#The beginnings of what could have been angst

[beloveds-embrace]

Noona please I beg of you, I need more men grovelling and regretting their actions; please give us more of the angsty version of the dukedom au it’s so good, it’s so cathartic please. What happens when the boys realize they fucked up? Who wants to fight Konig upon realizing reader is definitely getting her back blown out by him? Imagine if reader ended up having his baby, or placing divorce papers on Price’s desk, god the ANGST of it all

Here’s my dog as a banana as payment

Original post

THE DOG PICCC TELL YOUR DOG I SAID THEY ARE GOODEST BOY/GIRL EVERRRR ID DIE FOR THEMMM

also thank you to everyone for all the suggestions! I couldn’t add all of them so I’m super sorry for that 😭 and also a thank you to @darkangel4121 for your replies!!

The shift in the household’s demeanor comes slowly, as if the wind has changed direction. At first, it’s little things- a hesitant glance from John, a lingering pause before he leaves a room. Kyle- as you've come to finally learn his first name despite not asking- places your breakfast tray before you with newfound care and no disdainful silence, and Johnny’s meals are cooked to perfection, also a new name you've just so recently been told of. Even Duke Riley himself begins to nod in your direction when he visits, acknowledging your presence in ways he never did before.

But it all feels hollow.

These gestures, once craved, now barely touch you. You are polite, civil, offering faint smiles that do not reach your eyes, acknowledging the changes without truly engaging. Your heart no longer waits at the threshold of their approval; it has found its sanctuary elsewhere, firmly cradled in the hands of a man who has always seen you. Your knight. Your shadow. König.

You walk through the estate, thinking of John’s efforts with a detached air. He invites you to dinners now rather than leave you alone for entire days and nights, his voice gentler, eyes searching for cracks in the walls he helped build. He asks about your day, and you respond with the measured politeness your parents taught you. The warmth he offers now is too late, a sun long set. The flicker of hope in his eyes fades each time you excuse yourself early, your presence like a ghost haunting rooms that no longer feel like home.

König waits for you just beyond the hallways, his presence like a balm to a wound. He falls in step beside you without a word, the weight of his loyalty comforting in a way no amount of decorum could be. He is everything you need- unwavering, fiercely protective, and yours.

In the gardens, beneath a gnarled oak tree, you find moments of peace with him that you could never find within the walls of the estate. You sit together in companionable silence, your shawl and his cape wrapped tightly around you against the evening chill. When you lean against him, pressing your forehead to the cool metal of his armor, you feel his breath hitch. His hand comes to rest at your back, gentle despite the strength he wields.

“I missed you today,” you whisper, your fingers tracing idle patterns over the fabric of his sleeve. It is an admission you would have once swallowed down, but with König, you have no need to hide.

His grip tightens briefly. “I am always here, mylady,” he replies, his voice soft only for you. “You need only call for me.”

“I know.” You close your eyes, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. It beats for you, and that knowledge fills the spaces that loneliness once carved. “You are all I need.”

He shifts then, kneeling before you as he often does, his hands enveloping yours. His gaze is intense, pale eyes searching your face for signs of hesitation, but there are none. “I would give you the world if I could, mylady,” he says, voice low. “But all I have is myself.”

“You are enough,” you say simply, and you mean it. “More than enough. All I could ever want.”

König bows his head, a soft exhale escaping him. “Then I will stay by your side, always.”

The men of the estate still try, fumbling in their newfound efforts to mend what they broke.

John brings you flowers, freshly cut and arranged with care, so you can decorate your drawing room where you occasionally play the harp. You accept them with a polite nod, but they are forgotten in moments, and you go back to asking Konig his opinion on the melody you are playing. Kyle offers to escort you on walks, but you refuse, choosing instead the quiet solace of the garden paths shared with König. Simon’s attempts at conversation are met with cool civility, and Johnny's food largely goes untouched. You allow none of them closer than courtesy demands.

And the gifts received from John and Duke Simon are left untouched. They aren’t much of your style anyways.

But with König, you are different. Soft. Open. You share your thoughts, your fears, the dreams you had long given up on. He listens, always.

One evening, in the safe privacy of your rooms, he rests his head in your lap, a rare moment of vulnerability. You cradle his masked face, tracing the edges of the fabric. You are unafraid of being interrupted; your new maids were quiet and nervous, likely not wanting to be dismissed after the last batch were. You still have no idea how Konig managed to do it, but he spoke to John personally and had them all removed; despite that, you don’t care for their dubious help.

You had made sure to show Konig your appreciation quite thoroughly. Even days later, you swore you could feel how big his hands on your thighs were, keeping you nice and open for his tongue. He'd kept you in that position even when a knock had sounded and someone had entered, but the knowledge of what was going on only sent a sharp thrill of excitement through you.

Still, pettily, you hoped it'd been John who had seen you in the throes of pleasure.

Not right now, Duchess. Not right now.

“Are you tired, my love?” you ask gently, the term of endearment slipping out so naturally it catches even you by surprise, earlier thoughts pushed aside. Still, you have no desire to take it back.

He stills, breath caught. “Say it again. Please.”

“My love.” You smile, leaning closer to press your forehead against his. “You are my love.”

His hands tighten around yours, trembling. “I have always been yours.”

And you believe him. In the warmth of his embrace, you find what the others could now never give- a place where you are cherished, where you are enough. The rest of the estate watches you drift further away, their regret too heavy to shift the chasm that now lies between you. You are beyond their reach, ensconced in a love that was never born out of duty but out of genuine care.

In one of those quiet moments beneath the moonlit sky, after a tiring day of going between appointments and lawyers, you ask him, “Will you take me far from here one day, König? Somewhere far away, where I am free?”

“When you are ready, Liebling,” he promises without hesitation, pale eyes earnest. “I will take you wherever you wish to go.”

The world around you may continue its attempts to pull you back in, but it is too late. Your heart belongs only to the man who has always been your refuge, your shadow, your light. And with him, you finally feel free. König, König, König- and no one else.

dukedom au masterlist

[tooclevertobehappy]

Hidden in plain sight Part.3

TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of injury, child abuse, lots of guilt

Mapi and Ingrid are led by the officer down the hospital corridor toward one of the conference rooms. They tightly hold each other’s hands, exchanging nervous glances as they walk. Mapi takes a few seconds to press a lingering kiss on Ingrid’s forehead, letting her know they are in this together. The angst that had settled in Ingrid’s stomach grows the further they go. She wishes she could have seen Clara before being dragged away, but now she and Mapi are told to sit and wait for someone to come talk to them.

They’ve been sitting for less than ten minutes when Alexia enters, being led in by the same officer. It’s clear from the confusion on her face that she doesn’t understand why they aren’t allowed to see Clara either.

The three of them sit in silence. Ingrid’s leg bounces incessantly, her nerves growing, until Mapi gently places her hand on her leg, slowly caressing it with her thumb in an attempt to calm her down. All the while, Mapi keeps an eye on the captain, who looks like she’s about to storm out and demand to see Clara. The way Alexia’s knuckles turn white from gripping the chair’s armrests is a clear indication of her mounting frustration.

A woman finally walks in, file in hand, followed by a doctor and the same police officer. They sit down with the group, briefly talking among themselves. All three players’ eyes are drawn to the woman’s badge, which shines under the overhead lamp. It reads: “Mrs. Armon Child Protective Services.”

Ingrid’s hand joins Mapi’s on her leg, holding on so tightly that Mapi wonders if she might bruise from the hold. They exchange glances. What had been a weird, concerning situation before has now escalated into something far worse.

Finally, the agent clears her throat, opens the file she’s holding, and begins to speak.

“Hi, thank you for waiting. We just had a few questions about Miss Arellano’s home life,” she says calmly, before being interrupted by Alexia.

“What do you mean, her home life? Why aren’t we allowed to see her?” Alexia demands, her voice rising with frustration.

The agent sighs before picking up a piece of paper from her file. “Miss Arellano was brought to this hospital following injuries sustained during training today at the Barcelona team stadium, is that correct?” she asks, waiting for them to confirm.

“She was unconscious when she was brought in. Our nurses changed her from her training attire into one of our hospital gowns to better assess her injuries. During the examination, they found unexpected contusions on her body—ones that don’t match up with the injuries she would have sustained during the accident or any other training,” the agent continues.

The doctor, who had remained silent until then, raised a hand, his gaze turning serious.

“Miss Arellano, presented with a head laceration and head contusion that we know was caused today during training.” He says.

The three players nod their head at this, they’d all been there and seen the accident themselves after all.

”We however found evidence of bruises on her ribs and back.” He adds looking at them one after the other, seemingly studying their reactions.

Ingrid’s hand leaves Mapi’s and comes up to cover her mouth as tears started to form in her eyes while Alexia’s sharp intake of breath can be heard throughout the room.

“Adding to this, scans confirmed she has three fractured ribs and small cuts on the base of her neck, small crescent moons that suggest she’s been forcefully held by someone.” He ends with, closing the small file he’d opened when he started listing the seemingly endless list of injuries.

Tears now fall freely from Ingrid’s eyes over her hand still covering her mouth, Mapi’s arm is now laying over Ingrid’s shoulders, holding her closer to her as she holds her own leg tightly to hide the way her hand shakes.

Miss Armon gives them a brief moment, to allow the information to sink in before adding “We are suspecting that this isn’t the first time something like this happened, counting the report made today by the hospital, Miss Arellano is the subject of three previous reports.”

“Reports?” Mapi asks, her voice shaky with the first hints of fear.

“Reports of suspected child abuse,” the agent clarifies. “Two came from her school, and one from a former coach. All three reports describe unusual bruises, which Miss Arellano tries to justify as clumsiness or falling, Miss Arellano it seems has been getting abused and covering it up for weeks, if not months, trying to make those injuries look accidental but the medical assessment is clear, she’s being abused.”

The room is still. No one speaks. The weight of the agent’s words presses on them, suffocating. Mapi watches as Ingrid’s hands tremble. Alexia stares at the floor, her breath shallow. Time stretches between them. They can’t undo this.

Alexia who had sat still for most of the conversation seems to deflate at this, she’d hoped that maybe this had been “it only happened once” situation, but there was no denying the truth, Clara had been suffering for months, hiding it from them, and she’d been absolutely clueless, her, the captain of the team, she had not seen it.

She can’t help but think that she’s failed at her job, and the weight of the realization seems to pull her down and she slowly bends over herself, one hand coming to grip her own hair the other one resting on her face as she tries to slow her breathing down.

Ingrid is left reeling by the sudden onslaught of information. It feels like her chest is tightening with every passing second, tears are clouding her vision, she tries to breathe normally, but she can’t help the hitches that come with every breath she takes. She had suspected something was wrong the day before, but hearing her worst fears confirmed in a matter of minutes sends her spiraling.

“I know this is a lot to process,” Miss Armon says, her voice softer now. “But Clara’s safety is our top priority. We can start to make a difference now that we know the truth.”

The agent looks at the three women. “Now, we must ask if you’ve noticed anything that might shed light on this matter—anything Clara may have said or done, or anything unusual you’ve noticed about her home life?”

Mapi tightens her grip on Ingrid’s hand as she looks at Alexia, who is visibly devastated, she’d seen the Captain face hard situations before, always standing strong to help anyone on their team, but now she looks small curled in on herself as if it could protect her from the brutality of the information she’d been given.

She gently nudges Ingrid, silently inviting her to speak about what the two of them had discussed the day before.

“She was supposed to come to our house for dinner yesterday” says Ingrid, “She didn’t show up so I.. “she chokes up on her words, tears strangling her “So I went to her house, her dad answered the door, but he said she wasn’t there!” she adds the volume of her voice raising, her tone almost pleading with them.

Mapi’s now slowly but firmly caressing her back trying to ground her but also to remind her that she’s here by her side.

“I should have known! He smelled like liquor and the house was a mess! But he said she wasn’t there and I left.” Her eyes that were still filled with tears suddenly widened. “Oh my god.” her hand came back to cover her mouth. “I left! I left her there! With him!” Ingrid had tried to hold her sobs back till this exact moment when she realized that she’d left Clara with her abuser completely unchecked. She had seen the signs, the clues, heard the warning bells go off in her mind and yet. She’d left her there.

Ingrid’s breaths come in shallow gasps, as the weight of her realization crushes her, she can’t believe it.

Mapi’s chest tightens at the thought of Clara, alone in that house with him. The guilt in Ingrid’s eyes is almost too much for her to bear, and she feels a helpless knot in her stomach. What if this had been prevented? What if she could’ve seen the signs too?

“No no no no Amor, don’t do this to yourself” Mapi quickly grabs Ingrid’s face in her hands, trying to look into her eyes as she wipes her tears with her thumbs resting on her cheeks.

She pulls her in a tight embrace, holding her tightly, wishing she could protect her from the crushing guilt threatening to swallow here whole. “You couldn’t have known” she whispers, voice soft but firm.

Ingrid wants to believe her, she really does, but she can’t help but wonder how different the situation would be if she’d just paid attention to Clara, if she didn’t let her slip away, if only she'd intervened earlier, maybe all of this could have been avoided.

Mapi feels inadequate, she wants to reassure Ingrid and she can’t help but worry for Alexia that still hasn’t moved from the position she’s been in since the doctor listed all of Clara’s injuries, she wants to help both of them but can’t help but focus on her girlfriend, her caring and oh so sensitive girlfriend who seems to break down even more as the second pass, she can feel her body tensing and yet crumpling at the same time right underneath her fingertips.

She tries to pull her up and away from the guilt pit she seems to be falling into but she’s only mildly successful.

As Ingrid’s sobs slowly subside, Mapi still feels a tight knot in her chest, a growing worry that this moment, this pain, might not be something they can fix with words alone.

Miss Armon allowed them a few minutes to settle themselves before she spoke.

“By your own words, Mister Arellano was intoxicated when you came to check on Clara, is that correct?” she confirms, taking notes as she goes

Ingrid nods, her hand fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“Is there any other thing any of you can remember that could add to this?” she asks.

Alexia who had remained silent till now spoke up.

“She ran into me on the way to the field, I grabbed her so she wouldn’t fall and… she just looked in pain and I asked what was going on, but she said she was just tired, and we were almost running late.” She looks smaller than she ever has, guilt seems to be pulling her down more and more as she speaks. “I didn’t push her.” she says softly, her head still bowed down.

She takes a few slows breaths before looking up at the couple sitting next to her.

“I just don’t understand how we’ve all missed this. How I’ve missed it.” she says her voice shaky as she holds back her tears

The agent shakes her head.

“Abused children tend to hide their troubles very well” she tells them “The important thing is that we know. Now we can do something about it.”

They all sit in silence for a few seconds before the doctor clears his throat and breaks the silence, his voice professional but sympathetic.

“Miss Arellano has not woken up yet, but when she does we will assess the extent of her injuries to plan her recovery.” he says “When she’s ready we’ll conduct an interview to understand what’s happened. But right now we need to give her time, it’s likely she’s been hiding this for quite a while and we don’t know how she’ll react once the truth comes to light.”

“Would we be allowed to see her?” asks Mapi, she doesn’t allow herself to hope, no matter how desperate she is to check on Clara, she doesn’t want to give anyone false hopes if they are denied access to her.

The doctor looks at Miss Armon, who nods slightly, prompting the doctor grab his file and stand up “Yes, we had to ask those questions first, but if you wish to see her, I’ll take you to her room, however be aware that she’s still unconscious and that we don’t know when she’ll wake up, could be in an hour or tomorrow, okay?”

The three of them nod, shaking hands with Miss Armon and the police officer on auto-pilot before following the doctor out of the conference room and down corridors as they slowly walked closer to their young friend.

As they walked down the sterile corridors Mapi didn’t react as Ingrid grabbed her hand, she’d expected it, but to her surprise Alexia’s hand reached out, grabbing her free one tightly as though she needed to anchor herself too.

She’d raised her head looking at her, but Alexia refused to look at her, looking ahead the whole time her eyes fixed on the back of the doctor’s white coat.

So the three of them walked hand in hand, ignoring the looks thrown their way by patients, doctors and nurses alike that recognized them.

It felt like they’d walked for hours but could have only been minutes when the doctor finally stopped in front of a room, gently sliding the door open and stepping in.

Ingrid can’t help the gasp that comes out of her mouth as she sees Clara laying in the hospital bed, half her face covered in bandages and what wasn’t could only be discribed as a mix of purple and blue.

Alexia didn’t make a sound, but it was clear in the way her jaw tightened that she wasn’t left unaffected by the sight before her.

And Mapi? Well Mapi was trying to help everyone at once, she had to make sure Ingrid didn’t break down, that Alexia wouldn’t retreat behind her walls and try to deal with everything at once, she had to make sure Clara was okay and somehow also take care of herself as well.

Last night she wondered how they could help Clara.

Today she wasn’t sure any of them would be left standing to do just that.

[kpopflowerfield]

Upgrade | yjw

ღ pairing: ex-bf!jungwon x business worker fem! reader

ღ word count: 4k

ღ genre: angst, smut and fluff ending

ღ rating: nsfw, mdni

ღ networks: @k-vanity @k-library

ღ warnings: drinking, cussing, unprotected sex (wrap up), choking, dom! jungwon, tit worship, pet names (good girl,baby) oral (m. receiving), a spot of throat fucking, very rough sex

ღ summary: you and jungwon broke up a while ago, so why is he suddenly texting you at 2am?

↠ check out the rest of the tracklist here! ↞

Seven months. It's been seven months since you and Jungwon called it quits on your relationship and since you both decided non-contact was the best way to go since you were beyond heartbroken to end your relationship with him, but it wasn't with malice. You just got a new job offer, and he wasn't willing to leave his job and follow you to another country as you pursued your career. You were a numbers person, too; sixty percent do succeed long distance, but you wanted to avoid ending up relying on calls and texts to make it work; you needed skinship and intimacy, and you couldn't do that over a call.

It took you a while to have two feet on solid ground, but it was coming together. Your fancy new place abroad with your big title of account executive. Everything was running smoothly for you. That's why waking up in the middle of the night to a faint buzz from your nightstand left you confused about whether it was part of your dream. "Jungwon?" You mumbled, rubbing your eyes as if you were clearing them from debris and rereading the message.

Yang Jungwon: I don't mean to break the non-contact agreement we came up with, but I wanted to know if there was a way we could meet again. I just want to sit down and talk; I feel like we left on a sour note.

You rolled your eyes and placed your phone back down on your nightstand. You tried to fall back asleep but couldn't. The realization that Jungwon actually texted you out of the blue and asked to meet up kept you tossing and turning all night. You scratched your head as your alarm went off. You sat up and began debating, responding. But the no-contact you agreed on was already broken, so what was the harm?

Y/N: Hey, I'm willing to meet up if we want to have a simple conversation. On Thursday, I'll be in town for a presentation.

Yang Jungwon: Sounds perfect. Just tell me where to meet you.

You sent the address and thought for a moment. You did regret ending the relationship with him some days, but then the days when you worked from seven in the morning until eight at night came, and you didn't regret it. You wouldn't be able to have your relationship through text if you couldn't even pick up your phone to begin with. It wouldn't be fair to either of you to say you were dating when you would rarely get a chance to talk. Accepting his offer of seeing him again did feel right, though. Just being able to see his face again made your heart heat a little.

The three days in between his message and when you were getting on your flight passed by quickly. When you told Jungwon to meet you, part of you started to wonder if he would ghost you and not show. You sat down at the bar, looking around and ordering yourself a cocktail as you waited. "Y/N?" you heard that familiar voice calling your name as you turned and looked at him. The once obsidian-colored hair had changed into a honey blonde, but other than that, there were no changes to Jungwon that you could see. He sat down next to you, a faint smile on his face. "How have you been?" He questioned as you tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear.

"I've been good," You nodded and took a sip of your drink. "Not much has changed. I've been traveling a lot. But that's the job," You smiled at him. "What's new with you?" You watched as he took a sip of the drink that he had ordered. "Not much. I'm still at the same job, but I can't complain. The only change I've made in the past seven months was my hair color," He ruffled his hair, trying to think. A silence crept over until you spoke up. "Can I ask you to do something?" You looked at him, a sudden seriousness twisted in your words that were friendly banter before as he nodded softly. "What?" He looked at you, trying not to overthink the change in your tone. You swallowed before you started. "I know there were a lot of lies before I left. Please don't lie to me. Do you hate me for ending it?" You looked over at him.

You never confronted him about the feelings he was hiding from you. You only found out when a few of his friends reached out to you, telling you that he looked lost without you, and it took a lot for him to smile genuinely. You could read the way he couldn't find the words to say; he didn't know that his friends went to you about how he was feeling, nor was he expecting you to remember to ask him months later. "Listen, there's not going to be anything you say that will make me look or feel a different way about you." You wanted to give him the chance to tell you how he felt about what happened, as you never gave him the opportunity before you left. "I did," He nodded, taking another sip. "But, I'm over it now. It makes sense to do what you did. I wasn't willing to move, and your job is too demanding, so keeping a stable relationship would be hard." He looked at you, a soft smile still gracing his lips as you nodded in response. His eyes never left you.

"You're so beautiful," He looked at you, studying every feature. You laughed at him, hearing the way his words subtly slurred. He was on his third Jack and Coke, so it was hard to take his words seriously. "I'm not kidding." His bottom lip stuck out as he pouted at you. "Yeah, yeah," You laughed at him again, finishing up your drink and ordering another. "I just need one more chance with you." He sighed; you stared at him, seeing him spaced out, and you didn't know how to respond. "What do you mean?" You questioned, taking a sip of your drink. "I mean one last chance. I miss you," He sighed. Your cheeks flushed as you listened to him. "I've missed you too," You confessed, your voice small as you said it out loud for the first time.

The last few words left awkwardness lingering over the two of you. Jungwon sighed a bit as he finished the water he switched to. "Well, it's getting late," He checked the time on his watch. "It was nice to see you," He smiled. "Maybe we'll see each other again?" You nodded a bit, feeling him put something under your hand that was resting on the bar. You watched him walk away and towards the elevator. You looked at the card he had slid under your hand, a bit puzzled as you were expecting him to walk out the door to go to his place and enjoy the night with some friends.

Jungwon: I truly meant one more chance, btw. I'm in room 1103

You stared at the message on your phone. You pursed your lips, thinking of what to do. You were drinking, so your judgment was clouded. But god, did he look good, even better than when you left. You put your hand over your face, rubbing your temples. 'Fuck it, it's just one night,' Your thought was loud and clear as you stood up and made your way to the elevator holding Jungwon's room key close.

You knocked on the door lightly and tapped the card, hearing the door unlock. "One more chance, right?" You looked at him so seductively, making his heart skip a beat. He wasn't actually sure if you'd come to the hotel room to see him. He also wasn't expecting to hear that tone of yours anytime soon, but he was delighted to see your face in front of him. "It was so hard not to take you up here on my own," His voice matched that sweet, seductive tone that you had as he backed you up against the door until he heard it click shut.

Your eyes were locked with his as he stared at you like you were going to be his last meal, his eyes darting around, reading your expression and studying every part of your body he was able to. His hand cupped your face as he kissed you. Hungrily biting your lip and pulling at it, you moaned softly. His hand traveled from your cheek to your throat. Your eyes widened with excitement as he put light pressure on your throat. A moan escaped your lips as he let go. "Fuck, Jungwon," You let out softly; it had been a while since you last felt him do that. It still turns you on every time, and by the look in his eyes as he does it, you can tell it still turns him on, too.

He let his hands travel down your sides until they were gripping your hips tightly. His wet, sloppy kisses traveled down your neck, his fingers teasing their way up your sides, sending shivers through your body as he stopped at the collar of your shirt, lightly tugging. "How about we take this off?" He teased as you nodded quickly. He pulled at the shirt, watching the buttons pop open as he pulled it off of your body. He stared at your chest. His eyes turned dark with lust as he saw that black-laced bra that he'd always loved. "You're so gorgeous, fuck baby,"

His hands moved to your back, grabbing the clasp to your bra as he leaned down and kissed you, his tongue playing with your bottom lip as you kissed him back. He tossed your bra somewhere in the room as he grabbed your tits, kneading them gently. Just his touch was enough for you to elicit a moan. The cool air from the AC he had blasting made your nipples harden. Jungwon smirked against your lips as he felt the pebbled flesh under his hands. He pinched your nipples lightly, making you gasp as he kissed down your body, taking your chest in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peaks, and sucking on it lightly, his teeth grazing them, making your breath hitch. Your moans were quiet and breathy as he kissed your breasts. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he played with your pants, unbuttoning them.

You pushed them down, then pulled at the jacket he was wearing. He pushed it off, tossing it in the same direction as your bra. You pulled away from him, getting on your knees in front of him and pulling at the zipper of his pants. He unbuttoned them and pulled them down with his boxers. His cock was pointing straight towards your mouth, which began to salivate. "Be a good girl and suck it for me," He looked down at you as you stared into his eyes, not wanting to break eye contact with him. Your pussy was throbbing from the idea of having him again. You wrapped your hand around him, getting him as hard as you could before your lips parted, taking him in your mouth. The familiar taste of his salty precum met your tongue. You swirled your tongue around his sensitive head as he groaned.

Your head bobbed up and down as you slowly took more of him, letting him hit the back of your throat before you gagged, making saliva run down from the corners of your lips. "Careful baby, don't choke," He stammered, watching your plump lips take all of him that you could. He bit his lip, loving the feeling of your perfect mouth wrapped around him again. "God, I forgot how fucking good you are at this," His grunts covered up the noises of you slobbering all over his cock. His hand traveled to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he started to move your head on his own, using your pretty little mouth like a fuckhole for his pleasure. Tears welled in your eyes as you choked on him, gagging at the aggressiveness of the thrusts he was giving your mouth.

Your hands moved and grabbed his thighs, creating resistance from his thrusts into your mouth as he pulled out. "I forgot how good your mouth felt, baby; I didn't mean to do so much," His voice was gentle as you panted; your lips were swollen and glossy from the saliva that was previously wrapped around his cock. You nodded and looked at him, your eyes locked together. "I think I need you to remind me how good you fuck me," You smiled innocently as he stared hungrily into your doe eyes. "I think you need to get up then," He smirked, putting his hand out for you.

You took it as he carefully picked you up and off the ground. You followed his lead as he had you sit on the bed. He kissed you gently before holding your hips and turning you around. "Just like before, love, arch your back for me," He whispered in your ear from behind, making you shudder as you did as he said. Placing your forearms on the bed carefully and raising your ass in the air. His tip teased your soaking wet slit making your hips jerk backward, just wanting him inside without being teased. You heard a chuckle before your breath hitched, and you felt his cock burying deep inside your body.

Your walls clenched around him as he groaned, feeling your tight cunt adjust to his size. The deep, quick thrust was enough for you to cry out his name. Each thrust inside of you was desperate and hungry. He missed your pussy, and there was no denying it. His strokes never started or ended gently as his hips jackhammered into yours. "F-fuck Jungwon," You sobbed out at the intense pressure he was creating shockwaves go through your body. "Fuck, this pussy is so good," He continued with his erratic thrusts loving the sounds of you crying out for him and the feeling of your walls convulse around him. He grunted as his skin slapped against yours. You were gripped around his twitching cock as your body started to slump. "You gotta stay up for me, baby," He grabbed your hips, holding them up for himself. "It's just s-so much," You whimpered.

"J-jungwon," You stuttered as he smirked. "I love watching you take all of it so deep." He smacked your ass, sending a stinging pain through your body, making you whine out. "I love seeing it buried inside of you," He growled. Each stroke was sending you closer to your edge. "I-I'm so close," You sputtered as his relentless tempo didn't stop. Your walls were contracting against his rock-hard cock. "Cum for me, baby," His order sent shudders through your body as your moans grew louder from the brutal pace. You groaned as he buried his cock in you, making you hit your peak. He pulled out quickly, painting your back with his cum as he panted, pumping out everything he could. Your knees buckled as you collapsed on the bed, breathing hard.

You felt him get off the bed and go to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and cleaning his mess off of you. You rolled over and looked at him. His eyes looked a bit heavy from the exhaustion of fucking your brains out. He pulled the covers back and laid down next to you, gesturing for you to cuddle up next to him.

You moved and placed your head on his chest as he looked at you. "One more chance, right?" He looked down at you as you laughed tiredly against his chest. "That's what I've missed about us. The connection we had. Not just sexually but emotionally as well," He played with your hair as you moved your head away from his chest to look at him. "I've missed you, and I really want you back in my life, Y/N; I really never stopped loving you. We've always just made sense together." You held your eyes shut for a moment, taking in what he was saying. "Are you confessing after fucking me?" Your demeanor changed as you moved your body off of his.

"Come on, Y/N, it has nothing to do with us fucking; I wanted to say that since I saw you at that bar, but I didn't want you to run off," He looked at you as he sat up. "No, Jungwon, we might have made sense in the past, but not anymore. We're on two different paths. You're happy here and don't want to leave. I'm happy to have new experiences in different countries and get paid to visit these places. That's why I broke up with you. It just doesn't make sense to torture ourselves with desperation, waiting for the chance to see each other whenever we have the chance."

Jungwon looked at you as you got out of bed. "Please, Y/N, we can make it work. I know it isn't as easy, but I beg you to at least try it with me. I know what you're worth. But if you'll be mine, we can keep the idea of us being long-distance optional." You shook your head at him. "Trust me, it was for the best that we split." You walked over to collect your clothes, which had been thrown off and scattered around the room. "Just keep it in mind, please," He sighed. You looked at him and bit the inside of your cheek. "I'll think about it," He nodded as you got yourself dressed. "Please do," He watched every movement you were making.

You reached into your pant pocket, took out the room key, and placed it on his nightstand. "Here's this, don't want to forget it," You chuckled as he looked at it. "Thanks. Wouldn't want to get a silly charge for a missing key," He stared at it and exhaled. "Well, I'm going to get going," You looked at him, seeing the hair sticking to his forehead, and smiled softly. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your night," You walked out and shut the door gently behind you.

You walked to your room and immediately sat down in your bed before pulling out your laptop and tweaking your presentation. You were confident about it but still wanted to make a few adjustments to make everything run smoothly for yourself. When you presented it, it seemed like your mind was elsewhere. Every point you had to make felt like some foreign concept you weren't even familiar with. The idea of doing a presentation like this and being able to text Jungwon right after and going home and being able to call him and hear his voice felt so comforting. Maybe it wasn't the end of the world to try long distance; he was your first love, and even though you denied it, there still is a connection between the two of you that won't fizzle away. Once the meeting was closed, you walked out quickly and pulled out your phone.

Y/N: You've been on my mind all day. Especially what you said, I fear that we'll rekindle and have another breakup, and even though I'm the one who initiated it, I was heartbroken. It took a few months for me to be myself again. It's nothing against you. I just want what's best for both of us. I was scared of the distance, and I thought breaking up was the best thing for me to do to keep both of us from hurting and giving myself a clean slate to work with when I moved. I do still love you. I'm just scared of hurting us again.

Jungwon: Let's meet again at the same hotel and at the same time. We can talk in person instead of sending texts.

You groaned to yourself. It was easier to say the words over messages than in the moment where you had to come up with the words right there on the spot. You wanted to be able to think before every word that you wanted to say to him, but he was better with words in person than over text. It felt silly to try and argue with your side of wanting to send messages. You held your head but then let him know that you were willing to meet him. You paced around your room for a few moments before you walked down to the hotel bar, at the time you agreed to meet, and waited for him. You ordered yourself a drink, deciding to stick to water this time, not wanting to end up in bed with him again before being able to finish your conversation.

"Hey, stranger," He smiled at you cheerfully as he sat down next to you. "Hey," You smiled softly, watching him as he ordered himself a drink. "So you wanted to talk?" You looked at him as he nodded. "What made you text all of that?" He questioned as you took a sip of the water. "You told me to think of it as optional, and I wanted to explain why I'm not sure if I could even consider it an option," You avoided eye contact with him. Not wanting to look him in the eye as you confessed. "Listen, Y/N," He reached to your hand that rested on the bar and held it carefully.

"I'm not rushing anything," His voice was gentle. "I just love you, and I need you to know that. I want to give us another chance. I'm willing to make the move to be with you and have you by my side. I know I don't have to move, but seriously, Y/N, if you'll be mine…" He seemed to trail off as you stared at his hand. "Well, keep it optional," You laughed lightheartedly, repeating what he said just a day before.

You smiled softly, hearing his light giggle. "I'm sorry," he let go of your hand softly. "I really shouldn't have brought you down here to keep begging for a relationship that you don't want." He moved his hand away from you and closer to himself as you quickly grabbed it yourself. You held his hand tightly. "Are you actually willing to move to be with me?" You raised an eyebrow at him as he nodded quickly. "I would do anything to have a chance to be with you again." He looked at you, his eyes filled with admiration. "Y/N," He started.

"Listen, Jungwon, I know I've sounded negative, but I have realized that I missed you, and sitting here with you has been my favorite thing for the past two days. I'm willing to try long distances with you, but I don't want to make you move away for the sake of keeping me. That wasn't fair to you," You cut him off, expressing your thoughts that you were holding onto. He smiled at you, a sparkle in his eyes. "I'm willing to move with you. Wherever you go, I'm coming too." You looked at him, surprised, as he grinned. "Whenever and wherever we end up, I want to be with you. I love you, Y/N," He took your hand and kissed it as you smiled at him. "I love you, Jungwon, but I feel awful making you give up where you're comfortable just to be with me," He quickly shushed you and smiled. "I'm thinking of it as an upgrade in our relationship. Seven months is a lot longer than it seems, and I would say that we both have grown." You leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I like that idea," a blush crept onto your cheeks as you smiled at him.

[carvinglies]

Soulmate tropes multifandom part one: Hunter x Hunter

part two || part three || part four ||

notes: I wanted to try my hand at writing soulmate au's so hopefully this is decent requests are open.

tw's:Talks of death in chrollos part, immortality in chrollos part, and angst in his part too.

Red string of fate you can tug: Kurapika

Kurapika’s soulmate frustrates him to no end, pulling their string at the worst moments with such force that he wonders how the hell they’re so strong. He could be sleeping and suddenly feel a tug from his pinky moving him to the other side. Kurapika understands he’s not heavy but there’s no way he’s that light! When he finally comes face to face with his soulmate giving them the equivalent of the stink eye.

Kurapika huffs before blurting out, “Why have you been manhandling me for no reason?” They have to stifle a laugh at his bluntness.

Immortal x mortal who keeps getting reincarnated but falls in love with immortal over and over: Chrollo

Chrollo’s soulmate constantly wallows in their own sadness, being immortal has no perks once you begin to live it. They hate having so many chances at life when they have to constantly wait for Chrollo again, watching him die months or days after a confession over and over makes them despise their never ending life Chrollo always dies after falling in mutual love with them making his soulmate swear to never fall in love with him again but always falling to the curse of the never ending cycle of reincarnation and death.

“I’ll always love you no matter how many life’s I live,” was always ringing in their ears in different voices but it was always him.

Really poor description on how you meet your soulmate is written on you: Feitan

Feitan’s face contorted into confusion when he first got the inky writing engraved into his skin, yeah sure he knew what soulmates were but the method whoever chooses soulmates picked out for him was annoying. I mean what kind of description of their meeting is, “bodies will hit it will be hot and sharp.” It threw him for a loop but eventually he decided to just give up on his soulmate. He didn't need romance, he's a thief for god's sake! But he was destined to meet you so when he bumped into someone holding scorching hot coffee that splattered onto him it hurt but it wasn’t bad for a nen user but just for the inconvenience he pulled out a switch knife holding it up to their wrist as a threat.

“Oh so this is what the text meant, how ironic,” the unknown person standing before him chuckled as he withdrew his weapon, coming to the same conclusion.

Someone can not experience true love until they meet their soulmate: Illumi

Illumi used to ask his mother about how he would meet his soulmate; she explained that methods are genetic and he would most likely be feeling no love until they meet the one. But he was quickly told to discard the idea of love and soulmates and encouraged to just marry the strongest person he would meet. Illumi drilled that fact into his head after some push from his parents he began to scout out potential candidates for marriage running into a florist worker their clay pot holding flowers were expected to smash into the floor but Illumi assumed that they were a nen user by the way they gripped their pot. Illumi walked off before hearing the same floral worker calling out to him holding a smaller bouquet, the plastic making a crunching noise as they moved to hold it out to the male's chest.

They grinned at him before hesitating, ultimately deciding to speak, “Here to apologize about running into you sir!” A weird fluttering feeling enveloped Illumi. He glanced at them studying their facial expressions and body language, thinking about them possibly cursing the flowers before giving them the pass, shrugging his shoulders and gingerly grabbing the flowers from them.

Countdown until you meet your soulmate: Uvogin

Never paid attention to the timer until Nobunaga pointed out that it was getting extremely low, in all honesty Uvogin kinda wanted to be in a romantic setting. He had his flings here and there but it wasn’t real love; he never pursued anything more due to his… job. So when he caught their eye during a stroll I mean who wouldn’t notice a 8 foot giant walking around! But then when he bumped into them literally I mean he actually slammed into them kinda, his soulmate was a little intimidated But Uvogin let out a hearty laugh like he always does.

They were the one profusely apologizing before he said, “Nah don’t worry about it I could never be mad at a cutie like you.” Before walking off did they notice the countdown on your wrist was at 00:00.

Speaking to your soulmate during dreams: Shizuku

Shizuku was indifferent towards the whole idea, but she also didn't get the hype people would get with soulmates watching people raving about meeting their soulmate while boasting was confusing. Well that was before she got her soulmate method, falling asleep after shifting in her bed for forever Shizuku dreamt of beautiful scenery with a person whose face was blurred out. Finally the two came to the realization, after a long while, that they can talk to each other and share intriguing conversations but whenever they try to say anything about their personal lives other than nicknames the pair would wake up suddenly like they experienced a nightmare. Shizuku, to her surprise, remembered every little detail about the person who appeared in her dreams, the blurry marks on their body and the way everything but their face looked, finding them interesting but not having enough time to deliberately look for her destined partner she became content with the small moments they shared. While out after a mission she craved a strawberry cake slice she opened the door to her favorite cafe strutting comfortably to the desk worker who greeted her with a smile and voice she was all too familiar with.

“Hello, what can I get you today?” Flashing their signature customer service smile they continued, “Take your time there's a whole lot of options.”

[madamechrissy]

💜 Preview of Keep This Low Key Ch 3 💜

Choso x F Reader- explicit - FWB

“What do you mean… you’re… going… fuck you feel s’good.” Choso is moaning in your ear as he’s fucking you, bent over the bathroom sink, his cock pumping inside of you, even with a condom he feels how good and perfect your pussy is, clenching down on him. “On a date with him!”

“Cho… ah!” You scream out, arching your ass up for more of his strokes, the way his piercing hits your g spot makes you incoherent, you’re soaking his length all the way down to his and your thighs, making a sticky mess. Your eyes catch his expression in the mirror, as fucked out as yours.

Tattooed arms wrap your body, those big hands gripping and squishing your breasts as he shoves his cock in deep, making your eyes roll back, as you begin cumming all over his cock. You both share a moan, Choso is burying his face in your neck, hot breath tickling your ear as he exhales, soft dark hair against your cheek.

He feels so good inside you, so good your knees are weak. You are nearly collapsing, now Choso has to hold you up entirely, fucking into you more, making your tits jiggle with each thrust. “Why… him…”

“Cho… you have… a date too!” You scowl at his reflection now, earning his cute little pout, his brows together.

“But- fuck, pussy is so good - you shouldn’t.”

“Then you- ah - shouldn’t! Just… friends, yeah?” You say softly, hiccuping on your words as he pinches your nipples, twisting them as he pounds your cervix.

“Cum on your best friend’s cock then.” He orders, so demanding and sexy suddenly, and you obey, cumming so hard you’re blinded this time, pulsing all around his cock. Choso moans out, pushing in deep and rocking his hips, turning your face to him.

You choke up when his violet eyes hit you, trembling and trying to focus, he’s fuzzy, you’re so fucked out you’re dizzy, and you taste his sweet breath on yours lips now. You lean forward, kissing him, which is your undoing, it has been the past couple times before this, when you kiss him you can’t pretend, can’t pretend you don’t care he’s going on a date today, and so are you.

Can’t pretend this is how friends behave.

But you can’t ruin what you do have, he feels too fucking perfect inside you, and now he’s throbbing, thickening, you feel him cumming hot in his condom, wishing instead he could bust in you without one. Which is fucking insane, but friends certainly don’t do that, do they?

Choso whimpers against your lips, vulnerable and sweet as he cums, rocking gently now, cupping your face so gently. “You’re so pretty, you’re so beautiful-”

“D-don’t say that.” You manage to whisper, tears pricking your eyes, making him sigh as he kisses you again, still snug inside you, your body pressed against his sink, legs dangling how he has you, has all of you.

“You are, I told you I’ll n-never lie. Your pussy is perfect.” You struggle not to speak your heart, you’ll ruin this, and now that Choso is going on a date, you don’t know how long this will continue.

“You feel good in me too. I love it.” You whisper, before you can think better. Choso eases out then, throwing out the condom after he sets you to stand on wobbly knees, holding onto you.

“I love being inside you. Never felt anything better.” He’s brushing your hair back, and you’re shaking your head. “What’s wrong, angel?”

“Don’t even call me that.” You push at him, pulling up your shorts and yanking down your top, he tries to slide it up, frowning as he kisses on your breasts.

“What, why can’t I? I always have.” He murmurs against your skin, and you tremble at his touch, goosebumps rising before you pull away, looking in the mirror and fixing your hair.

“I just can’t hear it. When’s your date?” He scowls then, something Choso really never does, dark brows low over his eyes.

“When’s yours?”

Let the idiots in love continue- and add angst aha (Probs coming next week💜)

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 3

Summary: Joel and Y/N force themselves to get over their tension while they spend time together with their children at the Christmas event. Talking about their past awakens feelings inside of both them that they haven't felt for each other in a very long time.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Negan Smith (mentions), Lydia, Carl Grimes, Peter, Elizabeth, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/154729198

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Unprotected P in V, Rough Sex, Car Sex, Public Sex, Grumpy Joel, Loads of Angst, Bickering, Spanking, Slight Choking, etc.

Notes: This chapter starts sweet, but then it just becomes absolutely filthy. Lots and lots of smut. There are also incredible amounts of angst that are in this chapter with the two characters talking about their past together. There is NO Negan in this chapter, but they do talk about him a little bit. Thanks for reading!

Things were quiet. And not the comfortable kind of quiet. When Joel agreed to bring Y/N tonight, he never really considered how weird it would be having her here. It had been a while since they had spent time together like this out with the kids. Sure, Peter and Elizabeth brought two of their friends. Which meant they were distracted, but that also meant that it left Y/N and Joel alone together. Because of how things had been, Joel was uneasy with talking. Then again, he wasn’t really good with talking to begin with. But having an in-depth conversation with his ex-wife didn’t seem like it would be too easy.

“I was surprised that you accepted the offer to come tonight,” Joel walked side by side with Y/N with their children and their friends in front of them. On the ride to the historic village, they didn’t really talk much. The children did most of the talking and they just listened. Once they got in, things were awkward with the silence so Joel did his best to start a conversation. “I thought you would be too tired.”

“You’re surprised that I wanted to spend more time with our children?” she smirked, gazing over at him when Joel rolled his eyes with his own ignorance. Of course she would jump at more time with Peter and Elizabeth. Especially during the holidays. She was a good mother that loved her children very much so thinking back on it, that comment was kind of stupid. Joel shoved his hands into his pockets and she could tell that he was uncomfortable. “I was surprised that you allowed them to ask me to come. I realize that there are things you like doing with them alone.”

“They were pretty insistent,” Joel retorted with a frown, nodding forward toward where there children were looking. The village had old homes and buildings that were decorated to match the year and location of what it would have been like at that time for Christmas. Each section was lit up differently. The children seemed more interested in it than Joel did since he was trying to strike a conversation. “They want us to spend more time together as a family.”

Hearing him refer to the four of them as a family was strange because that wasn’t typical for Joel. Especially over the last few years. There was a clear separation between them with the children and that was something she had grown used to.

“I hate to admit it, but I ate most of the cookies you sent over,” Joel informed her with a weak smile seeing the amusement in Y/N’s eyes. Changing the subject to something more innocent seemed like the only way he knew how to keep the conversation positive. “Once I start eating them, it’s just addictive and I can’t stop.”

“And that’s why you’re getting soft,” Peter blurt out, turning on his heel hearing his father talking about the sweets that Y/N had sent home with him. Joel was surprised that Peter was paying attention to his comments at all since their son had a friend with him. Reaching out, Peter poked Joel in the stomach causing a scoff to fall from Joel’s throat. All four of the children giggled at Peter’s comment. Even though it was dark, Y/N imagined that Joel’s cheeks flushed over with red from embarrassment.

“Just wait until you’re older like me,” Joel grumbled stepping forward to place his hands in over Peter’s shoulders to give them a squeeze. “Sure, you’re skinny now, but once you get to my age you’ll see that it’s not as easy to keep the weight off. I reckon my body is average in the belly area.”

“Not if you keep up eating those cookies like you have,” Peter pointed out with a simple shrug, still working to tease his father. This was their attitude though. Peter and Joel would always give each other a hard time. In fact, Peter reminded her a lot of what Joel was like when he was that age. Except, Peter wasn’t as angry or closed off. Their banter drew Elizabeth’s attention and she also seemed amused with the joke that Peter pulled on Joel.

“Do you think I’m getting fat?” Joel directed the question at Elizabeth, who immediately shook her head and raised her hands up. Trying to opt out of the conversation all together. Elizabeth had no interest in getting into this or getting in trouble with Joel. “Come on Ellie, you’ve always been my biggest sidekick.”

“I’m taking no part in this,” Elizabeth choked back on her words, doing her best to hold her laugh in. All of the children seemed entertained that Joel was getting so worked up over the idea of being softer in the abdomen area. “I fully believe you still could knock out all my friends’ fathers. Does that help?”

“Yeah Mr. Miller,” Elizabeth’s friend blurt out, her head nodding when she gazed back at Joel. Throwing her arm up in the air, she pretended that she was flexing and scrunched up her face. “You have got those guns. So trust me, no one is going to be looking if you have a little bit of a tummy. They are going to be totally distracted by your arms.”

“Thanks Lydia,” Joel huffed, not certain of how he should feel about hearing that. There was the creeped-out factor that Elizabeth’s friends were checking out his body in any fashion. What had started as a joke had become successful in making Joel feel awkward. Especially since they had all confirmed he was a bit squishy in the middle. “I think.”

“Plus a lot of people really like your butt,” Lydia attested causing Peter to groan out at Elizabeth’s friend drawing attention to Joel’s body again. Y/N laughed at the outburst from the seventeen-year-old, noticing that Joel was incredibly embarrassed. “It stands out. And most people very much enjoy looking at it.”  

“That’s not funny,” Joel countered looking over at Y/N who was trying to bite back on her laugh. Just the thought that young girls were scrutinizing his body made Joel uneasy. “You shouldn’t be looking at my…at my butt.”

“Yes, please refrain from talking about my dad’s ass,” Peter scoffed out with a disgusted sound hearing his friend that he brought with him giggling. “Carl, it’s not funny. You wouldn’t want me talking about your mom’s breasts.”

“Peter!” Y/N corrected her son’s behavior watching Peter’s arms immediately fly up in defense of himself. The expression that Peter gave her reminded her of Joel when he was younger and did something cheeky. It almost wasn’t fair how much both Peter and Elizabeth looked so much like Joel. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m just saying Mr. Miller is one of the dads we actually enjoy looking at,” Lydia addressed the situation and Elizabeth eagerly tried to hush her friend. “It’s a compliment. You should feel honored to know that.”

“I don’t…I just…” Joel shook his head, noticing that they had stopped in front of one of the old homes that they were allowed to go into. How the hell was he supposed to respond to that? There was no easy way to respond to something weird like that. “I don’t.”

“Come on,” Elizabeth groaned, dragging Lydia into the house with Peter and Carl following not far behind. By the expression over Elizabeth’s face? She was embarrassed by what Lydia had said too. Under their breaths, the two girls seemed to bicker with one another, but Lydia didn’t seem angry. In fact? She seemed amused.

“You’re one of the hot dads,” Y/N teased Joel, nudging him with her shoulder hearing him groan out. This was not a situation that Joel was comfortable with. And he was probably thankful that they were taking their time in following the children into the home they were walking through. It kept some space from Lydia who had a hard time not saying exactly what was on her mind. “It is a compliment in some fashion.”

“I’m one of the younger dads,” Joel corrected her with a grunt, keeping far back enough so that when he whispered to Y/N only she could hear him. “You’ve seen most of the dads at the school functions. Most of them are a lot older than me. We had Elizabeth when I was twenty. So of course they are going to be drawn to the younger father.”

“Right, and even those that are your age aren’t as good looking as you,” she reminded Joel, lifting her hand to playfully pinch at his cheek. The glare she got from Joel’s dark brown eyes had her laughing out. There was a lot of color in his cheeks expressing just how mortified this whole thing made him. “I’m sorry. I think this is great that you are so embarrassed.”

“Well, I got called fat and then found out that seventeen-year-olds are checking me out. I don’t know how to handle that,” Joel professed, his hand placing in over the lower part of his abdomen seeing her eyes follow his movement. “I used to be ripped when we were younger.”

“I remember,” she noted with a smirk. For a long time Joel was slender and chiseled. As a teen and a young adult, Joel was very athletic and proud of his body. It was hard to forget what he looked like when they had first hooked up. Ahead of them, she saw that the children were surrounding a demonstration in the kitchen section of the house they were in. It was someone dressed accurate to the era showing how they would have made chocolate during that time period. Since they were still in the back, she reached up to playfully squeeze at Joel’s bicep. The movement surprised him, his dark eyes narrowing when he dropped his head down to look at her. “I think your arms are much nicer now. You went from a twink to a daddy.”

“Twink?” Joel repeated what she said, amusement flooding his features. Hearing something like that from her was entertaining. Especially since they hadn’t talked much in a very long time. “I’ll take that one as a compliment.”

“You should,” she still found herself amused that the moment got so awkward between all of them. Instead of continuing on the conversation, she moved in behind the children to watch the demonstration. They allowed someone to volunteer to try and they ended up picking Peter after Elizabeth said no. Of course Elizabeth teased Peter while he did it, but it seemed like Peter was enjoying this more as a teenager than he did when he was a child when they’d bring him here. After they were done, they headed out of the house. Everything was so dark which made it hard for Y/N to notice the patch of ice that was right beneath the last step out of the house. It had Joel reaching out to hook his arm around her waist to keep her on her feet. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” Joel hooked his arm with hers to keep a hold on her so she couldn’t fall. “That’s winter for you. Hidden ice, just waiting for you to fall and break something.”

“Second time I almost died today,” Y/N informed Joel knowing that Tommy had been the cause of the one earlier where Negan saved her. “This morning your brother was supposed to be holding a ladder while I was putting lights up and instead, he ran off after his crush. A gust of wind came through and almost killed me.”

“Tommy has a crush?” Joel probed and she was surprised that was the first thing that came to mind for him. “Sorry, he just…he hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

“Yeah. There is a girl that caught his eye. They are having their first date tonight,” she informed Joel who looked confused considering this was something Tommy obviously never spoke to him about. “I helped Tommy pick his outfit.”

“How?” Joel’s face scrunched up, trying to figure that out. Considering Tommy lived in the same house as him and Y/N had never showed up to the house, he found that hard to believe.

“He sent me a few photos and I told him what would look the best on a first date,” she explained to him seeing the sense of jealousy that flooded Joel’s body. It was hard to miss. Joel didn’t like to hear that she knew something he didn’t with his little brother. “Don’t worry about it Joel. I just…am the more romantic one and I think he views me like a mother.”

“You’re not his mother,” Joel clarified, his eyebrows bouncing up. How quick Joel was to remind her of that made her feel bad. Maybe she wasn’t Tommy’s mother, but she was the closest thing he had to one. She had been his adopted parent longer than Tommy and Joel’s parents had actually been in Tommy’s life.

“Yeah, I know that. But I did adopt him too,” she pointed out hearing Joel sigh in response to that comment. A lot of the time it seemed like Joel had forgotten that she adopted Tommy as soon as she could in order to help Joel keep Tommy from going into foster care. They had to prove that they were a family that worked well together. So she had been right there with Joel to be a good parent figure for Tommy. “I helped you raise him, so I’m the closest thing he has to a mom and a mother figure is the kind of person you want to talk to when you are having your first date.”

Joel was quiet. He didn’t know how to respond to the news. Especially since he lived in the same house with Tommy and he had no idea.

“I’m okay by the way,” she interrupted his thoughts since he hadn’t spoke of the fact she almost died. That statement had Joel’s face scrunching up, confused. “No scratches or anything.”

“I assumed you were okay since you were here,” Joel acknowledged, tightening his arm around hers while they walked together. The children headed up to the next building where it was full of a bunch of activities for them to do. Joel and Y/N stood in the back since it was more so a thing for younger people anyways. “Who is his crush?”

“Maria,” she educated Joel about the woman that his brother was interested in. Joel’s face scrunched up like he was trying to picture a face to go with the name. “It’s the mayor’s daughter. Apparently they ran into each other at the diner one night. They talked to each other all night and really hit it off. I guess they have been going there every night since. He seems really hooked on this girl.”

“That’s not good,” Joel claimed, loosening his grasp on her arm now that they were inside away from any ice. “The mayor hates Tommy. Always did. If he fucks up with this girl…”

“I don’t think he will,” she suggested knowing from the way that Tommy was talking about Maria that he really seemed to like her. “It’s not like Tommy’s past fascinations. You should have seen the way he lights up about her when he talks about her. It’s sweet.”

“My brother falls in love fast,” Joel reasoned with her, grumbling under his breath when she started to walk toward a hallway at the far corner of the building they were in. Following her not far behind, Joel could see that she was looking at the photos that lined the wall. “I don’t understand why he hid this from me. I’m his brother.”

“Maybe he thought you would have tried to persuade him not to do it,” she hinted since Joel was already being negative about things as it was. “I think he just wanted to feel good about this whole thing.”

“Are you saying that you think I make him feel bad?” Joel pointed toward the center of his chest, but instead of answering him she gave him a look that made him huff. “What?”

“Nothing,” she lied looking back to the wall and pointed toward the photo that she was looking at. Considering how heated he was getting about Tommy, she was attempting to change the conversation. The entire hallway was lined up with photos of the village’s staff from each year the Christmas event took place. From the very start all the way to the year before this one. “They put the photos of everyone who works each year in here. This was our first year.”

Stepping forward, Joel’s eyes narrowed when he gazed up on the photo that she was pointing at. Chuckling Joel found himself, Y/N and Negan in the back row of the photo, “I can’t believe our daughter thought I was lying when I said he was one of my best friends.”

Tapping his finger over Negan’s face, he saw Y/N leaning in focusing on the photo where Negan had both his arms wrapped around their shoulders pulling them in closer. It made Y/N smile as she looked to Joel again, “You should have seen her face when I pulled out the photos. How old were we again here?”

“You and Negan were sixteen. If you remember my family hooked us up with the jobs to make us feel a sense of responsibility,” Y/N noticed that the children were moving over toward them after they finished what they were doing. All four of them had candy canes in their mouths when they stepped in around them to look at the photo they were looking at.

“Hey, is this you Mr. Miller?” Lydia pointed toward the photo of Joel seeing him nod. “Look at you. Chiseled jawline and everything.”

“And if you look right next to me,” Joel urged his daughter forward so she could see that Negan was between him and Y/N in the photo. “There is the man that my daughter thought I wasn’t friends with.”

“How was I supposed to know you and mom were best friends with Negan Smith? It’s not like either one of you talked about it,” Elizabeth ranted and the surprised expressions on both Lydia and Carl’s faces drew them to both step forward to tip on their toes to eye over the photo.

“That’s Negan Smith?” Carl seemed shocked when he pointed at the younger version of Negan. “Holy shit. You guys are like cool by association.”

“I was a really good baseball player back then too,” Joel announced hearing Carl laugh before silencing himself when he noticed that Joel was offended. “I was. I was really good at football too. I got a full ride to a college with how good I was.”

“Which college did you go to?” Lydia was curious when she looked back at Joel and he suddenly felt small when she asked him that. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Joel seemed to shut down and Y/N picked up on it immediately.

“Joel’s parents passed away and he had to take care of Tommy,” Y/N answered for Joel hearing him clear his throat uneasily. Why Joel was embarrassed about that always confused Y/N. It was something to be proud of. Joel was a good brother. A good family man. Explaining that to people always seemed to make Joel feel bad. “Joel gave up his life for his little brother.”

“And me,” Elizabeth breathed so quietly that maybe only Y/N heard that.

“You were the hotter one back then,” Lydia suggested with an amused breath, completely ignoring the part about Joel giving his life up for someone else. Moving to the side, they went to the next photo and then found the three of them in the photo again. “How long did the three of you work here during Christmas?”

“I worked here until I was twenty-two,” Joel answered, shifting on his feet when he thought back on their history. “Negan stopped working here when he was eighteen because, well…I’m sure you know his history.”

“Where is he?” Carl stammered when they got to the third photo that included them in it. This time Y/N and Joel were up front, but there was no Negan. Y/N stepped in beside the photo and pointed to Negan who was at the opposite end of the photo pressing a kiss against a woman’s cheek. “Oh! He found love!”

“We both did,” Joel responded looking at the way Y/N clung to him back then. It made a breath catch in his throat when he looked over at her. “That school year, the two of us started dating and Negan started dating the woman that would become his wife.”

“Why aren’t the four of you together?” Peter was curious since he really hadn’t heard this story either. The only one who had details was Elizabeth. Peter’s brown eyes seem fascinated too when he looked back to the photo.

“We just…” Joel began, swallowing down the lump that grew in his throat. “Grew apart.”

“Love made you not friends anymore?” Lydia blurt out and it had Joel tipping his head from side to side. “Well that’s sad. You’d think you’d all be happy for each other that you found your soul mates.”

Lydia paused, looking back at Y/N and Joel knowing that they were divorced and no longer together. Her face went pale when she thought about what she said, “At the time.”

“What was his wife like?” Carl wondered since all of them were obviously interested in Negan and not so much about their experiences working there.

“We didn’t really know her,” Y/N explained with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Sweet,” Joel commented at the same time she answered. Giving her a look, Joel thought about it and took in a deep breath. “I think we knew her decent enough. She talked to us a few times. I thought she was nice.”

“Sure, we talked to her some, but we really didn’t get to know her because Negan wasn’t really around anymore,” she reminded Joel of their youth and it had Joel nodding his head before moving to the next photo that only had the two of them in it.

“Look at the way she looks at you,” Lydia moved to the next photo that Joel was looking at. It impressed her the way that Y/N looked at Joel in the photo. “You must have been doing something right. That’s the look of pure love.”

Instead of responding, Joel nodded and looked through the next few photos that involved them in it. Looking to Y/N, Joel could see that she was gazing over the photo where she was pregnant with Elizabeth in it. There seemed to be something in her expression changing when she lowered her head.

After some more talk about Negan, the children wanted to go off to the next destination and they followed them close behind. It seemed like Y/N was sad after seeing the photos and Joel cleared his throat, “So uh, one thing Tommy did tell me today was that me doing the Santa photos with the children hurt your feelings.”

“They don’t,” she immediately lied with Joel’s chocolate brown eyes locked on her reaction. It seemed like he didn’t believe her and she shook her head again. This was somewhat common. Anytime she would open up to Tommy about things, he would often try to help her but it only made things worse. “Really, they don’t. I don’t know why Tommy would say something like that.”

“Are you sure?” Joel wondered seeing that she had a hard time looking at him. “You know I’ve known you my whole life, right? Well, it feels like it’s been my whole life.”

“What’s your point?” they stopped when the children asked if they could get some snacks and hot chocolate. It seemed like she was eager to get away from the conversation to pay for the things. The children sat down at a table together. It was a heavily crowded area and the two of them stepped off to the side so they could talk.

“It means that I know when you’re lying to me,” Joel whispered, leaning in closer to her and he noticed the way the warmth of his breath made her shudder. “You have a hard time looking at me when you lie. It was always your give. I could tell that you were being honest when you didn’t break eye contact.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, holding onto the cup of hot chocolate she had gotten for herself. “I’ll have to work on that.”

“If you wanted to come, you could have told me,” Joel offered, hearing her let out a long exhale. It was one thing for him to say that, but another for him to mean it. Especially after the photos had already been taken. In the past she had expressed wanting to go and he never wanted that. “The children would have had fun with it.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to do it anymore,” she stated, her eyes looking sad at the idea of it. Truthfully? He told her that the first year of their separation. So his change of pace made her uneasy. “I distinctly remember you telling me that I couldn’t be part of it because Tess would get the wrong idea. Then when I did it separately, you got angry with me because you wanted special moments with them that were special just for you.”

“Things are different,” Joel reminded her, shifting on his feet uncomfortably after he took a sip of his hot chocolate that she got for him. “I’ve had time to…grow.”

With a nod, Y/N didn’t know what to say because she had grown used to a certain Joel over the last few years. This one wasn’t exactly the Joel that she was used to, “Things are actually a lot better when you are around. The children are happier. I’m happier…”

“Joel,” she looked to Joel seeing the way that his eyes were hooked on her. Those words had her heart fluttering in her chest. Everything inside of her still loved Joel so it hurt trying to think that there was a part of Joel that wanted her around. “Don’t.”

“What do you mean don’t?” Joel outstretched his free hand to curl his glove covered finger underneath her chin to try to urge her to look at him. There was tension in her body when her eyes locked with his.

“Time for the fireworks,” Elizabeth interrupted, reaching for her mom’s arm to tug her toward the opposite direction of the village. “We have to get good seats. I know it’s in like an hour, but you know right by the water is best for the fireworks and we should get there before everyone else does.”

“Sure thing sweetheart,” Y/N gave her daughter a one-armed hug, following Elizabeth and the other children toward the area they wanted to sit. When they were where they wanted to be, Joel moved in beside Y/N to drop down on the bench next to her.

“Can we talk?” Joel wondered, his breathing loud when she looked to the children. They seemed lost in talking to one another and probably wouldn’t bother to pay attention now that they were waiting for the most exciting part of the night. “We can just walk for a little bit. We aren’t going to lose them. They will be here for the next hour or so.”

Considering what Joel was asking of her, she knew it was probably for the best if they did get to talk. It had been a really long time since Joel had even attempted to have a conversation with her when the children weren’t involved.

“Hey, your dad and I are going to take a walk around the park. Watch your brother and call one of us if you need anything,” Y/N stood up from the bench seeing Elizabeth nod. Stepping in front of Peter, she reached out to brush her fingers through his dark hair and heard him huff. “Listen to your sister and stay here with her. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Peter waved his hand about before going back to laughing with Carl about something.

Following Joel off into the distance, Y/N wasn’t sure what to say to him when he nudged her slightly as they moved through the crowd, “Does this place bring back memories for you?”

“Lots of memories,” she remarked knowing that this place meant a lot to them when they were younger. Their job would start the first weekend of November and every weekend up all the way until Christmas. “We worked Christmas six years here. Lots of memories to be had. It was something else.”

“You were always so big on Christmas,” Joel recalled, clinging to his hot chocolate hearing the music that was playing from carolers in the distance. “After my parents died, I hated it.”

There was a silence when Y/N looked to him surprised, “I never told you because you loved it so much. It always reminded me of the things that I lost with my parents. You know how they were when it was Christmas. I could never do what they did. They weren’t great parents. We both know that, but they made it special the best way they could. And Tommy loved them so much. Christmas just reminded me that there was a piece of me that was always missing.”

“I’m sorry,” she didn’t know what to say when they stopped at the tree that was at the middle of the village. It was the biggest one and it was decorated with so many lights that it lit up Joel’s face perfectly. “I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t want you to know that. Because I knew it made you happy,” Joel reasoned with her, his shoulders shrugging when he thought about their past together. “I made myself love Christmas because you did. And then Elizabeth did too. You two were enough to lift my spirits with the way you would get excited.”

Swallowing down hard, Y/N nodded and wasn’t sure of what to say next, “You know, when I picked you up tonight it reminded me of when we were younger. How I would park the car in front of your house, wait to pick you up. You’d run out the door with a kick to your step and each night here felt like it was a date for us. We had fun with it. You reminded me of that girl tonight.”

“Just a lot older,” she half laughed, looking down at herself with what she was wearing.

“Just as pretty,” Joel retorted watching the surprise in her features. It had been a while since he had complimented her like that. By the way color flushed into her cheeks, he could tell that she liked it. “It felt like we were going on another date again when I picked you up. You look really nice.”

“Oh yeah? Bundled up like frosty the snowman?” she chuckled getting him to laugh. “I’m sure I look great after walking around in this cold.”

“You do,” Joel reached out to sweep his fingertips in over the side of her face and under her chin. “Do you remember when we would be working and the two of us would sneak off during the fireworks? We knew we’d have to clean up and close things down, but with everyone busy with the fireworks…”

“We could have been fired,” she exclaimed with a laugh, leaning into his touch. He couldn’t help but smirk with her reaction to his comment. “Especially when we’d go off to one of the houses or the buildings. They have cameras now. Back then, they didn’t have many.”

“We weren’t making that much money anyways,” Joel recognized with a wrinkle of his nose, tipping in closer to rest his forehead against hers when he laughed. “I wouldn’t have cared if we were caught because I was just…addicted to you.”

“We were stupid,” she thought back to their younger selves and the risks they used to take just to be with one another. “There were so many people here.”

“Yeah, but you put on a fireworks show and people just don’t care,” Joel stated with a shake of his head. Just like how things were now. Everyone was desperate to get a good seat to see the fireworks that they really didn’t care about the rest of the village and what it had to offer. “In a way, it was a different kind of sex every time we hopped into a different historical house or building. It was like time travel sex and it always turned me on.”

“You are so weird, what we did was crazy,” she swatted at his shoulder, enjoying the way that he laughed. It had been so long since they had been this relaxed with one another. A breath caught in her throat when she noticed the way that Joel looked down at her lips. “Joel?”

“Crazy or madly in love?” Joel debated, leaning in just enough for his lips to brush faintly over hers. A tremoring breath escaped her lips. Just by the closeness of him like this, it had her desperate to be near him. Sweeping his glove covered thumb in over her jawline had her tipping her head back. Her eyelashes fluttered to a close allowing him to steal a kiss from her lips. Both of her palms pressed in over the center of his chest to brace herself. It had been a while since the two of them kissed like this. Compared to the cool winter air surrounding them, the warmth of her mouth against his was very welcomed. Growing in strength, each caress of his lips over hers had her pressing in closer to him wanting to be near. After a few more kisses, Joel grumbled when she stepped back to pull away. She was trembling, her lips agape with her breathing heavy. “What is it?”

“We can’t have them see us kissing,” she cautioned reminding him of their children. Even though they were further into the village and not incredibly near the water, there was still that chance that Elizabeth or Peter could have gotten up to see them kissing there. “They might get the wrong idea with things and…”

“We’re far enough away,” Joel muttered, yet she still seemed worried. Tossing what he had left of his hot chocolate in the nearest trashcan, Joel waved her forward. Extending his hand out to hers, he could tell that she was deeply considering whether to take it or not. Once she finally did grab his hand, he hooked his fingers with hers leading her through the crowd. She didn’t know how to respond when he took her back toward the front of the village. Leaving wasn’t something they should have been doing with their children still there, but Joel explained to the guard that they had to grab something from the car. After getting the okay, Joel dragged her through the parking lot leaving her curious as to what was happening. It didn’t take long for her to find out because soon Joel had grabbed a hold of her, firmly pressing her back against the SUV. Stepping in close to her, Joel trapped her between him and the vehicle causing her to gasp out. Reaching for the cup that she was still carrying, Joel carelessly dropped it down on the ground beside them. Hovering his lips over hers told him everything he needed to know by the sounds that she made. “We have until the fireworks are over. The children are fine. They aren’t gonna move and there no cameras out here. I reckon you know that just as much as I do.”

“And what is it you want to do?” she exhaled loudly with Joel using his teeth to pull off his first glove. Shoving that one into his pocket, he hastily put the other one away as well. Lifting his hands up, he cupped at her face drawing her mouth closer to him. In that moment it felt like the world was spinning around her. There was something in the way that Joel Miller could look at her that took her breath away. His eyelids grew heavy with want, hovering his mouth just over hers. “Joel?”

“I think you know,” Joel slurred, dragging his bottom lip over hers and it rewarded him with a purr from her.

Sliding his left hand down had his fingers curling around her throat. Gliding his right up allowed his thumb to caress over her bottom lip, dragging it slowly over her flesh. Almost instinctively she started to press kisses against the pad of his thumb, wincing when he applied a small amount of pressure at her throat. Collecting her lips with his, Joel was passionate in the way that he kissed her. Barely taking time to separate between breaths. Nibbling at her bottom lip had her fingers sliding up over the back of his neck to sink them into his messy, dark hair. It seemed that talking about their past had rekindled the flame that existed between the two of them leaving them both hungry to kiss the other. Sliding his hand down, Joel’s fingers found the zipper in her jacket and he tugged firmly at it. Pushing the material aside, Joel dropped his hands grasping firmly to her hips. Taking a moment to break away from the kiss, Joel’s forehead pressed to hers. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, Joel liked the way she trembled in his grasp. Taking his time, Joel started to lazily palm up over the sides of her body. It drew her lips to part and he took advantage tracing the tip of his tongue over her sensitive flesh.

“I miss being able to touch you,” Joel confessed, allowing his fingers to slide up under the bottom of the sweater that she was wearing. Panting, she lowered her head to watch the movement and he nuzzled his nose in against the side of her face. Even though it was freezing outside, they both felt like their bodies were on fire. Once the roughness of his fingers collided with her flesh beneath the sweater, it had her whimpering out. Smiling against her cheek, Joel started peppering wet kisses over her jawline, toward the side of her neck. Leaving occasional nips at her flesh left her to start faintly moaning at the sensation. These were things he knew that she liked when they were younger. It was so easy to have her melting in the palm of his hand. Pressing his kisses closer to her lips, Joel stopped when he reached them. Hovering his mouth over hers, an arrogant smile tugged at his lips with how much she was yearning to be kissed by him again. Starting slow, Joel pressed tiny kisses at her lips. And she returned the gesture. “I miss being able to kiss you.”

Each kiss grew in strength having her lips parting allowing him to flick his tongue against hers. A sweetness still lingered from their hot chocolates, but it wasn’t something that either one of them were turning away. Sucking faintly at his tongue had Joel growling out, closing the distance between them more. In that moment, it had started snowing again. Small flurries were surrounding them and he tipped his head to look at it. Laughing, he buried his head against the side of her neck. Tracing his fingers down over her ribcage had her arching forward toward him.

“I see the way you still look at me,” Joel slurred, nibbling at her bottom lip when she clung to his jacket. Flattening out his palm, he traced a line from her navel, over her abdomen and toward her breast. Squeezing in over her breast through the material of her bra had her cooing out. “You still look at me the same way you did when we were young. I know how you feel about me. Like I said, you were never able to hide anything from me.”  

“Joel,” she panted when his fingers dropped down to open the button in her pants. She should have cared more that they were still out in the middle of a public place, but she didn’t. All that mattered in that moment were the two of them. A firm tug of the zipper in her pants had her hips pulling forward. Joel wasn’t being gentle about the way he was doing things. Locking his eyes with hers, Joel firmly pushed his hand between the material of her pants. The direct contact from the warmth of his palm had her eyes slamming shut. Caressing at the most intimate parts of her body through the thin material of her panties had Joel hissing out.

“Why deny ourselves the chance of feeling good? Of being happy?” Joel nipped at her jawline enjoying the sounds of her soft moans. Adjusting his position, he managed to get his hand beneath her panties. It had her burying her nose against the side of his neck, breathing out his name. “Let’s enjoy this moment. Act like we’re young again, running off together.”

Words were hard to form with how her body was reacting to Joel’s touch. Lowering her hand down, her fingers curled firmly around Joel’s wrist when she felt the roughness of his fingertips circling her clitoris. Dropping her head back against the car opened up her neck to allow his wet kisses to cover it. Involuntarily, her hips started to move against the sensations that he was building up inside of her.

It was then the sound of a car door closing in the distance was heard. A wet sound followed with Joel pulling his mouth away from her neck. Instantaneously, Joel pushed forward to hide what he was doing in case someone walked by them. Thankfully, he could see that the person was far out in the distance. Continuing with his caress had fear flooding into her eyes with him not stopping. There was no stopping him now that he started.

“Not out here,” she tugged on his jacket getting him to smirk. Following her toward the car, they managed to get the back door open of the SUV. Letting her get in first, Joel was quick to follow and even quicker to close the door behind him. Once they were inside, Joel was eagerly tugging at his jacket to get it off. And once he did? He was throwing it into the way back so it didn’t take up any space. Sliding forward, he helped her to get her jacket off. There was no haste to his movements. Immediately after he tossed her jacket aside, he was helping to get her sweater pulled up the lengths of her abdomen. “What if people walk by and see us?”

“They won’t,” Joel tried to assure her knowing that by her kisses, it wasn’t going to be much of a big deal for her.

Grunting out, Joel managed to get her to lift her arms so he could drop the sweater down beside them. Badly he wanted to touch her. Caress at the lengths of her body, but he was quick to reach for her bra. He wanted her. And he wanted her now. Tugging at the material of her bra, Joel got the cup down. His mouth eagerly covering the part of her breast that was revealed to him. Humming against her flesh had her crying out, her fingers sinking into his hair again.

Sweeping his tongue around her nipple allowed them to fall back into things so easily. He had always loved her breasts and enjoyed pampering them. Circling the taut nub with the warmth of his tongue had her back arching up toward him. Nibbling and sucking at the flesh, Joel’s hand pressed in over the small of her back to lead her closer to make things easier for them. Between them, her hands had dropped down working to find his belt. When she found it, she swiftly unhooked it with the material jangling. Adjusting his hips, Joel noticed that she was attempting to open his pants. They were craving each other like he couldn’t believe. She was shaking as she got the material of his jeans opened. Working with the denim she was able to dip her hand beneath his jeans to palm in over his manhood through his boxer briefs. Grunting against her breast led her to purr out which only fueled him further.

“Good girl,” he slurped at her flesh, his head tipping back just enough to watch what this was doing to her.  

Chills were flooding her body with how quickly they fell into this again. With every touch, his hips would arch forward into her caress. Leaving her to feel his erection growing harder against her touch. Nipping at her flesh a final time, Joel kissed up over her breast toward her collar bone. It sent a rush throughout her body. Sliding his left hand up over the opposite side of her neck, Joel led her to him so he could kiss her more passionately. Quickly remembering the things that she liked when they were together.

A loud surprised breath escaped her lips when Joel reached down to hook his fingers into the top of her jeans. The yank had her falling back against the seat with Joel pulling her hips up toward him while he worked the material of her pants from her legs along with her panties. In the cramped space it was hard to get it off of her, having to stop to pull off her boots when he got to her feet. Tossing her pants aside, Joel curled his arms under her knees pulling her in closer to him. It was amazing just how strong Joel was and he was showing his strength with how easily he was moving her around. Urging her legs up over his shoulders, Joel lifted her hips enough to start pressing wet kisses at the inside of her thigh.

It was an awkward position for her body to be in, but with Joel’s arms wrapped around her and holding her hips in place she knew that she wasn’t going anywhere. There was a soft scratching from his facial hair at her flesh while he pampered her thighs with wet kisses, each one growing closer to her core. Bracing herself, Y/N tried to make herself more comfortable. Most of her weight that Joel wasn’t holding onto was on her shoulders while Joel had her hips lifted up for him.

Slamming her eyes shut, she felt Joel’s mouth finally cover her most intimate parts with his growl of satisfaction following once the taste of her touched his tongue. Every kiss, every flick of Joel’s tongue over her body felt so much more enhanced. It had felt like it had been an eternity since the two of them fell into one another. Maybe with the idea of being caught lingering in the back of her mind made her feel everything so much more.

It had been so long since Joel had done this. And actually enjoyed doing this. Everything he was doing showed that he was determined. Clinging tightly to her made sure that she couldn’t wiggle free while he feasted on her pussy, eating her out and having her a trembling mess in his arms. Slurping faintly at her clitoris and folds had her arching up toward him. God, he loved it. Hearing her whimpering out his name while he pleasured her did a lot for his ego. When they were together in the past she had told him that he was a greedy lover toward the end of it, so he was doing his best to focus on her and show her what he was capable of.

Shaking his head from side to side, Joel tried to add some force to his movements. Desperately she was clinging to anything on him that she could grab. Breaking away for a moment to take a breath, Joel couldn’t help but smile at the way she squirmed. Desperate to have him go back to what he was doing.

Licking his lips, Joel lowered her slightly keeping his left hand still hooked around her while his fingers caressed at her sensitive bundle of nerves. Focusing on her entrance, Joel suckled and licked listening to her panting with the combined sensation of what he was doing. Prodding his tongue inside of her, Joel slurped at her body. Following was one of the most intoxicating moans he had heard in a very long time. Cries filled the SUV with him incredibly focused on getting her to an orgasm. And by the way that she was tensing up in his grasp? He could tell that she was close. Soon her hips started to rock against his movements, his mouth finding its way up to her clit. Focusing on and teasing it with his talented mouth.

And there it was, the repeated cries of pleasure once he got her to an orgasm. Having her hips shaking against him made him realize that he was perfectly capable of pleasuring her. Allowing her to lower her hips to the seat, Joel started to work open the buttons of the green flannel that he was wearing. How loud her breathing was showed him just how much he worked her body up with what he had done.

“You feeling good?” Joel wondered pushing the material of his shirt to the sides to reveal his torso to her. Truthfully? He didn’t need her to answer that question. He knew that she felt good. It was evident in every part of her body. She was already drunk on him and it turned him on so much.

Starting at her hip, Joel dragged his fingertips up over her side, under her rib cage and then cupped at the underside of her breast. Sweeping his thumb over the swell of her nipple had her arching up toward him and he hummed.

Realizing that her breathing was heavy, she just gave Joel a nod with her back arching up toward his touch. It was then she remembered something that Tommy said to her earlier in the day. Joel liked to be dominated. And she was letting him control every part of this.

Using the strength that she had, she lifted up pushing her hands into the center of Joel’s chest. Grunting out, Joel fell back against the door. Surprise filled his chocolate-colored eyes with her crawling in closer to him. Bracing his back against the door, Joel’s breathing grew louder with the way she looked. Fuck, her taking charge like that was incredibly hot. Hell, he was impressed. She had fire to her when they were younger, but toward the end of their marriage she had grown pretty relaxed and open to whatever he wanted. This? This was hot.

Hissing out with her fingers curling around his throat had his head tipping back against the door. A chill ran right through him with a wince falling from his throat. Pressure was being applied to the soft, fleshy part of his throat with her thumb as she moved in over him.

“You are so fucking hot,” Joel slurred, biting down on his bottom lip with her hovering her mouth just over his. She was teasing him, but he loved it. Attempting to press in closer to her to bring their lips together had her shoving him further back against the door.

Working his opened shirt down his shoulders, she purposely made the material get stuck near his biceps so he would have a hard time moving his arms in any fashion. His eyebrows furrowed, his chest falling and rising faster with his breathing growing louder.

Putting a bit more pressure at his neck had Joel wincing out, but something flooded into his eyes. Desire. It was burning in his veins when she forcefully lowered down to bring their lips together in a kiss that took her breath away. Joel was hungry. Passionate and it was all the things they had been missing in their relationship at the end. Kissing down over his jaw, her fingers remained around his throat until she reached his chest. Nibbling at his flesh, she allowed her fingers to slip from his neck down over his chest. It caused him to hiss out when she pinched at his nipple, but he arched in closer to her. Kissing down over his stomach, she took her time between her wet kisses and the tiny bites she left over his body. Once she got to his pants, she tugged them firmly down to his knees hearing him grunt. There was something in the way he was looking at her that had chills flowing down her spine. It had been a long time since Joel looked at her like that.

Stealing a glance at the dark green and red boxer briefs that were clinging to Joel’s erection made her smile, “Very festive.”

“That wasn’t purposeful,” Joel snorted, amused that they could still giggle about something as simple as that in the heat of the moment.

Lowering her head down she teased kisses over the material. Kissing over the shaft of his manhood had his hips bouncing up toward her, but she used a bit of force to push them down back into place. After a few more kisses, she reached for the black waistband of the boxer briefs to pull them down his hips and to his thighs. With a smacking sound, Joel’s erection rest against his lower abdomen. Tracing her fingertips over his shaft had his eyelids growing heavy. God knows how many times they had sex together, but the sight of Joel’s cock always took her breath away.

Keeping her eyes hooked on his for a moment longer, she started pressing feather like kisses over the shaft hearing his groan follow. They were wet, hot kisses that had his breathing getting louder. Curling her fingers around the base of his cock allowed her to start stroking over his flesh, sheathing him in her grasp. Teasing the flesh of Joel’s uncut, girthy cock in her hand had him groaning with his hips slightly arching up toward her.

“Be a good boy for Christmas this year, Joel,” she slurred, lowering down to drag her tongue across the tip having him hiss out. “Let me control this for a few.”

With a nod, Joel knew she was asking him to let her do her thing. Her lips were wet with her tongue flicking out slightly with every kiss. Watching her closely had Joel’s heart racing in his chest. More than anything he wanted her to take him into her mouth, but she was purposely holding off. Each caress of her lips over the ridges of his cock grew stronger and wetter. It had his length twitching with anticipation and she smiled. Finally taking him between her lips had him moaning out. It was a surprise since Joel was never much of a verbal lover. So she enjoyed hearing it. It was quiet, but it was loud enough to hear. It had her shuddering with excitement, the heat at her core aching. Unhurriedly, she lowered her head over his length, taking only a small amount. That alone had him inhaling sharply. Dragging her tongue along his flesh drew him to wiggle, but he couldn’t move much with his shirt locked at his arms like she had done it. Each drop down of her head had her taking him farther back into her throat. It was teasing him, but he seemed to like it. Pulling back with a wet sound, she caressed her palm over his flesh before lowering down to pepper kisses near the base toward his testicles.

“Shit,” Joel hissed out, his eyes slamming shut when she took her time focusing fully on him. When she started to kiss up over his hip toward his abdomen, he felt like he was breathless and his eyes were locked on her every movement. “You want me to beg, don’t you?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” she smirked, looking up just enough for Joel to drop his head back with a grunt. “What do you want?”

“Please just suck my cock,” Joel begged of her eliciting a smile from her lips. Giving him a nod, she got more comfortably in over him. Curling her fingers around the base, she dragged her tongue across the tip. Forcing himself to keep his eyes open, he watched her closely with her lips wrapping around the tip. Exhaling heavily, he was glad that he did ask for it because she did exactly what he wanted. Her head lowered down slowly with a wet sound before pulling back up. Circling the sensitive tip with the warmth of her wet tongue before lowering down again. Each movement grew faster having his lips part. “That’s it…”

Watching her pleasuring him was intoxicating. Not only did it feel good, but it looked like she was enjoying herself. And that to him was so incredibly sexy. Doing as she asked, he let her have her way with him. But he had nothing to complain about, it felt good with her head bobbing over his length in steady movements. By the time she pulled her mouth from his manhood with a wet sound it had him moaning out.

Crawling in over him, she was careful in the way she moved. Getting her bra off of her completely, she dropped the material to the side. It felt nice to have Joel looking at her like this. And it fueled her. “You are so fucking hot.”

Smirking, she reached with her left hand to grab Joel’s hands in hers forcing them back over his head against the glass window. Keeping them braced there she reached between them with her other hand. Rocking her hips forward had the length of his shaft teasing through her wet slit and he winced out. When the tip teased over her clitoris it had her cooing with the sensation. Lining up their bodies, she took her time in lowering down over him. It had been a while for her so even though she was being dominant, she was going to take the time to let her body open back up to the man beneath her.

It was obvious that Joel wasn’t used to her taking charge. At least not for a long time. As she took all of him into her, bottoming out, it had his head lifting from the door. Staring down at their bodies, Joel’s lips parted and he groaned. It was short lasted before his lips desperately found hers. Circling her hips allowed his body to slightly pull from hers and then go back again. It was nice to feel full again with Joel inside of her. Stretching her.

“Does that feel good?” she purred with her slow and steady movements. Starting small before growing in strength. Joel’s dark eyes were locked on her, his fingers curling into fists from where they were pressed against the window. There was something arrogant about her in the moment and he liked it. She was using his cock in the ways that she pleased. Riding him with confidence in steady, firm movements. “Does it?”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel swallowed down, pressing forward to nibble at her bottom lip. Tugging faintly at it, Joel flicked his tongue out over the inside of her bottom lip getting her to purr. Her right hand was braced against his abdomen to steady her when she lifted her hips to the tip only to bury him deeply inside of her again. Repeating those motions got Joel to be more verbal than he had been in a long time. That was what she was aiming for. It made her feel good that she could draw that out from him. Once her movements started to grow in strength, Joel wondered if someone walked by they could tell what was happening. He kind of hoped they could. Then again, she was riding him so hard he assumed the SUV was likely shaking. “So good.”

Soon she was bouncing her hips over his, her cries of pleasure filling the SUV. Watching her fucking herself on his cock had Joel’s blood boiling inside of his body with absolute euphoria. It was quite the sight and he was so glad that she actually agreed to this.

“That’s it,” Joel coached with a growl, his brow line creasing when she took all of him with ease at this point. “That’s so good. Ride that cock honey.”

Leaning in over him, she dropped his hands and they instantly went to her hips. Her right arm hooked around his shoulders, her left sinking her fingers into his thick hair while she worked herself faster over him. Burying his nose against the side of her neck, Joel gifted her flesh with wet kisses. Each forceful thrust back over his cock felt amazing. There was still a chill in the car that was around them, so that contrast of her tight canal taking him repeatedly felt phenomenal.

“Don’t…” Joel whined when she pulled her hips up and away from him. Trying to stop her from leaving, she motioned him to sit up on the seat having him huff out. Turning away from him, he helped her lower her hips back in over him in the reverse cowgirl position. Her fingers curled tightly into the flesh of his thighs. “Goddamn…”

Joel’s hands slid up her abdomen toward her breasts to cup them firmly while he kissed at the side of her neck. There was that involuntary want to bounce his hips up toward her, but she was so focused in what she was doing and how she felt that Joel just let her have her way. Dropping his fingers down, Joel’s palm pressed between her thighs. Circling her clitoris with his rough fingertips had her mewling out, her fingers digging even further into his thighs.  

“You missed this, didn’t you?” Joel questioned, reaching up with his other hand to curl his fingers around her throat pulling her back against him. Quickening the motion of his fingers had her crying out with the sensation. “Brace yourself…”

Joel’s hips started bouncing up matching her movements. His testicles smacked up against her while he pounded into her matching the tempo of his fingers. Noticing her shaking, Joel knew she was on the verge of another orgasm. So he kept up at it until he heard her moaning out his name. Fuck, having her body tense up like that felt amazing. The contracting of her tight warmth that surrounded his cock was addicting.

“I missed this,” Joel alerted her, forcing her to get on her knees in the backseat. Grabbing her hips, he moved her how he needed her. Swiftly, his hips smacked up against her when he sank his length back into her tight body. Each thrust was hard having her bounce forward with a cry. “I’ve missed this ass so much.”

Joel smacked firmly over it appreciating the way her whimper followed. Watching his cock sinking into her and pulling out was a beautiful sight for him. One he hadn’t watched in quite some time. Soon his thrusts were strong leading her to crawl forward on the seat, but he reached out to press down into her shoulders to lower her face down against the leather. Sinking his fingers into her hair, he pushed at the back of her head getting her cheek to press firmly against the seat. A bright light flooded the sky making him smirk when he realized the fireworks started.

“We’ve still got a few,” Joel alerted her with a grunt, pounding into her at this point with her cries filling the air. Every hard forward thrust filled the car with a loud smacking sound. “Your sweet little pussy always took my fat cock so well, didn’t it?”

“Joel,” she muttered, her breathing growing uneven when he reached for her wrists to pull them behind her back. Collecting them in one hand, Joel’s other hand went back to keeping a pressure between her shoulders. Even though Tommy said that Joel liked to be dominated, she could tell by the way he was having sex with her that he still like having that control. “Please…”

“We’ll get you to come, don’t whine,” Joel hushed her using the strength that he had built up to continue to fuck her hard. Each smack of his hips against her ass was loud. Plunge after plunge of his cock had the wet sounds of their bodies flooding the car. It was a little uncomfortable with her face buried into the seat, her ass up and her arms behind her back. But Joel moving inside of her felt good and by his breathing she could tell he liked it. “You’re shaking. Don’t fight it.”

Breathless moans followed when he forcefully bottomed out inside of her when he felt her orgasm start. Staying still had her trying to pull her hips forward, but he didn’t allow her. Groaning out, he looked down with the light from the fireworks flooding into the car so he saw things differently. He was overstimulating her body. And he loved the way it looked and sounded.

“No one knows your body like I do,” Joel pulled out of her, leaving her a shaking mess after he brought her to another orgasm. “Lay back so you can see the fireworks. I want you to see fireworks when I come inside of you.”

Breathless, she tried to move, but everything ached. Everything was spinning, her heart was hammering in her chest. It was the best kind of hurting, but her body was shaking. A liquid warmth was still rushing through her veins, her core tremoring.

Of course Joel helped get her where he wanted her, lowering carefully down in over her. Resting himself between her thighs, Joel curled one arm around her waist to bring her up so he could sink his length back into her while the other braced against the seat. Tipping his head back, Joel bit down on his bottom lip and hummed.

“I don’t think you knew what you were capable of making me do with this pussy,” Joel admitted, lowering down in over her with her sinking her fingers into his hair. Meeting her lips in a sloppy kiss, Joel’s thrusts started again and he groaned out against her flesh. “You were always so capable of making me do whatever you wanted when we were younger.”

Hearing her moaning out his name had chills flooding his body. Bracing both of his hands on the seat, Joel’s hips eagerly bounced forward craving to reach his release knowing that the fireworks weren’t extremely long. Wincing, Joel felt his balls tightening up and he knew that he was close to coming. Having Y/N kissing at the side of his neck felt amazing when the first twitch of his cock inside of her had her whimpering against his flesh.

Continuing to kiss her through his orgasm, Joel’s hips kept up with the pace of his thrusts until he let out a final grunt against the side of her neck. Soft strokes of her fingers through his wet hair was felt. The cold inside of the car suddenly felt hot around them and smelled of sex.

“Fuck,” Joel’s breathing was loud with him pressing a final kiss against the side of her neck. It felt nice to have her touching him and holding onto him the way she was. It had been a while since someone had admired him like this. The windows were steamed over from their moment when he lifted his head and smiled. Grunting out, he pulled his hips away from her and got to his knees. She seemed to whine as his body left hers and it made him chuckle. Once his manhood hit the cold air, it twitched and he huffed loudly. Pulling her closer to him, he pushed her thighs apart and watched the way that his cum started to spill from her body. “We need to clean you up.”

Leaning over the front seat, Joel reached for the tissues and he gave a smirk when he started cleaning his release from her flesh. With a wink, Joel fell back against the opposite end of the seat. Tugging his jeans and his boxer briefs up over his hips had him sighing. “I reckon that’s the biggest orgasm I’ve had in a very long time.”

“So you liked it?” she inquired, having a harder time with working her clothes back over her body. Once she was done, she laid in over Joel and his fingers reached up to sweep at the hair that was clinging to her damp flesh. Leading her to him, Joel peppered her lips with small kisses and it had the both of them smiling.

“It was so much better than the last few times we were together,” Joel announced with a loud swallow nipping at her bottom lip. “If our sex was more like that toward the end of our marriage, we probably would still be together with a few more kids.”

Fuck. After saying that it had her tensing up over him. Cussing under his breath, he watched her head pulling back to look him over. What was once a euphoric expression now seemed to be replaced with a hurt one.

Hesitantly letting out an uncomfortable laugh, he lifted his hands in a defensive motion and shook his head, “I didn’t mean it like that.”  

“Yes, you did,” she visibly caught onto the comment that while may have been innocent insinuated that sex with her was not good while they were married which is why they were no longer together. Noticing the color changing in her face, Joel swiftly started to button up his shirt realizing that this was headed in a bad direction. Some of his buttons were fucked up and he was attempting to fix them when she started heading for the door. Extending his fingers out, he firmly curled them around her wrist to stop her from leaving the SUV. “Forget it Joel. You got your fuck in, now it’s over. Obviously, you were just horny and wanted to fuck.”

“Come on,” Joel almost begged of her. He was at a loss of words. “You have to admit that when we were having sex during certain parts of our marriage it was really boring.”

Shit. That didn’t work either with her face twisting with upset, “I just mean we used to be this spontaneous couple that would get to have hot, amazing sex and then we became two parents sneaking sex in on a schedule of when we could get it. Either when the children were gone or sleeping.”

“That’s what parents do Joel,” she reminded him hearing him scoff when she pulled her wrist back from him. Reaching up, he slicked his hair back and let out an uneasy sound. “I’m sorry sex from me wasn’t good enough for you.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t good, I just said it was boring,” Joel repeated his earlier words, throwing his hands up in the air when he started to buckle together his belt. If he would have known he would upset her this much he would have kept his mouth shut. Which really? He knew he should have done. That wasn’t the kind of thing someone would want to hear right after sex like that.

“We had sex after we got divorced too,” she pointed out having Joel shrug his shoulders and shake his head. There were times when Joel would come over to the house. Sometimes they would fight and end up having sex. Other times he would show up drunk acting sad and they would sleep together. But every time? It never brought him back. “Was that boring too?”

“I don’t know,” Joel grumbled under his breath being flustered with the way she was asking the questions. Right now her feelings were hurt and he understood that. “Maybe I just don’t remember because you weren’t the last person I had sex with. Maybe I’m confusing you with Tess. I don’t know.”

“That’s great. You’re confusing me with your ex-girlfriend. That’s just great,” her eyes were damp and Joel regretted saying what he did because he clearly upset her more than she cared to admit. It felt like he was trying to throw a jab in there reminding her that he had an ex-girlfriend that he was sleeping with. “You know you’re the last person that I slept with Joel. Before tonight. It was still you.”

“As you like to remind me. I know I’m the only man you’ve had sex with,” Joel almost mocked her hearing the offended breath falling from her throat. Whenever Joel got angry his southern drawl would grow deeper. “It’s not my fault that you couldn’t find someone else after we got divorced. Maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight if you actually got laid sometimes.”

“And there he is,” she reached up to wipe at her tears that were burning at her face. “You make me believe that there is something between us still, you lead me on, you get me to sleep with you and then the old you just comes back out. I’m so fucking stupid for thinking that you still loved me.”

“You’re taking this too personal,” Joel tried to stress reaching for her again, but she was quick to leave the SUV. Groaning out, Joel followed quickly after her, snatching his jacket and pulling it on while he stumbled on the wet snow. “Can we just talk, please?”

“The fireworks are going to be over soon and the children will be looking for us,” she sniffled, looking toward the entrance of the village knowing that their children were at the opposite end of it. Keeping a good distance between the two of them, she knew that she didn’t want to talk to him right now. “We can’t do this right now.”

“Just fucking wait,” Joel demanded, grabbing a tight hold of her wrist, forcing her back toward him as the firework show still continued in the sky. “Ellie is seventeen years old. She’s not a baby anymore. And Peter is thirteen. She can handle him. They are gonna be fine.”

“Joel,” she placed her hand in over the center of his chest trying to put some distance between them.

“I was seventeen when we got together Y/N. We were still kids,” Joel started, drawing her to listen to him when he pulled her back. This whole situation had him frustrated. “And then we got pregnant young. We married young. The two of us were all we ever really knew.”  

“What are you trying to get at Joel?” she pushed struggling to get him to release her, but he wouldn’t. Right now it felt like the world was crumbling down all around her. What had started off as a hopeful moment had turned into something with a very shitty ending. “I was happy. I loved my life. You’re the one that was miserable and let me know it in every way possible.”

“I was depressed. I gave up my life,” Joel stressed, his voice growing raspier when his southern drawl grew just like it did every time he was upset. “I was the star quarterback Y/N. I was about to go off to college. I worked hard for it and then my life fell apart. I always assumed that maybe we’d break up when I went to college. We’d both go out, be young for a while and enjoy life. But my life fell to shit. I deserved that life. I know you meant well and you never gave up on me, so I never gave up on you. But not being able to do what I was destined for sucked. I could have been a sports star like Negan Smith. I could have become a singer like I wanted. Instead I got fucking stuck here in the town that I never liked to begin with.”

“You’re not the only one that didn’t get the life that they wanted Joel,” she recalled feeling an ache at the center of her chest hearing him just drop that bomb on her. “I’m just the only one that adjusted and dealt with it.”

“Yeah, but I was a sure shot,” Joel scoffed realizing that she had dreams too, but those were things she had to eventually work to try to get. He was offered a full ride to college for his skills. All he had to do was go and he couldn’t.

Tipping her head to the side, she angrily smiled and let out a tense laugh. That was his way of saying her dreams weren’t as important as his were.

Rolling his eyes, Joel let go of her arm firmly and rest his hands on his hips, “You know, I’m trying here. I’ve been a good dad. I never stopped being a good dad.”

“You’re right. You’re an amazing dad,” she stressed reaching up to rub at her arm where he had grabbed her feeling a sense of pain there. “Good for you Joel. I’m proud of you. Now please let me go get our children.”

“How are we ever going to be okay again if we can’t talk?” Joel called out when she went to leave again finding himself infuriated with the situation. “I’ve tried talking to you. I meant the things that I said to you. I miss the way things used to be. At the beginning of our relationship, it was so much fun.”

“Yeah, and then I got pregnant because we had too much fun,” she pointed out hearing him sigh again. “And then we had to have responsibilities. We had to be adults because we were raising a little girl. We couldn’t be that fun couple anymore.”

“I don’t regret being a father,” Joel claimed, reaching up to place his hand in over the center of his chest. “It’s the best thing in my life that I’ve done. Peter and Ellie mean everything to me. I don’t blame them at all for the things…the things that I lost in life.”

“No, you just blamed me,” she let out a whimpering breath causing Joel to drop his head down. “I’m not the person that made you have sex with me without a condom. You said that it felt better without a condom and I took the birth control like I was supposed to. It’s not my fault that it didn’t work. You did a good job hiding being miserable from the kids, but you never let me forget just how awful you thought your life was. You know what? No. I won’t say that. I’ll give you credit for the first part of our marriage. You hid it really well. It was toward the end that you let it show.”

“You know what I lost out on,” Joel reminded her, his dark eyes lifting when he shrugged.

“How could I forget? You reminded me so often,” she scoffed trying to wipe at her eyes again. Having hope for something that was never going to happen was one of the worst pains she had experienced. Hoping that something would come out of this was her problem. Hope got her a lot of heartache in the last few years and there was nothing that would change it now. “My mistake is thinking that you could ever love me again. Or that you never stopped loving me. There was a reason we got divorced. I just live in this fantasy world where I still believe that we can fix everything.”

“We can,” Joel suggested hearing her laugh and it frustrated him. “Our children hate us being divorced. If you weren’t so stubborn…”

“Dad!” a voice called out and Joel grunted when a weight jumped into his arms. Groaning out, he wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him up. Peter’s arms wrapped around Joel’s shoulders and he squeezed his arms tightly around him. In their fighting, neither of them noticed that the fireworks had stopped and people were starting to flood into the parking lot. “We were looking for you guys.”

“Sorry champ,” Joel pressed a loving kiss against Peter’s temple, his dark eyes locked on Y/N still when he braced his son in his arms. Elizabeth was approaching and Carl was with Lydia talking to her about fifty feet behind. “Your mother and I just started talking. We must have lost track of time.”

“Hey dad,” Elizabeth moved in beside Y/N who was doing her best to hide her hurt feelings from her children. It was something that she got really good at. “How about we take Carl and Lydia home and we all go out to dinner tonight? The four of us. Like we used to do after this event. We can go to that place that goes all out with the hot chocolates that we used to get. It’s been forever since we went there together. I know it stays open late. We used to have so much fun doing it.”

“That’s up to your mother,” Joel answered pointing in the direction of Y/N. He knew that she would never want to go anywhere with him right now, but it wasn’t going to be thrown on him if they didn’t go. “I’d love to go with all of you.”

“I’m sure you have better things to do Joel,” she suggested and he immediately shook his head, stroking his fingers over the back of Peter’s neck. “Things where you aren’t bored.”

“My night is free since the children were going to be with me anyways,” Joel repeated with a smirk, motioning Elizabeth closer to him. Balancing Peter in one arm, he managed to hook his other arm around their daughter to squeeze her close. “Ellie and Peter want to go, so come on…what do you say? Unless you have something better to do.”

“Liz, dad,” she corrected her father on what she wanted to be called and it had Joel huffing out. “Ellie just makes me sound like a little girl.”

“You are my little girl,” Joel grunted, nuzzling his nose against her temple. “You’re always going to be my Ellie. Your dad is old and locked in his ways.”

“I guess I’ll make an exception for you,” their daughter decided with a big smile and it hurt to see how much the children genuinely loved Joel. It wasn’t like he was abusive toward her. Just brutally honest. And they really had no idea how much he had broken her heart in the past. “Are we good to go mom?”

“Of course,” she agreed following them all into the car trying to hide her feelings by locking them deep down.

On the car ride to drop Lydia and Carl off at home, Joel outstretched his hand to place it over hers and she pulled it away from him. Trying to shut down, she stayed quiet until they were at the restaurant. Somehow she got lucky enough for them to end up in a booth and Joel hooked his arm around her shoulders while they sat at the booth. Having the children seeing them together like this was going to be bad. Especially since she could see it in their eyes when Joel kissed at her temple that they thought something was going on between them.

In the past, she would have swooned over this kind of opportunity. All she wanted over the last four years was to have Joel back. For them to be a family again. But after what he said? It just felt fake.

Even though this was his way of trying, it felt forced on her when she was upset and it made her unhappy. Pushing through dinner, she didn’t want to act miserable so she knew that she needed to talk, interact. After they had their dessert, they went home and the children wanted a movie night. Which meant they wanted to go back to her home and involve Joel. It was hard telling them no so she allowed it.

On the drive home they were quiet except for the children talking about what happened at the event. When they got home, it made her regret it because it reminded her of when they were younger coming home together as a family.

“Hey,” Joel stopped her when the children went in, grabbing a hold of the door. “Ellie, find something for us to watch, I want to talk to your mom for a second.”

“Got it!” Ellie called out while she bickered back and forth with Peter as Joel closed the door to give them some space.

“Y/N, I know I said the wrong thing,” Joel stammered from where they were standing on the porch of the home that they used to share together. With a frown, his hands went to his hips and he shifted his weight. “I have trouble saying the right thing. I know I do. Maybe tonight is a sign with me being here.”

Hearing his comment had a rush of heat flooding into her cheeks and Joel frowned, “I miss our home. I miss sleeping in my bed and I miss having you in my arms,” Joel reasoned with her and a hurt breath fell from her throat. “Maybe tonight we can try it again? When the movie is over. We can go to our bedroom. We can get ready for bed and we can sleep together. Like how things used to be.”

“Joel,” she began, folding her arms in front of her chest and lifting her head to meet the stare of the beautiful, brown eyes that she had fell in love with from the start. “It isn’t your bed anymore. This isn’t your house anymore. Your bed and your home are a block or two over with Tommy.”

Disappointment flooded his veins when she back stepped toward the door and grabbed a hold of the doorknob, turning it slightly to open it. It was then he realized how much he genuinely fucked up with what he said to her earlier.

“We can be civil with each other, but I know where this is headed. It’s headed in the same place that it is every time this happens. You are lonely. We have sex a few times. You realize it’s just the loneliness and you break my heart again. I don’t know how much of my heart is left,” she realized she sounded dramatic with the way that his eyes looked miserable while she spoke. “You can sleep on the couch after the movie is over. But in the morning, just go back home where you want to be.”

Going to open his mouth, Joel grumbled under his breath when she pushed open the door and stepped inside the home. Sure, what he said was honest, but he didn’t think it would ruin what they had been developing over the night.  But once again, there was no time for them to talk because they had to be with the children instead of getting to talk things out. And that made things hard.

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis

[wholoveseggs]

Dark Star {Part Five}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Five

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Elijah’s obsession with resurrecting you drives his family deeper into darkness, where alliances fray and unexpected lives are lost as Bonnie Bennett becomes their reluctant pawn. In the 13th century, love turns to betrayal as your forbidden bond with Elijah transforms under the weight of sin, faith, and the cruelty of vengeance.

8.3k words - Warnings: uhmmmm PAIN, death, destruction, full-throttle red door Elijah, so much angst, more hallucinations, Kol and Rebekah still being the ultimate duo, a tragic brotherly bond, compulsion, murder, MY QUEEN BONNIE BENNET && i'm sorry babes.... this is where it begins to HURT ... xoxo

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Six}

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13 century Europe

The walk into the forest this time wasn’t filled with excitement and joy; it was heavy with dread. Each step felt like a descent into darkness, a part of you wondering if you would ever leave these woods again. But the pull toward Elijah was stronger than your fear, dragging you forward against your instincts.

Your mind raced, trying to piece together Sister Claire’s death and what it meant for you. You couldn’t believe Elijah would hurt anyone, but something told you that he was connected, somehow, to the terrible fate she had met.

He was too perfect, too healthy, too beautiful. He had led you to sin so quickly… He had to be a demon. There was no other explanation.

A cold wind swept through the trees, and clouds slid over the moon, plunging the forest into near-total darkness. You quickened your pace, as if Elijah’s presence in the clearing ahead could shield you from the shadows pressing in on every side.

Finally, you reached the clearing. A dying fire cast faint embers over Elijah’s dark form as he sat by it, his head bowed, lost in thought. He looked up as you approached, his eyes catching the firelight, flickering with an unreadable intensity.

He stood and moved toward you without a word, the shadows sliding over his face, and your heart pounded with a sudden surge of fear. You took a step back, tripping over a tree root and collapsing onto the damp ground.

“Stay away from me,” you warned, scrambling back, the words barely audible.

Elijah stopped, his gaze softening as he searched your face. “I would never hurt you,” he murmured.

You shook your head, panic bubbling up inside you. “What did you do to Sister Claire? How did she end up dead, her throat torn out?”

His expression twisted with pain. “Do you think me capable of such a thing? After what we shared, after what we promised each other?"

You took a shaky breath, fighting the urge to run. "You have led me into sin, and now a woman is dead," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

"I had no hand in her death," Elijah said, his voice firm, but there was a guilty look in his eye.

"But you know who did," you said, the truth dawning on you.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping. “Yes,” he whispered, sorrow clouding his eyes.

Your heart sank, the betrayal burning inside you. He was a demon, a monster. And you had been blind to it.

“You’ve corrupted me,” you murmured, your voice full of anguish.

“No.” He shook his head slowly, earnestly. “I would never. What we share…it is pure.”

A surge of rage welled up, fanned by guilt and shame. “You’re a liar, all demons do is lie,” you spat, tears streaming down your face.

“I would never lay a hand on you. Not in a thousand lifetimes.” Elijah knelt beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your face, and you flinched away.

"Stay away from me," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Stay away from all of us."

You stumbled to your feet and ran, not daring to look back. You had been a fool, blinded by his beauty, seduced into sin. And now, a sister was dead because of it.

Branches scraped your face, roots snagged your feet, but you didn’t stop. The darkness pressed in, thick and suffocating, and each breath burned as you ran through the forest, terror clawing at your chest.

Just as your strength began to fail, you saw a light ahead and stumbled out of the trees onto the convent grounds. Relief flooded you, but before you could catch your breath, something slammed into you, knocking you off your feet.

You hit the ground hard, the impact stealing the air from your lungs. Dizzy, you looked up to find another figure looming over you. It was Klaus... Elijah’s demon brother... grinning down at you, fangs bared, his eyes glinting with malice.

“Hello, love,” he said, his voice a low growl.

“No!” you gasped, scrambling back, but he grabbed you by the hair, dragging you to your feet with ruthless strength.

Without warning, he bit into your neck, and an explosion of pain shot through you, raw and searing. You screamed, clawing at him, but his grip was unyielding, the world spinning as your blood drained away, leaving you cold and weak.

Darkness swallowed you, the last thing you heard was Elijah’s anguished cry, calling his brother’s name.

You felt nothing. You saw nothing, lost in the void. Your last thought was a broken prayer, a plea for forgiveness. And then, warm hands cradled your head, a voice calling you back.

“Elijah?” you murmured, confusion clouding your mind.

“Yes, I’m here,” he soothed, his voice a balm, a lifeline.

There was the sound of an argument nearby, Elijah’s voice rising, but you couldn’t make out the words. Cool liquid touched your lips, the taste of copper filling your mouth. You drank instinctively, the sweetness flooding your senses, warmth returning to your limbs.

Your eyes fluttered open, finding Elijah’s face above you, his expression etched with worry. You reached for him, and he pulled you close, holding you tight.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

The memories flooded back. “Klaus…he killed Sister Claire, didn’t he?”

Elijah nodded, his jaw clenched. “I’m afraid so.”

“But why?” you whispered, still reeling.

“It doesn’t matter,” he murmured, regret shadowing his gaze. “Just know, I would never have let him hurt you.”

You clung to him, your mind spinning. He was a demon, dangerous yet the man you loved. The truth settled over you, cold and heavy.

“You really are a demon…” The words were barely a breath.

He met your gaze, pain flickering in his eyes. “Almost.”

Panic rose, and you tried to pull away, but his arms tightened, holding you close.

“Please, don’t be afraid,” he murmured.

“Let me go,” you whispered, fighting the ache in your chest.

Reluctantly, he released you, and you stumbled back, a final look of heartbreak passing between you before you turned and fled toward the convent, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The weight of his existence pressed down on you, a dark and terrible revelation. You loved him... and in that love, you knew you made a terrible mistake.

13 century Europe

You managed to climb back through the window of your bedroom and collapsed onto the cold stone floor, sobbing. The weight of what had happened pressed down on you, heavy and unrelenting, until you felt as though you couldn’t breathe. You lay there, the floor hard against your cheek, tears staining your skin and blood drying on your lips.

You weren’t sure how long you remained like that, lost in despair, until a soft cough broke the silence. You looked up, startled, to see Sister Margaret standing over you, her face shadowed, her expression unreadable.

Realization dawned as you took in your disheveled state. Your habit torn, stained with dirt, your face wet with tears, and the telltale smear of blood on your mouth. Shame burned through you, and you averted your gaze.

“What happened?” she asked gently, kneeling beside you. Her tone was concerned, but there was an edge to it, a hesitation.

You sat up slowly, wiping at your face. “I…I don’t know,” you managed, voice weak.

Sister Margaret’s brow furrowed as she took in your appearance. “You were gone for hours,” she murmured, her tone laced with worry.

“I know,” you whispered, a fresh wave of tears prickling your eyes. You tried to blink them back, but they threatened to spill over.

Her gaze grew sharper, her concern tinged with suspicion. “Is this…is this a result of Lord Mikaelson’s visit?” Her voice held a faint accusation, a disapproving edge.

The shame intensified, and you closed your eyes, feeling a hot flush crawl up your neck. “Yes,” you admitted, barely above a whisper.

She sighed, disappointment heavy in her voice. “I warned you, sister. I told you not to stray from His light.”

You lowered your head, the weight of her words pressing down on you. You knew she was right, but guilt and regret were tangled too deeply for any comfort.

“Come,” she said, reaching for your hand. “We must tell Mother Mathilde.”

“No! Please,” you gasped, clutching her hand as panic flared within you. “I can’t…not after everything that’s happened.”

Sister Margaret hesitated, her eyes searching your face. For a moment, you saw a flicker of sympathy, but it was quickly replaced by duty. “You must confess your sins, sister. It’s the only way.”

“Please, I can’t…I don’t deserve forgiveness,” you choked, the words escaping in a broken sob. “What I’ve done… It’s beyond forgivable.”

“God is merciful,” she replied softly, settling down beside you, her arm wrapping around your trembling shoulders. Her voice was calm, reassuring, and you found yourself clinging to that sliver of hope. “You need to pray, sister. Ask for forgiveness, and it will come.”

“You don’t understand…” you whispered, the shame bubbling up, choking you. “Sister Claire… It’s my fault.”

Sister Margaret stiffened, her arm dropping from your shoulders as she pulled back, shock and confusion flitting across her face. “What…what did you say?”

“It’s my fault,” you repeated, feeling the weight of the confession bearing down on you, pressing into your chest until it hurt.

Her eyes widened, her voice barely a whisper. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed, forcing the words out, even though they tasted bitter. “The demon... Lord Mikaelson- he…he seduced me.” Your voice cracked, and fresh tears streaked down your cheeks, the shame almost unbearable. "If only I had seen sooner..."

Sister Margaret recoiled, her hand pulling away as if you burned her. She stared at you, horror and disbelief etched in her features. “Oh, sister…what have you done?”

You hung your head, guilt washing over you in waves. “I gave my body to a demon. I…I forsook all my vows.”

A long silence stretched between you, broken only by your quiet, hitching breaths. Finally, Sister Margaret drew herself up, her expression hardening. “We have to tell Mother Mathilde.”

“No!” Panic surged within you, and you reached out, grasping her arm. “Please, she can’t know…not after…”

“She needs to know,” Sister Margaret insisted, her voice growing firmer, colder. “This is a grave transgression, sister. The consequences will be severe.”

You looked at her, desperation in your gaze, seeing the resolve in her eyes and the fear. “Please…I’m begging you. Just…just give me time to figure this out.”

She shook her head, sorrow flickering in her expression as she stood up, stepping back from you as if you were a stranger. “I can’t keep this secret for you.” Her voice wavered, but her resolve was unbreakable.

Your heart dropped, and you felt as though the ground had been ripped from under you. The finality of her words settled over you, heavy as stone.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking at you one last time before she turned and disappeared down the corridor, leaving you alone with the crushing weight of your sins.

As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, bathing the convent in a pale glow, you knew it was time to leave. You had packed a small bag, gathering a few meager possessions. A spare habit, some candles, a few coins, and a small silver cross.

The night had passed in a blur of restless sleep and tears, the shame and guilt a constant, relentless torment. Now, as dawn approached, a cold resolve had settled over you. If you didn't run, you would be condemned... purified to death. Sister Margaret would tell Mother Mathilde, and the truth would come out. You couldn't face that. You had to leave, now, while you still could.

You opened the window, glancing down at the courtyard below, a cold breeze sweeping in. The early morning air was sharp and clear, and you breathed it in, steeling yourself.

Slowly, carefully, you slipped through the window, gripping the ledge. You took a deep breath, saying a silent prayer, and began to climb down the rough stone wall.

The convent was quiet, the only sounds were the wind rustling through the trees and the faint chirping of birds. Your hands were numb, fingers cramped, but you gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to keep going.

Just as your foot found purchase on the ledge below, you heard a shout. Startled, you lost your balance, the stone slipping from under your foot.

You fell, hitting the ground with a sickening thud, a searing pain shooting through your body. A scream rose in your throat, but no sound came. The world spun, a blinding light flashing in your eyes.

Hands grabbed you, shaking you, pulling you to your feet. Dizzy, you looked up, blinking, and saw the blurred face of sister Margaret.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice frantic.

You took a breath, forcing the pain aside, and shook your head. "No...I'm fine."

"What were you doing?" she demanded, anger and fear mixing in her voice.

You glanced at her, then away, unable to meet her eyes. "Leaving," you whispered, knowing that the truth would hurt her.

"I was afraid you would say that," she said, a touch of sadness in her voice. "Come,"

"I can't," you pleaded, desperation rising inside you. "Please, just let me go. This is my choice."

"It's not a choice, sister," she replied firmly, gripping your arm and leading you towards the chapel. "You have sinned, and now, you will face the consequences."

She dragged you through the courtyard, ignoring your protests, and you knew it was useless. You had no choice but to accept your fate.

Mother Mathilde was waiting, her expression hard and unforgiving. She stood, towering over you, a figure of unyielding judgment.

"You have betrayed God and your sisters," she began, her voice cold and full of fury. "For that, you must be punished."

Sister Margaret pushed you down onto your knees, the hard floor bruising. You looked up at Mother Mathilde, tears blurring your vision, the weight of her words a heavy burden.

"Please, I.. I didn't mean to..."

"Silence!" she shouted, cutting you off. "Do you think I'm blind to your indiscretions?"

You lowered your head, a quiet sob escaping. "Please, forgive me..."

"Forgiveness is not given freely," she said, her voice hard. "It must be earned. You will atone for your sins through suffering."

Your head snapped up, and you stared at her, fear and desperation coursing through you.

"Take off your habit and robe, you are not deserving of such garments," she commanded, her eyes blazing.

"Please, I can't," you begged, but Sister Margaret tugged the clothing from you, baring your flesh, exposing your shame.

Mother Mathilde leaned down, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at her. "You have brought darkness upon us all, and now, it is time to purge it," she spat, her eyes burning with anger.

Tears streamed down your face, the humiliation and regret a painful reminder of your sins.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, pleading with her, but she turned away, ignoring you. She nodded at sister Margaret, and a heavy metal collar was placed around your neck, the cold bite of iron against your skin.

"Take her outside, to the square," Mother Mathilde instructed, her voice laced with disgust.

You were hauled to your feet, the chain connecting to the collar yanked sharply, forcing you to stumble after sister Margaret. The other nuns followed, their faces shadowed and grim, and you felt the weight of their judgment pressing down on you.

The sun felt too bright, the air too sharp, as you were led into the village center. A crowd was already gathering, word spreading quickly about your punishment. You looked around, desperately searching for a friendly face, but there was no one.

The chain was fastened to a post in the middle of the square, the rough wood rubbing against your skin as sister Margaret secured it tightly.

"Behold!" Mother Mathilde's voice rang out, cutting through the murmur of the crowd. "The wages of sin."

There was a ripple of gasps and murmurs as the people gathered closer, staring at you, their faces twisted with disgust and fear.

"Confess your sins, before I send you to meet the Lord," Mother Mathilde commanded, her voice echoing off the surrounding buildings.

"I...I gave myself to a demon," you stammered, shame washing over you as the words left your lips.

The crowd murmured, a low, angry buzz. You lowered your head, tears stinging your eyes.

"And what did the demon do to you?" Mother Mathilde pressed, her voice filled with malice.

You took a breath, feeling the weight of the chains holding you in place. "He...he seduced me. He used my body for his own pleasure."

"Whore! Harlot!" someone shouted from the crowd, the words a harsh and ugly accusation.

"Speak the name of this demon, this devil among men," Mother Mathilde ordered, her eyes boring into you.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak his name, the shame and guilt too raw and overwhelming. "I can't," you whispered, shaking your head.

"You will," Mother Mathilde insisted, her voice full of rage. "You will name the demon who corrupted you, or I will have your tongue cut out and fed to the pigs."

A wave of nausea rose within you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the world to disappear. But the pressure remained, the iron collar tight around your neck as the crowd was grew louder, their voices raised in anger and fear. You closed your eyes, struggling to breathe as you spoke his name.

"Elijah Mikaelson," you finally whispered, the words barely audible.

The crowd erupted in shocked gasps and cries, a surge of fear and anger rippling through them.

"The Mikaelsons are demons, all of them!" a voice shouted, the words punctuated by a chorus of agreement. "They have brought evil into our midst!"

Mother Mathilde glared at you, her eyes cold and unforgiving. "Then the judgment is clear. For the crime of consorting with demons, and for bringing their curse upon us, you will be cleansed with stone,"

She turned to the crowd, raising her hands in the air. "Let this serve as a lesson to all, that the wages of sin are death!"

The crowd erupted in a frenzy, a storm of angry shouts and jeers. The first blow was from a young boy in the front of the crowd, he picked up a smooth, heavy rock and hurled it, the sharp edge catching your shoulder.

You cried out, stumbling under the force, the pain radiating down your arm. The next blow hit your chest, stealing the air from your lungs. You doubled over, the blows coming faster and faster, each one more brutal than the last.

Your world was reduced to nothing but pain, the rocks slamming into you, the chains holding you in place. You begged, screamed, pleaded, prayed, but the stones kept coming, the blows raining down on you, merciless.

You had abandoned God, and now he was abandoning you.

The rocks kept coming, tearing through your flesh, the blood streaming down your body. Each blow was a cruel and vicious punishment, and the crowd cheered, their voices ringing in your ears.

You fell to the ground, the stones striking you, tearing into you. Your world was a sea of red and pain, a never-ending cycle of suffering. Until the last stone was thrown, by the hand of Mother Mathilde herself.

You felt it strike your temple, the impact sending you spinning into darkness.

As the world slipped away, you had one final thought.

Elijah.

Elijah stood near the entrance of an old church, the crime scene tape fluttering in the wind. It was dark, the moon and stars hidden by the clouds, the air thick with humidity and the smell of death.

His gaze swept over the surrounding area, taking in the tall trees and dense foliage. Everything was eerily quiet, the only sound the rustling of the leaves in the wind.

Klaus was reading the crime scene report out loud, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "... Victim was found hanging upside down from the altar cross, her throat slashed. Blood was used to paint the walls, a message written in Latin."

"A sacrifice," Elijah murmured, his eyes narrowing, his stomach twisting.

"No, just a psycho," Klaus corrected, rolling his eyes. "Apparently the murderer is fond of leaving little notes."

"What did the note say?" Elijah asked, his pulse quickening.

Klaus rattled off the words, frowning as he translated them from Latin. "Lord God Almighty, light and truth, we beseech Thee, that Thou mayest drive away every unclean spirit, every deceitful demon, every foe of our immortal souls. Hallow this place and our hearts with Thy light and strength."

"An exorcism," Elijah muttered, his frown deepening.

Cami cleared her throat, she leaned into Klaus as she glanced at the crime scene report over his shoulder. "That kind of twisted thinking doesn’t come from nowhere. There’s a deep-seated belief system here, maybe even a distorted sense of duty. This is someone who believes they’re acting in service of a higher power."

Elijah clenched his jaw, his eyes burning with anger. "This has nothing to do with my wife,"

"Maybe, maybe not," Cami shrugged, her gaze softening. "But it does point to a connection between her murder and these others. If the killer is targeting women who look like her, we have to consider the possibility."

"No," Elijah hissed, his voice laced with venom. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Brother," Klaus said, his tone careful. "There's a pattern. You can't ignore it,"

"It doesn't matter," Elijah snapped, his voice rising. "We need to find a way to bring her back, that's the priority."

"Guys, down here!" Marcel's voice called out, interrupting the tense moment.

He was crouched on the ground, examining a patch of dirt. A trail of dried blood led towards a stone wall.

Marcel followed it, running his hands over the surface of the wall. There were cracks, and he slipped his fingers inside one, a frown forming on his face.

"There's a door," he murmured, pulling it open, revealing a set of stairs leading down into the darkness.

"A cellar?" Elijah guessed, his brow furrowing.

Marcel nodded, his expression wary, he looked at the others.

"Let's go," Elijah said, a chill running down his spine.

The air smelled musty, stale. It was cool and damp, the shadows clinging to the walls like a blanket.

Elijah stepped inside, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. He could feel the darkness pressing in, the faint whisper of voices on the wind. Marcel was close behind him, with Klaus protectively hovering beside Cami, keeping her shielded from the unknown.

"This place gives me the creeps," Cami mumbled, shivering.

"Stay close," Klaus muttered, his arm sliding around her shoulders.

They followed the path, the stairs spiraling down into the earth, the air growing more oppressive, the temperature dropping.

After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the bottom. Elijah felt a sense of foreboding, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He couldn't explain it, but there was a dark energy here, a malevolence that clung to the air.

"I can't see anything," Marcel complained, his tone laced with frustration.

"Hold on," Elijah said, he felt around the walls until he found a torch attached to the stone, pulling it off and striking it against the wall.

A flame sparked to life, illuminating the room.

Elijah raised the torch, his eyes adjusting to the sudden light, his breath catching in his throat.

"What the hell is this?" Marcel whispered, his eyes widening.

The room was littered with long dead candles, moss climbed the walls, and bones were scattered across the floor. Blood was splattered on the walls, dried and brown.

Cami gasped, pressing her face into Klaus' chest, trembling.

Klaus held her close, his jaw clenching, a growl rumbling in his chest.

In the center of the room was a large cross, and upon it was a woman, a dead vampire. Her skin gray and covered in dark veins, her hands and feet nailed to the wood, her eyes wide open, glassy and unseeing.

Elijah's eyes were locked on the corpse, a terrible dread settling in his stomach. He recognized her, a face out of time.

On the floor next to her was another body, a wooden stake driven through her chest. It was clear that it was self inflicted, her hands not far from the weapon.

Your phantom stepped out from behind the cross, and Elijah's eyes widened, his breath hitching.

"Hello, husband," You smiled at him, tilting your head. Dressed in your nun's habit, the very same one you were wearing when he met you, the very same one the vampire corpses were wearing. "Do you remember them? What you made me do to them?"

Elijah shook his head, taking a step back.

"This is all your fault, Eli," you purred, your gaze burning into him.

He swallowed hard, his hands trembling.

"You corrupted me, made me drink their blood, made me crave it," you continued, your smile turning cruel.

"No," he whispered, his voice choked, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Yes," you replied, the word harsh, full of hate.

Klaus frowned, glancing at Elijah, his brow furrowed. He was muttering to himself, his gaze locked on the wall behind the crucified vampire.

"What is it, brother?" Klaus asked, his voice tense.

Elijah didn't respond, he was lost in the nightmare, trapped in the memories.

"Elijah" Klaus called, his concern growing.

Elijah blinked, tearing his gaze away from you, his eyes focusing on his brother.

"C-can you see her?" He asked, his voice strained, a desperate edge to it.

"See who?" Klaus asked, his confusion mounting.

"My wife," he whispered, his throat tight.

"She's not here, brother," Klaus said gently, his eyes full of sadness.

"But-" Elijah started, turning to look at you.

You were gone.

He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, his eyes stinging.

"There's something written on the wall," Cami pointed out, her voice trembling.

Elijah's gaze shifted to the wall where Cami pointed. In faint, jagged script, words were smeared in dried blood:

'In nomine eius quae nos decepit. In nomine eius quae nos corrupit. Tandem est purgata. Nunc quiescimus, missio sancta completa est. Salutem invenire possimus,'

Elijah felt a weight press down on him, his mind racing to translate the Latin. 

'In the name of her who deceived us. In the name of her who corrupted us. She has finally been cleansed. We rest now, the holy mission is complete. May we find salvation,'

The words struck him like a blow, each syllable carrying the weight of a fanatic’s conviction. His eyes darted between the two bodies sprawled on the cold stone floor. Mother Mathilde and Sister Margaret, both transformed into vampires. They had killed you, after all these centuries, they had gotten their revenge.

Elijah felt the world fall out from under him, his knees buckling, his mind reeling.

"You should have left me alone, Eli," your voice echoed in his mind.

"Elijah?" Cami said softly, placing a hand on his arm, concern etched on her features.

"It was them," he whispered, his eyes stinging with unshed tears, his heart aching. "They were the ones who killed her."

Klaus stiffened, his eyes darkening. "You mean to tell me, these two corpses were responsible for her death?"

Elijah nodded, his jaw clenching. "And now, they're dead too.”

Klaus stiffened, a wave of realization hitting him. "How could that be possible?"

Elijah turned to him, his face ashen, eyes haunted. "You tell me, you were the one drinking every villager dry!"

Elijah looked away, his gaze sweeping over the morbid scene. His heart was pounding in his chest, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.

He could feel the rage boiling in his veins, a dark, powerful fury threatening to consume him. His fists clenched, and he let out a roar, lashing out at the closest thing to him. His knuckles slammed into the stone wall, shattering bone and splitting the skin. Blood dripped from his hand, but he barely noticed, his anger too intense to be soothed by the pain.

Marcel grabbed Cami, pulling her behind him, shielding her.

Klaus stared at his brother, shock and concern etched on his face.

"Elijah," Cami said, her voice quiet. "This isn't your fault,"

"Isn't it?" Elijah hissed, whirling around to face him. "Don't you get it? They killed her!" He pointed at the two bodies, his voice shaking, his eyes wild with grief and rage. "After all this time... She turned them by mistake... and they must have tracked her down..."

"Elijah," Klaus said softly, stepping closer, his hands raised, palms facing outward.

"No!" Elijah shouted, pushing his brother away, his eyes blazing. "She's dead because of me!"

Klaus stumbled back, his expression stunned.

Elijah took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, his eyes closed. His hand throbbed, blood trickling down his wrist, soaking into his sleeve. He looked down at it, his jaw clenched, his mind reeling. Then he ran, darting up the stairs, his footsteps echoing off the stone.

Klaus started to follow him, but Cami put her hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Let him go," she murmured, her eyes filled with compassion.

Klaus sighed, his shoulders slumping, a grimace of resignation twisting his lips. "This is bad, Camille."

"I know," she replied, her brow furrowing.

"How the bloody hell could they have turned into vampires?" he asked, his confusion mounting.

"Sometimes, snatch, eat, erase, has unintended consequences," Marcel mused, a scowl on his face.

Klaus felt a pang of regret, he had never really reflected about his time in the village. Him and Kol spent most of it drinking their fill of the locals. It was a blur, his memory of it hazy and vague, like a drunken dream. He had no idea that his carelessness could have caused something like this.

Cami wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He held her close, burying his face in her hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Marcel watched them, his expression unreadable. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on the nuns' corpses, his stomach churning.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here," he said, his voice strained.

"Right," Klaus agreed, taking Cami's hand, following Marcel up the stairs, and out into the night.

Elijah was nowhere to be seen, and Klaus didn't know where to begin looking for him. He had hoped that finding answers could ease his brother's burden, but instead, the truth had only served to deepen the wounds. There was no revenge to be had, and no one to blame but themselves.

13th century Europe

Death, it seemed, was a cold and endless void.

There was nothing... no light, no sound, no sensation. You drifted, suspended in an empty silence, time slipping away without meaning or measure.

But then, something broke through the emptiness. A gentle thumping, rhythmic and insistent, reaching out to you. It called to you, pulling you back.

Your heart.

Painfully, slowly, you felt consciousness returning, a heavy ache settling into your bones. Yet even as you opened your eyes, the darkness did not fade. Silence pressed around you, thick and unyielding, no hint of life.

You lifted a hand, reaching out and felt smooth wood just above your face. Your fingers moved to the sides, finding more planks, enclosing you in every direction. The realization struck, and a choked sob escaped your lips. You were trapped, buried alive, encased in wood and darkness.

A wave of panic gripped you, and you clawed desperately at the wood, splinters digging into your skin as you scratched, feeling the rough surface bite back. The air was stale, thick with the scent of earth. You were suffocating, the weight of the grave pressing in, sealing you away from life.

You were so hungry.

It was a hunger beyond anything you had ever known. It gnawed at your insides, a feverish craving that burned through you, leaving you weak and sick with need. You felt as though you might wither away, disappear into the dark if this hunger was not fed. And in the depths of your mind, one terrible thought rose, unbidden and irresistible.

Blood.

What had become of you? Was this hell? The punishment for your sins? You had failed. Failed God, failed yourself. Your body had been violated, desecrated, and now this was your fate. Condemned, starved, a monster craving blood.

But as the darkness closed in, and the hunger burned like fire, a muffled sound pierced the silence. A faint shuffling, a scraping, and then a loud thud. The wood above you cracked, dirt flooding in, dust filling the air.

Then, hands reached down, breaking through the wood and dirt, and grasping you by the shoulders. They pulled, dragging you out of the grave. The night air rushed in, cool and clean, filling your lungs with life. Above you, stars glittered in the dark sky, so beautiful, so bright it brought tears to your eyes.

A warm blanket wrapped around you, and a voice, soft and familiar, murmured reassurances. Strong arms lifted you, cradling you against a broad chest, carrying you away from the grave’s embrace.

Through the haze, you looked up and met Elijah’s eyes.

His gaze was intense, shadowed with worry, his face softened in relief. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, and as your vision blurred, his words echoed in your mind.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his voice a balm against the terror that lingered in your heart. “Everything will be alright now, I promise you."

When Bonnie's house came into view, the first thing Rebekah saw was a distinctive figure sitting on the step. She expected he would turn up sooner or later, figuring Stefan had alerted him the moment they left the Grill.

"Is that who I think it is?" Kol asked, his smile widening. "Another bloody Salvatore."

"Well, aren't we popular," Rebekah mused.

They pulled into the driveway and parked, stepping out of the car and walking towards the porch.

"Hey there, Damon," Kol greeted, grinning. "Lovely evening for a visit, isn't it?"

Damon cast a glance at him, but his gaze remained fixed on Rebekah.

"How can I help you?" Damon asked, his voice low, his expression hard.

"Well, for starters, you can leave," Rebekah retorted, crossing her arms. "This is a private matter."

"You can't hurt Bonnie," Damon snapped, his jaw clenching. "Not without going through me."

"Who said anything about hurting her?" Kol quipped, tilting his head.

"Get off of her porch," Damon replied, his voice edged with warning.

Before Damon could blink, Kol's hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of his hair. In a single swift motion, he slammed Damon's face down onto the wooden steps, shoving him hard against the boards. The sound of bone meeting wood echoed in the quiet.

"You certainly have the confidence of a madman," Kol chuckled, pressing his knee into the back of Damon's neck, keeping him pinned.

Damon groaned, trying to pull away, but Kol dragged him back, forcing him to his knees at the base of the stairs.

"Bonnie Bennett?" Rebekah called, her voice cutting through the tension. "I know you're in there, I can hear your heartbeat."

"Don't answer," Damon growled, struggling beneath Kol's hold.

The door creaked open, and Bonnie stood there, just behind the threshold, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the three of them.

"What do you want?"

"We’ve come to ask a favor, love. But your friend here is being rather rude," Kol said, his grip tightening on the back of Damon's neck, amusement flashing in his eyes.

"Let him go," Bonnie ordered, her tone sharp.

"Come outside," Kol demanded, his smile widening.

"Bonnie, don't," Damon hissed through gritted teeth, his muscles tensing against Kol’s hold.

"It's fine, Damon," Bonnie replied, stepping out onto the porch, her gaze wary.

"Good," Kol purred, leaning close, his lips brushing the shell of Damon's ear. "If you move, I'll rip your head off."

Damon snarled, his eyes flashing, but he stayed still, his muscles quivering with barely restrained rage.

"There's a good lad," Kol grinned, releasing his grip, stepping back and away.

"Now," Rebekah said, moving closer to the steps, her eyes locking with Bonnie's. "What do you know about resurrection spells?"

Bonnie let out a humorless laugh, crossing her arms. "No. Absolutely not."

"Come now," Kol drawled, his eyes glittering. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Not a chance," Bonnie answered, her jaw clenching. "Even if I could perform a spell that complex, and believe me, I can't, I wouldn't do it."

"Why the hell not?" Rebekah asked, her brow furrowing.

"Look, even if I was inclined to help you, and I'm not," Bonnie shrugged, shaking her head. "A spell like that, the cost is too high. It's not worth it."

"I'm sure we could work something out," Kol smirked, his gaze sweeping over her. He reached out and grabbed Damon by the collar of his jacket, yanking him to his feet. "Maybe a little incentive for you, hmm?"

"Leave him alone," Bonnie warned, her eyes narrowing.

"I would if you'd be reasonable," Kol chuckled, his tone light, a dark edge to his words. "We could do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice, darling."

The sound of tires squealing against pavement drew their attention, and Bonnie looked to the street, a sigh escaping her as she realized who it was.

Stefan came bounding up the steps and onto the porch, his gaze dark, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Let him go," he demanded, his eyes locked on Damon.

"Oh, Stef," Kol purred, his smile widening, a wicked gleam in his eye. "I was hoping you'd show up,"

"Stefan," Damon warned, his brow furrowing, his voice low.

"You have two seconds to back the hell off, before I make you," Stefan said, his voice laced with threat.

"What is with the hostility?" Kol scoffed, his brow raising. "I'm just having a little fun,"

Rebekah stepped between them, her arms raised, her gaze flickering from her brother to Stefan. "Everyone relax, this isn't getting us anywhere."

"Tell your brother to let go of my brother," Stefan replied, his voice cold.

"You heard him," Rebekah said, glaring at her sibling, her jaw clenched.

"Fine," Kol muttered, shoving Damon towards his brother. "No need to get testy."

Damon stumbled, but Stefan grabbed him, steadying him, his arm wrapping protectively around his shoulder.

"Let's try this again," Rebekah sighed, looking at Bonnie. "We need your help resurrecting our sister in law, and you're the only person I can think of who can actually do it."

"I can't," Bonnie insisted, her brow furrowing.

"Can't or won't?" Rebekah countered, her eyes narrowing.

"Both," Bonnie snapped, a note of frustration in her voice. "I know better than to mess with forces I can't control."

"Oh please," Kol scoffed, rolling his eyes. "We're immortal, darling. If anyone can control those forces, it's us."

"Look, I'm sorry about your sister in law, really, I am," Bonnie sighed, her shoulders slumping, a pang of sympathy flitting across her features. "But there are always consequences, and they're usually catastrophic."

"That's a chance we're willing to take," Rebekah said, her tone earnest. "You don't have to worry about any fallout, whatever happens, we'll deal with it. All I'm asking is that you consider it."

"I'm sorry," Bonnie shook her head, her brow furrowing. "My answer is no."

"Miss Bennett," a familiar voice called, the sound of footsteps approaching.

All eyes turned to the man walking up the driveway, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his gaze intent, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Elijah," Bonnie breathed, her heart skipping a beat, a sense of dread settling in her stomach.

"I will only ask you this once," Elijah said, his voice steady, a glint of steel in his eyes. "Do as we request, and no harm will come to you or your friends."

A tense silence settled over the porch as Elijah’s words hung in the air, his calm tone laced with an unspoken threat. Bonnie took a step back, her heart pounding, but her gaze held steady.

“Elijah,” Stefan said, his voice low and tense, moving protectively in front of Bonnie. “You don’t want to do this.”

Elijah’s gaze shifted to Stefan, his face a mask of cold composure. “I assure you, Stefan, I am quite certain of what I want.”

Damon stepped forward, positioning himself beside his brother, his jaw clenched. “And we’re certain Bonnie’s not doing anything for you or your twisted family reunion.”

A flicker of something darker passed over Elijah’s face, but he remained silent, his eyes narrowing as he regarded the Salvatores.

Rebekah looked between them, an amused smirk playing on her lips, she glanced at her brother.

Kol shrugged, his brow furrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"We don't need the witch's cooperation," Kol said, his gaze turning back to Elijah, his voice filled with amusement. "We could just take her."

"You're not taking anyone," Damon snapped, his voice low, a growl rumbling in his chest.

"Damon," Stefan murmured, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, his expression grim. "Not a good idea."

"Listen to your brother," Kol smirked, his eyes glittering. "This is none of your business."

"Everything happening in this town is our business," Damon replied, his gaze sharp.

"Is that so?" Kol laughed, a dark edge to his words.

"It is," Damon retorted, his brow furrowing, his hands curling into fists.

"Enough," Elijah said, his voice soft, but authoritative. He turned his gaze back to Bonnie, his eyes filled with a mix of resolve and grief. "Miss Bennett, my wife is dead. And while I do not wish to threaten you, I will not allow anything or anyone to stand in the way of her return."

Bonnie hesitated, her eyes searching his, a chill running down her spine at the look in his eyes. She could feel the weight of his stare, a deep sadness, and a deep rage, burning in the depths of his gaze.

"I can't," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"I DON'T CARE," Elijah yelled, his voice booming like a thunderclap. "DO IT."

Bonnie jumped at his outburst. She had never feared the Mikaelsons before, not even when they were threatening her, but the look in Elijah's eyes was beyond anything she had ever seen. A deep, aching sorrow and desperation, mingled with a primal rage, all focused on her.

Damon scoffed, stepping up beside Stefan, his defiance barely masking the unease in his eyes. “So that’s it? You’ll sacrifice everyone and everything just to get what you want?”

Elijah’s gaze flicked toward him, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You know nothing of what I have sacrificed.”

Damon’s lips curled into a smirk, though his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Yeah, well, I don’t care how ancient or heartbroken you are. Bonnie’s not your pawn, and we’re done playing along.”

Without warning, Elijah grabbed Bonnie's wrists, shackling them and suppressing her magic. Her body went rigid as her mind tried to process what was happening as Damon lunged, his fist aimed straight for Elijah’s face. But Elijah was faster. In a flash, he sidestepped, grabbing Damon’s arm and twisting it behind his back, forcing him down to his knees.

Stefan’s face darkened, and he rushed forward to free his brother, but Elijah’s other hand shot out, gripping Stefan by the throat, holding both brothers captive with terrifying ease.

“Elijah, stop!” Rebekah shouted, alarm replacing the earlier tension in her voice.

Elijah didn’t answer. His expression was cold, detached, a shadow of the man they knew. He brought Stefan's face close to his, his pupils dilating as he stared him down.

"Rip out your brother's heart," he said, his tone calm, almost casual as he compelled Stefan.

Stefan struggled, fighting against the compulsion, a growl rumbling in his chest. Elijah let go of his neck, still holding Damon in place with his other hand. Stefan’s face contorted with the effort to resist Elijah’s command, his hand shaking as it moved involuntarily toward Damon’s chest. Damon’s eyes widened with alarm as he felt his brother’s fingers pressing against his ribs, the pressure building, his breath quickening.

Stefan screamed in anguish, his mind fighting against the compulsion, his arm trembling. But no matter how hard he fought, the magic coursed through him, pushing his arm forward.

"Stop!" Bonnie cried, panic seizing her as she watched Stefan's hand dig deeper into his brother's chest. She moved to rush towards them, but Kol was quicker, pulling her away.

"I wouldn't recommend that, love," Kol whispered, his grip tightening as she tried to fight him off.

“Elijah, please,” Bonnie’s voice shook, her eyes pleading. “This won’t bring her back. It won’t change anything.”

For the briefest of moments, Elijah’s resolve flickered. The pain in Bonnie’s voice seemed to cut through the haze of rage and desperation that clouded his mind, and the realization of what he was doing hit him. But then the memory of your dead body flashed in his mind, and the grief consumed him once again.

"Finish it," Elijah ordered, his voice a low, commanding rumble.

"NO!" Damon shouted, his face contorting with rage, his muscles straining against Elijah's grip.

Stefan's eyes met his brother's, and all he could see was the pain and fear in them, before they dimmed. He knew there was no fighting it, and the moment his fingers wrapped around Damon's beating heart, he accepted his fate.

Damon gasped, a strangled cry escaping him as Stefan began to pull his heart from his chest.

"I'm sorry," Stefan whispered, tears streaming down his face, his eyes locking with Damon's one last time.

Then, with a single, powerful jerk, Stefan ripped his brother's heart from his chest, blood pouring out over his hand. Damon's body fell to the ground, a sickening thud echoing through the night.

Bonnie screamed, the sound piercing the silence, her eyes wide with shock. Kol's grip tightened, holding her still, his other hand covering her mouth to stifle her cries. His expression was a mix of awe and revulsion, but he kept her pressed against him, watching the scene unfold with rapt attention.

Rebekah stood frozen, a wave of horror and guilt washing over her. She could feel the hot tears stinging her eyes, her throat constricting, the blood draining from her face. She looked at her brother, hoping for some sign of mercy, some trace of humanity, but his face was a blank mask, devoid of feeling.

Stefan, still compelled, released Damon’s heart and stared down at his own bloodstained hands in horror as the compulsion faded. He fell to his knees beside Damon’s body, shaking uncontrollably, his expression vacant as the reality of what he had just done settled in.

“Elijah,” Rebekah’s voice was a shaky whisper, her face ashen as she struggled to find the brother she had known. “What have you done?”

Elijah turned to her, his expression unreadable, his eyes empty. “What was necessary.”

“Necessary?” Rebekah’s voice cracked, a tear slipping down her cheek as she took a step toward him. “This… this isn’t you, Elijah. This… this is madness.”

Bonnie wrenched herself free from Kol’s grip, her gaze blazing with fury and despair. "I will never, ever, help you," she snarled, her voice quivering with rage.

Elijah looked down at her, then looked to Stefan, still kneeling beside his brother's corpse, a look of agony and guilt twisting his face.

"Is that your final answer?" Elijah asked, his voice quiet.

"Yes," Bonnie answered, her heart hammering against her ribs, her breathing ragged.

"Very well," Elijah said, he grabbed Stefan by the neck, pulling him to his feet. Then, without hesitation, he plunged his hand into his chest, tearing out his heart.

"No!" Bonnie screamed, her voice breaking as she fell to her knees.

Stefan's body dropped to the floor, lifeless and broken, his eyes wide open, landing with a soft thud next to his brother.

"Elijah," Rebekah's voice trembled, her eyes wide and unseeing, her mind unable to comprehend what was happening.

"Take her," Elijah said, his eyes fixed on the witch. "And do not let her go."

Kol hesitated, his face pale, his eyes fixed on the bodies.

"Now, Kol," Elijah ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Fine," Kol muttered, his brow furrowing as he approached Bonnie, his grip tightening on her shoulders.

"C'mon, love. Let's get this over with," he said to her softy, dragging her to her feet.

Bonnie didn't resist, her gaze locked on Elijah, the anger and hatred rolling off her in waves.

"We're going to do this, one way or another," Elijah told her, his voice calm, his eyes hard. "The only question is, how many more lives do you want to take before we get started?"

"I hate you," Bonnie said, her voice a harsh whisper.

"Yes, I imagine you do," Elijah answered, his expression unchanging. "But that doesn't matter, not now. What matters is getting my wife back."

Rebekah stood motionless, staring at the two corpses, her mind unable to process the horror that surrounded her. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, her heart racing, the world around her spinning. The Salvatores were a pain in her side, and she had always thought them fools, but they didn't deserve this. The gravity of what had just happened was too heavy, too surreal to fully comprehend.

Kol and Rebekah watched their once noble, honorable brother, the north star of their family, turn to face them. But that guiding light was now gone, consumed by shadow. What stood before them was no longer their Elijah, but something else entirely.

A dark star, collapsing under its own weight, dragging everything into its relentless abyss.

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Six}

[toolonely1]

Goodbye

Professor! Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Angst, one mention of the reader as a girl, teacher/student relationship, if there's anything else, let me know

Word count: 1.4k

(please be nice I never write)

The beginning of the semester is usually stressful; the combination of finding your classes, meeting professors, and getting used to the workload can be a lot. But nothing could have prepared you to see your boyfriend of three months at the front of the class, greeting students as they walked in.

When your eyes meet, you freeze, realizing Professor Reid and Spencer Reid are, in fact, the same person. He starts walking towards you in an awkward manner, the same shyness he had when you first met. But before he can reach you, you dart towards a seat in the back of the class, unable to handle that conversation just yet. His eyes follow you, and you can only hope he understands why you can’t speak to him. It isn’t every day you find out you’ve unknowingly been sleeping with your professor.

See, you met months ago, right at the beginning of the summer. You had been reading at a table in your favorite library; it had a cafe in it, and the employees were always great. The rest of the tables were full, and you happened to look up as he was looking around for an empty seat, with a coffee in one hand and a book in the other. It was almost out of the movies, the way your heart stopped as your eyes met. He had to have been the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, then he gave you this shy smile, and immediately you were done for. You offered him the empty chair at your table, and by some miracle, he accepted the invite.

As he was sitting down, you took the opportunity to introduce yourself, to which he smiled and replied with his own name.

“Well, Spencer Reid, I don’t know why it’s so busy today. Usually, the place is pretty empty.” He didn’t seem like the type to enjoy crowds.

Proving my guess, he replied, “The last time I came in, most of the tables were empty. I figured it would be the same now." His eyes flickered from your eyes to the rest of you. “Though I’m starting to think it may not be such a bad thing.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “And why’s that?”

Almost like a switch was flipped, his demeanor changed. No longer was he shy and awkward, now he was exuding confidence. “I have an excuse to talk to a pretty girl.”

You didn’t do any reading after that. Instead, you and Spencer spent the rest of the day chatting (flirting) about your favorite books, hobbies, and everything in between.

In the next couple of weeks, you kept meeting at the library, both acting as if it were an accident. Eventually, though, you started meeting outside of the library, starting with walks around a local park, where he told you about his job as a profiler in the Behavioral Analysis Unit, explaining he would be gone for days to find the “unsub,” as he called it. Walks turned to trips to the movies; he had a thing for films in foreign languages, and you didn’t mind him translating everything in your ear (though you were not paying much attention to anything other than the feel of his breath on your neck).

One night, after dinner, you asked him to kiss you, wanting to be more than the sort of not stranger we became. He took the hint, and for the rest of the summer, as long as he was in the city, you were inseparable.

Until now.

The lecture went fast, as the first day usually does. Professor Reid only went over the syllabus, not that you were paying attention to a thing he said; you were too busy thinking about the impossible situation you had ended up in. When he finished going over the syllabus, he dismissed everyone early. You wanted to leave the class quickly, but as if he knew what you were going to do, he met you at your seat. You didn’t stand a chance.

“We should talk.” Though he was not physically holding you, you could not move. You knew you would either talk about it now or would never talk again.

The class finally cleared, and you were alone. This is something you would usually relish, but this time, being alone with him feels dirty, like you’re doing something wrong.

Avoiding eye contact, you fidget with the strap of your bag. “So when you said you worked as a profiler, were you lying?” It's certainly not the most pressing issue, but you had to find something to say.

The sound of his chuckle was both music to your ears and nails on a chalkboard. “No, I teach as a side job when I'm not on a case. I'm sorry, I must have forgotten to mention that.” It’s confusing how he can find humor in a situation like this.

“Yeah, it would have been nice to know. especially when you heard me complain about my college classes.” You don’t blame him, never could, but you have to be upset about something. When you finally get the courage to look at him, the look he gives you tells you he knows this.

Having spent the last thirty minutes thinking, you already know what you have to do. Tears began filling your eyes as you really, truly took him in.

“We have to break up.”

“What?” He looks devastated.

“It's the most logical option, you have to agree.” you can’t look at him anymore, too scared to see his reaction. You start pacing. “I mean, this is putting your job in danger, and there’s no way I’m letting this jeopardize my education. Not to mention how cliche it is for a student and her teacher to be together." You take a glance at him while you take a breath and continue, "Do you know what people would say about me if they found out?" you then wait for a response, but instead, his mouth is ajar as he takes in everything you just said.

Unable to handle the silence, you continue, trying to convince both of you that this is the right choice. “So we break up. It doesn’t matter how either of us feels, it’s what has to be done. No matter how much fun I had. No matter how much I care about you. It doesn’t matter.” The tears are starting to flow now, but the word vomit will not stop. “Nothing matters because I can’t be the girl who sleeps with her professor for a good grade. Even if it will kill me to see you three times a week and not be able to hug you, kiss you,... or even talk to you.” That’s what breaks you, the reality of the situation finally getting to you.

Your sob is what finally breaks him out of his trance; he rushes to you as if his only job is to calm you down. His hands cup your face faster than you can process. “You’re right... we should break up. For my career and your education.” His eyes are tracing your face like he’s trying to memorize every detail of it, as if his eidetic memory could ever fail him. “But this summer has been the best thing to happen to me, and I will always remember it as that. You taught me how to live again, not just survive.”

Your breathing starts to calm again; he seems to always know how to do that. Just another thing you will miss about him.

As you take in one another, you realize how much you don’t want to lose him. Not if you don’t have to.

“I can drop the class, and we’ll avoid each other on campus. We can do that, right?” But he’s got that look in his eyes, the one that says he’s made up his mind. It may have started as your idea, but it’s ending as his final decision.

“You need the class to graduate, and I’m the only professor who teaches it.” His sad smile mocks you. “And we both know I can’t stay away from you when you’re mine.”

The tears start up again as he reminds you that you won’t be his anymore. That he won’t be yours.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“Goodbye,” the final whisper of your name before he walks away feels like a knife to the heart.

[heejayy]

Jason Todd x black reader (1.3k) Warning: angst, mentions death, blood, and swearing

A/n: this has no title it’s just been floating around in my head and I finally wrote it.

[Flashback]

Jason had been acting strangely for the previous week, but you didn't want to bother him because he already had enough on his plate for a seventeen-year-old side kick, but you couldn't help but keep an eye on him as he lay on his back, hands tucked behind his head. You follow his gaze, and he's simply staring out your bay window, watching the rain fall. Jason's nonverbal behavior is nothing new; he's always in his head, but this time feels different, which alarms you.

"Hey Jay you okay?" You asked scooting closer, and he only nodded, his gaze never leaving the window.

You frowned.

You reverted back to silence until you had an idea, then bent down and pecked his forehead, cheeks, and lips. You continued to kiss his face until his lips cracked into a smile.

"Stop, I'm trying to be broody and mysterious," you giggled, snorting.

"Leave that to your father it doesn't suit you." He let out a tiny gasp as he playfully nudged you. As the laughter subsided, Jason rolled off your bed and walked over to his gym bag. After rummaging through it for a few seconds, he found what he needed and returned to you. He was holding what appeared to be a little jewelry box.

“Jay wh-“ before you could question him on it he sat beside you gently grabbing your hand.

"Angel, before you open this, I want you to know that I adore you, and in the year we've spent together, you've truly made life worthwhile. I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with, and I've been told I have a temper, but you've stayed with me nonetheless, and I wanted to thank you for that.” He leaned in, kissed your forehead, and handed you the box.

"Umm Jason if your contemplating on-"

"No! I'm not thinking about hurting myself, so just open the box." You laughed at his frustration and did as you were ordered. You opened the jewelry box, revealing a lovely charm bracelet. It was embellished with red and blue charms, his initials, and a robin. You couldn't stop yourself from crying, "Jason, I love it!" You wrapped your hand around his neck, squeezing him tightly and nearly knocking him down.

"Here, angel, let me put it on for you," you reluctantly let go, allowing him to snap the bracelet onto your wrist. You shook your wrist with a smile, hoping to hear the charms jitter together. "I'm never taking this off."

[Present]

And you never did.

Today marks four years since Jason passed; the night he gave you the bracelet was the last time you saw him. There were so many things you wanted to say if you had known what was about to happen.

You sulked as you fiddled with the charms on the bracelet, gently dragging your finger over the letter J…

"Y/n?"

"Y/n?!" Your head shot up, looking for whoever yelled your name.

"Focus! We're getting busy," you stumbled out of your seat in a haze and walked up to the cash register, muttering an apology to Anya before accepting the customer's order. "Hi I'm sorry for the delay welcome to Lush Latte how may I help you?"

And that's how your day went: trapped in a trance on autopilot, daydreaming about the what-ifs. Before you knew it, it was time to clock out, so you packed your belongings and headed for the door.

"Hey, before you leave, I wanted to ask if you were okay. You were more quiet than usual," Anya inquired. You nodded, offering her a little smile, before pulling the cafe doors wide. You were assaulted with a gust of cool air; autumn is gradually turning into winter, and the temperature begins to drop dramatically early in the day. Which you despised. You checked your phone and realized you had two hours till it was absolutely dark outside. You went to a flower shop, picked up a bouquet of lilies and orchids, and made your way to him.

….

As you approached Gotham's Cemetery, you gathered the flowers from the passenger seat and walked to his tombstone. As you placed your flowers in the vase, you noticed fresh white roses next to them, and a sad smile emerged on your lips. "Must be Alfred," you muttered, fixing his flowers in the vase alongside your own. After rearranging the flowers and cleaning up his grave, you took a step back. Looking at his tombstone always made his death seem too real. "Jason Todd, a good soldier" it read. Every time you read that, you're filled with wrath, remembering all of your arguments with Bruce to get it changed

“How could you?!!” He was your son not some fucking soldier, you used him and now you’re throwing him away! You never loved him! You NEVER CARED!”

You closed your eyes, and tears streamed down your cheeks. You remember shouting and striking him, but he never moved, never yelled or hit you back; he simply let you unleash your rage and frustration on him until Dick carried you away in an attempt to calm you.

How could he diminish his son to merely a soldier? You would never understand.

Thunder boomed over the sky, making you flinch; it began to drizzle, and you took this as your cue to depart. You bid him farewell, dried your tears, and drove home.

….

You didn't realize you had driven all the way home until you parked your car in the garage. You made it up to your apartment and locked the door behind you. By now, your head was throbbing and you were worn-out; this time of year is never easy for you.

You turned on the lamp and hung your purse and coat on the rack; when you kicked off your shoes, you noticed a small puddle on the floor. This triggered alarms in your head, and as you moved around more, you observed mud tracks around your flat, which couldn't have came from you because the shoe size was significantly larger than yours.

Fearful, you stealthily got a knife from the kitchen and wandered around your, "hello?!"

"If anyone is in here I have a knife and will fuck you up!" As you moved down the hall past the living room, you noticed that your bedroom door was open and the lights were turned on. Your breath hitched and stuttered in between gulps as your terror grew. There was blood on the door, plenty of it. You stormed into the room, ready to stab the stranger, but there was nothing there until you heard ragged breathing coming from the bathroom.

You peeked into the restroom and saw a pair of dirty boots, then pushed the door open with your foot to reveal a very massive beat up man lying down on the floor, gripping his bleeding abdomen.

"Who the hell are you?!" You screamed aiming the knife towards him. Wow, how terrifying…

He slowly peered up at you with hooded eyes, damp hair stuck to his forehead, barely conscious, and whispered, "You don't recognize me, angel?" You tilted your head in disbelief, still pointing the knife at the strange man.

Angel? The only person who ever called you angel was…no it can’t be.

Your grip on the knife loosened as the realization set in. But this is insane; you saw his body, and he is dead! You started feeling nauseous, your chest clenched, and your breathing became shallow. It can't be him; he's never had green eyes, this many scars, or a white streak combed through his hair.

"If you don't let me bleed out on your bathroom floor I'll explain everything, I promise.”

•••

©heejayy 2024 — any reposts or translations of my works are strictly prohibited unless granted permission

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Reunion - Falling

Masterlist

Pairing: Dick Grayson x (f)reader

Tags: NSFW, miscommunication, hate sex, crying, angst, misunderstanding,

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》You and Dick have fallen into the rhythm of best friends.

He's been careful, though - didn't push things too far, especially after what happened between you two in the past.

Still, there were moments that messed with him. Like seeing other men try to flirt with you or being out in the club and overhearing you with some random guy in the bathroom. Hearing your laughter, become moans and whimpers. Every sound felt like a mini punch to his gut.

He he would unconsciously clench his hands into fists, fighting the urge to storm in and pull the creeps away from you. He’d give anything to just walk up to you and shut it down. But he knew better; he had no right to feel this way.

Tonight felt different.

It was late, and you were at his place, gathered with the rest of your mutual friends. There were half-eaten bags of chips, and beer cans scattered around the coffee table. The living room was warm, almost too warm with everyone packed in, and you were all flushed, hair sticking a little to your forehead from the effort of trying to beat each other on Mortal Combat.

“Aaaand that’s how it’s done.” Dick leaned back, grinning wide as he popped another chip into his mouth.

"God, seriously?" Your friend friend Anna groaned, tossing you the controller in defeat. "Please, show this man up."

You took the controller, making a show of cracking your neck to orepare yourself. "Alright, prepare to lose, little boy."

Dick’s eyebrow quirked as he gave you this smug look. "Think you can beat me, little girl?"

You smirked back, already selecting your character. "I know I can."

The first round kicked off, and you were on it. Fingers moving fast, you took him down easy, shooting him a wink.

He got the upper hand in round two, smirking right back at you.

By round three, it was on. Both of you were focused, neither willing to accept defeat. You stretched the game out longer than necessary. Then - out of nowhere - you felt a quick jab at your side. You jumped, letting out a surprised yelp as you glanced down to see his fingers pulling back from your hip.

"Dick!"

"What?" he asked innocently. His eyes were still on the screen, but his grin was out too.

Before you could say anything, he did it again - a quick poke that had you biting back a laugh, trying to keep control of the controller. "Quit it - "

Another jab.

You were cracking up, barely able to hold the controller, so you turned and went for revenge, tickling him back.

He let out a deep laugh, his eyes squinting as he smiled, and before long, a tickle war broke out, both of you abandoned the game completely.

Somehow, you ended up straddling his lap, both of you breathless and grinning like idiots. His arm stayed loosely around you, keeping you from tipping over.

"Do you want us to leave the room?" Tony cleared his throat from the couch, his brows quircked up.

Your eyes widened as you caught yourself, and scrambled off his lap, cheeks burning. But his hands settled on your hips, holding you in place just long enough for your gaze to meet his. There was a hint of something in his eyes that you couldn't quite read.

Unbeknownst to you, this is the happiest Dick felt in... a while.

You swallowed hard, tearing your eyes away and forcing a laugh as you climbed off him. "Uh… sorry."

Dick cleared his throat. "No, you’re good."

You stood up, smoothing out your dress and sweater. "Does anyone want something from the kitchen?" You asked the group.

"Just some paper towels." Anna asked.

You nodded and walked out of the living room. Heading into the kitchen, you grabbed a glass of water, taking a long sip to steady your nerves.

"Alright, Dicky." You heared your friends begin to pack up. "It’s been fun, man, but we gotta go."

Leaving the glass in the sink, you made your way back. But just as you were about to step back into the living room, a hand gently wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

You turned, and there he was, blue eyes locked on yours with a deep intensity. His hand slid slowly up your arm until he cupped your jaw, his fingers warm against your skin. The front door shut, and your friends' voices faded. It was just the two of you now.

He hesitated, lowering his face until he was hovering just an inch from your lips, close enough that you could feel his breath. Your gaze fell to his mouth, heartbeat hammering in your chest.

“Don’t go,” he whispered, barely audible, his voice carrying a rawness that catches you off guard.

The vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache. Without thinking, you rose onto your tiptoes, your lips pressing softly against his.

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Dick wanted to pick you up in his arms and spin you around. That kiss, that perfect kiss felt like a breath of fresh air, like the whole world had narrowed down to just this moment.

But then you pulled back. "Dick, wait i," you breathed, your hands coming up to his chest. God, your scent, your beathy voice, your warmth. He could listen to you speak his name again and again... if he could only stay this close to you forever.

His skin cried for your warmth as you stepped back timidly. Worry crept into your gaze. "I can’t do casual with you. It’s… different."

He lowered his gaze, stepping closer, hands braced on either side of your head against the wall, eyes shadowed with something like regret.

"I get it," he says, his voice hollow. "But I can’t promise you more."

If he wasn't sure before, he was certain after Christmas Eve. He wasn't worthy and wasn't responsible enough to protect everyone. That included you.

You swallowed, feeling a familiar pang in your chest you'd promised yourself you'd avoid. "Why not?"

He closes his eyes, shaking his head. "It’s… complicated." His hand brushes your nape, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Dicky…" You cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. Up close, you noticed the weariness in his eyes, the faint creases of stress around them. "What happened?" You whispered. "Talk to me. We can fix it."

"No," He shook his head, his expression conflicted. "We can’t," he said, voice tinged with sorrow. "It’s not that simple."

A silence stretched between you before he confessed, "I just… I just want to forget."

Without thinking, you murmmered, "Then do it."

He blined at you. “What?”

You nodded, swallowing down the tightness in your throat. "If… if it helps you forget, then… use me."

His face contorted, somewhere between frustration and disbelief. "Sweetheart, no, you’ve got it all wrong -"

"It’s okay." You nodded, trying to hold on to your composure. "I want to help you… however I can."

"This isn’t what I wanted," he whispers, his face pained. "I don’t think of you like that."

Your laugh was bitter. "Spare me."

His expression shifted, a frown creasing his brow. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, Dicky." You rolled your eyes, feeling a spark of anger rising. "I give up. You win."

"Win?" He asked, tone incredulous. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, congratulations." You said. "I mean, pity’s a pretty creative way to get someone in bed.” You crossed your arms. "But hey, it worked. You’re a good actor."

Before you could blink, his hand wrapped around your throat, gently but firmly, his eyes burning with hurt. "Pity?" he asked, disbelief thick in his voice. "I was being sincere."

You scoffed. "Right, and you just happened to pull out some tragic sob story to convince me."

He growled, the sound low and angry. "You were more than willing to be ‘used’ a second ago. Didn’t take much convincing."

"Yeah, well." You felt the anger simmering beneath the surface, almost boiling over. "You’re good at sex, and I’m bored. So, what do I have to lose?"

His eyes narrow. "When did you become such a-"

“Bitch?” you snapped. “Probably around the time you hooked up with someone else a day after being with me.”

He rolled his eyes. "It wasn’t a day after-"

“Doesn't matter.” You threw your hands up before crossing them in front of you. “Are we doing this, or not? Because I’m losing interest.”

The insult hung in the air, sharp and tense.

And just like that, something in his mind snapped. All of the worries of the past month came crushing down on him. His harsh training, his sleepless nights filled patrols, his rigurous studies, his dramatic family, and now you with your smart mouth. After a minute of heated silence which he used to calm his breathing, he quietly said. "Strip."

You swallowed. You felt angry and betrayed but at the same time couldn't help follow his command, cowering at the heat in his gaze. This whole situation messed with your mind.

Slowly, your hands rose to lift up your sweater, discarding in onto his floor behind you, leaving you in a frilly, soft white dress. Before you could get your hands in the material, his hand reached out to grab yours and pull you into his bedroom. Not a moment passed before you were pushed onto the bed.

"Pretty," he muttered, eyeing the white material of your dress as it slid up your thighs. "You like this dress?"

You raised a brow. "... yes why-"

"I dont." He's seen you wear that dress enough times to the bar. Seen frat boys drool as they oggled you in that dress. It had a doll like, innocent appearance to it. Held a promise of submissiveness. But the way you were speaking to him now revealed the real you. Revealed the dress was a fucking lie. And if you wanted to be treated like a doll, all you had to do was ask.

You gasped when he tore the hem of your skirt up to your neckline.

Mouth agape, you stared wide-eyed at the damage. The wide tear left your bare skin on display, the only coverage provided by your pink bra and panties. You swore you heard him mutter. "Lucky me, a matching set..." Under his breath.

You grinded your teeth together, half with anger, and half with... you weren't sure.

You really did like that dress. Partpy because of the looks wearing it earned you from everyone - him included.

Your angry gaze shifted back up to his. Dick wore a smug expression on his face.

You huffed, "When did you become sunch an-"

"Asshole?" He supplied calmly, raising a brow. "Probably sometime around when I 'hooked up with someone a day after being with you'." Shooting your own words back at you.

You opened your mouth to retort that it was actually much earlier than that, but he grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him to the edge of the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor before climbing up on top of you slowly. You caged my muscle from your sides and from above. And you couldn't help but be distracted by ridges of scars and marks lining up his skin, wondering - not for the first time - where they came from. You felt like a deer in headlights being approached by him in this state, and you couldn't fight the way your breath grew shallow as your pulse spiked.

"So that's it? Not even gonna prep me?" You hated how out of breath your voice sounded with the question.

"Do you need it?" He deadpanned. "After the forplay session we just had?"

"What forplay-" Your protest caught in your throat, exchanged for a whimper when his finger pushed aside your panties and slid into you with ease.

He groaned, closing his eyes and biting his lip. You watched with envy, wanting to be the one to bite it instead.

"Oh baby," He muttered darkly, lining himself up against your entrance and sliding into you in one swift motion. "Does arguing with me turn you on?"

You tried to bite back your moans, but he used his finger to spread his slick across your folds. It rose to rub your sensitive clit as he entered you slowly, again and again.

Your back arched against the bed as you tried and failed to hodl back those desperatenoises.

"Answer me." He ordered.

"No," you moaned, but neither of you were convinced.

"Liar." He exhaled as he thrusted into you, frustration mingling with annoyance in his expression. "I wonder, when all those pretty boys from the bars take you home, do they make you as wet as I do?"

You resisted the urge to slap him because, unfortunately, he was right. "Can you hurry up already? Im about to fall asleep" Was all you said instead.

Dick laughed. You thought you were sleeping tonight. That's cute.

Your jab was his response. "Didn't think so," he said with a grin you could only describe as evil.

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A couple more orgasms later, the two of you were exhausted, panting into each other's mouths as he continued fucking you. His movements had grown sloppy, but he still hit the right spots that made your flex to chase that high.

In another attempt to be condescending, he huffed. "Thanks for letting me use you, babe." As his fingers relentlessly rubbed your clit.

Your hands grasped at the sheets as the orgasm built up in your belly. But you weren't too far gone to throw a jab of your own. "Be sure to thank the next one tomorrow, too."

Dick’s jaw muscles flexed, and you knew you hit a nerve."I’m sorry if my ‘lifestyle’ doesn’t fit your precious worldview."

He was hitting every spot, and his fingers only added to the overstimulation. As your body shook with your nth orgasm, your mind flooded with thoughts of him with other girls, thoughts of him moving on, forgetting you exist. With the snap of his fingers. Forshadowing what was to come.

You shook your head, biting back the sting of tears. “No, you’re not.”

Then, as if to drive the point home, he cupped your face and leaned down to deliver an earth-shattering, heartbreaking kiss.

You pulled apart, your breathing coming down. Your need to pass out was hard to resist, your mind clouding eith exhastion, but the need to leave was stronger.

Turning away from him, you slid out from under him, not daring let him see your tears.

Not saying another word, you slipped on your torn dress, followed by your fiscarded sweater, then your coat. You stormed out of his apartment before either of you uttered another word.

[b38rman]

THROUGH THE MOTIONS [pt. 2] ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ Ollie Bearman

series tags - ollie bearman x afab!reader, enemies to lovers, slight angst, slight sickfic moment, eventual smut, explicit sexual content

synopsis - Between you getting an international driving permit and a rental car or having to spend time carpooling with the Ferrari Driver Academy co-driver you despised the most, you just had to choose the more difficult option. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t have anything to do with getting the permit or a rental car.)

parts - 1 | 2

rating - part 2 - explicit

warnings -  18+!!! minors dni, alcohol, driving without an international license! (please get the right paper work lol), explicit sexual content, unsafe sex

a/n - this video lowkey fired me up to write this. anyways, enjoy this filth !

Everything was almost annoyingly normal in the next few days—or at least, as normal as you and Ollie could be. It was as if both of you were just going through the motions, not caring to talk about what had just transpired. It was infuriating that you didn’t talk about it, but it was just as daunting to begin thinking about talking about it. 

Ollie would pick you up, bring you home, and you two would repeat that routine without a word uttered aside from absolutely necessary one-worded small talk. It was almost peaceful if it didn’t carry a heavy tension in the air. 

Sometimes you just wished you could figure out what he was thinking. Other times, you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted to know what was in your mind too. 

The next time Ollie picked you up was for a joint birthday celebration for two Prema engineers. The house where it was being held was quite a long drive away, and you couldn’t figure out how to get there for the life of you. Maybe it was uncharacteristic of you to text Ollie if he was going and if he could bring you, but again, you had no other options and he was bringing you to work practically everyday anyway; what was one more drive?

You waited out in the cold evening air in an outfit you wished you’d brought a thicker jacket for, and the familiar vehicle pulled up again like clockwork.

When you opened the door, your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes landed on Ollie. 

He was in a baby blue button down that looked just swanky enough to make him look more polished than usual. His curls were a bit tamer than usual too, like he’d been running his hands through them incessantly, and his cologne was a tad bit more noticeable. It made you feel like you were being flayed alive that he looked just that good. 

You got in the seat, buckling yourself in, trying not to look at him directly again as if he’d become the sun himself. 

“Why’d you give me that look?” You could hear the grin in his voice as he started the car. It filled you with a guilty, eye-roll inducing feeling—but you felt your mouth tugging up into a smile like you couldn’t control your body anymore. 

You squeezed your eyes closed, like it could stop the feelings rushing through your gut.

“You look—“ Nice. Cute. You clean up pretty decent. “—less horrible.”

His laugh was obviously complacent, like he knew he fished another ounce of vulnerability out of you. Still, you felt like that first time was more his fault than yours. After all, it was his fault he looked for you, and it was his choice to stay. 

“You too?” He answered back.

The car ride was exactly 52 minutes. You had to pretend you didn’t want to throw up for a whole 52 minutes.

When you got to the party, it was all the same with you and Ollie. It wasn’t like a few remarks were going to change anything, much less his heroics to make you drink tea when you were sick in order to make you feel even just a little bit better. 

You were convinced nothing could drastically change your dynamic. Maybe you felt like his presence, no matter how annoying it could be at times, had grown into something reliable and comfortable—like a pair of ugly yet useful boots that needed to make your toes bleed before you could walk in them.  

To an outsider, it would’ve looked like you were a couple emerging from the car. Still, there was no getting your door, helping you with your things, or holding your hand as you stepped out. It was him, then you, then the two of you separately. 

The party went on like that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. Everyone at Prema never made you feel out of place, and it was a welcome break from all the noise about ‘how it feels to be this’ and ‘what does it mean to you to do that’. 

Of course, there was alcohol, but you couldn’t bring yourself to indulge and possibly become embarrassing around anyone, especially Ollie for that matter. 

You’d drift in and out of circles, a cola in one hand and your phone in another. This was your safe space, despite how fleeting the concept of home was for motorsport drivers. Prema was steady, stable, and ready to be there for you in good times and bad times, and you hoped Ferrari would continue to be the same. It was still strange that Ollie was part of both of those things, if not an integral part of those things in your life.

As the conversations began to die down and your social battery began to falter, you found yourself sitting on a lumpy sofa in the corner of the living room, people-watching from a distance. You were content where you were, an easy smile playing on your lips as you watched 30-something Italian men gesticulate in the foreground.

That was until a familiar looming figure appeared in your periphery before taking the spot next to you uninvited.

“That’s where you went.” Ollie said simply, his breath smelling like a mix of white wine and whiskey. His cheeks were more flushed than you’d ever seen them, and you felt the warmth of his body radiate on you. 

“What d’you need?” You asked, trying not to think about your ride home later or how far down his flush went (it was disappearing down his neck and under his button down.)

“Nothing.” He paused and seemed to contemplate for a second. “A hug would be nice.” 

Forget a bear, right now he looked more like a petulant little puppy than anything.

You were confused, but considering how drunk he seemed to be, his attitude didn’t come out of thin air. He’d probably forget about all this in the morning anyway. 

“Okay, um, from me?” You trailed off as you looked at him, his arms already wide open. You should’ve been worrying about how the engineers and staff might react to this, or how embarrassing all of this actually was in the greater scheme of things. It was your fault, though, that you obliged. 

Ollie laid his arms around your shoulders and nuzzled his head into your neck, sighing. He was taller than you, so the angle was a tad awkward. Ollie didn’t seem to mind at all though. 

Little did you know that he would take it as a chance to not let go. All things considered, you accepted your fate pretty quickly.

After a few minutes, Rene (of course he’d notice first) approached the two of you, a goofy, knowing grin on his face. 

“I told you! Him driving you would get you two to like each other.” Rene said with a laugh.

“No, Rene, we’re not—“ You tried to answer back but the man shook his head.

“Nonsense. I’d know.” He winked in an overly exaggerated way to punctuate his statement. “Anyway, is your chauffer alright?”

You glanced at Ollie, who seemed to be taking a nap with his hair pressed into the nook of your neck.

“Not great.” You deduced.

“You should be the one to drive tonight, he is out of it for sure. Just don’t get caught.” Rene decided for you.

It shouldn’t have ended there, but it did. Little did you know, whatever this was didn’t really have an end in sight. 

You sat there for a moment, holding the weight of Ollie’s head against your shoulder, feeling strangely stuck in limbo. The night had shifted unexpectedly into something intimate, confusing, and decidedly uncharacteristic for the both of you.

“Alright, up you go,” you muttered under your breath, nudging Ollie’s shoulder. He groaned in protest but eventually sat up, his head lolling back against the couch.

“You good?” you asked, leaning forward slightly to catch his gaze. His eyes were glassy, his lips tugging into a lopsided grin.

“Never better,” he mumbled, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“I’m driving,” you announced, standing up and straightening your jacket.

Ollie blinked up at you, processing your words with the speed of molasses. “You don’t have a license.”

“Neither should you right now,” you shot back, holding your hand out to him. “Keys, Ollie. Or we’re both walking.”

He grumbled something under his breath before fishing the keys out of his pocket and handing them to you. His fingers brushed yours for just a second too long, and you felt a strange jolt of electricity shoot up your arm.

“Come on,” you said, avoiding his gaze and pulling him to his feet.

The walk to the car was uneventful, aside from Ollie’s occasional stumbling. You kept a firm grip on his arm, steadying him when he leaned too far to one side.

“You’re bossy when you’re sober,” he slurred, leaning his head against your shoulder as you fumbled with the keys.

“And you’re unbearable when you’re drunk,” you retorted, shoving him gently into the passenger seat.

The drive back to your host family’s house in Maranello was quiet, save for the occasional murmur from Ollie as he slouched against the window. The streets were empty at this hour, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” Ollie said suddenly, breaking the quiet. His voice was softer now, tinged with something that sounded like regret.

“Yeah, well,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the road. “I wasn’t about to leave you there.”

He turned his head to look at you, his gaze heavy. “You’re too good for that.”

You scoffed, trying to brush off the unexpected compliment. “Don’t get sentimental on me now, Ollie.”

The rest of the drive passed in a haze of quiet moments and shared glances. When you finally pulled into the driveway of your host family’s house, you turned to look at him.

“Come on,” you said, nudging his arm. “You’re not staying alone tonight.”

Ollie blinked at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Here?”

“Unless you want me to take you back to your place and risk having Dino or Rafa film you passed out on the couch,” you said, arching a brow.

He considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Fair point.”

Getting him inside was another adventure. You shushed him more times than you could count as he stumbled over the threshold, laughing quietly at his own clumsiness.

“Shh,” you hissed, dragging him toward the guest room you’d been staying in. “My host parents are asleep.”

Ollie grinned at you, his steps faltering as you guided him to the bed. “You’re like a secret agent,” he whispered dramatically.

“Yeah, well, secret agents don’t babysit drunk soon-to-be Formula 1 drivers,” you muttered, pushing him gently onto the mattress.

He flopped down with a satisfied sigh, kicking off his shoes and wriggling under the covers. You stood there for a moment, watching him settle in, his face soft in the dim light.

“You good?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

He nodded, his eyes already fluttering shut. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

“For what?”

“For… not leaving me.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply tugged the blanket up to his shoulders and turned off the light.

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Whatever this was, it wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

When morning arrived, took a moment to register the unfamiliar weight against your side, the soft sound of breathing near your ear.

Ollie.

He was still asleep, his face turned toward you, his curls a wild mess against the pillow. One of his arms had ended up slung loosely across your waist, his hand resting near your hip. You froze, your mind racing as you pieced together the hazy events of the night before, the same clothes still on as a reminder that all of this was real.

He must’ve shifted in his sleep, you told yourself. It wasn’t like either of you had planned this. And yet, the steady warmth of him next to you sent a pang of something—comfort? Panic?—coursing through you.

You shifted slightly, trying to wiggle free without waking him.

“Don’t,” he mumbled, his voice groggy and muffled. His arm tightened just a fraction, holding you in place.

“Ollie,” you whispered, trying to keep your tone steady.

“Five more minutes,” he muttered, his eyes still closed, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

“Seriously, you’re—”

He cracked one eye open, his gaze meeting yours, and the sight of him that close—soft, unguarded—made your words falter.

“You stayed with me,” he said, his voice rasping with sleep.

“Yeah, well,” you mumbled, looking anywhere but at him. “You were in no shape to be left alone.”

“Good excuse,” he teased, though his tone was gentle, his hand brushing against your side as he shifted to prop himself up on one elbow.

You shot him a look, heat rising to your cheeks. “You’re lucky I didn’t just leave you on the couch.”

“Lucky, huh?” he said, his grin widening.

There was something about the way he was looking at you—like he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment—that made your chest tighten.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?” You tried to taunt, without any bite coming out of it like you meant for it to. Instead you felt your faces inching ever closer, so close that you swore you heard his pulse racing in time with yours. 

That was finally, finally when his lips crashed into yours. Your body felt like it was about to give out, but it was even more overwhelming that you knew Ollie was right there to catch you. You were lightheaded from how much you wanted this. 

“Okay?” Ollie pulled away to ask as he moved to pin you down on your bed. You honestly couldn’t think straight anymore.

“Yeah, God, just—come on.” You replied breathlessly, and you felt Ollie smile against your lips. It was imperfect in most ways, morning breath and all, but it was everything you never knew you wanted. Maybe it was everything you weren’t allowing yourself to have.

Ollie continued to move on top of you, moving to kiss your forehead and cheeks before proceeding to bite down on your neck. That left you gasping for air, melting like putty in his hands. 

Next thing you know, you’re pawing at his button-down, all rucked up and wrinkled from your activities the night before. He made quick work of it, and soon the baby blue was discarded on the floor, the pile soon being joined by the dress you had on, and Ollie’s trousers.

“Shame, I liked that.” Ollie said as your dress hit the ground. “I like this more though.” His toothy grin took on a whole meaning of its own now, one that you’d probably think about nights from now, with your hands down your underwear. 

“Shut up.” You answered back, your body deciding to blush in spite of yourself and the situation you were already in. 

You continued kissing, harder and more desperate than before, and Ollie was grinding into you through the thin layers that still remained between the two of you. The whimpers that left his mouth made you feel a sense of power over him, one you never thought you’d have. It wasn’t drunkening though, it was more of a soft glow that you felt exuding from your body.

“I don’t have a condom,” Ollie was the breathless one now. “We don’t have to—“

“I’m on the pill.” You said with finality and a hint of desperation. You weren’t sure if you wanted Ollie to know the latter or not, but you definitely wanted what was to come.

“Fuck, okay.” Ollie looked a little blindsided by that, eyes blown wide and filled with what you could only explain as unabashed want. 

You unclasped your bra (you wished you could pause and frame the look on Ollie’s face when you did) and shimmed out of your underwear. When Ollie slipped out of his boxers, you hoped your face didn’t give away any particular thought. Because honestly, he was well-endowed.

“Like something you see?” He had the nerve to be smug as his cock was out, red and hot and waiting.

“Could say the same for you.” You retorted, pulling him down by his neck so you’d be face to face as it happened.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he seemed to get the signal because soon, you felt his tip breach your entrance. You bit your lip to prevent any noises, seeing as your host family was likely still home somewhere. 

Ollie continued to slide in slowly, biting at your shoulder probably with the same sentiments as you. When you felt his hips flush against yours, you relished in how good it felt to be completely full.

A soft “Move,” exited your mouth, and soon Ollie was pulling back and thrusting into you with force. You were so grateful your beframe wasn’t betraying you with sounds of what was going on.

It was surprisingly tender, but still so satisfying. Ollie was thrusting into you at a steady but deep pace, leaving you gasping and leaving crescent-shaped indents down his back as you tried to hold on. 

Something shifted though when Ollie hitched up your left leg and started thrusting into you harder and faster. You felt yourself barelling straight to release as you could feel everything without any barriers between you and him. 

“Ollie, please.” You cried out, him now hitting your g-spot with every thrust. He was still fucking you in earnest, but clearly getting sloppy. 

“Let go for me baby, that’s it.” Ollie encouraged, punctuating with particuarly hard thrusts, leaving you clenching uncontrollably. Eventually, you felt your orgasm roll through you, and you pulled Ollie back into a kiss just to muffle the sounds you were making.

You felt Ollie still hammering into you, and you could nearly cry from the excess of pleasure and overstimulation you felt. He laid into you with one, two more deep thrusts and he was spilling inside you with a grunt he couldn’t silence.

Ollie laid on you, his head nuzzled into your neck, softening cock still inside you. 

“You keep surprising me.” Ollie broke your solemn silence, brushing his fingers over your face. 

“I hope you like surprises.” You quipped back, unable to hold back your smile. You knew that this moment had to end sooner or later, and this would turn a bit disgusting with Ollie’s cum drying between your legs. However both of you were here now, still. Here. Still.

“I do, actually;” Ollie replied simply. “I do.”

[aelinad]

Staged Romance - Kim Namjoon One-Shot

Pairing: !Idol Namjoon x f. reader

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

Word count: ~ 28k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it that obvious?” I facepalmed myself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Use me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great, this is going to be a long night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouch,” I muttered, rubbing my head.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Can’t confirm or deny.”

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

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

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

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

“You wouldn’t dare…”

“Scared, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, sure…”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, don’t worry.”

***

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

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

Namjoon: It was a close call earlier

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

Namjoon: Jimin helping you and being all touchy

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

Namjoon: You need to play hard to get.

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

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

“Fine,” I muttered.

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

His only reply was a single red heart.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve been busy, as you can see…”

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

“Right… Okay, go on with the show.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, figured it out yet?” he asked.

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

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

“Ay ay, captain.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, first shot: everyone smile!”

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

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

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

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

But it didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I miss anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It felt like time had frozen for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, feel better," Jimin added.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So... you mean... you did that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then let go,” I whispered.

“Y/N, I’m about to—”

“Me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feels pretty real to me,” Namjoon replied.

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

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

I let out a laugh. “Confident? Maybe,” I said, grinning. “But I’d say you were pretty eager to prove yourself.”

“Oh, is that so?” he asked, his voice low and playful, as his fingers continued to trace gentle patterns along my hand. “Sounds to me like you enjoyed every second.”

I bit my lip, raising a brow. “I don’t know, Mr. Kim. You may have to convince me again.”

Namjoon’s eyes sparkled, his hand slipping around my waist, pulling me a little closer. “Careful, Y/N. If you keep teasing me, I might just have to make it my mission to remind you all day,” he murmured, his lips hovering close to mine, a playful challenge lighting up his gaze.

I smirked, raising an eyebrow. “How about I take charge today instead?”

A flicker of curiosity sparked in his eyes, and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the idea. Instead, he leaned back slightly, watching me with a smirk of his own as I moved even closer, letting the suggestion linger between us.

We were still both very much naked from last night, with only the sheet draped over us. I shifted slightly, lifting myself just enough to reach toward his nightstand on my left, remembering from last night that this was where he kept the condoms, or at least, I was pretty sure that’s where they were. Namjoon’s smirk deepened as he watched me, clearly intrigued. "Oh, I’m all yours," he murmured, his tone full of invitation. He leaned back further against the headboard, keeping his arms folded behind his head, completely giving in to the moment.

As I inched closer, I took my time, savouring the way his eyes never left mine, his gaze filled with a mix of amusement and anticipation. I slowly opened the wrapper, letting the silence hang between us, thick with tension and a playful edge. His breathing grew just a little heavier, betraying his calm facade. His cock hard and dripping already as I slid the wrapper over him.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying the view,” I teased, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder as I positioned myself just above him.

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Well, you’re making it hard not to.” He raised an eyebrow, letting his gaze roam over me. I smirked, letting my fingers trail slowly down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. "Oh, am I?" I whispered, tilting my head as I looked at him, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Because I could always take my time... really draw this out. Make you wait." 

Namjoon’s gaze darkened, his smirk widening as he tried to keep his composure. “You think I’d let you get away with that?” he murmured, but there was a challenge in his tone that only encouraged me.

I leaned in, letting my lips brush against his neck, my breath warm against his skin. "I don’t think you’re in any position to stop me, actually," I teased, pressing a few light kisses along his jaw, my hands tracing down his sides, deliberately slow.

A low chuckle escaped him, and he tilted his head slightly to give me more access, his hands resting on my hips but making no move to stop me. “Careful,” he whispered, his voice soft but intense. “I might just lose my patience.” 

“Then I guess you’ll just have to wait and see how long you can hold out,” I replied, brushing my lips just over his, close enough to feel the warmth, but keeping just enough distance to keep him guessing. I held his gaze, letting a playful smile spread across my lips as I positioned myself, teasingly closer. Leaning in, I pressed my body against his, letting him feel the warmth but still holding back. I could feel his hands tighten around my waist as his breathing grew heavier, his gaze intense with anticipation and just a hint of frustration.

Slowly, I sank down, letting him feel the barest hint of contact, then just as quickly lifted myself back up, watching his reaction. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing with a mix of desire and impatience. “You’re really testing me here,” he muttered, his voice rough, a little desperate.

I smiled at his frustration, feeling the power shift in my favour as I teased him further. "Oh, but I like watching you squirm," I whispered, my voice light, yet dripping with the tension of the moment. I lowered myself just enough to feel the brush of him against me, but pulled away before it could escalate.

Namjoon let out a frustrated groan, his hands gripping my hips with an intensity that bordered on desperate. His eyes were burning with need, and I could see the control he was trying to maintain slipping away. "Y/N... please..." His voice was rough, almost pleading, and it sent a thrill through me.

I raised an eyebrow, enjoying the way he was unravelling before me. "Please what?" I teased, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered the words.

He froze for a moment, a conflicted look crossing his features before he finally let out a frustrated breath. "Please, don't make me beg," he muttered, his voice thick with want. "I can't take much more of this."

The challenge in his tone only made me smile wider. "Oh, but I think you can," I murmured, my fingers tracing his jawline as I leaned in close again, lips barely brushing his. "Beg for it, Namjoon."

The raw edge of his voice when he finally responded—"Please, Y/N, I need you..."—was all the confirmation I needed. The desperation in his eyes, the way his body tensed and trembled beneath me, made it impossible to resist. I slowly lowered myself once more, this time not pulling away.

When I sank down, both of us moaned in unison, the sound filling the air between us. I started moving up and down, the rhythm slow at first, but I could feel Namjoon trying to hold back his moans, his control slipping. He couldn't contain it anymore, and he began moaning my name, deep and desperate.

“Y/N…”

“Yeah?” I barely replied, my voice a whisper.

“I am yours, Y/N…”

The sound of it sent a rush of heat through me, and I found myself doing the same, moaning his name as I picked up the pace, moving faster and more urgently. He tightened his grip on my hips, his fingers digging in as he helped me move faster, the thrusts harsher now, each one more powerful than the last. His lips travelled down my neck and chest, and he began to play with my breasts, his kisses trailing down my body, sending waves of pleasure through me. My hands ran down his back, nails lightly scratching his skin as he groaned into me, his body pressing harder against mine.

He groaned my name again, the sound low and desperate, making my body tremble in response. I could feel the heat building inside of me, the pleasure spiralling with every move. I arched into him, feeling his teeth graze my skin, the sensation causing my legs to shake.

My hands roamed up to his hair, tugging him closer, pulling him into a kiss that was as urgent as everything else between us. His tongue met mine, hungry and demanding. The heat between us was unbearable now, the tension mounting, and I could feel myself getting closer to the edge with every passing second.

“You’re in control, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Take what you want.”

His mouth was parted, a low growl escaping him as he groaned, his eyes dark with need.

“God, Y/N, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, his fingers digging into my skin. “Don’t stop, don’t slow down.”

I leaned down, pressing my chest against his, our lips brushing together briefly before I lifted myself again, the sensation of him filling me overwhelming. His hands slid to my back, pulling me closer, pressing me into him as he thrust up in time with my movements, making me gasp.

“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Namjoon breathed out. “I can’t... I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Say my name,” I whispered, my voice sultry as I rode him even faster.

“Y/N!” Namjoon gasped, his body trembling beneath me. “Y/N, please… don’t stop.”

The desperation in his voice made me smile, and I pushed myself to go even faster, each thrust more powerful than the last. I could feel myself getting closer, the pressure in my lower stomach tightening as I moved with him, both of us chasing that inevitable release. “Fuck, Y/N… I’m so close…” Namjoon groaned, his hands gripping my ass harder, his body arching into mine as he kept me in place, him buried deep inside, grinding back and forth, stimulating my clit with every move. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to keep his composure.

“Me too,” I panted, my voice breathless as I leaned down to kiss him, our lips crashing together in a desperate, hungry kiss. I kept riding him, faster now, each motion pushing us both closer to the edge. “Don’t stop, Namjoon... keep going...”

“I won’t,” he muttered, his voice rough, his hands pressing me down onto him harder, pushing us both to the brink. “Fuck, Y/N... I’m going to...”

His body tensed beneath me, and I felt the tight coil inside me snap as I let out a low moan, the pleasure rushing through me, making my vision blur for a moment. Namjoon followed right after, his grip tightening on me as he groaned my name, his release overwhelming him.

We both collapsed, breathless and spent, our bodies still tangled together, as the tension finally eased, leaving us in the aftermath of everything. I rested against his chest, trying to catch my breath, his heart still pounding beneath my ear.

"God," he whispered softly, his fingers gently running through my hair, his voice hushed but full of satisfaction. "That was... incredible."

I smiled, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the quiet settle between us as we tried to slow our breathing. ***

After, we showered together, the water cascading down our bodies, we shared a peaceful silence, the steam fogging up the bathroom. There was an unspoken comfort between us, the quiet intimacy of helping each other wash our bodies. The moments that would normally feel awkward or rushed felt so natural with him, every touch between us a wordless connection that I hadn't realised I was craving.

When we finally stepped out, the warmth of the room met our damp skin, and I reached for a towel, drying my hair as Namjoon looked at me with that familiar concern.

"Let me help you with your hair," he said softly, stepping closer.

I gave him a playful smile, brushing the towel through my hair. “It’s fine, Namjoon. I got it,” I reassured him, wanting to do it myself since I knew it would take a while to dry.

He chuckled, clearly not ready to stop being helpful. “Okay, then how about I make us some coffee? You probably need it after all that…” His words trailed off with a grin, but there was a hint of awkwardness in his tone, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to go from here.

“Sounds good,” I said, reaching for one of his shirts hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was oversized, the fabric soft and warm as I pulled it over my head, a small comfort against my still-damp skin. It felt right, almost like it was meant for me.

As Namjoon turned toward the kitchen, I couldn’t help but linger for a moment, watching him walk away. His broad shoulders and the way his muscles flexed with each step had my heart racing. I felt this undeniable pull to him, and the shirt I wore only made me feel closer, more connected to him. It was like I was already a part of his world, and that realisation made me smile, despite the growing rush in my chest.

I entered the kitchen, stopping in front of him to get his attention. The sight of me in his shirt, with nothing but my bare legs showing, made him freeze for a second. His eyes darkened, and the intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore. He swallowed hard, the breath hitching in his throat as he looked me up and down, as if trying to decide whether he could keep his composure or if he was going to lose himself.

Before I could say anything, he stepped toward me, and with one swift motion, he lifted me up onto the kitchen counter, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was desperate and full of hunger. “You look so good in my shirt…” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and raspy. “I don’t think I can get enough of you.”

His hands roamed to my waist, pulling me closer and I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, the heat between us escalating in an instant. But just as things started to get more heated, the sound of a phone ringing broke through the thick tension in the room. I pulled away just slightly, eyes narrowing as I tried to figure out whose phone it was. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath. It could’ve been Jungkook, or worse, my sister. Neither of them had heard from me since I’d come back here with Namjoon, and I knew they’d be worried by now. We hadn’t texted them about anything, not even letting them know I was still here.

Namjoon, looking just as frustrated at the interruption, gave me a brief kiss on the forehead before pulling away. “I’ll grab our phones,” he said, his voice heavy with need but also that underlying concern for what was going on outside the bubble we’d created for ourselves.

I slid back down from the counter, standing with my legs shaky from the intensity of our kiss. Namjoon went to grab the phones from the living room, and I quickly adjusted my shirt, feeling the sudden awkwardness of the situation hit me.

Namjoon returned with both phones in hand, and I glanced at the screen of mine, seeing the name that immediately caused my stomach to flip, my sister. I let out a deep breath before answering, holding the phone to my ear while my eyes stayed locked on Namjoon, who was now back at the counter, making coffee as though nothing had happened.

"Hey," I said into the phone, trying to sound casual, but there was a slight quiver in my voice that betrayed me.

“Y/N, are you still at Namjoon’s?” My sister’s voice was laced with concern. “I’ve been calling, texting, you didn’t answer any of my messages. We were getting worried!”

I glanced at Namjoon again, and his eyes were on me. There was no judgement, just an understanding in his gaze.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, speaking into the phone while my eyes never left Namjoon. I couldn’t help but smile at the way he moved about the kitchen so casually, so unaffected by what we’d just experienced. “I’m still at Namjoon’s, okay? I promise, I’ll explain everything later.”

My sister didn’t sound fully convinced, but she let out a small sigh. “Alright, just call me when you’re back. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I will,” I assured her, hanging up after a brief exchange of more pleasantries. I looked over at Namjoon, who had just finished making the coffee and was now smiling coming towards me. His smile was effortless, revealing his adorable dimples, and there was a warmth in his gaze that deepened with every moment we shared. As I stood there, the realisation slowly crept in that everything was finally falling into place. Soon, we'd have to explain everything to the group, the fake dating, the misunderstandings, and everything that led us to this point. Sure, some details would be left out, things that didn’t need to be said, but it no longer mattered. What mattered now was what we had here, right in this moment, real, unfiltered, and undeniable.

With Namjoon, everything felt authentic. There was no pretending, no uncertainty. For the first time, I didn’t have to second-guess myself or him. I was falling for him in a way I hadn’t expected, and this time, it wasn’t for show. It wasn’t a story we were playing out for anyone else. This was real. This was ours. And as I stood there with him, I knew that this was the beginning of something new, something I never wanted to let go of.

[myownwholewildworld]

flectere si nequeo superos, acheronta movebo (a "per aspera ad astra" drabble)

main masterlist | series masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: marcus acacius x emperor's daughter!reader. summary: for death was not the end, but the beginning. a/n: to whoever is reading this... I'M TRULY SORRY, okay?? 😭 i am a sucker for happy endings, but sometimes the heart wants what the heart needs. forgive me, please. comments, likes and reblogs are really appreciated! <3 warnings: mdni. full on ANGST. everyone dies. you've been warned. w/c: ~1.5k

Laid on his back, Marcus Justus Acacius’s life was a thin thread, just a moment away from being cut by the Parcae. It coiled and it stretched between their bony fingers, testing its resistance, its adaptability, its flexibility and elasticity. He could feel them toying with him, just another soul waiting to be reaped.

The sand beneath felt wet, his own blood pooling underneath him like a warm blanket beckoning him to go to sleep. But he couldn’t, not yet, not until he knew you’d be safe, away from harm. He was buying you time, his death an entertainment for Traianus, a loitering distraction so your father wouldn’t realise you were not in the Colosseum’s Cubiculum, watching him die.

He had ensured that the last of his loyal men took you away at dawn. Far from this forsaken city and its bloody claws, from your father’s thirst for revenge. Rome was nothing but the vestige of a forgotten promise and its Emperor was a ghoul who would stop at nothing when bereft.

Exhausted, he mentally scanned his body, weighing his options. His back hurt like hell; breathing felt like fire burning his insides; a piercing pain drilling his left temple from an almost final blow; his right fingers dislocated along with his shoulder which had popped out of its socket. And the injury right under his blood-soaked breastplate, where his torso met his hip, kept on gushing, no matter how hard he pressed the wound.

Marcus felt his life, his breath, slipping away. He was completely spent, having been in the arena for the last hour, fighting for his life like a wild animal. But the stamina, the adrenaline that fuelled him, was running out. His time was running out, one he hoped you gained — a fair exchange, one he would gladly comply to.

After duelling with opponents and animals alike, he felt clumsy, his limbs unresponsive. He was the last man standing but knew better than thinking the Emperor would grant him freedom. This was just a farce, a way of torturing him in his final moments. A lesson to others: not even an acclaimed, well-loved General was immune to Traianus’ rage.

Marcus heard a metallic, creaking sound, the gate ascending to present his next foe.

Almost choking on his own blood, his left fingers wrapped around the hilt of his gladius, and slowly turned to his side — his bloody saliva dripping off the corner of his mouth onto the dusty ground. Sticking the pointy side of the blade into the sand, he used it as leverage to stand up, his knees trembling like a newborn foal.

Two men approached him slowly, full, impenetrable armour on. One with a sword, another with a spear. Drawing a deep breath in, which caused havoc in his strained lungs, Marcus swung his own gladius in a perfect circle, then bent his knees ever so slightly to stand his ground.

Even through the pain, the fatigue and the heartache, he fought to death. The gladiator with the sword fell to his knees before his head dramatically rolled off his shoulders with ease. Marcus rotated on his heels to face his last rival; gladius tightly gripped at the ready.

“Libertas! Libertas! Libertas! (Freedom)” chanted the crowd, asking for his release.

The loud mantra was deafening and soothing at the same time. It wrapped around his achy body, knowing that even though Rome was savage, its citizens were not. A chink of hope, rather small but present. They saw the injustice unfolding in front of them, how cruel and vicious the Emperor was.

Perhaps his death would become more than just a distraction or a lesson. Perhaps it would be a wakeup call. And if so, his destiny would be fulfilled.

A sudden silence befell the Colosseum, the chanting dying off and transforming into pitiful gasps.

Marcus stopped on his tracks, catching a glimpse of the crowd — hands hovering over mouths in disbelief, faces ridden with teary, widened eyes. Then shrieking cries filling the air, pleas for mercy.

Something dark and heavy sunk to his stomach, impending dread and anxious nerves consuming him as he turned around to face the Imperial Box.

You had not been able to escape at dawn as he had planned, you were right there. Precious and beautiful and determined.

You were standing proud and mighty — a flowy, white dress hugging the hourglass figure he loved most, and golden ornaments amplifying your raw beauty. Your father was right behind you and only when the sun reflected off the blade he was holding to your neck, did Marcus react.

He lunged forward, his last enemy forgotten — heart beating wildly against his ribcage, throat closing off as tears welled up and blurred his vision. Marcus threw his gladius to the side, coming down to his knees in front of the loge.

If begging would save you, he would do it loudly and unashamedly — Marcus would drag himself over the embers of hell, set all his dignity aside, exclusively for you.

“Please, Your Imperial Highness. I beg of you. Spare her life and I’ll gladly give mine,” he screamed at the top of his lungs, his grievous voice floating above the gut-wrenching cries of the crowd.

This could not be happening. Not you, the most innocent, kind soul Rome had ever seen — that he had ever seen. His love, his devotion for you had brought you here. He could make peace with dying for you, for your freedom — but with this? Not with this senseless, revengeful death.

His eyes were transfixed on you, widened with fear, with sorrow. Asking for your forgiveness. He was sorry he couldn’t do more, he couldn’t save you.

You gifted him with a weak smile before mouthing an “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he muttered silently, desperately. Hoping his breathless confession would reach you.

Your father’s hand moved along your neck, slitting your throat.

When Marcus saw a river of red staining the front of your white dress, his body and mind just went numb, tears falling unbeknownst to him.

He’d failed. It was over. It felt like if it had been his own hand slashing your neck. Because it probably had been.

Still on his knees, he sat back on his heels, his shoulders sloping down as all purpose left him. Marcus was empty, devoid of emotion, unable to feel. A carcass of someone he was but no longer existed. There was no reason to fight, to remain on this earthly plane.

He’d rather meet you on the other side than living a purposeless, unsavoury life. He’d welcome death like an old friend and would hope for your warm embrace before embarking onto your next adventure together.

Defeated, and through a thick veil of numbness, he saw Traianus’ thumb pointing downwards. A welcome sight.

Before closing his eyes, Marcus saw the spear coming towards him on the corner of his eye.

Then darkness. Forever darkness. A final relief.

“Wait, I know he’ll come,” you begged the Underworld’s ferryman, your hands nervously twisting on your lap.

“The time has come, my lady,” his guttural, harsh voice reached your ears, but not your heart.

You knew he’d come, and you’d wait. Perhaps not today, not at the same time as you, but Marcus would join you. You could have your happily ever after away from Rome, from your father. From life. You could love each other in joint Death, since you couldn’t do it freely in life.

The small boat started moving, drifting away through the dense fog, while your sight lingered on the shore. Hopeful, always hopeful, even in death. A sudden shift in the atmosphere made you squint your eyes, distinguishing a silhouette on the shore — one you would recognise in all lives you lived.

You sprung to your feet, your salty tears mixing with your trembling smile.

“Marcus!” you called him, gripping the edge of the boat.

You watched him turn around, first confused, then understanding. When your eyes locked through the thick mist, the resolution you saw told you he’d follow you wherever you wound up. Even if that was the Underworld.

Marcus jumped into the river, swimming through the darkness and the floating souls clinging onto him. Soon enough he got to you, strong arms lifting him up over the edge of the boat. You sighed, a wave of comfort washing over you as you welcomed him in your warm embrace.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it today,” you confessed, cradling his face with your lips closed to his.

“For you, I’d give up my life in the blink of an eye, mea vita (my life). Don’t you ever forget that,” he whispered, his thumb caressing your bottom lip.

Knelt on the ferryman’s boat, you hugged each other, his soothing hands roaming your body as you blended into a loving, eternal kiss.

For death was not the end, but the beginning.

[chilumi-shipper]

A prompt came into mind.. up to you if you're interested.

So, character and reader got married but character cheated because he said he doesn't love the reader anymore. They're technically done, but haven't finished doing the divorce files (because it's expensive and takes a long long time). But.. character got into an accident.. which made him forget everything that happened recently, and only remember the days he loved the reader. Reader's conflicted, the mistress that character has doesn't know what to do either. Character was confused on why he would marry anyone else when he has the reader fo begin with.

I think this fits your styles.

Btw, I LOVE ALL YOUR STORIES! I RE-READ THEM EVERYDAY-

Someone Better

Childe x Fem!Reader

Summary: Childe was a wild spirit, so when he got bored of your relationship, he sought the excitement of another woman. You were heartbroken, ultimately asking for a divorce. But just as your connection was almost severed, he got into an accident, losing every memory of his infidelity and returning to the man that made you fall in love him.

Tags: Cheating, Amnesia, Pining, Angst/No Comfort

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You were staring at the tremendous amount of divorce paperwork sitting on the desk of your hotel room.

It was very complicated, five years of marriage with joined insurance, property, bank accounts, and now you have to meticulously separate all your joined assets, all while constantly on the verge of a breakdown.

Not to mention you had no family to stay with in Snezhnaya. There's absolutely no one you could talk to about everything, you've left your homeland thinking your future in the cold nation with the love of your life would be nothing less that fantasy.

As you rest your head on the desk and closed your eyes tightly to ease the headache, your ears perk up as loud knocks hit your door.

With a groan, you got up and opened it to reveal your two of Childe's older siblings.

"He's looking for you." The older sister said, Alevtina, her seriousness evident, looking at you somewhat panicked.

"I know, big si-" I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. "I'm working on the assets, I'll send it as soon as possible."

"No." The chilly tone of the older brother, Alexei, sent shivers down your spine. "You need to come with us."

...

"Big sister Y/N is here?" You hear Teucer's innocent voice as you enter their home. The younger children laid their eyes on you, seemingly eager to come closer, but perhaps they've been told that now would not be the time.

"Honey... Thank you for coming..." Their mother embraced you warmly, still accepting you with motherly affection. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry..."

"Mama, has he calmed down?" Alexei asked from behind you.

Your mother-in-law parts from you slightly, looking at you tenderly. "She will definitely help."

You put your confusion and questions aside, seeing the somewhat tense air within the house.

"Stop staring." You weren't looking at him, but you felt his eyes watching you set down a tray of soup and medicine on his bedside table.

Childe lets out a chuckle. "Sorry, love, I can't help it..." His eyes never faltered, containing a look of admiration that you've been unfamiliar with for so long.

"After the avalanche, I got a pretty bad head injury. When I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind. And when Mama said you weren't here with me, I freaked out."

You sat down on a chair next to his bed, your eyes observing the bandages wrapped around his head. "What did the doctor say about your injury?"

"I'm gonna get some very bad headaches, and I also got a bit of amnesia, I think." Childe looks as if he's in thought. "Do I seem like I forgot something?"

"Maybe some things..."

"But I love you just the same! So I bet what I forgot wasn't even that important!"

...How cruel.

Having to take care of the man that broke you apart, even worse, a version of him that you loved too much to despise.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It was painful, staying with him.

Childe would keep you close, call you his different pet names, cuddle up to you, all while you were under the pitiful gaze of his family that knew of his infidelity.

On the other hand, he's been feeling the cold responses his advances have been receiving. But to him, he thinks he can solve it by smothering you in more of his love.

He is pretty observant, he's put it two in two together that he may be missing a memory in which he had done something wrong. He just didn't know how much it had hurt.

Though, not only from you, Childe had also felt that his younger siblings seem distant as well, no longer asking him to play snow games outside, or looking up to him as some sort of hero.

One early morning, when he walks up to the kitchen to see you cooking for the whole family, a smile formed on his face.

He steps closer, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. "Hmmm... Morning, honey..." He basks in the feeling of you.

You remain quiet, letting him do as he pleases. The ginger frowns, however, feeling unsatisfied by your lack of reaction.

"Babyyyy... Loveee meee backkkk..." He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck.

"Ajax, come on..." You stifled a laugh, moving slightly away as his action tickled you. He hears the slight giggle of your words, smiling against your skin.

You compose yourself, pushing him away from you. "Stop." He lets you push him away, and you feel him freeze slightly at the harshness of your tone.

His blue eyes looked at you worried. "...Hey," He starts. "I'm sorry, darling, did you not like that?"

With a sigh, you looked down. "When the others wake up, tell them I already made breakfast. I have somewhere to be."

You walk pass him, but you did not miss the hurt tone of the faint call of your name.

...

You come back to his family's home after doing some more paperwork for the divorce that your husband doesn't even remember, feeling your head pounding as you ready yourself to face him again.

What you don't expect to see this late at night is Childe sitting on the porch with a lantern next to him, his head hung low as if he's thinking deeply.

"Childe?"

He looks up, but he frowns at you. "Ajax, darling..." He reminds you.

Standing up, he pulls you into his warm embrace. "I love you... I missed you..."

His words take you aback, as you reluctantly wrap your arms around him.

"I've been thinking about this morning, about you. You hate me."

"I know I must've done something... you can tell me." He kneels in front of you, staring at your eyes while his sparkle with the light of the lantern. "And even if I don't remember, I'll make it right..."

As you look down at him, you see the fiery passion of love that burned in his eyes as he knelt down to ask you to marry him so long ago.

It scares you...

You might not be able to control yourself...

"It's just hard to take care of you sometimes." You smile ever so slightly, yet his frown only deepens as tears start to escape your eyes.

He stands, his hand finds its way to your cheek. "Love..." His eyes held such conviction that you've not seen for years. "I'm so sorry..."

You close your eyes to hold in the tears, shaking your head and swaying his hand away. "...You're not."

Despite the tears, you tug at his arm. "Come on, let's head inside."

He's filled with questions, but seeing your sad face makes him set all those aside and focus on you for now.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Teucer, hey, little man." Childe calls for his little brother.

The little boy looks at him wide eyed. "I don't want to talk to you." He crossed his little arms, turning around to leave with a displeased look.

"What...? Oh come on..." The harbinger pouted, getting down on his little brother's level. "What did I do wrong...? All our siblings are acting so mean to me..." He whined, frowning as he tries to persuade the little ginger.

"But you were also very very mean!" Teucer refused to look at his older brother, the one he used to look up to the most. "We don't like you anymore!"

Childe's playful facade faded as his expression contorted to a confused one. "Hey, what do you mean...?"

"You're so mean to Y/N, you hurt her! She doesn't deserve tha-"

"Teucer!" Just as his brother erupted to a crying mess, screaming at him with all his little heart, their mother walked into the room, grabbing the little boy.

"Don't talk like that to your elders!"

"But it's true, Mama!"

"That doesn't matter, say sorry to-"

"What does he mean, Mama? Why did I do?" Childe looked at his mother expectantly, his voice starting to shake as he saw the fit of rage Teucer had because of him. "W-What did I do to Y/N?"

HIs mother shook her head, trying to ease her expression with a smile. "Nothing..."

"It's not nothing, Mama!" He raises his voice by accident due to his frustration. "I see it, the way she looks at me, it's different. The way you all look at me, like you have a monster inside your house."

Teucer forced his way out of his mother's hold, running to his older siblings room all teary eyed. Childe felt bad, but he desperately needed answers from his mother.

"Mama, please, I need to know why Y/N doesn't... love me anymore..." It hurts him to say, but based on the way you're acting, he could only make the assumption that your feelings have wavered.

"Oh, Ajax... it's not like that..."

The ginger then felt a sharp pain in his head, making him fall down onto the couch. He groaned as he clutched his head.

"Hey... where are you heading off to so late at night?" He hears your soft voice in a static audio playing in his head.

"Out." He then hears himself replying coldly.

"Ohh, when will you-"

He's out the door before you could even finish your question.

"Ajax, honey!' His mother's voice was a hazy blur as he keeps his eyes closed to envision what he's hearing in his head.

He tries to shake the feeling away, but his mind is flooded by fragmented memories.

"You've been going out a lot more recently." Your concerned voice entered his ears.

"I've been busy."

"Busy where?"

He then hears shatters of glass and yells as you sob while trying to talk to him.

He pictures your face, your crying, begging face, asking for some sort of salvation from his cold and merciless actions.

"T-There's someone else?"

"Someone better."

"H-How could y-you do this?"

"When I look at you now... I feel... nothing."

Childe opened his eyes, not realizing that tears had started to flow to his cheeks. "Mama..."

"Y-Yes, dear?"

"I hurt her..." He was in a state of disbelief. "I-I... Why...?"

His tears fell faster, looking at his mother for answers. "W-Why, Mama? Why was I so stupid? Why did I choose to lose her?"

"I don't know, dear, but that's simply what happened, and you could never make her forget that, even if you forgot."

His breathing started to accelerate, feeling like he wanted to punch himself. As his head started spinning, his vision turns black.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

You took a deep breath as you walked into the house, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you entered.

"Honey..." Your ex mother-in-law embraces you once again, holding you tight. "I'm so sorry... I didn't want to make it difficult for you..."

"N-No, no..." You returned her hug, sniffling as you start to tear up. "I readied myself for this, I'm just here to drop off the final papers..."

"Could you talk to him?" Alevtina suddenly asked, looking at you hesitantly. "I know he's been a jerk... but he won't eat unless he talks to you."

You parted from their mother, feeling the pressure of their request.

"It's okay to curse him, or to scream, or rough him up, I'll even help you." Alexei placed his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

You nodded, sighing as they guided you to his room. And as you entered with a heavy feeling in your chest, he immediately sat up, alerted by your presence. You stare at each other for a bit before you muttered a word.

"Hi." You greeted him shortly.

"Hey..." His voice was soft, and his eyes followed you attentively.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I'll make this quick." You breathe deeply, trying to relax yourself. "I finished the papers, split the assets, got the lawyers."

"I talked to her, y-your woman..." You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. Childe seemed unfazed by it, though his gaze seem to falter at the mention of 'his woman'.

"She... umm... wasn't really interested anymore after the accident..." You breathe heavily, feeling small under his gaze. "But... your family's here to take care of you..."

Clearing your throat, you continued. "I do have one request, if I could... I would like a safe boat ride back home." You stepped closer, intending to hand him the envelope that contained all the paperwork to finalize your divorce.

"Take it all." You stopped in your tracks as he spoke.

"The house, the mora, the boat. It's all yours..." He lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Would you also do me a favor?"

You looked at him, encouraging him to speak.

"Carve my heart out and take it with you."

"...Can we be serious for a second?" You sighed.

"I would like to stay with you. I think that would be a good way to do it without constantly wanting to punch myself." You noticed that his eyes started to flood with tears.

"Ajax... I'm sorry this happened to you..."

"No, Y/N, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything." He sat up again, tears falling from his eyes as he looks up at you with genuine eyes. "I don't know why I did that. And I... I regret it so much..." He reached for your hand, and you let him hold onto you for strength.

"Every tear I had in me I already cried when you left me for her." You smiled bitterly, though you remained soft, making him even more guilty as you try to stay strong. "But I appreciate the apology..."

You pull your hand away from him slowly, feeling that he was reluctant to let go.

"I-I still love you..."

You gave him a final smile. "You'll love someone better than me... Childe..." You back away, leaving him alone in his room still yearning for the days where his memory only consisted of loving you.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hiiii again after quite a while! I think I've been noticing that my recent fics have been angst, I guess I just feel like hurting you guys this season of giving (I give pain :D)

Anywayy, anon, I think at some point I went my own direction and didn't fully stick to your request (I'm sorryyy TvT) but I hope you like it anyway!

[wildwestdean]

hey, hi, how(dy) are you doing? 🤠 I’m excited to see more of your writing, so have fun with your writing-weekend! I'm sick rn and even though I'd like to also sit down and get stuff done, I'm just too beat. Silver lining of it: I can turn it into a little request.

How about a scenario in which the reader is sick, but stubborn and restless? She refuses to lie down in bed, she won't take her meds (they always make her feel groggy), decides that somehow cleaning around the bunker with a fever is a good idea, etc. Dean has to convince her to get some rest, maybe by bribing her with something like watching her favorite cheesy romcom movie. I know I wish I had a Dean nursing me back to health, lmao.

howdy, liane! 🤠 thank you so much for sending this in, though i'm sorry to hear that you're sick :(

i hope you enjoy this lil comfort piece, and that you feel better soon! (if i could send dean to take care of you, i would lol)

repose

word count: 2.6k+

warnings: some mentions of violence/mutilation in the beginning, established relationship, stubborn reader, reader puts her own health on the back burner, reader doesn't like to feel useless, fluff, a touch of angst, minor swearing, protective dean, worried dean, dean goes full caretaker mode, dean just really loves reader, sharing a bed (innocently!), some snuggling, briefest mention of clothes being taken off, reader gets carried around, more fluff

Dean knew it was a bad idea. 

He knew he should’ve tried harder to stop you, but really, what was he supposed to do? The suspect was about to get away, and you were too stubborn in your ways once you set your mind to something. All he could do was watch as you ran out the door, quickly disappearing within the sheets of freezing rain that were falling while he cursed to himself. 

His first thought wasn’t a declaration of fear that the suspect might get a drop on you. No, despite your appearance, your skills were rivalled only by those of Sam and Dean themselves; they taught you everything you knew, after all. Instead, shockingly, the first thought to cross his mind was: she’s going to catch a cold. 

Hurrying after you, you two easily managed to apprehend the suspect to haul him back to the warehouse for questions, all while Dean grumbled about how you should’ve stayed put and let him deal with it; a rant that only earned him a roll of your eyes in return. You didn’t venture out very far, and while it did feel like you were soaked straight through to the bone, the warehouse was growing closer and would soon offer respite from the downpour - his worrying, like usual, would end up being over nothing. 

Yet the chill you were met with once back in the warehouse almost had you regretting your choice, and had it not been for the sickening grin you were given by the douchebag that Dean was currently tying to a rickety chair, you probably would have. You were convinced it was even colder in here than outside; but you refused to let Dean in on that fact.

He didn’t pick up on it right away, focusing solely on extracting the answers that were buried behind the soulless eyes he glared into. He always enjoyed taking his time when it came to things like this, letting the fear and dread settle in their hearts as he threatened to carve into skin or chop off extremities. It was fun, really, and he was enjoying it right up until you decided to pitch in, voicing your own threat of cutting off a very precious body part piece by little piece.

As soon as the words left your mouth, Dean took on a new sense of urgency to get the information you two needed. You could see it in every choice he made: how his pacing quickened, how his voice got darker and tighter while his patience drained away, how he stopped giving warning before his knife dove into flesh. 

You knew he was suddenly in a hurry to wrap this all up, but what you didn’t know was why. You didn’t know that when you spoke, Dean heard the waver in your voice, the quiet chatter of your teeth as you shivered from the cold. You didn’t think it was noticeable, but when it came to you, there was nothing Dean wouldn’t notice. 

With the increase of effort and decrease of delicacy, it wasn’t much longer until Dean finally got what he needed, and he plunged his knife through skin and muscle one final time before eagerly leading you from the warehouse.

“Wait here,” he requested, gently tugging you back just before you could step outside. 

“What, why?” you asked, silently amazed at how warm his palm felt on your arm despite being just as drenched as you were. “We need to finish up.”

“Just wait here,” he repeated, running out into the darkness before you could even reply. 

Left confused in his wake, all you could do was stand there and wait for him to return, trying to ignore the way your whole body wanted to tremble in response to the frigid air. You really, really longed for a hot shower right now, and the fact you knew you needed to dispose of this body somewhere out in this storm made tears threaten to spill over onto your still dampened face. 

The sight of Baby’s headlights cutting through the curtain of rain was like a breath of fresh air to you, and you yearned to just curl up on her front seat while the heat blasted from the dash. 

“One step at a time,” you told yourself. “Take care of the body, then you can warm up on the drive back.” 

Dean made it clear he had other plans in mind when he pulled up as close to the door as possible, leaving the engine running as he ran back over to you. 

“Heat’s on,” he declared, shaking some excess water from his jacket. “Lock yourself inside, I shouldn’t be too long.” 

“Too long doing what?” you asked, totally lost. 

He looked just as confused as you were, not understanding what you didn’t understand. 

“Getting rid of the body,” he declared after a moment, as though it were completely obvious. 

“You’re not doing that alone,” you argued in bewilderment. 

“Yes I am,” he argued back. 

“Dean-” you wanted to argue some more, but he cut you off by taking your face in his palms. 

“Even the screams couldn’t cover up he sound of your knees knockin’ together,” he teased. “Go wait in the car, baby. If you don’t go willingly, I’ll gladly toss you in.” 

You had the urge to say no, wanting to be useful and help him, but you backed down when you saw the look in his eyes.

“Fine,” you agreed, sighing in defeat. “But if you’re not back soon, I will be coming to find you,” you warned. 

Dean grinned in triumph as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Understood,” he confirmed, guiding you to the car before heading off to carry out his mission. 

It wasn’t until a few days later, when you finally made it back to the bunker, that you realized maybe Dean’s worrying hadn’t been over nothing after all. Despite having the heat cranked all the way up in every motel room, those worn down radiators could really only do so much. The piercing winds would seep through the meekly insulated windows, finding you even under the feigned safety of blankets and tight embrace of Dean; not to mention there being no way to avoid the icy blows whenever you made stops along the road. The sheer lack of sleep you got due to rushing back home seemed to be the final nail in the coffin, and your body was too exhausted to fight off the inevitable. 

It started as a tickle in your throat, which resulted in you continuously chugging back tea and honey; honey that Cas was extremely thrilled to provide you with. Dean was quick to notice you started doing this, and took it into his own hands to bring you a mug whenever you were tied up with Sam and looking into some lore, or tirelessly helping Jack understand his latest discovery of the day. 

When the tickle in your throat developed into you having a full blown cough, he bought you your favourite cough drops, keeping an eye on them to make sure you didn’t run out. Though when they seemed to not be enough, he made sure to get you some cough syrup, too. 

He did his best to make sure you didn’t do too much, but asking you to take things easy was like asking a baby not to cry. It just wasn’t going to happen. You had the constant need to be productive, to be helpful. Feeling a little under the weather wasn’t going to change that. Him getting you to see a doctor was nothing short of a miracle, and the fact you were just about as stubborn as him was nearly ironic; he would laugh about it if he wasn’t so worried about you. 

His worry only magnified tenfold when he went to check on you one night, only to find your room empty. He tried convincing you to let him stay with you like usual, but you didn’t want him to get sick, too. He was really regretting not pushing back on that more, now that he found you in the library, lost in a pile of books; he had to take a breath to compose himself before speaking. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, approaching the table. 

“Research,” you croaked, eliciting another coughing fit. 

“Research?” he baulked. “For what? And why now?” 

You coughed once more, chugging down the rest of your tea before replying. “T’help Sammy. Couldn’sleep anyway,” you sniffled, words jumbled together from congestion.  

Dean sighed heavily, taking a seat beside you. “You didn’t even try to sleep, did you?” 

The lack of response from you told him everything he needed to know. 

“Alright, come on,” he announced, reaching for the book you were reading. 

Your reaction time was definitely slower than usual, but you still managed to pull the book out of his reach just in time. “No.” 

Knowing it would be a losing battle, and that it would probably cause more harm than good to just toss you over his shoulder and carry you to your room, he got up with a huff and left. You assumed he was angry, and felt a little guilty for upsetting him when he was just looking out for you, but you knew you were fine enough to carry on with this for a while longer.  

The last thing you currently expected was for him to return with a bowl of your favourite soup, leftover from when he made some for you earlier, and another large mug of tea, placing them on the free space in front of you before sitting back down. 

“If you wanna be helpful, then you’re gonna sit there and eat while I look for whatever the hell it is we’re looking for,” he ordered, easily snatching the book from you. 

“Fine,” you mumbled, picking up the spoon. “Bossy,” you added, hoping he didn’t see the smile playing on your lips as you feigned annoyance. 

He definitely did, but he kept it to himself as you gave him a cliff notes version of what you were looking into in between spoonfuls of soup. 

You aren’t sure when it happened, but at some point between finishing the soup and drinking half the tea, you started to drift off; the warmth of his palm on your thigh and comfort of his soft voice rambling on beside you lulling you to sleep. 

This time, Dean knew he would win the battle against you, and he carefully took you in his arms and carried you to bed, staying with you until morning.

Days had continued to go by, and you only seemed to be getting worse. Dean didn’t know what else to do and it was driving him mad - he couldn’t stand to see you like this anymore. 

He refused to take no as an answer now when it came to him doing things for you, and took over every task you tried to start. He followed you around, practically glued to your side, never letting you lift a finger and being a second pair of eyes when you did any research. 

Research that he tried to stop from coming in by threatening to break Sam’s legs if he didn’t quit bothering you for help, only to find out you were doing it of your accord. 

Even Jack had decided to stop coming to you for things until you were better, since he knew you’d never let him heal you.

Yet Dean knew it wasn’t enough. He knew you needed to just fucking lay down and rest. 

Waking up in the middle of the night to find your side of the bed empty once more, Dean stormed off towards the hub of the bunker as he shouted your name - he didn’t care if he woke everyone up at this point. 

He didn’t stop until he found you in the kitchen, frantically cleaning and completely unaware of his presence. 

“Baby?” he asked cautiously, hesitantly approaching you. 

“'m’not going back t’bed,” you told him, not even looking at him.

“Okay,” he said. “Why not?” 

“Too much t’do,” you replied simply, trying to breeze past him. 

“Hey, whoa,” he called, gently taking hold of your shoulders. “Look at me.” 

“I’m fine,” you said automatically, meeting his gaze after he forced your chin up.

He took note of your distant gaze and pale skin, practically burning under his touch. Suddenly, everything seemed to click into place. “You’re really not, sweetheart,” he determined, tucking your hair behind your ears. “You haven’t even been taking your meds, have you?” 

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at his question, before you averted your gaze in guilt. “No.” 

Dean wanted to be mad at you. Well, truthfully, Dean was mad at you. You’ve been doing seemingly everything you could to prevent yourself from recovering, while Dean was trying as hard as he could to help you. He wanted to yell at you, but more importantly, he just wanted to understand. 

“Why?” he asked gently, softly running his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks. 

“They make me groggy,” you told him.

“You mean they make you sleep,” he corrected, knowing what it was you wouldn’t say. “I don’t understand why you won’t let yourself rest.” 

You shrugged helplessly, feeling smaller than ever under his searching gaze. “I don’ like feelin’ useless.” 

“You’re not useless, baby. You’re sick,” Dean defended. 

“Still,” you said, not having a better argument. 

“How about we make a deal?” he suggested, fully understanding how it feels to not want to lay around and not help with anything. 

“Like?” you wondered, lightly shoving him away so you wouldn’t sneeze on him. 

“Like,” he said, feeling more and more like this was the best idea. “You leave this mess as is, go take your medicine, and lay down with me.” 

“That’s not a deal,” you argued. 

“I didn’t finish!” he said with a laugh. “You do that for me, and that disgustingly cheesy movie you love so much? Not only will I watch it with you from start to finish, but I won’t even make a single joke about it.” 

“But what about-” 

“Sam and I can handle the mess later,” he said with a sigh, already knowing what you would ask. 

“‘kay,” you sniffled. “Deal.” 

“Good,” he grinned, not giving you a chance to change your mind and scooping you off your feet to carry you once more.

He made a stop at the bathroom first, so that he could help you freshen up and do your usual nightly routine. Lord knows he watched you do it enough times to know it step by step, and he was never more grateful for that than right now.

Once that was all taken care of, he took you to your room to get you fully settled for the night. He gently peeled off your lounge clothes to slip one of his clean sweatshirts over your head before tucking you into bed. He grabbed you a glass of water so you could take your medicine. He hunted down extra blankets to keep by the bed in case you got cold. He settled in beside you, setting up the movie as you nestled against his chest. 

It was barely even 20 minutes in by the time you were sleeping soundly in his arms. Dean smiled to himself, carefully landing a kiss on the top of your head as he carried on with the movie. 

He started to doze off about halfway through, and he knew that if this was the deal he’d have to make every night for whoever knows how long, he’d willingly and gladly do so. 

There was nothing in the universe that mattered to him more than you and your wellbeing. 

Besides, even though he’d never admit, these romcoms you liked really weren’t half bad. 

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[corazondebeskar-reads]

fall, with you: part four - thanksgiving

Joel Miller x gn! reader

main masterlist |mini-series masterlist | prev

words: 2.3k

summary: the new world may be hell, but you still have things to be thankful for.

warnings: pre- and post-outbreak, death, cordyceps, loss, grief, outbreak day, fluff weaponized for angst

note: anything in italics is either during or post outbreak. everything else is pre-outbreak. this story is not told chronologically and skips around a lot. i'm experimenting for fun.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Nate finds you exactly where he thought he would. In the kitchen of your new home, packing your backpack. 

“No,” he says bluntly. “Nope. Nuh-uh.”

You turn on your heel and stare at him. “It’s not up to you.”

“Was he abusive?” 

You’d fine back to packing and freeze to look up at him again. “No. God, no.”

“So what was it? Cheated? Ran over your dog?”

“No, it wasn’t anything. It’s none of your fucking business.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he spits, knocking your bag off the table. 

You sneer. It’s not the first time you’ve butted heads like this. Neither of you has a great trauma response, given the whole apocalypse thing. “I decide where we go,” you snarl. “You don’t.”

“Not this time. Not when we’re finally somewhere safe. Somewhere normal. I have never questioned you, I’ve never even complained. Just followed you across the goddamn country. But unless you have a good fucking reason, like he’s some psycho ex—“

“He was the love of my fucking life,” you snap.

“I mean it, sugar. I know it seems like I’m bein’ impulsive but I swear I got a ring waitin’ back home,” Joel said, thumb stroking your cheek as his hand cradled your face, thick fingers warm and gentle against it. “I ain’t ever been more serious. You’re the love of my fuckin’ life. Say yes, baby. Marry me.”

“What’ll Sarah say?” You blurt. 

He grins, crooked and fond. “See, that’s what I mean.” He kisses you, slow and tender, and you melt into it, almost forgetting why you’re sitting on the ground in tears to begin with. 

“Whaddya say, sugar? You gonna be mine? Gonna make us a family?”

As if you could say anything else. “Yeah, Joel,” you murmur, “I’ll marry you. Of course I will.” You wait a beat. “You really got a ring back home?”

“Sure do. Whole speech planned out ‘n shit, too. But I couldn’t fuckin’ wait anymore.”

You let out a shaky laugh, a crooked grin of your own. “Y’ain’t supposed to get me gifts on your birthday.”

He puts on a fake pout. “You’re my gift, baby,” he says, lip twitching as he fights the smirk. 

You shove him away playfully. “Gross. You old sap.”

He laughs, head tipped back. “What can I say? It’s all for you, sugar.” 

You’re horrified to find tears burning in the corner of your eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” you mutter. 

But he’s right. He’s right, he’s right, he’s right. You can’t drag him back out into the wilderness, to another failing QZ, to inevitable death. This is a town, a community, a home.

A chill is just starting to settle over Jackson, the hint of a frost in the early morn, when Tommy Miller turns up on your porch. 

You open the door after several beats of insistent knocking, and the man stands there in the flesh and blood, looking just the same but twenty years and a lifetime older. 

“Does my brother know you’re here?” he says, eyes as wide as the early November moon.

“Who’re you? Does my brother know you’re here?” 

You let out a strangled cry and spun around, sponge raised as if it would frighten the intruder. But you recognize him from the photos all around the house and relax, grimacing as soapy suds drip down your arm. “Nah, I like to break into houses and do the dishes,” you drawl. “You must be Tommy.” You introduce yourself and realization dawns on his face. 

You fumble for a towel to dry your hand before proffering it. He takes it and matches your firm handshake before scratching the back of his neck, looking sheepishly to the side in a mirror of his older brother.

You can’t say anything. Your mouth gapes open, but nothing comes out. It really is him. Not that you really doubted it, because the evidence was kind of indisputable, but there he is. The man that was to be your brother in law getting mud all over your porch. 

Finally, you just shake your head, stepping aside to let him in the house. 

He comes in and starts pacing, tracking clods around the living room. 

“Tommy Miller, you take your goddamn shoes off in my house,” you scold.

He freezes and looks up at you. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and suddenly you’re being smothered, stifled in the bulk of his jacket as he wraps his arms around you. “ Jesus Christ.”

Nate chooses that moment to clomp down the stairs like a herd of horses. “Is that him? Damn, he’s not your type at all.” 

You start to laugh. It sneaks up on you, silent at first, shoulders shaking, until it’s bubbling out of you. Maybe it’s a little hysterical, but you’re allowed, you think.

There’s a plan. Tommy insists. As much as you’d like to pretend you can avoid running into Joel, the fact is that this town is small and collaborative. You can’t avoid anyone. 

So. There’s a plan.

Tommy breaks the news to him gently at their weekly dinner. Ellie comes by later to swap comics with Nate and reports that Joel had stood up and left, bypassing his jacket and going straight out the door. No expression, no words, nothing. 

It could have been worse. You expect fully that he doesn’t want to see you, doesn’t want any reminders of before. Of Sarah. And truth be told, you’re not that thrilled to have been forcibly dragged down memory lane, either. 

But Tommy’s a persistent bastard, and so it happens anyway. He calls your name, flagging you down as you stand with your tray in the mess hall, looking for a seat. The man sitting across from him whips around, head turning so fast you can almost hear his neck crack. 

Where Tommy Miller has grown into the apocalypse with relative ease, the same cannot be said of his brother. Joel wears each year, each loss, each kill in the lines of his face, the cold of his eyes, the set of his jaw. You stare for a moment into the hazel eyes that used to crinkle with laugh lines, that used to darken with hunger in the deep night, that used to be your safe space. 

But there’s none of that now. The wrinkles on his face speak of more stress than a human body should reasonably endure. His eyes darken with something so anachronous to your Joel that you can’t even identify the feeling. And there’s no mistaking them for anything soft or safe. The lips that used to map every inch of your body are twisted in a scowl.

You don’t realize your hands are shaking until your drink spills, knocking you out of his thrall. Abandoning your tray on the nearest surface, you bolt. 

Born and raised in QZs, it became painfully apparent that Nate was terrified of animals. And seeing how that wasn’t really sustainable in a town like this, you’ve taken to slowly introducing him to the fluffier, nicer critters. But now it’s time. 

You’ve got to teach him to ride.

Horses are the worst. They’re big and tall and wrong , he says, like someone was trying to put them together and kept messing up but was too lazy to fix it. “And they know too much,” he adds, standing four feet away as you saddle up the gentlest mare in the stable. 

You snort. “The fuck does that mean?”

“Look at their eyes. Their cold, dead eyes. They know things. Secrets.” 

You roll your eyes. “Sure. They know secrets. My dad’s horse knew a secret,” you say with a conspiratorial grin. “He used to wait until my daddy turned his back and then he’d pick up his Coke between his big teeth and throw his head back.”

Nate stops in his fretting. “Your dad’s horse drank Coke?” 

“Yep. Little conniving sneak, he was. Absolute troublemaker. But Penny here ain’t gonna give you a lick of trouble.”

It’s not long before he’s comfortable in the saddle, if not thrilled about it. When you finally join him on horseback, you’re a little more nervous than you want to admit. It’s been twenty years, after all. 

But it feels familiar. “Just like riding a bike,” you mutter. 

“Maybe I’m not the expert since I’ve never been on a bike, but like logistically, this has to be very different,” Nate says. 

After your ride, you send him off while you untack and groom the horses. You’ve hung up the reins and are reaching for a brush when someone else’s hand bumps yours. “Oh, sorry,” you start instinctively and recoil when Joel pulls his gloved hand back sharply. 

It’s too much, in the little tack room, this close, this distant. 

Joel’s eyes on you, taking you in and trying to parse the you now from the you then.

Joel’s eyes on you, roaming, craving.

Joel’s beard scratching against his glove as he rubs his chin.

Joel’s beard scratching against your belly on his way down.

Joel, with you, in a barn, sweaty after a long ride, bundled up against the creeping winter. 

Joel, with you, in a barn, sweaty after a long ride, bundled up against the creeping winter.

Your head is spinning. You take a staggering step back, wavering.

You wake up on a cot in the clinic.

Nate’s sat in a chair by your side, picking at his nail beds and trying not to look worried. He relaxes minutely before getting pissed when you confess to the doctor that you haven’t been eating much. You don’t keep much at home, nobody really does, and you’ve been avoiding the mess hall for reasons that you don’t need to say out loud. 

They let you go with a scolding about the dangers of doing activities without proper nutrition, like you don’t know that, like you haven’t been starving in the wasteland like the rest of them at some point.

Tommy stops by with a frankly absurd amount of soup. “Heard you had a little fall today,” he says. 

“Whole town know I’m a klutz now?” you joke half-heartedly.

He gives you a look. “Nah. A big grumpy birdie told me.”

You cringe. 

“Look,” he says with a sigh. “Come by our place for the harvest, okay?”

“Come ‘round our place for Thanksgiving,” Joel says. 

“I can’t intrude,” you protest.

“Ain’t intruding on anything, baby. We want you there. But I gotta warn you, we do things a little different. It ain’t your regular Thanksgiving fixins, okay?”

“What?”

“We’re doin’ a harvest dinner. Kinda like Thanksgiving. There’ll be a lunch at the mess on Thursday but we’re havin’ family ‘round that night.” He sees you open your mouth and keeps going, ignoring you. “I don’t want to hear it. And just so you know, he suggested the invite. So.” 

And then Tommy leaves you with more questions and more soup than you know what to do with.

On Thursday, you drag your sorry ass to the mess hall for the lunch, determined to give Nate another holiday experience. You didn’t need to work yourself up, though, as Joel is nowhere in sight.

You wish you had thought earlier to ask what to bring, but it’s been a long time since you’ve dined at someone else’s table, and food ain’t been for sharing in just as many years.

“What should I bring, if it ain’t traditional?”

He thinks for a moment. He wants to tell you to bring your sexy self and nothin’ more but he knows you won’t go for it. “Bring popcorn,” he says finally.

You had. And you do. Cooked on the stove the old-fashioned way. It’s a risk, god, you know it’s a risk. But you walk into Tommy’s house with a heaping bowl of lightly buttered popcorn.

You walk into Joel’s house with a heaping bowl of butter-laden, salty popcorn, and Sarah cheers. She takes a handful before retreating deeper into the house where Tommy is setting the table and Joel is in the kitchen, hard at work over the… toaster. There’s a stack of buttered toast on a platter beside him and he’s adding to the pile. 

“Hey, sugar,” he says, pulling you by the waist into his space, chasing your lips with a kiss. “Thanks for bringin’ the popcorn. Ain’t Thanksgiving without it.”

“If you say so,” you say. “Where do you want it?”

“On the table is fine,” he says.

It takes you a minute, as you stand in Joel’s dining room, staring at the eccentric assortment of what can loosely be defined as dinner. There are a few bowls out, overflowing not with stuffing or mashed potatoes or casserole. No, there’s little pretzel twists and what looks like candy. You set the popcorn down in an empty spot and it unlocks in your brain with a snap.

You turn on your heel and go back in the kitchen. For a moment, you’re distracted by the scene in front of you. Joel and Sarah are delicately swirling whipped cream in excess atop strawberry ice cream, taking turns squirting some in their mouths in between and then scolding one another playfully.

“Are we having a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving?” you ask.

Sarah beams. “I told you she’d get it,” she tells her dad. 

Joel opens the door at Tommy and Maria’s. He looks down at the bowl in your hands, and you suddenly think you’ve made a terrible mistake. There’s a taut, hefty silence where you’re both just staring at the bowl.

He moves, both hands up toward you in a jerky, sudden motion that has you flinching back. It doesn’t deter him. It was like the action was pressed behind a coil and now that it snapped, he can’t stop. Newton’s Law, and all that.

His rough, calloused palms engulf either side of your face, his chapped lips smashing against your unexpecting ones. Your heart could be halfway to Dallas by sundown with how fast it’s galloping in your chest. It only takes a moment before your hands are on him, too.

“C’mon, not over the popcorn,” Nate gripes, snatching the bowl away and going inside to find Ellie, leaving you in Joel’s embrace.

the end