#one day too late for love day but I love you all! 💕 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misshoneyimhome · 2 days ago

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What's up, buttercups 🌶️

We’re getting so close to the end—and this chapter delivers exactly what many of us have been waiting for. Or at least one very satisfying moment… let’s just say a certain someone finally meets a well-deserved fist 😏 Did someone order an angry!Ice King? Because he’s here, bruised knuckles and all ♥️

No smut this time (sorry, friends), but I hope the drama and emotional tension make up for it 💕 Enjoy!

Tropes & warnings: inexperienced!reader x Auston Matthews, meet cute, strangers to friends, fake relationship, language, angry!Auston

Word count: 7.5k Chapter one ; Chapter two ; Chapter three ; Chapter four ; Chapter five ; Chapter six ; Chapter seven ; Chapter eight ; Chapter nine; Chapter ten; Chapter eleven; Chapter twelve; Chapter thirteen ; Chapter fourteen; Chapter fifteen ; Chapter sixteen

Some who might have interest: @hockeybabe87 @tonyspep @thesecretestblogever @delayed-delusions @kurlyteuvo @emsdevs

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Chapter seventeen: When a Tower Falls, It Falls Hard

“Dearest Toronto reader,

The weekend was soft, wasn’t it?

A Queen in borrowed flannel. A King nursing bruises not from battle, but from the quiet vulnerability of letting someone in. And around them, a family—his family—opening the door without asking questions, as if she’d always belonged there. They cooked together. Laughed. Shared stories. Morning coffee tasted sweeter when sipped between knowing glances.

But fairy tales, as we know, have chapters. And not all of them are tender.

Because just beneath the surface of tamales and spa days, of silk robes and slow kisses, something else began to stir. Truth, perhaps. Or worse—feelings.

She let herself sink into it. He didn’t pull away. And for a heartbeat, the performance became something dangerously close to real.

But this isn’t a love story without consequences.

Now, the Tower moves. Not quietly. Not with strategy. No, his is a game of exposure. Of leverage. And his arrival threatens not only the illusion—but the fragile, unspoken thing taking root beneath it.

The weekend was warm.

But Monday?

Monday, Toronto, comes with teeth.

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer”

Monday -

The alarm buzzed softly against the nightstand, insistent but not unkind; just the kind of sound designed to nudge rather than startle. You groaned, your hand fumbling blindly in the dark for your phone as the screen lit up with the time. Too early. Too cold.

You considered ignoring it, but the day ahead was already ticking into motion. Auston didn’t stir behind you, still warm and heavy, on his back his chest was moving steadily. His breath was slow and warm and for a moment, you didn’t move. Just lay there, tucked under the duvet, memorising the weight of him, the way his leg hooked over yours like he was holding you in place even in sleep.

Then it hit you—the smell of coffee. Rich and full-bodied, curling through the condo like an invitation. You smiled to yourself as you peeled carefully out from under the sheets, easing out of bed with the grace of someone who’d learned to do this without waking the one she didn’t want to leave.

Felix barely twitched at the foot of the bed, lifting his head with a sleepy huff before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort and curling back into his warm little donut of fur. You padded across the floor, tugging Auston’s hoodie over your tank top and pulling yesterday’s jeans on without turning on the light. The hoodie still smelled like him, and you tugged it tighter around your frame as you slipped into the en suite to splash cold water on your face.

The house was still dim, the windows holding back the late November dark, city lights casting long, gold reflections on the floorboards. You followed the scent of coffee into the kitchen, your socked feet quiet on the hardwood, the familiar hum of the fridge and the distant whir of traffic the only soundtrack. At the island, Ema and Brian were already settled in like they belonged there, like they always had. She had one foot tucked under her, a mug steaming in her hand; he was scrolling through his phone, glasses perched low on his nose.

Ema looked up first, her face lighting with that warm, steady glow you were beginning to realise was her default. “Buenos días, corazón,” she greeted, already rising from her stool to pour a third cup. “You want coffee?”

“Please, A bucket would be great,” you said, dragging a hand through your hair. “I’ve got a full day of meetings ahead of me. Might need an IV drip, actually.”

She chuckled, reaching for the milk. “You like just a splash, yes?”

You nodded, settling onto the stool across from Brian. “Just a splash,” you confirmed, wrapping your hands gratefully around the warm mug she handed you a moment later.

“You sleep okay?” she asked, watching you over the rim of her cup.

You smiled softly. “Really well.”

Brian looked up from his phone long enough to offer you a nod. “Hope we didn’t wake you—time zones still messin’ with us.”

“Not at all,” you said. “The coffee got there first.”

Ema beamed. “He always says I make it too strong, but he still drinks two cups.”

Brian chuckled lightly. “I’ve learned not to argue.”

Conversation flowed easily from there. Ema asked about your work week, about the spa day you’d mentioned the night before. Brian made a dry joke about the Leafs needing to spend less time in the box and more time in the offensive zone. You were mid-laugh when footsteps suddenly padded softly into the room, and Auston appeared in all his sleep-rumpled glory—shirtless, in flannel joggers, his curls a tousled mess, eyes still puffy with sleep.

He came over and gently leaned down to kiss your cheek, then your lips—a lazy, unhurried press of warmth that lingered a moment too long for breakfast with the parents, but not long enough to be private. “Mmm. Morning,” he rasped, squinting at the light.

“Morning,” you murmured, smiling despite yourself.

Ema passed him a cup of coffee without asking, and he accepted it with a muttered thank-you, sinking into the stool beside you. His shoulder brushed yours. His knee bumped your thigh once. Then again. Like he couldn’t help the contact. Like his body still hadn’t realised it wasn’t wrapped around yours anymore.

The clock on the oven ticked louder than before. Your day was already creeping up behind you. So, with a soft sigh, you rose and set your empty mug in the sink before turning back toward the hallway.

“I should go. Monday chaos awaits.”

“You’ll come back soon?” Ema asked, hopeful in a way that made your chest tug.

“If you’ll have me,” you replied.

“Always,” she said, no hesitation at all.

You hugged them both, warm and familiar now—a firm squeeze from Brian, a soft, slightly longer embrace from Ema—and then grabbed your bag. Auston followed you to the door, barefoot, his mug still in one hand, the other brushing your back as you zipped up your coat. He leaned against the doorframe as you pulled on your shoes, watching you in that quiet way that made your stomach twist and your heart feel too close to the surface.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked, low.

You shook your head. “I’ve got a train coming.”

He nodded but didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a beat. Then he turned, rummaged through the bowl on the console table, and handed you a protein bar.

“Here,” he said, pushing it into your hand. “In case you forget to eat again.”

You arched a brow. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, but a smile curled at the corners of his mouth. “It’s peanut butter, your favourite.”

“You remember that?”

He shrugged, then simply looked at you. “Of course I do.”

Something caught between you just then—a pause, a breath, a feeling too big for the moment. You waited, wondering if he’d say something else. But he didn’t. He just stepped forward and brushed his thumb across your jaw, kissed your temple softly, and murmured, “Have a good day, boss. Text me?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

And then he watched you walk away, his hand still resting on the doorframe long after it had closed.

However, back inside, Ema was clearing dishes, and she didn’t even turn around when Auston entered the kitchen again - but she didn’t need to.

“You haven’t made it official yet?” she asked, voice light but pointed.

He gave a half-smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Think the media already did it for us.”

Ema glanced over her shoulder, one brow raised. “That’s not what I meant, mijo.”

He sighed, dropping into a stool. “I know.”

She turned then, drying her hands slowly. “You like her. Why are you waiting?”

But Auston just looked down at his mug, spinning it gently between his palms. “It’s complicated.”

“Is it?” she asked softly. “Because it doesn’t look complicated.”

He hesitated, guilt tightening his throat. “We just… need a bit more time. She’s amazing, and yes, I like her… but… we’re still just seeing where it’s all going.”

“You mean, none of you have said the words,” she said gently.

He didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Not right away.

But then Ema moved closer, rested a hand on his arm. “Remember when you were six, and you tried to do that school play? You were so nervous about getting the lines wrong that you almost didn’t show up. But you did. And when you walked out on stage, I saw it—the second you saw the lights, heard the applause—you forgot you were acting. You became the part.”

He looked up at her then.

“Don’t let this be like that,” she said. “Don’t let fear keep you from showing up for the role that’s already yours.”

Auston didn’t speak. Just looked back toward the door, where you’d stood moments ago. And in that quiet pause, something inside him shifted.

He still didn’t know how to tell them the truth about you. About the deal. But he knew this—he didn’t want to let you go.

Not now. Not like this. _

You didn’t go straight to the office.

Instead, you managed to make a pit stop at your apartment—a new skill you’d obtained. It was simply a rare moment to catch your breath, swap yesterday’s mascara for something fresh, and reassemble the version of yourself the world expected to see. You stood in the mirror for a long beat, adjusting your blouse, smoothing your hair, fixing the faint smudge of lipstick clinging to your top lip. Your eyes were a little too tired, your thoughts a little too loud, but you whispered something under your breath anyway.

“You’ve got this.”

You weren’t entirely sure you believed it. But belief wasn’t necessary. Conviction was.

The office was already buzzing when you arrived, a low hum of phones ringing, keys clacking, voices overlapping in bursts of caffeinated energy. You slipped into the rhythm like usual, nodding greetings, keeping your pace brisk. But the moment you turned the corner into the breakroom, your steps faltered.

Chase was there.

Leaning casually against the counter like he had nothing better to do than sip his overpriced cold brew and lurk. His smile tightened when he saw you, predatory and smug.

“Good morning,” he said, far too brightly. “Got a second?”

You didn’t answer at first. Just walked past him to the fridge, pulling out your yoghurt with careful disinterest. “Bit busy. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much,” he replied, still smiling. “Just thought I’d congratulate you. Great weekend. Cute photos. You and Matthews… looked pretty into it.”

Your spine stiffened, but your face didn’t flinch. You turned slowly, lifting your spoon with a slight shrug. “Well, you know the internet—loves a good love story.”

“Sure,” he said. “But I don’t think this one ends with a ring, does it?”

Silence cracked through your chest like ice.

Chase tilted his head, watching you closely now. “Look, I get it. Big fish. Big name. Can’t blame you for milking it. But let’s not pretend you’re not playing the long game. This whole PR stunt? It’s smart. Ballsy, even.”

You forced a laugh. “Not this again Chase.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, low now, the performance gone. “You think I didn’t notice how fast things moved? From mystery plus-one at the gala to public girlfriend overnight? You think the timing of that announcement was a coincidence?”

The word gala hit like a slap. You blinked, and for a split second, you were back there—standing in too-high heels, pulse hammering in your ears as Auston slid an arm around your waist for the first time. His lips brushing your temple. The camera flashes. The pact you made.

It had been harmless then. Strategic. Mutually beneficial.

Now it was something else entirely—and Chase had seen it.

“I don’t know what you think you know,” you said, voice tight. “But it’s not your business.”

“Oh, but it is,” he countered, stepping closer, his smile slipping into something nastier. “See, I work in media. Reputation is currency. And if someone’s faking a relationship with a franchise player to climb the ladder? That’s juicy. That’s career-ending.”

You stared at him, heart racing, trying to calculate the best move. He wasn’t bluffing. Not entirely.

“You want to expose me?” you asked quietly.

Chase laughed. “Expose you? No. That’d be a waste. I’m not here to ruin you, sweetheart. I’m here to… collaborate.”

You felt your stomach twist.

“I want access,” he continued. “Contacts. Introductions. Maybe a heads-up when you’ve got a scoop. You’re close to the team now, right? Matthews, Nylander, Marner. Hell, I’d settle for Knies.”

You swallowed hard. “You want me to feed you stories.”

“I want you to return the favour,” he said simply. “I keep your little secret, you make sure I stay in the loop. Easy. Win-win.”

You were quiet for a long moment. The yoghurt in your hand was still unopened, but your appetite was gone.

“I need time to think,” you said finally.

He stepped back with a satisfied smile, like he’d already won. “Of course. Just don’t take too long. Stories have a shelf life.”

And then he tossed his cup in the bin and strolled out like it had been any other casual conversation, like he hadn’t just set a bomb ticking under your desk.

You sat down heavily at the breakroom table, breath catching in your throat, fingers trembling just slightly.

What had started as a fake relationship to buy you a little breathing room had turned into something dangerously real—and now it was a liability. You closed your eyes for a second, hand tightening around the cold edge of the yoghurt cup.

You tried to focus, to make your way to your desk. But the nausea came fast, a wave rising from the pit of your stomach that made it hard to breathe, hard to think. The hallway swayed imperceptibly beneath your feet, not with motion but with the crushing weight of something undeniable settling into your bones. You reached for the wall without thinking, bracing your palm against it, your forehead leaning lightly into your knuckles like it might anchor you—like anything could.

Because the worst part wasn’t what Chase had said. It was that he wasn’t wrong.

Not completely.

You had gained something from all of this. You’d borrowed Auston’s name, his presence, the silent power that came from being seen at his side—and it had worked. Doors opened. Faces softened. Respect came faster, trust followed without question. You hadn’t planned on it, not exactly. But it had happened. You’d taken the deal and let it grow teeth.

And yet—none of that was what made your throat close now. None of it was what sent heat crawling up the back of your neck in something that felt suspiciously like shame.

Because what you wanted to protect wasn’t your job or your reputation anymore. It was him.

It was Auston. His steady hand at the small of your back. The way he said your name like it meant something more. The quiet way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention—like you were already part of whatever future he hadn’t dared to say aloud.

You closed your eyes and let the moment stretch. Breathe in. Breathe out. Fail.

How had you let this become so tangled?

And then, like a name whispered at the wrong moment in a dream—Jess.

Her absence had been quieter than Chase’s voice, but sharper. Colder. The guilt of it pressed against your chest like a bruise from the inside out. Because if Auston had become your secret, Jess had been your soul. The one who knew the shape of your heart even when you didn’t.

And you’d lied to her.

Not just by omission. You’d pushed her out. For what? A strategy? A false front? A story you no longer recognised but couldn’t seem to stop telling?

You didn’t even know what you were defending anymore. Your pride? Your career?

Your fingers moved numbly as you reached for your phone, the weight of it suddenly disproportionate in your hand. You stared at the screen for longer than made sense, your thumb hovering, waiting for clarity that never came.

What could you say?

That you were sorry? That it had started as a trick and turned into something real before you knew how to stop it? That every line you’d drawn had blurred until there was no performance left—only him, and the way he made you feel?

Eventually, your fingers moved of their own accord.

You: Can we talk? Please. After work. I want to tell you everything.

You slipped the phone back into your pocket with fingers that didn’t feel quite like yours, your pulse still stuttering in your throat. The hallway felt brighter now. Too bright. Like someone had turned the contrast up on a photo and left you exposed.

You pushed away from the wall and started walking. Slowly. Deliberately. Every step an attempt to reclaim control of a story that had long since slipped from your grasp.

And then—your phone buzzed.

Jess: We can meet after work.

A pause. Then another buzz.

Jess: Usual spot. Don’t be late.

Your lungs unlocked. Not quite relief. But something close. Something like hope wrapped in tension.

The café was dimly lit, the way it always was in the early evening—a soft hum of amber light catching in the glassware and casting long shadows across the tiled floor. You’d chosen a booth in the back, your favourite, the one that felt like a corner tucked away from the rest of the world. You sat there with your hands wrapped around a too-hot mug, the tea inside untouched, barely registering the steam curling against your fingers.

The door jingled. You looked up.

Jess.

She scanned the café quickly, eyes catching on you almost instantly. There was no smile, no wave—just a silent, steady walk toward the booth. When she slid into the seat across from you, you saw the tension in her shoulders, the press of her lips. But she’d come. That counted for something.

"Hey," you said softly.

Jess didn’t answer right away. She shrugged out of her coat, laid it beside her, and looked at you with a tired sort of clarity. "Alright. Talk."

So you did.

You started with the gala—the coincidence of the moment Auston had pulled you in, the camera flashes, the heat of it all. You walked her through the pact, the reasons, the opportunities it offered. How convenient it had been, how harmless it had seemed. She said nothing as you spoke, just listened, her hands folded on the table like she was holding something back.

Then you got to the rest.

How it changed. The sex. The interviews. The photos. The games. The nights. The moment it all tipped over the edge into something else.

"We didn’t plan for that," you admitted. "We were just trying to get through it. But things kept… happening. And then one day I woke up and I wasn’t sure what was really going on anymore."

Jess exhaled slowly, like she’d been holding her breath. "And you didn’t think to tell me."

"I didn’t know how," you said, voice low. "I guess… I was embarrassed. That I’d agreed to it. With someone like… him,” you let out a deep breath. “And then… it all just got so complicated. Like… it stopped being a strategy and started being… a feeling, and I didn’t know where the line was anymore. I still don’t."

She looked at you then, really looked—eyes scanning your face like she was trying to measure the truth of you. "You should’ve trusted me."

You nodded. "I know."

For a long moment, there was just the clink of mugs behind the counter, the low murmur of another conversation drifting from across the café. Jess’s fingers tapped once against the wood of the table.

“You like him?”

The question came quiet—no edge, no judgement. Just real.

You hesitated, the words teetering, then landing soft as breath. “I think I might.”

Jess leaned back, arms folding across her chest. Her face didn’t give much away, but her voice stayed steady. “You’re lucky I’m not the kind of person who runs to the WAGs with this.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

She rolled her eyes, lips tugging into a smirk. “Please. I’d rather watch you squirm.”

A laugh slipped out, small and surprised, catching in your throat like something unfastened. Relief came with it. The kind that wrapped around your ribs and let you breathe again.

Jess sipped from her drink, eyes skimming the rim. “Alright. I’ll keep your secret. But I’ll also say this—whatever it started as, it doesn’t look fake anymore. Not to me. Not to anyone with eyes and more than two brain cells who’s seen the way he looks at you.”

Your brows lifted. “He does?”

“Like he’d fight God and lose just to keep you.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was something else. Gentle. Rebuilding.

Jess reached across the table and nudged your mug with a finger. “Your tea’s cold.”

“I know.”

“Order another. I’m not done being mad yet. And I want details—every last bit of how this man somehow got you to take your guard down and let yourself actually feel something. Honestly, I’m a little impressed.”

You smiled. And this time, it reached your eyes.

“Wow, Auston Matthews, impressing you?”

“Oh shut it, just because I’m not Maya who’s secretly always been crushing on him,” Jess laughed, rolling her eyes.

You instinctively laughed along, but something about the comment caught in your chest for half a second—strange and fleeting. Still, you headed to the counter to order another tea, the warmth of your friendship wrapping around the sharp edges of the evening.

Your phone buzzed sometime after nine, just as you were settling into the quiet hum of the evening. The name on the screen made your stomach flip, bile rising like instinct.

Fucktard (Chase): VIP for tomorrow’s game? You can make that happen, right.

No question mark. No “please.” Just that same smug entitlement, confident you’d roll over.

You stared at the message, thumb hovering, pulse spiking. For a long beat, you didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. The audacity of it—after everything—made your fingers tighten around the phone.

You thought about playing along. Thought about forwarding his name, keeping the peace, staying small. But the very idea curdled in your chest. No more bending. No more owing.

So you opened a new message. Short. Final.

You: No.

And then you hit send. No explanation. No soft landing.

Just the truth, sharp and overdue.

The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful—but it was yours. And this time, you weren’t playing anyone’s game but your own.

“Well, well, Toronto.

We do love a picture-perfect morning.

The Queen rose early. The King kissed her like no one was watching—even though his mother was. And wasn’t that the sweetest part? A kitchen full of quiet approvals, of strong coffee and stronger implications. Even the King’s mother saw it: the way he looked at her. The way he didn’t look away.

But fairytales are fragile, aren’t they?

Because outside that sunlit house, the Tower is stirring. Not fallen yet, but leaning, loud, and laced with jealousy. And at the office—well, the shadows stretch longer under fluorescent lights. Deals unravel. Smiles crack. And someone who knows too much has started asking for favours.

They say pressure makes diamonds. But it also reveals cracks.

So sip your lattes. Play nice. Smile through the tension.

But know this, Toronto: a story built on performance can only hold for so long before the truth takes the stage. - The Benchwarmer.”

Tuesday -

The Scotiabank Arena pulsed with energy before you’d even stepped through security.

The hallway outside the lounge hummed with quiet anticipation, the kind unique to Scotiabank on a game night. You and Jess moved together through the controlled chaos—team staff weaving in and out of secured doors, kids darting past in miniature jerseys, someone’s laughter echoing from down the corridor. Jess walked beside you with her hands deep in her coat pockets, her mouth set in a neutral line that gave little away, but her eyes flicked around, observant as ever.

“Okay,” you said under your breath as you reached the door. “They’re not as terrifying as they seem. Just lean into the banter. They’ll love you.”

Jess raised one brow. “As long as none of them quiz me on power play strategy, I’ll survive.”

Inside, the lounge was warm and plush, all soft lighting and luxury finishes, screens broadcasting pre-game commentary in every direction. The partners were already gathered—Stephanie perched like a queen with her heels tucked under a velvet loveseat, Tessa with her child in hand, Sanna adjusting her baby’s blanket in a carrier.

As soon as they spotted you, Estelle’s face lit up. “Look who finally remembered us!”

You rolled your eyes with affection. “Had to bring backup. Hope that’s allowed.”

All heads turned toward Jess, who gave a smooth, cool smile and a polite wave.

“This is Jess,” you said. “She’s… family.”

That earned a chorus of approving noises. Arynne made a little hmm of intrigue and scooted over to make space beside her.

“Well, family is our favourite kind of guest,” she said. “Come sit. Tell us everything about her. Embarrassing stories preferred.”

“She’s not a puppy,” Tessa said, though her grin betrayed zero commitment to that defence. “But yeah—how do you two know each other?”

Jess took the offered seat, crossing her legs with ease. “She and I survived everything together. Study sessions. Terrible wine. One regrettable karaoke night.”

“She still does karaoke,” you muttered into your cup, and Jess elbowed you lightly.

It was smoother than you’d expected—Jess navigating the group with a sharp wit and dry charm that clearly won them over. Sanna offered her a snack from the spread, Tessa asked for her opinion on a bridesmaid dress, and before you knew it, Jess was throwing out chirps about penalties like she’d been there all season.

But the real test came when Auston’s family arrived.

You stood to greet them—Ema radiant in a smart jacket, Brian offering a polite smile, Alexandria and Breyana buzzing with quiet energy as they entered the suite. Jess rose with you, immediately more cautious, but grounded.

“Ema, this is Jess—my best friend,” you said. “Jess, this is Auston’s mum, his dad Brian, and his sisters, Alex and Bree.”

Ema’s warmth extended instantly, a hand offered, eyes soft. “So nice to meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jess, to her credit, didn’t miss a beat. “Good things, I hope.”

Ema gave a little laugh. “Of course. And if not, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear.”

You caught the way Auston’s sisters eyed Jess with a mix of curiosity and quiet approval. It wasn’t the same kind of probing the WAGs did—it was gentler, but somehow more weighty.

And as the puck dropped, the room quieted, the tension of game night settling in like static in the air. The first period was all adrenaline—fast, physical, high-stakes. The Utah Hockey Club came in hard, with tight forechecking and more hits than necessary. Auston took a solid check against the boards in the second, sending a flicker of panic through your chest, but he was back on his skates fast, jaw set, eyes sharper than before.

Jess leaned in. “You okay?”

You nodded, forcing a breath. “Just not great at watching him get knocked around.”

“You and me both,” Ema said softly beside you.

The third period had your heart in your throat—Woll let one in with just under five minutes left, and you thought the tension might snap you in half. But then, in the final minute, with the crowd on their feet and the suite collectively holding its breath, Järnkrok made a surgical pass to Lorentz who tucked it home with barely a second to spare.

The arena erupted.

Jess turned to you, both of you breathless and wide-eyed, and for a second it felt like something realigned in the noise—the weight of Auston’s family around you, the families cheering, Jess at your side.

You weren’t sure if it was safety you felt… but no matter what, it felt good.

The tunnel beneath Scotiabank Arena buzzed with subdued energy—a stark contrast to the roaring crowd above. Fluorescent lights cast a sterile glow on the concrete walls, flickering slightly as if the building itself was catching its breath. The scent of sweat, rubber, and melted ice lingered in the air, sharp and familiar. Trainers and security staff moved with quiet urgency, voices low, radios crackling. You stood just beyond the locker room doors, your hands clenched at your sides, heart thudding a steady, anxious rhythm against your ribs.

Then you heard the footsteps.

Auston emerged, still in partial gear, his jersey hanging loose, shoulder pads framing him like armour left too long in battle. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and a towel draped loosely around his neck, catching the faint sheen of sweat on his skin. Bruises bloomed dark along his jawline, and a shallow cut sat just below his cheekbone, still flushed pink with blood the trainers hadn’t gotten to yet. But his eyes—tired, glassy, wide—lit up the moment they found yours.

He didn’t say a word. Neither did you.

You simply closed the distance like gravity demanded it, arms sliding around his torso carefully. His body was still warm from exertion, muscles twitching beneath your touch. He winced slightly, but his arms came around you just the same, one hand curling behind your neck, the other settling at your waist.

Your lips found his first. The kiss wasn’t showy or sweet. It was breathless. Almost desperate. A long, slow exhale of everything you hadn’t been able to say during the game.

“You scared me out there,” you whispered against his mouth, the words barely audible over the hum of the distant locker room chatter.

“I’m okay,” he murmured, lips brushing the corner of yours as he leaned in again. His thumb moved in slow, unconscious circles against your hip. “I promise.”

But then a soft cough cut through the moment, too pointed to be accidental. And you both turned.

Jess stood a few feet away, arms crossed over her chest, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her lipstick was still perfect, her expression perfectly neutral—but her eyes flicked between the two of you with surgical precision.

“Well, if that wasn’t a scene straight out of a romance novel,” she teased, voice dry as dust.

Auston didn’t drop his arm. He just smiled slightly, the kind that only deepened the bruise blooming along his cheek. “We’ve had practice.”

Jess cocked her head, parroting the word back with just enough sarcasm to sting. “Right… practice.”

Before either of you could respond, a voice echoed from farther down the tunnel—your name, urgent and echoing off concrete.

You glanced toward it, then back at them, laughing softly as you stepped away. “I think I need to check something with security. Be right back.” You looked at Jess. “Please don’t kill each other.”

Auston gave your waist a final squeeze before letting go, your fingers brushing briefly as you turned and disappeared down the corridor, the sound of your heels tapping against the floor slowly fading.

Once you were gone, silence fell like a dropped curtain.

Jess shifted her weight and studied Auston for a long moment, the way one might study a complicated equation—one that had no clean answer, only implications.

“So,” she said flatly.

Auston’s jaw twitched. “So.”

Jess sighed and finally dropped her arms, letting them hang at her sides. Her tone didn’t soften. But it didn’t harden either. “You’re not stupid. So I’m not going to treat you like you are.”

Auston didn’t move. Just stood there in the flickering half-light of the tunnel, still bleeding slightly and looking like a man halfway between confession and collapse. He scrubbed a hand over his face, over the wet ends of his hair, then let it fall.

“That’s a relief,” he muttered.

Jess folded her lips in tightly, then opened them again. “Listen, I don’t care what kind of deal you two had in the beginning. Whatever fake setup, mutual agreement, whatever—it doesn’t matter anymore.” Her voice dropped. “What matters is that she’s in it now. Whether or not she meant to be.”

Auston’s face shifted, something flickering behind his eyes—guilt, maybe. Or maybe just the weight of knowing someone else had seen it, too.

Jess stepped closer. “She might walk around like she’s invincible, like she’s bulletproof. But she’s not. She’s vulnerable when it comes to you. And if you let her believe this is something it’s not—if you let her fall any further without catching her—you will break her.”

Auston shook his head slowly. “I didn’t plan on this.”

“Yeah,” Jess said. “You keep saying that. Doesn’t make it any better.”

“It’s not an excuse,” he said, quieter now. “It’s just the truth. I didn’t see it coming. She got under my skin. She still does.” He paused, voice dropping to a near whisper. “She’s got more of me than she knows.”

Jess blinked at that. Her mouth parted slightly, like she hadn’t expected the honesty—hadn’t been prepared for the softness behind it.

And for a beat, she didn’t say anything, before she nodded. Once. Measured.

“Good,” she said. “Then act like it. Because if you hurt her—really hurt her—I don’t care how big of a hockey star you are.”

Auston gave the faintest smile, something tired and a little bruised around the edges. “Fair enough.”

“And don’t get cocky,” Jess added as she turned, already hearing your return down the hall. “I still haven’t approved of you.”

He laughed—just a breath. “Noted.”

Then you reappeared, cheeks pink from the brisk walk, eyes bouncing between them like you’d missed something.

“Everything alright?” you asked lightly, stepping back to Auston’s side.

Jess glanced at you, then at Auston. “Peachy.”

Auston’s hand found yours again without needing to look. “All good.”

Moments later, voices echoed from the far end of the tunnel—Ema, Brian, and the girls approaching in a bubble of post-win warmth and teasing laughter.

But in the space between just the three of you, something had shifted.

And Jess, for all her sharp edges, let it go.

—for now.

The hallway continued to buzz with end-of-game energy. Families chatted in clusters, partners lingered with half-empty cups. Players trickled out in waves of damp hair and aftershave, trading sticks for duffel bags, tension for relief. In his post shower outfit Auston stood near you, one arm loosely around your waist, his body relaxed but his gaze still sharp, watchful. Jess hovered nearby, chatting lightly with Breyana.

Then—like a shadow cutting across stage lights—he appeared.

Chase.

He strolled in with the entitled ease of someone who’d never been told no. His coat hung open, his tie loosened, and the gleam in his eyes was all theatre. Smug. Performed. Calculated. You saw it before he even opened his mouth.

"Well, well," he said, voice pitched to carry, his gaze sweeping over the gathering before settling squarely on you. "If it isn’t the queen of Scotiabank."

You stiffened. Auston’s grip subtly tightened.

"Chase," you said, cool and measured. “I told them not to let him in here…” you whispered to Auston.

"No need to sound so cold," he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "I’m just here to congratulate you. Public image, social sway, upgraded press pass—and all it took was one well-timed romance with a franchise face."

A few heads turned. The room, once murmuring, began to still.

"You should leave," Auston said, voice low but firm.

But Chase simply offered him a stern expression. "Oh come on, Matthews. Let’s not pretend. Everyone here loves a good story. All I’m doing is pulling back the curtain."

Ema turned from where she’d been speaking to Tessa. Brian took a slow step forward. You could feel Jess shifting beside you.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," you said, keeping your voice even.

"Don’t I?" he laughed, wide and theatrical. "You really think no one would notice? The timing, the coverage, the way your entire narrative shifted overnight? It’s been a masterclass in manipulation."

The air grew heavier.

"You should walk away now," Auston said again, his tone colder.

Chase turned to face him again, a smirk twitching at his mouth. "Or what?"

"Or well have you removed. Before you say something you’ll regret."

“Regret?” Chase chuckled darkly, eyebrows raised. “Oh no, I think regret belongs to the one using a guy like you as a stepping stone. And the idiot who let her.”

The words hit like a slap to the chest.

Auston’s jaw flexed, his shoulders squaring as the heat rose behind his eyes. His fingers curled slowly at his sides, knuckles whitening with restraint.

Chase didn’t stop. He never knew when to stop.

“She’s good, I’ll give her that. Played the long game. PR stunts, locker room charm, now she’s got her name in every article next to yours. Bet she’s already drafting the memoir.”

Someone behind you gasped.

Auston took a step forward.

“You don’t know a fucking thing about her,” he said, voice low, vibrating with control that was about to snap.

“I know opportunists when I see one,” Chase sneered. “And I know when a man’s being played—”

Another step.

“And you? Matthews? You’re not a star. You’re just a headline. A trophy in her career highlight reel. A real good fuck. And when she’s done with you—”

Auston moved.

And then his fist connected with Chase’s jaw.

The sound��flesh against bone—was sickening. Sharp. Final.

Gasps erupted. Jess shouted something. Estelle yelped. Someone dropped their drink. Chase stumbled backward, hand at his face, eyes wide in disbelief.

Security was there in an instant, pushing through the crowd, separating them. Auston’s chest heaved, his hand already reddening. You were frozen, breath caught somewhere between your ribs.

"Back it up," one of the guards barked, pushing Chase toward the exit.

"She used you!" Chase yelled, spitting blood, pointing in your direction. "And you’re too fucking dumb to see it."

"Get him out," Tavares snapped.

Security dragged Chase back, his curses trailing like smoke.

And then… Silence.

Dozens of eyes were on you and Auston. The bruised tension in the air thick enough to choke on.

The hallway rang with echoes. The kind of energy that lingered after a blow had been thrown—a charge in the air that didn’t know how to settle.

Auston stood at the centre of it, shoulders tight, chest still rising and falling fast. His hand—the one that had made contact with Chase’s jaw—was clenched at his side, already beginning to swell.

You moved without thinking. He saw you coming, but didn’t say anything. Just let your hand slide gently over his wrist and lift his fist to the light.

His knuckles were red, bruised, beginning to purple at the edge.

You cradled it like something sacred.

“Thanks for punching him,” you whispered, voice low.

Auston huffed out a breath that might’ve been a laugh. Or maybe it was disbelief. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No,” you said. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” he smiled softly.

Jess came up beside you, sharp-eyed and still riding the adrenaline. Her gaze swept over the two of you, then landed on his hand.

“Hope you hadn’t practiced that part,” she sai with a light chuckle.

Neither of you answered. Just smiled and nodded in agreement.

People began to move again, slowly, like the spell was breaking. The players filtered out one by one—some glancing your way with lifted brows or subtle nods. Mitch offered a tight-lipped smile. John gave Auston a look that said more than words, then touched your arm lightly in passing.

The partners drifted by, whispering behind their hands. Someone clapped Jess on the shoulder. A trainer passed with ice packs. The moment resumed its momentum, the tension dissolving into the noise of normalcy.

Then Auston’s family came over.

Alex was first, sweeping in with a mock scandalised gasp. “God, you really decked him, huh?”

Auston gave her a tired look. “Not really the moment, Alex.”

She just grinned. “Whatever. He deserved it.”

Brian was more measured, standing back with a furrowed brow, while Bree hovered at his side with wide, curious eyes. But it was Ema who moved forward, her face drawn with concern.

She took Auston’s hand from yours and inspected it with a soft touch, shaking her head.

“Oh, Auston,” she murmured. “What were you thinking?”

He didn’t answer.

She looked up at him, and something passed between them—something private and maternal.

And Auston’s eyes flicked to you. But he didn’t look away.

Within a few more minutes the arena had quieted to a hush that didn’t belong to victory. Most of the families had left, the players slipping into black cars and private exits, the overhead fluorescents humming in their place.

After saying goodbye to Auston and leaving him with his family, you walked with Jess down the long corridor toward the loading dock, the echo of your footsteps softened by the weight of everything left unsaid.

She didn’t speak at first, just walked beside you, hands in her coat pockets, eyes forward like she was watching the ending play out in her head.

At the far end of the hall, just before the double doors that led to the private exit, she slowed—then stopped completely. You followed her lead, unsure of what she was going to say.

Then Jess turned to you, her voice low and clear. “You’re in love with him.”

You blinked, your lips parting to deny it, to say something—anything—but nothing came.

She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing like she could see all the truths you hadn’t spoken. “And he’s in love with you. You’re both just too scared to say it.”

The words hit gently. Not an accusation. Just a mirror.

You didn’t argue. Couldn’t. You just looked at her, breath catching in your throat, and gave the smallest of nods.

Jess let out a slow exhale, then bumped her shoulder into yours. “Took you long enough.”

You both stepped through the exit doors into the cold night air, your breath fogging faintly in front of you. The car park was mostly empty—security lights buzzing overhead, a few staffers chatting quietly near the gates.

You glanced back one last time, eyes sweeping the corridor behind you.

But Auston was gone.

And somehow, that hurt more than you’d expected.

Jess touched your arm. “Come on. I’ll drive.”

You nodded, following her toward the car, the night pressing close around you, heavy with everything that hadn’t yet been said. _

The city outside your window was quiet, the glow of streetlights bleeding softly into your room. Your body still hummed with leftover adrenaline, your mind replaying every sharp word, every look, every blow. But more than that, it replayed him—Auston, standing between you and Chase, fists clenched, eyes dark.

You reached for your phone without thinking.

You: hope you’re doing ok

Auston: Yeah just chilling with the fam

You stared at the message for a moment, thumb hovering, heart stubborn. And then—

You: Thanks again for punching Chase

There was a beat of silence.

Auston: My pleasure ;) he had it coming

You smiled, the curve of it small but real. And somehow, that made your chest ache even more.

You: Still. Thank you. Wouldn’t have been as hard if I’d done it myself ;)

The typing bubble blinked back almost instantly.

Auston: Don’t worry about it ;) I’ve got you, boss. I always do. Good night and sweet dreams

You sat with the weight of those words for a long time, the quiet thrum of them echoing in your chest.

You didn’t reply.

But your fingers brushed the screen like they could reach him through it. And in that moment, you let yourself believe it.

That maybe—just maybe—he really felt it too.

“Dearest Toronto readers,

Well, the Tower fell. Loudly. Messily. Just as we knew it would.

But the Queen? She didn’t flinch. She didn’t falter. She stood tall—chin lifted, eyes steady—as the rubble settled around her.

There were accusations, oh yes—sharp, public, and just close enough to the truth to sting. Whispers we’ve all heard before… only now, they rang a little louder. A little clearer.

And yet—when the moment came, the King did not hesitate. He stepped forward and defended her. Not with words alone, but with something far older. Something instinctual.

A fist.

So was it all pretend, then? Or has the performance become something more?

Hard to say. But I’ve been watching the way he looks at her. And that doesn’t look like fiction.

So what’s next, Toronto?

Checkmate again black or white?

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer.”

#The Benchwarmer #inexperienced!reader x Auston #auston matthews fanfic #Toronto maple leafs fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl romance #nhl imagines

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hy6erion · 19 hours ago

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Could I possibly request a Viktor with fem or gn reader where the reader is just hopelessly pinning? Like in the I don't dare get closer or say anything just stare so much and practically melt in your gaze that it's quite obvious kinda way? And maybe how Viktor would react to such? If it's okay and interests you at all

(I'm head over heels for both your writing and him 💗💖💕)

All the quiet Things — Viktor

synopsis: you’ve always admired Viktor from afar—quietly, constantly, helplessly. you thought you were doing a good job of hiding it. you weren’t.

cw: gn! Reader

You tell yourself it’s just admiration.

That’s what it started as. It had to start as admiration. The way he walks into a room—not with arrogance, but with purpose. The way his mind spills brilliance even in passing remarks, in sketches left behind on napkins or blackboard corners. The way his accent wraps around syllables like he’s crafting something delicate, even when he’s muttering under his breath at something that won’t work.

You admire him. That’s all.

That’s all it was supposed to be.

But somewhere between borrowed textbooks, late nights in the lab, and watching the way the lamp light limned his cheekbones while he scribbled diagrams, admiration turned into something else. Something tender. Something impossible.

Something foolish.

It’s not love, you tell yourself. Not really. Because love is mutual, and you’ve never even spoken to him beyond “Good morning,” or “Do you need the third oscillator?” You haven’t dared to get closer, not when being near him sets off something too warm in your chest, something too vast to be safe.

And besides—he’s Viktor. Brilliant, preoccupied Viktor. He probably doesn’t even know your name.

But that doesn’t stop you from looking.

From watching him across the lab with a helpless sort of reverence, like he’s the sun and you’re just a dust mote caught in his light. Every glance in his direction feels like treason—like you’re indulging in something you shouldn’t. And yet, you can’t stop. Can’t help the way your eyes find him, over and over, unbidden.

It’s pathetic.

You melt when he speaks. You practically forget how to think when he smiles—rare, fleeting things, but you hoard them like relics in your memory. There was one time—one time—when you’d said something in passing and he laughed, sharp and sudden and so warm it had felt like the world tipped on its axis.

You remember the exact cadence of it. You could probably recreate the waveform if someone asked.

And maybe—maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if it didn’t feel obvious. Because it is. You can feel how obvious you are, the way your gaze lingers too long, how you stammer a little when he gets too close. The way your breath hitches when he looks at you directly, even if it’s only to ask you to pass him a spanner.

You hope he doesn’t notice. You pray he never does.

And you dread the day he might.

Viktor is not blind.

He is, however, busy. Very busy.

Between Hextech advancements, Council meetings, and the minor nuisance of his deteriorating health, he doesn’t have much time for social intricacies. Doesn’t usually want to make time.

But you are… distracting.

Not in the way others might be. Not loud. Not flirtatious. In fact, you barely speak to him. Always polite. Always helpful. A presence more than a person, half the time.

At first, he didn’t think anything of it. He noticed you, of course. He notices most things—though Jayce might argue otherwise—but you were just one of the junior researchers in the lab. Quiet. Efficient. Thorough in your work. An extra pair of hands when he needed something precise.

But lately…

Lately he’s been noticing more.

Like the way your eyes lift when he enters a room, instinctive and immediate. The way your attention seems to orbit him even when you’re not directly interacting with him. The way your breath catches—he hears it, even if you think it’s subtle—when he leans a little too close to correct something in your notes.

The way you look at him when you think he isn’t looking back.

At first he thought it was just curiosity. Admiration, maybe. He’s no stranger to that, though he doesn’t invite it. But admiration doesn’t usually come with such softness. Such aching stillness.

There’s something about your gaze that lingers.

It makes him pause. It makes him wonder.

One evening, the lab is quiet. The others have gone home. You’ve stayed behind to help clean up after another long test run—Viktor’s design worked, but only barely. He’s exhausted. You look it too, though you’re still carefully organizing spare parts and sorting instruments.

“Go home” he says, gently. “You’ve done enough.”

“I don’t mind” you murmur, not looking up.

But he watches you, this time. Really watches you. The way your fingers tremble slightly when you tuck a tool into its drawer. The way you keep your back turned.

“Can I ask you something?” he says suddenly.

You freeze.

Your mind goes blank. Every possible scenario begins to spin at once. He knows. He’s going to ask why you stare. He’s going to confront you, and it will be awful.

“…Of course,” you manage, after a long pause. You turn, reluctantly, and meet his eyes.

He’s sitting, his cane resting against the worktable, his face calm but studying you.

“Why do you look at me like that?”

Your heart stops.

“I—I don’t know what you mean” you say quickly, lying badly.

His head tilts. “I think you do.”

You want the floor to open. Swallow you whole. Evaporate you into a mist of shame and mortification. But you can’t look away.

“Have I made you uncomfortable?” he asks suddenly, brow furrowing.

That makes you flinch. “No! No. Never. I just—” Your voice breaks.

He’s silent for a moment. Thinking.

“Is it my fault?” he asks, gentler now.

You shake your head, unable to breathe. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I just—I’m sorry. I know I stare. I don’t mean to. It’s not… It’s not your problem.”

He watches you a moment longer, then exhales quietly.

“I don’t mind” he says.

You blink.

“I had wondered” he continues, “whether you disliked me. You avoid me, sometimes. Or at least, avoid being near.”

“I avoid you because I—” You bite your lip, hard. The truth is right there, too large to swallow anymore.

Viktor is quiet. His expression unreadable. But he doesn’t look away.

And that, somehow, gives you just enough courage to whisper, “Because I like you. Too much. And I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

The silence stretches like a thread, taut and aching.

Finally, softly, Viktor says, “You are not a bother.”

You blink, heart hammering.

“I am not always… quick, with things like this,” he admits. “But I have noticed. And I have wondered.”

Your breath stutters. “You…?”

He offers the faintest smile. “You are rather obvious.”

Your cheeks burn.

“But not in a bad way,” he adds quickly. “It’s… flattering. Disarming, even. No one has looked at me quite like that before.”

“You make it hard not to,” you say before you can stop yourself.

He laughs, low and warm.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you. The quiet hum of the lab. The electric buzz of truths finally spoken. And Viktor, looking at you with something newly tender in his gaze.

“Would you stay a little longer?” he asks.

You nod. You would stay forever if he asked.

And so you sit beside him in the dim light of the lab, not touching, not needing to—yet something has shifted, undeniable and true. Not everything has to be spoken aloud. But some things, finally, can be seen.

And you let yourself be seen.

#✰⍣ 𝐡𝐲𝟔𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 #arcane x reader #x reader #arcane #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x gn! reader #arcane x gn reader #viktor reader

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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 1 day ago

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Hi my darling! My request for the sprint is maybe domestic, fluffy Arthur and reader around camp 💕 like doing little chores, maybe Arthur sketching and reader sewing? I’m not to picky, work your magic! Hope the work event was fun 💕

Alriiight, let's open those festivities with a super fluffy piece of domesticity!! Always up for a comforting cozy prompt! 💓 Thank you sm for your ask Kenny! Love ya 🫶

Your fingers go back and forth, your sewing needle dancing a gently cadenced waltz, just like this late evening; slow rhythm, for once. Sitting directly on the grass not too far from you and Arthur's tent, you're focused on your mundane task, the strange and big family that was this gang surrounding you, a cacophony of sounds that has become everyday and familiar to you.

"Sweetheart."

You hear a deep voice greet you before feeling a small kiss on the crown of your head. The huge form of your lover then falls next to you. He doesn't wait for your permission to lie down, big shoulders pressing against you, his head resting snugly on your thighs, making you raise your arms to save your mending. You chuckle fondly, and he looks up at you, two blue diamonds shining with this so bright and warm joy of being close to the one you love again.

"Comfortable here?"

"Better than any fancy bed, darlin'."

You place your hands a bit further than natural, engulfing him with your arms, wanting to finish your little occupation while he rests on you. He can slightly feel your chest pressing on his forehead and think to himself this is goddamn Heaven.

And you both talk about your day. The ups, the downs. The "I missed you" and the "I wish you could have seen it too". Then, in a gentle silence, Arthur grabs his journal and pencil, drawing and writing about it and the view he's having from your lap, his favourite place to be in the whole world. He never fails to tell the story, the pages covered with your name and the things you've done or said.

Just the scratching of his pen on the paper. The weight of his head on your thigh, his chest lazily rising and falling.

It's all you need.

#mini prompt #miniprompt sprint #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan fluff #also the event was super great thank you for asking!!!!

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rivendellwatch · 2 days ago

Text

🌙🧣✨ Cozy Cuddle Week — Event Closing Speech! ✨🧣🌙

(my goodness we made it to the end and my heart is FULL)

My dearest warm beverage drinkers, soft blanket hoarders, late-night fic readers, snuggly artists, and fandom cuddle champions — the official Cozy Cuddle Week is coming to a close! (My time zone is UTC+2 babes, I'm past midnight here T-T)🥹💕

BUT!! Before anyone panics, remember: the AO3 collection stays open until Tuesday, May 20th (same for Tumblr!! Feel free to tag me, it's closing on the 20th), so if you're still gently poking your fic or brushing the final cozy pixels into your art — take your time. There’s no rush. We’re not going to kick you out of the cuddle pile!!!

If you need an extension, please don’t hesitate to message me here or over on my main ( @maul-of-shame ).

I’m always just a (possibly delayed but always affectionate) DM away!

This event has been — genuinely — such a bright and warm little candle in the middle of a very chaotic fandom forest fire. With all the mess and weirdness that’s been going on lately, this week felt like such a breath of fresh, cinnamon-scented air. Every time I saw a new post, a soft ficlet, a sketch, a cozy comic, even just people tagging the blog or gushing about fluff, it made my entire day brighter!!!🥺💛

I discovered new creators I’d never seen before (hi!! I see you and your soft masterpieces!!), and also got to welcome back some Fluff Week veterans™ — seeing you again truly felt like hugging an old friend in a giant cardigan. Thank you so so much for showing up, for making time in your wild schedules and lives to create something kind and warm and safe.

This fandom needed this

I think we all needed this.

Whether you posted every day, dropped one piece, reblogged your friends' stuff, or just watched from the edges of the snuggle blanket like a shy elf with a warm drink — thank you. You made this event what it is!!!🫂

On the 20th, I’ll post the full recap and shoutouts to everyone who participated — fic writers, artists, gif makers, moodboard sorcerers, everyone. I’ll also be adding a little feedback form (like I did for fluff week) (very chill, very optional!) in case anyone wants to share thoughts, ideas, or little things you’d love to see in future events.

(There’s a spot to tell me your favorite tea/snack or soup too. For science.)

And yes… it is true… the next event will be…

🔥🌶️ SPICE WEEK 🌶️🔥

Because after being this cute and cozy, we absolutely deserve to unhinge a little. (Or a lot. Who’s counting?) More details will come in the future, once I have sufficiently recovered from the softness and also the mild emotional collapse after my recent exams. (I ghoulbossed my way through it, thank you for asking.)

In the meantime:

✨ Please take care of yourselves. ✨ Drink water. Touch grass (or fictional warg fur). ✨ Don’t let fandom nonsense get you down — you and your cozy creations are what make this place magical. ✨ And if you ever need a safe, fluffy little corner to return to… you’ll always be welcome here.

From the bottom of my very squishy heart — thank you. You’re appreciated. You’re talented. You’re lovely. Now go cuddle someone. Or a pillow. Or your OC. Or all three.💖💖💖💖💖💖

Warmest snuggles, Bucky, aka @rivendellwatch (aka your Cozy Goblin Host™)

#the rings of power #trop #rings of power #trop season 2 #the rings of power season 2 #cozy cuddle week 2025 #lotr #trop event #lotr event #cozy cuddle week #fandom event

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bluebeary-jay · 1 month ago

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Crawlin' back to you

Joel Miller x f!sunshine!Reader

Summary: you ask Joel for help while preparing for your upcoming date with another man. (or so it seems)

Tags: grumpy x sunshine, idiots in love, sweet sweet fluff, age gap, a drop of angst, peepaw is insecure abt his age :(, Jackson era, Joel is kind of slow but it's okay we still love him (pookie doesn't realize how hot he is), me dancing around the smut like i'm a fucking circus acrobat

Word count: 4K

A/N: sooo very long time no see 🙈 ever since the start of 2025 i'm telling myself to get back into writing but it still felt like a chore lol. but i REALLY wanted to finish this fic before tlou s2 drops so here it is!!! i'm really proud of how it turned out and i hope to write more in the near future. love you all so so much and as always, happy reading!! 💕

dividers by @saradika 🩷

Joel Miller didn't have friends.

He had a couple of buddies before the outbreak with whom he used to watch the game sometimes, but nothing more than that. Tommy didn't count, of course, because he was his brother and therefore had to be nice to him. The only other person who could put up with him was Ellie, but the kid was… a kid. As for the other people in Jackson, they were wise to keep their distance from Joel, not wanting to hang around a shadow of a man such as him.

He didn't mind. He liked the peace and quiet, and it didn't bother him one bit that everyone seemed to give him a wide berth, whispering about the danger that he was.

Well, almost everyone avoided him. You, the exact person that should stay far away from a man like Joel Miller, gravitated to him with an almost effortless ease. Even amongst all the hopeful people that created Jackson, you were the purest, brightest ray of sunshine, always helpful and compassionate towards anyone who came your way. And even though Joel wasn't exactly welcoming to you in the beginning, you never gave up and persisted – and eventually, befriended him.

And ever since the first time you spoke to him, he didn't stand a chance. You were young and pretty, and so charming with your innocent optimism… Before Joel realized, he was fantasizing about you during the lonely evenings, dreaming of your voice late in the night, and looking for you in the crowd when he was out of the house.

He was way too old to feel this kind of way, and every now and then it felt like he was balancing on a tightrope between being stupid and borderline creepy. Such a sweet girl like you wouldn't look twice at an old man like him if she knew the things that sometimes ran through his mind when he was seeing other men flirting with you, seeking the same warm light that Joel grew addicted to.

That was the poison mixed with your sweetness – even though it was irrational, with you everything seemed easier than it was.

…even falling in love.

And fall Joel Miller did. It was an embarrassing, tainted experience, especially when he remembered how much older than you he was. But he couldn't help it, and once this burning want became clear to him, he didn't really want to fight it, either.

You were everything he should stay far away from – young, pretty and so bright with your smiles, your hope, your innocence. A sinner like Joel Miller had no place in your life, and yet he couldn't muster the courage to let you go. It was selfish of him, he knew, but spending time in your company was one of the few brightsides of his life… and he didn't have many of those, lately. He genuinely enjoyed being near you – a lot more than he probably should.

That's why, when he noticed you skipping his way with a bright smile splattered across your cheeks, he felt his heart instantly lighten. It was a hard day of work at the construction site and he was relieved to finally be heading home, but just the sight of you made the weariness disappear from within his bones.

“Joel! Hi!” Something must have stirred you quite strongly, for you were practically bouncing with excitement. The words were spilling out of your mouth before he even had a chance to say hello. “I need your help, right now. Please.”

“Slow down, darlin’,” he chuckled, letting you drag him by the arm to a wall of the nearest building and away from the crowd. “You alrigh’?”

“Yeah, yes, of course.” You waved to someone passing by, totally unfazed – or maybe just ignorant – that you were being seen with him in public. “I just need your help.”

“Well, what is it?” he repeated the question and finally, you turned to face him. Joel couldn't help but match the pretty smile on your face, but it quickly faded when you blurted out your next words.

“I like someone.”

That short, simple sentence wrecked Joel’s world by the foundations. For a couple of seconds he just stared at you with his mouth slightly agape while you fidgeted with your hands nervously, but still overjoyed.

“Wh– uhh, sorry?”

“I like someone,” you repeated excitedly, as if your words weren't piercing right through Joel's heart. “And I need your help.”

All of the sudden, the world lost all its colors, as if all the meaning was sucked out of the universe just by your words.

Why it was such a surprise to him, Joel didn't know. Of course you'd sooner or later get together with someone. He should have expected it. You were young, pretty and such a joy to be around, people were gravitating towards you instinctively. Like moths to a flame.

Just like him – yet he was always destined to only get burned.

“Joel?”

You leaned closer and Joel's eyes instinctively focused on your lower lip worried between your teeth. You were obviously oblivious to his feelings, as well as the effect you had on him – otherwise he doubted you'd tempt him like that, unknowingly making his mind fixate on how perfect your lips would have felt under his touch.

But no, it wasn't his caresses you wanted. There was someone else, someone far more deserving of you, and you were asking Joel only for his help. And though it hurt him – it killed him to lose this small sliver of affection you had been giving him so far – he nodded supportingly.

“Wha… what do you need help with, sweet girl?” he asked softly, trying not to show how devastated he felt inside. Joel had no desire to hear about whoever was fortunate enough to gain your favor, but again, luck wasn't on his side.

“I made a plan to meet him,” you explained enthusiastically, grabbing his forearm. Joel looked at where your fingers touched his skin, barely listening to your words. “Tonight. And I need you to come with me.”

That woke him up from his reverie. Joel huffed and shook his head sharply, looking at you like you were out of your mind.

“No.” His tone was almost biting, but through his firm refusal, a trace of panic was slipping through. You pouted, squeezing his forearm lightly.

“Oh, come on, please? I just want to make sure everything’s perfect.”

“No,” Joel repeated, much weaker this time. “Hell no. Why would I–” Then, a dark thought bloomed in his mind and his face turned concerned. “You're worried he'd do somethin’ to you?”

“Oh, no, no!” It was your turn to shake your head, and you actually cracked a smile at Joel's worried tone. “No, he'd never hurt me.”

Your voice got softer; your smile turned serene. Joel wanted nothing more than to turn away when your eyes started to wander across his features, but again that proved to be too herculean of a task compared to the hold you had over him.

“He's kind,” you continued absentmindedly, and on the edge of consciousness Joel remembered your hand was still on his arm, tracing small lines with your thumb. “Respectful and thoughtful… A real gentleman.”

“A-and who’s he?” Joel found the courage to ask, breaking you out of your daydreams. You smiled happily again – that damned, sweet smile of yours – and removed your hand. He immediately started missing the feeling of your touch.

“You'll see.” You looked over your shoulder when someone shouted your name a street away, and waved from the distance. You gave Joel one last pleading look, clasping your hands together. “Come to the Tipsy Bison at 9. Please? You can just sit in the corner but I'll feel so much better and safer with you there.”

Once Joel looked into your beautiful, pleading eyes, he was a goner. He never could deny you anything either way.

Even when he would kill for a chance to go on a real date with you.

“Okay,” he finally caved in. “Alrigh’. I'll be there.”

The overjoyed smile you gave him was almost enough to soothe the hollow pain in his chest.

Almost.

Great. Fucking great.

Joel made another turn around the street, trying to build up the courage to approach Tipsy Bison. The flannel shirt he wore was itching uncomfortably, but he was already half an hour late and there was no time to go back home and change.

He regretted ever setting foot in Jackson. It was a nightmare situation for him, having to spend the evening in a room full of loud, drunk people and watch as you go about your date with another man. Joel thought a dozen times about making up some excuse as to why he can't chaperone your date after all. He even went as far as to beg Tommy to accompany him, just that he wouldn’t have to suffer alone, but his younger brother just gave him a pitying look, saying something about spending time with Maria tonight. Joel could always cancel, lie that he can’t make it after all… but then he remembered how hopeful and thankful you looked, and all his resolve was wavering again. He couldn't ever say no to you, even though he desperately wanted to.

He looked at his broken watch, sighing at the hour. He delayed the inevitable long enough, so with heavy steps he approached the bar at last. You asked him to go through the back door, for whatever reason, and he was too tired at the time to point out there’s nothing back there except for the kitchen and storage rooms. Whatever. You probably were already in the main hall, with your date, and either you were angry at Joel for being late, or not thinking about him at all. He wasn’t sure which one would be worse.

Once he stepped over the threshold, he carefully closed the door behind him. The racket from the bar was muffled here, but from the nearest room he could hear someone muttering. Joel swallowed heavily and cleared his throat to alert whoever was on the other side of the wall.

“Joel?” he heard your voice before you appeared in the doorway. At the sight of him your shoulders dropped and with confusion he noted that you didn’t look angry or disappointed – you seemed relieved. “Goddammit, finally you’re here. You took your sweet time, huh?”

Before he could answer, you walked forward and took his sleeve, half-dragging him behind you. Words of protest bubbled on his tongue, but they all died quickly when Joel saw the room you emerged from.

The storage shelves were decorated with fairy lights and in the middle of the room stood a small table with two chairs opposite each other. The only other source of light were a couple of candles on the table and around the room. There was food on the table – probably cold by now – and a bottle of wine. But most importantly – there was no one else in the room except for Joel and you.

While he was looking around like an absolute fool, searching for an explanation for this situation, you cautiously closed the door and walked around the man, coming to a stop by the set table with your hands clasped in front of you.

“...Well?” you asked after an uncomfortably long silence, letting out a nervous laugh. “What do you think?”

Joel blinked, not sure if you were talking to him.

“Where's the guy?”

You threw him a confused look, but truly, it was the only thing Joel could think of. He glanced around the room again, as if his mysterious competition was going to jump up from behind one of the shelves, but there was no trace of anyone else here.

“Your… your date,” he clarified after a moment and cleared his throat once more. A spark of understanding flashed in your eyes and you pressed your lips together. “It's late. Is he… He didn't set you up, did he?”

“That depends,” you finally answered softly, keeping your wary but hopeful eyes on him. “Are you finally gonna sit down?”

A cog clicked into its place in Joel's mind and he turned his head, not sure if he had heard you right. You smiled nervously and motioned to the table.

“The food’s probably cold by now, but I can heat it up. It’s your own fault, though, since I asked you to be here forty minutes ago–”

“I don’t…”

He didn’t understand. Nothing made sense, but he had to make sure, “So there’s no… there’s no date?”

You were clearly nervous, judging by the way you were fidgeting with your hands, but you sent him a shy smile nonetheless. “I mean, you’re here…”

Joel didn’t answer – frankly, he didn’t know what to say. So many conflicted emotions were swirling in his chest, blocking his throat from squeezing out even a sound. It created almost a physical pain between his ribs, especially when your eyes were still on him, so hopeful and patient.

After another pregnant pause, you let out a quiet breath and took a step forward, throwing him a lifeline since he clearly must’ve looked like an idiot. “There’s no one else coming, if that’s what you’re asking. I made all of this for you – for… us, maybe. I just…” You half-shrugged, and only now Joel realized how nice you looked, wearing a dress he never before saw you in, “didn’t know how to tell you.”

Joel swept his gaze over the room once more – the dinner, the lights, your pretty dress… and you. And it was all for him, apparently.

“Why?” he breathed, the weight of his age almost making him collapse to his knees. He desperately wanted to say something more profound than one word at the time, but his voice was failing him. Thankfully, you were always kind enough to fill in the silence.

“Why did I lie to you or why did I drag you here of all places?” You rounded the table, eyeing the decorations with a proud smile. “Well–”

“No, darlin’, why…” He shook his head. Everything felt too unreal, too sudden. And he felt so tired. “Why me?”

That made you pause and you turned to him with a surprised look, like what he just said was the last thing you expected to hear.

“What do you mean, why you?” you huffed incredulously, leaning forward against the back of the chair, and though you tried to look casual, the nervousness in the tension of your body was apparent. “You’re just… I mean, it must be pretty clear that I really like you… And I thought you might have felt the same. You know, with all the ‘darling’s’ and looking at me, and stuff…”

Was it a dream? You always looked like you were out of a dream, but something about this moment… the fairy lights, your shy demeanor, the words he never thought he’d hear from you… Joel didn't know if he was still alive or maybe that's what the afterlife looked like.

“...You could say something,” you half-joked with a trace of worry in your voice, obviously growing uncomfortable at his lack of reaction. “You know, Tommy only let me have this place ‘til midnight before they come by to restock the bar. We can at least eat and talk a little, right?”

“Did Tommy put you up to this?” Joel asked bitterly, unable to stop himself at the mention of his brother’s name. He recalled the look Tommy gave him earlier today, his excuses as to why he can’t come with him... What other explanation could there be for such a gorgeous, young woman to be interested in Joel of all people, if it wasn’t just a product of his kin’s poor humor? However, he instantly regretted asking you this when your soft smile disappeared altogether, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“You can just say if you don’t feel the same way,” you said dryly with an angry and hurt furrow on your brow. “No need to be a dick about it.”

You walked by him, apparently done with Joel’s accusations and grumpiness, but he quickly caught your arm before he could think better of it. You spun around, probably ready to tear into him, but he wouldn't hear a word either way – no while a vortex of doubts and questions raged in his mind. Joel didn’t know how or why you’d ever take interest in an old man like him, but he was now certain of two things.

One, you were telling the truth. For whatever reason, you really liked him – enough to plan and prepare a whole dinner date just for him.

And two, if Joel let you walk out now, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

You must’ve noticed the change on his face when his eyes flickered to your lips because you froze, the words of hurt and disappointment drying out on your tongue. Joel swallowed and wet his lips, looking for any sign of hesitation or regret on your face, but there was nothing in your eyes but pure, fragile anticipation. He delicately put his hand on the side of your face, the rough pad of his thumb brushing your cheek slowly. Your eyelashes fluttered closed and you let out a shaky breath, and that was all it took for Joel to lean down and press his lips to yours.

The kiss started delicate, but almost immediately turned into a fervent, hungry thing, which you ardently reciprocated. Joel wanted to take his time, to test the waters and build up the anticipation until you were ready to beg for him, but he didn’t expect just how fucking good kissing you would feel – and how eager you were for his touch. The smell of you, the feel of your hands on his chest and arms… it was driving him crazy with want, and without thinking twice, he spun you around and pinned your back against the edge of the table, making you whimper into his mouth.

“Goddammit, baby…” The term of endearment slipped out before he realized it, but judging by your reaction you didn’t mind at all. Your breath hitched, making him smirk to himself as he started to realize just how much power he held over you. It certainly shouldn’t excite him as much as it did. “Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want?”

“Joel, if you don’t stop questioning me…” you started, and although your words were firm, your voice leaned into a deliciously needy pitch, the kind of which he yearned to hear for far too long. Joel groaned into your mouth, moving down to press hot kisses against the line of your jaw and down your neck, greedily drinking in the noises you were making.

“Tell me, darlin’,” he asked in a low voice, experimentally running his palm up your thigh under the pretty dress you wore. The effect was immediate, and you pressed your body closer to him, seeking his touch the moment it left your skin. “I need to know if you really mean all this.”

“For fuck’s sake, Joel–” You made a surprised noise as he hoisted you up and onto the table, but it turned into another needy whimper when he knocked your knees apart and slotted himself between them with ease. You glanced behind you, worried that you'll push the silverware off the table, and Joel took this moment to resume the onslaught on your neck, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could reach. You choke back a moan as his touch made a shiver run up your spine. “Joel, please…”

“I need to hear it, sweetheart,” he murmured lowly against your skin, slowing down to tease you when he felt your heartbeat quicken up beneath his lips. “Need to make sure you know what you're gettin’ into.”

“I do, I promise,” you assured him fervently while your hands went to the back of his head, fingers tangling into his gray locks. “You have no idea how many times I thought about this. I wanted you for so long, Joel, please…”

“Wanted you, too, darlin’.” He put one of his hands on the small of your back, pulling your lower half closer to the edge of the table so you could feel what you were doing to him. “God, every time you smiled at me it was all I could think about… So kind and beautiful, never thought you'd look twice my way.”

You didn't bother to answer this time, instead angling his head up to kiss him deeply again. The doubt and fear were still present in Joel's mind, but he honestly couldn't focus on them with you in front of him. You were so warm under his palms, so pliant and eager, a literal putty in his steady hands. He could never imagine how incredible it felt to be wanted by someone so much, but at the same time he knew he had to take his time. As much as he wanted to keep going, to make you see stars and sing his name, it was more than just lust with you.

So when you reached for the buttons of his shirt, he gently grabbed your wrists and moved them away, finally regaining his self-control. You whined disapprovingly, but the crease between your brows quickly disappeared when Joel kissed your fingers softly, not taking his eyes off you.

“Shh, sweetheart, don’t rush,” he cood, earning a small disappointed pout. He had to close his eyes, lest he caved in. Fuck, the sight of you before him – your pupils blown wide, lips swollen from his ministrations, your heavy breath and the dress bunched around your hips… Joel was sure you’d let him do anything to you right now. And God, he couldn’t wait. “Let me do this properly, yeah? Have a nice date with you, then maybe take you home if you don’t change your mind…��

“We can skip the dinner,” you quietly offered, your breath still uneven and cheeks flushed. He huffed a laugh with fondness and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, his own breathing also slightly erratic.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured against your skin before taking your face in his hands. “Someone did say I’m a gentleman, no?”

You seemed to regret your previous choice of words, accentuating it with a disappointed whimper and a buck of your hips. Joel groaned and kissed you deeply again, almost able to taste all the impatience and desire on your tongue. Surprisingly, you didn’t fight him further and instead obediently slid off the table, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to be as close to him as possible.

Joel was grateful for this moment of calm before even more excitement – and he didn’t mind spending it by watching you, standing so close and smiling up at him as brightly as the sun itself.

“You believe me now?” you asked teasingly, stifling your giggles when Joel rolled his eyes playfully. “Good. You will have to make it up to me, then.”

Worry crept back onto Joel’s face, but you were quick to calm him down with a tender kiss to his jaw, and then another one lower, on his pulse point. “You were late. If you got here on time, we could’ve been doing this at least half an hour longer.”

Joel chuckled and lifted your chin with his finger, before kissing you briefly one last time.

“Baby, let’s enjoy the dinner you prepared, first. After that, I swear I’ll make it up to you in however many ways you want.”

Judging by your smile, you didn’t seem to mind at all.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #grumpy x sunshine #the last of us fic #joel miller x you

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yanderedrabbles · 3 months ago

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💕 Yandere Valentine's Day Gifts ♥️

Prompt: You own the local flower shop. It's Valentine's Day. Which customers will be popping in?

Yandere! Sugar Daddy calls you two weeks before Valentine's to order fifteen separate bouquets for his darling. Every exotic and rare shade that roses come in.

"I want them delivered fresh. Early morning please."

"Yes sir, I can manage that," you tell him, still reeling at the ridiculously large amount he just paid you.

On Valentine's Day, his maid let's you and your crew into his penthouse. You can't help but let out a low whistle when you see the size of the place.

He directs you to set the bouquets out around the living room. The morning light from the floor to ceiling windows catches on the glitter you dusted across the arrangements.

He has a sort of nervous energy - arranging and then rearranging the flowers. You sometimes hear a thumping, banging sound from deeper in his penthouse but when you ask him about it he says its just the building creaking. You don't know much about skyscrapers this high and so you let it go.

When it's all finally to his satisfaction, he tips you and your crew very generously. As you leave, you see him setting out a whole slew of iconic Tiffany jewellery boxes.

His darling will be showered with the most expensive love money can buy. Whether they want it or not.

Yandere! Bisexual Best Friend breezes into your shop like a true haute couture diva. He looks over his designer sunglasses and snorts with disdain at the traditional red bouquets.

"Nothing so cliche for my girl," he tells you.

He orders pink and white camellias, with sprigs of baby's breath. He has you wrap the stems in matching pastel paper. When you ask him if he'd like to include a card, he writes his message in a beautiful, looping cursive.

'I know no boyfriend will get you flowers that you actually like. That's why you have me. Happy Valentine's Day gorgeous.'

"Very elegant," you tell him.

"Thanks. I'm meeting her for brunch and drinks after this."

He shows you his other gift for his darling. A bottle of expensive perfume, in a glittery blush pink box.

When you ask him if his friend has any dates planned, he tilts his head and smiles without any warmth at all.

"Not if I can help it."

Yandere! Actor doesn't come into the shop or call you directly. It's his hurried, harried assistant that places the order.

"Five dozen roses in a single bouquet. I'll bring you some chocolate that he wants between the flowers. Oh, and a card. Don't forget the card."

When she drops off the chocolate for you to use in your arrangement, you can't help but want to look up the price. Everything from the packaging to the hefty weight of each chocolate screams luxury artisanal brand.

The final arrangement is beautiful, but in a looking-good-on-camera sort of way. You don't know the order is for him until his assistant accidentally let's it slip who her boss is. Your eyebrows shoot up but you manage not to ask any questions. A billionaire and now a celebrity. Seems like everyone wants to be extra romantic this year.

"What does he want on the card?" you ask, pen poised.

"Oh, he sent one for you to use." She hands you a card printed on thick cream paper, elegant in its minimalism. You glance at the writing before you can stop yourself.

'A star like you deserves all the flowers. Happy Valentine's dollface.'

Cute. The exact sort of thing you'd expect from a heart throb like him.

It's only when you see him and his darling on the red carpet later that night - his arm around their waist the entire night - that you begin to wonder if there's more to their relationship than meets the eye.

Yandere! Werewolf shows up right before you close, hands on his knees while he catches his breath. He ran straight to your shop after football practice and there's still grass stains on his chin.

"Oh god, tell me I'm not too late for roses." He looks so worried that you take pity on him and agree to look in the back for any bouquets that might have slipped under the radar.

He must be supernaturally lucky, because you manage to find a dozen red roses. When you get back to the front, he's taken out the rest of his gifts from his backpack.

There's an overstaffed werewolf plush, an extra large leather dog collar, some pre-packaged bones and a chew toy.

"Interesting selection," you say as you ring up his flowers.

He rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah. They uh... have a dog. It's mostly for the dog."

You get the sense he isn't being entirely honest, but you're not the type to pry. When you're done, he shoots you a gorgeous smile.

"I totally owe you one. You really kept me out of the doghouse."

He's just about to leave when he suddenly remembers something. He digs in the pocket of his letterman jacket and pulls out a clear packet of candy hearts. You look closer and realise he must have picked out individual sweets just for their message. They're repeated again and again.

'Be mine.'

'Yours forever.'

'Kiss me.'

"Do you think these are canine safe?" he asks you. You think about it for a second and then nod.

It's only after he's left that you wonder what sort of dog would want to eat candy like that.

#Yandere Valentine's Day #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #Valentines special #valentines day

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rowdydevs · 7 months ago

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“𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲” - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙳𝙸𝙻𝙵!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 × 𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 | 𝐎𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓴 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

⚠️ warnings contain spoilers ⚠️

Older!Rafe, DILF!Rafe, pet names, kissing, praise, angst, soft!Rafe, swearing, smoking, drinking, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), cum tasting, spanking, choking, rough sex, degredation, rough oral, ownership kink, orgasm control, multiple orgasms

Thank you to my lovely beta reader @oceandriveab love you bae 💕🩷

Rafe’s POV:

"I love you, man. But, I'm home for one fuckin' week. Leave me alone. Yeah?"

"The Azimut deal is major, Cameron," my boss groans. “We really need you face-to-face in Italy.”

"I haven’t been home in a month. I’m gonna be gone for another few weeks," I chuckle in disbelief as I rub the sleep from my eyes; this fucker is tryin’ to pull even more of my time away. “Send, Top. I’m sure he’ll be able to land the deal. Alright?”

"We both know he won’t-"

"Not my fuckin’ problem," I cut him short as I drift into the driveway.

"Your loss. That’s a shit ton of money, man.”

"Yeah… Well, I got plenty of that. We done?" I taunt.

"Fuck. You’re killin’ me... See you in a week, Cameron. Give the best to y/n and the kids."

"Umm yeah... Gotta go," I sigh as I watch the scene play out in front of me. Jesus Christ. Problems already? This kid... Why is he me? Fuck. I'm gettin’ it back tenfold. I roll down my window, eavesdropping shamelessly, watching Harbor Thornton clamber the rest of the way out the window. Max leans toward her, cig dangling from his lip, no shirt on his muscular body, and a neck full of fresh hickeys.

"Tell him you went to Macy’s house, princess," he smirks, exhaling two streams of smoke through his nose. "I'll be right down. M'kay?"

"Don't take too long, Maxi. We're gonna be late."

Maxi? I can't help but snort out a sleepy snicker.

"Late for a party? We’re always late, Thornton. I just need to get my shit. Then, we can go to your house and get you dressed.”

”I can’t wait for you to see my costume, baby. Maybe you can take it off me later.”

”M’plannin’ on it.” He hooks his hand around the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her bleach-blonde hair.

"Maybe we can sneak into Piper’s parent’s room," she mumbles between sloppy kisses. Enough. Make it end. I open the truck door, slamming it shut. The two of them fall silent.

"Welp. Now or never," I gripe as I press the door open— Harbor lowers herself down the side of the house, clearly aware of my arrival as she does her best to hide. Like it matters, sweetheart... Your BMW is parked right outside the gate. "Have a nice day, Harbor," I sigh.

She looks around the house, giving me a guilty grin and a wave. "Uh-h... Hi, Mr. Cameron," she stammers. "You too." Harbor looks back at the window, no Max to be seen, quickly scampering to her car. An even thicker cloud of smoke pours out, wafting away. Jesus Christ, bud. I throw my head down, shuffling up toward the door, climbing up a few steps before grabbing the knob. There's a stir behind it already. My babies. Jerking it open, stepping through the threshold, a roar of joy following fast.

"Daddy!" Poppy shrieks at the top of her lungs. Her feet patter against the hardwood floor, Rory trailing close behind. I squat down to their level, waiting for them to round the corner. I meet their twinkling eyes, smiles doubling. They crash into my arms, crawling onto me to get closer. I hold them tight, taking in their smell. A wide smile sets on my lips as well.

"I missed you, two."

"Missed you, Daddy," Rory smiles. Poppy gives me an all-too-wet kiss on the cheek before nuzzling in again.

"I love you, Daddy," she whispers.

"I love you, princess. And I love you too, bud."

They leave as soon as they come, tearing back to the kitchen, leaving y/n standing in the doorframe, giving me a moment. She chuckles warmly, a beautiful smile playing on her perfect lips, giving me butterflies. Still. She walks my way, wrapping her arms around my neck. Picking her up in a hug, I pull her in tight. "Fuck. I missed my girl," I mumble against her skin, pressing a gentle kiss on the crook of her neck. "I love you, babydoll."

I set her down on the ground, not letting her leave my arms. Matching her gaze, I feel myself at peace again. "I love you too, baby," she whispers. Damn, I missed her voice. Cupping her soft cheek in my hands, I kiss her again, feeling her smile against my mouth.

"What?" I laugh lightly.

"You kinda smell like weed," she hums.

"That ain't me, honey."

"What?" She draws back, wide-eyed. "Max?"

"Mhmm..."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head in frustration. "I said no weed," she whizzes. I blurt out a laugh, throwing my head back. Y/n slaps my chest, a little scowl setting on her pouty lips. "Rafe... He has ISS."

"ISS?"

"In-school suspension..."

"Oh shit. What'd I miss?" I breathe as I shut my eyes tightly. "Lay it on me, princess."

"Apparently, he sells weed."

"Why?" I whine. "It's not like he needs to..."

"He said we wouldn't buy him that truck he wanted? So, he's gonna buy his own."

"All’s I said was he had to wait ��til his birthday or somethin’. He wants a fuckin’ Raptor, y/n. Shit starts at 80 G’s… Maybe get a job? Help me around the office? Do somethin’ besides jackin’ our boat, drinkin’ beers, and golfin’. Jesus fuck, that kid’s somethin’ else."

"Technically... he did get a job,” she breathes as she rests her palms on my chest, calming me down slightly.

"Technically... I guess," I huff, rolling my eyes away. "He is killin' me. Did you know Thornton was here?"

“Topper?”

“Harbor,” I correct her. Y/n's mouth falls open in disgust. "She was not... She didn’t come through the front.”

"Think they wanted some privacy, honey," you groan, shuddering in disgust, y/n echoing the same.

"Can you talk to him?" Y/n whispers, her tired eyes pleading with mine. "I thought I was doin' a good job, Rafe—Shit's fallin' through the cracks. I wasn’t even gonna do anything with the twins for Halloween… Just dress ‘em in one of Winnie and Max’s old costumes and pass out candy.”

“Winnie…” I smile, just thinkin’ about my pride and joy. “Where’s our girl at?” I ask as I look around the house, just the sound of the twins pattering feet left behind.

“You don’t wanna know,” Y/n sighs as she tugs her phone out of her back pocket, showing me a picture that has my eyes doubling.

“That’s Win?” I ask as I look down at my angel in next to nothin’, slamming my eyes shut in mental exhaustion. “What is she supposed to be?”

“Little Red Riding Hood?” Y/n sighs— the two of us silently coming to terms with the fact that our babies are anything but babies anymore.

“So, she’s gone then?”

“Just left with Jackson Mayb-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, pretty girl,” I mumble as I wrap my arms around her shoulders, pulling her in for comfort.

“It’s been a mess here, Rafe. I’m not doing a good job-”

"You." I stop her, pressing a rough kiss on her forehead. "You are doing an amazing job, y/n."

"Thank you," she whispers weakly. Y/n's attention gets ripped away, brows furrowing in irritation as she glances out the front window, watching Max lower himself from above. "Now? Please."

"Of course, honey." I give her one last kiss, turning toward the door, breaking out in a little trot, throwing the entry open. "Max!"

Max turns on his heels, looking back at me annoyedly, his mother's scowl and a button nose, the rest of him all me. "Rafe."

"Scuse me?" I challenge, making him shift his stance, crossing his arms over his tight white polo, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"I'm just kiddin'. Calm your tits,” he scoffs.

"Sure… I missed you. Weren't you gonna say 'hi' or anythin’?" He crushes the grass with his boat shoe, throwing his gaze to the ground to avoid eye contact. "Max?"

"Missed you too. Sorry... I just didn't want a lecture ‘bout Harbor-”

"Harbor?” I laugh tiredly. “The Thornton girl is the least of my worries. Why are you sellin', bud? You could get a job or help-"

"Rich comin' from you," he snips, cutting me off with a cruel laugh.

"What does that mean?"

"It's like the pot callin' the kettle black. You were literally a drug dealer. You dealt drugs, Dad."

"That shit was different ."

"That shit was worse," He sneers, turning back in the direction he was going. “M’sellin’ grass, not yayo. Fuckin’ hypocrit,” he yaps over his shoulder.

"Just get a normal job, Max. Like one with a W -2 ... Work with me-”

"Nah... 'Cause you don't get it,” he turns around, angry and quick.

"What don't I get?" I lift my voice, causing Max to return his stare to mine, looking back at me in disbelief.

"You’re never home. What’s there to do if you ain’t here? Huh?”

"Max-"

"What, Dad? Seriously... I'm gonna be late to pick her up. It’s Halloween. Give it a rest-”

"Cut the shit, Max," I mumble. "She's on the other side of the gate." He gives me a smirk, holding back a chuckle as he takes off his captain’s hat, running his fingers through his hair with a smug smile before putting it back on. "You two bein’ safe?" I ask gently.

"Not talkin' to you about that, old man."

"Holy shit," I puff, covering my eyes with my hands as I do my best not to lose my mind. "I'm your dad, Max. I worry about that shit."

"Of course we are. I'm not a stupid like-"

"Like me? Only me. Right?" I stop him before he can go any further, seeing the first look of remorse in his sights. "I know you weren't about to talk about your mom, Max." He throws his gaze to his feet again. "What would she say if she heard you talkin' like that?"

"She'd be upset," he mutters feebly. "Don't tell her I said that. I'm sorry."

"We just want you to be safe. Okay? It wasn't easy for your mom and me for a while. We just want your life to be easier. We aren't tryin' to ruin your life. And we can talk about the job tomorrow. I don’t wanna ruin your night. I'm sure we can figure out somethin' that doesn't involve you sellin' weed." He nods, giving me a soft smile. His mother's smile. Max turns around again, stepping away.

"I love you, bud."

"Love you too, dad. I'm glad you're home." There's no sarcasm in his tone, warming your heart.

"Oh, wait! Did you two need me to pick you up tonight?" I ask as he passes through the gate.

"The fuck do you think?" He cracks up, flicking me off with a smile.

Love you too, buddy. Turning around, I trudge up the driveway toward the house. Well... I don't know if I made it better or worse. But, that was somethin'.' I close my eyes, taking a deep, needed breath. The front door opens, and Y/n steps, strolling toward her SUV with the twins in hand. She opens the side, letting them climb in, walking back to the trunk.

Her dress sways with the fall breeze, heels strapped around her ankles. Wow. I’m struck with déjà vu. She wore a dress just like that on our first date. I couldn't keep my eyes off her. That face, that smile, her voice, her curves. She knew how to work 'em all.

Babygirl… Y/n reaches inside, the hem of her dress riding up her thighs. The slightest peak of her perfect fuckin' ass. A smile spreads across my lips. Y/n knows I'm watchin'... She knew it then, too. I need her... So fuckin' bad. It's been too long.

I walk toward her while she digs through the twins' travel bag, hastily taking hold of her hips, pressing myself against her ass, making her giggle. She winds up slowly, relaxing her back against my chest, looking up at me over her shoulder. "You're stunning. Fuck, you look so damn good, y/n," I rasp.

"Thank you, daddy. So do you."

"What are you doin’, ma?”

“Getting them costumes. I feel guilty, Rafe,” she sighs with embarrassment. “I can’t believe I didn’t. The older kids are a disaster; the house is a mess-”

“Don’t feel guilty, baby. The kids are fine. They’re just teenagers. Yeah? And you aren’t a maid. I can’t believe you’re keepin’ up with everything like you are. Get outta here, baby. Buy yourself a coffee, get us a bottle of wine for later, pick up the costumes. Let me handle these two. Unless you want me to go-”

“No!” She stops me fast, laughing at her rash reply. “No. I’d love to get out”.

“And, I’ll talk to the housekeeper about comin’ once a week. Oh, and Harbor… I’ll ask her to come over when I’m outta town so you can take a break. You deserve it.”

“You sure,” she asks apprehensively.

“‘Course I’m sure, pretty,” I croon as I cup her cheeks, pressing a kiss on her lips. “We’ll get these kids dressed up, walk around the neighborhood for a bit, put ‘em down, and have some time for ourselves.”

"That would be amazing." She turns her body into mine, arms wrapping around me, slipping into the back pockets of my slacks. "A night to ourselves. Huh?” She smiles at me coyly.

"Yeah… We’ll snag the good candy, bury a few glasses of wine, and have a good night…”

"I can’t wait, Rafey. I need you so bad."

"Well, shit," I chuckle lustfully. "You're readin' my mind."

"It's been too long." She leans in for a kiss as she squeezes my ass.

"I was just sayin' that, y/n." My hands weave through her hair, tugging slightly.

"You should feel how wet I am for you..."

"That so?" I slip my hand down, tracing slowly up her thigh, feeling her lace panties soaking wet.

"AHHH!" Poppy screeches, making you both jump, jolting the two of you out of your feral state.

"What the hell..." I grumble, making y/n laugh. "You good, princess?" Poppy smiles brightly from her car seat. Her blonde curls bounce as she nods 'yes.’

"She's been doin' that all week," y/n breathes.

"I'm sorry, baby. You're a patient woman," I hail as I pull her in for a hug. "Thank you."

“Anything for you, daddy.”

Shit. I rub my hand over my smile as she steps away, smacking her ass before she can get too far, chuckling to myself as I watch the recoil. So fuckin’ sexy. Y/n meets my gaze, giving me a little wink as she steps into the front seat. Yeah… That’s my girl.

“You two wanna go play on the trampoline?” I ask, offering up the only thing that’ll pull them out of the vehicle without tears. The two squeal with delight as I free them from their seats, climbing out of the car, running toward the back before I can even shut the doors. I stand in the drive, waving at y/n as she pulls out. She looks happier. Fuck, she just needed time to herself.

Hurry home, baby.

Reader’s POV:

You pour a coffee for Rafe and yourself, adding some Bailey’s to top it all off. It had been a long, tiring week with a never-ending list of tasks with him away. But he was finally home. Rafe leans down at eye-level with your daughter, fixing her little cat ears. He turns to your son, swathing the superhero cape around his shoulders before tying the perfect bow.

The twins giggle, bright smiles plastered all over their round faces as their favorite man dotes on them, the two sneaking in hugs and kisses when they can. Rafe reaches into the back pocket of his slacks, grabbing his phone, snapping picture after picture of the duo, looking back at them proudly.

The four of you step out into the night, hand-in-hand. You walk through your beautiful neighborhood, an unsaid contest between the kooks of who could outdo who, each one of the stately manors more done up than the last. Jack-o’-lanterns flicker on the entrances, spooky music swelling all around.

You look up at Rafe and smile. Even though it was decades ago, you couldn't help but see that same college boy you fell in love with; Rafe still rocking a backward cap, his crisp polo poking out of his cozy North Face jacket. He’s exchanged his jeans for khakis and his red SOLO cups for a travel mug. But the man only looks better with age. The glow of the streetlights highlights his strong jawline— grizzled with the perfect 5 o'clock shadow. His beautiful blue eyes follow the twins as they run freely from house to house. Rafe’s fit, he always has been, but the way his muscles move under his clothes has you dying to rip them all off.

He’s talking business, telling stories about some big deals he closed. You try your best to focus—you really do, but you get lost watching his perfect lips as he speaks, catching the little looks he steals between sips of coffee making your head spin.

Rafe was working so hard for your family: closing deals, making a name for himself, doing what he loves and still coming home being the husband and dad you could only dream of… He’s perfect. You'd drag him home right now if it wouldn't break the twins’ hearts.

Your kids run over, laughing and squealing with delight, opening their bags wide to show the two of you their treasures. Rafe kneels down, looking in the sack, asking them about their loot. “What’d you get? Show me, princess,” Rafe invites, his tone softening as she speaks to her. Your daughter reaches into the satchel and points her tiny finger at a few king-size candy bars. Rafe sneaks his hand in too, grabbing a Reese’s cup. Your daughter’s eyes widened in horror; Rafe signature scowl and glare cutting into her dad.

“Daddy!” She scolds, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh - Umm,” Rafe panics slightly as he stands up, towering over your daughter, looking down at her as he fumbles for his wallet. “I didn't steal it. Alright? Daddy was hungry, was all. How much do I owe you, sweetheart?”

“A dollar.”

“A dollar?” He gasps as he fights a wide smile. “You drive a hard bargain.” Rafe thumbs through his wallet, pulling out a dollar and one more as he catches Rory hoping for one too. “N’what do you have for me, buddy?” He questions as he crouches down, looking in the bag. Rory sticks out his tongue as he reaches inside the pouch, looking for something for Rafe, pulling out a taffy. Rafe scrunches his nose in disgust, contorting it into a smile before your son catches his eye again, making you laugh.

Fuck, he's killing me. You feel your cheeks warm up as he walks back to you, looking down at you with loving eyes. Your heart swells with devotion as he slips his hand into yours, feeling the warmth of his palm. He lifts your hand, kissing the top. But it’s not enough; Rafe pulls you in by the hand, kissing your lips instead. “I missed you, baby,” he mumbles against your kiss, his voice dropping slightly lower, sending chills across your body. He smiles against your mouth as you echo the same sentiment. “You look so sexy tonight,” he drawls, his southern accent bleeding through his compliment, his tone warm, and sticky sweet.

“You look so good, daddy,” you praise. Rafe groans against your lips, living in your words.

“It’s after bedtime. What do you say, baby?” He asks as his large hand falls down your body, pulling you in by your waist. “Let’s go home.”

Rafe’s eyes widen as he walks through the door. "No fuckin’ way," he praises as he drinks you in, taking in every inch of your frilly maid’s costume. His beautiful blue eyes fall to a lusty haze. “N’I said ‘you weren’t a maid, baby… You makin’ a liar outta me. Huh?” He asks as he twirls you under his finger.

Rafe’s rough hands slip under the hem of your lace stockings, following the little straps of your garter belt, clipped to your barely there panties, still hidden under the satin skirt. “Daddy’s gotta get you out of the house more… ‘Specially if you’re gonna come back with gifts like this. You’re spolin’ me. Fuck,” he groans drunkenly, looking down at you in awe. He takes you into his strong arms, tossing you playfully on the mattress.

Rafe mounts the bed fast, crushing you under his weight. His lips capture yours in a heated kiss."You taste good... You smell so fuckin' good, darlin'," he purrs as he buries his head in your neck, stroking his clothed cock against your throbbing pussy. "Damn. I missed this."

"I missed you, baby. C'mon... I need you inside of me," you pant in that pathetic tone that gets you anything you want.

"Jesus, y/n," he moans, chuckling sinfully.

"Why are you dressed, daddy?"

"Good question." He sucks off your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth. "Can I leave these on?" Rafe asks, snapping the garter belt around the fullness of your thighs with his big fingers. You smile and nod.

"Panties, too..." You add.

"Well shit," he breathes onto your lips, instantly gliding two thick fingers up your soaked cunt, making you suck in a breath. Rafe takes his digits between his lips. "You're dripping, y/n."

"Haven't stopped thinkin' about you since you left."

"Me either, y/n. You're so fuckin' sweet."

"Rafe..." You pout.

"Shit, baby... I forgot what a slut you were for me."

"How could you forget?" You giggle against his lips. "Clothes. Now."

"Mmm... Yes, Mrs. Cameron."

Rafe steps off the bed, tossing his shirt off his built body. You study him carefully as you slink to the edge of the bed. He grasps his belt in his hands, tugging the leather loose. "Let me?" You sigh as you rise, sky-high heels clicking against the wood floor.

Rafe’s eyes continue to roam your curves as you unfasten his top button, splaying his zipper, pulling his slacks down low. He grabs your chin, drawing you up. His blue eyes lock on yours; Rafe’s stare is hungry and deep. His grip is rough. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to let you know he's in control. This is what he wants... What he's craving at this moment, and you are more than happy to oblige.

"You're my good girl. Aren't you, y/n?" He groans, making you wetter.

"Yeah," you sigh.

"Tell me, y/n."

"I'm your good girl, Rafe."

"And you listen to me, and me alone. Don't you, baby girl?" He runs his thumb along your bottom lip, making your heart thump.

"Yes, daddy. Only you."

"Daddy? I love the way you say that, baby.” Rafe pushes you back on the bed. You sit on the plush mattress, looking up at him innocently as you toy with the elastic of his boxers. He gives you a little nod. You take your cue, pulling them off, following his thick cock to the tip, letting it spring free.

"Fuck, Rafe," you sigh, gripping him in your hands, precum glazed on his tip. You quickly swipe your tongue across his swollen head, swirling for good measure.

"Y/n..." He draws out your name as he towers over you, looking down at you with lust-blown eyes. Rafe drops down on one knee— his strong hand lifting your calf, sliding your spike heel off your foot, kissing your leg unhurriedly before working on the next. He's taking his time, savoring every inch of you before dropping the shoe to the floor. You inhale sharply as he hooks his hands around your legs, tugging you to the edge of the bed.

His calloused finger meets your knee, tracing slowly up your thigh. Your breathing starts to quicken, and your lips part. You look between your legs, watching your husband spread your thighs. "Rafe," you moan as he teases your entrance with the tip of his ringed finger.

"Y/n." He draws out your name, working it deep. "Who's pussy is this, baby?"

Fuck.

He dips in another finger, thrusting it in and out... in and out. Your eyes drift back up his body, watching his abs and arms flex with each thrust. Rafe’s eyes greet yours, the most beautiful blue; he lets your gaze linger on his a little longer. He doesn't punish you, rewarding you with a smirk and some pressure on your clit.

"Mmm... Yours," you whimper. "My pussy is yours, daddy."

"It is... Isn't it," he chuckles as you start to rock with him. Rafe drops to his knees, causing you to draw your legs wider. "Fuck. I could cum just lookin' at you, y/n." His tongue meets your pussy, licking a line to your clit, latching on for a momentary, releasing you with a pop. Your head falls back. An airy moan slips your lips. "Remember when we met? You were such a bad girl, y/n." He kisses his way up your stomach, past your ribcage, grabbing and pressing your breasts together. "No one could tell you what to do."

"But you..."

"That's right." Rafe grabs you roughly, pulling you from the bed and drawing you to your feet. His hands work up your body, weaving into your hair, pulling slightly.

"Get on the chair," he whispers against your lips.

"Yes, Rafey." You walk across the room, Rafe, meeting you fast. The man is on you before you can even reach it. His broad chest presses flush with your back, kissing your neck harshly. "Fuck, baby," you whine. He shoves you, causing you to fall forward. You grasp the back of the chair while his strong hands palm your ass under your slutty maid’s costume. Rafe grabs your thong, snapping it against your skin. His hands return to your body, working over your skin, slapping your ass, causing you to groan.

"First time you sucked my cock, we were at Tops place. Remember?” He spreads your ass and spanks you even harder, causing you to cry a little louder. “You were dressed like a Playboy bunny,” Rafe drawls as he grabs himself in his hands, stroking a few times as he takes you in. “You didn’t even take the ears off.”

“You remember?”

“Shit’s burned into my memory, baby,” he sighs as his large hand follows the length of your spine. "You look even better now, sweetheart."

"So do you, baby? We fucked the next night."

"Mhmm… Yeah, we fuckin’ did. Night one. You’re such a good mommy, baby. Who woulda thought you used to be such a whore back in the day. Huh?”

“Mmm… You bring out the slut in me, daddy. You always have.”

“Yeah, baby. That’s right.” Rafe seizes his dick by the base, tapping it against your ass with one hand, using the other to grope your skin."This fucking body, y/n," he moans as he presses his tip into your entrance. "It's just so damn perfect."

"Shit," you hiss as you feel a stretch.

"And these tits." He grabs the straps of your costume, brushing them off your shoulders, pulling it down past your tits. He reaches around, grabbing your breasts as he glides in a little deeper.

"This waist." His hands drift lower, mirroring his words, driving his cock in a little more. "These hips," he grunts, taking hold of them, bottoming you out, causing you to wail.

Rafe draws out slowly. "Baby, please," you sigh, craving more. He thrusts into you again. Your head falls forward. Rafe snaps his hips into you, setting a rapid pace. Skin, cracking skin. He spanks you— a prickling sting is left behind. "More, Daddy," you beg.

"I don't know, baby... Your ass is pretty red," he taunts. "You sure?"

"Yes. Fuck!"

"Atta girl." He slaps you roughly on the other side. You feel his hands wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough that you can feel your pulse. The chill of his rings felt against your skin. Rafe rolls his hips into you, deliciously slow, using his grip as leverage to drive deeper.

His hands push higher, gathering your hair. He tugs your strands, causing you to rise, arching your back. He's unforgiving, pounding into you just like you were craving he would. "Fuck me, y/n," he demands.

"Yes," you moan, using the back of the chair to steady yourself as you fuck him back. Working Rafe in and out of your soaked cunt. You bounce and grind, rolling your hips as Rafe praises you. Your ass claps against his toned hips as you take every inch of his long dick, filling yourself to the brim. "Rafe!" You cry.

"Fuck, y/n. Let me hear you, sweetheart," he rasps.

You lose yourself, fluttering around his cock, gripping his wrists as he takes over, rutting into you quickly. "Fuck, Rafe! Just like that." Pitiful cries pass your lips as he proceeds to wreck you from behind. Rafe doesn't let up till he feels you relax around his cock, your head falling back on his chest as he rocks in and out.

"I missed you so fucking much, daddy," you whimper. Rafe kisses your shoulder gently, working his way up to your ear.

"I missed you more, baby. You're my girl, y/n. You know that? You always have been."

"I'm your girl, Rafe," you pant.

"Does my girl want more?"

"Never stop," you chuckle breathlessly.

"Anything for you, y/n." Rafe thrusts into you roughly, making you fall forward, gripping the chair as you expel a breath. He presses your head against the plush backrest, increasing his tempo. "Ugh... Do you hear that, y/n?" You try to nod. "Mmm... You're so damn wet." He turns you around, pulling you back into his arms. Your kisses are wild and deep as you cross the room to your bed. "Can you taste yourself, y/n?" He mumbles against your lips.

"Yes," you mewl.

"Can you ride me, baby?" He groans.

"Yes, daddy," you sigh blissfully. Rafe falls onto the bed. You slip away before he can grab you; Rafe chuckles darkly, twining his fingers behind his head.

"Couldn't get enough?"

"You're right, baby... I'm sweet," you laugh breathily against his cock, watching as goosebumps spread across his thighs.

You wrap your fingers around his length, licking your slick off, eyes burning into his. "Holy shit, baby," he moans, throwing his head deeper into the pillow. You flick your tongue across his slit, tasting the both of you together. Rafe's hand glides from your bangs to the top of your head, taking a tight hold. He presses you down on his cock, bobbing your head up and down to stroke his throbbing dick.

You can feel Rafe striking the back of your throat, tears pooling in your eyes. You flutter your lashes, feeling your tears run in two little rivers down your cheeks. "Ugh... You're so beautiful, baby," he grunts. His eyes roll back as you drop your hand, rubbing little circles against your clit, moans pouring from your lips between strokes. "Come'mere," he chuckles raspily."We gotta do that later... Please, baby. I need more of that."

Rafe grabs your hips, guiding you on top. You rise on your knees, grabbing Rafe's hand, sucking his fingers, cleaning, circling your tongue around his wedding band. He draws them down to your clit, rolling them gently. "All I could think about when I left the house was you, y/n. I couldn't wait to get home. You make me feel so fucking good, y/n." He gives you a sinful smile as his tongue skimming along his rosy bottom lip.

"You make me feel so good, baby," you breathe, slinking your frame hands up your frame, the skirt still pooled around your hips, boobs bouncing with every movement.

Rafe grips his thick cock in his fist. "All I could think about was seeing you naked, princess. Look at you now. Huh? Never thought I’d get to see you like this… So fuckin’ good to me. You know that?" He slides his tip through your silk, circling his head on your clit. You let out a breathy moan. Rafe's eyes roll back again. "Your little noises and this wet fuckin' pussy." He presses his tip in, and you feel the stretch. "Mmm... Grab the headboard, y/n." You grip it as Rafe takes hold of the small of your waist. He thrusts up into you roughly.

"Rafe!" You cry. He lets out a growl, thrusting into you a few more times for good measure. He relaxes on the bed, beckoning you with his stare. "I want you deep in my pussy, daddy," you sigh, sinking slowly, letting your cunt swallow up his big dick. He sucks a sharp breath, snatching your hips, holding you in place.

Clasping the headboard, you start to circle your curves, rolling and working yourself on his length. "Holy shit, honey," he moans. You can hear yourself—how wet you are for him. Rafe can hear it, too, giving you a little smirk. "Still so wet for me?"

"Sucking your cock always gets me wet, daddy. You know that."

"Fuck, baby."

You reach back, clutching his thighs, bouncing on the mattress, nail sinking into his skin. "Shit. You're deep, Rafe," you whimper.

"So fuckin' deep." You look between your thighs, watching his long cock slicked with you once more. Rafe can feel you tightening around him; he can see the look in your eye. "That's my girl," he rasps. "So fuckin' good for me. Can you wait, baby... Cum when I tell you?"

"Rafe..."

"I thought you listened to me, y/n? Can't you wait, mama?" He chuckles as he applies a little more pressure to your clit.

"Plea-" You stutter as your body quivers uncontrollably.

"Cum." You scream his name as you toss your head back. Your orgasm radiates through your body, making your toes curl, popping off your heels. Rafe continues to thrust as you fall apart. Your muscles tighten around his dick as he works at an insane pace. "Fuck, y/n... That feels so fuckin' good, baby," he moans. "So tight."

He throws you to your back, stepping off the bed, looping his arm under your thighs, pulling you exactly where he wants you, right on the border, before slinging a leg over his shoulder, your heels tumbling the rest of the way off onto the floor. Rafe tips into you, pressing a rough kiss on your lips as he starts to thrust again. His tongue reels with yours. The two of you, utterly exhausted, panting into your kiss.

"Almost there," he mumbles, fighting back his climax to get you on last time. He wraps his arm around your thigh, using that to drive himself deeper.

"S-Shit, Rafe," you stammer. As you feel him strike your g-spot, making your body tremble.

"Again?" He gives you a cocky smile, getting exactly what he wants. You nod rapidly as tears gather in your eyes, overstimulated.

"Can you cum for daddy?"

"Y-Yes. Yes. Shit," you stutter as you grab ahold of the edge of the bed, tossing your head back. Rafe grunts and moans as he thrusts sloppily. Tears fall from your eyes as you close them tightly, your climax claiming your body. A choked cry passes your lips, giving him all you can muster. You feel the warmth of his release, Rafe answering with your name on his lips.

Rafe mounts the bed, pressing a soft kiss against your mouth. His lips drift to your flushed cheeks, kissing away your tears. "I love you, baby. I love you so much," he respires as he holds you close.

"I love you. Never leave me again..." You sigh blissfully.

"I hate leavin' you. But, fuck, do I love comin' home to you, princess." Rafe chuckles as he plays with the costume around your hips, smiling against your lips. “Keep this on for a little while longer. Yeah?”

#my library ᝰ.ᐟ #rafe one shot 𖤐ᝰ.ᐟ𖦹₊⊹#kinktober event .𖥔 ݁ ˖🎃˚. ᵎᵎ #dilf!rafe ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ #older!rafe ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ #rafe smut #rafe #rafe cameron x reader #⋆.°🧸๋ྀི࣭⭑ daddy

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theocxcanonweek · 4 months ago

Text

OC x CANON WEEK 2025! LET'S GO!!

PROMPTS

Day 1. Kiss in the rain/snow Day 2. Intertwined fingers Day 3. Kiss during a sunrise/sunset Day 4. Brushing hair out of the others’ face Day 5. Kiss beneath/amongst the stars Day 6. Hug from behind Day 7. Kiss within foliage/a cityscape Bonus Day: Wiping away tears

DIALOGUE

Day 1. “Promise me!” Day 2. “So, are we official then?” Day 3. “Oooh. You’re so in love with me!” Day 4.“I never imagined I could feel this way…” Day 5. “Take my hand.” Day 6. “Jealous much?” Day 7. “I’d burn the world for you.” Bonus Day; “It was always you!… Always has been. Always will be.”

FASHION

Day 1. Pastels / Monochromatic Day 2. Practical / Avant Garde Day 3. Nautical / Wild West Day 4. Plaid / Sequence Day 5. Steampunk / Cyberpunk Day 6. Floral / Animal Print Day 7. Leather / Lace Bonus Day: Jewels / Chains

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RULES 1. This is a safe for work (SFW) event. We will only be promoting work that is safe for public viewing.

2. Tag us @theocxcanonweek and/or use the hashtag #oc x canon week!

3. Mention which day and prompt(s) you've used, as well as the canonical character(s) involved!

4. You don't have to use all prompts for each day, but you can interpret the prompts however you choose!

5. Even though it's called "OC x Canon Week," self-inserts and personas are also allowed!

6. Anyone and everyone can participate!

7. You can complete this challenge at any date. There is no need to participate every day, and you can do as many or little prompts you want. However, we will only be promoting for this challenge the week of March 17th, 2025.

8. Last of all, have fun! <3

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FAQ

"Do I have to do a prompt from each of the categories listed?"

You can do as many or as little as you like! So, if you wanna do one of each of the categories go right ahead! If you only want to do one in total, that's fine too! No stress here! 💖

"Are polyamorous ships allowed?"

Yup! As long as an oc/insert/persona is included in the ship with canon character(s) then it is welcomed! 💖

"I see OC x Canon Week is on both Tumblr and Twitter. Do I have to participate on both platforms? Or can I just stick to one?"

You can choose whichever platform you prefer to particpate on. You do not have to particpate on both. (However you are welcome to if you so please!~) 💖

"I like this days prompt with another days prompt. Is it alright to mix and match them?"

Yes!! You absolutely are welcome to mixing and matching prompts! The event is about having fun, so pick and choose as you please~ 💖

"I want to create multiple works for one prompt! Is that okay?"

Absolutely!! If you have the ability and engery to do so, then more power to ya!! ✨ We will take as many pieces as you can churn out! (But there is no pressure of course~💖)

"Can I participate with a familial/platontic oc x canon ship?"

While the event does cater to romantic intent, non-romantic ships are welcome to participate as well! 💖

"I found out about the event late!! Can I still participate and submit my work after the event is over?"

Yes! While the event runs for a “week”, there really are no set rules as to when you can participate. It’s all about having fun and spreading awareness for OC x Canon enjoyers!!

The blog will not be as active after the event is over , but I’ll still check in every once in a while to like and reblog what I can. (: Remember to us the hashtag # oc x canon week and tag the account so your work is seen!

"Have you considered running OC x Canon Week on other platforms, like Bluesky, A03, etc?..."

I have but truthfully it's already a huge workload managing the event on both Tumblr and Twitter by myself. If I were to bring it to other platfroms, I would definitely need some assistance. At this point, it's TBD... 🆕Update!! 🆕 We now have a collection on AO3 thanks to @atwstedstory!! 💕 It'll be open for submissions the week of the event! Thank you atwstedstory!! 💖

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Thank you for reading and happy planning!! 💕💕💕

#OC x Canon Week #OC x Canon Week 2025

1K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 7 months ago

Text

Our Little Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: the one that is a series of social posts that journey you and max welcoming your little baby…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 407,291 others

ynusername: if there was a competition for man most obsessed with a baby bump max would definitely win btw

37,027 comments

username1: I can’t cope with how adorable these two are 😭

landonorris: if this is an sos yn just lemme know and I’ll hunt him down 😂

maxverstappen1 @/landonorris excuse me for loving my wife and child 🙄

username2: I just know that seashell heart is absolutely max’s creation!!

lilymhe: can you stop making me want to have a baby pls 🥺

alex_albon: @/lilymhe I can very quickly put a stop to that if you want me to!?

ynusername: @/alex_albon stop being a party pooper and give the girl what she wants 😉

username3: can’t wait to see max become the softest dad in the world…

charles_leclerc: can’t wait for the baby to arrive now, do you think you could tell him to hurry up? 😂

schecoperez: the way he talks about your bump in the garage I couldn’t agree with you more!!

username4: have you ever met a cuter couple in your life???

maxverstappen1: and I couldn’t be prouder too…guilty as charged 🙌🏻

username5: poor max will be lost when the baby arrives and yn’s bump disappears 🥺

danielricciardo: I remember the old days when he used to make breakfast like that for me 💔

ynusername: @/danielricciardo you’re welcome to third wheel anytime 😘

username6: these two are goals and no one can tell me otherwise 😂

carmenmmundt: I am so obsessed with how beautiful you and pregnancy are together ✨

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 3,058,172 others

maxverstappen1: life lately…and I wouldn’t have it any other way 🥺🍼

274,071 comments

username7: all the little outfits…I can’t wait to see him in them 🫠

charles_leclerc: dude you are just gonna be the cutest dad in the world with posts like these

landonorris: does this mean I’m as valuable in your life as your wife and child??

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris I wouldn’t quite stretch that far 😂

username8: ofc lando still ended up making the photo dump 😂

redbullracing: admin is still wondering where all the merch is in that wardrobe???

username9: everything about this makes my heart so incredibly happy ✨

carmenmmundt: I spy the orange baby grow that me and george bought for your baby shower 🥺

username10: pls stop max I can’t cope with all these pending dad photos any longer

username11: someone explain why their son is easily gonna be the best dressed kid in the world

schecoperez: just forgetting racing with your favourite teammate like it’s nothing 😭

username12: can’t wait to see max become a dad, he’s gonna be adorable!!

ynusername: so excited for where life is gonna take us over the next few weeks 💕

maxverstappen1 @/ynusername can’t wait to be by your side every step of the way 💙

georgerussell63: jeez we get it you’re having a baby, you’ve barely mentioned it 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by schecoperez, lewishamilton and 3,802,749 others

maxverstappen1: he’s here and he’s beautiful, couldn’t be prouder of my incredible wife bringing such a little beauty into this world. my heart is fuller than it ever has been before, someone might need to come and pinch me shortly 💕🐣

279,464 comments

redbullracing: congratulations from everyone on the team, we’re so happy for you and yn ❤️💙

username13: omg he’s the cutest - congratulations you two!! 💕

pierregasly: those photos are beautiful, hope you’re enjoying life as a trio already 💞

username14: the little hands. the little smile. the slightly scrunched nose 😭😭😭

landonorris: immediately on my way round for all the baby cuddles in the world!!

username15: I can’t believe he’s here and looks so adorable too!!

georgerussell63: this is the best news ever, can’t wait to see you both when you’re ready for us!!

carmenmmundt: @/ynusername @/georgerussell63 don’t make us wait too long tho I’m itching to meet little one 🐣

schecoperez: can’t wait to meet baby verstappen soon ☺️

username16: the way they’re looking at him in the middle photo, they’re so in love with him!!

danielricciardo: can’t believe the fresh faced kid I bet all those years ago is now a dad 😭

maxverstappen1: @/danielricciardo I feel so old now 💔

lewishamilton: he’s gorgeous, well done mama and congrats both of you!!

username17: pls don’t talk to me for the rest of the day imma just be staring at these photos 🫠

lilymhe: I’ve never screamed so loud in my life when I saw this post 😂

alex_albon: @/lilymhe can confirm the cats are now hiding underneath the bed because of this

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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 583,103 others

ynusername: some new company on our adventures together. that little smile melts me 🫠❤️

42,958 comments

landonorris: I refuse to accept a child as adorable as yours actually came from the max verstappen ❌

username18: look at that proud dad smile omg 💓

carlossainz55: you need to hurry up and bring him to meet us all 😧

iamrebeccad: not often I agree with carlos 😂 but I do about this!!

username19: they knew exactly what they were doing posting that last photo!!

alexandrasaintmleux: you guys are making me seriously want a baby of my own…don’t let charles know that though 😂

charles_leclerc:@/alexandrasaintmleux I can read a public comments section you know

username20: baby fever has suddenly struck me down hard ⚡️

alex_albon: please stop posting cute baby photos before lily screams the apartment down 🙏🏻

ynusername: @/alex_albon can’t help the fact my son is so adorable 🤷🏻‍♀️

username21: how are two people allowed to make such an adorable little human???

oscarpiastri: your son is already smiling better than me and he’s only a few weeks old 😂

username22: I knew they were gonna be a cute mum and dad but I wasn’t prepared for this!!

username23: that lost photo deserves so much more than just a post on insta 😂

maxverstappen1: with a smile like that little man is gonna be a heartbreaker for sure!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 he’s far too young to ever think that far ahead yet 😂

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liked by carlossainz55, ynusername and 3,483,081 others

maxverstappen1: the stages of my life currently, living high on cloud nine. racing for you now my little buddy ⛅️

289,472 comments

username24: my ovaries are gonna burst if we get many more posts like this…

ynusername: asking for a friend…is it too early to already be wanting another one?!

username25: not max calling his son his little buddy, they’re already the best of pals 💞

lilymhe: I cannot stress how much I love the three of you 💕

username26: can’t wait for the day when max takes his son racing, future wdc pending 🥹

landonorris: well this post is just a little bit cute 😭

username27: now that really is what you call living the dream 😂

danielricciardo: now Ik what the fans are like, I feel like I’m stalking you three these days 😂😂

username28: you know the baby is adorable when my eyes are drawn to him and not the delicious stack of pancakes there 🥞

charles_leclerc: there’s not a chance for the rest of us if you’re riding for little man 😂

username29: I’m already excited to see yn and the baby in the paddock cheering for max!!

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liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe and 582,018 comments

ynusername: I think these photos are proof that the two of us are absolutely obsessed and refuse to leave our son alone for more than five minutes 😂💓

52,939 comments

username30: we don’t blame you yn, how could you leave his cute face alone?!

heidiberger_: I’m just as obsessed with the three of you, ily guys ✨

ynusername: @/heidiberger_ can’t wait to see you when you’re home 🥹

username31: now that is the ultimate proud dad smile 😂

landonorris: I remember when you didn’t leave me alone, now you barely reply to any of my texts 💔

username32: these three really are joined at the hip and it’s the sweetest ☺️

maxverstappen1: I’m never gonna stop being head over heels in love with you both 💞

username33: I’m obsessed with you guys just as much btw!!

georgerussell63: I don’t think anyone can fault just how much you love your little man

redbullracing: almost the right shade of blue guys 😂

ynusername: @/redbullracing we’ll do better from now on admin!

username34: the little feet in the middle picture, eurgh I’m becoming soft for babies now landonorris:

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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 592,172 others

ynusername: back to my favourite place with my new favourite little human for company. we’re coming to get you papa ❤️💙

59,371 comments

username35: ahhhh it’s finally happening can’t wait to see all the red bull baby photos 🥳

redbullracing: we can’t wait to welcome you back yn and meet baby verstappen too ❤️

username36: can we all take a moment to appreciate the fact he’s sleeping on the plane!

maxverstappen1: can’t wait to be reunited with my team, see you soon!!

landonorris: if I don’t see you guys this weekend I am gonna throw one almighty tantrum btw 😂😂

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris if we don’t see yn can we make a pact to drive his car off the track on sunday??

username37: red bull better have that baby grow ready for him to change into 🥺

carmenmmundt: shut up I’m at the race this weekend, sorry george but I’m leaving you for the weekend now 🥳

username38: max you better win this week so we can get baby celebrations and a podium

schecoperez: max has made sure the garage is perfect for you both…multiple times 😂

ynusername: @/schecoperez I didn’t expect anything less hahah

username39: pls fans and paps make sure you give them the privacy they deserve 🙏🏻

danielricciardo: just remember who looked after you when you first came to f1 and who would like a baby cuddle too 😇

ynusername: @/danielricciardo there’s no way I’m forgetting about you this weekend 🫶🏻

username40: thank you for always blessing us with such adorable baby photos yn 😍

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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

2K notes · View notes

aelinad · 6 months ago

Text

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,

Love the story? ☕ Support me on Ko-fi! 💕 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it that obvious?” I facepalmed myself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Use me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great, this is going to be a long night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ouch,” I muttered, rubbing my head.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Can’t confirm or deny.”

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

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

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

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

“You wouldn’t dare…”

“Scared, Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, sure…”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, don’t worry.”

***

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

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

Namjoon: It was a close call earlier

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

Namjoon: Jimin helping you and being all touchy

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

Namjoon: You need to play hard to get.

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

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

“Fine,” I muttered.

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

His only reply was a single red heart.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve been busy, as you can see…”

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

“Right… Okay, go on with the show.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, figured it out yet?” he asked.

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

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

“Ay ay, captain.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, first shot: everyone smile!”

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

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

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

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

But it didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I miss anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It felt like time had frozen for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, feel better," Jimin added.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So... you mean... you did that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then let go,” I whispered.

“Y/N, I’m about to—”

“Me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feels pretty real to me,” Namjoon replied.

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

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

I let out a laugh. “Confident? Maybe,” I said, grinning. “But I’d say you were pretty eager to prove yourself.”

“Oh, is that so?” he asked, his voice low and playful, as his fingers continued to trace gentle patterns along my hand. “Sounds to me like you enjoyed every second.”

I bit my lip, raising a brow. “I don’t know, Mr. Kim. You may have to convince me again.”

Namjoon’s eyes sparkled, his hand slipping around my waist, pulling me a little closer. “Careful, Y/N. If you keep teasing me, I might just have to make it my mission to remind you all day,” he murmured, his lips hovering close to mine, a playful challenge lighting up his gaze.

I smirked, raising an eyebrow. “How about I take charge today instead?”

A flicker of curiosity sparked in his eyes, and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the idea. Instead, he leaned back slightly, watching me with a smirk of his own as I moved even closer, letting the suggestion linger between us.

We were still both very much naked from last night, with only the sheet draped over us. I shifted slightly, lifting myself just enough to reach toward his nightstand on my left, remembering from last night that this was where he kept the condoms, or at least, I was pretty sure that’s where they were. Namjoon’s smirk deepened as he watched me, clearly intrigued. "Oh, I’m all yours," he murmured, his tone full of invitation. He leaned back further against the headboard, keeping his arms folded behind his head, completely giving in to the moment.

As I inched closer, I took my time, savouring the way his eyes never left mine, his gaze filled with a mix of amusement and anticipation. I slowly opened the wrapper, letting the silence hang between us, thick with tension and a playful edge. His breathing grew just a little heavier, betraying his calm facade. His cock hard and dripping already as I slid the wrapper over him.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying the view,” I teased, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder as I positioned myself just above him.

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Well, you’re making it hard not to.” He raised an eyebrow, letting his gaze roam over me. I smirked, letting my fingers trail slowly down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. "Oh, am I?" I whispered, tilting my head as I looked at him, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Because I could always take my time... really draw this out. Make you wait."

Namjoon’s gaze darkened, his smirk widening as he tried to keep his composure. “You think I’d let you get away with that?” he murmured, but there was a challenge in his tone that only encouraged me.

I leaned in, letting my lips brush against his neck, my breath warm against his skin. "I don’t think you’re in any position to stop me, actually," I teased, pressing a few light kisses along his jaw, my hands tracing down his sides, deliberately slow.

A low chuckle escaped him, and he tilted his head slightly to give me more access, his hands resting on my hips but making no move to stop me. “Careful,” he whispered, his voice soft but intense. “I might just lose my patience.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to wait and see how long you can hold out,” I replied, brushing my lips just over his, close enough to feel the warmth, but keeping just enough distance to keep him guessing. I held his gaze, letting a playful smile spread across my lips as I positioned myself, teasingly closer. Leaning in, I pressed my body against his, letting him feel the warmth but still holding back. I could feel his hands tighten around my waist as his breathing grew heavier, his gaze intense with anticipation and just a hint of frustration.

Slowly, I sank down, letting him feel the barest hint of contact, then just as quickly lifted myself back up, watching his reaction. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing with a mix of desire and impatience. “You’re really testing me here,” he muttered, his voice rough, a little desperate.

I smiled at his frustration, feeling the power shift in my favour as I teased him further. "Oh, but I like watching you squirm," I whispered, my voice light, yet dripping with the tension of the moment. I lowered myself just enough to feel the brush of him against me, but pulled away before it could escalate.

Namjoon let out a frustrated groan, his hands gripping my hips with an intensity that bordered on desperate. His eyes were burning with need, and I could see the control he was trying to maintain slipping away. "Y/N... please..." His voice was rough, almost pleading, and it sent a thrill through me.

I raised an eyebrow, enjoying the way he was unravelling before me. "Please what?" I teased, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered the words.

He froze for a moment, a conflicted look crossing his features before he finally let out a frustrated breath. "Please, don't make me beg," he muttered, his voice thick with want. "I can't take much more of this."

The challenge in his tone only made me smile wider. "Oh, but I think you can," I murmured, my fingers tracing his jawline as I leaned in close again, lips barely brushing his. "Beg for it, Namjoon."

The raw edge of his voice when he finally responded—"Please, Y/N, I need you..."—was all the confirmation I needed. The desperation in his eyes, the way his body tensed and trembled beneath me, made it impossible to resist. I slowly lowered myself once more, this time not pulling away.

When I sank down, both of us moaned in unison, the sound filling the air between us. I started moving up and down, the rhythm slow at first, but I could feel Namjoon trying to hold back his moans, his control slipping. He couldn't contain it anymore, and he began moaning my name, deep and desperate.

“Y/N…”

“Yeah?” I barely replied, my voice a whisper.

“I am yours, Y/N…”

The sound of it sent a rush of heat through me, and I found myself doing the same, moaning his name as I picked up the pace, moving faster and more urgently. He tightened his grip on my hips, his fingers digging in as he helped me move faster, the thrusts harsher now, each one more powerful than the last. His lips travelled down my neck and chest, and he began to play with my breasts, his kisses trailing down my body, sending waves of pleasure through me. My hands ran down his back, nails lightly scratching his skin as he groaned into me, his body pressing harder against mine.

He groaned my name again, the sound low and desperate, making my body tremble in response. I could feel the heat building inside of me, the pleasure spiralling with every move. I arched into him, feeling his teeth graze my skin, the sensation causing my legs to shake.

My hands roamed up to his hair, tugging him closer, pulling him into a kiss that was as urgent as everything else between us. His tongue met mine, hungry and demanding. The heat between us was unbearable now, the tension mounting, and I could feel myself getting closer to the edge with every passing second.

“You’re in control, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Take what you want.”

His mouth was parted, a low growl escaping him as he groaned, his eyes dark with need.

“God, Y/N, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, his fingers digging into my skin. “Don’t stop, don’t slow down.”

I leaned down, pressing my chest against his, our lips brushing together briefly before I lifted myself again, the sensation of him filling me overwhelming. His hands slid to my back, pulling me closer, pressing me into him as he thrust up in time with my movements, making me gasp.

“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Namjoon breathed out. “I can’t... I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Say my name,” I whispered, my voice sultry as I rode him even faster.

“Y/N!” Namjoon gasped, his body trembling beneath me. “Y/N, please… don’t stop.”

The desperation in his voice made me smile, and I pushed myself to go even faster, each thrust more powerful than the last. I could feel myself getting closer, the pressure in my lower stomach tightening as I moved with him, both of us chasing that inevitable release. “Fuck, Y/N… I’m so close…” Namjoon groaned, his hands gripping my ass harder, his body arching into mine as he kept me in place, him buried deep inside, grinding back and forth, stimulating my clit with every move. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to keep his composure.

“Me too,” I panted, my voice breathless as I leaned down to kiss him, our lips crashing together in a desperate, hungry kiss. I kept riding him, faster now, each motion pushing us both closer to the edge. “Don’t stop, Namjoon... keep going...”

“I won’t,” he muttered, his voice rough, his hands pressing me down onto him harder, pushing us both to the brink. “Fuck, Y/N... I’m going to...”

His body tensed beneath me, and I felt the tight coil inside me snap as I let out a low moan, the pleasure rushing through me, making my vision blur for a moment. Namjoon followed right after, his grip tightening on me as he groaned my name, his release overwhelming him.

We both collapsed, breathless and spent, our bodies still tangled together, as the tension finally eased, leaving us in the aftermath of everything. I rested against his chest, trying to catch my breath, his heart still pounding beneath my ear.

"God," he whispered softly, his fingers gently running through my hair, his voice hushed but full of satisfaction. "That was... incredible."

I smiled, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the quiet settle between us as we tried to slow our breathing. ***

After, we showered together, the water cascading down our bodies, we shared a peaceful silence, the steam fogging up the bathroom. There was an unspoken comfort between us, the quiet intimacy of helping each other wash our bodies. The moments that would normally feel awkward or rushed felt so natural with him, every touch between us a wordless connection that I hadn't realised I was craving.

When we finally stepped out, the warmth of the room met our damp skin, and I reached for a towel, drying my hair as Namjoon looked at me with that familiar concern.

"Let me help you with your hair," he said softly, stepping closer.

I gave him a playful smile, brushing the towel through my hair. “It’s fine, Namjoon. I got it,” I reassured him, wanting to do it myself since I knew it would take a while to dry.

He chuckled, clearly not ready to stop being helpful. “Okay, then how about I make us some coffee? You probably need it after all that…” His words trailed off with a grin, but there was a hint of awkwardness in his tone, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to go from here.

“Sounds good,” I said, reaching for one of his shirts hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was oversized, the fabric soft and warm as I pulled it over my head, a small comfort against my still-damp skin. It felt right, almost like it was meant for me.

As Namjoon turned toward the kitchen, I couldn’t help but linger for a moment, watching him walk away. His broad shoulders and the way his muscles flexed with each step had my heart racing. I felt this undeniable pull to him, and the shirt I wore only made me feel closer, more connected to him. It was like I was already a part of his world, and that realisation made me smile, despite the growing rush in my chest.

I entered the kitchen, stopping in front of him to get his attention. The sight of me in his shirt, with nothing but my bare legs showing, made him freeze for a second. His eyes darkened, and the intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore. He swallowed hard, the breath hitching in his throat as he looked me up and down, as if trying to decide whether he could keep his composure or if he was going to lose himself.

Before I could say anything, he stepped toward me, and with one swift motion, he lifted me up onto the kitchen counter, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was desperate and full of hunger. “You look so good in my shirt…” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and raspy. “I don’t think I can get enough of you.”

His hands roamed to my waist, pulling me closer and I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, the heat between us escalating in an instant. But just as things started to get more heated, the sound of a phone ringing broke through the thick tension in the room. I pulled away just slightly, eyes narrowing as I tried to figure out whose phone it was. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath. It could’ve been Jungkook, or worse, my sister. Neither of them had heard from me since I’d come back here with Namjoon, and I knew they’d be worried by now. We hadn’t texted them about anything, not even letting them know I was still here.

Namjoon, looking just as frustrated at the interruption, gave me a brief kiss on the forehead before pulling away. “I’ll grab our phones,” he said, his voice heavy with need but also that underlying concern for what was going on outside the bubble we’d created for ourselves.

I slid back down from the counter, standing with my legs shaky from the intensity of our kiss. Namjoon went to grab the phones from the living room, and I quickly adjusted my shirt, feeling the sudden awkwardness of the situation hit me.

Namjoon returned with both phones in hand, and I glanced at the screen of mine, seeing the name that immediately caused my stomach to flip, my sister. I let out a deep breath before answering, holding the phone to my ear while my eyes stayed locked on Namjoon, who was now back at the counter, making coffee as though nothing had happened.

"Hey," I said into the phone, trying to sound casual, but there was a slight quiver in my voice that betrayed me.

“Y/N, are you still at Namjoon’s?” My sister’s voice was laced with concern. “I’ve been calling, texting, you didn’t answer any of my messages. We were getting worried!”

I glanced at Namjoon again, and his eyes were on me. There was no judgement, just an understanding in his gaze.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, speaking into the phone while my eyes never left Namjoon. I couldn’t help but smile at the way he moved about the kitchen so casually, so unaffected by what we’d just experienced. “I’m still at Namjoon’s, okay? I promise, I’ll explain everything later.”

My sister didn’t sound fully convinced, but she let out a small sigh. “Alright, just call me when you’re back. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I will,” I assured her, hanging up after a brief exchange of more pleasantries. I looked over at Namjoon, who had just finished making the coffee and was now smiling coming towards me. His smile was effortless, revealing his adorable dimples, and there was a warmth in his gaze that deepened with every moment we shared. As I stood there, the realisation slowly crept in that everything was finally falling into place. Soon, we'd have to explain everything to the group, the fake dating, the misunderstandings, and everything that led us to this point. Sure, some details would be left out, things that didn’t need to be said, but it no longer mattered. What mattered now was what we had here, right in this moment, real, unfiltered, and undeniable.

With Namjoon, everything felt authentic. There was no pretending, no uncertainty. For the first time, I didn’t have to second-guess myself or him. I was falling for him in a way I hadn’t expected, and this time, it wasn’t for show. It wasn’t a story we were playing out for anyone else. This was real. This was ours. And as I stood there with him, I knew that this was the beginning of something new, something I never wanted to let go of.

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luvluu · 4 months ago

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Hello I hope you're having a good day I have a request for Chishiya, we visit him in the hospital after the whole Shibuya incident

Lillies… Shuntaro Chishiya

A/N: this is my first request and I’m so excited but scared omfg😭 so I hope you liked this because I rlly did! I feel like it has a lot of backstory but I hope you like it idk(I’m nervous ok?)

Please leave more request because they make me so happy idk why(love you all sm😭💕)

————

Shuntaro Chishiya x reader

Fluff❤️‍🩹

TW: insults.

WORDS: 900

REQUESTED: YES/NO

————

It had been months since you had a meal with your friends. You and Chishiya had been very busy lately agreeing on all the details of your wedding, which was to be held in December. Ever since you were very little, you had always dreamed of getting married at Christmas, with a white dress/suit to match the color of the surrounding snow.

Chishiya, on the other hand, had never had much interest in getting married, nor had he had much interest in love. His dreams were not related to having another person, but that changed when he met you. He knew how excited you were about getting married and although he had never thought about it, seeing himself together with you for the rest of your lives was something he didn't want to pass up.

It was during the spring festival. You and Chishiya went to a park, to a part a little out of the way of practically everyone. The pink petals were falling on your heads and you were looking around in delight, Chishiya knew that you always had a soft spot for that festival, you loved to see the city turn pink.

You were standing next to him, talking about how beautiful you found the scene when Chishiya knelt down in front of you and took a small box out of his pocket.

“Would you grant me the honor of spending the rest of my life with you?”

You were a tearful mess, not even bothering to try on the ring as you bent down and hugged him tighter than ever.

You were talking to one of your friends when a call came in. At first you didn't answer, it was probably the wedding ambassador asking for the seventh time in a week what kind of flowers you were going to want; but after persistence, you decided to answer.

“Are you the fiancée of Mr. Shuntaro Chishiya?” Someone asked behind the phone, you frowned quizzically.

“Yes, yes, it's me” you affirmed, moving a little away from your friends to speak more calmly.

“I'm calling from Tokyo hospital, your fiancé has been urgently admitted due to a meteorite that has affected the entire Shibuya neighborhood.”

No, it wasn't possible. You guys didn't even live near that neighborhood, what was Chishiya doing there, was he okay? Your mind clouded with negative thoughts. You weren't ready to lose the love of your life, no one was, but you... you just couldn't, not so few days before your wedding.

Without even saying anything to your group of friends, you got in your car and drove as fast as you could. The streets were in chaos. The road was full of cars, all on their way to the hospital while you could see smoke coming out of the Shibuya neighborhood.

It took you almost an hour to get to the hospital, an hour in which all you could think about was whether Chishiya was well. You were afraid that it was too late and that when you arrived you would be given the news that he had not held on long enough and had already died, but you refused to believe it.

You rushed into the hospital, more desperate than ever, and asked at the front desk about the room. Not bothering to wait for the elevator, you walked up seven floors and carefully opened the door.

Chishiya was in a shared room. There was a black-haired boy with half of his face covered lying on the bed next to Chishiya's. Your fiancé seemed relatively calm. He had that usual calm expression, as if he hadn't been on the verge of death.

“Shuntaro” you whispered with relief to see him safe and sound. “Shuntaro” you said now in a louder tone. Both men turned to look at you. You circled around another boy's bed until you reached Chishiya's and knelt beside the bed, hugging him tightly and shedding tears on his chest. “You scared me to death.” You felt his arms wrap around you and stroke your hair.

“You're overreacting...” he laughed lightly, you looked up to meet his eyes.

“Shut the fuck up...” you said, hugging him again. You clung to him as if he was the only thing that mattered to you. "What were you doing there? You asked in a broken voice, looking into his eyes, which were duller than normal.

“I think I want Lilies at our wedding...” he said, intertwining his hand with yours.

“You're an idiot.” You said and he wiped away your tears with his free hand. He moved to the side and you lay with him on the small hospital gurney.

Chishiya didn't remember why, but holding you in his arms again comforted him, as if he had been wanting to do it for months. He didn't remember, but if he won every game in Borderland he did it so he could go home to his fiancée.

“Chishi…” you whispered, feeling his hand stroking your hair.

“What?” He asked in a soft tone, keeping you as if you were made of glass.

“I love you.” He kissed you in the head as he heard your words.

“Love you more”

You couldn’t imagine a life without Chishiya, but he had to spend two months without even knowing if he would ever see you again. You would die without Chishiya, but he survived only because of you.

#aib chishiya #aib imagine #alice in borderland #chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #chishiya x you #nijiro murakami #alice in boderland x reader #aib x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader

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novthirty · 1 month ago

Text

🐦‍⬛ OUT OF BOUNDS — you get isekai-d into the n109 zone [chapter two]

synopsis — the monotony of your university days is interrupted by a stroke of misfortune, one which lands you in the world of love and deepspace, the game you had been casually playing for the previous months. with no way to return home, sylus offers you the job of being his personal secretary. — a continuation of the one-shot “out of bounds”

pairing — sylus x non-mc! reader

tags — reader is not mc, isekai/transmigration, fluff, angst, mutual pining, slice of life, boss/employee relationship, slow burn

a/n — this chapter did not come easily to me</33 finals has been kicking my ass but i’m near the finish line at least!! for now here is a plate of teeth rotting fluff with a side of pining 💕 taking my time to develop their relationship, since it would take a lot for sylus’s heart to be swayed by someone other than the mc. but of course we’ll be back to the full angst by the next chapter ☺️☺️

ao3 | masterlist | requests are open! series masterlist | part one | part three

chapter two: pendulum— spring blooms even in the barren cityscape of the n109 zone, and before you know it, you’ve carved yourself a place in sylus’s life. but like a pendulum stuck in perpetual motion, the two of you swing back and forth— growing closer and retreating with every movement. wc: 6.8k

The arrival of spring marks four months since you stormed into Sylus’s life, upheaving everything in your path. From the moment you quite literally landed in his world, you had been a wildcard— blindsiding him at every turn. But the first time you intentionally surprise him comes when the clock strikes twelve on April 18, and he enters his office to find a cake on his desk. Decorated in black and maroon frosting, it’s lined with edible glitter and topped with his name in crooked cursive, and a crow-shaped candle, to boot. He takes a swipe— it’s a hint of cranberry and… wine?

Moments after, you stride in from behind with Luke and Kieran, carrying gifts and wearing patterned party hats, singing a terribly off-key rendition of the birthday song.

“Happy birthday, Sylus! Make a wish!”

He blows the candles and makes a wish. (There’s only ever been one thing he’s truly desired.)

“Do you like the cake? The chefs helped me decorate it!” You say as you slice it into even triangles, giving him the largest piece.

Luxurious as his precious office may be, it’s still a tight fit with the whole Onychinus family crammed inside. Luke and Kieran occupy the side chairs while you’re perched on his desk with Mephisto on your shoulder, wearing his own red party hat. (The crow stares menacingly at the crow-shaped candle left to the wayside.) You’re sitting right in his periphery, and his eyes drag downward from your oversized sweater, down to your exposed thighs clad in only shorts. His cheeks heat up and he averts his gaze, glad that you’re all too caught up in conversation to notice.

You hop off the desk once you clear your plate, clapping your hands together, “It’s present time!”

Luke and Kieran are dramatically solemn as they hand over their present, wiping away a fake tear, “We battled against hundreds of bidders to secure this for our beloved boss.”

Sylus takes the thin present, crudely wrapped with a cartoonish dinosaur paper, unravelling it to discover a vinyl record. A vintage edition, the last one missing from his collection of a late artist, one that you had likened to someone named Frank Sinatra whenever he would play it on the office sound system.

“It’s acceptable,” He says, but the twins have been with him enough to know that it’s Sylus language for ‘Thank you for this amazing gift, I will treasure it until my dying days.’ Or at least, that’s what they tell themselves as they dramatically jump in joy.

He initially didn’t expect you to bring a present— although with your personality, he should’ve known you’d be appalled at the idea of coming empty-handed. Throughout the celebration, his eyes are immediately drawn to your uncharacteristic nervousness, which you hide well under the veneer of a joyous mood. But he can spot you fidgeting with the strings of the ribbon, the way you hesitantly place the gift on his desk. It unnerves him to see your usual force of nature dimmed, looking like a scolded puppy with your tail low and eyes sheepish.

The package is thick and lumpy in his hand, yet perfectly wrapped with a ribbon to top it off. (You wouldn’t have stood for anything less.) He delicately undoes the ribbon, carefully unwrapping the gift to find a soft knitted cardigan, with a embroidered patch of a crow sewn onto the breast pocket.

“Did you make this yourself?” He asks, looking back up at you.

“Yeah,” You answer, shifting hesitantly from your spot on the desk.

You don’t have a lot to your name in this world, and for a man like Sylus— who can summon nearly anything he desires with a snap of his fingers— there wasn’t a whole lot you could give. So instead, you resorted to your knitting needles, pouring your heart and effort into every stitch using some of the softest yarn you knew of (which took several spools of, considering his size, and made a significant dent in your wallet). But the days leading up to the surprise celebration still wracked you with nerves. Would it look too frumpy on him? Would it look too simple? Would a man who prefers opulence even appreciate such a simple gift?

But Sylus runs his fingers carefully over each delicate stitch, unable to comprehend how every inch of this cardigan was made with your own bare hands. People will bend over backwards to earn his favor, but no one has ever put so much genuine effort and care just to make him happy, on such a measly event as a birthday, no less.

He doesn’t know what to say as you await his reaction, caught off guard by the heartwarming gesture you’ve just given him. And so, he ends up detracting, “How did you get my measurements?” He narrows his eyes at you mischievously.

He spots the tick of your eyebrow as your face morphs from nervousness into annoyance. “I send in orders for your replacement clothes when they get ruined on missions,” His eyes dance with mischief as he looks away in mock skepticism. “What's that look for? How do you think I got them?!” It turns into banter— as it always does between the two of you— but inwardly, you feel relief when he wears the cardigan immediately.

The celebration is a silly endeavor that lasts no more than an hour before he kicks everyone out of his office. But try as he might, he can’t wipe the grin off his face for the rest of the day— nor does he take off the cardigan.

When May comes, you rope him into the preparations for Luke and Kieran’s birthday. Due to your incessant nagging, he’s since downloaded your shared digital calendar— complete with monthly, weekly, daily, and hourly agendas— and chosen to ignore it. “The calendar exists for you to be on time,” You seethe whenever he steps into his office late, the little shit smirking as if you didn’t just rearrange his schedule to hell and back for that one hour-long meeting he missed. However, that doesn’t mean he’s exempt from any festivities you enforce upon the household.

The twins’ celebration is a significantly more chaotic affair than his, involving a two tiered cake and a booking for a laser tag arena. The event is more so you and Sylus babysitting the two hellions as they wreak havoc upon the civilians unfortunate enough to encounter them. It ends with a trip to the medical ward and a formal apology to the owner of the arena. But despite the casualties, it’s the most fun Luke and Kieran have had since they joined Onychinus. (Fun that wasn’t self-orchestrated, at least).

Your presence brings a liveliness to his found family, something that grounds you all in this high-paced line of work. A presence that, little by little, seeps into his life to the point he can no longer imagine living without it.

—————————————————————

“Is this payback for nagging you too much?” You huff after squeezing yourself into another ruffled monstrosity.

He lounges on the plush sofa like it’s his throne, swirling a glass of wine in his hands as he watches your suffering like live entertainment. He belongs here, you think, surrounded by opulence and marbled floors. A dragon surrounded by treasures.

As if it wasn’t enough that you make sure his life keeps running smoothly, Sylus recently enlightened you with the task of accompanying him to the next protocore auction. With your closet still bare of anything other than essentials, you tried to beg off the event with the excuse of having nothing to wear— only for him to drag you to a fancy boutique. You should’ve expected it from the rich bastard. “If you don’t want to go, you can just tell me. No need to make excuses,” He drawled. “It's not like you have a choice either way, Miss Secretary.”

Being raised in a middle-class household, your eyes widened at the array of extravagant dresses brought out for your perusal. The fanciest place you had been to up until now was the chain seafood restaurant down the block from your family home. The staff led you to a private dressing room, where you were now trying on a number of lavish dresses and shoes.

“Slave driver,” You cursed him under your breath, as you strapped yourself into another pair of heels behind the curtain.

“No one's forcing you to wear heels,” He calls from the lounging area, hearing your struggle. “With me by your side, you could wear pajamas and no one would dare say a word.”

You stood up, balancing yourself on the thin heel and peeking out the curtain to glare at him, “I have willpower. If you’re dragging me to a fancy auction I will not look unprofessional next to you.”

He rolls his eyes, “Sure, darling. Whatever you say.”

You muttered that to yourself for the next hour or so, I have willpower! as you tried on a number of ridiculously uncomfortable (especially for how expensive they were) garments. You believed yourself a little less with each one.

Eventually, you settle on an elegant black dress, a practical and comfortable choice that would fit multiple occasions. He insists that you could have chosen something more extravagant; but considering this was on Sylus’s card, you didn’t want to push your luck with the price tags. He goes to the cashier to pay as you’re changing, only for you to come out to thrice the number of bags.

“This is not… just the dress and heels I tried on,” Your shoulders tense, peering into the bags and spotting the other pieces you mentioned liking, as well as more luxurious everyday items you never even glanced at, considering the purpose of your trip here was for formal wear.

“I figured it would be practical. This won’t be the last event you’ll be accompanying me to, after all,” You internally withered as he smirked at you knowingly, “Besides, you did say your closet was looking bare, hm? Let's fix that.”

What you thought would be a quick trip turns into hours as he insists on buying you new clothes. “Everyone employed under Onychinus has a uniform budget,” He reasons with you.

For mission gear and weapon repairs, you want to retort. You narrow your eyes every time you come out of the changing room to see twice the number of things you initially picked out. Your discomfort only grows with each stop, every shopping bag serving as a reminder of the exorbitant costs.

By the time you get back to the compound, you intentionally look away from any receipts for your own peace of mind, instead getting to the pile of work waiting for you at home. (Home. When did this place become home?) Memorizing important guests and clients, researching proper etiquette, learning enough about protocores to not seem like a total fool at Sylus’s side. “I'm a liberal arts student, I wasn’t built for this shit,” You mutter as you flip through scientific records that look like a foreign language. You miss when protocores were just colored shapes that made your team overpowered.

Even with all the preparation you’ve done, you still find yourself wracked with nerves on the day of the auction. Though, you think you’re doing a good job of hiding it, sipping wine at Sylus’s side as he peruses the various protocores on display. Fortunately, you haven’t had to do much talking; your role so far has been taking notes and pulling up important documents when needed.

You feel out of place in the lavish ballroom, but then again, you feel out of place in this world in general. You manage to mingle and socialize with the contacts you’re familiar with, but as the hours pass you start regretting your choice of footwear. Sylus, of course, notices. “Let's take a break,” He says halfway through the night. You follow him to a lounging room, taking a seat as he leaves to grab drinks, when a man approaches you.

You vaguely know of him, having communicated with him— or rather, his secretary— through emails on official Onychinus business before. It’s a light conversation, he asks you where you’re from, why you’re here. You can tell his intentions by the way he leans forward, eyes glittering as his cologne invades your senses (You desperately try not to breathe in the overpowering scent). You decide to indulge him as you wait for Sylus to return; he seems nice enough, after all.

Right until you mention that you’re Sylus’s secretary. All of a sudden, his gaze turns steely and derisive— as if you’re no longer a prize to be won, but something beneath him. His compliments turn into insinuations of your character, “Some people really know how to… position themselves, huh?” He shamelessly takes a step closer, a lecherous grin on his face, “Maybe you should start thinking about who to… align with next.”

You’ve never been a hot-headed person. But standing here, being belittled at what’s supposed to be a formal, respectable occasion, is not something your parents ever taught you to tolerate. “Excuse me, but that is extremely rude and I'd like for you to leave this table,” You respond coldly. “My boss will be returning any time soon.”

This only fuels his disparaging comments, your fist tightening against the table as he continues to degrade you to your face. Behind the two of you, Sylus overhears everything. His fist tightens around the stem of his glass as he marches over, prepared to strike it against his head— but as always, you never fail to surprise him at every turn.

It takes one more crude comment to break the camel’s back; a woman can only have so much patience. You grab his glass and throw the wine in his face, his expression morphing into one of disbelief and anger. “Leave me alone before I find something else to throw at your face,” You spat.

The scene attracts attention from the other guests in the room as the man curses at you, pulling a gun out of his left pocket. You step back, heart bursting out of your chest at the sight of the weapon.

Before he can even aim, Sylus has already stepped in, grabbing the pistol with one hand and his neck with the other. “Ah, here I was thinking that the rules clearly stated no weapons,” His grip tightens as the man chokes in his grip, “Lucky for me, I only need my fists.”

Though it may have been lifetimes ago, Sylus's draconic tendencies still show through his temper— and less often, his desire to protect. The moment this rat intended to hurt you, his vision turned red and his fists were no longer under his control.

It takes your pleas to stop and Sylus nearly strangling the man before security steps in, called by passing onlookers who’d observed the entire incident. The man was powerful and could have gotten away with threats, maybe even plain murder, if only it weren’t Sylus that he crossed. “An insult to her is an insult to me,” He admonishes the organizers as they bow in apology after the whole ordeal. All the while, you’re shrinking underneath the piercing gazes of those who witnessed the events unfold.

The incident is enough for him to call it a night. You breathe a sigh of relief as you step outside. Though you were shivering inside the air-conditioned ballroom, the balmy air now brushes against your skin, summer humidity taking its course after a fleeting spring. Your heels clack against the pavement, feet dragging with every aching step as your new heels haven’t broken in yet. Sylus had forgone his usual motorcycle and had a private driver bring the two of you to the event, but with your early departure, you were left to walk aimlessly around Linkon City as you wait for the car.

“The event was rather disappointing, really.” He languidly commented, as if he didn’t nearly strangle a man blue.

“No shit, considering you beat someone up.” You huffed, crossing your arms and walking ahead of him. “You've been eyeing one of the protocores on their display for a while. Now your plans have been derailed—“

“Darling, if they’re not competent enough to screen their guests properly, then they have no business selling protocores.”

“But still, this man is your business associate,” Your brows furrow as you rub your forearms, goosebumps forming from the breeze passing by. “This incident is going to cause you unnecessary trouble.”

His footsteps stop, and you turn around to face him— an uncharacteristically solemn look on his face as he takes off his jacket and drapes it across your shoulders. He says your name, “He pulled a gun on you. Do not think I won't prioritize your safety above my business ventures.” The man wasn’t even worth using his evol for, succumbing pathetically to his mere grip. His lost partnership is nothing to Onychinus.

You shuffle your feet guiltily, drowning in the oversized blazer. Sylus offers his arm to you, “Come on. Let’s find somewhere to eat, shall we?”

You take refuge at a family-owned diner a few blocks down, the smell luring you in with the promise of greasy food. The two of you stick out like a sore thumb, with your floor-length dress and his suit, as some of the only customers left in the last hour before closing. The analog television in the corner drones with some football game, as you and Sylus feast on burgers and milkshakes after a night of experimental hors d’oeuvres you couldn’t even pronounce.

You’re dead at your feet, too weary to care much about your surroundings since you left the venue. To your surprise, it’s Sylus who breaks the silence, “I apologize for what happened earlier.” You look up in surprise, “You’ve been silent for the better part of the night, I didn’t realize it bothered you this greatly.”

The guilt slowly crept up on him, seeing how shaken you were after the incident. He forgets sometimes, that not everyone has been exposed to the dangers of his world. You were a civilian— and not only that, a good person. Soft and averse to violence in a way he never had the privilege to be. Though you may work for him now, it was only from the safety of the Onychinus compound, shielded from the darker elements of his job.

You smile wearily, “I'm just tired, don’t worry.” You set your burger down and fiddle with your hands, “To be honest… it did bother me. I've always been taught that violence should be a last resort, to only use as much force as the situation demands.

“But you’re right. There's a lot I don't understand about this world… but I know that if you’d stepped in a moment later, it could’ve gone much worse.” There’s more to the N109 Zone than the storyline you’d grown familiar with in your world, or the distant image you’ve formed from the safety of Sylus’s office. Like it or not, this would be your home for the foreseeable future, and you can’t live on the same moral framework you once did.

He smirks, “And what would I have done without my dearest secretary?”

You raise your milkshake snootily, “Crash and fall apart, of course.”

It eases into light banter after that, something more familiar to the both of you. At some point, you even accidentally spill sauce onto his blazer still laying atop your shoulders. “Oops, sorry,” You apologize without an inch of remorse in your voice.

He’s quick to retort, “Ah yes, my designer blazer of which there were only five made in production.”

You roll your eyes and drone sarcastically, “Oh no, the millionaire stained his limited edition jacket, boo hoo.”

“I’d like you to know—” He starts again after taking a bite of his burger, looking comically serious despite the small crumb by his cheek. You suppress the urge to wipe it off for him. “—as much as I admire your courage to stand up to a man a head taller than you, I'd rather you not throw drinks at crime lords unless I'm by your side. Not even my name could protect you if he pulled out that gun even a moment earlier.”

Though he’s managed to keep you relatively out of the spotlight, after tonight, there was bound to be more eyes on you. As much as his name affords you power and protection, it also paints a target on your back. He appreciates that you don’t stand for that kind of disrespect, but he will always put his foot down when your safety is on the line.

You take a deep breath in, looking out the window to the soft streetlights and the clear stars of a summer night. “That was really reckless of me, I know that. I appreciate that you came to my defense, and I won't do it again. It’s just that…” You turn to face him once again, giving a lighthearted shrug, “Sometimes, this whole world still feels like a dream to me. That my actions won’t matter in the end, no consequences. That any moment now, I'll wake up, and…”

You trail off. You like to avoid that train of thought when you can.

“Your presence is more important than you think,” He mutters your name. Not Miss Secretary, not darling or dear, but your name. “So, you can’t disappear on me anytime soon.” I still need you around, goes unsaid.

The clock strikes ten and the owners kick you out, “You lovebirds better get home, the trains will be running their last stop anytime soon.” Neither of you step in to correct them, bidding the elderly couple a good night.

For a minute, you’re lost in the haze of a starry sky and a full stomach, humming a song from your old world— when suddenly, you trip over a step you didn’t see, comically twisting and falling on your butt.

He starts with a chuckle and evolves into booming laughter, Sylus absolutely losing it as you pout in offense, “You’re absolutely insufferable!” You exclaim as he cackles at your attempts to get up on the thin heel of your shoe. You’ve never seen Sylus like this, even in the game. Eyes sparkling under the glow of the streetlights, bellowing with genuine uncontrollable laughter.

You begrudgingly accept his hand even as he uses the other one to wipe his tears. “It was not that funny,” You huff— but his laugh is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You continue walking, his hand never leaving yours.

Midsummer is marked by the longest days of the year, of perpetual sunshine and the drone of cicadas. The N109 Zone was anything but that, the total antithesis to what was once your home. But under this night sky— surrounded by good food and good company, the weight of his stare and his hand clutched in yours— you think that maybe, just maybe, nights could be enough for you, as well.

—————————————————————

Over the blinding camera flashes and the roar of jeering crowds, you hold tight to the bouquet in your arms, jumping and cheering for Sylus even though you have absolutely no clue what’s going on.

It was a few days before that you stepped into his private boxing ring and found out about his upcoming match. “I don't know why I'm surprised. I bet no one knows it's actually the big bad Onychinus leader up there in the ring. You probably have some stage name, no? Something corny like dragon or crow.” His deadpan stare tells you all you need to know, “How original.”

Despite your less than enthusiastic response, like a proud parent, you still show up to the day of the match with a bouquet and a vintage camera you scavenged from the compound. “Smile for the picture!” You holler from outside the rope as he wraps his fist in tape, a deadpan stare meeting the flash.

“What are you doing here?” He jumps the rope to meet you at the sidelines, the stands slowly filling in behind you, “This isn’t in your job description, you know.”

“I know that? I scavenged through that contract for any loophole to get out of your auctions, just so you know,” You scoffed, setting your bag down with a thump on the grimy cement floors. " Of course I'm gonna be here, it’s your match!” You blabber on about the flowers, how they’re supposed to mean fortune and good luck. But his thoughts are otherwise occupied.

He had thought this might be a little… juvenile, for you, watching two grown men beating each other up for a medal and prestige. It seems like an activity you’d be distasteful of, but you’re here, you showed up and… are decked with all sorts of essentials, apparently. He peers into the bag to find a first aid kit fit for war, enough towels to supply a family, an electric fan, all stuffed inside a misleadingly small tote bag. His heart stutters in his chest. Not even the twins or Mephisto attend his matches.

When the event officially starts, you stay at his corner the whole time; from his pre-fight rituals to pep-talking during downtime, dabbing at his sweat and blasting an electric fan over him as the coach reams his ass. His own personal cheerleader supporting him from outside the ring (never mind the fact you couldn’t tell whether he was winning or not).

It’s hard to watch, having to cringe and look away as Sylus gets brutally socked in the face, blood splattering out of his mouth as the crowds yell to finish him. It’s even harder to watch him in the locker room afterwards, head down and pride bruised.

“Let me patch you up,” You take a seat on the bench, dabbing a cotton with ointment to his split lip. You know his evol will heal everything by the time he gets home— but some bruises bloom where no one can see.

“My knuckles may be bruised, but I'm not incapacitated,” He glares at you as you bring out the ladybug-patterned bottle of ointment. Hmph. You thought it was cute. “Don’t you have more important things to do than play nurse?” His words cut more than usual, a light blow to your ego but you stand your ground.

“Unfortunately, my boss took the day off to go participate in modern day bloodsport. So no, actually. I don't have anything better to do.” You roll your eyes, twisting the bottle closed.

“Well, you must be disappointed. You’ve wasted your day off placing bets on a losing dog.”

He can’t hide the bitter taste in his mouth, not when he still hears the jeers of the crowd, still feels the pounding headache from being pummeled on the floor. His ambition has always been both his trump card and Achilles heel, and he wants nothing more than to push your comfort and reassurance away. (He doesn’t feel he deserves it.) But as always, you read him like a book.

“Hmph. Who says I bet on you?” You cheekily suggest.

He scoffs in offense, “I suggest you stop talking if you’d like to receive your paycheck intact.”

You smile and roll your eyes. There’s your Sylus. “It's still my job to be there, win or lose. Not as your secretary but as your friend. If it helps—“ You poke his cheek. “—you’re still my big, bad, scary boss. Even if I just witnessed you get beaten to a bloody pulp.”

He's so focused on watching you pack your things, that you startle him when you wrap your arms around him. He stiffens; it’s been far too long since he experienced physical contact that wasn’t drenched in violence. But he relaxes into it, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “Come on, let’s go home.”

—————————————————————

The nights are endless and tiresome as your insomnia persists, but as months pass by with no sign of returning to your world, you learn ways to cope.

On some evenings, you decide to sneak into the kitchen, pulling out flour and eggs for all sorts of midnight snacks. It reminds you of a simpler, albeit more stressful time; taking a break in the wee hours of the morning, setting aside your notes to make comfort food with your roommate.

Sylus eventually discovers your nighttime activities, slipping into the kitchen to find you covered in flour, making enough cookies to feed an army. “It seems like a rat has snuck into the kitchen,” He teases, “You do realize we have private chefs on call, right? You could have ordered food if you were hungry.” Despite his words, he still rolls up his sleeves and grabs the bowl from your hands, mixing a stubbornly resistant batch of batter.

You silently accept the help and move on to shaping the cookies. With his help, the treats are in the unnecessarily massive oven and freshly baked within the next hour. The two of you spend the rest of the evening indulging in freshly baked cookies and talking about everything from work to the surprising amount of gossip intel you’ve accumulated about his business associates, until he asks you why you’re up this late.

“I was hungry,” You shrug, but he raises an eyebrow, knowing full well that you’re not telling the truth. You sigh, “You already know I have trouble sleeping. At least this way my hands are occupied..." These days you can’t even fall asleep at all, succumbing to deep exhaustion mere hours before your shift.

It hadn’t escaped Sylus’s notice, the way your eyebags have deepened, your movements sluggish and back hunched, even though your work remains the same quality. He'd insisted once, that you take a day off, but you’d laughed and said, “And do what? Explore the lovely sights of the N109 Zone?”

“As an employee of Onychinus, you have full access to the medical ward. You can schedule a doctor’s consultation, if that’s what you need,” He carefully suggests.

“That would be nice,” You answer noncommittally. You don’t know how much medicine differs between your world and his, but you probably have to get that done eventually.

The two of you clear a whole tray of cookies, leaving another for Luke and Kieran to feast on in the waking hours and cleaning the kitchen upon your insistence. “We have cleaners who can take care of this in the morning,” He complains.

“Hush, that would be rude,” You admonish him and place a rag in his hands. He sighs and wipes the counter anyway.

You bid him goodnight, but make no move to go to your bedroom, instead sitting at the counter scrolling through your phone. He clicks his tongue, and much to your surprise, pulls you by the arm, “What– Hey! The hell are you doing?”

“It seems I need to resort to physical force to make you rest,” He drags you down the dimly lit hallways and into your room. He hasn’t been inside of it since it was just an empty spare, collecting dust for the past years. But as the door swings open, it’s practically unrecognizable. Every nook and cranny is filled with traces of your presence; books stacked on the floor, a sweater slung over a chair. It fills him with reassurance that you’ve made yourself at home, even if you still feel out of place in this world.

“You didn’t have to manhandle me into bed,” You pout, and slightly warm when you realize the potential innuendo in your words. “I’m not a child.”

“You certainly act like one sometimes,” He retorts, “Should I sing you a lullaby?”

“Oh god, no, please—“ He smirks at the horror on your face.

“Rockabye baby, on the tree top,” His voice croaks out shakily, in complete contrast to the absolute confidence and mischief on his face as he taunts you. You burrow yourself underneath the blankets, “When the wind blows, the cradle will—“

“Stop! Please boss, stop the torture!” You dramatically call out from beneath the covers, kicking your feet, “I'll sleep if it means i never have to listen to that again.” You glare at him with the pillows pressed to your ears.

He barks out a laugh, with a surprising lack of offense at the blatant insult towards his musical capabilities. “That better be a promise,” He bids you goodnight, shutting the door and closing the lights on his way.

As he comes down from the midnight sugar rush and the warmth of good company, he thinks, when was the last time he could laugh so easily around a person?

—————————————————————

It becomes a somewhat regular occurrence between the two of you. Whenever the urge to bake strikes, you can expect that Sylus will be wandering in soon after, alerted by either the clanging of cookware or the smell wafting through the corridors. The kitchen becomes a refuge on sleepless nights, the two of you working in perfect synchronization with each other. Whenever you finish, he waves off your stubbornness and walks you to your room, making sure you don’t wander off again in avoidance of slumber.

One night, he comes home from a week-long mission gone slightly wrong. What was supposed to be an infiltration of the enemy base turned into a battle of bullets, as he quickly realized that the reconnaissance team’s information was wrong. Though the opposing side was dealt a bigger blow, he’s a little more than worse for wear, dragging his feet inside the compound, knuckles bruised and stomach rumbling. It’s one of those days where he wonders the point of it all. Where everything has gone wrong, and he wants to do nothing but hibernate, the sleep deprivation and lack of real food finally getting to him despite his resilience.

His streak of misfortune continues when his phone chimes with a text, the chef on duty informing him of a family emergency. Sylus grants him a day off with a sigh, and sets off to the kitchen to make the easiest meal he can think of right now.

You find a pathetically exhausting sight when you enter the kitchen: Sylus covered in cuts and bruises, hair ragged and bloody, chopping vegetables with the pace of a snail. You want to slam your head into the wall. “Sylus, you haven’t even changed out of your mission gear. What the hell are you doing in the kitchen?” You ask, intent on taking over but he steps away.

“The chef has taken a day off, so we’re on our own,” He continues chopping without so much as a blink of an eye.

You sigh, “It doesn’t have to mean you’re on your own. Come on, Sylus. You just got off a long mission. Let me take over,” You try pushing against him, to which he doesn’t even budge but you spot the way he winces when you press against his shoulder. “We cook together all the time, anyway. Go get cleaned up while I finish here.”

It’s a painstakingly long back and forth between the two of you until he begrudgingly agrees to leave. By the time he comes back, freshly showered and wearing the cardigan you gave him (now one of his favorite pieces), you have not only the salad prepared but one of his favorite dishes on the stove. There’s enough for Luke and Kieran to join, “Something smells good!” Two heads pop into the kitchen as soon as the food is prepared, “I thought we were fending for ourselves tonight!”

The four of you eat together at the dining room; it’s not a sight often seen in the compound, with how busy everyone is. But grief washes over you with the familiarity of it all, a family sitting down to have a meal together. You know it’s a privilege only you have experienced at this table, and your heart aches that they have never known it. And so, you try to bask in the coziness of a home cooked meal and good company.

“Miss Secretary, we’ve been meaning to ask,” Kieran begins after they finished recounting their recent mission, “How did you get here? I mean, we know that you came from another world and all… But how did you manage to get here? Did you mean to?”

Bless their hearts, the twins have seen so much in their life that not even the idea of other worlds can shake their curiosity. You appreciate how he carefully approaches the topic, even if you can see the eagerness plain as day on both their faces. So, as much as you don’t like to linger on this topic, you decide to indulge them.

“No, I didn't mean to go here. In fact, I didn't even know it was possible. My world– while different– was far less developed than yours,” You delve into a sanitized version of what happened to you. A silly incident that led to you waking up in the N109 Zone, dimensions away from your own world with no way to return. You keep the anxiety hidden beneath the surface, surprised at your own ability to hide your grief.

By the time you finish, the twins have even more questions— most of which you can’t answer, except one, “Are you going to go back?”

Beside you, Sylus’s heart stutters in his chest. He can't say he hasn’t thought about it before, that he’s never considered the possibility of you leaving his life just as you had carved your place in it. But he’s never had to confront the reality of whether you even wanted to be in his life. After all, you were alone in this world with nowhere to go. What other choice did you have but to stay with him?

“Well, the question is more about if I can,” You smile bitterly. “I've scoured most of Onychinus’s resources, but there’s nothing similar to my case. And it’s not like I'm a scientist who can figure this out with time, so…” Your voice trails off in disappointment, the topic growing cold as you run your fork against the scraps left on your plate.

It hurts him to see the look on your face, the hopelessness in your tone. He never lingered on the thought of how much it must hurt you, to be so far away from your home. It follows you until after dinner, when he insists on washing the dishes, “I can’t make the cook clean as well,” He says, yet you still linger on the island counter, staring into space.

“You'll always have a place here,” He reminds you, breaking you from your reverie. He’ll never let himself be soft for just anyone— but his guard tends to melt in the face of your presence. You look up at him in surprise, “Although you once said it’s only until you return to your world, you’ll always have a place in Onychinus. So long as you want it.”

What goes unsaid is how he cannot imagine his life without your presence. Without the post-it notes on his monitor, waiting for him at the start of each day. Without the incessant reminders you’ve somehow managed to link to his phone. (A part inside of him screams about a deeper loss; of nights spent under kitchen lights, of soft knits and your perfume permeating the office space, of your warm smile at the end of a cold, hard day.)

A soft, genuine smile transforms your face. “Thank you,” You whisper, heart still raw from recounting the most traumatic event of your life.

The sleep deprivation must be getting to him, he thinks. Under the warm kitchen lights with soft melancholy in your eyes, he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful. He’s filled with a strong urge to lean forward just a little more, to close the distance and place his lips on yours— before he shuts his eyes tight. He shakes his head. What is he thinking? Kissing you when you’re vulnerable, kissing you when his ex-lover still lingers in his mind each day. But he can’t deny that slowly but surely, you’ve crept into his thoughts, occupying his mind more than he would like to admit.

He longs for this domesticity he’s never known until now; cooking and cleaning together, taking care of each other at your lowest moments. He can see this being forever and that thought scares him. On this warm summer night, the last of the sunshine before the autumn cold sweeps in— he thinks, once again, of the lover that was taken from him. Of the lifetimes he’s waited for her to return, for them to live the soft life they were robbed of. But his heart is nudging him to the possibility of something new, something so precious; and he wonders when the day will come where he must make a choice.

—————————————————————

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