#I’ve been having kind of a rough time lately

[zsbrainrot]

Something about drawing Kazurei being able to peacefully rest together just soothes my soul.

[waywardstation]

Almost back home!!! I’ve been away for two weeks and I haven’t had good internet connection. Looking forward to getting back home.

I’ve been quiet cause of it, so how about a shop/merch update!! The products from my shop have already gone through a round of proofs this last week after I placed the order (as some files had gotten mixed up). I’m hoping the products finish their manufacturing and are shipped to me within this next week or so!

I’ve ordered extras of everything to put up in the shop as “in stock” after I send out my preorders, also ordered a few items as samples. They had a higher MOQ (minimum order quantity) so if they turn out well, I’d like to do a giveaway with some of them!

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[stillcominback]

💖💖💖

[selfcarecap]

Practice [L.H]

pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.

warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting,  jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W

word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.

“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.

Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”

“Met him online.”

“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”

You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.

“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”

You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”

He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”

Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.

“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.

“Help you how?” He asks, smug.

It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.

“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”

“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”

Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”

You nod quickly, “For practice.”

“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.

A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.

Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.

“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?

“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.

“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”

“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.

“Oh,” you say.

“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.

Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”

“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.

He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.

You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”

“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head. 

Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides. 

You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.

With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.

“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.

Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.

You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.

“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.

“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.

“What now?” You ask. 

Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.

Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”

You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.

“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.

You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.

“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.

His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away. 

He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him. 

“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”

“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big. 

“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”

His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand. 

Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist. 

You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”

He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life. 

You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.

Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.

The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so. 

“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.

“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.

Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.

You’re wondering how much long–

“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.

You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.

Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.

He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.

Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.

“Spit.”

“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.

“Really?”

You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.

He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.

You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.

“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”

What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”

“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.

“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”

You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.

He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.

“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.

“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.

“Mhmm.”

He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.

Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close. 

You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly. 

“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself. 

He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck. 

You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders. 

Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue. 

It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.

Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.

He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.

With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.

“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”

You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”

Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”

You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.

Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.

“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.

Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”

You grin, “It was your plan.”

Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.

“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.

“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”

Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.

You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”

The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.

-

P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣

[cavillscurls]

Goodnight Kiss

joel miller x f!reader

Joel’s a good dad. You try to remind him.

warnings/tags: MDNI. pre/no-outbreak!joel miller. babysitter!reader. joel is in his 30s but sarah is a toddler because i said so. reader is in her last year of college; do with that what you will. sickening fluff. some borderline impure thoughts. self-depreciation. praise/comfort. intimacy. single girl dad!joel. overworked man finds solace in a sweet girl. not beta'd & hardly proofread. wc: 1.5k

main masterlist

His keys jingle in the door lock an hour after your shift was intended to end.

You don’t mind. You’re used to this routine by now. He still has the courtesy to text you that he’ll be running late, and he always pays a little extra for the additional hours. You’re only here for the summer, and every penny helps grow the savings fund you’ve been eagerly building before entering the less-than-reliable job market next year.

There is also the matter of your employer himself, and knowing that there are far more deplorable summer jobs than babysitting his sweet daughter.

You’re certain of it, in fact. Because you’ve never known a man quite like Joel Miller.

He’s the most hardworking person you’ve ever met, not only providing for his daughter and himself, but his brother. You’ve only seen Tommy a handful of times, and despite his flaws, Joel remains hopeful that his intervention will prompt a turnaround.

He signs Sarah up for anything and everything she’s willing to try, and somehow, finds a way to get her there on time. He fixes the panels on his elderly neighbor's roof before they’ve even noticed one is loose. Sometimes, he’ll snatch your keys off the counter when he gets home at a reasonable time and tells you to stay put while he fills up your tank because gas ain’t an expense you needa worry about right now.

He’s overworked, underpaid, and still finds it in himself to be kind.

You tuck your bookmark into the pages sprawled out across your lap, rising from the couch to greet him. Sarah’s been in bed since seven, and while Joel has made it clear you’re welcome to the fridge or the TV, you always hesitate to overstep.

You grab your tote off the armrest, slinging it over your shoulder and sliding your book inside before pattering towards the front hallway.

“Hey,” you call softly. He’s toeing off his boots and tossing his keys into the bowl by the door. He gives you a tired, apologetic smile.

“Hey,” he says, voice rough from a long day's work. The low vibration sends goosebumps up your arms which you nonchalantly rub away, hoping he won’t notice.

Joel Miller is also impeccably handsome. Another fine quality you’re certain he fails to notice.

“M’so sorry. I know it’s not fair of me to keep doin’ this to ya. The plumbing guys are not cooperatin’, so I—”

“Joel, it’s fine.” You take another step toward him, the golden porch light illuminating his features through the front window. You tilt your head at him, shrugging your shoulders. “I’ve got nowhere else to be. And besides, I love Sarah. She's such a good kid.”

You watch the rigidity in his shoulders fall, if only a little. He’s looking you over as if he’s the child, and he’s just been caught doing something he’s not supposed to. He shakes his head, muttering something discouraging under his breath. You have the great urge to soothe him.

The feeling is not new nor unfamiliar, but you’re tentative with the actions it threatens to elicit. A million grey lines begging to be crossed.

“Was hopin’ to be back in time to tuck her in,” he sighs, placing a hand on his hip while the other rubs at the tension in his brow. “Been too long since I have.”

You can’t help but smile. Not at the berating of himself or his clear display of stress, but because it’s endearing how much he cares. How blatant his love for his daughter is, whether she’s in the room or not.

“Well, I made sure to give her an extra kiss goodnight to make up for it.”

When he looks at you again, it’s with that same sort of sad, guilt-ridden smile. His appreciation for you cannot make up for the condemnation of himself, and while this would not be the first time Joel Miller confided in you about his shortcomings, you can sense tonight weighs heavier than most.

“Just feel like m’not… doin’ enough, I dunno.” His shoulders rise and fall defeatedly, and he’s shaking his head as if to further scold himself. “Worried she’s gonna grow up to resent me or somethin.’”

That strikes a nerve. You suffocate the strap of your bag with your grip, an attempt to redirect some of the outrage that fills you.

How could he even think such a thing? You know Joel’s a smart man, he can’t possibly be so blind to the things other children lack from their parents—none of which he ever falters on.

Your brows knit low over your eyes, serious. “She will not resent you, Joel. She adores you.” You make a point of emphasis; you want him to hear you, loud and clear. Know that there are things you see from the outside that he doesn’t, that a four-year-old may be far more perceptive than he gives her credit for.

“She talks about you all day,” you continue, and that seems to get his attention. Your heart aches at the tired, hopeful look in his eyes. You wish you could alleviate some of the exhaustion. “Everything we do is can’t wait to show Papa this, or we gotta tell Papa that.”

He chuckles a little, likely somewhat due to your poor impression of the toddler's voice, but you still aren’t convinced your words have sunk in.

You do something a bit uncharacteristic, then. You reach out, take another step forward, and place an honest hand on his forearm. The muscle below your touch is firm and warm, but his eyes that follow the path of your fingers are wildly more intense.

“You’re a good dad,” you tell him, voice dropping to a whisper. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”

He blinks, and when he peers at you now, there’s a glint of something different. You’ve seen it before maybe a handful of times, but it’s always fleeting. A shared understanding that whatever it is, there’s never been any time to acknowledge it.

But this time, it lingers. It festers between your bodies that, only now, do you notice how close they have drifted in the already cramped entryway. Who shifted first, or when, matters very little with Joel’s eyes on you, gentle and focused. You see them flicker, once to your hand that still rests upon his skin, another to your eyes, and then your lips. There’s the sound of crickets in the night. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and dust. The sight of his face, all sharp edges and scattered freckles and a furrowed brow, but his eyes. In all the time you’ve know him, they’ve always remained kind.

Your breath catches in your throat when he finally leans in.

He doesn’t reach for you. Instead, he flushes his chest against yours and lets the weight of his lips drive the kiss. Your fingers dig into his forearm for purchase. You can’t say you’re caught off guard, though pleasantly surprised.

There’s an innocence to it, tender and sweet. He lingers for a few long beats, never pushing further than the plush of his lips delicately upon yours, and then releases.

You don’t open your eyes right away, selfishly idling in the newfound thrill a beat longer. You can still taste him—coffee, mint, something sweet. He remains close; you still feel the brush of his lips, the tip of his nose bumping yours, the fanning of his breath.

“M’sorry…” he starts to mutter, and you can tell he’s retracting. Your eyes fly open and your grip on him tightens.

“No, don’t be.”

You have difficulty finding any trace of guilt in his expression, a fact that turns your stomach. An anxious thrill, the precipice of something.

His tongue traces his bottom lip as if he’s trying to salvage another drop of you. A somewhat devious grin breaks out at the corners.

“Had to put it somewhere, I guess.”

You’re all soft chuckles and sheepish smiles after that, and you feel your cheeks heat up with an array of excitement and nervousness. It was one thing to endure Joel Miller and his charm without the prospect of more, but now?

You aren’t sure how you can possibly contain yourself.

A million questions rattle through your mind as you stare at one another, but you notice the time on the wall clock behind him. You’re no stranger to the bags under his eyes, the paleness on his cheeks after a long day, so you set your selfishness aside. After all, you’ll be back in this very spot in a handful of hours.

You swallow hard, slowly releasing his forearm, though your palm aches to remain.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

He isn’t subtle about his hesitation. His eyes do an elongated once over of you before he shakes his head, and bites at his lower lip to prevent another laugh from escaping. You have half the mind to yank him back to you by the t-shirt, but digress when he steps around and opens the door for you.

You’re slow in your exit, doing a full one-eighty once your feet are planted on the porch to flash him one more dazzling smile.

“Goodnight, Joel.”

You see the dimples cave in his cheek before he quietly closes the door.

“Night, darlin’.”

You can’t seem to fall asleep fast enough.

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[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Pet Pastimes.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Dub/Con, Hybrid AU, Snow Leopard!Gojo, Puppy!Reader, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Degradation, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Reader Is Very Oblivious, and Manipulation.

“And you’re sure this is going to help?”

Satoru had been agitated when Suguru first brought you home – all dolled up in your collar, ecstatic to be led along the very same leash he always strained against. You were more obedient than most of the unruly mutts he knew, always happy enough to sit patiently and wait for your next command, but it would take more than a few weeks of passable behavior to convince Satoru dogs were anything but hyper and messy and so loud, he could hear their mindless barking from a mile away. The fact that you were supposedly here to ‘help’ him (Suguru called you a “service animal”, said most captive-born exotic hybrids had more domestic companions, but Satoru didn’t think you deserved such a pretentious title) didn’t make anything better. Satoru didn’t need help. What he needed was Suguru’s attention, but if he couldn’t have that, he’d settle for yours.

“Oh, I’m sure, puppy.” His fist tightened around the base of his cock. Suguru wasn’t home – just a quick errand, he’d claimed, it should only take a few minutes, as if that was an excuse for leaving his favorite pet and dutiful companion at home – and Satoru barely waited for the apartment door to lock before luring you into the kitchen and telling you to get on your knees while he leaned against the counter, Suguru’s forgotten phone well within reach. Currently, you were kneeling in front of him, your hands balled on your thighs and your gaze almost cross-eyed as you struggled to see what he was holding to your lips. He thought you would’ve had a little more experience, but your first owner must’ve been the sheltering type. Part of him was annoyed that he’d have to pick up the slack and teach you something so basic, but overall, he was pleased to know that it would be a long, long time before you got enough practice in to replace Satoru as Suguru’s favorite playmate. “I’ve just been feeling a little stressed out lately,” he said, drawing it out each word, giving your stupid canine brain time to process what he was saying. “This’ll really help me relax. You wanna help me out, right?”

Automatically, you nodded – your pressed frown instantly replaced with an eager smile. Your ears perked up, your concerns completely forgotten when presented with the chance to do what you’d been trained for. “Please, ‘toru,” you whined, and he fought the urge to cringe at the way Suguru’s nickname sounded coming out of your mouth. “Please let me help!”

It was almost cute, just how desperate you were to make him happy.

Almost.

He forced himself to smile back at you, using one hand to scratch at the base of your ears while the other jerked lazily over his cock. He was already hard, thankfully, and at the added stimulation, the sight of you practically drooling on yourself to get a taste of his cock, he felt himself twitch – thick pearls of arousal beginning to bead at the tip and drip onto your chin. You didn’t seem to care, to notice. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that his was the first cock you’d ever seen. “Can you open your mouth for me? Big n’ wide, just like I showed you.”

Like the trained dog you were, you obeyed immediately – letting your mouth fall open and looking up at him with the same bright, expectant eyes that must’ve won Suguru over, when he first picked you up. His hips wanted to buck forward, to bury him to the hilt in your newly available hole, but he held himself back, told himself he had to ease you into it no matter how little you’d done to earn his oh so generously given kindness. In the end, he settled for swiping his thumb over the flushed tip before resting it gingerly on your splayed-out tongue. It only took a second for you to stiffen, to jerk back. You didn’t cough or sputter, but your mouth snapped shut, your expression taking on a certain unease. Satoru fought the urge to bare his teeth. “Is something wrong, puppy?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” You closed your mouth, looking away. “It tasted weird. It was bitter, n’ stuff.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Look, if you still don’t think you can handle this, I can just tell Suguru you decided you’d rather go back to the pound—”

“Please don’t!” Your hands shot to his thighs. “I’ll be good, I promise, and I can’t— I don’t want to go back to the—”

“Then open your mouth.” After a second, you straightened, your lips parting and your jaw going slack. Still, he feigned reluctance, narrowing his eyes into a half-hearted glare as he raked his fingers through your hair and tugged half-heartedly, just hard enough to draw out a strained whimper. “And this time, don’t fuck everything up just because it ‘tastes weird’. If you do that again, I’ll have to tell Suguru you were being a bad dog.”

Your ears drooped, your tail falling slack against the tiled floor. Still, you managed not to jerk back as he slid his cock into your open mouth, slotting his tip against the velvety inside of your cheek. He could see you wince, your shoulders rising as you fought the urge to pull away, but even if you’d tried, the fingers knotted in your hair would’ve kept you rooted to the floor as he rolled his hips and thrust shallowly into the hollow of your cheek. Your tongue was smooth compared to his and wide compared to Suguru’s, and he could tell you were fighting not to move, not to explore the unknown factor trespassing inside of you. With a slight hum, he took pity on you – hazy lust having softened his previous annoyance. “It’s okay, puppy – you can lick, if you want to.” There was a moment of hesitation, then the broad flat against your tongue against the underside of his cock, tracing the shape of a prominent vein Suguru tended to favor, too. He shuddered, but told himself it was only out of reflex. You got lucky, that was all. “Mind your teeth. I’m takin’ you back to the shelter myself if you bite down.”

You tried to nod, but gave up quickly. Instead, your acknowledgment came in the form of your tongue curling around his tip, licking at the arousal dripping down his shaft, doing your best to lap at the shaft of his cock despite the awkward angle. Saliva and pre-cum pooled in the corners of your mouth, but you didn’t dare tilt your head back, didn’t dare swallow - keeping your mouth wide open as he drew back just far enough to pull out of your cheek and aim, instead, towards the back of your throat. You flinched, your dull nails scraping against his thighs, but it was easy to drown out the dull spark of pain as your tight throat fluttered and tightened around his cock, as the hand still wrapped around his base fell away in favor of joining its twin on the back of your skull and pulling you flush against his crotch. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from reacting – your body lurching against his legs as you gagged, as you tried to wretch yourself out of his hold, but he was too far gone to so much as consider letting you go. “Stupid mutt,” he mumbled, cupping the back of your skull while you fought not to suffocate on his length. “Don’t even know how to breathe right. Can’t do anything on your own, huh, can you?”

Your only response was a choked inhale, a string of incoherent gibberish half-muffled by his cock. Drool wasn’t the only thing dripping down your face, now – tears were rolling down your cheeks, fat and hot, drawing thick trails through the mess of cum and spit. Your tongue wasn’t moving, anymore, but he didn’t care – your mouth was warm and soft and fuckable enough to make up for your lack of skill. You were beating at his legs, too, your little hands made even smaller when compared to him, and for a second, he could be convinced that you were a little cute. Not cute enough to deserve as much of Suguru’s attention as you got, obviously, but cute.

His cock pulsed against the convulsing walls of your throat, and he cursed under his breath. You let out a pained whine as he drew back, pulling out of you entirely. Without his support, you threatened to buckle over, to collapse into yourself, but he held you up with one hand while the other pumped over his cock too quickly, too roughly not to tip him over the edge. It was all you could do to stare up at him with those big, watery eyes as he let out an airy moan, as he painted thick ropes of white across your messy face, as he left you stained and teary-eyed and covered with his cum.

You blinked once, then twice, but didn’t react, too out of it to complain or cry out or question why his lips quirked up into a small grin, his eyes taking on a dreamy, half-lidded sort of lull. “Good puppy,” he cooed, his heart skipping a beat as he heard your formerly stagnant tail begin to sweep lazily over the tile floor. He reached for Suguru’s phone as he went on, keeping his tone light, delicate. “Can you smile for me, too? A big, wide smile – to show how happy you are that you get to stay with me n’ Suguru.”

It took a second, but eventually, you managed a stilted nod. It was shaky, at first, more of a mangled frown than anything, but with a little love and patience, you found your footing, your lips splitting apart into a wide, beaming smile – as if you were the happiest, most pathetic puppy in the world.

God.

You were fucking adorable.

Your smile barely faltered as the camera shuttered, as Satoru’s hand fell back to your head and pet over your disheveled hair – a treat for his well-behaved mutt. He could feel you melting into his palm, but his eyes were fixed on his picture of your smiling face and, with a few taps of his thumb, Suguru’s shiny new lockscreen.

Maybe, once Suguru got a good look at your pretty face, he’d think twice before deciding to be such a neglectful owner again.

[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 intense, 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.

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing and saw that your requests were open so I thought I’d shoot this over. If you don’t vibe with it don’t worry about skipping it. I was wondering if I could request a James x reader where they are living together and definitely love each other but they’ve kind of slipped into a roommate phase. Like they’re just living around each other and reader starts feeling insecure and scared and doesn’t know how to get back into normalcy. Maybe a little angsty with some fluff at the end

Thanks lovely!

modern au

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.4k words

When James comes in the front door, his shoes squelch. You look him up and down, dripping wet and mud caked up to his knees. You wince. 

“Rough practice?” 

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” James says, dropping his bag by the door and heading for the kitchen. 

There’s an exhausted slump to his shoulders, and his shoes leave a muddy trail of footprints, and you hate to do it, but—

“Would you mind taking off your shoes?” 

“Oh.” James looks down. You see him follow the trail with his eyes. “Yeah, sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You hate yourself as soon as it’s out of your mouth, because that’s exactly the sort of thing you’d say if it wasn’t fine. And yeah, you’re a bit peeved that he’d track mud inside after you’d mopped the floors just yesterday, but you know he wasn’t thinking about it and you’d promised yourself just this morning that you were going to be nicer to him and now he’s sitting on the floor looking like his day is getting worse instead of better. 

You try again. 

“Um, I made dinner.” You step over him awkwardly, setting a hand on his head to help yourself. James doesn’t shrink from the touch, but he doesn’t lean into it like you could swear he used to either. The stove turns off like it’s relieved to do it, having idled for close to a half hour while you waited for James to get home. You wanted to try and eat together tonight; you used to do it all the time, but lately you’ve been having too many couch dinners by your lonesome. “Macaroni and cheese, is that alright?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You jolt a little at James’ hand on your back as he reaches around you for a bowl, and he looks at you, lips quirking like you’re funny. 

You find yourself smiling back by muscle memory, a reflex almost forgotten. It lifts your heart. 

“So, how was practice?” 

James glances up at you, then goes back to filling his bowl. “I’ve already told you,” he says. “Rough.” 

“Oh, right.” You huff out a little laugh. He passes you the spoon, and you take it without really looking at him. “Sorry.” 

His answering smile is weaker this time. More a press of his lips than anything. 

“Don’t be.” He kisses you on the cheek, then goes, pulling out his chair at the table. 

You take your seat, too. A lot of these base routines have begun to feel empty lately. They used to be an assurance for you, like if you always wore your same paths into the carpet you’d become so entrenched in this house, in James’ house, that neither he nor it could ever let you leave. You loved knowing that if he was back from his run when you woke up in the morning, there’d be a glass of orange juice waiting for you on the counter. That when the flowers on your kitchen table started to wilt you’d come home to a fresh bunch, and that if you called and told him you were having a bad day lunch from your favorite sandwich shop would miraculously show up at your work. Those things used to make your heart feel full to bursting, because they meant he was thinking of you. 

Now you’re not sure what they mean. They seem like things James does because he’s supposed to, like part of a script, a routine. Chores. 

As soon as he’s sat down, he’s digging into his dinner. James eats like a boy. Wolfing, like someone’s going to take it away from him. You hope it means he likes it. 

“What’d you do today, m’love?” he asks through a mouthful.

And see, he says things like that. Calls you his love, asks about your day. It’s all started to fall flat. You know he’ll take whatever answer you give him, because you’ve begun to suspect he doesn’t really care. 

“Nothing crazy,” you answer honestly. “Shayna’s baby came early, so I’m taking on a bit more at work until they can find someone to fill in for her. So that’s a bit stressful, but it’s not awful.” 

“Mm.” James nods, but doesn’t offer more than that. His mouth seems to be perpetually full. 

You fork a macaroni noodle, pretending you have more appetite than you do. Truthfully, you’ve felt weird and off and vaguely nauseous all day. 

Last night had been a bit of a breaking point for you. It came on rather suddenly. You’d gone to bed long after James, but you couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes from him, the way the moonlight snuck in through the slats in your blinds to fall across his sleeping face. He was so beautiful, and you loved him so much you didn’t know what to do with it all, and then you were crying. 

You’d wept silently, wishing James would wake up, but you were unwilling to rouse him and he wasn’t going to do it himself. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep with your pillowcase damp and cold under your cheek and woke to find James’ side of the bed empty as usual. Orange juice on the counter. 

“I was wondering if you might want to watch a film tonight,” you say lightly. “I saw they’ve put that sci-fi one you like back on Netflix.” 

“Ah, have they really?” James swallows, forks another bite. “Wish I could, but I’m supposed to meet everyone at Spoons in a few minutes here.” 

Oh. The realization hits you like a dull thud, smack in the center of your chest. He’s not eating quickly because he likes your food; it’s because he wants to leave. 

“Can’t you stay here?” Your voice is small. James looks at you like he’s not sure what to make of it. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” He offers you a smile. His fork clinks in the bottom of an empty bowl, and his chair screeches as it’s pushed back. James brushes his lips across your cheek as he goes by. “We’ll have to do it this weekend, though, definitely.” 

You know by now these sorts of promises aren’t meant to keep. They come written in disappearing ink.

He heads upstairs to change, and desperation grips you. It forgets he’ll be home later and puts you hot on his heels, your own dinner left on the table barely touched. 

“Jamie, wait.” He pauses with his shirt half off, looking over at you in the doorway of your bedroom. “Don’t you feel like we’ve not had much time together lately?” you ask. 

The plea is naked in your tone, and James’ eyes soften. He tugs his shirt off, straightens his glasses. “I haven’t had time for much of anything lately,” he says, shrugging good-naturedly. 

It’s true. He’s been busy. His new coach seems to think the team has nothing but time, and as captain James is expected to commit even more than most. When he’s not at training, he’s keeping fit on his own or running errands for his mum or sleeping it all off in your bed. 

“But you should come tonight,” James goes on brightly. “Dorcas and Marlene will be there, it’ll be fun.” 

He tosses his clothes in the laundry bin and makes his way over to the dresser. You cross your arms, then uncross them. Parse your words. “I don’t…I just feel like you hung out with your friends last night, you know?” 

“You could’ve come then, too,” he says, stepping into a pair of jeans. “They all love you, you know that.” 

“I don’t want to hang out with your friends.” It comes out sharper than you intend, though not less sharp than the look James gives you. He’s finished getting dressed but doesn’t make to leave. “That’s not what I mean. I like your friends, but it’s not…the same as spending time with you. It doesn’t count, for me.” Your voice softens on the last two words, knowing that for James, it might very well count. 

For him, you’ve gathered, social time is social time. So long as you’re there, he’ll feel just as connected to you as if you were curled up on the couch together having a private conversation. You wish your brain worked the same way, but it doesn’t. 

He’s looking at you with something like trepidation now, so you state it plainly. 

“I really miss you, Jamie.” A blockage rises in your throat. You swallow it back down. “I feel like…I don’t know what’s going on with us lately.” 

“We’re the same as we have been.” He looks confused, worse when your face pinches painfully. 

“And that’s all?” You try to blink them away, but tears burn in your eyes. “This is just what we do now?” 

“No.” James looks appalled, but you catch the quick glance he gives to the digital clock on his nightstand. “It’s only for now, just until the season’s over and Coach mellows out. Where’s this coming from?” 

You blink hard, angling your head away from him. “Nothing, sorry. I’m just being emotional.” Your breath scrapes on the way in. You pretend it doesn’t. “It’s okay if you have to go.” 

He shakes his head, and when you start back towards the stairs anyway, he says, “No, come on.” In a few long strides, he’s got your elbow. He tugs you gently back into the room. “Let’s sit down, okay? What’s going on?” 

“Sorry.” Your voice is pitchy and tight. You think you hear James inhale softly before he’s drawing you into a hug. It doesn’t feel quite like it used to, but it’s still warm, still nice. 

He sits you both down on the edge of your bed, arms still wrapped loosely around you. “What are you sorry for, baby?” 

“I was going to try not to make your life harder today,” you laugh wetly, pulling back from him to swipe under your eyes. 

“You don’t make my life harder,” James says, somewhere near to dismayed as he slides his hand to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t.” 

You give him a look meant to say, Oh, come on, but you’re not sure how it comes off with your face blotchy and snot starting to run from your nose. You take in a big breath, trying to calm yourself. 

“I think I’ve made it harder more than I’ve made it easier lately,” you admit, looking at your bedcover and also at nothing at all. “I didn’t even really realize until recently, but I’ve just felt so…disconnected from you lately. It’s like even when you’re here, I’m just around you and not with you, and—” Your voice catches, and you inhale again. “And I know you’re really busy, but I’m just trying to find ways to fix it.” 

James’ hand drops from your shoulder, into his lap, and you lift your gaze. He looks crestfallen. “What do you want me to do?” he asks quietly, his own voice starting to sound raw. “I can’t control these things. And we live together, I see you all the time. It doesn’t seem fair to ask me not to see my mates.” 

“I’m not asking you to do that.” You’re horrified. “But that’s just it, Jamie, it’s like we only live together anymore. Saying hi when you come in, waving when you go back out, those don’t count as quality time for me. And I wish I could get the same feelings from being in a big group that you do, but I can’t.” 

James looks at you helplessly. You shrug, just as powerless. 

“I know it’s not your fault,” you tell him, and a tear drips off your chin. “I don’t know what to do, either. I just want you to know that I’m trying, okay?” 

James nods for a minute. Thoughtful, heartbroken. He lets out a big breath. Your arms come around each other at almost the same time, so in sync you can’t be sure who reaches for the other first. You’re trying not to get snot on his fresh shirt, but he palms the back of your head, pressing your face to his shoulder. 

“Okay,” he says quietly. “You’re right, we should both be trying more. I think I’ve let myself get so overwhelmed that I’m not…almost not even thinking throughout the day, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with all of this by yourself.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, and a little laugh rumbles through James’ chest. He hugs you tighter. 

“It is a little bit, though, isn’t it? I haven’t been paying attention. But okay, let’s make a plan for now.” His hand splays out between your shoulder blades, and you clutch at the material of his shirt, both of you wordlessly trying to get closer as if you can make up for lost time. “Come with me tonight, please.” You go still, but James goes on, “I know it’s not a solution, but I can’t back out and I’d really feel so much better if you were there. Please, angel. And tomorrow, we’ll stay in and watch something. Not a film only I like,” he gives your back a teasing little squeeze, “but something we can both get into. Or we can just talk, or play a game, I don’t care. Tomorrow is our night, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you sniff, nodding and pulling away slightly so you can wipe your face. James joins in, pinching your nose clean for you and wiping the snot on his jeans carelessly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll try to clear my busy schedule.” 

He smiles. It’s like the sun beaming through clouds. “I’d appreciate that. Really hard to get ahold of you these days.” You let out a little laugh, and his grin spreads. “Good, so that’s for now, and at training on Friday I’m going to talk to Coach about cutting down on our hours.” 

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “Jamie, you don’t have to—” 

“I do,” he says. “I’ve been a wuss about it, but everyone on the team is miffed and it’s really my job to handle it. He doesn’t know everything yet, so I can at least give him some advice about how we operate best.” 

James palms the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and meeting you halfway. His forehead presses against yours. 

“I’m really glad you said something. Thanks for being the smart one, as usual.” Your smile is small at first, but James nudges his nose against yours until it blooms in full. “We’re gonna make it better, okay?” 

You swallow thickly. “Okay. Thanks, Jamie.” 

“Don’t thank me.” His voice takes on a tender quality, and you push your forehead into his. He palms your cheeks in response, stamping his lips to your forehead. “Love you, sweetheart.” 

“I love you, too.” 

That was never up for debate. 

[darkficlord69]

Cregan Stark x Fem!Wife!Reader

Title: Northern Duties

Summary: Set during the harsh winter months in Winterfell, you find yourself caught between your growing affection for Cregan Stark and the responsibilities that bind him to his people. The snow might be cold, but the warmth of your bond with the Warden of the North is undeniable. Yet, even love has its challenges in the unforgiving North.

Warnings: 18+ implied, fluff, angst

Word Count: 3k

***

The winds howled outside Winterfell’s thick stone walls, sending icy drafts through the narrow corridors. You pulled your cloak tighter around yourself as you made your way through the dimly lit hallways, the torchlight casting flickering shadows against the rough-hewn walls. It was always cold in the North, but this winter was different—harsher, more unforgiving.

It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and refused to leave, no matter how many layers of furs you piled on. But the cold was the least of your worries. What concerned you more was the way Cregan Stark had been distancing himself, his attention consumed by the growing responsibilities of ruling the North.

You had come to Winterfell months ago, part of an alliance forged between your family and House Stark. The marriage had been arranged, but that didn’t mean it was without affection. Cregan was a man of honour, kind in his own way, and though he was often reserved, you had grown to love him. His quiet strength, his dedication to his people, and the way he would steal glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking—it all endeared him to you. That, along with his muscled form, his big heaving chest and his even larger…forms.

But lately, the distance between you had grown, like an icy ravine that neither of you seemed able to cross.

You found him in the Great Hall, hunched over a table laden with maps and letters. His dark brown hair was tousled, a few stray strands falling into his eyes as he studied the documents before him. The fire crackled in the hearth, but its warmth seemed not to reach him.

“Cregan?” you called softly, stepping into the room.

He looked up, and for a moment, the hardness in his gaze softened. “Y/N,” he acknowledged, though his voice was tired. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

You offered a small smile, crossing the room to stand beside him. “You’ve been here all night.”

“There’s much to do,” he replied, his eyes flicking back to the map of the North spread out before him. “The winter is harsh this year, and there are reports of wildling activity near the Wall. I need to ensure that the North is prepared.”

You nodded, understanding his concerns. “I know the North is your priority, but you can’t neglect yourself in the process. You need rest, Cregan.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll rest when there’s time.”

“There’s never time,” you countered gently. “Not if you don’t make it.”

He finally looked at you, really looked at you, and you saw the exhaustion etched into his features. His grey Stark eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were dulled by sleepless nights and the weight of his responsibilities.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, reaching out to take your hand. His touch was warm, a stark contrast to the chill in the air. “I’ve been distant.”

You squeezed his hand, the simple gesture conveying all the words you didn’t need to say. “I know you have responsibilities, Cregan. I just… I miss you.”

He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a rare moment of vulnerability. His embrace was firm, reassuring, and you let yourself melt into it, savoring the warmth and the sense of safety it brought.

“I’m here now,” he said quietly, his breath warm against your ear. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

***

The next few days were a blur of preparation and planning. Winterfell was abuzz with activity as Cregan and his bannermen worked tirelessly to ensure the safety of the North. The long nights you had spent alone were now filled with strategy meetings, and the brief moments you did manage to steal with Cregan were often interrupted by matters of state.

It was frustrating, watching the man you loved slip further and further away, consumed by the weight of his duties. You understood that Cregan was doing what he needed to do, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

One evening, after yet another day spent in solitude, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. Wrapping your cloak around you, you ventured out into the courtyard, seeking the comfort of the Godswood. The heart tree stood tall and ancient in the center of the grove, its red leaves stark against the snow-covered ground. You knelt before it, hoping the Old Gods might offer you some clarity.

The wind rustled through the branches, carrying with it the faint sound of footsteps. You turned to see Cregan approaching, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” he said softly, coming to stand beside you.

“This is where I come to think,” you replied, turning your gaze back to the heart tree. “When everything else feels too overwhelming.”

Cregan was silent for a moment, and you could feel the tension radiating off him. “I’ve failed you,” he said finally, his voice heavy with regret.

You looked at him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been so focused on my duties, on protecting the North, that I’ve neglected you,” he admitted, his eyes fixed on the heart tree. “You deserve better than that.”

You shook your head, reaching out to take his hand. “Cregan, you’ve been doing what you need to do. I understand that. But we’re supposed to be in this together. You don’t have to bear this burden alone.”

He turned to face you, his expression conflicted. “I don’t want to burden you with my worries.”

“I want to share them,” you insisted. “Isn’t that what marriage is supposed to be? A partnership?”

Cregan’s shoulders slumped, and for the first time, you saw just how deeply his responsibilities weighed on him. “I never wanted to drag you into the hardships of the North. I wanted to keep you safe.”

You stepped closer, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I chose to be with you, Cregan. That means accepting everything that comes with it, even the hardships. I want to be by your side, no matter what.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned into your touch, his hand coming up to cover yours. “I don’t deserve you.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Then it’s a good thing I get to decide that, isn’t it?”

Cregan let out a soft chuckle, the sound easing some of the tension between you. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if you were the only thing anchoring him to the world.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’ll get through this, Cregan. Together.”

You kissed him then, and all the snow in the North could have melted underneath your blazing passion.

***

Winter continued its relentless grip on the North, but things between you and Cregan began to change. He made more of an effort to spend time with you, to include you in his plans and decisions. It wasn’t always easy, and there were still moments when the weight of his responsibilities threatened to pull him away, but you faced those challenges together.

The nights were the hardest. When the cold seemed to seep into every corner of Winterfell, it was easy to feel isolated and alone. But Cregan was always there, his presence a steady reassurance in the darkness.

One particularly cold night, you found yourselves curled up together in front of the fire in your chambers. The flames crackled and popped, casting a warm glow over the room as you nestled against Cregan’s side. He had his big arm around you, holding you close as you shared the warmth of the fire.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” you asked, your voice soft in the quiet of the room.

Cregan smiled, a rare, genuine smile that lit up his usually serious features. “Of course I do. You were so nervous, you could barely look me in the eye.”

You laughed, the memory bringing a warmth to your heart that the fire couldn’t match. “I was terrified. You were so… intimidating.”

“And now?” he asked, his tone teasing.

“Now you’re just my big cuddly bear,” you teased back, earning a mock-scowl from him.

“I am not!” he protested, but there was no real heat in his words.

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “Perhaps…”

Cregan’s expression softened, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. It was slow, tender, and full of the love that had grown between you over the months. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the space between you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, the words like a warm breath against your cold heart.

“I love you too, Cregan,” you whispered back, your voice full of the emotion you felt.

For a moment, there was nothing but the two of you, wrapped up in each other and the warmth of the fire. It was in these moments that you felt most connected, when the world outside seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you and the love that had blossomed despite the hardships you faced.

But like all fleeting moments of peace, this one was interrupted by the harsh realities of your lives.

A sharp knock echoed through the chamber door, and before you could respond, the door creaked open. One of Cregan's most trusted bannermen, Lord Karl Umber, stepped inside, his face drawn with concern.

"My lord," he began, his eyes flickering briefly to you before returning to Cregan, "There are urgent reports from the Wall. A large band of wildlings have been sighted moving south. The Night's Watch fears they might be preparing for an attack."

Cregan stiffened beside you, the tension returning to his body in an instant. The warmth between you evaporated, replaced by the cold reality of his duties.

"I'll be there shortly," Cregan said, his voice hardening with resolve.

Karl nodded, sparing you another brief glance before retreating from the room. The door shut behind him with a heavy thud, leaving you and Cregan in silence once more.

He didn’t move immediately, his arm still draped around your shoulders, but you could sense the turmoil inside him, the pull of duty warring with the desire to stay by your side.

"You have to go," you said quietly, breaking the silence. It wasn't a question, just a simple statement of fact.

Cregan exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your hair. "I don't want to leave you."

You smiled sadly, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. "I know. But you have to."

His jaw clenched, and he pulled you tighter against him as if he could somehow keep you safe by sheer force of will. But you both knew the truth. The North needed him. The Wall needed him. His people needed him.

And as much as it hurt, you understood that.

"I'll come back to you," he promised, his voice low and fierce. "I swear it."

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. "I know you will. Just… be careful."

He leaned down to kiss you again, this time with more urgency, more desperation. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things he couldn’t say, all the fears and hopes and unspoken promises that lingered between you.

When he finally pulled away, you saw the determination in his eyes, the strength that had first drawn you to him. This was the man you loved, the man you had chosen to stand beside, no matter how difficult the road ahead might be.

"I'll be waiting," you whispered as he stood, already feeling the cold settle in as he moved away.

Cregan paused at the door, his hand resting on the frame as he looked back at you. There was a weight in his gaze, a depth of emotion that he rarely let show.

Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed through the room.

You sat there for a long time, staring at the door, the warmth of the fire slowly fading as the reality of his departure settled in. The silence was deafening, the emptiness of the room a stark contrast to the moments of warmth you had just shared.

It was always like this, the fleeting moments of happiness overshadowed by the looming specter of duty. But that was the life you had chosen when you married Cregan Stark, Warden of the North. You knew the challenges that came with it, the sacrifices that had to be made.

And you would face them, because you loved him. Even if it meant spending more nights alone, waiting for him to return to you.

***

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no word from Cregan. The cold seemed to grow harsher with each passing day, the snow piling up against the walls of Winterfell as the winter deepened.

You threw yourself into the tasks that needed to be done, helping where you could, overseeing the stores of food and supplies, and ensuring that the people of Winterfell were cared for. It was the only way to keep the worry at bay, to keep yourself from imagining the worst.

But at night, when the castle was quiet and the cold crept in through the cracks in the stone, you couldn’t help but think of him. You wondered where he was, if he was safe, if he was thinking of you. The loneliness gnawed at you, a constant ache that refused to fade.

One particularly brutal night, when the wind howled like a wounded animal and the snow fell in thick, suffocating waves, you found yourself in the Godswood once more. The heart tree stood silent and ancient before you, its red leaves stark against the white of the snow. You knelt before it, your breath visible in the frigid air as you silently prayed for Cregan’s safe return.

The Old Gods didn’t answer, but the peace of the Godswood offered some small comfort. You stayed there for a long time, until the cold seeped into your bones and forced you back inside.

When you finally returned to your chambers, you found that sleep wouldn’t come. The bed was too empty, too cold without Cregan beside you. So, you sat by the fire, staring into the flames as they danced and flickered, your mind drifting to memories of him.

It was in the early hours of the morning, when the fire had burned down to embers, that you heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor. At first, you thought it was just another servant, but there was something about the tread that caught your attention. Something familiar.

Your heart leapt in your chest as you hurried to the door, flinging it open just in time to see Cregan striding toward you, snow clinging to his cloak and boots. He looked exhausted, his face gaunt from the cold and the weight of his responsibilities, but he was alive.

"Cregan," you breathed, relief washing over you in a wave so powerful it nearly brought you to your knees.

He didn't say a word as he reached you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him, of leather and smoke and the biting cold of the North.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. There was nothing to say that could truly capture the depth of your relief, the joy and fear and love that warred within you.

Finally, Cregan pulled back just enough to look down at you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "I'm home," he said simply, his voice rough with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you nodded, unable to find the words. You leaned into his touch, your heart swelling with the sheer joy of having him back, of knowing that he was safe.

Without another word, he kissed you, a fierce, possessive kiss that spoke of all the things he couldn’t say. It was a kiss that promised he would never leave you again, even if you both knew that wasn’t a promise he could truly keep.

When you finally broke apart, you rested your forehead against his, your breaths mingling in the cold air between you.

"I was so worried," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"I know," he murmured, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "I'm sorry. I never meant to make you worry."

"You can’t help that," you replied, your hand resting on his chest where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. "Just… don’t leave me for so long again."

"I won’t," he vowed, his voice full of the promise he couldn’t make. But you believed him, because you had to. Because that was the only way to keep going.

You spent the rest of the night curled up together in front of the fire, talking quietly as the flames warmed the room. Cregan told you of the battles he had fought, the wildlings they had faced, and the toll it had taken on him. And you listened, offering what comfort you could, even as your heart ached for the burdens he had to bear.

But he was home now, and that was all that mattered.

As the first light of dawn crept through the window, you finally allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Cregan was there beside you. The North was harsh, and the winter was long, but with Cregan by your side, you knew you could face whatever came your way.

Together.

---

Thank you all for reading! Any feedback is greatly appreciated 💝🐺 Guys, please visit the other content I make! XOXO ❤️‍🔥

[screampied]

heyyo ex!Toji who just can’t forget you and he’s FRUSTRATED with it, he swears he saw you on his kitchen at midnight (it’s not real) and touches himself while looking at your old photos that he still has.. hope u take requests

☆ : ex-bf! toji x fem!reader

⤷ tags : part one & two, ex trope, masterbation, pervy toji, needy toji, phone sex, dirty talk, mdni. wc. 1.1k

an. yesss i do and omg i love ex bf toji tysm ngh

oh how he hates feeling like this.

ex-bf!toji was so pent up and annoyed. he’s annoyed at you for making him so irritated. so…hard. toji never realized how attached he grew towards you. after the messy break up. he found himself fantasizing about you way more than he should. it takes him a long time to move on.

that is if he ever moves on.

“the fuck..” he’d grumble, blinking twice to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks. he could have sworn he saw you in the kitchen, hovering over the sink counter, bent over while occupying yourself, doing the dishes or cooking.

with another blink, you weren’t there and he was back to reality, he scratched his head before a vexed scowl spreads on his pink lips. it was late at night, and he figured it was his own drowsiness getting to him — so he didn’t think much of it until he goes back towards his room.

he finds himself in his bed, lazily leaned back before unlocking it to look at the collection of old photos he had of you, the more…filthy ones the two of you took while intimate. he scrolls to a specific one with you on your knees, tongue sticking out and….next thing toji knew, he was dialing your number.

he didn’t have to go to his contact list because he knew your digits by heart.

he just needed to hear your voice again, touching himself at the thought and sight of you just wasn’t enough.

“oh, hey….didn’t think you’d pick up,” he breaks the silence. his voice was pitched, a hint of roughness in it. based from his breathing on the other line, it sounded like he was panting heavily. he lays back against the bed—combing a hand through his hair before wiping his nose. “i’m not gonna sugarcoat things so i’m just gonna say it,” he grumbles, clenching his jaw before swallowing. “i’ve been uh, fantasizin’ about you.”

it’s pretty late at night, and you’re still confused on why he called.

well…you probably knew. toji heard about your messy breakup. he just couldn’t get you out of his head — he wondered if it was like that for you.

“you fantasize about me?” you speak on the other end of the phone in a soft voice.

he’s always loved your voice, how sweet it sounded, especially during phone calls. the calm, smoothness of it.

“yeah,” he mutters. “thought i saw you in the kitchen today. and i got kind of hard once i was deleting pictures in my camera roll.”

“…oh?” you utter. and you couldn’t lie, you were intrigued, who were you kidding. you missed toji too—perhaps in more ways than one. you still kept the dozens of voicemails he dumped you. of just him talking, rambling, or even him talking you through an orgasm on the phone. “were you touching yourself to me, toji?”

he pauses for a brief moment before grumbling. “yeah. you know i was.”

“mhm..not really,” you giggle. “that’s kinda why i’m asking.”

toji inhales at your teasing, and he closes his eyes shut for a brief moment—you were…teasing him? he could tell by the tone of your voice. he tried to relax, squeezing two fingers down against his nose before uttering, “fuck, you should come over.”

“i’m all the way across town.”

“i’ll pick you up.”

“toji.” you rolled your eyes—you forgot how persistent he was. you could hear the want and neediness in his tone. it was cute, not to mention attractive. he was like this all because of you.

he sighs. “fine, just talk to me.”

“about?”

“talk to me,” he repeats, and his voice pitches a bit more. that made you feel tingly a bit. you knew what he meant by talking—toji was a man, an impatient one that wasn’t keen on beating around the bush nor sugar coating things. “i fuckin’ missed you. and knowing i can’t touch you right now, i feel all hot and pent up.”

you think for a moment before humming. “oh,” and then you smile to yourself. “if i were with you right now, what would you be doing, toji? what would we be doing?”

“i’d be kissing your neck, softly biting down against that spot where y’er all sensitive,” he starts—and he’s panting again, you hear a bit of shuffling through the other end of the line. “i’d kiss all up and down your body. trace my hands down your curves a-and.”

“it’s okay, just say you wanna fuck me.” you tease.

“woman….” he moans, and if you’d bet money that toji was stroking himself to you voice. he inhales and exhales, before swallowing a thick lump in his throat. the phone pressed up against his ear. “i wanna fuck you. so damn bad.”

you hum. “i bet you do,” and you were starting to get riled up yourself. toji grows quiet every time you speak, and hearing him sound all needy for you a bit horny yourself. “are you touching yourself right now, toji?”

“is it obvious?” he mutters.

“a little,” you coo, and it’s not long before toji starts to moan through the other line of the phone. his moans were low and pitchy—repeating your name again and again, you had him wrapped around your finger. “are you imagining i’m the one stroking you right now?”

“y-yeah baby.” he sighs. he hits his lip in frustration as his eyebrows press together, and he groans. “shit, ‘s not fair. y’know what you’re doing to me.”

you giggle. “i’m just talking to you. like you said.”

minutes past and toji’s jaw clenched, tilting his head back he’s just imagining the entire scene. your voice doesn’t make things better, he’s visualizing everything.

your touch, your taste, even your sweet scent. that pretty perfume you always wore—god, he wanted you. he craved you.

“f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum to just the sound of your voice.” he says. teeth clenched against each other, and he’s embarrassed. his face was flustered, flushed, whatever else. “all your fault.”

“sureee, it’s my fault.” you play along. after the long anticipating build up. toji cums, fisting his hand with pumps and watching how he made a mess on himself. a low sigh exits from his mouth and he grunts—the other like going quiet. “aww. toji, look at you, getting off to the sound of my voice. wish i could see.”

he groans. “…shut up,” before he hangs up abruptly.

you giggle before seconds later, there’s a request that pops up on your phone — and toji wants to video call you. probably so you could see the mess you made him make.

[mintymarabell]

Infertile elder yautja

This is very much an impossible scenario but I’m making it happen anyways. Oh you guys I’ve been gone for so long and when I come back I ramble. I’m so sorry!

Mentions of : infertility, pregnancy, childbirth, stillborns, accused cheating, distant partner.

Your mate was infertile, his seed never taking to any other female.

If it did take the baby was always a still born, cold to the touch and grey in color.

He still wanted a mate though, so instead he just opted for a human, one that wouldn’t beg for a baby every year when he for obvious reasons couldn’t give one.

That’s when he met you, little oh you on planet earth wondering around. He obviously took a liking to you, giving you so many treasures and golds that when we does reveal himself to you it isn’t as scream worthy.

Fast forward, you both lived happy lives on yaujta prime; you skipped around enjoying your forever vacation while he just did his usual businesses of supervising hunts, going to meetings, being an elder in general, and coming home to you.

Just because you were human didn’t mean he didn’t love you, he did love you. To him you were like a breath of fresh air, not having to constantly impress you or abide to most yautja traditions.

But most importantly he loved the way your skin felt, late at night when you were fast asleep he’d often find himself with his hand rubbing up and down your back, your skin oh so soft compared to his own rough skin.

Then his happy facade broke because there was one day he noticed something, the off look in your eye, the absent rubbing of your belly. He knew what you wanted, he almost wanted to bite his tongue in half and swallow it because he knew he wouldn’t be able to give you what you wanted.

So he’d often find himself trying to pull away, creating distance with the excuse of work but it didn’t hold up long as one night as he snuck into the bedroom you sat in bed, tears ran down your cheeks as you looked at him.

Your mate has seen you cry only once but that was before he had fully met you but that was then and this was now, now you were right there in front of him looking at him as if he was caught red handed.

He tried to remain calm as he walked towards your bed side, kneeling down on his knees. Never has he kneeled before, never has he lowered his head either but for you he had and for you he’d do anything.

“My canary, what is the matter?” He spoke with a low voice as if he would startle you into running away, though you didn’t. You had sat there staring at him then you had popped the question; “Are you cheating on me?” Your voice was hoarse, not something he liked to hear even if it was his first time.

“What?” He spoke with wide eyes, “My bird what gives you that assumption? I could never cheat on you, not someone as perfect.” He spoke, though the last part of his sentence was whispered. You had told him you thought he was cheating due to him pulling away and coming in late.

As you spoke he kind of looked off. His hands were fiddling with your small fingers, a habit he has picked up lately. “My love, I know what you want. It is a baby, yes?” He asked as he finally looked at you, your head giving a small nod.

He had sighed, “I’m not sure I can give you one.” “Could we still try?” You spoke quietly, your eyebrows scrunched together. “If that is what you want my dear.” He spoke softly, his hands finally leaving your own as he stood up.

He had wanted to kick himself but how could he say no to your face? So you both will do what people do, waiting a few days; your excitedly walking around talking his ear off about the baby room all while he has this blank look on his face.

When you do end up being pregnant he is astounded but not too much because of it happening before and being a still born in the end. But don’t worry, he will be there through the pregnancy, rubbing your back, cuddling close to you.

He will be there when you have morning sickness or running off in the middle of the night to get you some weird craving.

He was in the kitchen, you were seven months along and had politely demanded chicken piccata. He had no clue how to make the earth dish but never the less was trying to best as he had slaughtered a chicken for it and stole a recipe book from someone.

As he was slicing up the chicken breast he heard you hiss, he immediately dropped the knife as he peaked his head in the living room and rushing to wash the salmonella off his hands. “Are you alright?” He had called which was given no response.

He walked into the room, an apron on that said kiss the chef. You were sitting on the couch, urging him to come here as you practically shoved him towards your stomach.

“Feel.” You spoke as you put his hands on your tummy, he gave you a raised nonexistent eyebrow as he sat there then he felt it, a very strong kick that had you making a slight face. “Isn’t that sweet?” You spoke quietly as if you were recovering.

“Sounds like you’ve been through it love.” He spoke as he rubbed at your stomach before getting up. “Maybe the baby is strong.” You spoke as you had watched him. He had shrugged and walked back to the kitchen.

When you had went into labor it was 4:52am, your mate was asleep on his side facing you with a hand on your stomach. You had rose up from the bed with a strong pain in your stomach, you nudged your mate awake to which he immediately did so. “What’s wrong?” He asked immediately as he also sat up.

You didn’t really have to explain to him what was wrong as you had went to stand your water broke, the water hitting the ground.

Your mate had carried you all the way to the clinic, running the whole way and also carrying the overnight bag. The doctors had taken you into a room that had blue lights to keep you calm. The doctors being complete nerds and had researched everything they could as they practically piled near you giggling internally at the studying opportunity.

As you had laid in the bed, the bed already sat up at an angle you breathed deeply as your mate held your hand, rubbing your knuckles.

An older female yautja had sat between your spread legs, as she popped her head up she told your mate in yautja tongue you needed to push.

After twelve agonizing hours and your mate having a sore hand there were small cries. He almost thought he was hearing things, maybe your screaming had damaged his ear canals?

But no, the doctor lifted up a sweet baby who was moving and very visibly upset. His breath was lost in his throat as he watched the child be handed off to you with congratulations on the new baby girl. The doctors all scribbling notes down and walking out.

The baby was smaller but looked yautja, he almost wanted to believe it wasn’t his but he knew you were loyal. He almost didn’t know what to do with himself as he stood there watching you rest with your eyes closed, his newborn daughter fast asleep on your chest.

He was quiet all the way until you had looked up at him, asking in a tired voice, “do you want to hold her?”

He nodded slowly. He had slowly reached his arms out, letting you place her into them. She was so small, almost comically in his arms.

Though from there on out he made a silent vow to himself as he leaned down and slightly touched heads with her. He vowed to never let anything happen to his beautiful baby girl, even if it would kill him.

[elijahstwink]

i also have the fantasy of fucking elijah in red door mode yooo 😳 ... but if you ever feel inspired and want to write smut abt it , Im interested in reading it ofc,, and there is also just so few red door elijah shit out there 💔

𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓖𝓸

(I’d let him punch me holy this gif is hot)

Your boyfriend is going through a rough time. You help him feel better ;)

Thank you for the request anon! I always feel like writing dark!Elijah smut so this was so fun! It’s also the freakiest thing I’ve written lol. I hope you enjoy - Dex

Warnings: Blood play, Spitting, Choking, Slapping, Oral F!receiving, Dom!Elijah, Sub!reader, Elijah’s pretty mean, overstimulation, blood drinking, degradation, use of slut, whore etc

Seperate warning for this one. This has CNC! (Aka Reader consents for Elijah not to stop when she asks him too)

Your white dress billows behind you as you sprint down the hallway and towards the red door. Your bare feet burn at each step on ragged tile. You glance back to see Elijah turn the corner. His stone cold face and bare chest are covered in blood, all emotion void from his expression. Desperation fuels your speed, your legs burning and your lungs screaming as adrenaline courses through you. Elijah follows at a steady pace, his deliberate steps echoing, his breathing animalistic. He could catch you in an instant, but he prefers the thrill of the chase. He wants to savor your fear, your pain.

His footsteps are unnervingly close as you near the door. Just a little farther…

You slam into the red wood, pain shooting through your arm as you grasp the brass doorknob. It’s locked. You pound on the door, scream, and glance back in terror as Elijah approaches.

“Elijah, please!” you plead, but he keeps coming. This isn’t your Elijah, the kind and noble man you loved. This is a monster.

You turn back to the door, pounding and screaming for help, but it’s too late. Elijah’s hand clamps onto your upper arm, yanking you toward him. You struggle, but his grip is unbreakable. His eyes darken, veins pulsing as he opens his mouth, revealing sharp fangs glinting in the darkness.

Elijah jolts upright in bed, his body drenched in sweat and trembling. Nightmares of hurting you plague him every night since the incident with his mother. The red door haunts his mind, and he can no longer ignore it.

Breathing deeply, Elijah clutches his hair and turns to watch you sleep. Usually, this sight calms him, reminding him that he isn’t the blood-covered man in his dreams. That red door Elijah is just a fragment of himself, a dark fraction everyone has.

But tonight is different. The dreams are more vivid, leaving him feeling feral and dangerous. Every small sound or touch threatens to make him lose control. He needs blood.

Elijah carefully slips out of bed, pulling on grey sweatpants. He moves silently through the dark compound, descending the staircase to the large kitchen. He rounds the island, opens the blood fridge, and light floods the dark space. He grabs three blood bags and rips into one.

As the blood overtakes his senses, veins web below his eyes. He grips the marble countertop harder, ripping open the second bag, anger rising. The taste of blood makes red door Elijah creep to the surface.

“Lijah?” you call from the doorway, wrapped in a silk nightgown. Elijah’s head snaps up, his red eyes meeting yours as the marble edge crumbles in his hand. You rush to him, but before you can reach him, he grabs you by the neck, pinning you against the wall.

Despite his aggressive state, you’re not scared. You’ve been worried for him since he returned, his personality flipping randomly between normal and red door Elijah. The worst was on Bourbon Street, when he tried to rip out a man's heart for bumping into you. Red door Elijah is possessive, never letting you out of his sight, fearing that if you walk away, he’ll start chasing you like in his dreams.

Elijah's grip on your neck is firm but not painful, and you see the conflict in his eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay, my love,” you say softly, cupping his cheeks and tracing the veins with your fingertips until they fade.

Elijah’s eyes return to their regular onyx shade, guilt washing over him as he releases your neck and drops the empty blood bag.

“Shh, you’re alright, I’m alright,” you comfort him, wrapping your arms around him as he breathes heavily into the crook of your neck.

“I- I don’t know what to do, I crave you,” Elijah growls into your skin, his fangs gently scratching along your pulse point. Your eyes shut at the contact, but an idea pops into your head. A crazy, probably stupid idea... but an idea nonetheless.

“Perhaps you need to release all the pent up anger.” You suggest carefully. Elijah pulls away from your neck and stares at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He places his hands on the wall either side of your head, keeping you trapped against him. You can tell by the look in his eye that he definitely knows what you mean.

“I mean,” You rest your hand flat on Elijah’s bare chest, sliding it down to cup him over his sweatpants. “Let go, take it all out on me.” You gaze up at him innocently, something you know drives him nuts. Elijah swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement.

“No y/n. I wouldn’t be myself, I could hurt you.” Elijah shakes his head, already feeling his alternate personality taking control as his cock thickens under your touch.

“That’s the thing, you won’t hurt me. And as soon as you prove that to yourself, you can start to move past this.” You explain, slipping your hand under his waistband and taking hold of his erection, his length warm in you grasp.

You completely believe what you’re telling him. You know that he would never hurt you if not for pleasure, but that doesn’t stop you feeling like this may be a mistake. After all, Elijah is pretty dominant in bed already. If normal Elijah can edge you for hours or make you cum so much you’re begging for him to stop. Who knows what red door Elijah will do.

“Do you kn-“ Elijah interrupts himself with a deep groan as you push his pants to his feet and bring your unoccupied hand down to play with his balls, rolling them between your fingers. You can’t tear your gaze from his swollen cock and the bead of arousal gathering at the tip as wetness builds between your legs. You could mentally pat yourself on the back right now for not dropping to your knees and licking it up.

He suddenly grips your wrist, rough enough to leave a mark, making you gasp in surprise and release your hold on him. When you look up, you see that his eyes have returned to that crimson shade with veins underneath them. He grabs your neck with his free hand and leans down till your faces are inches apart.

“Do you know what you are asking for?” He breaths against your lips, tightening his hold when you nod. “Words.” He commands sternly.

“Yes, Elijah.” You squeak. He smirks at you, the veins flowing under his eyes.

“And you are aware that if you say stop, I won’t.” Elijah growls. You can tell he’s holding back, needing your consent before doing anything more.

“I know. I want you…” You murmur, bravely grabbing at his crotch again before whispering in his ear, “to ruin me.”

You can visibly see when red door Elijah fully takes over, any apprehension within him vanishes as he suddenly rips your night gown off your body and steps out of his pants, leaving you both naked.

“I didn’t mean here!” You whisper, looking around anxiously. The kitchen is one of the main rooms of the compound. If anyone were to wake up it’s highly likely they’d come to this room.

You squeak as Elijah lifts you onto the centre island and pushes you to lay flat on it. The cold marble countertop against your back sends chills down your spine as Elijah stands between your legs. His eyes are clouded,

“What if someone walks in?” You ask as Elijah bends your knees so that your feet are on the counter and your core is exposed. Elijah doesn’t respond, instead grabbing the last blood bag and holding it over you with a smirk.

You don’t have time to even question what the hell he’s planning before he rips the plastic in half with his hands, drenching you in blood. God this man is lucky you love him because no other human would still be turned on while covered in blood. Elijah leans down so you are face to face, his chest is getting covered in blood now as well.

“If anyone walks in here,” Elijah dips a finger between your breasts, “I’ll snap their neck.” He growls, sucking on his now bloody finger, moaning at the taste.

Red door Elijah doesn’t seem to be the slow and steady type. His movements are rough and almost crazed as he grips your thighs and pulls your legs over his shoulders. Now eye level with your blood covered cunt, Elijah doesn’t hesitate to practically devour you. The filthy sound of his mouth slurping up the mix of blood and arousal between your folds echoes throughout the kitchen. You release a choked moan as he sucks harshly on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Normal Elijah usually starts soft and gradually builds your pleasure to its peak. So this unfamiliar pace fills you with an uncomfortable sensitivity, causing you to grip his hair in both your hands and try to push his head away. Elijah releases a disapproving grunt at your actions. He moves his grip from your thighs to your wrists and pins them straight down at your sides. Your hands clench helplessly at the sleek countertop in an attempt to find something to grip as you squirm with oversensitivity.

When your wrists are tugged on slightly, you lift your head for the first time to watch the man between your legs. Elijah’s face is coloured crimson and veins are moving beneath his skin. A whimper passes your lips when his tongue thrusts inside you and his red eyes meet yours. His gaze is intense and demanding, practically shouting ‘behave’. You throw your head back against the marble with a loud moan as Elijah starts fucking you with his tongue. The feeling of the pointed muscle curling against your sweet spot has you arching your back. Sharp stabs of overstimulation are turning into waves of pleasure, causing you to clench your thighs around his head.

“E-Elijah I’m so close.” You wail, all your pleasure knotting together, building up in your lower stomach. Elijah hums in approval, his tongue working faster. and his nose nudging against your clit. Your moans increase in pitch as you’re brought closer to the edge, your hips jerking and your legs starting to shake. It doesn’t take more then a few thrusts of Elijah’s tongue against the spongy spot inside you before you’re coming, wailing in pleasure and practically grinding on your boyfriends face as you get lost in the euphoric feeling. Your legs are almost vibrating with the intensity of their shaking and your walls are pulsating around Elijah’s tongue as you come down from your orgasm.

Elijah pulls away quite suddenly, releasing his bruising grip on your wrists and dropping your legs from his shoulders. “Stand up.” He orders, taking a step backwards. You would have given him a ‘are your serious right now?’ type of look, if you weren’t too out of it. Instead you stay lying across the counter, trembling as you come down from your high. After a moment of silence you manage to speak out, “Elijah, Can’t.”.

“I said,” he grabs you under your arms and hauls you upwards so you are standing on shaking legs, all your weight being supported by him, “stand up.” He seethes, releasing his grip.

Your knees instantly buckle underneath you and you fall into Elijah’s chest. You would have hit the ground if not for him wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you against his chest and smirking at your feeble state.

“My naughty girl,” Elijah tugs your hair so that your head swings back, your eyes meeting his, “can’t even follow a simple task, hm?” He taunts.

His face has returned to normal, and he seems to have wiped the blood from around his mouth at some point. Elijah’s eyes are clouded with more than lust and you can see the red door version of him staring back at you. He usually talks much more during sex, and you can’t deny that you miss the comforting praise.

That thought is literally smacked away as Elijah’s palm meets your cheek in a light slap. You probably look like an idiot for a split second as you process what he just did.. and how much you liked it. You release a drawn out moan as he repeats the action before grabbing your jaw, holding your head up to his and smirking.

“Do you like that?” Elijah chuckles as you flush in embarrassment.

“If you wish to act like a slut, then I will treat you as such. Open.” He growls, pulling at your jaw as you open your mouth. Red Door Elijah is seemingly full of surprises, as he lines up his mouth with yours and spits. The feeling of someone else’s spit in your mouth would likely make you throw up. But this was Elijah, your boyfriend and the love of your life so of course it feels good. A rush of arousal wets your spent cunt as you gurgle slightly.

Elijah clamps your mouth shut, grinning like a maniac as he instructs you “Swallow,” The slide of his spit down your throat makes you moan, absolutely loving the filthiness of his actions, “Good girl.” He praises you for the first time, giving your jaw a light squeeze before releasing it.

The praise is gone as quickly as it came when Elijah spins you around, bending you over the counter. You gasp at the coldness against your sensitive nipples. He holds your hip with one hand, the other guiding his erect cock through your shiny folds. The pleasure of Elijah nudging your clit with every upstroke distracts you from the feeling on blood slowly drying on your skin.

Your mouth drops in surprise, screaming out as Elijah suddenly enters you in one bruising thrust and with no warning. The stretch is painful, but you’re wet enough that he slides in easily. Your hand shoots behind you on reflex, pushing hard against his torso. Elijah only chuckles at your pathetic attempt of pushing him away, grabbing your wrist and holding it behind your back.

“Too much Elijah, please just wait!” You plead when you feel him starting to move inside you, blood smearing the whit marble underneath you.

“Shh, take it.” Elijah shushes, not waiting for you to adjust before slamming into you again, his tip pressing against your cervix and causing you to sob out a moan. With every battering thrust of his hips, the loud clap of skin meeting skin fills the room.

It doesn’t take more than a minute before the pain dulls into a numbing ache and the pleasure overwhelms you. You’re moaning like a whore, taking every inch of his thick cock inside you, your walls fluttering around him. The way his shaft glides across your g spot makes you jerk with pleasure.

“That’s it, such a sweet little slut falling apart on my cock.” He coos, releasing your hand and pulling you up till your back meets his chest. He wraps his arm around your neck so your chin rests on his bicep and keeps working his hips back and forth, fucking into you in long, brutal strokes. The base of his cock throbs every time he bottoms out, and his balls slap against your slit with wet, filthy noises. His animalistic grunts mix with your cries of pleasure.

“Still too much for you?” He teases, laughing when his only response is a gurgle of incoherent words that you didn’t even notice came from your mouth. “Yeah?” He murmurs, pounding into you at an inhuman speed.

Elijah rests his other hand on your blood stained lower stomach, sending a jolt of warmth through you.

“Who do you belong to?” Elijah whispers, his breath tickling your ear. “Who owns this cunt, y/n?” He runs the tips of his fingers over your clit.

“Y-you Elijah!” You sob, tears forming in your eyes from the intense pleasure this man is giving you.

“That’s my girl.” Elijah praises before bringing his hand down hard on your clit. Surprisingly it wasn’t painful at all. You heard the smack before you felt it and suddenly you were gushing around his cock, the mix of his cock rubbing at your walls and the sharp pleasure to your clit plummeting you into an unexpected orgasm. Your eyes go blurry from tears as you squirt all over the counter and floor. Euphoria runs through you in a single wave as your walls uncontrollably pulsate around Elijah.

“Look at you, cumming on my cock like a good little girl. Making such a mess.” Elijah’s groans, pulling out of you suddenly. You whine at the loss, feeling your slick cunt clench at the air. Elijah turns you to face him before bending down and hooking his arms under your legs. You squeal as he lifts you up, essentially folding you in half as your knees touch your shoulders. Elijah’s hands cup your arse, and you wrap your own around his neck. He shows no strain as he holds you in mid air, turning you both so he can lean slightly against the counter.

You throw your head back and clench your eyes shut as Elijah pushes inside you again, the sensitivity of having just cum causing you to claw harshly at his back.

“Elijah, stop!” You call out, the overstimulation feeling like too much. He doesn’t listen, not that you were expecting him too.

You’re absolutely helpless as he starts moving you up and down his length, using you like some type of fuck doll. You fidget and squirm relentlessly in an attempt to make him stop.

“Look at me!” Elijah barks. You use the little strength you have to lift your head, meeting his intense and feral gaze. “You are going to shut up, take my cock and you’re going to fucking enjoy it. Do you understand?” He sneers, slowing down so you can catch your breath and come up with a coherent sentence. You’ve never heard Elijah speak so vulgar before and it strangely turns you on.

You know that if you put up enough of a fight, your Elijah would come back and stop immediately. He’d probably beat himself up with guilt while he holds you and apologises way too many times. But you don’t want Elijah to feel bad, you asked him to do this in the first place.

“I understand, wanna take it.” You rush out before crashing your lips onto his, you can feel his grin as you try to shove your tongue into his mouth. He parts his lips for you and you whimper when he sucks heavily on your tongue.

Elijah thrusts his hips up erratically, his thrusts reaching vampire speed as his climax steadily approaches. You break the kiss to bury your face in his neck when you feel your own rising in your gut.

Elijah lifts one hand to grip your hair and pull your head back to present your neck. Searing pain rushes through you as his fangs pierce your skin, mixing with the pleasure of his thrusts. Your vision goes black as your third orgasm of the night crushes you. The feeling of Elijah’s cum filling your tight cunt only prolongs your pleasure. You feel Elijah retreat from your neck as his moans fill the air, mixing with what you realise is your own screams.

Elijah slips out of you when his cock stops spurting, feeling the aggressive, lust filled haze of red door Elijah dissolving with every passing moment. He sits you on the counter momentarily to unhook his arms from underneath your legs. Then he lifts your trembling form back into his embrace, one hand holding your bum for support and the other cradling your head into his neck. Your grip around him loosens as you continue riding the waves of pleasure, shaking like a leaf in his hold.

Elijah chuckles endearingly as you moan into his neck. “Still coming baby?” He grins, kissing the top of your head. You manage a small whimper of agreement as you feel him start to walk somewhere.

Thank god for vampire speed, because Elijah has you in a warm shower within the minute. You rest against him, half asleep, as he washes the dried blood off your skin. After you are both clean and dry, you settle under the covers of your bed, cuddled up to the love of your life.

“Please tell me you don’t regret it.” Elijah mumbles into your hair. You release a tired laugh, your face pressed against his chest.

“No my love, I don’t regret it at all. Did it help?” You yawn, cuddling further into his comforting embrace.

“Definitely.” Elijah sighed, his mind feeling a lot calmer and his body tired. You tilt your head up, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

“Love you lijah.” You smile into the kiss as you speak. Elijah copies your grin as he responds, “Love you so much baby.”. He gives you one last peck before leaning back into the pillow and closing his eyes, waiting till he hears your cute snores before drifting into a dreamless sleep.

The couple are passed out cold by morning, still recovering from their late night. Klaus however, is very much awake as he stumbles into the living room, where Freya and Kol are engaged in an intense game of chess.

“Do not go into the kitchen!” Klaus gags, collapsing onto the couch in a dramatic heap. “And remind me to kill both Elijah and Y/N.”.

T A G L I S T (msg or comment to be on it)

@b1tchy

[cutielando]

my lifeline | m.r.

synopsis: in which you're his only purpose in life

my masterlist

Mattheo had always had it rough.

Being the son of the Dark Lord brought enough complications to his life, let alone being at school with people who only made fun of him because of that.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing about his life seemed fair, but he had no choice about it. He couldn’t change who he was, no matter how much he wanted to.

But he could change the way he viewed himself.

And he did. 

From the moment you had entered his life.

You transfering to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons had probably been the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Watching you timidly walk towards the Sorting Hat, anxiously waiting for it to speak and tell you which house you would join, seeing the sweet smile you had given the Slytherins once you joined them at their table and just so happened to have been sitting right across from him.

He knew, from the moment you had looked at him with your bright eyes, that he was a goner.

Over the course of your first weeks at the school, Mattheo had been the one to welcome you the best, always offering to show you around the castle, help you study or simply just keep you company while you would do homework together.

Pansy had also become your friend, very eager to have another girl in the friend group.

Pansy was also the first person to find out about your crush on the curly haired bad boy. 

It didn’t come as a surprise, really. With the amount of time you had been spending together ever since you came to the school, the countless walks you had been on with him when the both of you had free time, the charming smiles he would give you whenever he would look at you.

He had you mesmerized and he didn’t even realize.

The holidays had proved to be the perfect opportunity for Mattheo to finally tell you what he was feeling, right before you left for home.

“Y/N!” he had called out for you as you were struggling to carry your luggage down the countless pairs of stairs towards the castle entrance.

You turned around, a smile immediately appearing on your kind face. The kind of smile that made the butterflies in Mattheo’s stomach go crazy.

“Hey, Mattheo. I was just about to leave for the train, I didn’t want to be late” you explained, gesturing towards your trunk.

You didn’t know if you should have said anything else, knowing that his father and him probably didn’t want to have anything to do with each other and he had no reason to want to go home for the holidays.

“I know, and I wanted to catch you just before you left. I wanted to tell you something that I’ve been putting off for the entire semester” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

You nodded, signaling that you were listening. 

He let out a breath before speaking up once again.

“I like you, a lot. Ever since you transferred here, you’ve been on my mind. I’ve come to look forward to every minute that I get to spend with you, regardless of what we do. I just wanted to know if you would like to go on a date with me once you get back?” he asked, making you smile.

All the daydreams about what it would be like to be with him, to know that he was just yours, they were finally going to happen after so much lost time.

“Your timing really sucks” you joked, making him blush and nod. “But my answer is yes” you added before quickly leaning up to kiss his cheek and left.

Unbeknownst to you, the moment you had turned around and couldn’t see him anymore, he fist-bumped the air and did a little happy dance, being sure that nobody would see him and tarnish his bad boy reputation.

Typical.

During the time you spent away, you guys exchanged several letters, in most of them Mattheo was complaining about how slow the time was passing and how eager he was to see you again and take you out.

Which he did, the hour right after you had got back to Hogwarts. 

Your date had been amazing, sipping your favorite warm drinks at the Three Broomsticks, browsing around your favorite shops in Hogsmeade, and then finally ending with a goodnight kiss right at the bottom of the stairs leading to your bedroom.

The news that you had become a couple spread around as quickly as a disease would. Gossip traveled very fast around a school full of teenagers, especially when it involved someone with a reputation like Mattheo.

Being seen together in front of the whole school had been something you were weary of, ever since he had asked you out; mainly because it was no news that your now boyfriend was a very handsome lad, and a good number of the girls from every house had a thing for him.

Imagine now, with him dating you, it had automatically put a big target on your back.

But not to worry, Mattheo was there for you.

“People are staring” you told him on the morning of your first breakfast together as a couple, a day after everyone had got back from holiday.

“So? Let them stare, I don’t care” he said, shrugging his shoulders and pulling you closer to him.

You gulped, noticing more and more girls whispering and looking at you over their shoulders, frantically it was more like glaring deep into your soul.

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have the entire female population of this castle hoping your head would explode so they can take your place” you had meant for it to sound like a joke in order to not worry Mattheo, but he had seen right through it.

Following your gaze, he had noticed just how much attention there was on you that morning. He cleared his throat, glaring at every single girl right back, which then prompted them to blush and turn away from you guys.

“Don’t worry about other people, they know nothing about us and they’re just jealous” he whispered to you, planting a kiss on your temple in comfort.

You knew that he was right, that you just had to drown everyone out and just focus on Mattheo and what you had.

And that was exactly what you did.

Months went by very quickly, making your relationship with Mattheo only blossom more and more with each passing day. The love shared between you was more intense than anything either of you had experienced before.

You two helped each other, motivated and encouraged one another. You helped him deal with his problems, listened to him whenever he needed to unwind and just talk to someone about his home, about what his childhood was like and what being Voldemort’s son had done to him.

You slowly helped him out of his shell, making him open to you more and more each passing day, making sure he was comfortable whenever he was around you and always made sure he was okay, no matter where you were or what the circumstances were.

You became what he needed, his savior. 

A lifeline to pull him back to reality when he would need it the most, whenever he would feel like he was about to fall off the edge.

You were his life.

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[becsabillion4]

false god (we still worship)

pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary: Carmen has a bad shift, but you’re more than willing to turn his night around and show him exactly how good he is.

word count: 3,362

tags: SMUT, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, creampie, semi-public sex, window sex, lingerie, praise kink, vulnerable Carmy, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and yet again NOT an advert for safe sex. with that said, it’s fucking hot ;) and thank you to the wonderful person who submitted the prompt that inspired this, based around Carmy having a tough day and reader taking care of him (even though I’ve failed at tumblr and can’t find the original message). enjoy!!

thesydkid

Yo. Awful shift. Glad you weren’t here to see it.

whochefsouschef

fuckkk what happened?

thesydkid

Newbies think they know better than Tina because they went to CIA. You can imagine how Carmy took that.

whochefsouschef

was it kyle? he’s been like that since he started.

thesydkid

Yeah

Classic

whochefsouschef

syd?

I know that’s not all. kyle doesn’t warrant a text warning

thesydkid

Carm got food sent back.

whochefsouschef

shit.

thanks for the heads up

thesydkid

Good luck, cya tomorrow.

—------------------------------

It’s late, the kind of late where even the drunks winding through the streets have stopped their singing, the kind where it’s already too late to go to bed and get an ounce of good sleep. It’s the kind of late where you would have known it was a bad night even if Sydney hadn’t texted you first, because you know how hard Carmy cleans when he’s upset, and exactly how long that takes.

You sit up in bed abruptly, pushing your hair out of your face and considering your options. You have maybe ten minutes if Sydney texted you as soon as Carmy left, ten minutes to decide how you want to handle this kind of bad day. You feel a surge of frustration that you weren’t on shift tonight. As the Front of House Manager, you could have soothed the moronic, greedy, power-tripping customer who wanted to pull one over on the best chef in Chicago by sending back his perfect food-

Actually, maybe it was for the best you weren’t on shift tonight, or you might no longer have a job.

You smile when you think about how Richie will have handled it though. His courteous, collected energy even as he probably said something like, “Oh, you’d like to send this back? Wow, I’ve never heard a, uh - what do you call ‘em - oh, complaint before. Are you sure you know what this dish is?”

The smile fades when you think about Carmy’s reaction. You push yourself out of bed, decided by the image of his frustration, the anger he uses to hide his sadness. There’s been a few particularly bad shifts since you and Carmy moved in together - and Richie labelled himself as “matchmaker to the stars” for hiring you - and you know that if left to his own devices, Carmy will happily stay up all night stewing.

But you’re here now, and you’re determined not to let him. So you set your plan in motion.

By the time you hear his keys clink in the lock, you’re settled by the sofa, bare skin slightly chilled by the evening air coming in from the cracked window. You glance up as Carmy walks in, catch his eye, and he stops dead, hand still on the lock.

Bluer-than-blue eyes flicker across the scene you’re presenting for him - your best lingerie, your patient kneel, steady eyes - and he straightens from his tired stoop.

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes still tracing how the lace drapes across your skin in the low light.

“Hi,” you smile. “Join me?”

Without looking away from you, Carmy shuts the door, drops his stuff in a careless pile. “Syd texted?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to surprise you.”

Carmy’s eyes drift away from you for a second, glancing around the room, like he does when he’s thinking something through. You can almost hear his brain clicking through the gears. Turning the kitchen off, turning something else on.

“It was bad, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuckin’ shitty.”

“It’s over.” You raise a hand to him, tilt your head towards the sofa. “Get over here and let me do filthy things to you to make up for it.”

He laughs at that, toes off his shoes and takes the few steps to the sofa. He doesn’t sink into the cushions like you expected though, but kneels in front of you. You reach out, run a hand over the side of his face, feel the days-old stubble rasping under your touch. Bringing your other hand up, you cup his face, thumbs tracing over the bags under his eyes like you can smooth them out with that simple touch. You can feel his exhaustion in the way he leans forward into the feeling, and it breaks something in you.

When you kiss him, you intend for it to be careful and slow. Bring him out of his shell, remind him that things outside The Bear exist. But the moment your mouths press together, the moment you nip the edge of his bottom lip, the drained and defeated Carmy is gone.

He surges forward, almost sending you tipping over backwards, arms wrapping around your waist. One hand slides to your lower back, stretching to cover as much of your skin as he can possibly grasp. Pulling you forward, Carmy bows his head to suck a bruise into your throat and you know for damn sure it’ll be visible tomorrow. A glaring mark, a “fuck you” to the rest of the world painted on your skin.

Your hands are far from idle either, and as one pulls at his T-shirt, rucking it up to explore the muscles beneath, you run a finger from the other over the arch of his ear. Carmy shudders in a broad, full-body motion and his hips stutter, jerk forward into you. You both moan at the contact and you want to chase it, feel him pressed between your thighs, but clearly Carmy has other ideas.

He reaches under your arms and pulls you up to stand with him, letting his hands continue their journey down your sides to reach your waist. All you have time to do is gasp as he hoists you off your feet, and he’s already walking towards your floor-length window as you desperately try to wrap your legs around his waist. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe, the hand not holding you up pushing deep into your hair and curling strands around his fingers so he can pull your head back, press more kisses to the hollow of your throat.

For a dizzying moment, you can see the lights of Chicago upside down, but you manage to pull your head up just before your back hits the cold glass. You hiss at the chill against your bared skin and Carmy runs a hot palm around to your back in apology even as his tongue continues its insistent sweeps against your own.

You barely register the soft clink of his belt, the push and rustle of fabric between you until his cock is pressed close, the only thing keeping it from filling you your own stupid lacy underwear.

With a frustrated groan, Carmy gently lowers you until your feet sink into the carpet, but he still gives you no room to move, pressing you into the misted-up glass as if he can’t tear his body from yours.

“Carmy,” you pant, unsure what you’re asking, but you know he understands when he grabs your upper arm, spins you around to face the view. The glass is warmer now, but still cold enough that the press of your barely-concealed nipples to its surface makes you moan as you hear Carmy kneel, feel him sliding your panties down your legs.

He doesn’t even let them reach your ankles before he’s up again, kissing his way along your spine as he goes, and finally, finally, the head of his cock nestles in where it needs to be.

Its hot and heavy presence has you pushing your hips back, wanting to feel the glorious slide of him, lose yourself in the moment he splits you, and all you can see, eyes half-slitted in pleasure, are the glittering lights of the city below. You live pretty high up and the lights are low enough that none of the busy pedestrians below should see, but all it would really take is a glance up and an observant eye. To see your breasts pressed against the glass, Carmy’s possessive hands gripping your hips as he finally drives into you. Even from this distance, you imagine the pleasure on your own face and your walls flutter around Carmy until he growls, pulls your hands from where they were flat against the window into a bind behind you.

There is nothing kind and gentle about this moment, no give in Carmy’s body as he fucks into you, and you revel in it. Let him take his pain and translate it into pleasure through your body. Let him take and take and take until he has nothing left to give, and let the world see him doing it. Let them see what’s his.

These thoughts alone have you teetering, desperate for a few more strokes, but the surprise of Carmy reaching around to draw lazy circles over your clit as he snarls, “Fucking look at you, look how good you take me,” has you seizing up instantly. You can faintly hear your own surprised cry through the buzzing in your ears, and Carmy’s gasps as he feels you pulsate around him, but you only fully come back to yourself when you press your forehead against the blessedly cool glass.

The strength of your orgasm is enough that your legs are visibly shaking now, and without a word, Carmy bends to scoop up your lower half and pulls you in, cradling you across his front. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm your breathing as you push your face into his chest, but before you can even begin to get your head straight, you feel soft sheets on your back as he lowers you to the bed.

He sinks down beside you, and all his desperation from a moment ago is gone as his body finally relaxes. He’s still hard and straining towards you, but the light has dimmed in his eyes, so when you reach for him, it’s to run a hand across his cheek, to bring his eyes to yours. When you move towards him, it’s to curl your legs with his, to press your forehead against his and settle his breathing with your own.

People think Carmy is so used to taking shit that it doesn’t hurt him anymore, but you know. You know how each word drives so deep that he doesn’t know how to take good anymore, how he invites the anger and the aggression of a kitchen into his soul because the alternative is realising that all the shit he’s been through is too awful, too devastating to reconcile. To keep feeling it, so he has no time to wonder what his life would be without it.

You see the weakness and the fear and the vulnerability, and you know how he absorbs the feeling and translates it into his work, how he uses it to fuel him, how he turns the criticism and the insults and the hatred into being better, being perfect, doing a good job.

“You are so wonderful, Carmy,” you murmur, and when he tries to look away, you hold his head still. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. Shit, not really anything.” You’re silent, and he sighs as he caves under the pressure of your gaze. “Back when I was in New York, you remember that chef I told you about?”

You nod, because you know you can’t say anything remotely okay about that particular chef.

“He had this thing, about pasta. Thought he was some kind of expert because he spent, like, three months with Massimo Bottura. We had to boil water from cold every time, for every single batch of pasta we served, and there was this exact amount of salt we had to add. It wasn’t like a teaspoon, it was seven point three grams for every hundred of pasta. And he could fucking tell if you were off, he barely had to taste it. One time I saw him smell somebody’s pasta and tell them they were off by point two.” Carmy’s voice is shaking, and you move your thumb along his cheekbone slowly, calmly, giving him something to root himself to. Remind him he’s not there.

“And I was thinking about it while I was cooking the bucatini, and it’s like he was in the room again, saying the same shit he always did. Watching over my shoulder as I added the salt, and it made me so mad,” Carmy mutters, breaths coming in pants now. “And I didn’t even think, I just added like way too much salt. Enough to fuckin’ ruin it, ‘cos I just wanted to see him choke on it. And then I sent it out.”

You don’t take your eyes from his face as you curl one hand down to straighten the fingers of his, to stop the nails he’s digging deep into his palm from cutting into his skin.

“And of course it got sent back, and Richie apologised and comped their bill, and they didn’t care. But, like, I just sabotaged my own restaurant. My own reputation, becuase I can’t stop fuckin’ thinking about salting pasta,” Carmy finishes in a rush, and he finally meets your eyes.

“Carmy, you’re working in a kitchen every day. It’s no surprise you remember other kitchens you’ve been in, and the kind of behaviour you’ve had to endure. But it’s not that kitchen anymore. This is your kitchen we’re talking about, your space. When you look over your shoulder, he’s not there anymore. Syd is, and she’s got your back. We’re not some pristine, sterile team with no heart. Richie’s there.” You feel a surge of emotion so strong for the brilliant, vulnerable man in front of you that you push your face into his shoulder, hard enough that he has to steady himself from falling back onto the bed. His other hand comes up to card loosely through your hair, and you suppress a soft noise of comfort to finish with, “I’m there.”

“I know, baby,” he responds, pulling you closer until you’re practically curled into his lap. “And I think it’ll get easier, it’s already easier. I just don’t think I’ll ever entirely stop sabotaging myself. I’m not like the food I make, I’m not composed and-and, perfect. I’m not, uh, not always good at stuff.”

“Okay, but you’re good plenty of the time,” you whisper, looking up at him. You smile as he glances down, catches your eye. “I could go on for days about the stuff you’re good at.”

“Oh yeah?” Carmy murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, down and round the edge of your face to the shell of your ear. You shiver instinctively, press into the feeling.

“You’re good at that. Good at getting me out of control,” and your voice is already shaking.

“You’re not out of control, babe. I’ve got you. You’re mine,” Carmy is muttering inbetween kisses as he rolls you onto your back, pins your arms to your sides with his legs and begins to fully slide off your lingerie, slowly, carefully. His hands are, as always, steady. You remember all the times you’ve watched him roll a cigarette, piece together edible art as flames lick at his chef’s whites, and you can’t remember a time you’ve seen them shake.

From the eye of the storm he’s creating in you, you watch as he slides down the bed, skimming his lips across your trembling thighs until he sits back, and moves his hands to your knees.

You can almost feel the pleasure it gives him as, at the lightest touch from him, you part your legs, let him see what he does to you. What he has done. When he growls, you realise he can see remnants of your earlier escapade against the window at your entrance, his come marking you.

When Carmy dips his finger inside you, your hips jerk towards him, but he holds them down with one hand. His finger delves deep for a moment, and then leaves you suddenly, but before you can protest, he brings his hand to your face, offers you the digit. You’re entranced by the silent command in his eyes, and with no hesitation, you open your mouth and let Carmy’s come-covered finger slide inside, press deep towards the back of your throat. When you swallow, the bitterness makes you moan, envision being on your knees for Carmy, his fingers twined so deep into your hair it hurts, feeling his white-hot heat at the back of your throat.

It breaks whatever tension was stretched taut between you, and Carmy wraps his arms around your legs, pulls your body towards him and lowers his face between your thighs. For a moment, he teases you, nibbling at the juncture where your leg curves into your hip, skimming his teeth across the bone, but you know he’s secretly just as impatient as you are, and when he takes his first tender lick across your clit, he moans even louder than you do.

Giving head is an art for Carmy, and feels like a privilege to you. You’ve seen him enjoy food in the kitchen, give somebody that blown-away glance that they’ve worked their whole lives to see, but he never takes more than one bite.

But this, with you, as you watch him devour you whole...It’s the only meal you’ve ever watched him finish.

Tongue swirling delicately across your center, breaking for hungry kisses to your thighs as his hands grasp at any inch of you he can reach, you can’t help the words that spill from you, “yes, yes, Carmy, you’re so good, you make me feel so good, my good boy, please-“, but you can’t continue as he slides two fingers deep inside your aching pussy, so deep you don’t ever want him to move.

At this point in the erotic novels you read during your lunch break (which, if Fak were to find them, would spell the end of your career), the heroine says something about how it feels like hours pass with her lover between her legs. But this is real life, and all Carmy has to do is mutter, “Finish for me baby, finish for me,” for you to come embarrassingly quickly.

You’re practically incoherent on the comedown, and all you can summon the strength to do is pull him into you, press kisses to his forehead and mumble over and over how fucking amazing he makes you feel.

“If you lose everything else, Carmy, if you ever think there isn’t a thing in this world you’re any good at, just know that you are a god at giving head,” you pant eventually, and when he pushes his face into your neck, you can feel his smile there.

For a moment more, you just enjoy the press of his body against yours, revel in the sweat and slick between you. It dawns on you slowly just how slick it feels, and you gasp as you realise-

“Carmy, did you-?”

Carmy laughs into your skin, tracing one hand across your chest idly until you shiver. “Yeah. You, uh, you were moaning and telling me how good I was and…it was hot.”

You laugh with him breathlessly, still kind of in awe at how well you fit after all this time, how at home you feel with him. “Well, I hope that made your bad day a little better.”

Carmy is silent for a second before he murmurs, “You have no idea what you do for me,” and you can see the shine of his eyes in the glitter of the city lights filtering through your window. “There can never be a bad day if I end it right here, in this bed, in your arms.”

You would reply, but he’s kissing you into silence before you can, and you wonder for a moment if any words will ever need to be said between you and Carmy again, or whether you can communicate all the fear, all the anger, all the love, just with kisses and touch and his lips against yours. But eventually, as you slip into sleep with his body twined around yours, you decide that tongues were made for more than just talking.

[written-in-flowers]

Recording in Session: Han x Male!Reader

Pairing: Han Jisung x Male!Reader | Side pairings: Lee Know x Han, Chan x Male!Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff | AU: idolverse, ninth member au

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Considering Chan's strict "No-Studio-Sex' rule, Han takes you somewhere that doesn't have such restrictive, authoritarian rules.

Tags: polyamory, open relationship, idol!reader, sub!han, dom!reader, dom/sub undertones, studio sex, dry humping, light spanking, sloppy blowjobs, rough blowjobs, throat fucking, face fucking, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, facials, cum swallowing, han loves cum and isn't afraid to show it

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictitious and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect or label the members of Stray Kids in any way. The events within never took place. Thank you. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Taglist: @james-is-here @onementally-unstabel-kid @omg-lexiloveyou @drinkingrumandcocacola @diverseinterests @kenaicantcommunicate @galaxy4489 (let me know below if you want to be tagged!

Here's What You Missed on Newbie!

Next on Newbie!

****

“Where are you guys going after?”

“I don’t know yet. We haven’t picked a place. You?”

“He wants to go to this sushi place near his dorm. He said he knows I’ve been craving it, and now he is too.” 

You both sat next to one another on the couch. Han scrolled away on his phone, likely researching the sushi restaurant, while you looked for places on yours. Recording days usually took a while, so you knew you’d have a long wait ahead of you for Chan. You guessed you could look up places until your turn in the booth came. The idea of being alone with Chan was satisfying enough, but you supposed you needed some shared activity or experience. Nothing too romantic, since you’re only friends, but nothing boring. 

“So, how’s it going?” Han asked, the music through the speakers covering his voice from Chan. 

“How’s what going?” you replied, finding an interesting barbeque restaurant. 

“You and, you know,” he nodded over to Chan at the desk, going over a line with Felix in the booth. 

“It’s fine.”

“Just ‘fine’?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I figured since you’ve been with us six months now,” he began, “I thought you guys might’ve finally stopped messing around and confronted your feelings for each other.”

“There are no ‘feelings’,” you said, though not very convincingly. “We’re friends, that’s all.”

“Friends who go on dates every other week and see each other all the time.”

“It’s not a ‘date’. We just like hanging out together.”

“Alone? In romantic settings?”

“They’re not romantic,” You thought about the seaside bar you’d both gone to a while back. It’d been so lovely, and it was open late. Also, it was not too far away, so you wouldn’t have trouble getting there. 

“So, you’re telling me that you don’t think lunch picnics under a tree by the river isn’t romantic?”

“It can be platonic. Not everything needs to be romantic.”

“That’s how things started between Minho-hyung and I,” he said, “And here we are: Dating for three years and living together now. Then again, we were made for each other, so it was going to work out anyway.”  He gave a sly smile, “If you and Chan don’t become a thing, you can be our third. I would love having more than Dom.”

“Pfft, I’m hardly Dom material,” you scoffed. 

“The way you railed Hyunjin and Jeongin says otherwise,” he snickered. “They say your dick is life-changing.”

You laughed recalling Hyunjin’s words, and said, “They’re exaggerating. I’m not some kind of sex god.”

“Who’s a sex god?” Minho walked into the room, confused by the last words he’d heard. 

“You,” Jisung grinned playfully, puckering his lips for Minho to kiss them. “I told YN-hyung that if he wanted he could be our third.”

“Aren’t all the members technically our third? And fourth? And fifth? And sixth and seventh?” he asked, amused as he gave Jisung a second kiss before taking the seat beside him on the couch. 

“Yeah, but YN-hyung would be special,” Han said with a wink at you. 

“I don’t know,” Minho said with jealous eyes, “I don’t think I can compete with the anaconda he’s got in his pants.”

“It’s not that big,” you defended once again, earning laughs from the couple. 

“I’d still like to ride it one day,” Han leaned closer to you, keeping his voice low under the music. “Jeongin said he’s only ever gotten pounded like that by Chan-hyung.” He put his hand on your thigh, “I want to get wrecked by you next.” 

“Jisung-ah, we’re in the studio,” Minho warned, looking at Felix in the booth and listening to his last lines. 

“What? I’m not doing anything.” 

“You’ve been a tease this entire week,” he replied, holding Jisung by the chin. “Don’t make me put you on the horse again.”

“The horse?”

“It’s a sex machine I put him on when he’s misbehaved,” Minho shrugged casually. “I sit him there and edge him with it. I sometimes whip or spank him while he’s on it, but I usually don’t.” He pouted at Jisung, “And you don’t want me to put you on that again, do you? How many times did I edge you before not letting you cum at all?”

“Four.”

“If you keep pushing the no-studio-sex boundary,” he said, forehead pressed to Jisung’s, “I’ll make it six.” 

You saw Jisung gulp before Minho kissed him. “Maybe YN-yah can help me sometime,” he suggested, seeing you watch them. “He can be a Dom when he wants to be one.”

“I’m not a real Dom.” 

“No, you’re not, are you?” Minho asked, a flirty glint in his eyes. He glanced over to where Chan sat, then said loudly, “You’re a good boy who needs a daddy to take care of you.”

“YNie, you’re next,” Chan said, not acknowledging what Minho said. 

“Hyung,” Jisung called to Felix when he stepped out of the booth, “Is YN-hyung a Dom or a Sub?-”

“-Why is this important?-”

“-He strikes me as more of a Switch, honestly,” Felix said, pushing back hair from his face. “I like guys who can do both,” he winked at you. 

“-You said I’m next, hyung?” You stood up from your seat and went right to the booth. “Can we go line-by-line, if that’s okay?” 

“Sure,” Chan said, also wanting to move from the topic. 

You set the microphone to your height, and pushed the conversation away. You learned during your time with Stray Kids that Chan took the ‘no studio sex’ rule very seriously. He didn’t mind it in individual studios, but when it came to recording together, it was prohibited. He wanted everyone focused on recording well, not getting into each other’s pants. Of course, the members care about producing a good album as much as him, so they mostly flirted if anything. You also believed part of it was the possibility someone in the company not privy to the “secret” would walk in on it. You understood why, and followed it to avoid ending up on the receiving end of a Leader Scolding. You didn’t want Chan upset with you or believing you really couldn’t control yourself. 

Though, Han regularly tested this restraint. 

“-Mouth hung open, don’t know where to look,” you sang into the microphone gently, getting into the music playing in your headphones. 

“Go a bit deeper,” Chan said, his voice coming through when the music stopped. “It sounds too light.”

“Okay,” you nodded. The music started again, and you sang in a slightly deeper tone, “Mouth hung open, don’t know where to look.”

“Not bad, not bad,” Chan praised, “Let’s do one more.” 

“Mouth hung open, don’t know where to look.” 

“Okay, yes, let’s go with that one,” he declared, and you agreed. “Let’s give the next line a listen.”

“Okay,” you said. Han’s voice came through as the song started, and you looked at your notes as you sang right after, “We act the way we think, the way we feel.”

“Nice,” Chan said as you stopped. “Let’s keep that one and go again.” 

Chan’s praise always made you feel good. Since working with the group, you felt your skills had improved much more. Chan said you were always good, but you disagreed. You worked on your lines with Chan, with Han and Minho giving their opinions from time to time. It felt productive. It felt good being a part of something, truly part of it and not looking from the outside. You rarely recorded with the previous groups since you hardly had any lines in your own songs. So, being there with the members felt exciting each time. Also, yes, Chan being the one who praised you made you warm inside. 

“Great!” Chan said on the last line, “Really great.”

“Thanks,” you said with a small bow, smiling wide at the success and relieved to be done so quickly. 

You picked up your song notes, then walked out of the booth. Minho stood up from the couch, patting your back as he passed you into the booth next. Han sat on the couch on his phone. You guessed the couple had plans like you and Chan, and wanted to be done as soon as possible. You took Minho’s seat, sinking into the plush leather couch as Minho’s warm ups from the speakers. Usually, there’d be another producer present, but today appeared to be a special case. You took up your phone, starting to scroll for a new place to try when a message came in. 

“You’re such a good singer, hyung,” Han’s message read, the rapper curling up on the couch and leaning against you. 

Considering he texted it rather than say it out loud, something sensual was sure to follow. “Thanks. I try,” you texted back, heat in your cheeks. 

“Maybe being a good singer means your moans sound good too.” 

“How did I know you’d say something like that? Lol” you laughed to yourself, shaking your head. 

“Because I’ve been teasing you all week.” 

He wasn’t lying. Han Jisung had been teasing you all week. Ever since you returned from Milan, when everyone saw you with Hyunjin, you’d received more photos and videos than before. It started with small flirty glances and blushing smiles in the practice room. In the studio, he’d lay his head on your lap or find excuses to cuddle close to you so your bodies touched. During photo or video shoots, he’d make sure you saw glimpses of his petite, lean body as he dressed. In the car on your way to an important event, he’d sit beside you instead of Minho and touch your thigh. Never too brazen. Never too obvious. Despite his lust for you, Han managed to keep it under the radar better than other members. 

“Minho-hyung really doesn’t mind?” you texted back, giving a glance to the man in the recording booth. 

“Not when it’s the other members,” he said. “He’s the one who helped me take those pictures I sent you. Did you like them? 😉” 

“Of course,” you shuddered remembering the photos of Han tied up and gagged on his bed. He’d been sweaty, hickies on his neck, teary eyed with cum on his stomach. “You knew I would.” 

“You know you can do that to me whenever you like,” his free hand gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. 

“Chan-hyung is right there!” you replied, nodding over to Chan, who was too focused on helping Minho to notice. “Studio sex isn’t allowed. He’ll get super pissed.” 

“He’s busy,” he responded. “It’s not like I’m blowing you 😜” 

‘But you’d like to be, I’m sure 😜”

“Duh! Have you seen how much you cum? I want all of it.” 

You gulped when his hand went further up your thigh. “Every drop,” he added. “All of it in my mouth and down my throat.” 

You’d decided long ago that rappers had a great disadvantage in dirty talking. 

“Remember the last video I sent?” 

“How can I forget? You looked so pretty riding that tentacle toy and cumming all over yourself.”

“I was thinking about you using my throat like a toy, just fucking it however you want until you cum.”

“Jisung-ah.”

You withheld a gasp when his hand found your crotch. He stopped texting you, and focused on your soft cock. Your eyes glanced over to Chan and Minho, who still somehow had not noticed you two on the couch. A part of you knew Chan would be disappointed in you, but Han’s hand felt so warm and his fingers knew exactly where to go. Through your gray shorts, he put enough pressure so you felt his fingers on him. You gripped your phone tightly, seeing his hand slowly slide up and down your length. When his hand dipped to your balls, you shifted to rest them fully in his palm. Your eyes met Jisung’s, and he smirked mischievously, cheeks puffing slightly around his cheekbones. He knew what he was doing to you, and it drove you insane. 

“I know you two aren’t doing what I think you’re doing,” Chan’s voice broke through your thoughts. You two immediately pulled apart. “You know the rules,” he said, as he wrote down notes for the next verse. 

“We have no idea what you’re talking about, hyung,” Han said innocently, removing his hand from your lap. “YN-hyung and I are only talking about the new song.”

“If you two want to fuck so bad,” he said, “Go do it somewhere else.”

“What’s going on?” Minho asked from inside the booth. “Am I done?”

“Your boyfriend can’t keep his hands to himself in the studio,” Chan answered, pressing the speaker button to talk. 

“Hannie-yah,” Minho’s voice came laced with a warning, “You know better.”

“But, we’re both bored waiting on you two,” you said, trying to help Jisung out of trouble. “We weren’t going to go farther than touching, we swear.”

“Yeah, only until you guys finished for the day,” said Han. 

“You both know we have seven other members to record,” Chan said, “And Changbin hasn’t shown up yet and neither has anyone else. We’d have to play what we’ve done so far, and see if there are any changes to be made tomorrow. You both know that. I’ve told you more than once that studio sex isn’t allowed.”

“We can go to my studio then,” Han said to you, brown eyes heavy with lust. “There’s no stupid sex rule there.”

“It’s not a stupid rule. We would get almost nothing done when all of you are so fucking horny all the time,” Chan said, sounding agitated. 

“Hyung, don’t be so tough on them,” Minho said. “Jisung hasn’t been fucked properly in a while, so he’s all needy and stuff. YNie would be doing me a favor,” he then chuckled. “I think that whole alpha-omega thing is real, because he’s like a dog in heat sometimes.”

“Am not!” argued Jisung. 

“So, I shouldn’t tell everyone here how I woke up to you humping my leg?” 

You stifled a giggle. “I wasn’t humping your leg,” Han said, arms crossed, “I was just snuggling and got hard.” 

“Tell that to my pants,” Minho snorted. 

“As much as I’d love to watch you two go at it like rabbits,” Chan interrupted the conversation, “It’s work time.” 

You and Han shared a glance, then you both stood from the couch. Han walked into the recording booth where he cornered Minho, while you walked over to Chan. 

“You can always take a break,” you suggested, your lingering arousal stirring in you. “You work so much, hyung. You deserve a long, relaxing break.”

Chan snickered, clicking around on the screen to replay Minho’s recording. “Tempting, but not today, YNie. You’ll have to settle for another one of our bottoms again.” 

“But, hyung,” you slid your hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of him through his black shirt, “I haven’t been topped in a long time.” His shoulders flexed against your rolling thumbs, and you worked out the small knots you found. You bent down to his ear, “Please? Just this one time?” You started towards his neck, then to his back. The low groan he gave sent shivers to the arousal inside you. “Minho can have Jisung, and you could have me. I’ve been dying to be pounded by you.”

Chan then turned his chair around, and pulled you to him by the waist. He remained dangerously close to your crotch, looking up at you from your hips. You hoped he might at least kiss you. With how his eyes scanned over your face to your lips, and back to your eyes, you thought he might finally do it. He brought you closer, inches away from him before he said:

“I said not today, YN-yah,” he said, gently. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“A virtue I’m slowly losing my grip on,” you replied, bending down to his level. “I’ll get you someday, Leader-nim.” 

Chan stuck his tongue into his cheek to repress a smile at the name. “Sooner than you think if you keep calling me that,” he said, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’d love to hear you moan it for me.”

“Oh, Leader-nim,” you said, faking one for him. “Leader-nim, that feels so good. Don’t stop,” you put your lips to his ear, “Leader, make me yours. Pound my ass until I can’t walk straight. Use my throat like a fleshlight and make me choke on your huge cock.”

He bit his tongue as you teased him. “Damn,” he sighed, “It’s a shame I’m working right now. I’d love to do to you what you’ve been doing to all the bottoms around here.”

He turned his chair around, and you grunted with your arms crossed. You turned to see Han receiving the same gentle rejection, a kiss promising more much later. He came back to you, sliding his arms around your middle. “Looks like we’ll have to settle for each other,” he pouted, head on your shoulder. “Since our boyfriends have no interest in fucking us themselves.”

“I’m recording, Jisung!”

“He used to love me,” he continued as if he didn’t hear Minho, playfulness in his tone. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I’ll put you on the horse, I swear. Keep it up.” 

“I don’t mind taking his place,” you said, turning in his arms and embracing him. Your hands went down his back to cup his ass, “I think I’d like waking up to you leaking all over my leg.” 

“I’m right here, you know,” Minho said as Chan laughed. 

“You can wake up to all kinds of things with me,” Han said, tracing your Adam's apple to the base of your throat. “A good fuck is a great way to start your morning,” he leaned closer to you, nose gently nuzzling yours. “And with a dick like yours just inches away from me?” he reached down to your bulge again, smiling when you gasped, “I don’t think I’d be able to control myself around you.”

“You already can’t now,” you laughed, tracing his jawline to his lips. “You jumped on me the second you got up close to me.”

“I really was trying to hold back. It’s just…I was rewatching Hyunjin’s video and I couldn't stop picturing you doing all of that to me too,” he said. “I had no idea you could do that.” His hand traced the outline of your dick through your pants, shifting when you began massaging his ass. 

“You two are such sluts,” Chan laughed. “Go to Han’s studio and do that there. This is work time.” 

“Would you like us to film it for you, hyung?” you asked, holding Jisung close and both of you looking at him. “We can watch it together later.”

He hesitated, paused over his work before saying, “If it comes to mind…”

You and Jisung giggled before leaving the studio. The exhilaration built back up following Han down the hallway to his personal studio. Your eyes raked up and down his body. He wore a longer shirt that hid his petite waist and lean figure from you. His pants were a big baggier, so you knew they’d be easier to slip off. The suppression you’d kept on yourself slowly unwound before you reached Han’s studio; it threatened to break through and pounce on him once you passed the threshold into quietness. 

“You have no idea,” Han brought you to him by the hand, a familiar lustful glint in his eyes, “How long I’ve been wanting this.”

“I think I have some idea,” you replied, hands sliding around his waist to his ass. You suddenly hated his pants and wanted them off. The thick material kept you from feeling the perky cheeks underneath. “The stuff you send me is a clear indication of that in my opinion,” you chuckled. 

“That’s only a fraction of it,” he said, leaning closer. “Trust me.”

He pressed his hands to your torso, their touch soft against your muscles and slid upwards. You cupped his cheek and brought him in for a kiss. It started with light smacks of your lips, the occasional flick of the bottom before being caught in between both. The teasing brushes of his tongue ignited something in you; your hands went down to his backside again, trying to feel for the curves you’d seen bouncing on toys for days now. His own hands went up your abdomen, tracing small patterns before reaching your chest. The brief touch of his cotton shirt to your bare stomach sparked you. Your kiss getting deeper, your hunger for him became more obvious. The strain in your shorts grew and pressed into the fabric, a small bump starting to form again. When you brought him closer, Jisung’s bulge pushed against yours and you both moaned. You held him more securely once his hips started grinding on you.

“Come here, baby.”

You sat down on the sofa nearby and he straddled your lap right away. Your hands on his thighs, you growled at the obstacle his pants became. Jisung, arms around your neck, brought you back in for another kiss as he continued rocking his hips. You caressed his thighs up and down, the tension in them flexing underneath the denim material. His cock pushing into yours, the heavy material weighing on your thin one, you couldn’t help humping him back. The faint scent of cologne stayed on his skin, becoming more obvious when you kissed down his neck. His body, lithe and slender, fit perfectly in your arms and responded to your touches right away. Minho was a lucky man. You’d be spent too if you had Jisung in your bed all the time. 

His grinding became more hurried when you reached underneath his shirt to the hardening nipples. You groaned listening to him whine at a particularly hard pinch, not out of pain but pleasure. When he bunched his jeans up to tighten around his groin, his bulge instantly became more apparent on his thigh. Thankfully, once you unbuckled and unzipped him, your hands fit perfectly inside.

“Hyung…” he breathed once your hands grabbed his ass over his boxers. You squeezed and pulled them apart to push some fabric between the two cheeks. The thin, smooth material made it easier to feel his tight hole. “Oh god…”

“Keep grinding,” you said, guiding him along your length.

He continued kissing you, tugging on your lower lip with a soft lick right afterwards. He pushed his narrow hips to yours in slow circles, the movement keeping you both together longer. His soft moans joined yours, the two of you unable to stop once you started. Someone could walk in right then, and you’d keep going. His body became addicting. The hardness of his body in your arms tempted you into feeling more than his ass. All the restraint you carried rushed through floodgates, and you wanted nothing more than to bend Han over the sofa arm, pants at his knees. The air shifted when you rolled Han into his back, and started sliding off his pants and shoes with them. Desire burned in his innocent eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his growing erection.

“No, no,” you said, gently pushing his hand away, “That’s my job.”

You rested between his thighs, laying on top of him as you went back to grinding. Hands above his head, Han surrendered himself over to you. You kissed up his body from hips to chest as you lifted his shirt to just above his nipples. His body twitched at the pleasure you were giving him; he couldn’t stop gyrating his hips to your throbbing cock. The constant friction between the two of you drove you wild. Every so often, you reached between you to rub him with your hand which made him squirm. He felt so good. You couldn’t get enough of him. You never could get enough of any of them. No matter which member you had, you always found yourself craving more and more. Han’s angelic moans, high and needy, became a song you could never forget. His hard nipples in your mouth became a focus point to his pleasure; you couldn’t stop yourself from nibbling and sucking them. You groaned into the wrinkled skin, your dick jerking in your shorts and boxers. When you knelt up, you held your boner down to keep grinding on the outline pressing into Jisung’s boxers.

“You look so pretty like this,” you groaned, taking in his long body lying beneath you. Arms still above his head, he’d crossed his wrists as if tied together and gripped the cushion at the end. “All needy and horny,” you slid yourself up and down his length before giving his tip a gentle rub. “I jerked off to those videos of you tied up and toys inside you so many times. I kept picturing it being me making you cum like that.”

“Me too,” he whined. “Too bad I don’t keep any here,” he grinned through another moan, “Then you could use it on me as much as you want.”

“But, my dick is just as good,” you said, trembling somewhat as you dragged your balls over his cock and back down. The smooth motion stirred the pot between you. A small black spot showed where his tip was, and that’s what you focused on. “Don’t you think so?”

“Hyung…”

“Yes?”

“Let me suck your dick, please,” he begged through a quiet voice. “I want you in my mouth…in my throat. I’ve been-been dying to suck you dry. Please…”

The mere act of him begging to blow you had you tugging your pants down. Excitement lit inside Han’s eyes as he positioned himself on the floor in front of you. The sight of him below, round brown eyes gazing up at you pleadingly and lips already parting, could not have been a prettier sight. He pulled your pants down to your ankles, running his hands up your thighs to the center of your boxers. Your thighs clenched at the light fingers grazing your inner sides, and you sighed when they slipped under the leg holes. Jisung pressed his lips right to your cock, brushing over the fabric and nuzzling the hardened shaft. Shaky breaths escaped you every time he reached the sensitive side of your tip and hum softly around it. His fingers continued massaging you, thumbs pressing to the perineum and your balls every so often. When he heard you moan particularly loud at this, he kept on doing it. He kissed down to them for a moment, giving a soft moan before coming back up. You gripped the cushion underneath you as you watched the younger member fondle and worship your dick. Once he found a wet pot, Jisung flicked his tongue over it. 

Then, he carefully pulled down the front of your underwear. You whined at the fabric sliding against your cock, springing it upwards towards Jisung’s face. The longing became clear on his face, but he didn’t dare put you in his mouth yet. Tongue poking out over his bottom lip, soft breaths ghosted over your tip as he began rubbing you in his hand. His smooth fingers grazed over the squishy head in each stroke, creating more tightness in your belly, and your body was on fire. The fact he kept himself positioned just under you, staring at your dick as he worked you, had you reeling for more. 

“Your dick is perfect,” he said, swallowing the saliva building in his mouth. “It’s big where it counts.”

“It’s not…not like that.”

“It is to me,” he replied with a laugh, smiling when you shuddered at a soft kiss. “It’s perfect for sucking just like Minho and Chan’s cocks.”

One hand holding the base, he used the other to languidly stroke you. You wriggled in your seat at the firm squeeze he gave both ends, and dug your nails further into the sofa. It was over when he started whirling the tip of his tongue on the tip’s edge in time with his strokes.

“You like that?” he teased, continuing to do it a bit faster.

“Yes, fuck yes,” you said between gritted teeth, the pleasure tight in your groin. “Keep going like that…There’s a good boy.”

Being called a ‘good boy’ struck a chord in Jisung and he slid you over his outstretched tongue. It went in so easily. You groaned at the light sensation of his tongue on the sensitive skin, rubbing the veins and thick head. Once he latched his mouth to your shaft, the both of you moaned together. You slipped a hand into his hair, dyed a grayish white and much longer, and simply held it as he went further. He held onto your thighs as his face planted into your lap, nose brushing your pubic bone and chin right underneath your dick. The pressure from his throat and his hollow cheeks tempted you into going further. You could sit there enjoying his mouth forever. The obscene slurping he did when he pulled you from his throat couldn’t have sounded better. He did not even withdraw completely. He kept you in his mouth despite the drool coming from the sides of his mouth. Whenever he did, he still kept the very tip in his mouth to spit over before going back down. Soft cries hummed around it, muffled by your thickness as you continued gradually sliding in and out of his mouth. He didn’t protest when you fastened your grip on his hair and held him in place. Your hips pushed upwards into his face, reaching his throat each time.

"Look up at me,” you said, angling him further down to see him teary eyed and messy. You took yourself out to tap your wet cock on his cheeks and mouth, the other not hesitating to lick at you whenever you hit him. “Greedy,” you smiled, pushing into his mouth.

He brought your thighs onto his shoulders and angled himself further downwards. You locked your legs behind his back and started using them to bring him closer. Unable to get out of your grasp, Jisung could only kneel there and take your cock in his mouth. His sucking lips became a toy to use. Tears filled the corners of his eyes each time you forced him to the hilt, holding him there several seconds as he choked and sputtered around you. Like before, you barely let him off you. You gave him a minute to breathe before pushing him back in with your legs, locking him in place with your thighs.

“You love this, don’t you?” you asked in heavy breaths, hand curling in his soft hair. You chuckled softly when he nodded in confirmation, sucking you even harder as an answer. “Good to know I have a good place to dump all my cum,” you shoved your dick fully to his throat again, “Because that’s just what you are, huh? A mindless cum dump for everyone to use, right?” He moaned again in agreement, shaking his head with you in his mouth and vibrating it with another moan. “I’d pump my load in your throat every night if I could.”

“Please…” he said, voice muffled by the inch he breathed again, lips connected by several strings of fluids. “Use my mouth whenever you want.”

“Does that go for your tight ass too?” you asked, smacking his face with your wet cock again. “Seeing you put all those dildos in your ass makes it so tempting.”

“Yes,” he said before letting you push back into his mouth. “Fuck my ass,” he muttered as you started fucking his mouth again. “Please, fuck my ass. I want you deep in me.” 

“Bend over the couch then,” you said, “And show me that pretty hole of yours.”

Getting onto the couch, Jisung yanked down his pants and boxers to his knees like you’d imagined. He arched his back and spread his cheeks apart, his hole clenching for something to grab. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when your tongue slid over it. Small licks around the entrance caused small whimpers and grinding into your face. You gave each cheeks a sharp smack and a hard squeeze as you rolled your tongue further and flicked it around. His entrance lubed, you wasted no time in sliding one finger inside, moaning at the walls swallowing you and the back starting to arch to meet it. You kept him still with one hand while your finger gently worked him open. Adding a second, you scissored the hole as you plunged knuckle deep. Jisung shook and held onto the sofa arm, face buried in the plush suede.

“Your dick…” Jisung said through a strained whine. “Please, hyung, can I have your dick now?”

“But, this is so much fun,” you sneered, adding a third finger that made him writhe. “Your hole is so tight and I love seeing how you react when I go deep like this,” you emphasized it by pushing all three fingers to his core and watching him moan into the arm. “I’ve grown to love teasing all our pretty bottoms,” you continued fingering him, pulling out to put your fingers in sideways and palm facing downwards. “You each sound so sweet when you’re under me.”

“That’s because you’re amazing,” he said with a breathy laugh, meeting your hand halfway. “I want you to ruin me like you did with Hyunjin and Innie.”

“Oh yeah?” You finally removed your fingers, leaving Han empty and wanting for a few seconds, “You want me to fuck you stupid too?”

“Yes, please!”

“Well, if that’s what little Hannie wants,” you kissed the edge of his ear, “Then hyung should be nice and give it to you, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said hurriedly, feeling your tip resting on him.

You chuckled at his eagerness, loving the effect you appeared to be having on him. Chan would probably advise caution by now, since you could be discovered any second. But, how could you care about that when Han’s ass hugged you so tightly? The bumpy walls milked you in every stroke, and it became harder to maintain control over yourself. Having him massaging your length, his high-pitched moans mingling with the sounds of skin slapping skin, made your mouth water. You forced yourself to focus on Jisung: running your hands up and down his back, grabbing his hair to pull his head back or smacking his tight ass in hard slaps. The small bits of pain seemed to make Jisung moan louder, and become more desperate. So, you dragged your nails on his skin, not too hard but enough for him to feel it; you spanked his ass until it was a light pink color.

Jisung became more desperate when you pulled him to your chest and reached around his waist. He really was hard. You could barely squeeze it at times, working it with only your index and thumb. Jisung became a moaning, mindless mess as you pleasured him. Every time your hand reached the base, your dick went fully inside him. This drove the already sensitive Jisung even further into bliss. Precum spilled from the tip, and you used it to lube him up. The slick sounds matched your snapping hips, working alongside the moans escaping both of you.

“Minho-hyung is so lucky,” you said in his ear, jerking and fucking him harder. “Getting to-to fuck you like this every day.”

“You-You can too!”

“Oh yeah? I can?”

“Yes, yes! However you want! Wherever!”

You put this to the test. After a bit of time on the couch, you manhandled him onto the floor where you ripped off his pants and lifted his legs into the air. Han clawed at the floor, at the bottom of the couch and his chair nearby as overwhelming pleasure took over. Sensing his orgasm, you didn’t deny it from him. You pumped his dripping cock as you kept going, watching in awe as he quivered and whined in his climax. Thick, hot droplets leaked from the head, mixing together as you continued stroking him, and went over your fingers. He used the end of his shirt to muffle the loud, suffocating cries your cock produced. As he settled down, chest rising and falling in every breath, you didn’t stop. Like with Hyunjin, a hard orgasm was of no significance. You’d finish when you both felt like it.

“Fuck me here, hyung!”

“Fuck me over there, hyung, please!”

Anyone who watched might wonder who’d ended up in charge. Han pointed wearily to places in his studio where he wanted you to bend him over: his desk, his chair, the other side of the couch, and even over his producing equipment. You couldn’t say no. He’d become as equally addicting as Hyunjin. By the time you both finished over the record deck, he was pumping out smoke. Watching him wearily bounce onto your hips, you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

“Get down there,” you ordered quickly, starting to jerk yourself quickly, “Get the fuck down there and open that mouth.” 

The sight of his mouth open, tongue sticking out close to your thick head, finally brought you over the edge. It hit you hard, making every nerve in you vibrate and stiffen as it pushed through you. Everything felt hot, your breath being constricted from the blast. Your cum shot right into his mouth, coating his tongue and splattering his mouth when you missed. Whenever he thought he’d miss a drop, Jisung licked the line leading to the hole and sucked it out for you. Your dick suddenly became sensitive to his hand and mouth, and your body became weak from the exertion. Jisung continued licking you from top to bottom, sucking whatever beads remained until he was sure he’d gotten it all. 

“That was amazing,” he breathed, finally laying down on your chest on the couch. Your body felt like jelly. You might’ve just gone through a super deep tissue massage, making you light headed and floating. “So much better than I thought it’d be.”

“Thanks,” you breathed, catching your breath. “I didn’t think I could-could do that again.”

“I didn’t think I could either,” he replied, snuggling close to you. He reached around for tissues he kept underneath the couch for emergencies, and you started cleaning each other off. “I’ve only ever done this with Minho.” 

“You two must have something really special then.”

You saw him smile fondly at the thought. “We do,” he said. “He keeps me grounded when I start floating away. I never feel anxious or worried around him. He makes me happy.” 

“That’s good.”

“Like how Chan makes you happy.”

Not this again. “What Chan and I have is the same as everyone else.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, “Tell that to the shadow at the door.”

“Huh?”

You could just barely see him, but instinct told you it was Chan. By the profile and muscled chest sticking out slightly, you recognized him. If you didn’t feel so drained, you’d go to him. He’s likely rock hard, if not already spent from listening at the door. But, you felt too content with Jisung in your arms to do anything about it. He’ll likely text you about it later, or bring it up the next time you’re alone. 

“He really likes you,” Han said, pulling up his boxers. “I can tell from how he looks at you.”

“He looks at all of us that way.”

“No, with you it’s more flirty and loving than fond,” he came back and cuddled against your chest, wrapped in your legs. “Minho looks at me that way sometimes, when he thinks I’m not looking. He’ll be watching me doing something, and when I look up, he turns his head. Chan does that with you.”

“It’s just sex, that’s all. We’re just horny for each other.”

No, it wasn’t that. It was far from that. Bahng Christoper Chan made you more seen than anyone else. He never left you behind or made you feel insignificant. When you were together, your connection flowed so freely and easily. It wasn’t awkward with him. Yes, your sexual tension will eventually boil over, but you hoped it was more than that for him. 

“Keep telling yourself that, cutie,” Jisung said, kissing your cheek softly. “Ugh, I’m starving now.” He grabbed his phone, “I’m going to see if they’ll bring us something. You know, to repair the emotional damage they caused with their rejection.”

“Of course. It’s only right.” 

Right when Jisung called Chan, a phone rang from behind the door. Then, the shadow disappeared. 

****

A/N: Ooof, YN is just blowing through these men, isnt he?? haha get it?? sorry...Please reblog and like!