#the struggle is. in fact. real for me on this front
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usomads ¡ 2 days ago
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You're My Problem // Tama Tonga x Reader
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Author’s Note -> Hiiii, so idk how I feel about this honestly but I wanted to get my first Tama story out (we’re starving out here lol) and here’s what I came up with. Lmk if you have any recs for him, and as always, happy reading!!!
Plot -> You and Tama can’t stand each other. Locked in a room with him by force, will the two of you make up or will the hate continue?
Pairings -> Tama Tonga x Fem!Reader
Warnings -> Cursing, Choking, Degradation, Oral Receiving (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Hair Pulling, Unprotected P in V, Creampie, MDNI
Word Count -> 2.4k
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It was impossible to point to a specific incident that led to you and Tama despising each other so deeply, it seemed as if from the moment you met it was clear the two of you would never get along. You were assigned as a producer for the Bloodline storyline, which unfortunately meant that you were working closely with him every single week. None of the other members had a problem with you. In fact, they loved you, but Tama never shared that sentiment. So here you were in the Bloodline’s locker room trying to pitch the promo they’d be doing later in the night but, of course, Tama was being difficult as usual.
“You’re insufferable, you know that? I can’t even get this fuckin’ promo out without you bitching at me every five seconds. God, it’s like you do this shit on purpose-”
“Maybe you just don’t know how to do your fuckin’ job, you ever think of that, Y/N? Oh, I’m sorry, you’re never the problem, right? Shit goes sideways at least once a week but hey, it couldn’t possibly be Little Miss Perfect right?” 
“Oh, so now you think you can tell me how to do my own job? I don’t see the other three struggling with it, so that would just narrow it down to you, right? You wanna talk about me not doing my job right, look in the mirror assho-”
“Both of you, please, shut the fuck up already. It’s every week with this shit, I’m fuckin’ tired of it. Can you just get along, for once?” Sefa groaned, clearly annoyed with the two of you constantly arguing.
“Well if she weren’t such a stuck up bitch then ma-”
“The fuck did you just call me?!” You stood from your seat at Tama’s words, instantly being provoked but was stopped by Sefa stepping in front of you, preventing you from getting in Tama’s face.
“Jesus fuckin’ christ, enough. Both of you need to calm the fuck down-”
“Fuck you mean, ‘calm down’? Did you not just hear what he said? Now get outta my way so I can-”
“No, none of that shit. We got more important business to tend to. Y/N, your promo idea is great, like always. And Tama,” he looked in the Tongan’s direction, “that was fuckin’ uncalled for. I don’t give a fuck how much you don’t like her, callin’ her a bitch is not cool, uce. But both of you,” he pointed between the two of you, “need to figure out whatever this issue is. I can’t have y’all bitchin’ at each other all the time, shit’s annoying as hell. So you know what, I’ve got an idea…” Sefa trailed off. “Me, Jacob, and Tonga are gonna go talk to creative about some shit real quick, and you two,” he and the other two walked towards the door, “are gonna talk this shit out. And I’m not lettin’ y’all outta here until ‘til you do.” You and Tama both tried to say something to stop them but went ignored as Jacob, Tonga, and Sefa went out the door and closed it behind them, locking it in the process. You let out a huff of annoyance, slouching in your seat.
“You realize this is your fault, right?” You spoke out loud, not looking at Tama. “If you weren’t such a fuckin’ dick then we wouldn’t be here right now. Once again, you gotta fuck something up...” 
Tama laughed obnoxiously, “My fault? Oh, don’t act all fuckin’ innocent here, Y/N. You know damn well you had just as much a part in this as I did. Don’t play all innocent now, Sefa ain’t here to defend you.”
You stood up abruptly, ignoring him as you walked to the door and tested the doorknob, finding it was indeed locked. “You’ve gotta be kidding… he fuckin’ locked us in here?!”
Tama stood up and walked over to the door, brushing by you to try the door himself. “There’s no way he did that shit, you’re just being fuckin’ dramatic,” he twisted the knob to also find it locked, you scoffing as he had to try it himself. You step to him, forcing him to look at you as you spoke.
“What the fuck is your issue, Tama? I don’t get it,” you asked, demanding an answer. “Like, what the fuck did I ever do to you? I tried being nice to you at first, I really did, but you’ve been such a fuckin’ prick ever since I met you that you’ve made that literally impossible.” Tama fumed as he pushed your back against the door, stepping dangerously close to you. Your mind felt dizzy as he stood over you, him peering down at you with his intense gaze. Your stomach had all of a sudden become a bundle of nerves as you watched his face, anxious of what he might say or do, but deep down there was a small part of you that enjoyed how intimidated you were by him. You hated how much you enjoyed this, trying desperately to put those thoughts to the side and forget about them completely, but he wouldn’t let you. His stare wouldn’t let you. The heat emanating from his body wouldn’t let you. And his next words certainly wouldn’t either.
“You wanna know what my problem is, Y/N? You. You’re my problem.”
“Well, no shit, I fuckin’ knew that dumba-” your words caught in your throat as he stepped impossibly closer and wrapped a hand around your neck, your bodies nearly touching. You gasped at the feeling and felt your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head, trying hard to maintain a level of self control under his touch.
“My problem is every time you talk back or insult me, I wanna shove my cock down your throat right then and there to shut you up.” He growled. “Been tryin’ so hard not to ruin you since the moment I met you, ‘s why I been actin’ like I can’t stand your ass. But the more bold you been gettin’ with me,” he leaned down to your ear, ���the more I wanna fuck that attitude of yours right outta ya.” You bite your lip at his words, trying your best to suppress the moans that are daring to fall off your lips. Tama raises his head and meets your gaze once more, watching you try desperately to contain yourself underneath him. Your breath quickens as his eyes scan your features, looking for any sign of surrender to him. “Not so bold anymore, huh?” Your lip bite morphs into a smirk, finding your confidence at his teasing remark.
“You gonna sit here and continue to talk outta your ass, or you gonna man up and fuckin’ kiss me already?”
He chuckles lowly before smashing his lips to yours, the grip on your throat tightening and a moan swallowed by your lips coming from his mouth. You grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, craving his touch as your lips dance along his. He forces his tongue in your mouth, dominating it as his other hand grips your hip. Wetness begins to pool at your core, the overwhelming sexual desire between you two palpable as you both fight for dominance. The two of you switch positions; Tama’s back against the door as you separate. Your swollen lips paint a smirk as your hands travel to the hem of his shirt, tugging on the fabric and prompting him to remove it. The bulge in his pants is prominent, silently aching for you as your fingers dance along his waistline. Tama watches your actions- watches you toy with him.
“Y/N, if you don’t…”
“Don’t what? You were the one who called me a bitch earlier, might as well play the part…” you begin to back away from him but his hand grabs your wrist tightly and pulls you to him.
“I don’t think so,” his eyes darken as he speaks to you in a commanding tone. “Get on your knees.”
“Make me.”
Tama grabs your shoulders, shoving you down and undoing his pants to free himself. His cock hits his stomach as he pulls his boxers down, veins prominently detailing the thick shaft as precum leaks from the swollen tip. You look up at him through your lashes, Tama taking a mental picture of the sight of your doe eyes making eye contact with his. To him, the sight of you peering up at him with bruised lips, mere inches away from having your mouth on him was the sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed. You give him a wink and wrap your hand around him, spitting on his dick and slowly stroking it. He groans when you touch him, weaving his fingers into your hair. Your tongue slowly trails from base to tip, tracing the outlines of his veins and giving kitten licks to the swollen head, making him shiver.
“Mmm, fuck Y/N, quit teasin’,” he moaned, gripping your hair harder. You didn’t listen, continuing your actions until he tugs your head back to look at him, a gasp slipping from your mouth and allowing him to slide his tip inside. “You wanna play, huh? Fine by me, baby, let’s play.” He pushes your head slowly down his length, forcing you to relax your jaw and throat to open yourself up to him. You feel his cock hit the back of your throat and gag, eliciting a groan from him as your throat tightens around him. “Mmm, you think you’re so big and bad, ain’t so big now with this dick down your throat, huh?” You moan around his cock, your eyes watering as he thrusts himself in your mouth. He fucks your throat violently, his hips bucking at an unrelenting pace as tears stream your face and you choke on him. He pulls out, allowing you to catch your breath but continues to stroke himself as he looks down at you. “Look at you, you’re a mess. Such a fuckin’ slut f’me, chokin’ on my cock.” You whine at his words, you had never been one for name calling but the way it glided off his tongue made you weak in the knees. “Oh, you like that, huh? C’mere, you wanna be my slut so bad imma fuck you like one.” He lifts you back to your feet, kneeling down and taking off your bottoms, leaving you in your panties. He moves them to the side, collecting your wetness with his fingers. “Damn, baby girl, I did all this? You’re a fuckin’ mess for me,” he smirked.
“Tama, I swear to God…”
“Nah, you wanted to play earlier, remember? Now it’s my turn.”
“Tama…”
“Whatchu want, hmm? Imma need a little more convincing than that, sweetheart.” You whined and laid your head against the door, eyes gluing shut as his fingers teased close to your aching core but would never quite touch it. 
“Please…” you mumbled softly.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What were you sayin’?” He smirked, loving how desperate you were for him.
“Fuck, Tama, please. Please, just fuckin’ touch me alre- oh fuckkk.” His tongue making contact with your dripping folds cut you short, your eyes rolling back as his tongue ravaged your pussy. He moaned as he lapped at you, the vibration sending chills throughout your body. He lifts his head and blows cool air on your clit before wrapping his lips around the swollen bud, making you cry out his name and tangle your hands in his hair. He continued to assault your pussy with his tongue, and it wasn’t long before your legs were shaking underneath him.
“S-shit, Tama I-” He stops his movements, slowly rising back to his feet and giving you a sinister look. 
“Oh, you thought I was gonna let you cum so easily?” He turns you around, pressing your front against the cool surface of the door. “Nah, baby, you cum when I let you.” His tip pokes at your entrance before pushing its way in, the thickness of his cock filling you instantly. He places a hand on the side of your head, pushing it into the door as he pounds into you mercilessly. You moan his name loud, unable to control yourself as Tama fully dominates you.
“Fuckk, such a pretty lil’ slut f’me. Takin’ me so well.. you love this dick don’t you, baby girl? Tell Daddy how much you love his cock.” He continues to fuck you hard, your skin slapping echoing the room. “I- I, oh fuck, s-so good. I-”
“That’s it, mama, let the whole fuckin’ arena know who’s fuckin’ you this good.” He grabs your hair and pulls, arching your back and he slams his hips into you. You cry out his name, the new angle hitting your spot in all the right ways. You know you’re close- your pussy tightens around him and he groans. “Lost that attitude, didn’t you? All it took was to fill you full of good dick and you shut right up… fuck, baby, so fuckin’ tight f’me. Squeezing the fuck outta my dick. Keep that shit up and imma fill this pussy up.” 
“P-please..”
“Oh, you dirty fuckin’ slut, you want that, don’t you?” You whimper in response. “Imma give that shit to you baby, gotta cum for me first. C’mon, ma, nut all over this dick.” His hips drive into you deeper than before, daring you to come undone, and you do. You cum hard, your vision turning white and your limbs shaking violently as you release all over him. Your pussy tightens one last time and Tama curses your name, snapping his hips into you and releasing deep inside your pussy.  He stills inside you, allowing his cum to completely fill you as the two of you attempt to catch your breath. He plants kisses on the side of your neck, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. After a moment he pulls out of you, reaching down to your panties and moving them back in place, trapping his cum inside. You two rest for a moment, skin to skin as he holds you in his arms, the both of you stuck in a blissful trance until a loud knocking raps from the other side of the door. 
“Aye, y’all make up yet? Got a segment to get ready for, we’re coming in.” 
Shit.
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illogicalvulcans ¡ 1 year ago
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why can't i just find a few pics that show both the cut AND color i want at my next hair appt i feel dumb when i msg my stylist like "OKAY so ignore the color on this one but i like this cut i know they're naturally WAY blonder than me i like the shape and ignore the cut on this one i know they've grown their hair out to 5238763478 inches but i love this tone" like i just wanna show one picture and be like "i like this can we do a version of it that suits my face thanks"
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saetoru ¡ 2 years ago
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i’ll never forget when someone said that having a lot of followers on tumblr and not acknowledging your “power” from your following is like being rich and acting like ur common folk
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tibialtybalt ¡ 5 months ago
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faulkner my beautiful princess with a disorder............
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scentedpeachlandcreator ¡ 2 months ago
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How to manifest your desired face:
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*This is the most popular topic, so i made this to clear up some questions you might have or struggle with.*
Manifesting your ideal face Can be frustrating sometimes, why? Well you Always encounter the mirror, and it Can get you very demotivated and you might think that there's no movement or doubt the Law.
But let's simplify LOA Real quick-
1. Decide: decide what kind of face you want, it Can be mixed or just the ideal face you want.
2. affirm: making an affirmation that you feel comfortable to repeat for example "i already have my desired face" "i look exactly like xyz!"
3. persist: being stubborn and faithful to your assumption, you Always return to your assumption/imagination regardless of what the 3d shows you. For example: you still see the same old face in the mirror, before reacting, you affirm that you have your desired face.
That all you gotta do.
But here's the Real question →
Why the 3d is still showing me my old face?
Duh 😒 didn't we ALWAYS Say that you shouldn't take the validation from the 3d? The 3d won't EVER give you your desired face if you focus on it.
The 3d will Always shows you your current assumptions, if you keep saying that you don't have your desired face, well Guess what? Yeah duh you will still see your old face.
But we need to fix that, we need to stop this repeating cycle.
YOU ALREADY HAVE YOUR DESIRED FACE! IT IS DONE!
The second you decided that you have your desired face, you have it in 4D.
Done deal.
There's nothing for you to do now, just to persist in the assumption that the fact you already have that desired face of yours.
And the 3D will catch up on and will reflect your 4D, IF you keep fulfilling yourself and accepting the imagination as the true reality.
I cannot stress this enough when i say that the 3D is just a mirror, a dead reality, without imagination, it nothing but a dead reality, what you're experiencing right now is because you imagined it first then it was being reflected into the physical reality.
"B-but Eli i can't ignore the 3d when it is in front of my face😞"
Yeah i know it is difficult but let me tell you.
YOU DON'T NEED TO IGNORE THE 3D!
Just know it will change cause you literally decided that you already have your desired face, you know it is done, creation is finished, you already have your desired face in your 4D and the 3D have no choice but to reflect it!
"but Eli i'm done seeing my ugly face!"
I know it is hard when you are Always in front of that mirror, but beer with it for a while, keep saying positive affirmations, keep affirming that you look exactly like your desired face! I know it will feel Weird and uncomfortable at first but you will get used to it with Times.
"but Eli when i see those pretty girls on tiktok i feel so insecure and i wish to be them😢"
Girl, instead of saying that, when you see a pretty girl on tiktok just Say "oh my god! She's so pretty! But i'm prettier than her, that obviously🙄💅🏻" or "this girl is so pretty like me!".
Affirm against any opposite thought, you're clearly telling your subconscious every single day and reminding it that you DO have your desired face and you're already pretty.
How to know that i'm living in the state of the wish fulfilled?
You won't give a single Fuck to the 3d, you know you already have your desired face so you won't give a single Fuck to what the 3d throw at you.
You'll feel an immense calmness and you'll feel like you already own/ have that desire, it will start feeling natural.
You know it is a done deal, you already have your desires so you'll be unconcerned about what happening in the physical reality, no matter what the 3d throw at you, you KNOW that you do have your desires in the 4d.
People saying your ugly? The Fuck girl? Can't you see my beauty? I'm literally the prettiest.
Seeing pretty girls and feeling insecure? Gurll i'm literally prettier than them, they wish to have my face.
Still seeing your old face in the mirror? Gurl i literally have my desired face, i looks exactly like xyz.
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See how it is easy? You just need to be disciplined.
If you really want your desired face, then be that stubborn mf and manifest that perfect face of yours.
Now go and make that change, you'll thank me later���.
Xoxo, Eli
Š Scentedpeachlandcreator
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chuluoyi ¡ 1 year ago
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✎ forever
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- gojo satoru x reader
the three times he asked you to marry him
genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo
note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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"Why don't we get married?"
The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.
His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.
"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"
A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"
You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—
"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."
Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.
"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"
There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?
You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.
Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.
"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."
When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.
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The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.
"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"
This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"
"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."
"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"
"I said no."
"Why?!"
You sighed. "You're dead drunk."
"What will—hic—make you say yes?"
You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.
"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"
You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.
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"Marry me."
The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.
And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.
Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.
At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.
. . .
He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.
He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.
Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.
"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.
As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.
And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—
—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.
But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.
You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?
. . .
This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.
"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."
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nexus-nebulae ¡ 1 year ago
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i really really wanna write a story at some point that starts out as one of those cliche YA novels where a normal human character finds out about an entire magic world they didn't know about- except the character is some form of mentally ill with paranoia and delusions, so the story revolves around how much more difficult it becomes for this person to percieve the world while also dealing with whatever Magic Bullshit is being thrown at them
#cw unreality#tw unreality#<- just for the description of some of the delusions#i don't want to trigger someone else to have a bad delusion/paranoia because of my own paranoias + creative writing ideas#but like the story is told by this unreliable narrator#who is unreliable due to the fact that they can't even rely on their own brain#and the struggle is figuring out what's real and what's reliable#but because of the character's history with their mental illness they can't do it on their own#but suddenly don't know if they can trust literally anyone else around them because- what if it's all just lies#but then also are stuck in a place of semi-denial where they desperately want to believe this isn't real and is just another delusion#so the story focuses on them learning to manage their symptoms enough to get a hold on what's happening#while both you and the main character struggle to figure out what's actually happening in the story#a semi-mystery type thing#idk just. as a person with delusions and paranoia#if something like that happened to me i would *freak the fuck out*#like on one hand i've been begging to get isekai'd into a fantasy world my whole life#on the other hand i would have absolutely no way to tell whether or not it was just a bad mental break#because the worse your symptoms get the harder perception becomes#to where i don't know if i'd be able to trust literally any of my senses because well. i get pretty vivid tactile hallucinations#i wouldn't be able to reach out and touch the magic creature in front of me and immediately know it was real#it could just be my brain supplying the sensation because i expected it and my own brain is crafting a false world around me#and as a writer just. thinking about that kind of fucked up situation makes me a little rabid#i like to fuck up my characters. lots#and fucked up situations based on my own delusions/paranoias? fun content fun content
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witchesverse ¡ 2 months ago
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house wife
pairing: dark!50swanda x fem!reader
summary: after wanda meets you in her hex, she decides that she wants to keep you as her own.
content: noncon, heavy manipulation, degradation, mention of murder, crying, cheating (kinda??), nipple touching, fingering, clit rubbing, spitting, face slapping, mention of training.
a/n: half way writing this i realised wanda didn't have her children in the 50s so just pretend she did so i don't need to rewrite it :(
masterlist
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The moment she met you, she was hooked. Everything about you drew her in. It made her heart flutter at how you genuinely cared for others and that beautiful, shy smile that would spread across your face at one of her compliments.
And it made her stomach flip at how utterly perfect your body was.
When she created the hex, it was out of grief and the yearning for a family with her dead husband, Vision. But once she met you, that idea was disregarded, and then her children and Vision disappeared.
She didn't care for her family's disappearance. She was too focused on the fact that she could finally have you.
The real you.
"Oh, hiya, Wanda!" Your cheerful voice brought a smile to her face.
You stood at your front door, holding a cookie tray with an apron wrapped around your waist. Wanda thought you looked adorable.
"Oh no, I hope I'm not intruding on your baking time, sweetheart." Wanda's voice was laced with faux concern.
You immediately shook your head, seemingly baffled by the question Wanda had asked. "Of course not! Your presence would never intrude on my time. In fact, why don't you come and sit whilst I finish baking?"
"Are you sure? I don't-"
"I insist."
Wanda bit her tongue, holding herself back from snapping at you and spanking your arse over her thigh. How dare you cut her off.
You stepped back, letting Wanda enter your house.
Your house was big for one person; it makes Wanda think someone else lived here before the hex.
"Make yourself at home!" You gestured to the living room, "I'll just pop these in the oven."
Instead of sitting on the couch, Wanda followed you to the kitchen and watched you. She held back a moan at how perfect your arse looked as you bent down to place the cookies in the oven.
She wanted to be slow and give you time to warm up to her, but you looked too perfect to resist, especially with how your dress revealed your panties to her.
"Come here," Wanda spoke with such authority that you immediately obeyed.
She softly grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at her. She smiled at how easily you complied.
Such a dumb, pretty thing.
She dragged her thumb over your lips and your mouth dropped slightly. Her chuckle brought you back into 'reality'.
"Um," You cleared your throat and stepped away from her. Wanda hid the anger in her face.
She stepped forward, sandwiching you between herself and the kitchen counter. She placed one hand on the counter and the other on your temple.
She lifted the spell.
Your eyes widened and your sweet, soft look was replaced by pure fear. You tried to run, but Wanda prepared for that and her magic kept you in place.
"Y-You did this," You whimpered "Please, let me go. I'll do anything, please."
Wanda smiled innocently, "Anything?"
"My wife-" You gasped, "Is she here? God, I haven't seen her in weeks. Please let her go if she's here. I promise-"
Wanda covered your mouth with her hand. She didn't want to hear about your wife. She wished she trapped your stupid wife in her hex so she could kill her.
"If you comply, I promise I won't hurt her." It was a simple lie, but you believed it.
She used her thumb to wipe your tears away. She couldn't have you crying already.
"Strip for me."
She watched with an amused grin as your brain struggled to process her request, but when it did, heat rose to your cheeks. With shaky hands, you removed your clothing until you were bare and on complete display for Wanda.
Wanda's fingers brushed against your erect nipples and her other hand wrapped around your throat, pushing you onto the counter. You whimpered as your back hit the cold counter.
"So perfect," Wanda muttered, more to herself than you.
Her fingers dragged down your stomach, goosebumps rising, until she stopped at your cunt. She lightly circled your clit and you whimpered in response.
Then, her fingers went lower. She tsked, shaking her head and brought her fingers up. They were drenched.
“I’m not…” You swallowed, unable to finish your sentence.
“You’re not what? Enjoying this?” Wanda rolled her eyes “Don’t give me that bullshit because you’re drenched.”
You looked away, tears filling your eyes. You were embarrassed.
Wanda sighed. She had a lot of behavioural corrections to do.
She grabbed your chin, turning you to face her. You watched with teary eyes as Wanda spat on your cunt, spreading her spit with her fingers.
One of her fingers slowly entered, curling upwards and pulling out. She kept a steady pace, figuring out what made you scream. It was understimulating.
"More,"
Your demand was whispered and weak, but Wanda heard it.
"Say it with manners."
"Please, can I have more?"
You nearly cried. The guilt of begging another woman to fuck you ate you up, yet you couldn't stop yourself.
Wanda rewarded you with another finger, stretching you out. Your hips desperately rutted into her palm, chasing the pleasure. It was brain-numbing how good her fingers felt.
She slipped a third finger inside. It was embarrassing how drenched you were. You could feel your slick dripping down your ass and were positive it was dripping down Wanda's arm.
Your orgasm hit you suddenly. Your back was arched and your toes curled. Your eyes fluttered closed and your mouth dropped open, letting out the sluttiest moan.
Wanda captured your lips with hers, muffling your moans.
"Can't have people knowing what a whore you are." She mumbled.
You shuddered, wanting to say something snarky in reply but words fell dumb on your tongue.
"My wife-"
Wanda pulled back, anger evident on her face and her palm met your cheek. It wasn't a hard slap, but it made your heart drop and tears fill your eyes.
"So much training is needed."
Her fingers touched your temples and you were put under her spell again. She stepped back and sucked her fingers clean, watching your reaction intently.
You cleared your throat and looked around, confusion written on your face. You ran your hands over your naked body and jumped when you noticed Wanda standing there.
"My goodness!" You picked your clothes off the floor, shielding yourself from Wanda. "Sorry, Wanda. I-I don't remember getting naked but give me three seconds to tidy myself up and I'll meet you in the living room!"
Wanda grinned as she watched you walk away.
Brainless little plaything.
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unequivocallyreid ¡ 2 months ago
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Why Didn’t You Tell Me?
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it has been SO long... i was suffering from serious writers block but it think i'm finally out of it :)
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: Spencer Reid used to be your best friend, but things changed. How long can you pretend that you don't love him before it ruins you?
warnings: angst! (with a happy ending), smut (unprotected piv), character loss, mention of Maeve, very sad Spencer, mental health struggles, drinking/bar scene, light choking, fighting, slight praise kink
wc: 8.8k 🤗
i’m very proud of this one! i hope you love it!
Every morning when you wake up, you feel a familiar and creeping sort of dread in the pit of your stomach.
Don’t get the wrong idea; you love your job. You love helping people and stopping horrible people from ruining any more lives, but the creeping feeling and desire to get out is always in the corner of your mind. Anyone working in this field would tell you that. There’s no absolute separation between you and the victims and their families. You take all of them home with you, and you just have to learn how to deal with that and not let it eat at you.
It doesn’t help that it’s an isolating job as well. The last time you were in a serious relationship was in college. Now, every date you have ends in disappointment. Not only do you lack interest in most of the men and women, but it couldn’t go anywhere even if you did. 75% of your time is spent in the office, on a jet, or hundreds of miles away from your home.
All of this contributes to the feeling, but the worst part of your job is Dr. Spencer Reid.
He’s secretive and dismissive and just about the most attractive person you’d ever seen. You honestly don’t know what is worse: his constant physical presence in your life or the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him no matter what you do. You’ve tried to get over it; you’ve buried yourself in work, lamented to your friends, and gone out on dates (all with guys that looked vaguely similar), but nothing has worked. All his worst traits grate your nerves and light you up at the same time.
The worst part of it all is that it wasn’t always like this. When you first joined the BAU nearly two years ago, you and Spencer got along well. You were friends, he talked to you about his life, he understood you, and you really severely fell for him. He became your best friend.
Everything changed around six months ago. Spencer started to develop migraines, and as those developed, he started distancing himself from you. He became snippy and closed off, he started hiding things from you, and he stopped talking to you about life outside of Quantico. It was like overnight, you became nothing to him, and you really didn’t understand. Everyone else on the team got the same old Spencer, but you went from his right-hand man to someone he only spoke to when it was necessary.
Maybe he didn’t deserve to be vilified. You know, realistically, he can and should be able to decide who he wants to be close to, but working with a man who unknowingly broke your heart was close to the hardest thing you’d ever done. So, you decided hating him was easier. The real emotions you feel toward him sit somewhere inside you, but they have been covered by manufactured distaste. Addressing the actual feeling would hurt too bad, so you pretend to hate the things you used to love.
Nothing, however, could have prepared you for the last case you worked on: helping Spencer save a girl he met about six months ago, a girl he loved. You tried to stay collected, you said nothing when Spencer assisted when he shouldn’t have, and goddamn, did you do everything in your power to find that girl. Maeve. She was perfect for Spencer, and you saw that immediately. Everyone did. The sight of him sobbing in front of her body is one that will never leave your mind.
Now, two weeks later, no one has heard from Reid. The only indication that he hasn’t abandoned his life altogether is the absence of the gift baskets on his doorstep that Pen leaves daily.
Nearly everyone has been to his apartment, but they are met with a closed door and have yet to receive a response. Everyone but you.
Penelope is the first to bring up your lack of appearance at the end of a long day of paperwork.
“Y/n, please, you just have to try. No one is getting anything from him.”
“I really don’t think my presence would do any good,” you pause for a moment, trying to collect the thoughts running through your head like a freight train. “Me and him haven’t been close in a long time, Pen.”
Before you can continue, she cuts in, “Everyone has tried, Y/n. Hell, I’ve even considered tracking down Gideon, and I really, really do not want to do that.”
She pauses for a moment before looking up at you with a pout on her face, “Please, Y/n, for me. I can’t bear the thought of him in there all alone, just wasting away in grief.”
For someone who claims not to be a profiler, Penelope knew exactly what to say to get you to agree. She’s the only person in your life who you told about how you felt, though you’re sure everyone else (aside from Spencer) knew: you’re shit at keeping secrets.
“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”
She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“
You cut her off before she can finish, “But I’m telling you, I’m not the person he wants to hear from right now. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Yes, yes. I just want him to know we all want him to be okay.”
Before you can hurry out of the office to follow Pen’s instructions, she stops you and hands you a basket full of assorted snacks and fruits.
“Make sure he eats!”
The walk up to Spencer’s apartment is a hard one to take. The smell of his building hits you as soon as you step into the lobby. From there, everything rushes back at once. Memories of nights you spent watching reruns of Doctor Who or listening to him prattle off about whatever he last read assault you with every step. As you slowly make your way up, you start to question why you agreed to do this in the first place.
You feel a lot toward Reid. More than you should and less than you could. But all that care and feelings that are so close to love aren’t enough to make you forget why you’ve been trying to hate him for so long. He deserted you without an explanation and cut you off without a warning. You spent weeks (three months) crying over him like a love-struck teen. So, as much as you want to hold him and comfort him, you know it’ll hurt you to do so. Penelope sent you, with the whole team’s approval, you’re sure, to try to patch up a broken heart he got loving someone else. There’s a sickness in your gut, but it’s not enough to stop you from rapping your knuckles against his door.
“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”
There’s no response.
“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I want to make sure you’re alright. Can you tell me you’re alright?”
Again, nothing.
You know he’s there. Despite your lack of communication, you know Spencer well enough to know that he would never leave his life behind entirely. That being said, your next few attempts at garnering a response are unsuccessful.
You decide to try one final time before just leaving the basket alone on his doorstep and texting Pen it was a bust.
“There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling.”
You don’t exactly know where this is headed, but you continue on regardless.
“I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, and I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you to be alone right now, Spence. You can either unlock your door, or I can pick it, but I’m coming in one way or the other. You know I will.”
You wouldn’t, actually. It’s a last-ditch effort, and it’s met with the same silence you’ve heard on the other side for the past ten minutes. You’re about to turn to head back down the stairs when you hear the very faint sound of a deadbolt turning.
There’s no other sound or movement, and for a moment, you think you might’ve imagined the sound, but you try the handle anyway. It turns, and the door slides open. You take a step in.
“Spencer,” you call out to him.
You don’t see him at first in the mess of his apartment, but when you do, you feel a crack form in your heart.
Beyond the clutter of his entryway, you see his back on the couch. His frame looks smaller than you’ve ever seen it, and you can see his legs curled into his chest. You set down the gift basket by a collection of others on the entry table and walk over to him. Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a lost dog, you creep in front of him.
His head is down, and his gaze stays trained on his knees.
You reach out your hand and lay it over his. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.
“Spence, I’m so glad you opened the door.”
You didn’t plan out what you would say, but ‘sorry’ feels redundant and useless.
You go on, “I’m here. I- I don’t know what to do or say, and I’m sorry that I don’t. I can get someone else for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”
You wait for him to say he wants Penelope or JJ, but it doesn’t come. Nothing comes. You start to move to get up, figuring you could clean up a bit and try to make him something to eat, then go, but he grasps your arm before you can.
He looks up at you, and his eyes hit you right in the gut. They’re bloodshot and sunken but still beautiful.
“Stay. Please. I just- I need to know I’m not dreaming. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”
His voice is croaky from disuse and breaks at the end, but it’s so heartbreakingly earnest that you feel your breath catch. You move from your crouch and sit beside him on the couch; your hand is still in his.
You stay like that for a long time. His breathing is shakey and uneven, and every so often, his body shakes with what you can only assume are sobs. You stay pressed to his side the whole time, thumb rubbing back and forth over his hand.
Eventually, you speak again, “I’m gonna get you some food, Spence. You should eat.”
He says nothing back, but he does loosen his grip. You push yourself up from the coach with a promise you’ll be as fast as possible.
His kitchen is nearly empty, and you hope he’s been eating from the baskets. Still, you find enough to make noodles and butter, and you figure the carbs should help his energy some.
You return with the bowl. Spencer hasn’t moved, but his head follows you as you walk back over to him.
“It’s not fine dining.”
He studied you for a second, and you catch a glimpse of the old him in his eye.
“You did the same thing when I was sick on a case a year ago.”
You smile at his recollection.
“It helped you then.”
The rest of the night is spent mostly in silence. Occasionally, you tell him something to try to remind him that you’re there and that you won’t leave as long as he wants you there. Eventually, you get up from the couch again.
“Spencer, it’s too late to still be awake.”
He nods and still says nothing, but he is far more receptive than before. You reach your hand out to him to help him up from the couch, and he takes it.
He leads you to his room at a slow pace. His head stays down as you both take a seat on his bed, hands still interlocked. Being in his bedroom is odd for you. You’ve been to his apartment quite a few times before he disappeared from your life, but you never breached this space. It’s all very him. Almost surprisingly cozy, with books scattered around nearly everywhere there’s space.
You take in the moment for a beat before saying, “I’m gonna head home, Spencer, but please call me if you need anything at all. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
This makes his head snap up, and his eyes lock with yours.
“Please stay.”
That’s all he says, but every part of him is pleading with you. It’s not a good idea, and you know it. You’re the only person he’s seen in days, you aren’t close anymore, and you don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch tonight.
“Spencer, I don’t want to sleep in your living room tonight. I’ll come back.”
He pauses for a moment, “You can stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”
Your heart cracks again. There was a time when this was all you wanted. It’s still, deep down, all you want, just not like this. You know he doesn’t really want you there and he’s not himself. But you aren’t strong enough to say no, so you don’t.
He gets you clothes to wear, and you change in his bathroom. You come out and find him in his bed, laying with his back to you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you get into bed next to him anyways. There are a thousand thoughts racing through your head, but the prevailing one is how badly you want to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget, just for the night. You stay still, though, confined to the edge of the bed and start to count to drown out the noise.
Though, you can’t drown out his voice, saying, “Can- Could you hold me? I think that everything feels better when you touch me.”
Another crack. By the end of this, you know Spencer Reid is going to break your heart all over again.
~
When you wake up the next morning, Spencer is still asleep. You sneak out of his room and call Hotch. When he answers, you tell him Spencer has let you in, and you ask for time off to try to help. You can tell from his voice that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he grants you it anyway.
Much of your day is spent like the night before. You stay next to Spencer, and you cook for him after leaving to pick up clothes and groceries. Then, you get him to shower and wash his hair. He sleeps with his head in your lap, and you feel like a fucking idiot at first, but as long as it’s helping him in some way, you let it happen.
That’s the thing: you don’t really know how to help him. You know he isn’t the type to talk about something until he is entirely ready, so all you can do is add something domestic and bright to his life while he grieves. It’s all you can think about in the moments of silence. Hell, you even read to him to try and get your mind off of it, but it barely helps.
The night is the same. You change in different rooms and slip into his bed at different times. You feel dirty for imagining what it would be like if the circumstances were different: if he wanted you like you have wanted him for the past two years. You hold him against you, and you pray for sign that you should be there.
The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.
“Y/n…”
You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.
“Hi, Derek.”
“What are you doing, mamas?”
You sigh, “What do you mean?”
You’re playing coy. You know he’s wondering why you’re at Spencer’s house, picking up the pieces, but you won’t be the one to bring it up.
“Why’d you ask Hotch for the week off, Y/n?”
Another sigh, “You know why, Derek. I just, I want to help him.”
“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”
He pauses for a moment, and you let the moment fill with silence.
“I know you care about him. We all care about him. But who is taking care of you?”
“I am. I can take care of him, and I can take care of me.”
“I know you can, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/n. Don’t let this be something that hurts you.”
“It won’t. I- You have to- Fuck, I’ll be fine. He’s not fine. I don’t care about me or any feelings that may get hurt right now. I’ll be fine.”
There’s another bear of silence, “Okay, Y/n. Just know you’re allowed to tap out.”
You try to think of anything else to say, but nothing comes, so you say your goodbyes.
You won’t need to tap out. You can take care of him and be good to him and ignore the other feelings you have. You can be good.
The call does make you think it’s time to push, to try harder, to help him get better. So, you approach him that day before bed, before he tucks himself into your arms and falls into a fretful sleep.
“Spencer?”
He takes a moment and then responds, “Yes?”
“You have to talk about it. I think that you need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be to me but to someone.”
He’s quiet for a long time, and your breath is caught in your throat, waiting for him to say anything.
“I- I don’t want to,” his voice cracks while he says it.
“Spence, you can’t come back if you don’t. You can’t move forward if you don’t.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
A ringing echos in your ears.
“You don’t mean that. She- she would want you to keep going.”
Wrong thing to say.
“You don’t know anything about what she would want.”
He’s seething now, below the surface, but smoke has started to plume from his ears. Still, you don’t stop.
“Spencer, everyone knows that. No one would want you to put your life on hold.”
He speaks his next line through his teeth, “You don’t know anything, Y/n.”
You’ve never heard him sound so angry.
“Spencer-“
“No, just stop. You don’t know her. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. You don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you’re here. I don’t want you here. You can't be what I need.”
The ringing in your ears is louder.
“Spencer, please. Just-“
“No!” His voice is raised now, bordering on a yell, “I don’t want you here. I want you out, Y/n.”
This has to be what shell shock feels like. The ringing, the tingle in your limbs, and the heat in your face. You don’t know how you are moving, but you are.
His voice is echoing in your head, or maybe he’s still talking, but you can’t tell either way. The only thing you can focus on is how Spencer sounded like he hates you and that Morgan was right about the hurt.
~
You spend the next day trying desperately to shut down the noise in your head. It doesn’t work. The day after is the same. And the days following that. You ignore calls when they come, you ignore the texts, but you can’t stop looking at your phone for a message from the man who fills your thoughts.
Spencer doesn’t call, obviously, and you have to sit with a pit in your stomach while you beg yourself to just get the fuck over it. Two years of reckoning with the severity of your love, months of watching him live happily without you, and it’s the three days you spent trying to help him feel incrementally better that floor you.
You feel like a dumb teenage girl with so much love and nothing to do with it. On top of everything, you feel selfish. Spencer lost the love of his life forever, and you’re nursing the worst heartbreak of your life because a boy will never want you and never has. Still, you send out prayers for him over and over. You hope you’ll see him in the BAU again, even if his eyes glaze over you. Hell, even if they look at you with hate the way they did two days ago. You just want him to function. You want him to be good and eventually be happy. You try to go to bed with soothing thoughts, but you end up with a mantra of his name.
You wake to your alarm and dress for work before you realize you aren’t actually supposed to go back yet. You never set a date to return. You wanted to be open as long as Spencer needed you. You’re supposed to be with him. You’re supposed to be helping and not tapping out. But you aren’t.
You have no reason not to return to the bullpen, so you do. You walk in and feel eyes on you. You wait for Morgan to call out to you, but he doesn’t, so you follow the feeling.
Your breath catches in your throat; it’s Spencer. He’s sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out, and he doesn’t look away from your gaze; he just holds it. His face is unreadable, and yours is definitely not, so you look away first. You don’t look up again until you reach Hotch’s office. You knock and hear him call out to come in.
“I’m back if that’s okay.”
He looks up at you, and you want to cry. You know he can read you. He has always been the best at it.
“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”
You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”
It’s no use; he knows your tells and you aren’t being honest.
“Alright, conference room in five.”
Whatever he sees in your face, he ignores and takes you at your word, but there’s a warning in his tone. He knows when to let things go and when to push. More than that, though, he knows you’d never let something like this affect your work.
~
The first case back is in Maryland, and the one after is in Austin, and the next is in Philadelphia with The Replicator. The job takes you all over the country, and the cases blend together. You don’t speak to Spencer through all of it. You’re never partnered, never work together, you sit on opposite ends of the jet. You don’t even speak at Strauss’ funeral. It’s radio silent, and everyone notices it, but no one brings it up.
In that time, you allow yourself to slip away slightly. You don’t go out with the team, you see Pen at nearly half frequency, and basically, the only time you speak is on cases. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but you call it healing. Derek tries to reason with you, JJ sticks to you a bit more than usual, and Penelope calls you virtually whenever she can, but their efforts are mostly in vain. This is your way of protecting yourself. You feel like you have to isolate in order to improve, and you know, given time, you will come back to yourself.
Penelope’s insistence that you go to her Day of the Dead celebration breaks your distance.
“Y/n, please come. I know you aren’t going out, but you have to. I know you have people to honor, and I need you there.”
You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”
“The team, which you are a part of, so you must be there.”
“I don’t think I can do that. I promise you I will celebrate with you. I’ll help you set up, just please don’t make me go.”
Penelope pauses, but the glint in her eye keys you into the fact that she is not interested in giving up.
“We miss you, Y/n. Everyone loves you and misses you. You’ve been living this stupid, isolated life, and it’s time for you to come back. You are not this person. I refuse to believe it. You’re coming, and that’s final.”
Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.
~
The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.
You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.
The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.
“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.
“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.
There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”
It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.
Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”
You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.
Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.
“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”
That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.
Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.
The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.
You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.
“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”
~
The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.
The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.
Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.
He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.
His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”
You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.
Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”
He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”
You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.
“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”
He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”
He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.
“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”
“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”
He’s silent for a long minute.
“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”
Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.
“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”
There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.
“I uh, I don’t really know.”
“That's not fair, Spence.”
You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.
You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”
“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.
“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”
You smile sadly as you get up to leave.
“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”
You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.
~
Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.
Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.
Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.
JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.
Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.
“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”
You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”
“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”
“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.
“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”
You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.
“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”
Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”
You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”
The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.
“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”
JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”
“What?”
After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”
Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”
You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.
“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”
“Stop being cryptic.”
Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”
“No. That's not true.”
You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.
“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”
It's JJ’s turn to talk now.
“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”
Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”
Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”
“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”
“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”
You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”
Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.
“Y/n?”
JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.
“Just go talk to him.”
You nod mutely, and you get up.
~
Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.
This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.
“Y/n?”
His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.
“What are you doing here?”
You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”
He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”
You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.
“Do you love me?”
That is not what you wanted to say.
His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”
“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”
He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.
“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”
Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.
“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”
He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”
He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”
You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.
His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.
His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”
You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.
“Oh, Y/n.”
“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”
You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.
“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”
“And Maeve?”
“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”
“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”
This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.
This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.
Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”
His reply is instant, “You.”
From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.
You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.
His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”
“Please.”
His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.
After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”
It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.
He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.
“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”
You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.
“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”
“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”
“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”
“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”
It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.
“I love you, too. God, so much.”
With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.
“Do you have a condom?”
“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”
“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”
You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”
He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.
He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.
“Spencer, please.”
You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.
“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.
“Harder. Please, harder.”
He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.
After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.
He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.
He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.
Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”
It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.
That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.
You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.
“Will you let me clean you up?”
You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.
Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.
~
The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.
How did it go????
You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.
-
all done! yay!!!
i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.
this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)
1K notes ¡ View notes
xo100 ¡ 2 months ago
Note
Hey, can you write about landos gf breaking her arm and him taking care of her? like having to help her change and shower, doing her hair und stuff line that? thank you <3
In his care - LN4
*:・゚ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!
*:・゚ Word count: 1562
masterlist / community / request
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౨ৎ
Lando Norris had always been the playful, light-hearted boyfriend, the type to tease and make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But after three years together, there was a depth to your relationship that went beyond just the banter and the fun. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, and now, your caretaker.
You hadn’t expected to be in this position—broken arm in a sling, unable to do even the most basic things without help. It was a stupid accident, really. A slip, a fall, and now you were stuck in this uncomfortable, frustrating situation. But as it turned out, Lando was more than up for the challenge of taking care of you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.
-
The first real test came on day one, when it was time for you to shower. Lando, always the playful one, had teased you when he realized you’d need help.
“So, I get to see you naked... and it’s for ‘medical reasons’? Lucky me,” he said with a wink, earning him an eye-roll from you.
“Lando,” you groaned, cheeks flushing. “This isn’t exactly a fun situation, you know.”
But even as you complained, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had a way of lightening even the most awkward moments. His teasing helped take your mind off the discomfort and frustration of not being able to do things on your own. Lando knew when to joke, and when to be serious.
“I’m kidding, love,” he said, his tone softening as he walked over to you. “I’ve got you, okay?”
And he did. Gently, he helped you undress, his fingers careful around your arm. There was something about the way he moved—confident yet delicate—that made you feel safe. Vulnerable, yes, but never embarrassed. He was Lando, your Lando, and there was no one else you trusted more.
Once you were under the warm spray of water, he joined you, shampooing your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp. It was a strange, intimate experience, but not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. In fact, it was sweet.
“Maybe I should do this for you more often,” he murmured, lips close to your ear.
“You think I’ll let you wash my hair when I’m fully capable?” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.
He chuckled, his breath warm on your neck. “You never know, you might like the service.”
But as much as he teased, there was genuine care in the way he handled you. He washed every inch of your body with the gentleness you never knew he had. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest for a moment, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
“For what?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“For being... you.”
-
You never realized how hard it was to do something as simple as put your hair in a ponytail with one hand. By the third day, you were ready to give up on the idea of leaving the house with your hair looking decent. But, of course, Lando wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Okay, I’m going to do it,” he said, determination in his voice as he picked up your hairbrush and an elastic.
You sat in front of him, trying to keep still while he struggled to gather your hair into something resembling a ponytail. The concentration on his face was adorable—his tongue poking out a little as he focused on the task at hand.
“Lando, it’s fine,” you said after the third attempt. “I can just wear it down.”
“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m getting this right.”
It took another few tries, but eventually, he managed to pull your hair into a somewhat lopsided ponytail. He grinned proudly, admiring his work in the mirror behind you.
“Look at that! I’m a pro,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.
You laughed, reaching up with your good hand to touch the ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, but it was endearing in its imperfection.
“I love it,” you said sincerely.
He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your good shoulder. “Told you I’d take care of you.”
“You’re doing a great job, babe.”
-
As the days went on, Lando had to help you with more than just your hair. Getting dressed with one hand was a nightmare, and you hated having to rely on him for something so simple. But Lando, being the cheeky guy he was, turned it into something fun.
“Alright, love, what’ll it be today?” he asked, holding up two of your shirts. “Sexy red or casual blue?”
You gave him a pointed look. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Lando.”
He smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re always impressing me, though.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at his words. He knew exactly how to make you feel special, even when you were at your most vulnerable.
“Blue,” you said with a sigh, and he grinned.
Helping you get dressed was, of course, another challenge. He was gentle but still fumbled a bit, trying not to hurt your arm as he guided it through the sleeve.
“Sorry, sorry!” he muttered as he accidentally tugged too hard on your sling.
You laughed through the discomfort. “You’re not great at this, huh?”
“Hey! I’m doing my best here,” he protested, but there was no real frustration in his voice. He was patient with you, and that was what mattered.
Once you were dressed, he stepped back to admire his work.
“Not bad, huh?” he said, a proud smile on his face.
“Not bad at all,” you agreed, and he leaned down to kiss you softly.
-
By the end of the week, you were starting to feel a little more like yourself, but the pain in your arm was still a constant reminder of your injury. Lando, ever the attentive boyfriend, noticed when you were getting frustrated or tired, and he was always there to offer comfort.
That evening, you were lying on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when Lando plopped down beside you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, careful of your injured arm, and snuggled up close.
“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice soft in your ear.
“Yeah,” you sighed. “Just... tired of this.”
“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you’re doing great. And I’m here, okay? For as long as you need me.”
You smiled, leaning into him. His warmth, his presence—it was everything you needed. You didn’t have to ask for his help; he just gave it freely, without hesitation.
As you lay there together, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on your back, you realized how lucky you were. Not just because he was helping you through this injury, but because he was Lando. The man who loved you unconditionally, who saw you at your weakest and still made you feel strong.
“Love you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.
“Love you more,” he replied softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
And in that moment, broken arm and all, you felt more loved than ever.
-
As your arm started to heal, you began to regain some independence, but that didn’t stop Lando from taking every opportunity to tease you. He seemed to enjoy his new role as caretaker a little too much, and he never missed a chance to flirt.
One afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to cut up some fruit with your good hand. Lando walked in, immediately taking the knife from you.
“Let me help,” he said, leaning in close.
“I can do it,” you protested, though you didn’t exactly mind when he was this close to you.
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but I do it better, don’t I?”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. He knew exactly how to get under your skin, but in the best way.
As he cut up the fruit, he stole glances at you, his smile never fading. “You know,” he said casually, “taking care of you has been... kind of fun.”
“Oh, has it now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he said, sliding a piece of fruit toward you. “I mean, I get to spend all this extra time with you, take care of you, shower with you...”
“Lando!” you laughed, swatting at him with your good hand.
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. “I’m just saying, maybe I should be your personal nurse more often.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but your heart swelled with love for him.
“I know,” he replied, his voice soft as he looked into your eyes. “But you love me for it.”
And he was right.
౨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!
1K notes ¡ View notes
zoldsick ¡ 3 months ago
Text
── Lagneía
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𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: shanks x f!reader - as the newest member of the red hair pirates, you have a long way to go to prove yourself, not only to your crew mates but your cocky captain as well. Unfortunately, things fall apart after a little excursion and a run-in with a glowing mushroom that has you feeling...hot.
𓍊𓋼𓍊 tags: smut, sex pollen, nsfw, dubcon (it's sex pollen, ya know how it is), MDNI
𓍊𓋼𓍊 wordcount: ~8k
𓍊𓋼𓍊 Read on AO3
𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊
You really did respect your Captain, though you didn’t tend to show it. 
Benn Beckman was the one who had recruited you when he stumbled upon you in a gambling hall. You had been using Observation Haki to beat the dealer, racking up thousands in berri. Beckman clocked your underhanded method and cornered you outside the casino. You were nervous that he would report you to the authorities, but as luck would have it, he turned out to be a pirate. He was impressed by your advanced skills in Haki, and the two of you hit it off. Eventually, he brought you to the Red Force and introduced you to Shanks, who did not give the best first impression. 
“Who’s the kid?” Shanks questioned, barely looking up from his drink. 
He immediately rubbed you the wrong way. 
Beckman cleared his throat before you could tear him a new one, “This is Y/N. They’re who I told you about, the one gifted in Observation Haki.” 
Shanks finally looked up from his drink, lazily trailing his eyes from your feet, all the way to your face. He finally met your eyes and you struggled to maintain your composure under the immense pressure of his gaze. You lifted your chin, desperate to keep your dignity. 
Shanks kept his eyes on yours, his gaze intense as he questioned you, “And why should you be a part of my crew? Have you ever been around pirates or even worked as one? It’s dangerous work. Are you sure you’re ready for this kind of lifestyle, kid?” 
“I didn’t come here to be interrogated by some old man,” you bit back quickly.
Shanks put his hand over his heart dramatically, feigning emotional pain. 
“Listen, Red Hair, I came here as a favor to Beckman, I don’t have anything to prove to you.” You paused as the hair on the back of your neck stood up, “And if your friend hiding over there even thinks about shooting that spitball at me, I’m walking.” 
Beckman looked surprised, but Shanks only smiled. There was a clatter and some swearing before another man with dreadlocks emerged behind nearby ship supplies. “Well, shit. So much for that plan, Captain. Seems like she’s the real deal.” The man then jokingly blew the spitball at Shanks, who to your dismay, easily dodged it. 
“Color me impressed.” You look back to see Shanks smiling up at you. “You have a lot of potential. Let’s work hard together, Y/N.”
… 
While you didn’t join the Red Hair Pirates for Shanks, you became proud to be part of his crew over time. You had been sailing for around 6 months and were glad to say you had quickly proved your worth. Although there were members with better Haki skills, you knew you were improving every day with each new experience. 
You hated to admit it, but your captain occupied much of your thoughts. You often wondered if Shanks knew just how hard you were still trying to prove yourself to him. Though you saw him often, you rarely ever worked with him directly. In fact, you’d barely spoken to one another after your first meeting. You had occasionally exchanged a few words, formalities really, at mealtimes and during duty; but a part of you wished there was more. Though, you would never let him know that. 
You always put on a tough face in front of him, using words to bite back and hold your ground against the confident, and often cocky, Emperor of the Sea. Truthfully, after your first meeting you had come to admire him, and were slightly intimidated by the powerful man. 
While sailing the Grand Line in the New World, the ship stumbled upon an uninhabited island. It was a warm, tropical island, thick with jungle and vines. Shanks decided that the crew would depart and explore the island for supplies, and Roux hoped to find some edible plants and animals for their stock. 
All active members of the crew made groups and departed from the Red Force, but since you were not on shift, you’d decided to sleep in. When you awoke and found the ship docked, you decided it would be fun to explore the island as well. It was better than being cooped up all day in the barracks. 
As you stepped down the ladder a cheery familiar voice called down to you, “And where do you think you’re going, kid?” 
You jumped at your captain’s voice and looked up to see him. His hand gripped a rigging rope, holding him as he stood on the rail’s ledge, and leaned far off the ship to gaze down at you. His hair fell over his face, but his smile was still visible. 
“God, Captain. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 
“Well, I’m just trying to make sure our ship’s hawkeye doesn’t stray too far and get into trouble,” he teased. 
“I’m not getting into trouble,” you grumbled as you looked back down to continue your descent onto the sand. “I just wanted to explore the island like everyone else.” 
“Alone?” His smile slightly faltered. 
“Is there a problem with that?” You ask, confused about where this conversation was going. 
“Well, we can’t afford to lose a member with skills like yours. I’ll come with you.” 
You reached the bottom of the ladder and looked up at Shanks in shock, “That really isn’t necessary, Captain. I don’t plan on going far-”
“Nonsense. Besides, you’re not much of a fighter, you should have a bodyguard when you go to unfamiliar places. And I have a duty to protect the valuable members of my crew.” As he said this he jumped from the railing and landed next to you. 
You did your best to hide how flustered you were, “There are other members with better Observation Haki than I do, you included.” 
Shanks tsked at your objection. He looked hard at you and spoke genuinely,  “Don’t sell yourself short. I heard about how you helped the snipers take out that marine ship last week. And I heard how you helped guide the navigator through the rocky sea and fog the other day. I’ve only ever heard other crew members praising you.” 
You quickly turned away from the red-haired man adjusting the strap on your bag. You knew you couldn’t stop the blush that was forming on your face, so you turned around to start walking into the jungle. “I just do what I’m told, Captain.” You quickly dismissed him, “Are you coming, or what?” 
Shanks laughed as he caught up with you, walking ever so slightly behind you. The walk was silent as the two of you marched deeper and deeper into the jungle, occasionally stopping to inspect certain plants or animals or collect samples in your bag. He enjoyed watching you as you took in the new landscape around you. He’d always found it fascinating to watch you while you concentrated. In fact, he had rarely taken his eyes off you since you’d joined his crew. 
From the second he met you, he knew you would be interesting. Shanks would be the first to admit he tested you during your first interaction. He purposefully pushed your buttons to see what you were made of. He needed to know how strong your resolve was before he let you, a stranger, onto his ship. And boy, did you meet his expectations, surpassed them even. Your insulting response nearly made him fall for you right then and there. But he knew his place as captain. He couldn’t risk showing special attention, let alone romantic attention to one of his subordinates. It was his job to keep you safe and provide you with a place to hone your abilities. He had to keep his distance. 
Yet… here he was, an Emperor of the Sea, trailing behind you like a puppy. He was rightfully worried to see you sneaking off the ship after the assigned explorers already left. He was doing this because it was the captain’s duty to protect his crew. At least, that’s what he told himself.
As you pushed your way deeper through the vines you tried to ignore the fact that Shanks was tailing you. This was just like any other outing with any other crewmate. You felt his eyes on you the entire time as you walked, but you tried not to let it affect your movements. Was he judging you? You felt a little more self-conscious than usual about what you stopped to look at or how you collected samples. Especially when you caught him staring intensely at your hands.  
You finally reached a large plateau. Looking up, you examined the wall looming far above your head, and at the base of the formation, there was an illuminated opening. 
“Shanks,” you called out to your captain, “there’s a cave over there.” 
Shanks shoved some pesky vines out of his face and looked toward where you were pointing. There was a small opening, barely 4 ft tall, and a blueish light was emanating from the abyss. You moved closer to the cave willing your senses to reach out and explain the phenomenon. You couldn’t sense any danger coming from the cave, so it was time to be like a pirate and explore. 
“I’m going to go in.” You stated as you dropped your bag to the ground and started making your way to the entrance. 
Shanks was quick, definitely not desperate, as he moved forward and grabbed your arm, “Woah! Hold on there. There is no way I can fit in there.” he gestured towards his large stature and again at the tiny entrance. 
You considered the situation and shrugged, “Then wait out here. I won't be long, I just want to check out what’s causing the glow.” 
Shanks frowned, realizing there was no point in arguing with you. “Alright, but be careful.”
You saluted him with an exaggerated hand on your brow and firmly stated,. “No.” 
You turned away from him and focused back on the cave opening.
“Brat.” you heard him mutter under his breath. You turned around quickly, did you hear that right? He had a smile on his face. 
You stared at him for a moment, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. You smiled back before rolling your eyes and descending. 
The walls of the cave were rich in color, with layers of lichen growing throughout the chasm. You strained your ears to listen for any unseen threats that could have been lurking beyond your sight, but all you could hear was the rhythmic drip of the cave walls weeping. As you bent and contorted your body to ease your way through the damp walls, you could see the blue light growing in intensity ahead.
Finally, you reached a large pocket of space in the cave, enabling you to stand straight and take in your surroundings. As you stretched out your back you stared in awe at the sight before you. 
Dozens upon dozens of glowing mushrooms covered the room, growing across the walls and floor of the cave. The view was nothing short of dazzling, the light blue glow illuminating the space around you like nothing you had ever seen. 
You approached the fungus carefully, although they were beautiful, you knew well that not all beautiful things were good. You drew a handkerchief from your pocket and crouched forward to grab a sample. 
Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and your blood chilled. You trusted your instincts and rapidly jerked backwards from the mysterious mushrooms. Unfortunately, you were not fast enough. 
The gills of the mushrooms expanded and expelled a great mist of spores. The sickly sweet-smelling mist filled the room instantly and you yelped in surprise, feeling your way out of the room and back into the tunnel. You coughed as you darted through the veins of the cave desperate for fresh air and open spaces. You could hear Shanks calling out to you and you forced yourself to push forward toward his voice. 
Shanks was anxious from the moment he heard you cry out. He felt helpless, unable to fit into the cave. He briefly considered blowing a hole through the mountainside to get to you. Thankfully, hearing your panting and clawing as you made your way out of the cave stopped him. He placed his hand above the cave opening and began calling out to you, begging you to keep moving toward him. 
Shanks wasn’t prepared for what came out of that cave. 
You stumbled out of the suffocating walls and fell onto the grass in front of your captain. You could vaguely hear Shanks, his voice filled with worry, but you barely registered it. Something was wrong. Your clothes felt tight and itchy, you felt your cheeks warm while the rest of your body developed goosebumps from the jungle air hitting your skin. And most troubling, everything from the deepest part of your core felt tight and ticklish. 
Shanks knelt down, grabbing your shoulder to lift your gaze to him. The contact between the two of you sent electric shocks to your core. Sitting face to face with your captain you could barely breathe. At this distance, every feature of his face was at your fingertips. You took in your captain's features. The jagged shape of the scars that ran down his face, the prickly stubble he grew across his chin, his eyes bright with worry, the color of his lips…  It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you. 
“Y/N! Snap out of it! Y/N! What happened in there? What's going on?!” 
The seriousness of his tone did not reach you. Why did he look so worried? You wanted him to smile at you like before. You reached up and touched his cheek with the back of your hand. Taken aback by this gesture, Shanks froze for a moment, then grabbed your hand, pressing it to his face harder. “Y/N. I need you to tell me what happened in there. You can do that for me, right?”
Your eyes widened, coming back to your senses you groaned as you tried to move away from Shanks and stand, only to find that your legs were jelly. “Capt’n. What's happening?” 
Shanks let out a shaky laugh, “Well that's the million berri question right now, kid. Tell me what happened in the cave so I can help.” 
You push your hands into your eyes, struggling to retrieve your memories, “The glow,” you whispered, “The glow in the cave. It was some kinda, I dunno, mushroom. It puffed some dust on’ta me.” you panted your words out. 
“Good girl,” Shanks stroked your hair with his hand, “Now tell me, what did this mushroom look like?”
“Was so pretty, just like the sea. Blue and glowing.” You smiled at the memory of the beautiful sight. 
While you reminisced on the memory, Shanks froze, overcome with the realization of what he was dealing with.
 It happened several years before you joined the Red Hair Pirates. Shanks and Beckman were wasting the night away at some bar when a woman approached him. He had noticed the dark-haired beauty staring at him from across the bar but had paid no attention. It wasn't uncommon for him to get stares as an infamous pirate.
The woman set down a blue sparkling drink in front of Shanks, “Don't think you're from around here, handsome.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him, “How about we get to know each other over a couple’a drinks?”
Beckman stifled a snicker and Shanks shot him a glare. Looking back up at the woman, Shanks politely declined her advances, “Sorry, I'm afraid I'm not looking for any more company tonight,” Shanks slapped Beckman hard on the back making him wince, “This fella’s all the entertainment I'll need for the night.”
The woman tried to hide her annoyance with a smile, “Well then, sorry for interrupting.” She sneered as she turned away, “But the drink’s still on me. Do enjoy.” 
Shanks and Beckman eyed each other and the drink skeptically. “Poison?” Asked Beckman bluntly. 
Shanks let out a hearty laugh, “Well, only one way to find out!” And downed the sickly blue drink in seconds. 
Shanks was stuck in his room the rest of the night, fisting his cock and rutting into his mattress. He admitted it wasn't his best decision. Hongo guessed that based on the color he likely ingested an aphrodisiac made from a plant called the lagneía fungi. “I've heard of petty thieves using it on pirates to steal their loot.” Hongo looked at Shanks scornfully, “Can't believe our captain fell for something like that …”
Shanks shook his head refusing to believe the evidence right in front of him. No! It can't be that. He brought his gaze back down at you and examined your face. You were flushed red, your pupils were dilated, and your gaze wandered across his body. He reached out to touch your arm and you gasped, goosebumps exploding from his touch. He really couldn't deny it any longer. 
“Alright Y/n, don’t worry. You’re going to be just fine, just try not to panic.” Shanks spoke, trying to reassure the both of them. Despite his words, Shanks himself was panicking. What was he going to do with you? Sure, it's just an aphrodisiac, but truthfully the experience was borderline torture. Furthermore, judging by how quickly its effects were overcoming you, you must have gotten a serious dosage in your system. If you were a male member of his crew he would laugh it off and condemn you to your bunk with a porno mag like he had done for himself. But how could he let you of all people suffer alone like this? 
“Am I gonna die? Everything feels weird,” tears pricked at the edge of your eyes, “like I’m on fire.” 
“You’re not going to die.” Shanks insisted, “You’re just, going to be… uncomfortable for a little while. Let’s get you back to the ship so you can lie down.” Shanks bent down and grabbed one of your arms to maneuver you onto his back. Hoisting you up, your breath hitched as your center came into contact with Shanks’ back.
Shanks took off at a brisk pace, navigating the rough jungle terrain. You tried to take Shank’s advice to calm yourself, but you were distracted by the friction created between you and Shanks as he strode back to the ship at an agonizing pace. Everywhere you were touching him felt hot and unbearable. You began to feel a familiar sensation brewing in your lower abdomen. No way, there’s no way! You panicked at the feeling and tried to create distance between you and Shanks to alleviate the burning coil between your legs, but he gripped your thigh back, securing you to his back. “Stop squirming, are you trying to fall over?” 
“Captain, ugh.” You buried your head in his back, panting from the unintentional pleasure, “Please slow down. Wait, please sto- Ah!” Suddenly the pressure built up to its peak. You squirmed and shook against your Captain’s back, fingers digging into his shoulders, unable to control your movements or your voice. With a final moan and gasp, you pushed yourself backward off of Shanks’ back onto the jungle floor. 
Shanks circled back on his heels to find you curled up on the ground, “What are you doin-”
The realization hit him. He noted your shaking legs and rapid breaths and suddenly he became aware of a slightly damp spot on his back where your bodies had just been connected. He grappled with his own arousal seeing you like this, disheveled and glassy-eyed. 
“God, Captain. I’m so sorry,” You covered your face with your hands, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I couldn’t stop myself.” 
Shanks was kicking himself mentally as he watched you before him. Here you were feeling humiliated, embarrassed, and vulnerable; yet, there he was feeling himself getting hard at the sight. He’d wanted you for so long, wanted to make you his. Shanks licked his lips. He pushed down his indecent thoughts and turned his attention back to you. This wasn’t the time. You needed to get back to the ship, and right now that’s all that mattered. 
In one swift movement, he scooped you up, placing a hand under your legs, carrying you in his arm. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck in embarrassment as he took off running. He was fast. You felt the wind on your face as he swiftly maneuvered through the trees at a great speed, his black coat flapping in the wind behind him.  It took less than a minute for him to reach the ship. Shanks bounded onto the deck and managed to avoid the eyes of the returning crew. Reaching his room, he quickly ducked in and closed the door behind him, causing maps and papers to fly in all different directions. 
Shanks walked with you in his arm over to his bed and laid you down as gently as he could. “Y/N, you need to listen to me,” he slipped his hand through your hair and gripped the back of your neck to force you to look at him. You looked up at him dazed, trying your best to concentrate on what he was telling you rather than the feeling of his hand on your neck. “You’re not dying. Those spores were an aphrodisiac,” He looked at you hard, making sure you understood what he was saying, “That’s why you’re feeling like this.” 
You groaned and tried to hide your face out of embarrassment, but Shanks held you firm. “I’m going to get Hongo, he might be able to find some sort of sedative to help you work through this. You might have a shitty night, but I promise you’re going to be alright. I’ll be right back, ok?” He said softly.
Shanks lightly rubbed the back of your neck with his thumb before turning to leave, but you sat up and clutched his shirt to pull him back, “No! Please don’t. Don’t get Hongo.” You buried your head in his shirt, “I don’t want anyone seeing me… like this.”
Shanks’ gaze softened, “Y/N, Hongo is a professional, he’ll definitely be able to help.” 
“No...I don’t…I can’t have anyone see me like this, please Captain. I-” your voice cracked, “I worked too hard to gain respect on this ship. Please. Don’t let anyone see me like this.”
Shanks began to disagree, “Hongo really would know the best way to deal with this, Y/N…” he stopped upon seeing the panic in your eyes. He sighed as he relented, “But, I’ll keep this between us for now. If that’s what you really want.” 
You breathed a sigh of relief, though it was short lived. The aching between your legs was demanding attention, and you didn’t know how much longer you could restrain yourself from tending to it. 
“Y/N.” You looked back up at Shanks, “If you really intend to deal with this on your own, the only way I know you can find relief is to stimulate yourself or… have sex.” Shanks kept your gaze as he spoke. “I’ll leave you my room. At least that way you can have some privacy while you deal with this. I’ll make sure nobody comes in here. You have my word.” 
“Captain…” You found it hard to look him in the eye, you knew what you were about to ask wasn’t right, “Please. Don’t leave me.”
Shanks froze, for a moment he was speechless, he waited for you to meet his gaze and searched your eyes, “Y/N, do you really understand what you're asking right now?”
“I-” You doubled back over struggling to compose yourself, gripping Shanks silk sheets. Just imagining sleeping with your captain was enough to make your arousal unbearable. Despite your best judgment you shakily reached down and palmed in-between your legs, exhaling from the slight relief it gave you. You looked back up to Shanks, eyes pleading, “I can barely manage this right now. I can't do this alone. I'm begging you, please Shanks.” 
Shanks stared at you, mouth agape and spellbound by the proposition. He could feel his mouth watering and his pants tighten. Shanks remembered just how miserable he had been with just the small dosage he’d taken, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine the turmoil that was currently wrecking your body. He balled his fist gathering the last bit of restraint he had and whispered, “It… wouldn’t be right of me to do this. You’re not in your right mind, you’d take anyone in your condition-”
“No. You’re wrong,” you were breathing heavily, choosing your words carefully, “I couldn’t bear it being anyone else. I want it to be you… Unless,” Your breath hitched, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer to the question you were about to ask, “do you not… want me?”
This was the final straw for Shanks. You had broken the great Emperor who’d tried so desperately to do the right thing. His resolve crumbled at your words and he found himself lunging toward you. He pounced over you, throwing you back onto his mattress as his lips crashed onto yours. Your senses exploded with electricity by his contact and you moaned into his mouth, eagerly accepting more. It was utterly overwhelming and you couldn't control the noises that escaped from your mouth as Shanks pushed your hand away to tend to your clit himself, shoving his hand down your pants.
Shanks briefly separated your lips and breathed heavily trailing kisses along your cheek and to your forehead, “I’ll ask you… one more time,” he muttered between pecks, “Are you sure about this?” He pulled back to meet your eyes. 
“Old man,” you huffed at him, “Won’t you shut up and put your mouth to good use for onc-” 
Shanks didn’t let you finish your sentence and forced your mouth wider to deepen your kiss as he worked to slip your pants off. Once they were off you spread your legs obediently for him, pushing your hips against his hand for more friction. With your pants out of the way, Shanks had more freedom to explore your folds. His thumb kept a steady rhythm on your bud as his other fingers dove lower. He smiled as he found how soaked you were for him. He gathered copious amounts of slick from your pussy, and used it to tease you further. Shanks moved his mouth down your neck, leaving dark spots where he sucked and teased. 
You could already feel that you were close to climax, you squirmed and whined for more. Shanks relented to your obvious request and slipped two fingers inside you. The gratifying release was instantaneous. You gripped Shanks’ arm as he massaged your walls through your orgasm. He reveled at just how seductive your body was and how your pussy gripped his fingers tightly. 
Shanks lifted his head out from the crook of your neck and glanced over to you, but you were worlds away. His whole body reacted when he finally saw you in shambles from his touch. Tears streamed down your reddened face, unable to concentrate on anything besides how good you felt, you just focused on trying to catch your breath. It was all so overwhelming, Shanks’ touch, his kisses, and his scent all around you. 
Shanks’ breath hitched as he let out a snide laugh, “Well, I guess that’s one way to shut you up, brat.” 
Shanks pulled away from you for a moment and the sudden loss of contact made you whimper. Shanks scolded you, “Quiet now, it’s not good to be impatient, Y/N.” Shanks teased as he shook off his coat and lifted his shirt above his head, discarding it onto the floor.  You watched, entranced by the way his muscles moved. His broad shoulders and massive tanned biceps patterned with scars. You felt the heat grow again as he turned back to you. 
You pouted at Shanks’ words, “It’s a little difficult being patient when you're so horny you feel like you're gonna explode!” You huffed, frowning dramatically. “Being in a hot man’s bed and watching him strip is not helping my situation.” 
You immediately regretted your words as you watched his brow rise and a wicked smile form on his face. “A “hot man,” you say. Is that what you think of me?” 
“Don’t get cocky,” you spat back, staring him down. He glared back, not backing down from your challenge. You couldn’t take it anymore. You just wanted him.  
With a mischievous smile, Shanks crawled back over to you, placing his knee strategically between your legs pushing into the wet spot of your underwear. He ground his leg as he reached his arm up to pull off your shirt, you lifted your arms to make it easier. Shanks sighed with bliss as your breasts came into view, no bra in sight. 
You gasped as Shanks’ hand groped one of your breasts and his mouth found the other. You leaned back and interlaced your fingers in Shanks' hair stroking and pulling on the red strands. You couldn’t help but inhale his scent as he devoured you. 
Shanks released his lips off of your nipple with a pop and moaned, “In all my years,” he said breathlessly, “I’ve never wished so much that I had both of my hands again.” 
You couldn't help but laugh at this statement, it was just too ridiculous. Shanks eyed you curiously, “Are you laughing at your Captain? Or, are you going to start calling me by my name like you did before?” Shanks’ mouth moved lower down your body, kissing your stomach as he trailed down, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you called me ‘Shanks’ earlier. What made you think you could drop honorifics with your Captain like that?” 
All you could do was watch him as his lips moved closer and closer to your core, you were speechless with anticipation. Shanks played with the fabric of your underwear, tracing the hem and circling lower towards your clit. You jumped from the sensation. “Though, I have to admit. I did like the sound of my name on your lips.” He continued to tease you with both his words and his movements. 
“Please, just touch me already, I can’t-”
“Call me by my name again. Then I’ll consider helping you.” Shanks was enjoying this far too much. His eyes twinkled up at you as he grazed your hip bone with his fingertips. 
You gave in immediately, your pride nowhere to be found, “Shanks. Please make me feel good. I’m begging, Shanks.” 
“That’s more like it.” Shanks shoved your underwear aside and thumbed your clit roughly. You arched your back at the sudden contact and cried out in pleasure. Shanks was completely enthralled with what was happening in front of him, he couldn't take his eyes away from your glistening pussy, soaking wet, all for him. He wanted more and demanded, “Lift your hips.” 
You immediately obeyed your captain and raised your hips. Shanks grabbed your underwear and ripped them off you. You leaned back with anticipation, but nothing came. You peered up at the red-haired man and you realized he was examining your panties. “Oh. Sorry, I know that old pair isn’t exactly sexy…” You explained self-consciously. Then suddenly, as if he was possessed, he shoved your soaked underwear into his face and inhaled deeply. Your mouth fell open at the sight. At last, when he lowered your panties from his face he stared at you intensely, his eyes drunk and lazy from your scent. 
You watched mesmerized by the man in front of you as he tossed your underwear aside, gripped the back of your thigh with his arm, and shoved it back towards your head. Before you could react to the sudden change of position, Shanks plunged his tongue between your folds and lapped up your juices. You gripped his hair as he indulged in your aroused pussy. Shanks moaned into you as you tightened your grasp and pulled his hair slightly. He felt his hard-on twitch painfully, desperate and leaking with pre-cum. It didn’t take long before you were rutting into his face, chasing another high and coming undone for a third time by your captain. 
As your spasms ceased, Shanks sat back up between your legs. You were mortified to see his face covered in your arousal. You sat up and began to apologize, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry let me just-” You raise your hand to wipe away the creamy slick from his face, only to have it shoved away and to be brought into another hungry kiss. The juices from Shanks’ mouth mixed in with your saliva as your tongues intertwined. 
You were at Shanks’ disposal, at his mercy. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone. It wasn’t enough, not yet. You needed more. Reaching down, you pressed down on the protruding tent that was rising in Shanks’ pants. Shanks pulled away from you slightly and hissed at the contact. You continued to palm at his growing member and whispered, “I want this, Shanks. I want to make you feel good too.” 
Shanks laughed weakly, “Well… if you ask me like that, who am I to say no?” He moved back to sit on his knees and fumbled with his belt and pants. You couldn’t help but smile at how he shakily tripped over his buckle with only one hand. You reached up and helped him by pulling his pants down. Although you knew from feeling him earlier, you were still taken aback by the sheer size of his cock as it nearly smacked you in the face. 
You eagerly eyed his cock and looked up at Shanks hovering above you, “Can I…” you begin as you reach up to take him in your grip, “suck it?” 
Shanks couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you came into contact with his dick. “If- that’s what you want. But only a little. I’m not confident that I’ll last long if yo-” Shanks was cut off by your tongue trailing up the side of his cock. A shiver ran up his spine, and he gripped your hair with his hand to hold on for dear life. You wanted to taste every part of him, you couldn’t hold back. 
You weren’t particularly experienced, but somehow you knew exactly what to do for him. You teased his rosy tip with your tongue, licking circles before wrapping your lips around it. You savored the salty taste and traced your tongue along the veins running down him. There was no way you could take him in his entirety, but you pushed as far as your throat could allow. You only got a few pumps in before Shanks stopped you. “Alright. That’s enough.” He sat back down on his rear and motioned for you to come to him, “This isn’t about me.” Which was true, but he knew his words were just an excuse. He easily could have come from just your tongue if he wasn’t careful. 
You got up on your knees as Shanks requested, and straddled him. His dick sat hard in between the two of you as he pulled you in for another breathtaking kiss while he used his free hand to continue to stretch you out. Finally satisfied with his prep, he broke the kiss and lifted your ass to hover over him. Shanks looked up at you and purred, “I’ll leave this part to you.” He wrapped his large hand around yours and guided it to his throbbing cock, “I don’t want to hurt you. So you need to go at your own pace.” 
You hesitated slightly at his command, insecure about your skills. But whatever shyness you felt about taking the lead was quickly dismissed by your overflowing arousal. With one hand on Shanks’ shoulder to steady yourself and the other seizing his member, you raised your hips to accommodate his height. You rubbed the head of his cock on your dripping pussy and you both hissed from the contact. Once Shanks was properly lubed by your fluids, you held your breath and slowly lowered your hips onto the tip of his cock. The head alone stretched your inner walls with an intensely painful pleasure. You felt overwhelmed by his size and the electric current that emanated from its pressure. You intended to take him slowly and acclimate to his size, but your instincts took control. You wanted to feel full. You wanted to be completely consumed by him. You hastily realigned yourself, took a breath, and slammed your hips down, instantly taking him down to his base. 
Neither of you could keep your voices contained. You let out a moan laced with the pain and pleasure of finally receiving Shanks in his entirety. The feeling was devastating. You gripped Shanks’ head pulling him to your chest as you entangled your fingers in his hair. Shanks cursed as he willed himself to stay in control, the pressure and sensation of your grip was mind-shattering. He wrapped his arm around your waist, gripping your skin to ground himself. 
You didn't give him time to recover. You raised your hips again and slammed down hard against him, receiving a grunt from him. You felt drunk, unable to control your actions, you found yourself rocking into him at an uncontrollable pace. The pain was fading away and was replaced by unbelievable pleasure. You needed more, you needed him everywhere. 
Shanks took advantage of your position above him, trailing kisses along your chest and leaving occasional bruise and bite mark. He used his tongue to tease and suck on your hard nipples. His hand wandered along the length of your back, grazing your spine with his fingertips leaving you gasping. Even the slightest touch on your body created an unbearable reaction, flooding your senses with bliss. 
Shanks’ hand continued to explore your body, ticking the nape of your neck, pinching your nipples, and finally falling between your legs. He flicked and rubbed your clit as you rode him at an alarming pace. You felt yourself nearing another climax as the coil in your core began to tighten. You chased the high as you ground against him, willing yourself to continue despite feeling like you were on the brink of collapse. 
Your climax hit you like a train, bringing earth-shattering pleasure throughout your body. You fell forward, pushing Shanks onto his back as the feeling overtook you, unable to continue. But Shanks wouldn't let you rest and you couldn’t contain your voice as Shanks cruelly thrusted up into you, compelling your senses to disintegrate as he fucked you through your peak.
Your ears deafened and rang as you laid exhausted against Shanks’ wide chest, still twitching on his dick. Shanks slowed his pace and you sat on him for a moment as you tried to catch your breath. You felt lighter than when you’d first entered Shanks’ room and your head was clearer, but the burning desire still lay unsatisfied. You tried to sit up to keep riding until your body was appeased, but found yourself collapsing again. Your legs were wobbly, unable to continue. “Shanks,” you whispered, “I think you’re going to have to take over from here. Please.” 
Shanks was still reeling from your ruthless pace on his dick. He looked up at you, astonished that you still had the energy to keep going. “So demanding. You’re making me forget I’m the captain here.” Shanks sat up and reversed your positions, laying you flat on your back as he hovered over you, “But, I guess I’ll follow your command this time, Captain.” 
Shanks pushed your legs back again and took a moment to examine your swollen pink pussy. It dripped and pulsed in anticipation, making it obvious that the mushroom was still wreaking havoc on your nerves. Shanks knew you wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer and decided to bring this to an end as soon as possible. He positioned himself above you and gripped his cock. Pushing it on you, he teased your clit with his tip for a moment before moving lower and watching in awe as you swallowed his thick cock to the brim of his balls. 
You gripped the sheets around you tightly, this felt even deeper than before, he was reaching far down inside and rubbing all your sensitive spots. He sat there a moment breathing deep with his eyes closed, feeling the deepest corners of your pussy squeeze and warm him. He was only brought back to reality when you squirmed and whimpered underneath him. You needed more friction, more movement, more anything. Your body was not going to be as patient as Shanks was wanting. 
Shanks opened his eyes and smirked down at you, “Don’t worry,” he gripped your thigh tightly with his hand leaving it stinging, “I’ll give you what you want.” 
Without warning he lifted his hips, leaving his tip barely inside you, and plowed himself into you as deep and as hard as he could. You choked on your own breath as he pulled out and hammered down into you again, and again. He set an abusive pace, each stroke hitting your deepest nerves and causing waves of spine-tingling pleasure.
Your heightened senses multiplied every feeling, every touch, and every kiss. You felt as if your body was going to disintegrate underneath Shanks. The sensation in your body was unfamiliar and frightening and it was becoming too much. You put your hands on Shanks’ chest in a half-hearted attempt to slow him down, but his merciless tempo continued to wreck your body. Twitching from pleasure, you attempted again to turn your body to run from the feeling. It was all too intense, it was too good and you couldn’t take it anymore. 
Before you could move away Shanks forced you back into position and entangled his hand with yours. His thrusts persisted as he leaned down his head next to yours and whispered gruffly into your ear, his slurring voice tickling your neck, “This is what you wanted, right? What you needed? Take it for me. Be a good girl for me.” 
You were nearly comatose from the pleasure racking your body. Just from his words, you reached another climax, and Shanks fucked you through it once again. Your eyesight became hazy and you knew you needed to ground yourself. Out of desperation, one of your hands reached out to claw his back and the other clenched his hair. You opened your mouth and bit down hard on Shanks’ shoulder. Shanks hissed harshly as your teeth pierced his shoulder, yet he found himself smiling. Your disobedience had always been a turn-on for him. Excited from the pain, he moaned into your ear, “I’m- close. So close.” 
“Come in me.” You cried out. You knew you sounded desperate, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him to ruin you, “Please come in me, Shanks. Please… Please… Please,” tears ran down your cheeks and you lost all sense of self. All you knew was that you wanted Shanks, every last bit of him.  
It took all of Shanks’ willpower not to fulfill your request. 
Every last instinct in Shanks’ body willed him to release inside you, to truly make you his. But his reasoning prevailed. He knew that despite everything he could not do that to you in this state. So, with a few final harsh thrusts, Shanks pulled his cock out and released his warm come across your stomach. 
Shanks collapsed next to you, panting. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. Everything around him felt fuzzy as he came down from his orgasmic high. Once he finally caught his breath again, he turned over and reached for you. 
You had passed out. 
 …
You woke with a jolt of pain as you turned over on your side in your sleep. Groaning, you shifted your body to try and stretch out your achy muscles. However, you realized that you couldn’t move. There was a weight laying across your abdomen… and your leg… and there was something pressed up against your back…
Your eyes snapped open. 
You weren’t in your room, that was obvious. But where were you? You turned slightly to lay on your back, and looking down you saw an arm strewn across your stomach. Horrified, your eyes trailed up to see whose arm it was. It took everything in you not to scream as you realized you were entangled in your captain's sleepy limbs. 
Your mind raced, desperate to remember what happened. You were exploring the island, Shanks came with you, you went into the cave and… 
It all came flooding back. 
You lay there in shock. 
What was going to happen now? What if someone saw you? Would you have to leave the ship? 
Your eyes wandered to where he lay, breathing deep in his slumber. He was shirtless and you couldn’t help but stare. Looking down you realized you weren’t wearing your own clothes, but rather an oversized off-white button-down shirt. It was obvious that Shanks lent you his own shirt. What a gentleman, you thought sarcastically as your body ached. But, you couldn’t help yourself, you turned your body to face him for a better look at the man before you, admiring his strong features. 
As you savored the view in front of you, Shanks willed his body to sit as still as possible. He had woken up nearly an hour before you had and had spent the time watching you sleep, stroking your hair, and indulging in the feeling of sleeping next to you. He panicked when you shifted in your sleep and decided to pretend to be asleep. To his surprise, you hadn’t gotten up to leave, and he could feel your warm gaze on his face. He savored this morning, never wanting it to end. 
The peaceful moment was ruined in an instant. 
Shanks’ bedroom door flew open with a loud crash as none other than Benn Beckman strode in. You and Shanks’ eyes flew open and met each other in horror before turning your attention to the trespasser. Beckman didn’t get more than three steps into his Captain’s room when he realized what he stumbled in on. 
There was a moment of silence, all three of you stared at each other, taking in the information in front of you. 
Finally, you came to your senses and flung the sheets over yourself to hide from the embarrassment. You felt Shanks’ hand lay protectively on your back as you hid, “Beckman,” He spoke sharply, “you’d better have a good reason for barging into my room.” 
Beckman gulped, “Definitely not a good enough reason for this.” 
“Right. Beckman?” 
“Yes?” 
“Leave. Now.” 
“Right. Don’t have to tell me twice.” Beckman turned to the door and stepped out of the room. You peeked out of the blankets and saw Beckman pause before closing the door behind him. He looked back at you and Shanks sternly, “I hope you two know what you’re doing.” 
And with that, he closed the door. 
You peeled back the covers and emerged next to Shanks. The two of you sat in silence for a minute, both pondering Beckman’s statement. He had a good point. What were you going to do now? Mushroom or not, the two of you crossed the boundary between captain and crewmate. Would you both ignore it and pretend nothing happened? 
Your mind was spinning down all the possibilities that were laid out in front of you. Shanks thought your ears would start smoking soon, and he spoke first. Laying you back down on his arm he spoke two simple sentences that made you relax and settle down to sleep.
“Let’s worry about this tomorrow. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”
𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊
𓍊𓋼𓍊 authors note: HUGE shout out to @nanpecan for editing this and helping me not sound illiterate
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hazelfoureyes ¡ 9 months ago
Text
The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 4)
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
7k words of a fever dream, happy Sunday, sinners ✨💦 I really hope you like it 🥺💖
You were back, unexpectedly but welcomed nonetheless. But now Alastor finds himself in a new kind of hell. There was, unfortunately for him, no killing what he felt when he looked at you.
{Warnings/Promises: Smut, Ace spectrum Alastor x FemReader, Alastor has feelings, creampie is the best nighttime snack, Angel is always the good guy, cervix punishment, mating press, Alastor demon form, Antlers go brrrr, drinking to forget, drowning (in cum)((and emotions)), discussions of murder, Alastor gets horny for discussions of murder, kinda breed kink if you squint, I saw a fan image of a hazbin hotel pool and it’s been stuck in my head for days.}
MINORS DNI (ah! Eh! I — stop. I see you. You know I see you, right? Get outta here! 🚨)
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
You were quick to stifle your smile, seeing Alastor standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. Why were you smiling? You were dead. Brutally so. And, You were in hell. But the corners of your mouth kept tugging upward at the sight of the stupid fucking deer demon before you. His own wild smile, eyes half lidded as he looked at you like he knew you.
You took his hand, needing the help standing. He fingers slipped from your palm and came to rub the velvet skin of your—- ears? You smacked his hand away, taking a step back.
The look he gave you, confusion? You weren’t sure, his head cocked to the side, hand lingering a beat longer in the air. He took a step toward you and you took one back.
Alastor laughed, “Quite the welcome, dear.”
You narrowed your eyes, did he know? Did he know you dreamt of him so many nights? That you struggled daily to not see his face behind your eyelids, not hear his lilting voice in your ear?
“Long time no see, Alastor.” You didn’t mean to sound quite so bored when you said it, you weren’t really sure at all what was going on in your head. You didn’t expect to see him so soon, literally immediately upon your death. You didn’t have time to recalibrate the mixed up feelings you had created for yourself over this stranger.  
You pined for months to see him again, trying so hard to push the memory of him as deep as you could. So deep, in fact, you found yourself tortured at night with fantasies of his company. Even during the day, your life was altered around him. You couldn’t listen to the radio, the odd static and reverb just forcing him back into your consciousness. You took long forest walks, thinking about hunters and deer. You wore that fucking robe for an embarrassingly long time, remembering being in another world entirely.
Alastor’s face fell, throat closing slightly as he thought he realized what was happening. You didn’t remember the time you’d spent with him. He had been enjoying lazy nights in his room and pleasurable times in the woods with a ghost. He took a step closer, maybe if he— maybe your body would remember? If you just smelled his bed, perhaps you’d stop acting so cold. If he could awaken the impressions he was sure he left on your soul, he could pick up where he left off. A comfortable companion. Kind eyes that only saw him. His name, sweet and low tumbling from your lips.
You hit the wall with your back, making distance from him. He hadn’t hurt you, but you couldn’t be sure what would happen now. Fantasies are no indication of a person’s real self. Your dream romps were just that— dreams. Fiction your mind produced to fill the gap in your life he somehow created in your short time together. Imagination fleshing out this unknown demon you couldn’t stop thinking about. 
His hand fell. There was a second his smile dropped, brows knitted. It came and it went, “Well! I best go get Charlie. She is the official welcome committee of the Hazbin Hotel, after all. Follow me.” The door swung open, his long arm gesturing.
Charlie pulled you into a hug, bouncing between “Welcome back!” And “I am so, so sorry you died!” She held your hands in hers, “The hotel has gone through a lot since you left! I have so much to show you. While Alastor has your room b…” her voice carried on, but your mind stayed put. She did jazz hands at every sconce and door frame on the way to the lobby.
You had expected it, your death. You figured there was a 50/50 chance you didn’t make it out of that forest. But that didn’t make this moment any less surreal. You looked down at your body, yours but new. Your hands came to your head, fingers climbing up your skull until you found them. Two soft, tulip petal shaped ears. Were you going to be sick? The room began to spin. Charlie’s voice underwater. Was some detective going to knock on your parent’s door? Carrying a folder with your photo and bad news? Your eyes clenched at the image, your heart ballooning in your chest.
“Maybe she needs to take a rest,” his voice cut through the waters of your confusion, a spear straight to your psyche. His hand slipped up your arm, resting on your back. You shook your head, eyes blinking wildly. 
“It’s fine. Please, Charlie, continue your tour.” You took an exaggerated step to your left, out from under his touch. You thought you heard him sigh. Why was he being so kind? The last time you spoke you were staring daggers at him while he carried on about doing exactly what he had promised.
Charlie excitedly presented the lobby to you, the bar, the library. Alastor walked a few feet behind you both, quiet, his shadow dancing down the hallway in front of you. It’s mouth flipping from grin to grimace and back as it watched you nod along to every detail Charlie felt you should know.
The newest addition to the hotel since you left, a large indoor pool on the second to top floor. You lingered there, watching the water reflect pink and red light from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pentagram City.
“Almost done! To the left is Dad’s studio. He comes and goes. Ya know, parent stuff.”
You tried to mask your concern for whatever damaged parent-child relationship she was referencing.
“And to the right is Alastor’s radio station.”
You glanced to the demon, standing near the wall, inspecting his nails. “I didn’t know he had a radio station. I just assumed-,” You shrugged, “He just sounded like that.”
Alastor felt his bottom lid of his left eye twitch involuntarily. Why were you speaking like he wasn’t there?
He bit his tongue, literally. He needed time to think, to plan how to handle this situation. Your death was early and therefore unexpected for him, too. Not nearly as surprising, though, as your loss of memory of him.
He knew though, maybe this was for the best. If you were here, if he could see you around the hotel, perhaps that desire to have you near would die down. His shadow shifted behind him before sinking into the floor. Yes, exactly. This was a good thing. His eyes glanced to you, to your little doe features, two ears and a tiny fluff of a tail. His jaw tightened, had you done it on purpose? What did it mean?
”Would you like to see it?” He didn’t recognize his own voice, because he hadn’t realized he was going to say it until it was done.
Yes. “No thank you.” You wanted to run face first into the wall. It felt like your ribs were twisting off your spine. One side lurched up—- touch him. He wants you, he felt so good. Get him alone. The other side pulling down—- fuck him. He owns you, he’s a demon. Stay away from him.
His ears turned back and down, folding into his skull. You tried to keep your face neutral as you stared back at him, breathing teetering on panting. Every time you looked at him you were in danger of spilling your guts. 
“Well!” Charlie slid into the tense air between you two, nervous chuckles, “That makes sense! Because Al’s station is super off limits. So. Uhh where was I going with this.” She looked around, “Is the room ready, Al?”
He nodded, leading you both to the elevator and a few floors down. 
“This floor is for our more precious residents. Not that every soul isn’t precious! But ya knooow,” she opened your door, “You’ve got Angel, Husk, Niffty, sometimes Cherri Bomb, and Alastor as neighbors!”
Yippee. You get to lie awake knowing the object of your fucked desire is just past an easily smashed wall.
There was a moment where you all three looked at each other. Charlie becoming more and more fidgety as the seconds ticked on.
“Sooo, We should let her rest, like you said, right Alastor?” Charlie began a dramatic walk to the bedroom door, taking big steps with high knees.
You needed to do this and let it be. “Actually, may I have a moment, Alastor?”
Always, Yes. “I suppose I have the time, my dear.” He twirled his microphone stand before settling it behind his back. Charlie wanted to ask you if you were sure, but the tension was rising again. She backed out of the room, pulling the door closed as she went.
Alone. Again. There was a feeling in the air, like you would either fuck or fight. Was it an animal thing? Or was it always there?
“I never got to thank you.”
His stomach turned, he couldn’t bear this again. Please, stop thanking him. Smile straining, struggling to keep it together, he nodded, “Whatever for?”
You had a strange feeling, a familiarity to the conversation. Ah, that was right. Would this end the same way as your dream? With you on your back? “You were — true to your word.” You fiddled with the comforter of the bed, avoiding looking at him. “You were gentle and you got me home safe and sound. I didn’t thank you. I was just so-,”
“Full of misplaced rage?” His head tilted to the left, eyebrows high.
“Just rage, would have been fine. It was an unfair situation that you helped get me out of.”
Alastor watched your face, only sadness to be found. Not a sight he took any pleasure in. “Well you should truly thank Angel Dust. He is the one who brought me to you, desperate to help you. Even offered me his soul! Not that it’s his to give.”
No one had told you. “Oh,” genuine surprise, “Thank you for that. Yeah, I have to thank him. I’d probably still be in Valentino’s—,” the light of the lamp beside the bed flickered, “studio.”
Looking at you, Alastor couldn’t decipher the feeling in his chest. Relief, sure. Shock, yes. But behind that, a strange tugging beneath his sternum. A pain, vague and nebulous floating over his chest. Why did you come back so soon? Why did you die so early? He wanted to ask you so many things, but if you didn’t retain any memory of your time with him, he doubted he would like the answers.
“I’m going to finish my mental breakdown now, thanks for the tour and uh, the information.” Scratching awkwardly at your arm, you went and opened the door. He paused a moment before moving. “I would like to see your radio station, sometime. If you’d want to show me.” He nodded and left. The room felt colder now, deader.
Your night went exactly how you anticipated, lying awake in the plush red blankets of your new home staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you slept, if you’d see him again. Thoughts of the overworld, family, connections. Little fits of rest came but nothing more than 30 minutes here and there. 
Alastor paced his room until dawn, an animal in an unlocked cage. When you had appeared, dead and truly in hell, he thought you’d come to see him. He was embarrassed to even think it now, he had believed you wanted to be with him in earnest.  As comfortable with his company as he was yours. He cradled his head, again he felt himself succumbing to the enjoyment of others. He had accepted it with you, more so than the rest, and now it was a weapon in your hands. He felt like an idiot. And he hated it. What a fool, to think you’d died to get home to him. A growl rising in his chest. Home. He desperately wanted to see Rosie, to vent the situation and find clarity. But the idea of leaving you alone in the hotel irked him. He couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe you wouldn’t be here when he returned. He could always summon you with your connection to him, but he wanted you to be there, with him, of your own volition or he didn’t want it at all.
If you’d forgotten entirely, he had two courses of action. To start over, or to let it die. 
He looked to his bed, remembering you lying there. Sleeping, peaceful, content. Safe. Alastor turned to the wall, knowing you lied just beyond the wallpaper and sheet rock in your own deathbed, alone. The out of place physical need for you was something he struggled with, but whatever feeling this was — far worse. You were his, yet he couldn’t have you. Couldn’t possess you in the ways he’d grown accustomed to the past year. Starting over felt tedious. But this wasn’t a feeling that would die, he knew that. He could feel that by how deep the roots of his despair sunk into his soul when you looked at him like a stranger. 
He didn’t rest that night, and neither did you.
Maybe it was the deal, the connection between you and him, but no matter where you were in the hotel you could feel him. A sixth sense, his presence always on your radar. A small part of your brain power was always on him, focused on the idea of Alastor. You wandered the halls until the others woke, feeling that little string between the two of you. Taut, strong.
When you found Angel that first morning back, you took a seat beside him in the lobby. 
“Alastor told me you are why I got help. From Valentino.” You tried your best to maintain eye contact, not getting distracted by his arms.
“Don’t mention it, sweetheart. I kinda did it for myself, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep again if I just let it happen. I’m a freak but I ain’t sick in the head like Val.” He locked his phone, turning to you, “So do you always start passin’ out mid-convo or does Charlie’s voice just do something to ya?” 
You groaned, “Did she tell you that?”
“Well she panic-sang it, real worried about you. Did you get settled in yesterday?”
“I didn’t sleep, now that you mention it.” Angel laughed, taking you by surprise, “What?”
“Oh I’m sure you didn’t. Not with your co-star next door.” He winked, “I’m sure you’re happy to be here in the flesh.”
“Ugh I forgot about that. Did -,”
“Everyone see it? Yeah you’re a minor celebrity.” You took a throw pillow and screamed into it while he spoke, “But hey! At least you don’t gotta worry about crazy fans. Smiles will keep ‘em at bay.”
“Why would he do anything for me?” Pillow still over your face, you groaned, “I’m just a soul on his roster.”
“Ha I don’t think he treats just any soul the way he’s been treatin’ you. I think Husk would tell me.” Angel kicked his feet, “What a mental image! Does he have pubes? I feel like he does but they’re like, sharp? Like hostile somehow?”
Pillow down, “Ew, Angel! Hostile? How the fuck would I know?”
Angel stopped, wide eyed, “Oh is it a secret? Is that part of the deal?” A sinister giggle, “You can tell ole’ Angel Dust. We’re pals, remember? You technically owe me.” His many fingers poked at your sides, goading you.
You scrunched up your nose, swatting at his hands, “Angel, what are you talking about?”
His smile fell, now side eyeing you, he opened his mouth to ask you to stop playing coy when he heard you all those nights in Alastor’s room when Charlie burst into the lobby. 
“I am so sorry! I didn’t tell you about the redemption activities!” She tossed papers onto the coffee table, “Alright, plan Stairway to Heaven!”
Angel sat back, bored the juicy gossip had to wait, your attention fully occupied by Charlie’s sketches.
Alastor watched you from the second floor balcony. Over the next few days he would always be watching, either from the shadows or out in the open. Looking at you, that carnal hunger was gone. He felt no overpowering desire to be surrounded by you. But, now and then, you’d make a small noise or sigh and he would feel a little twitch. A muscle memory reaction to you
Where the need to touch you had faded, he instead found an insatiable hunger to be near you. He had thought it would be better, you at the hotel. But it had become worse. The further you were, the more undone he felt. It baffled him. So, he stayed near. You were almost always within earshot or eye sight. If not, he at least knew where you were. He could focus on the hotel and his plans for Charlie only then. 
You never looked at him, it was obviously on purpose. Even when he would take a seat beside you or across from you, you’d manage to glance everywhere but directly at Alastor. By the fourth day, he felt like he was going to snap. It was beginning to feel disrespectful. 
That fourth night when you again couldn’t sleep, you found yourself at the edge of the pool. Did people in hell swim? You’d been there for nearly two hours and not a single sinner appeared. It was well past midnight, though.
The entire room was tinged pink, shadows a pretty red. The water itself looked like a sea of rose quartz. You didn’t have a bathing suit. You didn’t have anything now that you thought about it. Nevertheless, you slipped into the water and let yourself float from the edge.
What a familiar feeling, floating. The ceiling shimmered with the water’s ever-moving reflection. Mind reeling back to the green glow casting your shadow on the ceiling of Valentino’s studio. You closed your eyes, you were always sinking it seemed. Sinking out of consciousness, into a another dream, out of the woods and into the bedroom of your captivator. The only times you felt weightless— ah, right. Body held up by shadows, cameras rolling. Under him, beneath the stars, sleeping form disconnected from your mind. It was always with him. You wondered for a second if you could sleep like this. What would happen if you drowned. Could you drown?
The carpet soaked with every step you took, your body sopping wet, clothes heavy with pool water. You were dragging your bare feet to the elevator when you saw a light coming from the ajar door to Alastor’s radio studio. 
He was looking over papers, monocle resting on his cheek. Alastor turned to you, taking note of your shoes in your hand and wet hair. Your ears were heavy with water, fine fur drooping with the weight. “You look like a drowned rat, my doe.”
“Don’t call me that,” you wiped your hair from your face, “I can’t sleep.”
You never struggled to sleep in his bed. “What did you do when you couldn’t sleep on earth?”
Your life already felt far in the rearview, either the effects of sleep exhaustion or your time in the underworld, “I slept… really well. Not a sleepless night I can remember.”
Alastor only hummed a response. Because all of your sleepless nights were here, with him. 
“Why are you working?”
“Why are you swimming?”
“I just told you.” Your brows knitted, was this a conversation or a riddle.
Ever present smile beamed back at you, “Well then take a guess!”
You stared at him, sitting at his curved desk with all his switches and buttons. Papers here and there. Just smiling at you. “Cool, thanks for the waste of time.” You turned to leave when you heard a low sound coming from his chest.
“Why do you speak to me like that? Avoid me?” He stood, hair sharp and standing at attention, “What have I done to you to deserve your disgust?”
“Nothing! That’s-,” the problem, “I’m just tired. I don’t feel right, like I misplaced something. There’s a nagging feeling, maybe something I forgot in the overworld.”
Alastor closed the gap between you two, “I can assure you everything you need is here.”
You rolled your eyes, “Yeah. Of course.” Turning to leave, his clawed hand reached for your wrist. Pulling you back, your wet clothes were now soaking into his suit.
His free hand took your chin and made you look up at him. Alastor’s red and pink eyes stared into yours, grin wider than you remembered seeing it before. You fixed your gaze on the desk behind him. “Look at me.” His voice cracked with a static interference. Your eyes finally came to his, your hand now holding his wrist just below your chin. “Don’t you dare look away.” He saw it, a flash of recognition flit across your now wide eyes. There was a pulse of electricity to your core, your body remembering his voice, those words, like an activation phrase. How did he know? Your thighs rubbed together, feet barely touching the ground as he held you close.
When his lips crashed into yours, you melted for a moment. Your body relaxed into him, a small whine slipping from your mouth to his. But then something in you snapped back, remembering he was a stranger holding your leash. You pulled his hand from your face with ease as your feet came back to the ground. Tugging your wrist free, you opened your mouth to yell at him, nothing but heavy breathing came out. Again, he reduced you to speechlessness. You glanced at his face before turning; he looked wounded.
You thought you heard his shoes shuffling along the carpet as you rushed into the elevator. A bang, a thrash, echoing down the elevator shaft as you descended to your floor. 
Did he think because you acquiesced to sex before, somewhat under the pressure of a worse fate, he could just kiss you anytime he wanted? Did he see you as a toy? 
Maybe being a toy would be nice. Maybe a good fuck would let you finally sleep. He did hit all the right places, those shadowy appendages never letting a single need go ignored…
You slammed your door shut, angrily peeling off your clothes. No, you weren’t a possession. You weren’t an object to be taken off the shelf at his convenience. No matter how much your body ached for his clawed hands and thin waist, you wouldn’t lower yourself to being under him. Not metaphorically, therefore not physically. You curled onto your bed, naked, body humming for him. Sleep came in pieces, fractured moments of rest.
“You look like shit.” Angel greeted you when the sun finally rose and everyone mulled around the hotel. You waited until you were sure the lobby bar wouldn’t be empty, you didn’t want to run into him alone. 
“How do you fucking sleep in this place? All night just screams and moans from the city.” You rested your cheek on the bar, “Husk, something with orange juice that’ll make me forget where I am, please.”
“The moans are my favorite. Speaking of moanin’ in the night-,” Angel was cut off.
“Get used to it. You sold your soul to a psychotic dick. Welcome to the club,” Husk’s tone was harsh, tilting into sardonic as he slid your drink to you.
With a huff, you sat up, “Don’t compare us. You sold your soul. I—,” you searched with your hands for the word, “was guilty of having a colossal cunt of an aunt.” A deep sip of your drink, “Fuck, he only got my soul because he made a deal with a different demon for it. Soul traded in like a used car. I’m the Kia Sorento of hell.”
Husk grumbled, “Yeah well, either way. Might as well get comfortable. We’re here for the long haul.”
Angel put a hand out to shut up Husk, scooting his stool closer to you, “So like— did Mister Wrong-Kinda-Horny have you killed?” His eyes went to your ears and back, “Is that why ya came back a little lady deer? Some kinda sex thing?”
You downed your drink and gestured to Husk to refill your glass, speaking to Angel without looking at him, “Why would he do that?
He grabbed your bar stool and swivelled you to face him, leaning in even closer, “Well, ya know…” his eyebrows raised up and down, ready to finally get the dirty details, “because ya-,”
“My little doe, just who I was looking for.” His sudden appearance startled all three of you. He was ready now, to pin down your fate. Were you going to stay at the hotel permanently or not? With his supervision or without?
“Why does everyone keep interruptin’ me?!” Angel slammed his hand on the bar.
On impulse, your own hand formed a first, “Stop calling me that!”
Alastor laughed, unhinged, a finger wiping a tear from his eye. Still, the attitude with which you spoke to him surprised him, “Oh? Why should I? You are a doe,” his microphone gestured to your head, “And your soul belongs to me. If I remember correctly, so does your body.” His eyes darkened, back bent as he came to your eye level, “But I always have video evidence if you’re unsure of the details.” 
You lifted your glass and cocked your arm back to throw it but stopped. Alastor was grinning, something in his stare egging you on. He was loving this. Finally you were paying some attention to him. You were looking right at him.
Setting the glass back down, you left your stool and slipped past him, “Lucky for you, radio demon. It’s all you have anymore.” You had decided you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying his name.
Husk sunk beneath the bar, Alastor’s antlers expanding as his eyes became overtaken with black. Angel scrambled over the counter to join the cowering bartender. Alastor whipped around, spine cracking and stretching. You were in the elevator for another quick escape when you turned and saw him gaining on you, his mouth nearly unhinged, teeth sharp and numerous. His body contorted to get his truly demonic face in your eye line, back bending in half to drop his head down, “What did you say?” The air around him seemed to bend and shake, the hiss of a misaligned radio station biting at your skin.
Your finger was shaking as you pressed the ‘close door’ button repeatedly, wetting your lips you found your foothold in anger again, “Fuck you.”
You didn’t recognize the sounds you heard just past the hollow elevator doors. Something between a screech and a wail. Not a sound you’d heard any deer make before.
Shakey knees and legs melting to jelly barely carried you to your room. You collapsed against the door as soon as you entered, locking it. Not that it mattered, you knew that.
A knock shook the wood and made you yelp.
“It’s me!” You recognized Angel’s voice, “Let me in.”
He fell into your room, hair a mess and eyes wide, “I don’t know where he went but he left the hotel. Jesus Christ you have balls of steel.” He fixed his hair, adjusting his chest fluff, “Or are a total idiot.” He saw the tears swelling in your eyes, gears shifting immediately, “Oh shit, sorry. You okay?”
You shook your head no and crumbled to the floor, “I haven’t fucking slept more than three hours a night in like, five fucking days. I’m going crazy.”
“I don’t know why ya’ll are fightin’ but can’t Alastor help you out? Ya’ll are close, maybe a night in his bed will set you straight.”
Your tears streamed down your face, “Angel! What are you talking about?! You keep saying shit like we’re friends. The closest I’ve been to him was in my fucking wet dreams!” You curled into the fetal position on the carpet, exhausted, scared, confused. You’d never seen something as skin-crawling as his full demonic form. But a part of you was mesmerised by the transformation. A sick part of you, you decided.
Angel lied down beside you, facing you, eyes blinking. One of his hands wiped at your tears, “What exactly happened after you went home?” 
You sniffled, “I couldn’t get him out of my head. I wore your robe. It smelled like you.” 
He laughed, “I wondered where that thing went.”
“I started having these dreams, just—- really fucked dreams of him.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed, “fucked how?”
Your wanted to hide your face but didn’t have the energy to move your arms, “He fucked me in the woods like his life depended on it. Best sex of my life, in my own imagination. Naturally.”
Angel sat up, he didn’t know what to ask first, “best sex?? Sorry- no. Fuck, uh, you had dreams about fucking the Radio Demon? You two never… met up?”
You rolled onto your back, shaking your head, “If he could have visited me, he never did. Trust me, I looked for any sign.”
“Uh huuuuh.” Angel nodded, “Well. His extra weird attitude makes more sense. He’s been super creepy, always just popping’ outta shadows and shit. More than usual.”
Angel looked over you, crying softly on the floor. He considered telling you, but if Alastor hadn’t he figured it was best he stay out of it. Lest he be the one fleeing into elevators.
“Have ya considered actually fucking him?” Angel couldn’t believe he was recommending anyone fuck Alastor, but it seemed like maybe it’d actually do you good.
“Why would I do that?”
Angel looked annoyed, “Because you wanna fuck him?! Get it out of our system?”
“Yes and I sometimes wonder what it would be like to drive into oncoming traffic. We all have the call of the void. He—,” you thought about the kiss, “I feel like it’d just make it worse. I’d want more.”
Angel showed you his phone, “He’s apparently eating sinners in the doom district, so, it’s your call. But maybe a good bang would get you both to chill out.” He scrolled, “Fucking hell. The best sex, of your life? Have you not had much sex or-?”
You crawled up to your bed and plopped your now heavy body down, “Angel.”
“Do you have some weird kink? Is it just really big?”
“Angel!”
“Does he go full demon and his peni-,”
“ANGEL.”
He spun his head around to look at you, “I wanna respect your boundaries but I will actually die again if you don’t explain this shit to me.”
Settling back, you groaned, “I’ve never felt so needed before. He held onto me like he couldn’t breath unless I was under him. But you see him, you’ve been here. Does that sound like him?”
Angel sat beside you, “Honestly didn’t know he knew what sex was until you came here so” he leaned back, two arms holding him up, “You guys are pretty fucked up.” You nodded. “What did he say, when you told him about the dreams?”
“Didn’t really come up.” You rolled your eyes.
He patted your thigh, “Got it. You’re gonna owe me like, a metric shit ton of drugs.” Angel pushed off the bed, waving as he left, “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” 
You sat up, staring curiously at where he had just been. Tomorrow? It was only 9am
.
Angel spent several hours in the lobby, pretending to read and socialize with residents. He jumped from the chaise lounge as soon as he saw Alastor walking into the hotel, “Hey uh, I know you know I think you’re a freaky fuck, but I wanna just say it sucks real bad and I’m sorry.” Alastor didn’t reply or even stop walking, Angel having to jog to keep pace.
“I mean, if my fuck buddy thought our bumpin’ uglies was all just dreams I’d be super fuckin’ bummed too.” Alastor became so still so quickly that Angel nearly fell over trying to stop his momentum. He waved his hand in front of Alastor’s face to make sure he was still conscious, “uhh anyone home in there?”
Alastor’s eyes flicked to dials, residents looking up warily as the power flickered and the space seemed to distort around them, “Explain, quickly.”
“She told me this mornin’! She thinks all those nights you were bangin’ her brains out — which, from one porn star to another, sounded top notch from my room — we’re just horny dreams. She’s all fucked in the head about it.”
Alastor melted into his shadow and slinked down the hall and up the walls, leaving Angel behind, “You all owe me!”
You heard footsteps suddenly advancing on you down the hall. Spinning around, your nose nearly brushed against his, Alastor’s face already down to your level.
He leaned in to you, his mouth hitting against your cheek, “I need to speak to you in my room, dear.” His voice was clearly not asking you. 
Your blood ran cold, goosebumps dancing down your neck and arms. “Why would-,”
“Now.” His arms wrapped around your waist, you pushed him away and turned to walk off but stopped. You weren’t in the hallway anymore. A bedroom. With a haughty laugh you turned to spit venom at him for such a dirty trick.
 As if expecting it, he cut you off, “They weren’t dreams, my doe. It was astral projection.” He took you by the shoulders and pointed your entire body at the forest scene melting into his room. Had it always been there? You couldn’t remember seeing it before, when you arrived in hell. Just him and his smile.
You felt the blush rise from your toes to your ear tips. Both hands came to your face, desperate to hide your existence from the situation.
You remembered that grassy clearing, the tree line. Peaking in and up, you saw the starry sky you spent so many nights moaning into.
“Why-,” your hands balled into fists, “didn’t you tell me?!” You turned to him, face red. You wanted to shove him, to hit him, but your mother taught you better than to lay hands on someone first. You finished fights, not started them.
Alastor smiled down at you, like he always did, “I thought you had no memory of our-,”
You cut off him off at the head, “visits.”
He laughed, “spirited visits.” Was that a pun? You groaned.
“I, I thought it was just make believe.” The gentle touches, the sweet names whispered into your skin, the way you could taste him even after you woke. The blush burned your cheeks.
Now that you knew, now that your eyes fell on him once again with recognition, he felt you’d actually answer him, “How did you die?” 
The question took you by surprise, You thought it was obvious, “I tried to kill a hunter in the woods. Well, I did kill him. But he killed me, too.”
A genuine grin spread across his lips, a cackle, “You killed a man?!” You shouldn’t have been so proud, but he looked so impressed, “Tell me every detail. Who was he to you?” Alastor’s hands came to your arms. You remembered last night, pulse quickening, and walked to his bed. You took a seat on the end, sinking softly into the plush blankets. Your hand ran over the fabric. 
“My employee’s father.” The fabric was soft, the threads tiny and tight.
Alastor took a seat beside you, legs crossed, “Oh? And why him?”
A hum, “He was a bad man.”
His hand picked up yours, bringing it to his mouth. There was that loss of blood to his brain, something you effortlessly did to him. “Who says?” His own heart picking up pace. You killed. Was it egotistical to think you inspired such a thing? Did you kill for him?
You watched your fingers tremble under his lips, “What?”
“Who says he was bad?”
Your eyes searched the room for an answer, “I think anyone would agree with me.”
His smile reached his eyes, “So you decided? He probably thought he was quite alright.” He turned your wrist over, mouth pressing to your pulse point. “Did you plan it?” Your scent was familiar but different now. Skin still just as soft. He felt himself salivate. Your spell just as strong in death. 
A gulp, all of those walls you struggled to keep standing turned to dust against his smirk. A stranger, a lover. Effortlessly your body shifted into a new gear under his touch. “Yeah, for a week. I waited until I knew he was going to be there. Walked the paths, bought a knife.”
“A knife,” he practically purred, “A favorite. No gun?” He pulled your arm toward him, bringing your whole body into his.
“I wanted something more… personal.”
Alastor buckled slightly, cock jumping in his lap. “You were made to be my undoing. I am sure of it. A cruel joke from heaven to distract me.” His mouth found your neck next, little nips before he chose a place and latched, sucking a bruise easily seen by others.
“This is a really fucked conversation, Alastor.” Your body softened, a small sigh coming before you could consider being embarrassed.
��For a ‘fucked’ situation, my dear.” His nose traced along your jaw. “But one you’ll find I quite enjoy.” He placed your hand on his lap. Did he see the face you made? The stupid grin? Your hand squeezed lightly on the length you felt tenting his pants, earning a moan into your cheek. Real. He was real. In your hands, now. No dreams or projection. No fantasies. No little pink toy. “Bear with me, just a little more. You’ll find my … proclivity for such topics quite important for these kinds activities.”
“You’re sick.” You turned, nose to nose smiling still.
He hummed, his own smile spreading, “desperately so.” Your hand gently traced the shape of him through his pants, “Why did you kill him? As opposed to all the other bad men?”
A question you didn’t feel you could answer, “This topic is having the opposite effect on me…” you squeezed him again.
“Fair enough,” he pushed you back onto the bed, leg going over your body to straddle you, “Then tell me how you felt? A compromise.”
How did you feel? When you killed him? “I felt strong.” He repositioned himself between your legs, “I wasn’t scared. I knew I’d succeed or-,”
“Or?” His breathing now a barely strained pant. Say it. Say it and he’ll let himself go completely.
You focused on the canopy of his bed, a red wine color much like his own coat. “Or I’d end up here, with you.” His head fell, forehead resting on your stomach. You looked down to see his antlers larger than before, no longer cute little prongs. “Alastor?”
He wasn’t an idiot. 
Maybe a little roundabout, but you chose him. 
Red dribbled from his chin, mind going foggy as eyes went black. His hands rid you of your clothes with delicate cuts, your body lurched up the bed by wide palms. 
You chose to come back. 
Your hands came down to undo his pants and belt, seeing he probably couldn’t manage himself. As soon as he was free of his clothes, he was rutting into your thigh. “Alastor”, you took his face in both hands, dials flickers to dilated pupils as you got him to focus on you. 
“My little doe.”
You came home.
His head came to rest just above yours, wide and sharp antlers just out of reach. His leaking cock finally found your core, Alastor groaning into the blankets to find you already so wet. Your hands gripped his arms, nails breaking skin in anticipation.
Lined up and impatient, he pushed up into you with unmeasured force. You bit onto the flesh of his shoulder, trying to keep yourself from screaming. In those dreamlike visits, he filled you so perfectly, body molding to him. But now, you were stuffed. With one thrust your cervix was bruised and tender. The tiniest pain bled into the eye-rolling pleasure of having him back in you. With heavy breaths he thrust into you with a need you couldn’t ever remember feeling before. He fucked you like he would die without your moans spilling across his chest. 
And it was true, feeling your soft cunt clenching him so tightly was a need more than anything else. A ray of light at the bottom of the Mariana’s trench. Impossible, and undeserved. You were everything he wasn't good enough to have, wasn’t clean enough of conscience to hold. An angel clipping a wing to dip into hell, you killed to sink back into his arms. Even if you didn’t say it, not yet. He could feel it in you. He had left a deeper impression on your soul than perhaps you had his. You weren’t just his by way of a deal, you corrupted yourself to his level.
He looked down at you, your eyes already wet and unfocused, mouth hanging open as every breath turned into rhythmic moans. Your soul a fresh snowfall, your adoration for him a drop of blood. His eyes shut, mind focused on where you and him merged now. Friction pulling him forward to his climax.
Your body was trembling, his lower stomach rubbing against your already swollen clit. That soft button just past your entrance wasn’t just being pressed, it was smashed against your walls with his shaft. His head dragging past it. You wanted to speak, to express how good you felt, but your tongue was frozen in your mouth. Every inhale became a gasp, every exhale was now a moan. You felt his body tighten, thrusts become shallow as his large head refused to stray far from your womb. Silently, your hands tore into his shoulders as you gripped through your orgasm. The muscles in your jaw now locked. Your legs came to wrap around his hips and draw him in, thighs convulsing as his pace didn’t stop for you to recover.
With an unmistakable mating press, his cock buried itself in your pussy. Balls deep suddenly made more sense as a phrase. Your cervix stung as his body forced more room for itself in you. The way your walls spasmed around him felt debauched, your body starved for him. Hungry as he had been. Alastor felt your soft cunt drowning in his seed and he groaned into your hair. Already spilling out, he didn’t even consider unsheathing himself from you.
You struggled to slow your heart rate, vision blocked entirely with his own heaving chest. As he softened in you, so did his form. Body reconfiguring above you, antlers now small and uncharacteristically cute.
With regained red eyes, he looked at your face. 
“Are you-,” he sighed, “Asleep.” Not a bad future after all, he mused. Watching you sleep. 
He considered wiping you down before placing you beneath his blanket, but it seemed like such a waste. Your head on his pillow, he felt everything in his chest settle. Like a puzzle whose pieces were all right but just not flush, his own damned soul settled flat. Everything snuggly in place. 
One of his large palms came to rest on your head, a familiar place for him now, “Sleep well, darling doe. I’ll be here when you wake.” 
ŕźťMasterlistŕźş
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult: @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1
🎞️ TRDFAHS VHS owners: @leathesimp , @alastors-staff, @howabouticallyou , @myrunawaysweets , @karmakillz , @serendipitous-fernweh , @universal-s1ut , @anuttellaa , @sillyb0nez , @nonamevenus , @fairyv-ice , @nitnat6245 , @alicehasdrowned , @alicebaskervilleposts , @jyoongim , @lunaramune , @christinebloodwrittings , @itszzmoon , @thekanrojimitsuri2 ,
@luna-usagi-chan
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
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fettuccin-e ¡ 1 year ago
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Honey-Sweet
Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)
A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest
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You’re too fucking sweet for him. That’s what he tells himself. Miguel O’Hara doesn’t do sweet.
You’re fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. You’re sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. You’d kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.
You’re too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling… it does things to him.
It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.
But, because he apparently can’t stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that “it’s too much, too much Miguel.” Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.
But you’re so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he can’t ruin you, he can’t. 
So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when you’re near him.
He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while you’re filing post-mission paperwork. And God, it’s beautiful. It’s fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if he’s died, gone to some heaven he doesn’t deserve. He’s determined to revel in the domesticity of this… thing he’s created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.
He doesn’t like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.
He’s content. He’s happy. For the first time in so fucking long, he’s happy. And he’ll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.
But.
As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like you’re starving for it. He can’t help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, you’re pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.
“Take me to bed, Miguel,” you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, he’s gone.
He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.
And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that you’re sweeter than goddamn pie. It’s in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you. 
But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that you’re not as sweet as he thinks you are.
Not at all.
Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, “God, can’t believe I’ve waited this long to have you like this. You’re so pretty, Miguel.” 
Pretty. Pretty? He can’t be the pretty one, no, not when you’re unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how you’re practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.
And you’re not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, you’re the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just can’t anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.
You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, there’s a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die. 
“Fuck my face, baby?” you rasp, and yes, that’s it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he can’t refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue. 
It’s not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears. 
He can’t hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, “You’re such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.” Your pussy throbs.
He isn’t soft, isn’t gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy. 
You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch. 
“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show. 
“Nononono,” you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.
Fuck, it’s like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, “It’s so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-“
“Nena,” he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, “gotta stop, ‘s gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-“ 
And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say “I fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.” And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they can’t decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it. 
“Fuck, wanna feel you all the time,” you murmur and Miguel can’t decide whether you’re actually talking to him or not. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, ‘m so fucking full,” you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of “fuck me, fuck me, please please please,” starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel can’t help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.
He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.
The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.
How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?
From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.
Fuck, there’s no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that he’s sure they’ll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.
You’re not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.
There isn’t an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when he’s in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke. 
When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he can’t help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.
You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, “Such a fucking slut, can’t get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?” 
And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, “I know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,” before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.
Miguel is positive that he’s died and gone to heaven.
It’s not to say that you’re not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, you’re the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.
You’re just the right kind of sweet for him.
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luckykiwiii101 ¡ 4 months ago
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✰ How To Accept Imagination As Your Real Reality & Allow The Feeling Of Fullfillment ✰
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XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL
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Hey Upper East Siders.
Gossip girl here and if you didn’t know already, the topic of this gossip post is the key to everything. And without it, you have nothing.
Oh don’t tell me you believed me? I meant, without persistence, you have nothing. But hopefully (*definitely) after reading this post, everything will be a lot easier.
From experience I know everything that enters your ear flies out the other. So i’ll break this down into easy little steps for you. Can you handle that? Or is it too much to comprehend?
Now to the interesting part. Most upper east siders who struggle with persistence is because they watch the 3D in-front of them and freak out when something bad happens. Or get discouraged when they don’t wake up with what they want after 3 days. *Cough cough* In other words, all you’ve been doing since forever.
Well why’s that? Because you don’t accept imagination as your real & only reality. And you want to know what’s most ridiculous part about that? The fact that you ARE imagination. If imagination isn’t real, neither are you.
Don’t accept your imagination as your real and ONLY reality? Let me help you, and everything will be alright. But remember, it’ll only help if you get off your mental arse and do something about it.
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Phase One:
✰ Why Is Imagination The Real & Only Reality? ✰
Because if imagination didn’t exist, neither would you. Everything around you in your 3D is there because it is natural to you. Everything that exists was once imagined. There’s a reason why all successful people acknowledge this too.
Imagination is the real reality because the 3D cannot exist without it. Why would you accept the 3D as your real reality when it is CREATED by you (imagination). You are IMAGINATION. Your 3D (physical reality) is FULLY CREATED by Imagination. There is no exception. Everything that you are experiencing in your physical reality was created by YOU. Your imagination. You are Imagination. You are imagination. You are imagination. You are imagination.
For all the times i’ve called you “nothing”. I meant you are nothing but imagination.
Phase Two:
✰ How 2 Feel Imagination To Be The Real Reality ✰
There are things you have to remember and carve into your mind. Here are some quotes from Edward Art.
✰ “THERE IS NO OBJECTIVE OUTER MAN. The Outer Man is simply an expression of the inner man. The only man that exists is in inner man.” (Consciousness is the ONLY reality). ✰
✰ “I am imagination imagining being human. I am imagination. Imagination is my only reality.” ✰
These quotes are extremely important to understand. Read them over and over again until they are fully carved into your mind. Without this understanding, fulfillment appears as a struggle. Because how you can feel fulfilled having your desire in imagination if you don’t accept it as real?
Imagination is you. It is your safe zone. It is where you go to fullfill yourself. It is a fact that is real. It is a fact that it is your real & only reality. And that is why everything you accept to be real in imagination IS real. That is why you can feel fullfillment in simply feeling yourself to have your desires in your imagination.
Now that you accept your imagination as your real and only reality, you’re now going to apply this in ALLOWING the feeling of the wish fullfilled.
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✰ HOW TO ALLOW THE FEELING OF THE WISH FULLFILLED ✰
First of all, do you know what the “feeling” is? If not then -> CLICK HERE
As Neville Goddard said “Feeling Is The Secret”. This feeling is all you need to focus on to manifest anything & everything you could possibly want.
Now this is how to allow yourself to freely feel fulfilled knowing that imagination is the true reality. Here is a quote from Edward Art. You are going to do this every time before you fulfill yourself in imagination ->
“So start with the feeling that, “I can have and feel whatever I want in my mind.” Once you make this the core feeling inside of you, you will naturally start to think FROM this position.”
Once you understand this, your imagination will feel like the unlimited and free zone that it is, where you can give yourself anything and everything that you want.
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✰ DO IT WITH ME ✰
✰ Remind yourself “I can have and feel whatever I want in my mind.” “Imagination is the real fact.”
✰ Now focus on that feeling. That feeling that imagination is your real reality because it is. You feel relieved don’t you. Or you feel nonchalant. But over everything, you feel that imagination is your real reality.
✰ Now with this feeling you are going to imagine what you want. Give yourself what you want in imagination. Affirm, visualise, etc. Do whatever imaginal act you want. Allow the feeling of having it. Remove all feelings of desire, and replace it with fullfillment. Repeat in accepting that you have it until you no longer feel the need to do so. You will know when you feel like it’s done in imagination. Feel it as a present fact in imagination. Know that what you are seeing is real. It is your reality. You already know how because of my post about feeling.
✰ Now you are fullfilled. You have now felt true fullfillment. You know that you have your desire in imagination. Now persist in that. Come back to this mini “meditation” every time you think of your “desire”. It is no longer a desire because you are fullfilled. Keep coming back and dwelling in this feeling and I promise you that your 3D will reflect your desires so fast.
You can thank me later. You know you love me. XOXO
- gossip girl 💋
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catiuskaa ¡ 10 months ago
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you asked me to stay. [Not yet].
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PAIRING! idol!bangchan x reader
SUMMARY: even if idols 'don’t date fans', there are no rules against a little bit of teasing, and so it happens that Mr Bang Chan here really likes your kind of thinking.
WC: 4.1k
CW: starts off fluffy, then angsty if you squint?, but develops into a (short but still) spicy NSFW. lol, the triangle of (fan)fiction! not gonna say anything else cause I don’t want to spoil it, teehee. Have fun! (I did!)
REQUESTED! here by my sweet 'n spicy baby @sharonxdevi, hope you like my take on it! <3
A/N: wanted to pop down here as a reminder that just because the setting is a fan meeting and yada yada, this work is still unrelated to Channie as an idol. now, please keep reading! I really like how this one turned out 🤭
[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]
He's so sweet.
You kept giggling and blushing like an idiot, but how couldn't you? The Christopher Bang was right before you, smiling and laughing at the lame jokes you blabbered as a blush surely creeped out, your face a deep shade of a pinkish tone.
“Oh, and I wanted to mention that you look so amazing in your performances! You have me addicted, Chan.” You giggled.
He chuckled, blushing lightly, raising a hand to his mouth, half covering it. “Really?”
You could melt at the sight of him.
“Yeah! I’ve watched all your fancams.” You nodded with enthusiasm.
His laughs turned louder, his ears red. “I feel so shy knowing someone as pretty as you watches me dance so much.”
…
You blinked, your eyes wide.
As what?
He cheeked his tongue, eyeing at you sheepishly.
Oh. So he knew what he was doing.
You smirked softly. Your change in attitude made him raise his eyebrows slightly.
“One minute.”
You eyed at the suited man that came to talk to Chan and smiled. He left back to his position, and you leaned closer to the idol.
“Just have to say, that tongue of yours?” You chuckled, and to him, it was one fo the most enticing sounds he had heard in a while. “Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want STAY to act up.”
There was a bubbly feeling in your stomach that only heightened when you watched his face displaying raw surprise.
You were about to combust in spontaneous fire because, well, you just flirted with an idol, a real famous one, that is, but then, he smirked, leaning even closer to you. You could feel his breath on the shell of your ear. His hand softly took yours, and your breath hitched as he snickered playfuly, making you feel a shiver travel down your spine.
“I’m thinking there are far more interesting places where I could keep it.” He grinned in a teasing tone, staring at your lips for a second, licking his own. “But I’m obedient. I’ll keep my mouth shut if you say so.” He stated lowly, his eyes locked on yours. …
Oh.
OH.
MY GOD.
He squeezed your hand, sitting back again. His face was covered by a shade of red, and he couldn’t exactly place what had taken over him.
For a moment, he bit his lip, wary of your reaction, considering you hadn’t so much as muttered anything, frozen in your place.
But then you chuckled, struggling to grasp what had just happened, and his whole body relaxed when you squeezed his hand too.
“Bet. You won’t.” You snickered, standing up, siren eyes staring down at him as you moved away, allowing the next person’s turn.
He winked at you as you left.
W-What had just happened?
Your mind felt fuzzy.
Had Bang Chan just done the triangle method on you?
Chan stared at your back before facing the person in front of him.
He could’ve sworn he had seen you before.
[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]
“YOU DID WHAT?!”
Chan grimaced at Hyunjin, sinking his head back on the pillow in his hotel room.
“Leave him alone, Jinnie.” Yongbok frowned slightly. “But I have to say. Not the smartest move, mate.”
Chan sighed in frustration. “I know, I know.”
And it was because he knew that he didn’t dare to say, but just thinking about you, he also knew for a fact that he wouldn’t hesitate on doing it again. Had he had the opportunity, maybe even more.
But idols don’t do that.
Because it is for a reason that idols don’t date fans. Marketing? 100%. Sure. But it also protected them from scandals and such. Or that’s what Chan liked to say to himself.
Felix felt a bit guilty. Chan had gotten scolded by almost all the members now, some who went more ballistic than others —like Hyunjin, who still was fuming, claiming that if Chan was going to do something forbidden, he could’ve said something better than that—, but he looked at the fellow Australian and stood up, laying his small hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder.
The taller one stopped his rambling against Chan and his alleged lack of creativity regarding flirting, and his eyes softened, looking at Yongbok.
“Give the man a break.” Felix smiled softly. “He understands what he’s done. He’s a big boy. Right, Channie?”
The big boy lazily raised his hand from the bed, not moving his head from the pillow as he hummed and raised his thumb.
“This bitch—” Hyunjin started, threatening to throw a pillow at the older one, but Felix quickly pushed him away, taking him back to their room.
Finally alone after what seemed like a lifetime, Chan turned around, staring at the ceiling.
He covered his face with his hands.
Reckless. Stupid, reckless idiot.
It had to be past twelve when he got tired of waiting for sleep to get to him. That never happened anyways. So he stood up with a groan, yawning out of boredom, quickly fetching a jacket and heading to the elevators with slow steps.
He got in and slowly started to put on his beanie and his mask, which wouldn’t really make a difference if someone recognized him, still, it gave him some reassurance. But then, the elevator stopped barely two floors after he got in.
His whole body tensed up.
He recognized who stepped in, messy hair, funny slippers and padded jacket on.
He knew who that was, because he had been right.
He had seen you before.
“Oh.” You smiled, and he could tell by the small wrinkles in your eyes, because the bottom half of your face was hidden by the jacket’s high neck. “Good night.” You mumbled softly.
He nodded. He was afraid you’d recognize him. He was unsure of what to do himself —or if he should do anything—, he couldn’t even think of how you would react. And just the idea that you wouldn’t like seeing him there made him hide his face more in his dark mask, so instead, he fidgeted with his room card, not daring to look at you for too long.
“Trouble sleeping?” You pondered in a kind tone. He nodded again, and you smiled. He had to hold back the impulse of lowering your jacket just so he could see your bright features, the ones that had charmed him so much barely a couple of hours ago.
“Same here.” You muttered, and he could’ve sworn that your voice alone, warm and soothing, could singlehandedly lull him to sleep in a heartbeat. “Walking helps though, don’t you think?”
He, again, just managed to nod. But for some reason, your presence didn’t make him feel guilty for not talking. In the middle of the night nothing seemed to have any rules between you two and the four walls of the elevator.
“Sorry, am I bothering you?” You asked in a murmur.
It was the first time he shook his head no, vigorously so, and you blushed lightly, smiling.
“Good to know.” You grinned, chuckling softly. The elevator dinged, arriving to the last floor. Chan held back a frustrated groan, yearning to keep hearing your voice.
“Have a good night.” You smiled, but his hand softly took yours.
“Huh?” You muttered softly.
Chan struggled. Fuck, shit, fuck. He had done that completely out of reflex. He didn’t know what to say, and just scrathed the side of his face, staring at your linked hands.
He shook his head once more, asking you to stay.
To you, you already had the weird feeling that you knew him. But he touched your hand, and something from it felt shockingly familiar.
Now, you could’ve sworn you had seen him before.
“What is it?” You asked, your voice coated in something sweet, something that Chan suddenly wanted to taste. “Would you like to walk with me?”
He nodded eagerly. And you grinned sheepishly.
You two crossed through the hotel main’s hall nonchalantly, and Chan just followed you, intriegued that you hadn’t taken the main entrance door to exit.
“Trust me,” you muttered, smiling. He felt it was scary that he would, in a heartbeat. “The gardens are so much better.”
You took his hand. A motion completely out of reflex, that both of you only allowed yourselves to yearn for in silence.
You grinned at him, turning around, and his breath hitched, lips parted beneath his mask when he realized how close you were.
You opened a black door to your right with a soft push of your body.
The hotel gardens at night were like a dream. The moonlight turned everything into a soft, magical scene. Tall trees swayed quietly, and you could hear crickets and leaves rustling. There was a small lake below it, its water calm, that reflected the image above it like a mirror, moon and stars glistening on the clear surface.
Even if Chan was only looking at the glow through your eyes.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You grinned.
You stared back at him. Something in his eyes reminded you of someone you knew. A peculiar someone, that is.
He hummed in agreement, and your smile widened.
“Shall we?” You giggled in a murmur, letting him step outside before you.
There was a warmth in the night that ushered Chan to take off his mask and hat.
But he didn’t dare to. Not yet.
You two walked alongside, hands and knuckles brushing against each other, and the idol allowed himself to grin as you smiled, looking at the flowers that decorated the place. It was the first time in his life that he had found solace in the shared silence of insomnia.
With a swift motion, he surrendered. He felt like it wasn’t fair to know who you where if you didn’t —or couldn’t— recognize him. To hell with it, he thought, taking his hat and mask off.
But, much to his surprise, you didn’t so much as glance at him. You just snickered when he sighed, sounding happier, breathing in the sudden cold breeze that swooshed in the garden.
“Better, huh?” You mumbled in light amusement.
He smiled, shoving his hidden identity in his pockets.
“Much.” Chan muttered.
His heart beat loudly on his ears. He could feel it pulsating rapidly, waiting for the moment where you would turn to face him.
But you weren’t, just strolling down the stone path, callously ignoring his nervous demeanour.
He was about to stop and move you, but instead, your hand took his again.
And then you squeezed it lightly. Much like he had done a couple of hourse ago.
His breath hitched. He stopped walking.
“Chan?” You smiled.
He felt chaos unravel inside him, his cheeks blushing, his palms getting sweaty, and his heart giddily beating in his chest.
Another rush of soft air crossed through the hotel’s gardens, making your hair move with it. He could smell your light scent, something that felt warm inside him, something that he felt could lull him asleep.
You grinned.
“Hi.”
He chuckled lowly. He hadn’t let go of your hand. A part of him didn’t want to. Not yet.
“Hi.”
He saw you blush under the moonlight, not knowing his red-tinted cheeks were more obvious than yours.
“What’s a boy as pretty as you doing in a place like this?”
…
He blinked, his eyes wide.
As what?
He saw you cheek your tongue, doe eyes looking at him teasingly.
Oh. So you knew what you were doing.
He chuckled, thinking that was going to be all your teasing.
“Judging by how long it took for you to talk, I guess you did mean to keep your end of the deal.”
“Huh?” He inquired softly.
“You know.” You bit your lip and blushed a bit more, making him more interested, taking a step towards you without realizing. “Keeping your mouth shut. Like the obedient boy you are.”
He started breathing heavily, a low laugh rolling off his tone.
“Oh, yeah?” His smirk was only powered by yours. “I must say, I can be quite rebellious.”
“Really?” You snickered, feeling his hand squeeze yours again.
“Very.” He gulped. His bravado only lasted for so much, and deep inside, he was equally scared as curious.
He wanted to keep going. He wanted you to stay.
“Are you trying to prove it?” You mocked cheekily.
He stared at your lips, his breath felt heavy. “Would you like me to prove it?”
His hand threatened to reach for your cheek, but it was you who finally held it and moved it towards your face.
“Bet.” You giggled. “You won’t.”
The night air was crisp as your eyes, deep and expressive, locked with his, inviting and enticing, a secret to be held in them. His hair, often styled with flair, rested curly and messy, but you couldn’t help but get lost in the untamed beauty that he portrayed. Not even his lips gently grazing yours could wipe either of your smiles under the moonlight.
And then, for a moment, it wasn’t gentle.
Maybe it was because he sighed against your lips, or maybe it was because you followed an impulse and bit his lower lip, but then it got twisted. Tongues danced with one another, fighting for dominance in a burst of sudden passion.
“C-chan,” you gulped, arms traveling to his nape, playing with his hair. It made him weak.
“Chris,” he sighed, yearning to taste your lips again. And again. He didn’t want to stop. Not yet. “Call me— call me Chris.”
You chuckled. “Only if you call me…”
You were going to tease him, but your ideas suddenly flew away form your mind when he started peppering kisses on your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth.
“What?” He snickered. “A pet name of sorts?” He was teasing you, and he was so enjoying it, tasting the weirdly sweet and enticing flavour of your skin in his lips. “Would you like that, princess?” God, he needed more.
You bit your lip, holding back sounds behind heavy breaths, and he patted your thighs, making you jump into his arms without hesitation. Quickly, he moved the both of you, pinning you against the wall closest to you.
“C-chan…” He bit your skin slightly harder. “Chris! Ah, Chris…!”
“F-fuck…” He muttered. “I… I can’t…” He leaned his head in the crook of your neck, now covered in small and red lovebites. “You smell so good.”
You pecked his forehead, trying to catch your breath, your hands stroking his soft hair.
“Not here, right?” You smiled, soothing, comprehensive. His heart softened.
He nodded, sighting against your neck. He let go of your legs, allowing you to stand back on your feet tenderly.
“I’m sorry….?” Chan mumbled shyly. You giggled, brushing it off.
You were about to say something, but then the gravel cracked under someone’s weight. One that wasn’t either of you.
He tensed up under your arms.
You sighed. “Move!” You ushered in a whisper.
He frowned, his eyes darting from you and from where the sound had come from.
“But you—”
“Chan!” You pushed him away, hiding him behind another wall, and quickly took your phone from the pocket of your jacket, zipping back up what Chris had lowered.
“Who’s in there?”
Chan’s breath haltered.
You had hid him just a wall more, meaning that if the security guard found any of you, chances were that he wouldn’t be caught. You would.
You both held your breathing, hands interlinked even if your bodies were as far away as they could to do so, your heartbeats quickening in sync.
And then, it was just silence for a minute, the gravel cracked below the security guard’s feet, and he left as sudden as he had arrived.
You legs felt like jelly, and you let your back fall down the wall, ending up sitting on the floor with a huff.
“You were going to get in trouble.” Chris muttered.
You looked at him from the floor. The moonlight highlightened his lean figure and charismatic features.
You nodded. “It wouldn’t be me who’d get in the worst of it.” You smiled softly.
He nodded with you.
“We should go before it gets too late.”
Just before heading back together to the elevators, you looked to the reception, and grinned softly.
The elevator back up felt more silent than usual. And for some reason that could speak and make him blush, Chan missed the sound of your voice.
“Good night, Chris.”
It wasn’t going to be a good night.
Not after that interruption, which not only scared the shit out of him, but also made him rethink everything he was doing with you.
Chan arrived back to his room. After half an hour of mindlessly staring at the nightsky through the window, someone knocked on the door.
Could it be you? Chris blushed at the thought.
He opened the door to find nothing. Then, he looked to the floor, and found a mug of hot chocolate and a small note.
may have taken a peek to your room card before. i had fun tonight! see you tomorrow? xoxo, your princess.
He grinned.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad night after all.
[♦️☆🔓☆♦️]
When he woke up the morning after, his mouth still tasted like chocolate.
There had been nothing that could wipe the silly grin on his face that day. Not his packed schedule, not the knowledge that they had to go back home and it would be his last night there, not the fact that Han had come into his room just to look for his missing sock —which, for obvious reasons, he never found there—, not the fact that Hyunjin was still bitter with him because of what he had named the ‘pretty girl disaster’ —which Chan intended to tell you just to see if you’d laugh like he had imagined.
His mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of you.
Your flavoured chapstick, your sweet scent, the way you mumbled his name —his real one, that is—, how your eyes glowed under the moonlight, how his hands fit perfectly in the curves of your waist.
He sighed happily for the upteenth time that day, coming out of the shower.
But then, Minho came in to his room.
“Hyung.” He started, and his low tone didn’t seem to bring good news.
Chan nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“I know I’m not really good at these things, but I think you should see this.”
The dancer handed him the phone, and Chan turned pale.
It was a picture taken from last night. Chan’s silhouette was fairly obvious, slightly pixelated and hidden by his beanie and his mask. And right in front of him, back facing the camera, was you, your hand holding his.
“So it is you. That’s what I thought,” Minho mumbled. “A random number sent it to Hyunjin. He saved the picture and blocked it, but we thought you should know.”
“Did they know it was me?” Chan stuttered.
The cat owner shook his head, and Chan was able to breathe normally again. “They thought it had been me with Jisung.”
It was there when Chan’s daydreaming faltered.
His thoughts started spinning, not knowing how or where to start.
Would you know about this?
What would you do?
“Hyung.” Minho sighed. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”
And Chan hadn’t been able to grasp that, but someone did.
The same someone who knocked on his door at night.
“Guys, you have your own cards.” Chan muttered, opening the door.
But it hadn’t been any of the guys.
“Hi.” You let out in a sight, panting.
Had you ran your way there?
“Hi.” He mumbled weakly.
“Can I…?” He opened the door for you, and quickly closed it back. He turned his back to you, his eyes wide and his heart going crazy.
“Chris.” You mumbled.
He turned around to face you.
“You asked me to stay last night and I went with you to the gardens.” You huffed. “But I want to stay here with you tonight.”
He blinked, passing a hand through his wavy hair. You were there. In front of him. Speaking. God, he had to concentrate.
“We’ll make a deal.” You breathed slowly, staring deeply into his eyes, yearning to know the secrets hidden behind them. “I’ll leave this here.”
You gently plopped your phone on the table near the door to his room. He was still standing there, as if frozen, pyjama pants on and only a bathrobe covering his lean and toned chest.
“A pretty man called Hyunjin came to me talking about some picture,” you started softly. “But yesterday didn’t happen so I’d ruin a man’s career.” His eyes followed how you raised your hands and smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.
“It’s off.” Your voice lowered, and he got slightly closer, as if wanting to hear you better. “The phone, I mean. Feel free to check it.”
Surprisingly, he just stared at it, then smiled cheekily, heading towards you.
Your eyebrows shot up and you felt deliciously small under his new-formed grin, and how his hands cradled your face.
He pecked your lips with a yearning sigh.
“I missed you.”
You blushed.
“You can have me all night.” Your smile made him feel butterflies on his stomach. “Just me and you.”
He kissed you again, longer this time.
His frame slowly caged you against the door, and he broke the kiss, stroking your cheeks. His body was pressed up against yours, his lips parted as he breathed softly, taking you in. He could feel heat running down his body just by the feeling of you back in his arms, and the only thought that he had clear is that he couldn't hold back anymore.
He needed to kiss you, again, and again, and again. He needed to figure out what you tasted like. He needed to have you. Your hands had gone back to where they had been the night before, and the way you stared at his lips threatened to make him fall to his knees.
His eyes were glued on your lips, and not long after, his mouth followed.
Chris’ heart was pounding against his chest, and he knew for a fact that he had never felt this way before. Never in his whole life. The more he tasted your lips, the kiss almost as passionate as your first one, the more you ruined him, claiming him as yours, making him addictied to the way you sighed and grinned as he moved your bodies to the bed, the hotter his body became.
He fell with you on the matress, and much to his surprise, you moved your bodies, sitting on his lap, taking a groan out of him.
“Such a beauty,” you mumbled, almost to yourself rather than him. “All for me, huh?” You smirked.
The whole world was hazy, the only thing that was clear was your body and your words. Just hearing your voice saying those words to him made him shiver, a shiver that he never experienced before.
He smirked too, and sighed when you untied his bathrobe, your hands roaming freely wherever you wanted to, stroking his chest, claiming him with kisses, the soft colour that they left behind, pink due to your lipstick, and the soft scratches of your nails, that made him bite his lip to keep his sounds hidden.
“Nuh-uh.” You tutted at him with a smile.
He snickered. “Oh, princess. Two can play that game.”
His hands pinned you down against the bed, his lips quickly going back to yours.
“You said I needed to keep my tongue to myself, and I promised that I would” He grinned, almost menacingly, lowering himself, trailing kisses down your body, discarding your underwear.
“I intend to break that promise.”
Maybe you and him would be difficult.
But he had asked you to stay, and you did. And he didn’t want to stop trying. Not yet.
[♦️☆🔒☆♦️]
~Kats, who did most of this in a hospital bed (‘m okay now dw) but fell asleep and didn’t publish it, lol. I LOVED THIS IDEA POOKIE TYSM !!
2K notes ¡ View notes
aelinad ¡ 17 days ago
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Staged Romance - Kim Namjoon One-Shot
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Pairing: !Idol Namjoon x f. reader
Genre: explicit romance (smut) !! MINORS DNI !! 🔞
Word count: ~ 28k
Summary: Y/N and Namjoon enter into a mutual agreement to fake date, with Y/N aiming to catch Jimin's attention and Namjoon hoping to win back his ex. What starts as a carefully crafted plan to fool everyone around them slowly begins to unravel as real emotions creep in. With every stolen glance, shared laugh, and moment of vulnerability, they find themselves questioning the boundaries they've set. When pretending becomes indistinguishable from reality, Y/N and Namjoon must decide if this is still part of the plan or the start of something real.
!! Warnings !!: vaginal sex, protected sex, fingering, a bit slow burn, angst, fluff, female riding, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’ll step out for a bit” I said as I stood up from the table where I had been hanging out with the whole BTS group. It was late at night, and after all the filming they had done for their newest Run BTS show, the staff had booked them a two-story house for the night. We had just finished dinner and were chatting at the table while playing some games. Earlier, I had been seated between Namjoon and Taehyung, with Jimin and J-Hope in front of us, and my sister and her boyfriend, Jungkook, to their right. Jin and Suga were tired and had gone to sleep straight after dinner. I decided to step out onto the balcony for a few minutes.
My sister was deeply in love with Jungkook, and he felt the same way about her. I wouldn’t say I was jealous, but my situation with my crush on one of the group members had never progressed any further. Every time we met on days like this, I felt a pang of disappointment. It’s not that I lack the courage to confess my feelings, I just sensed that he wasn’t interested. Jimin had always been polite and kind, and that was that. I tried to distract myself from my feelings as I stared at the view ahead. The night was a bit chilly, so I quickly lit up a cigarette. I had never been a fan of smoking, but life happens and sometimes it leads to bad habits. I put the cigarette between my lips and took out my lighter. After multiple attempts, I kept failing to get it lit.
“Damn, I can’t even light this” I muttered to myself. All this crush drama and the work I had to return to tomorrow made me feel burned out. Sometimes, I wished I could just book a flight and go on vacation to clear my mind.
Then, a small flame lit up in front of my face. I stepped back, surprised.
“I saw you out here and noticed you were struggling with that.” Namjoon said, pointing to the lighter I was clutching.
“Ha! So you could tell from that far that I’m new to this? I don’t even think it’s broken, I just haven’t used it properly. I’ve only done it a few times over the past few days.”
“Never thought I would see you smoke. You should drop it; it’s a bad habit.” Namjoon took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, lighting it and nodding in my direction, telling me to bring mine closer so he could light it.
“You do realize you’re smoking too, even though you said that, and lighting mine isn’t going to make me quit.” I replied as I approached, the cigarette back in between my lips while looking at him.
“I’ll forgive you tonight, you seem to have a lot on your mind judging on how you left earlier.” He said as he came closer, covering the cigarette with his free hand and lighting the cigarette for me, his gaze never breaking mine.
“Joon, I didn’t know you were so observant. But yeah, I do, life’s been rough lately.” I said as I blew my first puff in the air.
“Well, I just hope it isn’t the fault of a particular person,” he teased.
“Huh? Wait, what?” I panicked, feeling my cheeks flush. 
“You like Jimin, don’t you?” At that moment, I think I stopped breathing. He said it so bluntly, like it was a fact. The thought of anyone inside the house overhearing made me incredibly embarrassed. I knew for a fact that no one had heard it, they all were quite loud in there. Besides my sister, no one knew about my feelings.
“What gave that away? Haha! I mean, I have a crush on all of you, in case you didn’t know.” I said nervously, hoping that maybe by saying that, I could hint to him that it was true, but he didn’t have to know the specifics. 
“Yeah, right. You kept staring at him the whole time during dinner and while we played games.”
“Was it that obvious?” I facepalmed myself.
“Let’s say a little bit,” Namjoon said, puffing out some smoke.
There was a brief silence after that, the only sound being the smoke from our cigarettes. I decided to break the silence again.
“Well, now you know the truth, I guess, and as you might know, he doesn’t feel the same way, so these feelings will fade on their own.”
Namjoon turned his head to look at me. “How do you know he doesn’t like you back?”
“Well, he’s never initiated anything like that. I don’t think he’s ever come to talk to me first, it has always been me! Gosh, that sounds so pathetic, right?”
“No, I can see what you mean. Maybe he’s shy and just needs a little push.”
“Like what?” I had heard that so many times from my sister that I couldn’t bear Namjoon saying it again. So I snapped, sounding a bit more on edge than I intended.
“I don’t know, maybe by making him realize what he’s losing out on or something like that.”
“I understand what you mean, but I would like the person I like to know beforehand, not me having to squeeze it out of them.”
“Right, but nobody’s perfect, so you might have to give that small push.”
“Well, I don’t even know how to start…” I trailed off focusing on looking at the ground.
“Use me.”
“What?!?” My head snapped back and I nearly dropped the remainder of my cigarette on the floor. “Aren’t you in a relationship, or did I hear that wrong?”
“Nope, you heard it right. And to answer your other question, I broke up with her a few weeks ago. Actually, she sorta broke up with me. I was thinking about making her jealous to show her what she lost, kinda like your situation. We should help each other out, get what we want, and then go back to normal.”
“Wait, so she broke up with you? What the hell, for real? Her loss though… So does that mean you want to fake-date for a while to see how things turn out? I mean, I’m not against it, but there are a million things that could go wrong. I have to tell my sister about it, and probably Jungkook with his big mouth will spill the beans, and what about the media? How’s that going to work?”
“Well, first, don’t tell your sister the whole truth for now, just spin this whole situation with a white lie. As for the media, we won’t go out in public together—just to closed events that my ex might attend, along with other staff members at nights like this when it’s only us as a group.”
“Right… and how long are we faking this? We can’t just go out there and drop the bomb on the members and be like, ‘Hey guys, we’re dating.’ That will confuse everyone!”
“Don’t worry about that. They might think I’m the jerk who is using you after my ex, but we want Jimin’s attention, don’t we? So he can notice you properly, although now that I’ve said it, you being my fake girlfriend and him having feelings for you kinda hurts my ego.”
“Look who’s jealous now! Haha. But omg, this is crazy, Namjoon. How long have you been planning this?” I questioned him, raising an eyebrow.
“I just thought about it after seeing you here on the balcony.” he said, raising his shoulders, as if it was no big deal.
“Wow, I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“You just don’t. We can discuss everything in detail later. Are you in or not?”
My mind was racing. I had always been very calculative, I’d never been spontaneous, like those people who book a flight within a day and leave for a trip, returning a month later, especially not like this. But something about Namjoon’s plan made me feel safe. Yes, it would cause a little drama in the group, but I doubted it would lead to anything major, right? 
“Fuck it. Yes, I’m in… but we are definitely setting some rules later on.”
“Then shall we?” Namjoon extended his hand toward mine, motioning towards the room. I let him take it, and we both smiled at each other as we walked back hand in hand where the others were.
***
The room had changed since I quickly left for the balcony. Now, everyone was engaged in different activities. My sister and Jungkook were deep in conversation, laughing about something, while J-hope was dancing to some background music. Taehyung and Jimin were laughing loudly, watching him. Namjoon and I walked toward the table, still holding hands. J-hope noticed us first, abruptly stopping his dance and screamed loudly, shaking the whole house. You could hear Yoongi and Jin coming out of their rooms, frustrated about the commotion.
J-hope’s eyes widened, and everyone followed his gaze to our linked hands. My eyes instinctively searched Jimin's face. I couldn’t pinpoint his reaction; he clearly wasn’t laughing anymore, but his expression was unfazed, and I had no idea what he might be thinking.
“Y/N! Why are you holding hands with Namjoon?” my sister exclaimed, rising from her chair in shock. I had anticipated her reaction, but at that moment, my throat went dry. I didn’t know what excuse to give. It looked like Namjoon sensed my hesitation. He squeezed my hand once and stepped toward my sister, not letting go of my grip.
“Well, you caught us! We just started dating this week and didn’t want to keep it from you guys any longer, so we decided to announce it today. Y/N was telling me that you might kill her later if we dragged this out without telling everyone,” Namjoon said, while everyone stood in silence. From time to time, I averted my gaze from him to Jimin, who didn’t bother to look at me directly but was actively listening to his hyung.
“Well, congrats, guys! Is this why J-hope screamed?” Suga said, yawning. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“Yeah, me too. But congrats!” Jin added as he headed back to his room.
“Whoa, that explains why you guys were seated next to each other today!” Taehyung said, covering his mouth as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have.
“I noticed you following her after she excused herself, but I didn’t think you were dating, hyung,” J-hope chimed in.
“Y/N, as long as you’re happy I am too but you have to tell me all the details later,” my sister said. “Yeah, congrats, guys! Now your sister and I won’t be the only couple here!”Jungkook exclaimed.
“Thanks, everyone,” I said, smiling at how supportive they were, even though this was all just a facade. I really hoped they wouldn’t be upset later when we had to tell them that we were ‘’breaking up’’.
“Didn’t you just break up with your ex, Namjoon?” Jimin finally spoke up. I hadn’t expected him to go after Namjoon like that.
“Yes, she dumped me weeks ago, but I always had my eyes on Y/N. She’s different, as you might have noticed,” Namjoon replied, turning to me with a smile.
“Congrats, then,” Jimin said, rising from his chair. “I’m going to sleep, I’m actually tired.” He glanced at Taehyung, probably signaling him to follow since they were sharing a room.
“Thanks, bro. We should probably all go to sleep anyway, it’s late.” Namjoon pulled me closer and kissed my cheek before leaving quickly, leaving everyone stunned.
The room fell silent, and I could feel my cheeks heating up. I probably looked like a teenage girl who just interacted with her crush. His gesture was making this feel less fake than it was. Damn him.
Everyone was looking at me, including Jimin, who slowly looked me up and down before leaving after Namjoon.
“Well, Y/N, I’m happy for you and Namjoon. You seem to like each other a lot! We can tease you two later. I’m off to sleep, too. Bye!” J-hope said, dragging Taehyung with him as they left.
It was just me, Jungkook, and my sister now.
“I’ll leave you girls to it. Goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight, love,” Jungkook quickly pecked my sister on the lips and left the living room.
“Look, let’s discuss this tomorrow; I want to sleep too!” I quickly fake yawned looking at my sister.
“No way, sissy! We’re staying up all night until you give me all the details!” she said and pulled my arm towards our room.
Great, this is going to be a long night.
*** The next morning, I woke up after only two hours of sleep. The late-night conversation I had with my sister about Namjoon made everything feel surreal. Sure, I’d lied a bit, letting her believe that this was real, but she’d understand later, I didn’t want her accidentally telling Jungkook and blowing our cover.
I grabbed my phone, got up, and started dressing to go for a walk to clear my head. I decided to just wear something casual , a white tank top and jeans. Mid-change, my sister woke up.
“Y/N, what’s with all the noise? I want to sleep,” she groaned.
“You’d have slept better if you hadn’t insisted on talking last night,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you going to Namjoon’s already?” she teased getting up to look at me.
I finished putting on my top and headed toward the door. “I’m getting coffee first. See you later.”
As I opened the door and took a step forward, I smacked right into a firm chest. After a second, my blurry vision cleared, and I looked up to see Namjoon, his fist raised as if about to knock.
“Ouch,” I muttered, rubbing my head.
“You alright?” he asked, concerned in his voice.
“Oh my god, Joon! She was just coming to you!” my sister shouted from her bed.
“Is that true?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.
I quickly closed the door so my sister couldn’t hear or see us anymore. “No,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.
“Sure,” he replied, his dimples showing in a playful grin. 
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Can’t confirm or deny.”
“So, what are you doing here?” I asked, curious.
“Well, you mentioned we had some unfinished ‘rules’ to go over. I figured since everyone’s still asleep, I’d come get you and finalize everything.”
“What if I hadn’t answered the door? I barely slept last night.”
“I’d have walked in,” he said with a shrug.
“You wouldn’t dare…”
“Scared, Y/N?”
“Me? Never. But seriously, what if I was changing? And I share a room with my sister.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” he teased, earning a smack on the arm from me.
“Ouch! Relax, I’m joking. We need to make this look convincing, you know, we can’t act like just friends.”
“Fine. Just save it for when others are around, then.”
“Alright, let’s head to the park nearby. I doubt anyone would be there to recognize us this early.”
“Sure.”
***
We found ourselves sitting on a bench at the park. It was early, and no one else was around.
“So, I think we should come up with some rules, like they do in the movies,” I suggested.
“Don’t people end up falling for eachother in the movies when they say this?” he questioned me.
“Hello! You know what I mean, stop joking around.” I said, slapping his arm.
“Okay okay…I’m up for whatever you’re comfortable with, Y/N. You say your rules, and I’ll say mine.”
“Fine. So, this is kind of cliché, but no kissing unless absolutely necessary, like if people are starting to suspect something. I don’t want this to be too… cheesy.”
“I understand that,” he said, nodding. “But if you want to kiss me, Y/N, just say so.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”
“Okay, I’m fine with other PDA stuff. But you have to let me know if you’re seeing anyone for real or if that ex returns. I don’t want to interfere with anything important. Same goes for me if, say, Jimin confesses or something. And this lasts for a maximum of two months. We’re not dragging this out. Deal?”
“Yeah, yeah, deal. It’s all in here, don't worry .” He tapped his head with his index finger following along with a grin. “Anything else you want to add?” I replied.
“Yeah, just one thing: promise not to fall in love with me.”
I gave him a deadpan look, but he burst into laughter. “You should’ve seen your face! I’ve always wanted to say that line.”
“Unbelievable. Are you serious? I thought you were better than this!” I laughed, shaking my head.
“Hey, I’ve always been this way,” he replied with a wink.
“Sure, sure…”
***
We decided to head back to the house after our chat. As we approached, Namjoon standing beside me suddenly took my hand and pulled me towards him. Now we were standing face to face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, leaning close. “Shh, he’s watching. Right there, on the balcony.”His head made a gesture leaning slightly forward towards the balcony’s direction but I didn't dare to turn my head and look.
And just like that, we walked toward the entrance, hand in hand.
“Here come the newlyweds!” Taehyung  shouted as soon as we stepped in.
“Y/N, does this make you the group’s ‘mom’? Since Namjoon’s the dad and leader?” J-hope joked laughing.
Namjoon released my hand and muttered to me, “Gotta grab something from my room.” He slipped away, and I turned to J-hope, who was eagerly awaiting an answer.
“Yes, I guess I’m the mom now!” I declared, making a playful grab for him. He bolted, and I chased him into the living room while everyone laughed and shouted at us to stop.
We finally stopped running when Jimin came down the stairs, and I bumped into him, making us both fall to the floor.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, didn’t see you there!” I said flustered.
Jimin stood up quickly and stretched a hand out to help me, but before I could grab it, Namjoon stepped in and helped me up instead.
“I leave for one second and you already have other guys all over you Y/N,” Namjoon teased looking at Jimin and me.
“Not my fault! Blame J-hope,” I said, playfully glaring at him.
“Me?? I didn’t do anything!” J-hope protested from across the room.
“You’ve done it now, J-hope! You made Namjoon unhappy. Run for your life!” Jungkook shouted, grinning.
Namjoon took off after J-hope, and I was left standing next to Jimin.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his eyebrows slightly shooting upwards.
“Yeah, don’t worry.”
***
The rest of the day passed with a few more playful teases from the guys. The shoot was over yesterday, and we were all getting ready to leave. As everyone packed their things, we gathered in the living room to say our goodbyes. J-hope and Taehyung were still struggling to pack up so everyone decided to just stay downstairs till they finished.  As for me I hadn’t gotten much sleep, and I felt myself starting to doze off on the couch.
Just before I drifted off, my phone buzzed with a message from Namjoon. I looked up to see him watching me with a small smile.
Namjoon: It was a close call earlier
Y/N: Close call for what?  I replied, confused. 
Namjoon: Jimin helping you and being all touchy
Y/N: Yeah, why did you interfere then?
Namjoon: You need to play hard to get.
I rolled my eyes at him, and he sent me a screenshot of our text conversation. Confused, I opened it to see if anything looked different but couldn’t figure it out.
Namjoon: I can see that confused look, I already changed your contact name to ‘Y/N <3’. Change mine, too.
“Fine,” I muttered.
After thinking about it, I matched him and set his name to ‘Namjoon <3’. I took a screenshot and sent it back to him.
His only reply was a single red heart.
***
After we left that day, Namjoon and I didn’t have much reason to meet up. We texted here and there, so my phone lit up with his name from time to time for my sister to see and his phone with my name for the boys. Although lately with the guys’ busy schedules, we didn’t actually hang out. Two weeks passed like this.
One day, my sister casually brought it up. “You know, even when he’s busy, Jungkook comes to see me. I haven’t seen you and Namjoon together at all. Are you guys even dating?”
I panicked. Was it that obvious? “Of course we are! He’s just been busy, but we talk every day. I was just about to visit him at the company,” I replied quickly, hoping she’d buy it. I didn’t even know Namjoon’s schedule for the day, so I could only hope he’d be there.
“Really? Jungkook mentioned they’re rehearsing a new choreography and might be there late tonight.”
Maybe I should go there just for today to clear any suspicions out .“Yep, I knew that! Well, see ya!” I said, grabbing my things and rushing out the house.
After a quick stop at the nearest convenience store to grab snacks for everyone, I tried calling Namjoon three times, but he didn’t pick up. Finally, I decided to just head to the company and hope for the best.
When I arrived at the building, I used the staff access card my sister had gotten from Jungkook. Despite Namjoon and I being a “couple,” no one else at the company knew, aside from the guys, so it would’ve been suspicious for me to have my own card.
I knew they’d be in one of the practice rooms, but there were a lot on the second floor, and other groups seemed to be practicing there at the same time. I tried my best not to look suspicious as I moved closer to each door, listening for any familiar music, hoping to recognize one of BTS’s new singles.
After several tries, I finally heard that familiar tune I was looking out for. I waited outside until the music stopped, indicating they were either taking a break or resetting. Once it was quiet, I slipped inside.
They were all there, gathered in front of a camera, analyzing their dance moves. Jimin noticed me first and gave a small smile.
The others must have caught on because Namjoon and the guys turned their heads toward me.
“Y/N!” J-hope shouted, “What are you doing here? Missed Joon already?”
I didn’t even bother responding. Namjoon quickly walked over and asked, “What are you doing here?” He positioned himself in front of me to shield me from the others’ view.
“Well, I tried calling three times to let you know I was coming, but you didn’t pick up. What else was I supposed to do?” I lowered my voice. “People are getting suspicious, you know. My sister even asked why we never hung out since announcing we were together.”
“I’ve been busy, as you can see…”
“I noticed, which is why I came here to act like the girlfriend who missed you and all that corny stuff.”
“Right… Okay, go on with the show.”
I looked over his shoulder to see if the other members were still watching, and they were, especially Jimin, who gave me a look that made me wonder if he was jealous or just amused. I set the snacks on the floor, wrapped my arm around Namjoon’s waist, and hugged him tightly.
“Bear with it for me a bit, Joon,” I whispered.
He didn’t reply, he just hugged and squeezed me back. After a couple of seconds, I let go, picked up the snacks, and walked over to the guys.
“Yes, J-hope, you’re right. But who said I don’t miss you all too? I also brought some snacks, I wasn't sure what everyone liked, so I just got a bit of everything.”
“WOAH! Y/N, you’re the best!” Taehyung shouted, rushing over to peek into the bags.
Jimin stepped up and took the bags from me, gently brushing my hand as he thanked me before taking them to a nearby table. The others gathered around while Namjoon stayed beside me. I felt his presence and turned to him. “We need to talk.”
“Can we do it after the shoot? We’ve got one more left.”
“Oh…” Feeling shy, I blurted out, “Can I stay and watch? Not in a creepy way, just until you’re done so we can talk privately.”
“Yes, I’d like that… I mean, yeah, sure. The others might think it’s cute, you waiting around like a proper girlfriend.”
“Hey, I am a good girlfriend, thank you very much! … Wait, do you think it’s cute when girls stay and watch you practice?”
“Not all girls, just my girlfriend,” he said with a wink.
“Oh please, you act like you’ve had so many.” I rolled my eyes.
“I won’t tell you how many, but… what I’m trying to say is, I want you to stay.”
“Okay…”I didn't know how to respond to that. But I had already decided that I wanted to stay.
“Joon, let’s finish this up so we can dig into the snacks!” Jin called from the table.
“Coming!” Namjoon replied, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before heading back. It always catches me off guard when he does that. Flustered, I found a chair near the corner where the camera couldn’t catch me.
Soon, the music started, and all seven of them moved in perfect sync. My eyes traveled first to Jimin, his moves were fluid and perfectly on beat. Then I glanced at Namjoon, whose dancing had a different but equally captivating vibe. I couldn’t help but fangirl a little, watching them perform up close reminded me of just how professional they were. I didn’t even realize I’d been staring at Namjoon the entire time.
When the music stopped, everyone cheered, “Good job, everyone!”
I swear I heard Suga mutter, “Finally, I can go to sleep now.”
I laughed to myself, watching their reactions, and before I knew it, Jimin was standing in front of me.
“Hey, I think you bought too many snacks. Want to come over to the table and share with us?”
“Sure,” I replied, realizing I was actually hungry. “I left in a hurry to get here and might’ve skipped lunch.”
As I sat down at the table with everyone, Jimin took the seat right next to me. But Namjoon was nowhere to be seen—he’d disappeared entirely. Curious, I quickly slipped my phone under the table and messaged him to ask where he was. I must’ve looked worried, because Jin caught on and leaned over with a gentle smile.
“Hey, Y/N, is everything alright? Want some ramen? I’m prepping some now.”
“Oh, yes, thank you, Jin! Everything’s fine, don’t worry!” I replied, brushing off my concern. Namjoon was probably in the restroom or something. I started to dig in as Jin placed a warm bowl of ramen in front of me.
“So, Y/N, how far have you and Namjoon gone?” Taehyung teased, grinning mischievously.
I nearly choked on my noodles, coughing as Jimin shot Taehyung a sharp look and patted my back gently.
“Tae, that’s really none of your business,” Jimin retorted, his voice carrying a protective edge.
Taehyung just shrugged and grinned wider. “Come on, Jimin, we’re all friends here, right, Y/N? Where did Joon-hyung go either way? If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t leave you for one second alone!”
“Good thing you’re not her boyfriend then—you’d drive her insane,” Jimin muttered, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, like you’re any better, Mr. Single,” Taehyung shot back.
“Not for long,” Jimin whispered, almost too low to hear. I turned to him with a curious look, only to see Taehyung caught off-guard, equally stunned.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, standing up. “Gonna drag Namjoon back here so he doesn’t miss all the food.’”
I headed to the hallway, scanning the area for him. When he wasn’t on the second floor, I went downstairs, guessing he might be in the smoking area by the parking lot. I tried calling him, but he didn’t pick up. After twenty minutes of looking, I finally found him, but he wasn’t alone. A woman stood close, and from the look of things, they were deep in conversation. I approached quietly, not wanting to intrude, but as I got closer, I couldn’t help but overhear.
“How have you been?” she asked softly. “You know I have missed you.”’ she said while rocking in place and tracing her fingers along his bicep.
“Fine,” Namjoon replied, his voice tight, while staring at her hand. “What else do you want me to say? You know why we ended things. What do you want now, why are you here?”
Without a second thought, I stepped up beside Namjoon, slipping my arm through his yanking him away from her touch. “There you are, babe!” I said, smiling sweetly. “The guys have been waiting for you to join us.”
Namjoon looked over, startled, just as the woman frowned. “Excuse me, but who are you?”
I gave her a calm but pointed smile. “Who am I? The real question is who are you?”
“She’s…my ex,” Namjoon muttered, seeming caught between confusion and discomfort.
“Ah,” I said, squeezing his arm a bit. “In case you missed it, I’m his current girlfriend. And I plan on being the last, right, babe?”
Namjoon’s eyes went wide for a moment before he quickly nodded. “Uh…yeah.”
His ex scoffed. “Right. Is this some joke to make me jealous, Namjoon? You know these things don’t work with me. I know us so let’s go somewhere to talk alone shall we?”
Great, I thought. Typical ex drama. But I kept my cool. “No need, we will be leaving together instead…” I said with a tight smile.
I tugged on Namjoon’s arm to lead him away. “Come on babe, everyone’s waiting,” I said and Namjoon quickly added, “see you around!”
“Or not,” I added, giving her one last look before we left. As we walked arm-in-arm back to the elevator, I leaned closer to Namjoon, whispering, “What’s going on with you? You tell me to act like your girlfriend, and then you turn into a deer in headlights in front of her. She probably figured it out that we’re faking this.”
Namjoon seemed distracted, barely listening. “I know, sorry…it was just…unexpected.”
“Okay, so…are you on track to getting back with her?” I asked carefully, watching Namjoon’s face. “I mean, you should if that’s what you want. That’s why we started this whole fake-dating thing, anyway.” I sighed, suddenly feeling the messiness of the situation. “Besides, I don’t even know if Jimin is interested in me or not. He said something really confusing earlier…”
Namjoon and I stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed with a soft chime. He looked at me, pausing thoughtfully before he replied. “It’s complicated, Y/N, but I’m not going to break our two-month agreement now that the guys know. I gave you my word, remember?”
I nodded, somewhat reassured. “I thought so. Not to be rude, but…your ex seems like a…” I paused, choosing my words. “Not so very nice, let’s just say that.”
Before Namjoon could respond, the elevator shuddered and came to an abrupt halt between floors, the lights flickering for a split second before dimming to an emergency glow.
“Oh, come on, seriously?” I groaned, glancing up. “This is a high-end building, how does the elevator just get stuck?”
Namjoon placed a calming hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry; just press the emergency button. They’ll fix it within a few minutes. No need to panic.”
“Right, yeah.” I rang the emergency bell and leaned back against the wall. “But still, I bet my ramen’s cold or eaten by now…” I muttered. I glanced at him, and he still seemed distant, like his thoughts were a million miles away. “Namjoon, are you even listening to me? You’ve been in a daze since we ran into her, is there something I should know?” I said, folding my arms.
“Y/N, can you stop?” he snapped suddenly, his voice sharper than I’d ever heard it.
I jumped slightly, startled by his tone. I was just trying to help. He looked regretful almost instantly but moved toward me, trapping me against the wall of the small elevator, his expression serious.
“I told you, it’s complicated. And it’s not just about her anymore, so can we drop it for now, please?”
“Why are you getting so worked up over all this?” I protested, meeting his gaze. “I was only trying to help. You know, you asked me to be your ‘girlfriend’, but you barely act like my boyfriend. Then when I do step in, you get all flustered.”
He sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead and leaning closer, so close that I could feel his breath. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s just…she cheated on me. She didn’t break up with me, I ended it because I found out. I really cared about her, but after that, I just felt…worthless. Like I don’t deserve to be loved.”
His confession hung heavy in the air. I felt a wave of empathy for him, my face softening at his confession. “Namjoon…you are one of the kindest people I know. You’re a great guy, and if anyone I know deserves love, it’s you. Don’t doubt that for a second.”
He looked at me, his gaze softening and our eyes meeting. For a brief moment, he seemed to forget everything. His ex, the fake relationship, everything but the two of us in this tiny, dim elevator. He glanced down, and I felt the brush of his nose near mine, our faces inches apart.
“You say that, but you still like Jimin,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, almost vulnerable. “And that…feels unfair, doesn’t it?”
My heart skipped a beat. “I…” I started, but the words wouldn’t come. A warm flush rose to my cheeks as I met his gaze, and in that instant, his eyes flicked to my lips, lingering there for just a second before he looked away, resting his head on my shoulder. It felt as though all the tension and worry had finally let go, but as if on cue, the elevator doors slid open with a soft ping, revealing two maintenance staff…and Jimin and J-hope.
J-hope burst into laughter at the sight. “Well, well, Namjoon. Didn’t know you were so…romantic,” he teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
“Are you two alright?” one of the staff members asked, extending a hand to help us out of the elevator. Namjoon stepped out first, then turned, offering me his hand, which I took, feeling more flustered than I’d expected.
Jimin stayed silent, watching us with an unreadable expression, Namjoon’s hand not letting mine go the whole time.
"I've always been like this. You just didn't need to know," he replied to J-hope.
"Oh, I mean as long as Y/N knows," J-hope chimed in with a smirk.
Namjoon and I didn’t respond, but he quickly leaned over and whispered that he had something to handle with the staff. He asked me to wait with the others until he returned.
Jimin spoke up first. "How long were you guys in there? We just heard the bell from the hallway."
"Yeah, Jimin was getting worried since you were taking so long," J-hope added. "So we came to check for you when we heard the alarm."
I was surprised, my mouth slightly open. I hadn’t expected Jimin to be so concerned. It was unusual... and kind of nice?
"Oh, thank you for looking out for me," I replied, glancing at Namjoon, who was handing some cash to the maintenance guys. He quickly came back over, giving us a knowing look.
"I’ll explain along the way," he murmured as he leaned closer to my ear.
Taking my hand, he led us back toward the practice room, with Jimin and J-hope trailing behind. Once we were a bit farther from them, Namjoon spoke quietly. "I had to give the staff some money to keep them from spreading rumors about us. We only wanted the guys to know, and well... my ex. Speaking of which, what did you want to discuss again? Sorry for earlier, I rushed to get a hoodie from my car downstairs and ran into her. That’s why I was late. You know the rest."
"Oh, that explains it. Don’t worry about why I came here to talk —I just needed to convince my sister that we’re still together since we haven’t been going on any dates lately. I called you earlier while I was looking for you but you didn’t pick up.” I paused, then asked, “Do you even have my number because you act like you don't." I said with a sigh.
"C’mon, babe, you know I’ve got it," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and glancing back at Jimin. "I’ll make sure to call you every day from now on and promise to answer every text and call."
"Alright, you better! Also the other reason I came here was that…. I was thinking we should go out one of these days, just for an hour or so, and take a few couple photos. We don’t have any of those, and it’d be nice to have them on our phones. No need to do anything too extravagant, you know typical couples things."
"Sure, but we could also take one right now," he said, pulling out his phone. He lifted the phone, leaned his head close to mine, closed his eyes, and flashed his dimples before snapping the photo, his arm still wrapped around me, catching me completely off guard.
"There, you look cute," Namjoon said, smiling. "I just sent it to you."
"You know we can still see you guys, right? We’re just behind you!" J-hope called out, laughing.
"Now you know, J-hope. I’m shameless when it comes to love."
I felt my face heat up and turned away, bowing a little to the guys as a silent apology.
When we finally made it back to the practice room, the others were still eating. Besides my snack, they’d ordered fried chicken. They must have been starving.
*** After everyone finished up, I greeted the guys one last time, giving each of them a hug before deciding to make my way back home.This time, I opted for the stairs instead of the elevator, my heart racing as I recalled the moment I shared with Namjoon. I couldn’t help but blush, replaying that exchange in the lift. If no one had interrupted us, would it have led to a kiss? I facepalmed, trying to shake off the thought.
I shouldn’t be thinking like this. Namjoon probably still had feelings for his ex, despite the way she had treated him. And then there was Jimin, my feelings for him were still tangled up in my mind. I sighed as I made my way down the stairs, anxiety swirling within me.
I suddenly heard hurried footsteps coming down the stairs, and panic surged through me. What if a crazy sasaeng saw me today and felt jealous? I quickened my pace, and as I rushed down, my vision became blurry. I lost my balance and found myself almost flying through the air, heading straight for the ground. Just as I felt gravity take hold, two strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me backward with such force that I bumped into something or rather someone. I managed to escape the tangled position and looked up to find Namjoon groaning.We both ended up on the floor, with his back against the wall crushed with his legs spread apart and me sitting between them. “Oh my god, Joon, what are you doing here? Didn’t you leave with the guys?”
“That’s the first thing you ask me? Not ‘Are you okay? Does anything hurt?’ or the fact that I just saved your life?” he hissed a bit in pain.
‘’Oh, that too! I am so sorry…. I quickly looked around gathering my words. “Let me explain!” Taking a deep breath I started explaining. ”I became paranoid and thought some crazy fan was following me. Why else would they take the stairs? No one knows that the elevator got stuck except us and the other guys. I mean, I thought I was about to be assaulted! I–uh … sorry, I should have turned my head and looked back. Don't mind me , I am… such a mess. How am I supposed to handle dating an idol like this? Maybe I shouldn’t even bother with dating at all, this girlfriend thing doesn’t seem to suit me.” I kept mumbling, and Namjoon kept looking at me with the same gaze I had seen back in the elevator. I think a tear escaped my eye, and he reached out, swiping it away with his thumb. Then, his hand locked onto the back of my head, pulling my head into his firm chest. “I’m sorry you went through that. Don’t worry, the company is safe most of the time,” Namjoon said quietly.
I let out a breath I had been holding and inhaled, catching a whiff of his scent. It was comforting.
“Y/N, I don’t think you understand how much any of the guys would love to date you now that they’ve seen how cute you act around me. I mean, you are my girlfriend, after all. The reason I came after you is simple: I wanted to drive you home. I’m pretty sure you walked all the way here carrying those snacks by yourself, not letting anyone help you. I thought I could take my car and drive you safely so we could discuss the date we’re going on along the way. But after I told the guys goodbye, you had disappeared, and I knew you wouldn’t dare take the elevator. I know you. After everything that happened, I rushed down the stairs after you. Maybe I should have called out your name to make it clearer that it was me. I’m sorry.”
I looked up at him, creating a bit of space between us. "You have nothing to apologize for. And yes, I’d actually love for you to drive me back; it sounds nice. Thanks for saving me… again haha."
I asked him once more if he was okay and if we needed to go to the hospital, worried that the bump might have had an impact. But he brushed it off, saying this was nothing compared to the rough training days he’d endured as a trainee. With some hesitation, I let it slide, for now. 
We both laughed as we stood up and made our way to the parking lot where Namjoon had parked his car. Trying to lighten the mood after the incident, I joked, "It would be funny if your ex was waiting by your car, you know."
He glanced back at me, smirking. "I doubt it. I think you scared her off."
I scoffed. "I mean, she was all over you, and that pissed me off. Especially now that I know what she did to you… she deserved more of a scolding. I can’t believe people like her exist."
Namjoon raised a brow, grinning. "Careful, Y/N, you're starting to sound a little jealous."
"Huh? I’m just saying she shouldn’t be touching you like that. I’d feel the same way if anyone did that to one of my friends! This isn’t jealousy," I replied, looking away.
Namjoon chuckled as he pulled out his car keys and unlocked the car. We got in, and he began adjusting his seatbelt and checking his mirrors. I couldn’t help but find it a little endearing, so I quickly snapped a photo of him without him noticing. I just wanted a memory of all this when it was over.
Once he started the engine and began driving, we discussed when he was free to meet up again.
"I'm free tomorrow evening since we got most of the filming done today. How does that sound for you? Are you free?"
"Let me check my calendar," I replied, pulling out my phone to double-check. "Pretty sure I’m free too." After confirming I had no meetings or other plans, I smiled at him. "Yep, tomorrow evening works!"
"Perfect. I’ll need just three hours of your time."
"Only three hours? Wow, Namjoon, you really know how to disappoint a girl!" I laughed, teasing him. "Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘Give me the whole evening, baby!’"
Namjoon shook his head, chuckling. "Well, I was trying not to be too greedy, especially since you were the one who originally suggested just an hour. But hey, if you're offering…" He grinned, glancing over at me. "Actually, I don’t know if your sister mentioned it yet, but Jungkook has been bugging me for weeks about a double date. I finally told him I’d consider it, only if you said yes, of course. It could help clear any doubts your sister has about us… but it's totally up to you."
"Wow, you really thought this through, didn’t you?" I replied, impressed. "Sure, I don’t mind going on a double date with you guys if it helps. So… where are we meeting again tomorrow?"
"I’ll text you the location later. It’s a surprise," he replied, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Look at you, trying to make a girl feel special, huh?" I teased.
"If it’s you, I don’t mind going all out," Namjoon said softly, turning his head to meet my gaze. I just stared at him, eyes wide.
A beep from the GPS broke the moment, snapping me back to reality. I hadn’t realized how quickly time had flown and Namjoon had already parked near my place.
"Guess we’re here," I murmured, feeling a strange sense of disappointment.
"Yeah… already," he whispered, almost to himself.
I unbuckled my seatbelt, preparing to leave, when I suddenly felt his hand resting gently on my thigh.
"Stay still," he said in a low, quiet voice.
I froze, my mind going blank as I looked up at him, heart pounding. But before I could process it, he was already out of the car, walking over to my side. He opened my door, extending his hand to help me out, the softest hint of a smile on his face.
What a tease. I thought to myself, holding back a grin. "Keep this up, Namjoon, and you’re going to make every girl fall in love with you," I said, raising an eyebrow.
He laughed softly, his hand still holding mine. "Maybe I only need one girl to."
***
When I got back home, my sister was exactly where I’d left her, sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She glanced up, grinning. “So, how was Namjoon? And the guys?”
“Good. I’ll fill you in later; I’m exhausted. Going to bed,” I replied, stifling a yawn.
“This early? It’s only 8:30pm!” she called, giving me a suspicious look.
I smirked. “Well, I have a date tomorrow, so I need my beauty sleep. Night!” I rushed to my room, giggling as my sister yelled after me, begging for details.
As I shut the door, I couldn’t help but smile. This whole fake relationship wasn’t so bad after all, I was actually having fun. And Namjoon was surprisingly perfect at being my “boyfriend”. After changing into my pajamas, I replayed the events of the day in my mind, from our moment in the elevator to the way he’d looked at me during the drive home. With a contented sigh, I slowly drifted off to sleep, the memory of his warm smile lingering like a gentle whisper in the back of my mind. *** Instead of giving me the location for our meet-up, Namjoon just texted to be ready by six, saying he’d pick me up himself. I guess he really didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Right on time, I waited by the entrance, and soon enough, a car pulled up. The window rolled down, revealing Namjoon in the driver’s seat, wearing a low-brim hat. Even with tinted windows, he was clearly taking extra precautions. Despite that, he still got out of the car and opened the door for me.
"Hi," he greeted as we both settled in, setting up the GPS to navigate. As he drove us through unfamiliar streets, I couldn’t help my curiosity.
"So… can you finally tell me where we’re going?" I asked, leaning over with a grin. "I’ve been dying to know."
“You don’t need to hype it up too much," he chuckled, glancing over with a shy smile. "It’s just a place I thought we could go to let loose for a bit, and afterward, I’ll take you back to my place to eat. My mom’s cooked a few dishes for me, but if you’d rather do takeout, we can do that, too."
“That sounds perfect! And we can take the photos there, too no need to worry about people spotting us. A lot of couples do such stuff at home anyway.”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Do… what at home, Y/N?"
I flushed, immediately backtracking. "Ya! That came out so wrong! I mean… couples do photoshoots at home, that’s all I meant! Nothing else."
“Right, photoshoots…” he teased, his dimples showing as he fought a laugh.
The drive was about thirty minutes from my place, but with all our teasing back and forth, we seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. When we pulled up to a sleek building, Namjoon got out and took my hand, guiding me inside. At the counter, he had the tickets already pulled up on his phone, so the staff barely looked at us, though he was still keeping his cap low just in case.
Looking around, I started piecing things together. We were in an escape room building, and it clicked. I'd once mentioned wanting to try one with all the members someday. Namjoon must’ve remembered. While I was still taking in the space, he released my hand, turning to me with a smirk.
“So, figured it out yet?” he asked.
“Yes!" I laughed, buzzing with excitement. "This is amazing, I love it! We better get out on time, though. You’re known for being smart, so I expect you to really bring it tonight!”
He chuckled. “Alright, but heads-up: there are paid actors involved, and it’s a scary maze. Just watch out for that.”
“Ay ay, captain.”
***
We made it out with ten minutes to spare, and I was still cracking up over Namjoon’s reactions to the jump scares. For someone who’d warned me, he was definitely the one who got startled the most. The theme was intense, a hospital infested with zombies, where we had to find the antidote and escape. Despite all the screaming, Namjoon seemed to have had as much fun as I did. As we left the maze, I was still playfully nudging his shoulder, trying to stifle my laughter.
Just then, a staff member approached us, causing both of us to freeze momentarily. I worried he might recognize Namjoon, but the employee just smiled.
"Congrats! You both finished on time! We actually have a new feature where players who beat the game can take a souvenir photo, something to remember your victory by. Would you both be interested?"
I glanced at Namjoon, checking to see if he was okay with it. To my surprise, he nodded.
“Joon, are you sure?” I whispered. “What if someone recognizes you?”
He shrugged with a reassuring smile. "I doubt it. Plus, the whole point of this date was to make memories.. And take photos."
“Alright!” I smiled back, feeling a little thrill as we posed for the camera.
Namjoon slipped his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him slightly, flashing a peace sign as the staff member took the photo with a Polaroid camera. Moments later, he handed us the printout, a perfect little snapshot of our night. *** After we finished taking photos, we made our way to Namjoon’s house, stopping to grab some drinks along the way. His mom had cooked some delicious side dishes, and we also ordered fried chicken, along with the inevitable soju, of course.
Once we arrived, we decided to put on some background music and set up the food in the living room, sitting on the floor across from each other. As Namjoon dug into his fried chicken, I couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction to the crispy skin.
“Here, let me get a picture of that!” I said, quickly snapping a photo of him mid-bite, his eyes wide in delight.
He chuckled, his mouth full. “You’re just going to keep embarrassing me, aren’t you?”
“Only a little! But I can’t help it. You look adorable!” I replied, scooting closer to him. “Now let’s take some of those selfies!”
As we snapped pictures together, I felt a warm flutter in my stomach. Namjoon grabbed my phone and started taking candid shots of me, making silly faces that had me laughing uncontrollably. His playful antics were contagious, and soon we were caught up in a whirlwind of laughter, striking goofy poses and trying to outdo each other with the most ridiculous expressions.
“Wait, do that again!” I said between giggles, holding up my hands as if I were trying to frame a perfect shot. “I want to capture your best ‘surprised zombie’ face!”
He obliged, widening his eyes and dropping his mouth open comically. “How about this?” he asked, pretending to stumble toward me like a zombie.
“Perfect!” I said, snapping the photo just in time. We took so many in different poses, wanting to ensure we had plenty of options for later. “I can’t wait to look at these in detail later and see which ones make the cut.”
After a few more rounds of photos, I suggested, “Okay, one last serious one! Let’s try a cute couple pose!”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow playfully. “You mean a ‘we're definitely not just friends’ pose?”
“Exactly!” I laughed, leaning into him as we settled into a pose. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I couldn’t help but feel giddy at the closeness. As the camera clicked, I savored the moment, knowing I’d want to remember this day forever.
“Okay, now that we’ve documented this historic moment, how about a game?” I suggested, feeling a bit tipsy already. “Let’s play Two Truths and a Lie!”
“Alright, I’m in! You go first,” he urged, grinning.
“Okay, um… I once met a celebrity, not any of you by the way, I can cook a five-course meal, and I have a pet turtle named Frank.” I announced, trying to sound serious.
Namjoon raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to figure it out. “I’m going to guess… the pet turtle is the lie?”
“Nope! Frank is very real!” I replied with a laugh. “It’s your turn now!”
“Okay, here goes,” he said, thinking for a moment. “I like to go to museums, I’m not scared of zombies, and I also have a crush on someone.”
I squinted at him, considering his words. “I think the lie is… you’re not scared of zombies!”
Namjoon laughed.”You guessed right, I made it easy for you huh.’’ 
“But wait,” I said, narrowing my eyes playfully. “What do you mean you have a crush on someone? Who is she? Now, I’m curious, should we put on a show for her too, or is this still about that awful ex?”
Namjoon’s gaze became intense as he looked at me. “Nah, you know her very well. No need for anything,” he replied, his tone teasing but serious.
I felt a flutter in my chest, my mind racing as I wondered if he was talking about me. But I shook it off, not wanting to jump to conclusions. “Oh, really? I know her well?! I don't think we have too many girlfriends in common, Joon. Give me a clue.”
Namjoon just stared at me, his expression unreadable. “For someone who's very intelligent, Y/N, you sometimes surprise me.” After a brief pause, he continued, “The day she notices and looks my way, I’ll tell you then.”
I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. All this new information from the game had him saying such things. Maybe he was just tipsy. I didn’t want to push further, so I suggested something else to do. “Let’s just watch a movie for the rest of the hour!”
Namjoon chuckled and nodded. “Alright, what do you want to watch?”
“How about She’s the Man? It’s a classic!” I suggested, eager to skip the topic.
“Sounds good to me,” he replied, though I could feel his eyes still lingering on me as I settled in next to him on the couch. 
I tried to shake off the feeling of his intense gaze and focused on the movie while we cleaned up the snacks around us, laughing and joking about our favorite scenes. 
As the movie played, Namjoon grabbed his phone and recorded a quick video of me as I reenacted some of the funniest moments. He even jumped up to join in on the fun, pretending to act out a scene while I filmed him, both of us cracking up at how ridiculous we looked. But as the night wore on, we eventually grew tired and fell into a comfortable silence, the movie’s dialogue blending into the background.
I began to drift off, the combination of the delicious food, drinks, and the warmth of his presence lulling me into sleep. I could feel my eyelids growing heavy, and just before I fully surrendered to the peacefulness, I caught a glimpse of Namjoon’s soft smile as he watched me, his attention shifting from the screen to me.
Later on, when I finally woke up, I realized it was already the next day. Blinking a few times to gather my thoughts, I felt a warmth radiating from the body next to me. It took a moment for my sleep-fogged brain to register that I was tangled in a cuddling position with Namjoon. His arms were wrapped around me protectively, and a sense of comfort washed over me as I took in the cozy scene.
The soft light filtering through the curtains illuminated his peaceful face, and I couldn’t help but smile at how serene he looked in his sleep. His hair fell across his forehead, and his chest rose and fell gently with each breath. I shifted slightly, trying not to disturb him, but the movement only caused him to tighten his grip around me, pulling me closer.
Feeling a mix of warmth and butterflies in my stomach, I wondered how we had ended up like this. The memories of last night flooded back our laughter, the silly games, and the intense moment we shared when he mentioned having a crush. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the wave of emotions that rose within me.
Glancing at the clock displayed on the TV, I realized it was still early. I didn't want to break the peaceful moment, so I settled back against him, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Just then, I heard him stir beside me. His eyes fluttered open, and when he met my gaze, a sleepy smile spread across his face. 
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep. 
“Good morning,” I replied softly, my heart racing a little at how cute he looked. “Did we really fall asleep on the couch?” 
“Looks like it,” he chuckled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I guess we had more fun than I thought.” 
“Yeah, it was a great night,” I said, feeling a flutter in my chest. “I can’t believe I fell asleep like this. It was only supposed to be 3 hours!.” 
Namjoon shifted slightly, brushing his fingers against my arm. “I’m not complaining. I could get used to this.” 
I felt heat rush to my cheeks at his words. “Me too,” I admitted in a whisper, unable to hide the smile on my face. 
***
Days passed, and Namjoon and I had been talking every day, exchanging random thoughts and snippets of our lives. It felt so natural, as if we had known each other forever instead of just a couple of weeks. The day after I left his appartament, I decided to send him the photos we took during our date. As I scrolled through them, I noticed that in most of the pictures, he was looking my way, and I couldn't help but blush.
I realized we only had two weeks left in our agreement. I couldn’t believe how quickly time had flown. Just when I was getting comfortable with this new dynamic, we had plans to meet again for Hobi’s party, celebrating the release of his new single” Chicken Noodle Soup.” The entire company was invited including me and my sister, and I felt a mix of excitement and nerves.
The night of the party arrived, and the energy in the venue was electric. I stepped inside and was immediately greeted by the sound of laughter and music. Namjoon was there, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted black shirt and jeans, but I knew we had to keep our distance given the crowd and all the staff milling around. Despite that, it was hard not to steal glances at him. I felt my heart race every time our eyes met, a small smile always tugging at my lips.
As the night went on, I found myself chatting with some of the other BTS members when a random guy approached me. He had an easy smile and an inviting energy that made him hard to resist. 
“Hey there! Would you like to dance?” he asked, extending his hand. 
I hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Namjoon. He was probably talking to J-hope about his thoughts on the song, but I could feel his gaze on me. Still, the music was calling, and I didn’t want to miss out. “Um, sure,” I said, taking the guy’s hand and following him to the dance floor.
The moment we started dancing, I could feel Namjoon’s eyes on us, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. The guy was friendly enough, spinning me around and laughing as we moved to the beat. I tried to enjoy myself, but every time I caught a glimpse of Namjoon watching from a distance, my heart raced. 
As I swayed to the music, I felt a rush of warmth at the thought of Namjoon. “You know, you’re a great dancer!” the guy said, flashing me a charming smile.
“Thanks! You’re not too bad yourself!” I replied, trying to keep the conversation light. But my mind kept wandering back to Namjoon, who looked tense, his jaw slightly clenched. 
Just as I was beginning to get comfortable with the rhythm, I noticed Namjoon striding over. “Hey, mind if I cut in?” he said, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.
“Uh, we are in the middle of the dance…but sure.” the guy replied, stepping back, clearly scared by Namjoon's interruption.
Joon wasted no time taking my hand and pulling me into his arms. The moment he wrapped his hands around my waist, I felt a spark. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, leaning down so only I could hear. “I couldn’t let him have all the fun.”
“Namjoon, we’re in public…that's why I agreed to dance with that guy.I don't want the guest to spread rumors about any of this.” I said, glancing around at the crowd and in between us. 
He shrugged, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Let them see. Besides, if you want Jimin to get jealous, you need to look at me more.”
“Wait, what?” I said, caught off guard.
“Just trust me,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Look at me while we dance.”
I nodded, biting my lip to suppress a smile. As we danced, I found it hard to concentrate on anything else but him. The way he held me felt different, intense and possessive. I could see Jimin nearby, talking to a couple of guests. He caught my eye for a brief moment and then turned to look at Namjoon, his expression unreadable.
Once the song ended, I stepped away from Namjoon, my heart racing. “Thanks for the dance,” I said, my cheeks slightly flushed. 
“Anytime,” he replied, flashing that charming smile of his. Just then, Jimin approached, a casual grin on his face. “Hey, Y/N! Want to dance?” he asked, his tone friendly.
“Sure!” I said, feeling a little guilty about leaving Namjoon.
As I moved towards Jimin, I glanced back at Namjoon. He stood there, watching us with a mix of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place. I tried to shake off the feeling of tension as I began to dance with Jimin, who had a different energy than Namjoon. He was playful and energetic, making me laugh as we moved to the music.
“Having fun?” Jimin asked, spinning me around. “I saw you dancing with Namjoon earlier. You two looked good together,” he commented casually.
“Yeah, thanks! Just enjoying the night!” I replied, laughing. This was a first, maybe me and Namjoon dancing together perhaps made him a tiny bit jealous.
“So, just curious, for how long have you liked Joon-hyung?”
“Hah, what's with all these questions Jimin, since when does that matter. ” I insisted, though I felt a bit flustered under his gaze. What does he want to get out of this conversation? ‘’I mean you guys have been together for barely 2 months right, so your feelings aren't that strong yet I am assuming? “I don’t think liking someone works like that,” I shot back, a little defensive. “Oh really? How does it work then?” Jimin pressed, clearly intrigued.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to articulate how I felt. “Well, I guess it’s more about the connection you build over time. It’s not just about the length of time you’ve known someone, but how you feel when you’re around them.” “And how do you feel around me Y/N?”Jimin asked, his voice low, catching me off guard. I paused, the question hanging in the air between us. My heart raced as I considered my response. “Um, I…” I faltered, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion about my feelings for Jimin. It was hard to articulate just how much my emotions had begun to shift. 
Jimin seemed to sense my hesitation, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. “You know, you really light up the dance floor. If you ever need a partner, I’m your guy.”
I smiled, feeling flattered yet torn. “Thanks, Jimin! You’re a great dancer too.” But I couldn't shake the sense of uneasiness stirring in my chest. How did I really feel about both of them? Just then, I glanced over at the sight of Namjoon leaning against the wall, his whiskey in hand, watching us intently. To my rescue, J-hope made his way through the crowd, grinning widely. “Hey, you two! Come on, we’re taking a group photo!” he called out, gesturing for me and Jimin to join the others.
Namjoon and I exchanged glances as we moved closer together, although I could still feel the lingering warmth of his presence beside me as we joined the group. The camera flashed, capturing the moment, and I felt a spark of happiness knowing I was part of this special night, even amidst the confusion of my feelings.
After the photo op, I looked around the venue, trying to soak in the atmosphere. The music was pumping, laughter filled the air, and I felt a surge of joy being surrounded by friends.
“Want to grab some snacks?” I suggested turning to Namjoon.
“Sure! Let’s go before they run out,” he said, flashing me a smile.
As we made our way to the food table, we chatted and joked about the party. “I can’t believe how much fun this is. Hobi really knows how to throw a bash,” I said, eyeing the delicious spread laid out.
“Definitely. And the food is amazing,” he agreed, grabbing a plate.
Just then, I spotted my sister across the room, chatting animatedly with Jungkook. I waved at her, and she returned the gesture with a huge grin. “Look, there’s my sister! She’s having a blast!” I pointed out to Namjoon.
“Your sister seems to be enjoying herself,” he said, glancing over. “And Jungkook looks like he’s making her laugh. They get along really well, huh?”
I nodded, watching them for a moment. “Yeah, they’ve always had a special connection. It���s nice to see her having fun.”
Namjoon chuckled, setting his plate down to grab a couple of snacks. “I can’t blame Jungkook. Your sister is awesome. But let’s focus on our snacks before they disappear!” I couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort being there with him, the worries of the outside world momentarily fading away. As we finished eating, Namjoon turned to me, a curious glint in his eyes. “Hey, what were you and Jimin talking about while you were dancing?” he asked, leaning in slightly as if he wanted to hear my answer more closely.
I felt a slight flutter of unease at the question, the earlier conversation with Jimin flashing through my mind. I tried to keep my tone casual. “Oh, nothing important, really. Just typical dance floor talk,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand.
“Are you sure? It looked like you two were having a pretty deep conversation,” Namjoon replied, raising an eyebrow. There was an intensity in his gaze that made me feel like he was trying to read between the lines. I swallowed hard, feeling a pang of guilt for not being entirely truthful. How could I tell him about what happened, when I didn't have an answer yet. “Dont worry about it.”’ ***
Since the party, Namjoon and I have been texting here and there, casual conversations that left me wondering if he’d been busy or just distant. But beneath each message, I could sense a tension, something unspoken simmering between us. That dance with Jimin at the party had left me wondering if I still had feelings for him, or were they fading? And why did talking to Namjoon feel so natural, like we’d been doing this for years?
Either way, this was supposed to be the last week of our fake relationship. We’d both agreed on that. I wanted to bring it up, to ask him what he thought about it all, but every time I tried, the words just wouldn’t come.
Friday arrived, and my sister reminded me of the "couple's date" she’d set up, me with Namjoon and her with Jungkook. I groaned, grabbing my phone to check with Namjoon. Part of me hoped he’d back out, but when I texted, he just replied, "I’ll be there."
That evening, we all met up at a lively bowling center. The place was buzzing with laughter, the crash of pins, and cheers from other lanes. This was a favorite spot for Jungkook and my sister; they always loved a bit of competition, so naturally, they thought it’d be the perfect place for all of us to meet up. I spotted them near a lane, already laughing and waving us over.
Namjoon was sitting close by, fiddling with the scoring screen and taking a sip of a drink he’d already ordered. He looked up as we approached, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. His calm confidence eased some of my jitters.
“Hey,” he said, reaching for my hand as I sat down beside him. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a tiny spark running up my arm.
“Hey,” I replied, glancing up at him, trying to gauge his mood. Did he sense that I was nervous?
We barely had a moment to settle in before my sister leaned in with a playful smirk. “So, Namjoon,” she teased, “are you keeping my sister out of trouble?”
Namjoon chuckled, squeezing my hand gently under the table. “Actually, she’s the one keeping me out of trouble.”
My sister laughed, and Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “You two seem like you’ve got this whole couple thing down.”
A lump formed in my throat. Did we? I cast a quick glance at Namjoon, who seemed unfazed, as always. His calm expression gave nothing away, and it almost made me want to ask, was he as unsure about everything as I was?
When the server came to check on our orders, I realized I hadn’t even glanced at the menu. I’d been too wrapped up in how to bring up the impending end of our “relationship.” Just then, Namjoon leaned over, his voice gentle.
“I ordered you a light beer, since you looked a little distracted,” he said, eyebrows slightly raised in question.
I blinked, snapping back to reality. “Oh! Yeah, that’s perfect. Thanks.”
As the night went on, it was easy to fall into the rhythm of the group, though I couldn’t shake the sense that something was missing. Jungkook and my sister were on a roll, winning nearly every round with their practiced ease, while Namjoon and I fumbled our way through a few frames, laughing despite our weak scores.
Jungkook grinned, picking up his ball with a flourish. “Looks like Namjoon’s been busy writing again, huh? You’ve got that faraway look, hyung.”
Namjoon smiled, shrugging slightly. “It’s been a busy month. A lot of new music, ideas I’m trying to figure out.” He shot me a quick look. “You know how it is.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely been putting in the work,” I added, although I wasn’t entirely sure. He’d been so occupied, and sometimes I felt like just another task on his to-do list. 
“Y/N?” My sister’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Oh, sorry!” I said, snapping back to the game. I could feel Namjoon’s eyes on me, but I avoided his gaze, feeling caught.
“We need to focus here,” he whispered, his tone soft but playful. “No more zoning out, partner.”
I laughed, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped. Maybe it was just the thrill of the night, or maybe it was the weight of something unspoken hanging between us. For a fleeting moment, I thought Namjoon was looking at me with the same question in his eyes, the same confusion and quiet hope I felt, but before I could be sure, he looked away.
After a few more rounds of bowling, we decided to explore the arcade on the upper level of the center. The lights from the machines cast a warm, colorful glow, and the air was filled with cheerful noises, beeping games, laughter, and the click of tokens sliding into slots. Namjoon and I stayed close, trying out a few games and exchanging easy laughs, while my sister and Jungkook were busy competing at air hockey.
“Look at this!” my sister called suddenly, bouncing up and down as she spotted an old-school photo booth tucked in the corner. She grabbed Jungkook’s hand and waved us over with a huge grin. “We have to get in there and take some pictures. It’ll be like a memory of tonight!”
The four of us managed to squeeze into the tiny booth, laughing as we scrambled to fit into the narrow frame. My sister gave enthusiastic instructions, calling out poses as the camera clicked.
“Alright, first shot: everyone smile!”
The camera flashed, capturing the four of us grinning, cheeks squished together.
“Now, do a funny face!” she said, pulling a ridiculous expression that made us all crack up just in time for the next shot.
“For the last one… let’s make it a couples’ kiss!” she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. She turned to Jungkook, already leaning in for their shot. I felt my heart pound in my chest as I turned to Namjoon, feeling my face flush as I took in his expression.
Namjoon’s eyes met mine, and for a second, I saw the same hesitation, the same unspoken question that had been following us all night. We’d never kissed, not even for show, and now we were in this tiny photo booth with a camera about to flash, only inches separating us. I could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he leaned forward ever so slightly, his face close enough that I closed my eyes, waiting for the moment to come…
But it didn’t.
I opened my eyes just as he pulled back, offering me a polite, almost forced smile. My stomach dropped, and a wave of embarrassment washed over me, making my cheeks burn. Trying to brush it off, I quickly turned to the camera after the last flash, the awkwardness settling heavily between us like a wall.
When the photo strip began to print, I couldn’t ignore the nagging questions twisting inside me. I stepped out of the booth with the others, walking a bit farther so they wouldn’t overhear, and Namjoon followed, sensing I wanted to talk. I glanced at him, feeling vulnerable but needing to know. “Namjoon… why did you stop?”
For a second, his usual composure slipped, and I caught a glimmer of something almost sad in his eyes. Then he shrugged, looking away. “There’s no point, Y/N. We’ve only got a couple of days left of this… arrangement, right?” He gave me a small, almost bitter smile. “Besides, Jimin’s probably already feeling jealous enough. I saw you two at the party, you were laughing with him, looking happy. I figured… there’s no need to make this more complicated.”
His words felt like a punch to the chest. I realized then just how much I’d been hoping for that kiss to mean something, for it to be a turning point between us. But the way he dismissed it so casually left my heart aching in ways I hadn’t prepared for. I swallowed hard, forcing down the tears threatening to rise.
“You don’t even know what we talked about,” I said, my voice barely steady. Jimin had asked me at the party how long I’d liked Namjoon, and maybe I had smiled without realizing it. I hadn’t told Namjoon about it that night because I hadn’t known how I felt then. But now… now, I was sure. I wanted him more than anyone, yet he’d just walked away from the chance to kiss me, even after I’d closed my eyes and leaned in. If he couldn’t even kiss me now, he clearly didn’t feel the same way.
Namjoon’s face was hard to read as he replied, his voice quieter. “You’re right, I don’t know. But I asked you then, and you didn’t tell me. I get it, Y/N… this is fake, and I’m not your boyfriend. You don’t owe me anything, so I didn’t push it. But don’t act like you wouldn’t rather have Jimin here right now instead of me.”
I felt my anger and frustration rise to the surface, all the confusion of the past few weeks pushing me over the edge. “How do you know what I want?” I snapped. “You think you know me so well after just two months of us ‘being together’? You’re right, Namjoon, I don’t have to tell you anything. And since this ‘deal’ between us”, I gestured between us, my voice sharp, “ends in two days, maybe we should just end it now. Right here. I might as well go to Jimin after this.”
He stared back at me, hurt flashing across his face before he composed himself. “Fine. I thought that was the point of this whole thing anyway. Good luck.” he said flatly, his eyes holding mine with a hardened look. Neither of us spoke, tension building in the silence, the distance between us now feeling like miles.
Just then, my sister and Jungkook walked over, holding the strip of photos. My sister was laughing at first, but when she looked closely, her expression changed as she noticed the last photo.
“Wait… you two didn’t kiss?” She looked between us, her face full of confusion. “Come on, you guys!”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension. “What’s going on?”
Something inside me snapped. All the frustration, disappointment, and anger bubbled to the surface. I turned to my sister, unable to hold back. “Because it’s all fake,” I said, my voice louder than I intended, the words coming out like a final admission. “None of this is real.”
The room fell silent. My sister’s smile faded, her face filled with surprise and hurt. Namjoon’s face went blank, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the shock radiating off him.
“Y/N, wait—” Namjoon reached for my arm, but I jerked away, feeling the sting of tears as they blurred my vision. Without another word, I turned and left the arcade, letting the lights and sounds blur around me as I hurried down the stairs, desperate to put distance between us. ***
When I got home, I shut my bedroom door and sank onto my bed, letting out a long breath. I tried to hold it together, but the weight of the night finally broke through, and a few tears slipped out before I could stop them. I felt so mixed up, like I’d been thrown into a storm without a compass. Namjoon’s words kept replaying in my mind—how he’d brushed off the kiss, how he seemed to assume I’d rather be with Jimin. It stung more than I wanted to admit.
After a while, I wiped my face, deciding I was done feeling sorry for myself. This was supposed to be a temporary, harmless plan, so there was no point in getting tangled up in something that wasn’t meant to be. I distracted myself for a bit, scrolling through my phone, but my thoughts kept circling back to him.
Then, I heard the front door open. Moments later, there was a soft knock, and my sister stepped into the room. She took one look at me, her expression a mix of concern and understanding, and came over to sit beside me on the bed.
“Hey,” she started gently. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
I hesitated, but she didn’t push, just sat there patiently until I was ready to say something.
Finally, she sighed and continued, “Look… Namjoon stayed a bit after you left. He… Well, he explained everything to us.”
I felt my heart skip a beat. “What did he say?”
She gave me a careful look. “He told us the whole thing, that you two only started dating to make Jimin jealous, and… to get back at his ex.”
I cringed, suddenly feeling a flood of embarrassment. “He told you that?”
She nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. I think he was just trying to be honest. He looked really upset when he was explaining, though. Like… I don’t know, like he didn’t really want to be saying it out loud.”
I blinked, my mind racing. Part of me felt a strange sense of relief that she knew, but it didn’t erase the guilt or the way my heart still ached at the memory of his words in the photo booth.
My sister hesitated, then asked gently, “Y/N… who do you really like? Is it Jimin, or… Namjoon?”
I swallowed, feeling a weight settle in my chest. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I thought I still liked Jimin, but… being with Namjoon felt so natural, so easy. And tonight, it felt like maybe… maybe I’d been lying to myself about my feelings.”
She reached over and squeezed my hand. “That’s okay, you know. You’re allowed to feel confused. But it’s important that you’re honest with yourself. Just think it through, and don’t do anything just because you’re afraid of what it might mean.”
I nodded, feeling the tension ease a little. She stayed with me, her silent support enough to make the chaos in my heart feel a little less heavy. Maybe I didn’t have the answers yet, but I knew that tonight had shifted something inside me. And maybe that was the first step to figuring it all out.
***
By Saturday evening, I’d almost convinced myself that tonight would be normal, just a simple get-together with friends, no awkwardness or confusing feelings. Taehyung was hosting a small party at his place, just a casual night for all of us to catch up. I hesitated at first, but after all that had happened, I figured it would be good to see the others. Besides, Namjoon had already mentioned in the group chat that he couldn’t make it because something had come up, so it wasn’t like I’d have to worry about seeing him. 
So that evening, my sister and I got ready and headed over together. The minute we walked in, the familiar sounds of laughter and the low hum of music filled the air, instantly easing some of the tension I’d been holding. I spotted Taehyung across the room, chatting with Yoongi and Jin, who were already nursing drinks. J-hope was over by the music setup, picking out the next track, and Jungkook waved at us as we walked in.
“Hey, you two! Glad you could make it,” Taehyung greeted us with a grin, pulling us both into a quick hug. He handed us each a drink, smiling mischievously. “Don’t worry, we’re just getting started.”
I laughed, feeling a bit lighter. We settled in, and soon I was chatting with everyone, catching up, swapping stories, and just enjoying the easygoing atmosphere. I’d forgotten how nice it was to just be around friends without the weight of the past week lingering over everything.
At one point, I glanced across the room and noticed Jimin looking at me. He didn’t say anything, just watched me with a quiet intensity that sent a little jolt through me. I quickly looked away, pretending not to notice, but I could feel his gaze lingering, even when I wasn’t looking his way.
A little while later, Taehyung clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Alright, everyone! Time for a little game to keep things interesting.” He grabbed an empty bottle and placed it on the table. “Let’s do a classic: Never Have I Ever. But first, drinks all around!”
Everyone cheered, and we each grabbed a drink. Before starting the game, Taehyung took out his phone and snapped a quick photo of everyone holding up their drinks, laughing and cheering. “Alright, group photo for the memories,” he said, quickly sending it to the group chat.
I checked my phone and saw the notification pop up in the chat. I couldn’t help but smile at the picture, everyone looking so carefree and happy. Just then, I noticed that Namjoon had seen the message. A small pang hit me, but I shook it off and put my phone away, trying to focus on the game.
Taehyung spun the bottle, and as it pointed at each person, they took turns saying things they’d never done, and the others either drank or laughed as they tried to remember their own stories. The energy was light, with people teasing each other over the stories they shared, and even Yoongi was getting into it, smiling more than usual.
At one point, Jimin leaned over and grinned at me as I took a sip for something silly someone had said. “You’re a bit of a mystery, aren’t you?” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.
I rolled my eyes, trying to brush it off. “Or maybe I just have a lot of secrets,” I shot back with a smirk, making him laugh.
The night went on, and I couldn’t deny that there was a certain freedom in being here without Namjoon, like I could just be myself without all the confusing feelings getting in the way. But every now and then, I’d catch Jimin’s eyes on me, the way he seemed to be watching me a little too closely, like he was waiting for something.
About 30 minutes into the game, just as the conversation was getting more lively and the drinks were flowing, the front door swung open. I didn’t even notice at first, lost in conversation with Jungkook about some random funny video he had seen. But then, I heard a familiar voice from across the room.
“Did I miss anything?”
I turned, and there, standing in the doorway, was Namjoon. He was casually dressed, a slight smile on his face, but his presence hit me like a wave. My heart skipped, and suddenly, the air felt a little heavier. He was here, and I hadn’t expected it at all.
He must’ve noticed the change in atmosphere because everyone’s attention shifted to him. Taehyung grinned, raising his drink. “Look who decided to show up! The party’s just getting started, hyung.”
Namjoon gave a half-shrug, his gaze scanning the room before landing on me for a brief second. He didn’t stay on me long, though, quickly moving toward the group and grabbing a drink from the counter. I tried to keep my composure, but the tension in my chest was impossible to ignore. He’d shown up, and everything I thought I’d managed to put behind me came rushing back.
Jimin, on the other hand, didn’t look away from me. His gaze was sharper now, and I could feel the weight of it, like he was waiting for me to react. I looked down at my drink, trying to focus on anything but the way Jimin’s stare was beginning to make me uncomfortable.
Namjoon joined the circle, exchanging pleasantries with the guys. He settled in, his usual calm demeanor in place, but there was something more guarded about him tonight. I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the tension too, or if I was just imagining it.
After a few moments, Taehyung clapped his hands again, getting everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s keep the fun going. Who’s up for a round of shots before we start the new round?”
Namjoon smiled, but I could tell it was a little forced. “Sure,” he said, reaching for the bottle that was passed around. I noticed that when he got to me, his hand paused for just a second, like he was trying to decide something, but then he took the shot with a steady hand.
Jimin, who had been quiet for the last few minutes, finally spoke up, his voice light but pointed. “You sure you’re up for this, Namjoon? You looked like you were busy earlier.”
Namjoon glanced at him, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something came up. But I’m here now. So, no more excuses.”
I could feel Jimin’s eyes on me again, sharp and almost searching, but I kept my gaze ahead, not wanting to react. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much, but there was something about the way he was looking at me, almost like he knew something I didn’t.
The game continued, but now there was a new layer of tension. I could feel Namjoon’s presence weighing down on me, even as he chatted with the others. I tried not to look at him, but I couldn’t help it. Every time I glanced in his direction, he was either talking to someone else or looking at his phone, but there was a part of me that kept waiting for something to happen. What was I waiting for? I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were far from resolved. 
And as much as I told myself I should enjoy the night with everyone else, a part of me still wanted to know what Namjoon was thinking, why he’d suddenly shown up, and what it meant for the weird, fake relationship we were trying to make sense of.
The mood in the room was light, with alcohol flowing and teasing picking up. Taehyung, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a devilish grin, clearly enjoying the attention as everyone turned toward him.
"Alright, alright, let’s make this interesting," he said, his eyes scanning the group. "Never have I ever liked a girl in this group." He looked directly at Jungkook, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to drink. "Come on, Jungkook, no skipping this one. You know the rules."
Jungkook immediately rolled his eyes. "Gladly," he muttered, grabbing his drink without hesitation. He downed a shot, then looked at my sister, sending her a flying kiss before turning back to Taehyung. His face tried to stay serious, but he couldn’t hold back the grin tugging at his lips. "Happy now?" he said, clearly playing it off for laughs, but the whole room could tell it was more for fun than anything deeper.
Namjoon was next. He took a sip from his glass, his gaze never leaving mine. I couldn’t help but notice the intensity in his eyes as he drank. I tried to remind myself that he was just continuing the act, that this was still a fake relationship, that we were pretending for everyone else since we hadn’t told them yet the truth about ending it. It was all a game. But something about the way he held my gaze made it harder to believe it was all pretending.
Then, just as I was processing it all, Jimin, of all people, raised his glass. His move was so sudden that it left the whole group stunned into silence. Without a word, he took a shot, his eyes locked on me the entire time, a quiet challenge lingering in his expression.
The room went silent. The tension was palpable. No one knew how to react. Taehyung blinked first, breaking the silence with a loud, surprised laugh.
"Well, I guess we’re all in now," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Looks like we’ve got some secrets floating around in this group."
But I didn’t find it funny. My heart pounded in my chest, the situation suddenly feeling a lot more real than it had a few minutes ago. Jimin’s move was unexpected—why had he done that? And Namjoon... his constant attention, the way he drank right after Jungkook , it felt too intentional. Had I been reading too much into everything? I couldn’t focus on anything else, the weight of the moment hanging heavily between the three of us.
The game continued, but all I could do was watch, trying to ignore the strange mix of emotions that churned inside me. Something had shifted, and I couldn’t figure out what it was. 
I excused myself from the game, the weight of everything pressing on me like a physical force. I needed space to breathe, to clear my head, and figure out what was going on in my own heart. My thoughts were spiraling, tangled in Jimin’s unexpected actions and Namjoon’s steady gaze. What did any of this mean? I couldn’t make sense of it, and it was eating away at me.
I made my way toward the guest room, my steps slow and heavy, as if I could outrun the thoughts crashing through my mind. Was Jimin really into me this whole time? Did the plan to make him jealous actually work? What was going on between Namjoon and me? And why did everything feel so... real tonight?
I stepped into the bathroom of a guest room and stood in front of the mirror. The reflection staring back at me didn’t seem like mine anymore, too confused, too lost. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to get away, to clear my mind.
Before I could walk back into the party, I heard the door to the guest room open in front of me. I froze. It was Jimin. I didn’t expect him to follow me, and my heart jumped into my throat.
He stepped in slowly, looking like he was carefully choosing his words. I turned toward him, but I didn’t know what to say. The silence hung heavy between us. 
"Y/N," Jimin said, his voice calm, but there was an edge of vulnerability there. "Can we talk?"
I didn’t trust my voice, so I simply nodded, still unsure of what was happening. His presence filled the small room, and my nerves were on fire. 
He sighed and took a step closer, clearly thinking about what to say next. "I didn’t expect Namjoon to show up tonight," Jimin began, his voice low and almost distant. "The guys had told me they saw him talking to his ex before he left the studio. I figured he wasn’t going to come, so when he showed up... I was surprised."
I tried to keep my face neutral, but the mention of his ex hit me harder than I expected. The thought of Namjoon with someone else, especially with that ex, was like a punch to the gut. But I stayed quiet, letting Jimin continue.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration creeping into his tone. "But then Jungkook told me something yesterday. About you and Namjoon... about the whole 'fake relationship' thing." He paused, his eyes locking onto mine. "He told me that you two were pretending to make me jealous. That it was all an act."
My heart skipped a beat. Of course, Jungkook would have been the one to spill it. Now, hearing Jimin say it out loud felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over me.
Jimin shifted, his face growing more serious. "At first, I didn’t know what to think when I heard that from him. But then, it hit me." He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "I realized that I’ve been an idiot. I’ve been sitting here, watching you, pretending like I didn’t care, when the truth is, I care more than I’ve ever let on."
He took a breath, and my heart fluttered nervously in my chest. I didn’t know what he was about to say, but it felt like everything had come to this point. 
"I’ve liked you for so long, Y/N," Jimin confessed, his voice a little softer now, vulnerable. "But I’ve always been afraid to say anything. Afraid that it would ruin our friendship, that it would change everything between us." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I kept telling myself I wasn’t ready, that it was better left unsaid." 
His expression softened, his eyes searching mine. "But watching you with Namjoon tonight and these past couple of months, pretending to be with him, it made me realize how much of a fool I’ve been. I should’ve stepped up sooner, I should’ve told you how I felt." He shook his head, frustration and regret in his voice. "I’ve been too scared, too wrapped up in my own insecurities to take a chance. But I’m done with that, Y/N."
He took another step forward, the space between us closing. "I care about you," he said, his voice steady now, full of sincerity. "I’ve always cared about you. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t. I like you, Y/N. I really like you. And I’m sorry it took me so long to say it."
I stood there, frozen, my chest tightening as his words echoed in my ears. Jimin, the guy I had had a crush on for a long time, had just confessed to me. The weight of his confession settled over me, both a relief and a shock. But there was also confusion, so much confusion. Had I been blind to all of this? Why had he never said anything before? And if I was being honest with myself, did I like him back anymore?
Before I could process everything, Jimin stepped closer, his eyes filled with hope and uncertainty. "So, what do you think?" he asked softly. "I know it’s a lot to take in, but I couldn’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way about you anymore."
I felt my heart racing in my chest, torn between Jimin’s confession and the unresolved feelings I had for Namjoon. I didn’t know how to respond, but I knew one thing for sure: everything had just changed.
I took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage I had left. This wasn’t easy, and I knew it was going to hurt, but I had to be honest with Jimin. I couldn’t keep pretending like everything was okay, like my heart wasn’t pulling in two different directions.
"Jimin," I started, my voice quieter than I intended, but firm. "I need to be honest with you. Yes, it was about you, making you jealous, at first. It was part of the plan, to make you see... make you notice me." I paused, watching his face as he took in my words. His expression shifted, and for a second, I could see the pain in his eyes, but I pushed forward.
"But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about that." I shook my head, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Somewhere along the way, I... I started to fall for Namjoon."
Jimin blinked, his lips parting slightly as if trying to make sense of what I’d just said. His gaze was intense, like he was searching for something in me, an explanation, an apology, I wasn’t sure.
"I don’t blame you for not realizing sooner," I continued, my heart heavy with the truth I was finally saying out loud. "I should’ve said something. I should’ve told you how I felt, instead of waiting around for you to make a move. I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for so long... and I was too scared to admit that I was falling for someone else." I wiped at my eyes, trying to hold it together, but it wasn’t easy.
Jimin’s face softened, his usual mischievous smile gone, replaced with something more vulnerable. "Y/N... I didn’t know," he murmured, his voice low. "I didn’t know you were waiting for me like that. I thought... I thought I had all the time in the world."
I nodded, feeling the weight of my own regrets. "We both did," I whispered. "But maybe it was meant to be this way. Maybe we weren’t supposed to figure this out sooner. Maybe everything that’s happened, all the confusion, the pretending... it was just leading me to this point."
I took a deep breath, feeling like I was freeing myself from something heavy I’d been carrying for far too long. "I like Namjoon now, Jimin. And I don’t know what’s going on with him, with his ex, or whatever. Maybe he’s with her again, maybe not. But I can’t keep holding onto what could’ve been with you, because I’ve realized it’s not just about you anymore."
The silence stretched between us as Jimin absorbed my words. I could see him trying to process everything, his eyes searching my face for any hint of uncertainty. But there was none. 
"I’m sorry," I added softly, my voice trembling slightly. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I can’t keep pretending, either. I’ve made my choice." 
Jimin finally sighed, his shoulders dropping as if he was releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His eyes met mine, and for the first time, there was no frustration or confusion in them, just a quiet understanding.
"I get it," he said, his voice rough but steady. "I kinda knew I was too late. And maybe... maybe I should have said something sooner too. But I can’t blame you for that. You deserve to be with someone who’s not afraid to take the chance, someone who’s not scared of ruining the friendship. I see that now." He smiled, but it was bittersweet. "And if Namjoon makes you happy, then I’m happy for you. I mean that."
I felt a weight lift off my chest, the tension between us dissolving in that moment. "Thank you," I whispered. "I... I never wanted to hurt you, Jimin. You’re still one of my dearest friends. I just had to be honest with you."
Jimin nodded, his smile softening as he gave me a reassuring look. "I know. And I’ll be okay. I’m not going anywhere, you know? We’ll figure this out, all of us."
The words he said were comforting, but the reality of it all still felt heavy in my chest. I wasn’t sure where things would go from here, but for the first time, I felt like I could breathe again, knowing that I had said what I needed to say, that I had let go of the past.
I took a final, steadying breath and gave him one last, grateful smile. "I’m glad we talked, Jimin. And... I hope things don’t feel too weird between us after this."
"They won’t," he assured me, his eyes soft with understanding. "We’ll be fine. You and me. I just... want you to be happy." As the conversation came to a close, I took a step back, the weight of it all finally beginning to lift from my shoulders. Jimin and I had said everything we needed to say, and I was starting to feel like I could move on, that this awkward, unresolved tension was finally behind us.
Jimin offered a small, bittersweet smile before opening his arms. "Come here," he said softly, and without thinking, I stepped into his embrace. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t meant to be, but in that moment, it felt like the closure we both needed. I could feel his warmth, his steady presence, and it grounded me in a way that reassured me everything would be okay. We’d move past this, even if things weren’t perfect right now.
I closed my eyes, letting the moment stretch out for a few seconds, savoring the comfort of having things settle between us.
But just as I was starting to relax, I heard the door creak open.
I pulled back instantly, my heart racing as I saw Namjoon standing in the doorway, his eyes wide, mouth slightly parted in shock. His gaze flicked between me and Jimin, lingering on us just long enough for the weight of the situation to hit him too.
It felt like time had frozen for a moment.
"Y/N..." Namjoon said, his voice a little strained. "Jimin...?"
I didn’t know what to say. The look in his eyes made my stomach twist. It wasn’t jealousy exactly, but something like confusion, hurt.
Before he could say anything else, I quickly moved toward him, trying to make sense of the situation, the tension hanging thick in the air.
"I... We need to talk," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I looked at him. 
Jimin, sensing the shift headed towards the door. I watched as Jimin left, his footsteps fading as he passed through the hallway, leaving me alone with Namjoon. The silence between us felt like a wall, too heavy to break, but I couldn’t ignore the burning need to face this.
I turned to Namjoon, my throat tight. "We need to talk," I repeated, this time louder, more urgent.
Namjoon nodded, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "Yeah. We do."
"Is this why you didn't tell me what you and Jimin talked about at the party?" Namjoon’s voice was tight, the words coming out sharper than I expected. "Did you get what you wanted, Y/N? Is this why you and him are hugging in a separate room?"
His words hit me like a cold wave, and I felt the sting of them settle deep in my chest. The air between us grew heavy, thick with the weight of his accusation, and I could feel the space between us shrinking in all the wrong ways.
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but nothing came out. His eyes never left mine, and there was something raw, almost broken, in the way he looked at me. It was like he was trying to figure out if he’d been a fool this whole time, if everything we had was just a game to me.
I took a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me. My heart was pounding, but I couldn't just let his words hang in the air like that.
"So, you're gonna judge me for talking to Jimin? After you were spotted with your ex?" I shot back, the words coming out sharper than I meant. "You have no right to say anything about me and Jimin when you’re doing whatever it is you’re doing with her."
The moment I said it, I regretted the bitterness in my tone, but I couldn’t help it. It was like everything inside me was bubbling up all at once, frustration, confusion, and that gnawing ache I’d tried to ignore for so long. Namjoon had been acting like nothing had changed, like he was fine with our arrangement, while I was over here questioning everything. And now he was calling me out like I was the one in the wrong.
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, his gaze faltered. I could see the flicker of guilt, maybe even regret, but it quickly turned into something else, something I couldn’t quite place. Was it anger? Jealousy?
I wasn’t sure, but I knew we were both standing on the edge, and I didn’t know how to pull us back. Namjoon took a deep breath, his gaze briefly flicking away as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he spoke again, his voice was tight, his words sharper than usual. "Yeah, I met with her," he admitted, frustration evident in his voice. "But it's not what you think. She kept showing up at the company, begging for forgiveness, even after you told her to back off. I couldn’t ignore her anymore. I had to put an end to it, for good."
He paused, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and something else, something that felt too raw for me to understand in the moment.
His next words hit harder than I expected. "I saw you hugging him, Y/N. You got what you wanted, didn’t you? This whole game, this act you and me were playing for him. You wanted to make Jimin jealous, and now it finally worked." His voice wavered, and the words came out harsher than he probably intended, like he was trying to convince himself. "And here I am, watching all of it, like a damn fool."
There was a pause, and the room seemed to shrink with the tension between us. Namjoon stepped even closer, his presence almost overwhelming. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check. "You know what? It worked on me, too," he said, his voice low and pained. "I thought I didn’t care, If you still chose him after everything, but I do. More than I should. I’ve been lying to myself, pretending I didn’t feel anything, but seeing you with him, seeing you so... close... it made me realize how much I care.Why I can’t stop thinking about you”.
His voice broke, and I saw the regret and jealousy in his eyes. "I should’ve kissed you that night, Y/N. After we fought, I should’ve stopped you from leaving, should’ve said something. But I didn’t. I let you walk away, and I regret it every single second. I’ve been kicking myself for it ever since."
The room felt like it was holding its breath, the air thick with everything that had been said, and everything that was left unspoken. Namjoon stood so close, his presence overwhelming, yet it felt like there was still a gap between us, one that neither of us knew how to cross.
I finally found my voice, despite the tightness in my chest. "What’s stopping you now?" I asked, my tone quieter but firm.
Namjoon blinked, his eyes still searching mine, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice a little strained.
I stepped forward just a fraction, closing the distance, and then, with a sense of finality, I answered him. "The moment you saw after you came here, it was us giving closure to our feelings. Yes, it worked. I made Jimin jealous, and he confessed to me. But I turned him down, Namjoon. Because I can't stop thinking about you, too." My heart pounded in my chest, but I pushed through the fear, the uncertainty. "So, let me ask you again: What’s stopping you from kissing me now?"
The question hung in the air, thick and heavy. His eyes were locked on mine, searching, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For a brief moment, time seemed to stop as we stood there, inches apart, the silence between us deafening. I could see the storm of emotions in his gaze, hurt, longing, confusion, and, beneath it all, something that told me he wasn’t ready to walk away. Not this time.
And then, without warning, he took a step closer. His breath mingled with mine as he cupped my face with his large, warm hands. The touch was gentle, but there was a certain urgency to it, a need that seemed to pulse in the very air around us.
His thumb brushed against my cheek, a soft, almost reverent gesture, as if he were memorizing the feel of me under his fingertips. His eyes never left mine, but I could see the way his pupils dilated, the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath he took. And then, as if the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between us finally broke, he closed the distance, his lips crashing into mine with a force that took me by surprise.
The kiss was desperate, hungry, as though he’d been holding back for too long. His lips moved against mine with a raw intensity, a release of all the emotions that had been building between us for so long. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss, as if he couldn’t get enough of me, like he was trying to pour every ounce of feeling he had into that single, electrifying moment.
I responded with my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The world around us seemed to fade away, the tension, the confusion, everything that had been holding us apart, until there was only the two of us. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, as if we were both trying to make up for lost time, to reclaim something we had almost thrown away.
And in that moment, everything else ceased to matter. The only thing that existed was the overwhelming, undeniable connection  between us, a connection that no words, no misunderstandings, could ever break. The kiss grew more passionate, and everything around us faded into a blur. Namjoon’s hands were at my back, guiding me backward until the wall pressed against my shoulders. The warmth of his body, the intensity of his kiss, left me breathless and yearning for more. His lips moved with purpose, each touch sending waves of heat through my body. He pulled away for a split second, his forehead resting against mine as he caught his breath.
"Do you have any idea how long I’ve been thinking about this?" His voice was low, almost a growl, sending a shiver down my spine. "How your lips would feel against mine...I have been dreaming about it since that day on the elevator... no, even before that." He said it with such intensity that it made my heart race, and I couldn't help but wonder what he meant, but the questions would have to wait. I didn’t care to ask them now.  All I could focus on was him, the way his lips moved with mine, the way he made me feel.
I arched my back as my head leaned against the wall, and his hands found their way to my waist, lifting me effortlessly off the ground. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as the kiss continued. His lips trailed down to my neck, kissing and biting gently murmuring words  like ‘mine’ above my skin between every kiss, sending a mix of pleasure and electricity through my body. Soft moans escaped my lips, and I could feel the heat between us building. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, unable to get enough of him.
But then, a loud crash echoed from the other room, pulling us both out of our haze. We froze for a moment, catching our breath, our faces inches apart.
Namjoon let out a frustrated sigh, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "We can continue this later," he said with a teasing smirk, still holding me tightly against him. "I will make up for every time I didn't kiss you, I promise."
The playful yet possessive undertone in his voice sent a wave of heat through me, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of his words. But for now, we both took a step back, trying to regain some composure as the sound of the broken bottle in the other room faded into the background. Before we left the room, my fingers nervously tugged at the hem of Namjoon's shirt, a sudden shyness washing over me. The heat from the kiss still lingered on my skin, and the words I needed to say felt heavy on my tongue, almost foreign after everything we’d just shared.
"Namjoon," I started, my voice barely above a whisper as I avoided his gaze for a moment. My heart was racing, my hands slightly trembling as I looked up at him. "I... I want to be with you," I confessed, the words feeling like they had been waiting to escape for so long. "After everything that's happened, I don’t want to be here anymore. I just... I want to be with you. Alone."
He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smile, but there was something tender in his gaze. "You want to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low, as if he were savoring the thought. "Are you sure?"
I nodded, my fingers still clinging to his shirt, my gaze lifting to meet his. "Yeah... I can pretend to be sick. We can just leave together. I don’t want to be around anyone else right now." The idea of being with him, just the two of us, felt like the only thing that made sense in that moment. Everything else, the party, the other people, suddenly felt so far away.
Namjoon’s expression softened, and he placed a hand gently on my cheek, as if grounding me in the moment. "If that’s what you want, we’ll leave Y/N." he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Let’s go."
I smiled, relief flooding through me as I took his hand. We didn’t need any more words. We were finally on the same page. As Namjoon and I walked back into the room, the weight of everything between us still lingering in the air, we were met with curious glances from the group. My sister was the first to notice me, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the flush on my face, the way I clung a little too tightly to Namjoon’s side.
"Y/N?" she asked, her voice soft, but there was a hint of suspicion in her tone. "Are you okay? You look... a little off."
I blinked, quickly thinking of something to say. My mind was still clouded from everything that had just happened, but I needed to get out of there, needed to get away from all the questions and awkward tension.
"I... I feel a bit tipsy," I said, offering a small, apologetic smile. "I think I need to head out first. It’s been a long night."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly still a bit skeptical. But before she could ask more, Namjoon stepped in, his voice smooth and calm.
"I already ordered an Uber for us," he said, his hand gently resting on my lower back, as if to reassure her. "We’ll head to my place. Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine."
Jimin, Jungkook, and my sister exchanged glances, clearly surprised, but they didn’t press further. After a beat, Jungkook nodded, his usual easygoing smile returning.
"Take care, Y/N. Hope you feel better," he said, giving me a quick wave.
"Yeah, feel better," Jimin added.
My sister’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, but then she sighed, shrugging as if she’d decided there was nothing to do about it.
"Alright, take care of yourself," she said, giving Namjoon a quick nod, as if accepting the situation. "Don’t do anything too crazy, okay?"
I smiled weakly, feeling a mix of guilt and relief at her words. It was like she knew, but she didn’t. Either way, she was letting me go, letting me make my own choices.
With that, we exchanged goodbyes, and Namjoon and I walked out, hand in hand, the door shutting softly behind us. 
As we left the party, the world outside felt like a breath of fresh air. The night was cool, the streets relatively quiet. But all I could think about was what had just happened between us. Everything that had been left unsaid before now felt so clear. There was no going back now.
And as the Uber pulled up and we climbed inside, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. The uncertainty was gone. Whatever had been between us, whatever it was that had kept us apart, had finally clicked into place. And now, as the city lights blurred by the window, I knew that whatever came next, I’d be ready for it, with Namjoon by my side.
*** As we stepped into Namjoon’s apartment, a comfortable silence settled between us. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything that had just happened. He closed the door behind us, his hand resting on the doorknob for a moment as he turned to face me.
“So,” he began softly, his eyes meeting mine, “are you… really okay with this? With us?”
I felt a shy smile tug at my lips. “I’ve never been more sure.” My voice was soft, but I meant every word. I was here, and I didn’t want to turn back. “What about you? Are you… okay with all this?”
Namjoon let out a low laugh, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. “I think I’ve been waiting for this, waiting for you, for longer than I ever realised.” There was a warmth in his gaze, something so honest that it made my heart skip a beat.
We moved further into the room, and he gestured for me to sit. “Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?”
I nodded, chuckling nervously. “Tea sounds good. Something calming, maybe?”
He flashed me a knowing smile and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me to take in my surroundings. I’d been here before, once late at night for our date, but I hadn’t paid much attention then, too caught up in the moment with him. Now, with a moment to breathe, I could see pieces of his personality everywhere, books stacked on the shelves and in piles on the floor, his collection of vinyl records carefully arranged next to the coffee table. It all felt so unmistakably him. 
A few moments later, he returned with two steaming mugs, setting one in front of me. As he sat down next to me on the couch, close enough that our knees brushed, he looked at me with a more serious expression.
“Can I ask… when did it change for you?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper. “When did you know you felt something for me?”
I took a slow sip of tea, hoping it would help me organize the mess of emotions inside. “Honestly?” I hesitated, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “I think it was always there, in some way.”
He tilted his head slightly, watching me closely, and I felt my heart skip at his quiet attention.
“I mean, I liked Jimin, yes… but when I first met all of you, you were the one that caught my eye. But I found out pretty quickly that you had a girlfriend back then, so I pushed the thought away and settled on seeing you as just a friend.”
Namjoon’s eyes softened as I spoke, and it gave me a bit of courage to keep going. We both set our mugs down on the table, the warmth of the tea long forgotten as the weight of our words filled the space between us.
“But when we started pretending…” I paused, looking down at my hands. “It felt more real than I expected. I kept telling myself it was just for show, just a game we were playing. But the more time we spent together, the harder it was to pretend it didn’t mean anything.”
I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t say anything because I was afraid. Afraid I’d misread it, or that I’d just end up… hurting you, or myself.”
He reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I wish I realised sooner.”
I felt his thumb tracing soft circles on my hand, the warmth of his touch anchoring me in the moment. His quiet reassurance, the way he looked at me, it was all starting to melt away any lingering doubts I had.
“Well, we’re here now,” he repeated softly, his gaze steady and full of something I could only describe as understanding, and maybe relief.
I managed a small, nervous smile. “Yeah, we are.”
There was a beat of silence, comfortable and calm. Then, taking a breath, he lifted his other hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "And now that we’re here,” he murmured, his voice a little lower, “I think we both deserve to stop second-guessing ourselves."
He paused, his eyes searching mine. “We don’t have to pretend anymore. No more games, no more hidden feelings. Just… us.”
My heart raced at his words, the weight of everything finally lifting. I looked down at our intertwined hands, feeling a warmth bloom in my chest. “No more pretending,” I echoed, feeling the truth of it settle over me. I met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at my lips.
“So… where do we start?” I asked, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves, savouring the closeness.
Namjoon’s smile softened as he shifted closer, his eyes warm with that familiar spark. “How about we start fresh?” he murmured, and then, leaning in, he pressed his lips to mine, a tender, lingering kiss that felt like a quiet promise, a beginning we’d both been waiting for.
He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching mine, before leaning in again, his lips brushing softly over mine, testing, savoring. Slowly, his hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers tracing gentle circles, and I felt him draw me in closer. This time, the kiss deepened naturally, as though all the unspoken feelings between us were finally finding their way through, leaving my heart racing in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. 
It felt as though we were back in that moment in the guest room, but this time, without the weight of uncertainty between us. His hands were gentle yet sure, tracing down my back, leaving warmth in their wake. The kiss grew bolder, a mix of all the moments we’d held back, and I felt my own hands grip the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer. 
We broke apart just briefly, his forehead resting against mine, both of us catching our breath, a small smile tugging at his lips. 
"I was thinking of ordering us something," he murmured, his voice a low whisper that sent a thrill through me. His gaze locked onto mine, dark and filled with intent, and I could feel the tension building between us again. 
"But dinner can wait," he added, his words dripping with warmth, making my heart race. "Right now, all I want is you."
With that, his lips found mine again, a bit hungrier this time, and I let myself melt into it, matching his intensity as the moment wrapped around us, everything else falling away.
As the kiss deepened, my hands slid up to his chest, fingers brushing over the firm muscles that were hidden beneath his shirt. I could feel the strong beat of his heart, and I couldn't help but smile against his lips, knowing the effect I was having on him.
Namjoon’s breath hitched slightly as I gently tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head with a growing sense of urgency. The cool air brushed against his skin, and I let my fingers trace the contours of his muscles, marveling at how solid and defined he was. He shivered slightly under my touch, his body reacting to me in ways that made my heart race.
"Y/N..." he breathed, his voice a low growl of pleasure as I ran my hands down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath my fingertips. "You don't know what you do to me."
A soft moan escaped his lips as my touch moved lower, the heat between us intensifying with each passing second. He pulled me closer, his hands sliding to my back, pulling me flush against him and laying me on the couch. Our bodies pressed together, and I felt his desire, undeniable and powerful, pressing into me.
I broke the kiss just long enough to look up at him, my breathing shallow as I let my hands roam, feeling every inch of him. His eyes were dark, his lips swollen from our kiss, and he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment.
"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving to my waist, slipping beneath my shirt, his touch warm and electric against my skin.
I gasped softly as his fingers skimmed the skin of my back, sending a wave of heat through me. My hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, and we resumed kissing, this time with more urgency. The world outside of the room didn’t exist anymore, there was only Namjoon, and the undeniable pull between us.
We continued, caught in the heat of the moment, kisses growing more passionate, more desperate as we lost ourselves in each other. Time seemed to stand still, and all that mattered was the connection we were building, one that felt right, real, and unlike anything I had ever experienced before.
Namjoon pulled out for a bit to catch a breath and leaned in closer again , his breath warm against my skin as he gazed down at me, his fingers brushing gently along the fabric of my shirt. His voice was low, smooth, and filled with a quiet intensity.
"Can I?" he asked, his eyes flickering between my chest and my eyes, seeking permission with the unspoken question. 
I nodded, my heart racing, feeling the heat of the moment building between us. There was no rush, just the weight of our emotions and the pull between us. Slowly, he slid his hands to the hem of my shirt, his touch reverent, as if he was savouring every inch of the space between us.
As the shirt lifted over my head, I could feel the electricity between us intensifying. Namjoon didn’t break eye contact. He looked me up and down, enjoying the image. “So perfect, just for me...” His gaze was unwavering, filled with something deeper than desire, something more intimate. His lips parted, but before they could meet mine again, he lowered his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my neck, his lips tracing the curve of my skin.
I arched into him, my fingers threading through his hair. The kiss from his lips moved down my throat, then between my breasts, and continued further down to my stomach. He stopped just above my heat, still covered by my pants, sending a surge of warmth through me.
Then, as his lips came back up to mine, my hands reached for his belt, never breaking the kiss. My fingers fumbled with it briefly, but soon it was undone, he helped me push his trousers down. He kicked them off swiftly, and moved to undoing my trousers, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked them off my body. As he traced his fingers along the inner part of my thigh, his lips continued their journey down my skin, sending electric jolts of anticipation through me.
Now, we were both only in our underwear. Namjoon hovered above me, his eyes meeting mine with a silent question, a flicker of hesitation in his gaze as he sought my consent. I nodded, breathlessly. With that, he placed a hand on my back, unclipping my bra slowly, as if savouring the moment. He slid it off with ease, his hands now fully free to roam.
His touch was firm yet tender as he cupped both of my breasts, his fingers gently kneading them while his lips found the spot below my ear, murmuring sweet words against it. His breath was hot against me, the weight of his words sending waves of desire down my spine. I could feel his body pressing into mine, his clothed groin humping me, the heat between us building again. “Joon” I moaned. “I think I need you now.” My body felt hotter by each second that was passing.
“I know, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and intense. “Just let me pleasure you more first. Let me take care of you.”
He continued with his move again, not breaking eye contact as his hand travelled down, hovering just above my heat. Gently, he moved my panties to the side and slid one finger in. He retracted it and put the finger in his mouth.
“So wet…so sweet” Namjoon murmured, licking the slickness from his finger. I gasped from the pleasure as he went back and slid in another finger, both now moving in and out. Then he began using a scissoring motion, working in perfect rhythm. When he added a third finger, my vision blurred.
“Ah… I think I’m close,” I managed to gasp.
“Then come for me, Y/N,” he urged, finding that perfect spot that made me tremble. A high-pitched cry escaped me as I reached my climax, releasing everything that had built up inside. But it was not enough. I needed more of him.
“Namjoon, you either fuck me right now or else—”
“Or else what?” he teased, smiling and hoovering on top of me.
“I—I don’t know. I’ll probably fuck myself again with my own fingers if I can,” I breathed.
“As much as I’d love to see you do that, I think that can wait a little,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
Before I could protest, he scooped me into a bridal position and rose to his feet. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I almost fucked you right here, when you were calling my name. But as much as I want to, I’d like to make you comfortable first,  in my bed,” he said, walking toward his room. A few moments later, I felt the soft cold mattress behind my back as Namjoon placed me down hovering again on top of me. I looked up and slowly averted my gaze down toward his bulge, it looked big and hard, his member almost ripping off his underwear. Both breathing heavily I came forward again and caught his lips against mine. But that didn't last long as Joon put some distance and quickly gave me a peck on the forehead. ‘’Fuck”’ Namjoon hisses under his breath.”’Look at you so perfectly layed on my bed” his eyes continuing to roam my body, and when they reached a particular part my female hood, I decided to tease him further and sliding my panties slowly to the side while under him. His eyes returned to me for a bit and then back to where my hands were occupied. Silence creeped all over the room and only the beating of our heart and breaths could be heard. There I was now all bare under him, soaking wet anchoring for his touch. 
“Fuck... Y/N… You have no idea, do you? The effect you have on me. God only knows how many times these walls have heard your name these past weeks.”
“So... you mean... you did that?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice thick with need. “Even in my dreams, all I could see was you. I’ve craved you every day since we started this whole ‘fake’ thing. And now...” He trailed off, his gaze intense. “I’m going to make you feel good, baby. I—” 
“Fuck, Joon… just fuck me already, please.” I pleaded, unable to stand the teasing, the intense gaze, and all the compliments any longer. Just the sound of his smooth, raspy voice had me close to reaching my second orgasm.
“Someone’s needy… and ruining that pretty little mouth for me,” he murmured.
“If you let me, I think you'd be surprised at what else this mouth can do,” I replied with a smirk.
“Oh?...than I better fuck you now so you can show me all of that later”
Namjoon stretched his arm to my right, above my head, reaching for his nightstand. He opened the top drawer and took a condom out of the box. I didn’t even question it—he’s a grown man, after all, and probably has a lot of experience with this. Still, I felt a little shy. It wasn’t my first time, but thinking about it all made me feel a hint of pressure. I quickly pushed that thought away, I liked Namjoon a lot, and he seemed to like me too. My eyes shifted to his actions as I tried to stay in the moment.
He slipped out of his boxers, and his thick, hard length sprang free, red and glistening with precum.
"Shit, Joon..." I whimpered, looking up into his eyes.
"What?" he asked with a smirk, clearly amused by my reaction.
“You’re huge... How is that going to fit?” Embarrassment crept up my cheeks.
“You’ll get used to it,” he murmured, his voice low and confident.
If my face had been red before, now my whole body felt on fire. But I wasn’t about to let him think this was too easy for me.
“You sound so cocky… What if you end up disappointing?” I teased, laughing softly and covering my mouth.
Namjoon’s grin widened as he rolled the condom on, then slid two fingers into me without warning. I gasped, muffling the sound with my hand, thankful I’d caught it, or the whole neighbourhood might have heard.
"Let’s just say you chose the right member, love... the one that’ll make you scream the loudest.” he murmured.
I couldn’t respond, only nodding as he began to move his fingers, preparing me for what was to come. He met my eyes, waiting for my signal, and when I nodded again, he slowly replaced his fingers with his thick length, easing himself in.
If I hadn’t seen stars by then, I certainly was now. One push, and I was already crying out from the stretch.
“Fuck, so tight, so perfect... Y/N, tell me if it hurts,” he whispered, voice rough.
But I was too lost in pleasure to respond, only nodding and moving with him as he began to thrust, each movement filling the room with our heavy breaths, pants, and the sound of skin meeting skin.
Namjoon lifted one of my legs, hooking it over his shoulder, and suddenly, he was hitting a deeper spot that made me see white.
I wouldn’t be surprised if my legs ended up bruised. Longing for his lips again, I reached up and captured his mouth, losing myself in the kiss.
Tongues and teeth met as we kissed until Namjoon broke away, gasping for air. “You take me so well, Y/N… like your body…” His fingers traced circles over my clit. “This pussy… was made for me.”
I couldn’t respond, just nodding and crying out in pleasure. The way Namjoon made me feel, the way he moved inside me, it was like we were perfectly made for each other. Everything that had come before led to this moment, us becoming one.
Thrust after thrust, kiss after kiss, I lost all sense of time.
Not until Namjoon said against my neck “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” he panted.
“Then let go,” I whispered.
“Y/N, I’m about to—”
“Me too.”
And with that, we came together, bodies pressed close, shuddering in sync as the last waves of pleasure passed over us.
Namjoon pulled out, quickly removed the condom, and tied it off before stepping out of bed. Moments later, he returned, gently wiping me clean with a warm towel. His movements were soft, careful, as if he were savoring each moment. I watched him in silence, feeling a strange mix of bliss and tenderness settle over me. Once he finished, he tossed the towel aside and lay back down beside me, pulling me into his arms.
We stayed like that, wrapped in each other, letting our breathing slow in sync. His fingers traced gentle patterns along my shoulder, and I closed my eyes, melting into the warmth of his embrace. 
"So," I said, breaking the silence with a teasing smile, "I guess the sex wasn’t that bad after all."
Namjoon laughed softly, looking at me with a raised brow. “Oh really? Just not that bad? I thought I was pretty damn good.”
I grinned, poking his chest playfully. “You were good. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Perfect. There’s still a lot I could teach you.”
His expression shifted, and I saw that familiar smirk spread across his face. “Is that so? I’d love to see what you’ve got in mind, Y/N,” he teased, his voice low and filled with mock confidence.“Does it have anything to do with that pretty mouth of yours?” “Careful now, Joon. I won't give you the satisfaction just yet,” I teased back, running a finger down his chest. “Besides, you’ve had a lot of practice pretending, but a real relationship with me is a whole different thing, you know?”
Namjoon’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in, brushing his lips against my ear. “Oh, I’m not pretending anymore, love. And I think we’ve got a real thing going here. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
I laughed, a little breathless from the way his words made me feel. “I think I can handle it. You just better keep up.”
He chuckled, pulling me closer, his lips brushing against mine in a brief but tender kiss. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that. But I’ll be sure to keep you on your toes.”
“Good,” I whispered, my smile playful as I looked up at him. “Because if you can’t keep me entertained, I know someone who can.” He growled softly, pulling me closer, his arms tightening around me. “You’re really trying to make me jealous, huh?”
I smirked, teasing him further. “Maybe I am.”
Namjoon’s expression softened, but there was still that edge of possessiveness in his eyes. “You’re mine now, Y/N. Let’s make sure you don’t forget that.”
And with that, it seemed like Joon and I were bound to continue, losing ourselves in each other throughout the night.
***
The morning sun crept in through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. I stirred, feeling Namjoon’s arm wrapped around me, our fingers loosely entwined as we lay facing each other. His eyes were still closed, a relaxed expression softening his features. I smiled, gently tracing my thumb over his knuckles, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth and contentment.
As if sensing my gaze, Namjoon’s eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
“Morning,” I replied, a little shy as I tightened my hold on his hand. We lay in silence for a few moments, just taking in the comfort of being close, his fingers absently tracing small circles along my back. I layed there with him, enjoying the quiet simplicity of the moment, feeling like we didn’t need any words to understand what we were both feeling.
After a while, a thought crossed my mind, and I couldn’t resist asking. “You know… I’ve been meaning to ask,” I started, my voice barely above a whisper, “you mentioned you liked me a while back. Was it… that time during our date, when we played Two Truths and a Lie, and you mentioned that you had a crush on someone… Was that me?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as his thumb continued to stroke along my spine. “Yes, but” he said, looking into my eyes with a gentle smile. “It was actually before that, long before.”
Namjoon’s eyes held mine as he gathered his thoughts, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know if I ever told you this, but the first time I saw you, it wasn’t like anything I expected. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, you just… had this ease about you that made everyone around you feel comfortable. It got to me.”
His fingers traced light patterns along my face now as he spoke. “Back then, I was with my ex, so I didn’t dwell on it too much. But even so, there was this… spark of curiosity, you know? Like, I wanted to understand what made you, you.” His smile grew fonder, his eyes distant, lost in the memory. I felt my cheeks warm at his confession, my heart racing as I watched him speak. “And then… when my relationship ended, it felt like I was finally allowing myself to really notice you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “But by then, I could tell you had your eyes set on Jimin. And I’ll be honest, it bugged me a little. I just couldn’t shake this feeling that he was missing something… how foolish he was not to notice you”.
I could see the faintest hint of frustration flash in his eyes“ And I don’t know, maybe it was selfish, but… I wanted you to look at me that way. It started small at first, just these little moments where I’d think about you, or catch myself looking for you at gatherings. Then, when I’d see you laughing at something he said, I’d feel this pang of… jealousy.”
He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and filled with something raw. “When I saw you on that balcony, smoking and looking lost in your thoughts, I couldn’t help but wonder what was on your mind. And I thought, why not make my move? If Jimin was too blind to see you, maybe I’d have a chance. Even if it was selfish, even if I was coming in knowing you liked someone else… I just wanted you to see me, notice me, even if I had to pretend at first.”
Namjoon paused, looking down at our hands, his thumb stroking softly over my knuckles now. “I guess that was when I realised… pretending or not, I just wanted you to feel about me the way I felt about you.”
His honesty made my heart swell, and I was at a loss for words. I could see in his eyes that every word was real, and in that moment, I knew he was letting me see a part of him he rarely showed anyone else.
My heart pounded as his words sank in, the honesty and vulnerability behind them making my chest tighten with emotion.
“Guess it was lucky for me that Jimin never noticed, then,” I whispered with a soft smile, and he chuckled, his forehead pressing gently against mine.
“Lucky for both of us,” he murmured, his gaze warm and full of promise. “This still feels like a dream,” I said softly, my gaze drifting over his face. “These past two months, and then last night… it all feels unreal.”
“Feels pretty real to me,” Namjoon replied.
I grinned, unable to resist a tease. “You know,” I murmured, leaning in slightly, “for someone who was so sure of himself last night, you seemed pretty determined to impress me.”
Namjoon’s brow arched, and he chuckled, squeezing my hand. “Determined? Or just confident?”
I let out a laugh. “Confident? Maybe,” I said, grinning. “But I’d say you were pretty eager to prove yourself.”
“Oh, is that so?” he asked, his voice low and playful, as his fingers continued to trace gentle patterns along my hand. “Sounds to me like you enjoyed every second.”
I bit my lip, raising a brow. “I don’t know, Mr. Kim. You may have to convince me again.”
Namjoon’s eyes sparkled, his hand slipping around my waist, pulling me a little closer. “Careful, Y/N. If you keep teasing me, I might just have to make it my mission to remind you all day,” he murmured, his lips hovering close to mine, a playful challenge lighting up his gaze.
I smirked, raising an eyebrow. “How about I take charge today instead?”
A flicker of curiosity sparked in his eyes, and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the idea. Instead, he leaned back slightly, watching me with a smirk of his own as I moved even closer, letting the suggestion linger between us.
We were still both very much naked from last night, with only the sheet draped over us. I shifted slightly, lifting myself just enough to reach toward his nightstand on my left, remembering from last night that this was where he kept the condoms, or at least, I was pretty sure that’s where they were. Namjoon’s smirk deepened as he watched me, clearly intrigued. "Oh, I’m all yours," he murmured, his tone full of invitation. He leaned back further against the headboard, keeping his arms folded behind his head, completely giving in to the moment.
As I inched closer, I took my time, savouring the way his eyes never left mine, his gaze filled with a mix of amusement and anticipation. I slowly opened the wrapper, letting the silence hang between us, thick with tension and a playful edge. His breathing grew just a little heavier, betraying his calm facade. His cock hard and dripping already as I slid the wrapper over him.
“Looks like someone’s enjoying the view,” I teased, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder as I positioned myself just above him.
He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Well, you’re making it hard not to.” He raised an eyebrow, letting his gaze roam over me. I smirked, letting my fingers trail slowly down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. "Oh, am I?" I whispered, tilting my head as I looked at him, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Because I could always take my time... really draw this out. Make you wait." 
Namjoon’s gaze darkened, his smirk widening as he tried to keep his composure. “You think I’d let you get away with that?” he murmured, but there was a challenge in his tone that only encouraged me.
I leaned in, letting my lips brush against his neck, my breath warm against his skin. "I don’t think you’re in any position to stop me, actually," I teased, pressing a few light kisses along his jaw, my hands tracing down his sides, deliberately slow.
A low chuckle escaped him, and he tilted his head slightly to give me more access, his hands resting on my hips but making no move to stop me. “Careful,” he whispered, his voice soft but intense. “I might just lose my patience.” 
“Then I guess you’ll just have to wait and see how long you can hold out,” I replied, brushing my lips just over his, close enough to feel the warmth, but keeping just enough distance to keep him guessing. I held his gaze, letting a playful smile spread across my lips as I positioned myself, teasingly closer. Leaning in, I pressed my body against his, letting him feel the warmth but still holding back. I could feel his hands tighten around my waist as his breathing grew heavier, his gaze intense with anticipation and just a hint of frustration.
Slowly, I sank down, letting him feel the barest hint of contact, then just as quickly lifted myself back up, watching his reaction. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing with a mix of desire and impatience. “You’re really testing me here,” he muttered, his voice rough, a little desperate.
I smiled at his frustration, feeling the power shift in my favour as I teased him further. "Oh, but I like watching you squirm," I whispered, my voice light, yet dripping with the tension of the moment. I lowered myself just enough to feel the brush of him against me, but pulled away before it could escalate.
Namjoon let out a frustrated groan, his hands gripping my hips with an intensity that bordered on desperate. His eyes were burning with need, and I could see the control he was trying to maintain slipping away. "Y/N... please..." His voice was rough, almost pleading, and it sent a thrill through me.
I raised an eyebrow, enjoying the way he was unravelling before me. "Please what?" I teased, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered the words.
He froze for a moment, a conflicted look crossing his features before he finally let out a frustrated breath. "Please, don't make me beg," he muttered, his voice thick with want. "I can't take much more of this."
The challenge in his tone only made me smile wider. "Oh, but I think you can," I murmured, my fingers tracing his jawline as I leaned in close again, lips barely brushing his. "Beg for it, Namjoon."
The raw edge of his voice when he finally responded—"Please, Y/N, I need you..."—was all the confirmation I needed. The desperation in his eyes, the way his body tensed and trembled beneath me, made it impossible to resist. I slowly lowered myself once more, this time not pulling away.
When I sank down, both of us moaned in unison, the sound filling the air between us. I started moving up and down, the rhythm slow at first, but I could feel Namjoon trying to hold back his moans, his control slipping. He couldn't contain it anymore, and he began moaning my name, deep and desperate.
“Y/N…”
“Yeah?” I barely replied, my voice a whisper.
“I am yours, Y/N…”
The sound of it sent a rush of heat through me, and I found myself doing the same, moaning his name as I picked up the pace, moving faster and more urgently. He tightened his grip on my hips, his fingers digging in as he helped me move faster, the thrusts harsher now, each one more powerful than the last. His lips travelled down my neck and chest, and he began to play with my breasts, his kisses trailing down my body, sending waves of pleasure through me. My hands ran down his back, nails lightly scratching his skin as he groaned into me, his body pressing harder against mine.
He groaned my name again, the sound low and desperate, making my body tremble in response. I could feel the heat building inside of me, the pleasure spiralling with every move. I arched into him, feeling his teeth graze my skin, the sensation causing my legs to shake.
My hands roamed up to his hair, tugging him closer, pulling him into a kiss that was as urgent as everything else between us. His tongue met mine, hungry and demanding. The heat between us was unbearable now, the tension mounting, and I could feel myself getting closer to the edge with every passing second.
“You’re in control, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Take what you want.”
His mouth was parted, a low growl escaping him as he groaned, his eyes dark with need.
“God, Y/N, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, his fingers digging into my skin. “Don’t stop, don’t slow down.”
I leaned down, pressing my chest against his, our lips brushing together briefly before I lifted myself again, the sensation of him filling me overwhelming. His hands slid to my back, pulling me closer, pressing me into him as he thrust up in time with my movements, making me gasp.
“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Namjoon breathed out. “I can’t... I can’t hold back much longer.”
“Say my name,” I whispered, my voice sultry as I rode him even faster.
“Y/N!” Namjoon gasped, his body trembling beneath me. “Y/N, please… don’t stop.”
The desperation in his voice made me smile, and I pushed myself to go even faster, each thrust more powerful than the last. I could feel myself getting closer, the pressure in my lower stomach tightening as I moved with him, both of us chasing that inevitable release. “Fuck, Y/N… I’m so close…” Namjoon groaned, his hands gripping my ass harder, his body arching into mine as he kept me in place, him buried deep inside, grinding back and forth, stimulating my clit with every move. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to keep his composure.
“Me too,” I panted, my voice breathless as I leaned down to kiss him, our lips crashing together in a desperate, hungry kiss. I kept riding him, faster now, each motion pushing us both closer to the edge. “Don’t stop, Namjoon... keep going...”
“I won’t,” he muttered, his voice rough, his hands pressing me down onto him harder, pushing us both to the brink. “Fuck, Y/N... I’m going to...”
His body tensed beneath me, and I felt the tight coil inside me snap as I let out a low moan, the pleasure rushing through me, making my vision blur for a moment. Namjoon followed right after, his grip tightening on me as he groaned my name, his release overwhelming him.
We both collapsed, breathless and spent, our bodies still tangled together, as the tension finally eased, leaving us in the aftermath of everything. I rested against his chest, trying to catch my breath, his heart still pounding beneath my ear.
"God," he whispered softly, his fingers gently running through my hair, his voice hushed but full of satisfaction. "That was... incredible."
I smiled, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the quiet settle between us as we tried to slow our breathing. ***
After, we showered together, the water cascading down our bodies, we shared a peaceful silence, the steam fogging up the bathroom. There was an unspoken comfort between us, the quiet intimacy of helping each other wash our bodies. The moments that would normally feel awkward or rushed felt so natural with him, every touch between us a wordless connection that I hadn't realised I was craving.
When we finally stepped out, the warmth of the room met our damp skin, and I reached for a towel, drying my hair as Namjoon looked at me with that familiar concern.
"Let me help you with your hair," he said softly, stepping closer.
I gave him a playful smile, brushing the towel through my hair. “It’s fine, Namjoon. I got it,” I reassured him, wanting to do it myself since I knew it would take a while to dry.
He chuckled, clearly not ready to stop being helpful. “Okay, then how about I make us some coffee? You probably need it after all that…” His words trailed off with a grin, but there was a hint of awkwardness in his tone, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to go from here.
“Sounds good,” I said, reaching for one of his shirts hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was oversized, the fabric soft and warm as I pulled it over my head, a small comfort against my still-damp skin. It felt right, almost like it was meant for me.
As Namjoon turned toward the kitchen, I couldn’t help but linger for a moment, watching him walk away. His broad shoulders and the way his muscles flexed with each step had my heart racing. I felt this undeniable pull to him, and the shirt I wore only made me feel closer, more connected to him. It was like I was already a part of his world, and that realisation made me smile, despite the growing rush in my chest.
I entered the kitchen, stopping in front of him to get his attention. The sight of me in his shirt, with nothing but my bare legs showing, made him freeze for a second. His eyes darkened, and the intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore. He swallowed hard, the breath hitching in his throat as he looked me up and down, as if trying to decide whether he could keep his composure or if he was going to lose himself.
Before I could say anything, he stepped toward me, and with one swift motion, he lifted me up onto the kitchen counter, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was desperate and full of hunger. “You look so good in my shirt…” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and raspy. “I don’t think I can get enough of you.”
His hands roamed to my waist, pulling me closer and I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, the heat between us escalating in an instant. But just as things started to get more heated, the sound of a phone ringing broke through the thick tension in the room. I pulled away just slightly, eyes narrowing as I tried to figure out whose phone it was. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath. It could’ve been Jungkook, or worse, my sister. Neither of them had heard from me since I’d come back here with Namjoon, and I knew they’d be worried by now. We hadn’t texted them about anything, not even letting them know I was still here.
Namjoon, looking just as frustrated at the interruption, gave me a brief kiss on the forehead before pulling away. “I’ll grab our phones,” he said, his voice heavy with need but also that underlying concern for what was going on outside the bubble we’d created for ourselves.
I slid back down from the counter, standing with my legs shaky from the intensity of our kiss. Namjoon went to grab the phones from the living room, and I quickly adjusted my shirt, feeling the sudden awkwardness of the situation hit me.
Namjoon returned with both phones in hand, and I glanced at the screen of mine, seeing the name that immediately caused my stomach to flip, my sister. I let out a deep breath before answering, holding the phone to my ear while my eyes stayed locked on Namjoon, who was now back at the counter, making coffee as though nothing had happened.
"Hey," I said into the phone, trying to sound casual, but there was a slight quiver in my voice that betrayed me.
“Y/N, are you still at Namjoon’s?” My sister’s voice was laced with concern. “I’ve been calling, texting, you didn’t answer any of my messages. We were getting worried!”
I glanced at Namjoon again, and his eyes were on me. There was no judgement, just an understanding in his gaze.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, speaking into the phone while my eyes never left Namjoon. I couldn’t help but smile at the way he moved about the kitchen so casually, so unaffected by what we’d just experienced. “I’m still at Namjoon’s, okay? I promise, I’ll explain everything later.”
My sister didn’t sound fully convinced, but she let out a small sigh. “Alright, just call me when you’re back. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I will,” I assured her, hanging up after a brief exchange of more pleasantries. I looked over at Namjoon, who had just finished making the coffee and was now smiling coming towards me. His smile was effortless, revealing his adorable dimples, and there was a warmth in his gaze that deepened with every moment we shared. As I stood there, the realisation slowly crept in that everything was finally falling into place. Soon, we'd have to explain everything to the group, the fake dating, the misunderstandings, and everything that led us to this point. Sure, some details would be left out, things that didn’t need to be said, but it no longer mattered. What mattered now was what we had here, right in this moment, real, unfiltered, and undeniable.
With Namjoon, everything felt authentic. There was no pretending, no uncertainty. For the first time, I didn’t have to second-guess myself or him. I was falling for him in a way I hadn’t expected, and this time, it wasn’t for show. It wasn’t a story we were playing out for anyone else. This was real. This was ours. And as I stood there with him, I knew that this was the beginning of something new, something I never wanted to let go of.
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