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borathae · 5 months

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↳ Index [Snippet #43 - Date Night]

"When you and Jungkook have your bi-monthly date night."

Genre: married life!AU, slice of life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: this is a two part story where one is a cute date and the other is them being kinky, a cute at-home dinner date, stargazing at the beach, i don’t think you guys understand. they’re in fucking love, cuddles, loving kisses, comforting intimacy, silly jokes and happy giggles, they share a blanket, he's a cutie, but also way too hot to handle, making out, neck kisses, the rest of the warnings are for the smut, rough but also soft Dom!Jungkook, sub!Reader, she's deep in safe subspace, he's so greedy for her orgasms, thigh humping, use of leather handcuffs, he is pierced & tattooed, lingerie kink, perfume kink, ass spanking, hole spanking with his cock, hair pulling, they use the traffic light system and he does something very sexy with it, besties i need him to run me over, he calls her princess & babygirl, praise, good girl kink, dirty talk, sexy possessive talk, oral in multiple positions (f.receiving) -> face sitting & propped up against pillows, vaginal fingering, strength kink, nipple sucking, he's both gentle & rough with her, multiple intense orgasms for her & him, he makes her squirt more than once, use of lube, he spits on her hole jjsj, passionate pronebone, rough doggy, he uses her handcuffs as leverage, the fact that he is both a head pusher and a hip puller, i need to be restrained, he's also an ass man, which means he will rub her hole as he fucks her and talks about fucking it, creampies, remember how i talked about wanting to include the Daddy kink at least once with this couple? this is the drabble, and as someone who normally has the Daddy kink on her no-no-list let me tell you that IT IS HOT, besties i'm losing it what is kook doing to me, cuddly & giggly aftercare, they're in love and kinky <3

Wordcount: 15.5k it's long but you sluts get a cute date AND kinky sex

a/n: you guys don't understand. you guys don't understand. jungkook consumes my every thought. fuck istfg it's so hard being a jungkook stan. i fucking blame him and his recent attidute. like, i always knew he is a greedy lover but it's escalating. this man doesn't need the sheets to be wet after, he needs them to be SOAKED and i know that i'm right. i fucking can't take it anymore i need to be put down like a rabid animal. enjoy besties 🧡 ps: i apologise for the long warnings hahaha i always wanna make sure you guys KNOW what happens in my smut

You are genuinely obsessed with your husband. If there was ever a competition of wife most obsessed with her husband you would win it.

You love the way he looks when he just woke up, making breakfast in nothing but his briefs and his hair still a total mess. You love how he greets you in a groggy yet loving voice and how you always end up with him as your warm, toasty backpack as you listen to the morning radio and watch the sunlight catch in your window crystals.

You love the way he looks when he comes straight out of the shower, hair still damp and lower body hidden behind a towel. You love when he wears a face mask and how he always smells especially good during those post-shower moments where you cuddle into him and smell his skin.

You love the way he looks when he leaves for work, all well-put together and you love how he looks when he comes home again, just a little less well-put together. You love that he always greets you with a hug-kiss-combination and that he says goodbye the same way.

You love how he looks when he comes back from a work out or swim and how he always greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a nonchalant “the workout was especially good today. I feel like I can do anything” and how on most days, he gives you a little cocky flex of his muscles.

You love how he looks when he works in the garden, how he mows the lawn and cuts the scrubs, how he renovates the decking or sweeps the driveway.

You love how he looks when he works in the house, when he cleans or does laundry or cooks, when he does repairs and silly little tasks.

You love how he looks when he is relaxing next to you in nothing but scrubby sweats and a wrinkled shirt, when he is watching TV or sketching tattoos.

You love how he looks when he is cuddled up in bed ready for sleep. When his eyes are just a little droopier than usual and he takes ages to finish a sentence because he is so sleepy and yet he still wants to talk.

You love how he looks when he is eating and drinking and laughing and having fun. How he looks when he smiles, but also how he looks when he cries or gets angry.

You love him, you love him, you love how he is so perfectly himself in every single moment of life.

And tonight you can’t wait to have him with you again.

It was your turn to cook tonight because you weren’t working today while Jungkook had been busy with responsibilities since the early morning. So early in fact, that you missed out on post-wake-up-Jungkook. You missed out on so much.

Next to today being your free day, it was also a very special day. Bi-monthly date night. In theory, today’s theme would have been outdoor activities, but you and Jungkook agreed via text not to go out today and instead stay in.

Which was perfectly fine with you because it meant that you could cook his favourite food and prepare a cozy evening. You love cooking for him. It brings you a lot of joy to prepare something yummy and to know that he finds happiness through delicious food.

And tonight, you made it look especially pretty. You even decorated the dining table and slipped into one of Jungkook’s favourite dresses, wearing the jewellery he got for you throughout your years together.

You are just about to put the last finishing touches on the plating when the door to the garage opens and closes.

“Sweetie! I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!” you tell him, feeling giddy in excitement.

You work quickly to bring the food to the table, managing just in time before Jungkook already enters the kitchen.

He is smiling the second he lays eyes on you, looking dishevelled from a long day and carrying a bouquet of flowers and a box of cake from Seokjin’s diner.

“Wow look at you, you’re beautiful”, he says as he places the cake on the island counter. He meets you in the middle, allowing you to pull him down as you throw yourself around his neck. He snakes his arm around your waist, caressing your lower back as happy giggles leave him, “happy date night, sweetheart.”

“Happy date night, Kookie”, you are talking into the crook of his neck, swaying your bodies from side to side. He smells like outside and motor grease because he helped Hoseok in the garage today with some bike repairs, “how was your day?”

“Long and exhausting, but not bad. I’m happy to be home with you.”

“I’m proud of you, baby. You managed today”, you praise him which makes him giggle and squeeze you, “and I made you food because I love you.”

Jungkook sways with you, resting his chin on your shoulder while his eyes drink in everything you did. They lower more and more as your presence is relaxing him immensely.

“You made my favourite”, he says, smiling.

“Mhm yeah I did. It’s date night after all.”

“I love you, baby”, he says and tugs you closer, “mhm and you’re wearing my favourite dress. Sweetie, you’re looking too good to be true”, he says and runs his hand to your ass to grab it and squeeze. He doesn’t do it with an ulterior motive in mind. Grabbing, squeezing and slapping your butt is merely one of Jungkook’s love languages. It’s as normal with him as giving cheek kisses.

“I dressed up for you”, you say

“I’m so blessed. Shit, I can’t believe I got lucky enough to marry you. You’re the most beautiful woman, ___”, he says and hums, wrapping you up in a strong hug as his lips attack your cheek with the biggest smooch in humankind. It makes you giggle and squeak because it feels so good to be adored by him.

He steps back afterwards, keeping his hand on your hip as he guides the flowers into your vision.

“For my one true love.”

“Gosh, Kookie. Thank you so much. I love them”, you accept them with a fluttering heart, inspecting them giddily, “oh my god, my favourites. There’s so many of my favourites in the bouquet!”

“Do you like it? The flower lady said that they’re one of the last of the season. I would have gotten more, but she didn’t have any more.”

“I love them. Oh, I love them so much. Thank you so, so much”, you say and lean in for a kiss.

The kiss lasts around two seconds and then Jungkook breaks it again. He licks his lips, covering his mouth with his hand.

“I feel like I’ve got bad breath, sorry”, he says.

“No, it’s okay. You’ve had worse”, you assure him.

“Wow, that’s reassuring”, he jokes, breathing into his own hand to check, “it’s bad, isn’t it? Sorry, I didn’t eat or drink anything today.”

“You just taste hungry, it’s fine”, you tell him and giggle, “I gotta put the flowers into water. Get comfy and start eating already, sweetie.”

Jungkook smiles, “I will. Just gotta hop in the shower quickly. It’ll take five minutes. I hope you don’t mind. I feel really disgusting.”

“No, I don’t mind. I already planned in your shower in my schedule”, you say, making him chuckle.

“Thank you, baby”, he says as he leaves the kitchen, “I got Seokjin’s cheesecake for dessert.”

“I know, I saw. Thank you so much”, you call after him as you store the cake box he put on the kitchen island in the fridge for now.

Jungkook comes back looking as handsome as ever. He changed out of his work clothes into some jeans and a jeans shirt which he kept unbuttoned to show off the white t-shirt underneath. He also styled his hair a little and brushed his teeth.

“Ooh look at you”, you say and whistle.

“Thank you, thank you”, Jungkook says, striking a pose, “I tried”, he says and turns to show off his butt, “look at my ass”, he says, looking over his shoulder.

“Gadyam that ass is to die for”, you say in a funny accent, whistling passionately to really get the message across.

“Yeah, right?” he slaps his own ass.

“The real cake’s your ass, baby.”

Jungkook laughs, stumbling because of it. You snicker, scrunching your nose.

“You look so handsome, Kookie”, you say.

“Yeah, heh”, he lets out a soft giggle, touching the side of his neck, “thanks.”

“Now look at the food please. I worked so hard on it”, you say, pushing him to the dining table gently.

“Uuuh show me pretty food”, he coos, doing a little dance as he gets shoved to the table. He lets you sit him down, looking at the food intently, “wow darling, this is the prettiest plate I ever saw. I don’t wanna touch it ‘cause I’ll ruin it.”

You give his shoulders a gentle massage, bouncing on the spot excitedly, “no try it. Try it.”

Jungkook cuts off a piece of the perfectly grilled meat, dips it in some sauce and guides it to his lips. He eats it deliciously, frowning the deepest frown instantly.

“Mhm”, he exhales, dropping against you in a dramatic faint. He keeps his eyes close, chewing deliciously as his frown lines grow.

His reactions to good food will always make you snicker. He’s so adorable.

“Like it?”

Jungkook looks up at you, frowning at you. He nods his head.

“It’s amazing. Thank you baby, I love it”, he says with a full mouth.

“I’m happy to hear that”, you say, smooching his forehead. You give his shoulders one last squeeze and then hurry to your spot. You picked the chair at the end of the table and next to Jungkook so you could be close but still look at each other.

You pull it out halfway and then Jungkook jumps up.

“Wait! Let me”, he exclaims, snatching the chair from you.

“Oh? Well, thank you good sir”, you snicker, letting him help you with sitting down.

“Of course my beautiful lady”, he says and fixes the chair for you. He touches your shoulders, running his hands down your arms as he leans in for a loving kiss to the side of your neck.

You tilt your head, allowing him access. His lips are soft, his piercings tickle your skin, his content purr swirls over your neck.

“You’re wearing perfume”, he rasps, dragging his nose up and down your neck while his fingers feel up your upper arms.

“It’s date night.”

“Fuck baby, I feel like I gotta do more. You’re looking like a goddess and smelling like heaven and I’m over here looking like shit”, he says.

“No, you don’t. You look handsome.”

“I smell like grease. I washed my arms so thoroughly, but I still smell like it.”

“It’s a sexy smell. Don’t worry”, you say, “I like it when you work in Hobi’s garage. It’s hot.”

“Mhm, you’re too good to me”, he says, kissing the shell of your ear, “if you let me, I’m gonna make you see stars later”, he whispers, biting your earlobe gently and sending shivers down your spine with it.

“Don’t talk like this”, you whisper.

Jungkook chuckles, “why not?”

“Because it’s making me shy.”

“You are not shy, come on baby”, he laughs, “you like it. Don’t pretend that you don’t.”

“Whatever”, you murmur, “eat your food, you sweet talker.”

“Mhm, I will. Food’s amazing.”

Jungkook eats with a frown, humming and moaning in enjoyment. His reactions make cooking so worthwhile. Preparing food wouldn’t be the same without the aspect of Jungkook aggressively enjoying it afterwards. You can’t stop watching him, feeling your heart flutter.

You are truly so obsessed with your husband.

“Did you finish the bike today?” you ask him, fighting the urge to reach out and trace his features.

“Yeah, we did. Wah baby, you have no idea what a struggle that was”, he says and purses his lips in a pout.

“Yeah? What happened?”

“The oil fuse acted up and we had to disassemble so much more than we initially planned. Wah and then the new one didn’t wanna fit, I seriously. Seriously”, he squeaks the last word to really pronounce how much he wanted to do it, “wanted to throw the whole bike.”

“Wah that sounds annoying. Did you fix the issue?”

“Mhm of course”, he is smirking cockily, lifting his brows, “your hubby knows what’s up with bikes, ‘course I fixed the issue.”

“You’re so cool”, you say, ruffling his hair gently, “I married a genius.”

He scrunches his nose, wiggling his shoulders happily, “yeah, heh”, he is talking cutely again, gazing at you with sparkling eyes.

“And the tattoo? Did she really come?”

“Mh-hm yeah”, he nods his head, “she got it and then we even agreed on a second appointment for another tattoo.”

“Oh? That’s nice. In the same style?”

“Yup, she wants it to match. I already have ideas for it, but I can’t draw anymore today.”

“Course not, it’s date night”, you say, nudging his cheek.

“Yeah obviously that’s the main reason”, he says, making you chuckle. He smiles and shoves a big bite of the amazing food into his mouth. He chews happily, washing it down with another bite. He really loves the food. He will never take it for granted when you cook. He feels so lucky to be yours, he really does.

He swallows the food and takes a sip of the beer, then talks.

“What’s your plan for tonight?” he asks.

“I was thinking dinner first and then we take dessert down to the beach and do some stargazing.”

“I love it”, he says, smiling dreamily.

“You do?”

“Mhm yeah”, he brushes the back of his hand down your cheek, ending it with a gentle touch to your upper lip.

“Don’t. I’m wearing lipstick.”

“Oop. Sorry”, he gasps, pulling his finger away, “baby don’t wear lipstick, I mean you look beautiful and it fits you so fucking good, but what about the kissies?” he whines, making you laugh.

“As if you ever cared about getting lipstick on yourself. You can still get your kissies.”

“Yeah true”, he grins, looking at your lips. He moves in for a kiss, teasing you just a little by nibbling on your lower lip. He gives you a playful smirk as he moves back, letting his eyes run over your face, “you’re so pretty”, he says and eats a big bite of the food, “mhm and food’s amazing. Wah, so good.”

“You make me happy, you know?” you say and eat as well.

Jungkook smiles, “you make me happy too, baby.”

You clean the kitchen together before leaving for the beach. Jungkook is wiping the counters while you busy yourself with loading the dishwasher. Except that you get as far as loading the plates and one pot before Jungkook turns around at the noise of it.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“Loading the dishwasher. We’re quicker together.”

“But you already cooked. Baby, don’t do that”, he laughs and hurries to you so he could hug you from behind and walk you away from the dishwasher this way. He blows raspberries on your neck as he does, making you belt out a squeaky laugh.

“Stop that, eek”, you squeal, fighting him with squirms.

Ones Jungkook easily manages. It results in him attacking your neck once again and for you to almost choke on your laughter.

He laughs, giving your neck a little bite to end it with. He twirls you in his arms and lifts you on top of the kitchen island. He runs his hands up your torso to cup your cheeks and squish them gently.

“That was so awful”, you laugh, wiping at your neck.

“No, it wasn’t. It was fun.”

“Says that person who did the slobbering.”

“Excuse me? I didn’t slobber”, he laughs, squishing your cheeks more vigorously.

You snicker, giving him a look which lets him know that you were teasing him. His eyes soften.

“My cutie”, he says, pulling you in for a kiss.

You sigh and touch his neck, hoping for so much more but getting nothing than a gentle peck. He puts distance between your faces, soothing over your face gently. His eyes spill over with adoration.

“Come back”, you say, pulling him close by the front of his shirt.

Jungkook lets you, grabbing your hips. He is smirking, studying your face.

“I want you to kiss me properly”, you say as you touch his undercut, “not just a stupid peck.”

“Mhm, I can do that”, he says in a seductive voice, leaning in for a proper kiss.

You sigh happily, keeping him close with your legs around his waist, while Jungkook increases the closeness by grabbing your ass. His hands feel so warm, gripping you with a comfortable strength.

You break the kiss with a soft tug on his lower lip, eliciting a happy purr from him.

“That was better”, you whisper, watching in delight how Jungkook gazes at your lips.

“Mhm yeah”, he rasps quietly, “it was pretty fucking good.”

“Yeah”, you giggle sweetly, wiping the lipstick from his lips, “now let’s go eat cake by the beach.”

“Wah baby, you’re mean. Kissing me like that and then expecting me to be normal.”

“Mh-hm yep. I’ve got what I wanted.”

“So you were just using me?”

“Mhm, yeah.”

Jungkook chuckles, squeezing your ass. His eyes sparkle, showing how into the flirting he is.

“I’ve got something waiting for you on the beach. Do you wanna see?”

“Oh? Another surprise?”

You give him a wiggle of your brows and a mischievous grin. Jungkook squeezes your butt in reaction, looking excited.

“Fine”, he chuckles, “let’s go eat cake by the beach.”

You hold hands as you walk through the garden, enjoying the mild night. You take the steps down to the beach, using the faint stair lights as your guidance. Jungkook holds your hand the entire way down, making you feel so much safer.

Once you are almost down by the beach, you turn. You grab Jungkook’s small waist, beaming up at him.

“Close your eyes.”

“Now? On the stairs?”

“Yeah.”

“But baby, what if I fall?”

“Trust me. Imma keep you safe. Please Googie.”

“Okay?” Jungkook says and closes his eyes, “baby, you gotta hold my hands now.”

“Here grab ‘em.”

“Where are you? Baby”, he whines making you laugh.

“Right. Here”, you intertwine your fingers, “you doofus, stop panicking.”

“It’s scary stuff, good ma’am”, he jokes, eliciting yet another laugh from you. You won’t ever stop laughing at his antics. He is truly the funniest person alive.

“Just follow me. There are two more steps and then we’ll be in the sand. There we go, just keep walking. One more step, careful you’re at the edge, okay step down. And we’re down.”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

“No. Follow my voice, I’ll guide you.”

“You’re making it so dramatic. What did you prepare?”

“Something. Almost there. Aaand open your eyes.”

Jungkook obeys, letting out a loud gasp instantly.

“Wow baby, this is beautiful!”

You set up a picnic blanket on the sand. You didn’t dare to go too close to the water because you know how high the ocean can rise overnight. Instead, you picked out a dry spot close to the steps, using fairylights to illuminate the night.

You pick up a vase of flowers from the blanket, presenting it to him.

“We had the same idea. Happy date night, baby”, you say.

“You got me flowers? Baby. Thank you”, Jungkook gasps in a breathy voice, accepting the flowers with gleaming eyes, “they’re beautiful, wow baby.”

“Do you like them?”

“Of course I do. Wow, thank you”, Jungkook drapes his arm around your waist to pull you in for a kiss. And another kiss on your cheek with a loud, “mwuah.”

You giggle, rubbing his chest gently.

“Thank you so much. Wah, my heart’s racing like crazy.”

“I know. I can feel it”, you scrunch your nose happily, “wanna eat the cake now?”

“Yeah. Wow, I still can’t believe you got me flowers. We can put our bouquets next to each other so they’re a couple too.”

“That would be so cute. Yes, let’s do that.”

You and he get comfortable on the blanket. Jungkook places the vase in the sand while you open the cake box, revealing two pieces of cake. Your fairylights and the stair lights give you enough vision.

“Mhhm that looks amazing”, you say, handing Jungkook his fork.

“Yeah, it looks yummy. Uh! Uh-uh”, he stops you from poking your cake, fighting off your fork gently.

“What’s with you?” you ask in a chuckle.

“Let me”, he says and breaks off a piece.

“Fine. A woman can’t do anything here.”

“Exactly”, he says, making you snort and laugh in amusement.

You watch him with fond eyes. He lifts the piece to his lips and kisses it, before guiding it to your mouth. You accept it with giggles, looking deep into his eyes because he is enchanting you like crazy. Once the piece of cake is in your mouth, Jungkook leans closer and kisses your lips.

You and he chuckle into it, ending it with a gentle nose rub.

“Thanks”, you say, chewing the cake.

“Mhm ‘course. My queen shouldn’t have to work”, he says and pokes the cake with his fork. He breaks off a piece and eats it, furrowing his brows in approval.

Your heart flutters. You can’t take it anymore. You love this man so much. You close the distance so you can fall into his side and rest your cheek on his shoulder, letting out an almost girly giggle as your eyes gaze up at him.

Jungkook cranes his neck to kiss your forehead, then rests his head against yours. He drapes his arm over you, rubbing your skin gently.

“God baby, you’re freezing”, he gasps, “do you want my shirt?”

“It’s not that bad.”

“No. No, it’s not okay. Come on, take my shirt”, he says, scrambling to get it off. He gets on his knees behind you and drapes it over your shoulders, smoothing his hands down your arms.

The shirt smells like him. His warmth lingering in the jeans fabric seeps into your body. You weren’t even cold and yet it still feels so much better with his shirt hugging you.

“How’s that?”

You crane your neck to look at him.

“Better. Thank you.”

“Mhm”, he leans down to kiss your forehead.

You enjoy it with closed eyes and a racing heart.

Jungkook sits down next to you again after the forehead kiss, breaking off a piece of cheesecake to eat.

“No”, you push it off his fork.

“Hey, not cool”, Jungkook laughs.

“Let me”, you say and pick up the piece. You guide it to your lips for a kiss before feeding it to Jungkook.

“You used my tricks. That’s cheating”, he giggles and gets his complains kissed away. Two kisses on his lips and one on his jawline. He leans into the jawline kiss, closing his eyes.

“My king shouldn’t have to work”, you whisper and kiss his favourite spot on his jawline

“Mhm, you feel good”, he purrs.

“Mhm and you smell good”, you whisper, giving him one last kiss before sitting back again. You break off a piece of the sweet cake and eat it.

Jungkook glances at you, shuddering visibly.

“You made tingles go down my back”, he confesses, “that spot feels good.”

“Yeah?”

He nods his head, shoving a piece of cake into his mouth afterwards. He chews with his eyes just slightly widened.

“I liked it too.”

“Yeah, my sweetie”, Jungkook murmurs and relaxes with a sigh. He lets his eyes drift to the dark ocean, enjoying another piece of cake as he does.

You do the same, eating it while your heart is going haywire in your chest. You stay like this until you finish the cake. You can’t take the heart palpitations anymore. You glance at him. Jungkook notices and meets your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing, just making sure that you’re real.”

“And? Am I?” he is smiling.

“I don’t know yet”, you say, leaning closer, “I don’t know if I’ll ever really believe that I’m living my life. It’s so perfect.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking epic.”

“And you’re so perfect.”

“Come on, I’m far from perfect”, he flusters.

“You’re perfect to me. Being with you just doesn’t lose its spark.”

“Yeah, I feel the same”, he says, draping his arm around you, “I think it’s really fucking amazing that we both put so much effort into our relationship. It means a lot to me because I want to put work into us, so it feels good that you reciprocate it.”

“Of course I do. It’s a lot work, but I’m not exhausted by it at all and I enjoy it so much. It’s work I look forward to and I get the most joy out of.”

“I enjoy it as well, sweetie. It never feels exhausting. I actually really love it.”

“Yes, I love it too.”

You cuddle into him. He rests his head against yours.

“I love date nights. They’re the best.”

“They are”, he agrees, “I’ve already got ideas for outdoor date night.”

“You do?”

“Mh-hm. What do you think about burgers at Seokjin’s and then bowling down in Saint Marco?”

“Yes, I’d love that. But we gotta take pics at the photo booth this time around.”

“Yeah, right”, he chuckles, “still can’t believe that we didn’t do it last time.”

“Yeah we were idiots.”

“Yeah”, he chuckles and kisses the crown of your head.

You and he share a few snuggles and enjoy the quiet of the beach. The waves come and go in quiet gurgles. The far away road is louder than the ocean right now. The sound of a bike passes you by. You wonder if it was one of your friends. Maybe Taehyung is on his way home, maybe Jimin finished his shift at the club. Perhaps Yoongi is on his way to his husband, bringing flowers like you know him. Or maybe it was a stranger passing through town. Whoever it might have been, you hope that they arrive safely at their destination.

“I’m so obsessed with you Kook, it’s literally mental”, you break the silence and laugh, “you still manage to give me butterflies.”

“Good, cause you’re givin’ me butterflies too. Like, so many.”

You smile, craning your neck to look at him. He meets your eyes and smiles, leaning in for a kiss. He tastes like cheesecake and smiles. You taste the same. The kiss is so nice. So perfect. So amazing.

Being with each other is the best thing in the world.

You stub each other’s noses to end the kiss, turning your attention to the dark ocean afterwards. The stars are bright tonight, courtesy of the moon missing as it is currently a new moon.

You glance at him again. You thought that you can handle those tingles by now, but you can’t. You fall into him again, hugging his waist and nuzzling your nose into his upper arm as little giggles leave you.

Jungkook lets it happen with a fluttering heart.

“You’re so touchy today”, he says, draping his arm over you.

“I just love you so much”, you say, swaying him from side to side aggressively.

“I love you too, sweetie”, Jungkook chuckles, letting it happen. It ends with you and him falling down onto the blanket. The cake box was thankfully empty because you sent it flying with a clumsy kick.

“Careful”, Jungkook laughs.

“Sorry, god, lost balance”, you snicker.

“I figured”, Jungkook giggles and rolls to his back, staring up into the dark sky with his hair tousled on the blanket. You do the same, reaching above your head to turn off the fairy lights. The automatic stair lights already turned off by now, so you and he find yourselves in total darkness

“Woah, dark”, Jungkook gasps.

“Sorry, should have warned you. We can see the stars better this way.”

“Yeah right”, Jungkook settles into the blanket, “I love this”, he says and goes to hold your hand.

“Me too”, you answer him and hold his hand as tightly as possible.

You don’t feel like you age with Jungkook. Of course you and he grow older and it’s the best feeling in the world to know that you do it together, but you don’t feel older with him. When you are with him, you will always feel young. And when you hold hands, you know that just for a short moment in history you and he can actually stop time.

Only the moving stars and the singing ocean are proof that time never stops. It’s okay though, because you have Jungkook and Jungkook has you. A cool breeze swirls over your bodies.

“Brrr”, Jungkook lets out and cuddles into you, “I’m cold. Gimme sum of that shirt”, he says as he tries to wiggle himself under it.

“Wait Kook, I’ve got a second blanket”, you laugh and sit up to snatch it.

“You really came prepared, didn’t you?”

“Of course. It’s date night”, you say and unfold the blanket with the help of the wind, “and we need something to stay warm for stargazing”, you add as you lie back down.

You hand Jungkook one end of the blanket and together, you manage to cover your bodies with it. Jungkook wiggles happily, rolling to his side so he could drape his arm over your stomach and kiss your cheek.

“So cozy”, he mumbles, kissing your cheek again.

You nuzzle closer, “yeah, cozy and warm.”

“Mhm, yeah”, Jungkook is whispering as he can’t seem to stop kissing your cheek and jawline. He gives you a soft squeeze, exhaling against your neck, “you smell so good.”

You lean into his kisses, closing your eyes halfway. You reach up to run your hands along the arm he has around you, sharing in comfort this way. It feels so nice to be with each other.

“No but seriously, how do you smell so nice?” he whispers.

“I put on perfume.”

“I know, but it’s insane how good you smell like”, he nuzzles his nose into you to the point where it squishes, “I can’t get enough of it.”

You giggle, moving away just a little because the movement tickled. Jungkook soothes it with kisses.

“And you’re so pretty in your dress”, he continues to fanboy, caressing your side with his fingertips, “and the jewellery fits you so well and then your makeup looks flawless. Wah baby, you’re seriously making my heart race.”

You giggle, feeling like bursting in happiness. It feels so good to have your effort appreciated. You feel even prettier than you already did.

Jungkook sighs happily, cuddling closer.

“My wifey”, he whispers, squeezing you gently, “my lovely wifey.”

“Kookie oh god”, you squeal and overtaken by happiness, you roll over to attack his face with kisses. You squish his cheeks between your hands for it, making him giggle.

You have the upper hand for a second before Jungkook rolls you onto your back and scoops you up in his arms, attacking your face and neck with kisses and nuzzles.

You squeak at first but soon end up cackling in a rather unflattering manner. To Jungkook, it is the sweetest sound ever. This is what your true happiness sounds like. You couldn’t fake this even if you tried to.

“Mhm baby”, Jungkook stops his kisses, lifting his head. He’s got your hands pinned above your head, clutched tightly in his fingers. You gaze up at him, feeling so safe like this. Jungkook studies your features. They look so pretty, “fuck baby, you’ve got me wanting to act up. I love it when you laugh.”

“Koo”, you whisper, squeezing his hands.

This nickname. Jungkook knows that it only falls from your lips when he’s got you feeling submissive. It’s during those moments when he made you feel safe and giddy and taken care of. It won’t ever lose its spark for him.

“Mhm, baby?” he asks, placing his elbows on each side of your head. Your arms stretch further above your head, his fingers tighten around your hands.

“I don’t know”, you breathe, looking at his pierced lips, “just wanted to say it.”

“You’re so cute”, he whispers and steals a kiss. You make sure he doesn’t leave by chasing him.

Jungkook allows you to kiss him and play with his lip piercings. You love to trace them with your tongue, suck them between your lips and gently tug on them with your teeth. He loves when you do that. It feels so good to him, getting him all riled up for you.

The blanket is keeping you warm. Jungkook is halfway on top of you, having one of his legs between yours. The ocean is rushing in the background, but the only sounds you really take in, are Jungkook’s little noises. He is such a vocal kisser, always letting you know that he loves it. His hands are pinning you down, his grip is so gentle yet strong.

You break the kiss because you needed to squirm and look at him, “Koo”, you keen quietly, rubbing your thighs against his leg. His jeans feel rough against your skin.

“Yes, princess?” Jungkook whispers in a raspy voice and his eyes gleaming in fondness.

You giggle, growing smaller in safe submission. Jungkook chuckles deeply, lowering his eyes halfway.

“My princess”, he rasps, eliciting another giggle from you.

You can’t explain what he makes you feel. It’s a sensation deep in your chest. Your heart races and you can genuinely sense a giddiness around it. Safety and comfort fills you as well. And the desire to be completely and utterly his’. All you know is that you love this feeling and that tonight it feels especially good.

“Koo, I wanna kiss you.”

“I wanna kiss you too, princess”, Jungkook says and abandons your wrists for the sake of cradling your cheeks. You cup his face instantly, pulling him into a kiss.

Jungkook purrs happily, finding your rhythm without problems. He kissed you enough times by now that he knows exactly how you like it.

Your hands slide to the back of his head, feeling up his prickly undercut. Jungkook moans softly, tracing your upper lip with his tongue to let you know that he likes the touch. You like it as well, repeating it over and over again.

You witnessed most of Jungkook’s hair phases. You witnessed his permed hair, his short hair, his long hair and every length in between. He currently keeps his hair short and with an undercut. You always help him keep it neat. It feels so good under your fingertips. Prickly when you dance them up and soft when you move them down again.

Jungkook is moaning a lot which makes it feel even better. Bear in mind that his sounds aren’t of completely horny nature. No. Your husband also moans because of yummy food or a relaxing massage. His noises right now merely meant that he is enjoying this as much as he can.

He rolls hips into your thigh, purring deeply. His knee rubs against your middle this way, sending warmth through you. Okay, perhaps there is also desire in his noises.

“Fuck baby, you’re perfect”, Jungkook rasps and breaks the kiss for the sake of worshiping your neck, “my perfect princess. Mhm, babygirl. My babygirl”, he murmurs as his puffy lips dance over your neck and jawline.

“Koo”, you sigh, “Koo, I wanna go back.”

“Yes?”

You nod your head.

“If that’s so. Come, princess”, he says and sits back on his heels, pulling you up with him. Like this, your legs are around him and he can touch your upper arms.

He is so much taller than you in this position, keeping your eyes locked on his face by doing nothing but existing.

“My pretty girl”, he whispers, caressing your cheek.

You giggle, “Koo, stop teasing. I wanna leave.”

“Fine, okay”, he laughs, “let’s go.”

You and he pack up together and go back to your house, holding hands as you do. You leave the blanket outside, wiping off your feet before entering. Jungkook carries the empty cheesecake boxes while you carry the blanket you used to cover yourselves with. You discard it on the armchair by the glass door while Jungkook leaves for the kitchen.

You and he meet in the hallway.

“Come with me”, you say, taking his hands.

“More surprises?” he gasps.

“Yeah”, you turn so you are facing him as you walk, “in my room.”

“Baby, goddamn it. You’re doing too much. My heart can handle only that much”, he gushes, making your own heart flutter.

“You’ll love it.”

“Of course I will. God, com’ere you perfect woman you”, he says and sweeps you off your feet to kiss you.

You giggle into the kisses, squeezing your legs around his waist as he carries you to your room.

You left the door open so it’s easy for Jungkook to enter the room without accidentally knocking you into the door. He knows that you and he arrived because his feet know the layout of your home blindly. The floors in your room are softer because you have most of it covered with vintage rugs. He sets you down, snaking his arms around you as his right hand naturally grabs your ass and squeezes. He hums into the kiss, tingling like crazy when your fingers scratch his undercut greedily.

“We gotta stop”, you murmur into the kiss.

“Why?” he asks into the kiss.

“The surprise.”

“Mhm you gotta break it”, he says and goes to kiss your neck, “I can’t stop without your help. Mhm baby, my baby”, he adds as his lips suck spots of sensitivity onto your skin.

“Koo”, you sigh, melting in his arm. You don’t want him to stop. He feels so good. Your entire body tingles and feels electric at the same time. You don’t want to stop, but you have to. It will be worth it. You push at his chest gently, breaking the kisses this way.

Jungkook stumbles back, licking his puffy lips hungrily. He touches your waist, gazing at you longingly.

“Close your eyes please”, you tell him.

“Fuck, you’re messing with me”, he says in a deep chuckle, but obeys. He even covers them with his hands as he naturally begins to play with his own lip piercings.

You work quickly to get ready. You don’t want to stop kissing either, so being apart from him is just as torturous for you than it is for him. You take off your dress and the shirt he borrowed you, but keep the jewellery on. You check to see if the set of lingerie you picked out sits nicely on your body and then get on top of the mattress. He has his back turned to you

“Okay, open your eyes”, you tell him.

Jungkook obeys, “huh? where are you?” he asks and looks around the room.

“Here.”

He turns.

“Holy fuck baby”, he gasps, falling to his knees instantly, “look at you. What are you doing? Baby”, he asks in an enchanted laugh and his hands cradling your cheeks instantly.

You kneeled down on the mattress, presenting a pair of black leather handcuffs to him.

“Look at you. Holy fuck, look at you. Baby, fuck babygirl”, he babbles as he lets his hands run over your body hungrily, “is this a new set? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Yeah, it’s new. Do you like it?”

“I fucking love it. Holy shit, you’re so fucking beautiful. babygirl, please just”, he comes closer and squeezes your waist, “holy fuck, just holy fuck.”

He exhales shakily and finally looks at the handcuffs you present perfectly on the palms of your hands.

“What’s that?” he asks and picks them up.

You turn your back to him and present your wrists to him behind your back. You make sure to arch so he can have the perfect view of your ass and just how little fabric is covering it.

Jungkook growls hungrily, placing his big hand on your hip while his lips begin nipping on your shoulder desperately.

“Did you wear this under the dress?” he asks.

“Yeah”, you sigh, rolling your head back to rest it against him.

“Holy fuck and I had no idea. Oh my fucking god, I might pass out”, he gets out and rolls his crotch against your ass, “I’m gonna fuck you so fucking hard, babygirl. You’ve brought this upon yourself, I hope you’re aware of it.”

“Yeah”, you whimper, meeting his needy grinds, “Koo please tie me up. I need to be punished.”

“Yeah you do”, Jungkook rasps in his sexy Dom voice, biting your neck gently, “my sexy woman, fuck I could eat you up”, he adds and breaks away from you with a heavy heart. He wants to keep kissing you and grinding against you, but he has some hands to tie.

He works skillfully. Those handcuffs aren’t foreign to him. He tied you up with them a hundred times before and had the honour to be tied up with them just as many times. They’re a staple in your sexlife and up until now, they haven’t disappointed yet. He tightens them just enough that you feel pressure around your wrists, but not tight enough to cause pain. He checks the tightness with a finger asking you if you were feeling comfortable to which you said that you are.

He glides his hands to the back of your head. Your hair tangles with his fingers. He pushes, pressing you face first into the mattress. You let it happen with a needy moan and your ass chasing him in needy wiggles. He keeps his hand on your head while he undresses with his other hand. He makes sure that you can see it happening. His tattooed, bejeweled hand is working his belt open and later works on unbuttoning his jeans, all while his fingers are keeping a tight grip on your head. The aspect of power and feeling so vulnerable in his presence makes you dripping fucking wet. Jungkook slips his jeans down and somehow wiggles out of them.

“Stay down”, he orders in the end as he needs to use both hands to get them over his thighs. They’re huge thighs. No wonder he needs help.

You don’t even think about disobeying him. You rarely want to disobey him because you have such a great time being his sub that all you want is to receive, receive and receive all his attention. Jungkook is so smitten for you that he will be rough with you when you beg for it, so you don’t really feel like acting up. Not when you can simply beg for a punishment.

Jungkook keeps his briefs on. Tight Calvins, which seem so tiny now that his cock has grown so much. His bulge is huge, having grown all the way down his left leg as this is where he stuffed his cock. He takes off his shirt and throws it to the side.

Then he finally closes in on you again, connecting his crotch with your ass as he bends over. He buries his hand back in your hair, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear as he talks. His chest is pressed into your back, his nipple piercings are rubbing against you.

“You’re such a good girl. I didn’t even have to repeat my orders”, he rasps as he continuously grinds into your ass, “we’re gonna work with the traffic light system tonight ‘cause I need you to keep me in fucking check. Understood?”

“Yes”, you keen, wiggling your hands just to get a feel for his abs.

He tingles at your touch, rewarding you with a flex of his abs.

“Good girl. Let’s practice right now, okay?”

You nod your head as best as his tight grip allows you to.

“Good girl. I’ll ask you how you feel right now, then I’ll give you five spanks because you still need to get your punishment and then you’ll tell me again how you feel. Are we understood?”

“Yes”, your voice trembled as you spoke.

“Good girl. How do you-”

“Green”, you fall into his voice.

Jungkook chuckles, kissing your cheek, “fine, seven times. Naughty girl, falling into my question like that”, he rasps and straightens up. He runs his hand up and down your ass, holding you in place with his other hand on your hip.

You moan even if he is barely doing anything. You are so fucking needy for him. He knows exactly how to get your mind fucked. Making a play out of using the traffic light system is only something your husband could think of and it’s making you so needy that you want to keep chanting “green, green, green” over and over again. But you don’t. Instead you arch your back and wait for the first spank with your lungs barely wanting to work.

Jungkook lifts his hands and lands the first spank of seven.

“Ah”, you moan loudly and tremble. So much pressure released with this spank, but there is still so much left that it barely felt like relief.

Jungkook lifts his hand again. The connection is rough, forcing your ass to jiggle and you to moan. By the time Jungkook lands his third spank, you realise that he doesn’t relieve you of any of the pressure, on the contrary it is growing with each spank. With the fourth spank, you are fucking your hips back against nothing, moaning squeakily because the movement makes your panties grind against your clit and that feels so good right now.

“Stay still”, Jungkook orders, increasing his grip on your hip, “I didn’t tell you to squirm for me, did I?”

“Koo please”, you beg, arching your back.

“Yeah, that’s better. Keep arching your back, it makes your ass look so fucking perfect, babygirl”, he praises and rewards you with two consecutive spanks on your ass. Harsh and rough. Burning heat remains, pain crawls over your skin and stays because he keeps his hot palm pressed against you.

Only one more left. You wiggle your hands, spilling another moan. You are so sad that it’s almost over. He could spank you for the next hour and you wouldn’t grow bored.

Jungkook lifts his hand and lands the last spank, ending it by slipping his hand between your legs to rub your pussy over your panties. He does it with enough pressure to force your legs to tremble and for your voice to get incredibly squeaky as you moan.

“There we go. We did it”, he speaks as if he isn’t currently rubbing your pussy to a forced orgasm and making you shake like crazy in the process. His left hand still keeps gripping your hip to keep you in place. It’s like he isn’t even aware of what he is doing to you, “now tell me how you feel, babygirl.”

“Green”, you whine, “green, please Koo please.”

“There we go, such a good girl and so wet too”, he praises, slipping his hand away to instead grab your ass and part it for him. The fabric is small enough that he can see your hole this way. The most vulnerable part is still covered by your panties, but the pretty surrounding area is on full display just for him. You are clenching it needily, writhing in his hands.

“How was that for practice? Do you think you can do the traffic light system, babygirl?” he asks as he studies your hole. He is so obsessed with it, fighting the urge to lick you until you are soft enough that he can fill you with his cock. He shouldn’t be greedy. Not tonight.

“Yes, I can. Oh god, you’re hurting me”, you whine and sob softly.

“Needy?” he asks with a smirk.

“Yeah, please Koo please. Hurts. Wanna be fucked, please.”

He chuckles deeply and pushes your ass closed again slowly, “cute”, he says and gives your buttocks one last squeeze for good measures. He takes your panties off, making you moan with it. He doesn’t say anything to it however, which drives you so much more insane. It feels so nonchalantly to him while you are almost breaking apart. He places your soaked panties aside and studies you for a moment. Your pussy is wet and swollen and your hole is finally exposed to him completely.

“So pretty”, is all he says and then he breaks away from behind you to instead drop in the sheets beside you. You lift your head, looking at him with confusion. He wiggles to get comfortable and sighs once he is happy with his position, then he meets your eyes.

“Do you want me, mhm?” he taunts.

“Yes please”, you beg, sitting up so you can squeeze your legs together, “oh god, Koo. I feel so sensitive.”

“I know princess, I saw how you were shaking”, he taunts and smirks. He nods his head, “go sit on my face. I want you to.”

“Koo, oh god”, you get out. You love to obey this order even if it is hard to do so. You are so wobbly on your legs already and all he did was spank you and rub your clothed pussy. Yes, you are aware that he is doing so much more than that. The entire evening and the way he is taking control right now is adding to how wobbly you feel.

Thankfully for you, Jungkook helps you get on top of him, holding your hips safely.

“There we go”, he says, snuggling his head into the pillow as he helps you with those last few inches, “closer, babygirl.”

You obey, feeling your pussy throb in anticipation. You are pretty sure that you already dripped onto his face. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind, on the contrary. He moans as he turns his head and buries his face in your inner thigh. He moans again, inhaling hungrily.

“Fuck baby, you smell so good”, he purrs, nuzzling his nose into your inner thigh deeper. He inhales and exhales, “did you put perfume there too?”

“I did, yeah.”

“Baby”, he growls, grabbing your hips to squeeze them desperately, “fuck, I’m gonna go insane. You perfect woman you. Fucking sit on my face, babygirl. I’m actually serious.”

You relax just enough that he can finally tug you on top of his face. He growls deeply, welcoming your sweet pussy with an eager mouth. He goes gentle on normal days, guiding you into the sensations with soft kisses and tender licks. Tonight he doesn’t care about etiquette. Tonight he forces you into the sensation with eager sucks and hungry, wet licks, sending shakes through your legs.

“Sensitive”, you squeak out, scrunching your face, “Koo, I’m sensitive.”

“I know”, he is growling, “try to breathe babygirl”, he orders and continues his starved licks. He knows that you can take them. You just like to whine for the sake of it. Of course you’re sensitive, but you’re his good girl. You can take it. You have to take it because Jungkook can’t go slow tonight. You’ve got him desperate in desire.

You put so much effort into tonight. Way much effort than he anticipated for and he doesn’t take it for granted. He feels overwhelmed in love for you, he wants to rile you up just to make you cum over and over again until you physically can’t have another orgasm again. Only feasting on you like a starved man helps with it.

You squirm above him, tugging at the handcuffs.

“Koo, I’m sensitive”, you whimper breathily, scrunching your eyes closed, “ah, mhm, ah plea- ah.”

He growls hungrily, grabbing your waist to keep you down on his mouth. He loves it when you shake and he especially loves it when you’re sitting on him as it happens. Your thighs are squeezing his head, worsening his hearing because they are over his ears. You feel so soft and warm that Jungkook hopes you squeeze him even harder. Your weight is perfect on his face to give him a sense of disorientation. He knows that he’s on your mattress, but if he didn’t have visual confirmation beforehand, he would have no idea where he is because currently all he sees, hears, feels, tastes and smells is you. This is the best kind of sensory distortion he could wish for.

Jungkook sucks your clit between his lips and begins suckling on it with deep moans rumbling in his chest. Your thighs shake around his head, you keen desperately.

It feels like burning electricity to have him eat you out. It is hard to breathe and yet you do way too much of it. You are panting, moaning between your breaths because this is all you can do. He already messed you up so much beforehand. His spanks, his words, his attitude and he nonchalant pussy rubbing he did, everything already made you so sensitive that you could have orgasmed right then and there. So to have his hot, dripping mouth make angry love to your pussy feels like too much.

“Sensitive, oh god”, you get out and then another wave of pleasure shakes your body, “Koo, oh god…”

The truth is, you love when he’s like that. Of course you love when he eases you into the sensations, when he is gentle and takes his time. But there is something especially hot about Jungkook losing his composure and eating you out as if you were his last meal on earth. He gets so rough with it, so disrespectful and messy. He doesn’t care about how dirty he gets or how many marks of sensitivity he leaves on your body. He is stronger and during those moments he doesn’t shy away from showing you just how much stronger he is. And that he will use this strength to keep you pinned on top of his eager mouth until you give him what he wants.

“Oh god Koo”, you whimper, convulsing on top of his face as he finally releases your pulsating clit to lick it quickly. He managed to get her so swollen and engorged that each flick of his tongue rewrites your definition of pleasure. “I have to cum. I’m sorry, I can’t hold it.”

Jungkook moans into you. He doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t give you time to catch your footing. No, this man likes that you are losing yourself, making sure that you are losing yourself even quicker.

“You’re so unfair”, you choke out and fall over the edge, “Koo, ah! You’re so unfair, a-ah.”

You collapse into the pillows, bending over so you could reach them. But even in the new position, Jungkook makes sure to keep your pussy locked onto his mouth as to lick you through your orgasm, growling and moaning into you as his hands leave bruises deep under your skin.

“Koo please holy fuck, please”, you wail into the pillow, shaking uncontrollably.

He growls into you, gripping your hips tightly to make sure you don’t flee before he allows you. You need to know what kind of orgasms you get when you put so much effort into date night. He needs you to fucking know that the more work you put into it, the harder he’ll make you cum. This is your reward as much as it is your punishment because Jungkook is going crazy for you.

“Stop please”, you beg, “oh god, I can’t do that, ah!” you plead, writhing on top of his face when he doesn’t slow down even now that your orgasm became overstimulation. Your clit is throbbing. Each time he drags his wet tongue over it, you swear that you have to pass out.

Your legs shake for a few more moments and then strength genuinely forsakes you. You collapse onto him, sitting your full weight on his face.

“Mhmhm”, he lets out in surprise, lifting you off as best as possible.

“Sorry, ah”, you whimper, fleeing instantly. You sit down in the sheets next to him, looking at him with glassy eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine”, his voice is rough in the sexiest way, “just squished my nose, it didn’t hurt. Are you okay?”

“No, I’m embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Hey”, he sits up and cups your face to pull you into a kiss. He is covered in your orgasm, feeding you your taste with sloppy, addictive tongue kisses.

He kisses you until he can hear you whimper again. He knows that he’s got you distracted and so he breaks the kiss with a soft tug on your lower lip.

“Are you quiet, mhm?” he asks.

You nod your head, looking at him with glassy, but happy eyes.

“Good. Now get comfy in the pillows. I’m not done with you.”

“Koo, oh god” you say, obeying happily. You rest back against the heap of pillows, shuffling your cuffed arms into a comfortable position.

“Good girl”, Jungkook praises and takes your legs to prop them up on the sheets. He spreads them with his hands on your inner thighs, “don’t close them until I’m done. Understood?”

“Yeah”, you say, nodding your head. You are so exposed like this and you love it. Jungkook makes you feel so safe. And needy enough that the most comfortable position to be in, is having your legs spread open.

“Good girl”, he says and connects his right hand with your pussy. He rubs his fingers up and down your sensitive heat, parting your swollen lips this way.

You chase him instantly, letting out a soft moan. This is the kind of tenderness he normally shows.

“So soft and swollen for me”, he rasps, staring deep into your eyes, “can I feel up my good girl inside, mhm?”

“Please”, you beg, bucking your hips up.

“Thank you, babygirl. You’re making me so happy”, he says and massages your entrance with his two longest fingers. He inches closer, sliding his left hand to the back of your head. He grabs a bundle of your hair and uses it to gently tilt your head up.

“Koo”, you whimper, switching between staring into his eyes and gazing at his lips. You could kiss him if only he moved in a little bit more. Your heart is hammering in your chest, his touch becomes so much more intense.

“Who do you belong to, baby?” he rasps.

“Koo”, you moan, painting burning adoration onto his features.

“Yes baby, you do. You’re my perfect girl”, he praises and rewards you with his fingers.

The breach feels so intense that you move closer all on your own, seeking comfort by moaning his nickname against his lips and trying to suck on them afterwards. It doesn’t hurt, but it is difficult to handle being filled with him when he’s got you so deep in subspace. Being fingered is the most amazing, overwhelming reward he could give you. You feel so close to tears because of how good it makes you feel.

“Breathe baby, breathe”, he whispers, pumping them in and out of you slowly, “you’re so tight. Does it hurt?”

“No”, you squeak, closing your eyes, “it feels so good”, you whine desperately and let out a little sob, “Koo, please don’t stop, please p-please.”

“I’m not gonna stop, babygirl. I’m only just beginning”, he assures you and helps you lie back again with a guiding hand on the nape of your neck, “you know how fucking greedy I am. It’ll take a while till I’m done with you”, he adds and slides his thumb to your clit to rub circles on her.

You squeeze your eyes shut, arching your back.

“Thank you, Koo. Thank…you”, you get out and then you can’t possibly produce any more words. You have to make sounds. Whimpers, sighs, sobs and moans. This is all you can do. All you want to do. He makes you feel so good. His fingers are long and because he uses more than one, also girthy enough to truly fill you out. He knows just how to fuck them into you, knows where every one of your sensitive spots lies and knows exactly how to massage them to turn every second into a moment of mindblowing pleasure. This is the kind of fingering you couldn’t even do yourself. Only Jungkook can give it to you and you’re so perfectly happy to experience it right now.

“You’re taking me so well, princess”, he praises and leans in to pepper kisses along your jawline and neck. You roll your head to the side, allowing him better access. It feels so good. You can’t say more about how he makes you feel other than that it feels so good. He keeps a steady rhythm with his fingers and his lips are so soft against your skin. You can also feel the little breaths he releases and the honest moans he makes. It tickles so nicely, making you even more sensitive to him.

“Mhm princess”, he purrs, tugging at the strap of your bra with his teeth, “I know you wanna show off your new piece, but can I take it off? Wanna lick your pretty nipples.”

“Please”, you beg, arching your back.

“Thank you, princess. I swear it’s driving me crazy”, he says and begins to work. He has to slip his fingers out, but makes up for it by offering his thigh for you to grind against. You moan, getting lost in the sensation. You writhe and squirm just so you can fuck yourself on his hard thigh all while Jungkook works on getting your bra off. He needs to unhook the handcuff chain for it, but works so skillfully that you barely even notice. Just as you don’t notice that he ties your hands in the front this time around until he drags your arms up by the chain.

You peel your eyes open, meeting his eyes. They are dark in pleasure, his brows are tugged tight giving him such a masculine dominance. You spill wet desperation on his thigh, squeezing your legs around it.

“Koo”, you whimper, stretching your arms further above your head.

“Keep them there until I’m done with you. Understood?”

“Yes, Koo.”

“Good girl. Now tell me how you feel.”

“Green”, you whimper, throbbing on his thigh.

“Good girl, she remembers the system”, he says and pushes your legs apart again. He slips his soaked thigh from your pussy, replacing this pleasure with the pleasure his fingers give you by slipping his longest two back into your pussy. He presses his thumb against your clit and begins finger fucking you deeply and a lot quicker than he did the first time.

“Koo, ah”, you moan, dropping your head deep into the pillows as your legs begin to shake. You know that those shakes will only grow from now on.

“That’s my good girl. You got so wet on my thigh, it has me wanting to act up”, he rasps and drops his left hand over your wrists to pin them into place. Now pinned down, naked and with your pussy squeezing his tattooed fingers, Jungkook finally pays attention to your tits. He would go gentle on other days. Massage you first, give you kisses on your tender flesh before thinking of your nipples. Not tonight. He needs to have them in your mouth. Now.

Jungkook begins with your left nipple, takes it between his lips to lick and sucks it greedily. The pleasure is hot. You swear you can feel the path it takes as it goes straight to your pussy.

You writhe under him, fucking yourself on his fingers as he forces the neediest moans out of you. Jungkook only stops sucking on your left nipple when he can taste how sensitive he’s got you. You get all unbearably hot on his tongue when that happens. He leaves a sloppy trail of spit on your nipple and shifts his attention to your right nipple. He takes it between his lips and begins the eager feast anew.

He moans, furrowing his brows. It feels so much smaller in comparison to your left nipple. Fuck, he’s got you so swollen. Jungkook increases the pressure around your wrist and fucks his fingers deeper. His palm presses against your clit, his fingers reach your deeper spots. Judging by how you are gasping for air and moaning brokenly, he’s hit the jackpot.

You squirm under him, your legs shake, your arms desperately try to break free. You feel so broken. He’s going to make you cum again and it’s going to feel so hot.

“Koo, Koo, Koo pl-lease”, you get out, moaning desperately.

Jungkook lifts his puffy lips from your nipple just to see how he ruins you.

“Koo, aah”, you drag out your moan, feeling yourself fall when Jungkook moans right with you, nodding his head as if to tell you that it was okay for you to break.

Your eyes go out of focus and roll back, closing just in sync with your orgasm hitting you. You are moaning so much and Jungkook doesn’t make it easier by moaning right with you.

“Yes babygirl, yes there we go”, he moans, fucking his fingers into you quickly, “fucking cum for me, aah yes, baby.”

Your voice cuts off with a gasp, you arch your back and feel what he does to you. He is pressing down on where it feels the best. It happens if you want to or not. You squirt on his fingers, soiling the sheets and his thigh with it.

“Yes babygirl, don’t hold back. That’s my babygirl, squirt for me”, he encourages you, helping you through the orgasm with expert touches.

Something shifts inside you. Something primal and insatiable. He’s such a good Dom right now. He’s got you ruined, squirting and so deep in safe subspace that you can’t really regulate what comes out of your mouth next.

“Daddy please. Please, oh god please.”

Jungkook falters in his touches for a moment, “holy fuck, what did you just say?”

You have no idea what you just said because you’re not sane yet. But Jungkook knows. Jungkook heard it and he is losing his fucking mind.

“Holy fuck, yes”, he growls, frowning as if he was angry. But he wasn’t angry, he was just overtaken by fucking desire for you, “that’s right. You’re Daddy’s babygirl. Holy fuck, I’m gonna fucking ruin you”, he spits and drops into the sheets before you. He keeps you in place with his left hand pressed to your stomach, resulting in his long fingers to poke against your sensitive spots even better. And then, only then, he connects his mouth with your pussy to make the angriest love to it.

“Koo!” you scream, twisting his hair instantly.

He didn’t even properly let you finish squirting and he is already stimulating your clit again. You tense up and feel another wave coming over you. You try to warn him, but he just fucks his fingers deeper and opens his mouth wider. So you are destined to empty yourself all over his face, sobbing his name because he makes you see fucking heaven and hell at the same time. Heaven because nothing feels better than Jungkook and hell because he is torturing you as if he hated you.

But he doesn’t hate you. He loves you. He is fucking obsessed with you. He breathes for you. And right now he is drinking from your sweet, sweet squirting pussy until you are empty and he fucking swallows every single droplet he can catch.

“Fuck baby”, he growls against you, twisting his fingers deeper, “say it again. One more time, please.”

“W-what?” you stutter.

“Daddy”, he growls and moans. Clarity comes back to you. You remember. You called him this word as he had you on the highest peak. You shudder and clench around him.

“Daddy”, you moan.

“Holy fuck”, Jungkook presses out and fucks the mattress, “babygirl”, he growls and connects his mouth back with your pussy.

“Ah, oh god Koo”, you squeak out, shaking uncontrollably, “it hurts, oh god ple-please.”

“Colour?”

“Green”, you sob, writhing on the sheets. They are so wet under you already and if Jungkook keeps this going, they’re going to get even wetter.

Jungkook growls and takes your clit between his lips again. Green means he can keep going. Green means you aren’t fucking done. Green means he is going to lick and finger you until he has you squirting again. Or pissing. Quite frankly, Jungkook doesn’t care about the difference. All he needs is for you to cum so fucking good that you wet yourself and feed him the sweetest liquid he ever tasted. He presses down on your tummy just so he can feel his own fingers rewrite your insides. Your stomach is so hard from all the tensing he is forcing you to do and Jungkook knows that the next one is going to be a good one. It has to be. You’re his good girl. You’re Daddy’s babygirl and if there is one thing he wants you to experience, it’s good fucking orgasms.

He didn’t even plan on eating you out again. He wanted to make you cum on his fingers and then take you missionary, but you twisted something in him. It’s not like he craved for you to call him like that, but rather that hearing this word from you shifted something inside him. He didn’t even know that he needed it until it left your lips and now he is going crazy. He needs you to orgasm one more time before he fills you with his cock. Jungkook curls his fingers in sync with his wet, sloppy tongue grinding against your clit.

“I have to cum, please”, you beg him, tugging at his hair because you know for a fact that you won’t be able to control yourself, “pl-please slow I- ah!”

Jungkook hears your begs and decides to use them as motivation. He knows that you are close and that you are currently trying to hold back in order not to squirt all over his face. He also knows that you’ve been married to him long enough that you are aware that he loves it when you do. So all this begging is just for show.

He fucks his fingers into you roughly, filling the air with the lewdest, wettest sounds.

“I’m sorry”, you sob and then it happens. Jungkook forces you to orgasm and with it, cover his face with your wetness. You twist his hair desperately, writhing in hot pleasure, “I’m sorry, I can’t stop it, ah!”

Jungkook growls, fucking the mattress angrily. This is it. This is his personal religion. The reason he fucking exists and the proof why he deserves such a title. He drinks you up until you have to pull him away from you.

“Please stop”, you beg him, dropping into the pillows while your body flinches as it recovers, “oh god. Ah fu-fuck.”

Jungkook slips his fingers out and kisses a path up your body. He doesn’t even care that he is leaving wet trails all over your skin, neither do you.

His hands cradle you, running along your sides until he can touch your upper back.

“Breathe for me”, he orders you and sucks on your jawline, “breathe baby, breathe.”

You breathe just like he tells you to do. It makes the recovering a little easier. Especially because Jungkook holds you so close and kisses you. You are disoriented and dizzy, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable because you’ve got Jungkook keeping you safe.

“There we go, breathe.”

You inhale and exhale, letting out a trembling whimper while your handcuffed hands reach for him. You manage to brush them over his neck and chest before you grow too weak and drop them again.

“Good girl. Colour?”

“Green”, you whimper.

“That’s good. I’m not done with you”, he whispers against your jaw and kisses his way up to your neck, “Daddy’s not done with his babygirl”, he rasps and chuckles deeply, “holy fuck, you did something to me with this. Holy fuck, I’m insane for you.”

You gulp repeatedly as you try to recover from what he just did to you. You want to say something, but all you can get out is “angmh” and then your voice forsakes you.

“I know, babygirl. But I’m still not done with you. I’m so fucking greedy for more”, he tells you and caresses your cheek, “you’re gonna take my cock and cum one more time. Understood?”

“Mhmgm”, you let out, writhing on the sheets weakly.

“Look at me.”

You obey even if opening your eyes feels impossible at first. You moan, arching your back at the sight of him. He is wet and dripping from your orgasms, staring at you with dark eyes and a tight jaw.

“Are we understood?” he insists in a deep voice, shaking your head gently.

You nod your head.

“Speak up.”

“Yes”, you whimper and reach for his face, “Koo please.”

He gives you a soft smile and kisses your palm.

“Good girl”, he praises, then takes your wrists to open the chain again. He drags you into a sitting position, “turn around.”

You obey, allowing him to close the cuffs on your back again.

“Lie down on your tummy.”

You obey.

He lets you rest for a second, but judging by the noises, he is taking off his briefs and lubing up his cock. He nudges your legs apart with his knee and connects his lubed fingers with your pussy.

“You’re such a good girl for preparing lube”, he praises and fills you with two fingers to test how sensitive you are.

You writhe and squirm, but don’t seem to be in pain.

“Koo please”, you beg, clenching around his fingers. He takes them away from you, but makes up for it by rubbing his cock against your entrance. You squirm, trying to feel for him but Jungkook drags your hands away by the chain.

“Behave”, he warns and pushes inside.

“Ah”, you let out, squeezing your eyes shut as his cock fills you up. The stretch is intense in the best way possible. It doesn’t hurt, but Jungkook got you so deep in the mindspace of total submission that it feels sacrilegious to finally have his cock. Something missing finally returned and it’s leaving you breathless.

“Fuck baby, so tight”, he growls, furrowing his brows, “how are you doing? Hurts?”

“No”, you whimper, “no, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t. Daddy’s so greedy for your pussy”, he says and bottoms out, “fuck”, he moans, dropping his head as his strong fingers dimple your ass, “breathe baby, you’re tightening.”

“It feels so good”, you whimper, “I can’t help it. I’m Daddy’s cock slut”, you get out and sob needily, fucking back onto his cock.

“You’re driving me insane, holy shit”, Jungkook presses out through gritted teeth and meets you movement until he has you fucked back into obedience. It takes embarrassingly little time for you to stop pushing back to instead lie on the mattress and take him with needy moans.

Not that Jungkook minded you fucking your tight pussy on his cock, but he needs you to understand that tonight he is controlling the scene. That every second of pleasure you receive is because he wants it to happen exactly how it happens. And that means that he will make you squirt on his face as often as he wants to and it means that he will fuck your sweet, little pussy until he’s either spend or you genuinely can’t anymore. There is no in between, he will only stop once one of you is too ruined to keep going.

“That’s better. I want you obedient tonight, okay?”

“Yeah…” you keen and spill tears, “Koo, please don’t stop, please.”

“Mhhhm so sweet…. my baby’s so sweet. Fuuck.”

Jungkook presses your legs together with his strong thighs and begins moving out of his hips. He is resting on top of your thighs, caging them in and feeling them shake each time he bottoms out. You moan so sweetly, presenting your pussy to him as he fills it with his cock. He can watch it shift and change as he fills you up. His cock gets wetter each time he pulls out again.

“You look so fucking pretty like this”, he rasps, pushing your hands aside so he could grab your ass and spread it apart. You tighten around him, Jungkook feels it and you feel it too.

“Koo! Ah, ah, ha”, you squeak out your moans, spilling tears of pleasure on the sheets. His cock goes so deep. Your hole is so tiny in this position. You don’t want him to stop. He is rubbing against you so good that you swear you could orgasm just from getting your pussy fucked. No stimulation of your clit or sensitive spots needed, all you need is the sensation of Jungkook’s veiny cock fucking past those first few inches of your wet pussy.

“Yeah keep moaning baby, keep fucking moaning for me”, he encourages you while his pleasure darkened eyes run over your body. There is a reason why he needs to part your ass. It exposes his two favourite holes to fuck. Your pussy, so so wet and stuffed with cock and your ass so so empty and slickened from all your orgasms. Jungkook growls deeply and develops such unbearable anger at your pretty hole for driving him so fucking mad that he has to spit on it.

“Ah!” you flinch and clench around nothing. His spit feels burning hot on your hole. Jungkook massages it into you with rough circles, basking in how much squirmier you get under him.

“Fuck, I’m going insane. Holy fuck”, he moans and picks up the lube. He opens it with his teeth and flips it just to squirt some all over your ass. He throws the opened bottle aside afterwards, rolling his hips deeper into you.

“Koo…what….is that?” you get out.

“Just something to make it slippery”, he rasps and begins spreading the lube all over your ass and lower back, “want you fucking wet and sticky, babygirl”, he says and rubs his wet fingers up and down your hole while his hips pick up speed.

To think that he is covering you in lube for the sole purpose of making you messy and to know that he gets pleasure out of the view, ruins you.

“Koo, Da-”, you manage to get out and then your body betrays you as you lose every sense of control.

“Argh fuck”, Jungkook spits angrily, scrunching his face as your orgasm not only surprises you but him as well, “holy fuck”, he laughs and drops his head, “you’re cumming again? Holy fuck baby, you’re such a good girl. Yeah, you keep shaking for me.”

You do exactly that. You shake for him. Cum for him. Cry for him. While he fucks you through it in the stickiest, hottest pronebone you ever found yourselves in.

He isn’t finished with you afterwards. He lets you know with a growl and his cock pulling out not for the purpose of stopping, but so he could pull you onto all fours. He twists the chain of the handcuffs between his tattooed fingers and rubs his cock between your buttocks. The lube makes it easy to do so. Despite how ruined he has you, you arch your back just so you can present yourself to him better. Jungkook lingers on your hole, rubbing his cockhead against it.

“You’re shaking so much. How pretty”, he taunts, giving your hole repeated spanks with his cock.

“Koo”, is all you manage to get out. There are no other words in your brain right now. Only his title. You feel so fucked. Ruined. Broken. And you don’t want this to end yet.

“Green?”

You nod your head, arching your back to get closer to him.

“Mhhhm”, Jungkook purrs deeply and stops his spanks to instead rub his cock against your hole again, “you have no work tomorrow, do you?”

“No?” you get out.

“Good, means I have time to prepare you. I wanna fuck your ass tomorrow”, he says and applies just enough pressure that you feel a stretch without him slipping inside.

“A-ah”, you moan, curling your toes.

“Not tonight though, need to cream my babygirl’s pussy with my cum”, he says and fucks his cock into your pussy in one maddening stroke.

You whimper, feeling your knees buckle. Jungkook pulls you back onto him by your handcuffs, keeping you upright this way. It’s difficult to hold on. His fingers are so slippery from all the lube play he’s been doing. He still holds on, looking at how tied up and helpless he’s got you and loving every second of it. Your pussy is so wet and hot, squeezing his swollen cock and reminding him why he is so fucking obsessed with you. Why sex with you won’t ever get boring, even after all those years together.

“Koo”, you whimper, spilling tears on the sheets.

“Not long anymore. My cock’s so fucking sensitive for you, I’m close”, he encourages you, rolling his hips into you in slow strokes.

“Harder please”, you beg.

“Fuck”, he spits and speeds up instantly. He grips your hip with his slippery hand and twists the chains to the point where he tugs you off the mattress and you hang on by nothing but the cuffs. Like this, Jungkook watches your tits bounce, increasing his speed to the point where his heavy balls slap against your clit repeatedly. He can go so deep this way and he’s fucked you well enough that your pussy’s shaped for no one but him. You can fit him. From his sensitive tip all the way down to his girthy base. If he could, he would go even further, reminding your insides who owns them with animalistic thrusts.

“Fuck baby”, he is growling through gritted teeth, dimpling your hip, “you’re making me fucking angry. Ha!” he laughs squeakily, contorting his face in pleasure, “you feel so good. Holy shit. How is it for you?”

“Go-goo-good”, you he fucks the word out of you and fucks moans out of you right afterwards. They are squeaky and sound not at all like you. But Jungkook knows you and he knows that this is how you sound when you’ve hit the peak of pleasure. This is the rawest, most honest version you will ever show and only he gets to experience it.

“Yeah? It’s good?” he is panting, dripping sweat. He is fucking so goddamn hard and it’s stealing his strength. You keep clenching around him, his knees are so wobbly because of you, but he fucks through the weakness. You want it hard and if there is one thing he’s good at, it’s fucking you hard.

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” you chant, writhing in his strong hold. His body is colliding with yours each time he bottoms out. The impact feels punishing and like ecstasy.

“Yeah urgh”, he growls, throwing his head back, “I have to cum soon. It’s too good.”

“Soon, ple-please”, you beg, clenching around him desperately. He will make you cum one more time. Then every single orgasm you could experience will have shook your body. You need it. You need it so bad. The thought that tomorrow you will experience how good he can make you cum with your ass as well, pushes you closer to the edge stroke by fucking stroke.

“Fuck, you’re torturing me”, Jungkook growls and buries his cock deep inside to paint patterns on your a-spot, “like that? Mhm, is Daddy fucking you how you need it?”

“Yes! Oh god”, your voice switches from squeaks to animalistic growls, “holy fuck, you’re making me cum”, you growl and convulse in the most uncontrollable and honest way possible, “Koo, Daddy…. fuuuck”, you moan deeply as your orgasm burns you from the inside out.

“___”, Jungkook moans and throws his head back. There is a lot he can handle, but what he can’t do is listen to you growl like that. It throws him over the edge instantly, forcing his hips to still because he cums so fucking hard that he sees black for a few seconds. You drop onto the sheets because his grip loosened around the handcuffs. It forces Jungkook to fall over. His sticky hand grips the back of your head, keeping you down as he pumps you full of cum and growls into your ear.

Three, two, one.

Jungkook whimpers and begins moaning squeakily, hugging you against his chest as he drags out his orgasm with slow rolls of his hips.

You collapse with the sheets. Jungkook follows, putting almost all of his weight on you as his twitchy hips fuck his cock into you. He doesn’t want his orgasm to stop. Not yet.

“You feel so good, oh god”, he whimpers, hugging you tightly as he tries to at least shift some of his weight onto his elbow, “please clench for me, please.”

You obey even if your energy is at a dangerously low level. You know that once Jungkook satisfied his needs, you won’t be able to go again. You are fucking spend.

“Thank you, ah baby”, he mewls and lets out a soft sob, “I love you so much. Oh god, again.”

Yes he is sensitive. Yes he will make it your problem. Yes he is going to fill you up until you can’t hold it in anymore.

And yes you love it, moaning with him as Jungkook brings himself over the edge a second time.

“I love you, I love you, I love you”, he chants.

“I love you too, Koo I love you too”, you answer him each time he does, healing with each confession of love you exchange.

Jungkook pulls out after his high dies down, fucking his still hard cock between your thighs so he could grow soft there. You are so wet and hot there, giving him the kind of pressure he currently needs. And as he feels your closeness a little longer with the help of your thighs, he begins kissing the side of your face. He brushes aside whatever strands of hair stuck to your face as he fucked you into a state of ruin and then it is already time for him to litter every inch he can reach with his love.

“Good job, my good girl. Holy fuck, good job”, he praises in a trembling voice, “you did so well. I love you so much. Good job, babygirl, good job.”

You enjoy his affection with a racing heart and a dizzy head. You can feel him throb between your legs while his warm cum slowly seeps out of you. His chest is wet and sticky and you can feel his heart racing. This is such a healing state to be in.

“Good job”, he whispers and exhales shakily, “shit, I’m ruined. How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Ruined too”, you murmur.

Jungkook shifts on top of you a little, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look at your face. You peel your eyes open, meeting his gaze. He looks as ruined as you feel.

“Are you in pain? I know I went at you quite hard”, he asks, caressing your cheek.

You shake your head, “it’s not uncomfortable.”

“So you’re in pain. Baby, I’m sor-”

“It’s not uncomfortable”, you interrupt him, “I’m just ruined, but I like it”, you assure him and give him a droopy smile, “also I’m having a uterus cramp ‘cause you made me cum too many times. Imma be sore tomorrow.”

Jungkook smiles awkwardly, “but you’re okay, yeah?”

You nod your head, “I’m okay. You’re the best fucking hubby ever.”

Jungkook finally smiles honestly, snuggling into you. He kisses the bridge of your nose, pressing his lips against your forehead as he talks.

“No, you are the best wifey. You took me so well”, he whispers.

“I had so much fun”, you say, “thank you for ruining me.”

He snickers, “you’re saying stuff”, he murmurs and hums almost cutely. He kisses your forehead, “also, can we talk about what you called me?”

“Yeah, I didn’t think I needed this, but I did.”

“Yeah, same. My heart’s fucking pounding.”

“I can feel that.”

You and he giggle together. He snuggles closer, kissing your forehead repeatedly.

“You can definitely keep surprising me with it when you feel like it”, he says.

“Dearly noted”, you say and snicker, “wow, I’m actually done for. How the fuck are you always doing this?”

“It’s ‘cause I’m basically insane”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Kook stop, don’t make me laugh” you whine, trying to clench.

“Why?” he laughs.

“Cause I’m leaking.”

“Baby, it’s a little too late to worry about your sheets”, he says, cracking you up again and therefore forcing more of his cum to drip out of you.

“You’re the worst, it’s happening again”, you whine as you laugh.

He cackles, wiggling on top of you as happiness overtakes him.

“You’re so cute, oh god”, he squeaks and squishes his cheek against yours as he hugs you tightly, “my booboo bebe baba baby”, he coos, rubbing his cheek against yours.

You giggle squeakily, enjoying his snuggles with a scrunched nose and crinkled eyes.

He lifts his head again, wiping his thumb under your eyes gently. You grin up at him, feeling goofily much in love with him.

“Your makeup’s ruined. It’s so smudged.”

“I know. I cried so much.”

“Hot. Mhhm baby”, he moves in for a soft cheek bite, “you’re so sexy, babygirl. You’re making me crazy.”

“Whatever doofus”, you murmur and huff out air, “god, I’m leaking again“, you whine, making him laugh.

“Wait, let me quickly untie you and then you can go to the toilet”, he says and sits up so he can undo the handcuffs.

He crawls off of you and watches you roll to your back. You make grabby hands at him and so he lowers himself until you can pull him into a hug. Your limbs tangle with each other, but you make it work because you hugged each other a million times before.

“I’m too dead to walk. I’ll go later”, you mumble into him, “I wanna cuddle.”

Jungkook melts with you. His thigh is between your legs. Your head is resting on his upper arm as you snuggle your face into his chest.

“Cuddling sounds perfect”, he says and sighs happily when you drape your leg over his hips just to get even closer, “you’re leaking more like this, you know?”

“Yeah, but you’re right. We’re already dirty as fuck”, you snicker, “the lube play was hot, by the way.”

“Mhm yeah and when you squirted on my face. Twice. Phew”, he exhales deeply, “that was hot.”

You snicker, feeling your heart race. Jungkook snickers as well, pulling you closer. Your arms know exactly where to lie so you and he can be as close as possible. You can fuck as hard and long as you want to and it will be okay in the end, because you know exactly how to cuddle to recover in the most comforting of ways.

“Did you actually mean it when you said you’ll fuck my ass tomorrow?” you ask him.

“Okay, first of all in my defense I was really horny and my whore side most definitely came out there”, he says, making you laugh. He speaks his next word with laughter on his lips, “but if you’re actually down, then I wouldn’t say no.”

“Mhm, I’d be down too”, you say, snuggling into him with a kiss to his sweaty chest, “you’re cute, you know? You always say the dirtiest things when we fuck and then you’re acting all cute about them afterwards.”

“Says the person who called me Daddy outta nowhere”, he defends himself, ripping yet another round of laughter out of you.

Jungkook laughs with you, holding you oh so close.

And so you and he find yourselves recovering from the intense sex with laughter and cuddles. You and he will continue talking about every single detail of this evening and you will do so with giggles and fluttering hearts. Later, you will both go to the toilet and then take a shower together to wash off the mess you made. Needless to say the night will end with cuddles and giggles in bed, with good conversation and too many inside jokes cracking the both of you up over and over again until you fall asleep with smiles on your lips.

Yeah, date night is definitely amazing.

856 notes · View notes

reiding-writing · 2 months

Note

i LOVE your angsts

you can write something about the reader and spencer being apart after a conflict, being childish and sarcastic towards each other afterwards, and then, one of the cases ends in an explosion and, or, fire in which one of the two is trapped and alone, and the other takes risks to save him

who knows, maybe one of the two in the hospital is still delirious and asking to marry the other? anyway, you choose

basically two idiots in love and proud who can't bear the thought of losing each other

thanks 🥺🫶🏻

commitment [ s.r ]

You love Spencer Reid more than anything in the world, but committing to someone for life was not something to be considered lightly. A life or death situation might speed up the decision process a little.

spencer reid x gn!reader || angst || 4.0k ll masterlist!!

WARNINGS: commitment issues, fire, major character injury, miscommunication, happy ending

a/n: happy 29th of february? is that something to be celebrated? anyway, kinda took this one on a rollercoaster ride, enjoy :)

Spencer Reid wanted a family.

He wanted to get married, have 2.5 kids and live in a house with two cars and a white picket fence.

But he didn’t just want that with anybody, he wanted that with you.

You weren’t sure.

You loved Spencer with your whole heart, you really did, but after your parents’ failed marriage and your negative experiences with romantic relationships in the past, the fact that you’d even been in a committed relationship with Spencer for the last four years was an achievement in itself.

You’d talked about it a few times, but you’d always come to opposite decisions. Spencer wanted to settle down with you, and you were afraid to do so.

Your most recent conversation on the subject ended less as a conversation and more as an argument.

“So you don’t really love me then?” You could see the betrayal in his eyes at you again shutting down the idea, his tone carrying more upsetness than accusation.

“No Spencer of course I love you what are you talking about?” You can feel yourself nearing tears at his question. He was quite literally the person you loved most in the world, and to have him shut down your feelings because you didn’t see eye to eye with him broke your heart.

You spent the next few days staying with Garcia.

You tried to not let your disagreement with Spencer influence your work, but the fact that you wouldn’t so much as spare a glance at each other during office hours tipped off the rest of the team about your situation immediately.

“So,” Morgan leaned his hip against the counter of the kitchenette as you fixed yourself a cup of coffee, neglecting Spencer’s mug on the shelf instead of making both cups at once like you’d usually do.

“So?” You raise an eyebrow at his incomplete sentence.

“What’s going on between you and pretty boy?”

You sigh before he even finishes the question. “It’s nothing for you to worry about,”

“Your lover’s quarrel is ruining the vibes, it is most definitely something for me to worry about,” You roll your eyes at his response. Trust Morgan to find the most unserious way to express his concern for the two of you.

Logically you knew it was because he wanted to tread lightly, but that didn’t make it any less eye-roll inducing.

“So,” He leans forwards a little. “What’s going on? Did you disagree on whether Star Trek or Star Wars was better or something?”

You give him a deadpan stare and he immediately surrenders, raising up his hands as he concedes.

“What else do you have to argue about? You guys are like the most boring couple I know,” Morgan shrugs nonchalantly, and you halt the stirring of your teaspoon in your drink.

Boring? You weren’t boring. Were you? Did Spencer think you were boring? Did he think your relationship was boring? Maybe he only wanted to tie the knot in the hope that it would ‘reignite the spark’ or whatever people said.

“Hey.” Morgan snapped his fingers in front of your face, effectively pulling you out of your internal spiral.

“Hm?”

“I asked if it was serious, Garcia told me you’ve been staying with her the last few days,”

Curse Garcia and Morgan’s no filter relationship.

“Everything’s fine, we both just need time to cool off,”

“You’re sure?”

You have to consciously suppress a sigh at his continued questioning. Morgan was great, but god did he push.

“Yes Morgan, everything’s fine,” You spoke with enough conviction that you managed to convince him of your truth, although whether you believed it yourself was another question.

“Good, because if you two ever broke up I’m pretty sure the whole team would fall apart,” His tone tells you his joking, as does his expression as he leaves you to your coffee, but your brain isn’t as kind as to just let the comment fly over your head, and you’re sent into another spiral as you make your way back over to your desk.

Do the whole team really think of your relationship with Spencer as a vital part of its inner workings? What if it really didn’t work out? What would happen then?

Would the whole team fall into chaos?

You didn’t want to break off your relationship with Spencer. But what if it did happen?

Your thoughts leak into your body language, your shoulders tense as you sit down and your eyes not quite focused on the papers on your desk.

It didn’t help that Spencer sat directly opposite you either. It was like the world was trying to rub your conflict in your face every time you saw his hair in your peripheral vision.

You could feel his eyes boring into the top of your head, but you knew he wouldn’t say anything. It was one of the faults in his character, and yours you suppose, because even if he did ask you what was wrong you’d probably blow him off anyway.

The tension between the two of you was enough for Emily and Morgan to share a glance across the bullpen to each other, although they didn’t have enough time to corner you into asking what was actually going on as Hotch called the team into the conference room.

The silent feud between the two of you continued into the meeting, sitting on opposite ends of the table like you were two negative magnets being forced away from each other by an insurmountable pressure.

It was a little silly you think, to be so removed from each other after a single argument, but when Spencer put his foot down about something, he held his ground under any circumstance.

And so the two of you were destined to lie in a stalemate, sat seething in silent frustration with each other until one of you eventually caved under the pressure.

It wasn’t going to happen.

It was another fault of the two of you. You were both too damn stubborn for your own good, and it was beginning to affect your ability to work together.

You were supposed to be two sides of the same coin. Two gears intertwined and seamlessly rolling off of each other in perfect unison. Instead, you couldn’t even decide on the importance of a half-burned diary found at the scene of the last scene you’d arrived at, the fourth building set ablaze in Fallon in the last five days.

“This guy is clearly dealing with marital struggles, that could be our trigger,”

Of course he had marital struggles, because you couldn’t escape your own issues even when you were two-thousand miles across the country.

“We don’t even know if that diary belongs to our unsub,” You sigh exasperatedly as you slump back in your chair.

“It was a grocery store. Who brings a diary to a grocery store unless it’s something extremely important to them? It has to belong to our unsub.”

“Spencer-”

“You know that I’m more likely to be right about this,”

You can’t help but scoff at his statement, discarding your coffee mug on the round table and causing small brown droplets to coat the surface of the wood from the force. “You’re really pulling the intelligence card? Seriously?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Spencer shrugs his shoulders with a furrowed expression. “My intelligence is what got me here and it’s telling me that this diary belongs to our unsub,”

“And my experience is telling me that you’re fixating on this goddamn diary instead of looking for things that could be actually useful to finding this guy because you want to feel sorry for yourself by living through his struggles.” You gesture exasperatedly to the book in his hands, becoming increasingly frustrated with Spencer’s attitude towards you.

He might be smart, but you had almost half a decade on him in terms of experience. He had zero right to speak to you like that mid-feud or not.

“You’re angry at me, I get it. Don’t let it cloud your judgement.” You push yourself up from the table with a scowl, leaving your chair pushed out as you exit the station with the door slamming shut behind you.

“You’re sure this is the right place?” Morgan furrows his eyebrows as you approach the house, clearly run-down and looking as though no-one had lived in it in several years.

“I’m sure,” Spencer gave a determined nod as he un-holstered his gun, following the team into the house to sweep it for the suspect.

Despite your argument about the importance of the diary, Spencer had continues to fixate on it completely, leading to a partial name that Garcia had managed to identify and ultimately the house you were now running into.

You feel under-appreciated sometimes. Hotch always ended up going with Spencer’s choices, experience didn’t matter. It was like he had a tattoo across his forehead that read ‘I’m always right’ and everyone else took it as law.

But you’re not going to disobey direct orders, even if you did want to throw all of Spencer’s favourite books into a filled bathtub and watch him mourn over the ruined pages.

“Clear!”

You sweep the house room by room, you, Hotch, and Emily in charge of the ground floor whilst Morgan and Spencer went upstairs.

It was a complete ghost house. There was no electricity, no running water, smashed windows and moulded wallpaper, the furniture looked decades old and above all it just smelled horrific, a mix of leaking waste pipes and faulty gas lines. Were you seriously supposed to believe someone was living here?

“All clear up here,” Morgan emerged at the top of the stairwell with a shrug. “We got nothing,”

“Of course we don’t,” You mutter the words to yourself with a roll of your eyes, silently confirming your own victory at the obvious lack of human presence in the house Spencer was so sure belonged to the unsub.

“Alright, regroup outside,” Hotch called up to the two, gaining a nod from Morgan as he went to retrieve Spencer and bring him down as you exited the building.

“Nothing?” JJ tilted her head slightly as the three of you emerged, met with Emily shaking her head with a slightly awkward expression as she met your gaze.

“Nope, gross, but nothing,”

“Gross is right, it smelled like shit in there-” You clear your throat into your elbow like you’d managed to infest your lungs from the smell.

“Where’s Spence and Morgan?” You shrug your shoulders at JJ’s question heading back to the SUV to grab a bottle of water.

“Knowing Reid he’ll be over-analysing something,” Emily chuckles slightly, patting JJ on the shoulder as she follows you past her. “Morgan’ll get bored soon enough,”

“Are we going or what?” You call out from where you’re leaning against the car, water bottle being waved around in your hand as you gesture your impatience.

“Morgan and Reid are-” Emily stops as she spots Morgan walking out of the front door. “—Reid is still inside,”

“Of course he is,” You grumble to yourself with a roll of your eyes.

“He’s refusing to leave until he’s found something,” Morgan shrugs as he reaches Hotch’s side. “He’s adamant that there’s something to be found in there,”

“God seriously?” You groan out your words as you rejoin the group. “It’s an abandoned shit hole, there’s nothing to be found—”

A loud crash from the house interrupts your complaint.

Loud crashes are never good.

Neither is the bright orange flicker of light you can see through the front door. Definitely not when you’re working an arson case and Spencer Reid is still inside the house.

It’s like all the hours of you pondering how best to make Spencer suffer for his actions completely disappear as soon as the flames are in sight.

You couldn’t be angry at Spencer if he was dead.

The way the wooden beams of the door frame collapsed under the heat really cemented that thought in your mind.

“Spencer—”

Your attempt at running inside is promptly stopped by an outstretched arm that collides against your waist, winding you slightly and causing your expression to turn from fear to anger at the person who’d interrupted your attempt to vacate Spencer from the building.

“What are you doing?!” You push Morgan’s arm away from you harshly as you attempt to bypass him, but you don’t even get two steps forward before his arm is again blocking you from running into the burning building. “Get off me!”

“You can’t just run into a fire-” You continue to struggle against Morgan’s grip as he pleads his case to you, causing his voice to strain from the exertion of trying to keep you in one place.

“Morgan if you don’t let me go right now I swear to god-” Morgan withstands your threats with his strength, and you’re becoming increasingly resentful at just how much effort he’d gone through to stay physically fit.

“The fire department are on their way-” JJ’s voice is soaked in concern as she speaks, both hands clenched tightly around her phone as she stares into the open door of the house and the yellow-orange light that is quickly enveloping anything visible inside it. “They’re four minutes out,”

“Four minutes isn’t fast enough-”

“Hey-” Morgan continues to struggle against your writhing, planting both of his hands firmly against your shoulders and shaking them slightly in attempt to get your attention. “He’s going to be fine.” The uncertainty in his gaze tells you the opposite.

By the time you hear the sirens of fire engines rounding the street-corner, you don’t have the mental energy to feel relieved. All you can do is stare into the raging inferno that encapsulates the entire ground floor of the house and pray desperately that it didn’t manage to climb up the stairs. You know you’re being too optimistic.

You barely compute the obvious when a stretcher is prepared in front of the entrance, only coming to when you hear a worried gasp emanate from Emily at your side as Spencer is laid down on it after being recovered from the house’s master bedroom, very clearly unconscious and less clearly still breathing.

“Breathing is shallow, pulse is weak, we need to get him on oxygen,” The EMTs converse between themselves as they rush the stretcher into the fire ambulance, leaving you and your team to stand idly on the sidelines as both the fire and Spencer are taken care of by the firefighters on the scene.

You pace the waiting room on your heels, the sharp contact of your feet on the marbled floor leaving small shock waves to shoot up your legs as you walk. You couldn’t just sit down, you weren’t going to relax in a chair whilst the love of your life was possibly dying of asphyxiation. You were worried, terrified, and you had to release that nervous energy somehow.

If Spencer was here right now you’re sure he’d reprimand you for your nervous habit, rattling on about how heel-striking is dangerous for the health of your legs as it compresses your entire weight into a single point that can have bad impacts on your bones. Thinking about it just makes you feel worse, making you pace more and ultimately creating a self-fulfilling cycle where the more you thought about what he’d say the worse your actions would get.

At least you were actually in the hospital waiting and not back in the station waiting for a call. God knows you’d be more of a burden to the rest of the team than a help right now.

“Visitors for… Spencer Reid?” The nurse checks the clipboard in her hands as she speaks, and the second you hear the first syllable of his name you’re diverting your pacing to walk straight up to the nurse’s side.

“He’s awake but dreary, and he’s refusing any medication to help with the pain in his esophagus,” The nurse explains his conditions to you as she leads you down the hallway, shrugging her shoulders slightly at the mention of his refusal of pain medication.

“He can’t take narcotics, do you have any substitutes? NSAIDs?”

The nurse nods slightly at your explanation, checking her clipboard once more as she stops you at a wooden door. “I’ll have a look and see what I can find,”

“Thank you,” You give her a small nod and a smile as she leaves you at the door, suddenly even more nervous than you were in the waiting room. Not only was Spencer now in recovery for smoke inhalation and minor burns, the last ‘conversation’ the two of you had was an argument. A stupid, petty argument because you were both stubborn assholes who couldn’t agree to disagree on anything.

What if he didn’t want to see you? You were probably the last person he wanted at his bedside right now after everything that’d happened. Maybe you shouldn’t go in and see him.

Your hand is already opening the door. Okay, well, too late to second guess things now.

“Hey Spencer…” Your voice is barely a whisper as you enter the room, door shutting seamlessly behind you as you walk towards his hospital bed, fingers ringing together as a work around to release all of the nervous tension in your body without bursting into tears. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I ate a campfire-”

His words are enough to break the small tension between you, and you laugh softly in a mix of relief and worry. At least he was alright enough to be able to speak properly. The burn on his arm looked pretty bad though.

“You look like you ate a campfire,” You approach his hospital bed slowly, taking a seat on the plastic chair at his side and gazing over him with an entirely pitiful look in your eyes.

“I’m okay…” It was like he could read your mind, then again your sure that most people would be able to see how distraught you were right now, but Spencer was always the first to notice, and he languishly reached his hand out to rest against your knee.

You started crying the minute his fingers made contact with your slacks.

“I’m so sorry-” It felt a little silly to be crying in front of someone who’d just been trapped in a burning building and was probably experiencing an insane amount of pain from the lack of medication, but emotions don’t always follow logical boundaries. “I’ve been so- horrible to you and you didn’t deserve it at all-”

You’re sure you look like an absolute mess by now, tears staining your cheeks from your crying, a blotchy complexion from your stress, wrinkled clothes and ruined hair from constantly messing with them to try and find a release for all of your anxiety, but the way Spencer looks at you would have you assuming you’d stepped right off a runway.

“You don’t have anything to apologise for,”

“But-”

“Nothing.” Spencer shakes his head to the best of his ability as he shuts down your rebuttal, and he shifts his hand upwards to lie over your two hands clasped in your lap. “I shouldn’t have tried to pressure you into something that you’re not ready for, that was my fault, and for that I’m the one who needs to be saying sorry,”

“No I get it-”

“I made you uncomfortable and upset and that was never my intention,” Spencer continues to cut off your attempts to speak, something he’d usually rather die than do to you - or anyone for that matter - but deemed a necessity to stop you from lumping all of the blame on yourself when you had done nothing more than establish a boundary. A boundary that Spencer didn’t respect.

“I love you, and I want to spend every waking hour I have in your presence, I want to sleep with you in my arms and wake with you by my side. I want to experience every up and down with you and keep you safe and loved at every instance,” Spencer gives your hand a small squeeze as he looks at you, your reflection in his eyes one of pure beauty and perfection. “I didn’t do that for you in our last disagreement, and I can only hope that you’ll forgive me and allow me to make up for that moving forward,”

Spencer’s fingers ghost over the back of your hand, pressing small circles into the dips between your fingers and gently massaging your skin. “I want to do nothing more than love you, and a piece of paper and a pair of rings won’t change that either way.”

You swear that you melt with every word that leaves the boy’s mouth, and if he wasn’t currently hospital bound you’d smother his face in kisses until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

In respect for his condition you turn you affections to his hand instead, holding it up to your face and pressing deft kisses against the curve of each of his knuckles, silent tears still sliding down your cheeks. Tears of a different trajectory this time, filled no longer with guilt and frustration and instead replaced with the realisation of just how much you mean to Spencer Reid.

“I love you so much,” Your lips brush the back of his hand as you speak, his fingers dampening with the lingering moisture of your tears as you hold his hand like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the earth. “So much.”

The smile that breaks out on Spencer’s face could cure any ailment in your mind within seconds. “I love you too,”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #mgg #asks 🫶

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bippot · 3 months

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Summary: After being independent all his life, Spencer needs someone to lean on. He finds out how to when a pipe in his apartment burst and he needs to move in within his old pal. She's been waiting for the chance to pamper and treat him the way he deserves.

Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Caretaking, Idiots in Love, Baking, Domestic Fluff, Smut, Hand Jobs, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Eventual Romance, Facial Shaving, Drunkenness, Drunken Confessions, Love Confessions, Headaches & Migraines

Criminal Minds, Dr Spencer Reid Masterlist - here

For two or so weeks, the team was sure something was going on with Spencer. He went through a period of being so frantic and tense then, all of sudden, that behaviour stopped. They had literally no idea what it could be. It seemed as if he had a million things to do and nowhere to go. And every time they asked if he needed help or anything, Spencer would shrug them off.

Things had been a little weird for him ever since he got out of prison and nobody expected him to revert back to normal once he got out. He seemed to acclimatise after a few weeks but maybe that was just for show and he was better at pretending that he still wasn't in prison mode.

If it had been something to do with Diana, he would've been more sad than anything. They'd seen that situation before and this definitely wasn't that.

Maxine left him a while ago after she couldn't really let go of the whole Cat thing. She acted way too chill about it on the day because of the adrenaline and then realised a week or so later that it was too big of a deal for her to wrap her head around. There would have been a sense of grief around Reid if that had been the case.

The catalyst of this change was that a pipe burst in his apartment and, thanks to that pipe, Spencer needed to find a new place to stay for a couple of weeks while it was fixed. Reid knew his coworkers would help but they had other things going on in their lives that he didn't want to intrude upon.

Morgan would be busy with his family, Simmons with his, and JJ with hers. And it would be weird constantly being around JJ and Will after she confessed - seriously, why did she do that? - so it would cause him a lot less emotional stress if he just skipped out on that.

Garcia was going through a period of serial dating and he didn't want to be there to witness that because she was like a sister to him and he'd definitely weird out her dates.

Whatever Rossi was going through with ex-wife number whatever, he didn't want to get in between. It hadn't been long since they got married, but with David's track record, everyone wasn't entirely under the belief that the newlywed bliss would last long.

Alvez and Prentiss were still getting to grips with their new relationships and, as well as he got along with them, Spencer knew he would never be comfortable encroaching on their couple's private space. He didn't want to walk in on something he definitely wouldn't want to see.

This left Y/N. She was an old neighbour that he kept in touch with even though she'd moved into a new apartment a few streets over. She was always friendly, always happy to see him, and had forced him to stay in her spare room all those years ago when he broke his knee so she could take care of him. He didn't speak to her as much as he used to but Spencer was sure that if there was a chance to help, she would.

Yeah, it was an adjustment. Reid had been independent for just about all of his life, but this was something he really wanted to adjust to. The comfort she provided was intoxicating - day by day, his walls were coming down - and he soon found out that coming home to find someone else there was really nice. He hadn't really had that (other than with his mother) since Maeve died, and Cat managed to scare Maxine away before he ever got to that stage with either of them. It was a no-brainer who he wanted to stay with from the get-go, if he was honest.

Y/N owned a bakery and that meant that he got fresh baked goodies whenever she came home from work, or if he made the journey downstairs to her shop and snatched a croissant from the display whenever she wasn't looking. Spencer Reid stealing croissants from his friend? Prison had changed him. She'd also told him he could, but he didn't like constantly asking for them, so he used his sneakery to get around that.

He hadn't told anyone about this new arrangement yet. He knew that if any of his coworkers heard he'd gained a roommate, and an attractive female roommate at that, they'd have a reason to ask him intrusive questions that he didn't want to answer. He didn't want to jinx anything. If he was being really truthful, he probably wouldn't be able to keep the coy smile off his face whenever Y/N was mentioned. He always thought she was pretty and, back in the day, he was far too nervous to ever act on it so they stayed as friends from that point on.

After a particularly long and depressing case - child murder is never a fun time - Spencer was drained and grumpy when he got home. All he wanted was to slump headfirst into the couch and not get up until the next morning. That's how it would go down when he lived alone. Yet, he couldn't do that because Y/N was lying on the living room couch. She was dressed in a sweater - one that was designed to be oversized and she'd also bought two or three sizes up for maximum comfort - her cheek squished on a cushion as she watched some cheesy reality show.

"Hey," she greeted, her voice so sleepy that it came out barely as a whisper. He grunted his greeting.

Could he spread out on the sofa like he wanted to while she was still there? It had been a while since he'd been embraced by anyone. And he knew Y/N would indulge him. Why not? Two birds, one stone. He was a lot more confident these days so, yeah, why fucking not?

To test the waters, he lifted her feet and sat in their place, letting her rest the bottom half of her person against his thighs. He let his palms gently slide up and down her shins as he looked at the TV - he wasn't watching it, his eyes were just in that general direction - and he came to the conclusion that this touching another person thing was nice when the person was Y/N.

"You're back late. How was the flight? I can see you didn't get any sleep," she asked, rubbing at her eye with the back of her hand.

The bags under his eyes were getting heavier. He hadn't slept well for a while now. Prision does that to you, she'd heard. And his job took so much out of him. She had no idea how he did it, how he was still functioning. But he was. He was managing.

"I had so many cups of coffee just to get through it."

As he said that, he let all of his weight fall to the side, and he flopped his head onto her chest. Y/N was shocked into momentary quiet, her mouth opening in surprise, but once she got a hold of herself, she softly asked, "Hey, you okay? Was the case... bad? I mean, more bad than usual?"

"...A kid."

It was only two words, but they told her everything she needed to know. "Oh" was all she could possibly think of saying. It encapsulated everything she could about the subject. It was a surprise. It was sad. And she was sure there wasn't anything she could say to make it better.

He snaked his arm around her stomach in an effort to bring her closer to him, to bring him even more of the comfort he desperately needed right now. Her hands hovered an inch away from his shoulders for just a moment, taking a second to consider whether touching him any further would cause him discomfort, before she made her mind up and began stroking his back with long soothing circular strokes.

Pastry. Jam. Honey. And a hint of mint from her toothpaste that she'd accidentally dropped onto her jumper. She smelt so delicious that he wondered if she would actually taste as good as she smelled. His stomach growled as that thought popped into his head.

"You hungry? I've got some leftover pasta if you want me to warm it up for you."

"Just wanna stay here. You're warm."

If it was warmth he wanted, it was warmth he was going to get. Y/N shimmied the edge of her jumper from beneath Spencer and lifted it over him, entrapping them both in the comfort of her sweatshirt. He shifted upwards to poke his head out of the neck opening and rested his cheek on top of her collarbone.

"This kinda feels like I'm a kangaroo with my little baby joey in my pouch," she teased, drawing squiggles between his shoulder blades.

"Did you know that 95% of kangaroos are left-handed?"

"I didn't know that."

"If a kangaroo gets pregnant again while nursing their previous joey, a phenomenon called embryonic diapause occurs, which is when an embryo stops growing to keep itself in a sort of stasis. It has to wait 235 days before it can be born," Spencer rambled, letting himself sink further into Y/N.

Being bombarded with facts about just about everything was one of Y/N's favourite new past times. She always let out a hum of acknowledgement, even though she sometimes didn't understand half of the stuff he was talking about. She was just happy that he was talking to her at all.

"I like you like this, Spence," Y/N cooed, brushing a curl away before it fell in front of his eyes with a tentative fingertip. "All wrapped up and cute like a little joey. You're like my little baby - a tall baby - but still my little big baby."

A snort came out of his nose and he pressed his lips into a thin line. "I'm not a baby, Y/N."

"I know that, dumbass," she laughed, squeezing him a little tighter. "I'm just saying that I like babying you, I guess."

"I'm a grown man. I don't need to be babied."

Her fingers found the crown of his hair as she scratched his scalp. He let out a weak hum, almost like a quiet purr, as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the sensation.

"I know," she smiled, "But just because you don't need to be taken care of doesn't mean you shouldn't be."

Lifting himself onto his forearms, Spencer peered down at Y/N, and even though he didn't realise it, his big brown eyes were brimming with tears. Y/N was quick to thumb away the wetness that was about to fall down his cheek. She didn't know why she felt the need to confess her thoughts. Maybe it was to make Spencer feel better. Maybe she was just tired of seeing him lose himself to the void.

"I want to look after you," Y/N stated, tilting his chin up with her forefinger so their eyes met, "If you'll let me."

There was a wealth of emotion behind his eyes. Even Y/N, who knew him better than most, didn't feel like she understood all of them. Was it fear? Was it sadness? Was it some kind of guilt? Motormouth and serial rambler Spencer Reid had no idea how to internalise that and what to say to that. He was speechless. He was silent for so long, Y/N thought he might've gone into shock. She expected him to bolt from her like a wild horse freed from a rider's grip. But he didn't.

"Let you?" he eventually choked out. "Yeah, I'll let you. I'll admit there are certain things that I have to do in a very specific way or I won't be able to function properly but - overall - that sounds really nice, Y/N. Thank you."

Y/N felt her lips twitch into a smile. "We can talk about it more tomorrow, yeah?" He nodded so she went back to scratching his head until he settled down into the crook of her neck and let himself get closer and closer to the edge of sleep. He was cocooned in a bubble of physical and emotional warmth that enveloped him with ease.

Spencer really could get used to this.

Tomorrow came and the pair had a very open conversation where Spencer admitted that he would like to be, for lack of a better word, pampered. It was a relatively new concept to him, and the brief insight he got of it was really relaxing. But, he didn't want to feel incompetent. Tasks that take a certain amount of concentration and brain power were fine for Y/N to do for him, yet he didn't want to take her kindness for granted and turn her into his maid. That was a step too far.

He also confessed, with a few word stumbles along the way, that he had felt the need for this to be reciprocal in some way. Yes, Y/N had been the one to bring up the subject and had expressed the desire to take care of him, but that created an imbalance between the two of them - Spencer getting whatever he wanted done for him, and Y/N getting jack shit (and presumably tired from doing everything) - and their friendship wouldn't last like that.

To pay her back, he'd help out in her bakery. He could help out on the financial side of things since was so much faster than her at the admin and accounting work - maths to Spencer Reid is like breathing - and (he's never really told anyone before) he would really like to know how to make doughnuts and croissants and all the sweet treats that he craves so much. Awesome FBI profiler by day. Mediocre maker of jam tarts by night. That was the dream.

Ever since he was a kid, he always felt a little weird whenever he was in someone else's personal space. For some people, it was their home. Or their office. Or the bathroom that they have breakdowns in. Personally, Spencer's was the poetry section at the library he frequented. Y/N's was her patisserie kitchen. And, bizarrely, Spencer didn't mind hanging out in Y/N's patisserie kitchen. Maybe it was because it was filled with sweet treats. Or maybe it was because of what always happened if Spencer managed to get home before Y/N had decided that her work day was over.

As quiet as a mouse, he'd creep down the stairs from their apartment - he means her, her apartment - to the kitchen of her bakery, and he'd stand in the doorway watching. Just watching. Watching as she hummed to herself while she worked. Watching as she moved about with confidence and ease. Watching as she reached for the measuring cups and jugs of ingredients. Watching as she stirred, whisked, mixed, and kneaded whatever needed to be prepared for tomorrow.

If one of her employees was still hanging around, they'd look at him knowingly so he always hoped she was alone to save himself the embarrassment.

Spencer's eyes would drink in every single part of her - the way she moved and the way she held herself, the way her white apron hung loosely around her, the way her messy hair looked tied back with a yellow ribbon - and at first, he wouldn't want to disturb her. But, over time, he'd realise that he was being a bit of a creep.

And then he'd get up the courage to walk right in, do his best to pretend that he hadn't been ogling her from afar for who knows how long, and give her a big grin as he entered her space. She'd jump out of her skin every time his presence became suddenly known - every single one - and lightly hit him on the shoulder.

Tonight was no different. It happened step by step as it always did until she asked, "Do you want me to show you how to make Chelsea buns?"

"Yeah, I would like that."

"Put an apron on then," she urged, pointing to the set of hooks with her employees' aprons on, and he did exactly as she said straight away. "Let's make our dough first."

She walked him through the process, told him about all the ingredient amounts, mixed it for him, and didn't stop talking for the entire time. It was cute. It always is whenever you get someone talking about something they're passionate about, and Y/N seemed to know exactly how to reel him in.

Despite the fact that her instructions were very clear and he was a smart guy, he couldn't seem to get a grasp on how to knead the dough. Y/N had shown him what to do, let him fumble for a few minutes, then said, "Can I move your hand for you until you get the hang of it?"

"Be my guest."

So, she did. Y/N placed her palm on the back of his hand and guided him how to properly knead the dough, and he did it, and he did it properly. Yet, when she went to let him do it by himself, he pulled her hand back on his, mumbling an unconvincing, "I don't think I'm quite there yet."

Y/N didn't quite believe him. She still indulged him, though. They essentially recreated that scene from Ghost but with baking instead of pottery. She didn't laugh or push him away. She just smiled.

"I think that's enough. Now we should wait at least 2 hours so the yeast rises and it doubles in size."

"What? I can't wait that long."

"Well, it's a good thing I made some earlier then."

Pulling the same move that TV cooks use, Y/N retrieved her previously made risen dough so he could flatten it out, sprinkle on the cinnamon and spice and everything nice, and roll it up into a cute - albeit a bit wonky - swirl of tastiness.

The buns cooked for 25 minutes, and during that time, Spencer asked all about Y/N's day and if she had any customers from hell recently. Y/N urged him to tell her about his day at work - but only the parts he felt comfortable about saying, like usual - and he was lucky that he'd mostly been doing paperwork. It was boring to talk about and even more boring to fill out, but it wasn't traumatic, so that was good.

By the time they had to come out of the oven, the pair were so deep in a conversation that they forgot they were baking and were rudely interrupted by the timer Y/N had set. She was quick to hand Spencer a set of oven gloves so he could behold his masterpieces.

"These smell so good," he hummed as he took a deep whiff of the warm buns, the scent filling him with a sense of accomplishment. Just after he placed the hot tray on the side, Spencer attempted to pick up a bun to eat. "HOT! HOT! VERY HOT!"

"You literally just got it out of the oven!"

Through her chuckle, Y/N caught his wrist and lifted to see if accidentally touched the scorching hot baking tray and burnt the tips of his finger. He hadn't, luckily, but she still rubbed the pain away with her thumb.

"That was a silly thing to do. I thought you were supposed to be a genius," she reprimanded playfully

"I am a genius."

"Are you though? Are you really?"

"Yes. I am."

"Hmmm...I don't believe it."

He frowned, then he realised she was just messing with him and reached to give her hips a quick squidge, which was an affectionate gesture that should've felt foreign, but it didn't. Y/N giggled and let herself fall back against his chest, his arms wrapping around her like second nature.

If there was one thing Y/N had learned these past few weeks, it was that Spencer Walter Reid was one touchy guy. And she was probably the only person other than his mother that knew that. He'd been touch starved for all of his life, so it wasn't much of a surprise that he was a bit greedy when it came to physical contact, but it was adorable regardless.

"You still have to glaze the buns. Or do you want me to do it instead."

"Can you do it please?" He mumbled, pushing his face into the fabric of her shoulder.

"It won't take long."

As she moved to quickly make some sugar water and brush it onto the buns, she had a cling on. Wherever Y/N moved, Spencer was attached to her back like a sloth on a branch with his lazy, heavy limbs. It was cute but a little awkward when she needed to lean or walk. He was really putting the cling in clingy.

"I'm almost done, lovely. What do you want for dinner?"

"We're going to order."

"We are, are we?"

"Uh-huh, you deserve a break from kitchens so you're going to let me buy us a bunch of Chinese food that will keep us fed for the next two to three days," he informed her, his voice making it very clear that this was non negotiable.

To appease her even more, he rubbed his cheek against the side of her jaw, nuzzling against her face like a cat. His stubble was rough and scratchy, so she gently pushed his head away.

"You need a shave."

"I don't wanna," he whined. "Don't you think I look more manly like this?"

Y/N chuckled, "Oh yes, very manly." She finished what she was doing and turned in his arms, her fingers coming up to feel the coarseness of his 5 o'clock shadow. "I could shave your face for you if you'd like."

"You would?"

"Well, I mean I could try. If you'd like?"

"Please?"

His eagerness made her giggle, and she felt an overwhelming desire to please him, if only to get rid of his five o'clock shadow.

"Let's go upstairs then, Spence."

"Can you use that fancy moisturiser that you have on me?" He asked on the way up the stairs. "It smells nice and always makes your skin really soft."

Sharing skincare? Surely that was asking for an uncountable number of germs to be passing between them. For some reason, Spencer was completely fine with that.

Soon, Y/N was perched on the bathroom sink with Spencer standing between her legs as she covered his face with shaving cream. With one hand, she held his face ever so gently, and the other was focused on moving the razor so slowly to ensure that she didn't accidentally cut him. It was a very tender moment, one that she could've spent hours doing.

"What are you going to order?"

"Hmm..." He hummed. "Maybe a Chicken Biryani."

"I thought you wanted Chinese tonight."

"I changed my mind. I want Indian food now."

"So indecisive." She turned his chin to the side. "Why don't we order before you change your mind again?"

"Okay, okay."

She finished up the shave as he used her phone to order through an app - his phone didn't have the option for downloading apps. He may be a Luddite but any way around calling the restaurant and placing the order that way, he'd do.

"There we go! You've got the bareface of a prepubescent kid," she teased as she finished up.

"Moisturise me!"

With such a light touch, she did whatever skincare treatments he wanted her to do. His skin had a healthy glow to it that it hadn't had before and there was no stubble, just smooth, sexy, soft skin. The final touch was to slide her chapstick against his lips, his chin resting between her thumb and forefinger.

"So pretty," she whispered, running her hand along his jaw.

Something more could've happened if the doorbell hadn't gone off.

"Go sit down, I'll get our food," she urged, quickly pecking him on the cheek on the way out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Pink took over his whole face and it was impossible to hide his coy little smile.

From that day on, Spencer knew what had once been a crush turned into something deeper. It had a while ago, but this was his confirmation. It was as if there was a large neon sign right in front of her face saying 'Spencer, you're in love with me,' and he didn't need an eidetic memory to remember that forever.

That achy feeling in his heart got worse when Matt's kids accidentally gave Spencer lice. He'd gotten home from a get-together at the Simmons residence, and after entertaining all the young ones with a magic show, his head was surprisingly itchy.

"Do I have a cobweb or something in my hair?" He asked Y/N, scratching at his scalp.

Y/N couldn't keep her face neutral as she got to her knees on the couch and peered at the top of his head. She grimaced and visibly shuddered at the sight of the little bugs.

"You might want to tell your friend that his kids have lice."

"LICE!?"

Spencer freaked out, his eyes bugging out of his head and his body stiffening. "I'm going to shave my head!" He squealed, flinging his hands up in the air. "I'm going to! All my hair!"

"It's okay, lovely. I'll go down to the corner store, pick up some Nix, and be back in a little over 5 minutes," Y/N soothed, trying to get his mind off of his potential baldness.

"Please hurry!"

8 minutes later, Y/N returned from the store and Spencer stared at her expectantly.

"There's nothing to worry about. Come on, bathroom time."

Once Y/N had so lovingly shampooed his hair and followed the instructions step by step, she was brushing his hair and getting rid of any pesky nits that had stuck around. On the inside, his mind was circling - it would go from 'gross, lice' to 'Y/N's taking care of me' to 'Y/N's taking care of me because of gross lice' and would repeat over and over again - but on the outside, he was beaming up at her with puppy dog eyes and a little pout.

"What would I do without you?"

"Shave your head, apparently."

"I'm going to miss you, Y/N," he admitted. "When my apartment is fixed."

Luckily for him, Spencer's landlord had messed up. The burst pipe spewed water everywhere. That water splashed into a plug socket. So, that needed to be replaced and rewired, and Mr Landlord thought his buddy who'd offered to do it at a heavily discounted price had the skill set to do it correctly. They did not. A completely different electrician had to come in and redo everything.

"I'll just force you to stay here forever."

"You don't have to force that on me. I'll stay, willingly."

"Okay then, move in."

She said it so casually, like it was nothing and not the life changing decision that it was. It was an enticing offer. A life with her. Her support. In constant domesticity. And with a steady flow of baked goods. It was too good to refuse.

"You're serious?"

"Uh-huh." He could see it in her eyes that she was. Despite how she was still brushing through his hair, he knew her focus had shifted. "You've already got your room set up, why not?"

"Yeah, I'd like that. I'd like to move in."

All of his stuff was moved in within the week. His landlord had been told and if the guy made a fuss, Spencer had informed him that he was prepared to sue for damages - a hefty portion of his books had been drowned in the flood - and he did work for the FBI so he had a wealth of really good lawyers that he could talk to and hire. He was released from his tenancy agreement after that.

Every day was a sleepover. Well, every day when Spencer wasn't on a case where he'd have to be on the other side of the country for a week or so.

Life with Y/N was easy, blissfully so. They were happy and content, and he was so, so in love. And that was the only problem really: love. He didn't want to be too obvious about it because if she caught on and didn't feel the same, it would get really awkward, and he'd probably move out as soon as he could. Yet, he wanted to express it. He wanted to make her feel loved and special.

Because she was loved and special.

Spring came around and was weirdly warm - that's climate change for you - and Y/N had ditched the oversized hoodies and sweatpants for something less fabricy. T-shirts and shorts, tank tops and skirts, there was a lot more skin on show, and it was, in a word, distracting.

So, Spencer had also decided to start spending a portion of his downtime in his bedroom. Whenever he wanted to look at casefiles or plan his lectures, he needed to not have Y/N anywhere in his field of vision. If she was, he'd get absolutely nothing done.

A gentle knock on his bedroom door interrupted him mid thought, and he called out, "Come in."

Y/N poked just her head in and smiled "Would you like a coffee?"

"Yes, please."

"Good, cause I've already made you one."

Armed with his drink and a cookie on a plate, Y/N made her way into his room and set it down on his desk. He looked up at her in mild curiosity.

"Why is that cookie bright blue?"

"I intended to slightly turn it blue but I added too much food colouring."

Sipping coffee, he leaned back in his chair and began watching her with a slight frown on his face. The frown wasn't at her, specifically. He had a headache. The last case had been incredibly drawn out and took them far too long to solve. One of his best students had decided to drop out because they were busy looking after their sickly mother, and that was a loss of such potential. And he'd generally just gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

"A few customers have complained that they wrongly bought blueberries instead of chocolate muffins, cookies, whatever so, I thought, why don't I turn them blue to make it obvious," Y/N explained, her eyes scanning all over his room.

His room was a mess. Books everywhere. His duvet was crumpled in a heap on the floor right next to a splattering of clothes. There was yesterday's towel draped on the bed. The curtains were still closed. And there was a general stale-ness in the air.

No hesitation whatsoever, Y/N grabbed his laundry bag and began to tidy up.

"I'll do that later, Y/N."

"It's okay. You're busy, lemme do this for you."

"I'm not a child, Y/N! I can clean my own room!"

In all of their time as friends, he'd never raised his voice at her, and they were both shocked that he just did. Y/N froze as she was mid-push of putting the duvet back into place and looked at him in genuine confusion. He sighed and got up from his chair, moving over to wrap himself around her and slump them both down on his bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I had a shitty day and my shitty day is not your shitty day, I know that. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad, I promise, just a little surprised." Y/N laughed, "You've never yelled at me before. We can tick that experience off our friendship to-do list. If anything, it was a little weird that we've been friends for so long, and that hasn't happened before."

She rubbed the back of his head and gave him a small smile, joking, "I think it was about time you showed your 'grr, I'm an FBI agent. I carry a gun' side to me."

Rolling his eyes, he let out an amused groan. "I've never said 'grr' in my entire life."

"Well, you just did."

"Yeah, I did, but-"

He stopped before he'd start a meaningless argument over it and laughed instead. Spencer let himself squish Y/N into the mattress a little bit, smiling when all she did was pat his back in a soft consistent rhythm.

"I'm judging by the lack of light that you have a headache?"

"Don't profile me," he jeered lightheartedly.

"Too late."

Before he could decline, she was massaging his temples and trying to will away his headache. It was a losing battle, he knew it would be if he tried to pretend that he was okay, and just let her. Five minutes of her fingers moving on his forehead and the pressure was starting to subside.

"You're too good at this," he groaned.

"I don't know why, maybe I'm just naturally good at giving massages."

"You've got magic hands."

A huff came out of her nose. "Yeah, that's what my ex boyfriend said too," she muttered under her breath, talking more to herself than to him.

Jealousy spiked in him, just a little bit, but enough to make his stomach twist and his heart beat faster. He didn't want to care about that. But he did. The mere mention of an ex-boyfriend was enough to make his chest feel tight.

He cleared his throat and shifted under her hands. Her eyes flicked down to his, and he met them unflinchingly. They looked at each other for a few seconds, and a million thoughts ran through his head. A soft smile curved at the edges of his lips.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally said.

"Yeah, sure."

"It's kind of a random question."

"Go for it."

"Do you think... I mean, um, do you think we'd make a good couple?"

There was a long pause. The room was quiet, aside from the hum of the air conditioning and the muffled sound of traffic outside.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I think we would."

"Would you like to try to -"

"Are you asking me out?"

"I would've if you let me finish my sentence," he replied, his sass barely hiding how genuine he was. She laughed. It was a genuine, happy sound that made his chest feel lighter than air.

"I would like to try."

That was so much easier than he'd ever expected it to be. He let out a relieved sigh and very goofily did a little air punch that caused her to laugh some more.

"Follow up question."

"Hmm?"

Since he knew that she was willing to date him, based on that he assumed that she would have a positive reaction when he hinted, "Would there be kissing in this 'trying to be a good couple' situation?" and made it very clear where his eyeline was. His tongue came out to wet his bottom lip. "Would that be something you would be into?"

To answer, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. It was a chaste, almost awkward press of lips to lips. It wasn't long, but it left him yearning for more.

"You've got work to do, Doctor Reid."

Teasingly, Y/N got out from under him and gestured to the case file that he'd been reading when she arrived. Y/N crouched down to be eye level with him still on the bed and swiped some hair behind his ear as she added, "And I've got more bright blue blueberry cookies to make."

He made a face at her, but he knew she was right.

"Come find me when you're done," she told him, winking.

With that, she was gone. He heard her humming as she descended downstairs to her shop. He looked at the case file some more, his mind distracted for a completely different (but also kinda the same) reason now. Whatever bad mood he had been in was completely turned on its head.

He was still grinning the next morning when he went into work and told them all about the new insight he had on the case. Obviously, his coworkers were a little confused about why Spencer was in such a good mood but he was tight lipped. No matter how much he wanted to gush about Y/N and his new relationship, he kept his mouth shut.

The team would only know this new new development in the good doctor's life a few weeks down the line. They managed to convince him to actually attend an evening Rossi was hosting at his house. Spencer tended to only go to the cooking lessons and special occasions at Rossi's.

Once or twice a month, the members of the BAU would get absolutely pissed on expensive wine together. It was Emily's idea at first, but Rossi ran with it. And with the knowledge that he had someone at home willing to look after him if he got into a state, Spencer thought, why not? He deserved a night to let himself get all dizzy and stupid.

There were parts of his recent memory that he'd like to forget and drinking copious amounts of would remedy that for a while. There is not much chance that it would actually 'kill' those memory cells, but they would fade into the background for one night.

Was it any surprise that Y/N got a late night call to come and pick him up? No, she'd been expecting that. He had always been a lightweight primarily because he rarely ever touched alcohol in any way. Even if they were at a restaurant, he'd purposefully pick another dessert if he found out there was a smidgeon of booze in it. What Y/N wasn't expecting was a female voice to be on the other line when she picked up Spencer's call.

Penelope, who had a few too many as well, was giddy with delight when whoever this Y/N was that her buddy had been talking about all night answered the phone with "Hey baby, you okay?"

"I knew he had a girlfriend!" Penelope yelled to the team, her voice a squeal of excitement. "I knew it! Oh my god, hi! I'm Penelope. I work with your boyfriend."

"Hi, Penelope," Y/N said. "How's it going?"

"Reid is so drunk he can barely stand up," she informed Y/N. "Yoo hoo, Reid, drink that water Simmons gave you!"

That got a groan from him. He was slouched on Rossi's couch with his head in his hands.

"It's not my fault you tried to go drink for drink with Prentiss!"

Emily Prentiss has a glass of wine for breakfast. One at dinner. And one before bed. And that's only on her work days. She knows how to hold herself together while her blood has been replaced by red wine.

"If I text you the address, can you come and get him?"

"Of course I can."

"Good, I can't wait to meet you!" Before she pressed the button to hang up, Y/N heard Penelope playfully tease, "Spencer, your girlfriend that you've been hiding from us is coming to pick your drunk butt up."

With that, the call ended and Y/N was grabbing her car keys. The journey to Rossi's was fairly simple and quick, mostly because there were far fewer cars on the road at this time of night. She pulled up to the grand house - mansion, let's be fair - and the door was opened just as Y/N was about to knock.

"You're pretty!" Penelope greeted, her face pulled into a huge, stupid grin. One of the shoulders of Penelope's dress was hanging down her shoulder so Y/N slid it back into place for her. "Come on in, come in. Ha, look at me, acting as if I own the place!"

Thanks to the drunkenness of his coworkers, Rossi did what he always did at these types of gatherings and retreated to his backyard the moment JJ and Emily got all touchy feely with each other.

Currently, Spencer had moved from the couch and was now lying facedown on the living room floor with Luke and Matt throwing pens and pencils and anything lightweight enough to not hurt but be annoying at his head. It was a funny sight to see.

Y/N knelt on the rug beside her boyfriend and reached out to run her hands through his hair as she cooed, "Is the floor comfy enough for you, lovely?"

The sound of her voice immediately perked him up, and he was able to open his eyes and look at her, albeit with a confused look on his face, to ask, "Honey?"

"Hi, babe. Do you want to go? It's late."

"You came to get me."

"Of course I did, dumdum."

"187 means I-I'm not a dumdum dumdum," he mumbled and tried to sit up, but quickly gave up and rested his head in her lap. He huffed an annoyed, "I'm a drunk dumdum" and pouted. She stroked his hair and listened to the other two guys laughing at them.

Not attempting to hold it back, Y/N joined in on Matt and Luke's laughter. She didn't know these guys, but she assumed if Spencer was actually so drunk that it was a concern, they'd be taking this more seriously. He was fine. He was just a little more stupid and less conscious of where his limbs were than usual.

Eventually, she lifted his head up from her lap and held him upright with her palms on either of his cheeks. He looked at her with a dizzy, but happy, smile and her heart melted a little, but she tried to keep a serious expression on her face or they'd stay on his coworkers floor for the entire night.

"Are you ready to go home?"

"You s-so, so pretty," he slurred, leaning forward since he intended to press his lips to hers.

He missed. He actually managed to catch her jaw with nose and he was off balance enough that he fell forward and they ended up in a sloppy, drunken hug where Y/N was holding up all of Spencer's weight with her arms under his armpits and his face was buried in her hair.

"Wuv you," he whispered in her ear, his pronunciation a bit off, but she knew what he'd intended to say. It was obvious.

"I know," she whispered back. "I wuv you too."

A blush was very evident on Y/N's cheeks as she hauled Spencer into her car, and while his friends had no idea what he'd whispered, they knew it was something to gossip about. Her goodbyes were short and she'd given Penelope her number just in case this happened again and Spencer hadn't charged his phone, which happened so often despite the fact he had an eidetic memory and had to be contactable thanks to his job.

Spencer became more and more sober on the drive home. He'd been alternating between sipping from the water bottle Y/N had brought for him and babbling about a type of fox named Fennec foxes that there's been a rise of people keeping as pets, and while he was definitely a lot more coherent and more aware of his surroundings, he wasn't exactly acting like his normal self.

Then she realised he was avoiding any phrasing that could be misconstrued as romantic or sexual or the barest bit affectionate, even if it was the scientific terms for whatever processes he was explaining. He'd mumbled his way through the way people breed and raise the big eared pups before trailing off when he realised she knew exactly what he was doing.

"Lovely, it's okay. I can forget that you said - "

How could she phrase it? He hadn't exactly said those three words but it was close enough that his drunken slurring had the same implication. After consideration, Y/N came to the conclusion to keep it simple.

"I can try to forget that you said 'that' if you'd like me to."

"I don't want you to forget. I'm just trying to gather up the courage to say it coherently this time."

"Take as long as you need," she responded softly as she parked up.

It didn't take him long at all. He got himself out of the car with no trouble, no stumbling or swaying or dizziness. He had reverted back to a light buzz, a little happy tipsiness. They made it through her front door, and he decided that he didn't want to go to bed just yet, so he flopped on the couch and turned the TV instead.

"Let's watch something," he suggested, patting the space beside him on the couch.

The second Y/N was sitting down, Spencer was tugging her to lie down so he could use her boobs as pillows as he watched the random show he'd selected. Honestly, he'd just clicked on the first one that looked mildly interesting without even really thinking about it.

Halfway through a rather graphic sex scene began to play. During their relationship, they'd always been interrupted before things got spicy. A case. Spencer gets an update about his mum. Y/N's friend stops in to say hello. Lecture notes need to be written and papers graded. Employees phoned in sick. Or they were both just too tired and not in the mood.

There were no interruptions in sight tonight. And the show had made him imagine certain things. Spencer went from enjoying Y/N gentle caresses up and down his spine to feeling like they were going to make him catch a flame in seconds.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as he squirmed and flipped onto his back so she couldn't feel what was wrong pressing against her leg.

"I.." He couldn't even form a sentence. "...Nothing."

"Spencer?"

"Nothing wrong. I'm...I'm fine. No problems, honey."

"I can see the tent in your trousers."

It was obvious. Just in the way his breathing got shallower with every movement of the actors in the scene. The way he bit down on his lip as he watched. The way he tensed up and let out a staggered groan when a particularly explicit sex act was performed. And she was in the exact same position.

"Baby, you want a hand?" Y/N offered, fully intending the double entendre. She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and placed a kiss upon his cheekbone. "I've got magic hands, remember?"

"Oh," Spencer breathed. "Yes, yeah please."

"Get comfy then, handsome."

After some wiggling and shifting, he let his weight rest against his girlfriend and relax his temple against her jaw. When he was ready, he looked over his shoulder to give her a little nod.

Y/N took her time to get him worked up. She kissed her way down his neck as her hand drifted under his shirt. She explored his ribcage and his sides, his stomach and his thighs, before she finally settled on the bulge in his trousers.

She let her lips rest on his ear and whispered to him, "This feel good?"

"Uh huh," he rasped out.

"You want more?"

"Oh god, yeah."

"Do me a favour and unzip your pants for me, will you?"

Spencer was quick to comply, pulling down his zipper with a solid clunk and pulling his trousers down his thighs, exposing his underwear to her. She teased her fingers along the stitching on his underwear before letting them dip beneath the elastic band and caressing the broad length of his cock.

But before she took him into her palm, Y/N was sweetly ordering, "Spit into my hand please." He did as he was told, spitting into her cupped palm and watching her face intently did the same. She closed her fingers around his cock, coating him in the saliva and making him slick for her.

Slowly, she began to pump her fist up and down his shaft. The friction made his hips buck up into the air, but her other hand came to push them back down. "Let me do all the work, baby," she cooed in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. "You're going to be good for me, aren't you?"

"Gonna be so good," he promised, eyes wide, watching her stroking his cock with her slickened hand. She pumped her hand up and down his shaft a little faster, making him whimper and his body twitch.

Then he started to get restless. His legs kept sliding and jolting so Y/N ended up pinning them down with her thighs and hooking her foot under his calf in the process. She began to pick up the pace along with him, his breath getting ragged and his entire body going into overdrive.

"Look at you, lovely." She smirked, enjoying the way he was squirming and squealing. "So pretty. So wonderful." She gave his cock a few final pumps before pausing to watch his face.

He was flushed, his eyes bright, his chest heaving, and his hair a mess of sweat -soaked curls. "Please keep going," he begged. "I'm almost there."

"I just wanted to take a mental picture of you like this," she whispered. "I'm so glad you let me take care of you."

Once she resumed, he was whining and pleading and begging for release. He was getting loud and messy, and Y/N loved every second of it but "Don't want to wake our neighbours. Can you be quieter for me, baby?"

Sluggishly, Spencer nodded. Y/N could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to get himself under control. It didn't work. He was soon making even more noise.

"Do you mind if I put my hand over your mouth, lovely?" Y/N asked him, settling a soft kiss upon his cheek. Spencer agreed with a loud hum, so she placed her palm over his mouth and held it there, watching his face as it contorted with pleasure. "Good boy, good boy, baby. That's it, feel good for me. Feel so good."

His whole body shook, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Y/N watched his every muscle and vein tense and release as he came. She kept her hand over his mouth until he went still, and his head slumped against hers.

When Y/N finally took her hand away from his mouth, he was completely spent and mumbling a totally fucked out, "I love you. I really love you, Jesus. I love you and your magic hands."

Y/N stroked his hair and kissed the side of his face. "I love you too, handsome. Let's clean you up then go to bed now, yeah?" She guided him to the bathroom for a quick shower while he mumbled incoherently about how much he loved her and how he was going to repay her in the morning.

Because she may have magic hands, but he'd been told by past flings that his mouth was legendary and he was prepared to show his thanks for as long as she'd let him.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #doctor reid #criminal minds

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 months

Text

Love Conquers All (one-shot)

Synopsys: The wedding is finally afoot. Astarion and his love have fought for it tooth and nail, but could there be more to life after happily-ever-after?

Set after the main events of BG3 This is a follow up to Homecoming (one-shot). Would probably advise reading it beforehand :)

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst, insecure Astarion, but just pure teeth-rotting fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, mentions of SA

Word count: 8875

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Astarion knew ever since he met Y/N, she was the only one he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. They had gone through hells and back for one another, quite literally going head-to-head with a devil. They’d fought for their happily ever after tooth and nail, and now, the biggest day of their lives (yet) was here.

The vampire spawn woke up from his trance jittery and excited for what was to come. It had been ages since he’d felt this way, such joy while looking forward to what the day had installed for him because he was finally going to marry the love of his life.

Their day would be perfect, Astarion had done everything to ensure it. He’d taken to wedding planning like a cat to cream, making sure that once their day arrived, even the smallest detail would be flawless.

It had taken them two years to settle on a time of the year, let alone a date, but that had given him enough time to grow the flowers for the arrangements that now decorated their house, fussing with them like one would with a child (and sometimes threatening a certain rose if it didn’t grow the way he wanted it to). He even invertedly created a couple of new variates in the process, but those were specifically relegated as the flowers Y/N would weave in her hair for the ceremony.

He had even meticulously studied cookery books, having his parents along with his love be his taste testers, seeing he couldn’t really enjoy eating human food, but he’d be damned if something disgusting would be served in his house, no less on his wedding day. Unless it had a ten out of ten approval from everyone involved, Astarion scrapped the recipe and started over. He was fairly certain the caterers hated him because he’d made them prepare the food before and until they got it absolutely right, he was on their asses day and night.

But if he had to pick a favourite process throughout all the planning, it was when Y/N had come to him late one night as he burrowed himself in his sowing room and requested, that he design and make her wedding dress. Astarion almost got down on his knees in reverence as she looked at him with such tender eyes. And, well, let’s just say – during fittings, his hands might’ve skimmed the inside of her thighs on more than one occasion, and his head might’ve slipped below the skirt to taste between her legs, wholly unprofessional.

Oh, and that dream of a house with a grand library, where shelves of books stretched from one corner to the other, and a large ballroom to host parties until daylight broke – no longer was it a simple dream, but rather his reality. Not only that, he could hear people fussing all across the house as hired staff prepared final details and decorations for the ceremony.

The new house, or let’s be honest, the manor, Astarion and Y/N lived in, had not come easy though. He’d pretty much brought his lover to the end of her wits when they’d gone on the search for their dream home. In the end, it boiled down to her threatening to make them live in the forest like Halsin, sleeping on the hard ground, if he didn’t come to a decision.

Astarion was aghast at the suggestion, crossing his arms and pouting hard. “Why are you so upset about this?” He couldn’t understand what the big issue was with him being so picky. “We’re looking for the place to start our new lives in! It has to be no less than absolute excellence! Do you not want that?”

“Of course, I do!” Y/N rolled her eyes, putting her half-drunk wine glass on the bedside table and shifting her body to completely face him. “But nothing is perfect in this world, Star.”

When he narrowed his scarlet gaze at her, she huffed and shifted to sit on her knees, cupping his face between her palms. “Nothing in life is without its flaws, but that’s the beauty of it all. It gives us a chance to grow and change. And it’s the same with a house. Floors are fixable. Sofas and divans can be reupholstered. Walls can be repainted, those dilapidated wallpapers ripped off, hells we can knock the wall down if we want to… but we will never find our perfect home if we don’t put the work in and make it ourselves.”

Y/N’s soft thumb ventured up to smooth out the grumpy lines that had appeared on Astarion’s forehead. “If you want perfect, you have to do the work to make it so. Because that last house we saw, the one you said could be ours, if it didn’t have those stains on the table or that feeling wallpaper or the hole in the roof that needs fixing – that was someone else’s perfect home because they made it that way.”

Astarion scrunched his nose. “Did a shitty job, that’s for sure.”

If Y/N could roll her eyes any harder, he was sure they’d get stuck in the back of the skull like that. “My point is, we have to make it that way. Yes, the whole process will be long and tedious and I’m fairly certain, there will be moments where we want to kill each other, because, gods forbid, I want the blackout curtains to be emerald not burgundy. But none of that will matter because it will be ours… what can be more perfect than that?”

The vampire always had a comment on the tip of his tongue, he always had a sarcastic remark or some sort of critique to offer, but to this, he had nothing to reply, as he pondered the words.

Y/N tilted her head, a smile blooming on her lovely mouth. “I know you want everything to be exactly how you see it in your head, right from the very start. I know you don’t want to fight anymore, and gods, my love, you don’t deserve to fight for anything, but this isn’t it… this is change. And I think you’re more scared than annoyed at all the little things that might need mending.”

Astarion averted his gaze, looking past Y/N and to the window, the bright light of the moon illuminating the woods beyond. From the corner of the eye, he could see her engagement ring, the ruby glinting like a star in the sky. A finger brushed over his brow, soothing him. “I think you’re nervous to go after what you want, so you’re trying to find any possible reason as to why every house we’ve viewed has had something unfixable to it.”

Closing his eyes, Astarion leaned into her touch. “I hate it when you can see through me like that.” He hated to admit it. It felt like some sort of weakness to be seen so clearly, but he also knew Y/N would never judge him for his fears. But it was still hard to voice them. “I just – I’m scared it will be different.”

“It will be.” She shrugged. “But different doesn’t mean it’ll be bad.”

He didn’t seem convinced though as his mind and attention drifted off, and she had to tilt his chin towards her, a kiss to his forehead bringing him back into the moment. “My Star, we can always stay right where we are. I love this house. And as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter where we make our home.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, my love,” Astarion let out an undignified scoff. “As darling as this place is, I still want that library. And, well, maybe a tailoring room would be lovely. And I can’t say I would be opposed to a walk-in closet, instead of that little dresser we have now.”

More and more his lips turned into a smile and his gaze lightened as they went on until the morning dawned, talking and mapping out what their perfect abode would be like. They talked about the colours of the walls, where they’d like to hang paintings and how many mattresses their bed should have. Astarion insisted on at least three, so it would feel like resting on a cloud. Y/N thought it was a bit ridiculous, but if that was what he wanted, it’s what he would get. As long as he promised her to have separate duvets, the cover hog that he was.

They settled on a manor near the city, but far enough from the crowds to still keep some sort of privacy. She had been right about the restorations being long and mind-numbingly taxing and took them over a year and a half to return the manor to its former glory. All of their funds sank into it, and as Y/N had also warned – there came a moment where it seemed like they would rip one another’s heads off, having to spend a night in separate rooms. But now they got to relish in the fruits of their labour as the ballroom Astarion had manifested was being transformed into their wedding chapel.

He lazily stretched out his limbs, curling around his still-sleeping love. If he’d had a tail, the cat that he was, he would weave it over Y/N’s middle and curl it, trying to pull her closer if possible.

The woman grumbled something unintelligible, tightening the hold she had on one of the four pillows she had.

“Good morning, my wife. Our big day is here. Time to get up.” Gently, he brushed strands of wild hair from her face, placing them behind her ear, to which he leaned down and gave a playful nibble. To Astarion’s delight, he felt a shiver run down her spine, her toes curling against where she’d pressed them to his calf.

“Not your wife yet,” Y/N grumped, turning so that she could hide her face in the crook of his neck, tickling the sensitive skin there with warm puffs of breath. “And your bride needs her beauty sleep unless you wish for her to look like a troll at the altar. Didn’t give me much of it last night.”

A wicked grin formed on his mouth, one incisor lightly biting on her earlobe. “I didn’t hear you complaining though. In fact, I didn’t hear you say anything but my name.”

Teasing fingers brushed against her ribs and the underside of her breasts, a breath hitching in Y/N’s chest. When he splayed his hand against her stomach, she hummed in pleasure, the sound reverberating through his chest and seeping into his bones.

Her own palms moved from hugging Astarion’s side to his back, nails softly scratching up and down the skin there – so very tenderly over the scars, but with a bit of a bite right above his rear. If he could purr, he would be, but alas, he just moaned and melted like an icicle in the sun.

It was almost tempting to just stay in the bed like that, twining together and just relishing in one another’s touch.

“When are your parents getting here?” Y/N yawned and pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “Your mother promised to help me with the dress and hair.”

“Right as the sun goes down. We should have plenty of time before the moon is high.”

They had decided on a night-time wedding, so the following celebrations could be moved outside into the lavish gardens Astarion had so lovingly created. He may not be able to walk in the sun anymore, but he’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy at least the moonlight. Besides, daytime weddings were so casual, and he was anything but.

He rested his palm in between Y/N’s breasts, but he just kept it there, didn’t try and stray any further. He simply wanted to feel how her heart beat against his palm, the rhythm a steadying and grounding feeling, and it somewhat calmed his fluttery nerves.

“Then we have a few more hours to sleep,” came Y/N’s slurred response as she hitched a leg over his naked hip, but she didn’t try to go any further either. “And you are not getting out of this bed, my personal pillow.”

Astarion smiled at her words and kissed her forehead. He’d been smiling an awful lot since he met her. “Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

And even though he itched to go downstairs and supervise every single thing, he allowed the peace that came with being next to Y/N to settle over him as well. It was their day. His day. And starting it off with his little human sweetheart wrapped around him like a vine, keeping him close to her, was nothing short of wonderful.

At some point, she did fall asleep again, Astarion’s movements as his deft fingers massaged the back of her head, lulling her to dreamland. His mind drifted a bit but remained more alert than when he tranced, wandering to how exactly he’d gotten to a moment where in just a few little hours he’d become someone’s husband.

Not only did he have Y/N, but he had his parents to relish in the moment with. He had friends, something that was competently out of the question for two hundred years, and all of them would be arriving to witness the most joyous day of his life. Him! With friends! He even had a true sister, something that’d surprised even him.

That had come about when Astarion had ventured into the Underdark once and reconnected with Darylia. At first, he’d thought there would be too much bad blood between them, no pun intended. It’s why he’d strayed away from the region after he’d freed the rest of the seven thousand spawn from Cazador. Too many painful memories bound them, but instead of admonishments, he found comfort.

He’d bumped into Dalyria at a tavern as he was tracking down an artefact. Astarion was nothing short of astonished when she invited him to a tavern for a drink. The conversation was awkward at first, but as they talked more and more, she seemed to be actually happy for him as he confirmed he was still with Y/N, had a little house by the forest to call their own and spent his days keeping in touch with the party that’d formed during the tadpole adventure while trying to get a sowing business off the ground. She was even more ecstatic to hear when Astarion announced he was engaged.

Dal had a wistful smile on her face. “I would be a liar if I said I didn’t envy you, but… you deserve it. All that happiness… after what Cazador put you through, you deserve all that’s good.”

He didn’t want to, but a ball formed in his throat at her words. “Cazador wasn’t kind to any of us.”

“No,” she mussed. “But you did free us from him. And when you had the chance to take his power for yourself, to become the most powerful vampire in existence, you didn’t. You allowed us to go out there and regain the years we lost under his control. To make our own lives. For that, you deserve only the best.”

A snort escaped him as he swirled the remains of his wine. “Y/N would say not committing mass murder is quite a low bar, if that’s why I’m worthy of happiness.”

“Maybe, but no one would fault you had you gone for it.”

“Maybe…” Astarion pondered. “But I would not have been worthy of Y/N, then. That is for sure.”

Dalyria clinked her glass of blood against his before emptying it, and he was glad he had not been drinking himself as he sure would have choked on the drink. “Will you teach me how to find love? I – I think I’d like to find what you two have. Become… worthy of having it.”

Astarion didn’t know how to respond, but ultimately said he could only try, yet unless the change came from within, there wasn’t much he could do. And the hardest part wouldn’t be learning how to find love, but learning how to love oneself. Only then you could learn how to love others.

“Seems awfully tedious,” Dalyria’s brow had furrowed.

He chuckled and nodded. “It is. But I’ve learned, as much as it can be boring, it’s worth it in the end.”

It had taken time for the vampire to start the process of self-acceptance and processing the trauma, but Astarion was right there by her side, and now, she would be by his, a partner of her own next to her, a human at that, as he tied the knot.

Y/N’s nose scrunched in her sleep as their blissful moment was interrupted by a bell chiming through the house. She grabbed a pillow and smushed it over her head hitting him in the face in the process. “We should’ve eloped.”

“My love, you know as well as I do, our dear friends would’ve hunted us down like prey and dragged us before an altar by the ears. And honestly – I would help them with that.”

When they had rolled out the announcement of their engagement, Astarion’s mother helping them write beautiful little cards to send to their party most had actually shown up to congratulate them in person.

Karlach had been the first one to arrive, banging on the door to let her in, seemingly bursting with excitement. “If my engine wasn’t fixed, I think I would have levelled a whole block when I got the card!” She jumped up and down as she smothered them in a hug.

The second the Tiefling reluctantly released Y/N and Astarion from her grasp, Shadowheart appeared, a bit more subdued in the way she showed her happiness, but still very much so thrilled. She’d even brought along a bottle of wine, as such an event had to be celebrated.

Gale along with Tara teleported right into the living from straight from Waterdeep, a chest of tomes with him, a gift for the library Astarion wanted.

“I even cancelled today’s lectures, and my students were so delighted, they also got you something.” He extended a smaller box, a gorgeous set of feather pens inside. “A thanks for the day off and congratulations on the engagement.”

Wyll, now Grand Duke, joined the festivities right as the sun started its descent.

“I would’ve come sooner, but duties call.”

“Ever the honourable man.” Astarion hugged the once Blade of Frontiers. “I’m lucky Y/N doesn’t care much for honour, otherwise I would be fighting a losing battle.”

“It’s all the blood loss,” she chimed in, hugging Wyll as he congratulated her. “Questionable decisions are not uncommon when oxygen is depleted in the blood.”

Her vampiric love pointed a finger at her. “Well, there are no takebacks, so deal with it.”

Oh, how far he’d come such jokes didn’t sting, and instead he could laugh at them because he knew she wouldn’t leave him. It was certainly not something he ever had to fear.

Halsin and Lae’Zel were last to join Dalyria accompanying them as the night settled, completing their little group.

They spent hours drinking and laughing, enjoying red drinks, some wine, and some other ethically sourced, of course, substances as they lounged by the fireplace.

“So, when will the actual wedding be?” Gale asked as he stretched over a loveseat, Tara having claimed his lap as a napping spot, her purrs echoing through the room. “I would be more than happy, and well, my students most definitely, to cancel the exams for it. Such an affair cannot be missed. Two heroes of Baldur’s Gate wedding each other.”

Wyll pointed a finger at the wizard. “You know, you are onto something. I might just have to make it a day of celebration in the city!”

“Actually…” Y/N shifted next to Astarion. “We were thinking of just going to a magistrate and signing the papers as soon as possible. Nothing grand really.”

A stunned silence settled before Dalyria snapped her gaze toward her brother. “You must be joking,” she deadpanned. “Astarion, I think you might need to lay off feeding from her for a while.”

“Y/N was thinking that,” he rolled his eyes at the outburst. “I disagree.” Turning on his best pout, the vampire glanced at the woman pressed to his side. “You would so willingly deprive me of seeing you in a wedding dress like it isn’t the most important day of our lives. I, for one, wish for this to be my only wedding, yet you break my heart into pieces with your words.”

Lae’Zel let out her signature “t’chk” of disapproval at Y/N’s amused huff. “I cannot believe I am saying this, but the spawns are right. A ceremony must be held. None of this magistrate nonsense, but a real, proper ceremony.”

“You all just want a party.” The Y/H/C-haired woman crossed her arms over her chest.

Halsin boomed a chuckle. “Well, we will not say no to the one a wedding comes with. But if you do not wish to have your dearest companions, people who love you most in the world, to be next to you on such an important day, that is completely dine. It is your wedding after all.”

“Oh, come on!” Y/N threw her hands up with a laugh. “That is so unfair! I mean, I just don’t care for the pageantry of it all.”

“Sweetheart, you are marrying the most pompous man to walk this earth. No offense, Astarion.” Shadowheart looked at the elf, but he simply shrugged, as it was true. “And you mean to tell me there will be no grand display of love?”

Her lover nodded at the cleric’s words, batting his lashes at Y/N. “Besides, would you truly be so cruel, that you’d deny my parents such a day? After everything they’ve gone through.”

“Alright, now you’re just blatantly blackmailing me.” She gave him a humour-filled look.

Astarion put a hand on his chest in mock outrage. “Blackmail my darling intended? I would never! However, if I were, I would also mention that the ring on your finger did belong to my mother, who so lovingly passed it onto you, saying she wished for you to wear it when she saw you next. You know, just a little information, to tug on your heartstrings.”

And tug at her heartstrings it did, as Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes widened, no doubt mind whirling from the statement.

“This is your mother’s ring?” She looked down at the piece of jewellery like it was the most precious thing in the world. “You didn’t tell me that.”

He didn’t intend for her to cry, but he wiped at her cheeks as a couple of tears rolled down her face. “She gave it to me the night we went to see my parents for the first time. I was already preparing to do it, but it just gave me the final push I needed to actually ask you. Even though I technically never did ask.” Astarion nudged her side, and Y/N snorted, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

“Wait, hold on.” Dal leaned forward, a scrutinous gaze turned towards the elf. “What do you mean he never asked the bloody question? First no wedding, now no proper proposal?”

Karlach though seemed to have other more pressing thoughts in her head. “Holy shit, Fangs, you robbed your mother’s grave!? I mean that is messed up even for you!”

“Rewind.” Gale swirled a finger in the air. “You have a mother?”

All these questions and statements were said one over the other as the room exploded into a full-blown interrogation, everyone flinging queries their way. It took Astarion and Y/N about an hour to respond and tell the full story, but not before they stopped laughing.

At that moment though, Astarion clad in his silk pyjama set, the face greeting him was so full of delight, Karalch shone brighter than the set sun.

“I feel like I could just burst!” The tiefling hugged him, and he responded in kind. It’d become one of his favourite physical ways to show and receive affection. “But where is the wife-to-be herself?”

“Still in bed. You know Y/N and mornings, well, nights I guess, do not mix.”

“Ah, yes,” a male voice agreed and Karlach stepped aside to allow Wyll to enter. “You know, there were moments during our adventure when I genuinely thought our fearless leader would be the one to end us. Remember that time Gale woke her up before dawn because he needed an artefact to consume? His poor eyebrows.” The Grand Duke shook his head. “Honestly thought it might’ve very well have been the last moments of our dear wizard.”

“And yet, it wasn’t!” As if summoned, the Wizard of Waterdeep himself poofed into existence in the foyer. “I live to see yet another day where I can bless my friends with my presence. Eyebrows intact this time.”

Astarion couldn’t control the eye roll as it was almost reflexive when it came to Professor Gale Dekarios, but he couldn’t deny the happiness rushing through his veins seeing the man. If he ever saw Mystra in the mortal plane, she’d better start praying to a god herself, for what he put his friend through.

“It was… quite the look, I have to say,” Lae’Zel commented as she entered the house, joining their group. It seemed like they had a tendency to appear in the same places at the same time even without scheduling such a thing. “But do not attempt to upstage the bride, Gale. Astarion will already be doing his best. Though if these are your chosen clothes,” she gave him a onceover. “I believe Y/N has absolutely nothing to be concerned about.”

Astarion scoffed. “This is handwoven silk.”

“That is poor excuse for wedding attire.” Shadowheart appeared behind them all. “For once we agree, Lae’Zel, so enough with the chitchatting. A wedding needs to happen, and you need to get dressed.”

The only reason he’d decided to put on some clothes was because the thought of his parents walking in on him naked, was enough to pull out all the stashed winter attire and cover himself up so much nothing but his nose would be showing. Now though, Astarion almost wanted to rip them off just to spite the gathered crowd but abstained.

Before he did scamper off, he showed where they could go and mingle while he checked on the final details, especially how the ballroom was looking, and he had to admit, the drow in charge of decorations had turned it into something from a fairy tale.

The room had high windows, all the shutters open to let in the pale light of the moon garlands hanging from the ceiling and walls, the many mirrors on the sides, giving an effect that the room was larger than it truly was, creating an illiusion of a forest inside their home. At the very end between two columns of chairs was the altar where Shadowheart would officiate, two golden cups already placed on a velvet pillow.

There was hired staff in the gardens where food and drinks were being handed out.

Astarion took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out. Everything was going to be just fine. He had promised as much to Y/N. This nervousness had been one of the reasons he’d wanted to take on the whole wedding affair onto himself.

“I don’t want you to lift a single finger.” Astarion had brushed his nose against Y/N’s cheek after it was settled a full-blown wedding was happening and their friends had dispersed, leaving the two lovebirds on their own. “Just leave it all to me.”

“I mean, I can’t do that,” she exasperated. “It’s our day. We both should be involved. I won’t put such an event all on your shoulders.”

“But I want you to! Listen to me – me getting to order others around as they have to bend our every wish and whim, while all you have to do is nod for yes, and shake your head for no – sounds like a great time to me.”

“Sounds very unfair to you.” Y/N was still sceptical frowning hard at Astarion’s proposition.

“Look,” he sighed, taking her hand in his. “Let me do this for you. For us. You saved me back when I thought I was beyond it. I fully believed I was relegated to nothing but a life of pain and darkness and then… you showed up. You helped me through so many horrors, held me when it felt like the walls were pressing in… I would not have been able to do so without you. So please… let me make this day something you can enjoy and not have to worry about. I am very convincing when I set my eyes on something I want.”

And when he pulled his puppy dog eyes on her, Astairon knew he had her right where he wanted. Y/N could never resist him when his eyes got all soft and round. He could practically see her resolve melting then and there like fresh-fallen snow.

“Alright,” she conceded, and with a passionate kiss against her lips, he pulled her to sit in his lap. “But if it becomes too much, you have to promise to ask me for help.”

“I swear it.” Astarion pecked her lips once more, and though he had no intentions of letting her lift a finger, he was truthful when making such a vow. With Y/N, he’d learned it wasn’t a crime or sign of weakness to request aid.

He left the door open, surely more guests would be arriving, but before he could disappear, two more frames rushed up the steps, his mother and father practically beaming with pride as they saw him.

“I think your druid friend is also on the way,” his mother said, pressing a light kiss to Astarion’s cheek and pulling him in for a hug. “But he stopped to pet a flock of sheep along the way.”

The vampire snorted. “Well, we can only hope Halsin actually arrives for the ceremony on time. Or doesn’t bring the lambs as guests… appetizers though.”

She gave him an amused smile, before squeezing his hand. “I’ll just go and say hello to that wizard of yours. I think I saw him walking somewhere in the gardens and then I’ll be right up with Y/N. Has the sleeping beauty awoken yet?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, frowning. It was a well-known fact his love was a notorious sleepyhead, but that was not his reason for watching with a grimace how his mother practically skipped to the terrace in search of Gale.

“How does she know him?” he directed the question at the male elf standing beside him.

His father sighed, looking at his wife as she disappeared behind the corner, but not before she made sure she looked good, fluffing up her hair in the mirror before the grand entrance to their house. “She’s been quite obsessed with his cookbook. Just be glad she didn’t bring it along for an autograph. But enough of that. You need to get dressed, my Star. The moon is almost nigh.”

All other thoughts vanished from Astarion’s head as he noted how the white orb was pretty much at its peak, and the notion of getting married suddenly became a tangible thing. In just a few hours, under the pale light, he would vow to protect and cherish Y/N, they’d fill one another’s cups and drink, before tying strands of magical gold around one another’s fingers as a symbol of their unity in the ancient elven traditions. Astarion was about to become a husband with Y/N as his wife. If his heart had still beaten, it would’ve been jumping out of his chest.

“Did you feel like this as well when you married Mother?” the vampire’s hand shook as he entered the sowing room he’d claimed as his dressing room for the day. A naked mannequin stood at the corner. It’d born Y/N’s dress which was now surely being slid onto her frame, perfectly fitting against her body, and it was just another reminder of what was to come.

His father closed the door, going over to a suit that was hanging on another mannequin and slipped it off, laying it gently onto a settee. “Like what, Star?”

“Like unless in twenty seconds this whole thing is over, you’ll pass out.”

The deep chuckle the older elf let out was like a reassuring hug, somewhat calming Astarion. “Yes. Very much so. Add onto that wanting to throw up and black spots across my vision, I was pretty much hopeless. But then I was by the altar waiting for your mother, and when she appeared… nothing else mattered. It’s just the waiting that’s horrible.”

“Gods, maybe Y/N was right,” Astarion breathed out, sitting down by his tailoring table, head in his hands. “We should have definitely eloped. I mean it’s not normal to feel this way, is it?”

“Dear Star, it might have taken us two hundred years to find you, and we’ve only been lucky enough to have you back for two, but make no mistake,” his father deadpanned. “Your mother is not above murder and physical restraint if needed.”

“Yes, I know, you kidnapped my bride,” Astarion said. “But, I mean, what if it’s not perfect?” He looked at the elf. Blue reassuring eyes stared back, but even the conviction he saw in them couldn’t quench the lingering fear. “What if she isn’t there? What if I’m left a fool standing by the altar and she does not come?”

Those last words were barely a whisper, shame running through his veins as he said them, but it had been something plaguing his nightmares for weeks on end – Y/N finally realising she deserved so much better and leaving him heartbroken.

When he awoke in a cold sweat and she asked what was wrong, Astarion wrote it off as having a bad dream about Cazador. In truth, he hadn’t dreamt of his master in a long time, his only fear being Y/N tossing him to the side for something better.

“Astarion,” his father said sternly, but not unkindly. “That woman has walked through literal hells for you. And taken on a devil, as you yourself have told us. I highly doubt now would be the moment she gets cold feet.”

Deep down in his heart, he knew the words rang true. Astarion remembered after having killed Cazador, how strongly the urge to Ascend took over. Such power right at the tips of his fingers, yet at the cost of seven thousand souls. But at that moment, he was willing to pay it. He’d never have to be afraid of anything anymore if he finished the ritual. All he needed was for someone to copy the runes on his back. He’d turned to Y/N, someone who he knew supported him, but to his shock, she refused.

Fury took him over. He’d thrown insults so vile it made bile rise in his throat nowadays when thinking back on it. Words wishing her a painful and slow demise, telling her he hoped she died screaming. Astarion had expected her to leave, yet as his mind had cleared, processing the grief and agony he was going through, she was there by his side.

Even though he didn’t deserve it, Y/N held him as he cried, and whispered comforting words when he could do nothing but slump over himself in physical and emotional exhaustion. She was there for him like an unmovable rock, that not even time or tide could erode.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion had begged that night for her forgiveness while she cradled him in her arms. “I’m sorry for what I said. I was – I was blinded by the power. By what I could be, what I could do… I – reality was no longer visible to me. And I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” Y/N’s kiss was a balm to his wounds, especially those that no one else but her could see or soothe. “And I forgive you.”

Astarion’s father put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him out of the reminiscing. “She will be there because if there is one thing in this world I don’t doubt, it’s her love for you.”

He wrapped that thought around his heart. She would be there. Y/N would always be there for him. But first, he had to be the one to await her, so with his father’s help, he stood up and got ready.

After a year of getting reacquainted with his parents, he’d told them some of what Cazador had done. With Y/N holding his hand through it, he even felt brave enough to show his scars. There were a lot of tears and hugging, and much to his surprise, talks of resurrecting the vampire lord by his mother, just so she could drive a stake through his heart. And Y/N was very eager to agree.

His love had a vicious glint in her eye, and Astarion had to swallow his arousal as she leaned closer over the table where they’d been drinking afternoon tea and said, “I know how to skin a man and keep him alive the whole time.”

“Yes!” His mother accepted the idea immediately. “Let’s do that! My Star, how do we contact that Withers friend of yours?”

Honestly, the fact that Astarion was the one trying to quench their bloodlust and be the peacekeeper, for a moment, made him think he’d been thrown into some different universe. That was not how he expected the conversation over some tea and biscuits to go.

His father smoothed down the back of the white linen shirt and Astarion tucked it into the white trousers while the older elf helped with the cuffs, onyx squares glinting in the warm light of the candelabras. Looking down, he surveyed the intricate frock he’d slaved over days and nights.

It was matching a ivory to that of Y/N’s dress, the chest decorated with weavings of golden threads, much like what he’d sown across the bodice and through the hemlines of her gown. Astarion smiled, a gentle finger skimming over his work, knowing what the scribbles meant.

To the unknowing, it looked nothing more than a pattern of leaves and flowers, but to those who could read ancient elvish, the truth was laid bare. The idea had struck him late one night as he’d sketched Y/N’s dress. With the help of his parents, as his memory of what once used to be his mother tongue was not so good, he stitched into the fabric little love confessions.

Throughout her wedding attire, he’d sown the words of his undying love, of what she meant to him, and on his own jacket, he’d sown the promises he intended to keep as a husband, to always make sure she was safe and loved.

By the time he was tying the cravat, Astarion’s knees were shaking, and his father had to take over, tucking in the piece of cloth by his chest.

The vampire ran a quivering hand through his white hair. “So?” Gods, even his voice was trembling. How was he supposed to say his vows and not sound like a growing youth whose voice was on the verge of breaking? “How do I look?”

For a moment, his father didn’t say anything, just smoothed down the fabric over his shoulders. “Like a man ready to start the best chapter of his life.”

“Good.” Astarion nodded. “Because now I’m feeling that nausea you talked about.”

The older elf let out a warm laugh before nudging his chin towards the open window and when he looked over, he saw the moon shining bright in the sky, a smattering of millions of stars behind it. “It’s time, Star.”

With a shaky breath, Astarion nodded. He was ready. As long as he remembered how to move his mouth and say words, nothing could go wrong.

As he walked back towards the foyer, gentle music greeted him, meaning the string quartet of bards had arrived and their family and friends were filtering into the ballroom.

It was as if he was floating, barely being able to acknowledge the gathered people. Some patted him on the back, some asked if he was excited, and all of his responses were like through a haze, especially as he took his place by the altar.

Shadowheart was already there, giving him an encouraging smile.

“Don’t you clean up nice.”

Astarion wanted to give some sort of a sarcastic quip, but all he could manage was a hum of acknowledgement. He was really truly, nervous. The breath entering his lungs was shaky and came out the same way. He didn’t even need to breathe, but if he didn’t, he might just pass out.

“If it’s any consolation, Y/N is calm as a cucumber,” the cleric said. “Or maybe she’s just a better actress than you.”

The vampire’s pale brows scrunched, as he looked at the woman. She just shrugged.

“She said she knows you’ll be here. What more is there for her to want or be afraid of?”

And that trust, the belief Y/N had in Astarion, settled something in his heart, and when his parents entered, taking their seats in the front row, both elves beaming, all that fear disappeared like mist in the morning.

Beautiful music swirled around them, and all of the guests stood.

The whole world stopped turning the second he laid his eyes on Y/N.

Her body was clad in the white gown he’d poured all his love and care into, the gold thread shimmering in the candle and moonlight. Her hair was free as she always preferred, but small, intricate braids inlaid with diamonds as if rain had settled atop her head, a flower crown gracing the top of it. Y/N’s skin was also covered in a shimmery powder, that made her absolutely glow, as if from within, and the Y/E/C eyes he loved to get lost in, were lined with kohl giving her gaze an intense look. Had it not been for her rounded ears, Y/N would be the epitome of a true elven queen.

Astarion released a breath that’d gotten stuck in his chest and tears welled in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks.

He’d been lucky, especially in these past few years where he’d been able to witness a lot of beautiful things. But nothing was as beautiful as her walking toward him.

Y/N’s head was high, as her gaze bore into his – his scarlet not looking away from her Y/E/C ones – her lips pulled in the widest smile he’d ever seen on her face.

Gods, she was beautiful, and his ego also revelled in how that grin was directed at him. At only him. It seemed like it took her ages, but at the same time not even a couple of seconds to be standing before him, handing off her bouquet of lilies of the valley to his mother and placing her palms in Astarion’s awaiting ones.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Y/N, but she couldn’t take hers off him. Vaguely he heard Shadowheart offer blessings and words of wisdom for the new couple as they started their joined lives. Astarion only snapped back to reality when it was time for him to take the golden thread and tie it around her finger, an ancient elven tradition – instead of simply exchanging rings, one would take a twine of gold and imbue it with the power of their words, before the vows were sealed.

No longer did his hands shake, and his voice didn’t crack once as he said his vows, as he gently twisted the twine and looped it back around where it moulded together by magic on their own, creating a gorgeous ring.

Then it was Y/N’s turn.

“I vow to protect your life as my own,” her voice was soft and steady as she spoke. “I vow to walk the dark paths and lead you to the light when needed. I promise to be your reassurance when doubts come, and I promise to love you until the stars no longer shine.”

Astarion didn’t care as more tears slid down his cheeks and wetted the neckline of his frock when finally, the golden thread connected and solidified itself on his ringfinger.

He was married. He didn’t care that Shadowheart hadn’t said yet he could kiss his new wife, that they needed to drink the blessed wine from the cups, as he surged forward, taking Y/N by the wrist and smashing their lips together. From somewhere afar he heard whoops and cheers, and a “you could’ve waited for just a second more,” but it was all background noise with no meaning as his love’s palm slid to cup his jaw and pull him in for a deeper kiss.

All the nerves had been worth it. All the pain and suffering he’d gone through – it was all worth it just for that moment alone, when Y/N had to press him back a bit, a breathless laugh escaping her lips as she took in greedy gulps of air, but put her forehead against his, not straying far from his touch.

“I love you, husband.”

His cheeks hurt from so much smiling. “I love you, wife.”

They didn’t get to stay in the small bubble for long as people were stepping up, congratulating them, and pulling them in embraces from left to right.

The revelry slowly moved outside where drinks and food flowed without stopping. Slow melodies turned into fast foot-stomping beats, as people twirled and danced, celebrating the union between two of Baldur’s Gate’s heroes.

It was during a moment of reprieve when Y/N was chugging down glass after glass of water and champagne, Astarion following suit with some blood, when his parents came up to them, a small, yet intricate box in their hands.

The frame was of old oak, no doubt, scuffed at the edges and corners, while the top of it was engraved with a whole flora and fauna piece, but that didn’t matter. He’d said them being at the ceremony would be enough of a gift and that him and Y/N didn’t need anything, yet here the two elves were.

“Don’t even start, my Star,” his mother interrupted Astarion’s rant before he could even go on one. “There was no way we would’ve come empty-handed to your wedding. Besides, we think this might be of great interest to you two. And of use”

Gently, as if the box might crumble if touched any harder, the older elf opened it. Inside, laid on green velvet sat two golden bracelets, their visage moulded like wreaths of leaves and budding flowers.

They were handmade, that was certain, and ancient if his eye for jewels and jewellery didn’t deceive him. And it rarely did. But the oddest bit was the sensation it radiated as if it was imbued by vibrating energy, barely contained in the circlets.

“Could it really be – but no. That is only a legend,” Halsin’s and Gale’s eyes were wide as they beheld what lay in the box as the two had snuck up on the group and shadowed behind them. The druid gave Astarion’s parents a bewildered gaze. “How in the worlds did you come by this?”

“Let’s just say, you are not the only ones with connections.” His father threw Halsin a mischievous smile, but Astarion didn’t like that.

“And the cost for such a thing?”

His mother smiled. “My dear, you talk like your skill of words and stealing didn’t come from somewhere. We might be old, but that doesn’t mean we cannot have adventures of our own.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting this moment,” Gale said, “but can we get back to the fact you have the True Love’s Curse sitting in that box.”

“The what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed, but no one bothered to answer as Gale went on.

“I can feel the magic.” The wizard laid a reverent palm above the bracelets but didn’t touch them. “The Weave… I’ve never felt something so strong. As if it could change the matter of the cosmos around us at any second.”

Astarion lifted a finger, just as confused as his love, pointing at the bracelets. “What exactly is this curse? And, I do apologise, mother, as we appreciate everything you've done for us, but why in the worlds did you think a curse would be a great gift?”

“True Love’s Curse is simply the name,” Halsin said. “It’s an old elven legend of two lovers – one forever meant to walk the dark, the other meant for light. In the myth, they are so convinced they are soulmates and meant to be, they create two bracelets, symbols for their loves, imbued with a mirroring spell, but not just any average enchantment. It gives the nightwalker the ability to walk in the sun, but there is a cost – if the other person is no true love, no soulmate, the nightwalker will succumb to the rays and perish forever.”

Y/N grimaced. “Seems quite harsh. And unfair.”

Astarion’s father closed the box. “It’s why it’s called True Love’s Curse. But if there is anything we all can learn from you two, is that love conquers all.”

Hope ignited in the vampire’s chest, as he accepted the box.

Could there really be a chance he would be able to live his life with Y/N by his side, and also live it in the sun?

He used to be scared of what the future held for him, especially what the future with Y/N would be like. He’d had his doubts – that she probably didn’t actually love him. How she was with him only for pity or to use his body like so many others had before – but those no longer existed. She’d meticulously shattered every single brick of the wall that was his mistrust and built a castle of love in his heart. If what Astarion’s parents said was true, he had nothing to worry about – Y/N had been ready to walk her life in darkness with him and not asked anything in return apart from his devotion.

But he pushed the thoughts of the bracelets, of the True Love’s Curse, to the side as he was pulled in a dance by Dalyria, then her girlfriend, and at some point, even Lae’Zel allowed him to lead her in a slow waltz before once again returning to Y/N’s side. His rightful place

His arms wove around her waist, while her cheek leaned to rest against his chest. She sighed, closing her eyes.

Astarion pressed a kiss to Y/N’s head. “I don’t know what I might have done in a previous life, but whatever it was, it had to be something exceedingly good for me to end up with you.”

She hummed in contentment. “You deserve all that is kind in this world, my love. I am the least of it.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her she was his whole world, but instead, he closed his eyes too and smiled, relishing in the love. He did deserve good. He deserved all that was kind. It was time Astarion finally embraced it, and if that was Y/N in his arms, he would hold on a bit tighter then.

Hours later they stood alone by the cliffside, a slight breeze ruffling their hair as they waited for the sun to fully rise, the gardens empty, their house as well, as the wedding party had ended, leaving people satiated and tipsy on their way home.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Astarion asked. “What if they were wrong?”

“Then I have the cloak right here, and all the shutters have already been closed at the house.” She took his hand in hers, the bracelet clicking against his.

She didn’t try to convince him, give him false hope of how it would work, because not everything in life did. Not everything was perfect and not everything was supposed to be perfect. Of course, he would be devastated, if the True Love’s Curse was not real. But Astarion also knew he’d never be alone in it. He’d have Y/N by his side, as he always had. She wasn’t going anywhere and that was enough.

As the sun rose, the sky turning from a deep blue to pink, then orange and red, Astarion took in a deep breath. Then – on the first day as a married man – the first rays of a new day touched him for the first time in four years.

A tear rolled down his face, scarlet eyes not daring to stray away from the stunning view that was the dawn and greeted the sun like a long-lost friend.

Y/N gave him the widest smile ever, a match to the one she’d sported when seeing him by the altar. “Where to first, my love? We have the whole world for the taking.”

He looked at her, cupping her face. “First, to home. And then – to the very edge of the universe.”

Tags:

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: I've re-written this whole thing like 3 different times because I just couldn’t get it right, but now I feel like this is how it's meant to be :) I do have like extra 8k words of stuff I might release as smaller fics set around these two specific versions of the characters. Let me know if you'd like that or want to be tagged in future fics :)

I might edit this at some point a bit more. English is not my first language, so I need time to step away, before I can see additional mistakes.

Please don't repost on other platforms without specific written consent! That is called plagiarism

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pilfappreciator · 4 months

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Part 1 | Part 2

WAKE UP BABES!! DINNER IS SERVED!!!

Bruce/Brandi x Reader: part 2

Includes: GN! Reader, Vacay Lovers, polyamory, relationship headcanons, slight Bruce Jr. slander

💜 These two took things slow when they were wooing you, you better BELIEVE they're gonna do the same once you've actually been bagged

🧡 I MEAN DON'T GET ME WRONG!! They're not any less passionate about you or anything, but like... c'mon. They're middle-aged, run a full time business and are married with kids. They've got a lot on their hands already so chances are they're not immediatly urging you to move in with them or just straight up sign marriage documents (sorry to disappoint u_u)

💜 But like I said: this doesn't mean they're not good lovers

🧡 In fact I'd say in my entirely unbiased opinion that they'd make fantastic lovers! Wonderful! Superb, even!

💜 So naturally, once you find yourself added to the relationship? Expect all that supportive energy thrown your way too lol

🧡 No matter what endeavor you choose to pursue, rest easy knowing you'll have your own personal cheerleaders having your back at all times. You got a hobby you're really into? SAY LESS BABES!! Gift-giving is Brandi's love language so you bet your ass she's buying you everything you could possibly need. Wanna pursue some form of higher education, maybe get some fancy degree? BOOM, you've just signed yourself up for study sessions with Bruce

💜 (I mean like... he might not be much help if you're studying for something shmancy like law or medicine, but he will happily hold and read out flashcards for you :3)

🧡 Or maybe you just wanna help out around Vacay Island which? Yes hello they would love that??

💜 Running a business is no easy feat so the couple definitely welcome the extra set of hands (paws??). If you're more social and outgoing then chances are you're out on the front lines with Bruce, taking orders for food, welcoming guests and getting them settled in, leading activites like volleyball or the weekly shuffleboard tournament, etc.

🧡 Obviously if you'd rather remain behind the scenes, you're more than welcome to join Brandi on her end of things. Making food, booking guests into their rooms, keeping track of all the finances, etc.

💜 Maybe you're crap with spreadsheets and numbers and just wanna like... keep her company while she works at her desk? Grab her some refreshments every now and then?? Maybe even offer a shoulder massage once you've noticed she's been hunched over for too long???

🧡 I swear this woman will cherish you forever

💜 Whether you're another troll like Bruce or a fellow Vacationer like Brandi, the way you spend time with either of these two can differ

🧡 If you're on the smaller side? Bruce just enjoys getting to hold your hand while walking alongside you on the beach. The man spends pretty much all his time around literal giants and it can get a little overwhelming sometimes, so he can definitely appreciate having someone around who's more on his level (hehe). Brandi on the other hand just thinks your small size is cute! Hands down one of her favorite things is when either you or Bruce (OR BOTH) just like? Casually hitch a ride on her shoulder?? Or she'll hold you both in the palm of of her hand and just go "omigosh it's totally like holding a couple of grapes haha :D"

💜 Reader POV: Ah yes. Me, my boyfriend, and our giant girlfriend/wife

🧡 On the flipside, if you're closer to Brandi's size? This woman is taking every available opportunity to take full advantage of the fact. She's laying kisses all over your face, running her fingers through your hair, cuddling with you after a long day of work, etc etc. Technically speaking she COULD (and DOES) do all this regardless of how big/small you are... but at the same time it's just soooo much easier when she doesn't have to constantly watch herself so she doesn't accidentally crush you ://

💜 Meanwhile Bruce is just like "if either of you DO crush me... you won't hear any complaints from my end, just sayin"

🧡 Man is horrendously down bad 😳

💜 Last post i was like OUTINGS WITH BRANDI, but this post?? SURFING LESSONS WITH BRUCE! This man will not rest until you know how to ride a wave, okay, he is DEDICATED. Once you've gotten good enough, expect regular invites to the beach so you two can hit the ocean asdjahdslak

🧡 I like to think that even while running a business and family, Bruce and Brandi are still perfectly capable of maintaining a healthy love life— both with each other and you. Partly because they're just that in love but also cuz they don't let ANYTHING get in the way of weekly date nights (yeah that's right, plural)

💜 Bruce, on the phone: "Hey honey, me and (____) are outside the resturaunt. Where are you?"

"Oh, I'll probably be a few minutes. Bruce Jr. just set off a firework in the kitchen, you know how he is. But you two should go get us a table while you're waiting!"

"Alright, we'll see you later, love you :)"

"I love you guys more~"

🧡 And then Bruce just... hangs up and leads you inside the resturaunt, meanwhile you're just?? Very concerned????

💜 Dates with these two are pretty casual ngl. Neither feel the need for extravagant displays of love, so chances are the three of you are just spending some quality time together. Chillin at home without the kids, cooking/baking food together, watching reality TV

💜 (Tbh there's probably some trollverse version of The Bachelor/Bachelorett and lemme tell you that these two EAT THAT SHIT UP)

🧡 Of course if you wanna go out somewhere fancy then no worries!! Your girl Brandi knows the downlow on all the hottest spots in town and Bruce likely has enough connections to get you three reservations at even the fanciest restaurants

💜 Simply ask and these two will find a way to get it done <33

🧡 LOTS OF FAMILY OUTINGS WITH THE VACAY LOVERS HOUSEHOLD!!!

💜 At some point in the relationship Bruce will approach you and go "Hey, our son Benni has a dance recital tomorrow, did you wanna come?" and the second you say yes is the second you offically become a permanent member of the family. You are joining their monthly family camping trips. You are helping Brandi make cupcakes for school soccer games. You and Bruce are sitting down with the kids for homework help

🧡 Hopefully you've got good memory cuz you're gonna need to memorize 13 different fast food orders whenever the kids drag you to Bergen King askdhalslk

💜 Speaking of the little shits

🧡 You thought you were spending a lot of time with them BEFORE you were smoochin their parents?? Well congrats because the second you start becoming a permanent member at the dinner table, expect to have all 13 of them constantly hanging off you

💜 Maybe one of them needs your help practicing a new move they've learned from their martial arts class, maybe another wants someone to listen as they info dump about their latest hyperfixation, or maybe they just need help kickstarting their underground fireworks selling business

🧡 Cough cough (Bruce Jr) cough cough

ASJKJDHALJSKD THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN, I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH!! There were a for more headcanons i wanted to touch upon but the post was getting long lol. Definitely plan on doing more for them tho so no worries uwu

but i mean like if you guys got prompts/questions then go ahead, my asks are open 👀👉👈

#bruce jr. had like 10 seconds of screentime total #10 seconds is all i need to clock him as the family Shit-Stirer(tm)#(was gonna shorten his name to BJ but like...)#(i mean i'll slander him alright)#(but im not gonna do him THAT dirty)#trolls #trolls band together #bruce trolls #brandi trolls #Vacay Lovers #brozone #headcanon #brozone x reader #trolls x reader #x reader #spruce trolls

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jayswing103-blog · 1 year

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Look at how far they've come.

#fuufu ijou koibito miman #fuufu ijou #akari watanabe #jirou yakuin #yakuin jirou #watanabe akari #more than a married couple but not lovers #more than a couple less than lovers #more than a married couple less than lovers

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tarjapearce · 3 months

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Chapter 6: But Chaos Clings Within

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mild depictions of violence, emotional distress, mentions of mental illness, mentions of meds during pregnancies, graphic depictions of panic attacks, comfort towards the end, a squeeze of character background. Sexual language, Character study. No Proofread.

Summary: Just when things couldn't go worst, Miguel proves you wrong.

A/N: I do not condone toxic relationships or behaviors, much less encourage them. English is not my main so excuse any typos c:

Sorry for the wait, finally got the time to get this out :'). Internship is eating my soul. Feedback much appreciated ❤️. Enjoy!

Miguel O'Hara. Lab technician from the research department. Successful scientist, the best of his generation, the million dollar brain, as Sully had called him once, married to science, hard working man-

His calloused pads pinched the bridge of his nose.

And a cheater.

A deep exhale heaved through his already rigid nose, muscles hardening from the tension that always held an obsessed grip on his body. Like a ghost, permanent, silent and always manifesting in the least proper moments.

A liar,

He pulled the keys out from the slot, and grabbed in a single hand the stacked and unused boxes on the passenger's seat. Hoarding wasn't in his traits, as he'd rather to invest in things that nurtured his self or shut Dana up, like the ring she tossed on his chest after the elephant popped in the parking lot.

Hollow-hearted lover

This would be his last time entering the place that had been his shared home for the past four and a half years. His apartment judged him with it's silence, glaring his way from every ivory and smooth wall he walked by. Sneering at his life choices with minor inconveniences, that only added to his piled up and ever heavy stress load.

He walked towards the elevator, knowing by heart the buttons he needed to press. Moving towards the turns and angles he needed, to reach his soon long gone home.

Of course lights would be on, the new owner was already making some impromptu renovations in the trampled and spat on love nest. His keys, another thing he'd have to surrender later, were pushed inside the doorknob, to then open past the gates he always made sure to double lock before sleeping.

Dana's voice filled in the living room, followed by another he knew too well by the many times she'd welcomed him at Christmas gatherings. Blanca. Her older sister.

And a reluctant daddy.

The women stopped their talk as Miguel peeked over the door, hulking frame swallowing the narrow hall connecting to the jasmine smelling living room. There was no effusive greeting this time. No welcome home hugs, nothing but silence and an bungled up smile his way from Blanca.

The woman knew better than anyone that neither Miguel or Dana were perfect. Innocently mistaking the dreadful silence and tension between as another couple quarrel.

Does she knows?

Her demureness didn't give any hints that she actually did. And it was enough for him. He wasn't in his nines to hear another hysteric fit of how much of a coward he was, or how the consequences would be out there to get him sooner or later.

Another Tyler Stone.

"Gotta go"

She hugged Dana, and then him.

"Hope everything gets better soon." She'd mumbled through whispers.

The eldest of the D'Angelo siblings spoke with a sympathetic smile before leaving for the night. Almost running in her way out to avoid being used, as usual, as a mediator.

The door clicked quietly, and it was Dana's turn to heave a tired and languid breath, yet she didn't speak. Instead, she went over the kitchen to prepare some tea.

It was more than enough cue for him to mind his business and pack away the last bits of his belongings.

Some work tools, books, diplomas and the last bits of his clothes. To his surprise, they were neatly arranged and folded in a bag.

Eyes darted towards the kitchen where Dana was. Unbothered, focused on selecting the perfect mug for her comfort drink, ignoring his existence.

It didn't feel too different when they had a fight. The aftermaths were either them lying naked, breathless and laughing like loons or silence. It all depended on how bad the fight was and who displayed the ultimate final punch.

Miguel was usually the winner, leaving Dana in the corner of shame, nursing her defeat. But this time, she had won, a flawless and clean victory.

He hated it.

Cause it didn't matter how much he tried to come up with a comeback, there wasn't any. Her beating was too powerful to even fight back, leaving him on the floor, stunned but not wounded.

The boxes were filled in matter of minutes. The more he took away the more he realized his absence wasn't even acknowledged.

Dana had already filled in those spaces, and his things being removed only added a little mess in the neatly organized place if anything.

He wasn't missed.

In fact, the nattily folded clothes only reinforced his suspicion of Dana having her subtle way of hurrying his process, to get out of her home, her life and heart.

He took turns to fill in the void space of his car, accommodating the boxes and containers in a way to not damage anything fragile. One last box was everything that remained, reducing the countdown to mere minutes. He returned at the apartment to get his books.

Hefty pages easily carried in the cardboard recipient. As he lifted it like nothing, one of his thighs knocked over a golden, minimalistic and borderline abstract statuette next to the coffee table.

Dana's rushing steps made his scowl to deepen at the sudden accident.

"Goddammit, Miguel!"

It was her favorite. A tall figure cradling a small bundle. His best interpretation was a mother and his baby she had gotten in a gentrified decor shop, something that started after they talked about kids in the long run. She had gotten the supposed sacred and good luck figurine merely out of superstition.

And now it laid broken, in tiny shards on the floor, impossible to be glued back.

Dana brought the broom and the garbage collector to sweep off the pieces.

Miguel bent to pick up the bigger shards but Dana's stern voice stopped him

"Just leave it." She squeezed between him and the coffee table to pick up the pieces with such care it felt like picking herself up, "You've done enough." That's what she had been doing these past days.

Try and glue back all the pieces Miguel made sure to wham away with a sledgehammer.

"Dana"

Miguel's voice felt like a terse loofa on her tender skin, scrubbing raw and flushed red.

Blue gaze pinned him on the spot, a silent What from her. Sadly, they knew each other too well to ignore the subtle signs in the body language. Miguel crouched next to her, taking the rickety broom and plastic collector from her hands.

"Let me."

"Just leave, Miguel."

It was more a plead than anything. But stubborn was the main trait engraved into his brain ever since he was born.

"Dana, mi vida, look-"

"Miguel."

Her tone final. His hands rose up, defense in them.

"I'm sorry, ok?"

A shameless scoff escaped her pouty lips, while she retrieved the tools from his hands.

"The only thing you're sorry about is that you got caught, Miguel."

"I tried to correct-"

Dana took a sharp inhale before speaking, calmly. "You don't get it, do you?"

"I didn't think it would come to this, really. The condom-"

"Ugh! Stop. Stop!"

Dana had to take her distance from him, but he tried to reach out. A futile attempt as his ex fiancé slapped almost too gently his meaty palm. Away from her, disgusted and irked.

"You think I wanna hear how you fucked the receptionist? You should learn a thing or two from her-"

There it was. The bickering he loved, and the perfect chance to win her back. He didn't know if delusion hung high his brain today, but he was somehow convinced that Dana would tell him to stay. To fix everything. Delusion at it's finest.

"She was a slip-"

"And that slip and mistake ended up being pregnant and now she's trying to correct your fuck ups."

His brow quirked, suspicion rising at her sudden mellow talk.

"Didn't know you were her personal friend." His arms crossed while a hubristic smile stretched on his face. Seizing her with derision," Drank tea with her too?"

He was sure his eyes rolled so hard it hurt.

"My goodness. And to think I was about to marry you..."

Miguel snorted, cynic as usual "Stop acting surprised. Don't be a hypocrite you know how-."

"Hypocrite?! It's called empathy, jackass. Maybe you should learn it. While you're making fun of her and acting like we can go back to normal, she's desperate to find a solution to a problem you refuse to address or even acknowledge."

"For all I know, she could be lying and blame it on me," he tried to reason. But to no avail.

"You can't be serious right now. How messed up you must be to believe such thing when moments ago you admitted something happened?!"

Miguel's hands went on his hips, grounding himself to avoid invading her personal bubble more than he already was.

Another cloyed sigh from the brunette, "Unlike you, at least she's adult enough to face her problems and give the child for adoption."

A cold shudder came down his spine. Was his hearing right?

"Disculpa, qué?" He had to blink the frown and scowl that immediately took his countenance a hostage, but to no avail. It was another blow Dana gave him on the floor. Merciless as she was, she'd give him no truce.

"Adoption. A-D-O-P-T-"

"Fucking funny. The fuck you mean adoption?"

"I'm not here to amuse you."

And in truth he was far from being entertained. His brain had gone into an flout, ignoring his rationale, doused in glacial water that froze all attempt into logic thinking. Body buzzed with something ghastly, unable to be properly processed as it remained as a knot in his throat.

No. You couldn't.

"She can't be that stupid-"

"She's not stupid. She's assuming the consequences. As you should be!"

His hands no longer remained on him, too perturbed to stay still. They rubbed a bit too hard on his face, a twitch popped in his eye.

"No, she's... she's being fucking stupid. I.. I gave her-"

"A check to get rid of if. Yeah, I know." Dana crossed her arms while seizing his newly disturbed state. Steely nerves were something used to describe him, but this insecure and fearful man before her was everything but composed.

"She can't..." The ramble with himself continued, not really caring if Dana joined or not.

But you were keeping the child. Against his wishes.

How dared you?

His mind tried so hard that a painful pulsation echoed inside his skull. Hurting itself in the process of trying to understand why on earth would you keep a baby while having all the stakes at odds.

"She will. That's not up to you to decide."

"No, no, you don't understand, Dana. She can't have-"

"Well, too bad cause she's keepin-"

In a flurry of anger, his hands slapped the broom away from her grip, with such force she yelped, startled "Cállate!"

He roared and Dana recoiled, wide eyes in terror. It didn't matter how many times he clawed at his scalp, in an hopeless attempt to smear away the news. He heaved, realizing too late his mistake.

"I'm-"

"You need to leave."

His ex's voice was too calm, too kind, despite his aggression. It no longer held that bickering and holding a grudge like usual. It was devoid of all emotion, denying him the satisfaction of baiting and engaging into his game.

But he certainly wasn't there for a laugh anymore. Reality was always bitter and disappointing.

Heart jerked, menacing to splinter and rive at any second, fury flowed through his bloodstream, like a drug. Feeding his brain cortex with a much unrequited high of cortisol.

How could you? He gave you the money, yet you decided to do him dirty. Were you taking revenge? Without a doubt, and now you'd bring everything he had worked on so hard for, down and away.

In a place of a much higher shelf he, even with his height, could not reach. Like a timeout for his grown ass self.

But he wouldn't allow you. He refused to have his own story play on repeat once again.

He was set into finish this once and for all.

His anxiety had taken his nerves for an unwilling ride. Not only he had to wait for an extra hour for you to clock out, but he also had to face you once more.

Miguel was convinced that you had influenced his mind in such a way he was starting to believe you were his bad luck charm.

You were there in his revenge. You were there when Dana dumped him. He saw your sweet and fury-inducing face when the higher and richer bunch dejected his proposal in a subtle way it had given him hope. And somehow you still managed to get into Dana's head and root for you, when the woman usually remained on a neutral line or rather to not get involved at all, even if it somehow affected her personally.

You had tipped the balance completely on your favor. And now, the rotten cherry of his Frankenstein of cake, was knowing you were to take the pregnancy to a full term, when he had specifically told you to get rid of it.

His million dollar brain couldn't come up with a logical and quantifiable explanation as to why.

Why? Why? Why? So. many why's and little responses.

She wants to screw me over.

A malicious frown came to his lip, twitching ever slightly, temper already boiling underneath.

He wouldn't let you. Not when his career was taking a fly, the rejection was a little mishap, but nothing that he couldn't fix in a future.

He left for his car, ten minutes before the clock ticked at five pm. Your leaving hour. Silent and steadfast steps advanced towards the parking lot. Where everything had started. Where bad luck and unfortunate decisions from the universe begun to hunt him down.

Where his life took such a radical change for the worst. His nose flared upon the realization.

You brought the worst out of him.

Made him act out of his usual composed and calculating self. Forced him to conduct out of his pattern, taking impromptu choices wasn't who he was.

Lashing out when he'd keep his mouth shut. Behaving recklessly when he'd analyze the situation first, deeming it worthy to get involved or not. Saying things out of place when he knew he needed to remain shut, reaching to the points of threatening and mastering the arts of deceiving.

And now, you were forcing a role he didn't want, yet knew he had self imposed it. He knew the condom broke, he knew that he needed to change it.

But damned be his lust and hormones fluctuation, your deliciously sweet scent that somehow was engraved into his memory, the snug and tight cunt that had made his mind a puddle. And your fucking righteousness to accept your consequences that exposed him and his lies.

And once again, a reluctant daddy.

You've turned his life upside down. Everything he had carefully and methodically crafted, was now on the floor, ruined. Tarnished beyond repair. You were chaos.

He had given you the resources to end the problem, yet you spat on his face. Repaid him with aversion. And he was now set in finding out the answers he needed.

He saw your head peeking out from the elevator, going to your little and toy looking car. Pretty doll playing with danger.

Keys dangled, along a daisy shaped keychain in your hands, swaying back and forth at the rhythm of your steps.

The clinking drowned the heavy echoes of his leather covered feet, noticing him a little too late as he slammed your car's door shut, prowling over before you could enter.

"W-What the fuck?!"

Breath hitched, eyes widened in alarm as your skin crawled when meeting his accusing and dern gaze. Brain flaring with the dangers alarm, panic simmering on the slow burner.

You nearly stumbled while backing up as he stalked you.

"What's wrong with you?!" Your eyes closed as he yelled. Angry breath fanned on your shaky self.

For a second it wasn't Miguel that yelled, but Mother.

Body reacting with muscle memory by raising your arms up, trying to create more space between you both. Miguel was burning in wrath and it scorched you.

"I fucking gave you the chance to handle this, and you decide to keep it?!"

Hulking frame loomed over, reducing your existence even further as he slammed his closed fist in the hood of your car, startling you even more. He was violence.

"Get away from me!" With a brave push, your body made the great effort in pushing him off you. He barely budged, but his nose flared fumes, instead he took your wrists with a single hand and pulled you closer so you could properly have a piece of his mind.

"You don't understand, don't you?" You wriggled your hands and he bared his teeth, nearly colliding your foreheads together.

"You think I'm scared of you?!" But in truth, you were terrified beyond your wits. Heart wasn't beating, but pounding painfully the more you struggled.

"I don't want that child" He seethed through clenched teeth

"Let me go!"

"No te voy a permitir que me arruines la vida" (I won't allow you to ruin my life)

"I swear if you don't let me go, I'll scream!."

His grip loosened enough for you to wriggle your limbs away from his reach but he quickly clutched on you again, ignoring the the measly threat, desperate to find the answers you were reluctant to give him "Why are you keeping it?" He shook your body, "Why?!"

He panted in his frenzied state, and you whimpered at his manhandling. But the familiarity of violence in your life didn't break you instantly. Just made you irrational if anything.

"That's none of your business."

His chest puffed up, hand on your car's hood. He wasn't letting you go that easily. His gaze asserted dominance while stalking your own, moving his head along yours when you finally managed to free yourself from his grasp.

"Where is the check?"

"I tore it" His muscles tensed, nails digging in the fat of his hand, holding back a biting comeback, "Now get away from me."

Miguel heaved. Ire and frustration fighting over who gave the last punch. You were driving him insane, and not in the way he indulged.

"You must be the dumbest person I've known. All you had to do was to go to a fucking clinic and get yourself fixed! Why didn't you listen?!"

"Oh, fuck off!" This time the effort in your body as you pushed the wall of muscles was greater. A little light-headedness swooned over your sight. His eyes narrowed upon you exhaling through your mouth, repeatedly. Setting a pace while holding your lower back.

Physical exertion had you panting, but the emotional toll he had just put you through drained you completely. Like a vampire feeding off your sanity.

"You're sadly mistaken if you think I'll help with-"

"I'm not fucking asking you to. I've never asked and never fucking will!"

It was your time to roar while tears menaced to escape and roll down, "What makes you think I want anything that comes from you so you can throw it at my face later?"

Voice broke with a new found bravado that seeped through your panicked cracks, sick of him intimidating you, but your fight enticed him. He loved the sense of control he inflicted, it fuelled him and stroked his ego in such pleasant ways that had him folding.

"If you wanna play mommy, fine by me, but don't you dare saying I didn't try to help."

"Your fucking help was to hide your mistake before Dana found out" You gritted through teeth and he smirked, taunting even further

"You're not ready to be a mother-"

"Oh and you think you'd be a good father? You know shit about it." Vitriol dripped with every mouthful of your mind.

The two were too focused in marring each other as much as you could with words while struggling to keep afloat. He was drowning you, but you pulled him down. If you sunk, he was coming down too.

"That's precisely what I paid you for, pinche pendeja!" (Dumb bitch)

His tinge was everything but polite or caring. It didn't help that your head spun, you had to take a moment to scramble away to retch out behind a car. Slumping against the metallic structure for support.

His face squeezed into a disgusted expression at the noises you did. Concern and empathy wasn't in his vocabulary neither in his life. He just stood there, watching your hands curl as your body begged you to stop munching on his bait.

"Fuck off." you mumbled while wiping your lips with the back of your palm once the nausea subsided enough.

"What did you say?" His head tilted, vexed and amused you still had the energy to keep the bonfire alive and soaring. Just the way he liked. He was ready for round two.

"Fuck. Off."

It was the last thing you threw before scrambling to your car and locked the door. His bold hand already on the handle, doing his damnedest to pry it open. Hands banging on the now shaky glass, demanding for you to come out.

You drove away as he yelled something foreign.

The ambush had left you shaken to your very core, and just when you stopped on a red light, you finally noticed your trembling limbs, clenching on the steering wheel, anchoring to it.

Stop it stop it stop it-

Heart subdued into a claustrophobic beat within your ribcage, head spun, palpitations turned into powerful plows on your torso. Breath hitched, erratic, panicky.

No, no, no!

All you could see and hear was mommy dearest yelling, brain already sending the defense signals to your childish arms. Covering from the imminent physical lash out she'd provide after you accidentally dropped your drink in the floor.

What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Many things if honest. Eyes bleary with fat tears, panic rose the more your brain forced you to remember . Fresh belt marks burned into your arms and legs.

Nausea went rampant, but with the little strength you had, fingers moved to dial MJ's phone number between muffled sobs.

Chest rose and fell, into a frenzied breathing pattern, the unceasing honkings from the cars behind you drowned your terrified weeps. It didn't help your terrified state.

The distant voice of MJ kept ringing in your ears, imploring for you to reply, Your abdomen cramped, and your mouth screamed. Brain loaded with so much information, it was impossible to process properly.

The ringing in your ears sharpened, phone too heavy on your hands, lights came and go, dancing in such a hurried haze, forcing to clutch your chest.

A dark shadow hovered over the car's window, moving it's limbs frantically, lips moved but you couldn't hear a thing.

Mind too dazed with the past to be on the now. More shadows joined narrowing the space for light and reason, panic broke hell loose.

Throat burned at the shrill it gave out. Nails sunk on your skin. You had tried, but the shadows were stronger. And they engulfed you.

Sweetie

The muddled thoughts thrown together in a tiny space that begged for order.

Your name was called, lights danced before your eyes, following your irises movement, lids immediately covered them, a whine joined the messed up party.

"Hey, Babe."

You knew that voice. The Nyquil for your pained soul and berated brain. Soft fingers cupped your cheeks, gently turning your face upwards.

"It's me, MJ"

Touch toured to your hands, enveloping your limb in a warm embrace. Lungs exhaled a way too relaxed breath. Almost paused.

The milieu before you slowly took shape. Abstract lines and forms melding together into a red spot. It's angelic voice lured your liquified brain back to a solid mass, earning a lucid moment of thinking.

MJ. It was MJ.

"There you are" Her smile too tainted with sadness to pass as one of her genuine ones.

Your body buzzed with waves of something you couldn't pinpoint, but it felt good. Heavenly almost.

Your eyes blinked lazily, one after another, even your breathings were sluggish. Hand twitched, regaining the lost movement.

Body felt like a feather, weightless, suspended in air, floating, dreaming of silly things that definitely put an imperceptible smile in your lips. Too good to a washed up and spent you.

But the doctor's nasal voice brought you back within a few blinks. The chest hurt and itched, the urge to rub the pained area turned overwhelming, and that's when your senses came into clarity.

Finally able to discern between the abstract and intangibility from your secluded surroundings. White ceiling and walls, indistinct voices playing in the background.

Machines beeped, monitoring your heart, and so many other things you couldn't swot on even if you tried to. The stench of chemicals and sterile air permeated your tired lungs.

Phones rang unceasingly somewhere in the ostracised cubicle, fenced with a plastic curtain that separated you from the rest. Concealing your panic from prying stares. Mouth could be mistaken for the Sahara desert due the arid weather inside your crevice, swallowing was painful.

But not as painful at the look in Mary Jane gorgeous eyes.

"Hey"

She whispered as her hand squeezed tight enough for you to know she was there. That hwr presence wasn't a dream. A tired and meek hum rumbled in your throat, acknowledging her.

"Welcome back."

Her warm fingers left you for a moment, skin already missing her comfort, as yours lacked temperature, and even so in a clumsy attempt to raise your hand, you realized a bit too late that, your wrist were restrained on each side of the automated bed.

MJ disappeared for a moment to bring you a tall glass of water. She pressed a button and the bed's frame instantly bent smoothly to rise your torso upwards, transitioning your body into a lax sitting position.

Leaden legs by instinct spreaded a bit more at the uncomfortable pressure on your lower belly.

"Here." MJ brought the glass to your lips and poured gently the vital liquid, quenching slowly but surely the thirst you were oppressed into.

An elder man with salt and pepper hair entered your cubicle with a clipboard in hands, examining your state with a brief quizzical and medical stare.

"Hello! Sorry you wake up like that, but we had to sedate you. You were hurting yourself. "

It now explained the delicious high you didn't want to leave from.

"The baby is fine."

The baby. The creature you grew inside the now polluted guts, suffered no damage. But you had received all the aftermath. And something you had truly forgotten about.

People had left their cars, to certainly give you a piece of mind, but their approach changed drastically upon watching you crying, screaming and fainting. In that order.

Someone had called an ambulance as MJ bolted to your location. By the time the ambulance came, you were quanked and unconscious to recall anything.

MJ sat next to you as Mayday laid in her arms, tired, rosy mouth ajar, safe. Like she should. Like any child should.

None of you dared to speak, she knew you'd reach out when needed. And what you required was rest.

"It's alright, I'm right here."

The doctor called you by your name softly, explaining.

"Is there anyone in your family with mental illnesses?"

"My..." throat rasped, weak and broken words came out. You tried again after clearing the windpipe with a cough.

"My mother. All I know is that she had this Post-partum, uh... Psy..."

Eyes squinted, trying to remember the name.

"Post-partum Psychosis?"

"That thing."

A vehement nod from you.

"This gets a bit trickier then. You see. Right off the start, and I apologize for the sudden news. This will be a complicated pregnancy."

Shit...

MJ's face sobered, but her hand gripping yours never faltered.

"Complicated as in delivery or..." MJ inquired.

"The size of the baby, and the environmental stress only adds more weight to this. You're near the twelve weeks, and even so, passing them doesn't guarantee your baby's safety."

Your eyes squinted, confused. "Meaning?"

"The first trimester of the pregnancy is the most difficult and dangerous. Miscarriage is a higher risk."

You swallowed, hard. Free fingers crumpled the sheets underneath them.

"And I don't know what happened before you were brought here, but it was severe enough to trigger a panic attack. We had to sedate you for a bit so we could run some tests."

"Is she able to leave soon?"

"Until tomorrow. We have to monitor you and the baby responses to meds."

Fuck me.

"Meds?" The word familiar enough to recall those forbidden remembrances you always tried hard to bury for good.

"Zoloft. We still debating on it. It's safe, so don't worry. How often does these attacks happen?" routine questions really.

"It was the first one in months. The first while pregnant actually."

The doctor scribbled in the clipboard while nodding to then release your sore wrist from their confinements. A little bruising forming in them in the shape of fingers.

"Still it's an extra precaution we need to take. And some vitamins and minerals you need. Some of your readings came low, so to minimize the risk of miscarriage, I suggest you to seek a less stress inducing environment."

"I see."

In truth, you stopped paying attention after the last bit.

How and when on earth you'd find a new job in such short amount of time? Were the meds expensive?, Did your insurance even covered them or this barbed joke your body pulled out flawlessly?

Hospital night stays weren't cheap, and dread only slithered towards your head, constricting your brain in a myriad of questions that fought to be wondered first.

But one thing was certain. You needed rest and a new job. Since raise was out of the question. The doctor left, and you felt Mary Jane's burning oggling on your weakened frame.

"What happened?"

A simple yet complicated question. Reluctance once again showed up in your lips, sealing them momentarily.

"I need to know what's going on to help you"

"MJ..."

"I'm worried about you."

"I know..." Head hung, defeated, "I'm so sorry for being a burden, you were probably busy and-"

Your best friend chided your name, like she'd scold her own child.

"Darling, We've know each other for what? Five? Six years now?"

"Six when I pass the first trimester"

She chuckled, "Almost six years knowing our deepest secrets and you believe you're a burden for me. Don't be ridiculous."

Her soft hand squeezed yours tighter.

"You'd never be a burden for me, alright? I just wanna know what happened."

Her ever honest and see-through peer revealed nothing but unalloyed concern and care.

"Miguel happened." You heaved.

Her honeyed and caring look instantly hardened at the name.

"What did he do?"

"He found out somehow that I'd give the baby for adoption. And he didn't like it. Ambushed me in the parking lot and-"

"I need you to stop right there, dear. cause if you keep talking I'll call Alchemax myself and will report him for harassment."

"It wouldn't matter. He's like a god in there."

"And still, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. And that man, is going down for sure."

It surprised you to see such viciousness in MJ's usual demure demeanor. Even though your only wish was to be left alone, deep down you hoped that Miguel reaped what he had sown.

And to your luck, universe was listening your heart's whims for once.

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#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara angst #miguel angst #miguel x you #Of Flowers and Hummingbirds

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