#< it is never going to be finished and see the light of day i have. a billion animatic wips and not 1 done

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

lotus

a/n: this has been sitting half-written on my pc for i don't even know how many months (tbh at least half a year. i was living somewhere else when i started it wow). finally took a deep breath and finished it (though with an ending that kinda flies by a bit because just wanted it to get done. i was scared that the story would never see the light of day, so zooming through the ending was a better option)

summary: a nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

warnings: massage therapist!bucky barnes x reader, smut, sex worker!bucky, bucky doesn't have the metal arm in this one, thinking that your friend just signed you up for a normal massage but then it turns out to be an erotic one, kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, fingering, toys, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, anal, double penetration

word count: 4000

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With a hand tangled up in one of the ties of the robe you wore, you answered your front door after finally hearing the bells chime.

“Hi,” a soft smile swiftly warmed up the features of the man standing on the other side of the threshold, “are you miss Y/l/n?”

“Yeah, I am,” a tingle of nerves flickered through your body as your gaze washed over him, “you must be the masseuse.”

Why did he have to be so attractive? If it was this difficult to remember to breathe when he was standing completely out of your reach, then how were you going to survive a guy such as him touching you?

Following your gaze down to the folded-up table he carried, he nodded, “guilty,” before setting down the duffle bag he clutched in his other hand and extended it for you to grasp, “my name is Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you briefly shook it, “nice to meet you.”

“You too,” the touch faded, and he bent down to pick the supplies back up, “so, where should I set up?”

“Oh, in here, in the living room,” you gestured behind you and shifted to the side for him to enter. As he set up everything, you stayed at the perimeter and felt your heartbeat thump behind your ribcage, “is it weird that I’m a bit nervous?” you then quietly asked.

Briefly pausing his actions as he unfurled the massage table, he cast a glance your way.

“It’s not weird at all, it’s okay,” he stated in a calm tone, “but I assure you, this is a completely safe space, you’re in good hands.”

“I just–, this wasn’t exactly my idea, or even at all,” your hands fiddle further with the terrycloth tie around your waist as you began to ramble, “Nat, my friend, she told me that I needed to relax, so she booked this appointment for me as a treat. I don’t even know what it is she signed me up for, if it was just like a little five-minute long thing or what.”

“Oh no, she signed you up for the full package, 90 minutes.” 

“Really?” your eyebrows rose, “wow, that’s amazing.”

Once the table was set up and he rummaged through the bag for a towel as well as other supplies, his low timbre filled the room once more.

“So, before we start, I’d just like to ask if there’s anything off limits to you, anything you don’t like or that you’re not interested in? Or perhaps something in particular you’d like today?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” your eyes narrowed slightly as you thought, quickly scanning through your body to get a good sense, “you can just be as rough with me as you want.”

“Alright, you like it rough, good to know,” you felt yourself suck in a silent breath at the way the phrase fell from his lips, “you ready to begin?”

“Yep,” you swallowed, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered he seemed to make you. 

He then lifted up the ivory sheets he’d sprawled out on the plush bench and held it up high, giving you a smidge of privacy as you dropped your robe to a nearby armchair, before laying down on the table and feeling the cotton drape over you. 

As you layed there on your stomach with your face comfortably nestled in the little nook, you sensed Bucky adjust the fabric, folding it down so that your entire back was exposed. 

A dull click found your ears as he pumped some oil into his palm. The very first touch conjured a brisk breath to fill your lungs as his hands slid along your spine, spreading the slickness around. 

Though when you finally managed to force yourself to relax into his touch, a soft moan slipped from your lips as his meticulous grip found a muscle particularly sore.

“Sorry,” you timidly apologized for the sound. 

But he simply zeroed in on the very spot that had made you groan and said, “don’t apologize, whatever bubbles up, please let it out.”

Your lips stayed half parted as his touch dug deeper, “it just feels really good right there...”

“Yeah, you seem to be holding a lot of tension in your back, especially right here between your shoulder blades.”

“Probably all the time on the couch,” you let out a pitiful chuckle, “I just kept on getting into uncomfortable positions and then stayed like that. Which, funnily enough, is pretty symbolic of how I ended up there in the first place, stuffing my face with Ben and Jerry’s and binging the most depressing of romcoms.”

“Bad breakup?” he guessed. 

“I don’t think you can call it a break-up if you never really were together in the first place,” you let out a sigh. Yet again had you fallen for a guy who’d turned out to be a complete and utter asshole, “men are just pigs,” you spat out, “no offence.”

“Oh, none taken,” he uttered, “you know, it’s actually very common for people to get this particular treatment after something like that.”

“Really? Your touch is on the same level as bawling your eyes out to Joni Mitchell?” you jested, “well, now I’m really happy that I let my friend talk me into this.”

Soon, when his touch had kneaded every inch of your back, it faded away and reappeared lower on your frame as you then felt him fold the sheet up to expose your legs, letting the thin fabric only drape across and cover the curve of your bottom. 

Once his touch had soothingly wandered up the length of your legs and as his broad palms dented your slightly parted thighs, you nearly didn’t notice through the trance-like state you’d drifted off to when his reach crept close enough to your core to feel the heat radiating off it. A gasp parted your lips as his fingers briefly ghosted against the very outside of your puff before retreating back down your thigh. 

“Is it alright if remove this for a bit?” he then asked as you felt his hand clutch the sliver of modesty that remained. 

“Oh, uhm,” you fought to comprehend his question through the haze you’d slipped into, both the haze of relaxation, though maybe more predominately the haze of sin, which was most likely what had swayed you to utter, “sure,” trying your best to stay calm as he removed the sheet completely. 

It became a difficult task to keep your quiet noises at bay and have them not seep through your heavy breath as he then began to massage the soft peak of your butt. 

You tried to remind yourself that it was the biggest muscle on the human body and thereby completely normal to be treated in this manner, but that truth would have been easier to swallow if it had been a less attractive specimen touching you in such a way. 

Eventually, Bucky’s lavish rubs came to spread you apart with each repetitive motion, surely granting himself a perfect view of just how mortifyingly wet you’d become. 

As he let his broad thumbs dig into your sitting points, you told yourself it was the slipperiness of the oil that caused his fingers to sweep closer to your core and not your own nectar that had leaked down towards his touch. 

It felt so good that your hips unconsciously tilted up and into his touch, as his thumbs slid close enough to caress your outer lips, nearly capturing them in a gentle pinch. 

You didn’t know how long it took, how long you essentially grinded into him as if you were in heat, but eventually, you snapped out of your fog and realized just where his fingers were. 

“U-uh… w-what are you doing?” your frame jumped slightly at the realization.

“Do you not like this?” his touch paused, though didn’t retreat. 

“Why–, uhm…” you nearly panted, “you’re just very close to somewhere else.”

And when he simply uttered, “yeah, I know,” in an almost amused and cocky tone. You swiftly propped yourself up onto your arms and glared back at him, successfully prompting him to rip his hands away.

Snatching the sheet back over your frame as you scrambled to a seat, you stared back at him in utter shock, “I’m sorry, but are you actually trying to sleep with me right now?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked back at you, seemingly confused at your outburst, “I’m just doing my job.”

“I’ve had massages before, that was not–… that right there was something else. That was not you doing your job, that was your hands being persuaded by your dick.”

A nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh boy, I’m sorry, I thought you knew…” his glance fell to the floor as he then began to enlighten, “well, the lotus wellness center, where I work, specializes in the blend of not just physical and mental health, but also sexual health and satisfaction. An erotic massage, like the one you were signed up for, is one of the many services we offer.”

Your eyes had grown as wide as saucers during his explanation, “o-oh…”

“I totally understand if you wanna stop, if you’re not interested.”

“I–…” you tried to make heads or tails of the situation you found yourself in, “so you were gonna–, what? Fuck me?”

“I was gonna try and make you feel good, help you relax and unwind. You were signed up for the aurelia treatment which would involve me using my hands to pleasure you, as well as whatever toys you might be interested in.”

“Toys?”

“Yes, I have a generous collection with me,” he briefly gestured back to the duffle bag resting on the couch. 

“Okay, uhm…” one of your palms came down to brush over your features as you fought to comprehend it all.

“Do you want me to pack up and go?” you heard him ask. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, before you even realized it was moving, you shook your head. Letting your gaze flutter back up to find his, you exhaled lowly, “fuck…”

“I can also just give you a completely traditional massage if that’s what you want.”

“…and if I wanna try the other thing?” you nearly whispered. 

“Do you?”  

“I–…” you tried to speak, though couldn’t find the words and ended up just hazily nodding back at him. 

“Alright,” he gently mirrored the nod that still faintly rocked your head, “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, I promise. You just say the word, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed, shivering slightly at the tingle of goosebumps that spread across your flesh. 

The way he held your gaze a moment longer before shifting it to the massage table you still sat upon made you feel as if you might melt off it entirely.

“Lay back down,” he faintly nodded to the bench. 

Your eyes stayed glued on him long after you now layed sprawled out on your back. 

Letting his touch graze the sheet you still absentmindedly clutched to your chest, he asked, “do you wanna keep this on?”

“No,” you shook your head faintly, “you can remove it.”

“Okay,” he gently peeled the fabric off of you, “just say if you get cold, alright?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fantasy you found yourself in. 

He began by working at your arms, tenderly spreading some oil across them and massaging down the length of them, one at a time, till his skilful fingers descended to work at your palms. It nearly felt as if he was merely holding your hand before he tossed you into the deep end with how intimate the simple beginning sensed. 

You couldn’t command your gaze to leave his visage as you traced his every move as if he was made of stardust. 

When his warmth let go of your hand, he reached for the bottle of oil that didn’t have a pump and unscrewed the top. Your bottom lip got caught by your teeth as he then poured a bit out over your stomach, curving the s-waves of droplets all the way up and across your boobs, dripping over your pebbly nipples as they stared back at him. 

As Bucky began to rub it in, he first stared softly down at your belly before swooping up, only to skip over your tits entirely and instead yanking a disappointed whimper from your lungs as he then commenced massaging your shoulders. 

You felt a bit lightheaded as you blinked up at him, all tall and broad, looming above your head and digging his warm touch into the base of your neck. 

Though when his rough palms finally did swoop down to caress your soft peaks, he quietly checked in, “this okay?” to which you simply nodded your head, eyebrows knitting together at the intenseness of the built-up anticipation.

Your entire chest cage heaved beneath his touch as he finally massaged your boobs, even occasionally fleeting away to ghost across your nipples, only to capture them in a pinch the next moment. 

You felt as if you were floating down a calm stream, letting the river of sin take you somewhere new and wonderful. 

Eventually, his broad palms swept up and down your form, though each time his reach dared to near your core, he barely touched you at all, missing entirely the spots that throbbed for attention, which of course only caused the sensation to deepen and render you even more desperate from his teasing. 

When he then shifted to stand to the side of the patted table, his deep voice washed over you once more as his touch stayed warm against your skin.

“Everything okay so far?”

“Yeah…” you hummed as you lazily blinked up at him, and the soft smile that curved your lips caused a similar one to bloom upon his own. 

His slow stride then carried him further down till his fingers began to dent the softness of your thighs. 

After he’d made your eyes flutter at the way he worked at the muscles in your legs, focusing on one thigh at a time, slowing working his way up till his fingertips stretched to dizzily brush against your outermost petals, it was then, that his sweeps grew and blossomed till one fleeting tease to your centre morphed into more as he kept coming back, each fluttering time slowly transforming till the maddening pets had become everything you’d dreamed of.

Soft whimpers flowed out of your lungs as he gently folded each of your legs up by your sides and cracked you wide open for him.  

As he gazed down at you with such intensity you’d never experienced before, it only took one step for him to change his angle and stand tall next to your hips. 

Letting his palms run up your inner thighs, the edges of each of his broad thumbs then met and joined on either side of your pussy as he captured it in a light pinch, making you moan softly, “fuck….” as his touch rolled your clit through your glistening puff. 

You nearly didn’t catch it because of how hard your own pants were, but Bucky’s own breaths had picked up as well and with a few stray curses seeping through his teeth as he continued to pluck at the strings of your pleasure. 

But then, before you could truly lose yourself to the ecstasy you felt flicking in your periphery, his hands slipped away, a smirk fast on his lips as a whine escaped you and he returned his attention to the rest of your body. Though thankfully, his torture only carried on a short moment before he finally granted you the first of many treats.

“Oh, yeah,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rubbed your clit and carried you over the peak. 

“Right there?” he leaned down closer to you as he kept up his pace, his free hand coming to rest right beside your head as he loomed over you. 

“Yeah,” you breathlessly panted as your body trembled beneath his touch. 

“Yeah?” he huskily echoed, nearly sharing your breath as he drew out your orgasm for as long as he could, and even as your body began to squirm at the sensitivity that swiftly set in, his touch never left you, only lightened to make it bearable and tickle you back from the high. 

He studied your features fiercely as his fingers then came down to tease your entrance. 

“How about this?” your leaky hole swallowed up the two digits he swiftly filled it with, “how’s that? Is that what you want?”

“Oh fuck!” your back briefly arched and lifted you off the table, closer to him for but a moment as sloppy sounds of your want echoed at the slow rhythm he played you at. 

“Or do you need a little more maybe?” he sneaked another finger inside, “huh?” his frame then bent down till you could feel his hot breath fan across your face, “what do you want? You want something more to make you feel good right here?” his fingers slid back out of your pussy and fluttered up till they found your puffy pearl, “or here?” he briefly soared back down to plug up your cunt once more, but only offered you one messily rock before his digits slipped back out and drifted down much further than you expected, “or maybe even here?” you let out a gasp as the slick pads of his fingers glided over your little rosebud. 

“I–, I–,” you struggled to answer him, feeling so foggy that you might just fall off the table, “fuck…” 

“I have any toy you could dream of with me,” he purred as your grip found his shirt for support, “so, what do you want?”

“I want–, I want–”

“What?” he pushed as he continued to stare down into your eyes. 

And as blinked back at him, only one wish came to mind, one that you timidly whispered, “y-you…”

But as fear began to prickle at your nerves, they all dissipated as the masseuse wasn’t offended at all, your words somehow conjuring a dazzled smile to appear upon his lip before he then chuckled warmly, “roll over for me.”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from the hast you tried to fulfil his command.         

As he soon kneeled down to be on level with where your head was now twisted and resting on its side, his hand drifted up for you to spot the dildo clutched in his grasp. 

Handing it off to your flicking fingers, his touch briefly lingered on your cheek, stroking it softly as he said, “then pretend this is me, will you? Get it nice and sloppy for me.”

When you began to plant pecks across the silicon, your eyes shadowed him as far as they could as he straightened back up and walked back far enough to disappear from your sight, only for you to know where he’d gone to once you felt his mouth begin to devour you whole. 

It became difficult to concentrate on the task he’d given you, so much so that he had to remind you each time his lavish tongue buried between your legs caused your own to forget itself. 

Arching your ass further up towards his efforts, he tilted away from your drooling cunt and instead nipped up till he lapped against your other hole. 

“Oh, that feels really good,” you moaned around the dildo as you tried to catch a glimpse of him, though only saw the edge of one of his hands and they dented your bottom. 

“Yeah?” he let a dollop of spit drop to your rosebud before he nudged the pad of a thumb against it, “you like having this little hole played with?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, then watched as he momentarily dipped away to snatch up a butt plug from the zipped-open treasure trove his bag was. 

Once the toy was snugly buried within your little ass, he snatched the dildo out of your mouth and a string of your drool chased the silicone as he brought it back to tap against the sloppy petals of your pussy. 

It didn’t take very long after he’d begun to fuck you with the toy that you tumbled over the edge once more, making you that much more malleable when he yanked at your legs and manhandled you down to the bottom of the bench till your unsteady feet were once again on the floor and he had you bent over the table like a needy whore. 

That was also when your weak pleas began to bubble out, begging for him to fill you up with something other than a toy. 

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you swore you heard a tinge of astonishment in his tone when he asked you to clarify, making sure it really was him that had you begging and not just the way he made you feel. 

Though once you finally managed to convey the sincerity of your words and convince him of the way he and not just the acts he was performing, drove you wild, it was in the middle of chasing your next high that he broke his pattern and traded out the dildo with his own hard cock. 

A low moan seeped across your spine as he buried his length completely and let himself melt down against your back. Letting himself savour the sweetness of your warmth clenching around his fat girth, it took him a while before he finally began to move and soon found a steady pace that had your toes curling against the floorboards. 

His fingers gently dug into the soreness still remaining all down your back as his hips repeatedly collided with the plush of your ass in desperate thrusts. Though as his digits worked their way down the length of your spine, they eventually found the little plug that still remained in your ass. 

Teasingly twisting the toy, you thought that was everything he had planned, though all of those fantasies fluttered away when he suddenly yanked the small plug out and switched it with the bigger toy still firm in his grasp, your little hole only managing to wink up at him before he stuffed it full once more. 

You lost track of the amount of times he made you cum as the remainder of the intense dance became a bit of a blur. At one point he had you flipped around and lying on your back, gasping up at him as he folded you in half and nearly broke the massage table beneath you from how hard his deep strokes were. At the next, the dildo he drove you mad with was traded out with his own fat cock and he conjured a vibrating wand to hold against your puffy clit as he watched your pussy leak from the bliss. But at the end, once you were nothing more than a puddle on the table, his load painted against your tits as he let his frame drape down atop of yours, a hazy question left your lips.

“Is that usually how that goes?” you asked as you both panted, plastered against one another. 

Raising himself up only enough for his eye to catch your own, he uttered sincerely, “no…” and his gaze flickered down towards your lips, “no, it is not…” before he let himself give you the thing you hadn’t dared to request. The kiss was so sweet it nearly caused you to forget the sinful acts you’d just wrapped up.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[choochooboss]

Sketch dump! Vol. 5

September 2022 (Part 1/2)

The first piece on top summarised my cosplay rush for Tracon 2022! The second is an old idea for a charm.

"SURPRISE!!"

Back in 2022 I hosted an art raffle for reaching 777 followers on Twitter! The winner would get their submas themed idea realised (which was their friends throwing a surprise party for the twins!). I wanted to make a little comic and have the bosses walk in their office where depot agents, Elesa, Drayden, Skyla, Clay etc. would be waiting with decorations and treats and games.

Emmet is all smiles of course while Ingo gets so emotional he could only whisper a "super bravo".

Not really headcanons anymore but still funny ideas.

1. Emmet gets clumsy when off-rhythm! He starts walking in curves if there is nobody else around to match his rhythm with.

2. Emmet spaces out/forgets to say things aloud when someone speaks too long or when things go off-script! His thinking gets interrupted easily.

3. Ingo sometimes bumps into doors because he is too used to automatic doors!

4. When things go off-script Ingo speaks too much and rushes in straight lines"

Also my little inexpensive sketchbook & my trusty tools! Mechanical pencil and eraser pen are life when scribbling my skrimblos smaller than a postage stamp!

More Ingo~ I utilise a wide range of sources for references, including CSP's poseable 3D models, they can come really handy with perspectives and proportions!

The second piece is my very first attempt at cosplay in Tracon 2022: Blingo! I walked in with a sequin hat, leather jacket, leather pants and high heel patent leather boots.

The hardest part of cosplaying Ingo is remembering NOT to smile ahaha!

Some hairstyle tests

I drew these for a huge submas art collaboration over Twitter hosted by @/mimizukeii!! It was technically my first art collab before I started arranging them myself with Aggie/Magma.

While looking for train related songs I found this cute nursery rhyme to go with the marching:

"Over the mountains,

Over the plains,

Over the rivers,

Here come the trains.

Carrying passengers,

Carrying mail,

Bringing their precious loads In without fail"

I wanted to compare these silly twins, planning to do something more silly with them later. Also a sketch of @/fukurow's butler designs I never finished.. The capes compliment them so well, I love them!!

Prequel to this piece! Emmet is so confident in himself he thinks Pierce wants to learn from him but is invited for a duet on the stage instead!!

Emmet has really great voice actors in Pokemas! I especially love how his english VA gives him that bri'ish/posh/sophisticated vibe while also soft and melodic! I know for SURE this VA/Emmet can sing, I can show you later!

One of my favourite sketches!! I wanted to add a bunch of characters in the BG reacting to this sonic blast of emotion over a performance!

Heyyy it's the smile buddies comic!! I really hope Ingo gets to interact with Marnie in Pokemas one day!!

I feel Ingo's eyes in the mirror panel is a little off in the final comic, I meant to keep it softer like in the sketch!

It's Nimbasa trio!! Idea inspired by submas EX uniform colors. Might continue this later!

Some BG tests for this piece! Compositing is hard but absolutely worth the effort, it can make a huge difference in the appeal of your piece!!

Practise piece drawing over a photo I thought was cool! I want to get more experimental with lighting and perspective!

'How's it hanging bro?' Who hung him up there anyway??

Sketch for this arguing scene! Something REALLY BAD needs to happen for them to end up that tense! Even if I want to present them close to the canon material I still want to put them in really challenging situations to see how far I can push their emotions!

Thank you so much for coming all the way down here!! This set was pretty loaded, I hope you enjoyed scrolling through all this ahah!

Previous posts:

Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022

Sketch dump Vol. 4: July 2022 Part 2

[aelinad]

Staged Romance - Kim Namjoon One-Shot

Pairing: !Idol Namjoon x f. reader

Genre: explicit romance (smut) !! MINORS DNI !! 🔞

Word count: ~ 28k

Summary: Y/N and Namjoon enter into a mutual agreement to fake date, with Y/N aiming to catch Jimin's attention and Namjoon hoping to win back his ex. What starts as a carefully crafted plan to fool everyone around them slowly begins to unravel as real emotions creep in. With every stolen glance, shared laugh, and moment of vulnerability, they find themselves questioning the boundaries they've set. When pretending becomes indistinguishable from reality, Y/N and Namjoon must decide if this is still part of the plan or the start of something real.

!! Warnings !!: vaginal sex, protected sex, fingering, a bit slow burn, angst, fluff, female riding, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ll step out for a bit” I said as I stood up from the table where I had been hanging out with the whole BTS group. It was late at night, and after all the filming they had done for their newest Run BTS show, the staff had booked them a two-story house for the night. We had just finished dinner and were chatting at the table while playing some games. Earlier, I had been seated between Namjoon and Taehyung, with Jimin and J-Hope in front of us, and my sister and her boyfriend, Jungkook, to their right. Jin and Suga were tired and had gone to sleep straight after dinner. I decided to step out onto the balcony for a few minutes.

My sister was deeply in love with Jungkook, and he felt the same way about her. I wouldn’t say I was jealous, but my situation with my crush on one of the group members had never progressed any further. Every time we met on days like this, I felt a pang of disappointment. It’s not that I lack the courage to confess my feelings, I just sensed that he wasn’t interested. Jimin had always been polite and kind, and that was that. I tried to distract myself from my feelings as I stared at the view ahead. The night was a bit chilly, so I quickly lit up a cigarette. I had never been a fan of smoking, but life happens and sometimes it leads to bad habits. I put the cigarette between my lips and took out my lighter. After multiple attempts, I kept failing to get it lit.

“Damn, I can’t even light this” I muttered to myself. All this crush drama and the work I had to return to tomorrow made me feel burned out. Sometimes, I wished I could just book a flight and go on vacation to clear my mind.

Then, a small flame lit up in front of my face. I stepped back, surprised.

“I saw you out here and noticed you were struggling with that.” Namjoon said, pointing to the lighter I was clutching.

“Ha! So you could tell from that far that I’m new to this? I don’t even think it’s broken, I just haven’t used it properly. I’ve only done it a few times over the past few days.”

“Never thought I would see you smoke. You should drop it; it’s a bad habit.” Namjoon took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, lighting it and nodding in my direction, telling me to bring mine closer so he could light it.

“You do realize you’re smoking too, even though you said that, and lighting mine isn’t going to make me quit.” I replied as I approached, the cigarette back in between my lips while looking at him.

“I’ll forgive you tonight, you seem to have a lot on your mind judging on how you left earlier.” He said as he came closer, covering the cigarette with his free hand and lighting the cigarette for me, his gaze never breaking mine.

“Joon, I didn’t know you were so observant. But yeah, I do, life’s been rough lately.” I said as I blew my first puff in the air.

“Well, I just hope it isn’t the fault of a particular person,” he teased.

“Huh? Wait, what?” I panicked, feeling my cheeks flush. 

“You like Jimin, don’t you?” At that moment, I think I stopped breathing. He said it so bluntly, like it was a fact. The thought of anyone inside the house overhearing made me incredibly embarrassed. I knew for a fact that no one had heard it, they all were quite loud in there. Besides my sister, no one knew about my feelings.

“What gave that away? Haha! I mean, I have a crush on all of you, in case you didn’t know.” I said nervously, hoping that maybe by saying that, I could hint to him that it was true, but he didn’t have to know the specifics. 

“Yeah, right. You kept staring at him the whole time during dinner and while we played games.”

“Was it that obvious?” I facepalmed myself.

“Let’s say a little bit,” Namjoon said, puffing out some smoke.

There was a brief silence after that, the only sound being the smoke from our cigarettes. I decided to break the silence again.

“Well, now you know the truth, I guess, and as you might know, he doesn’t feel the same way, so these feelings will fade on their own.”

Namjoon turned his head to look at me. “How do you know he doesn’t like you back?”

“Well, he’s never initiated anything like that. I don’t think he’s ever come to talk to me first, it has always been me! Gosh, that sounds so pathetic, right?”

“No, I can see what you mean. Maybe he’s shy and just needs a little push.”

“Like what?” I had heard that so many times from my sister that I couldn’t bear Namjoon saying it again. So I snapped, sounding a bit more on edge than I intended.

“I don’t know, maybe by making him realize what he’s losing out on or something like that.”

“I understand what you mean, but I would like the person I like to know beforehand, not me having to squeeze it out of them.”

“Right, but nobody’s perfect, so you might have to give that small push.”

“Well, I don’t even know how to start…” I trailed off focusing on looking at the ground.

“Use me.”

“What?!?” My head snapped back and I nearly dropped the remainder of my cigarette on the floor. “Aren’t you in a relationship, or did I hear that wrong?”

“Nope, you heard it right. And to answer your other question, I broke up with her a few weeks ago. Actually, she sorta broke up with me. I was thinking about making her jealous to show her what she lost, kinda like your situation. We should help each other out, get what we want, and then go back to normal.”

“Wait, so she broke up with you? What the hell, for real? Her loss though… So does that mean you want to fake-date for a while to see how things turn out? I mean, I’m not against it, but there are a million things that could go wrong. I have to tell my sister about it, and probably Jungkook with his big mouth will spill the beans, and what about the media? How’s that going to work?”

“Well, first, don’t tell your sister the whole truth for now, just spin this whole situation with a white lie. As for the media, we won’t go out in public together—just to closed events that my ex might attend, along with other staff members at nights like this when it’s only us as a group.”

“Right… and how long are we faking this? We can’t just go out there and drop the bomb on the members and be like, ‘Hey guys, we’re dating.’ That will confuse everyone!”

“Don’t worry about that. They might think I’m the jerk who is using you after my ex, but we want Jimin’s attention, don’t we? So he can notice you properly, although now that I’ve said it, you being my fake girlfriend and him having feelings for you kinda hurts my ego.”

“Look who’s jealous now! Haha. But omg, this is crazy, Namjoon. How long have you been planning this?” I questioned him, raising an eyebrow.

“I just thought about it after seeing you here on the balcony.” he said, raising his shoulders, as if it was no big deal.

“Wow, I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“You just don’t. We can discuss everything in detail later. Are you in or not?”

My mind was racing. I had always been very calculative, I’d never been spontaneous, like those people who book a flight within a day and leave for a trip, returning a month later, especially not like this. But something about Namjoon’s plan made me feel safe. Yes, it would cause a little drama in the group, but I doubted it would lead to anything major, right? 

“Fuck it. Yes, I’m in… but we are definitely setting some rules later on.”

“Then shall we?” Namjoon extended his hand toward mine, motioning towards the room. I let him take it, and we both smiled at each other as we walked back hand in hand where the others were.

***

The room had changed since I quickly left for the balcony. Now, everyone was engaged in different activities. My sister and Jungkook were deep in conversation, laughing about something, while J-hope was dancing to some background music. Taehyung and Jimin were laughing loudly, watching him. Namjoon and I walked toward the table, still holding hands. J-hope noticed us first, abruptly stopping his dance and screamed loudly, shaking the whole house. You could hear Yoongi and Jin coming out of their rooms, frustrated about the commotion.

J-hope’s eyes widened, and everyone followed his gaze to our linked hands. My eyes instinctively searched Jimin's face. I couldn’t pinpoint his reaction; he clearly wasn’t laughing anymore, but his expression was unfazed, and I had no idea what he might be thinking.

“Y/N! Why are you holding hands with Namjoon?” my sister exclaimed, rising from her chair in shock. I had anticipated her reaction, but at that moment, my throat went dry. I didn’t know what excuse to give. It looked like Namjoon sensed my hesitation. He squeezed my hand once and stepped toward my sister, not letting go of my grip.

“Well, you caught us! We just started dating this week and didn’t want to keep it from you guys any longer, so we decided to announce it today. Y/N was telling me that you might kill her later if we dragged this out without telling everyone,” Namjoon said, while everyone stood in silence. From time to time, I averted my gaze from him to Jimin, who didn’t bother to look at me directly but was actively listening to his hyung.

“Well, congrats, guys! Is this why J-hope screamed?” Suga said, yawning. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Yeah, me too. But congrats!” Jin added as he headed back to his room.

“Whoa, that explains why you guys were seated next to each other today!” Taehyung said, covering his mouth as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

“I noticed you following her after she excused herself, but I didn’t think you were dating, hyung,” J-hope chimed in.

“Y/N, as long as you’re happy I am too but you have to tell me all the details later,” my sister said. “Yeah, congrats, guys! Now your sister and I won’t be the only couple here!”Jungkook exclaimed.

“Thanks, everyone,” I said, smiling at how supportive they were, even though this was all just a facade. I really hoped they wouldn’t be upset later when we had to tell them that we were ‘’breaking up’’.

“Didn’t you just break up with your ex, Namjoon?” Jimin finally spoke up. I hadn’t expected him to go after Namjoon like that.

“Yes, she dumped me weeks ago, but I always had my eyes on Y/N. She’s different, as you might have noticed,” Namjoon replied, turning to me with a smile.

“Congrats, then,” Jimin said, rising from his chair. “I’m going to sleep, I’m actually tired.” He glanced at Taehyung, probably signaling him to follow since they were sharing a room.

“Thanks, bro. We should probably all go to sleep anyway, it’s late.” Namjoon pulled me closer and kissed my cheek before leaving quickly, leaving everyone stunned.

The room fell silent, and I could feel my cheeks heating up. I probably looked like a teenage girl who just interacted with her crush. His gesture was making this feel less fake than it was. Damn him.

Everyone was looking at me, including Jimin, who slowly looked me up and down before leaving after Namjoon.

“Well, Y/N, I’m happy for you and Namjoon. You seem to like each other a lot! We can tease you two later. I’m off to sleep, too. Bye!” J-hope said, dragging Taehyung with him as they left.

It was just me, Jungkook, and my sister now.

“I’ll leave you girls to it. Goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight, love,” Jungkook quickly pecked my sister on the lips and left the living room.

“Look, let’s discuss this tomorrow; I want to sleep too!” I quickly fake yawned looking at my sister.

“No way, sissy! We’re staying up all night until you give me all the details!” she said and pulled my arm towards our room.

Great, this is going to be a long night.

*** The next morning, I woke up after only two hours of sleep. The late-night conversation I had with my sister about Namjoon made everything feel surreal. Sure, I’d lied a bit, letting her believe that this was real, but she’d understand later, I didn’t want her accidentally telling Jungkook and blowing our cover.

I grabbed my phone, got up, and started dressing to go for a walk to clear my head. I decided to just wear something casual , a white tank top and jeans. Mid-change, my sister woke up.

“Y/N, what’s with all the noise? I want to sleep,” she groaned.

“You’d have slept better if you hadn’t insisted on talking last night,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you going to Namjoon’s already?” she teased getting up to look at me.

I finished putting on my top and headed toward the door. “I’m getting coffee first. See you later.”

As I opened the door and took a step forward, I smacked right into a firm chest. After a second, my blurry vision cleared, and I looked up to see Namjoon, his fist raised as if about to knock.

“Ouch,” I muttered, rubbing my head.

“You alright?” he asked, concerned in his voice.

“Oh my god, Joon! She was just coming to you!” my sister shouted from her bed.

“Is that true?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

I quickly closed the door so my sister couldn’t hear or see us anymore. “No,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Sure,” he replied, his dimples showing in a playful grin. 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Can’t confirm or deny.”

“So, what are you doing here?” I asked, curious.

“Well, you mentioned we had some unfinished ‘rules’ to go over. I figured since everyone’s still asleep, I’d come get you and finalize everything.”

“What if I hadn’t answered the door? I barely slept last night.”

“I’d have walked in,” he said with a shrug.

“You wouldn’t dare…”

“Scared, Y/N?”

“Me? Never. But seriously, what if I was changing? And I share a room with my sister.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” he teased, earning a smack on the arm from me.

“Ouch! Relax, I’m joking. We need to make this look convincing, you know, we can’t act like just friends.”

“Fine. Just save it for when others are around, then.”

“Alright, let’s head to the park nearby. I doubt anyone would be there to recognize us this early.”

“Sure.”

***

We found ourselves sitting on a bench at the park. It was early, and no one else was around.

“So, I think we should come up with some rules, like they do in the movies,” I suggested.

“Don’t people end up falling for eachother in the movies when they say this?” he questioned me.

“Hello! You know what I mean, stop joking around.” I said, slapping his arm.

“Okay okay…I’m up for whatever you’re comfortable with, Y/N. You say your rules, and I’ll say mine.”

“Fine. So, this is kind of cliché, but no kissing unless absolutely necessary, like if people are starting to suspect something. I don’t want this to be too… cheesy.”

“I understand that,” he said, nodding. “But if you want to kiss me, Y/N, just say so.”

I rolled my eyes. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“Okay, I’m fine with other PDA stuff. But you have to let me know if you’re seeing anyone for real or if that ex returns. I don’t want to interfere with anything important. Same goes for me if, say, Jimin confesses or something. And this lasts for a maximum of two months. We’re not dragging this out. Deal?”

“Yeah, yeah, deal. It’s all in here, don't worry .” He tapped his head with his index finger following along with a grin. “Anything else you want to add?” I replied.

“Yeah, just one thing: promise not to fall in love with me.”

I gave him a deadpan look, but he burst into laughter. “You should’ve seen your face! I’ve always wanted to say that line.”

“Unbelievable. Are you serious? I thought you were better than this!” I laughed, shaking my head.

“Hey, I’ve always been this way,” he replied with a wink.

“Sure, sure…”

***

We decided to head back to the house after our chat. As we approached, Namjoon standing beside me suddenly took my hand and pulled me towards him. Now we were standing face to face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, leaning close. “Shh, he’s watching. Right there, on the balcony.”His head made a gesture leaning slightly forward towards the balcony’s direction but I didn't dare to turn my head and look.

And just like that, we walked toward the entrance, hand in hand.

“Here come the newlyweds!” Taehyung  shouted as soon as we stepped in.

“Y/N, does this make you the group’s ‘mom’? Since Namjoon’s the dad and leader?” J-hope joked laughing.

Namjoon released my hand and muttered to me, “Gotta grab something from my room.” He slipped away, and I turned to J-hope, who was eagerly awaiting an answer.

“Yes, I guess I’m the mom now!” I declared, making a playful grab for him. He bolted, and I chased him into the living room while everyone laughed and shouted at us to stop.

We finally stopped running when Jimin came down the stairs, and I bumped into him, making us both fall to the floor.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, didn’t see you there!” I said flustered.

Jimin stood up quickly and stretched a hand out to help me, but before I could grab it, Namjoon stepped in and helped me up instead.

“I leave for one second and you already have other guys all over you Y/N,” Namjoon teased looking at Jimin and me.

“Not my fault! Blame J-hope,” I said, playfully glaring at him.

“Me?? I didn’t do anything!” J-hope protested from across the room.

“You’ve done it now, J-hope! You made Namjoon unhappy. Run for your life!” Jungkook shouted, grinning.

Namjoon took off after J-hope, and I was left standing next to Jimin.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his eyebrows slightly shooting upwards.

“Yeah, don’t worry.”

***

The rest of the day passed with a few more playful teases from the guys. The shoot was over yesterday, and we were all getting ready to leave. As everyone packed their things, we gathered in the living room to say our goodbyes. J-hope and Taehyung were still struggling to pack up so everyone decided to just stay downstairs till they finished.  As for me I hadn’t gotten much sleep, and I felt myself starting to doze off on the couch.

Just before I drifted off, my phone buzzed with a message from Namjoon. I looked up to see him watching me with a small smile.

Namjoon: It was a close call earlier

Y/N: Close call for what?  I replied, confused. 

Namjoon: Jimin helping you and being all touchy

Y/N: Yeah, why did you interfere then?

Namjoon: You need to play hard to get.

I rolled my eyes at him, and he sent me a screenshot of our text conversation. Confused, I opened it to see if anything looked different but couldn’t figure it out.

Namjoon: I can see that confused look, I already changed your contact name to ‘Y/N <3’. Change mine, too.

“Fine,” I muttered.

After thinking about it, I matched him and set his name to ‘Namjoon <3’. I took a screenshot and sent it back to him.

His only reply was a single red heart.

***

After we left that day, Namjoon and I didn’t have much reason to meet up. We texted here and there, so my phone lit up with his name from time to time for my sister to see and his phone with my name for the boys. Although lately with the guys’ busy schedules, we didn’t actually hang out. Two weeks passed like this.

One day, my sister casually brought it up. “You know, even when he’s busy, Jungkook comes to see me. I haven’t seen you and Namjoon together at all. Are you guys even dating?”

I panicked. Was it that obvious? “Of course we are! He’s just been busy, but we talk every day. I was just about to visit him at the company,” I replied quickly, hoping she’d buy it. I didn’t even know Namjoon’s schedule for the day, so I could only hope he’d be there.

“Really? Jungkook mentioned they’re rehearsing a new choreography and might be there late tonight.”

Maybe I should go there just for today to clear any suspicions out .“Yep, I knew that! Well, see ya!” I said, grabbing my things and rushing out the house.

After a quick stop at the nearest convenience store to grab snacks for everyone, I tried calling Namjoon three times, but he didn’t pick up. Finally, I decided to just head to the company and hope for the best.

When I arrived at the building, I used the staff access card my sister had gotten from Jungkook. Despite Namjoon and I being a “couple,” no one else at the company knew, aside from the guys, so it would’ve been suspicious for me to have my own card.

I knew they’d be in one of the practice rooms, but there were a lot on the second floor, and other groups seemed to be practicing there at the same time. I tried my best not to look suspicious as I moved closer to each door, listening for any familiar music, hoping to recognize one of BTS’s new singles.

After several tries, I finally heard that familiar tune I was looking out for. I waited outside until the music stopped, indicating they were either taking a break or resetting. Once it was quiet, I slipped inside.

They were all there, gathered in front of a camera, analyzing their dance moves. Jimin noticed me first and gave a small smile.

The others must have caught on because Namjoon and the guys turned their heads toward me.

“Y/N!” J-hope shouted, “What are you doing here? Missed Joon already?”

I didn’t even bother responding. Namjoon quickly walked over and asked, “What are you doing here?” He positioned himself in front of me to shield me from the others’ view.

“Well, I tried calling three times to let you know I was coming, but you didn’t pick up. What else was I supposed to do?” I lowered my voice. “People are getting suspicious, you know. My sister even asked why we never hung out since announcing we were together.”

“I’ve been busy, as you can see…”

“I noticed, which is why I came here to act like the girlfriend who missed you and all that corny stuff.”

“Right… Okay, go on with the show.”

I looked over his shoulder to see if the other members were still watching, and they were, especially Jimin, who gave me a look that made me wonder if he was jealous or just amused. I set the snacks on the floor, wrapped my arm around Namjoon’s waist, and hugged him tightly.

“Bear with it for me a bit, Joon,” I whispered.

He didn’t reply, he just hugged and squeezed me back. After a couple of seconds, I let go, picked up the snacks, and walked over to the guys.

“Yes, J-hope, you’re right. But who said I don’t miss you all too? I also brought some snacks, I wasn't sure what everyone liked, so I just got a bit of everything.”

“WOAH! Y/N, you’re the best!” Taehyung shouted, rushing over to peek into the bags.

Jimin stepped up and took the bags from me, gently brushing my hand as he thanked me before taking them to a nearby table. The others gathered around while Namjoon stayed beside me. I felt his presence and turned to him. “We need to talk.”

“Can we do it after the shoot? We’ve got one more left.”

“Oh…” Feeling shy, I blurted out, “Can I stay and watch? Not in a creepy way, just until you’re done so we can talk privately.”

“Yes, I’d like that… I mean, yeah, sure. The others might think it’s cute, you waiting around like a proper girlfriend.”

“Hey, I am a good girlfriend, thank you very much! … Wait, do you think it’s cute when girls stay and watch you practice?”

“Not all girls, just my girlfriend,” he said with a wink.

“Oh please, you act like you’ve had so many.” I rolled my eyes.

“I won’t tell you how many, but… what I’m trying to say is, I want you to stay.”

“Okay…”I didn't know how to respond to that. But I had already decided that I wanted to stay.

“Joon, let’s finish this up so we can dig into the snacks!” Jin called from the table.

“Coming!” Namjoon replied, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before heading back. It always catches me off guard when he does that. Flustered, I found a chair near the corner where the camera couldn’t catch me.

Soon, the music started, and all seven of them moved in perfect sync. My eyes traveled first to Jimin, his moves were fluid and perfectly on beat. Then I glanced at Namjoon, whose dancing had a different but equally captivating vibe. I couldn’t help but fangirl a little, watching them perform up close reminded me of just how professional they were. I didn’t even realize I’d been staring at Namjoon the entire time.

When the music stopped, everyone cheered, “Good job, everyone!”

I swear I heard Suga mutter, “Finally, I can go to sleep now.”

I laughed to myself, watching their reactions, and before I knew it, Jimin was standing in front of me.

“Hey, I think you bought too many snacks. Want to come over to the table and share with us?”

“Sure,” I replied, realizing I was actually hungry. “I left in a hurry to get here and might’ve skipped lunch.”

As I sat down at the table with everyone, Jimin took the seat right next to me. But Namjoon was nowhere to be seen—he’d disappeared entirely. Curious, I quickly slipped my phone under the table and messaged him to ask where he was. I must’ve looked worried, because Jin caught on and leaned over with a gentle smile.

“Hey, Y/N, is everything alright? Want some ramen? I’m prepping some now.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, Jin! Everything’s fine, don’t worry!” I replied, brushing off my concern. Namjoon was probably in the restroom or something. I started to dig in as Jin placed a warm bowl of ramen in front of me.

“So, Y/N, how far have you and Namjoon gone?” Taehyung teased, grinning mischievously.

I nearly choked on my noodles, coughing as Jimin shot Taehyung a sharp look and patted my back gently.

“Tae, that’s really none of your business,” Jimin retorted, his voice carrying a protective edge.

Taehyung just shrugged and grinned wider. “Come on, Jimin, we’re all friends here, right, Y/N? Where did Joon-hyung go either way? If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t leave you for one second alone!”

“Good thing you’re not her boyfriend then—you’d drive her insane,” Jimin muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, like you’re any better, Mr. Single,” Taehyung shot back.

“Not for long,” Jimin whispered, almost too low to hear. I turned to him with a curious look, only to see Taehyung caught off-guard, equally stunned.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, standing up. “Gonna drag Namjoon back here so he doesn’t miss all the food.’”

I headed to the hallway, scanning the area for him. When he wasn’t on the second floor, I went downstairs, guessing he might be in the smoking area by the parking lot. I tried calling him, but he didn’t pick up. After twenty minutes of looking, I finally found him, but he wasn’t alone. A woman stood close, and from the look of things, they were deep in conversation. I approached quietly, not wanting to intrude, but as I got closer, I couldn’t help but overhear.

“How have you been?” she asked softly. “You know I have missed you.”’ she said while rocking in place and tracing her fingers along his bicep.

“Fine,” Namjoon replied, his voice tight, while staring at her hand. “What else do you want me to say? You know why we ended things. What do you want now, why are you here?”

Without a second thought, I stepped up beside Namjoon, slipping my arm through his yanking him away from her touch. “There you are, babe!” I said, smiling sweetly. “The guys have been waiting for you to join us.”

Namjoon looked over, startled, just as the woman frowned. “Excuse me, but who are you?”

I gave her a calm but pointed smile. “Who am I? The real question is who are you?”

“She’s…my ex,” Namjoon muttered, seeming caught between confusion and discomfort.

“Ah,” I said, squeezing his arm a bit. “In case you missed it, I’m his current girlfriend. And I plan on being the last, right, babe?”

Namjoon’s eyes went wide for a moment before he quickly nodded. “Uh…yeah.”

His ex scoffed. “Right. Is this some joke to make me jealous, Namjoon? You know these things don’t work with me. I know us so let’s go somewhere to talk alone shall we?”

Great, I thought. Typical ex drama. But I kept my cool. “No need, we will be leaving together instead…” I said with a tight smile.

I tugged on Namjoon’s arm to lead him away. “Come on babe, everyone’s waiting,” I said and Namjoon quickly added, “see you around!”

“Or not,” I added, giving her one last look before we left. As we walked arm-in-arm back to the elevator, I leaned closer to Namjoon, whispering, “What’s going on with you? You tell me to act like your girlfriend, and then you turn into a deer in headlights in front of her. She probably figured it out that we’re faking this.”

Namjoon seemed distracted, barely listening. “I know, sorry…it was just…unexpected.”

“Okay, so…are you on track to getting back with her?” I asked carefully, watching Namjoon’s face. “I mean, you should if that’s what you want. That’s why we started this whole fake-dating thing, anyway.” I sighed, suddenly feeling the messiness of the situation. “Besides, I don’t even know if Jimin is interested in me or not. He said something really confusing earlier…”

Namjoon and I stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed with a soft chime. He looked at me, pausing thoughtfully before he replied. “It’s complicated, Y/N, but I’m not going to break our two-month agreement now that the guys know. I gave you my word, remember?”

I nodded, somewhat reassured. “I thought so. Not to be rude, but…your ex seems like a…” I paused, choosing my words. “Not so very nice, let’s just say that.”

Before Namjoon could respond, the elevator shuddered and came to an abrupt halt between floors, the lights flickering for a split second before dimming to an emergency glow.

“Oh, come on, seriously?” I groaned, glancing up. “This is a high-end building, how does the elevator just get stuck?”

Namjoon placed a calming hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry; just press the emergency button. They’ll fix it within a few minutes. No need to panic.”

“Right, yeah.” I rang the emergency bell and leaned back against the wall. “But still, I bet my ramen’s cold or eaten by now…” I muttered. I glanced at him, and he still seemed distant, like his thoughts were a million miles away. “Namjoon, are you even listening to me? You’ve been in a daze since we ran into her, is there something I should know?” I said, folding my arms.

“Y/N, can you stop?” he snapped suddenly, his voice sharper than I’d ever heard it.

I jumped slightly, startled by his tone. I was just trying to help. He looked regretful almost instantly but moved toward me, trapping me against the wall of the small elevator, his expression serious.

“I told you, it’s complicated. And it’s not just about her anymore, so can we drop it for now, please?”

“Why are you getting so worked up over all this?” I protested, meeting his gaze. “I was only trying to help. You know, you asked me to be your ‘girlfriend’, but you barely act like my boyfriend. Then when I do step in, you get all flustered.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead and leaning closer, so close that I could feel his breath. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s just…she cheated on me. She didn’t break up with me, I ended it because I found out. I really cared about her, but after that, I just felt…worthless. Like I don’t deserve to be loved.”

His confession hung heavy in the air. I felt a wave of empathy for him, my face softening at his confession. “Namjoon…you are one of the kindest people I know. You’re a great guy, and if anyone I know deserves love, it’s you. Don’t doubt that for a second.”

He looked at me, his gaze softening and our eyes meeting. For a brief moment, he seemed to forget everything. His ex, the fake relationship, everything but the two of us in this tiny, dim elevator. He glanced down, and I felt the brush of his nose near mine, our faces inches apart.

“You say that, but you still like Jimin,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, almost vulnerable. “And that…feels unfair, doesn’t it?”

My heart skipped a beat. “I…” I started, but the words wouldn’t come. A warm flush rose to my cheeks as I met his gaze, and in that instant, his eyes flicked to my lips, lingering there for just a second before he looked away, resting his head on my shoulder. It felt as though all the tension and worry had finally let go, but as if on cue, the elevator doors slid open with a soft ping, revealing two maintenance staff…and Jimin and J-hope.

J-hope burst into laughter at the sight. “Well, well, Namjoon. Didn’t know you were so…romantic,” he teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Are you two alright?” one of the staff members asked, extending a hand to help us out of the elevator. Namjoon stepped out first, then turned, offering me his hand, which I took, feeling more flustered than I’d expected.

Jimin stayed silent, watching us with an unreadable expression, Namjoon’s hand not letting mine go the whole time.

"I've always been like this. You just didn't need to know," he replied to J-hope.

"Oh, I mean as long as Y/N knows," J-hope chimed in with a smirk.

Namjoon and I didn’t respond, but he quickly leaned over and whispered that he had something to handle with the staff. He asked me to wait with the others until he returned.

Jimin spoke up first. "How long were you guys in there? We just heard the bell from the hallway."

"Yeah, Jimin was getting worried since you were taking so long," J-hope added. "So we came to check for you when we heard the alarm."

I was surprised, my mouth slightly open. I hadn’t expected Jimin to be so concerned. It was unusual... and kind of nice?

"Oh, thank you for looking out for me," I replied, glancing at Namjoon, who was handing some cash to the maintenance guys. He quickly came back over, giving us a knowing look.

"I’ll explain along the way," he murmured as he leaned closer to my ear.

Taking my hand, he led us back toward the practice room, with Jimin and J-hope trailing behind. Once we were a bit farther from them, Namjoon spoke quietly. "I had to give the staff some money to keep them from spreading rumors about us. We only wanted the guys to know, and well... my ex. Speaking of which, what did you want to discuss again? Sorry for earlier, I rushed to get a hoodie from my car downstairs and ran into her. That’s why I was late. You know the rest."

"Oh, that explains it. Don’t worry about why I came here to talk —I just needed to convince my sister that we’re still together since we haven’t been going on any dates lately. I called you earlier while I was looking for you but you didn’t pick up.” I paused, then asked, “Do you even have my number because you act like you don't." I said with a sigh.

"C’mon, babe, you know I’ve got it," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and glancing back at Jimin. "I’ll make sure to call you every day from now on and promise to answer every text and call."

"Alright, you better! Also the other reason I came here was that…. I was thinking we should go out one of these days, just for an hour or so, and take a few couple photos. We don’t have any of those, and it’d be nice to have them on our phones. No need to do anything too extravagant, you know typical couples things."

"Sure, but we could also take one right now," he said, pulling out his phone. He lifted the phone, leaned his head close to mine, closed his eyes, and flashed his dimples before snapping the photo, his arm still wrapped around me, catching me completely off guard.

"There, you look cute," Namjoon said, smiling. "I just sent it to you."

"You know we can still see you guys, right? We’re just behind you!" J-hope called out, laughing.

"Now you know, J-hope. I’m shameless when it comes to love."

I felt my face heat up and turned away, bowing a little to the guys as a silent apology.

When we finally made it back to the practice room, the others were still eating. Besides my snack, they’d ordered fried chicken. They must have been starving.

*** After everyone finished up, I greeted the guys one last time, giving each of them a hug before deciding to make my way back home.This time, I opted for the stairs instead of the elevator, my heart racing as I recalled the moment I shared with Namjoon. I couldn’t help but blush, replaying that exchange in the lift. If no one had interrupted us, would it have led to a kiss? I facepalmed, trying to shake off the thought.

I shouldn’t be thinking like this. Namjoon probably still had feelings for his ex, despite the way she had treated him. And then there was Jimin, my feelings for him were still tangled up in my mind. I sighed as I made my way down the stairs, anxiety swirling within me.

I suddenly heard hurried footsteps coming down the stairs, and panic surged through me. What if a crazy sasaeng saw me today and felt jealous? I quickened my pace, and as I rushed down, my vision became blurry. I lost my balance and found myself almost flying through the air, heading straight for the ground. Just as I felt gravity take hold, two strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me backward with such force that I bumped into something or rather someone. I managed to escape the tangled position and looked up to find Namjoon groaning.We both ended up on the floor, with his back against the wall crushed with his legs spread apart and me sitting between them. “Oh my god, Joon, what are you doing here? Didn’t you leave with the guys?”

“That’s the first thing you ask me? Not ‘Are you okay? Does anything hurt?’ or the fact that I just saved your life?” he hissed a bit in pain.

‘’Oh, that too! I am so sorry…. I quickly looked around gathering my words. “Let me explain!” Taking a deep breath I started explaining. ”I became paranoid and thought some crazy fan was following me. Why else would they take the stairs? No one knows that the elevator got stuck except us and the other guys. I mean, I thought I was about to be assaulted! I–uh … sorry, I should have turned my head and looked back. Don't mind me , I am… such a mess. How am I supposed to handle dating an idol like this? Maybe I shouldn’t even bother with dating at all, this girlfriend thing doesn’t seem to suit me.” I kept mumbling, and Namjoon kept looking at me with the same gaze I had seen back in the elevator. I think a tear escaped my eye, and he reached out, swiping it away with his thumb. Then, his hand locked onto the back of my head, pulling my head into his firm chest. “I’m sorry you went through that. Don’t worry, the company is safe most of the time,” Namjoon said quietly.

I let out a breath I had been holding and inhaled, catching a whiff of his scent. It was comforting.

“Y/N, I don’t think you understand how much any of the guys would love to date you now that they’ve seen how cute you act around me. I mean, you are my girlfriend, after all. The reason I came after you is simple: I wanted to drive you home. I’m pretty sure you walked all the way here carrying those snacks by yourself, not letting anyone help you. I thought I could take my car and drive you safely so we could discuss the date we’re going on along the way. But after I told the guys goodbye, you had disappeared, and I knew you wouldn’t dare take the elevator. I know you. After everything that happened, I rushed down the stairs after you. Maybe I should have called out your name to make it clearer that it was me. I’m sorry.”

I looked up at him, creating a bit of space between us. "You have nothing to apologize for. And yes, I’d actually love for you to drive me back; it sounds nice. Thanks for saving me… again haha."

I asked him once more if he was okay and if we needed to go to the hospital, worried that the bump might have had an impact. But he brushed it off, saying this was nothing compared to the rough training days he’d endured as a trainee. With some hesitation, I let it slide, for now. 

We both laughed as we stood up and made our way to the parking lot where Namjoon had parked his car. Trying to lighten the mood after the incident, I joked, "It would be funny if your ex was waiting by your car, you know."

He glanced back at me, smirking. "I doubt it. I think you scared her off."

I scoffed. "I mean, she was all over you, and that pissed me off. Especially now that I know what she did to you… she deserved more of a scolding. I can’t believe people like her exist."

Namjoon raised a brow, grinning. "Careful, Y/N, you're starting to sound a little jealous."

"Huh? I’m just saying she shouldn’t be touching you like that. I’d feel the same way if anyone did that to one of my friends! This isn’t jealousy," I replied, looking away.

Namjoon chuckled as he pulled out his car keys and unlocked the car. We got in, and he began adjusting his seatbelt and checking his mirrors. I couldn’t help but find it a little endearing, so I quickly snapped a photo of him without him noticing. I just wanted a memory of all this when it was over.

Once he started the engine and began driving, we discussed when he was free to meet up again.

"I'm free tomorrow evening since we got most of the filming done today. How does that sound for you? Are you free?"

"Let me check my calendar," I replied, pulling out my phone to double-check. "Pretty sure I’m free too." After confirming I had no meetings or other plans, I smiled at him. "Yep, tomorrow evening works!"

"Perfect. I’ll need just three hours of your time."

"Only three hours? Wow, Namjoon, you really know how to disappoint a girl!" I laughed, teasing him. "Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘Give me the whole evening, baby!’"

Namjoon shook his head, chuckling. "Well, I was trying not to be too greedy, especially since you were the one who originally suggested just an hour. But hey, if you're offering…" He grinned, glancing over at me. "Actually, I don’t know if your sister mentioned it yet, but Jungkook has been bugging me for weeks about a double date. I finally told him I’d consider it, only if you said yes, of course. It could help clear any doubts your sister has about us… but it's totally up to you."

"Wow, you really thought this through, didn’t you?" I replied, impressed. "Sure, I don’t mind going on a double date with you guys if it helps. So… where are we meeting again tomorrow?"

"I’ll text you the location later. It’s a surprise," he replied, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Look at you, trying to make a girl feel special, huh?" I teased.

"If it’s you, I don’t mind going all out," Namjoon said softly, turning his head to meet my gaze. I just stared at him, eyes wide.

A beep from the GPS broke the moment, snapping me back to reality. I hadn’t realized how quickly time had flown and Namjoon had already parked near my place.

"Guess we’re here," I murmured, feeling a strange sense of disappointment.

"Yeah… already," he whispered, almost to himself.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, preparing to leave, when I suddenly felt his hand resting gently on my thigh.

"Stay still," he said in a low, quiet voice.

I froze, my mind going blank as I looked up at him, heart pounding. But before I could process it, he was already out of the car, walking over to my side. He opened my door, extending his hand to help me out, the softest hint of a smile on his face.

What a tease. I thought to myself, holding back a grin. "Keep this up, Namjoon, and you’re going to make every girl fall in love with you," I said, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed softly, his hand still holding mine. "Maybe I only need one girl to."

***

When I got back home, my sister was exactly where I’d left her, sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She glanced up, grinning. “So, how was Namjoon? And the guys?”

“Good. I’ll fill you in later; I’m exhausted. Going to bed,” I replied, stifling a yawn.

“This early? It’s only 8:30pm!” she called, giving me a suspicious look.

I smirked. “Well, I have a date tomorrow, so I need my beauty sleep. Night!” I rushed to my room, giggling as my sister yelled after me, begging for details.

As I shut the door, I couldn’t help but smile. This whole fake relationship wasn’t so bad after all, I was actually having fun. And Namjoon was surprisingly perfect at being my “boyfriend”. After changing into my pajamas, I replayed the events of the day in my mind, from our moment in the elevator to the way he’d looked at me during the drive home. With a contented sigh, I slowly drifted off to sleep, the memory of his warm smile lingering like a gentle whisper in the back of my mind. *** Instead of giving me the location for our meet-up, Namjoon just texted to be ready by six, saying he’d pick me up himself. I guess he really didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Right on time, I waited by the entrance, and soon enough, a car pulled up. The window rolled down, revealing Namjoon in the driver’s seat, wearing a low-brim hat. Even with tinted windows, he was clearly taking extra precautions. Despite that, he still got out of the car and opened the door for me.

"Hi," he greeted as we both settled in, setting up the GPS to navigate. As he drove us through unfamiliar streets, I couldn’t help my curiosity.

"So… can you finally tell me where we’re going?" I asked, leaning over with a grin. "I’ve been dying to know."

“You don’t need to hype it up too much," he chuckled, glancing over with a shy smile. "It’s just a place I thought we could go to let loose for a bit, and afterward, I’ll take you back to my place to eat. My mom’s cooked a few dishes for me, but if you’d rather do takeout, we can do that, too."

“That sounds perfect! And we can take the photos there, too no need to worry about people spotting us. A lot of couples do such stuff at home anyway.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Do… what at home, Y/N?"

I flushed, immediately backtracking. "Ya! That came out so wrong! I mean… couples do photoshoots at home, that’s all I meant! Nothing else."

“Right, photoshoots…” he teased, his dimples showing as he fought a laugh.

The drive was about thirty minutes from my place, but with all our teasing back and forth, we seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. When we pulled up to a sleek building, Namjoon got out and took my hand, guiding me inside. At the counter, he had the tickets already pulled up on his phone, so the staff barely looked at us, though he was still keeping his cap low just in case.

Looking around, I started piecing things together. We were in an escape room building, and it clicked. I'd once mentioned wanting to try one with all the members someday. Namjoon must’ve remembered. While I was still taking in the space, he released my hand, turning to me with a smirk.

“So, figured it out yet?” he asked.

“Yes!" I laughed, buzzing with excitement. "This is amazing, I love it! We better get out on time, though. You’re known for being smart, so I expect you to really bring it tonight!”

He chuckled. “Alright, but heads-up: there are paid actors involved, and it’s a scary maze. Just watch out for that.”

“Ay ay, captain.”

***

We made it out with ten minutes to spare, and I was still cracking up over Namjoon’s reactions to the jump scares. For someone who’d warned me, he was definitely the one who got startled the most. The theme was intensse, a hospital infested with zombies, where we had to find the antidote and escape. Despite all the screaming, Namjoon seemed to have had as much fun as I did. As we left the maze, I was still playfully nudging his shoulder, trying to stifle my laughter.

Just then, a staff member approached us, causing both of us to freeze momentarily. I worried he might recognize Namjoon, but the employee just smiled.

"Congrats! You both finished on time! We actually have a new feature where players who beat the game can take a souvenir photo, something to remember your victory by. Would you both be interested?"

I glanced at Namjoon, checking to see if he was okay with it. To my surprise, he nodded.

“Joon, are you sure?” I whispered. “What if someone recognizes you?”

He shrugged with a reassuring smile. "I doubt it. Plus, the whole point of this date was to make memories.. And take photos."

“Alright!” I smiled back, feeling a little thrill as we posed for the camera.

Namjoon slipped his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him slightly, flashing a peace sign as the staff member took the photo with a Polaroid camera. Moments later, he handed us the printout, a perfect little snapshot of our night. *** After we finished taking photos, we made our way to Namjoon’s house, stopping to grab some drinks along the way. His mom had cooked some delicious side dishes, and we also ordered fried chicken, along with the inevitable soju, of course.

Once we arrived, we decided to put on some background music and set up the food in the living room, sitting on the floor across from each other. As Namjoon dug into his fried chicken, I couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction to the crispy skin.

“Here, let me get a picture of that!” I said, quickly snapping a photo of him mid-bite, his eyes wide in delight.

He chuckled, his mouth full. “You’re just going to keep embarrassing me, aren’t you?”

“Only a little! But I can’t help it. You look adorable!” I replied, scooting closer to him. “Now let’s take some of those selfies!”

As we snapped pictures together, I felt a warm flutter in my stomach. Namjoon grabbed my phone and started taking candid shots of me, making silly faces that had me laughing uncontrollably. His playful antics were contagious, and soon we were caught up in a whirlwind of laughter, striking goofy poses and trying to outdo each other with the most ridiculous expressions.

“Wait, do that again!” I said between giggles, holding up my hands as if I were trying to frame a perfect shot. “I want to capture your best ‘surprised zombie’ face!”

He obliged, widening his eyes and dropping his mouth open comically. “How about this?” he asked, pretending to stumble toward me like a zombie.

“Perfect!” I said, snapping the photo just in time. We took so many in different poses, wanting to ensure we had plenty of options for later. “I can’t wait to look at these in detail later and see which ones make the cut.”

After a few more rounds of photos, I suggested, “Okay, one last serious one! Let’s try a cute couple pose!”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow playfully. “You mean a ‘we're definitely not just friends’ pose?”

“Exactly!” I laughed, leaning into him as we settled into a pose. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I couldn’t help but feel giddy at the closeness. As the camera clicked, I savored the moment, knowing I’d want to remember this day forever.

“Okay, now that we’ve documented this historic moment, how about a game?” I suggested, feeling a bit tipsy already. “Let’s play Two Truths and a Lie!”

“Alright, I’m in! You go first,” he urged, grinning.

“Okay, um… I once met a celebrity, not any of you by the way, I can cook a five-course meal, and I have a pet turtle named Frank.” I announced, trying to sound serious.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to figure it out. “I’m going to guess… the pet turtle is the lie?”

“Nope! Frank is very real!” I replied with a laugh. “It’s your turn now!”

“Okay, here goes,” he said, thinking for a moment. “I like to go to museums, I’m not scared of zombies, and I also have a crush on someone.”

I squinted at him, considering his words. “I think the lie is… you’re not scared of zombies!”

Namjoon laughed.”You guessed right, I made it easy for you huh.’’ 

“But wait,” I said, narrowing my eyes playfully. “What do you mean you have a crush on someone? Who is she? Now, I’m curious, should we put on a show for her too, or is this still about that awful ex?”

Namjoon’s gaze became intense as he looked at me. “Nah, you know her very well. No need for anything,” he replied, his tone teasing but serious.

I felt a flutter in my chest, my mind racing as I wondered if he was talking about me. But I shook it off, not wanting to jump to conclusions. “Oh, really? I know her well?! I don't think we have too many girlfriends in common, Joon. Give me a clue.”

Namjoon just stared at me, his expression unreadable. “For someone who's very intelligent, Y/N, you sometimes surprise me.” After a brief pause, he continued, “The day she notices and looks my way, I’ll tell you then.”

I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. All this new information from the game had him saying such things. Maybe he was just tipsy. I didn’t want to push further, so I suggested something else to do. “Let’s just watch a movie for the rest of the hour!”

Namjoon chuckled and nodded. “Alright, what do you want to watch?”

“How about She’s the Man? It’s a classic!” I suggested, eager to skip the topic.

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, though I could feel his eyes still lingering on me as I settled in next to him on the couch. 

I tried to shake off the feeling of his intense gaze and focused on the movie while we cleaned up the snacks around us, laughing and joking about our favorite scenes. 

As the movie played, Namjoon grabbed his phone and recorded a quick video of me as I reenacted some of the funniest moments. He even jumped up to join in on the fun, pretending to act out a scene while I filmed him, both of us cracking up at how ridiculous we looked. But as the night wore on, we eventually grew tired and fell into a comfortable silence, the movie’s dialogue blending into the background.

I began to drift off, the combination of the delicious food, drinks, and the warmth of his presence lulling me into sleep. I could feel my eyelids growing heavy, and just before I fully surrendered to the peacefulness, I caught a glimpse of Namjoon’s soft smile as he watched me, his attention shifting from the screen to me.

Later on, when I finally woke up, I realized it was already the next day. Blinking a few times to gather my thoughts, I felt a warmth radiating from the body next to me. It took a moment for my sleep-fogged brain to register that I was tangled in a cuddling position with Namjoon. His arms were wrapped around me protectively, and a sense of comfort washed over me as I took in the cozy scene.

The soft light filtering through the curtains illuminated his peaceful face, and I couldn’t help but smile at how serene he looked in his sleep. His hair fell across his forehead, and his chest rose and fell gently with each breath. I shifted slightly, trying not to disturb him, but the movement only caused him to tighten his grip around me, pulling me closer.

Feeling a mix of warmth and butterflies in my stomach, I wondered how we had ended up like this. The memories of last night flooded back our laughter, the silly games, and the intense moment we shared when he mentioned having a crush. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the wave of emotions that rose within me.

Glancing at the clock displayed on the TV, I realized it was still early. I didn't want to break the peaceful moment, so I settled back against him, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Just then, I heard him stir beside me. His eyes fluttered open, and when he met my gaze, a sleepy smile spread across his face. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep. 

“Good morning,” I replied softly, my heart racing a little at how cute he looked. “Did we really fall asleep on the couch?” 

“Looks like it,” he chuckled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I guess we had more fun than I thought.” 

“Yeah, it was a great night,” I said, feeling a flutter in my chest. “I can’t believe I fell asleep like this. It was only supposed to be 3 hours!.” 

Namjoon shifted slightly, brushing his fingers against my arm. “I’m not complaining. I could get used to this.” 

I felt heat rush to my cheeks at his words. “Me too,” I admitted in a whisper, unable to hide the smile on my face. 

***

Days passed, and Namjoon and I had been talking every day, exchanging random thoughts and snippets of our lives. It felt so natural, as if we had known each other forever instead of just a couple of weeks. The day after I left his appartament, I decided to send him the photos we took during our date. As I scrolled through them, I noticed that in most of the pictures, he was looking my way, and I couldn't help but blush.

I realized we only had two weeks left in our agreement. I couldn’t believe how quickly time had flown. Just when I was getting comfortable with this new dynamic, we had plans to meet again for Hobi’s party, celebrating the release of his new single” Chicken Noodle Soup.” The entire company was invited including me and my sister, and I felt a mix of excitement and nerves.

The night of the party arrived, and the energy in the venue was electric. I stepped inside and was immediately greeted by the sound of laughter and music. Namjoon was there, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted black shirt and jeans, but I knew we had to keep our distance given the crowd and all the staff milling around. Despite that, it was hard not to steal glances at him. I felt my heart race every time our eyes met, a small smile always tugging at my lips.

As the night went on, I found myself chatting with some of the other BTS members when a random guy approached me. He had an easy smile and an inviting energy that made him hard to resist. 

“Hey there! Would you like to dance?” he asked, extending his hand. 

I hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Namjoon. He was probably talking to J-hope about his thoughts on the song, but I could feel his gaze on me. Still, the music was calling, and I didn’t want to miss out. “Um, sure,” I said, taking the guy’s hand and following him to the dance floor.

The moment we started dancing, I could feel Namjoon’s eyes on us, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. The guy was friendly enough, spinning me around and laughing as we moved to the beat. I tried to enjoy myself, but every time I caught a glimpse of Namjoon watching from a distance, my heart raced. 

As I swayed to the music, I felt a rush of warmth at the thought of Namjoon. “You know, you’re a great dancer!” the guy said, flashing me a charming smile.

“Thanks! You’re not too bad yourself!” I replied, trying to keep the conversation light. But my mind kept wandering back to Namjoon, who looked tense, his jaw slightly clenched. 

Just as I was beginning to get comfortable with the rhythm, I noticed Namjoon striding over. “Hey, mind if I cut in?” he said, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.

“Uh, we are in the middle of the dance…but sure.” the guy replied, stepping back, clearly scared by Namjoon's interruption.

Joon wasted no time taking my hand and pulling me into his arms. The moment he wrapped his hands around my waist, I felt a spark. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, leaning down so only I could hear. “I couldn’t let him have all the fun.”

“Namjoon, we’re in public…that's why I agreed to dance with that guy.I don't want the guest to spread rumors about any of this.” I said, glancing around at the crowd and in between us. 

He shrugged, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Let them see. Besides, if you want Jimin to get jealous, you need to look at me more.”

“Wait, what?” I said, caught off guard.

“Just trust me,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Look at me while we dance.”

I nodded, biting my lip to suppress a smile. As we danced, I found it hard to concentrate on anything else but him. The way he held me felt different, intense and possessive. I could see Jimin nearby, talking to a couple of guests. He caught my eye for a brief moment and then turned to look at Namjoon, his expression unreadable.

Once the song ended, I stepped away from Namjoon, my heart racing. “Thanks for the dance,” I said, my cheeks slightly flushed. 

“Anytime,” he replied, flashing that charming smile of his. Just then, Jimin approached, a casual grin on his face. “Hey, Y/N! Want to dance?” he asked, his tone friendly.

“Sure!” I said, feeling a little guilty about leaving Namjoon.

As I moved towards Jimin, I glanced back at Namjoon. He stood there, watching us with a mix of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place. I tried to shake off the feeling of tension as I began to dance with Jimin, who had a different energy than Namjoon. He was playful and energetic, making me laugh as we moved to the music.

“Having fun?” Jimin asked, spinning me around. “I saw you dancing with Namjoon earlier. You two looked good together,” he commented casually.

“Yeah, thanks! Just enjoying the night!” I replied, laughing. This was a first, maybe me and Namjoon dancing together perhaps made him a tiny bit jealous.

“So, just curious, for how long have you liked Joon-hyung?”

“Hah, what's with all these questions Jimin, since when does that matter. ” I insisted, though I felt a bit flustered under his gaze. What does he want to get out of this conversation? ‘’I mean you guys have been together for barely 2 months right, so your feelings aren't that strong yet I am assuming? “I don’t think liking someone works like that,” I shot back, a little defensive. “Oh really? How does it work then?” Jimin pressed, clearly intrigued.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to articulate how I felt. “Well, I guess it’s more about the connection you build over time. It’s not just about the length of time you’ve known someone, but how you feel when you’re around them.” “And how do you feel around me Y/N?”Jimin asked, his voice low, catching me off guard. I paused, the question hanging in the air between us. My heart raced as I considered my response. “Um, I…” I faltered, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion about my feelings for Jimin. It was hard to articulate just how much my emotions had begun to shift. 

Jimin seemed to sense my hesitation, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. “You know, you really light up the dance floor. If you ever need a partner, I’m your guy.”

I smiled, feeling flattered yet torn. “Thanks, Jimin! You’re a great dancer too.” But I couldn't shake the sense of uneasiness stirring in my chest. How did I really feel about both of them? Just then, I glanced over at the sight of Namjoon leaning against the wall, his whiskey in hand, watching us intently. To my rescue, J-hope made his way through the crowd, grinning widely. “Hey, you two! Come on, we’re taking a group photo!” he called out, gesturing for me and Jimin to join the others.

Namjoon and I exchanged glances as we moved closer together, although I could still feel the lingering warmth of his presence beside me as we joined the group. The camera flashed, capturing the moment, and I felt a spark of happiness knowing I was part of this special night, even amidst the confusion of my feelings.

After the photo op, I looked around the venue, trying to soak in the atmosphere. The music was pumping, laughter filled the air, and I felt a surge of joy being surrounded by friends.

“Want to grab some snacks?” I suggested turning to Namjoon.

“Sure! Let’s go before they run out,” he said, flashing me a smile.

As we made our way to the food table, we chatted and joked about the party. “I can’t believe how much fun this is. Hobi really knows how to throw a bash,” I said, eyeing the delicious spread laid out.

“Definitely. And the food is amazing,” he agreed, grabbing a plate.

Just then, I spotted my sister across the room, chatting animatedly with Jungkook. I waved at her, and she returned the gesture with a huge grin. “Look, there’s my sister! She’s having a blast!” I pointed out to Namjoon.

“Your sister seems to be enjoying herself,” he said, glancing over. “And Jungkook looks like he’s making her laugh. They get along really well, huh?”

I nodded, watching them for a moment. “Yeah, they’ve always had a special connection. It’s nice to see her having fun.”

Namjoon chuckled, setting his plate down to grab a couple of snacks. “I can’t blame Jungkook. Your sister is awesome. But let’s focus on our snacks before they disappear!” I couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort being there with him, the worries of the outside world momentarily fading away. As we finished eating, Namjoon turned to me, a curious glint in his eyes. “Hey, what were you and Jimin talking about while you were dancing?” he asked, leaning in slightly as if he wanted to hear my answer more closely.

I felt a slight flutter of unease at the question, the earlier conversation with Jimin flashing through my mind. I tried to keep my tone casual. “Oh, nothing important, really. Just typical dance floor talk,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand.

“Are you sure? It looked like you two were having a pretty deep conversation,” Namjoon replied, raising an eyebrow. There was an intensity in his gaze that made me feel like he was trying to read between the lines. I swallowed hard, feeling a pang of guilt for not being entirely truthful. How could I tell him about what happened, when I didn't have an answer yet. “Dont worry about it.”’ ***

Since the party, Namjoon and I have been texting here and there, casual conversations that left me wondering if he’d been busy or just distant. But beneath each message, I could sense a tension, something unspoken simmering between us. That dance with Jimin at the party had left me wondering if I still had feelings for him, or were they fading? And why did talking to Namjoon feel so natural, like we’d been doing this for years?

Either way, this was supposed to be the last week of our fake relationship. We’d both agreed on that. I wanted to bring it up, to ask him what he thought about it all, but every time I tried, the words just wouldn’t come.

Friday arrived, and my sister reminded me of the "couple's date" she’d set up, me with Namjoon and her with Jungkook. I groaned, grabbing my phone to check with Namjoon. Part of me hoped he’d back out, but when I texted, he just replied, "I’ll be there."

That evening, we all met up at a lively bowling center. The place was buzzing with laughter, the crash of pins, and cheers from other lanes. This was a favorite spot for Jungkook and my sister; they always loved a bit of competition, so naturally, they thought it’d be the perfect place for all of us to meet up. I spotted them near a lane, already laughing and waving us over.

Namjoon was sitting close by, fiddling with the scoring screen and taking a sip of a drink he’d already ordered. He looked up as we approached, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. His calm confidence eased some of my jitters.

“Hey,” he said, reaching for my hand as I sat down beside him. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a tiny spark running up my arm.

“Hey,” I replied, glancing up at him, trying to gauge his mood. Did he sense that I was nervous?

We barely had a moment to settle in before my sister leaned in with a playful smirk. “So, Namjoon,” she teased, “are you keeping my sister out of trouble?”

Namjoon chuckled, squeezing my hand gently under the table. “Actually, she’s the one keeping me out of trouble.”

My sister laughed, and Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “You two seem like you’ve got this whole couple thing down.”

A lump formed in my throat. Did we? I cast a quick glance at Namjoon, who seemed unfazed, as always. His calm expression gave nothing away, and it almost made me want to ask, was he as unsure about everything as I was?

When the server came to check on our orders, I realized I hadn’t even glanced at the menu. I’d been too wrapped up in how to bring up the impending end of our “relationship.” Just then, Namjoon leaned over, his voice gentle.

“I ordered you a light beer, since you looked a little distracted,” he said, eyebrows slightly raised in question.

I blinked, snapping back to reality. “Oh! Yeah, that’s perfect. Thanks.”

As the night went on, it was easy to fall into the rhythm of the group, though I couldn’t shake the sense that something was missing. Jungkook and my sister were on a roll, winning nearly every round with their practiced ease, while Namjoon and I fumbled our way through a few frames, laughing despite our weak scores.

Jungkook grinned, picking up his ball with a flourish. “Looks like Namjoon’s been busy writing again, huh? You’ve got that faraway look, hyung.”

Namjoon smiled, shrugging slightly. “It’s been a busy month. A lot of new music, ideas I’m trying to figure out.” He shot me a quick look. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely been putting in the work,” I added, although I wasn’t entirely sure. He’d been so occupied, and sometimes I felt like just another task on his to-do list. 

“Y/N?” My sister’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Oh, sorry!” I said, snapping back to the game. I could feel Namjoon’s eyes on me, but I avoided his gaze, feeling caught.

“We need to focus here,” he whispered, his tone soft but playful. “No more zoning out, partner.”

I laughed, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped. Maybe it was just the thrill of the night, or maybe it was the weight of something unspoken hanging between us. For a fleeting moment, I thought Namjoon was looking at me with the same question in his eyes, the same confusion and quiet hope I felt, but before I could be sure, he looked away.

After a few more rounds of bowling, we decided to explore the arcade on the upper level of the center. The lights from the machines cast a warm, colorful glow, and the air was filled with cheerful noises, beeping games, laughter, and the click of tokens sliding into slots. Namjoon and I stayed close, trying out a few games and exchanging easy laughs, while my sister and Jungkook were busy competing at air hockey.

“Look at this!” my sister called suddenly, bouncing up and down as she spotted an old-school photo booth tucked in the corner. She grabbed Jungkook’s hand and waved us over with a huge grin. “We have to get in there and take some pictures. It’ll be like a memory of tonight!”

The four of us managed to squeeze into the tiny booth, laughing as we scrambled to fit into the narrow frame. My sister gave enthusiastic instructions, calling out poses as the camera clicked.

“Alright, first shot: everyone smile!”

The camera flashed, capturing the four of us grinning, cheeks squished together.

“Now, do a funny face!” she said, pulling a ridiculous expression that made us all crack up just in time for the next shot.

“For the last one… let’s make it a couples’ kiss!” she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. She turned to Jungkook, already leaning in for their shot. I felt my heart pound in my chest as I turned to Namjoon, feeling my face flush as I took in his expression.

Namjoon’s eyes met mine, and for a second, I saw the same hesitation, the same unspoken question that had been following us all night. We’d never kissed, not even for show, and now we were in this tiny photo booth with a camera about to flash, only inches separating us. I could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he leaned forward ever so slightly, his face close enough that I closed my eyes, waiting for the moment to come…

But it didn’t.

I opened my eyes just as he pulled back, offering me a polite, almost forced smile. My stomach dropped, and a wave of embarrassment washed over me, making my cheeks burn. Trying to brush it off, I quickly turned to the camera after the last flash, the awkwardness settling heavily between us like a wall.

When the photo strip began to print, I couldn’t ignore the nagging questions twisting inside me. I stepped out of the booth with the others, walking a bit farther so they wouldn’t overhear, and Namjoon followed, sensing I wanted to talk. I glanced at him, feeling vulnerable but needing to know. “Namjoon… why did you stop?”

For a second, his usual composure slipped, and I caught a glimmer of something almost sad in his eyes. Then he shrugged, looking away. “There’s no point, Y/N. We’ve only got a couple of days left of this… arrangement, right?” He gave me a small, almost bitter smile. “Besides, Jimin’s probably already feeling jealous enough. I saw you two at the party, you were laughing with him, looking happy. I figured… there’s no need to make this more complicated.”

His words felt like a punch to the chest. I realized then just how much I’d been hoping for that kiss to mean something, for it to be a turning point between us. But the way he dismissed it so casually left my heart aching in ways I hadn’t prepared for. I swallowed hard, forcing down the tears threatening to rise.

“You don’t even know what we talked about,” I said, my voice barely steady. Jimin had asked me at the party how long I’d liked Namjoon, and maybe I had smiled without realizing it. I hadn’t told Namjoon about it that night because I hadn’t known how I felt then. But now… now, I was sure. I wanted him more than anyone, yet he’d just walked away from the chance to kiss me, even after I’d closed my eyes and leaned in. If he couldn’t even kiss me now, he clearly didn’t feel the same way.

Namjoon’s face was hard to read as he replied, his voice quieter. “You’re right, I don’t know. But I asked you then, and you didn’t tell me. I get it, Y/N… this is fake, and I’m not your boyfriend. You don’t owe me anything, so I didn’t push it. But don’t act like you wouldn’t rather have Jimin here right now instead of me.”

I felt my anger and frustration rise to the surface, all the confusion of the past few weeks pushing me over the edge. “How do you know what I want?” I snapped. “You think you know me so well after just two months of us ‘being together’? You’re right, Namjoon, I don’t have to tell you anything. And since this ‘deal’ between us”, I gestured between us, my voice sharp, “ends in two days, maybe we should just end it now. Right here. I might as well go to Jimin after this.”

He stared back at me, hurt flashing across his face before he composed himself. “Fine. I thought that was the point of this whole thing anyway. Good luck.” he said flatly, his eyes holding mine with a hardened look. Neither of us spoke, tension building in the silence, the distance between us now feeling like miles.

Just then, my sister and Jungkook walked over, holding the strip of photos. My sister was laughing at first, but when she looked closely, her expression changed as she noticed the last photo.

“Wait… you two didn’t kiss?” She looked between us, her face full of confusion. “Come on, you guys!”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension. “What’s going on?”

Something inside me snapped. All the frustration, disappointment, and anger bubbled to the surface. I turned to my sister, unable to hold back. “Because it’s all fake,” I said, my voice louder than I intended, the words coming out like a final admission. “None of this is real.”

The room fell silent. My sister’s smile faded, her face filled with surprise and hurt. Namjoon’s face went blank, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the shock radiating off him.

“Y/N, wait��” Namjoon reached for my arm, but I jerked away, feeling the sting of tears as they blurred my vision. Without another word, I turned and left the arcade, letting the lights and sounds blur around me as I hurried down the stairs, desperate to put distance between us. ***

When I got home, I shut my bedroom door and sank onto my bed, letting out a long breath. I tried to hold it together, but the weight of the night finally broke through, and a few tears slipped out before I could stop them. I felt so mixed up, like I’d been thrown into a storm without a compass. Namjoon’s words kept replaying in my mind—how he’d brushed off the kiss, how he seemed to assume I’d rather be with Jimin. It stung more than I wanted to admit.

After a while, I wiped my face, deciding I was done feeling sorry for myself. This was supposed to be a temporary, harmless plan, so there was no point in getting tangled up in something that wasn’t meant to be. I distracted myself for a bit, scrolling through my phone, but my thoughts kept circling back to him.

Then, I heard the front door open. Moments later, there was a soft knock, and my sister stepped into the room. She took one look at me, her expression a mix of concern and understanding, and came over to sit beside me on the bed.

“Hey,” she started gently. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

I hesitated, but she didn’t push, just sat there patiently until I was ready to say something.

Finally, she sighed and continued, “Look… Namjoon stayed a bit after you left. He… Well, he explained everything to us.”

I felt my heart skip a beat. “What did he say?”

She gave me a careful look. “He told us the whole thing, that you two only started dating to make Jimin jealous, and… to get back at his ex.”

I cringed, suddenly feeling a flood of embarrassment. “He told you that?”

She nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. I think he was just trying to be honest. He looked really upset when he was explaining, though. Like… I don’t know, like he didn’t really want to be saying it out loud.”

I blinked, my mind racing. Part of me felt a strange sense of relief that she knew, but it didn’t erase the guilt or the way my heart still ached at the memory of his words in the photo booth.

My sister hesitated, then asked gently, “Y/N… who do you really like? Is it Jimin, or… Namjoon?”

I swallowed, feeling a weight settle in my chest. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I thought I still liked Jimin, but… being with Namjoon felt so natural, so easy. And tonight, it felt like maybe… maybe I’d been lying to myself about my feelings.”

She reached over and squeezed my hand. “That’s okay, you know. You’re allowed to feel confused. But it’s important that you’re honest with yourself. Just think it through, and don’t do anything just because you’re afraid of what it might mean.”

I nodded, feeling the tension ease a little. She stayed with me, her silent support enough to make the chaos in my heart feel a little less heavy. Maybe I didn’t have the answers yet, but I knew that tonight had shifted something inside me. And maybe that was the first step to figuring it all out.

***

By Saturday evening, I’d almost convinced myself that tonight would be normal, just a simple get-together with friends, no awkwardness or confusing feelings. Taehyung was hosting a small party at his place, just a casual night for all of us to catch up. I hesitated at first, but after all that had happened, I figured it would be good to see the others. Besides, Namjoon had already mentioned in the group chat that he couldn’t make it because something had come up, so it wasn’t like I’d have to worry about seeing him. 

So that evening, my sister and I got ready and headed over together. The minute we walked in, the familiar sounds of laughter and the low hum of music filled the air, instantly easing some of the tension I’d been holding. I spotted Taehyung across the room, chatting with Yoongi and Jin, who were already nursing drinks. J-hope was over by the music setup, picking out the next track, and Jungkook waved at us as we walked in.

“Hey, you two! Glad you could make it,” Taehyung greeted us with a grin, pulling us both into a quick hug. He handed us each a drink, smiling mischievously. “Don’t worry, we’re just getting started.”

I laughed, feeling a bit lighter. We settled in, and soon I was chatting with everyone, catching up, swapping stories, and just enjoying the easygoing atmosphere. I’d forgotten how nice it was to just be around friends without the weight of the past week lingering over everything.

At one point, I glanced across the room and noticed Jimin looking at me. He didn’t say anything, just watched me with a quiet intensity that sent a little jolt through me. I quickly looked away, pretending not to notice, but I could feel his gaze lingering, even when I wasn’t looking his way.

A little while later, Taehyung clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Alright, everyone! Time for a little game to keep things interesting.” He grabbed an empty bottle and placed it on the table. “Let’s do a classic: Never Have I Ever. But first, drinks all around!”

Everyone cheered, and we each grabbed a drink. Before starting the game, Taehyung took out his phone and snapped a quick photo of everyone holding up their drinks, laughing and cheering. “Alright, group photo for the memories,” he said, quickly sending it to the group chat.

I checked my phone and saw the notification pop up in the chat. I couldn’t help but smile at the picture, everyone looking so carefree and happy. Just then, I noticed that Namjoon had seen the message. A small pang hit me, but I shook it off and put my phone away, trying to focus on the game.

Taehyung spun the bottle, and as it pointed at each person, they took turns saying things they’d never done, and the others either drank or laughed as they tried to remember their own stories. The energy was light, with people teasing each other over the stories they shared, and even Yoongi was getting into it, smiling more than usual.

At one point, Jimin leaned over and grinned at me as I took a sip for something silly someone had said. “You’re a bit of a mystery, aren’t you?” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.

I rolled my eyes, trying to brush it off. “Or maybe I just have a lot of secrets,” I shot back with a smirk, making him laugh.

The night went on, and I couldn’t deny that there was a certain freedom in being here without Namjoon, like I could just be myself without all the confusing feelings getting in the way. But every now and then, I’d catch Jimin’s eyes on me, the way he seemed to be watching me a little too closely, like he was waiting for something.

About 30 minutes into the game, just as the conversation was getting more lively and the drinks were flowing, the front door swung open. I didn’t even notice at first, lost in conversation with Jungkook about some random funny video he had seen. But then, I heard a familiar voice from across the room.

“Did I miss anything?”

I turned, and there, standing in the doorway, was Namjoon. He was casually dressed, a slight smile on his face, but his presence hit me like a wave. My heart skipped, and suddenly, the air felt a little heavier. He was here, and I hadn’t expected it at all.

He must’ve noticed the change in atmosphere because everyone’s attention shifted to him. Taehyung grinned, raising his drink. “Look who decided to show up! The party’s just getting started, hyung.”

Namjoon gave a half-shrug, his gaze scanning the room before landing on me for a brief second. He didn’t stay on me long, though, quickly moving toward the group and grabbing a drink from the counter. I tried to keep my composure, but the tension in my chest was impossible to ignore. He’d shown up, and everything I thought I’d managed to put behind me came rushing back.

Jimin, on the other hand, didn’t look away from me. His gaze was sharper now, and I could feel the weight of it, like he was waiting for me to react. I looked down at my drink, trying to focus on anything but the way Jimin’s stare was beginning to make me uncomfortable.

Namjoon joined the circle, exchanging pleasantries with the guys. He settled in, his usual calm demeanor in place, but there was something more guarded about him tonight. I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the tension too, or if I was just imagining it.

After a few moments, Taehyung clapped his hands again, getting everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s keep the fun going. Who’s up for a round of shots before we start the new round?”

Namjoon smiled, but I could tell it was a little forced. “Sure,” he said, reaching for the bottle that was passed around. I noticed that when he got to me, his hand paused for just a second, like he was trying to decide something, but then he took the shot with a steady hand.

Jimin, who had been quiet for the last few minutes, finally spoke up, his voice light but pointed. “You sure you’re up for this, Namjoon? You looked like you were busy earlier.”

Namjoon glanced at him, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something came up. But I’m here now. So, no more excuses.”

I could feel Jimin’s eyes on me again, sharp and almost searching, but I kept my gaze ahead, not wanting to react. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much, but there was something about the way he was looking at me, almost like he knew something I didn’t.

The game continued, but now there was a new layer of tension. I could feel Namjoon’s presence weighing down on me, even as he chatted with the others. I tried not to look at him, but I couldn’t help it. Every time I glanced in his direction, he was either talking to someone else or looking at his phone, but there was a part of me that kept waiting for something to happen. What was I waiting for? I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were far from resolved. 

And as much as I told myself I should enjoy the night with everyone else, a part of me still wanted to know what Namjoon was thinking, why he’d suddenly shown up, and what it meant for the weird, fake relationship we were trying to make sense of.

The mood in the room was light, with alcohol flowing and teasing picking up. Taehyung, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a devilish grin, clearly enjoying the attention as everyone turned toward him.

"Alright, alright, let’s make this interesting," he said, his eyes scanning the group. "Never have I ever liked a girl in this group." He looked directly at Jungkook, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to drink. "Come on, Jungkook, no skipping this one. You know the rules."

Jungkook immediately rolled his eyes. "Gladly," he muttered, grabbing his drink without hesitation. He downed a shot, then looked at my sister, sending her a flying kiss before turning back to Taehyung. His face tried to stay serious, but he couldn’t hold back the grin tugging at his lips. "Happy now?" he said, clearly playing it off for laughs, but the whole room could tell it was more for fun than anything deeper.

Namjoon was next. He took a sip from his glass, his gaze never leaving mine. I couldn’t help but notice the intensity in his eyes as he drank. I tried to remind myself that he was just continuing the act, that this was still a fake relationship, that we were pretending for everyone else since we hadn’t told them yet the truth about ending it. It was all a game. But something about the way he held my gaze made it harder to believe it was all pretending.

Then, just as I was processing it all, Jimin, of all people, raised his glass. His move was so sudden that it left the whole group stunned into silence. Without a word, he took a shot, his eyes locked on me the entire time, a quiet challenge lingering in his expression.

The room went silent. The tension was palpable. No one knew how to react. Taehyung blinked first, breaking the silence with a loud, surprised laugh.

"Well, I guess we’re all in now," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Looks like we’ve got some secrets floating around in this group."

But I didn’t find it funny. My heart pounded in my chest, the situation suddenly feeling a lot more real than it had a few minutes ago. Jimin’s move was unexpected—why had he done that? And Namjoon... his constant attention, the way he drank right after Jungkook , it felt too intentional. Had I been reading too much into everything? I couldn’t focus on anything else, the weight of the moment hanging heavily between the three of us.

The game continued, but all I could do was watch, trying to ignore the strange mix of emotions that churned inside me. Something had shifted, and I couldn’t figure out what it was. 

I excused myself from the game, the weight of everything pressing on me like a physical force. I needed space to breathe, to clear my head, and figure out what was going on in my own heart. My thoughts were spiraling, tangled in Jimin’s unexpected actions and Namjoon’s steady gaze. What did any of this mean? I couldn’t make sense of it, and it was eating away at me.

I made my way toward the guest room, my steps slow and heavy, as if I could outrun the thoughts crashing through my mind. Was Jimin really into me this whole time? Did the plan to make him jealous actually work? What was going on between Namjoon and me? And why did everything feel so... real tonight?

I stepped into the bathroom of a guest room and stood in front of the mirror. The reflection staring back at me didn’t seem like mine anymore, too confused, too lost. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to get away, to clear my mind.

Before I could walk back into the party, I heard the door to the guest room open in front of me. I froze. It was Jimin. I didn’t expect him to follow me, and my heart jumped into my throat.

He stepped in slowly, looking like he was carefully choosing his words. I turned toward him, but I didn’t know what to say. The silence hung heavy between us. 

"Y/N," Jimin said, his voice calm, but there was an edge of vulnerability there. "Can we talk?"

I didn’t trust my voice, so I simply nodded, still unsure of what was happening. His presence filled the small room, and my nerves were on fire. 

He sighed and took a step closer, clearly thinking about what to say next. "I didn’t expect Namjoon to show up tonight," Jimin began, his voice low and almost distant. "The guys had told me they saw him talking to his ex before he left the studio. I figured he wasn’t going to come, so when he showed up... I was surprised."

I tried to keep my face neutral, but the mention of his ex hit me harder than I expected. The thought of Namjoon with someone else, especially with that ex, was like a punch to the gut. But I stayed quiet, letting Jimin continue.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration creeping into his tone. "But then Jungkook told me something yesterday. About you and Namjoon... about the whole 'fake relationship' thing." He paused, his eyes locking onto mine. "He told me that you two were pretending to make me jealous. That it was all an act."

My heart skipped a beat. Of course, Jungkook would have been the one to spill it. Now, hearing Jimin say it out loud felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over me.

Jimin shifted, his face growing more serious. "At first, I didn’t know what to think when I heard that from him. But then, it hit me." He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "I realized that I’ve been an idiot. I’ve been sitting here, watching you, pretending like I didn’t care, when the truth is, I care more than I’ve ever let on."

He took a breath, and my heart fluttered nervously in my chest. I didn’t know what he was about to say, but it felt like everything had come to this point. 

"I’ve liked you for so long, Y/N," Jimin confessed, his voice a little softer now, vulnerable. "But I’ve always been afraid to say anything. Afraid that it would ruin our friendship, that it would change everything between us." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I kept telling myself I wasn’t ready, that it was better left unsaid." 

His expression softened, his eyes searching mine. "But watching you with Namjoon tonight and these past couple of months, pretending to be with him, it made me realize how much of a fool I’ve been. I should’ve stepped up sooner, I should’ve told you how I felt." He shook his head, frustration and regret in his voice. "I’ve been too scared, too wrapped up in my own insecurities to take a chance. But I’m done with that, Y/N."

He took another step forward, the space between us closing. "I care about you," he said, his voice steady now, full of sincerity. "I’ve always cared about you. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t. I like you, Y/N. I really like you. And I’m sorry it took me so long to say it."

I stood there, frozen, my chest tightening as his words echoed in my ears. Jimin, the guy I had had a crush on for a long time, had just confessed to me. The weight of his confession settled over me, both a relief and a shock. But there was also confusion, so much confusion. Had I been blind to all of this? Why had he never said anything before? And if I was being honest with myself, did I like him back anymore?

Before I could process everything, Jimin stepped closer, his eyes filled with hope and uncertainty. "So, what do you think?" he asked softly. "I know it’s a lot to take in, but I couldn’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way about you anymore."

I felt my heart racing in my chest, torn between Jimin’s confession and the unresolved feelings I had for Namjoon. I didn’t know how to respond, but I knew one thing for sure: everything had just changed.

I took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage I had left. This wasn’t easy, and I knew it was going to hurt, but I had to be honest with Jimin. I couldn’t keep pretending like everything was okay, like my heart wasn’t pulling in two different directions.

"Jimin," I started, my voice quieter than I intended, but firm. "I need to be honest with you. Yes, it was about you, making you jealous, at first. It was part of the plan, to make you see... make you notice me." I paused, watching his face as he took in my words. His expression shifted, and for a second, I could see the pain in his eyes, but I pushed forward.

"But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about that." I shook my head, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Somewhere along the way, I... I started to fall for Namjoon."

Jimin blinked, his lips parting slightly as if trying to make sense of what I’d just said. His gaze was intense, like he was searching for something in me, an explanation, an apology, I wasn’t sure.

"I don’t blame you for not realizing sooner," I continued, my heart heavy with the truth I was finally saying out loud. "I should’ve said something. I should’ve told you how I felt, instead of waiting around for you to make a move. I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for so long... and I was too scared to admit that I was falling for someone else." I wiped at my eyes, trying to hold it together, but it wasn’t easy.

Jimin’s face softened, his usual mischievous smile gone, replaced with something more vulnerable. "Y/N... I didn’t know," he murmured, his voice low. "I didn’t know you were waiting for me like that. I thought... I thought I had all the time in the world."

I nodded, feeling the weight of my own regrets. "We both did," I whispered. "But maybe it was meant to be this way. Maybe we weren’t supposed to figure this out sooner. Maybe everything that’s happened, all the confusion, the pretending... it was just leading me to this point."

I took a deep breath, feeling like I was freeing myself from something heavy I’d been carrying for far too long. "I like Namjoon now, Jimin. And I don’t know what’s going on with him, with his ex, or whatever. Maybe he’s with her again, maybe not. But I can’t keep holding onto what could’ve been with you, because I’ve realized it’s not just about you anymore."

The silence stretched between us as Jimin absorbed my words. I could see him trying to process everything, his eyes searching my face for any hint of uncertainty. But there was none. 

"I’m sorry," I added softly, my voice trembling slightly. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I can’t keep pretending, either. I’ve made my choice." 

Jimin finally sighed, his shoulders dropping as if he was releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His eyes met mine, and for the first time, there was no frustration or confusion in them, just a quiet understanding.

"I get it," he said, his voice rough but steady. "I kinda knew I was too late. And maybe... maybe I should have said something sooner too. But I can’t blame you for that. You deserve to be with someone who’s not afraid to take the chance, someone who’s not scared of ruining the friendship. I see that now." He smiled, but it was bittersweet. "And if Namjoon makes you happy, then I’m happy for you. I mean that."

I felt a weight lift off my chest, the tension between us dissolving in that moment. "Thank you," I whispered. "I... I never wanted to hurt you, Jimin. You’re still one of my dearest friends. I just had to be honest with you."

Jimin nodded, his smile softening as he gave me a reassuring look. "I know. And I’ll be okay. I’m not going anywhere, you know? We’ll figure this out, all of us."

The words he said were comforting, but the reality of it all still felt heavy in my chest. I wasn’t sure where things would go from here, but for the first time, I felt like I could breathe again, knowing that I had said what I needed to say, that I had let go of the past.

I took a final, steadying breath and gave him one last, grateful smile. "I’m glad we talked, Jimin. And... I hope things don’t feel too weird between us after this."

"They won’t," he assured me, his eyes soft with understanding. "We’ll be fine. You and me. I just... want you to be happy." As the conversation came to a close, I took a step back, the weight of it all finally beginning to lift from my shoulders. Jimin and I had said everything we needed to say, and I was starting to feel like I could move on, that this awkward, unresolved tension was finally behind us.

Jimin offered a small, bittersweet smile before opening his arms. "Come here," he said softly, and without thinking, I stepped into his embrace. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t meant to be, but in that moment, it felt like the closure we both needed. I could feel his warmth, his steady presence, and it grounded me in a way that reassured me everything would be okay. We’d move past this, even if things weren’t perfect right now.

I closed my eyes, letting the moment stretch out for a few seconds, savoring the comfort of having things settle between us.

But just as I was starting to relax, I heard the door creak open.

I pulled back instantly, my heart racing as I saw Namjoon standing in the doorway, his eyes wide, mouth slightly parted in shock. His gaze flicked between me and Jimin, lingering on us just long enough for the weight of the situation to hit him too.

It felt like time had frozen for a moment.

"Y/N..." Namjoon said, his voice a little strained. "Jimin...?"

I didn’t know what to say. The look in his eyes made my stomach twist. It wasn’t jealousy exactly, but something like confusion, hurt.

Before he could say anything else, I quickly moved toward him, trying to make sense of the situation, the tension hanging thick in the air.

"I... We need to talk," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I looked at him. 

Jimin, sensing the shift headed towards the door. I watched as Jimin left, his footsteps fading as he passed through the hallway, leaving me alone with Namjoon. The silence between us felt like a wall, too heavy to break, but I couldn’t ignore the burning need to face this.

I turned to Namjoon, my throat tight. "We need to talk," I repeated, this time louder, more urgent.

Namjoon nodded, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "Yeah. We do."

"Is this why you didn't tell me what you and Jimin talked about at the party?" Namjoon’s voice was tight, the words coming out sharper than I expected. "Did you get what you wanted, Y/N? Is this why you and him are hugging in a separate room?"

His words hit me like a cold wave, and I felt the sting of them settle deep in my chest. The air between us grew heavy, thick with the weight of his accusation, and I could feel the space between us shrinking in all the wrong ways.

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but nothing came out. His eyes never left mine, and there was something raw, almost broken, in the way he looked at me. It was like he was trying to figure out if he’d been a fool this whole time, if everything we had was just a game to me.

I took a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me. My heart was pounding, but I couldn't just let his words hang in the air like that.

"So, you're gonna judge me for talking to Jimin? After you were spotted with your ex?" I shot back, the words coming out sharper than I meant. "You have no right to say anything about me and Jimin when you’re doing whatever it is you’re doing with her."

The moment I said it, I regretted the bitterness in my tone, but I couldn’t help it. It was like everything inside me was bubbling up all at once, frustration, confusion, and that gnawing ache I’d tried to ignore for so long. Namjoon had been acting like nothing had changed, like he was fine with our arrangement, while I was over here questioning everything. And now he was calling me out like I was the one in the wrong.

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, his gaze faltered. I could see the flicker of guilt, maybe even regret, but it quickly turned into something else, something I couldn’t quite place. Was it anger? Jealousy?

I wasn’t sure, but I knew we were both standing on the edge, and I didn’t know how to pull us back. Namjoon took a deep breath, his gaze briefly flicking away as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he spoke again, his voice was tight, his words sharper than usual. "Yeah, I met with her," he admitted, frustration evident in his voice. "But it's not what you think. She kept showing up at the company, begging for forgiveness, even after you told her to back off. I couldn’t ignore her anymore. I had to put an end to it, for good."

He paused, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and something else, something that felt too raw for me to understand in the moment.

His next words hit harder than I expected. "I saw you hugging him, Y/N. You got what you wanted, didn’t you? This whole game, this act you and me were playing for him. You wanted to make Jimin jealous, and now it finally worked." His voice wavered, and the words came out harsher than he probably intended, like he was trying to convince himself. "And here I am, watching all of it, like a damn fool."

There was a pause, and the room seemed to shrink with the tension between us. Namjoon stepped even closer, his presence almost overwhelming. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check. "You know what? It worked on me, too," he said, his voice low and pained. "I thought I didn’t care, If you still chose him after everything, but I do. More than I should. I’ve been lying to myself, pretending I didn’t feel anything, but seeing you with him, seeing you so... close... it made me realize how much I care.Why I can’t stop thinking about you”.

His voice broke, and I saw the regret and jealousy in his eyes. "I should’ve kissed you that night, Y/N. After we fought, I should’ve stopped you from leaving, should’ve said something. But I didn’t. I let you walk away, and I regret it every single second. I’ve been kicking myself for it ever since."

The room felt like it was holding its breath, the air thick with everything that had been said, and everything that was left unspoken. Namjoon stood so close, his presence overwhelming, yet it felt like there was still a gap between us, one that neither of us knew how to cross.

I finally found my voice, despite the tightness in my chest. "What’s stopping you now?" I asked, my tone quieter but firm.

Namjoon blinked, his eyes still searching mine, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice a little strained.

I stepped forward just a fraction, closing the distance, and then, with a sense of finality, I answered him. "The moment you saw after you came here, it was us giving closure to our feelings. Yes, it worked. I made Jimin jealous, and he confessed to me. But I turned him down, Namjoon. Because I can't stop thinking about you, too." My heart pounded in my chest, but I pushed through the fear, the uncertainty. "So, let me ask you again: What’s stopping you from kissing me now?"

The question hung in the air, thick and heavy. His eyes were locked on mine, searching, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For a brief moment, time seemed to stop as we stood there, inches apart, the silence between us deafening. I could see the storm of emotions in his gaze, hurt, longing, confusion, and, beneath it all, something that told me he wasn’t ready to walk away. Not this time.

And then, without warning, he took a step closer. His breath mingled with mine as he cupped my face with his large, warm hands. The touch was gentle, but there was a certain urgency to it, a need that seemed to pulse in the very air around us.

His thumb brushed against my cheek, a soft, almost reverent gesture, as if he were memorizing the feel of me under his fingertips. His eyes never left mine, but I could see the way his pupils dilated, the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath he took. And then, as if the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between us finally broke, he closed the distance, his lips crashing into mine with a force that took me by surprise.

The kiss was desperate, hungry, as though he’d been holding back for too long. His lips moved against mine with a raw intensity, a release of all the emotions that had been building between us for so long. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss, as if he couldn’t get enough of me, like he was trying to pour every ounce of feeling he had into that single, electrifying moment.

I responded with my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The world around us seemed to fade away, the tension, the confusion, everything that had been holding us apart, until there was only the two of us. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, as if we were both trying to make up for lost time, to reclaim something we had almost thrown away.

And in that moment, everything else ceased to matter. The only thing that existed was the overwhelming, undeniable connection  between us, a connection that no words, no misunderstandings, could ever break. The kiss grew more passionate, and everything around us faded into a blur. Namjoon’s hands were at my back, guiding me backward until the wall pressed against my shoulders. The warmth of his body, the intensity of his kiss, left me breathless and yearning for more. His lips moved with purpose, each touch sending waves of heat through my body. He pulled away for a split second, his forehead resting against mine as he caught his breath.

"Do you have any idea how long I’ve been thinking about this?" His voice was low, almost a growl, sending a shiver down my spine. "How your lips would feel against mine...I have been dreaming about it since that day on the elevator... no, even before that." He said it with such intensity that it made my heart race, and I couldn't help but wonder what he meant, but the questions would have to wait. I didn’t care to ask them now.  All I could focus on was him, the way his lips moved with mine, the way he made me feel.

I arched my back as my head leaned against the wall, and his hands found their way to my waist, lifting me effortlessly off the ground. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as the kiss continued. His lips trailed down to my neck, kissing and biting gently murmuring words  like ‘mine’ above my skin between every kiss, sending a mix of pleasure and electricity through my body. Soft moans escaped my lips, and I could feel the heat between us building. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, unable to get enough of him.

But then, a loud crash echoed from the other room, pulling us both out of our haze. We froze for a moment, catching our breath, our faces inches apart.

Namjoon let out a frustrated sigh, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "We can continue this later," he said with a teasing smirk, still holding me tightly against him. "I will make up for every time I didn't kiss you, I promise."

The playful yet possessive undertone in his voice sent a wave of heat through me, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of his words. But for now, we both took a step back, trying to regain some composure as the sound of the broken bottle in the other room faded into the background. Before we left the room, my fingers nervously tugged at the hem of Namjoon's shirt, a sudden shyness washing over me. The heat from the kiss still lingered on my skin, and the words I needed to say felt heavy on my tongue, almost foreign after everything we’d just shared.

"Namjoon," I started, my voice barely above a whisper as I avoided his gaze for a moment. My heart was racing, my hands slightly trembling as I looked up at him. "I... I want to be with you," I confessed, the words feeling like they had been waiting to escape for so long. "After everything that's happened, I don’t want to be here anymore. I just... I want to be with you. Alone."

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smile, but there was something tender in his gaze. "You want to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low, as if he were savoring the thought. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, my fingers still clinging to his shirt, my gaze lifting to meet his. "Yeah... I can pretend to be sick. We can just leave together. I don’t want to be around anyone else right now." The idea of being with him, just the two of us, felt like the only thing that made sense in that moment. Everything else, the party, the other people, suddenly felt so far away.

Namjoon’s expression softened, and he placed a hand gently on my cheek, as if grounding me in the moment. "If that’s what you want, we’ll leave Y/N." he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Let’s go."

I smiled, relief flooding through me as I took his hand. We didn’t need any more words. We were finally on the same page. As Namjoon and I walked back into the room, the weight of everything between us still lingering in the air, we were met with curious glances from the group. My sister was the first to notice me, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the flush on my face, the way I clung a little too tightly to Namjoon’s side.

"Y/N?" she asked, her voice soft, but there was a hint of suspicion in her tone. "Are you okay? You look... a little off."

I blinked, quickly thinking of something to say. My mind was still clouded from everything that had just happened, but I needed to get out of there, needed to get away from all the questions and awkward tension.

"I... I feel a bit tipsy," I said, offering a small, apologetic smile. "I think I need to head out first. It’s been a long night."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly still a bit skeptical. But before she could ask more, Namjoon stepped in, his voice smooth and calm.

"I already ordered an Uber for us," he said, his hand gently resting on my lower back, as if to reassure her. "We’ll head to my place. Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine."

Jimin, Jungkook, and my sister exchanged glances, clearly surprised, but they didn’t press further. After a beat, Jungkook nodded, his usual easygoing smile returning.

"Take care, Y/N. Hope you feel better," he said, giving me a quick wave.

"Yeah, feel better," Jimin added.

My sister’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, but then she sighed, shrugging as if she’d decided there was nothing to do about it.

"Alright, take care of yourself," she said, giving Namjoon a quick nod, as if accepting the situation. "Don’t do anything too crazy, okay?"

I smiled weakly, feeling a mix of guilt and relief at her words. It was like she knew, but she didn’t. Either way, she was letting me go, letting me make my own choices.

With that, we exchanged goodbyes, and Namjoon and I walked out, hand in hand, the door shutting softly behind us. 

As we left the party, the world outside felt like a breath of fresh air. The night was cool, the streets relatively quiet. But all I could think about was what had just happened between us. Everything that had been left unsaid before now felt so clear. There was no going back now.

And as the Uber pulled up and we climbed inside, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. The uncertainty was gone. Whatever had been between us, whatever it was that had kept us apart, had finally clicked into place. And now, as the city lights blurred by the window, I knew that whatever came next, I’d be ready for it, with Namjoon by my side.

*** As we stepped into Namjoon’s apartment, a comfortable silence settled between us. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything that had just happened. He closed the door behind us, his hand resting on the doorknob for a moment as he turned to face me.

“So,” he began softly, his eyes meeting mine, “are you… really okay with this? With us?”

I felt a shy smile tug at my lips. “I’ve never been more sure.” My voice was soft, but I meant every word. I was here, and I didn’t want to turn back. “What about you? Are you… okay with all this?”

Namjoon let out a low laugh, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. “I think I’ve been waiting for this, waiting for you, for longer than I ever realised.” There was a warmth in his gaze, something so honest that it made my heart skip a beat.

We moved further into the room, and he gestured for me to sit. “Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?”

I nodded, chuckling nervously. “Tea sounds good. Something calming, maybe?”

He flashed me a knowing smile and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me to take in my surroundings. I’d been here before, once late at night for our date, but I hadn’t paid much attention then, too caught up in the moment with him. Now, with a moment to breathe, I could see pieces of his personality everywhere, books stacked on the shelves and in piles on the floor, his collection of vinyl records carefully arranged next to the coffee table. It all felt so unmistakably him. 

A few moments later, he returned with two steaming mugs, setting one in front of me. As he sat down next to me on the couch, close enough that our knees brushed, he looked at me with a more serious expression.

“Can I ask… when did it change for you?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper. “When did you know you felt something for me?”

I took a slow sip of tea, hoping it would help me organize the mess of emotions inside. “Honestly?” I hesitated, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “I think it was always there, in some way.”

He tilted his head slightly, watching me closely, and I felt my heart skip at his quiet attention.

“I mean, I liked Jimin, yes… but when I first met all of you, you were the one that caught my eye. But I found out pretty quickly that you had a girlfriend back then, so I pushed the thought away and settled on seeing you as just a friend.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened as I spoke, and it gave me a bit of courage to keep going. We both set our mugs down on the table, the warmth of the tea long forgotten as the weight of our words filled the space between us.

“But when we started pretending…” I paused, looking down at my hands. “It felt more real than I expected. I kept telling myself it was just for show, just a game we were playing. But the more time we spent together, the harder it was to pretend it didn’t mean anything.”

I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t say anything because I was afraid. Afraid I’d misread it, or that I’d just end up… hurting you, or myself.”

He reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I wish I realised sooner.”

I felt his thumb tracing soft circles on my hand, the warmth of his touch anchoring me in the moment. His quiet reassurance, the way he looked at me, it was all starting to melt away any lingering doubts I had.

“Well, we’re here now,” he repeated softly, his gaze steady and full of something I could only describe as understanding, and maybe relief.

I managed a small, nervous smile. “Yeah, we are.”

There was a beat of silence, comfortable and calm. Then, taking a breath, he lifted his other hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "And now that we’re here,” he murmured, his voice a little lower, “I think we both deserve to stop second-guessing ourselves."

He paused, his eyes searching mine. “We don’t have to pretend anymore. No more games, no more hidden feelings. Just… us.”

My heart raced at his words, the weight of everything finally lifting. I looked down at our intertwined hands, feeling a warmth bloom in my chest. “No more pretending,” I echoed, feeling the truth of it settle over me. I met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at my lips.

“So… where do we start?” I asked, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves, savouring the closeness.

Namjoon’s smile softened as he shifted closer, his eyes warm with that familiar spark. “How about we start fresh?” he murmured, and then, leaning in, he pressed his lips to mine, a tender, lingering kiss that felt like a quiet promise, a beginning we’d both been waiting for.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching mine, before leaning in again, his lips brushing softly over mine, testing, savoring. Slowly, his hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers tracing gentle circles, and I felt him draw me in closer. This time, the kiss deepened naturally, as though all the unspoken feelings between us were finally finding their way through, leaving my heart racing in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. 

It felt as though we were back in that moment in the guest room, but this time, without the weight of uncertainty between us. His hands were gentle yet sure, tracing down my back, leaving warmth in their wake. The kiss grew bolder, a mix of all the moments we’d held back, and I felt my own hands grip the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer. 

We broke apart just briefly, his forehead resting against mine, both of us catching our breath, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

"I was thinking of ordering us something," he murmured, his voice a low whisper that sent a thrill through me. His gaze locked onto mine, dark and filled with intent, and I could feel the tension building between us again. 

"But dinner can wait," he added, his words dripping with warmth, making my heart race. "Right now, all I want is you."

With that, his lips found mine again, a bit hungrier this time, and I let myself melt into it, matching his intensity as the moment wrapped around us, everything else falling away.

As the kiss deepened, my hands slid up to his chest, fingers brushing over the firm muscles that were hidden beneath his shirt. I could feel the strong beat of his heart, and I couldn't help but smile against his lips, knowing the effect I was having on him.

Namjoon’s breath hitched slightly as I gently tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head with a growing sense of urgency. The cool air brushed against his skin, and I let my fingers trace the contours of his muscles, marveling at how solid and defined he was. He shivered slightly under my touch, his body reacting to me in ways that made my heart race.

"Y/N..." he breathed, his voice a low growl of pleasure as I ran my hands down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath my fingertips. "You don't know what you do to me."

A soft moan escaped his lips as my touch moved lower, the heat between us intensifying with each passing second. He pulled me closer, his hands sliding to my back, pulling me flush against him and laying me on the couch. Our bodies pressed together, and I felt his desire, undeniable and powerful, pressing into me.

I broke the kiss just long enough to look up at him, my breathing shallow as I let my hands roam, feeling every inch of him. His eyes were dark, his lips swollen from our kiss, and he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving to my waist, slipping beneath my shirt, his touch warm and electric against my skin.

I gasped softly as his fingers skimmed the skin of my back, sending a wave of heat through me. My hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, and we resumed kissing, this time with more urgency. The world outside of the room didn’t exist anymore, there was only Namjoon, and the undeniable pull between us.

We continued, caught in the heat of the moment, kisses growing more passionate, more desperate as we lost ourselves in each other. Time seemed to stand still, and all that mattered was the connection we were building, one that felt right, real, and unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

Namjoon pulled out for a bit to catch a breath and leaned in closer again , his breath warm against my skin as he gazed down at me, his fingers brushing gently along the fabric of my shirt. His voice was low, smooth, and filled with a quiet intensity.

"Can I?" he asked, his eyes flickering between my chest and my eyes, seeking permission with the unspoken question. 

I nodded, my heart racing, feeling the heat of the moment building between us. There was no rush, just the weight of our emotions and the pull between us. Slowly, he slid his hands to the hem of my shirt, his touch reverent, as if he was savouring every inch of the space between us.

As the shirt lifted over my head, I could feel the electricity between us intensifying. Namjoon didn’t break eye contact. He looked me up and down, enjoying the image. “So perfect, just for me...” His gaze was unwavering, filled with something deeper than desire, something more intimate. His lips parted, but before they could meet mine again, he lowered his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my neck, his lips tracing the curve of my skin.

I arched into him, my fingers threading through his hair. The kiss from his lips moved down my throat, then between my breasts, and continued further down to my stomach. He stopped just above my heat, still covered by my pants, sending a surge of warmth through me.

Then, as his lips came back up to mine, my hands reached for his belt, never breaking the kiss. My fingers fumbled with it briefly, but soon it was undone, he helped me push his trousers down. He kicked them off swiftly, and moved to undoing my trousers, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked them off my body. As he traced his fingers along the inner part of my thigh, his lips continued their journey down my skin, sending electric jolts of anticipation through me.

Now, we were both only in our underwear. Namjoon hovered above me, his eyes meeting mine with a silent question, a flicker of hesitation in his gaze as he sought my consent. I nodded, breathlessly. With that, he placed a hand on my back, unclipping my bra slowly, as if savouring the moment. He slid it off with ease, his hands now fully free to roam.

His touch was firm yet tender as he cupped both of my breasts, his fingers gently kneading them while his lips found the spot below my ear, murmuring sweet words against it. His breath was hot against me, the weight of his words sending waves of desire down my spine. I could feel his body pressing into mine, his clothed groin humping me, the heat between us building again. “Joon” I moaned. “I think I need you now.” My body felt hotter by each second that was passing.

“I know, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and intense. “Just let me pleasure you more first. Let me take care of you.”

He continued with his move again, not breaking eye contact as his hand travelled down, hovering just above my heat. Gently, he moved my panties to the side and slid one finger in. He retracted it and put the finger in his mouth.

“So wet…so sweet” Namjoon murmured, licking the slickness from his finger. I gasped from the pleasure as he went back and slid in another finger, both now moving in and out. Then he began using a scissoring motion, working in perfect rhythm. When he added a third finger, my vision blurred.

“Ah… I think I’m close,” I managed to gasp.

“Then come for me, Y/N,” he urged, finding that perfect spot that made me tremble. A high-pitched cry escaped me as I reached my climax, releasing everything that had built up inside. But it was not enough. I needed more of him.

“Namjoon, you either fuck me right now or else—”

“Or else what?” he teased, smiling and hoovering on top of me.

“I—I don’t know. I’ll probably fuck myself again with my own fingers if I can,” I breathed.

“As much as I’d love to see you do that, I think that can wait a little,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

Before I could protest, he scooped me into a bridal position and rose to his feet. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I almost fucked you right here, when you were calling my name. But as much as I want to, I’d like to make you comfortable first,  in my bed,” he said, walking toward his room. A few moments later, I felt the soft cold mattress behind my back as Namjoon placed me down hovering again on top of me. I looked up and slowly averted my gaze down toward his bulge, it looked big and hard, his member almost ripping off his underwear. Both breathing heavily I came forward again and caught his lips against mine. But that didn't last long as Joon put some distance and quickly gave me a peck on the forehead. ‘’Fuck”’ Namjoon hisses under his breath.”’Look at you so perfectly layed on my bed” his eyes continuing to roam my body, and when they reached a particular part my female hood, I decided to tease him further and sliding my panties slowly to the side while under him. His eyes returned to me for a bit and then back to where my hands were occupied. Silence creeped all over the room and only the beating of our heart and breaths could be heard. There I was now all bare under him, soaking wet anchoring for his touch. 

“Fuck... Y/N… You have no idea, do you? The effect you have on me. God only knows how many times these walls have heard your name these past weeks.”

“So... you mean... you did that?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice thick with need. “Even in my dreams, all I could see was you. I’ve craved you every day since we started this whole ‘fake’ thing. And now...” He trailed off, his gaze intense. “I’m going to make you feel good, baby. I—” 

“Fuck, Joon… just fuck me already, please.” I pleaded, unable to stand the teasing, the intense gaze, and all the compliments any longer. Just the sound of his smooth, raspy voice had me close to reaching my second orgasm.

“Someone’s needy… and ruining that pretty little mouth for me,” he murmured.

“If you let me, I think you'd be surprised at what else this mouth can do,” I replied with a smirk.

“Oh?...than I better fuck you now so you can show me all of that later”

Namjoon stretched his arm to my right, above my head, reaching for his nightstand. He opened the top drawer and took a condom out of the box. I didn’t even question it—he’s a grown man, after all, and probably has a lot of experience with this. Still, I felt a little shy. It wasn’t my first time, but thinking about it all made me feel a hint of pressure. I quickly pushed that thought away, I liked Namjoon a lot, and he seemed to like me too. My eyes shifted to his actions as I tried to stay in the moment.

He slipped out of his boxers, and his thick, hard length sprang free, red and glistening with precum.

"Shit, Joon..." I whimpered, looking up into his eyes.

"What?" he asked with a smirk, clearly amused by my reaction.

“You’re huge... How is that going to fit?” Embarrassment crept up my cheeks.

“You’ll get used to it,” he murmured, his voice low and confident.

If my face had been red before, now my whole body felt on fire. But I wasn’t about to let him think this was too easy for me.

“You sound so cocky… What if you end up disappointing?” I teased, laughing softly and covering my mouth.

Namjoon’s grin widened as he rolled the condom on, then slid two fingers into me without warning. I gasped, muffling the sound with my hand, thankful I’d caught it, or the whole neighbourhood might have heard.

"Let’s just say you chose the right member, love... the one that’ll make you scream the loudest.” he murmured.

I couldn’t respond, only nodding as he began to move his fingers, preparing me for what was to come. He met my eyes, waiting for my signal, and when I nodded again, he slowly replaced his fingers with his thick length, easing himself in.

If I hadn’t seen stars by then, I certainly was now. One push, and I was already crying out from the stretch.

“Fuck, so tight, so perfect... Y/N, tell me if it hurts,” he whispered, voice rough.

But I was too lost in pleasure to respond, only nodding and moving with him as he began to thrust, each movement filling the room with our heavy breaths, pants, and the sound of skin meeting skin.

Namjoon lifted one of my legs, hooking it over his shoulder, and suddenly, he was hitting a deeper spot that made me see white.

I wouldn’t be surprised if my legs ended up bruised. Longing for his lips again, I reached up and captured his mouth, losing myself in the kiss.

Tongues and teeth met as we kissed until Namjoon broke away, gasping for air. “You take me so well, Y/N… like your body…” His fingers traced circles over my clit. “This pussy… was made for me.”

I couldn’t respond, just nodding and crying out in pleasure. The way Namjoon made me feel, the way he moved inside me, it was like we were perfectly made for each other. Everything that had come before led to this moment, us becoming one.

Thrust after thrust, kiss after kiss, I lost all sense of time.

Not until Namjoon said against my neck “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” he panted.

“Then let go,” I whispered.

“Y/N, I’m about to—”

“Me too.”

And with that, we came together, bodies pressed close, shuddering in sync as the last waves of pleasure passed over us.

Namjoon pulled out, quickly removed the condom, and tied it off before stepping out of bed. Moments later, he returned, gently wiping me clean with a warm towel. His movements were soft, careful, as if he were savoring each moment. I watched him in silence, feeling a strange mix of bliss and tenderness settle over me. Once he finished, he tossed the towel aside and lay back down beside me, pulling me into his arms.

We stayed like that, wrapped in each other, letting our breathing slow in sync. His fingers traced gentle patterns along my shoulder, and I closed my eyes, melting into the warmth of his embrace. 

"So," I said, breaking the silence with a teasing smile, "I guess the sex wasn’t that bad after all."

Namjoon laughed softly, looking at me with a raised brow. “Oh really? Just not that bad? I thought I was pretty damn good.”

I grinned, poking his chest playfully. “You were good. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Perfect. There’s still a lot I could teach you.”

His expression shifted, and I saw that familiar smirk spread across his face. “Is that so? I’d love to see what you’ve got in mind, Y/N,” he teased, his voice low and filled with mock confidence.“Does it have anything to do with that pretty mouth of yours?” “Careful now, Joon. I won't give you the satisfaction just yet,” I teased back, running a finger down his chest. “Besides, you’ve had a lot of practice pretending, but a real relationship with me is a whole different thing, you know?”

Namjoon’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in, brushing his lips against my ear. “Oh, I’m not pretending anymore, love. And I think we’ve got a real thing going here. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

I laughed, a little breathless from the way his words made me feel. “I think I can handle it. You just better keep up.”

He chuckled, pulling me closer, his lips brushing against mine in a brief but tender kiss. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that. But I’ll be sure to keep you on your toes.”

“Good,” I whispered, my smile playful as I looked up at him. “Because if you can’t keep me entertained, I know someone who can.” He growled softly, pulling me closer, his arms tightening around me. “You’re really trying to make me jealous, huh?”

I smirked, teasing him further. “Maybe I am.”

Namjoon’s expression softened, but there was still that edge of possessiveness in his eyes. “You’re mine now, Y/N. Let’s make sure you don’t forget that.”

And with that, it seemed like Joon and I were bound to continue, losing ourselves in each other throughout the night.

***

The morning sun crept in through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. I stirred, feeling Namjoon’s arm wrapped around me, our fingers loosely entwined as we lay facing each other. His eyes were still closed, a relaxed expression softening his features. I smiled, gently tracing my thumb over his knuckles, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth and contentment.

As if sensing my gaze, Namjoon’s eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” I replied, a little shy as I tightened my hold on his hand. We lay in silence for a few moments, just taking in the comfort of being close, his fingers absently tracing small circles along my back. I layed there with him, enjoying the quiet simplicity of the moment, feeling like we didn’t need any words to understand what we were both feeling.

After a while, a thought crossed my mind, and I couldn’t resist asking. “You know… I’ve been meaning to ask,” I started, my voice barely above a whisper, “you mentioned you liked me a while back. Was it… that time during our date, when we played Two Truths and a Lie, and you mentioned that you had a crush on someone… Was that me?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as his thumb continued to stroke along my spine. “Yes, but” he said, looking into my eyes with a gentle smile. “It was actually before that, long before.”

Namjoon’s eyes held mine as he gathered his thoughts, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know if I ever told you this, but the first time I saw you, it wasn’t like anything I expected. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, you just… had this ease about you that made everyone around you feel comfortable. It got to me.”

His fingers traced light patterns along my face now as he spoke. “Back then, I was with my ex, so I didn’t dwell on it too much. But even so, there was this… spark of curiosity, you know? Like, I wanted to understand what made you, you.” His smile grew fonder, his eyes distant, lost in the memory. I felt my cheeks warm at his confession, my heart racing as I watched him speak. “And then… when my relationship ended, it felt like I was finally allowing myself to really notice you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “But by then, I could tell you had your eyes set on Jimin. And I’ll be honest, it bugged me a little. I just couldn’t shake this feeling that he was missing something… how foolish he was not to notice you”.

I could see the faintest hint of frustration flash in his eyes“ And I don’t know, maybe it was selfish, but… I wanted you to look at me that way. It started small at first, just these little moments where I’d think about you, or catch myself looking for you at gatherings. Then, when I’d see you laughing at something he said, I’d feel this pang of… jealousy.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and filled with something raw. “When I saw you on that balcony, smoking and looking lost in your thoughts, I couldn’t help but wonder what was on your mind. And I thought, why not make my move? If Jimin was too blind to see you, maybe I’d have a chance. Even if it was selfish, even if I was coming in knowing you liked someone else… I just wanted you to see me, notice me, even if I had to pretend at first.”

Namjoon paused, looking down at our hands, his thumb stroking softly over my knuckles now. “I guess that was when I realised… pretending or not, I just wanted you to feel about me the way I felt about you.”

His honesty made my heart swell, and I was at a loss for words. I could see in his eyes that every word was real, and in that moment, I knew he was letting me see a part of him he rarely showed anyone else.

My heart pounded as his words sank in, the honesty and vulnerability behind them making my chest tighten with emotion.

“Guess it was lucky for me that Jimin never noticed, then,” I whispered with a soft smile, and he chuckled, his forehead pressing gently against mine.

“Lucky for both of us,” he murmured, his gaze warm and full of promise. “This still feels like a dream,” I said softly, my gaze drifting over his face. “These past two months, and then last night… it all feels unreal.”

“Feels pretty real to me,” Namjoon replied.

I grinned, unable to resist a tease. “You know,” I murmured, leaning in slightly, “for someone who was so sure of himself last night, you seemed pretty determined to impress me.”

Namjoon’s brow arched, and he chuckled, squeezing my hand. “Determined? Or just confident?”

I let out a laugh. “Confident? Maybe,” I said, grinning. “But I’d say you were pretty eager to prove yourself.”

“Oh, is that so?” he asked, his voice low and playful, as his fingers continued to trace gentle patterns along my hand. “Sounds to me like you enjoyed every second.”

I bit my lip, raising a brow. “I don’t know, Mr. Kim. You may have to convince me again.”

Namjoon’s eyes sparkled, his hand slipping around my waist, pulling me a little closer. “Careful, Y/N. If you keep teasing me, I might just have to make it my mission to remind you all day,” he murmured, his lips hovering close to mine, a playful challenge lighting up his gaze.

I smirked, raising an eyebrow. “How about I take charge today instead?”

A flicker of curiosity sparked in his eyes, and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the idea. Instead, he leaned back slightly, watching me with a smirk of his own as I moved even closer, letting the suggestion linger between us.

We were still both very much naked from last night, with only the sheet draped over us. I shifted slightly, lifting myself just enough to reach toward his nightstand on my left, remembering from last night that this was where he kept the condoms, or at least, I was pretty sure that’s where they were. Namjoon’s smirk deepened as he watched me, clearly intrigued. "Oh, I’m all yours," he murmured, his tone full of invitation. He leaned back further against the headboard, keeping his arms folded behind his head, completely giving in to the moment.

As I inched closer, I took my time, savouring the way his eyes never left mine, his gaze filled with a mix of amusement and anticipation. I slowly opened the wrapper, letting the silence hang between us, thick with tension and a playful edge. His breathing grew just a little heavier, betraying his calm facade. His cock hard and dripping already as I slid the wrapper over him.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying the view,” I teased, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder as I positioned myself just above him.

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Well, you’re making it hard not to.” He raised an eyebrow, letting his gaze roam over me. I smirked, letting my fingers trail slowly down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. "Oh, am I?" I whispered, tilting my head as I looked at him, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Because I could always take my time... really draw this out. Make you wait." 

Namjoon’s gaze darkened, his smirk widening as he tried to keep his composure. “You think I’d let you get away with that?” he murmured, but there was a challenge in his tone that only encouraged me.

I leaned in, letting my lips brush against his neck, my breath warm against his skin. "I don’t think you’re in any position to stop me, actually," I teased, pressing a few light kisses along his jaw, my hands tracing down his sides, deliberately slow.

A low chuckle escaped him, and he tilted his head slightly to give me more access, his hands resting on my hips but making no move to stop me. “Careful,” he whispered, his voice soft but intense. “I might just lose my patience.” 

“Then I guess you’ll just have to wait and see how long you can hold out,” I replied, brushing my lips just over his, close enough to feel the warmth, but keeping just enough distance to keep him guessing. I held his gaze, letting a playful smile spread across my lips as I positioned myself, teasingly closer. Leaning in, I pressed my body against his, letting him feel the warmth but still holding back. I could feel his hands tighten around my waist as his breathing grew heavier, his gaze intense with anticipation and just a hint of frustration.

Slowly, I sank down, letting him feel the barest hint of contact, then just as quickly lifted myself back up, watching his reaction. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing with a mix of desire and impatience. “You’re really testing me here,” he muttered, his voice rough, a little desperate.

I smiled at his frustration, feeling the power shift in my favour as I teased him further. "Oh, but I like watching you squirm," I whispered, my voice light, yet dripping with the tension of the moment. I lowered myself just enough to feel the brush of him against me, but pulled away before it could escalate.

Namjoon let out a frustrated groan, his hands gripping my hips with an intensity that bordered on desperate. His eyes were burning with need, and I could see the control he was trying to maintain slipping away. "Y/N... please..." His voice was rough, almost pleading, and it sent a thrill through me.

I raised an eyebrow, enjoying the way he was unravelling before me. "Please what?" I teased, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered the words.

He froze for a moment, a conflicted look crossing his features before he finally let out a frustrated breath. "Please, don't make me beg," he muttered, his voice thick with want. "I can't take much more of this."

The challenge in his tone only made me smile wider. "Oh, but I think you can," I murmured, my fingers tracing his jawline as I leaned in close again, lips barely brushing his. "Beg for it, Namjoon."

The raw edge of his voice when he finally responded—"Please, Y/N, I need you..."—was all the confirmation I needed. The desperation in his eyes, the way his body tensed and trembled beneath me, made it impossible to resist. I slowly lowered myself once more, this time not pulling away.

When I sank down, both of us moaned in unison, the sound filling the air between us. I started moving up and down, the rhythm slow at first, but I could feel Namjoon trying to hold back his moans, his control slipping. He couldn't contain it anymore, and he began moaning my name, deep and desperate.

“Y/N…”

“Yeah?” I barely replied, my voice a whisper.

“I am yours, Y/N…”

The sound of it sent a rush of heat through me, and I found myself doing the same, moaning his name as I picked up the pace, moving faster and more urgently. He tightened his grip on my hips, his fingers digging in as he helped me move faster, the thrusts harsher now, each one more powerful than the last. His lips travelled down my neck and chest, and he began to play with my breasts, his kisses trailing down my body, sending waves of pleasure through me. My hands ran down his back, nails lightly scratching his skin as he groaned into me, his body pressing harder against mine.

He groaned my name again, the sound low and desperate, making my body tremble in response. I could feel the heat building inside of me, the pleasure spiralling with every move. I arched into him, feeling his teeth graze my skin, the sensation causing my legs to shake.

My hands roamed up to his hair, tugging him closer, pulling him into a kiss that was as urgent as everything else between us. His tongue met mine, hungry and demanding. The heat between us was unbearable now, the tension mounting, and I could feel myself getting closer to the edge with every passing second.

“You’re in control, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Take what you want.”

His mouth was parted, a low growl escaping him as he groaned, his eyes dark with need.

“God, Y/N, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, his fingers digging into my skin. “Don’t stop, don’t slow down.”

I leaned down, pressing my chest against his, our lips brushing together briefly before I lifted myself again, the sensation of him filling me overwhelming. His hands slid to my back, pulling me closer, pressing me into him as he thrust up in time with my movements, making me gasp.

“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Namjoon breathed out. “I can’t... I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Say my name,” I whispered, my voice sultry as I rode him even faster.

“Y/N!” Namjoon gasped, his body trembling beneath me. “Y/N, please… don’t stop.”

The desperation in his voice made me smile, and I pushed myself to go even faster, each thrust more powerful than the last. I could feel myself getting closer, the pressure in my lower stomach tightening as I moved with him, both of us chasing that inevitable release. “Fuck, Y/N… I’m so close…” Namjoon groaned, his hands gripping my ass harder, his body arching into mine as he kept me in place, him buried deep inside, grinding back and forth, stimulating my clit with every move. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to keep his composure.

“Me too,” I panted, my voice breathless as I leaned down to kiss him, our lips crashing together in a desperate, hungry kiss. I kept riding him, faster now, each motion pushing us both closer to the edge. “Don’t stop, Namjoon... keep going...”

“I won’t,” he muttered, his voice rough, his hands pressing me down onto him harder, pushing us both to the brink. “Fuck, Y/N... I’m going to...”

His body tensed beneath me, and I felt the tight coil inside me snap as I let out a low moan, the pleasure rushing through me, making my vision blur for a moment. Namjoon followed right after, his grip tightening on me as he groaned my name, his release overwhelming him.

We both collapsed, breathless and spent, our bodies still tangled together, as the tension finally eased, leaving us in the aftermath of everything. I rested against his chest, trying to catch my breath, his heart still pounding beneath my ear.

"God," he whispered softly, his fingers gently running through my hair, his voice hushed but full of satisfaction. "That was... incredible."

I smiled, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the quiet settle between us as we tried to slow our breathing. ***

After, we showered together, the water cascading down our bodies, we shared a peaceful silence, the steam fogging up the bathroom. There was an unspoken comfort between us, the quiet intimacy of helping each other wash our bodies. The moments that would normally feel awkward or rushed felt so natural with him, every touch between us a wordless connection that I hadn't realised I was craving.

When we finally stepped out, the warmth of the room met our damp skin, and I reached for a towel, drying my hair as Namjoon looked at me with that familiar concern.

"Let me help you with your hair," he said softly, stepping closer.

I gave him a playful smile, brushing the towel through my hair. “It’s fine, Namjoon. I got it,” I reassured him, wanting to do it myself since I knew it would take a while to dry.

He chuckled, clearly not ready to stop being helpful. “Okay, then how about I make us some coffee? You probably need it after all that…” His words trailed off with a grin, but there was a hint of awkwardness in his tone, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to go from here.

“Sounds good,” I said, reaching for one of his shirts hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was oversized, the fabric soft and warm as I pulled it over my head, a small comfort against my still-damp skin. It felt right, almost like it was meant for me.

As Namjoon turned toward the kitchen, I couldn’t help but linger for a moment, watching him walk away. His broad shoulders and the way his muscles flexed with each step had my heart racing. I felt this undeniable pull to him, and the shirt I wore only made me feel closer, more connected to him. It was like I was already a part of his world, and that realisation made me smile, despite the growing rush in my chest.

I entered the kitchen, stopping in front of him to get his attention. The sight of me in his shirt, with nothing but my bare legs showing, made him freeze for a second. His eyes darkened, and the intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore. He swallowed hard, the breath hitching in his throat as he looked me up and down, as if trying to decide whether he could keep his composure or if he was going to lose himself.

Before I could say anything, he stepped toward me, and with one swift motion, he lifted me up onto the kitchen counter, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was desperate and full of hunger. “You look so good in my shirt…” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and raspy. “I don’t think I can get enough of you.”

His hands roamed to my waist, pulling me closer and I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, the heat between us escalating in an instant. But just as things started to get more heated, the sound of a phone ringing broke through the thick tension in the room. I pulled away just slightly, eyes narrowing as I tried to figure out whose phone it was. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath. It could’ve been Jungkook, or worse, my sister. Neither of them had heard from me since I’d come back here with Namjoon, and I knew they’d be worried by now. We hadn’t texted them about anything, not even letting them know I was still here.

Namjoon, looking just as frustrated at the interruption, gave me a brief kiss on the forehead before pulling away. “I’ll grab our phones,” he said, his voice heavy with need but also that underlying concern for what was going on outside the bubble we’d created for ourselves.

I slid back down from the counter, standing with my legs shaky from the intensity of our kiss. Namjoon went to grab the phones from the living room, and I quickly adjusted my shirt, feeling the sudden awkwardness of the situation hit me.

Namjoon returned with both phones in hand, and I glanced at the screen of mine, seeing the name that immediately caused my stomach to flip, my sister. I let out a deep breath before answering, holding the phone to my ear while my eyes stayed locked on Namjoon, who was now back at the counter, making coffee as though nothing had happened.

"Hey," I said into the phone, trying to sound casual, but there was a slight quiver in my voice that betrayed me.

“Y/N, are you still at Namjoon’s?” My sister’s voice was laced with concern. “I’ve been calling, texting, you didn’t answer any of my messages. We were getting worried!”

I glanced at Namjoon again, and his eyes were on me. There was no judgement, just an understanding in his gaze.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, speaking into the phone while my eyes never left Namjoon. I couldn’t help but smile at the way he moved about the kitchen so casually, so unaffected by what we’d just experienced. “I’m still at Namjoon’s, okay? I promise, I’ll explain everything later.”

My sister didn’t sound fully convinced, but she let out a small sigh. “Alright, just call me when you’re back. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I will,” I assured her, hanging up after a brief exchange of more pleasantries. I looked over at Namjoon, who had just finished making the coffee and was now smiling coming towards me. His smile was effortless, revealing his adorable dimples, and there was a warmth in his gaze that deepened with every moment we shared. As I stood there, the realisation slowly crept in that everything was finally falling into place. Soon, we'd have to explain everything to the group, the fake dating, the misunderstandings, and everything that led us to this point. Sure, some details would be left out, things that didn’t need to be said, but it no longer mattered. What mattered now was what we had here, right in this moment, real, unfiltered, and undeniable.

With Namjoon, everything felt authentic. There was no pretending, no uncertainty. For the first time, I didn’t have to second-guess myself or him. I was falling for him in a way I hadn’t expected, and this time, it wasn’t for show. It wasn’t a story we were playing out for anyone else. This was real. This was ours. And as I stood there with him, I knew that this was the beginning of something new, something I never wanted to let go of.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Haven't written about Viktor in a hot minute, no clue if anyone missed him but you're getting crumbs regardless of your feelings.

P.S. I'm editing this later after it was posted. I was very tired when I wrote this.

yandere mortician masterlist.

Every single evening, Viktor could find you sitting alone in a coffee shop.

It was standard procedure for him by this point, so much so that it even became a part of his schedule. He would always finish his work early and skip off to find you, always lurking in the comfort of darkness.

He was unsure on how to feel about seeing you like this. Like clockwork, Viktor would watch you scour your city for a new place to huddle up in for a few hours, always alone. Viktor always found this odd as he knew that you had some good friends, friends who you love and adore.

Why did you never bring them with you, he would often ponder.

Without skipping a beat, his heart never failed to swell with the tiniest hint of joy in catching you alone like this, even if Viktor knew all too well that he was no better than a phantom to you. It felt intimate somehow, watching you in your element like this. Sometimes you would bring a book with you and spend the time reading. Viktor was always curious which novels you liked, always quickly looking them up and finding out everything he possibly could about them. If he had the time, he would even go through some of those books if he could find them as he wished to learn more about your preferences.

Hours would pass, people would come and go. Viktor would sometimes tune back into the world around him and see how the rest of the world was doing. It was so fascinating to listen in to some of those conversations. People had plans, great plans and most of them would just go down the drain.

He never was much of an optimist. He was used to being compared to a stormy cloud of pessimism, but he never saw himself in such a light. Viktor always thought of himself as more of a realist if he was being frank. All those big dreams would stay just that - dreams. That was how things usually went for most normal people. Not even the most exceptional human beings on the planet could escape the dull ache of normalcy, the cold realization that you really were just one person in this world. If you were to die, the world would continue to spin, seasons would change and life would go on.

Sipping on his hot drink, Viktor laughed bitterly to himself. Life could be so cruel sometimes. The stench of the chemicals he was working with earlier clung onto him tight, causing some people to wonder what was so off about him. Viktor would try to clean himself from top to bottom, but it was all to no avail.

That was simply how his world functioned. Death and decay were nothing to him, all in the day's work. Although, his world was not so bleak, he supposed.

He had you now.

Every single person around him was trapped in their own little bubble, completely unaware of anything. He was no different, he supposed. His bubble consisted of his piping hot coffee, chill November air, the blinding lights and his favorite person in the whole world.

This was enough for him, for now.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 4- The Chase

Summary: You can only keep running from Frankie Morales for so long. At some point, he'll catch up to you, whether you like it, or not.

Word Count: 3.5K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Do I spy a hint of... ✨feelings✨??? Yearning, a hint of teenage violence (Santi deserves it, it's okay), the appearance of the Miller Brothers, Frankie basically looking like this 🥺 for the last half of this chapter, banter because I live for it

A/N: I'm convinced that teenage Frankie and the Frontier Boys are the best characters to write for, period 😭 I never thought I would live to see the day where my chapters are less than 5K (?!?) but I'm really trying to be better about posting on a schedule- If you would rather have them be longer and wait two weeks between chapters instead of once a week, let ya girl know 🤷🏼‍♀️ Thank you for all of your kind words about this story, your kind comments literally fuel me and make my heart explode, ily 🥹💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Frankie, Fall of 2005, Age 16

For as much as he hates school, there will be two classes Frankie knows he’ll always pass with flying colors- Gym and Math. 

When he and Santi went to pick up their 11th grade class schedules before the start of the school year, you would have thought they’d won the lottery when they looked down on the crinkled half sheets of paper to find they were both in the same 6th period gym class. 

Five weeks into the start of Junior year, Frankie’s now convinced that Santi and his new friends, Will and Benny Miller, are in on some sort of scheme to make him fail the one class he’s guaranteed an “A” in. 

“Jesus Christ, Frankie, for the love of God, will you please slow down?!” 

Santi’s all but huffing at the pace Frankie had set for the four of them to run the two miles they’re supposed to finish by the end of class, only three of the eight laps they need to run around the track completed. 

“We’re not even going that fast, Santi, you’re fine.” 

Frankie can’t help but laugh at the way his friend is laboring behind him. Sure, Santi’s got football to thank for keeping him looking less like a gangly string bean than Frankie does, but even at 16, the boyish satisfaction of knowing he’ll always be faster than his friend is undeniable.

“Do you do like, cross country or somethin’, Frankie?” 

“Yeah man, I thought Santi said you swam not ran.” 

The Miller Brothers were a new addition to his and Santi’s long standing friendship duo. Will and Benny moved from North Carolina over the summer and had befriended Santi after a few weeks of preseason football camp that the high school held before the start of the school year. Of course, that meant Frankie became friends by proxy shortly after. 

Frankie was fond enough of the two, but the group was still stuck in the awkward dating phase of friendship where everything was just enough of a pissing match to prove that they were worthy enough of each other’s company. 

“Yeah, I’m on the swim team, I don’t do cross country or anything like that.” Frankie shrugs, rounding the curve of the track with ease as he leads the pack to their halfway point. 

“Then how the hell did you get so fast?” Benny pants, the straw blonde hair matted to his forehead with sweat scrunching as he pinches his brows in a mixture of confusion and unadmitted pain. 

“‘Cause he likes to go running with MacKenzie.” 

Santi’s lips curl to a devious smile as he watches Frankie’s face grow red from his sing-songy taunting. At least with the Millers, Frankie could pretend to chalk the hot, pink sting in his cheeks to the mile he’s been running. Unfortunately, he can’t assume the same with Santi. 

“Shut up, Santi.” Frankie grumbles, picking up his pace to the point he knows it’ll make Santi’s lungs strain just enough to keep him from rambling. 

“Oh shit, like, MacKenzie Anderson, MacKenzie?” Will’s face lights up, his less than lengthy friendship making him blissfully unaware of the history between you and Frankie, “She’s hot.” 

“Ew, n- no, she’s not. That’s weird.” 

The other three are surprised Frankie’s pants have yet to set on fire after such a bold lie. 

“They go run together every weekend.” 

At this point, it’s pure mockery the way Santi is teasing him, pushing Frankie to his limits to see how much he can get away with before his friend breaks. 

“So like, are you guys, dating or something?” 

“What?! No! No- She’s like, my best friend. I just- She plays soccer, so I go run with her to help her train and stuff. It’s good cardio, anyways.” 

Frankie doesn’t mean to snap at Benny for his question. It’s a secondary response to the way his chest is tightening and heart is racing as the eyes of all his friends stay peeled to him, like a guilty suspect in a courtroom everyone is waiting to catch in the midst of their lie. 

“Running’s not the only kind of cardio he wishes he was doing with MacKenzie, huh Frankie?” 

The boys are too busy snickering at each other to realize that Frankie’s completely stopped in his tracks ahead of them, turning around with arms outstretched to greet Santi with a brute shove to the ground as they collide. 

“I said shut UP, Santi!”

Frankie doesn’t intend for it to draw as much attention as it does, how the way he’s practically screaming at his friend he’s pushed to the ground has garnered the attention of everyone else in his gym class.

“Jesus, Frankie, it was just a joke! Chill out!” 

Will and Benny help Santi off the rubber of the track, leaving him and Frankie in a silent stare down of flared nostrils and gritted teeth, bodies boiling with teenage testosterone. 

Despite his rage, Frankie has enough self control to keep from saying (or doing) anything else he’ll regret, forcing himself to take off running in a frustrated huff of silence, heart in his throat and fists clenched, leaving behind his group of friends.  

“Shit. Is he always like that when you talk about her?” Will asks, still slightly stunned by the altercation he’s just witnessed, considering Frankie’s usual calm and quiet demeanor. 

“Yup.” Santi replies, popping the “p” at the end of his answer, “Well, not always this bad, but still,  ya know?”  

“Why?” Benny chimes in, the three of them slowly beginning their trot back around the track, lengths behind their fuming friend. 

“‘Cause they’re like, secretly in love with each other. They say they’re just friends, but they act like they’re fucking married.” Santi pretends to gag as he forces his eyes to roll as far back in his head as they possibly can. “He’s been extra pissy because yesterday he found out this guy, Nick Walsh, who’s some senior on the boy’s soccer team, tried to ask her to Homecoming.” 

“Did she say yes?” 

“No! That’s the thing! I don’t know why he’s got his fucking granny panties in a knot about it. Whatever, man. Not my problem.” 

The Miller brothers exchange intrigued glances, wondering how much more they can pry out of Santi as they mope around the track, hoping they can at least make the second half of their two miles entertaining. 

“If he’s mad about it, why didn’t he just ask her?” Will shrugs, offering up what seems like a reasonable solution to his new friend’s problem. 

“Ask him, dude. I have no fucking clue. They’re going with the same group of friends, so they’re gonna spend the whole night together, anyways. Honestly, if you want my opinion, I think he knows he doesn’t have the balls to nut up and ask her himself ‘cause he’s worried she’s gonna say no.” 

Despite the 23 other kids in the class who are also being forced to run circles around the track, there’s only one who makes the three of them freeze as he passes by, feeling the hole he’s burning through the back of their heads. Santi knows he’s too loudmouthed for his own good, and that there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that Frankie didn’t make out what he had to say as he snuck up behind him. 

And he's right. Frankie hears every word.

If he wasn’t at school, he wouldn’t think twice about punching Santi so hard in the gut it would knock the wind right out of him. But right now, all he can do is keep running, faster and faster, one foot in front of the other. 

Maybe if he runs fast enough, no one will be able to see the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, or the disappointment that’s drained every ounce of color he’s got left in his face. 

Maybe if he runs fast enough, he can outrun the cold, hard truth of the way Santi’s words ring in his ears and put bricks in his chest. 

Maybe, just maybe, if he runs fast enough, somewhere along the worn high school track he’ll find the courage to prove himself wrong. 

You, Present 

You’re convinced he’s following you. He has to be. 

All you wanted to do this morning was to go for a run to clear your head, to blow off some steam after the shit show that had been yesterday’s first interaction with Frankie in the past three years. You were confined to your room for the better half of the day, your dad keeping Frankie hostage in your home far too long for your liking. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to deny a dying man whatever he wants, even if it’s Frankie Morales’s unwelcome presence in your living room. It also meant having to listen to your dad ramble about Frankie for the next several hours after he’d left, politely nodding at all the compliments and praise your father had to give him while your blood boiled in silence. 

Now, all you wanted to do was to run until your head was free of Frankie for just a little while.

It seemed like Frankie had other plans. 

You gave him the benefit of the doubt the first quarter mile, hell, you even tried to just play it off as unlucky timing at the half mile point. But now, you’re a mile into your run, turning on to Fuller Street with Frankie still trotting behind you. It’s clearly not an accident he’s chosen the same path for his morning jog. 

“There are other ways you can go run, you know.” You shout at Frankie without even turning your head over your shoulder, thinking that maybe he’s assumed you hadn’t noticed him and your not so subtle suggestion will get him to turn around. 

“It’s a free country. I can run where I want.” 

Part of you wishes you would have turned to look back at him so he could see the way your eyes met the back of your skull from rolling them so hard, but you keep your gaze glued to the pavement in front of you. You won’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence.  

“Can you please just go run somewhere else? I’m just trying to enjoy my morning and you’re not helping, Frankie.” 

“Not trying to bother you, just trying to run. I didn’t have anything to say until you started talking to me.” 

You know if you turned around right now, he’d have that stupid little smug grin hiding in the corner of his cheeks. A battle of wits is his favorite game to play. He’s learned how to strategize, to stay calm, cool and collected in the midst of your chaos, waiting until you hit the breaking point of his crazy you can’t bear to tolerate anymore. Your jaw tenses with the long exhale you take as you prepare to go head to head. 

“I wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t been following me the past mile.” 

“How do you know I’m following you?” 

“You’ve literally been running ten feet behind me for the past twelve minutes.” 

“Who says I wasn’t planning on running this way to begin with but you just got a head start?” 

“Jesus Christ, Frankie, please just go pick a different way to run.” 

“Who put you in charge of the running police? Do I have to sign a permit before I go jog now?” 

“Go. Run. Somewhere. Else.” 

“No. You don’t get to tell me where to run. This is the way I wanna go, so I’m gonna keep going until-” 

“No! I know you don’t want to go this way!” You’ve accepted defeat, swinging around to storm towards Frankie, stopping dead in his tracks as he realizes the ferocity you’re approaching him with, “I know for a fact you don’t wanna run this way. You know how I know? Because you hate running down Fuller Street. You would run five miles out of your way before you even considered running down this street on your own free will. There hasn’t been a single time we’ve ever run down this street where you haven’t complained the entire way because of how much you hate the hill at the end of the road before we turn onto Wilson way! That’s how I know, Frankie! So stop pretending like you just happened to choose the same way as me by accident, and just leave me alone! Ugh!” 

You’re positive there’s a trail of steam streaming behind you with the way you’re absolutely fuming, turning back around to take off as fast as your body will let you. You can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but straight ahead, too afraid that if you turn around, those stupid, sad brown eyes will make you feel guilty enough to give him the last word he doesn’t deserve. 

Your feet are flying so fast across the pavement, you’re convinced he’s given up, shocked into submission by your anger that he’ll at least let you finish the rest of your run in peace. Your eyes are still locked on the horizon ahead. It’s the arrogance of your self-reassurance that doesn’t even let you contemplate the thought that several yards behind you, Frankie lets out a quiet “fuck me” before letting his hands drop from their place on his hips to chase behind you at full speed. 

“What the fuck are you doing!?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” 

It’s a stupid question. It’s obvious Frankie has said a prayer to hope his knees don’t give out on him as he runs as fast as possible to try and catch up to you. The rhythmic thump of his sneakers pounding against the concrete catches your attention enough to see how quickly he’s gaining on you. It only makes you run faster. 

“Jesus- fuck this hill- MacKenzie, will you fucking slow down?” 

You won’t admit you’re probably just as exhausted as Frankie from the way you’ve been sprinting up the steep incline at the end of the road, but his exasperated huffs are enough to keep you pushing through the pain, mental and physical. 

“No. Run faster.” 

You’re hopeful it’s early enough that no one is awake to see the comedic game of cat and mouse you and Frankie are playing in the middle of the road, chasing each other like you’re on the playground in a childish round of tag. You’d never admit to his face that you know he’s stronger, even faster than you, but the grip he settles around your arm as he finally catches up to you lets you know you’ve lost. 

“Let go of me, Frankie!” 

If the street wasn’t already awake from your wild game of chase, your scream certainly would have gotten their attention. 

“Jesus Christ, MacKenzie, will you just let me talk to you for two fucking seconds?! Please, just- fuck- please just let me fucking talk to you, okay? Please.” 

Even if you wanted to keep running, there was no use. Truth be told, it wasn’t the grasp he had around your arm that was the thing keeping you from sprinting off into the distance. What had you frozen in place was that pathetic pout you knew was splayed across his face, burning a hole in the back of your head. What’s worse, was that you could feel it burning a hole through your chest, too. 

The all too familiar pain that came with holding onto the same, shriveled shred of hope that maybe this time, he’d prove you wrong. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t let you down. 

“Fine.” You barely mutter the word loud enough to hear as you turn around to face him, eyes still looking everywhere but directly at him. 

“I’m sorry, Kenz. I'm sorry, okay? I fucked up.” 

Somehow, his second apology stings worse than the first. It still doesn’t mean you won’t deny how much it hurts. 

“Yeah, no shit.” 

You let your gaze lift just enough to see the way he’s gnawing at his bottom lip, chewing at it like he’s trying to digest his own thoughts before they come out of his mouth. 

“What I said that night at Santi’s wedding, I just-” He pauses, knowing you can hear it clear as day in your head too.

“Fuck you, MacKenzie. Fuck you for ruining my life. It’ll be better off without you fucking in it.” 

“I- I- Fuck. I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I regret ever saying it. I think all the time about how much I regret it. I just, I was in a bad place.” 

You’re not sure what to say. Fuck, you’re not even sure what to feel. Part of you wants to scream at him, kick him in the crotch and berate him for how badly the past three years have hurt you. Part of you just wants to stand there and cry, to say nothing and let your tears flow and spill your emotions down your cheeks. Part of you wants to hug him, to believe him, to have him hold you so tightly against his chest that his apology seeps into your skin until you’ve forgiven him. 

But none of those parts are strong enough to win out alone. Instead, they’ve formed together to create a strange sort of storm that brews in your belly, swirling it so violently, it makes you want to vomit. 

“But you still said it, Frankie. You still said it. If my dad weren’t dying, would you even be here? Would you have ever apologized? Or are you just choosing to apologize now because it’s convenient and you feel like you have to?” 

It’s the first time you can bring yourself to look him in the face. You can see how his brain is churning with the same type of vicious waves that are in the pit of your stomach, drowning out the brown of his eyes. You both are lost in the midst of the storm, but you’ve got a lifeboat. He’s sinking below the thrashing tides, looking for you to let him board your ship. You won’t let him on unless he fights his way through the current to get to you. 

“I should have apologized a long time ago.” 

“Then why didn’t you?” 

“I don’t- I don’t know. I was scared you’d never forgive me.” 

You swear you feel the grip he still has on your forearm tighten just for a moment. Now that he has you, he’s too scared to let you go. 

“Just- Jesus- Just because you apologized doesn’t mean I have to forgive you now, Frankie.” 

“Will you ever?” 

“Ever, what?” 

“Forgive me?” 

Your brain wants to say no. God, with everything in you does it want to say no. But that same stupid pain in your chest that lives and dies by that stupid shred of hope you’ll always hold onto just won’t let you. 

“I don’t know. I- I don’t know, Frankie.” 

You can’t ignore the way he’s still holding your arm. The shred of hope doesn’t want him to let go, even when you scowl at the way his fingers wrap around your skin. You scowl because of how his touch burns your skin, the way it ignites a fire in your gut from how tenderly he touches you. It makes you scrunch your face in frustration and confusion, trying to block out all the times he’s touched you like this before, fingers grazing against your skin in a desperate plea for affection, not forgiveness. He’s holding onto your arm to see if you’ll let him in the lifeboat- if you’ll offer him a chance to save himself. 

“I get it. I’m sorry, Kenz. I hope you at least know I mean it.” 

“I do.” 

You’re not sure what makes you want to offer him a last chance at survival. You’ve been separated by different sides of the same storm for so long- You can’t attest to the way he’s had to fight through it to stay alive, but if it’s anything like the side of the squall you’ve been stuck on, there’s a strange relief in finding in finding someone who knows the hell you’ve faced to keep from drowning in the undertow. You can’t seem to bear letting him drown right in front of you without even trying to help. 

“I still hate you, ya know.” You sigh, a defiant cry to prove to him you’re not happy about the path you’ve chosen. 

“Yeah, that’s fair. I deserve that.” 

It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh in so long. Even though it’s a muffled huff, trying to hide behind the raise of his eyebrows and nod of his head at the ground, you know it’s there, in that same corner of his smirk he gets when he knows there’s no point in arguing with you- there’s no denying it’s there. 

There’s no denying it makes you do the same. 

“You gonna let me finish the rest of my run in peace, Morales?” 

“Yeah, I guess. Only ‘cause I still hate this fucking hill.” 

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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@kungfucapslock

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[megamindsecretlair]

Baby, I'm Yours

Pairing: Alex Cross x John Sampson x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, threesome, D/s lite, SMUT, PWP, PIV, oral (male receiving), hair pulling, praise kink, spanking, dirty talk, rough sex, orgasm denial, use of vibrator, rope, and blindfold, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. There is a tiny spoiler if you never read the books or watched the first episode.

Summary: You traveled often for work and it was rare to make it back home to D.C. But when you did, your first call was always to your very best friends, John Sampson and Alex Cross. Falling back into old routines, you reminisce over your college days. But, when things turn steamy, both men prove that they still have some tricks up their sleeves.

Word Count: 7,300k

AO3 Link

A/N: If you see this, no you didn't. Can you blame me????? The first five minutes broke me. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Your hand paused on the restaurant’s doors as you caught a glimpse of your two favorite guys in the entire world through the glass. They never aged a day, both always looking good as the day you met in college. They had a little seasoning now but just looking at them had you out of breath.

John had let his beard grow out, nice and thick. Alex wasn’t too far behind, with a sheen on his beard from the overhead lights that just made him look extra delicious. These men…

You sighed and opened the door and a cold blast of wind hit you in the face, whipping up your hair. You fought with stray hairs as the hostess greeted you and asked for your name. “I’m meeting up with friends, they’re over there,” you said, pointing to your men.

Two of MPD’s finest and they were clueless that you had even walked in. They were engaged in some kind of intense conversation, heads bent towards each other. The hostess took your coat but you only had eyes for them. This. This was what you needed.

On the rare occasion you swung back home, your first stop was always them. Always. 

Finished with the hostess, you made your way through the new and hip restaurant that opened up. It catered to the yuppie Georgetown crowd with its distressed white brick, low ceiling, and mason jar candles on every table. It was supposed to give off old money vibes while remaining current. It only came off pretentious.

“I seem to have found two handsome men who have no business being single at their big ages,” you said by way of announcement. 

John and Alex had their heads ducked close to each other, but each lifted their heads at your announcement. John broke into a wide grin, immediately standing up and giving you a hug. He smelled so good, like honey bourbon and woodsmoke. His thick arms wrapped around you, enveloping you in the way you secretly craved. He made you feel tiny and delicate. Soft.

Alex was slower to get up, that rare grin on his face transforming him into someone more boyish. He stood up and tapped John on the arm. “Let our girl go. Hogging her and shit, man,” he said. 

He pried John’s arms off of you and you giggled while Alex took his turn hugging you. He smelled equally as delicious with something more subtle, more clean. You inhaled deeply and felt your body relax in the presence of two such strong men. 

Alex held out your chair for you and you sat down first, because you knew they wouldn’t until you did. There was a glass of wine already waiting for you. You looked between the two, narrowing your eyes.

John hid his grin behind his hand but you turned your attention to Alex. He lifted an eyebrow at you and you tapped the side of the glass. You lifted it and took a tiny sip, sighing in pleasure at the taste.

“Alex ordered this for me,” you said.

John slapped the table and laughed, looking between the both of you. “You just as bad as him. How did you know?” He asked.

“You have a tell, Johnny,” you said. 

John groaned playfully and rolled his eyes. “Beautiful, gorgeous, love of my life. What must I do to get you to stop calling me that?” He asked. 

You giggled and shrugged your shoulders. “Give it up man, she just likes the way you respond when she does,” Alex said.

You rested your chin in your hand and looked at him. “Are you trying to shrink me, Sugar?” You asked.

John laughed while Alex’s shit eating grin fell from his face. “Alright now,” he said.

“Oh, he can dish it out but can’t take it, huh?” You asked and laughed. A waiter swung by and handed you the menu. You googled the menu before you arrived. You didn’t want to dilly dally. You were only in town for a few days and you knew they were in the middle of a tough case. You didn’t want to miss a second of tonight.

“Alright boys, you know the drill. Drop them drawers,” you said. 

Johnny and Alex laughed, shaking their heads at you. You were oh, so, very serious but it was time to eat first. You all ordered your respective dishes, getting right back into the swing of things as if you never left Washington D.C. 

Alex and John regaled you with all the little things you missed. Things Jannie and Damon had gotten up to. 

“Yeah, Damon got accepted to early Mozart,” Alex said, beaming with pride. His little cheeks puffed out and you fell even more madly in love with him. 

“Get out, really!” You said. “Go head, Damon. I know that was Maria’s doing. She always played so beautifully,” you said. 

Alex’s eyes dimmed but it didn’t snuff out. Not like before. You looked at John who gave you a subtle nod. You took a sip of wine to hide your own nod of acceptance. Good. John had your boy’s back, as always. 

“She really did. He plays just like her,” Alex said.

“I’m so glad. Let me know if there’s ever a recital. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’ll catch a quick flight or train right back here for that!” You said. 

Your food arrived and you thanked the waiter. Steam rose off your lamb covered in a light gravy drizzle, with mashed potatoes with chives, and a vegetable medley. It smelled delicious and the taste was even better. You took a bite, moaning at the taste.

“That never gets old,” John said with a chuckle. He opted for a good old fashioned steak, nearly mirroring Alex’s plate down to the sear marks. 

“Oh hush. Ya’ll act like ya’ll don’t enjoy food too. Like when we were shit faced at three am trying to look for a taco spot,” you said.

“Oh, see, why you gotta bring that up?” Alex groaned, cutting into his steak. 

You giggled, pointing your fork at him. “Because a certain someone thought it’d be a great idea to sing in the quad,” you said. 

“She is never going to let you live that down,” John said with another chuckle. You looked at him and savored that deep chuckle. He was so damn fine, so warm, so welcoming. Your panties had been damp since the moment you stepped into the restaurant, but the more you spent in their presence, the more your panties were soaked. 

“Says the man who ran naked through said quad on a dare?” You asked and swung your gaze to him. John grimaced and dug into his food, muttering under his breath.

“You know, she fails to realize that she’s the mastermind behind all of these little dares and mishaps. Was it not her idea to get shitfaced at 3am instead of studying?” Alex asked, bringing a piece of steak to his mouth. 

He wrapped his lips around the fork deliberately, methodically, and your eyes dropped to his lips as he chewed. He even licked the corner of his mouth. Bastard. You shifted in your seat while John leaned back in his.

“Yeaah, and wasn’t she also the same one who dared me to streak?” He asked. He gave you an assessing look. The type of look that could probably melt the North Pole. You blinked innocently at both of them. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I offer suggestions. You two are grown. Little ole me can’t change your minds,” you said, making your voice extra sugary sweet. You took a tiny sip of your wine and cut into your lamb once more.

The table was so quiet, other sounds of the restaurant started to filter in. The clash of silverware on plates, cups hitting the table, chatter. You looked back up to see twin expressions of “bullshit” stamped all over their faces. 

You burst into laughter, hiding your mouth behind your napkin lest they see any food. Your stomach cramped from laughing so hard, pushing the napkin into your mouth to muffle your sounds. 

“Ya’ll gon’ get us thrown outta this fancy place,” you said.

“Us?” John asked.

“Girl, you must have our roles reversed. You have always been the dangerous one here,” Alex said. He leveled you with a stare hot enough to make heat flash through your body. Your thighs tingled so you looked away, allowing him that small victory. But your eyes only caught on John’s, whose eyes were on fire. You were pretty sure he was undressing you with the way his eyes slowly drooped down to your generous cleavage. Your dress grew a little tighter.

Your lower belly flipped with desire and you struggled to swallow. Did they turn the temperature up in the restaurant? Good god, you were not going to survive the night. You took a deeper pull from your wine glass. 

“I am the innocent one here. An innocent bystander in your shenanigans. A passerby, if you will,” you said. 

John and Alex shared a look before erupting into laughter, shaking their heads and mumbling to each other about the crazy things you got into as a youth. You waved your napkin in their direction.

“I can’t stand ya’ll,” you said with a giggle. 

You updated them on your work and the last few places you visited. You sat back after your meal with a contented sigh and draped the napkin across your lap. “I hadn’t stayed long enough in the past few cities to even visit anywhere. I was in New York last week, didn’t even make it to the museum,” you said and pouted.

“Whaaat? You didn’t get to visit a museum you’ve been to at least a hundred times?” John asked. 

“Shut up,” you said, sticking your tongue out at him. He lifted an eyebrow and you schooled your features, giving him a sweet smile. “It’s still one of my favorite museums, so yes, I have the right to be bummed.” 

Alex chuckled. “Do you remember when you came up with an entire, elaborate plan to break into the museum just to see the tattoo exhibit?” Alex asked.

“Can you blame me? Tattoos are art,” you said. 

John huffed. “Tattoos are a statement. Nothing more, nothing less,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes and looked to Alex for help. “Will you get your boy?” You asked. 

Alex chuckled and waved off John. “We had some crazy times, didn’t we?” Alex asked looking between you and John.

“Crazy, amazing times,” John said, looking pointedly at you. You fingered the stem of your glass, trailing your nail against it. 

You grew unexpectedly shy, feeling as if this was somehow new and familiar all at once. Every time you all came together, it was like lightning in a bottle. You wanted to store it and stare at it, day after day. Night after night. Forever. Instead, you smirked at both of them. 

“We gotta create new memories too,” you said, finishing off your glass. 

“I like the sound of that. Sugar?” John asked, not even glancing at Alex. You did, however. You always worried what this was like for him. If he even enjoyed it. If it somehow hurt him. 

Alex glanced at you as well, giving you a wink. “I think our girl is used to getting what she wants. And she’s been mighty quick with the jabs tonight,” Alex said, lowering his voice. You gasped softly. You looked to John for help but he only smiled and leaned back in his seat.

“Quicker than the Greatest himself,” John said.

You giggled to hide the fact that you didn’t know what to fucking say. You always had some kind of lick back, but fuck, they were making you sweat tonight! You shifted in your seat and shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I get what I want? Don’t I deserve it?” You asked, turning doe eyes to John. 

He faltered, his lips parting a fraction. You blinked a few times and reached out to touch his forearm. “Haven’t I been good?” You asked. 

“And she fights dirty as hell,” John said, shaking his head and recovering. Alex’s chuckle brought your attention to him and he leaned forward, quirking an eyebrow at you. 

“She thinks you’re her ally,” Alex said.

“You can’t read minds, Dr. Cross,” you said, leaning forward to match his energy. 

Alex hummed and nodded his head. “You wanna test that? Want to see if John’s on your side or mine?” He asked. 

You looked back at John who had leaned forward as well. You stared into his big, warm brown eyes. His eyes narrowed, testing you. You tilted your head. He lifted an eyebrow. “Game on, Sugar,” you said to Johnny with a wink. 

He chuckled as Alex called for the check. The anticipation nearly killed you as the waiter approached. He told the waiter, no, you did not want dessert. You shrieked and Alex chuckled, requesting one slice of chocolate cake to go. You grinned with a giggle. You were going to need something after they wore you out!

“Always getting what she wants,” John said, shaking his head. 

“That’s what she thinks anyway,” Alex said. 

You glanced between them, at the shared looks and smirks. You gasped and pointed to both. “You’ve been plotting!” 

They laughed. John shook his head. “Why would we do that?” Alex asked with a wink. The waiter returned with Alex’s card and the chocolate cake in a small paper bag, cutting off your protests. 

You sputtered as the men stood up. John pulled out your chair while Alex grabbed your hand and helped you stand. John whistled low and hummed. “Missed that ass, for sure. You look beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” he said.

Your thighs practically burned at this point. Tingling pinpricks of desire. “You can make it up to me in about ten minutes,” you said.

Alex stepped closer to you and lifted your hand to his mouth. He kissed the inside of your wrist, sliding his rough hand against your softer one. “For someone so drop dead gorgeous and intelligent, you still don’t see the danger you’re in,” he said as softly as if reciting poetry. 

“Danger?” You said.

“Mhm, you sure you don’t have anywhere to be in the morning?” John asked. You looked over your shoulder. You forgot that quick how damn tall John was. You craned your neck as he tilted his head down at you. 

“Oh, we’re cocky tonight,” you said. 

John answered with a grin. He stepped back and allowed Alex to take the lead on escorting you out. Alex grabbed your coat from the hostess and helped you get in while John went ahead, grabbing his car from the valet. 

While you waited by the booth, you stood between both men not feeling an ounce of D.C. weather. Earlier, the wind about your ankles at the bottom of your dress was cold enough to make your teeth chatter. Now, there was just the inherent heat rolling off two powerful men. This was it. This was heaven.

You smirked at your own little joke while the valet brought John’s huge truck around. John helped you climb into the front seat while Alex took the back. “We couldn’t take Alex’s car…?” You pouted. It was damn hard to climb in heels, in the winter, after a six hour flight with a screaming baby in your ear. 

“I can’t fit in that matchbox car,” John said, pulling away from the restaurant. 

“Hey, easy,” Alex said. You giggled and turned around to look at him. 

“I happen to like your car,” you said. 

“Sucking up gets you no favors,” Alex said.

You gasped. “I was not sucking up!” You said, offended he would read you so well. You turned back around with a small huff and John laughed. 

“You would like his car. It’s low to the ground so your ass could fit,” he said. 

You shrieked again, turning wide eyes to Johnny. “You take that back,” you said.

“Is she…did she try to give me an order?” John asked, looking in the rearview mirror at Alex. Alex’s dark chuckle was downright nasty. Your belly clenched listening to it. 

“You know what, I think she did,” Alex said. They laughed and joked on the short ride to your hotel. Somehow this morphed to an understanding that this would always take place at your hotel. 

Alex had his kids and Nana Mama at the house and while John’s bed may have worked, you all agreed that you needed the biggest bed available at all times. Plus, at the hotel, you were guaranteed not to be interrupted. 

John slipped into an available parking spot and you led the way inside the upscale hotel. Alex whistled as he saw it and you waved him off. “Oh you know the company, looks matter,” you said, waving him off. 

At the elevator doors, the boys naturally took up their places on either side of you. You almost felt like royalty, getting escorted by bodyguards. Very sexy bodyguards. This was like every bodyguard romance you ever read and you grinned. 

An older couple joined you just as the gilded elevator doors opened. You pinched your lips but didn’t say anything. Fuuuuuck, you hoped their room was on the next floor or something. You wanted to tell them to catch the next one. But John put his hand on your lower back and pushed you inside when the doors opened.

You followed, if only to hurry everything along, and the couple entered behind you with a smile. Before the doors closed, a man in a hotel uniform entered carrying fresh towels. Good fucking grief. 

You shifted your weight to one of your heels, putting you closer to John. He wrapped his arm around your back, hand sliding down to your ass. You gasped, looking up at him and he licked his lips. “Behave,” he mouthed to you. 

You ran your tongue over your canine, ready to tell him about himself, when he squeezed your ass and you almost collapsed against him. The elevator rose and rose and rose while John fondled your ass. You were all the way in the back and everyone else faced forward. The gilded elevator was shiny enough to show parts of your reflection and you looked at John. Was he aware? Was he doing it on purpose? This seemed new, even for him. 

You gasped again when rough fingers grabbed your thigh through the slit in your dress. You turned to Alex who winked at you. The elevator stopped and the staff member got off to deliver the towels. 

The doors slid closed and then the ascent made you jerk. But the dueling hands on your body, pawing at you in public, made you tremble with need. You had other lovers, some you tended to hit up when you reached their city again, but there was no one like your two best men. Absolutely no one. They worked in tandem, pushing into your fleshy skin as if it were practiced.

Your clit throbbed, pressure building in your lower belly. You were going to faint, you just knew it. It took all of your concentration not to fall to your knees and suck them both off in the elevator. You knew a guy who could break into the hotel’s security cameras and delete the footage.

The elevator mercifully dinged again and the old couple waved and said goodbye as they got off. Without the cover, John and Alex’s hands disappeared to save your modesty. Fuck that. You were panting and shaky, beyond horny. 

“You do not play fair,” you said, breathless. 

“Never did,” John said as the elevator stopped on your floor. He held the door open for you and waited for you to pass him. Alex followed behind.

“Never will,” Alex said, placing his hand on your lower back and walking with you to your door. Johnny was almost like a real bodyguard, standing a little ways behind you since the hallway wasn’t that big. 

You rolled your eyes as you approached your door, opening it, and the men let you inside first. You turned on lights as you walked further in, immediately shucking off your heels. You moaned as your feet sank into the plush crimson carpet. 

The door closed and then some of the overhead lights winked out. You turned to watch your boys stalking towards you. Alex looked edible in his dark gray turtleneck and dark slacks. He rubbed his beard, smoothing it down as he gave you a full body scan. 

John had a long sleeve wine colored shirt paired with gray slacks. You watched as he rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms. He left the lamp light on, but crossed to your window and opened the curtains. 

City lights filtered in, turning the room from just another hotel room to something otherworldly. You were focused on John so you jumped when Alex’s hands rubbed your shoulders. “Relax, it’s just us,” he cooed in your ear. 

John smirked as he crossed the room and turned off the lamp light, bathing the room in a mix of reds, blues, and golds across your floor and the king sized bed. 

“That’s not why I’m jumpy,” you said, out of breath as if you ran a marathon. If they didn’t start soon, you were going to fucking lose it. 

“Where’s your bag?” John asked. 

“Why?” You shivered as Alex’s hands roamed your body, taking in your curves. 

“Damn girl, this body get thicker every time I see you,” he said. You nudged him with your elbow and laughed. 

John opened the closet door and pulled out your bag. “I know your nasty ass always comes…” he said and rummaged through your open suitcase. “Prepared.” He held up your travel vibrator and you giggled. 

“This sounds more like torture than a fun evening for me, boys,” you said. 

“Aww, you think this is for you,” Alex said. His fingers found your zipper and he pulled. The rip-like noise was loud in the suite. He pulled, exposing your back. His fingers followed the zipper, his finger moving down your spine. He hissed. “No bra, John.” 

John groaned, crossing the room to join you. He tugged at the front of your dress, pulling the straps down your arms. He yanked until your breasts popped out and he groaned. “So fucking beautiful,” he said.

You looked down to see him pitching an impressive tent. You reached out to cup him but John tsked at you and moved his hips away. You grunted, blinking through a foggy mind. “Aw come on. Don’t start with the teasing,” you said.

You wanted to cum, dammit. Alex unexpectedly grabbed your arms and drew it behind your back. You gasped, flush against his equally impressive bulge. You couldn’t help arching your back. He rested his head against yours, kissing your cheek. 

“We thought we’d try something a little different tonight. Trust us?” He asked. He nodded to John who tugged off the rest of your dress. Cold air and red light hit your skin and you moaned at the rough way John slipped off your dress. 

“You know I trust you,” you said. John tossed your dress against the couch on the far side of the suite. 

“You remember our safeword, gorgeous?” Alex asked. 

“Safeword?” You tried to look over your shoulder to Alex but he held you firm. Wrists clasped in his much larger hands. Fuck. You hadn’t needed a safeword with these two for quite some time. The sex was never boring, it just evolved into lots of touching and rubbing and slow lovemaking. This…this was definitely different.

John crossed the room once more, licking his lips as his eyes dipped to your nipples. He produced a rope and blindfold in his hand, your vibrator in the other. “What’s your safeword?” John asked. 

John handed the rope to Alex who tied it around your wrists. When he was done, you tested his knot skills. You couldn’t break free even if you really tried. Your thighs trembled. “L-Lemon,” you said.

“There’s our girl. She earned a kiss,” John said, leaning down to capture your lips with his. You moaned, suckling his lips and tasting the bourbon he had earlier. 

John pulled back with a wink and then handed the blindfold to Alex who promptly placed it over your eyes. You pouted, denied the pleasure of seeing them now. John moved away and he started moving in front of you, probably taking off his pants.

“Wait, so I don’t even get to see your dicks?” You asked. Maybe you needed to re-think this whole trust thing. They clearly didn’t know you at all. Best friends your ass. 

Alex swatted you so fast that it took a moment before the sting blossomed on your ass. “Oh, fuck,” you shook, knees buckling. He held you up with one arm around your middle. He pulled you against his still clothed body and then sunk his hand into your panties.

“Fuck, you been like this since the restaurant, haven’t you?” He asked.

“Y-Yes,” you moaned. He didn’t touch you. Instead, he swirled his finger through your damp hair, rubbing the outside of your slit, gathering up all the essence you leaked out. 

“Fuck, fuck,” you moaned, moving your hips. Trying to guide his hand where you wanted. 

John chuckled. “I got her,” he said. John snatched off your panties, yanking it down your legs, over your feet, before you had a chance to yelp. You were completely bare before them and you couldn’t see their reactions.

“Only say your safeword if you mean it,” Alex said. Damn mind reader. You huffed and deflated. 

“Look at that, she earned another kiss,” John said. He gripped your elbow and spun you around so Alex could grab your cheeks and kiss your socks off. He groaned, pushing his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues dueled before John tugged you away. You whimpered, leaning forward. 

“What do I have to do to earn another?” You asked. 

John laughed and kissed below your ear. “Be a good kitten,” he said. 

Your clit throbbed as John pushed you down onto the bed on your knees. Your ass hung in the air and John wasted no time giving you a few swats. You hissed after each one. He smacked your ass like a punching bag, hard as hell. Each bloom of heat went straight to your pussy, making you drip down your leg. 

You heard more rustling as Alex presumably took off his clothes as well. You missed the slow teases. The easy loving. But you could definitely get used to this. Used to the way they pushed you around. 

Soft buzzing clicked on and then John shoved it into your pussy, to the highest setting. “Oh shit!” You screamed out, falling flat on your face with no arms to support you. 

“Shh, shh, shh, you’re not allowed to cum yet,” John said. 

“Why?” You gasped, biting your bottom lip to keep from screaming out. Your body had been hyper aware all day, stuck in a state of lust as you pictured how tonight would go. The easy banter, the memories rushing to the forefront. The way you liked to give each other shit and tease. 

You barely focused during your earlier meeting, thoughts of playing hide the sausages on constant repeat in your mind. The multiple orgasms, that was your favorite part. So far, they held the reigning count for how many times you could come in one night with no break. And now….they said you couldn’t come? 

“And before your bratty ass thinks of cumming anyway, just know, you won’t like that punishment,” Alex said. “If you think John hits hard…”

You shivered and shook, your whole body bowing under the weight of that dangling thought. You were tempted to do it any fucking way. Who did they think they were? But it was really nice when they gave you your two rewards. You wanted more. Okay…fine…you’d play along. For now.

“Fuck,” you moaned as the vibrator moved as your pussy clenched around it. John kept a firm grip on it, not allowing it to go too deep inside. 

John leaned down and bit your ass. You moaned, kicking your feet. He stepped forward and trapped your feet between his legs. He bit you again. “Good kitten,” he purred. 

Once you were done fighting, he maneuvered you on the bed with ease. Until you straddled a corner of the bed. Alex stepped in front of you, pushing strands of hair from your face. You moaned, already smelling the husky scent of his heavy dick. 

It was cruel that you couldn’t see him. Couldn’t see how hard he was or if he was already leaking pre-cum. You moaned, pussy clenching around the toy once more. John chuckled cruelly behind you. “I don’t think we’re gonna have to wait that long, Sugar. She already did half the work for us,” he said.

“Naw, she can give us more. Open your mouth,” he commanded. 

You whimpered but complied, opening your mouth. You swore that you could already taste him on your tongue. You waited a beat, then two, before Alex chuckled and slapped your face with his dick.

You moaned, feeling the thick tip slap against your cheeks and bounce on your bottom lip. His pre-cum left a few wet spots around your mouth and you leaned forward. John grabbed your hips and pulled you back towards him.

You groaned, denied from both of them. “Let me cum,” you begged. Alex slapped your face with his dick. 

“I said mouth open,” he said.

You pouted but quickly opened your mouth again. John pulled at the vibrator, pushing it in and out of your dripping hole. You moaned, fucking back on it. John groaned, his free hand rubbing and squeezing your ass. 

Alex finally shoved his dick in your mouth, down further than where you would have started. Your jaw popped trying to fit all of him inside. Alex groaned, and gripped your hair to start fucking your mouth. 

The vibrator disappeared and John sank into your pussy on a long, sustained groan. Like he was coming home after being away at war for a year. They were somehow both out of sync and in it. Pulling and pushing you between them like you were a live finger trap for their dicks. 

John gripped your hips and fucked you, fingers digging into your skin, as he stretched you completely around his monster. You screamed around Alex’s dick, wishing more than anything that you could see. 

Male pleasure was its own aphrodisiac between the moans and the looks on their faces. When they threw their head back and lost themselves in you. Fuck, you never got used to that feeling of power. That feeling of sexiness that it brought. That you could tame not one but two powerful Black men. And they denied it to you. 

Alex was no better, gripping your hair and forcing you to take his dick as if John wasn’t there pulling you away. Saliva pooled on either side of your mouth, dripping down your chin. You moaned around his dick, feeling it rub against the inside of your cheek.

Pressure built in your lower belly. Your moans turned frantic, desperate, as you rode them both. As a unit, they both stopped pumping into you. 

“Nooo,” you moaned around Alex’s dick. John treated you to a smack on the ass. He gripped your hair out of Alex’s grasp and pulled you back to lift onto your knees. 

“You. Are. Not. In. Control. Right. Now,” John kissed into your neck and ended it with a lick. Alex grabbed your breasts in his hands, smashing them together so he could lick both of your nipples.

“Fuck,” you moaned. Alex stopped and then the bed dipped as Alex climbed on top, kneeling in front of you. “Now take his dick like a good kitten, and you’ll get to cum. Suck him real good. I’ve seen that nasty ass mouth suck him dry in five minutes flat. Can you beat that?” John asked, nibbling at your earlobe.

Um…what? Your mind was a blur. Empty. Gone. Deceased as Alex shoved his dick back into your mouth and fucked you like there hadn’t been a factory reset on your brain. Your instincts kicked in, aided by your fierce competitive side, as you busted out all of the tricks. It was no longer about playing their game. You just wanted to beat your personal best. Alex moaned and gripped your throat, alternately squeezing and letting go.

John kept his grip on your hair as he fucked into you, slamming your ass on his dick. Loud, lewd smacking and sucking filled the room. Filled with frantic, rushed groaning and grunting. Your moans were pornographic, sucking down Alex like your life depended on it. 

You used your tongue more, teasing the underside of the head while he stroked. “Fuck, fuck,” Alex moaned. 

“She squeezing the fuck outta my dick,” John moaned, slapping your ass just because. “You like taking dick, don’t you?” John asked.

“Mhmm,” you moaned. How long had it been? How long did you still have to go? You took a deep breath and trusted Alex to get deeper, down to his base. You sucked and Alex groaned, his grip on your throat getting tighter. 

“Hmm, fuck,” Alex moaned, cumming down your throat without a warning. 

“Swallow it down,” Alex cooed. “Swallow that shit.” 

You drank deeply, letting his thick cum slide down your throat with ease. Alex tapped your cheek, huffing with spent breaths. He eased out of you and let John push you forward.

“Good kitten, you earned another reward,” he said. He kept a hand on your back as he stroked into you. He pushed forward, making you take all of him, making you take him while he bottomed out and slammed his dick inside. 

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t-, I can’t hold–,” you whined.

“Yes, you can. You want a bigger reward?” John grunted.

“Yesss,” you moaned. 

“Hold on,” John said. “Fuck, good pussy. Good pussy. Good pussy,” he said, getting more and more breathless with each punishing stroke. He slammed into you one last time, unloading a thick load. He filled you to the brim. Tip throbbing against your core. 

You began to whine, limbs shaking. “You can cum, kitten,” John cooed.

You came instantly, flooded relief coursing through your veins as you added to the mix of juices spilling out of you. John fucked you through it, his dick still rock hard and lethal. He brushed against your sweet spot and you leaned forward, trying to get away.

“Mhmm, take that dick, baby. We’ve been dreaming ‘bout this ever since you said you were coming back to town. Dreaming of you taking us again and again and again,” Alex said, pushing you back into position. He kept his hands on your neck, keeping you in place.

“Fuhhh-” you cried, falling into another orgasm. One rolled right into the next one, your eyes rolling back into your head. Your body was slick with sweat. You shivered on John’s dick. Your wrists burned from trying to get loose. Trying to get away. 

You stopped convulsing on John’s dick and he sighed, slapping your ass while he slipped out of your pussy. You groaned, pushing his load out. “Fuck, fuck,” you moaned. 

John gave you one last smack and then grabbed you, yanking you to the edge of the bed and then flipped you over onto your back. You groaned. You were spent. You were done. There was no way you could survive more. 

“You came without permission. Which is okay, you won’t get punished for it. But now we’re going to play a game,” Alex said. The bed dipped under his weight as he got up from the bed. 

“How you feelin’, kitten?” John asked. 

You licked your lips. “Good,” you squeaked. 

Both men chuckled. Like it was sweet. You turned your head listening for any clues on what they were up to. 

“Are you sure?” Alex asked. They moved about the room, switching places, checking in on you as you recovered from a powerful orgasm. 

“Be honest,” John said.

“I’m sure. I can keep going. I like this,” you said. “I missed this.”

John came closer and pecked you on the lips. “So did we.” 

Alex was next to peck you on the lips and then they were gone again, leaving you on the bed alone. 

“We’re going to take turns back in that sweet pussy of yours. If you can guess correctly each time, you get to cum after. If not, we get to fill that pussy up before you get to cum,” Alex explained. 

“Both of you?” You asked. A little panicked. How could you hold off an orgasm with both of them using you until they both filled you? They said it was a set up but it didn’t sink in just how much. They were fucking you like they wanted to keep you. Like they wanted you to stay. You promised yourself that you couldn’t let them hold onto that dream.

You wanted both of them. Heaven knew you couldn’t choose. Both had qualities that you were drawn to. And while you had fun for these trysts, these passionate affairs, you knew that they would hate you eventually. That they would make you choose between them. Both were too proud and possessive to settle for anything less. 

“Both of us,” Alex confirmed. 

“Fuuuck,” you moaned, dropping your head to the bed. They chuckled, growing quiet. A pair of hands gripped you and shoved in. You were still a bit sensitive so you hissed, hands flexing, wishing you could reach out and grab them. 

The dick was huge, massive, splintering you but fuck if you could tell off hand who it belonged to. They were both big. A few more strokes before he stilled. “Uh-uh, Alex?” 

“Very good,” Alex said. He slipped out and then there was a beat before hands pushed your thighs apart. He entered you, stretching you very fucking well. To the point that you were seeing fireworks behind the blindfold. 

“J-John,” you moaned. 

“She thinks she knows us,” John cooed and leaned down to kiss you. You kissed him back with hungry fervor before he pulled away, pinching your nipple as he slipped out of you. You moaned as he stepped away.

Next, hands pushed down on either side of your waist and he entered you slowly, methodically. “Oh fuck,” you moaned. “John,” you cried.

He chuckled and rewarded you with another kiss. “She’s too good at this, Sugar,” John said. 

Alex chuckled as well as John slipped out. Your lips were fucking parched, tummy ready to cave in. You were so close to the brink again. Too close to tipping over. 

One entered you for a few strokes before stepping away and the other took over. They went back and forth, making you dizzy, unable to keep up with the differences between the both of them. “Fng, ung, ung,” you moaned, getting wetter by the second. 

“Making a sexy fucking mess,” Alex moaned while he was in you, balls deep, having you making incoherent sounds, singing the national anthem in latin for all you knew. 

He left and then it was back to the silence. Nothing but your squelching pussy accepting both of them. Both of them were a perfect fit. You were pretty sure that it was John who entered you this time, slamming into you a little rougher. Your legs shook pathetically. 

You whined and moaned, a cramp stabbing you in the lower belly from the overwhelming need to cum. To release this tension. This one slipped out and your pussy was still clenching, still seeking to be filled. 

You cried in frustration, tears leaking down the sides of your face. “Please,” you whispered.

Alex’s scent washed over you as he leaned down and gave you a sweet, scorching kiss. “Which one of us entered you first?” Alex asked against your lips.

“What?” You asked. Did he…did this motherfucker really think you remembered who entered you first?????

“Time’s ticking, kitten,” John asked, slapping his dick against your pussy. He rubbed his tip through your slick folds and you cried out, twisting, trying to get away from how good he felt. 

“I-I-.” Fuck, who had it been? You tried to think past the haze, past the fog, but you were coming up empty. Fuck it, you had a fifty-fifty chance of being right. “Alex. It was Alex,” you panted, but said it with enough authority to convince them you were right. As if you could will it.

They were silent for a moment. So long that you thought you got it wrong. Fuck, how were you going to survive? 

“Very good, baby,” Alex said. He kissed you once more, moaning around your lips. He pulled away and gently pushed you to the side, freeing your hands from your restraints. He rubbed feeling back into your arms with John’s assistance. You moaned and sighed as feeling returned to your limbs. He gripped your thighs and pulled your ass to the end of the bed.

He didn’t tease, thank god. He just fed you his dick and you moaned, loudly. John chuckled, dropping onto the bed with a huff and grabbing your left titty. He wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking, teasing, nibbling as Alex rocked into you quickly but softly. 

John played with your other nipple, sucking it into his mouth. “Can you take me too, kitten?” John asked, rubbing his beard against your skin. You moaned, reaching out to grip and tug at his hair. 

“Let me taste you,” you begged. 

“That’s our girl,” Alex cooed as John scooted up the bed to land next to your face. He leaned on his side while he pushed his dick through your lips, stroking in and out with more gentleness than he displayed all night. You stayed connected like that, being the bridge between them.

“I’m gonn-” you moaned around John’s dick as you came on Alex’s. His dick throbbed as you flooded his dick with your essence. He moaned, stroking until he followed right after. John followed shortly behind with a soft grunt, spilling down your throat. You drank him down as well, slurping up every single drop. 

The room filled with your combined heavy breathing. Both men slipped out of you and then the blindfold was lifted. You blinked into the dark room, the window all but a distant memory in your mind. 

The city was still so bright and vibrant, cars moving up and down the road. You looked between your sexy men, grinning up at them. You yawned and stretched, your arms popping from being held behind you for so long. 

“Come on, let’s give you your real reward in the bath,” John said.

“I can’t survive another one,” you said sleepily, leaning forward to drop your cheek against Alex’s stomach. He chuckled and lifted your chin, stealing a kiss. 

“Yes you can. Unless there’s a certain word you wanna say?” He asked.

You bit your lip as you looked at him and then over your shoulder at John. His smile grew and then you turned back to Alex. 

“Lead the way then,” you said with a put upon sigh. You all chuckled as you headed to the bathroom with your vibrator where they proceeded to let you cum a few more times. 

The end.

Ya'll know me by now, I can't help it! The Secret Alex Cross Files

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[vroom--vrooming]

Max Verstappen x Reader

Max crashes his ex's wedding but will he get the bride?

You never expected to see Max Verstappen again. Not like this. Not today. Not on your wedding day. Yet here he is, standing in the middle of the aisle, hair disheveled, still in his Red Bull Racing suit, looking like he just won the championship...again.

Because, of course, he had to make an entrance.

***

A couple of years ago, you and Max had been inseparable. The kind of couple that people whispered about in the paddock, that journalists wrote about, and fans shipped relentlessly. But it ended when Max, with a heavy heart, told you he wasn’t ready for marriage.

"I'm not that guy yet," he’d said one quiet evening in Monaco, his hands in his hair as if trying to figure out a way to keep you without breaking your heart. "You deserve someone who can give you everything you want, and I can't be that person right now."

You’d cried for weeks, tried to move on, but your heart stayed bruised for far longer than you cared to admit.

***

Now, two years later, you were marrying someone else—someone stable, predictable, and safe. Someone who wouldn’t put your heart in a spin with every career decision. Someone who wasn’t Max Verstappen.

But Max had been keeping tabs on you. Not obsessively, no. Just… occasionally checking your fan accounts (he definitely didn’t follow them under a burner account named SuperMax33). He told himself he was happy for you when he saw the proposal photos. He even congratulated himself on being mature when he heard about your wedding.

Then, on a random Thursday, he scrolled past a photo of you in your wedding dress on a fan account.

You. In white.

His heart stopped.

Max tried to ignore it, brushing it off as pre-race jitters. But it didn’t go away. Not during practice sessions. Not during qualifying. Not even after winning pole. He’d spent years convincing himself he made the right decision by letting you go. But now, staring at that photo, it hit him like a wall at Eau Rouge, he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

***

Race day came. Max was laser-focused on winning, though not for the reasons everyone thought. The lights went out, and he drove like a man possessed. Every lap, every corner, every pit stop—it was flawless. When he crossed the finish line, the roar of the crowd barely registered.

“Max Verstappen takes the win!” the commentator screamed, but Max was already planning his next move.

***

Three hours later, your ceremony was in full swing. You stood at the altar, your groom beaming at you, your heart pounding—though not entirely from joy. There was an ache, a nagging little voice that you couldn’t quiet.

"Do you, Y/N, take this man—"

The doors of the church slammed open with a deafening bang.

Every head turned.

You froze.

Max Verstappen strode in, sweaty, breathless, and still in his racing suit.

“Stop the wedding!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

Gasps filled the room. Your fiancé blinked at him in stunned disbelief. The priest clutched his book like Max was there to steal it.

"Max?!" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and disbelief.

He held up a finger, panting. "One sec. Had to run from the car and all those stairs."

You stared at him, speechless.

"I know this is crazy," Max began, catching his breath. "I know I'm insane for showing up like this. But I can’t let you do this. I can’t let you marry him."

Your fiancé shifted uncomfortably. “Who the hell are you?”

Max ignored him, his eyes fixed on you. “You look breathtaking, by the way. Absolutely stunning. But you already knew that.”

Your cheeks burned. The audacity.

“I screwed up, Y/N,” Max continued, stepping closer. “I was stupid, immature, scared—whatever you want to call it. I wasn’t ready back then. But I am now. And I can’t let you marry someone else knowing that I still love you.”

“Max—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted, raising a hand. “I’ve thought about this every day since we broke up. I’ve thought about how stupid I was to let you go. I’ve thought about the house we’d live in, the trips we’d take, the little Verstappens we’d raise—if they’re anything like me, I’m sorry in advance.”

Someone in the crowd snorted.

Your lips twitched. Damn him. Damn him for making you laugh at your own wedding.

“Do you know what I see when I think about the future?” Max asked, his voice softer now. “I see you. Always you. At every race, at every finish line. I see us, building a life together. And yeah, I might come home sweaty and exhausted half the time, but I’ll always come home to you.”

The silence was deafening.

“Don’t marry him,” Max said, his voice cracking. “Marry me. Right now. I mean, I’m already dressed for it.” He gestured at his racing suit.

You blinked at him, your heart hammering.

“Y/N,” your fiancé said, his voice tight, “is this a joke?”

You turned to Max, who looked at you with so much raw emotion it nearly broke you.

It wasn’t even a choice.

You dropped your bouquet and ran down the aisle, straight into his arms.

The room erupted in chaos—your mother fainted, your fiancé cursed, and Max just grinned like he’d won the championship all over again.

***

Twenty minutes later, you stood in front of the priest again, this time with Max by your side. He was still in his racing suit, grease smudges on his hands, but his eyes shone with unfiltered joy.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered as the priest declared you husband and wife.

When he kissed you, the room erupted in cheers, but somewhere the Red Bull PR department is having a heart attack.

But none of that mattered. You were finally where you were meant to be—with Max Verstappen, your husband, your champion.

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 2) Chapter Seventeen

Saiki Kusuo x Reader

Chapter Seventeen: Occult Love versus Sweet Loves

Summary: (Y/N) and Saiki get dragged back into the Occult Love.

            “Saiki, all of the clubs must submit their reports,” said a teacher, shaking his head in frustration as he caught Saiki in the hall.

            I’m not in any clubs, thought Saiki.

            “Don’t slack off in the Occult Club,” said the teacher.

            “Oh, I forgot about that club,” said (Y/N).

            “I thought only presidents and vice-presidents submit reports,” said Saiki, furrowing his brow.

            “You’re the present,” said the teacher, exasperated.

            “What?”

            “That’s what Toritsuka said,” said the teacher. “He said you became the president.

            That bastard.

            “Rude not to tell you,” said (Y/N).

            “Rude to do it,” grumbled Saiki.

            “That will be all for today.” The teacher walked away.

            “That idiot,” grumbled Saiki. “I’m going to turn him into a ghost.”

            “A perpetual president for the Occult Club,” giggled (Y/N).

            “Hey, Saiki, (Y/N)!” said Yumehara, walking up.

            “Oh, hi, Chiyo,” said (Y/N), smiling. They noticed the papers in Yumehara’s hands. “Are you the vice-president?”

            She nodded. “Thanks for helping. Toritsuka never shows up. You two should show up at the club more, too. It’s always just me and Arisu. The two of us wait every day.”

            “Every day?”

            She has an intense look on her face… thought (Y/N).

            “We’re left wondering whether you guys will show up,” said Yumehara. “Always waiting. Just the two of us. Why don’t you come? Why? Did you forget about us?”

            She sounds like a ghost…

            She sounds terrifying. “Alright, I got it.” Saiki didn’t want Yumehara’s ire if she was this intense already.

            “I’m sorry for missing so much!” said (Y/N) quickly.

            “You’re going to come?” The dark aura around Yumehara dissipated into a smile. “Yes!” The one I really want is Kaidou, but this is fine. Better than nothing!

            I want to go home.

            “This is our club room,” said Yumehara, leading them down the hall.

            “We have a club room?”

            “I thought our club room was the woods or haunted houses,” said (Y/N).

            “You’ll be surprised at the inside,” said Yumehara.

            Who knows what that means.

            “Here!” Yumehara threw open the door to reveal a room of cuteness rather than creepiness.

            It was pink, filled with stuffed animals, covered in soft rugs, and lit by sparkling lights.

            “Wow! Not scary at all!” said (Y/N), beaming.

            “Saiki, (L/N), it’s so nice to see you!” said a girl with barrettes in her hair.

            “Who is that?” said Saiki.

            “Hello, Makino!” said (Y/N), greeting her easily. True, she used to have her hair over her eyes and generally be more intimidating, but they recognized her.

            “Oh.”

            “I wanted to ask you about boys,” said Makino, looking at Yumehara.

            “Oh, are you making progress?” said Yumehara excitedly.

            “Ah.” That was the reason for the changes.

            “A little, but he’s ignoring my texts,” said Makino.

            “Let’s interview a boy and someone who likes girls today to see how they think!” said Yumehara, smirking.

            “She’s talking about us, isn’t she,” said (Y/N), sweat-dropping. Their panromantic-ness was biting them in the ass.

            “Yes,” said Saiki.

            “Saiki, (Y/N), will you please sit down?” said Yumehara, smiling at them “innocently.”

            “We should just finish the paperwork and go do homework—”

            “Sit down.” A dark aura radiated out from Yumehara.

            “We have a few minutes.” Saiki and (Y/N) sat.

            “The other day I saw Ayabe with a girl and texted him, ‘who is she?’ ” said Makino.

            “And he ignored you, I see,” said Yumehara. “I mean, you’re not even dating him, so…”

            “But we’ve been flirting,” said Makino.

            “Maybe you’re being too pushy?” said Yumehara. “Saiki, (Y/N), what do you think?”

            Saiki felt like drifting away into space. I couldn’t care less.

            “Maybe just ask him how his day was?” suggested (Y/N).

            “Hm…” Yumehara and Makino seemed dubious.

            “I know!” Yumehara clapped her hands together. “Let’s try the usual. We can ask Sayaka.” From below the table, Yumehara pulled out a cracked doll that looked like it had been buried and dug up about a hundred times.

            (Y/N) and Saiki watched in horror as Makino and Yumehara rolled out a Ouija board, took a crystal on a string, and dripped blood from their fingers into a bowl.

            “Let’s play, Sayaka,” said Yumehara.

            “Let’s have a chat, Sayaka,” said Makino. “Here’s some sweet red water.”

            “Nope,” said (Y/N), standing. They didn’t like the doll, and they didn’t like rituals.

            “This is something,” said Saiki. This was beyond what even Toritsuka had planned for the Occult Club.

            “Sayaka, will I hear back from Ayabe?” Makino held Sayaka, and the string from her mouth swung around. “She said yes!”

            “That’s great, Arisu!” said Yumehara. “What a relief.”

            “They’ve been absorbing the worse attributes of the other. They’re both boy-crazy and into the occult,” said Saiki, the realization sending a shiver of horror down his spine.

            “I’m out,” said (Y/N), going towards the door.

            “Right,” agreed Saiki.

            “Saiki, (Y/N), where are you going?” Yumehara spoke with a dark tone, glaring at the pair. “You can’t leave while Sayaka is here.”

            “Sayaka might curse you,” said Makino.

            “Seriously, who the hell is Sayaka?”

            “Kusuo, I’m scared,” whispered (Y/N).

            “I am, too,” admitted Saiki.

            “You should consult Sayaka, too!” said Makino and Yumehara, synchronized.

            “Maybe something about dating,” said Yumehara.

            “We want to hear about you two, too,” said Makino.

            “This is scary in a different way,” said Saiki.

            “I don’t think they’ll let us go,” said (Y/N), eyes wide.

            Yumehara grabbed Saiki, and Makino grabbed (Y/N). The pair made eye-contact and shivered. They were shoved into their chairs, and Makino and Yumehara grinned evilly.

            “So, tell us. You must have crushes on someone, right?” said Yumehara. “(Y/N), you’re always so tight-lipped.”

            “You must like someone!” said Makino.

            “I like to keep things close to myself,” said (Y/N), sweat-dropping.

            “Saiki, then. Tell us!” demanded Yumehara.

            “Stop trying to push this topic onto us,” said Saiki.

            I know! This is a good chance. I’ll find out what he thinks of Kokomi! thought Yumehara. “Fine, not a crush, but is there someone you think is really cute?”

            “I think all my friends are cute!” said (Y/N) with a wide smile.

            So wholesome, thought everyone present.

            “…Saiki?” said Yumehara with renewed fervor.

            “I care about more than that,” said Saiki. But (Y/N) is cute.

            “Really? Are you sure? Not even a girl whose name starts with ‘t’ and ends in ‘i’?” said Yumehara. Why can’t you figure out who I’m talking about?

            Your questioning just lacks any tact. Try harder. No, actually, don’t. Leave me alone.

            “They’re both hiding something!” declared Yumehara.

            “We have no choice,” said Makino.

            “We’ll ask Sayaka.” Yumehara had the wild look in her eyes again as she held Sayaka up and pendulum swung. “Who does Saiki like?”

            “The first syllable is ‘te!’ ” gasped Makino.

            “She’s moving it herself, isn’t she?” whispered (Y/N). Saiki nodded.

            We’ll get you to confess! Yumehara had a devious edge, that was for sure.

            “Next syllable is ‘ru,’ ” said Makino excitedly. “Teru? The vocalist?”

            “There’s more,” said Yumehara. “The next one is ‘ha.’ ”

            “You’re right!” gasped Makino. “Wait, how did you know?”

            “Let’s see what the last one is,” said Yumehara. She moved it towards “shi.”

            Saiki’s telekinesis dragged it to “n.”

            “Teruhan?” said Yumehara and Makino.

            “Who the hell is that?” said Yumehara.

            Yare yare. You might anger Sayaka. Saiki smirked slightly. If they wanted to play with his “feelings,” then he’d play, too.

            “Let’s try again,” said Yumehara, raising Sayaka.

            The lights turned out. (Y/N) grabbed Saiki’s sleeve, confident in that fact that he was behind this but surprised nonetheless.

            “I can’t see anything!” cried Yumehara.

            “Hey!” said Makino, reaching out.

            They bumped into each other, and Sayaka fell to the ground. She shattered into a million pieces, and the girls gasped.

            “Is this a sign?” Makino trembled.

            “It might be.” Yumehara shivered.

            Saiki shook the locker, and the two girls gasped in fear.

            “Sayaka is angry!” cried Yumehara. “Because I messed with the ritual…”

            “How could you?!” said Makino, almost afraid.

            “My face is shattered.” The pieces of Sayaka rose into the air, and Saiki spoke with a feminine voice through the doll. “Why did you do this to me?”

            “A-Arisu, did you say something?” said Yumehara slowly.

            “No…did you?” said Makino.

            “Then who’s that talking?” said Yumehara.

            “You’re so mean to me,” said “Sayaka.” “Don’t you like me?”

            “The doll’s not there!” cried Yumehara, looking at the ground where it had fallen. “Where is it?”

            “Die!” cried “Sayaka,” eyes glowing red.

            Yumehara and Makino screamed and ran for the door. Throwing it open, they raced out of there for their lives.

            The lights flicked on, and Saiki smirked as Sayaka hovered in the air. “That was me, of course.”

            (Y/N) breathed out a sigh of relief. “Still creepy.” They shivered.

            “Now we don’t have to deal with the Occult Club,” said Saiki, putting Sayaka down. It was repaired now. “We’re finally done.”

            (Y/N) followed Saiki to the door, paused, and frowned. They looked back at where the pendulum had landed on the Ouija board. They swallowed. “Uh…maybe not.”

            Saiki looked back and saw the pendulum pointing at the world “no.”

            “…Let’s leave.”

            “Yeah…”

l

            Yare yare. Saiki sighed and flopped down on his bed after dealing with his parents’ “who loves who more” competition all morning. He had even had to bring out the Love Meter to judge it, which had almost ended badly for him when they made it a competition of who loved him more. Saiki glanced up at the device, still floating and displaying a zero since no one was around. Why are some of my powers so weird?

            Ding!

            Saiki glanced at his phone, and a text message from “baker<3” popped up. ((Y/N) put their name in his phone like that. He was too lazy to change it back. Obviously. …And it was cute). Saiki smiled slightly upon seeing the message.

baker<3: I’ve packed up the picnic basket! Where are we going to see the cherry blossoms?

Mr. Coffee Jelly (Again, his name in (Y/N)’s phone. It was whatever. It totally didn't matter to him): I’ll come pick you up.

baker<3: Awesome! I’m so excited

            Dring!

            Saiki glanced at the Love Meter. It displayed the number “38095” now, as bright and intense as his parents’ love for one another. He looked back down at his phone. Back at the love meter.

            Oh, wow.

l

            “The cherry blossoms look so pretty,” said (Y/N), smiling as they sat down beside Saiki.

            They had sweets, sandwiches, and fruit laid out for a nice picnic with their boyfriend. To avoid being interrupted, Saiki had teleported them to another city to enjoy the cherry blossoms, that way they could just have a normal date together.

            “Thank you for making sure we had a spot and got some time together,” said (Y/N).

            “Of course,” said Saiki.

            (Y/N) lay back and popped a strawberry into their mouth. Saiki watched them smile, and the wind blew the pink petals up around them. Due to their pink pants and white sweater, they looked like a blossom themself. Saiki’s gaze softened, and a small smile appeared on his face. He really was so lucky for the moments he got with them.

            “Thank you for baking,” said Saiki, picking up a cookie.

            “I love doing it, and it makes you happy, so it’s a win-win,” said (Y/N), grinning at him.

            “You do a lot for me,” said Saiki, looking at them intently. “Thank you. I don’t deserve it.”

            “Kusuo, you do,” said (Y/N). They took his hand. “You help everyone around you, and you’re always so sweet to me.”

            “I’m sweet?” Saiki was doubtful. Even his own parents knew he could be cold.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N) honestly. They gestured to their earrings. “Do you need me to take these off to make sure you know I’m telling the truth?”

            “I believe you,” said Saiki, though the vulnerability exposing their thoughts with him would show made his heartbeat quicken in adoration.

            “Good, then stop thanking me and come and enjoy our date,” said (Y/N). “That’s all I need from you.”

            Saiki lay down next to them and looked up at the pink trees. He handed (Y/N) another strawberry and took another cookie for himself.

            (Y/N) snuggled closer to him, holding his hand tightly and leaning their head on his shoulder. These were the moments they loved the most. Any time with Saiki was wonderful, but these soft moments where they were just themselves, in love—

            Oh, god. (Y/N) froze for a moment. I love Kusuo? I love Kusuo. I love Kusuo!

            They were head-over-heels forever and ever in love with Saiki. They had always liked him, had come to care for him as more than a friend, and had realized the real word now—love. (Y/N) smiled. I love Kusuo.

            Gently, they caught a falling flower blossom. “Kusuo.” He looked at them, and (Y/N) sat up a little, turning to face him. Softly, they tucked the flower behind his ear.

            They grinned. “Adorable.” They loved him.

            Saiki smiled slightly as they looked at him. It was such a simple action, but the mere idea that they thought of him and were so gentle with him set his heart aflutter. He really didn’t deserve them. He watched (Y/N) pulled out their phone and turn their camera around for a selfie.

            They leaned in and kissed his cheek, the flower in his hair and the petals fluttering around them framing them. Saiki’s telekinesis held the petals in place as (Y/N) snapped the photo, eyes closed and lips on his cheek. Saiki smiled slightly just as the subtle ‘click’ of the camera went off.

            (Y/N) grinned as they looked at the photo, pocketed their phone, and lay back down next to him. “Thank you, Kusuo.”

            Saiki gazed at them as they looked back up at the pink trees. Saiki’s smile didn’t fade. They were the best thing that happened to them. Saiki loved them—

            He blinked.

            He loved them. Saiki loved (Y/N). The word hadn’t appeared, but the feeling—oh, the feeling was there. Saiki smiled slightly and held (Y/N)’s hand tighter.

            (Y/N) looked at him. “Kusuo?”

            “I’m glad I’m here with you, (Y/N).” He loved them.

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[ponchcronch]

I AM DRAWING THE MONKE, THIS NOT A DRILL, I AM DRAWING THE MONKE‼️‼️

[bugflies00]

its officially saturday in my timezone soo HAPPY NOVEMBER SIXTEENTH

[hawkinshorror94]

AN- I really enjoyed this request because I truly am. SIMP for dadstarion.

Hope

“You’ll be what drags him back to me.” Cazador murmurs examining your chained up form, his smooth hand picks up your chin so your eyes meet his “Especially with that second little flutter in your belly.” His mouth splits into a wide fanged smile, a predator’s smile. He pats your cheek softly before letting your chin fall back to your chest. His spawn had done well drugging you, keeping you complacent and quiet till he came and then he could finish the ritual. He’d decide what to do with you after.

“She’s pretty, Astarion.” Cazador laughed as his hand tightened in your hair to quell your squirming. This was your first day sober in the Szarr mansion and everything felt overwhelming, the smell of iron and rot hanging in the air like a noxious fog. The smell made your already queasy stomach lurch and the hand tightened in your hair didn’t help anything. 

Your eyes watched Astarion, begging but you weren’t sure for what. For him to save you, for him to stay put because this is exactly what Cazador had wanted all along. Seeing Astarion immobile on the stairs leading to the dungeon angered Cazador and he showed it kicking the back of your knees till you kneeled before him. 

“Tell him your little secret,” Cazador purred as he pressed the knife to your throat. “Maybe that will get this dance started.” When you didn’t speak he pressed the knife harder into your throat till you felt a trickle of blood running down your skin. “Tell him!” He roared and you flinched back from him, the knife digging more into your throat than before.

“I’m pregnant” You cried out and he finally threw you away from him because now Astarion was moving, straight to his death. You scramble away as Gale helps you to your wobbly legs. 

“Get to safety, we have this, we have him.” Gale assured as you wiped tears that streamed from your eyes as you nod making your way towards the stairs. You watch in fear as the battle plays out below you, fear clutching your heart and throat. You should be down there, but unarmed and with no armor, you’d be dead in minutes. So you have to have trust in your party. You have to have trust in him.

His fingers are covered in Cazador’s blood as he clutches your face, his fingers shaking from adrenaline, sadness, fear, and relief. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod. You would be okay now. Now that he was there “Is what he said true?” He whispers barely loud enough for you to hear and you nod again a whispered “yes” leaving your dry mouth. 

He presses his lips to your forehead and holds you there for a long time. Time slows around you and it’s just him. The feel of his cool lips on your warm forehead and then you feel a light tentative touch to your lower belly over your tunic. And you hear a shuddered gasp leave his lips and he finally moves to kiss you, the hand on your belly never moving. He had freedom now, he

had friends, he had you and now he had a baby on the way. The endless tortures and his own sins had accumulated to this, true happiness and peace. 

“Elaris, if you don’t stop running in my house.” You snatch the little girl up as she giggles squirming in your arms “I’m going to feed you to some awful beast in the Underdark.” She tickles the girl’s sides as she laughs.

“I hear dhampirs taste like ham.” Astarion chimes in from the kitchen table as he watches the exchange between mother and daughter. You look down at the wide eyed girl, your own eyes staring back at you.

“Papa, I don’t taste like ham.” The girl huffed and crossed her arms over her chest in your arms. You stifle your laughter as her little lip rolls out.

“Then perhaps chicken,” Astarion says standing from the table making his way over to you both. “Or maybe Rothe ribs. Or maybe goblin toes.” He continued and the girl squealed with laughter again as Astarion grabbed her from your arms. As if on cue, the new baby cried in from the bassinet in the sitting room. You start to make your way to get him and Astarion catches your wrist. 

“We’ll get baby Helios, won’t we?” He looked at the girl who was clutching his side. And she eagerly nodded. You can’t help but feel the corners of your mouth upturn into a smile.

“Thank you.” You say as he pulls you close to him and his daughter, the feel of love radiates around you like a blanket on a cold night. 

“No, thank you darling.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to yours.

(Much to Elaris’s disgust.)

[skitskatdacat63]

One makes him up, so the other can break him down.

This is a little terrifying but hello!! Posted my first fic on ao3!! I would've saved the illustrations for the fic's eyes only, but I'm too happy with them haha. Hope you'll still go on to read regardless!!

As always, my thoughts and progress, since I can't help myself:

I'm soooooo proud of these. I never ever really do dramatic lighting, so I'm really surprised that I pulled it off.

It's surreal actually posting this because for a while, I've thought about how if I ever post a fic, I'll have to make illustrations too because I can't do anything not full force. Look at me now! I'm shocked. Also didn't think I'd finish it tonight, but here it sits before you nevertheless(though as always, I'm writing this past my bedtime before class, time efficient as always.) So with that being said, here are some notes, though if I had known I'd be writing this so soon, I would've prepared more lol.

First of all, I hope it's clear both of these are Mark's perception. Gah, the fact that his face is the only one you can see clearly. The first is obviously him unwillingly fantasizing about what exactly went down last night.

Aghhhhh the difference in colors and settings of the two drawings is so important to me. The warmth and intimacy of the bed behind curtains in the first one, and the coldness and openess of the second. It's so clear Mark feels like he's been distanced, like he's been ousted. It's like he's been thrown outside on a cold winter's day, no longer able to feel the heat from the comfortable warm stove inside.

Mark was probably assigned to Seb bcs he has a much greater appreciation for the Spanish etiquette, which Seb has very little interest in. He'll abide by it when he absolutely has to. But he's just a very non-typical Emperor. People find it charming so it's not a public death sentence for him, but it is an issue. Thus, Mark is there to keep him in line. Though important to note that when Fernando, who has an equal if not greater respect for the showmanship of etiquette, realizes Mark is interested in that as well, they start warming up to each other.

The inherent disrespect of Fernando just. Throwing Seb's clothing onto the floor. Meanwhile he probably took like, 20 minutes folding his up(that's what Seb was gonna tell Mark at the end of the fic.) Borderline ripping off Seb's clothes only to edge him. Its not even like the ripping off the clothes is because of passion or anything, he's deliberately being an asshole. Don't worry Nandl, Seb's turned on by it!

So sorry to marknando fans if their dynamic feels like a complete 180 haha. Its not like I'm like, they actually hate each other!! It's just their relationship under completely different circumstances. They're like two dogs in a dog fight, they don't have any real reason to hate each other, but they're put against each other regardless. They don't understand their hatred, just know that they have it and that they're supposed to have it. The inherent hatred the mistress has for the spouse, and vice versa. If they actually were able to talk without barriers, they'd realize they actually get along pretty well. They kinda just hate each other because of their respective relationships to Seb. And then there's Seb who's mostly completely oblivious to his effect, though of course plays with it a bit.

Seb's marriage completely recontextualizes their relationship in Mark's eyes. Though there's something incredibly sado-masochistic about the way he can't blame Seb for it at all. He's a loyal dog after all. But when it was just them, he was obviously Seb's main companion and lover. Seb definitely slept with people on the side, but Mark brushed that off: 1. Bcs its very period typical. 2. He was the main, they were the side, what more needs to be said! But now *he's* the side piece, and is left wondering if their relationship was down to proximity alone. Not to pull a Mark and completely excuse Seb, but it's not. Just very different perceptions of love and relationships. And again, as I've mentioned before, he was raised to always be the most important person in the room, so he obviously has very different understandings, especially since he's always the center.

NANDL!!!!!! In my Habsburg book I've been reading lately, they randomly referred to one of them affectionately as "Nandl" and it's stuck in my head ever since. Can we start a movement to canonize that as an official Fernando nickname? I'm sooooo fond of it, I litrally ended the fic that way just so I could shoehorn that nickname in.

Speaking of the ending. It was really tough, I almost wanted to have Fernando burst in, looking for his ring, and then coming across whatever that is. But I didn't want to disrupt their moment anymore, it felt cruel. Though shame I couldn't mention that the reason why Seb's pants are nowhere to be found is because Fernando accidentally put them on and didn't realize till he was out of the room.

*I FORGOT TO POINT OUT ONE OF MY FAVORITE PARTS! Truly the danger of writing a post while falling asleep. There's something so incredibly funny to me the way they're talking so refined and then Seb just throws out: "that guy." It's a way to show his own disrespect of Fernando, not even using his name, implying he's just some guy(nur ein Kerl.) I laughed writing it cause it reminds me of the random dry humor anecdotes I've read lately.

[ancnymcnzjy]

Blabber

Synopsis: Y/n has been crushing on Jay since her junior year of high school. She made a promise to herself that this secret would never be revealed, but what happens when a school trip to the city leads to an indirect confession?

~ Where Heeseung catches y/n taking pictures of Jay when she should have been capturing the cityscape for her illustrative media assignment.

Word Count: 15,714

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ ˚ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆౨ৎ��⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆⭒˚｡

Getting on the train and following my best friend down the aisles, we try to find a seat quickly as the conductor announces that the doors will close in a few moments.

Nearing the end of the train car with no available seats, my best friend hurries up the stairs to see if she can spot any empty ones on the second floor. With me in tow, we occupy the last remaining seats across from each other.

I, too busy catching my breath, am unaware of who we sat by until my best friend kicks my shin rather too harshly to get my attention. She tilts her head in the direction of the two boys we are sitting with, one I sit diagonal from and the other right beside me.

It takes a moment for me to realize that we are sitting with Jay and Heeseung, who are two guys from our media class.

Diagonal from me is Jay, a guy I’ve liked for the past two years and who’s also someone my best friend has shamelessly pointed out. I gave her a playful glare for putting me in a flustered state because, moments after, Heeseung, who sat beside me, looked back and forth between my best friend and I with furrowed eyebrows.

Heeseung notices the light pink shade on my cheeks and looks at my best friend with a questioning gaze. She, in turn, gives him a cheeky smile followed by not-so-subtle glances at Jay and then at me. Unsure if Heeseung picked up on what my best friend was insinuating, I shake my head at her and focus my attention on the camera I brought with me.

After almost two hours on the train, we get off at the final stop. Jay, Heeseung, my best friend, and I decide to stick together since we’re meeting up with the rest of our class anyway.

While I look around to take in our surroundings, Jay makes sure he has the proper directions to the coffee shop our class chose as the destination.

I’m pulled out of my trance when Jay calls my name to ask if I’m ready to go. I turn my head to look at him before walking closer to our group of four and muttering a quiet apology. Jay gives me a small smile before leading us off the train platform and onto the city streets.

It was a short ten-minute walk from the train station to the small coffee shop located in the downtown area of the city. While Jay takes the lead in guiding us to our destination, I can’t help but admire the infrastructure everywhere I look. It’s not every day I go to the city. My best friend and I live in a suburban apartment outside of our university campus, but even then, it’s a huge contrast between the historic buildings and small businesses surrounding our town and the massive structures and well-known companies established on every other block of the city.

We stop for a moment to take pictures. As my best friend and Jay go off in their own directions to take their photographs, I stay behind in a similar area as Heeseung to take mine.

To my left, I take pictures of the harbor, as it creates the perfect composition for horizontal symmetry. Up ahead, I use the technique of framing with tall buildings occupying both sides of the street. On my right, I practice the rule of thirds on a random couple coming out of an ice cream shop.

As I cross the street to meet back up with my best friend, I see Jay a couple of meters away. He is taking pictures of a newly built law building.

He steps off to the side as he finishes, so he isn’t in the way of people passing by. I watch him examine the photos he just took, and I use that opportunity to capture candid portraits of him as well.

I go to take another photo when someone behind me suddenly speaks. “What are you doing?” I jump at the sound of Heeseung’s voice and spin on my heels to take a step back.

“Nothing, just taking pictures of the view,” I say, quickly glancing at him and then down at my camera. I look off in the direction of Jay to try and hide my blushing face from Heeseung, but I think he already saw it.

“Is Jay the view?” he teases me. I mutter a quiet “no,” unable to say anything else due to my embarrassment.

“How long?” he asks. I look at him, confused, and he only responds by tilting his head, his eyes gleaming with mischief, and a smirk slowly forming on his lips.

My eyes grow wide at the realization that he might know. “What are you talking about?” I feign innocence and focus my attention elsewhere but on him.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Heeseung chuckles before looking directly into my eyes.

I stay quiet, debating internally whether I should keep my unspoken promise of never revealing my feelings for Jay, or if I should break it by telling Heeseung in hopes of it going somewhere.

“I’m waiting,” I hear him whisper in my ear from behind me. I turn my head to look back at him just as he moves to step in front of me. I turn my body to follow his movements as I think of ways to explain what he already seems to know.

“I’ve liked Jay since our junior year of high school. He’s always been so great and passionate about the things he does. It's self-explanatory through his academics and his school-mandated extracurriculars. I’ve witnessed him receive multiple medals and achievement certificates, whether he’s seen me at the ceremonies or not.

It’s ironic, though. I used to hate how effortless he made everything seem.

There I was, staying up late each night practicing my speeches and presentations for a number of events, all while reviewing material from various subjects just to get at least a 90. Yet, he was there, getting near-perfect grades without having to study too much, all while keeping up with his school involvement and reputation.

It’s my competitive nature that didn’t like the idea of having someone better than me. My resentment toward him started in freshman year. Being in the same space as him since high school didn’t help. We had the same classes, we were in student council together, and if I wasn’t competing against him during a school event, I was hosting it.

When the summer before junior year came, I visited my family in Australia. I spent so much time traveling the continent with my older brother, Jake, that I didn’t put too much thought into Jay.

I guess the week before school started again, my resentment for him disappeared. I no longer saw him as a competitor I needed to beat, but rather someone I could look up to and praise for all his hard work and accomplishments. I vowed to myself that I’d be there to support him and cheer him on from the sidelines—it was the only logical response after undermining his abilities for the past two years.

It was three months into junior year when my feelings for Jay started developing. He and I attended our last student council meeting before winter break. The cabinet members hosted a gift exchange for everyone in the council, where they had pre-assigned us to get gifts for one person. I got assigned Jay, and unbeknownst to me until the day of, he, in turn, got assigned me.

I got him the electric guitar he had always talked about before the start of class, and he got me a gift basket filled with all my favorite things.

One of the items inside was a necklace I had been obsessed with for a couple of months.

When everyone was busy talking among themselves, Jay approached me. We made small talk until he mentioned how he filled up my gift basket with things he’d heard me talk about for the past couple of years.

I was about to ask him how he remembered everything I liked, but he was called back to help wrap up the council meeting.

This happened almost two years ago, but I still think about it quite often. I never got a proper answer, though, since I’ve been too scared to actually talk to him about it.” I say the last sentence with a huge sigh of relief. Although I’ve told my best friend about this crush of mine, I never told her the full story like I have with Heeseung just now.

“You want to know how I remembered all of your favorite things? It’s because you aren’t the only one with hidden feelings from the last few years.” I freeze when I recognize the voice behind me. With wide eyes, I look at Heeseung, who only winks at me before motioning with his hands to turn around and face the boy I just indirectly confessed to.

Slowly, I turn around to face Jay. I meet his eyes as the two of us stay silent for a few moments, both unsure of how to start the conversation.

I clear my throat before nervously fidgeting with my camera strap. “I didn’t plan on confessing anytime soon, but I guess the universe had other plans,” I say honestly with a cheesy smile. Jay laughs softly at my attempt to lighten the mood. He then shakes his head and tells me, “It’s okay. I’m glad it happened because it gives us a proper reason to talk about how we feel.” I nod at his words, saying nothing more as I process everything that’s happened so far.

“Do you want to ta-” Jay begins to say but is interrupted by a phone call from one of our other classmates. Jay looks at me, and I tell him to pick it up. He answers the call, and Jungwon on the other line informs him about a change of plans in their schedule, explaining that our class’s meeting place has been moved to the Great Hall, located on the other side of the city from where Jay and I currently stand. Jay mutters a quick reply and is about to hang up the phone when Jungwon also mentions that Heeseung and my best friend have already been informed and are on their way there. Jay and I glance at each other with curiosity before he tells Jungwon, “Thanks, we’ll be on our way.” Jay apologizes for the interruption, and I tell him it’s no problem.

Jay looks at our surroundings and then at me. “The Great Hall will be a thirty-minute walk from here. Do you want to take a cab instead?” I contemplate our options before deciding to walk.

Walking side by side, Jay takes the spot closest to the road. He leads us through the busy streets while pointing out the different buildings he recognizes. He encourages me to take a bunch of pictures, knowing how much I love photography.

At this point, I’m in awe. I’ve witnessed Jay being so caring for so many years. He often volunteers to hand out papers in class so our professor doesn’t have to, he asks our student council cabinet if they need help before our meetings since he knows how tight-packed their schedules are, and he’s even offered to stay behind after each school event to help clean up, as there are usually just seven people, including myself, on the event committee responsible for cleaning the activity space we rented.

Jay snaps me out of my trance when he asks, “What are you thinking about that’s got you so occupied?” I stop walking for a second, hesitating to give him an answer. Jay also stops and patiently waits to see what I’ll do next.

“I was thinking of you,” I reply quietly. I know I caught him off guard by how quickly he turns his head to look at me. He gives me a dimpled smile with his eyebrows raised and says, “Me? What do you mean?”

I hide my blushing cheeks with my hands and look off in the opposite direction. He laughs at my reaction, which only makes my cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink. “Hey, it’s okay,” he gently removes my hands from my face and motions for me to turn to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just found your mix of honesty and shyness cute,” Jay tells me, looking directly into my eyes. I stay quiet; it’s now the third time I’ve been left speechless today.

He catches me taking a quick glance at his hands, and in a swift motion, he offers his hand for me to hold. I look at him with astonishment in my eyes, and he just looks back at me with a wider smile than before.

I place my hand in his and lightly pull him to start walking again. I smile brightly in amusement and say, “You’re smooth.” He looks down at me and replies, “Only when I’m trying to impress you.” We glance at each other for a second before continuing our walk to the Great Hall.

It was quiet for a couple of minutes, both of us just savoring the feeling of being so close to one another.

“I want to talk about us,” Jay suddenly exclaims, and I hum in acknowledgment of his words.

“I was being serious back there when I said you weren’t the only one with feelings. I would love for you to be my girlfriend, and it doesn’t have to be right away if you aren’t ready for commitment yet.

We’re only in our first year of university, but I’ve been admiring you since our freshman year of high school. I always looked forward to coming to class, attending each student council meeting, and being involved in school events because it meant I got to see you.”

I’ve heard you talk about your dreams on multiple occasions, and I want that to be your priority because I know it means a lot not only to you but also to your family.

In fact, it means a lot to me too. I know how hard you work to achieve all your aspirations while being so involved at our school, and it’s not always easy to take on everything at once.

I’m incredibly proud of you for how much effort you put into making sure you’re one step closer to your dreams each day. I’m even more proud of you for keeping your head high and always looking ahead with positivity and a mindset focused on success.

If you’d let me, I’d like to pursue you. I want to prove that I’m not just a guy who wants to be with you, but someone who’s genuinely interested in getting to know you better. I’m someone who’s more than willing to experience the highs and lows of life with you, and I’m someone who’s willing to sacrifice my life just to save yours.

I want to make myself deserving of your “yes” because I think it’s more meaningful than just asking you to be my girlfriend.

I know how much you value your parents’ approval, and I’m aware that I’ll need to earn theirs too.

With my promise of never getting tired of fighting for the love I deeply want to cherish you with, I’ll challenge the strictness of your parents and endure all the “no’s” until I can convince enough of them to say “yes.”

So, what do you say… may I pursue you?”

In a matter of minutes, we were in front of the Great Hall. I lightly pull on Jay’s hand to make him stand in front of me. I put my hands on his shoulders and stand on my tiptoes just to whisper a simple “yes” in his ear.

As I lower myself back onto my feet, Jay pulls me in for a tight hug. He mutters, “Thank you,” repeatedly while lifting me off the ground and spinning us in circles.

I let out a breathy laugh just as I hear the sound of a camera click in the distance. Jay stops spinning and places me back on my feet. He smiles down at me before motioning for me to turn around.

Walking toward us were my best friend and Heeseung. While my best friend excitedly approached us with her DSLR camera strapped around her neck, Heeseung, on the other hand, wore a smug expression and carried his camera in his hand.

At the same time our best friends showed up, so did the rest of our classmates.

As I was busy chatting with Sunghoon, Ni-Ki, and Sunoo, Jay stole my attention to show me Heeseung’s camera. Displayed on the LCD screen was a candid picture of Jay and me from just moments ago.

I look up from the camera and search the crowd for Heeseung. I catch his eye and mouth a quick “thank you” to him. He nods in recognition and replies with a small smile.

Getting back on the train to head back to our university, our group of four remained sitting next to each other. However, this time, our seating arrangements were Jay and me on one side, and Heeseung and my best friend on the other.

With exhaustion slowly taking over my body, Jay takes my hand in his and lets me lean my head on his shoulder.

The two figures sitting in front of me don’t notice when I give them a quick glance. Too engrossed in their friendly competition of who took better photos, I smile at their antics and silently thank them under my breath for being major reasons why everything turned out perfect today.

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[passengerprincessblog]

“Intern” - Pt 2 Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: On race day, Y/N finds herself exhausted from a chaotic morning, only to be pulled back into Max’s orbit after his frustrating third-place finish. While delivering a post-race message to him, Y/N notices a crack in his usual arrogant demeanor, revealing a vulnerability she’s never seen before.

Race day is chaos—unrelenting, loud, and full of an energy I haven’t quite learned to navigate yet. From the moment I stepped into the garage that morning, Adam had me running papers, fetching forms, double-checking interviews, and troubleshooting issues I wasn’t even sure I understood. My head feels heavy, my feet ache, and the race hasn’t even started yet.

I manage to steal a moment to myself, slipping away from the suffocating frenzy of the garage to the hospitality area meant for the general public. The crowd is massive today, buzzing with excitement, and the energy radiates into the air like static. I weave through the sea of fans, my head down, my nerves steadying slightly as I finally grab a coffee.

It’s not great, a little too bitter, but it’s hot, and I savor the moment. Walking past the rows of motorhomes, I can’t help but admire the setups—the flags, the sleek exteriors, and the buzz of people that surround each team. It’s the kind of thing I used to dream about when watching F1 on TV, but living it is something else entirely.

“Where’d you get that?” a familiar voice calls out, pulling me from my thoughts.

I glance up to see Lando Norris striding toward me, a teasing smirk plastered across his face.

I smile back. “Out there,” I reply, motioning toward the exit where the fans and food vendors are.

He raises his eyebrows, looking mock-impressed. “Wow. You actually ventured all the way out there?” His voice is full of playful disbelief, and I can’t help but laugh softly.

“Shut up,” I say, my face heating up as I remember how much I’ve mentioned avoiding crowds before. It’s not that I hate them—I just don’t love being in the thick of things.

Lando chuckles, nudging my shoulder lightly. “No, seriously. I’m proud of you. Growth.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I reply, rolling my eyes at him.

For a moment, he watches me with an amused smile, but his expression softens slightly. “You seem busier than usual. Saw you running around the media pen yesterday—looked intense.”

I shrug, suddenly aware of how tired I must look. “Yeah, my boss has me helping out more this weekend,” I explain, glancing around at the bustling space. My eyes catch on a familiar figure a few meters away, and my stomach twists uncomfortably.

Max is standing with his arms crossed, looking my way. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something sharp in his gaze that makes my heart skip. Quickly, I look away, focusing back on Lando, who seems oblivious to the tension building in me.

“Well, don’t let them run you into the ground,” Lando says, his tone light but sincere. “You’ve got to survive the weekend, too, you know.”

“Yeah…” I mumble, glancing back toward Max, who’s still watching. His posture is stiff, his jaw tight. The sight alone sends my anxiety into overdrive. “I should probably get back,” I say abruptly, waving at Lando as I step away.

Back at the Red Bull motorhome, I barely make it down the hall before Adam steps out of his office, looking stressed.

“Where did you go? I tried to call you,” he asks, his tone sharp but not unkind.

“Oh, sorry. I just… I grabbed a coffee,” I stammer, holding up the now-empty cup as evidence.

Adam sighs, rubbing his temples. “Y/N, I need you to give this to Max,” he says, thrusting a paper into my hands before disappearing back into his office without further explanation.

I glance down at the paper and immediately feel my stomach twist. It’s a fine. For cursing during the media conference. Great. Of course, it had to be Max. And of course, I had to be the one to deliver it.

Bracing myself, I make my way toward Max’s driver’s room, the nerves growing with each step. I hate how easily he gets under my skin, how even the thought of facing him leaves my palms sweaty and my heart racing. I knock softly on the door, hoping he won’t hear it. Maybe I can just leave the paper and run.

“Come in,” his voice calls, smooth but laced with that familiar edge.

Pushing the door open, I peek inside to see him lounging on the couch, his phone in hand. He glances up when he sees me, and a smirk spreads across his face.

“Intern,” he says, his tone condescending, like he’s genuinely happy to see me—but only because he gets to torment me.

“Max,” I reply hesitantly, stepping inside. “Adam wanted me to give this to you.” I move toward the table near the door, intending to set the paper down and leave as quickly as possible.

“No, no,” he says, holding out his hand. “Give it to me.”

I hesitate for a moment, wanting to say no, but the look on his face tells me it would be pointless. Reluctantly, I walk over and hand him the paper. His eyes scan it, and he lets out an exaggerated scoff, tossing the paper onto the couch beside him.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not allowed to say ‘fuck’? I’m a fucking adult. I don’t need to be told what to do.”

I stand there awkwardly, unsure whether to respond or remain silent. His gaze flicks to me, and his expression hardens slightly.

“And you…” he says, his voice low and almost accusing. “You just love to piss me off, don’t you?”

I blink, taking an instinctive step back as he stands and starts walking toward me. “What?” I ask, confused and a little nervous.

“You heard me,” he says, his tone growing sharper. “You like to piss me off. Unless, of course, you’re just naturally this irritating.”

“I… I don’t mean to do anything but my job,” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady.

He scoffs, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah? Is flirting with Lando part of your job, intern?”

My face flushes immediately, a mix of anger and embarrassment bubbling up inside me. “What?” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You heard me,” he repeats, his tone darker now. “Don’t play dumb. I know you’re stupid, but you’re not that stupid.”

“I wasn’t flirting with anyone,” I snap back, my voice firm despite the anxiety building in my chest.

He looks taken aback for a moment, but his expression hardens again, his smirk twisting into something more dangerous. “Be careful, intern,” he says, stepping closer, his presence suffocating. “Do you want to lose your job?”

“What?” I stammer, my heart racing.

“I said,” he repeats slowly, each word deliberate, “do. you. want. to. lose. your. job?”

“No,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I look up at him. My stomach churns with anxiety, the weight of his gaze almost unbearable.

“Then don’t talk to Lando again,” he spits, his tone cold and final. “Now go do your job, intern.”

I don’t respond. My legs carry me out of the room before I can process what’s just happened, his words echoing in my ears. The door shuts behind me, but the tension doesn’t leave. My hands tremble as I clutch the empty coffee cup, my mind racing with a thousand questions—and not a single answer.

The garage feels heavy with a collective sense of disappointment as Max crosses the line in third place. The usual cheers and celebration feel muted, replaced by subdued claps and nods of acknowledgment. A podium is still a podium, but the energy here is clear: Max should be winning, not settling.

I lean against the wall, clutching my tablet, as I watch the screen replay the final laps. The tension in the air is palpable, and I can’t help but feel the unease trickle down to me. After all, when Max is in a bad mood, everyone in his orbit feels it. And guess who’s always closest to him lately? Me.

My phone buzzes in my hand, a text from Adam lighting up the screen.

Adam: Media after podium, please.

I let out a small groan and roll my eyes. Do I seriously have to deal with a pissed-off Max again?

Dragging myself to Adam’s office, I hesitate outside the door for a moment before poking my head in. “Adam?” I say quietly, not wanting to interrupt whatever he’s working on.

He’s standing by his desk, his phone in hand, furiously typing something. It takes him a second to realize I’m there, but when he looks up, his expression softens. “What’s up?” he asks, his tone gentle despite the stress hanging in the air.

I shift on my feet, feeling nervous as I try to phrase my thoughts carefully. “I just… I wanted to ask if maybe you needed help with other things, you know, besides media?” My voice is hesitant, unsure if I sound as desperate as I feel. “I just… I’m not sure it’s the best position for me,” I add, fidgeting with the tablet in my hands.

Adam furrows his brow, clearly confused. “Well, it’s only for this weekend, Y/N. Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no,” I lie quickly, shaking my head. “It’s fine. I just thought I’d offer to help with other stuff, that’s all.”

His expression softens again, and he gives me a small smile. “No, it’s okay. We’ll get through this weekend, but thank you for stepping up. I’ll be sure to remember how much you’ve helped.” He winks, and I can’t help but smile at the praise, a warm feeling bubbling in my chest despite my earlier frustration.

“Now,” he adds, gesturing toward the door, “you better go get Max for post-race.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply, my smile lingering as I walk out of his office. At least Adam appreciates me. That alone feels like a small victory.

But as I head down the hallway toward Max’s driver room, the warmth fades, replaced by the familiar knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. Dealing with Max again—especially when he’s in a bad mood—feels like walking into a storm without an umbrella. I stop outside his door, hesitating for just a moment before knocking lightly.

The door swings open almost immediately, and Max stands there, his expression dark and stormy. He looks pissed off, his blue eyes sharp and his jaw clenched tightly. The sight of him makes me take a small step back, caught off guard by the intensity of his glare.

“Sorry… I just wanted to know if you’re ready for post-race?” I ask softly, holding the papers and phone close to my chest like a shield.

Max sighs heavily, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Just… give me a minute,” he mumbles, his voice lacking its usual sharpness. He turns and walks back into the room, leaving the door open behind him.

I step inside hesitantly, placing the papers on a small table near the door. Something feels off. His usual arrogance, the cocky smirk he always wears like a badge, is gone. Instead, he seems… tired. Defeated, even. I glance at him as he sits down on the couch, his head tilted back, his hands rubbing his temples.

“Can you close the door?” he asks softly, his voice quieter than I’ve ever heard it.

I hesitate for a moment but eventually reach back to push the door closed, the click of the latch echoing in the quiet room. My chest feels tight as I watch him, unsure of what to do or say. The tension in the room feels suffocating, and for some reason, I feel compelled to ask him what’s wrong.

“Are… you okay?” I ask quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Max’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Then, slowly, he looks at me, his blue eyes clouded with something I can’t quite read. “I’m fine,” he says, but his tone is far from convincing.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding as I watch him. There’s something so uncharacteristic about him right now that it throws me off balance. Before I can say anything else, he shifts slightly, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Come here,” he says, his voice low but steady as he pats the empty spot on the couch beside him.

My body moves before my brain can catch up, and I find myself walking toward him. I sit down next to him, the air between us thick with unspoken words. For a moment, neither of us says anything, the silence stretching out like a taut wire.

Then, without warning, his hand reaches up to cup my face, pulling me closer. His lips crash onto mine, firm and demanding, and my mind goes blank. I freeze, caught off guard by the intensity of his kiss, his passion seeping into every inch of me.

For a moment, I lose myself in him, my body reacting instinctively as I kiss him back. His hand slides to the back of my neck, holding me in place as he deepens the kiss, his movements aggressive and desperate. It’s overwhelming, consuming, and I can feel the heat radiating off him like a furnace.

But then reality snaps back into place, and I pull away abruptly, my breath coming in short gasps as I stare at him in shock. “Max—” I start to say, but he cuts me off.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, his voice low and raw. His eyes are darker now, filled with something I can’t quite name. “Don’t say anything.”

Before I can process his words, his lips are back on mine, more insistent this time, his hands tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer. My thoughts are a blur, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to make sense of what’s happening. But all I can feel is him—his frustration, his passion, his overwhelming presence.

And I can’t seem to pull away.

——————————-

As always, thank you for reading and appreciating my works.😇

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Princess

[theagstd]

One Night Stand ; 40

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n

→ contains smut, fluff and angst

→ Chapter forty ; wc | 4.1k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

the visit to your parents is in less than a day and you're busy packing up a few clothes for the weekend trip to Toronto. you'd be lying if you're not nervous because you are. you can feel it in your bones and veins, the anxiety is truly not funny.

Jungkook had been busy with work, he'd been coming home late, very late in fact. he would text you to not stay up for him, to have your dinner take your pills and get to bed. after you spent the first night in his room, he never wanted you to leave, even if you tell him that it's okay, that you're comfortable in your room.

he was not having it, he needed to come back home and see you sleeping on his bed, under his covers. It's 11:15 PM, and he still hasn't come home. You decide to finish packing the last of your clothes before calling it a night, leaving a few items to tuck into your carry-on later. Your phone lights up with a message from your mother:

*"I can't wait to see you, Y/N!"*

Letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, you toss the phone aside and sit on the edge of the bed. Your hand instinctively rubs your growing bump as you gaze down at it, worry swirling in your mind—for yourself and the little one. Your parents are open-minded, but will they accept that you're carrying the child of a man they've never heard of? Especially when you were raised to believe that marriage should come before pregnancy.

They're not overly religious, but those fundamental beliefs were deeply instilled in you, and this was one of them. you don't want to disappoint them but you also can't change anything now. What's done is done and now you've accepted your life and the child you carry.

this is gonna be your life now. After zipping the suitcase closed, you push it aside, your mind feeling heavy yet resigned. You take the pills, washing them down with a glass of water, before turning off the lights and sliding beneath the duvet. The view from his windows catches your gaze, a mix of city lights and darkness, as your eyes grow heavy, you feel the bed dip.

you turn to look over your shoulder and see Jungkook gazing at you with his doe eyes. "did I disturb you?" he whispers and you shake your head as you carefully turn to face him. It's been four nights since you last saw him before drifting off to sleep, so the feeling of him beside you instead of an empty bed brings a sense of quiet relief.

he gets closer to you and pulls you towards him. You notice the exhaustion etched in his droopy eyes. "How was work today?" you ask softly, your fingers tracing gentle, imaginary circles on his chest. His gaze stays fixed on your face, filled with a longing that tugs at your heart. He's missed you all day, and seeing you asleep when he got home only deepened his frustration.

"Okay, stressed out," he finally replies with a heavy sigh. you figure that he doesn't really wanna talk about it so you decide not to press further. "are you sure that you're okay to fly tomorrow? We can go when you're free.." you say in a whisper. he's trapped in work and flying so far is only adding to his stress that you think he doesn't need.

he shakes his head and smiles softly. "Don't worry about it, baby." he speaks as he reaches out to take your hand in his, he missed the warmth of it so much. "I'm just waiting to escape this hellhole with you, even if it's just for a weekend," he says, his voice tired but soft. You nod with a small smile, liking the idea of spending time alone with him too, even though you're going to see your parents and not on some vacation.

"It'll be okay," you murmur, cupping his face as he leans in to kiss you gently. "How's... she doing today?" he asks, glancing at your bump. You grab his hand and place it there with a smile. "She's been kicking me all day, craving crackers and cheese. Quiet now, though—probably asleep." He chuckles, running his hand over your belly, his touch warm and careful.

He leans closer, nuzzling into your neck, and you let your fingers trail through his hair and down his stiff shoulders. "You're so tense," you say, frowning a little. "Want me to give you a massage?" "Don't worry about me, baby. I'm fine," he says, but you whine a little, determined to help him relax. He sighs, giving you a small grin as he finally gives in.

"Alright, just for a few minutes. do not want you to be tired" he whispers as he moves closer to you. "i haven't done anything Jungkook, come on turn around." he sleeps on his stomach as you sit up and turn to his side so you can give him some relief. he moans at the feeling of your fingers working down his neck and shoulders. he'd been sitting straight for hours as he worked on papers and typing. it feels so good when your fingers press against his skin, it's like magic.

his pain fades away the more you touch him and if he had the energy he would kiss you and thank you a hundred times but he's too tired to lift his finger. you smile at the sounds that leave his lips. As you continue your massage, your thoughts drift to him.

He does so much for you—not just tending to your basic needs but going out of his way to satisfy your cravings, no matter what they are. Even if he comes home late and you're already asleep, you always wake up to find the food you were craving, which makes your day. While Jungkook might not be actively engaging with the baby yet, the effort he puts into trying warms your heart and makes you genuinely happy.

you get so lost in your thoughts that you don't hear him call out your name. "Baby?" he repeats and you hum as a reply. "come here." He mumbles softly, eyes barely open as he struggles to stay awake. "Yes?" you prompt, leaning closer to his face. Without warning, he pulls you down for a quick peck, catching you off guard and making your heart flutter.

"What was that for?" you ask with a chuckle, the warmth of the moment lingers. His head drops back onto the pillow, and he lets out a contented groan as the tension in his muscles melts away. "Just... wanted to thank you before I fall asleep," he mumbles into the pillow. You snigger as you let your fingers run through his hair.

He loves loves loves it when you touch his hair. It scratches some part of his brain and spine, it sends chills down it and he smiles as he drifts off to sleep. You notice that he passed out so you lay back down beside him, you tuck your hand under your cheek and watch him. His soft cheek rests against the pillow, his lips slightly parted, with the tips of his hair brushing over his forehead. It's a sight that you enjoy the most.

While his neatly oiled and parted hair has a charm that steals your heart every morning, there's something entirely different about him like this. His loose hair and comfortable, homely attire are so peaceful and endearing, it's the Jungkook that you fell for. You don't realize when your eyes close while watching him, but it does and you find yourself waking up in the afternoon to an empty cold bed.

:

Jungkook wraps up his day early, delegating tasks to his team before leaving the building. The flight is at 8 PM, and he still needs to pack. He'd left for work earlier than usual, determined to clear his emails and meetings so that nothing would interrupt the weekend trip to your parent's place. Though he has no idea what to expect, he's made sure not to bring any of his workload along. Still, nerves simmer under the surface.

He's never met your parents before, though he's heard plenty about them from you—they seem warm and family-oriented. But to them, he's still a stranger. He's nothing more than someone in your life, without a defined title or role, and that thought terrifies him more than he's willing to admit. he'd always told you to stop overthinking and to calm down but right now, he needs to follow his own words yet he doesn't.

he picks up a few items on his way back home including the crackers that you spoke about late at night, even through his drowsiness, he mentally notes the little things you say, despite his heavy eyelids and the pull of sleep, his attention lingers on you, catching every word you say. he isn't greeted by you as he enters, he walks upstairs and passes by your room only to see you staring at your clothes that have been pressed by the staff.

he frowns and knocks on your door before he walks inside. you tear your gaze to look at him, he notices the worry on your face and feels his heart heavy. "nervous again?" He asks, and you nod, a pout forming on your lips. He understands how you feel—he's anxious too—but he knows nothing compares to the nerves you're dealing with.

After all, imagine meeting your parents after a few years, and then finding out you're pregnant with a child from a man they don't know, who isn't even married to you. Just thinking about it is enough to make anyone terrified. you exhale deeply as he holds your hand and looks at you. "I'm...nervous too. scared. but we both can face this, okay?"

he attempts to help you relax and it works for the time being after he places a kiss on your forehead. "gonna pack my stuff." "I'll help!" You follow him to his room to help him pack for the weekend. The two of you are quiet, your minds filled with unspoken words and thoughts, yet neither of you says a thing. Jungkook looked for a few hotels he could book for the nights, just in case your parents don't approve of him staying with you.

He doesn't mention it to you, though—he doesn't want to add to your worries. he didn't have much to pack so the both of you walked downstairs to have a snack before you left. he passed the crackers to you and a small smile lit up your face. He knows you're not going to speak with the excitement you usually have because your anxiety is taking over your mind, but that's okay. As long as you don't panic, he's fine.

Jungkook sips his latte while gently patting Bam's head. You're unusually quiet, and even though you know you can tell him anything, the words just don't come. You dip another cracker into the cream cheese and munch on it, having already eaten about 11, even though it hasn't been too long since lunch. You devour the crackers as if they might disappear. Jungkook notices but says nothing, holding back a smile as he watches you savor the snack.

He changes into a black Calvin Klein denim jacket and jeans, pairing them with a white T-shirt. You slip into a comfy, oversized sweater and sweatpants. Knowing how quickly you get cold—especially after the Paris flight—he grabs one of his thick jackets for you. He remembers how rude he was when you took your time coming downstairs earlier, and the memory makes him feel bad. This time, he waits patiently by your side so you both can walk down together.

"I'll carry that for you," he offers, nodding toward your hand luggage. You shake your head, insisting it's not heavy. He gives you a stern look, and you sigh, pouting as you hand it over to him. He ends up carrying both his backpack and your bowling bag without a second thought. The driver loads your luggage while Jungkook holds the door open for you, letting you take your time as you reach for his hand for support.

Your bump is big, and while this isn't the ideal time to travel, it feels like the best moment—things will only get harder in the later weeks. He sits beside you, close—too close—unlike last time. he watches you the whole ride, his eyes don't leave your figure, you're his view, and the streets aren't as beautiful as you.

the two of you remain silent, each lost in your thoughts, trying to calm your nerves. Jungkook worries about what your parents might think of him and if they'll push him away. Meanwhile, you're anxious about how they'll react when they see you pregnant on their doorstep. he wears a mask and advises you to wear one too.

The airport is a breeding ground for germs, and Jungkook doesn't want to risk you catching anything, especially with how easily you're susceptible. It's also another way to avoid the media, stopping them from taking any images without consent and invading your privacy. His hand holds yours gently as you walk side by side. Since you can't walk fast, he matches your pace, making sure you're comfortable.

Arriving about 30 minutes early, the lounge becomes the perfect spot to relax. You smile warmly at him when he chooses a quiet, private corner where there aren't many people. It gives you a chance to take off your mask and rest your swollen feet on the footrest. Jungkook brings you some desserts from the available selection. "what's all this?"

you ask. "desserts ma'am!" he says and sits in front of you as he takes your feet from the footrest and places them on his lap. "Jung-" "Have your desserts while I relieve this- swollen feet." he says and gestures to you to start eating. you smile at him. He's so caring and different from the last time you both were here at the airport.

he massages your feet gently, frowning at how big they are. it looks like someone blowing air into your feet, they look like balloons. " is this normal?" he asks while his fingers press and rub carefully. you nod with your mouth full of the sweet and tangy cherry tart. " this- looks really bad." he says worriedly. "it's fine, I've been dealing with this for months now." he hums.

"here." You hold out the tart to him, but he shakes his head, telling you he got them for you, so you should be the one to enjoy it. "One bite," he says, opening his mouth as you place the tart between his lips. He takes a bite, flakes of the pastry fall to his jacket and the jams stick to the corners of his lips. you push yourself forward, dusting off his black denim and wiping off the jam with your fingertips. "Nice, right?" you ask.

"Mm hmm," he mumbles, a small smile tugging at his lips. It's funny to him, thinking back to the last time you both were here. Back then, you didn't like the idea of him bringing you sweets, but you ate them anyway, making a big show of how delicious they were. Then you forced him to try them, despite his countless attempts to say no.

When he finally gave in and took a bite, he pretended it tasted awful, even though it didn't, just so you wouldn't get the chance to boast about it and inflate your ego. and here you both are, feeding each other tarts while he massages your feet only because you walked so far and he's worried for you. wiping off each other's faces and no rude comments and tone passed, just love and affection and more love. boarding into the flight was quite the hassle,

he made sure to let you walk inside carefully, and he requested the people behind him to wait until you got to your seat but some of them were arrogant and didn't want to show kindness, which angered him. you whispered a few, "It's okay" "I'm fine" as you pulled Jungkook to walk with you. "fuck them" he mumbles under his breath as he adjusts the seatbelt for you to fit your bump. "calm down babe." you say and somehow that immediately eases him.

"your frown lines are gonna sit forever. relax them." you say as your finger reaches to rub it away and he chuckles as he sits beside you. he asks you if you're okay from time to time and makes sure you're all comfortable. when the flight is about to take off, you don't panic. because Jungkook is holding your hand and rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand, soothing you and taking away all your thoughts and tension.

he's freely able to hold you and touch you anytime now so he doesn't hesitate as he holds you tight when the flight takes off. telling you it's alright, I'm here. you feel so loved when he does these little things like making sure to order the easy meal for you, some extra buns and bread so you can munch on something while you watch the romance movie on the screen. you feel like you're in one, after meeting Jungkook everything feels like a movie anyway, everything he says and does just makes you fall for him harder and harder.

"you need anything?" he asks when he sees you moving around. "I wanna pee.." You whisper as you struggle to unbuckle your seatbelt. Jungkook quickly unbuckles his own and leans over to help you. "Want me to come with you?" he asks softly. You shake your head, still holding his hand as you carefully get out of your seat. After taking care of what you need to do, you walk back to your seat, and Jungkook watches you the whole time.

He waits for you to return, and somehow, that simple gesture makes something stir in your stomach. He smiles at you and asks, "All good?" You nod, and he gently places his hand on your bump, giving it a soft rub. "I'm gonna rest for a while," you say, and Jungkook quickly lowers the seat, turning it into a bed. You lay down, letting out a yawn as you pull up the blanket they offered, settling in for some much-needed rest.

He gazes at you for a while, and you're used to it by now—him simply watching you. It makes you feel safe, knowing he's there, looking at you with such quiet attention. "Good night," you whisper. He notices you pulling the blanket higher, as if it's not warm enough, so he grabs the jacket he brought and gently drapes it over you.

You sigh in contentment at his gesture, pulling the jacket tighter around you. His scent surrounds you, and it lulls you into a peaceful sleep, your body relaxing fully as you drift off. He wakes you up to have something before taking your night pills, gently feeding you because you're too sleepy.

-

the flight journey was comfortable and easy for you, although running to the washroom was frustrating considering how you must walk a certain distance and also wait until the person walks out, everything else was quite okay. you ask him frequent questions and speak random stuff- "How long till we land?" "did you have your meal?" "I think the guy who went to the washroom before me had done too much of an explosion."

Jungkook was always there for you, even if he dozed off, your movements would wake him up just in case you needed something or needed relief for your feet. You slept through most of the time except for your meals, while Jungkook didn't allow himself even a moment for a full rest. he had so much running through his mind like what if your parents tell you to stay with them? What is he gonna do without you? He had never felt more anxious than he did now; even the silly comedy movie couldn't draw a laugh from him, not even a faint smile.

he kept looking at you from time to time, reaching to hold your hand, as if preparing himself for the possibility of having to part ways with you, even if only for the weekend. when it was time for landing, you were awake sipping on apple juice with your eyes closed while you listened to some music. Jungkook urges you to drink quickly so he can return the cup to the flight attendant.

He adjusts your seatbelt and pulls your seat upright, noticing your silence. You haven't been looking at him or asking questions, and he can tell you're feeling uneasy. Here you both are, in Canada—your homeland. "Hey, you alright?" he whispers, his voice soft. You nod and reach for his hand just as the announcement signals it's time to land. His grip on your palm is firm and reassuring. "Remember to breathe,"

he reminds you. Following his guidance, you focus on your breath until the plane touches down safely. he helped you adjust your clothes that had ridden up your chest, placed your leftover snacks into your bag and carried it for you.

he draped his coat over your shoulders, The temperature outside was warm as Jungkook stepped off the flight, but inside the airport, you still feel a lingering chill. Your eyes wander across the familiar surroundings, and a small smile forms on your lips. It's been three years since you moved to Korea, and while not much has changed here, the sight of it still stirs something deep within you. when everything was done, he got a taxi and helped you sit in the back seat,

asking you to tell the man your address. when it leaves your lips, you then know that this is real, this is so real and a sudden weight is added to your shoulders, you even feel it in your stomach. Jungkook feels it too, so this time, both of you gaze out the window, quietly taking in the scenery. There's a gentle space between you, not because of anything, but so you both can lose yourselves in your thoughts. As you approach the familiar streets and neighborhood, you notice the streetlights flickering on, casting a soft glow.

The place hasn't changed at all, and a warmth spreads through you as you take in the sight of the small, beige houses—so simple, yet so lovely. It fills your heart with a quiet comfort, the sense of home you thought you'd left behind. the car stops in front of the ash house with a garden where a swing sits. "are we here?"

Jungkook asks softly and you give him a short nod. he opens the door for you and takes your bag with his, thanking the cab driver for taking out the luggage and for the ride. you both stand in front of your house, the house you grew up in with your loving parents. you take a deep breath, trying to control the tears that threaten to leave as you glance down at your bump. Jungkook stands beside you, waiting for you to take the move.

He notices you gulping a couple of times, your features dull and your face looking ashen even under the bright moonlight. Gently, he takes your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he whispers, "Come on." You let out a sigh and nod quickly, moving towards the deep grey door. he helps you climb the three stairs until you both are standing in front of the door.

"I'm here, with you and for you. Don't worry, we're in this together." Jungkook whispers, his hand never leaving yours. Your fingers itch to press the doorbell, the tension thick in the air. The man beside you, trying to appear strong for your sake, hides his fear behind a composed exterior, wanting you to feel safe. But deep inside, as the seconds drag on, he's terrified.

The weight of the moment presses down on him, his heart racing with anxiety. your finger almost touches the white bell but the door opens before you can. there your mother stands before you, a smile on her face drains down as her gaze runs down your face to your bump and then to the man beside you. you gulp down the biggest stone in your throat, and Jungkook does too. "Mom-"

"What the hell?!!"

next chapter ⇢

[iiotic]

Hi

Maybe you could write Wriothesley x fem!reader moving in together, maybe some cute moment where Writhesley understands that all his dreams about a family come true

Sorry if it’s not for your liking

Have a great day!!!

"SO WHAT DO WE NAME THE CHILD?"

in which you and wriothesley, who just got married, moved in together. however wriothesley seems to think about other things..

before you read -> fluff, suggestive, fem reader, implied marriage, swearing, not proff read

word count: 0.7k

it's honestly so so cute!! I'm dying. thank you for your requests anon!! ((it took so long YET IT'S SO SHORT im dying) i cringed readinf thus ngl)

wriothesley never imagined himself starting a family, with all of his duties and the fact that he practically lived in the fortress of meropide it all seemed impossible. however that changed when he met you, you were so sweet and carrying he caught himself thinking about starting a family with you.

dreaming about moving in with you, having a sweet child running around; preferably a girl but the gender doesn't matter! most importantly being able to come home to you, the love of his life.

soon enough his dreams came true.

you were now standing in the local furniture store in fontaine with your soon to be husband, looking at different cabinets and kitchen appliances. it was truly a difficult decision to chose a furniture to your liking, whether it would be the colour or the right shape.

"what do you think about this one? it's vintage, cute." you said, pointing at a white, milky cabinet. the edges were quite sharp, dangerous even if you'd accidentally bumb into them.

"They're too light, they'd get dirty really quick" wriothesley said looking at the other side of the room. he quickly caught your attention pointing at another cabinet, seemingly a different style. modern, on the darker side, almost pure black.

"It's too dark, we wouldn't be able to see where it's dirty." you sighed, pinching your nose.

you were arguing over stupid cabinets for over 15 minutes. you were starting to get a headache and you didn't pick half of the furnitures for your kitchen yet.

"how about this one?" he asked, nudging you shoulder, nodding at a darkish cabinets with a milky white on top of them with soft edges. it wouldn't get dirty easily, it wasn't too light nor dark too. the perfect contrast. "the edges aren't sharp enough for the kid to bumb into it.." he added

yes.. this one was perfect

the day that you got the keys to your own house your imagonation was going wild. you'd run around the house with wriothesley on your side, telling him about your vision and him giving short remarks.

he felt like he was on cloud nine, he couldn't believe that it was actually happening.

unfortunately for you both, you had to assemble the furnitures alone. you agreed that the team that would do it for you was way overpriced.

this would lead to cute, domestic moments. whether someone messes up something or reading the instructions for over 10 minutes not understanding anything.

"wrio, do you know which screw is the right one for th.." you stopped in your tracks as you saw your husband all covered in water.

"do not laugh." he gritted through his teeth, but it was too late you already burst out laughing at the pure comedy scene in front of you.

wriothesley was assembling the sink in your bathroom, at least trying to. unfortunately he was no plumber nor did he wanted any help from you saying that "he was the man of the family" however that might sound.

you yelped as he pulled you to him, wetting your new white shirt in the process.

"i told you to not laugh." he said with such seriousness but his smile betrayed him. he softly pulled you in for a kiss to shut you up, his hands finding their way on your waist. you kissed back almost immediately, your hands tangling in his wet hair. fuck, he looked so attract with wet hair..

2 months later you finished putting the final touches to your new home. some pictures on the wall, plants in the corners and near the windows.

you were very satisfacted with your work in the kitchen, you organised everything with the help of your husband. everything was neat and pleasant for the eye.

the first night together in your new bedroom, in your new bed was rather.. passionate and left you fucked, with his seed inside you.

you cuddled wriothesley, hiding your face in his chest with your arms around his neck making yourself comfortable. you were sure that after tonight you will wake up sore.

wriothesley was so much satisfied and pleased with the fact that his dream of starting a family with the love of his life already succeded in 90 procent.

he purred slightly, nuzzling closer to you, whispering in your ear. "so, what do we name the child?"

© 2024 iiotic. — do not steal, translate or repost any of my content onto any other platform