#you can’t rightly come through the phone and sit in bed with me

[floral-hex]

It’s almost 6 in the morning. Can’t sleep. Admittedly lonely. So I’ll type a little text post to feel like I’m actually “doing” something.

Doubled my vilazadone. Started buspirone. I’ve been on a diuretic for my ears (it’s complicated) for about a week now, but whether it’s coincidental or not, my hearing has been pretty great since I started. But hearing comes and goes, so we’ll see if this holds in the coming weeks. My body is having trouble adjusting to all of these new meds, but I think it’s starting to rebalance itself. Chemicals, man…

Okay, I really don’t know what else to say here. Just bored on a Saturday night… well, now Sunday morning. Might go eat some captain crunch. I just started the buspirone and I think it’s maybe making me.. eeeeee 😬😬😬😬… you get it? Not anxious, just on edge. They said take before bed to get used to it, but maybe they meant “hey, take as you’re falling asleep, because if you’re awake when it kicks in, you will stay awake.” Or maybe it’s just normal loneliness and anxiety keeping me up. Who knows. This seems like a downer post, yeah? Sorry. It’ll be positive, ya. I’ll go make some cereal, watch some tv, you all can do whatever you’re doing this morning. There are some birds chirping outside, I’ll see if my cats are awake, it’ll be nice.

[nnightskiess]

𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐝

₊° 𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐠𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 (𝐲/𝐧), 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬. 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐢𝐜, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥...

𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐱

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

for my great friend lux @redhairedwolfwitch ♡ thank you for everything.

"Hey, you paged us?"

Cristina tilted her head, curious, while you stood behind her, wondering if you were in trouble if the Chief needed you.

"I know you're both most interested in cardio, so..." He motioned the two of you two follow him until your pager went off.

"Shit," You mumbled under your breath, staying slightly behind as you heard Cristina gush about the cardiac trauma Hunt showed her, "I gotta run, Robbins needs me, a complication in the NICU."

"Come on?! Cardiac trauma!" Cristina turned to you, the look on her face saying enough. But you had already started to walk away, putting a spanner in the works of the plan the universe had in store for you.

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"Doctor Bailey!" You rushed after her, wanting to catch up with her and show her the results of the CT she needed, until Cristina appeared out of nowhere, seeming frustrated.

"The new attending doesn't even know how to put in a temporary pacemaker!"

They came to a halt at the nurse's station as you hovered next to Cristina, waiting your turn.

You tilted your head, "Wait- we have a new attending?"

"Did you or did you not ask this man for a new cardio attending?"

"Yes."

"And did he or did he not bring in attending after attending, none of them who seem to please you and all of whom you ran off?" Bailey gave Cristina a look, one that made you have to bite your lip so you wouldn't laugh. Doctor Bailey had her cornered, and rightly so.

"That is not a fair assessment." Cristina bluntly replied.

"Doctor Yang, has it ever occurred to you that you might be the problem? Right, leave this man alone. Go torture the new attending. (Y/S/N), you got the results?"

You passed the results over, leaving as soon as Bailey waved you off, so you could go on your way to pester Cristina.

"So... why is the new cardio attending not to your liking this time?" Cristina rolled her eyes and groaned as she heard the teasing in your voice. You followed her, ignoring the annoyed look on her face, "Let me guess... weird hairdo that keeps distracting you? Bad breath? Silly walk? Or are they just not at your level?" You air quoted, making Cristina stop to stare at you before she continued her walk, but you knew she would talk after that.

"She might have been it once, but oh no, not anymore. She made me put in a temporary transvenous pacemaker because she hadn't done it in ages."

You grimace, having to admit how bad it sounded that a cardio attending didn't know how to., "At least she admitted it?"

Your comment went completely over Cristina's head, who was still fed up with the situation, "She's inexperienced, inadequate and is definitely not a cardio goddess. She's a desert storm barbie, who hasn't seen the inside of an OR in like 10 years. Owen was wrong to bring her here."

"Well... you've used up your three wishes and Webber and Bailey are done with your complaints... so I think you're gonna be stuck with her."

Cristina let her head fall back and let out the biggest groan before turning into another hallway, leaving you to shake your head as you walked to the lifts.

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"So, what do you think of the new cardio attending? Excited to learn from her?" Arizona draped her stethoscope around her neck, following you out of the room.

"I can't say, haven't met her yet... but Cristina seems to be really happy with her."

Arizona raised an eyebrow before she saw the look on your face.

"Oh, yeah, I heard. Wait-" Arizona looked at her pager, "Hm... speaking of the devil, Yang paged me. Walk with me?" She squeezed your arm, hoping you'd follow her.

You briefly caught up with your friend as you walked through the hospital. Jackson and Cristina were standing around a hospital bed, but before the two of you could approach, Arizona's pager went off once more,

"Hm... can you inform the parents of one of our preemie babies of his vitals? They're going home and would like to hear everything's still alright before they leave. Check his vitals with them in the room or they're not going to want to leave. They're persistent, but they're good parents. " Arizona gave you a soft smile as you nodded and grinned, doing as she told, not seeing the other blonde approaching Arizona behind you as you walked away.

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You were leaning against the wall, waiting for Arizona to finish up since she was your ride home, when a happy Cristina all but skidded out of the resident's lounge.

"You're being weird. What's gotten you so happy?" You noted as Cristina's frown from that morning had turned into a wide grin.

"Guess who did a Takeuchi repair today?"

"You did not!?" You gasped and stood up straight, your full attention now on Cristina.

"Uh, not all by myself. But she did let me do the coronary artery anastomosis."

You raised your eyebrows, still surprised. Cristina was a great resident, but that was a big shot surgery, even for her. "Damn, are you taking back your words about her now?"

"Yeah, probably. Which means-" She turned serious again, pointing a finger at you, "The games have begun." She let out another ecstatic laugh before walking off, letting you know you would have to step up and fight to get hours on cardio with the new attending.

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You walked into the lifts the next morning, the coffee Arizona had gotten you in one hand, the charts of the nightshift in the other. You only had five minutes to read them all and then inform your attending of the day of any changes. But with the coffee in your system, you knew you could do this.

You skimmed the first few pages of one of the charts as other people hurried into the lift right as the doors closed. A few floors later, you knew it was your turn to step out when the doors opened. Not wanting to waste any time, you kept your head low to read the charts, but you had to look up and stop when someone crossed your path- quite literally.

A woman hurried by, apologising to people left and right as she rushed through them. Though she had been fast, you had not failed to catch a glimpse of the face that you once so adored.

Teddy Altman.

She hadn't seen you, probably because your nose had been buried in the charts, or because she had been in a rush. You watched her disappear through the double doors towards the OR's and that's when it clicked. Teddy, your old friend from back in New York, the same Teddy that was in love with cardio, was the new cardio attending Cristina suddenly seemed to be gushing about.

You ditched your coffee somewhere, your body suddenly being filled with nerves and stress. It had been years seen you'd seen her. Ever since your mutual friend Allison had passed away on that damned day, you had lost contact with Teddy. Almost as if she had disappeared. Just like that. No note, no phone call, no goodbye. Maybe it had been for the best. The abrupt ending to your friendship had helped you get rid of the wish that it would ever become something more. Teddy was gone, and so were the feelings you had secretly been harbouring inside. But seeing her now... It overwhelmed you how only a glimpse of her could bring back the crapload of memories the two of you had shared. You slipped into one of the vacant seats in the waiting room, clutching the charts against your chest.

"No sitting, (Y/S/N), you've only just started your day. Let's go! We've got jobs to do. Chop-chop!" Bailey walked by, gesturing for you to get up and go.

You stood up, took the deepest breath and made a promise to yourself-

It's been years. You changed. You were no longer the EMT Teddy used to know. You took great pride in the fact you had grown, as a person and as a doctor. You were a resident now. Besides, for all you knew, Teddy didn't want anything to do with you anymore. She must have changed too. Besides, who knows what happened to her after you lost each other.

Teddy might be back, but your feelings were long gone.

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You walked into the cafeteria, talking with some of the Mercy West residents as you grabbed your lunch, placing it on the tray in front of you. You rolled your eyes as they started to gossip, happy you had your food so you could walk away from that. Shaking your head, you turned around to scan the cafeteria, your eyes landing on Arizona's, who waved you over. You froze in your spot as you saw the back of Teddy's head, who was seated at the same table. Without thinking, you turned around and left the cafeteria in a hurry, the tray still in your hands. You hoped you had been fast enough before Teddy could have seen who Arizona had waved to.

Facing Teddy was not on your to-do list any time soon.

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You had successfully managed to avoid running into your old friend all day, rather doing scut or helping out in the clinic than scrubbing in or helping with consults. Anything to stay out of Teddy's way.

"So, will you tell me why you ran like a chicken earlier today?" Arizona wore a playful smile as she from the doorway how you were grabbing your things.

"Um-" You shuffled some things around in your locker, trying to stall coming up with an answer. Arizona was one of your best friends and already knew whatever you would say would be a complete lie, "Stomach ache. Needed a toilet."

Arizona nodded her head, her playful grin not disappearing, "Yeah... I usually like my lunch with some nice sound effects and extra stench too."

"Wha-," You stopped to turn around, "I did not eat my lunch in a toilet."

Arizona shrugged noncommittally, going to the next topic, "Had fun removing haemorrhoids at the clinic today?"

You sighed defeatedly and pushed your jacket in your bag, glaring at Arizona, who was having way too much fun with this.

"Fine. I ate lunch in a toilet cubicle and helped out at the clinic today. What's wrong with that? They need all the help they can get."

"Meanwhile you could've scrubbed in with Doctor Altman and I. She let Yang fix the kid's Alcapa. Could've been you." She shrugged.

She patted your back as you passed her out of the lounge, letting out a groan at the missed opportunity. You clung your bag over your shoulder, greeting colleagues left and right, trying to play it off, but knowing Arizona was following close behind.

"Nice try," Arizona whispered in your ear as you waited for the lifts to arrive.

You sighed and turned around, about to shoot back a witty reply to wash the grin away from your friend's face, until you saw Teddy round the corner into the hallway, coming your way while she talked to an intern. The lifts dinged behind you, but you quickly pulled Arizona away, pushing her into the door that led to the staircases.

"Okay- wait, what just happened?" Arizona let out a breathy chuckle, her eyebrows raised as she tried to decipher what was going on in your head.

"We're taking the stairs down today! Let's go, I haven't reached my 10k steps yet!" You were already walking down, leaving Arizona to look back, thinking she might have missed something, until she eventually followed.

"Okay, tell me what's going on because you've been incredibly weird, all day long." Arizona stopped you when you were about to walk out of the hospital. You looked her in the eyes, seeing the genuine concern.

"Doctor Robbins!" You shut your eyes at the familiar voice and quickly turned around, slipping into the gift store unnoticed, still in hearing distance,

"I wanted to give you this for the follow-up surgery but you left so quickly." Teddy smiled softly, watching how Arizona looked around, noticing you had dipped, "Just read through it at home and we can discuss tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah! Sure! Thanks." Arizona's eyes fell on the back of your head as you tried to distract yourself by looking at the many different postcards of Seattle.

Teddy furrowed her eyebrows slightly, "Um... okay, well, we'll talk tomorrow."

"Sure thing!"

You waited until Teddy had disappeared into the lift again before stepping out from behind the rack, Arizona immediately pulling you out of the gift shop, her mouth agape as she watched with excitement, "You are crushing on Doctor Altman!"

"What? No!"

"What else can it be? That's why you've been avoiding every place she's at like the plague. I knew you would like her, but I didn't know you would like her this much." She raised her eyebrows suggestively, the grin on her face only widening as you sighed and walked out of the hospital.

"I'm not crushing on her. I haven't even met her yet. I'm just... shy... to meet new people. I need more time."

Arizona snorted as she followed you to her car, "Yeah, sure, that's it." But she grew serious when she saw the conflict in your eyes, "You know you can tell me, right? Anything. I don't judge."

You turned in your seat, it was clear you were battling thoughts in your head. You let yourself fall back against the seat as you sighed,

"I don't want Teddy to see me. Not yet, at least."

Arizona rose an eyebrow, silently telling you she needed more information if you wanted her to understand.

"We knew each other. Back in New York."

Arizona nodded slowly, knowing about your life as an EMT in the Big Apple, "Did you fall out? Did you fight? What happened?"

"That's the thing- I don't know. One day we were friends, the next... she was gone? This is the first time I've seen her since 2001 and... I don't know, it threw me off. I don't know what to do or say now."

"She hasn't seen you yet?"

You shrugged, "No, I don't think so. Not that I know."

"Well, were you great friends before she left?"

"You could say that. I just-" You stopped yourself, sneaking a glance at Arizona, who looked back at you with an encouraging smile, "Oh God- okay... I just always feared I might have scared her away?"

Arizona pursed her lips before hearing what you rambled out next, "I had like, the biggest crush on her and for a while, I thought she had one on me too until I realised she was like that with our mutual friend Allison too and-"

"Doctor Altman likes girls?!" Arizona gasped, intrigue written on her face. You quickly shut her down, not wanting to start the spread of another rumour in the hospital,

"No?! I don't know! I don't think so. No."

You sat in silence for a while until Arizona opened her mouth, "Well, I think it would be best if you just rip the band-aid off tomorrow. I don't think she'd appreciate finding out you avoided her for as long as you could. It's probably going to be awkward either way."

You nodded softly, knowing Arizona was right, "Will you help me?"

"Pfff, of course! I got your back." She smiled at you as she drove out of the car park.

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You kept yourself busy by alternating between buttoning and unbuttoning your lab coat and fixing your hair, wanting to look presentable since Teddy hadn't seen you in years. It was silly, how you hadn't been able to let go of the nervous habits you had whenever you'd be around her. But the worry Teddy would be disappointed to see you again made it worse this time.

"Stop that, you look great." Arizona smiled encouragingly and fixed your collar as you started to play with your fingers instead, needing something to try and keep your nerves under control.

"Ready?" She asked you as she stopped in front of the room Teddy had paged her to. You gave her a curt nod and took in a breath as she opened the door, revealing Teddy who was looking at the whiteboard in front of her.

"Doctor Altman, I brought a resident who's gonna help me with this case. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all! I went ahead and-" She stopped midsentence when she turned around, her eyes locking with yours. Sure, you had changed over the years, but you knew Teddy would recognize you in an instant.

"(Y/N)?" She breathed out, her face going from confusion to shock to excitement in just a few seconds.

"Oh my God, it's really you?" She walked up to you, her arms open to welcome you in a hug. Teddy let out an awkward chuckle as she noticed you didn't move a muscle, but she slowly and unsurely wrapped her arms around you when you took a hesitant step forward.

"It's so good to see you again! How- I- What?!" She smiled and rubbed her cheeks, trying to wrap her head around the fact you were standing in front of her, and trying to stop herself from panicking. "You left New York? When? You're a resident now!?"

"It's been years, a lot can happen." You squeezed your fingers behind your back, realising how harsh it sounded, no matter how much she deserved the cold shoulder. You just wanted to get this over with.

Teddy's smile faltered, but only momentarily, before her eyes filled with glee again, "So- what's happening? What's new? How did you get here? Are you.... third year? Or-"

"I love this little reunion but maybe it's best we focus on the surgery now...We've got little time." Arizona butted in with an apologetic smile, seeing you needed a breather.

"Yes! Of course, apologies." Teddy turned back to you, her face unreadable, but her gut wrenched with the guilt she suddenly felt. Your eyes said it all.

"We...um, should catch up later." She spoke before she quickly turned to face the whiteboard again, muttering something under her breath, hoping to be able to mask her panic in the next few hours of you two working together.

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"Go!" Arizona mumbled out, bumping your hip when you stopped, seeing she was gesturing to Teddy waiting in line. "Go break the ice!"

"I thought I already did that this morning?!" You whisper-yelled back but was pushed forward by your friend.

"Oh- hi!" You shot her a wry smile, albeit awkwardly, as Teddy turned around. "Want to...um... eat lunch outside with me? Catch up? It snowed last night and uh, I know you used to love-"

But you stopped as you saw Teddy nod and smile, "I'd like that."

"So, Seattle, huh?" Teddy started once you had found a vacant bench outside the hospital. "I thought you said you could never see yourself leaving New York?"

"Yeah, well, I got the opportunity to do my residency here... I wanted to start fresh, and New York isn't what it's been after-" You stopped, noticing how Teddy tensed. She took her time eating her sandwich, stalling an answer before she eventually had to speak.

"It's good to see you ended up where you wanted to be. Seems like all those times I helped you study for med school weren't in vain." She smiled with her eyes as she took another quick bite of her lunch. She tried so hard to read your energy, but you seemed closed off.

"Don't get me wrong, I loved being an EMT, but this is good. This is great. I'm happy now. This is the right path for me."

Teddy gave you a soft smile as she truly took you in for the first time, daring to stare at your side profile now that you were focused on your own lunch. You wore your hair differently now, your face looked a bit more mature and you also seemed more reserved, but maybe that just had to do with the awkward tension still floating between you two. Your eyes though, still gave her the same comfort, even if she had lost the ability to read them, apparently.

"What's it going to be? You got your eyes set on a specialty already?"

You nodded while taking a sip of your drink, "Cardio or peds... though I sometimes like to dabble in neuro."

Teddy let out a breathy chuckle, "Ha! Knew it! I recognized the light in your eyes every time I helped you study cardio cases."

"Well, you made it fun. It was hard not to like it by the way you explained it. You seemed passionate about it so of course, I would try to feel the same way."

She nodded to herself, the corner of her lip curling up slightly before she changed the subject, "Where were you on Monday? Doctor Robbins and I did an alcapa surgery together, you would have loved that. Would have been the perfect match for you."

"Oh, um, I don't know, I think I was helping in the pit all day? It was a busy day." Deciding to change the subject once more, you opened your mouth again, "Where did you end up? You left but never said anything, I was worried for weeks until I eventually had to let it go."

Teddy stopped and put her lunch down, "I joined the army..." she watched closely as you raised your eyebrows in surprise, "Almost immediately after... That's were I met Hunt and that's how I got here."

You nodded softly, trying to put it all into place in your head. She obviously gave you the short explanation, as she had left out years of details. But you figured she did so for a reason, and you respected her decision.

"Wasn't I worth a goodbye though?" You chuckled dryly, half joking, half serious.

"God- no, I mean yes! Of course! You deserved an explanation, that's on me, I just... had to go. I couldn't breathe. I hadn't been in a right state of mind for a while, especially after my parents passed away... and then Allison..."

You put your hand on her leg, "Teddy, it's alright, you don't have to explain further. Sorry... I just- All I actually needed to know was if you were still alive. I was dying inside not knowing if you were alright-" You bit the insides of your cheek as Teddy's hand was placed over yours. She sighed and looked out in front of her, her fingers tangling with yours as she squeezed your hand.

"I am so sorry. You deserved a proper farewell."

You nodded, agreeing, but decided to stay silent, sensing that Teddy already knew how bad she had messed up.

"So um, are you staying here? This is not a temporary thing?"

She squeezed your hand again, just to reassure you, even if she felt tortured by all the lost memories and feelings resurfacing,

"Yeah, I plan on staying." She cleared her throat, "Which is why I'm glad we worked this out right now? I mean, we're good, right?"

Thoughts circled through your head while you felt your chest tighten. Having to be around Teddy again would be a challenge, especially seeing how you left things. But you could manage. You were a surgical resident, for heaven's sake, and you were not going to let an old friend from the past ruin anything.

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[bts-trash-blog]

Best Of Us

Chapter 7: Risk

Summary: Being an Omega is hard, it could be so lonely. The hardships that you would sometimes feel seemed to much, always expected of things you could never fully reach. Always seen as a piece of meat to some, seen as weak and stupid. So you worked your ass off to finally work your dream job. And the world all changed when you met one of the bosses. And couldn't help but end up falling.

Paring: Rap Line X Fem!Chubby OmegaReader

Warning: A/O/B!VERS, mentions of sexual harassment, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, angst, possessive behavior, more warnings will be added as needed.

Chapter edited

PREV._.NEXT 

The feeling of warmth spread across your cheek, it had your eyes blinking open bright sharp almost cat like, brown eyes staring back at you.The soft beeping of your phone had you whining as the person in front of you, Bambam lets out a chuckle as you slowly move from the pile of blankets you were under. The smell, the sticky sweet smell of the two of you sticking to you like glue, your hand reaches over to your phone. Seeing a light up message, from Jin saying you didn’t have to come in for the meetings after all, and then an email from Yoongi.Eye tightly shutting, reading for the Sorry but we’ve decided to let you go.. Email especially after what you had said right before you left. You wouldn’t be surprised at all for the termination.

Y/n,

Due to the events that occurred last night I am giving you the rest of the week off, though you will still need to do work from your laptop or the tablet we have given you. My single request is that you give me your address so I can send you physical copies of paperwork through Jin.

I would also like to invite you to an outing with Hoseok, Namjoon and myself, and talk through what has happened. I do not want you to feel pressured into anything so for the next week at five my mates and I will be at the cafe across the street from our building we will stay until eight each day.

I would also like to apologize for using my Alpha authority over you. I am never one to do that unless necessary and in that situation it was clearly not, I feel horrible about it but I do know that no apology will ever heal that wound. Only actions. And from this day on I will try to prove to you that I am not like that, I am not that type of Alpha. I am an Alpha your father will approve of. Hoseok is an Alpha your father will approve of. We are a pack your father will approve of, and even if he doesn't right away we will show him and your mother time and time again that we are worthy of your love. That our love is enough for their little girl, if you will have it of course. And if you don't want it, then we will let you go. Y/n this is up to you, and you alone. Just know how sorry I am that I even used that tone on you. I will never do it again.

Sincerely,

Min Yoongi

You felt your hand shake as you dropped your phone in shock onto your lap as you let out a whine, Bambam letting out his own as his nose nudged under your jaw as his arms wrapped their way around your waist. Your hands fall onto his arms as you feel his nose nudge against your scent gland, making your curl into him as he lays you down back into the nest. The pillows stacked along the wall and the ends of the bed moved slightly. The scent of the two of you mixing as you nose nudged against his scent gland. Purrs passing your guys lips as you sniffle, your fingers gripping at his bare shoulders, his skin warm under the palm of your hands. His nose rubbing against your skin trying to calm you down as you took deep breaths of his oranges and cream smell had your calming as you took a deep breath pulling from him.

“What up Y/n?”

“Just read.” He nods, taking your phone as you kneaded the bed below you, trying to see if you could make it softer, more welcoming. Hearing him sigh, you look to see the boy's eyes lingering at you as he gives you a tight lipped smile. “What do I do?”

“What do you want to do?” Your body froze as you sat in the middle of your bed, Bambam moving to rest his leg in your lap as your hands fell onto his thigh. Your fingers rubbing into the muscle uncousionaly as you take a deep breath.

“I don’t know.” Your voice was shaky as Bambam typed on your phone and handed it back, seeing he had emailed Yoongi back.

Mr.Min,

My address is (I really don't know what to name this) apartment 3a, and to give you an honest answer to the rest is a simple I don’t know.

Sincerely,

Y/LN Y/n

“That easy huh?” You wonder making him smile and nod as he sat up and grabbed his phone, a frown falling on his face making you move wrap your arm around his leg resting your cheek on his knees. “What wrong Bam?”

“Jackson hasn’t messaged me at all..I..I miss him.” His pout dropped to a full grown as you watched his lip quiver, his eyes building with tears as you moved to nuzzle yourself on top of him, his arms wrapping around your back as he let out a whimper. “It's like he doesn’t want me anymore. I know I'm not a conventual omega, you know? I'm tall and lanky and I’m a stubborn brat, but he said he was okay with all of that. He said he liked my body, and he was okay that I’m taller than him and that I’m not afraid to speak my mind..but what if he’s not. What if he found a shorter, curvier omega? Someone more obitident and he just doesn't know how to tell me.” His words had you moving closer, knowing he had no concern about your weight completely on him, he needed to compression as you nuzzled yourself deeper into his skin.

“Bam..”

“He didn’t even spend my heat with me, he hasn't even gotten me a courting gift.” His voice was full of pain as he held you close, letting a sob pass his lips as you let out a growl. Jackson had chased after your best friend for five month prior to Bambam caving and agreeing to be in a courting relationship with one of the richest families' sons. Their only son.  When the news broke, Bambam had been assigned bodyguards and a driver. Even when he was alone he was never really alone, and the stress of it all he just wanted to cuddle, scent with Jackson. Yet you would wake up to a facetime of a tired looking Bambam wrapped up in Jackson's sheets, alone, your mutual friends Lisa and her mate Jennie growling at the treatment Bambam was going through. Yet Bambam couldn’t seem to grow the courage to end the relationship. The pull to great between the two.

“Break up with him.”

“I can’t, I love him and I feel like its m-”

“Bam, if you leave him and he doesn’t try to fight it then he isn’t worth your fight. If he wants you then he needs to prove it. Also how he treats you, how any Alpha in this world treats you is not your fault. It's their own head being shoved far up their ass that they can’t see the world around them, and how it doesn't revolve around them. Bam. Text him, tell him you think the two of you need the end thing cause clearly he doesn’t have time for a relationship. Then me and you are gonna shove our faces while he freaks out.”

“But that's so curle.” “So is him, your supposed boyfriend and courting Alpha, not even texting you two words when he gets up, or even just letting you sit with him during his lunches in his office in silence. He hands you a scented hoodie for the week then you rarely see him afterwards. It's his turn to see how it feels.”

“I don’t want to lose him.” “Then don’t take my advice, okay? I'm not gonna force you but I'm gonna be here for you, nesting and feeding you.”

“It hurts.”

“I know.” He sighs pulling away from you, grabbing his phone, your eyes peering over watching him write out a text to Jackson. I’m sorry to bother you during work, I know you hate that, but I really think we should break up. You clearly don’t have the time for a courting relationship, and I can’t handle you being so cold to me. Again I'm sorry for bothering you. But I think this is for the best. It was scent with tear filled eyes as your arms stayed wrapped around his neck, the delivery staying, like it was a tattoo on his phone. It had him scoffing as he dropped his phone and turned into your chest.

“I hate Alphas.”

“Me too.”

“Lets mate so no Alpha will ever fuck with us again.” His words had you snorting as he let out a pain filled giggle against your chest as you ran your hand through his hair, his eyes closing rightly as your mother knocked on the door.

“Sorry to bother you, but Y/n don’t you have work sweetheart.” Her tone was sweet as she lingers at the open door, her eyes falling on the still crying Bambam as you gave her a small smile.

“No, I was given the day off.”

“Oh well, breakfast for the two fo you is in the microwave.” Nodding she gives a small wave in goodbye and shuts your door. The ding of a phone had babam tenseing, but he relaxed, though with a deafeed look when he saw his message was still on delivered. While your phone was showing a new message from Jin. Saying what time he was going to arrive to extache paper work with you.

“Food then back to sleep?”

“Yes.”

_____________________________

Waking up to a pounding on your door, had your eyes snapping open, Bam had taken the spot closest to the wall, under a large pile of blankets. A sweater of yours draping over his skin, lips parted eyes still closed dead asleep. Yet the pounding on your front door awoke you. Slowly moving out of bed you see his phone had twenty missed calls, and too many messages for Jackson not wanting the boy in your bed. Taking a deep breath, you walk out of your room and down the hall to your front door unlocking the deadbolt but leaving the chain hooked. As you open the door, there you see a panting Jackson, his eyes pitch black as he looks at you with a pained expression. His alpha scent was sour, thick, the minty freshness of his scent drowned out by his distress. His pain.

“Please.” He whimpers, his head bowing, neck on show as you shut the door slightly undoing the chain lock and opening the door more. His body stays put as he takes a deep breath in, whining as he drops to his knees. “Kunpimook, please.” Turning your head you see a shuffling Bambam, his eyes red puffy as you step back, Jacksons body dropping to a full bow. Forehead touching the ground as you see Bambam tilt his head, looking to you as you nod for him to follow.  His body slowly drops to the ground pushing Jacksons shoulders back making Jackson whine, his eyes looking at the hand that was placed on his shoulder. “Omega mine.” Jackson mumbles, your body slowly moving back, trying to give the two space but also needing to make sure Bambam was safe. You watch Bambam tilt his head  as Jackson mimicked him, his action following the younger as Bambam gave what you assumed was a tight lipped smile as you watch Jacksons shoulders drop. Head falling forward pressing against Bambam chest as Jackson let out a purr.  “Home.”

“He isn’t talking normally.” Bambam whispers to you, looking at you as you giggle as you move slowly as Jackson wraps his arms around Bambam and growles at you making the omegas jaw go slack as you place your hand over your mouth.

“Just go with it, my mom called it the puppy stage.” your words had Bambam nodding as he looks at you with a frown. “Bam if you want him, go with him. “ He gives you a smile as he pulls from Jackson, who whines as he watches Bambam stan following the Omegas movements as he moves and nuzzles his face into Bambams neck.

“I think you should go. Listen to what they have to say.” He mumbles whe Jackson suddenly lifts the boy in his arms making , Bambam sequel as you giggle. Jackson is moving out of your apartment. “My stuff!”

“Home. Omega home.”

“I’ll bring it to you later.” You call out watching men in suits fall in toe behind the pair as you shake your head and shut your apartment door. A deep breath in.

Should you give them a chance? You wondered, moving to your living room couch, fixing the messy bun your hair was in. Eyes blinking slowly as you take a deep breath in, what bad could come from it?

“A lot.” You state out loud shaking your head as you let out a deep sigh, wrapping yourself into your fathers blanket that your mother kept in the living room. His scent was long gone, yet the memories of him wrapped in the blanket had your eyes water as you nuzzled yourself into the grey fabric. How you longed for the day you could speak to him, he’d know what to do.

“Dad you don't get it!” Your voice echoes through the halls of your home, his body trailing after you as you storm your way into your bedroom, his foot stopping your bedroom door slamming. His brown eyes shone as he looked at you. “Alphas don't understand!”

“Then explain it to me kiddo, please. Why aren’t you eating? Why are you changing your wardrobe? Tell me what that has to do with being an Omega.” His words were full of begging. Pleading as you whine leaving your door, gathering the blankets from your bedroom ground, rushing to your bed as you begin to move around the mattress. “Kid, come on I hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m just doing what any Omega would if no Alpha looked at them Dad, that's all. A diet doesn’t hu-”

“You haven’t eaten in over a week, a weak young lady. I don't want to force my hand and use the Alpha tone on you just so you’d actually eat. Baby I hate seeing you like this.” His words softened as he trailed into your room.

“Just go away dad.” He went silent, then you looked up to see he was gone. Rolling your eyes, you start rearranging  the pillows around your bed, when suddenly your dad's scent wraps around you as he enters your nest. Your eyes widening as you growl to he wraps you in his favorite grey blanket. A bowl of rice and chicken in hand as he shakes his head.

“I’ll never go away, but nice try. Now eat something pup.”

You missed those days, the days he showed up in your bedroom food in hand, blanket in the other making sure you ate. Then you felt comfortable enough during your school days to eat.You missed the days, where you fingers would glide along the keys of a piano, his laughter joining as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You missed the look in in your mothers eyes when she looked at him, or how he always found her in a room no matter how big, how crowded. You missed their joint laughter as they teased you on your birthdays, or how much your father loved the two of you. Without him it was quiet walls, and lonely nights. It scared you.

It scared you to even think about letting someone love you the way your father did, letting someone see you the way he saw your mother. It terrified you, cause you saw how quickly people leave, they disappear so quickly without a trace, well that's a lie, the only trace is pain. The empty feeling craves in your chest, the sadness that elopes every memory with them. You never knew that the taste of chicken and rice could make you cry, or the smell of lily flowers mixed with an unforgettable spicy could make your chest hurt. How on random days, your body felt as you were in the car again, the car became so scary to you. You never knew you couldn’t listen to a piano without your body shaking, never could understand why music became so sour for you. You're scared to show them why you flinch away from loud noise, all because the flash of a blaring horn rushes through you. How could you put them through that? Dealing with the night terrors and panic attacks on your bad days. You wish you could. You wish you could love them without the fear of losing them.

But isn’t that the part of it all? The chance of losing it all for just one moment of happiness. So, take the risk or don’t.

Tag list:

@kth-kpoplover @alex4243 @malyxsoulpersonal @purelyecstacy @ryuyalana  @nlost21 @xanny91 @barbyisafangirl @munchyn @lashaysaurusrex  @scentedsope @purpleheartsfortae @btsforlif @barbikatherine @mauranglc @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal  @keepyourdreamsalive @ellethemoon​ @thickemadame  @chimchimooo73 @thickemadame​ @lazykingcomputer @channiespup @yoongitoo @missmoxxiesworld  @4evahevah @schmetterlingsbluetentee @moonchilreneverywhere  @yeojunswhore @shereen1603 @lovelysky15 @tinieretro @mininimmy @caratarmy131

 @milopenne  @fauxthephoenix @cuteipat  @lustremyg 

[spenciegoob]

A Short Film

A/N: hey hey hey... mid writing this I realized how much I jumped the gun and thought this was a good concept, but now that I’m thinking too hard about it, maybe it’s not. I also wrote too much of it to back down now, so hopefully someone out there enjoys this as much as I did in my head lol.

Summary: Spencer steps way out of his comfort zone to ask his film major girlfriend a question.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: nothing really...  Spencer hardcore struggling with technology

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

___

“Hey Garcia, do you think you could help with something?” Spencer asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and not looking up from the floor of her office.

“Of course, Boy Wonder? What can I do for you?” Garcia answered while excitedly turning her chair back to her wall of screens.

Spencer grabbed the extra chair in her office and mumbled, “Actually um,” causing Garcia to completely abandon her position and fully face the genius.

“Spencer, are you okay? Is something wrong?” Spencer couldn’t blame her for asking. He was sweating more than usual, his face was bright red and he hadn’t stop fiddling with his hands since he shut the door.

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just, uh, I don’t really know how to ask this,” Spencer stumbled back. It was the truth after all. No life experience had prepared him for such a request, one that in the grand scheme of things was not a lot, but to Spencer.

To Spencer, it was everything.

“That’s okay. Take your time,” Penelope stated back, and coming from anyone else, Spencer would have believed it was sarcastic in nature. But he also knew that Penelope was one of the only people he could never find judgement or maliciousness from.

You were the other.

“So Y/N and I as you’re probably aware have been together for 2 years now, and you also know that she just got her degree in cinematography and design, which is really funny if you think about it because I know nothing about any of that, but she knows everything. You know, sometimes she’ll explain to me what she sees through her eyes and it’s nothing like what I’ve ever been able to. I’m rambling now but I want to do that,” Spencer spurted out, and once he was done, he took a breath so deep Penelope whole-heartedly believed if he spent one more second talking, he may pass out.

“Woah there, slow down. First of all, that’s adorable. I love Y/N so much. Second of all, how exactly am I supposed to help you see things that way? Shouldn’t she be more help?” Penelope questioned, now completely confused about Spencer’s intentions with this very early morning visit.

“She can’t exactly know. It’s kind of a surprise thing,” Spencer answered shyly. He hadn’t even gotten to the punchline and yet, he was contemplating every move.

Was this a good idea?

But when he saw the way Penelope lit up before she yelled, “Tell me everything, and spare no details. None!” He knew he would stop at nothing to make this perfect.

“So here’s what I was thinking.”

That was 1 year ago today, and since then, Spencer has tried to figure out what to say when he revealed his big project. He stood in front of the mirror every day for 365 days trying to find the perfect way to put it. Still when you sat on your shared couch gazing up at him in amusement, confusion and adoration all at once, his mouth was dry and his throat clamped up.

“Spence, you’re starting to scare me. Are you okay?” You asked, watching as your boyfriend stared at you like a deer caught in headlights with a laptop and assorted cords in his hands.

“Uh, yes! Yes I am okay. I just need to um, this needs to go. You know what? I wasn’t told how to do this part, can you help me?” Spencer paced back and forth between you and the TV four times while he was talking before he stopped defeated in front of you. He wouldn’t have asked for help unless he was certain Penelope was smart enough to insert a black screen in the beginning of what caused the laptop to burn a hole in his hand.

“Yes, of course,” you said, slightly chuckling at his confusion. Spencer Reid and technology, whilst tragic, was also very adorable. “What are you trying to do?”

“I need the video on the laptop to play on the TV,” he stated simply. At least he knew what he wanted. That was a new, first step in the right direction.

“Okay easy. Just hand me that cord, and,” you drew out the ‘and’ as you bent around the TV and plugged in the cord. “Perfect. Now just plug this end into the laptop and hit play.” You handed Spencer back his end of the cord, watching as he examined the object and the side of the computer to know where exactly to put it. It almost felt like watching a toddler try and find the rightly shaped hole for the triangle piece, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t endearing.

Before he could break anything, you stepped in. “I know you’d be able to figure it out, but it’s that one.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled back sheepishly. 

“Okay so a little back story. A year ago today, I asked Penelope to teach me how to record videos on my new phone. Thank you for that by the way, the camera on it is really cool, and I’m not just saying that because it’s one of the only things I know how to work. Anyways, I started secretly recording videos of you, of us, anything that reminded me of you, and me talking about you. So I sent them over to Garcia and she pushed them all together, and I think what I’m trying to say is I made a short film? Home video? It doesn’t really matter, but I’m showing it to you now.” Spencer didn’t acknowledge the shocked look on your face as he settled next to you and put the laptop on the coffee table.

But as you watched him find the video and set up, your jaw stayed slack. Spencer Reid, the world’s biggest technophobe, figured out how to use an iPhone camera just for you. While to others it may not seem like a lot, to you. 

To you, it was everything.

“Spence, I don’t even know what to say. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” It didn’t feel like enough. The amount of awe, and love that filled your chest was so comforting, so warm.

It felt like home. It felt like Spencer.

“You don’t have to say anything, just watch,” he stated before hitting the spacebar, something he’s seen you do plenty of times.

The video started out with Spencer crouching down slightly to where the phone was set up against a bookcase in front of the couch.

“Is it recording?” He whispered, and when he realized it was, he took a step back and gave a thumbs up before rushing to sit on the couch. You couldn’t help but let a full smile stretch across your face, an involuntary act when it came to Spencer.

“Hey, love bug. It’s Spencer, but wait you knew that because you can see me.” There was a small pause as Spencer squinted to see if you could actually see him from his position on the couch. When he realized he was in frame, he continued. “This is totally weird that I’m technically talking to myself right now, but I hope future me gave you an explanation. I tried to wait for a good time to start recording this, and in the two weeks I’ve known how to work that thing,” Spencer said as he pointed to the camera. “We’ve been on a case. I came home tonight, and you’re sleeping right now, but if I stay quiet enough I can say what I need to.”

You looked over at Spencer as he was twiddling with his fingers. Something he only did when he was nervous. You reached over and grabbed one of his hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but when you tried to pull away so as to not truly disturb his fidgeting, he caught it. So, you intertwined your fingers together, and continued to watch past Spencer.

“I came home today, and all I wanted to do was hold you. Granted, that’s every day, but today was just, it was really hard. When I came home you were asleep on the couch. One time you told me you didn't like to sleep in our bed while I was away, something about it being too big. At first, I was mad because your poor back, but today I changed my mind because the amount of steps to get to you was much less.”

Spencer unlocked the door to the apartment, resting his head against the wood as he inserted the key into the lock. The most recent case had ended with the death of both the latest victim and the unsub, and he couldn’t bear another second of remembering the scene play out in front of him.

All he wanted to do was lay in her arms, but when he opened the door, the apartment was completely silent.

And then he saw a little fuzzy sock clad foot sticking out from underneath the huge, fluffy blanket on the couch. Slowly, he walked towards you, finding you fast asleep with a t-shirt of his tightly snuggled up to your neck and face.

Spencer got down on a knee in front of you, and brushed the hair that had fallen over your eyes. Slowly, they fluttered open at his feather touch, only to widen with realization.

“You’re home!” You squealed, throwing your hands around his neck. Immediately, he reciprocated the hug, tighter than usual. Spencer tucked his head into your neck and inhaled the scent of your shampoo, a grounding technique he would never tell you he developed. The hands he delicately placed at first across the expanse of your back grew heavier, drawing your body closer to his. 

You pulled your head back, him following your movements, and stared deeply into his eyes for a second. The moment you two locked eyes, he knew the jig was up. Spencer knew you could see right through him, and he knew that even if you weren’t there to witness what he had, you saw it replaying over and over in his eyes.

“You must be tired, let’s get you to bed.” Your words shocked him at first. Usually, the people in his life would ask insistent questions on his mental well-being, and while they were greatly appreciated, Spencer was never one to open up when asked to.

You, however, didn’t meddle, you didn’t push. You simply gave him a place to feel safe as you two settled under the duvet together, never letting go of one another even for a second. You held the back of his head, slowly brushing your fingers through his curls as he laid against your chest. Your fingers were medicinal to him, softly taking away the pain and violence of the day, and replacing it with security, comfort, love.

“No one’s ever been that excited to see me before, let alone knew how to take care of me the way you did. I just,” Spencer trailed off and looked towards our bedroom, where you stirred in your sleep looking for him. “You’re about to wake up and wonder where I went. Now you know what I was doing in “the bathroom” for 30 minutes actually meant. Alright, see you next video, love bug.”

The screen cut to Spencer obviously holding the phone close to his chest, the only thing in frame the space where his shoulder and neck met. The soft chords of the start of Vienna by Billy Joel can be heard from outside the room he was in. 

“Okay, I’m gonna have to sneak up on you. I’m sorry in advance.” 

Spencer finally addressed the camera. As the Spencer on the TV quietly left his position in what you could only assume was your bedroom, you looked over at your very real Spencer softly smiling at the TV.

When he caught your stare, he said “Watch, this is my favorite part.” Turning back to the TV, you watched as Spencer carefully tiptoed to the living room, placing the camera to lean against the vase in the middle of the dinner table to face the kitchen.

In the kitchen, you watched yourself very poorly sing along with Billy Joel using a whisk that you just got done washing as a microphone. The blush that crept up your neck and to your cheeks with embarrassment still felt the same as it did that day.

You hadn’t heard Spencer sneak up on you, not until he was right behind you and let out a soft chuckle at a note you missed. Spencer had never seen someone jump out of their skin as much as you did when he made his presence known. 

“Jesus Spencer, you scared me!” You yelled before a smile crept up your face. You couldn’t help it, even in the most embarrassing times, not when Spencer looked at you like that.

“Sorry, love bug. Although, I didn’t mean for you to stop the show.” At that you hit his chest with the whisk/microphone, both of you laughing fully now. “Come here.”

Spencer took your hand, pulling you softly to his chest where you laid your head to his heart. Wrapping his hand around your waist, the two of you started to slowly sway to the music. You both were incredibly offbeat to Vienna, but listening to Spencer’s heart, you realized that the tempo you were dancing at matched up. Unbeknownst to you, due to the adrenaline of being scared, Spencer could feel your heartbeat on his abdomen, and was swaying to that.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, dancing to the in sync beat of each other’s hearts.

The clip of you dancing however only lasted 10 more seconds as the next scene of Spencer bundled up for the fall played. You had met Spencer during the fall, and fell in love with the way the red, yellow and orange leaves contrasted against his honey eyes. This clip was no different.

“Hey, love bug. I’m on my way to deliver this coffee to you in between classes, but I had to stop so I can show you my new friends I’ve made along the way.”

The camera panned down to 4 little ducklings surrounding Spencer’s converse, most of them just waddling around, but one was insistently pecking at the rubber toe of his left shoe. Spencer pointed at the little deviant and said ‘that’s you’ before bringing the camera back up to his face.

“I may have made the mistake of feeding them the fruit I was bringing you, which reminds me I should probably go get you more. I don’t think you’ll be mad though. How could you? Look how cute they are! I kind of want to take them home, but I definitely know that’ll make you mad. Anyways, I just wanted to show off that you’re not always the animal person in this relationship. See you soon, love bug.”

“Oh my god, Spencer. That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, but to confirm your thoughts, yes, I would’ve been mad,” you stated, the giddy smile never leaving your face, and giggles spreading themselves through your words.

“I know, I know. They belong in the wild,” he said back, holding up his free hand in faux defeat.

A new scene presented itself to you, this one being Spencer setting up the camera on the bathroom sink while brushing his teeth. You knew you were approaching by the music slowly getting louder.

You entered you and Spencer’s shared bathroom, Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John playing out of your phone. He was brushing his teeth, and you followed suit, not stopping the small dancing as you did.

You looked at Spencer, and started moving side to side, your free hand grabbing the crook of his elbow to join you. Looking in the mirror expectedly, you watched Spencer look up at the ceiling before joining you, a smile on his face.

Slowly, the two of you fell into a rhythm to the beat of Elton John, making funny faces to each other in the mirror as you did so.

You reached out fully to lean your head on Spencer’s shoulder as you watched.

The scene on the TV shifted once again to show a very flustered you standing in front of the TV with Citizen Kane paused. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you were sporting one of Spencer’s old Caltech t-shirts, and fuzzy black pants with little pumpkins printed everywhere.

Spencer was also wearing the same fuzzy pants.

“Spence, I’m gonna sound crazy here,” you sprinting off the couch after pausing the film you were currently trying to study for your film analysis class. 

“You’re not off to a great start here,” Spencer laughed out. Spencer once told you that no matter what he thought about a book or film, he wanted to listen to you ramble about it for hours. The first thing he fell in love with about you was the way you challenged his thinking, expanding his mind to the possibilities of learning about the difference between production design and cinematography. You taught him something that no class, book or person could ever.

Your mouth dropped open, an over exaggerated gasp leaving your lips, your hand meeting your chest softly. 

“Meanie.” Spencer and you chuckled at the antics, and when the laughs died down, you continued. “Here me out, though.”

And from there, you went into a deep dive about the unreliable narrator, and how it affects camera placement in the scene you two just watched. 

“Oh my god. I talk that fast?” You asked Spencer, who just let a breathy laugh out at your realization.

“Don’t worry, I think it’s adorable,” he whispered the last part, the smile on his face turning from one of hilarity to one full of love.

30 seconds into your rant, you realize the phone he was attempting to hide close to his lap. Your eyes flicked between the camera that was pointed at you, and Spencer, who’s face filled with confusion as to why you stopped talking.

“Are you recording me?” You asked, a smile never leaving your face. Oh no, he’d been caught. Spencer has to think of a believable excuse, and quick.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, I just uh... I figured instead of you trying to write it down later, you’d want all your notes now.” Perfect!

“Damn, that was good,” you said, nodding softly at his swiftness. You couldn’t be mad he lied, how could you when the truth was this beautiful?

“I know, right? I came up with it on the spot,” Spencer joked with you. As if TV Spencer knew he was interrupting a moment, a throat clearing came from the video. The Spencer you saw was from 3 days ago, and was sitting in his car in what looked to be the Quantico parking garage.

“Hi, love bug. I’m days away from showing you this, and I still don’t know what to say. I hope the me you’re with now has figured it out. So, uh, yeah. That’s it. Uh, take it away, future Spencer. Actually, you’d be present Spenc-” The video cut off, courtesy of Penelope Garcia.

“Y/N,” Spencer started, turning to face a very emotional you fully. “I still haven’t found the right words. None of them could express my love for you, and perfect doesn’t come close to describing you. I know you have a thing for supporting evidence, and I think I just provided a lot to prove that the best thing to ever happen in my life is you.” You let out a small giggle, the tears welling in your eyes breaking free. “Oh no, if you cry, then I’m going to.”

You let out a full laugh now as Spencer wiped the tears falling down your cheeks before continuing.

“Before you, I was reckless. I didn’t care what happened as long as I did something to help. Now, I have a reason to be careful, a reason to care. I can’t do that to you, and if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, I need to live.”

You inhaled softly as Spencer reached into the pocket of his pants, taking your hand in his.

“Which brings me to my question,” he said with a small smile and cocked his head. Slowly, he dropped down to one knee in front of you.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” Spencer opened the velvet box to reveal a simple silver band with a square cut diamond delicately placed on top.

“Spencer Reid, yes. I will marry you.”

With shaky fingers, he slid the ring on your fingers, the fit perfect. You couldn’t wait any longer, and grabbed his face in your hands to pull his lips to yours. Your lips molded together in perfect harmony, lulling you deeper into Spencer’s embrace. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I love you, too,” Spencer answered, only pulling back far enough to mumble before kissing you again.

Note to self: thank Penelope Garcia.

____

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[peaceoutofthepieces]

Tracing Time

Saturday, 08:10

Song: Her - Five Minutes

The sun comes out.

It had risen hours ago with Sander, but also like him had then tucked itself away, making its ascent behind a flurry of dense clouds. Now Sander watches as the last wisps slither aside and reveal the full circle.

It hasn’t been up quite long enough to warm the concrete roof Sander sits on. He’d thought, rightly, to grab his jacket before slipping out around an hour prior, and he’s grateful for the tough leather now. He hadn’t bothered bringing his camera, so his hands are also safely tucked into his pockets. He doesn’t need any more photographs of this view than he already has.

He likes it fine like this. To just sit and see. He doesn’t need to capture it. To have it exist in this moment is enough.

Being so high up likely doesn’t help with the chill, but this is one of Sander’s favourite spots. He’d been pleased, the day one of his professors took their class to one of the older buildings in the academy and climbed the back stairs right to the top. They’d had to capture this scene that day. The sun glinting amidst the clouds, the clouds obscuring the tops of some of the area’s highest buildings, and all the life going on down below. Even now there are a few students milling around there, heading to their studios early or meeting fellow classmates, and interspersed is the honk of morning traffic, the hustle and bustle of a world just beginning to wake.

Sander is apart from all of it. The sun is slanting a ray solely for him; the beings below are tiny specks of colour splashed amidst the gray; the level of the world he’s entered is quiet, aside from the music lilting lightly in his ears.

He had been even more pleased that day to notice none of his fellow classmates had paid much attention to the roof itself, but simply focused on the task at hand. He had wondered how such a perfect place of solace wasn���t already constantly occupied, especially when it could be so easily accessed by a whole school of art students. He hadn’t thought he would be able to make it his own.

But sitting on the lip of the building, legs hung over the edge and arms resting on one of the lower bars stopping him from falling to his death, it does feel like the rooftop belongs to him and him alone. The thought is enough to bring a smile to his face.

He’s the only one seeing this right now, the only one capable of capturing this exact image at this exact time. It doesn’t—like many things do—make him feel as isolated or small as he expects. It reminds him that he has his own vision and his own mind and his own existence, and this must mean he is meant for something. This eagle-eye perspective of this universe in this exact moment is made just for him.

His smile widens as he ponders on how Robbe-like that thought is.

It’s this thought that eventually draws him away. He slides his legs back onto solid concrete and hauls himself to his feet, wincing at the twinge in his ass and brushing stone crumbs off the back of his jeans. Then he slips back through the doorway and down the stairs and begins the trek back to his number-one solace.

His feet cry out in relief as he quietly lets himself into the house and pulls off his Docs. They aren’t the best walking shoes. His feet feel achy and sweaty and he curls and rolls his toes on the wooden floor as he hangs his jacket back on his usual hook. Then he climbs another set of stairs.

He’s relieved to find Robbe exactly how he left him, only now lit in a more golden glow. The boy is curled on his side, facing the doorway Sander has just crept through, curls splayed on the pillow and mouth slightly agape. Fast asleep. Beautiful.

Sander tugs off his jumper and steps out of his jeans, then rounds the bed and crawls back in next to his boyfriend.

The sheets have chilled since he vacated them, unhelpful against his already-cold skin. He shifts towards the middle of the mattress and already feels warmer. The heat emanating from Robbe beckons him closer, and he doesn’t fight it, slipping right into the dip behind Robbe and sliding an arm over his waist, pulling the boy back against his chest. Robbe moves easily, snuggling back into Sander with a sigh, and Sander’s whole body blooms with heat.

As much as he likes his rooftop, there’s no doubt that this is his favourite place to be. ‘This’ being anywhere within Robbe’s orbit.

He doesn’t quite drift off again, but his body goes pleasantly lax and his mind quiets. The longer he listens to Robbe’s soft breaths the more his own heart eases.

Then Robbe starts to shift, and Sander worries he’s woken him. He wriggles in Sander’s arms and Sander loosens his grip, but Robbe simply rolls over in his embrace, turning to face him and immediately curling towards his chest. Sander’s lips turn up in a smile as he draws him in, pressing his nose to Robbe’s soft curls and inhaling slowly. Robbe’s arm curls over his waist, tucking around his back and denting his skin.

He traces patterns over Robbe’s bare shoulder in the few minutes it takes for Robbe to stir again. His grip tightens on Sander for a second as his eyes scrunch, refusing to succumb to the sunlight as he presses closer to Sander’s chest.

Sander presses a kiss to the top of his head as he lets out a tiny, whiny hum, still half-asleep as he stretches his toes against Sander’s ankles and blinks.

Robbe’s doe eyes, even while squinty and crusted with sleep, are the most mesmerizing things he’s ever seen. The corners of them crinkle as Robbe leans back far enough to smile up at him before burying his face back in the crook of Sander’s neck. “Morning,” he mumbles. Then he kisses the closest patch of Sander’s skin.

Sander hugs him tight and returns, “Morning. Sleep well?”

Robbe hums again. “Wha’ time is it?”

“I don’t know. Still before nine, I think.”

“Okay,” Robbe sighs, giving him a squeeze. “We still have some time then.” After a pause, he pulls away from Sander again and looks up at him curiously. “Did you go out? You’re cold.”

This last bit comes out as a whine, and Sander huffs. “Yeah. Just for a walk.”

Robbe hums, smiling as he snuggles back into him again, pushing Sander onto his back so he can sprawl out over his chest and lock their arms together. “Taking photos?”

“No. Didn’t take my camera or anything.”

“But you took your phone, right?”

“Of course, I needed music.”

Robbe huffs, but accepts this response without further questions, leaving a smiling kiss on Sander’s chest. He repeats the motion, then starts up a lazy trail, mapping his way across Sander’s collarbone until Sander tugs his hair. Robbe tilts his head up and lets Sander connect their lips, shifting up on the bed and pressing a hand to Sander’s cheek. Sander’s hand moves to cup the back of Robbe’s head, fingers tangling in his curls and drawing him closer. Robbe’s hand moves up his chest to settle in the crook of his neck and he feels suddenly warm.

He skims a hand down Robbe’s back, tracing the divots and dents of his spine, breathing slow under Robbe’s lazy kisses. He palms at Robbe’s hip, and Robbe quickly takes the hint, lifting his leg over Sander’s and settling atop him before letting out a happy hum.

“Good morning,” he says, amused and cheeky, and Sander bites his lip in retaliation.

Robbe giggles and Sander swallows the sound down, tucks it away in the lower part of his chest to be dug up later. He has made up a whole portfolio of these precious sounds, along with a plethora of the most stunning images and a sad imitation of Robbe’s touch. It’s hard to beat the real thing.

Sander soaks up as much of it as he can now and still begs for more, splaying one hand over shoulder-blades and letting the other slide down, curling over the curve of Robbe’s bottom, drawing him down while tilting his own hips up. Now Robbe’s hum is lower, coming from a more guttural place as he bears down on his own, only requiring that initial permission.

He breaks away to gaze down at Sander, tracing light fingertips over his face as he breathes heavily. Sander smooths his hand back up the line of Robbe’s back to tangle both in his hair. This time he makes his way along Robbe’s cheek, feathering kisses against the stubbly skin until he can brush his lips against the shell of Robbe’s ear and nip at the lobe, free of his earring for the moment. Robbe makes a small, mewling noise and tightens his grip on Sander’s shoulders.

“What time are you leaving?” Sander asks, keeping his voice at a murmur so as not to spoil the mood entirely.

“Jens is meeting me here around ten.”

Sander groans. “You can’t make that ten-thirty?”

Robbe huffs gently. He places his hands on Sander’s chest and pushes himself up to sitting, still astride Sander’s hips. Sander would be more upset with the new lack of contact if it didn’t give him such a nice view; Robbe is all clean-cut lines and lean muscle, with skin glowy and soft under Sander’s fingers. “Jens wanted to be gone yesterday,” Robbe reminds him, not unkindly.

“Why didn’t he just go with Lucas, then?”

“Because he agreed to wait around so I could spend the night with you.” Robbe raises his brows. At Sander’s permanent pout, he huffs again, shaking his head. “You can still come with, you know. We’re going to get a break before the end of school. Couldn’t you do with a break, too?”

Sander groans again and pulls Robbe’s pillow over his face. “I can’t,” he moans. “This project is due on Monday. Unless I stayed up all night tomorrow, I wouldn’t have time to finish it.”

Robbe hums. “You’re usually the one begging me to keep you up all night.”

Sander gives him a sour look, even as his stomach flutters.

“I’m sorry,” Robbe laughs. “I really am. But you know Lucas never asks for anything.”

“And you want to go.”

Robbe hesitates, but he never lies to Sander. He gives a tiny nod and an apologetic smile. “I do. And Jens really needs it.”

Sander considers him for a moment, the lovely curve of his lips and the gentle doe-eyes, and blows out a sigh. “You deserve it,” he says softly. He gives Robbe’s ear a tug and allows himself to smile. “And I suppose I’ll survive.”

It only takes Robbe’s grin to prove he’s done the right thing. Robbe leans down to leave him a kiss, light but lingering, and then turns it into a dozen different pecks instead. “You better. Thank you.”

Sander can only lie there and accept the onslaught of affection, laughing as he settles his hands on Robbe’s thighs and squeezes. He meant what he said—Robbe does deserve it. They hadn’t managed to get away over the break as initially planned, so when Lucas invited them back to Utrecht this weekend they had jumped on the offer. Sander had shared the excitement initially, but then had quickly been reminded of his reality, in which he had stupidly chosen to leave things to the last minute.

“I feel more sorry for you, anyway,” Sander mumbles, emitting a low whistle. “I’ll be alone, but at least I’ll have a quiet night.”

Robbe immediately pushes himself up again, wide-eyed. “No. We’re staying at Lucas’s house, with his mom. Surely they won’t…”

Sander snorts, waving at the space around them and raising a brow. “Where are we right now, Robbe?” At Robbe’s blush, he purses his lips together, making his own eyes big in suggestion. “It is a stress-relief getaway.”

Robbe buries his face in his hands and groans. He rolls off of Sander even as the elder protests, peeking through his hands to stare up at the ceiling. “I’m going to come home traumatised. It’ll be worse than the time I walked in on him and Jana.”

“Not if you don’t walk in on them,” Sander laughs. Seconds later, a pillow smacks him in the face. He makes a muffled protest as he’s attacked again, grabbing at the soft material and wrestling it out of Robbe’s grip to whack him back, hearing Robbe make an ‘oof’ sound before breaking out into giggles.

Eventually, Sander tosses the pillow aside and wrestles Robbe instead, getting him flat on his back and moving over him. He slots a leg between Robbe’s and presses their tangled hands down either side of Robbe’s head, and Robbe’s eyelids droop. Then his fingers flex around Sander’s as his lips part. His neck strains as his head tilts up. Sander ducks down, but forgoes Robbe’s lips to lick a stripe up his neck.

“Sander,” Robbe whines, squirming underneath him in protest even as he lets out a breathy laugh.

“What?”

“We haven’t got long.”

Sander hums, pulling the patch of skin he’d been kissing between his teeth to hear Robbe gasp. “We’d have longer if you were going to stay.”

“Sander,” Robbe repeats, this time in sullen protest.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sander soothes. “We still have enough time though, don’t we?”

“Did you hear my mom when you got back?”

“Nope. I assume she’s still sound asleep.”

Robbe smiles at that, pleased, and Sander finally grants him a kiss, slow and sensual until Robbe makes a needy little sound and squeezes his hands. Sander releases his hands and Robbe immediately tangles them in his hair, tugging at the strands.

“How many minutes do we have to make up for?” Sander asks him.

“Too many to waste time calculating now. We just have enough time to make sure you don’t forget me while I’m gone.” Robbe winks at him, and Sander huffs and goes in for another kiss, but Robbe is already moving. Sander half expects to be rolled over again, but instead Robbe just shimmies down, licking and biting his own way along Sander’s neck before heading lower.

Sander’s arms tremble with the effort of keeping himself up when Robbe’s lips close around his nipple. He draws his pillow over to bury his face in it as Robbe works a mark into his chest, rolling the opposite nipple under his thumb. Once he’s pleased with his work and Sander’s mumbling his name, he makes his way further south.

The following minutes are quite memorable indeed.

~^~

next

[myhockeyworld87]

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 23

Word Count: 4,542

POV: Starts with the Reader then switches to Sid’s

Warngings: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Sorry this is so late tonight, but well you know life, but here it is finally. Last when we saw these two, Sid had screwed up when he tried to apologize to (Y/N) and accused (Y/N) of flying back to Pittsburgh and sleeping with another man, his teammate. Now let’s find out what happened. As always love your feedback and Happy Reading! Let me know what you guys think.

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

READER'S POV

 "Are you ok?" Matt asked, throwing an arm around you as your head hung low in your hands. You could tell by his soft voice he wasn't sure if you were crying or not. Oh, you could that was for sure, but not from sadness, it was out of anger.

"No," you mumbled, then stood up and started to pace the floor. "I'm pissed off."

 "I can tell," Cully answered as he watched you move around the great room.

 "Who does he think he is?" It was a rhetorical question, so Matt stayed quiet. "I can't believe he has the nerve to think that I would just fly home to Pittsburgh and just jump in bed with someone. And that for him to think that I would sleep with you!" That came out a bit harsher than you intended. "Not that you're not hot or anything, but you're Dad, you know, and then there's Bridget and…"

 "I get it, (Y/N)." Matt chimed in saving you from further embarrassment.

 "He's just so fucking frustrating." You plopped back down on the couch next to Matt. "He never asked me to move in, you know. He just thinks I'm a mind reader or something. I mean sure I would've loved to move in, had he asked, but did he? NO!" You fought the urge to jump off of the sofa and start pacing again. There was so much tension and frustration that was bundled up inside you, that you just needed to get this nervous energy out of your system. Instead, you reached for the carton of sweet and sour chicken you'd order and shoved a piece in your mouth. It tasted like the cardboard it came in, but that had nothing to do with the quality of the food and everything to do with the nasty after-taste your conversation with Sid had left in your mouth. "I don't really think I'm being unreasonable here…do you?"

 By the look on Matt's face, he was still trying to figure out what you'd said as you hadn't even swallowed the chicken before rambling again. He finished chewing his egg roll, like any normal civilized human being would, though at the moment you didn't feel normal or polite before he answered you. "First off, you're right he should've asked you about moving in." Matt could tell you were about to interrupt him, so he quickly continued. "And you're right about him jumping to a big conclusion about you sleeping with someone, though honestly, I'm quite a catch, just ask Bridget I'm sure she'll tell you that."

 "You are," you said giving him a little wink, even though you'd never looked at him that way.

 "Thank you, now as I was saying, and I'm not trying to make excuses for him here…"

 "I feel like there's a big but coming."

 "But," there it was, you saw it coming a mile away. "I've played with Sid for a year, but I've known him longer than that. You're like the first woman he's ever really had a relationship with. I just don't think he knows how to act." That couldn't be right, you thought. "I mean sure he's gone out on dates and taken someone to an event here or there but nothing like what the two of you have."

 You'd known that he'd been hesitant to get involved with you because he thought it would interfere with hockey but you hadn't really given much thought to him not having experience in a relationship, but what Cully was saying made some sense. "I mean think about it, (Y/N). Hockey has been his whole life until you walked in. He went from being this amazingly talented kid to a superstar center and he's had no chance to experience the stuff that went in between with it. And do you know why that is?"

 You shook your head no, wanting to hear what Cully's assessment was. "Because he's been afraid." Your brows knitted together as you tried to take in that concept. Sid wasn't afraid of anything that you knew of. Thankfully, Matt continued to explain this abstract notion to you. "He's afraid that he'll fail at it. With hockey he can control it, he can work at it. He can go out on the ice and shoot five hundred pucks until he gets that shot right. But this," Matt said, waving his hand in the air then back at you. "This thing he has with you. He has no control over it and that scares the hell out of him. There's no manual on how to be the perfect boyfriend or what to do when you have an argument, and he certainly can't go out to a rink and practice how to do it. He's afraid he'll make the wrong move, probably like he just did, and well…you'll be gone."

 Fuck. That was the only word echoing through your brain. You'd never looked at any of this through Sid's eyes, but you knew that Cully was right. You tossed your head back on the sofa cushion, looking up the ceiling for some sort of divine intervention on what you should do next. "He still shouldn't have said I was sleeping with you."

 "No, he shouldn't have." Matt attempted. "I guess the question is what do you want to do? Is what you have with Sid worth working things out? Are you brave enough to navigate the waters so to speak, where no one else has; helping him along?" You closed your eyes already knowing what you were going to do, but still thinking all your options out. "I remember a certain someone," he jabbed his elbow lightly into your ribs. "Being a bit insecure herself about dating a famous athlete not too long ago."

 You looked over at Matt, head still firmly planted into the headrest of the couch, and rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, and Sid reassured me about everything." Now it was your turn to reassure him you supposed.

 "It's up to you what you want to do. The ball, or puck in your case, is in your rink so to speak."

 "I'm still mad at him," you told Cully, finally sitting upright on the couch.

 "Rightly so."

 "Which means he can stew a little bit longer."

 "Bridget would agree with you." You had to laugh at that because you had a feeling Matt's wife had left him in the dog house a time or two before he was actually forgiven.

 Blowing out a long breath, you'd come to your decision. "But I will forgive him."

 "That's my girl," Cully said then handed back over your Chinese carton to continue eating. "Now that that's settled. Can we finish eating?"

 It was a couple hours later before Matt left for the evening. "Promise me you won't let him wait forever before talking to him."

 "I won't." Though you did want him to suffer just a bit longer.

 "Good, because I have a feeling he'll be blowing up my phone until you talk to him." You walked Matt to the door.

 "Sorry, you got dragged into this mess."

 Matt leaned in and kissed your head like any dutiful dad would that was helping his daughter. "Get some rest. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

 "Night, and thanks again."

 SID'S POV

 You turned over for what had to be the hundredth time in the last hour and looked at the clock. Which literally read twelve minutes after three. Exactly seven minutes from the last time you'd looked at it. Why hadn't she called already? Was she going to? She probably hated you and she had every right to. You were so fucking stupid accusing her of sleeping with someone when all you wanted to do was apologize for the first fuck up you'd made the night before. Instead, you'd gone and made things a million times worth.

 The tone of her voice said it all. (Y/N) was pissed beyond words at the accusation and you knew that had she been standing in front of you she probably would've smacked you across the face; deservingly so. There was no point in laying in bed and staring at four walls so you got up and went to blow off some steam by working out, though it didn't help.

 You were a walking zombie by the time training practice rolled around though you put every ounce of effort you had into it, at least when you weren't checking your phone to see if (Y/N) had called. She hadn't. Physically, you were exhausted and it was only six o'clock at night. Nate suggested going out for dinner but you couldn't stomach the thought of eating a nice meal knowing that your relationship was barely hanging on by a thread, so you opted out and instead just grabbed some takeout at home.

 You'd spoken to Matt a couple times, though all he would say was to give (Y/N) time. How much time though? That was the real question. Should you be jumping on a plane and flying down to Pittsburgh at this very moment or would that make this worse? You'd really made a mess of things and had no clue how to fix it.

 Sleep evaded you again that night, even though you were both mentally and physically exhausted. You finally fell asleep around four-thirty in the morning only to have the alarm go off at six. You dragged yourself out of bed and headed off to train, hoping that it would take your mind off things.

 "You look like shit, man," Nate told you as soon as you walked into the building. "You sure you want to be here today."

 "What else am I going to do?"

 Nate shrugged not having an answer of his own for you. "Have you at least talked to (Y/N)?"

 "No, I haven't called her. I'm trying to give her time."

 Nate looked you up and down a few times assessing you and weighing his words before he spoke again. "I know you're trying to give her space, but maybe you should go see her. I've never seen you like this man."

 "I want to." All you wanted to do was get on a plane and head straight to her. "I'm just not sure it won't make things worse."

 "I know she wanted you to stay and train, but honestly Sid, neither one of us is going to be pushing hard when you're completely exhausted. I'm not saying to fly back and stay in Pittsburgh. Just go there and work things out with her." Nate clapped you on the back. "For both our sakes."

 Maybe he was right. You could just fly down for the day and come right back. All you needed to do was call and get a plane. "You're right. As soon as we're done today, I'm going to call and get it all set up. I've got to win her back."

 "That's the spirit."

 Training went a little better as you formulated a plan to win back (Y/N). You were even smiling some at the end of the day. "So as soon as we get that Tim Horton's shoot done, I'm flying out. Think we can get it done by four tomorrow afternoon?" You asked Nate as you grabbed your bag and headed out of the facility. "The plane can be ready by five, so that gives me an hour to get to the airport. Think that's enough time?"

 You were looking at your schedule on your phone making sure that you could fit everything in before flying and not paying attention when you heard Nate say, "I don't think you have to worry about making that plane." You looked up at Nate not knowing why he would say such a thing when he was the one that suggested you go to Pittsburgh in the first place. He nodded his head pointing in the direction of your Suburban. There stood (Y/N) leaning up against your car.  

 You blinked once and then repeated the action, not believing that she was really there. It had to be some sort of dream. Were you hallucinating? Lack of sleep could do that to a person. But as you drew near, it became evident that she was standing there in the flesh and blood. She looked stunning, wearing a plain belted t-shirt dress; her hair tied back in a simple ponytail, with little wisps framing her face. God, you'd missed her.

 "Hey (Y/N)." Nate's voice brought you out of your musing and you shook yourself, trying to regain your composure.

 "Hi Nate," she waved back, before pushing off the vehicle.

 "Good luck," Nate told then took off for his own car.

 You were too busy staring at the woman in front of you though to pay any attention to Nate. "Hi," you whispered in a small voice, one that was shaky and unsure of how to proceed.

 "Hi, Sidney." You found yourself frown at her use of your name. It wasn't Sid, or babe, or hun, or any of the other million nicknames she called you. "Can we talk?" You wanted to, that was your whole point of planning to go to Pittsburgh for a whirlwind of twelve to sixteen hours, but now that (Y/N) was standing here, you had no idea what to say.

 "Yeah," was the only word that came out of your mouth and you wanted to kick yourself for not saying anything more.

 "Not here," she said motioning to the parking lot.

 No, this wasn't exactly an ideal place to have an intimate conversation about your relationship. "Did you want to go back to the house?" Oh god, maybe that was a bad suggestion. "Or we could go grab something to eat?" Even though that was the last thing you wanted to do.

 "The house is fine." She opened the passenger door and then crawled inside the car before you could say anything else. It took you a minute to gather yourself and walk around to the driver's side. You'd planned on coming up with a whole speech to say to her while you were on the plane. Now you had exactly nine and half minutes, if there was traffic, to think of how you were going to apologize to the woman you loved.

 The ride was silent except for the radio playing in the background. It was weird to drive like this with her. Normally your hands would be interlaced resting on the console in the middle of the car as you drove with your free hand, but as you glanced over you saw that she was sitting on hers. A clear sign that you were not supposed to touch her. It killed you and so your hands remained at ten and two on the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip as you fought the urge not to reach over and grab her.

 You glanced every so often at her, wondering what was going through her mind. It killed you that she wasn't saying anything. "How was your flight?" you finally blurted out when you were halfway home.

 "It was good. Had a bit of a layover in Philly. So not as good as flying privately with you."

 That flight was one you wouldn't forget. It was the first time you'd been thirty thousand feet in the air and buried deep inside (Y/N). Definitely an experience you'd thought you'd be repeating again. You hadn't expected that you'd be in the car with her now wondering if you still had a relationship.

 By the time you pulled into the driveway, your nerves were shot, wondering if (Y/N) had flown all the way just to break up with you. You tried to think logically and tell yourself that if she wanted to do that, she would've done it on the phone, but knowing (Y/N), she would have to tell you that in person and not take the cowardly way out. She followed you into the house, where you sat your bag down at the door before Sammy came wondering up for her nightly pats. "Hey Sammy, how are you sweet girl?" (Y/N) said bending down to show your dog more affection than she'd shown you.

 You coughed trying to work the lump that was in your throat out. "Can I get you something to drink?"

 "A water would be great." You grabbed two bottles out of the fridge, opening hers like you always did, before handing it over to her, both of you taking a drink.

 "(Y/N), I'm…" you started to say right as (Y/N) said "Sid, I…" The two of you laughed, even though it was hollow, it still broke the tension.

 "Do you mind if I go first?" (Y/N) asked though she didn't really need to as you'd gladly give her anything as long as she didn't say she never wanted to see you again. "I hope you know that I would never, not in a million years, cheat on you. I'm not sure how you jumped to that conclusion but I'm not that kind of person, Sid. If I wanted to be with someone else, I'd be upfront with you and tell you. I wouldn't go running off and sneak behind your back."

 When she took a breath, you jumped in. "I know that (Y/N). I truly do. I don't have an excuse for why I said that other than to say that I was jealous and upset, but I'm truly sorry for saying it. I don't know how I can make it up to you."

 "I just don't understand why you think that. Have I ever given you a reason to believe that I would do something like that?"

 "NO!" You shouted, not really yelling at her but wanting her to know it wasn't her fault. "I'm just stupid. Stupid and crazy in love with you, and sometimes…" you blew out a breath. "I'm just so worried I'm going to lose you or you won't love me anymore. I'm not good at this (Y/N). I've never had a relationship last over a couple weeks. I'm afraid I'll do something wrong and push you away, but that's what I did anyhow."

 "Sid," (Y/N) said taking your hands in hers. You relished even that small contact. "You're not going to lose me or do something wrong." She moved a step closer to you, and you breathed in the intoxicating fragrance that was (Y/N). "I love you silly, and yes I was upset that you didn't see my point about staying here, and we both did stupid things, but that doesn't mean I stopped loving you." Her hand came up and cupped your cheek and you found yourself melting into her touch. "We both need to learn to communicate better. No more running away, for either of us." You were surprised she was including herself in this part, but you supposed she considered taking an earlier flight to Pittsburgh running away as well. "Do you think we can do that?"

 "Of course, if you think you can forgive me for being a selfish jerk and wanting you with me all the time."

 She rocked her head from side to side a small little smile playing across her lips. "I think I can do that. Besides, I kind of like that you want me around all the time."

 You pulled her close, so that no distance separated the two of you, as you wrapped your arms around her waist. "You do huh?"

 "MmmHmm." It was then that she leaned up and captured your lips. God, she tasted like heaven. It had been almost four days since you'd kissed her, yet it felt like four million years. You poured all your love into the kiss hoping to show her how much you not only loved her but how sorry you were for everything that you had done.

 When the two of you finally came up for air, you asked her, "So when are you flying back? Tell me that there won't be a car here in fifteen minutes to pick you up."

 "It's actually thirty."

 "That would've been so much more convincing if you weren't smirking the entire time," you told her giving her hips a little squeeze.

 "You're stuck with me until Sunday night. That is if I can stay?"

 "Are you crazy? Of course, you can stay, but where's your stuff?" You distinctly remember seeing her have only her purse with her when she was leaning against the car.

 "Oh, well. I stashed it in the garage before I had the car drop me off at the rink."

 "So, you mean to tell me you planned on forgiving me all along?"

 "I had some very good advice from a mutual friend, that lead me here." She had to be referring to Cully. You definitely owed him when you got back in town.

 "Well, I'll be sure to thank him." You dropped a kiss to her lips again, just needing to touch her in any way possible. "Did you want to go out for dinner? I can change and be ready in ten minutes."

 Her arms tightened around your neck, as your hands moved up and down her sides. "I'd rather just stay in and order if you don't mind."

 "Not at all," you answered with a raise of your eyebrows. "Though there is something I have to ask you." She pulled back slightly and cocked her head to the side in question. "I was stupid before to assume that you'd just move in with me. So now, this is me asking. (Y/N), I know I can be extremely difficult and stupid at times, but there's nothing I want more than to go to sleep every night lying beside you and to have you wake up next to me every morning. Any chance of making this happen?"

 You could see her thinking it over and you weren't sure if she was trying to be cute and make you wait for an answer or if she truly had concerns. "I would love to, on one condition." It was your turn to give her that questioning look. "If it becomes too much, you know being with each other at home and at work; you'll tell me so I can move back to my place."

 "Babe, it's not going to be too much. I don't want you six feet from me now. That's not going to change."

 "I know but if it does…"

 "If it does, we'll talk about it. Like mature adults. I will not storm out of the house and go stay with Geno." She laughed then, the sound music to your ears.

 "Well, then Mr. Crosby it looks like you just got yourself a roommate."

 "And a pretty one at that," you said kissing her soundly on the lips. "Now, what would you like for dinner?"

 "Maybe we should skip that and go straight for dessert?" (Y/N) was peppering you with kisses and making it hard to concentrate. This was your first fight and you weren't sure if you should just give in and go all out for makeup sex or take things slow and continue to talk things over at dinner. The last thing you needed was to make another mistake that's for sure.

 Pulling back ever so slightly from the embrace, you gazed at (Y/N). "Are you sure about skipping dinner?"

 (Y/N)'s hand slid down to your crotch where she cupped your ever-growing erection. "Yes, I missed you." You didn't ask anything more, knowing that you could always order a pizza later. Instead, your lips captured hers, stealing her breath away before you scooped her up in your arms and headed upstairs. One kiss melted into another and then to another until you were laying her down on the bed that you'd shared only days ago. The same one that had felt too big without her lying beside you.

 The two of you were a mess of tangled limbs and you weren't sure who was removing what clothing. All you knew is that neither one of you could be naked fast enough. Your lips traveled down her neck until you sucked on her nipples. Her body arching into your mouth greedily. One hand slid down her stomach, parting her thighs, leaving her open and wanting for you, as your lips started to travel the same path. (Y/N) stopped you though, her hands cradling your cheeks. "I need you inside me." As much as you wanted to feast on her pussy, the pleading tone in her voice had you giving in to not only her wants but yours as well.

 You settled yourself between her legs, grabbing her hips and edging her just that inch or two closer. You could feel the heat radiating off her body even before your cock slid between her folds. She was deliciously wet, and being inside her felt like coming home after a two-week road trip. (Y/N) was everything. She was your shelter from the worst storm. The light when only darkness surrounded you. There was no other woman in the world that was made for you like she was, and with every thrust of your hips and every kiss from your lips, you tried to tell her that. You would articulate it all into words for her later when you were holding her in your arms, but for now, you let your body speak them for you.

 Her legs started to tremble, and you could feel her fluttering around your cock, as she took you in deeper and deeper. You knew she was close and with a few more thrust, you felt her lose control. "I love you," she cried out, right as she hit that peak, and it was those words that sent you spiraling over the edge with her. Your own declaration of love spilling from your lips.

 The two of you laid there for some time. Soft kisses being exchanged here and there as your breathing returned to normal. "I don't ever want to fight with you again," you told her, as your fingers trailed up and down her heated flesh.

 "Me either." She agreed before kissing you soundly. "Though the makeup sex, was kind of fun."

 You shook your head at her, a soft chuckle escaping you. Sex with (Y/N) was always great. "While that was pretty amazing, I'd rather not have you absent from my life and my bed for four days. I was a mess without you." Just then your stomach growled. "I haven't eaten a decent meal since this whole thing went down."

 "Well then, we better feed you before you wither away to nothing." She reached over and grabbed her phone. "I'll cook for you tomorrow. Tonight, you're getting takeout and then after that, I plan on making up for lost time."

 "Sounds good, but I also plan on stocking up for our days apart." You wrapped your arms around her tightly, hating the thought that she'd be leaving in just a few short days, but you knew that when you finally got back in Pittsburgh, she would be there waiting for you, this time ready to build a home with you.  

[inadaydream99]

hello! if it’s okay, could i please request a skz reaction where they reject you but end up regretting it because they realized they really you? if it’s too much, maybe a member of your choice? thank you so much! and please do not rush! take as much time as you need!

Hi, thanks for requesting! I made this quite fluffy, but a few are angst and I also did all members because I couldn’t pick just one 😂 I really hope you enjoy!

Chan

The humiliation was real. Being rejected is more embarrassing that you think, especially when it’s by one of your friends.

You’d had a crush on Chan for a very long time. You’ve just never said anything until now in fear of rejection and, as it turns out, you should have just kept your feelings to yourself.

You couldn’t even look at him as you heard him mutter “I’m sorry.”, nodding your head in responce as it hangs low.

It’s been a few days since then and you’ve not stopped replaying the scene in your head since. Your mind is literally torturing you, making you cringe and you just end up stuffing your face into your pillow in a weak attempt at repressing it.

Just as you’re finally about to fall asleep you hear a knock on your front door, whining as you sit up on your bed before dragging yourself to see who could possible be visiting you.

Your breath hitches when you open the door to reveal Chan stood on the opposite side. He looks nervous, swinging back and forth on his feet impatiently. Your eyes lock instantly and for a minute you feel like you are dreaming.

“Do you believe in second chances?” He breaks the shocked silence, a relieved smile growing on his face when you nod yes, still in a daze.

“Then I’d really like to take that chance. I regretted letting you go without telling you how I really feel.” Chan continues, slowly becoming more confident and bubbly with each passing second.

“I guess you’ll have to tell me now then.” You tease with an elated grin on your face.

Minho

Minho hated himself for pushing you away. He hated himself for being the reason you are upset. But most of all he hated himself because he is so madly in love with you and he ruined any chance to tell you.

That is until he has an epiphany while moping around. If you won’t listen to him or respond to any of his messages, then he’ll just have to find a way to win you over, a way that you can’t ignore.

“I may not show it often, but you mean everything to me!” Minho shouts up to you from the middle of the street.

It 2am and freezing outside, but he doesn’t care. He’s finally been able to get your attention by throwing pebbles at your window and playing your favourite song on full blast through his speaker, what a cliché moment.

“I’m in love with you.” He shouts at the top of his lungs.

The cheesy grin on your face can’t possibly be hidden. You never thought you would ever see Minho do anything like this. Risking everything just to tell you how he feels.

“I love you too!” You shout back, letting all your worries go and just living in the moment.

“Can you two be quiet!” You hear a voice shout out. One of your neighbours must have grown tired of all the noise.

You both snicker at one another in giddy amusement, feeling like devious kids. Partners in crime.

You signal to Minho that you’ll be down in a minute, rushing out of your apartment and down the stairs to meet him in the blustering wind. Ready to start a new chapter together.

Changbin

“I never want to be the reason you’re hurting.” Changbin takes your hand in his, pleaing for forgiveness from you.

What had started off as a lighthearted conversation amongst the group had turned sour pretty fast. It all started because Seungmin asked Changbin if he would ever date you in front of everyone. It wasn’t intentional on Seungmin’s part to cause an argument, he thought it was quite a funny question to ask because you and Changbin have been best friends for so long. But when Changbin said “no” without even a seconds thought you were deeply hurt. Was there something repulsive about you to him?

“Then why did you reject me in front of everyone?” You defensively retort. You’re not impressed with him right now, and rightly so. But you can see the genuine regret he feels which makes it hard to stay mad for very long.

“Because I panicked... I didn’t want you find find out how I feel about you like that.” Changbin mumbles, feeling nervous in his confession to you. He knows that he has to be honest with you now because he can’t stand the idea of losing you completely.

“How do you feel about me?” You encourage him to continue, your body language becoming less defensive as you relax your shoulders.

“Like you’re the only person who’s opinion I care about, that you light up any room you enter instantly... that you are the only one I ever want to be with.” Changbin’s words are heartfelt and you can tell it’s taken a lot of courage for him to say them.

“I feel the same about you.” You manage to respond whilst holding back tears of joy.

Hyunjin

“So I overreacted, I do that all the time!” Hyunjin throws his hands up defensively, his excuse falling on deaf ears as he rants away to Minho.

“But you still rejected (Y/N), regardles of how you feel now.” Minho looks up from his phone to see Hyunjin’s reaction.

“Then what should I do?” He whines, dramatically falling against the table in distress. At least he’d finally stoped pacing the room.

“You go and appologise?” Minho sarcastically states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Hyunjin just mimickes him, annoyed by his lack of sympathy towards the situation. Though anyone would feel agitated when it’s all Hyunjin has gone on about for the last few days.

You stand in shock having answered the door to reveal Hyunjin and after ten minutes of him apologising and begging for you to give him a chance to redeem himself (a little too loudly for comfort), it’s your turn to speak.

“It’s gonna take a while to redeem yourself, but maybe we can try.” You agree, rolling your eyes playfully when Hyunjin crushes you in a tight hug, repeatedly thanking you for a second chance.

Jisung

“I did the one thing I promised myself I’d never do...” Jisung sighs in defeat. He can barely look you in the eye as he faces the consequences of his actions.

You’d initially been disheartened when he rejected you, but he was sympathetic towards your feelings and gently let you down rather than being too harsh. You even smiled through the pain and embarrassment, agreeing to not let it ruin your friendship.

But that was almost a year ago now. You have moved on from your crush on Jisung and recently started seeing someone new.

So when he suddenly confesses that he has feelings for you, you aren’t too sure how to react. Initially you feel mad because you feel loke he is messing with your emotions. But the longer you have to process the information, the more you understand where he is coming from.

“I don’t want to be the reason you’re not happy, but seeing you with someone else hurts.” He continues, finally mustering up enough courage to look at you and take in your reaction.

“I don’t know what to say...” You sigh, watching as Jisung takes a deep breath and nod his head. He looks like he is preparing himself for rejection, just like he did to you, and that’s what makes it so hard for you to do.

“Regardless of my feelings towards you, I’m with someone else.” Your chest aches from seeing his solumn face, it’s just as painful being the rejector.

“Can I just know... if I’d not rejected you last year, would I still have a chance?” Jisung’s voice is shallow and weak, his eyes glossy from all the unshed tears.

You can no longer speak, feeling absolutely terrible, so you just nod yes, shooting him a meek smile.

Felix

Felix holds the cake outstretched in his hands, sending you a pleading smile. “I’m sorry.” He apologises, a hopeful look on his face.

You can’t help but crack a smile, laughing at your goofy friend.

“Felix why do you have a cake?” You raise your brow. Truthfully, you find the whole situation hilarious, only Felix would do something so endearing and sweet like bake you a cake when he wants to make things up to you.

“A good way to appologise is with cake.” He states like it’s a well known fact. “And I was kind of hoping that you’ll love the cake so much you’ll give me a second chance, because I really like you (Y/N).” He continues, catching you off guard. You’d never expected him to change his mind after rejecting you.

“Well, it is a really pretty cake... but are you sure?” You act coy, not wanting to give your feelings away in case he has another change of heart.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He admits confidently, an elated grin on his face when you accept the cake and grab his hand, dragging him into your apartment.

Seungmin

“I will fix what I have broken.” Seungmin is so determined to get you back that he almost sounds angry. Even Hyunjin flinches a little at his words, watching silently as Seungmin marches off to find you.

After having confessed to Seungmin a couple of weeks ago, you hadn’t spoken to him since. You just felt too embarrassed and awkward to face him and so your friendship crumbled.

“(Y/N) we need to talk.” Seungmin comes striding into your work, making the small office fall deathly silent.

“Seungmin I’m working right now.” You whisper, your eyes darting around the room self consciously to make sure no one is watching you.

“But it’s important.” He states, shooting you his best puppy eyes so you’ll give into him.

“Ugh fine.” You cave, ushering him into the empty room next door so you have some privacy.

“I like you.” Your eyes grow wide at his confession. Had you heard him right?

“But... you-”

“I know and I’m so sorry. It made me realise that there’s a part of me missing when you’re not around.” Seungmin anxiously explains. His demeanour has done a 180 degree flip now, he looks timid and nervous as he wait for you to process the information.

“I wish you’d realised sooner, but I guess better late than never.” You tease, feeling your heart skip a beat upon seeing Seungmin’s face light up with the most adorable smile you’ve ever seen.

Jeongin

“Caught off guard was an understatement.” Jeongin reasons, trying everything he has to get you to forgive him. But he’s the reason you’re heartbroken, he can’t keep playing with your fragile emotions like this.

“No, you had your chance. I can’t believe you have the audacity to make excuses like this. You humiliated me in front of all my closest friends.” You remain strong, your face void of any emotion, regeardless of how difficult it is to see Jeongin like this.

“Just give me a chance to make it up to you.” He begs. It’s almost pathetic how desperate he looks right now.

“Goodbye Jeongin.” You snarl, slamming the door shut in his face. Jeongin stands defeated on the opposite side of the door. He knows this is what he deserves, but it’s never nice to get a taste of what you dish out to others.

[keanureevesisbae]

The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 10

Summary: After the livestream, Henry is trying to move on from this. However, that is harder than it seems. 

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 4.4k

Warnings: None

A/N: The formatting of this chapter is a bit different than usual, but I felt this would be the best way to describe Henry’s feelings. 

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

1 hour after the livestream

Henry fucked up. Henry truly fucked up. After he watched Adelaide step into that cab, the tears so evident in her eyes, he pushed all the cameramen out of his sight and didn’t want the other contestants to ask him any questions about this.

And because Henry obviously has a mature and adult way of dealing with his emotions, he locks himself up in the bedroom. The same bedroom where he made all those memories with Adelaide. He remembers her sleeping as soon as she would hit the mattress. Her fingers grazing over his arm. Her sleeping body securely in his arms, her head on his chest and the soft good morning kisses when they slept in the tent during their last challenge.

He takes ahold of the pillow Adelaide slept on and as he sits on the bed, he brings it to his face. He pushes his nose into the fabric, as he can still smell the hints of her perfume, her skincare products and her shampoo.

Tears of frustration burn in his eyes, as he continues to remember the hurt in Adelaide’s eyes just now. All because of him.

He fucking hates himself.

Yes, he cannot and will not deny the fact he did talk poorly about her, however he regrets every syllable of it. He knows better now, so much better. Adelaide Park is amazing and has so much to offer. They were planing on getting to know each other even better after this stupid program had ended.

But that is all over now and it’s all is fault.

He hates this show, every single producer and editor who works here and his agency. Especially his agency. He wants to sue every single one of them who were involved in making that heinous compilation, the one blew everything out of proportion, but he needs to think this over, before he makes any rash decisions. Decisions that might only do more damage than any good.

Henry stands up from the bed, to grab his suitcase and starts packing. He needs to leave this place, go back to England, to his own place and think about this.

Adelaide specifically asked not to mention her or talk to her and he should honor her wishes. That is the least he can do after everything that happened.

However, he should release a statement of his own. He should leave his agency. He should reach out to her in another way than directly contacting her. He needs to know whether or not she is okay.

Well, she might not be okay, but he needs to know how she feels. That she knows he is sorry, because he is sorry.

Very sorry.

Fuck, he is such a loser for letting her go like this. Adelaide was totally right. He should’ve been honest with her. Told her about his earlier thoughts regarding her and why he participated in the first place, but also specifically tell her how he changed his mind.

About her, about them, about him playing James Bond.

Henry grabs his phone, so he can check when the first flight back to England is, but he stops mid unlocking his phone and stares at his background. A few days ago, he changed his wallpaper in a picture of the both of them, sitting on the couch. Adelaide’s arms wrapped around his neck, her cheek pressed against his and her eyes shine with happiness.

Henry growls out of frustration. ‘Fuck,’ he hisses between clenched jaws. He already misses her, only sixty minutes after the live stream. He needs to think about this, because he will do anything to clear her reputation, to make it up to her.

Simply because he cares about her and only her.

His Adelaide Park.

◎ ◎ ◎

1 day after the livestream

‘Pick up, pick up, pick up,’ Henry mutters impatiently when he has his phone pressed against his ear. He is back home, as he wanders through his house. He really needs her to pick up. He needs to talk to her.

‘Henry,’ he hears Angela say in a flat tone when she finally picks up. Okay, she is mad and rightly so. ‘How are you?’

‘Not good,’ he answers in all honesty, because lying to Angela Bassett is only asking for trouble really. ‘Please, don’t spare me. I know you saw the livestream, I know you think I fucked up.’

She scoffs. ‘Well, in that case: you truly messed this up. I can’t believe you did this, Henry.  Adelaide Park has been nothing but an angel to you and I honestly thought you liked her.’

‘I do like her,’ he says in a defensive and louder tone.

She is not impressed with his tone. ‘And yet you still broke her heart. What a way to show her you care.’

He doesn’t need to get defensive. This is all his own fault and he deserves this. ‘I know. I’m a fucking idiot.’

‘That’s an understatement,’ she mumbles. ‘Tell me, what do you want from me?’

Henry lets out a deep sigh. ‘I don’t want to call her, because she told me not to talk to her. I want to respect that and I need to respect that, but I have to let her know at least one more time how sorry I am. I regret the words, I regret not being honest to her. I’ll accept whatever answer I get, but I need her to know how sorry I am.’

Angela doesn’t say anything and Henry fears he overstepped. Overstepped a lot.

‘Okay,’ she says, ‘I’ can do that. However, after this, you really need to reflect on this situation. You have broken her heart and ruined it for yourself. Get away from that abysmal agency you’re under contract with and share a statement on every social media platform you have.’

‘I’m already drafting something and I really want to leave that agency, I can tell you that.’

‘Good, because you need to clear your name. I don’t know if that is going to work, but you need to at least try.’

‘I know. Thanks Angela. I owe you.’

‘You sure do,’ she says and hangs up shortly afterwards.

Henry takes a seat on the stool at the bar and looks at the piece of paper on the counter, filled with scribbles and notes. He should make a neutral statement, where his sorry and remorse clearly comes through. He has seen the reactions on her pictures. Fans constantly tag him underneath her pictures and her underneath his and he sincerely hopes they stop doing that.

She doesn’t deserve this at all. She doesn’t need to be reminded of his actions on every social media platform she’s on.

He continues to scribble down words and eventual sentences he can use in his statement. Angela is right: he should do this.

He doesn’t know how long he is bend over the notebook, as he continues to write down a statement that actually satisfies him, but he gets pulled out of his thoughts when he sees the screenshot Angela has send to him.

And it’s what he expected. Adelaide doesn’t accept his apology (which he understands) and she tells Angela she doesn’t want to talk to him ever again, let alone see him. He opens up her Instagram, stares at her beautiful face. He misses her, but this is all his fault.

And Henry should live with that.

◎ ◎ ◎

2 weeks after the livestream

Henry stares at the screen on his laptop, as he checks out the announcement for the newest movie starring Adelaide and David Casta��eda. He keeps wondering what would’ve happened if he actually had auditioned for it.

Wondering is all he does nowadays. Wondering how his life would look like now if he has just been honest with Adelaide. Wondering about them together, if the livestream went well, instead of exploded in the way it did.

He “broke up” with his agency and is currently looking at others, hoping to find himself a new and suitable one. One that wouldn’t do something like this. He always had a little bit of issues with the previous agency, but they offered him pretty decent jobs and he figured that was the most important thing. He never realized how much they interfered in his own personal life.

Henry closes his laptop. He barely left the house after he got back from Italy, except to do some groceries, so he wouldn’t starve to death. He is barely on his phone, just to let Angela, his family and friends know he is sort of doing okay. However he does turn down every invitation to hang out, simply because he can’t face anyone right now. He can barely face himself.

While he continues to attend his own pity party, he has checked what Adelaide has been doing and from the looks of it, she is doing great. She is absolutely glowing and obviously dealing much better with this than he is. She has been putting on a brave face for years now, so dealing with this seems like a piece of cake to her.

At least, that’s what it looks like to the public. During Tommy Hilfiger collaboration, she had this calm glow over her and the reactions underneath the pictures told her so as well.

Later the newest movie announcement with her, David, Reese Witherspoon and Paul Rudd was made. After that announcement, she has been pretty active on Instagram again and he has seen the pictures pop up at his explore page. He resists the urge to check her stories, but decides it would be for the best he doesn’t do that, simply because he feels like he shouldn’t intrude like that.

Fuck, he wishes he would feel better, but he doesn’t. Deep down he feels like he should forgive himself and at least try and move on, but he can’t seem to find the strength to forgive himself for his actions.

His fans reacted well to his statement and lots of people said reality tv can make everything look worse than it actually is. While it was definitely made worse than it actually was, he still feels bad and realizes he shouldn’t be as easily forgiven as he is now.

Henry is still thinking about suing the program, but he decided to just drop it. He doesn’t even have the energy to think about a lawsuit, let alone actually do it.

There is one thing to be happy and grateful about: Adelaide seems to do okay and for now, that is all that actually matters to him.

◎ ◎ ◎

1 month after the livestream

The 8seconds event Adelaide attended for her collaboration with them, might’ve been the worst things that happened to either of them since the livestream. Henry did look up the event, because he just wants to continue to see how she is doing. He saw the moment the journalists could ask questions and especially the second one journalist asked if Adelaide had spoken to Henry after the statement and what she thought of it. Her face never showed any emotions and she simply thanked everyone for their time and walked off.

Almost as if it was a diversion planned beforehand, David Castañeda posted a picture on his Instagram of her and the attention was immediately shifted away of the awkward matter. People are now speculating whether or not the two of them are dating and while Henry thinks that is not the case, you simply never know. The public at least is already shipping them and Henry would lie if he didn’t think the two of them would be a great match.

Henry finally managed to drag himself out of his own house and he is now at his parents. He did ask them if they couldn’t ask about Adelaide, since he would like to forget about the situation and so far, they thankfully honored his wishes.

She continues to feed him with extra little cupcakes and cookies and normally he would politely decline, but now he eats like he hasn’t eaten for days. He goes to the gym a whole lot nowadays, to get his mind of the whole Adelaide situation, so he doesn’t really care.

‘Okay, dear, I know you are still sad, but it has been four weeks,’ his mom says, as she places her hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. So much for not mentioning Adelaide. ‘You released the statement, you let go of your old management and you are keeping your side of the bargain. You are not texting her, you are not mentioning her. Yes, you hurt her, but you have learned from this.’

‘I know, I know.’ He rubs his face and looks up at his mom. ‘I just can’t believe I did this.’

‘Me neither,’ his dad mumbles. ‘I thought we taught you better than that.’

This hurts, but Henry deserves this. ‘You did.’

His dad sits up straight on the couch and stares at him, without even saying anything to him. No matter how old Henry is, that still makes him nervous. ‘You better have learned from this, Henry, because I’m rather disappointed in you.’

◎ ◎ ◎

2 months after the livestream

◎ ◎ ◎

5 months after the livestream

Henry managed to get his life kinda back to how it was pre-Adelaide. He has found himself a new agency and a wonderful agent, Julia, who managed to get him a great new role in a sci-fi movie. The filming process went great and he loved to be on set again.

Right now he is on his first press tour for the movie he did before the Celebrity Project ‘The Royal Heist’ with Anne Hathaway as his co-star.

Of course he still thinks about Adelaide, he thinks about her quite often as a matter of fact. He watches her interviews, he sometimes sees a picture of her on his Instagram explore page. Sometimes it’s a picture she posted herself, sometimes it’s a picture posted by David or someone else from the crew or a fan account.

It’s hard sometimes, not to think about her. Occasionally he wakes up un the middle of the night, thinking about her and seeing her laugh flash in front of his eyes. He realizes that of course he misses her, but it’s for the best they both move on without one another. From the looks of it, she is absolutely glowing and for that he is forever grateful. He feared she would blame herself, maybe completely hide herself, but she doesn’t. She has flourished and is not afraid to show it to the entire world. During her interviews she seems relaxed and makes a joke every now and then.

Henry sits next to Anne, as they are about to answer some questions about the new movie. The two of them joke around a bit, as Anne just recently discovered the wonders of Snapchat filters. It’s nice to have fun and not feel guilty as he did before. When he witnessed Adelaide having fun and being happy again, he felt it was okay for him to do so as well.

The questions about the movie are pretty basic, but after a while the interviewer seems less nervous than when he started. However, him feeling more confident, might have given him the impression he can actually ask questions he really shouldn’t be asking.

‘After the Celebrity Project, have you and Adelaide Park cleared the air with one another?’

Henry clenches his jaw. He wants to say a lot to this man. How he should mind his own fucking business, how Henry is going to rearrange his face for asking such thing, but then he remembers what Adelaide wanted from him.

He managed to do so for five months and he will not quit. Not now. ‘I thought my agent told you before hand I will not answer any Celebrity Project related questions.’

The interviewer doesn’t seem to care and continues to ask questions about how Adelaide was in real life, what they did when the camera’s were off and what he would do to make it up to the actress.

While he is nearly exploding with rage and anger, Anne manages to divert the conversation and when the end is near, Henry doesn’t thank the interviewer. He simply gets up to go outside for a fresh breath of air. The second he is outside, he takes a deep breath. Turned out he maybe wasn’t over Adelaide as much as he thought he was.

Henry grabs his phone and does something he hasn’t done for a while now. He goes to her account and checks the pictures. He sees the amount of David Castañeda related posts, so he goes to the actor’s page, where he sees excess of Adelaide pictures. She looks radiant and beautiful.

‘You okay?’ Anne asks, as she walks out of the building to stand next to him.

‘Yeah, I’m okay,’ he says, closing off Instagram and pushing his phone back into his pocket. ‘I made a promise and I wanted to keep that one.’

‘You did,’ she says with a smile. ‘Really, don’t let that idiot get to you. Weirdly enough, this is his job and you did well. As a thank you for diffusing the situation, you can buy me a coffee later today. Now, let’s go back inside. I’m wearing a flimsy bra and I don’t want the entire world to know I’m freezing.’

◎ ◎ ◎

8 months after the livestream

It has been eight whole months after the livestream and Henry finally thinks he is actually over the entire situation. The Royal Heist is nominated for an award, just like he was for his role in the movie. The rude interviewer three months ago was the last one to bring up Adelaide and thankfully he was, because Henry might’ve thrown some punches if someone asked about it.

He runs his hand over his black velvet jacket, before Anne stands next to him and says: ‘Maybe you should frown a little less.’

‘I’m not frowning,’ he says with a smile. ‘Just concentrated.’

‘Thus frowning.’

The two of them are guided by some very nervous assistants, who are managing the photo opts. And while he is slightly distracted by Anne and her embarrassing stories about other red carpets events, the commands of the paparazzi are becoming louder and louder and it gains his attention.

‘Adelaide, look over here! You look beautiful!’ Henry stretches out his neck and sees Adelaide Park, looking beautiful as ever.

The white dress she wears hugs her figure nicely and the matching heels create the illusion her legs are endless. Her long blonde hair, probably lengthened by extensions, is pulled together in a fancy ponytail.

Henry thought he was doing pretty well over the past months, thinking he was over her, but seeing her in real life… It makes him realize him being over her was all pretend. He can’t forget her.

Adelaide Park is the love of his life.

Fuck, what a moment to come to that realization.

He watches closely as David Castañeda stands next to her as he joins her. He plays her love interest in the movie, the man that has been all over her Instagram and the same man who she has done multiple interviews with. David looks like a nice guy, who seems a great friend to Adelaide.

David places his hand on her waist and together they pose for the camera. It’s weird seeing her like this. This at ease with someone else. When Henry met her, she was tense with stress, but that all disappeared. Of course he kept track of her, mostly to see how she was doing.

And she was blossoming and still is.

Henry watched their new movie, ‘Warm Up Period’ and it was an amazing romantic comedy, one of the best he has ever seen. Adelaide sure has a way of acting in these types of movies. It was all part of the job of course, he knows that, but he couldn’t push away those jealous thoughts he experienced when he watched their more intimate scenes. It’s all pretend—he knows that—but he could feel their connection through the screen. The way David touched her bare back, how the camera zoomed in on the goosebumps on her skin, the kisses they shared.

It was enough to make him green with jealousy.

‘You haven’t heard one single bit of what I was telling,’ Anne Hathaway concludes and he quickly looks at her. ‘You’re still not over her, aren’t you?’

He doesn’t know what to say. ‘I’m just happy to see she’s doing good,’ he eventually says, while still looking at her. Maybe she senses that someone is gawking at her, because she looks to the side, but he quickly looks away.

That’s what she wanted from him. If he saw her before she saw him, he should walk away.

◎ ◎ ◎

Afterparties aren’t really Henry’s thing, but he feels obligated to stay, especially after he won ‘Best Actor’. Other actors congratulate him as he makes his way through the hall and he puts on a brave face, but in all honesty: he is feeling miserable.

From a distance, he sees Adelaide standing all by herself. He could simply do it, he thinks to himself. He could walk up to her and talk to her. If she doesn’t want him there, he’ll understand and walk away.

Reluctantly, he walks up to her and when he is close enough for her to hear him, he takes a deep breath. He really is going to do this… ‘Hi Adelaide,’ he gently says to her.

She looks up, her eyes enlarging when she realizes it’s him. From up close she is even more beautiful. She looks breathtakingly gorgeous with blonde hair, but he misses the way her light brown hair made her look. It reminds him of a time where things were simpler and better.

Adelaide blinks a few times and says: ‘Hi,’ in a soft tone.

He missed hearing her voice. ‘If you don’t want to talk to me, just say so. I was just wondering how you’ve been.’

She clears her throat, as she studies his face. ‘I’m good,’ she answers and he lets out a sigh of relief. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m okay,’ he says, but his voice is telling otherwise. He is not okay, he is an utter mess. He just became a bit better at hiding it over the past couple of month.

She must sense that too, because she frowns for a split second. ‘Congratulations,’ she tells him and it sounds sincere. Of course it sounds sincere, the words come from Adelaide herself, the embodiment of sincerity. ‘The movie was really good and you deserved to win best actor. You were great.’

‘Thank you,’ he says. Henry can’t believe he used to be so comfortable around her and now he’s getting heart palpitations simply by looking at her. ‘You look amazing, Adelaide.’

She nods. ‘Thank you.’ She takes a sip of her champagne and purses her lips for a brief moment, probably thinking about what she can say. ‘I heard you turned down James Bond.’

Henry nods. ‘Yes, I did. I didn’t want to be part of that franchise.’

‘Was it because of me?’ she asks.

He sighs. ‘Well, I think you were part of my decision. I think I should thank you.’

Adelaide simply nods. ‘Right.’

Henry knows he shouldn’t do it, but he can’t stop himself. ‘Adelaide, I’m so terribly sorry for everything I did. I know I hurt you and it pains me every single day to know I betrayed your trust. Trust I didn’t even deserve in the first place.’

She simply shakes her head. ‘Please don’t do this, Henry. It’s all okay.’

‘No, it’s not okay,’ he tells her, taking a step closer to her, while still maintaining an appropriate distance from her. She doesn’t step back and from the looks of it, she actually is open to what he has to say to her, so he better make it worth while. ‘You had every right to be as mad as you were and I totally understand. I was just hoping that maybe we can talk about it, clear the air, so we can be in the same room together.’

Adelaide blinks her eyes a few times. ‘Really?’

‘Really,’ he confirms. ‘And if you don’t want to, I respect that. Just wanted to at least have suggested the idea to you.’

She nods. ‘Okay, just not here.’

‘Of course not,’ he quickly says. ‘How about we do coffee tomorrow? I know a nice place around here. They have nice cappuccino’s. If you want to of course. Maybe you want to meet up somewhere else, that’s fine with me.’

She shakes her head. ‘Coffee tomorrow is good,’ she says. Her eyes are brighter than the first few moments he started to talk to her. That’s a good sign, right?

Henry nods, as he counts his blessings, thankful that she actually agrees to this idea. ‘Good, good.’

Her co-star David walks over to the two of them and stands next to Adelaide. ‘Hi,’ he says when his eyes fall on Henry, holding out his hand. ‘Congratulations, man. I loved the movie and you were great. Very well deserved.’

‘Oh, thank you,’ he says with a smile, because David’s friendliness is contagious.

David places his hand on Adelaide waist. ‘Ready to go? Our limo is ready.’

Adelaide tears her gaze away from Henry and meets David’s eyes. She smiles at her co-star, in a way only she can do. This shouldn’t make him jealous, not after all these months they spend apart.

But seeing her this close to someone other than him, confirms what he thought earlier that night.

He missed her more than he originally figured.

‘I am,’ she tells David. ‘Henry, I’ll see you tomorrow then. You still have my number?’

As if he would erase her number. Ever. ‘I do.’

‘Text me a time and address and I’ll be there.’ She sends him a soft smile, before turning around. She walks off to the exit with David, his hand still in the dip her waist.

Henry stares after the pair, as his blood boils with rage and jealousy.

But he shouldn’t be. He can’t be.

Besides, the most important thing is: he is going to talk with Adelaide Park, face to face. He quickly looks over the crowd, to see if he can find Anne, so he can say his goodbye and go to his hotelroom to prepare, because this might be his only chance to make things right between him and Adelaide.

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 24

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger!

Keeping busy makes the day go by.

Martin and Jon discuss household chores.

Martin took great care to not make too much noise as he walked down the stairs. He still avoided the creakiest steps, and down he went as quiet as the house would allow.

He didn’t wonder whether the night before had been a dream. His dreams weren’t like that, so vivid and specific. They weren’t narratives he could make sense of, if he remembered them at all. On waking, he was usually left with the anxious certainty that he had made a horrible mistake or had forgotten to do something important. But that night had been real.

Still, when he made it to the ground floor he peeked in the downstairs toilet to make sure Jon’s clothes were hanging on the shower rod along with the small bag he’d been carrying. Those items were present. What he didn’t find was the seal skin.

Martin continued to the living room door. Curled up into a tight ball, Jon remained buried in the blanket and couch cushions. Martin let loose the breath he’d been holding. He continued on to the kitchen to make his breakfast in silence.

It was nothing to dwell on. Jon must’ve stowed the coat somewhere while Martin was asleep. They hadn’t known each other that long, so it wouldn’t do to keep something so important openly hanging in the shower when Jon had had such a scare with the thing. He’d trusted Martin enough to tell him the truth. It didn’t matter that Jon had squirreled the skin away in the dead of night.

Had Jon believed what he’d said about his mother leaving? Was it suspicious that she was gone?

Toast popped up hot and ready, making him jump. He looked back into the living room, checking if the noise had been enough to wake Jon, but the man was sound asleep in his little cocoon. Perhaps all of the caution wasn’t necessary with someone who was sleeping well for the first time in weeks. Longer, if his habit of calling without any thought to the time was any indication. 

He should’ve checked on Jon. Even if he hadn’t had reason to suspect anything it’s what he would’ve appreciated in Jon’s place. Just because he hadn’t felt like making the effort-

Would it have helped, though, if Tim and Sasha were ready to cover things up? What excuse could they have given except that Jon had lost his mobile or switched numbers and hadn’t given out his new one yet? He hadn’t had a real reason to pry into Jon’s business. A barely established friendship didn’t count.

He could have tried anyway. Hopefully letting Jon stay would make up for it, even if there was no bed to offer.

While he wasn’t against letting him use his own bed in theory, Martin knew he was too bloody tall to sleep comfortably on the old couch all night. If things went on long enough it could be discussed, but it was better for both of them to get sleep.

Hers didn’t count.

Thinking that far ahead wouldn’t do any good, so he pushed his mess of thoughts to one side and focused on eating breakfast and scribbling onto a small piece of paper.

‘Jon,

Help yourself to food. Be back in the evening.

-Martin’

Martin considered the note for a moment, then scribbled his number at the bottom. 

‘For emergencies.’

What emergencies he could help with he couldn’t say, but he left his number all the same. The chance of Jon having it memorized was slim to none and it wouldn’t have been fair to keep Jon with no contact at all. It was the best excuse Martin could hope for.

He gently laid his plate in the sink in one final attempt to keep the silence, and got ready to leave.

--

Jon didn’t call him at any point that day. And rightly so, following prior agreements of safety and secrecy. It was fine, no calls meant no emergencies, but as the hours passed it was easy to forget the outside world and its greater goings-on. The window on the front door wasn’t much of a reminder, not with how tiny and far away it was, and not with the crappy weather blocking any light other than what could seep through the endless grey. 

The wall clock was placed in an awkward location from where he sat, so timekeeping felt like guesswork. He’d stopped checking the clock often to avoid the disappointment of finding himself only five minutes closer to leaving. It could be any day of the week if he kept his mobile out of sight. 

But he could feel lunch time. He could feel when he was to climb the stairs and complete his tasks by muscle memory. And he knew in his bones when he was meant to leave.

In the dark of the evening the timelessness clung to him. It wasn’t until he got to the bottom of the cliffs and saw the windows lit up from the inside of his home that he felt himself settle back into the present. There was a person in his house, and for a while he stood back by the forest path and stared at the little square of light that was his kitchen window. 

He felt like an intruder, a spy peering in through his own kitchen window from afar, and it took a particularly large gust of rain-splattering wind in his face to get him moving again.

It was his house. There was just a person in it other than himself.

The smell of cooked food was the first thing he noticed when he walked inside, even before he saw the small and scuffed brown shoes on the rug, or the thin jacket on the end hook he normally used. Something was being cooked, fried, and he spent a minute on the front rug not knowing how to proceed.

From the kitchen, he heard a tentative, “Martin? Is that you?”

“Oh! Yeah, it’s me.” Finally placing the damned coat somewhere, he slipped off his shoes and walked toward the kitchen. 

Jon peeked his head through the kitchen doorway, wariness falling from his face as he saw Martin for himself. “Barely heard the door open over the wind outside. How were things today?”

“Fine, I guess? What’s-” Martin looked over Jon’s head and saw a pan hissing on the stove, alongside a boiling pot of water. “What’re you making?”

“Something easy and not made of fish,” Jon replied, heading toward the stove top. “Hope you don’t mind, I used some of the chicken in the freezer and box pasta. Should be enough for the both of us.”

Head running on empty, Martin could only nod and take a seat at the kitchen table, threading and unthreading his fingers in front of him. It felt wrong to be sitting there in his own kitchen without a task, but Jon had already put in the time and effort to make dinner. Still, his hands were painfully idle in his lap.

He said quietly, “Smells good.”

From the stove, Jon raised an eyebrow but kept his eyes on the pan in front of him. “I’d hope so. Can’t go much more basic than this.” He lifted the pan to show breaded chicken frying away.

“Still, it’s nice of you. Thanks.”

“Mm.” He flipped the stove off and went to strain the noodles. “Anyway, now that I’m awake, thank you for letting me stay the night. Hopefully this helps make up for my sudden appearance.” 

“It’s no trouble. Would’ve liked more warning, though.”

Jon frowned. “Well… I would’ve called if I could.”

It didn’t feel like a purposeful accusation, but it stung anyway. “Can’t change things now. Speaking of calling, though… Did you want me to get in touch with Tim or Sasha about this? I know you said you wanted to wait until they were here, but I don’t know when that’ll be.” 

“No, not yet.” Jon placed a strainer full of noodles back over the pot and leaned against the counter. “Call me over-cautious, but I don’t trust anything traceable right now. I’d considered calling Georgie over your phone line to pass on a message, but I don’t think her going in a second time would fly under the radar.”

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Martin said, “So until they get here…”

“Until then, I’d like to stay here. We can explain things to Tim and Sasha, figure out your situation, and then-” His face fell. “I’m not sure what comes after that.”

In the silence that followed, Jon busied himself with assembling two plates of food, turned in such a way that Martin couldn’t see his expression. It was an uncomfortable quiet that ate away at the composure he’d managed to pull together throughout the work day. 

When Jon set the plate down in front of him, he jumped in his seat.

Jon’s brows scrunched together. “Are you all right?”

“Just… tired, is all.”

“Right. So-” Jon set his own plate down and sat on the other side of the table, a perfectly natural choice of seating. “We didn’t talk for long last night. I know part of what you’re going through isn’t- it’s not by business, but if I’m going to help then I need to know if you’ve noticed any changes, with the lighthouse or with- with other things.”

Martin stared down at his dinner. It was plain, breaded chicken with noodles. Smelled a bit of lemon and garlic. 

“Everything’s fine. Nothing’s changed besides what you already know.” 

It was fine. The taste was about what he would’ve expected from the smell, and it was better than anything he’d been planning to make with his remaining energy. It was a nice thing for Jon to do. He forced each bite down through the sting of his throat.

“It tastes all right?” Jon asked casually. 

Martin nodded with a raise of his eyebrows, taking another bite of chicken.

“Good. I’m not out of practice.” 

After that, the only sounds remaining were those of clinking silverware and the beating of rain on the kitchen window.

It should’ve been nice, but as Martin ate the pain in his throat only grew, spreading through his head and upper chest. It was nice that Jon had made dinner, and he’d kept it simple enough that even Martin could pay it back in the future. Something as tiny as this shouldn’t have made him feel anything other than full. Instead his head pounded behind his eyes.

“You… You don’t have to eat it,” Jon said. When Martin looked up he was met with an expression of mild exasperation. “It’s fine if you don’t like it. I’m not holding you at gunpoint. Though if I’m going to be living here we should probably settle what we each don’t like.”

“What?” God, that wasn’t a pleasant sound, especially with food still in his mouth. Martin swallowed down hard, realized he had nothing to drink, and stood up. “I need some water. You?”

Thrown off somewhat, Jon sputtered, “N- Well, yes, but-”

“Great.” Martin strode across the kitchen and grabbed two glasses from the cabinet to fill in the sink. As he held one under the faucet, he noticed there were no dirty dishes underneath.

From behind he could hear Jon shift in his chair. “It’s really not a big deal if you don’t like it.”

With two full glasses he returned to the table, taking a sip of his own and then setting them both down. “What is? No, right, yeah, dinner tastes fine. Don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Martin, that’s not very convincing when you were just staring at it like it was a lump of mud.”

“I wasn’t-” He took his seat and reached internally for some excuse with no luck. What kind of faces had he been making? Reaching for his fork, he said, “It’s fine. Good. It’s good.”

“There’s something else, then.”

“I… The food is good. It was very nice of you to make it.” His throat went tight and he said no more.

Frowning at his meal, Jon said defeatedly, “Okay. If you say so.”

The rest of the meal passed in silence. If he made any other sour faces then Jon ignored them, and Martin did his best to be more aware of what his eyes and mouth were doing while eating as quickly as he could manage. 

It wasn’t soon enough, but he finally finished and put his plate in the sink. God, he’d barely gotten home and was ready to run upstairs and hide away for the night. Was eating dinner with someone always so exhausting? The answer came easily to mind, but this felt worse than meals spent with stubborn silence or bitter exchanges. 

Jon had wanted to be nice, and-

“So, we should discuss… things. Not the food-” Jon said from directly behind him, dirty dishes in hand. He inched around Martin to place them in the sink. “-but we need to talk about how it’s going to work, me being here. I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

Martin cleared his throat, taking a step to the side to give Jon some room. “You’re not a nuisance. You didn’t have much of a choice in this, if any.”

“And you didn’t ask to have me knocking in your door. Here, let me-” Jon rolled up his sleeves and got to work scrubbing the dishes.

Martin bristled. “You don’t have to-”

“I’m the one who made dinner.”

Martin’s face scrunched. “I don’t think that’s how it works. You made dinner, so I should clean up.” He watched with some irritation as Jon continued his task.

“Next time, then. I already got a head start this morning.”

An even better reason for Martin to be the one to wash up after dinner, but that ship had sailed without him apparently. 

“Look, I’m-” He pushed through the tightness in his chest. “I’m glad you’re here, all right? Better than you getting eaten by a shark or something.” 

Jon squinted at him. “So… we’re fine?”

“What? Yeah, ‘course we’re fine!” In spite of everything, a laugh crept into Martin’s voice. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

A troubled look crossed Jon’s face. “No, you’re right. The last few weeks got to me I think, not seeing people.” 

With some hesitation, Jon continued, “If it makes you feel better, I’m glad to have something to do.” He paused, sudsy glass in his hand. “Sitting around all day doesn’t come naturally to me, and I’ve been all but useless for weeks.”

Ah. Martin felt the indignation seep out of his jaw and shoulders, leaving him rather deflated all of a sudden. All that bristling on his part and Jon had only been bored to the point of doing chores.

“That’s... not your fault,” Martin replied quietly. He leaned back against the counter top and tapped his fingers on the rounded edges. “But okay. Sorry.”

Resuming the job at hand, Jon kept his eyes down and stayed quiet. There wasn’t much to wash off of the plates, but he was diligent in scrubbing down the frying pan until not a speck of grease remained. His fingertips began to prune.

Eventually, he spoke up. “As I was saying before, we should talk about me staying here because of situations like this. If you have… particularities with housekeeping, I should know.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “It’s not a- whatever, do what you like. I suppose it’s better to live with someone who keeps clean.”

“As much as the average person,” Jon said, rinsing off the last bit of soap from a plate. He reached out to grab a hand towel. “Don’t expect me to always be this eager for chores.”

“What, is the excitement wearing off already?” He’d been aiming for a light, teasing tone but ended with dry judgment.

“You know me, always looking for the next thrill,” he deadpanned.

Martin leaned back on the heels of his hands. “Jon, you’re a professional ghost hunter.”

Jon tossed the towel back onto the sink. “I am not. I research the paranormal and complete necessary field work.”

“By looking for static in recordings and breaking into buildings.”

“That’s not- your situation is a special case. I assure you, my regular days are based almost entirely around paperwork and fact-checking.” He walked into the living room and with a scowl plopped onto the couch. After a moment his mouth untwisted into a small frown. “They were, anyway.”

Martin followed behind and looked at him, looked at the lines on his forehead and under his eyes, at his bouncing knee. He looked better than he had the day before, but it would take more than a single good night to make up for weeks of wandering and disconnection. Another apology sat behind his own lips, but he let it die as the useless thing it was. 

There was one thing he could help with. Walking over to the ancient desk in the corner, he picked up a bulky old laptop from the drawer and brought it over to the couch with him. “Probably should’ve mentioned it in the note, but I do have wi-fi. Technically.” 

The laptop was old. He’d bought it for himself years back but with the weak signal he got it wasn’t easy to deal with, and in his mind the very concept of social media was never going to work for him. So, it was largely a clunky and underused alternative to his phone. It sat heavy on his lap and he remembered why he rarely bothered with it.

Jon’s eyebrows shot up, and he scooted closer on the seat. Voice dripping with relief, he said, “I’m shocked you can get a signal down here.” 

The sudden proximity made Martin’s heart skip. He opened the computer on his lap and focused on the screen. “Mind you it’s not good wi-fi, but it should help pass the time. Still has a disc drive as well.”

It took far longer than he would’ve liked for the thing to boot up, but against all odds it reached the desktop with its default background and sparse folders. He really hadn’t done much with the thing, had he? Perhaps when everything was done with he could sell it.

For the time being, though, Jon was clearly itching to get his hands on it, so after a quick check that it still connected to the internet he passed it over. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that he immediately hopped onto a site for sifting through journal articles, but Martin stifled a laugh. Whether pushed by professional diligence or personal interest, Jon was too engrossed to notice. 

With a small sense of accomplishment, Martin pushed himself onto his feet and moved toward the hall. He made it halfway across the room before he was noticed.

“You’re not going to bed already.” 

The tone of the sentence sat between incredulity and a statement of fact, and it gave Martin pause. When he glanced back, Jon was still looking at the laptop screen. 

“I mean… no, I was just going to get into pyjamas?”

“Okay. There was a short documentary on architecture I found when I was still doing research at my flat. It might be helpful to our ends.” He typed something and made a face. “It might also be complete bunk, but I should be able to track it down while you’re upstairs.”

It was enough of a dismissal that Martin could only say, “Oh. Um, all right?” Then he left the room in a hurry, as he apparently had things to do that night.

Back upstairs he went with a new if unexpected purpose to change out of his work clothes, still skipping the loudest steps as best he could.

Around the time he’d managed to slip on some flannel pyjama pants and an old t-shirt, tears had leaked from his eyes and then ceased almost immediately. There were no sobs to choke back, just streaks of warmth on his cheeks that dried as quickly as they’d formed.

He rubbed his face with the back of his hand, grateful that his eyes wouldn’t be red and puffy, and then walked back downstairs.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef (Part 1)

Part 2 ->

For @thatesqcrush​​​’s Holiday Bingo! Filling the Grinch/Scrooge square

Bryan Kneef x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW. No smut, just a... situation in which Bryan has zero sense of shame. Honestly it’s straight-up workplace sexual harassment. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

1,576 words

Festive lights were strung around the offices of STR Laurie, but their merry glow added no holiday cheer to the hearts of all of those forced to come into work on Christmas Eve. Everyone was supposed to have the day off, or at least get a half-day. However, the sun was setting over the Chicago skyline, and at least a dozen paralegals were still frantically toiling over the enormous workload dumped on them last minute by one Bryan Kneef.

It didn’t seem like a particularly important case or a particularly critical motion, but according to Mr. Kneef, it was worthy of an all-hands-on-deck situation that would make as many employees as possible miss dinner with their families.

In fact, as you glared over the top of your monitor at his office—the curtains drawn and the lights dimmed within—you were pretty sure he wasn’t even working on this “important” case. He was probably fucking napping. This was all some sadistic Scrooge-like tactic to make everyone miserable just because he didn’t have anywhere to be tonight.

As the angled light streaming in through the window turned dusky orange with no end to the work in sight, you’d had enough. You stood up, marched across the office, and barged through Mr. Kneef’s door without knocking, certain you were going to catch him with his eyes closed on the couch.

Instead, you caught him behind his desk, furiously masturbating to porn.

He stopped, but unlike a decent human being who would yelp in surprise and frantically sputter apologies for being caught dick-in-hand, he wasn’t startled by your entrance and made no particular hurry to cover himself. He clicked a button on the keyboard, and the rhythmic sounds of moaning stopped.

His eyebrows raised at you impatiently as if you’d interrupted him on a phone call.

You slammed the door behind you—the rest of the office didn’t need to hear this.

“What the fuck, Mr. Kneef? This case is so important we have to work through fucking Christmas, and you’re in here jerking off?”

“Your point?”

“Fuck you!”

His lips pushed up into an excessive frown that made his beard bristle, and he raised his brows, not disagreeing and seemingly impressed with your audacity.

“Fine. Come here.” He patted his lap, smirking, legs spread wide in his leather chair. His semi-hard cock was still sitting naked and pink outside his deep navy dress pants.

Now he’d crossed the line into making your skin crawl.

“OK, I’m calling HR.”

He scoffed and tucked himself back into his pants. “You said fuck me.”

He wasn’t swayed by your threat to report him—what was important was that you had been the first to blink. You didn’t really look offended, anyway. If you had blushed like a nun and hidden your eyes when you walked in on him, he wouldn’t have been so provocative (he wasn’t a complete monster). If you had fucking knocked, you wouldn’t have walked in on anything. But you had the balls to barge in and dress down your superior. The number-one asshole of the firm was not about to let you challenge him and win.

You closed your eyes and tried to compose yourself, ignoring the flush of heat surging behind your ribs and pooling between your legs from his sleazy request. Ew—body, what? Don’t be gross.

“So. You have a problem with the work I’ve assigned you?” He set his elbow on the table and rested his beard in his hand. His voice was as casually mocking as ever, as if this whole situation was perfectly normal.

“Yeah. It’s bullshit. We’d all like to go home if this motion isn’t so vitally pressing it can’t wait until Monday.”

“I see.”

“Don’t you have anywhere to be?”

There was a twitch in his face at that. He tried to remain as callous and inscrutable as ever, but the question revealed a tension that wasn’t obvious before. Beside his computer was a bottle of Scotch and an almost-empty glass. Next to that was a small rectangular box, neatly wrapped with shiny silver paper and a gold bow. He glanced down at it, and he looked, for a brief instant, sad.

He wasn’t so intimidating when his cold eyes turned pitiful like that. Almost like he was human.

In contrast to his distasteful personality, his eyes were a beautiful, delicate green even in the dim light. It was enough to make you admit how handsome the lawyer was—the dark beard, the flecks of silver streaking through his flawlessly-styled hair. If he turned out to have actual human feelings beneath the swagger, you might even like him.

You sat down in the small chair opposite him at his desk. His eyes had already retaken their cold, mocking air, but you tried appealing to the hypothetical inner-human in him anyway. “Do you have any Christmas traditions? A family you want to see? You must at least remember being a kid—how special the holidays are at that age. Dana has two kids waiting at home, and this is the only time of year Paul gets to see his nephews.”

“You think I give a shit about sob stories? They have a job to do. If they don’t like it, they can quit.”

“Fine”—Screw playing nice—“How about this: I can call HR about the porn on your work computer.”

He glowered back at you, appraising the sincerity of your threat. “The whole HR department is eating turkey right now. So, you can file a complaint on Monday. Maybe I get a warning? Won’t help you tonight. Sorry, sweetheart. Finish the motion, you can go home.” His piercing eyes stared at you, waiting. “Will that be all?”

Instead of retreating in an indignant huff as he full-well expected you to do, you shoved aside a handful of papers and the Scotch bottle to clear a spot on his desk, and sat on it so you were looking down on him, thoroughly invading his personal space. “What do you want? Why are you doing this? Don’t pretend it isn’t out of spite. Let me guess… you didn’t want to spend another Christmas alone getting sad-drunk on expensive whisky, so you decided to do this instead of pick up a hooker?”

He glared harshly but otherwise didn’t react.

“How about this? I’ll take one for the team and go drinking with you—just tell everyone else they can go home, Ebenezer.”

He rolled his eyes contemptuously and explained in no uncertain terms that that was not going to happen. But maybe it was your flirtatious body language, or the stubborn way you refused to back down, or that you weren’t intimidated by him like every other subordinate around here. Maybe he was just lonely. But you were irritating in a way he liked. And just desperate enough to do him a favor.

“If we left together, we would not be going out drinking,” he growled.

You rightly mistook it for an invitation to bed—because he deliberately intoned it as such to rile you up, so when you spat, “Fuck you!” he could feign innocent victimhood.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said. “I do have somewhere to be tonight—a family dinner. If you are serious about wanting to get me out of here, that’s where we’d go.” Of course, if you’d jumped at the offer to fuck him, he would have accepted that, too.

Now you were just confused. “You want… to take me to meet your parents? Why…?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, already kicking himself for what he was about to tell you. But fuck it. You would have to find out if you were going to help, and he could use you and your massive balls to solve his little dilemma. Ovaries? Yeah. Your big brass ovaries.

“My parents are expecting me to show up with my long-term girlfriend. They have been... annoyingly eager to meet her tonight, and she just fucking dumped me.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Being dumped sucked. Not that you’d ever take it out on a dozen coworkers, but assholes grieve differently. “How long were you together?”

“Three months.”

You blinked. “Oh my god, that is not a long-term relationship. Jesus, what standard are you going by? One-night stands?”

He bristled at the question, and you had a distinct impression that—yeah—the comparison was one-night stands.

“Irrelevant. I don’t want to spend the entire night fielding questions about what happened, sitting through my dad’s relationship advice, and dodging pitying glances.”

“So you invented a work emergency. Classy. Never thought I’d see the great Bryan Kneef, lady killer, on his knees over someone he dated for three months.

“I am not broken up about it,” he snapped. “I just don’t want to deal with the bullshit from my family. So, you want to get out of here? Pretend to be my date for a few hours. You don’t have a problem lying, do you? We can break up after New Year’s. Deal?”

“You’ll let everyone else go home?”

He protested and made a counter-offer, but after much bargaining and negotiation, he finally gave in and agreed to your terms.

And that was how you saved Christmas and became the unsung hero of the entire office. None of your coworkers would know the sacrifice you made for them, the awkward dinner you had to endure, or all of the illuminating secrets you would learn that night about the biggest asshole at the firm.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: 

@beccabarba​ / @caked-crusader​ / @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ / @thatesqcrush​ / @dianilaws​ / @permanentlydizzy​ / @mrsrafaelbarba​ / @madamsnape921​ / @astrangegirlsmind​

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Tteokkboki

A/n: This goes from super fluffy and cute to REAL smutty halfway through, but this is a little commission for @sweetwritertanya​ because she’s an angel.

Summary: Jungkook falls for a waitress at a tteokkboki restaurant, and she isn’t sure if they’re just friends or not.

Warnings: fluff and just a whole lotta smut, chubby!reader, virgin!Jungkook, girl on top, vaginal fingering, some mention of male masturbation, Jungkook just really wants to love reader and all her curves, protected sex

Word Count: 3413

Namjoon mentions it first, how Jungkook is suddenly all focus, quiet all the time, holing up in his room. 

"What's going on with you?" He asks, after the third time in a row Jungkook barely picks at his food.

Jungkook shrugs. “Nothing.”

He keeps saying nothing even when Namjoon asks again because he isn't quite sure how to say he thinks he might be lovesick and he barely knows your name.

You work at a tteokbokki restaurant near his gym, and the first time he saw you he almost choked to death.

It was so simple, just the curve of your upper arm in his peripheral vision. Your skin looked so soft and it drew his eyes up to your face before he even knew it.

You smiled almost immediately and he feels his cheeks burn as he tries not to choke on his water.

Hoseok orders as if nothing's amiss, and then gives Jungkook a curious look when he clears his throat and mumbles an order.

"You okay, Kook?"

Jungkook can only nod fervently, keeping his eyes trained on the table and drawing in a sharp breath when your hand brushes his when you take the menus.

That'd been it, he'd barely spoken to you, going to eat tteokbokki so often he was sick of it. He learned your name from the receipts he got, traced his fingers over it, practicing the syllables out loud as if he'd ever get the courage to introduce himself.

Jungkook can't rightly say he'd developed a type, after all it isn't as if he has a whole wealth of experience to choose from, just a couple stolen kisses in high school at the lockers.

But now?

He seeks out pictures of girls with your body type, can't ever find anyone with exactly your curves, how soft your skin looks, the thickness of your thighs in slacks.

He can't help himself from looking up nudes, scrolling down to obscure her face, his skin hot, hand scrabbling at his fly as he sits at his laptop.

He'd be ashamed if he didn't daydream just as often of just your hand in his, fingers curling into his palm, your easy smile, head tilted up, how he'd kiss the tip of your chin, the corner of your mouth.

Jungkook asks the hostess politely if he can sit in your section, every time, and every time he has grand plans to tell you his name, maybe even be so bold as to write his number under the big tip he always leaves on the credit card receipt.

All he ever manages is a mumbled order, drumming his fingers on the table and shredding the paper of his straw. 

It's you who speaks first, as he's signing the receipt and gnawing on his bottom lip, wondering if he should at least draw a smiley face, and he startles so much his pen jerks onto the table, leaving a stray mark.

"You don't have to leave so much!" You protest.

"I-I...I really like...the service here," he sputters, and your bright smile doesn't much help the flush of his cheeks.

"Jungkook, right?"

He just started at you for a long moment with surely an idiotic, dreamy expression on his face, unable to fight his smile.

"It's on your receipts. You're my only regular customer," you say quickly, and scrunch your nose in a way that is so cute his chest aches. "I don't think I'm very good at this."

"No," Jungkook breathes, unable to stand the slight frown on your face. "You're so good. The best, actually. The best waitress ever."

You giggle, a sound that makes him wonder if he's dreaming, and glance around to see the restaurant is almost empty before you sit down across from him.

Jungkook swallows hard, palms on the table because he doesn't know what to do with his hands.

"You're sweet," you say, smiling a little, looking away as if you're the one who's shy, and he can't bear it, can't stop himself from reaching out to touch your hand hesitantly.

"I mean it," he insists. 

You give him a smile that makes his heart nearly stop, but then the bell over the door rings and you're up and heading to busy yourself before he can say another word.

Jungkook feels emboldened by the conversation, scribbles something on the receipt before he can change his mind and bolts, leaving the restaurant before you come back over. 

He's halfway home before he realizes he's left his coat on the back of his chair, it takes that long before he feels the cold.

Jungkook goes to his room and rolls around on the bed, imagines you scoffing at his message, a scrawled "I think you're beautiful" with a stupid badly drawn heart and his phone number.

He throws his phone on the floor and buries his face in his pillow, certain you'd be absolutely disgusted, after all it was your job to be nice to him and surely guys hit on you all the time and what had he been thinking?

It's an hour later when his phone chimes and he falls off the bed with a thud to get to it.

😳 Thank you. Where should we meet up? You left your coat.

Jungkook whoops so loudly that Taehyung opens the door, peeks his head in to raise a thick brow at Jungkook lying on the floor and grinning at his phone.

Jungkook throws a pillow at him and Taehyung laughs and leaves him be.

It takes a full half hour before he can text you back, typing text after text before deleting them and settling on: The park near the restaurant? When is your shift over?

When you text back: Now, all the breath leaves his lungs in a rush.

He scrambles up, goes to the mirror and runs his hands through his hair, looks down at his wrinkled t-shirt and sweats and groans.

It would look too desperate and eager to change his clothes, wouldn't it?

When he picks up his phone he accidentally calls you and he wants to die when you pick up on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Oh, fuck," he mumbles, and brings the phone to his ear.

"Jungkook?"

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I shouldn't curse I...um...can you meet me at the park entrance in half an hour?"

"Sure thing." He hears the smile in your voice and it calms the hammering of his heartbeat.

"Um, okay. Thank you."

He hangs up. Thank you? What the fuck was that? How was he supposed to meet up with you outside of work when he can barely make words on a phone call?

Flustered, he all but runs out of the house despite Namjoon's protests that he needs a coat and he's freezing by the time he reaches the park.

He's fifteen minutes early and he sees you right away, sitting on a bench with your palms on the thick thighs he's been dreaming about, wearing a beanie and a scarf, cheeks rosy from the cold when you look up at him.

"H-hello." He manages, and you make a distressed sound in the back of your throat, bounding up and putting on his coat like he's a child.

You're rubbing your hands up and down his arms, so close he could lean down and kiss the top of your head and suddenly he isn't cold anymore.

You tsk. "Your teeth are chattering! Did you walk here?"

"I'm sorry," he says dumbly, struck by how near you are, how he's been daydreaming of this moment for weeks.

"Let's get coffee. Warm you up, yeah?"

You loop your arm through his and his head feels light when you tug him across the street to a nearby cafe.

Jungkook manages to fumble out his wallet when you order for yourself and him, paying despite your protests.

He's been hoping for this for so long but now that you're sitting next to him on the couch at the back of the cafe, your knee touching his, he can't think.

"Are you warmer now?" You ask, watching him sip his coffee, and he nods.

It's another moment before you speak again and your words make him take a bigger gulp than he'd intended, burning the roof of his mouth.

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

He nods again, more fiercely, but the way you're not looking at him directly, just from the corner of your eye makes him realize he needs words.

"I think you're so beautiful," he blurts earnestly, and you still don't look at him but the corner of your mouth turns up just a bit.

"You're my only regular. I figured maybe you just were so shy you didn't want to deal with a new server every time. Guys that look like you do don't...they don't like girls like me. Not like that, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Jungkook sits his coffee down on the table, pivots toward you, ignoring the thrill up his spine when his thigh touches yours.

"You obviously work out. I don't, much." 

You seem to curl in on yourself, making yourself smaller, and he frowns.

"So? I'm sure we have lots of other stuff in common…"

You look up at him and blink at him, and then laugh a little at his confused expression. 

"You're really not poking fun at me?"

"Wh-what? No! Never. I'm not... I don't really go on dates or talk to girls... women…"

He trails off miserably when you smile wider, face on fire, but you take his hand in yours, curling your fingers into his palm just like he'd imagined, and he loses his breath.

It's a few weeks before he gets to show you just how beautiful you are to him, and he can barely believe it's happening.

You're in his room, lying on your stomach on his bed and he's sitting on the floor, rifling through the vinyl albums he collected to show you when you say something that makes his hands still.

"Are we just friends?"

Jungkook hums nervously in the back of his throat but he can't find his voice, something tightening his chest.

"Kook?" You call when he doesn't answer, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment.

"Do...do you want to be just friends?" He asks, softly, and when you don't answer right away he turns and you're sitting up on the bed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I asked you," you insist, your mouth set in a hard line.

Jungkook swallows, opens his mouth, closes it again.

"We've been...hanging out now for what? A month?"

"Six weeks," he blurts, and flushes a bit.

You huff out a breath. "Six weeks. You never let me pay for dinner and you let me hold your hand...but you...you haven't kissed me and I just need to know if we're just friends or…" 

Jungkook's heart is thudding against his breastplate and he gets up on his knees in front of you.

"I don't...I don't want to be your friend."

Your expression doesn't change, but something flashes in your eyes. "No?"

Jungkook shakes his head. "I want to be more than friends," he confesses. "I want to…" He takes a deep breath, gingerly places his hands on your thighs, inwardly groans at how badly he wants to squeeze.

"You want to kiss me?" You ask softly, and put a hand in his hair, leaning forward just a bit, and Jungkook can't help the moan that comes from his throat.

His head is spinning like he'd been drinking wine all night even though he hadn't had a drop and when you lean in he surges up, nose bumping against yours a bit before he finds your mouth, and he doesn't bother with chaste, slips his tongue into your mouth hungrily and his right hand squeezes the soft flesh of your thigh almost involuntarily.

You make a low noise into his mouth and before he knows what he's doing he's climbing onto the bed, encouraged by your fingers gripped tight in his hair.

You're so soft, everywhere, all these curves instead of hard lines and he wants his hands all over you but he can't stop squeezing your inner thigh and when your legs part and you arch up off the bed a bit, he feels like all the blood leaves his head and he breaks from your mouth, panting just a bit.

"Y/n, I-I-" he stutters, but then you palm the front of his jeans and he forgets what he was going to say entirely.

"You want me, yeah?"

He looks down at your face, almost in wonder at your flushed cheeks, your glassy eyes, and nods, groaning and bucking against your hand.

"Want you so bad," he breathes, and you lean up to kiss him again and he can't think anymore, just following the ache in his belly and his cock.

Jungkook kisses your neck, right at your pulse, soft at first and then when you gasp, harder, sticking out his tongue to taste your skin.

"Do you have...do you have protection?" You ask in a husky voice and Jungkook thanks God for Jung Hoseok forcing a handful of condoms on to him, Taehyung and Jimin every break despite Jungkook's flushed cheeks and protests.

He leans up, almost mourning having to take his hands off you, and rummages around in his nightstand and finding a few to throw on the bed.

Jungkook wonders if he should tell you that he's never gotten past second base but you're shimmying out of your jeans and God, there's so much skin he wants to touch and kiss. As soon as you shuck them off his mouth attaches to the skin of your inner thigh and he sucks hard until you cry out and when he lifts his head the red mark he's left there makes him dizzy.

You're wearing these pale blue panties and they're almost transparent. He can't take his eyes off the crotch of them and when you tilt your hips up he moans against your thigh, places his palm against your sex and he can feel such heat against his palm that he chokes out your name.

You lean up, sliding your hand between your bodies to grab his cock through his jeans and fuck, he can't think when you do that, feels like if you rubbed even a bit he'd cum in his pants like a teenager so he takes your hand, pins your wrists above your head with one hand so that he can keep touching you with the other.

He slides his hand down the waistband of your panties and you're so slick, bucking against his fingers and moaning his name and he has no idea how he will last if he gets his cock inside you.

You make a sound almost like a whimper and his eyes dart to your face. You've got your eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted, and when your tongue darts out to wet your lips he wonders briefly what you'd look like with those lips wrapped around his cock.

"Kookie, please, I'm gonna-"

He watches your face, knows he's dragging his thumb along your clit by the way you cry out, and curious, he slips a finger inside you and you instantly clench around it.

"F-fuck. Fuck, Y/n, I want…"

Your eyes pop open and you lick your lips again, arching your back and he sees your nipples hard and straining against your shirt and he groans. Just when he thinks it's too much, just when he thinks there can't be more of you that's so sexy he can barely contain himself, he notices something else.

"Tell me what you want," you say in that husky tone and his face is burning but so what, so was the rest of him.

"Want you to ride my cock," he blurts, hoping that if you controlled the speed and depth he'd last longer, keep from embarrassing himself.

"Yes," you breathe, but when he releases your wrists and tugs off his shirt to lie down, you hesitate after slipping out of your panties, tugging your shirt down, sitting up on your knees.

"Are you okay? We can stop, I-"

You shake your head, eyes trailing over him. "I'm just... I'm nervous. You're in such good shape and I'm-'

Jungkook sits up, cups your face in his hands.

"You're beautiful," he insists. "You're so sexy, Y/n, I've been trying not to cum in my jeans for half an hour."

He would normally be mortified but your smile makes up for all of it and you kiss him hungry and sloppy and he doesn't protest when you keep on your shirt but he wants to see your tits so badly.

"W-wait," he stutters when you unbutton his fly, his head feels fuzzy and he wants this to last. He pulls you into his lap, tries to ignore how hot your core is even through his jeans.

He kisses along the neckline of your top before lifting his head, meeting your eyes before he touches your breasts.

You smile and nod and he clumsily tugs your breasts out of the top of your shirt and bra, leaning down to kiss the peaks of each of your nipples gently.

"There," he says softly, and lies back on the bed, adjusting his hips under you and holding his breath when you unbutton his jeans, deftly tug his cock out and he's embarrassed by how much precum spurts from his tip, coating your fingertips.

But then you bring your fingers to your mouth, suck them gently and he groans and tries not to buck beneath you.

"You're trying to kill me," he gasps, and your laugh makes him feel almost drunk.

You look around for the condoms and he fumbles with one, gets it open and fights the urge to fist his leaking cock when he slides it on.

Jungkook is nervous when you straddle his thighs but you don't tease, just guide his cock inside you and he can't stop the hoarse moan that rips from his throat.

"Oh God, oh fuck, Y/n, you're perfect, so fucking perfect," he babbles, and you rock forward, brace your hands on the headboard.

You're so tight around him, pulsing and so wet he can't stop himself from grabbing onto your hips and jerking up beneath you.

You cry out his name and do this smooth roll of your hips that makes him bite down hard on his lip and throw his head back.

You move your hands to his chest, panting a little, your eyes concerned.

"Am I...am I doing okay?"

Jungkook barks out a choked laugh.

"Okay? You're so fucking hot, Y/n, I can barely look at you."

You take his chin in your hand and his eyes open. You keep rolling your hips and he can barely breathe, watching your tits bounce and he moves his hands there, loves the way your nipples drag against his palms.

You let out a long whining moan and start to almost bounce on his cock and he feels his balls tighten.

"Y/n," he warns, but you've got your head thrown back now, moving as if you're on a mission. 

"Jungkook, I'm… I'm cumming," you moan low in your throat and he can feel it, fuck, he can feel you pulse around him and he thinks his heart might vault out of his chest.

"Oh God, oh God, Y/n!" He nearly shouts, spurting into the condom, hips bucking uncontrollably. His orgasm seems to last forever and he moans your name over and over, drags your head down to kiss you until black spots slide across his vision.

He gasps in air when you break apart but he whines when you slide off him and you giggle a little and the way your ass jiggles when you head to the bathroom is such a gift.

He's thrown the condom away and tugged the covers up when you return and he makes grabby hands at you, sleepy.

You slide in beside him and he puts a hand on your ass and wonder of wonders if he's half hard again in moments.

But you tuck your face into his neck, plant a chaste kiss there and he rubs your back instead, loving your breath on his throat.

"Are we more than friends now?" He mumbles, and your low laugh puts him to sleep with a smile on his face.

[unmaskedagain]

Ladybug in Smallville

           You can’t fix a broken heart, her grandmother told when Marinette was young and had ask why the older woman why she never remarried.

“You can forgive here,” Gina Dupain had pointed to her head. “And you can tell yourself every day that you forgive him, that all is well. And maybe you do. Maybe not right away, like you tell people but eventually… you do. You move on. You find some kind of peace. But that doesn’t mean your heart’s forgotten. Especially during the worst of it, when it’ll remind you every day just how much you’re still hurting.”

           The silver haired woman had look so dejected, so cynical compared to her usual chipper, charming self that it left the little girl stunned.

“Until one day, it doesn’t,” Gina continued. “And yet, your heart’s not the same. You’re not the same. No matter what you tell yourself. Sometimes, you’d swear it’s just a giant scar on your heart. Because at least that means it’s healed; beaten up, bruised, and permanently disfigured but healed.  Other days when you think too hard about it, and you are walking through memory lane; you can just barely admit the truth. That you can still feel every jagged edge, sharp angle still there from a shattered heart. And once on a very blue moon, you admit to yourself the truth; you can’t fix a broken heart. It’ll always be broken. Love has consequences.”

           She looked Marinette deep in the eyes, “The trick is learning to live with it. Learning that a broken heart doesn’t mean it doesn’t work.”

“Broken… but still good,” Marinette quoted Lilo and Stitch.

           Her grandmother beamed, “One of the hardest things is the world, sweetie, is to not let that broken heart stop you. You can cry. You can be angry. You can vengeance on the entire world. As long as you never let it stop you from living.”

“And loving?” Marinette asked. “You learned to love again.”

           There was a pause. A thoughtful look. And then a sigh, as Gina finally answered, “No, I never fell in love again. I could never trust the same as I did before. Never managed to figure out how to love with all of my heart like I used to when I was young. And it always felt wrong not you; but that’s just me. I learned to love myself, though. And that is the greatest thing you can ever learn. Love yourself.”

           Marinette had been nine-years-old at the time and hadn’t quite understood what her grandmother had been talking about. But she never forgot, the cold look on her grandmother’s face and the sorrow in her eyes.

           It was only years later, when the biggest liar to ever walk the planet proved that not all villains are easily defeated, when her friends had all turned their backs on her, when the boy who she swore she was going to marry someday was more of a cowardly frog than a prince, when even her parents bought the fabrication of Marinette being a bully, a thief, a jealous liar that Marinette finally understood. Because not only had her heart been broken, but it had been shattered.

           Marinette couldn’t even go to Fu as the man had used the last of his power in a fight against Hawkmoth because Chat Noir never showed up and Fu refused to give out Miraculous to people Marinette didn’t trust so the turtle had to fight. They had won but Marinette swore she’d never forgive Chat Noir for not showing up and costing a good man his life, and Marinette her mentor.

           Master Fu’s last act had to strip Chat Noir of his ring and name Marinette the new guardian. Before he faded, he warned Marinette that some people weren’t worth fighting for. Sometimes, a hero’s first priority has to be to save themselves.

           However, even then, Marinette had refused to give up. She kept trying to get her friends to listen, even when they made it clear they weren’t her friends anymore. Most didn’t reply to the texts anymore. And the ones that did, Alya mostly, ridiculed her; scorned Marinette’s very existence.

She tried to get Adrien to stand up and help her like he’d promised, only for him to ignore her calls, texts, and have Nathalie tell her that he didn’t want to be involved.

Despite the furious silent treatment from her mother and her father’s disappointed looks, Marinette still tried to convince them of her innocence. She had begged for them to listen to her, to trust that they raised her right, to believe her.  It was only after two weeks into her expulsion, when Marinette found luggage waiting by the door that Marinette understood. Nothing would change their minds.

They explained quickly that Marinette was going to be sent to live with her father’s godmother, one of his mother’s best friends. A good woman who promised to set Marinette straight. Or at least keep her out of trouble.

Marinette was on a plane an two hours later to a little old Kansas and then to a small town rightly called Smallville.

A kindly older blond man name Jonathan Kent had met her at the airport. Marinette had given him a polite, quiet, greeting and when mute for the rest of the ride to their farm. She hadn’t known what to expect. Feared the worst. Feared that they thought she was the bully her.

As soon as they arrived at the farm, a rather pretty greying redheaded woman walked out of her house with a mixing bowl in one hand and a sturdy wooden spoon in the other. Marinette steeled herself as she got out of the car. She raised her head up, “Bonjour, Madam.”

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest little thing,” The woman had greeted. “And I swear, you look just like your grandmother. It’s that spark in your eyes. Every time I saw it, I knew there was going to be trouble. Particularly, for the fools that messed with her. That’s how my cheating ex boyfriend’s dorm accidently caught on fire.”

           Marinette blinked once. Then twice. What?

“Accidently, Martha?” Jonathan chuckled as he got Marinette’s bags out of the car.

           Martha shot him a smile, “They could never prove otherwise.” She looked Marinette over, “Gina said your parents have their heads in a place sun just can’t seem to reach. Wanted to me to look after you. Get you away from all that drama. Get you with family. And the lord knows, that woman doesn’t know how to sit her butt anywhere long enough to leave an imprint. So come on inside, let’s get you unpacked and some food inside you.”

           Aunt Martha, as Marinette had been instructed to call her, had led her to an empty room that was just a bit bigger than the one she used to have and had a desk by a large window, a twin bed covered in a plaid blanket, and a few other standard amenities. Plus an old sewing machine on the desk. Marinette’s eyes lit up at the sight of it.

“Your grandma told me you like to design,” Aunt Martha smiled kindly. “I don’t use old Bertha myself anymore but I’d thought you’d like her. You can decorate your room anyway you’d like. Let me know if you need any help.”

           Marinette nodded and couldn’t stop herself from hugging the woman. She hadn’t been able to take much with her (Clothes, phone, laptop, a stuffed animal or two, the guardian box) but she made sure to bring all her sketch books and had just barely enough time and money to drop off a few boxes of her designing equipment and supplies at the local mail service carrier to be shipped to the farm in the upcoming weeks. The fear had been weighing on her of what ifs. What if it all got lost in the mail? What if Marinette couldn’t design anymore?

           Martha simply hugged her back, no probing questions. When Marinette let go, Martha said, “Now Kara and Conner’s rooms are either side of you. Conner’s mostly here on the weekends. Kara visits enough to still have room. They can be a… little nosy. But ignore it. My son, Clark, is visiting next week. They just can’t wait to meet you. I wouldn’t be surprised be any of them suddenly drops in.” She laughed, and it sounded a little like jingle bells.

           Then suddenly, Martha straightened up and gave Marinette a soft look, “You let me know if you need to talk or… Anything really.”

           Marinette felt her throat close up a bit and nodded stiffly.

“Dinner will be on the table soon.”

“May I help, Madam?” Marinette asked.

           Martha looked her over, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You can go ahead and get settled in.”

           Marinette blinked again. No one ever turned down her offer to help before. “I want to.” And so she did.

           Cooking with Aunting Martha was different that with her parents. While, she knew her parents loved to bake. It always felt like a job with them. One more responsibility Marinette had. Cooking with Aunt Martha was relaxing. They shared stories with each other and Marinette got more insight of her grandmother’s past than she ever had before. And even when it got silent, Marinette didn’t feel the need to fill it for once. And neither did Martha. It was nice.

           Eating dinner had been the same. Enjoyable and lovely with promises of teaching Marinette all about the farm. Uncle John laughing at wide-eyed Marinette reaction to idea of her milking a cow. It was a relief not to deal with her mother’s stony silence and her father’s blatant disapproval.

           Marinette knew from just one night that the Kents were good people and if she let herself, she could enjoy her time there. That didn’t stop Marinette from crying herself to sleep for a few nights.

           During her first week, Marinette didn’t hear a word from her parents. Or the second. Marinette knew they were more than likely waiting for her to make the first move like she always did.

           But unfortunately for them, Marinette was done. She was done with fake friends and disappointing crushes. She was done with being made out to be the bad guy. She was done always being the one to fix everything. Save everyone. Because she knew, without a doubt, that this time. Her first priority had to be save herself. Marinette had to fix herself. (Of course, Marinette still had to use the horse miraculous to go save Paris nearly every day but innocents needed her help.)

           So Marinette let herself be immersed in the smallville way of life. She helped out of the farm. She competed with Aunt Martha over who had the best pie recipe. Blinked in confusion when Martha wrapped a plate of Marinette’s special double chocolate salt caramel cookies to be delivered and muttered something about “Alfred finally getting his” and the Kent family reigning victorious. Marinette had just been happy to be considered family.

           Speaking of family, Marinette had become rather fond of her new “Cousins”. Jon was the youngest and reminded Marinette of a very hyperactive puppy. He constantly dragged Marinette away to play games and pretend. Connor was a bit sullen but had turned out to be a giant teddy bear once he opened up. He loved to talk about his friends; particularly someone named Tim. The beautiful blond Kara loved girl talk and arm wrestling Connor. She raved about Marinette’s designs and over her pictures with Jagged Stone. Clark, the oldest of her cousin, was a sweetheart; a geeky reporter who was married to a man named Bruce, worked mainly out of Metropolis, and had somewhere between five to seven kids. There was a lot of names and nicknames that left Marinette’s head spinning.

           None of them had taken kindly to Marinette’s story of how she ended up on the Kent farm. Wondering who could bully such a sweet angel?

           Though Marinette decided he wasn’t ever going to be her favorite after the blueberry scone incident.

           Over the next few months, Marinette learned what her grandmother had meant about letting herself be angry and getting some vengeance. Because was allowed to be angry. And she was allowed to get payback.

           After a rather nasty Akuma, Ladybug had taken the time to do an interview with Nadja. She had confirmed that Chat Noir was never returning, that the Ladyblog and its journalist had lost her trust forever after Ladybug had learned about the lies the blog was posting.

“What lies,” Nadja had asked, glad to finally stick it to the girl, Alya, who had been so mean to her honorary niece.

“Well for example, who the hell is Lila Rossi?” Ladybug asked when Nadja pulled up the website on the blue screen behind them. They scrolled through the website pointing out lies and inaccuracies. “That girl is not my best friend. I saved her from her own akuma save five times now. That’s it. I don’t know the girl. I don’t like the girl. What was written would only serve to put Lila in danger. And what’s this about Lila saving Jagged Stone’s cat? From a plane? Which airline was this? Who could be so careless?”

           Nadja nodded and looked quite stunned herself at what was on the blog. “I highly doubt Clara Nightingale stole Lila’s dance moves. Or strictly guarded Prince Ali invites random girls, even Ambassador’s daughter, to discuss his country go green intuitive. Or that she came up with the entire plan herself. This is just ridiculous! And what this about you curing Tinnitus?”

           Ladybug quickly shook her head, “That’s not possible. And it gives people false hope.”

“So Lila’s lying,” Nadja had to fight to keep the smugness out of her voice. She had told Sabine she was wrong. Had been absolutely furious that Marinette had been sent away. Some journalist should really learn Check Her Sources.” She said the last part with a smirk. “And what’s this about Gordon Ramsey?”

           It went on from there, with brief intervals so Marinette could recharge. Ladybug had blasted her former school, its’ principle, and her old teacher Bustier to shreds. For allowing bullying of students, victim blaming, and sheer negligence. Reciting how many times Ladybug had to deal with akuma from that school, particularly from Bustier’s class.

“I heard one poor girl even got expelled,” Ladybug shook her head. “From what I’ve heard, there was no investigation, just word of mouth, easily planted evidence, and then expulsion. I’m surprised I didn’t have to deal with her Akuma.” Ladybug’s sad tone was clear to hear. “I looked into the incident a bit. A rather brilliant Robot name Markov had been recording the room at the time.” Marinette nodded to the screen. “I had them blur the students faces for security reasons. The girl with the short hair is the victim in question.”

           The video played. And it was clear that a long haired girl had stolen the answer and planted them.

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t fix the issue,” Ladybug sighed. “By the time, I heard of it girl was been sent away by her parents. Not even they believed her.”

“I know the girl you’re speaking about,” Nadja frowned. “She’s stronger than she looks. Still, she deserved better. I swear to you that I’ll be leading the charge in investigating the wrongful expulsion.”

           Ladybug smiled.

           It took less than an hour after the interview to air for Marinette’s phone to start blowing up. Her ex-friends, her old classmates texted up a storm of apologies.

           The call from her parents had come in no longer after. Her father had full of apologies and swore to make it up to her. Her mother had been in tears.

           They were met with silence from Marinette. A forgive didn’t come. Marinette made it clear she still loved them but she was staying with the Kents. She would not be returning to Paris. It was her father’s turn to cry.

           Marinette would forgive them in time. But that wasn’t her priority was herself at the moment.

           While the Kents, Marinette was free to just be Marinette. Not anyone’s “Everyday Ladybug”. And was finding that she liked who she was.

           She liked designing clothes for Kara and dresses for Aunt Martha. Doing everything possible to get Clark out of plain. (She would be victorious!) She liked hanging out around town with Connor and being someone’s little sister, as he called her. Though she wouldn’t mind if he lost the overprotective streak. She wasn’t some damsel in destress. There was no more panic attacks. No more dealing with pushing best friends. No more waste time on crush on a blond loser.

           The only near heart attack she had was the blueberry scone incident. Marinette had gotten an akuma alert. She had yelled to Aunt Martha that she was going on a walk, hid behind the farm, transformed and portal’d away.

           Unfortunately, Uncle Clark had heard that Marinette had made her famous scones and had been FLYING overhead to the house at the time and had saw her.

           Uncle Clark had been waiting for her when she got back, with crossed arms and a stern look on his face. Before Marinette could open up her mouth to give a multitude of excuses, Clark held up one hand to silence her. Then he spun around faster than she’d ever seen anyone do before. And then Superman was standing in front of her.

           Marinette’s heart had stopped, she’d swear.

           After that they both de-transformed. Uncle Clark had led her inside where the entire Kent family was waiting.

           Turns out Uncle Clark was a tattletale. And he was never going to be her favorite.

“Snitch,” She told him simply before anyone could say anything.

           Clark blushed a little but shrugged.

           After that everyone introduced themselves. Or rather their superhero identities. Each taking turns to tell their story. Marinette had shed a few tears about the loss of Krypton. Marinette had introduce the Kwamis’ to the Kents. Jon had let out a squeal of joy at the sight flying creatures.

           Aunt Martha had only laughed when Plagg flew up to her face and said, “Cheese.”

           Marinette told her story from when she first got Tikki to then. There was no happy faces in the room.”

“You’re a superhero?” Kara was the first to burst out. “Ladybug the Parisian hero.”

“You work an entire city?” Connor asked. “I’m now even allowed to do that yet.” He shot quick glare at Clark. “Even the Teen Titans has league supervision.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, “The Justice League doesn’t usually tread on other heroes’ territory. Ladybug had always managed well.” He then gave her a look. “However, we were unaware that Ladybug was a teenager. I think its time we took a closer look at Paris.

[justauthoring]

No Reason To (46/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

A/N: So, here it is! Officially onto the final half of the season! Only four more parts after this one. Which is just absolutely.... crazy.

Anyways, the next few parts will be a bit different then normal but I think it’s worth it and a lot of you seemed to like the idea of it as well. So, hopefully you all enjoy it!

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 06x11 & 06x12

“It’s amazing! It’s just... It’s amazing...”

Smiling softly, you duck your head down as you slowly push open the doors to the hospital, pulling your keys out of your bag for your car. “I’m glad, Stiles,” you whisper softly, “it does all sound really... amazing.”

He chuckles, and you can imagine the amount of boxes piled around him in his dorm that’s he’s refused to put away yet because that’s just the way he is. You can imagine the only thing he’s probably really unpacked is a bed to sleep on, and clothes for school. And you can imagine what it’ll be like when you get there next week, and how good it’ll be able to be in his arms again.

Because it’s been too long.

Slipping into your car, you set down your bag in the seat next to you with a huff, blowing that hair that had fallen into your face out. You shuffle in your seat, happy to be in your warm car despite how hot it had been all day, it had really cooled off in the evening. 

“I can’t wait for you to see it all.”

“Me too,” you smile softly, glancing down at your lap as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “But mainly I can’t wait to see you.”

“Just a week more,” Stiles reminds, voice gentle. “You think you can handle that?”

You snort, “I’ve handled the past three months haven’t I?” You quirk a brow challengingly, pushing your key into the ignition and turning it so your car is on. You wince when you realize how late it is. Mom was right when she said you were taking on far too much, it was already past ten’o’clock and you’d been here since eleven in the morning. 

“Besides, i’m sure it’s you whose struggling without me,” you add after a moment, “have you even unpacked anything besides your bed-sheets?”

“I unpacked some... clothes for class.”

“The one you needed my help buying may I remind.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles relents with a snort. “I’ll admit, you’re better at keeping me in check then I am myself. But, to be fair, I’ve been too excited to care really otherwise.”

You nod, humming softly. “I’m really happy for you, Stiles. Truly.”

Stiles doesn’t really respond, he hums softly in return and doesn’t even really need to say anything for you to know he’s smiling brightly at your words. While the past few months have been difficult being apart, you called whenever you could. And Stiles was busy adjusting and getting used to the new environment to notice too much, and you’d taken on more shifts where you could at the hospital and even a little at the school towards the end of summer to help distract yourself.

Something told you Stiles was doing a lot better then you were being miles apart.

Inhaling deeply, you shoulders fall. “Well, I really should head home. It’s late and...”

“Oh, yeah... yeah, of course.”

Biting your lip, you swallow thickly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Stiles says with ease, no hesitation. “And i’ll see you in a week.”

You smile at his words, but can’t fight the forbidding feeling welling in your stomach. You can’t rightly explain it, but while you were excited, more than, to see Stiles in a week; it just felt as if something was going to go wrong.

“I’ll see you in a week.”

You press end, pulling your phone from your ear and letting it fall on the seat next to you. You hesitate a moment before shifting your car into drive, gripping the steering wheel tightly in your hands as you let your forehead fall against it.

“Just a week,” you whisper to yourself. “One more week.”

-

“Oh, Liam.”

Slowing at the bottom of steps, Liam blinks at the sight of you. “Hey Y/N,” he pauses, frowning slightly, “You’re home... late.”

“Yeah,” you shrug, gesturing to your bag. “Hospital needed help with some things.”

Liam nods, stepping forward as you slip your shoes off, letting your bag drop to the floor. Silence echoes for a moment, before your mind clicks with realization of something. “Hey, you excited for senior year?”

Liam blinks, “kinda,” he shrugs, “gonna be weird without you guys here.”

You let out a lightly chuckle. “I can imagine. But,” and then you smile, brightly and warmly, meeting Liam’s gaze without hesitance. “I’m sure it’ll all work out. And hey! If you ever need help with school or something, i’m only a phone call away.”

Chuckling lightly, Liam smiles at you as you walk up the steps. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem,” you nod, “Scott upstairs?”

“Yeah, he’s... he’s packing.”

“Ah, okay. Well, see you later?”

“Yeah, see you later.”

He moves to pull on his shoes and you send him one last wave with a bright smile, before turning to walk up the steps. The walk to Scott’s room is a short one, and the doors already open when you get there. You smile as you notice him trying to close a completely too full suitcase that looks as if it’s about to burst at the seams and even his werewolf strength isn’t enough to keep it shut.

“I think you need a bigger suitcase.”

Pulling to a stand, Scott glances back at you with a blink of surprise before glancing back down at the suitcase. “Yeah,” he mumbles, scratching at the back of his head. “I think you may be right.”

“Here,” you say gently, stepping into his room with ease and gesturing to the suitcase. “You push, i’ll zip.”

Scott frowns, shaking his head. “Liam and I already--”

“Just,” you cut in, turning to him as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Trust me?”

Meeting your eyes, Scott hesitates a moment before letting out a soft laugh. Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he nods, “okay,” he eases, stepping forward and grabbing the lid of his suitcase, pulling it down and pushing it shut. You act quick, grabbing the zipper and pulling. You manage to maneuver it all the way around until it’s completely zipped and shut.

Leaning back, you smile; “there, done.”

Scott falls back against his bed with a huff of relief, hands sprawling up above him as he cheers teasingly. You laugh lightly at the sight, quirking a brow down at him as he simply just glances back up at you. “I was sure I was never going to get that suitcase shut,” he breathes.

Snorting, you kick his leg lightly so he’ll move it, allowing you room to sit down. You do so with a light sigh, shoulders somewhat slumped as you glance around Scott’s room and how, even though not everything’s gone, it seems and feels so... barren.

Scott isn’t oblivious to your reaction either.

“Hey,” he calls softly, pushing himself up to his elbow. “You start packing yet?”

You shrug; “a little. Been too busy to.”

Sitting up completely next to you, Scott’s shoulder softly bumps into your own. “You’re not excited to go to Washington?”

“Of course i’m excited to go to Washington,” you say quickly, perhaps a little too quickly, turning to look at Scott. You sigh when you notice the look on his face, it pretty clear he sees completely through your forced lie. He’s knows you too well not to. “I am,” you reassurance, “it’s just... everything’s changing so quickly, you know? Malia’s leaving for Paris, Lydia got accepted into MIT, Stiles is training to be a freaking FBI agent, you’re going to be Vet Technician... and I still don’t even know what I want to do.”

“Y/N...”

Swallowing thickly, you glance down at your lap. “It just feels like everyone else is so organized. I mean, I’m excited to go to Washington and be with Stiles, God knows I am... but, i’m not going there for myself. I can’t remember the last time i’ve done something for myself.”

Scott’s hand falls over your own; “is there any colleges or universities there that interest you?”

You want to say yes. But part of you wants to say no too. Because you’ve looked. You’ve looked so incredibly hard but nothing seemed to feel right for you. And all you can really manage to say to Scott is a simple and somewhat lost; “I don’t know.”

Frowning, Scott swallows thickly. “I can hold off a week? I’m sure it’d be okay. Wait until--”

“Absolutely not,” you cut in before Scott even has the chance to say anything more. “Scott, no,” you whisper, squeezing his hand in your own. “I won’t hold back your life just because I don’t know what i’m doing with mine. You should go and you should be happy. I’ll... I’ll be okay. I’ll figure it out.”

Swallowing slowly, Scott nods, hesitant. “If you’re sure...”

“I am,” you smile, “of course, I am.”

-

“Oh, my gosh. You two brought me dinner? That’s really nice--”

“No,” Mason cuts in, “it’s not dinner.”

Turning at the sound of Mason’s voice, your brows furrow in confusion at the sight him and Liam. Your eyes flicker down the bagged container in Mason’s hands, understanding why your mother would assume it’s food. But, obviously, it’s not and that’s what catches your attention, picking up the speed in your step as you move towards them.

“It’s not dinner?”

You reach them just as Melissa glances into the bag, pulling it open enough that you manage a peek at it too. Your lips curve into an expression of disgust at the sight of it, pulling back similarly to how your mother does. “It’s definitely not dinner.”

Liam steps forward, meeting your eyes briefly before glancing over at Melissa. “We were hoping you could take a look at it for us.”

“Well,” Melissa smiles sweetly, “I was hoping that someone was going to bring me dinner. Now is not the time for a rat autopsy. So, take this and get yourselves out of here.”

“No, but we really--”

Melissa chuckles lightly, mockingly, pointing her finger at them; “no, out.”

Liam and Mason visibly slump in defeat, and with a light laugh, you turn to your mother. “Here,” you offer gently. “Dinner.”

Her eyes visibly brighten. “You’re a saviour,” leaning forward, she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “Are you volunteering tonight?”

“No,” you shake your head, “but, I might go do a rat autopsy.”

Rolling her eyes, Melissa nods, pointing a finger at the two younger boys. “Keep them out of trouble.”

“Always!”

Picking up the speed in your step, you rush to catch up with Liam and Mason. “Boys, wait up!” They recognize your voice, slowing to a step with ease as you side-step nearly being hit and race around to get to them. They blink at you in surprise when you reach them, shaking their heads in confusion as you simply just blink up at them.

“So, what’s going on with the rat?”

It’s their turn to blink, dumbfounded, as they glance at one another before Mason lowers his gaze to the bag in his hands. “Um...--”

“--You started it. Back off!”

Gasping out in surprise, your eyes widen when you notice a man shoving another man back, both injured but clearly not really caring as they aggressively assault one another and spit words of insult towards each other. Your lips frown at the sight, not used to seeing such an act in the hospital of all places; and you’ve been spending a lot of your time here recently.

“Hey, now, that’s called assault!”

“Can I get security over here?” Melissa calls aloud, keeping her distance from the men.

Liam steps forward before you can stop him, moving to step in between the two men. He turns to the man who’d pushed the other, calling out as gently as he can; “sir, you need to calm down.”

But he’s interrupted by a sharp punch to the nose.

“Liam!”

He finds his feet quickly and your eyes widen when you notice the glow to his eyes and the fangs protruding from his mouth. One glance around and you know a lot more than just you and Mason have noticed it; including the man who’d punched him. “What the... What...”

The security guards arrive then, rushing to grab the two men who’d started the fight in the first place and therefore surrounding Liam. Your eyes widen when you notice the deep cuts he’s caused in his palms from trying to hide his claws. “Liam,” you call out, hoping he can hear you. You try to make your way over to him, but get blocked along the way, and you can tell Mason is trying to do same.

And in the midst of the chaos, you manage to lose him.

-

“You two cannot do that!”

Pausing, both Mason and Liam spin to face you as you slam your car door shut behind you. Their eyes widen when they notice how angry you are, taking a small shuffle back as you rush forward, crossing your arms over your chest with a deep-set frown. 

For a moment silence echoes.

You quirk a brow, as if waiting for them to speak, expecting a explanation; they glance at each other and then back to you.

“You ran off!” 

“Oh,” Mason mumbles, “we thought it was--”

“Fine?” You cut in sharply, shaking your head at them. “Are you kidding me?” Whirling round to set your attention on Liam, you narrow your eyes at him. “You lost control in the hospital, Liam! People saw! You’re not even the least bit concerned?”

Shrugging, Liam blinks, “people have seen far worst in Beacon Hills.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it isn’t,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Stepping towards the two boys, you press a finger against Liam’s chest. “The point is it was you they saw. You. And I know Scott would agree with me.”

You hit a pressure point mentioning his alpha, you know. But you need him to understand, especially if you all weren’t going to be around soon to watch them.

“Look,” Liam sighs, “i’m sorry. I’m working on it, okay?”

“He really is,” Mason nods, hopeful that you’re a little less angry.

Letting out a sigh, your hand drops to your side. Taking a step forward, you wrap your arms around the both of them, pulling them close. It’s a bit awkward given that they’re a tad bit taller then you and you know they weren’t expecting you to just full on embrace them. But, you don’t relent your grip, squeezing them tightly.

Liam and Mason hesitant a moment, surprised.

“I just worry about you both,” you whisper, “that’s all.”

Setting his arm around your waist, Liam squeezes gently, as Mason pats your shoulder lightly.

“We know,” Liam whispers, “we’re sorry.”

“We really are.”

Pulling back, you shake your head at them, “I’m being silly. Sorry,” taking a step back, you move towards your car. “Go... study or whatever you were going to do,” then you pause, pointing a finger at them, “but you should study. Studying is good.”

Liam and Mason chuckle, nodding at you and waving as they turn and make their way into the school. You pause by your car, watching them until they’re both completely inside and out of eyesight. And then you let your eyes wander across the school, one of which you spent so much of your life in and now, was no longer even apart of it. 

It’s funny how fast things change. How it can happen with a single blink of the eye and then, everything’s just different.

Everyone was leaving, moving on with their lives. And you found yourself stuck, loss, unsure. Were you just going to Washington for Stiles? Or did you really hope to find something there for yourself? You wanted to be with Stiles, to see him, of course you did. But... you also had to find out what you wanted to do with your life, not just watch other people move on with their own.

Letting out a sigh, you move to stand up, moving towards your car door, however the sound of growling catches your attention. It’s faint, but loud enough that you can even hear it. And your head turns in the direction of the school when you realize it’s coming from there. And, it’s a lot of growling, faint banging, your first thought being Mason and Liam.

You shut your car door, rushing to the school doors and following the direction of where the growling is coming from best you can. It takes you a while, but eventually you manage to pinpoint the source, eyes widening when you turn down the hallway only to find Mason being knocked back and slammed into a set of lockers.

His name leaves your lips in a cry of worry, catching the attention of both Liam and a... Hellhound? as you come rushing in. You don’t notice it, too worried about reaching Mason, but something about you seems to catch the attention of the Hellhound and it turns it’s focus away from Liam and onto you, rushing towards you. 

“Y/N!”

It’s Liam and you blink when you feel an arm slam against you, pushing you up against the lockers directly next to Mason’s limp body. A cry of surprise leaves your lips as his arm moves to your neck, pinning you back and blocking off your airway as you struggle to breathe. It takes you a moment to catch yourself, eyes widening in confusion when the man you don’t recognize leans close, as if feeling for something.

“No,” he growls, “it’s not you either.”

You just huff, eyes flashing purple as you force him back, releasing your neck so you can breathe. The minute he’s off of you, you inhale sharply, catching your breath as you swipe your hand out before yourself, holding the man in place. Flames won’t work on him for obvious reasons, but you can hold him in place for Liam.

“Y/N,” Liam calls, slamming a locker door against the Hellhounds head, “Mason!”

Once you’re sure he’s got the man, you move towards Mason, crouching next to him and gently guiding him up into your lap. Your hands fall to his cheeks, making sure his pulse is still there and scanning for any worrying injuries. Other then a knock to the head, he seems okay.

A groan from Liam catches your attention, and your eyes widen when the Hellhound slices his stomach with it’s claws, creating a deep cut. But, before you can even move to help Liam, he’s recuperated enough to knock the man back, cutting him like he had him, before knocking him back to the lockers right beside you. The fire around his body fades and he slumps to the floor with a groan.

Liam’s does the same, breath trembling.

Your brows furrow in confusion when the man simply just laughs, head tilting back. “It won’t stay hidden,” he mumbles, voice low. “It must be stopped. Nothing else matters.”

You blink when you feel Mason shift in your grasp, Lowering your gaze, your eyes widen in relief when his eyes flicker open, moving to sit up. He glances up at you in confusion, eyes flickering around before landing on Liam and with a simple nod, you follow his lead, helping guide him up to his feet as the both of you rush over to Liam.

“...The truth...”

Mason slumps next to Liam, the both of them glancing at each other, before you.

Your head turns towards where the Hellhound had been, sighing when you notice it gone, leaving out a trail of blood along the lockers.

-

Helping Liam pull off his tattered and ripped shirt, you wince at the cuts along his lower stomach and chest. They’re bad, very bad, and they’re not healing quickly either; not as quickly as any of you would like.

“It should be healing faster than this.”

Glancing over at Mason, you catch the look in his eyes, pushing yourself up to your feet. “I’ll find something to wash the blood off.”

You move towards the bathroom portion of the locker room, grabbing some paper towel and moving to wet them as you listen in on Liam and Mason’s conversation.

“It’s Hellfire,” Mason reminds, “I mean, all things considered, you’re doing great.”

“Well, great isn’t supposed to look like this.”

“You fought a Hellhound on your own, without Scott.” 

“Y/N was there.”

Walking back over to the two boys, you crouch before Liam. “I didn’t really do any fighting,” you remind softly, moving to dab lightly over the wound. Liam winces as you go, but doesn’t fight you. Instead, the two boys keep their gazes on you as you clean his wound and continue. “And without you there, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

Liam just shakes his head, leaning back.

Turning to Mason, you nod reassuringly as he shifts forward. “Wounds heal,” he breathes, “people move. Things change.”

“Yeah,” Liam mumbles, “still hurts though.”

Frowning, you pull back, dropping the blood soaked paper towel next to Liam on the bench. “It’s the best I can do,” you whisper after a moment, nodding at Liam before pushing back to stand up. Letting your hand fall on Liam’s shoulder gently, you squeeze it softly. “I should probably call Scott.”

-

“In case anyone forgot...”

Malia lets out a chuckle and you shake your head.

“Yeah I just said forgot,” Lydia calls, before turning to face the three of you. “We almost lost him last time.”

Scott nods, and you lower your gaze, not sure how to respond. Luckily, Malia does for you. “If this turns out to be something big, and we don’t call him...”

“He would kill us,” Scott finishes for her.

“Or maybe we should go back to the woods tonight and find the killer.”

“Scott? Y/N?”

You blink when they all turn to you. Inhaling deeply, you shake your head. “You guys didn’t hear his voice,” you explain, voice soft, a mere whisper. “He sounded really excited to be there.”

Lydia frowns.

“Y/N’s right,” Scott nods, “in his voicemail... I swear, I've never heard him sound so happy.”

An echo of silences follows for a minute.

“Uh,” Malia calls, stammering over her words. “Just play the voicemail.”

Nodding with ease, Scott moves to press play.

“Hey, Scott. So... I’m here. I’m in Quantico, Virginia, at the FBI. I’m at the freaking FBI. It’s real. I’m really here.” Lowering your gaze, you bite your lip, unable to stop the small smile the curls onto your lips at Stiles’ voice. “I told Y/N that I miss her and I can’t wait for her to get here. But just in case, remind her for me because I really am.” Eyes falling shut, you feel your heart plummet.

I’m not gonna make it there. Not yet, at least.

“Listen, Scott, whatever you’re doing right now, just make sure you’re still getting out of Beacon Hills. I mean, maybe you think you can’t leave, you know, like, the whole thing falls apart if you’re not there. Which I get, but you have to. I know you’re supposed to drive out tonight, so if you don’t call me back, just promise me you’re actually going. Just get in the jeep and go.”

Silence echoes as the voicemail ends, and you let out a sigh.

“I’m going to have to make up a lie, aren’t I?”

-

You sigh as the first ring echoes.

Your leg bounces in front of you, repeatedly, anxious as you listen to the second ring. Part of you hopes he won’t answer, and another part of you hopes Stiles will; that way you can just tell him and get it over with. Because you had absolutely no idea how you were going to tell him. Like... at all.

You couldn’t tell him the truth, that was clear.

But what could you say instead?

“Hey.”

Inhaling sharply, your eyes flicker shut as you tuck your chin into your chest, heart starting to pound. You’re too busy trying to come up with a viable excuse that you barely even register the slight peek in Stiles’ own voice, and you can’t see urgency at which he pounces his own leg. Up, down. Up, down. Up. 

Down.

“Hey, Stiles,” you smile softly just at the mention of his name, envisioning him in your mind and thinking about how badly you want to see him. And now, you don’t know when you will. “How was your day?”

“Good, good,” Stiles nods, “how was yours?”

“Long.”

Stiles hums. You find it odd he doesn’t want to talk more about his first day. Makes you wonder if something’s wrong, but, by right you can’t really question him on it because you’re being just as odd and suspicious as him.

“Everything okay?”

Licking your lips, you lean forward. “I won’t be able to make it next week.”

There’s a pause, then, “like... to Wash--”

“To you,” you conclude with a nod even though you know he can’t see it. “Some stuff with my mom has come up, and she needs me unfortunately.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind; you make a mental note of telling Scott so he’ll back you up in-case Stiles questions him. “I don’t think i’ll be able to make it there for another week, um, maybe longer. I don’t know.”

“Is...” And Stiles hesitates at this, as if the words caught in the back of his throat. “Is everything okay? Is Melissa hurt or--”

“She’s fine, it’ll just be easier to explain in person if I see you soon. When I see you soon, you know?” Letting out a soft sigh, you swallow thickly. “I’m sorry, Stiles. I really am. And I promise i’ll be there as soon as I possibly can and explain it all, but... right now...--”

“You need to be there?”

“...I need to be here.”

“Okay,” he whispers, and you can tell he’s disappointed. But he doesn’t fight you or question you any further. “Okay, I understand.”

Smiling with hurt, your hand moves to grip the necklace he’d given you at the end of summer, holding it tightly between your fingers. “I’ll see you soon?”

“I’ll see you soon.”

With a final goodbye, you hang up the call, slumping back against your bed with a sigh. You stare up at your ceiling with a deep frown marring your lips, not bothering to move even when you hear your bedroom door slide open, knowing without even having to look that it’s Scott.

“I’m officially the worst girlfriend ever.”

Letting out a light chuckle, Scott takes a seat next to you on your bed, glancing down at you. “You’re helping him by not telling him,” Scott assures you, setting his hand over your thigh in a sign of what he hopes is comfort. “He sounded really excited, didn’t he?”

Sitting up, you smile at Scott, nodding. “He did.”

-

Y/N....

“This is dumb, Y/N. What are you doing...”

You glance around at the trees and grass surrounding you, your flashlight truthfully not doing much to light up anything. Mind you, going to Beacon Hill’s very own forest in the middle of the night probably wasn’t the smartest idea either.

You had no idea where you were going. Or what you were doing for that matter either. You should’ve gotten Scott to come with you, or Malia. Hell, you could have even dragged Liam out of bed. You knew you were capable of handling yourself, but with a new threat that none of you really understood or really knew what it was, it probably wasn’t smart to be lost in the woods in the middle of the night, alone.

It was, in fact, dumb. Incredibly so.

But you’d heard his voice.

Y/N...

And you still could.

Theo. You haven’t heard him call out for you like that, telepathically or whatever, since he’d first been sent to hell. And he certainly wasn’t in hell anymore since Liam had sent him free and Scott had deciphered him no longer a threat. And you couldn’t understand why or really even how he was calling out for you. Nor could you understood why you’re so willingly searching for him.

When in reality you should be running the other way.

Running away from Theo.

Why your feet even lead you in the woods in the first place, you’ll never understand.

“You could get hurt,” you continue to ramble to yourself, trailing further down your imaginary path. “You could die. And what? For Theo...” Then, hesitating, you sigh. “Regrettably yeah, for Theo...”

Stupid. He doesn’t deserve that from you. Not after what he’d done.

And yet, you still continue to walk.

You wander aimlessly for at least another twenty minutes, finding nothing. Absolutely shit all. And you were tired, incredibly so, and you knew it was going to take you a while to even find your way back to your car, so, with that, you decide it’s time to turn around. 

Screw Theo. What had he done for you other then break your heart.

Just as you do, however, a tree branch cracks.

You halt in your steps, shoulders freezing as you slowly glance around, keeping your flashlight steady before you. You may be a witch, but your eyesight was still human and like before, you can’t see anything with your stupid phone flashlight. 

Another branch cracks. And then another, from two completely different directions.

“Hello?” You call out hesitantly, unsure. You take a small shuffle forward, searching, body tense with anticipation. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

It happens in a flash. A cry leaves your lips as an arrow pierces your left shoulder, digging into the skin painfully, knocking you back completely off your feet. Your body thuds against the ground, and your eyes twist shut for a moment as your right hands move to the arrow, hissing the second you touch it as pain envelops your entire body.

But the pain suddenly becomes less important when you hear approaching footsteps. A lot of them.

Shuffling back, you move against the tree behind you, pressing up against it with heavy, pounding breaths. You feel your heart pound erratically against your chest and now you’re sure you should’ve brought someone along because you have no idea what you’re going to do.

Your powers. You’re a witch.

A man approaches, crossbow in hand and you waste no time, despite the wave of pain that hits you, flashing your eyes at him and tilting your head just enough with a swipe of your hand to knock the man flying back, into a tree to your right. You effectively knock the man out, but footsteps continue to echo and follow. You do your best to keep up, eyes never fading from the purple hue until you feel your body and mind screaming at you in exhaustion.

You’re putting up a fight, but you don’t know if it’ll be enough.

Especially with how many there are. 

Because suddenly it’s no longer just two people running at you, it’s a whole group, surrounding. All their flashlights, which are a hell of a lot brighter then your stupid phone one, are flashing directly in your eyes, blinding you. it feels like staring directly into the sun and your eyes twist shut as you try to look away, but everywhere you look, there’s a bright light.

You still fight, best you can, heart racing in fear and worry, trying desperately to fight them off. But there’s too many. They surround your entire being, and with an arrow piercing your shoulder which aches painfully, you find yourself at a lost; more than that, terrified. There’s too many of them to fight off, especially when you can’t see anything but the shadowed figure of their feet in front of you because of their flashlights.

And if you can’t see, you can’t attack. You can’t even move your left arm.

Feeling vulnerable and terrified, your press your back further up against the tree behind you, letting out a groan of pain. “Please,” you whisper, voice echoing. “Please don’t--”

“Y/N McCall.”

You freeze at the familiarity of the voice.

He emerges from the crowd, and even though he stays hidden behind the blinding lights, you know it’s him. You couldn’t forget that voice, especially after all the turmoil he’d caused what felt like so long ago.

“Gerard...”

“Glad to see you remember me,” he laughs, stepping forward. You growl as he reveals himself to you, not allowing him to say another thing before your eyes flash, using the little bit of strength in your body you have left to swipe your right hand before you and knock him back. 

It causes an uproar. The blinding lights get closer until all you see is white, and then a blood-curling scream leaves your lips as the arrow is all but ripped out of your shoulder. You instantly curl into yourself, crying out in agony as hands grab at you. You fight them mercilessly, trying to break free from the many hands grabbing and pulling at you. But it’s useless.

There’s too many of them.

Weakened by your injury, no amount of struggling stops the people around you from tying your hands behind your back with a zip-tie that cuts painfully into your skin. A blindfold is placed over your eyes and you’re suddenly reminded of the fear and terror you’d felt when you’d been stabbed. You’d practice using your magic without sight but it was never a skill you’d mastered, and it certainly didn’t help that the pain was making your eyes feel heavy.

Nor did the group of people surrounding you help either.

With a last fight for survival, your eyes glow beneath the mask as your body begins to heat up. You can’t by right set yourself on fire, you won’t survive it, but if you push your magic to surround you almost as if in a barrier, it’ll be too hot for any of them touch and grab you like they are now.

You’re proven correct when a chorus of gasps echo and you’re body falls against the floor with a harsh thud. You groan as you fall right on your left shoulder, bringing your knees up to curl in yourself, you’re last attempt at protecting yourself.

“Ow, fuck!”

“She’s burning hot!”

“My hands!”

“You bitch!”

“Are you fools?” Gerard’s voice booms and you freeze at the sound of it.

“But-But she’s--!”

“Knock her out,” he says without fault, “we don’t need her awake right now.”

Your eyes widen at his words. Your feet start kicking beneath you and you struggle in your binds uselessly, the dull pinching from the zip-tie barely a bother as the thought of being knocked out and taken somewhere unconsciously more threatening and terrifying.

“No! No, wait! Please, don’t--!”

Your world fades to black as a harsh smack is delivered to your head.

-

Scott awakes with a gasp.

He’s sweating, profusely. Though, it isn’t the first thing he notices. He notices his racing heart, his panting breath and the pounding thoughts of terror that surround his mind that he can’t make sense of.

And then, it hits him.

Y/N.

You’re.... You’re in pain. His shoulder aches, a dull pain that stings as if he’s been stabbed with something but his skin is free of any scratches, cuts or even bruises. Because it’s you that’s hurt. 

But-But how? He’d... He’d just seen you...

You’re scared. Terrified. He can feel every racing thought that surrounds your head, but can’t actually hear them. Your fear mixes with his own and he jumps to his feet, grabbing the nearest shirt he can find and pulling it onto his body, running out of his room. He checks your room, but you’re not there. He runs down to the kitchen and you’re not there either.

When he checks outside, your cars gone too.

“Scott? Scott, what’s the matter?”

Turning back into the house, Scott’s wide, panicked eyes fall on his mothers own worried and concerned ones. Breathless and shaky, Scott shakes his head.

“Y/N... Y/N’s missing.”

-

Part 47?

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[ahgaseda]

enough | three

even if everyone else leaves me, you’re enough for me, you’re my only one, stand by me forever, only you, just you...

summary : to survive as a single woman in the big city, you resort to letting rich men pay for your company, but never anticipated that your first client would be the boy you once loved, Jinyoung.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, references to prostitution, mentions of gang activity, graphic sexual content, potentially triggering elements involving mental health, panic attacks, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

Frustration was the understatement of the year.

After Jinyoung kissed you, he avoided you for the remainder of the evening. You were left to wallow in hurt and self-pity. Being faced with how badly you had damaged him, frankly had wounded you as it rightly should have.

His driver, a chatty trouble maker named Yugyeom, who towered over you and flashed a hundred-watt smile, but you learned very quickly he would be a great source of comfort given his willingness to gossip endlessly about his boss.

As the car drove into the night, Yugyeom kindly asked how your evening had been.

“He wouldn’t have sex with me,” you lamented, hoping for a laugh and relieved when you earned one.

After an amused chuckle, Yugyeom told you, “He may be a ruthless asshole, but he’s still a gentleman.”

“Yeah, but… you know what he’s paying me for,” you trailed unsurely, wondering how much you could divulge with this new acquaintance.

Yugyeom shrugged, clearly unbothered by your current “profession,” and gabbed, “The boss isn’t a rabbit. In fact, he’s rarely horny.”

Skeptical, you frowned and sighed, “Good to know.” Turning back to the window, you watched the city around you blur into one cohesive whirlwind of color and activity.

“Well, that’s what happens to guys who are smitten with a girl they can’t have. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Biting your lip, you murmured, “No, I wouldn’t.”

Yugyeom chortled, “Yeah, if he finds that girl, then I retract my statement.”

Your brow furrowed and you abandoned the window in favor of his face. “Which statement?”

Yugyeom turned to you, taking his eyes off the road momentarily, and said, “About him not being a rabbit.”

You laughed aloud. If your memories of Jinyoung were any indication, his sex drive was through the roof. There were too many times you met up with him between classes to have a quickie and too many nights of parking in his rickety truck on some old back road with only the fireflies to see what sins you committed together.

A personal favorite you thought of often was the summer night he had filled the bed of the truck with blankets over a worn-out mattress. In the pitch black darkness of the moonless night, the two of you were a tangled mess of limbs as you fumbled around to get busy.

“Ouch,” he said, coming to a stop between your thighs.

On your back with your legs in the air alongside his hips, you held his face between your hands and asked frantically, “What? What happened? Did I hurt you?”

Jinyoung snorted and you wished you could see his face. You could barely make out his form above you in the darkness.

“How could you hurt me? You’re on the bottom,” he teased in his heavy dialect.

“I don’t know,” you exclaimed, embarrassed. “I’m new at this. You always say I’m tight. What if I break your dick?”

Jinyoung laughed hard and you grinned at the sound.

“Please, don’t ever break my dick. There wouldn’t be enough therapy in the world to help me recover from that,” Jinyoung retorted, stealing a kiss and accidentally bumping into your nose.

“Ow,” you squeaked, pinching your nose until the pain began to fade.

“I’m sorry!”

“Why did you say ‘ouch’ in the first place?” you asked with irritation.

Jinyoung winced and groaned, “I think a mosquito bit my ass.”

You giggled.

Snapping out of your memories as the car came to a rolling stop, you took in the sight of your new home. The vertical condominium was wedged between a row of identical copies, all neutrally shaded with stark black gates and railings.

Yugyeom pressed a button on a small hob before handing the device to you. The garage door began to open and he maneuvered the car slowly inside.

“Here are your keys,” said the chauffeur after he unlocked the door for you, handing the key ring to your outstretched fingers. “I bid you adieu.”

You bowed in gratitude and replied, “Thank you, sir.”

The house was too big for your liking; much too generous for a single person to live in. The main living space was almost larger than your entire apartment. As you meandered through the new residence, you smiled when you took note of your personal items stationed throughout.

While with Jinyoung at his penthouse, the movers had transported all of your belongings in a matter of hours. At first, you thought this would infuriate you - strangers putting their hands on all of your things. Then, you remembered you didn’t actually own much.

Stepping into a small room adjacent to the bedroom, you couldn’t fight a broad smile when you surveyed the office space. Your textbooks were stacked neatly and your school supplies were no exception. Sitting on the rolling chair, you did a few turns before releasing a deep sigh and closing your eyes.

Maybe this overgrown house wasn’t so bad after all.

For the next two days, you settled in, making the place feel more like a home and less of a work perk. You brightened the rooms with color and light, taking pride in the place that Jinyoung was essentially lending to you.

But you constantly checked your phone, wondering why he hadn’t called or even texted. You resorted to drowning yourself in homework and exam prep, hoping to distract yourself from the endless thoughts of Jinyoung and his dumb, handsome face.

Even as you sat in class, the monotony of your physics professor faded into static, pushed away by memories of Jinyoung and his adorable laugh. How many years had it been since you heard him laugh? You grimaced. Jinyoung at that conference table looked hard and severe, like he hadn’t laughed in years.

That saddened you; the idea Jinyoung had been living a life without love or laughter. To keep the tears from your eyes, you focused on thermodynamics and forbid Jinyoung from your mind.

On the third afternoon, you finally got the call you had been anticipating.

Briefly, you stared at the phone and counted the seconds in your head, knowing he would despise having to sit through a few rings. “Yes, my lord?” you finally answered.

Jinyoung droned while he chewed his lunch, “Yugyeom is gonna bring you here. Be ready in 15.”

Feeling he was already about to hang up, you yelled, “I’ll need more time.”

Indignant, Jinyoung grumbled, swallowing whatever was in his mouth and asking, “What the hell for?”

“To shave my legs,” you deadpanned.

There was a pause, followed by a stern, “Don’t bother.”

Then, he hung up.

Frowning at the phone, you proceeded to spend an hour preparing yourself for the visit to Jinyoung’s penthouse. Whether or not you were actually going to have sex with him, you adorned yourself as if it were an ever-present possibility.

This game of his had hopelessly reeled you in.

Yugyeom arrived to get you in a sleek black car and you found him a comfortable place to sit in the grandiose living area. When you told him the fifteen minutes allotted would not suffice, he whipped out his phone and offered to keep himself busy whilst you took your sweet time.

Yugyeom was easily becoming your favorite person, especially when he commented at what a good job you had done breathing life back into the abandoned condo. The two of you gabbed about abstract art and the mint colored record player on your nearby table. Yugyeom was passionate about music and recommended an entire list of vinyls for you to give your ear to. He seemed to jump on board your plan to keep Jinyoung and his almighty ass waiting even longer.

Over an hour later, you stood in the cold, glass box that took you to the heights of the residential tower. Your freshly-shaved legs did not tolerate the chill well and you suddenly wished you had opted for pants instead of the high-waisted shorts.

But hell, your outfit was on point. The v-neck shirt was tucked into your navy blue bottoms and your favorite push-up bra was here to work, leaving little to the imagination where your cleavage was concerned. You had gone up a cup size leaving home, and you damn sure wanted Jinyoung to notice. But to avoid looking too blatant with your bare legs and perky breasts on display, you wore a crisp blazer over the ensemble; vaguely casual.

“Alright, I’m here,” you announced as you walked into the penthouse apartment. “Let’s do this.”

Perched in the kitchen, Jinyoung continued to eat his apple leisurely, raking the knife over a chunk before taking another bite. He leaned back against the sink, ankles crossed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans.

For the brief seconds you passed in front of him, Jinyoung did a full head-to-toe scan of your presence, lingering over every curve of your form and resisting the urge to nod his approval. With the trail of delicate, fruity scents following you, Jinyoung surmised you must have just come from a long, hot shower.

Unbuttoning your blazer, you propped your forearms on the counter directly next to him, sticking your ass into the air and glancing over your shoulder. Drumming your nails on the surface, you whined, “I’ll have you know I’ve had a very stressful day.”

Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung sighed, “I never would have guessed.”

Though he stood at your side, he felt miles away. You sashayed your hips a little, inevitably drawing his attention once more, and murmured coyly, “I’ve heard rage sex can help with that.”

“So can a nap.”

You grumbled at another battle lost, standing up straight and stealing the apple from his hand. After taking a loud bite, you murmured, “The boy I knew couldn’t keep his hands off of me.”

Without missing a beat, Jinyoung snatched the fruit back from your grasp and chuffed, “The girl I knew would never have traded her body for money.”

You nearly choked.

Jinyoung cut another piece of the apple and forced it into your parted mouth, saying, “You shouldn’t bite into an apple. It’s bad for your teeth.”

You watched him saunter away, noting the broad expanse of his shoulders and the way his dress shirt hugged every line and angle. Once upon a time, you knew how it felt to sink your fingers into his back, to anchor yourself to him in every way possible as he took you to the heights of ecstasy.

You also knew how it felt to let him hold you, to comfort you when you needed his love most. Jinyoung was no stranger to you waking up in the middle of the night screaming, doused in sweat as your dreams turned dark and violent. There were too many things you had seen in your lifetime and your mind could never forget them no matter how hard you tried.

Jinyoung was just another frightened kid, no different from you, but he knew what to say and what to do. You would rest your head in the bend of his arm, your smaller frame tucked to his body as he rocked you back and forth. He would murmur the most delicate of words until you drifted back to sleep.

The memories of how passionate Jinyoung could be with you, how mindlessly in love you had once been with each other, brought a fresh surge of frustration into your chest and the sensation radiated through your body to the point you felt heat behind your cheeks.

Vexed by his dismissals, you trudged toward the door, drawing his confused attention momentarily as you shouted, “I’m going with Yugyeom to get food!”

The sound of the door slamming ricocheted through the apartment. Jinyoung stood rooted in place, watching where you had just stormed out, and nonchalantly took one last bite from his apple before tossing the core into the trash bin.

God, you drove him crazy. He loved you to the point of madness. Everything you did was both certifiably adorable and yet absolutely infuriating in his eyes. This little game he played with you was the highlight of his life at the moment. He was finally reunited with a sense of peace now that he could see you again, but he had no intention of giving you absolution any time soon.

You plopped into the passenger seat, greeting a surprised Yugyeom as he had been playing on his phone. You took the mobile from him and proceeded to finish his round of Candy Crush, asking him to take you to the nearest convenience store for snacks.

“You were barely in there for two seconds,” Yugyeom said, revving up the engine.

You groaned and explained, “We argued already. He annoys me.”

Yugyeom chortled.

“Your phone is ringing,” you told him a moment later, seeing Jinyoung’s photo on the screen. “It’s the asshat.”

“Answer it then,” Yugyeom smarted, focused on the busy street he turned onto.

You did as told and chirped, “Yugyeom’s phone.”

Surprised to hear your voice on his driver’s line, Jinyoung said, “You didn’t take a guard with you.”

You rolled your eyes and whined, “I’m just going to buy snacks. How much trouble could I possibly get into?”

“What’s he complaining about?” Yugyeom asked with a laugh.

Hoping Jinyoung would notice the difference, you drastically softened your tone when speaking to Yugyeom, “We didn’t bring a babysitter.”

“Mr. Muscles is in the back,” Yugyeom replied.

“What?” you exclaimed, turning around.

Sure enough, Jackson the burly security guard was resting atop the seat, an arm tucked behind his head with his eyes closed. Though after hearing Yugyeom, he lifted a hand and waved his fingers to let you know he was well aware of the situation.

You giggled and quipped, “Unbelievable.”

“Alright then,” Jinyoung sighed, satisfied you had enough escorts for a measly trip.

“Why are you even worried about me?” you asked spitefully, grateful for the distance between you and Jinyoung at the moment. “I’m sure I’m easily replaceable.”

“I’m not having an argument with you over the phone,” Jinyoung replied calmly. “Though you sure are a lot braver whenever you’re on one.”

You scoffed, but had no rebuttal. It was true. After a nervous pause, you stammered, “Want anything from the store?”

Jinyoung barked, “Yeah, three or four bottles of soju. I’ll need them if you’re planning on staying longer than five minutes this time.”

“You bastard,” you fired back. “I offered you my ass on a silver platter and you would rather talk about apples.”

Yugyeom and Jackson both made noises of amusement, though the latter still kept his eyes closed in an attempt to catch a nap.

There was absolutely no fluctuation in Jinyoung’s voice when he grumbled, “Yeah, because nothing turns a guy on like his girl flopping onto the kitchen counter.”

Bristling with fury, you snapped, “How would I know what turns a guy on? It’s been years since I slept with you.”

“Me?” Jinyoung questioned.

“Huh?”

Jinyoung shifted his weight, drifting into his bedroom, and asked, “I’m the last person you slept with?”

Immediately, you realized what you had said and fell rather spectacularly into a panic. “I’m gonna hang up now.”

Jinyoung countered in a low threat, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You pulled the phone from your ear and stared at the screen, biting your lip as adrenaline rose in your chest. After a few tense seconds, you pressed the phone back to your cheek and whispered, “Yes.”

Jinyoung was clearly off balance after your confession, because his tone was tender and soft when he spoke, “No one else has touched you?”

Pinching your lips together, you wrestled with what to say. Had he assumed you had moved on from him? That you had gotten into bed with other men in an attempt to forget about him?

Firmly, you replied, “No.”

It was true. You had found and lost love with Jinyoung. You knew you wouldn’t find it with anyone else - you would only find it where you had left it.

Now, it was Jinyoung’s turn to be silent. After a moment, he murmured, “I didn’t know that.”

Why did he sound skeptical? Did he think you were lying to please him?

Wrath reared its ugly head again and you snapped, “Oh, I’m sorry I’m not a massive slut. Does this lower my street value?”

Jinyoung snarled, “Careful...”

“Wait, it should raise my worth, right? I’m sorry…” you trailed with a hollow chuckle to hide your wounded pride. “I’m not up to speed on prostitution practices.”

Running out of patience, Jinyoung hissed your name.

Squeezing the phone, you shouted into the receiver with loathing, “The last girl you paid to fuck you, should I call her for some advice?”

“Oh, shit,” Yugyeom suddenly exclaimed, slamming the breaks as a car darted out in front of him.

You screamed when the vehicles collided and inadvertently dropped the phone onto the floor between your feet. While you lurched forward from the impact, your taut safety belt shoved you back into the seat. Fortunately, you and your companions were unscathed.

“Real nice, Yugyeom,” Jackson chastised, opening his door and stepping out to survey the damage.

“Don’t get out,” Yugyeom told you as you reached for your handle.

You nodded, watching the man in the opposing vehicle storm up to the car you were in and slam both of his hands on the hood. Jackson approached him, speaking diplomatically, but the other man was shouting, motioning between the two of them.

“I wanna go back now,” you spoke shakily, eyes on the drama unfolding.

When his polite manners didn’t do the trick, Jackson braced his hands on the man’s chest and shoved him away, warning him to settle down or there would be consequences. After handing the stranger a few bills from the wad of cash in his pocket, both parties returned to their vehicles amicably.

“What are you paying him for?” Yugyeom exclaimed with discontent as Jackson slid back into the car. “We had the right of way!”

“Just go before the police show up,” Jackson ordered, reaching into his back pocket with a groan when his phone began to ring. He patiently answered, “Yeah, boss? No, we’re fine. She’s fine. It was a tiny collision. She does? No, she seems alright to me.”

“I’m right here,” you grumbled, glancing over your shoulder. The concept of Jinyoung being worried about you warmed your icy heart for a moment, but you were still too annoyed to let the gesture soften you.

“I will keep an eye on it,” Jackson whispered, then hung up.

“He told you about my history with car accidents, did he?”

Jackson relaxed back into his seat, like nothing had happened, and said, “He just told me to watch out for the signs, that’s all.”

“I’m fine,” you asserted. “My reaction is totally normal.”

“Really?” Jackson persisted. “Because my hands stopped shaking already. How about yours?”

You glanced down at your lap and saw your quivering fingers, immediately folding your arms and gazing out the window.

Stepping into the penthouse after a short return drive, you came face-to-face with a livid Jinyoung. Before he could utter a word, you sassed, “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

He narrowed his eyes in reproach. “That’s not funny.”

Putting your hands on your hips, you dodged him and sang in a taunt, “It’s a shame you’ve lost your sense of humor, among other things.”

Jinyoung’s sharp tongue was not to be underestimated and he was quick to retort, “Yeah, it must be out there fucking what’s left of your dignity.”

You scowled, enraged.

Jinyoung planted his feet, crossed his arms over his chest, and asked sternly, “Why haven’t you been with anyone else?”

A ripple of nerves shot through you and you deflected, “Are we really gonna have this conversation now?”

Jinyoung would never admit it, but he was overcome with feelings toward you. You had stayed faithful to him. Even though you left him, you had made no attempts to replace him. Every fiber of his being was drawn to you, desperate to have you in his arms.

“Why not?” Jinyoung finally pressed, advancing toward you.

Folding your arms, you stuck out your hip and tapped your foot. “Have you been with anyone else?”

Jinyoung wagged his finger. “I asked you first.”

“No, Jinyoung,” you admitted with a heavy sigh, abandoning any ideas about lying to him. “I haven’t been with anyone since you. I’m not capable of trusting another person that much.”

Harshening his expression, Jinyoung sneered, “Trust is a funny thing, isn’t it?”

You bristled, reading his tone.

“I’m suddenly reminded of how much I trusted you until the day you jumped in that truck and ran away from me.”

You threw up your hands, assuming he was back to the game, back to his desire to punish you. Exhausted, you choked, “I wasn’t doing it to get away from you.”

Jinyoung scoffed, “Really?”

“Don’t talk to me like you fucking know me,” you yelled, drifting toward his room for much needed solitude.

Jinyoung’s gaze narrowed, fire coursing through his veins when he hissed, “I’m the only one that knows you.”

With a roll of your eyes, you stomped to his bedroom and slammed the door behind you. Plopping down on his bed, you fell to your back and focused on calming your racing heart. Because arguing with Jinyoung didn’t scare you - it excited you.

When you were with Jinyoung, the two of you got into fiery debates rather often. Both of you were reckless with your emotions, quick to indulge your tempers given the right situations pushed the right buttons. You and Jinyoung were adept at flinging sharp words and insults, but you never felt fear or emotional injury from your sparring with him. Jinyoung was the boy who held your heart. You knew he would never break it.

At least, not until you broke his.

Voices drew your attention a few minutes later. Jinyoung had made no attempts to engage further with you and you were slightly disappointed. Meanwhile, you had been grappling with the spikes of adrenaline still holding your attention.

It amazed you how little compassion your own brain had for your emotional well-being. Whether it be a small collision or even a fake car accident in a film, seeing either would bring back every visceral detail of the day you learned how dangerous your home had become.

The van had slammed into your truck, totalling it with ease. Your head hit the window and a concussion nearly faded your vision to black. Before you slipped into unconsciousness, your body alerted you to more impending danger - of men dragging you from the wreckage with no intention of rescuing you.

Jinyoung would never understand your hatred for the gangs. Not unless he had been through what you had endured that day.

Snapping from your dark thoughts, you opened the door and stepped toward the living area. You needed to see Jinyoung, needed him to anchor you back to reality. No matter the hurt and pain between you and him, he was the uncontested safest place in the world.

“Jinyoung,” you called unsurely, voice shaking as the conflict grew louder.

In your three days of being one of Jinyoung’s “employees,” you had only met Bambam once and all you knew about him was his handling of Jinyoung’s business relationships. He seemed to be the orchestrater, the man with his hands in every cookie jar.

At the moment, Bambam was shouting, visibly enraged. Even though his anger was not remotely directed at you, your instinct was to cower into the corner to make yourself a smaller target. As you paced backwards slightly, head down in submission, Jinyoung clocked a weathered glance at your movements.

While Bambam continued to rant, you thought of your mother - the way she screamed at you and her voice would carry through the house, ricocheting from every surface to the point you thought you were surrounded. At the memory, your breathing began to shallow and you stared at the floor.

“Stop raising your voice,” Jinyoung warned his friend, but his eyes were fixated on you.

Oblivious, Bambam persisted, “I’m sorry, but this is the biggest screw up since…”

Jinyoung cut him off to snarl in reproach, “Shut up.”

You remembered the way you had screamed when those men tore you from the car and the sound flooded all of your senses until you truly believed you were back in that same place all over again. The memories were snowballing, piling one after the other until you were buried under an avalanche of trauma.

“Jinyoung,” called Jackson worriedly, having finally noticed you.

“I know,” Jinyoung answered as he made his way over to you, grabbing your arms and guiding you to the floor. “Sit. Sit.”

To everyone in the room, you looked like a startled animal, eyes wide and chest heaving for breath. Following Jinyoung’s instructions, you wouldn’t call what you did sitting, per se. You more or less collapsed to the ground; your legs folding under you like a lawn chair.

Frantic, Yugyeom asked, “What’s wrong with her?”

Jinyoung pushed some of your hair out of your face and answered, “She’s having a panic attack.”

“Because of me?” Bambam blinked.

Yugyeom was quick to scold, “No, you idiot. You’re just the cherry on top of a milkshake from hell.”

Clenching his jaw, Jackson turned to Bambam and added, “There was a little incident earlier.”

At the phrase, your mind gave you rapid glimpses of the car accident and your chest tightened all the more. Many pairs of eyes were on you now and your brain warned they were systematically draining all of the oxygen out of the room, robbing you of much-needed air.

“No, no, don’t look at them. Look at me,” Jinyoung demanded, cupping your face. “I’m the only one that matters. I’m the only one here.”

You wanted desperately to wrangle your breathing back to normal. You screamed at yourself in your mind that you were overreacting, that you were spiraling out of control for no rational reason.

“Everybody, get out,” Jinyoung ordered under his breath, careful not to shout in your presence as he seethed before you.

Shuddering, you choked in an attempt to gulp in more air.

Jinyoung gripped you, gentle but secure, and ordered, “Hey, hold my arms and close your eyes. Focus on breathing.”

You winched your eyes shut and imagined waves lapping on some distant shore. Even in your mind, the place you tried to seek was dark with storm clouds, the ground quaking when thunder boomed overhead.

“That’s it. Just relax. I’m right here with you.”

His voice seemed muffled by the rushing of blood in your ears. Your skull pounded, oversaturated with survival responses.

Jinyoung watched your face, relieved to see you were settling down in response to his words. Once upon a time, he was adept at saving you from yourself. Shushing your whimpers softly, he sighed, “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe with me.”

The panic gave you one last spike of terror, a final attempt of claiming you. You hyperventilated in response, shaking at a fresh onslaught of adrenaline, but it was subdued and losing its power.

Jinyoung brushed his thumb through the tear rolling down your cheek and said, “Breathe.”

His voice echoed in your head, drowning out everything else.

“You’re doing great.”

You relaxed, breathing steadily.

Jinyoung angled his body, pressing two fingers to your wrist and seeking out your pulse. Satisfied at the speed, he ordered, “Open your eyes now.”

Your eyes cracked open slowly, tears escaping your lashes and streaming down your face. Meeting his penchant stare, you rasped, “Jinyoung?”

“Not now, sweetheart. Just focus on you,” he calmed. “We have plenty of time to talk.”

Composing yourself, you took a deep inhale and released the air. Feeling marginally better, you joked, “This day fucking blows.”

Jinyoung chortled briefly. “I know.”

Letting your hands slide from his arms, you began, “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I got carried away.”

Jinyoung fervently shook his head. “Don’t apologize.”

Both of you got to your feet, the room thick with tension of a different kind. A smile forced its way to your lips as you had caught a glimpse of the old Jinyoung - the boy who loved you more than himself and never failed to drive away your nightmares.

Calling his name, you reached out for him and stammered, “Can we… just stop being angry with each other?”

Jinyoung exhaled, morose. Giving your hand a squeeze before letting go, he explained, “You’re angry with me. I’m angry with you. Time will fix that.”

You watched him escape into his adjacent bedroom and you followed without any doubts.

For minutes that passed much too quickly, you had been safe and sound in Jinyoung’s arms. Even now, every aspect of his body language was open and inviting. If you wanted to rush back into his embrace, you had no doubt you would be welcome to do so.

Noticing you had shadowed him into the bedroom, Jinyoung studied you and asked, “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him with a nod. “I promise.”

“Alright, then,” he replied, turning to leave. Your presence was suffocating him. He had too many desires toward you at the moment and he didn’t want to act on them yet. This was a slow burn - a power play he had to win in the end.

You sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at your hands and relieved to see they were no longer shaking. Rubbing your fingers together, you watched Jinyoung pilfer his pocket for a cell phone, dialing a number.

“Stay here and take it easy. I’m going to send everyone home,” he told you passively, striding out of the room before you could answer.

You nodded your understanding and listened to his footsteps fade away. Resisting a smile, you glanced around the room and mulled over the silly boy you loved. He was already trying to repair his harsh exterior, forcing any buffer he could to keep you from seeing he was still the soft, kind Jinyoung you knew.

Your overwhelming desire at the moment was to kiss him - to press your lips to every inch of his face and neck until he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you with the fire and passion you knew he possessed.

A moment later, Jinyoung returned to the bedroom, relieved to see you hadn’t moved. Giving you a look over, the two of you merely studied each other, neither uttering a word. Where did you both stand in this relationship now?

Jinyoung could see the affection in your eyes. He had soothed your fear and rage in one moment of tenderness and vulnerability. He wanted nothing more than to hold you, to cradle you in his arms and let you fall asleep under his watchful gaze. For the past four years, he had been denied your warmth, parted from the feeling of your skin against his. Meanwhile, his heart - which he had started to believe was long gone - ached in his chest, twisting with need at the sight of you before him.

When Jinyoung shifted his weight, you knew he was a split-second away from finding a reason to crash on the couch; to put some distance between the two of you in order to hold on to his need to punish you. Longing to keep him close, you called, “Can I ask you for something?”

“Mm-hm,” he hummed, eyebrows raised with curiosity.

Your eyes were alight with hope as you posed the request, “Let me sleep in here tonight.”

And there it was. Mulling through indecision, Jinyoung decided he could lose a battle or two if it meant he would still win the war. After what happened over the course of the day, there was no way he could deny you any longer.

Ultimately, Jinyoung shrugged, feigning indifference, and he surrendered. “Fine.”

Blushing, you quipped to ease the tension, “I won’t make any moves on you, I swear.”

“Take off your jacket,” Jinyoung countered lowly, without missing a beat.

“Okay,” you replied, slipping out of the blazer as your brow stitched. “Why?”

Jinyoung salivated at the sight of your body in the tight outfit. He wanted to bury his face in your full breasts and grab handfuls of your plump ass, but managed to keep his composure for the time being.

Judging by the emotionless look on his face, you had absolutely no idea of the dirty thoughts racing through his mind. Jinyoung was momentarily daydreaming of all the many, many times he had taken pleasure from your body and given you back more in return.

Jinyoung began rolling up his sleeves, like he had a job to do that would undoubtedly require him getting his hands dirty, and replied, “I will give you a taste of what you want.”

Confused, you weren’t entirely up to speed yet with his shift in disposition and you searched his expression for an answer. “And what is that?” you questioned innocently.

“Put your hair up.”

You cocked your head, curious.

“Put your hair in a ponytail,” Jinyoung spoke slowly, almost patronizingly, when you failed to obey and pointed at the crown of your head.

With a roll of your eyes at what he could be playing at, you did as told and pulled a tie from your wrist to restrain your hair.

Jinyoung approached you, nose-to-nose, and surprised you when he reached around your head and grabbed the ponytail in his fist. You groaned at the sharp, forceful contact and braced your hands on his chest.

“Strip,” Jinyoung ordered, nipping at your lips.

Eyes widening, you could hardly believe your ears and you complied with his demand as if it were your body’s natural reflex. Jinyoung kept a solid hold on your hair and kissed you with abandon, smiling against your mouth when he felt you trying to shuffle out of your shorts.

Jinyoung cupped your jaw as he slipped his tongue along your bottom lip, teasing you for entrance. Rather than give in, you leaned into him and shoved your tongue into his mouth, stumbling as your shorts landed around your ankles. Jinyoung chuckled at your mindless urgency and the sound registered in your chest, causing you to smile while you played with his tongue.

His hand fell from your cheek, landing on your clothed breast and palming at the mound before grabbing the hem of your shirt and yanking it to the side to expose your bra. When you heard the material rip slightly, you broke from his mouth to gasp, but in the next instant, his palm was on your waist and stroking up your bare stomach.

The heat of his touch traveled up to your head and clouded your thoughts. You could hear and feel every harsh thump of your racing pulse in your ears. Your heart was clenching in your chest, celebrating at the taste of victory. Jinyoung was touching you. He was kissing you with the fervor of someone that had never stopped loving you.

Impatient, Jinyoung released you just long enough to spin you around, facing you away from him. You called his name, heat fogging your mind even more from the rush of arousal of his rough grip on you. Jinyoung guided you to his dresser, pushing you into it with the insistence of a man starved for the feel of your body beneath his.

Your hands collided and fumbled with his as both of you made it your mission to get you out of all your clothes. When you reached behind yourself to fiddle with his zipper, Jinyoung grasped your wrist and brought it to the dresser, pinning you there.

Jinyoung was completely clothed when he pressed to your back. It was symbolic - you were naked and wholly vulnerable, but he was guarded and concealed.

Bracing yourself on the dresser, you closed your eyes and hummed with pleasure, shivering at the feel of his warm, roaming hands on your body. His palms skimmed and traced every expanse of your bare skin, touching you with the seasoned experience of a boy who once knew every inch of you intimately.

Jinyoung groaned at how soft you felt against his fingertips. You hadn’t changed at all. He could see every shaky breath you took and thrived off of the effect he had on you. Sensing you were desperate for his touch, Jinyoung kissed beneath your ear and coiled his arms around your naked waist like a noose.

“I want you to know something,” Jinyoung murmured, tonguing a path up the side of your neck while he tangled a fist in your ponytail. “But first, don’t utter a word.”

You nodded your understanding and submitted to his dominance, purring when his hand lowered between your legs.

“I’ve fucked many women since you left me,” he sneered in a low whisper. “None of them could fill the emptiness you left behind.”

A rancid taste took root in your mouth as the revelation weighed heavily on your heart. Other women had slept with your man. There were whores out there that knew how it felt to have him inside them. You clenched your jaw and checked your anger, because unadulterated rage was beginning to boil in your chest.

Smirking at the way you stiffened against him, Jinyoung teased his fingers beneath your lower lips, chuckling devilishly when he felt the dampness and warmth of your flesh. He coated his digits in your arousal, playfully teasing your entrance until your hips jerked forward involuntarily toward his hand.

Feeling you getting riled up, Jinyoung chose to growl in your ear, “I closed my eyes every time, imagining you on top of me, but I knew better. They weren’t as warm as you. They weren’t as tight as you. They didn’t make those sounds I know you make.”

You wanted to be aroused by this. You would have preferred his words to fuel your ego, but you were too busy being absolutely infuriated. The territorial streak you possessed flared and you quickly pushed on the dresser in an attempt to loosen his hold on you.

Jinyoung chuckled, releasing his grip on your hair to reaffirm his arms around your waist. “Where are you going, baby?” he teased against your neck.

Irritable, you growled, “You fucked other women?”

Jinyoung was thrilled to hear your envy and he squeezed your bare breast to annoy you some more. “Of course, I did,” he replied with a spiteful edge to his voice as he pushed his way into your entrance. “You weren’t around.”

You were momentarily distracted from being angry when his thumb rolled your clit and a tiny whimper left your lips. Jinyoung pumped his digits into your wet pussy, stroking your sweet spot with the pads of his fingers.

After a gasp at the feel of your walls stretching around his penetration, you clenched your jaw and spat, “You are the only person I have ever been with. You’re the only person I’ve ever fucking kissed, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung snickered and sighed on your shoulder, “Are you jealous, sweetheart?”

“No,” you smarted bitterly. “How could I be jealous of what’s rightfully mine?”

Thrumming at your declaration, Jinyoung grinned with pride and whispered, “Would you feel better if I told you I just used them to get myself off? I never concerned myself with pleasuring them?”

That did little to mollify you and you told him as much. “You were still inside them.”

“I didn’t come in any of them. Couldn’t risk that.” His voice dropped to a whisper when he added, “I miss coming inside this gorgeous bitch though.”

You shivered at his words, biting your lip as you remembered the times Jinyoung would say the dirtiest, nastiest shit to turn you on. Meanwhile, your memories also reminded you how it felt to push Jinyoung over the edge, to feel him losing himself on top of you. With a wiggle of your ass against his crotch and the obvious erection trapped in his pants, you whined, “I’m still mad at you.”

Jinyoung crowded your back a little more aggressively, sinking his fingers into your warmth down to the base of his knuckles. Chuckling at the way your legs quivered and you struggled to keep balance, he teased, “Well, I suggest you get over that in the next two minutes.”

Squeezing the corners of the dresser, you cried, “What do you want from me?”

“Right now, I just want you to relax,” Jinyoung crooned, stroking his free hand across your breasts and toying with your hard nipples. “I really wanna watch you come.”

“Mm,” you moaned, bidding yourself to ignore how angry he made you and focus more on his fleeting desire to pleasure you.

Jinyoung sank his teeth into the base of your neck and tongued at the crimson mark forming. Inhaling the scent of your hair, he growled, “You always looked so beautiful when you came for me.”

Listening to your pussy squelching around his fingers, you panted, “Jinyoung, I’m wet enough. Take me.”

“Who are you telling?” he chided, his fingers moving at an even faster pace. “I’m the one with a hand between your legs.”

“Jinyoung,” you moaned, desperate.

Jinyoung rolled your clit with this thumb and groaned in the back of his throat at the feel of your arousal dripping down his hand. “Tell me what you want,” he sighed.

“I want...” you stammered, releasing little noises every time his digits plunged into your core, stroking your walls good and rough.

You knew what you were about to say. You had passed beyond want and settled into need. Winching your eyes closed and sinking your teeth into your lip, you imagined how it would feel to make love to him after all these years; to feel yourself one with him again.

You craved it on a primal level, mouth watering at the mere thought.

When you failed to answer, Jinyoung seemed to read your steamy thoughts and released a shaky, aroused breath on your neck, rumbling, “Tell me.”

“You inside me,” you confessed without hesitation.

God, he wanted that. Your pussy was warm and welcoming around his fingers. He knew your cunt would clamp down on his cock in a vice grip.

His hips stuttered, smacking into your bare ass from behind in a seeking thrust. His body wanted nothing more than to go on autopilot. Feeling your naked skin and your undeniable heat pushed him to the height of his tolerance.

But Jinyoung was well in control of his priorities and pitilessly reminded, “I am inside you.”

Rolling your eyes with annoyance, you whimpered, “That’s not what I...”

With a vengeance, Jinyoung shoved his fingers deep inside your walls to match his words, “You want my cock?”

“Yes,” you cried out, moving your hips to match the speed of his hand.

Hunger gripped his voice as he continued, “You want this thick cock to fill you up?”

“Yes,” you shouted, grasping the corners of the dresser until your knuckles began to ache.

“No.”

Blinking in surprise, you exclaimed, “What?”

“I said no.”

Frustrated, you bounced your hips, driving to meet his fingers and simultaneously ensuring your ass coaxed against the bulge in his jeans. Though you weren’t clueless as far as this power struggle between you and your ex-boyfriend was concerned, you asked, “Why?”

“You know why.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Jinyoung bore down on you, wedging you underneath him with no way of escape. You howled his name and pleaded for mercy when his hand picked up speed, drilling against your sweet spot while his thumb rubbed your clit borderline viciously.

The orgasm slammed into you, consuming you - mind and body. You moaned at the top of your lungs, the sound abruptly cutting off as you shook in his arms. Your back curved against his body and you pushed at his hand frantically when the stimulation became more than you could bear.

“Oh, god,” you sobbed, fluttering limply onto the dresser and burying your face between your arms. Jinyoung was still ever so slightly sinking his fingers in and out of your heat, coaxing the aftershocks out of you while he rutted his clothed cock along your ass.

“Good girl,” he snarled almost inaudibly, fighting a grin at how hard you had climaxed from his fingers alone. You were extremely sensitive, which led him to believe this was the first orgasm you had experienced in quite a while. And he wasn’t wrong.

Jinyoung kept his body draped over yours and grabbed you by the throat. His lips were wet with saliva as he blazed a trail up the side of your neck before whispering, “I would love nothing more than to fuck the shit out of you. To stretch you open with my cock and fill you with cum like you want, but I won’t. Not until you beg me and not a moment before you admit you were wrong for leaving me the way you did.”

Tears pricked your eyes from the ministrations of his thumb rolling your engorged bundle of nerves, but were spurned even further by his words. You merely lay there with his body overtop yours, feeling the cold of the dresser against your breasts, and wishing to all the heavens he would just take you.

But more than anything, you wanted him to forgive you.

Jinyoung withdrew his hand and wiped your juices off on his jeans carelessly before opening the drawer at your side and finding a roomy shirt for you to wear.

“I’m back to being mad at you,” you hissed after finally lifting yourself from the dresser.

Jinyoung said nothing, though he gave you a stern, unaffected look before pulling the sweater over your head. You lifted your arms into the air and allowed him to dress you. Then, you shuffled to his bed.

You were disappointed but obviously not surprised when he didn’t join you. Noting an outline of the hard dick in his jeans, you watched him step toward the bathroom and considered pressing your ear to the door to listen to him relieve himself.

“By the way, I lied,” Jinyoung said as he stood in the open doorway.

Shifting under the blankets, you asked with indifference, “About what?”

Jinyoung settled his gaze on you, licking his lips at the sight of you sated and comfortable in his bed, and confessed, “I haven’t touched any women since you. I don’t have anything to give to another person. You took it all.”

Then, he closed the bathroom door behind him and left you to your solitary thoughts, missing the sight of the victorious smile that claimed your swollen lips.

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a/n : this story was previously Lacuna on my old blog, minheoney. I’m really excited to finally finish it! This fic was my baby for so long and I’m ridiculously happy to give it a new home :)

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

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{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[probably-writing-x]

Admittance pt.9

Guzmán x Reader

Gif is not my own

Requests are closed🤍

Just as Guzmán had promised, you found yourself returning to school with the idea that you’d actually be graduating. They’d make sure you had a strong grade average by the time you had to leave for maternity, and they’d give you extra exams in that time to make up for the finals you’d be missing. It wasn’t perfect or conventional but you’d make it work - which was generally the motto for anything you did recently.

You now found yourself with another weekend off, though this one not running as smoothly as the others. Omar and Ander had been arguing and were now basically not talking to each other as Omar had gone to stay with Rebe for a few days. It had started over Ander getting annoyed at his boyfriend for not keeping up with school work and had spiralled ever since then.

“Still nothing?” Guzmán walks in through to the bedroom where you were sat watching Ander outside through your window.

He’d been out on his balcony for over an hour, phone in his hand like he was waiting to call Omar but still not finding the courage to do so.

“Nope,” You sigh, resting a hand on your bump, “I’m sure he dialled the number at one point but nothing more than that.”

“Shit man, how long will this go on for?”

“Well last time it lasted about a day because Omar realised he’d left his charger here so he had to come back. And as soon as they saw each other they were fine,” You explain as Guzmán flops onto the bed beside you, handing you a drink he’d collected from the kitchen along with your lunch.

“A day?” He raises his brows, “It’s already been three.”

“Exactly,” You sigh, “This is the worst it’s been in a long while. They’ve been fine since the start of the school year, since Ander went into remission.”

Guzmán sighs and takes a forkful of his food, “Come on, eat your food.”

“I swear I’m losing interest in everything,” You sigh, pushing around the pasta on your plate with disinterest.

“Well what do you fancy instead? And don’t say pickles because I can’t stand the smell anymore.”

“It’s cravings, I used to hate them too,” You laugh, “Don’t blame me, blame the baby.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, glancing back to the window, “Oh shit he’s pacing again.”

You felt like nosey neighbours watching your brother like this but it had made for good viewing for you and Guzmán as you watched him. You’d been keeping as updated as you could about the situation but Ander refused to talk about it at all.

“Come on, eat your food,” Guzmán nudges you again, “And I’ll make sure you get some more pickles at the shop if you do.”

You grin at him and take a forkful of the pasta dish he’d made for both of you.

He cocks a brow, “Not so bad is it?”

- - - - - -

It’s later in the day when Ander finally comes back inside, as the sun is setting and he’d moved to instead pace around the garden, and he’s got a face on him like he’s willing to murder a man. He storms straight past where you and Guzmán are sat in the lounge and walks straight upstairs to his room.

“Honey we’re going to have to do something,” Guzmán sighs.

“Honey?” You raise your brows, “We’re using pet names now? Wow, that’s a big step.”

He deadpans at your sarcasm, trying to hide the embarrassment on his cheeks, “It just slipped out, okay? Did you really need to bring it up?”

“Alright, darling,” You wiggle your brows, “But you’re right, I’m going to go and speak to Ander. There’s only so annoyed he can get at a pregnant woman.”

“Oh god good luck,” Guzmán laughs, walking over and kissing you quickly, “Shout if you need help.”

You head upstairs into your brother’s bedroom and find him laying face down on his bed, his phone still by his side. You walk over and lay down on the other side of the bed, your head on the end where his feet were as you stare up at the ceiling. You’d always done this when you were kids and it had stuck ever since then.

“He still hasn’t spoken to me (Y/n),” Ander begins after some time, seeming weak in his words, “It’s been three days.”

“He’ll come around, maybe you should try calling him first. Or going round there.”

He groans and turns over so he’s facing the ceiling too, “But I still agree with what I said. I think he needs to try harder in school, I don’t want him to fail again and not graduate.”

“I get that Ander, and you’re just looking out for him,” You encourage, “But you need to see it from his perspective. For the first time in his life, he’s genuinely happy. He’s got you, and you’re living together. He’s doing well in school, things aren’t so bad with his parents, and it’s like he’s found his chosen family. Maybe he just wants to enjoy that, and not spend every day focused on school.”

“I spoke to him about Malick too, I shouldn’t have brought it up but I was annoyed and I-“ He stops himself and sighs, pushing himself to sit up in the bed.

“Okay, well I don’t think that was a good idea. But it’s not something you can’t work past, when haven’t you two worked past your problems?”

He looks down at his lap and fiddles with the hem of his T-shirt as you wobble a little and manage to sit up too.

“I really thought I’d lost him before he went to New York. I was so sure he wouldn’t come back. This is the first time we’ve argued since then, and I guess I’m just terrified that this will be what pushes him away again.”

“Then I shouldn’t be the one you’re fucking saying that to!” You exclaim and throw a cushion at him, “God, one of us clearly got all of the brains in the family!”

He smiles but it doesn’t fully meet his eyes like it managed to whenever he was looking at Omar, “What should I do?”

“I think I have an idea...”

- - - - - -

“Do you really think it’s a good idea for you to be going to a club (Y/n)?” Guzmán asks once again as you, him and Ander get out of the taxi.

“The vip area is hardly a club, and there’ll barely be anyone there, and I’m not planning on drinking. If it’s bad, I can sit down. Stop being so protective,” You ruffle his hair and head inside, “Do I need to repeat myself again?”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea (Y/n),” Ander slows down as you’re nearing the doors.

“Don’t bail on me now brother,” You shake your head, grabbing his arm as you pull him inside, “Omar’s working the upstairs bar, and his shift finishes in five minutes. Meaning you need to be there to meet him in approximately four minutes. So, get your ass upstairs and follow every step of the plan.”

Guzmán settles a hand on your back as all three of you go to walk upstairs. The bouncer gives you an odd look as he notices your bump but Guzmán gives him a harsh enough glare to mean he won’t question it. There are a few people from your year already scattered around the vip area of the club but your eyes instantly go to Omar as you can see him getting ready to finish his shift.

You watch Ander walk over as Omar gives him that look that tells him he didn’t want to argue here. But instead of arguing, you see him accept your brothers offer to go downstairs and dance in the club just as they had done before, when they’d first properly confirmed that they wanted to be together. You walk over to the window and watch them head downstairs, seeing the bright smile spread onto Ander’s face as soon as he his face to face with Omar.

“I believe my job here is done,” You mumble, watching as Guzmán comes up beside you.

“Does that mean we can go home?” He cocks a brow.

You turn to face him, settling your hands on your swollen belly, “Do I not look fit for a club?”

He chuckles and it creates the creases beside his eyes so distinctively, “Not exactly. I think it’s the bump that really does it.”

You smile, “We can go if you want to. I just thought maybe you’d want to actually spend some time in a club, when was the last time you went to a party?”

“I don’t want to go to parties,” He defends instantly.

“Come on Guzmán. You spend every evening with me, dont you miss just going out and drinking with your friends?”

“Don’t you?”

“That’s different,” You roll your eyes, “I can’t do any of that, you still can.”

“For as long as you can’t, I won’t,” He shrugs, “Is that a problem?”

He reaches out his hands and holds both of yours, lacing your fingers together. There’s only so close you can stand now that your bump was between you but that small contact is just as much.

“It can’t be easy for you Guzmán,” You sigh, “A lot has changed in the past months, I don’t want you to feel like you have nothing left of your old life. You still can do. And it’s not easy to-“

“Everything is easy when it comes to you,” He interjects.

You scoff, trying to hide your blush whilst his eyes were so intently focused on you.

“You’ve given me a purpose (Y/n), that goes beyond being popular or keeping up a reputation. I have a reason to want to be something. And if that means I spend seven nights a week sat at home with you, talking about birthing methods, or watching films about being parents, or falling asleep before ten pm - I don’t care. In fact, I fucking love it!”

You giggle, “You make us sound like such an old couple!”

“Maybe so,” He nods, fighting back his own bright grin, “But I’ll take that any day.”

“Are you sure about that?”

He lifts your hands up and kisses one of them softly, “Lets get out of here.”

- - - - - -

Rightly so, that night you and Guzmán head back home and fall asleep before midnight hits. You’re wearing a T-shirt that you’ve worn for the past three days in a row and he’s snoring before you’re even asleep. The next morning, you wake up as you hear clattering in the kitchen and groan as you try to push yourself out of bed.

“What’s going on?” You sigh, rubbing your eyes to try to wake yourself up.

Ander and Omar look at you with guilty expressions.

“We’ve only just got in,” Ander smirks, “We were going to make some food.”

“You’ve just got home? Ander it’s like seven in the morning!”

Omar laughs, “We got lost and decided to walk home! It sobered us up though so we’re not doing bad.”

“Sober?” You scoff, becoming practically intoxicated yourself by the alcohol fumes coming off them, “Go into the lounge, I’ll make you some breakfast.”

They’re a mess of half-drunk giggles as they stumble with each other back to the couch in the lounge. They’re basically all over each other, a lot more PDA than they would ever be sober. But it warms your heart to see it, no longer fearful of Ander’s foul moods. Somehow, whenever things were fine with Omar, everything seemed to be fine in Anders life.

You go about making them some tea and toast to try to sober them up at least a little bit but when you walk into the lounge, they’re both flat out asleep on the sofa. You set down the food and head back upstairs with your own food to find Guzmán now awake in bed.

“Where did you go?” He frowns, poking open one eye to look at you.

“Ander and Omar just got home, looks like they had a good night,” You chuckle, carrying over the plate of toast and mug of tea.

“You made me breakfast?” Guzmán raises his brows, “What did I do to deserve this?”

You laugh and sit back down onto the bed next to him. His hair is messy from always moving in his sleep, and his eyes are puffy as they always were when he just woke up, and his voice still hasn’t reset back to normal tone, and he’s getting the shadows of stubble from where he was overdue a shave. And in every way it looks like you’re looking at yourselves as a married couple. You didn’t have that young spark that Ander and Omar had because yours and Guzman’s relationship had been built on completely different foundations. But somehow it worked somewhat perfectly for both of you.

He takes a bite of the buttery toast and opens an arm for you to lean into him as you take another piece from the plate.

Maybe he was right to say that you didn’t need the fancy nights out like Omar and Ander had. You didn’t need to be rolling into the house at 6am with enough alcohol in your system to last all day. You’d learnt pretty quickly that you wouldn’t have that for a long time. When your daughter was born, and this pregnancy was over, you wouldn’t have that again then. Instead, you’d be bringing a life into the world. You’d have commitments and responsibilities and the horror of feeling like you were doing everything wrong. At age 18, that seemed terrifying. But somehow manageable if you were doing it together.

“What are you thinking about?” Guzmán asks tiredly, snuggling into you a little like he could close anymore space.

“We’re really boring,” You comment, “But somehow, in a good way.”

“I’ll take that any day,” Guzmán chuckles, kissing your forehead, “And life certainly won’t be boring as soon as this one comes along. It will be far from boring.”

You smile and settle your hand over your bump next to where his rested, “What do you feel like doing today?”

“How about we order in a takeaway, put on some cheesy movies, play some video games, and basically not get out of bed?”

“Ooh you really know how to spoil a girl Guzmán,” You chuckle, “That sounds perfect.”

And somewhere, amongst the chaos of pregnancy and the uncertainty of your future, you were damn thankful for the consequences it had caused. You’d found someone. Someone who’d been so hidden to you in all of the years you’d known him. And in lazy evenings, in too much takeout food, in acting like an old pair - you’d found Guzmán. Whatever the future held for the two of you, it seemed certain that it would be together.

[blu-joons]

BTS Reaction: Spending Christmas Together

Jin:

🎄 The 1st of December, the decorations come out, covering the house in bright lights and statues     

🎄 As with every year, the two of you would have a new pair of Christmas pyjamas, this year you both wore a blue pair with penguins all over them 

🎄 He loves to make Christmas cookies together a few nights before Christmas, his favourite has to be his cinnamon biscuits        

🎄 Jin is always the first one up on Christmas morning, shaking you awake to open presents together   

🎄 If all else fails, kisses are his best way to wake you from your sweet slumber, “merry Christmas jagi.”    

🎄 Every year he spoils you with presents, every year he always buys you one of his aftershaves to keep hold of when he’s on tour        

🎄 The dinner is spent at his restaurant with his family, you’re all dressed beautifully with massive smiles on your faces          

🎄 His parents buy you the best presents, ear defenders, “you’ll thank us for them at some point in the year.”

🎄” Excuse me, I’m hilarious, Y/N loves my jokes, don’t you love?”   

🎄 He loves to round up all the jokes from the crackers, giggling to himself before he can even deliver the punchline   

🎄 The evening is spent just the two of you, cuddled up by the fire watching your favourite Christmas movies      

🎄 He makes the best hot chocolate, and with the spare biscuits left over to dunk, it’s the perfect winter warmer

🎄 With lots of kisses and cuddles, it’s the perfect ending to the perfect day  

🎄 ”It’s just been the most perfect time with you, I hope you’ve had as good a Christmas as I have, because mine’s been amazing.”

Yoongi:

🎄 You’d be woken with mistletoe, and a gummy smile, the most amazing view to begin a day of festive cheer      

🎄 He’s a bit of a Scrooge when it comes to Christmas, but being able to spend time with his family means a lot to him    

🎄” At least try and pretend to enjoy today,” you’d tease, peppering several kisses all over his face      

🎄 He’d try and pretend not to be bothered, but secretly he was a big kid, especially when it came to the presents you bought him    

🎄 The two of you wore matching oversized jumpers, just so everyone knew you were together      

🎄 His mum cooked the best dinner, it was the highlight of your day, going to his parent’s and being able to see them      

🎄 A hand of his would rest over your thigh under the table, admiring the beautiful bangle that you’d bought him    

🎄” I really like the bracelet, thank you so much for it jagi, it’s perfect.”    

🎄 When you headed home, the two of you would lay under a blanket together, looking out of the window at the young families  

🎄 I can’t wait for Christmas with our kids one day,” he’d whisper sweetly into your ear      

🎄 It took you by complete surprise, but as the two of you indulged in all the chocolate you’d been bought, the thought bought a smile to your face    

🎄 He hated to admit it, but he loved Christmas, and being able to spend quality time with you was what was most important to him      

🎄 He’d bid you goodnight with a soft kiss, cuddling you closely to him to try and warm you up      

🎄 ”I really enjoyed today, maybe there is a bit of festive cheer in this cold heart after all.”    

Hoseok:  

🎄 His squeals would wake you on Christmas morning, peering over the bed to see your stockings filled with little gifts that you’d filled in the middle of the night  

🎄” Santa’s been! Y/N wake up so I can open all my presents!”      

🎄 His family would run a worst jumper competition which the two of you would always get involved in, wearing one fit for two bodies so he could stay close to you    

🎄 Affection is huge on Christmas; they always say it’s a time to show your loved ones you love them, and he does that in bucket loads   

🎄 You’d be firmly placed in his lap as you went around his family opening presents, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around your waist      

🎄 He’d take you away in the middle afternoon to the park, getting away from the hustle so that he could dedicate some of his time to you      

🎄” You’re still the best present I’ve ever had, every year I’m just thankful to have you in my life.”      

🎄 Whenever music was on, he’d be dancing, pulling you up, twirling you around, swaying along with a wide smile on his face  

🎄 His favourite present of the year was a new piece of jewellery that he could wear on tour and during shows  

🎄 The night was spent back at your house, cuddled up by the fire, blankets were over you, soft music played in the background      

🎄 His lips peppered all over you, thankful to have you in his life, showering you with the affection that you rightly deserved    

🎄 You’d cook a second dinner together at night, decorating the table with candles and crackers, wearing paper hats under Hobi’s orders  

🎄 Lots of selfies would be taken to remember the day by, scrapbooking them like you did with all your memories      

🎄” I wish today would never end, but I’m really excited to do it all again next year    

Namjoon:  

🎄 The two of you decide to runaway for Christmas to a cabin in the middle of nowhere, no phones, no people, just the love the two of you share      

🎄 It’s perfect, you get up late, cuddling in bed, with no parents shaking you to get up so you can open presents    

🎄 In the afternoon you take a long walk through the snow, even finding time to have a snowball fight, which you definitely won     

🎄” This is the Christmas of dreams; I feel like I’m in a movie!”      

🎄 He’d even arranged for the two of you to go sledging as a surprise, knowing that it was something you’d always wanted to do    

🎄 It was freezing, the two of you were wrapped up tight, giving Namjoon the perfect excuse to constantly cuddle you    

🎄 He’d stay well away from the kitchen, leaving you to prepare dinner, you could barely trust him to make the two of you hot chocolate    

🎄 The evening would be spent competitively playing board games, with the radio on in the background to sing along to    

🎄 ”I’ve never heard this rendition of Jingle Bells; you know how to make a song unique Joon.”  

🎄 The two of you would be in fits of giggles all day long reminiscing about all the good times you’d shared together  

🎄 To end the day, the two of you would settle on a movie, but neither of you would pay attention, lost in each other instead    

🎄 His hands would be through your hair, your hands would rest over his abs, staring out of the window at the falling snow    

🎄 In the end, the two of you would fall asleep downstairs on the sofa, far too tired to carry yourselves up to bed

🎄” What do you say to never leaving this place? Christmas here really is the most wonderful time of the year.”

Jimin:

🎄 Breakfast in bed (perfectly round omelette, hot chocolate with mini marshmallows and a fruit salad)

🎄 Lots of morning cuddles and kisses

🎄 Opening presents after another hour of staying in bed

🎄 One particular gift from Jimin is a beautiful pendant necklace with both your initials engraved on it

🎄 Go out for shopping at the mall afterwards and meeting the santa and taking tons of pictures together

🎄 Going to an Italian restaurant for lunch while it snows outside

🎄 Later at home changing into a formal party wear for a Christmas dinner with your families

🎄 More kisses to keep yourselves warm

🎄 Meeting cousins and relatives and opening more presents

🎄 Massive Christmas dinner with tons of wine and laughter

🎄 Taking a stroll around the park afterwards while it snows and walking arm in arm to keep yourselves warm

🎄 “I love you Y/N, thank you for making this Christmas extra special for me.”

Taehyung:

🎄 Waking you up with lots of kisses and tickles and warm hugs

🎄 Cuddling and falling back to sleep in each other’s arms

🎄 Opening presents downstairs while drinking hot chocolate and being wrapped in a large blanket together

🎄 One particular gift from him is a charm bracelet with both of your initials engraved on it

🎄 Going to your families’ house and spending time with them

🎄 Having a huge Christmas brunch with your relatives and laughing and drinking tons of wine

🎄 Taking you out to a ‘surprise place’ and surprising you by taking you to a waterpark

🎄 Spending the whole afternoon in the jacuzzi and warm Greek baths, being wrapped in each other’s arms in the warm water while it snows outside

🎄 Going home in the evening and changing into a fancy dress to go out for dinner at a lavish French restaurant

🎄 Seeing Taehyung talk in French to the waiter (cause let’s admit it that SHIT IS HOT)

🎄 Eating lots of chocolate while walking back home arm in arm and laughing and pissing other people off around you

🎄 At home changing into comfy, warm clothes and curling up together on the couch to watch Christmas movies and drinking more hot chocolate

🎄” Merry Christmas Y/N. I love you so much, no matter how much hot chocolate foam you get around your mouth.”

Jungkook:

🎄 It’s a Christmas getaway in the mountains

🎄 Waking you up by pulling a childish prank on you and then laughing at your pissed face until he rolls on the floor with tears running down his face

🎄 Apologising and taking you downstairs where you open your presents and answer phone calls from relatives

🎄 Sitting on his lap on the couch with jazz music running in the background, while you’re wrapped up in one big duvet because the heating in the cabin you rented won’t work anymore

🎄 Watching the snow fall from the sky through the large wall window of the cabin

🎄 Lots and lots of cuddling and warm kisses

🎄 Changing into thick overlayers to go skiing for the morning before having breakfast at a nearby cosy café

🎄 Going for a walk around the mountain city you’re in and buying each other cute gifts

🎄 Taking pictures with the santa around the prettily decorated small village

🎄 Finding yourselves a quiet fast food restaurant to have a lunch and laughing and tossing fries at each other and almost getting kicked out when the whole packet of ketchup falls on the floor

🎄 Laughing and stumbling out of the restaurant and heading back to your cabin to get changed into more comfy wear and going for a drive through the mountains while it snows and Christmas songs play on your phone

🎄 Coming back home late at night and being told by him to go to the room and wait

🎄 For an hour at least and then being called back downstairs to see a beautiful dinner set up

🎄 Eating happily and watching Christmas classics, being wrapped up in two duvets because the heating still won’t work

🎄 “Merry Christmas Y/N. Maybe I should thank the owner of this cabin for purposefully keeping the heating off just so I can hold you even closer to me.”

---

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