as she nervously looks around the semi-crowded space of the café. “And he’s exaggerating. It’s not date night, we’re just watching a movie.”

“Yeah because that’s soooo not a date,” Ingrid rolls her eyes as she picks up her cup of tea and takes a sip. “Whatever. I’m happy for you, he’s definitely an upgrade from all the assholes you’ve dated in the past.”

“I told you we’re not dating,” Ellie says as she takes a peek at her phone and almost melts a little at the list of movies he’s already curated for them to watch later tonight. “At least not officially, not until we announce it in three days.”

“Announce? Officially?” Ingrid narrows her eyes at Ellie before she lowers her voice. “So it’s a fake rel?”

“Yeah,” Ellie picks one of the movies from his list and sends him a quick message. “It’s just that—fake. So we aren’t actually dating.”

“Then what’s with his Picta posts?” Ingrid pulls out her own phone and navigates to Logan’s page. “In the past week he’s either posting about his car, his upcoming album or cryptic posts about you. I mean look at this,” Ingrid clicks on a picture and turns the phone to Ellie. “It’s a picture of him in a field of flowers. The caption literally has the lyrics to your song. Dude sounds like his halfway in love already!”

Ellie blushes a little as she looks at the picture Ingrid’s showing her. She really does love that photo, it’s probably one of her favorite ones his posted. In the past few weeks, they’ve both been trying to be “subtle” about slowly enticing the public with their supposed relationship but Ellie has gradually learned that there is nothing subtle about Logan. All of his posts leave no room for speculation or doubt while she tries her best to be subtle when she posted a picture of her wearing a yellow and black dress.

“He’s just really good at the whole fake dating I guess,” Ellie shrugs as her phone pings with another new message from Logan. She glances at her phone and a small smile tugs on her lips when she sees his message.

Nice, I wanted to watch that one. Your place or mine?

Yours, she replies with a small smile.

Ingrid frowns. “I feel like a third wheel and he’s not even here.”

“Okay, phone down now. Let’s take the picture because I need to go and finish up one more song for my album.”

Ingrid rolls her eyes as she motions with her fingers for Ellie to come closer so they can take the picture together over their array of untouched desserts on the table. Ellie smiles prettily, the kind of smile she’ll only ever use when she’s taking pictures to be posted, as Ingrid tilts her head down a little and pouts her lips a little.

After twenty or thirty pictures with different angles, Ingrid is finally satisfied and flicks through the pictures before she finally settles on one.

“What should the caption be?” Ingrid says as her nails tap on screen. “Girls day out? One in a Million reunion?” Ingrid looks up from her phone and frowns when she sees Ellie grinning at her phone before Ingrid sneakily takes a candid photo. “When your friend can’t get off of her phone because she can’t stop talking to her fake boyfriend?”

Ellie glances up at Ingrid with a small frown. “One in a Million reunion sounds better.”

“You think?” Ingrid scoffs as she types out the phrase and posts it first. She then pulls up the candid photo she took of Ellie, writes down a caption and posts it. She leans back and observes Ellie and waits patiently for her response.

Ellie furrows her eyebrows before she looks up at Ingrid with blank face. “Really Ingrid?”

“It’s not a lie,” Ingrid smirks knowingly.

Ellie sighs as she reads the caption again under her picture.

Guess what’s making El smile so much? Hint: it’s a date.

Ingrid is right at least, it’s not a lie that she’s genuinely excited for her not-a-date with Logan. In the past week or so, they’ve gotten closer. A lot closer than she’d expect them to be and she’s starting to see how…charming, caring and genuinely nice Logan can be. It has come to the point where they’ve been talking late into the night until she’s basically fallen asleep on the phone.

And that terrifies her. Ellie doesn’t want to admit it but the feelings she’s starting to catch from him are starting to spiral into a dangerous territory and if she was smarter, a little more cautious, she’d cut her losses and ask for this fake relationship to be cancelled and, as Raleigh advised, bounce.

But she doesn’t want to. Not when she really likes the feeling of being able to unironically say that the Logan is her boyfriend.

“Anyway, I need to go,” Ellie pockets her phone and stands up from the chair. “Let’s meet up again next week if you’re free.”

“Sure,” Ingrid waves her way and flips her blond hair over her shoulder. “But next time actually pay attention to me, okay?”

“Roger that,” Ellie grins as she places her sunglasses, makes her way to the door and out of the café.

~*~

The ping of Logan’s phone sounds loud in the empty space of his makeshift studio in his apartment. He looks at it curiously before he moves the guitar to the side and reaches for the black device. A wide smile pulls on his lips when he sees the picture of Ellie grinning at her phone, his eyes flit to the caption below the picture and the smile on his face starts to physically hurt his cheeks.

He goes to message Ellie, his fingers typing out his thoughts before he can stop them.

I’m excited too troublemaker. He pauses, deletes the message and tries again.

You look cute in the picture. He pauses again and decides fuck it—he’ll send both.

I’m excited too troublemaker, you look cute in the picture.

He waits with anticipation when he sees the three dots appear and disappear. When he reads her message, he’s sent into a fit of laughter as he lays down on the carpeted floor and holds his phone inches from his face.

Oh my god shut up. She follows up the reply with a cute sticker of a tiny bunny character repeatedly thumping on the chest of a taller bunny.

He grins lazily as he types out his next message. Are you bringing snacks?

Better, I made something.

Logan raises a curious eyebrow. He can confidently call himself an Ellie fan and he, embarrassingly, knows a lot about her. Her knowing how to cook though, somehow, escaped his radar.

Didn’t know you could cook. Are you any good?

The reply is instant, almost as if she already knew that he would ask that question.

Of course I am. Don’t you trust me?

I do. Because strangely enough, he really does. Careful troublemaker, you know what they say about a way to a man’s heart.

Logan, I don’t need to be good at cooking to get through your heart.

Logan’s eyes widen, his heart picking up in speed, and he’s finding it a little difficult to come up with a reply. But his few seconds of silence must’ve set her in a panic when she hurriedly follows it up with another message.

I mean, I’m already your fake girlfriend, right?

Right, he replies before he gathers what little is left of his self-control to finish his message. I’ll see you later El. I gotta finish up the last song before you come.

Okay, see you later!

Logan lets out a heavy sigh and drops his phone on his chest and lays his forearm across his eyes. His mind swims and he can’t stop himself from finally admitting that he has the biggest crush on Ellie Wheeler.

And it’s not just a fan-crush either but a real, tangible, heart-stopping crush.

Not that this is a recent development or anything, he’s noticed that in the past few days—he’s finding it increasingly difficult when he’s nowhere near his phone. Even when he’s recording the newer songs he wrote for his album that finally got approved (due to Candy’s success), he always goes to his phone after each session so he can reply to whatever message she’s left for him.

That’s never happened to him.

Whenever Logan gets himself involved with a girl, he’s usually fine if they don’t talk for a couple days. Hell, he even prefers it since he values his solitude. But with Ellie, it feels as if he’s going to miss out on something important if he doesn’t reply to her messages or talk to her at the end of the day.

It’s a terrifying feeling for him. They haven’t even properly stared to fake date and he’s already catching this pesky crush that he can’t seem to shake out. And Logan knows himself well. No matter how hard he’s going to try to mask it, it’s going to be obvious on his face when the Paps take their pictures.

He sighs and pushes himself off of the floor and grabs his guitar. He’s been having trouble with composing his last song for the album since he’s been instructed to make it the kind of heartbroken love-pining that he’s known for—except make it R&B pop. He was excited at first, finally being able to blend what he’s known for and what he loves to create, but these days he just can’t seem to write down a single word or strum out a single note.

The subject is about heartbreak after all but all he’s been feeling is flutters of butterflies in the past few days.

He strums out the first few notes and looks to his notebook to test out the words he’s able to somehow to write down.

“Tell me once again, tell me you love me like you did that moment,” Logan pauses, reaches out to crush out a word, and he tries again. “Tell me once again, tell me you love me like you did that—time? Fuck!”

Logan places his guitar down and weaves his hand through his hair in frustration. He’s well aware that if he doesn’t finish this song within the month, it’s going to get handed to ghost writers. He’s also scarcely aware how important this album is. If the reception is good, he’ll be able to continue to release songs that he’ll actually love to sing on stage for once. No more grumpy producers telling him to cry in the booth and no more forced interviews where he has to pretend that the song is about a girl who broke his heart once.

It’s finally going to be only him, his music and his own art.

The distant and muted sound of his apartment buzzer reaches his ears and at first, he’s a little annoyed that someone’s here to interrupt his session but the annoyance is immediately wiped away when he remembers that it’s most likely Ellie.

He pushes himself off of the floor and takes quick and long steps towards the front door and yanks it open. He can’t help the smile that breaks out on his face when he sees her standing in front of him with a light peach sundress and a Tupperware of something in her arms.

“Hey, I’m here for movie night.”

“Date night you mean,” He corrects with a grin before he moves to the side and motions for her to enter the apartment. “Make yourself at home. I’m sure you already know where everything is.”

Ellie rolls her eyes with a smile before she makes her way to his kitchen. “How’s the song going?”

“Awful. I’ve got a mental block I can’t get over,” Logan sighs as he leans on the doorframe of the kitchen and observes her quietly as she pulls out plate and puts it on the counter. “Anyway, what did you make?”

“Cookies!” She smiles with pride as she tilts the Tupperware full of cookies to him before she starts to place them on the plate. “I hope you like peanut butter cookies.”

“I love them,” If Logan is being honest with himself, his feelings towards any flavor of cookie is about average. He neither likes them nor hates them but if Ellie is the one that made them, somehow he can find himself to love them. He walks to the counter and plucks one cookie from the plate and takes a bite. His eyes widen a little as the flavor hits his tongue. “Damn, these are good.”

“Told you I’m good,” Ellie beams with pride as she takes the plate and motions towards the living room. “Also, what’s blocking you from the song?”

“You” is what he’d like to say but he’s not sure if he can survive to the aftermath of that conversation. So he shrugs and follows behind her as they make their way to the living room.

“Don’t know, guess it’s just one of those days.”

“Want me to help?” Ellie abruptly stops walking and turns around, almost sending Logan crashing into her. “I also want to bounce off some lyrics with you for a song I’m working on.”

Logan thinks for a moment at the proposition. If he’s being honest, he’d rather not revisit the song until he’s let it sleep for a few days. But he does want to hear the new song she’s working on and there is one song he’s been meaning to let her listen to.

“I have a better idea. I have this song I want to run by you, get your feel for it.”

Ellie’s eyes light up as she looks around a little to try and locate the direction of his studio. “Raincheck on movie night then?”

“Sure,” Logan chuckles softly as he points to the door down the hall. “Bring the cookies though, something to keep our brain going.”

Ellie nods as she walks towards the door he points to and enters his studio. It’s a lot smaller than the one in her penthouse but it’s enough provide a good space for creating music. She places the plate of cookies on the table before she sits on the carpeted floor, crosses her legs, and pulls out her phone from her purse so she can find the instrumentals for the song.

Logan chuckles as he takes sits next to her. “I was going to offer you a chair.”

“No way, I think better when I’m sitting on the floor.”

Logan smiles softly, the little string of his heart tugging at the thought that it’s the same for him too.

“Okay here are the instrumentals,” Ellie starts, her voice serious, commanding and—for Logan—extremely sexy. “I’ve got the chorus down and the bridge but the first verse still sounds clunky.”

“Sing it for me.”

Ellie nods as she presses play, latches on to the lyrics on her phone and starts the song with a few adlibs of soft and raspy ohs.

When I see you, I feel a sense of familiarity After a moment of thinking, I approached you Besides us, everything else has vanished Please trust this experience Match my tempo babe

She finishes and looks at Logan expectantly but he only looks back at her with awe.

“I still can’t get over how good your voice sounds,” He chuckles softly when Ellie glares at him slightly. “Hand me the lyrics.”

Ellie hands him the phone. He rewinds the song a couple of times and mumbles through the lyrics a little before his eyes catch on to the part where it feels a little clunky.

“Here, this part sounds a little off the beat,” Logan moves her phone closer to her, his shoulders touching hers. “Maybe something with one more syllable to hit the last note?”

“Hmm…” Ellie takes her phone and hums through the lyrics, her eyes intensely trained on the words, as Logan observes her with a soft smile. “How about this? Please trust this moment to me.”

“Sing it for me.”

Ellie nods and she gets through the first part quickly before she slows down at the end of the first verse and sings the new lyrics.

Besides us, everything else has vanished Please trust this moment to me Match my tempo babe

“That’s it,” Logan says as he unconsciously moves closer to her, his face so close he can see the light peach blush on her cheeks. “Sounds like a hit already.”

She turns to him with a smile but quickly looks away when she realizes how close their faces are. She distracts herself by typing in the new lyrics to the song. She goes through the entire song again a couple of times, just to make sure that there’s nothing else he needs to comment on, before she’s finally satisfied with the results.

“Okay, I’m done with mine. Let me hear yours.”

Logan chuckles softly as he pushes himself off of the floor and moves to the keyboard in the corner of the room. He takes a seat just as Ellie follows him and stands behind him. Logan looks over his shoulder at her with a smile before he pats the space next to him.

Just as she takes a seat, his fingers fly over the keys and the soft and slow start of the song fills the studio. Although the actual song will have more layers to it, this is the best he can do for now. He drops his voice down a little as he tries to achieve the emotions he’s wanted to inject into this song the moment he composed it—sultry and enticing.

It’s a little stuffy when I make eye contact with you I’d like to dive deep into your eyes I’d like to look into them but I can’t If your fingers touch me, I feel like I’m losing my mind.

He goes through the first verse with ease, the emotions in his heart easily flowing out and mixing with the beat and lyrics of the song and he’s terrified of how easily all these emotions come to him when he’s singing for her.

He glances at her knowingly as he reaches to the second verse, the lyrics of the song starting to jump out of the page and into what little space is left between them.

I think I’m drunk Try mixing in another blue sapphire Let me know if there’s an island for me in your sea It’s like I’ll explode The blue spreads through all of me. You can fall for me, if you want.

He reaches the bridge and belts out a sustained high note and finishes the song with a few adlibs of ohs and lets the last of the note ring out in the studio.

“Wow,” Ellie says as she looks up at him with wonder and awe. “That’s an amazing song Logan. I feel like I already have a favorite song from your album.”

Logan grins as he gazes into her eyes. “No changes then?”

“None. Absolutely none,” Ellie unconsciously plays with the edge of her dress. “You should sing for me more often. I like being your only audience.”

Logan laughs a little, his body unconsciously moving closer to hers. “Does this mean you’re now a Logan fan?”

“Release the full album first,” She replies teasingly as she tilts her head to him. “I’ll decide then.”

“Ellie…” Logan whispers softly, his brown eyes searching hers, as he starts to move lean forward but he catches himself—his brain catching up to his erratic heart. He pulls away abruptly and tries to internally shake away the haze that she’s brought on him. Anymore than this and he’ll be helplessly falling into her arms. “Anyway, it’s getting late, don’t you think? Don’t want Mona to chew your ass out.”

“Oh,” Ellie says, the disappointment clear in her voice, before she turns to look at the clock on the wall and is shocked that two hours had run by without her knowledge. “You’re right, I should go.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Logan stands from the chair and grabs the plate from the table. “I’ll pack this up too.”

“You can keep it, it was supposed to be our snacks anyway,” She chuckles as she makes her way out of the studio.

Logan follows dutifully behind her as they walk down the hallway and reach his front door.

“Thanks for helping me with the song Logan. Too bad I can’t give you the credits for it.”

Logan grins as he reaches over and opens the door for her. “Make it up to me by giving me a signed album.”

“Careful, that’s how other artists end up taking advantage of you,” Ellie warns with a playful smile before she steps out of the door and looks at him a little apprehensively. “Our fake relationship is going to start in three days. Are you ready?”

“I am,” Logan says honestly, maybe even a little excitedly. “I doubt anyone’s going to be surprised though.”

“That’s your fault, I told you to be subtle,” Ellie chuckles softly before she turns to leave. She looks over her shoulder and gives him a small smile. “Goodnight Logan.”

“Goodnight Ellie. Message me when you get home.”

Elli gives him a small wave goodbye and watches her carefully to make sure she gets to the elevators without the any problems. When the elevator closes, he closes the front door and presses his forehead against the wooden surface. He squeezes his eyes shut and runs through everything that happened so far.

He groans a little when he realizes how close he was to kissing her after he finished singing his song. If he was a weaker man, he would’ve done it. But she already set her boundaries. No kissing, hugging or touching—unless it’s in public. And he’s going to keep that promise.

Although, embarrassingly, he’s already running through the best date spots for their first official date as a fake couple.

A date, he’s hoping, will end with a kiss.

~*~

“Ellie! Come here!”

Ellie turns to look at the director in her chair as the make-up artist continues to touch up her make up for the music video shoot.

“Coming!” Ellie replies as she stands from the chair and smooths out the orange and black jacket she’s wearing before she makes her way to the director.

Once she reaches him, he gives a quick rundown of the scene needed for the shoot. She follows him around the set, an explosion of yellow, pastel neon and soft orange lights and décor that mimics old 90s arcades, as he points out the different places she’ll be shooting her solo scenes. One where she’ll be inside a tube like structure, another is in front of a makeshift brick wall and the last one is a raised platform with fairy lights dotted in the background and foreground.

“We’ll shoot your parts first then we move on to Logan’s,” The director motions to where Logan is sitting in his chair having his final run through from the assistant director for his own scenes. “The props should be in the tube.”

Ellie’s eyes light up when she turns to look at the tube structure and sure enough, there on the bottom is where a myriad of different shaped and colored candies in aesthetically pleasing glass jars wait for her. It’s already pretty rare for her to eat anything too heavy days before a music video shooting so having the opportunity to eat on the actual shooting is a blessing she’ll never have again. Unless she titles all of her songs to something food-related.

“Can I eat it?” Ellie asks as she crawls into the center of the tube, takes the glass jars and puts it on her lap as she takes a seat. She twists open the lid and takes out a blue dice-shaped candy and holds it up to the light.

The director laughs. “Just try not to eat all of it. We start in five everyone!”

“You okay over here?”

Ellie looks up and smiles when she sees Logan approaching her in a red and white hoodie, his white pants hugging is legs in the most distracting of ways. He reaches the tube structure and takes a seat on the entrance of the tube.

“Good, you?”                                                                                                                  

Logan smiles as he motions to run his hand through his hair before he stops himself when he remembers that his hairstylist has already spent hours on his hair.

“Ready to eat something, I’m hungry.”

Ellie grins as she offers him the candy she’s holding. “Want a bite then?”

Logan raises an eyebrow before he leans forward and takes the candy between his teeth, his eyes never leaving hers as his lips touch the tips of her fingers.

Ellie is immensely thankful to her makeup artist for making her makeup just a little thicker today so it can survive the harsh lights. It turns out it has a dual purpose today—survive the lights and hide away the blush on her cheeks.

“Delicious,” Logan comments with a cheeky smile as he runs his thumb over his bottom lip. “Save some for me later.”

Ellie doesn’t have time to reply, not that she had any coherent words to reply with, when the director calls out for the first take. Logan stands from where he’s sitting and gives her a little thumbs up before he walks out of the frame of shoot.

Ellie takes a minute to get her beating heart to settle before she turns to the camera, her demeanor already changing, as she hears Candy playing in the background.

“And action!”

~*~

“Good job Ellie, let’s take a five minute break and reset,” The director calls out as Ellie hops off of the platform.

Just as she’s about to go back to her seat somewhere behind the cameras, Logan intercepts her and offers her a water bottle. She smiles gratefully and drinks almost half of the bottle. Maybe being under the lights and nibbling on candy for forty minutes made her more dehydrated than she thought.

“Want me to get you another one?” Logan chuckles as she shakes her head no.

“I’m good for now,” Ellie twists the bottle cap close and hands it back to him. “Ready for our shoot?”

“Yeah,” Logan’s eyes flit to somewhere over her shoulder and he moves to her side, wraps an arm around her waist and guides her away a little. “Careful, there’s a camera behind you.”

“Huh? Oh thanks,” Ellie looks behind her just as she sees the huge black device hovering near where she had been standing. A memory comes to her and she laughs a little. “Ever hit your head on this?”

Logan winces at the thought and shakes his head no.

“I did, when I was shooting Easy,” Ellie chuckles as she unconsciously leans into him, his hand warming up the skin on her waist. “Just as I was really feeling the music, I turn to the side and bam! The makeup team had to do some magic to hide the red bump here.”

Ellie points to her right temple and Logan snickers as he gazes into her eyes with a soft smile, giving her waist a reassuring small squeeze. “I’ll make sure we won’t get a repeat of that then.”

“Then you’re doing a fantastic job so far,” Ellie moves closer to him, the space between them nonexistent, and somewhere in the back of her mind—she’s aware that she shouldn’t be this close to him even if everyone knows that they’re “dating”.

“Logan and Ellie! Let’s start,” The directors voice booms around the space of the studio and the spell they’ve trapped themselves in breaks. Ellie is the first to move a little away from his hold and Logan, reluctantly, lets his arm fall away from her waist. When he’s no longer in her space, he can already feel the rush of cold air that envelopes him.

“Make sure you don’t get left behind,” Ellie comments as she looks up at him with a teasing smile.

Logan smiles and puts his hands in his pockets, the fire in her eyes both inspiring and addicting.

“Never troublemaker.”

~*~

Ellie takes a sip from her glass of wine, her back against the headboard of her bed, as she crosses her ankles and goes through the selection of movies on her TV for her next movie to watch. After the music video shoot that ran for close to three hours, she was finally able to relax for the rest of the day and she’s been spending it catching up on movies she’s wanted to watch for awhile. Although she wanted to hang out with Logan after the shoot, he had to quickly get to an interview with a popular podcast channel on PlayMe.

After she picks one from the thriller category, she blindly pats around for her phone on the bed. She goes through her Pictagram account and lazily scrolls through her timeline as the opening scene of the movie fills the silence of her bedroom. Since they’ve announced their relationship (with a cringy couples pose pic that had them laughing and wheezing the first few takes), most of her timeline has been full of their fans congratulating them and making compilation videos of whatever little interaction they had shown in public. Ellie doesn’t want to admit it out loud but she really does enjoy seeing people so happily supporting the both of them. In her past relationships, most of her fans and friends disapproved of her choice (with good reason too) but with Logan, all she’s getting is love and support.

It’s painful for her to admit it but Logan is just that good of a guy and he really is the Cadence to Ellie.

Ellie frowns a little at the idea that she’s the Raleigh of their relationship.

!!!!!!!! El, watch this!

Ellie’s eyebrows furrow a little when she sees PlayMe link that Riya, her closest friend even before she became an artist, has sent her. She pauses the movie and places her glass of wine on her nightstand when she sees the thumbnail of the video. She can already tell that it’s Logan sitting in a podcast room and if she isn’t mistaken, it’s probably the interview he had to quickly run to after their shooting.

You sure this is all fake?

Ellie’s eyes widen a Riya’s message before she quickly locates her earphones, plugs it in and plays the video. It starts off innocently enough, just going through Logan’s music history and talking about his most popular songs. Then it delves into Candy and, naturally, to her.

“So, Candy and Ellie. What’s that like?”

Logan chuckles a little, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “Which one do you want me to talk about? Depending on how much time we have left, I don’t think we can get to both.”

The hosts laughs. “Ellie of course!”

“Yeah Ellie!” His co-host chimes in. “What’s it like working with her?”

“Amazing,” Logan grins as he leans back on his seat. “She’s passionate about her work. She doesn’t take any of my crap either.”

“And you guys are dating now! What’s that like?”

“It’s…” Logan pauses a little, a soft smile tugging on his lips. “Surreal you know? I mean dating your idol is probably number one on the list of things that doesn’t happen to guys like me.”

“I bet Ellie is just as lucky,” The co-host laughs.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one,” Logan’s voice drops down to something soft, something honest. “She’s sweet…way too sweet for someone like me. She knows how to have fun too and it’s never boring when I’m with her...it kinda feels like home sometimes.”

The host whistles. “Write her a song while you’re at it.”

Logan laughs. “Told you I’d only have time to talk about one.”

“If Ellie is listening in—hi Ellie!—what would you like to say to her?”

“Where’s the camera—oh there,” Logan smiles handsomely directly to the camera, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement and affection. “Miss you already troublemaker. Let’s reschedule that date night already.”

The whole room dissolves into awws and Ellie touches her cheek, feeling the warmth of her blush heating up her palm. She doesn’t even get the time to properly process what she just saw when Riya sends her a flood of messages.

Did you see it? El tell me you’ve seen it. Was he really faking it? And why does he call you troublemaker? El!!! Reply already!!!

Calm down Riya! I just finished watching it.

Cool. Thoughts?

So many. Ellie probably has enough thoughts in her head to last her for the rest of the week. But how is she able to properly articulate all of them without giving away her crush for Logan? Nobody knows about it—not even Raleigh and Cadence, the two people she shares everything with.

I think…maybe it isn’t all fake?

I knew it! I freaking knew it! The way he looked at the camera? The things he said? Sorry but your boyfriend is hot El.

She wants to correct Riya. That Logan isn’t her boyfriend but rather her fake boyfriend but surprisingly, giddily, she doesn’t. So she immerses herself a little in the fantasy, in the belief that maybe there really is something more to them than just their fake relationship.

It won’t hurt right? After all, this is just a little crush. A feeling she won’t allow to grow into something more. After all, she promised Raleigh that it wouldn’t get to that—hell, she promised herself.

But a crush is something small and insignificant. Something she can easily overlook and abandon when things start to get sticky.

So Ellie flops down on her bed, a wide grin on her face, as she dials Riya’s number so they can properly gush over her extremely hot boyfriend and talk about all the things she’s excited to explore with her very much fake but not fake relationship with Logan.

[beca-mitchell]

one for the road (1/1)

Summary: Snippets into the life of what it means to date Special Agent Beca Mitchell. Chloe-centric.

For @asimplefavors, gif-maker extraordinaire and dedicated Anna Kendrick fan. This is not meant to kill u. Also I literally know nothing about how the FBI works.

Word count: 1,386

Read on AO3 or read below.

one.

Chloe Beale knew what she signed up for when she started dating Beca Mitchell. A talented FBI agent in her own right, Beca’s skill and talent were often unparalleled in meetings and out on missions. 

Chloe expected a certain amount of drama and anxiety to enter her life regularly because she knew Beca was somebody special. While she could do without the death-defying moments that Beca often somehow subjected herself to – unwittingly or otherwise – Chloe understood it was all part of Beca’s line of work. Hell, Chloe was even willing to look past her own personal politics in regards to some aspects of Beca’s line of work.

It was just hard sometimes, knowing that Beca’s work took such a toll on her.

Ultimately though, Chloe knew how much it made Beca human. How emotional Beca got after receiving upsetting or disturbing intel; how emotional Beca got after a failed mission.

Chloe vowed to be there for it all – at least as much as she could as Beca’s girlfriend who knew very little about what Beca’s line of work actually entailed, beyond the occasional glimpses she got. In all honesty, while Beca’s line of work was often interesting, Chloe hardly found glamour in her girlfriend’s work. She constantly worried and she constantly fretted because seeing Beca in distress and seeing Beca upset was awful on its own.

The thought of anything else happening to Beca...Chloe could die. It makes her heart hurt in previously unimaginable ways.

two.

“You honestly shouldn’t be in here,” Beca murmurs, closing her manila folder deftly with one hand while the other hand expertly slides up Chloe’s back, still warm from her earlier shower.

Chloe could care less about the contents of that folder. She knows how many things there are that Beca can’t talk about.

She just wants her girlfriend.

three.

Chloe can see visible dark rings under Beca’s eyes as she slides into Chloe’s car for their dinner date.

“Hey,” Chloe says when Beca finishes buckling her seatbelt. Beca looks up. Chloe smiles lovingly. “C’mere,” she murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss against Beca’s lips.

Beca kisses back immediately, her hand coming up to rest on Chloe’s thigh. Chloe can sense a certain kind of desperation in Beca’s kiss like she is trying to immediately lose herself in Chloe’s touch. For a moment, Chloe obliges and lets Beca’s fingers press into her thigh a little more firmly; she lets Beca’s lips push a little insistently against hers until she parts her mouth to let Beca’s tongue graze hers.

For a moment, Chloe honestly forgets about the rest of the world itself – forgets about what it means whenever they’re not together.

And then the moment ends and Beca is leaning back into her seat, eyelids fluttering.

“Hello,” she murmurs a little dazedly into the quiet of Chloe’s car.

Chloe grins, ignoring Beca’s previous despondent demeanor for a moment. She is pleased enough by Beca’s reaction.

They have all the time in the world to talk.

four.

Chloe considers the first moment of intimacy between them to be the first time Beca broke down in her arms, crying heavily and openly. Her normally steely demeanor, marked by steel-blue eyes which rarely belied her true emotions, had cracked and then shattered all at once in Chloe’s arms.

Chloe had wrapped herself around Beca’s small frame – somehow smaller – and simply held her until the sobs subsided and Beca managed to choke out a series of embarrassed-sounding apologies.

“You can talk to me,” Chloe had promised, choking back her own tears. It had surprised her how much it hurt to see Beca so upset. “You don’t have to be specific about anything if you can’t, but just tell me about what you’re feeling.” She felt Beca’s grip tighten in her shirt. “Anything,” she promises in a voice so soft it barely comes out as a whisper.

It had taken Beca a few minutes, but when she spoke again, it had simply been three words and Chloe’s heart had broken.

“I’m a failure,” Beca had whispered.

four and a half.

Beca Mitchell is decidedly not failure, for the record.

She does sometimes fail at seeing how much Chloe loves her, too caught up in her own head. But Chloe never tires of reminding her in the same way Beca never tires of reminding Chloe in her own Beca way.

five.

It feels like hours, but Beca finally manages to leave the building. After providing adequate answers for her supervising agent’s report, she wants nothing more than to go home.

It almost makes her want to laugh, how dependent she is on Chloe. The thought of home isn’t her own apartment. It’s Chloe’s. Chloe’s apartment which is warm and inviting and always has a stock of Beca’s favorite coffee.

As she steps out further into the still-busy parking lot, she feels a chill rush over her as memories from the night steadily stream through her mind in an organized manner. Her hands begin to shake, like she can still feel the heavy, solid weight of her gun in her hands – a gun Beca barely enjoys holding – and the fear that had rushed through her.

She had briefly imagined if she never made it home to tell Chloe how sorry she was for making fun of her chili. The had, in the moment, been the most obscure and abstract thought Beca had ever conceived while on a mission, but that only served to remind Beca how much she had to live for.

She feels a gaze on her before she sees it and looks up to see Chloe walking towards her, looking so much like an angel to Beca in that moment. A concerned, sad-looking angel, but an angel nonetheless.

She has to look away for a moment because Chloe is staring at her with that expression that Beca has come to both love and hate – like she knows that Beca’s mind is working a million clicks per second to try and figure out all the ways she went wrong.

(Chloe’s voice in her mind is steady: “You’re a human, Beca – my favorite human nonetheless – and I will never love you less. I wish you wouldn’t be so hard on yourself when things don’t work out. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Her own voice, parrying back, a little shaky: “I’m not a good person, Chlo.”

“None of us are, not really.”)

“What are you doing here?” Beca asks in wonder. Her mind pauses to take a moment to drink Chloe in as well.

“Picking up my girlfriend from work so we can get a late dinner. Aubrey called,” Chloe offers, referring to Beca’s boss who somehow likes Chloe way more than she likes Beca. Typical.

“Don’t you have…a shift?” Beca asks, too tired to add on more to her inquiry.

Chloe smiles in that spectacularly sad and loving way that only the Chloe Beales of the world know how to do. “Do you know what time it is, Bec?” Chloe asks gently.

Beca had only been aware of the seconds that had passed before her partner had squeezed the trigger. It had felt like hours.

“Late,” she offers finally at Chloe’s concerned expression.

“Definitely,” Chloe laughs. She finally steps in front of Beca. She fingers the heavy fabric of Beca’s vest. “Don’t you need to return this?”

Beca glances down, realizing belatedly that she’s still decked out completely in her mission attire. “Oh,” she mumbles.

Chloe frowns when she feels the bandages on Beca’s hand. “What happened?”

It makes Beca sigh because she knows how much Chloe truly hates hearing about the various injuries she occasionally receives while out in the field. “It’s just a scratch,” she promises (lying a little). “They maybe went a little overboard with the bandages.” She touches her vest. “I should get this off.”

“Wait,” Chloe says before Beca can turn around to head back inside. “One for the road,” she says like she always does whenever they have to part (No matter how long their separation, Chloe always does this. Beca loves it.). She pulls Beca in for a quick kiss and like every time they kiss, Beca feels all the world melt away, like the sensation of a much-needed warm shower washing over her.

It makes Beca feel like she can finally go home.

fin.