#the title was supposed to be for... a fake dating fic but

[pencil-n-pen]

EYE TO EYE, THIGH TO THIGH

. ۫ ꣑ৎ .

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rafe x fem! black cat! pogue! reader

previous part | masterlist | kofi

this is a sequel but it can be read as a standalone!!

summary: you’ve done it. you’re actually dating the Rafe Cameron. He’s everything you didn’t think he’d be. So maybe you’re a tiny, little bit in love with him.

cw: honestly not much considering this is a rafe fic, relationship insecurity, references to past bad relationships i guess? rafe is rafe and reader is reader :P

tags/tropes: Rafe spoiling reader bc i feel like we didn’t get enough in the last fic, relationship insecurity, fluff, reader is secretly shy and has so much anxiety she just hides it by being a bitch (me too girl) reader feeling safe enough with Rafe to be soft, squishy, shy, and girly-girl <3

a/n: okay so yall at that last fic up i am surprised i will admit. also guys pls appreciate the fact that the color scheme for the first fic was blue and now it’s pink. also fairy warning, the tone of this fic is way different than the first one, we’re highlighting reader’s insecurities so she’s not as maneater-black cat. Rafe is showing her she doesn’t have to be all of that with him :) He loves spoiling his girl <3

title taken from Little Bit by Lykke Li —the original, not the remix— aka the sequel’s anthem. i highly suggest giving it a listen (especially while reading !!)

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Despite projecting confidence and arrogance, you don’t actually know that much about relationships. It’s easy to act like you know better when you know better, and for the most part, you do.

After that fake relationship fiasco, you had to be painfully honest with yourself about what you would and wouldn’t tolerate in a future relationship, if you ever were to get in one.

And now you are in one with the least likely person you ever thought you’d start dating, and well. You kind of feel like you’re bracing for pain that —hopefully— won’t come.

You’ve upheld a strong belief that all relationships are terrible to some extent. The bickering, the clinginess, the cheating. Lack of chemistry. Lack of physical attraction.

None of these things are present in your relationship with Rafe. Except the bickering, but it’s not real fighting. Rafe just enjoys riling you up so he can kiss you senseless after. It’s a hobby of his.

Your first and only real argument thus far was about your house.

“My dad is a real estate developer,” He’d said, jaw tight. “And your house is the size of a fuckin’ postage stamp. Just let me fix it.”

“Rafe, that kind of renovation and repair costs thousands of dollars. Not hundreds, thousands. I can’t be indebted to your family like that.”

Rafe had just groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, baby, you need to get this through that thick fucking skull of yours, but we’re rich. Filthy. Fucking. Rich.”

He’s enunciated the last three words, practically spitting them.

“And you’re my girl. I am your boyfriend. I’m your provider. I take care of you. That’s my job. Can you let me do my job? Can you afford the repairs? Look at me in my eyes and tell me your job at that cafe is going to pay for the renovations.”

“…”

“That’s what I thought. Look, it’s a win for everybody. You get your house repaired for free, and my dad gets to boost his public image. He’s always stressing about that.”

It was hard to complain about things while you were staying in their mansion during the repairs —which, shockingly, didn’t take long. You suppose your house is pretty small and the damage wasn’t that bad.

Your stomach churns with guilt every time you think about all the money that it cost to have the work done. Money you didn’t pay.

It keeps you up at night, a constant, disgraceful, litany.

Money money money money money money money money money money money money money—

So you finally decide to approach Rafe about it.

He’s seated at his desk, headphones on, playing some game with Topper and Kelce.

You peer over his shoulder, trying to figure out if this is a game he can pause or not.

You should wait then, he’s busy, and like, he’s going to think it’s stupid. Actually, maybe you shouldn’t ask him at all—

“I can hear you lingering back there. Do you need something, baby?”

“You can’t hear me,” You grumble, stepping forward so you’re lingering next to him, instead of behind. “I don’t need anything. Just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Ooooooooo!” Topper and Kelce both coo, their voices tinny and barely audible through Rafe’s headphones.

“Shut up, both of you,” You say, leaning down to rhe microphone on the side of Rafe’s headphones, “Neither of you have girlfriends.”

“Yeah,” Rafe chuckles, “The bitchless don’t get to say anything.”

“Rafe, don’t call girls bitches.”

“But you call girls bitches.”

“That’s because I am a girl. And a bitch.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re not supposed to understand it.”

He shakes his head then pushes his headphones partway off his head. “What’d you need to talk about? Something important?”

You shake your head. “It can wait.”

He frowns, muttering out a quick “bye assholes,” To Topper and Kelce before clicking out of his game and taking his headphones off.

He spins in his chair, facing you. “How’s it work that you call me a dickhead without shame but can’t tell me when something’s wrong?”

You shrug. “Cause sometimes you’re being a dickhead.”

“And the other part?”

A slight, embarrassed flush begins to creep up your neck. “I don’t know.”

“Mmm,” He hums, clearly dissatisfied. “What did you want to talk about?”

You steel yourself.

“I don’t want you spending so much money on me anymore.”

“Absolutely not.”

His words are firm and resolute, leaving absolutely no room for argument.

It’s a good thing you were graced with the ability to make room for an argument. Runs in your family.

“Rafe,” You start, crossing your arms- to which he immediately rolls his eyes with a groan, “I’m serious. You gotta stop. It’s too much.”

“It’s not.”

“It is! It keeps me up at night, worrying about all the money I owe you—“

He drags a hand down his face. “I’m going to stop you right there, because you’re being stupid again. You don’t owe me anything. Why do I spend money on you, baby?”

“Because… you have poor spending habits?”

He rolls his eyes again, reaching forward to grab your hands in his, tugging you forward. “I spend money on you because I like to.”

“I don’t know why.”

“You’re not supposed to understand it,” He says, parroting your earlier words back at you. “Seriously. There’s no way in hell I’m going to stop spending money on you.”

You sigh, and he squeezes your hands consoling.

“I know, I know. Must be so hard having an unlimited budget and a hot boyfriend.”

“Shut up.”

He pulls you down for a kiss, something gentler than usual. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

Despite what he said, your guilt prevails. Then, it sticks its greedy little fingers into your brain and takes root, and suddenly you’re thinking about all the other ways Rafe spoils you. And surely it can’t last, right?

It’s a little twinge when he picks you up from work. (it’s not that far from his house, but multiple trips is a lot of gas, and gas isn’t cheap and that’s more money—)

It’s a prickle on the back of your neck when he insists you borrow his clothes or use his shower. (Luxuries, because his clothes are so much better made than your own and imagine the water bill with another person using the shower—)

And sometimes —it sounds stupid but you can’t help it— he’s just too hot. You just look at him- at the set of his jaw and the curve of his cheekbones and the rippling muscle of his bicep and how he fucking smells, and you just can’t seriously believe that he’s yours. (He always says he’s your boyfriend with such emphasis on the word yours. Like he belongs to you, not the other way around.)

You hate it, because really, you need to enjoy what you have, because it’s what practically every girl dreams of having, but the fear, the guilt— it’s invasive. A little parasite that eats away at your confidence. Makes you feel just a little sick, all the time.

“Alright,” Rafe says one day, pulling you aside into the travel section of Barnes and Nobles —the most secluded, because who even uses the travel section anymore?— and leveling you with a look. “You need to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wro—“

“Don’t give me that shit,” His voice lowers, “We’ve been in here for nearly thirty minutes, and you haven’t picked out one book. You haven’t even looked at one. For you, that’s like the apocalypse. What’s wrong?”

You freeze, panicked. “I think we should break up.”

“No.”

“Wha— You can’t just say no.”

The muscle in his jaw jumps. “Yes I can, because that isn’t the issue.”

“Yes it is, this isn’t working out—“

“Yes it is.”

“Are you just going to refute everything I say?” You hiss.

“I am because you’re lying, right to my face.”

He leans down so you’re face to face. “I’m gonna ask one last time. What’s. Wrong.”

“I don’t know!” You explode, whisper shouting. “I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t know if something’s wrong with me, or if we’re not compatible or what. I just…”

You sigh, slumping. “I feel so guilty, all the time. For all the money you spend on me, and all the stuff you do for me. I feel like a bad girlfriend, and I feel like you don’t think I can take care of myself.”

He leans back against a bookshelf. “So when I spoil you, the thing that’s my job as a boyfriend, you feel guilty?”

“Yes.”

“And you think I’m doing this because I don’t think you can take care of yourself?”

“Yes? I don’t know.”

He gazes at you for a beat, eyes flicking over your form.

“If you would just tell me the name of that guy—“

“No. You would actually kill him.”

“He’d deserve it.”

“Not the point here, Ray.”

“Kind of is,” He mumbles, turning his head.

You’re both silent for a few moments, and you’re sure you’ve gone and ruined things when he speaks again.

“Tell me what you need.”

Your shoulders hike up to your ears. “I don’t know what—“

“Yes you do,” His eyes are half-lidded as he looks down at you. “Tell me what you need. Use your words.”

Your skin feels hot and flushed.

“You’re not going to like it.”

He sighs. “You get all up in your fuckin’ head about stuff and you never stop to ask if I even care.”

“You—“

“I’m obsessed with you. I will always give you whatever you want, every time you ask, whenever you ask. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“No. I want to hear you say it.”

“I understand.”

“You understand what?”

“That you’re obsessed with me, and you’ll always give me whatever I want, every time I ask, whenever I ask.”

He hums, satisfied. “Good girl. Now tell me what you need.”

“Reassurance,” You breathe, a rush of words and air. “It’s stupid, because—“

“Don’t start with your independent woman bullshit.”

You frown, but continue. “I just don’t want to be overbearing.”

He snorts. “I don’t think you could be overbearing if you tried. You hardly ask for anything. Crank it up, baby.”

You groan, stepping forward into his awaiting arms and smashing your face into his chest. “But that’s exhausting.”

He wraps his arms around you, slowly rocking you side to side. “And doing everything yourself isn’t?”

“Different kind of exhausting.”

“Mm. I see.”

You pull away, peering up at him through your lashes. “Are you really obsessed with me?”

His lips twitch. “Is that all you got from that conversation?”

“It was the only important part.”

He leans down and plants a kiss on your nose. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person who hasnt noticed.”

He tugs on your hand, leading you back through the store and letting you wander through your favorite sections, this time stopping to actually look at things. Every time you step away without handing it to him he pushes you back, giving you a stern look.

“I don’t want to get the whole store, Rafe.”

“You could.”

“You’re not helping.”

With effort, you manage to thin the stack to the ones you actually want, not just everything you’re interested in. Rafe gives a huff but allows you to put some of the books back, but only under the promise that you’re not doing it because “you’re being stupid again.”

When you get back to the car, small stack of books in your lap, you decide to give the whole ‘asking for things’ a go.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Are you upset with me?”

The rumble of the engine starting reverberates through the car. “No.”

“Are you annoyed with me?”

“Hold onto your books, I’m turning. No.”

“Are you planning on being upset with me anytime soon?”

He squints at you. “Is this going to take long?”

“Depends on your answer.”

“No.”

“No to what?”

“Your dumbass question.”

“It’s not a dumbass question.”

“Yes it is. Who the fuck plans to be upset with someone?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“You’re so lucky I’m obsessed with you.”

—

“Rafe?”

“Hmm?”

You’re sitting on his bed, legs crossed with his head pillowed on your thigh, arms wrapped around your waist. It’s a warm evening- his bedroom window is cracked open and the salty breeze wafts through the room, pleasantly cool air coming with it. You’re wearing a matching set of silk pajamas— they were expensive as hell and probably one of the only things you don’t feel bad about Rafe buying for you, just because they’re so damn comfortable.

His eyes are closed in contentedness as you slide your hands down his neck and over his shoulders. He’s forgone a shirt tonight, and if you look closely, you can see goosebumps left in the wake of your slow, deft hands.

“Before we started dating- that time in the car. You said you like me because I’m mouthy and stubborn. But I’m not really that mouthy and stubborn now. Do you like me less?”

He squeezes you tight. “Doesn’t your brain have an off switch?”

“No.”

He grumbles something unintelligible under his breath, his throat vibrating against your legs as he does it.

“Okay, first of all, you’re still mouthy and stubborn as hell, just in a different way. And no. I don’t like you less. If anything, I like you more.”

You worry your lip between your teeth. “How come? I thought most of my appeal came from the challenge.”

“That’s bullshit, baby. I like that you’re mouthy and stubborn. I also like that you’re soft and squishy too.”

His hand drifts lower, kneading flesh as it goes. “Really like that you’re squishy.”

“Mm. I think I’m a little too squishy.”

He presses his face closer to your tummy. “Are we talking physically or metaphorically here? You’re losing me.”

“Mm. Bit of both.”

His nose presses into the plush flesh. “No.”

“Just no?”

“No.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He squeezes you once, then relaxes again. “Please go back to rubbing me, baby. Your hands feel so fucking nice.”

“Where do you want rubbed?”

“Anywhere. Jus’ wanna feel you.”

He falls asleep before the sun sets fully, breaths tickling your stomach and arms still firm around your waist.

The guilt starts to whither.

—

You’re going to do it. You’re going to ask him for something before he can offer. You’re gonna do it. It’s not hard. You can do it.

You slide into the passenger side door, leaning over to give him his customary kiss.

“How was work?”

“Can we please stop at that coffee place I like on our way?”

He blinks, taken back by your request for a moment. He recovers quickly, a smile tugging at his lips as he gives you another kiss, this one a little more heated than yours.

“Of course we can. You want that drink you like? The one with the cold foam?”

You nod, trying to discreetly rub the sweat from your palms onto your pants.

“Aww, look at you,” He coos, “So worked up over a little coffee. You spent your whole shift worryin’ about this, didn’t you?”

“Not the whole shift.” You mumble, embarrassed.

“It’s just a little coffee,” He teases, “No need to start worrying.”

“Too late.”

“Then we better go get that coffee, huh?”

He stretches his arm across the console, hand finding the meat of your thigh and just resting on it. It feels almost like a reward.

—

He catches on quick that you are, actually, trying to ask for things. Even though your skin prickles a little bit everytime, because you can do these things yourself, of course, but Rafe always gets this pinched look on his face when you insist on doing something yourself.

Rafe says that you’re the weird one in this scenario, not him. That most girls jump at the chance to sit back and let their boyfriend’s do all the work. But that just doesn’t sit right with you. It feels… unequal. If he does everything, if he takes care of you, then what are you bringing go the relationship?

“Your hot ass, for one.”

You swat his arm, sitting on towels on the beach in front of his house.

“I’m serious Rafe!”

“When are you not?”

You swat at him again, but he just chuckles, pushing up so he’s leaning back on his elbows. “Any chance you’d be satisfied with the ass answer?”

You give him a look.

He sighs. “Figured not. Okay,”

He rolls over, lying on his stomach and staring up at you. You cross your legs, absentmindedly taking his face in your hands.

He tips his head into your palms. “Permission to get mushy?”

“Permission granted.”

His eyes, nearly the same shade as the ocean behind him flit over your face before he speaks. “Well for one, you don’t take my shit. Pretty sure my family likes that about you.”

“As if you actually listen.”

“Don’t interrupt, I’m being mushy for you. You take care of me too. It’s cute as shit. You don’t even realize when you’re doing it. You’re doing it right now.”

You frown. “I am?”

“Mhm,” He taps your hands on either side of his face, “Just like this. So stop worrying about it.”

“But like, this doesn’t require any effort and I like doing it, and—“

He raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, you maybe have a point,” You concede, brushing a thumb over the crest of his cheekbone. “But it still doesn’t feel equal. I’m not doing anything, really.”

“You are. Don’t sell yourself short, angel,” He presses a kiss to your palm, then turns back to you, hand sliding over yours. “I promise you. It’s fair.”

“You promise?”

“Mhm.”

“You have to say you promise.”

He leans up and captures your lips in his, slow and soft and warm. The kind of thing that makes your stomach flip and your insides melt.

He pulls back, lips brushing yours as he speaks.

“I promise.”

—

Slowly, slowly, you allow yourself to enjoy things. Enjoy your insanely hot boyfriend, enjoy not having to worry about money- for anything, big or small.

Sometimes you buy something small just for the thrill of it. Sometimes it makes you guilty afterwards, sometimes it doesn’t.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah baby?”

“There’s a sale at Victoria’s Secret—“

“Get in the car.”

Some things he’s definitely more enthusiastic about than others, but, for reasons you don’t understand, he really does just enjoy spending money on you. “Doing his boyfriend duties,” as he’d put it.

A small part of you is still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the longer it doesn’t, the more you settle into the comfort and, dare you say it, love that he wraps you in.

“Ray?”

“Hmm?”

You’re at a bonfire at the Boneyard, a scaled down version of the usual event that the bonfires end up being. Not a big turnout tonight— probably because of the cold snap threatening to turn summer into fall.

Rafe comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and dipping his chin into your shoulder, lips warm and soft where the meet the skin of your neck.

“You need something, sweetheart?”

You hum for minute, thinking. Sometimes you just want him near. You’ve come to learn you’re actually a very tactile girlfriend— when your boyfriend actually makes you feel loved and cared for.

“Can we go home soon?”

“Of course baby.”

“We should stop and get some food. M’ a little hungry.”

“Yeah? We can stop wherever.”

“And I was thinking,” You pause, the teeniest curl of apprehension poking your chest, “Maybe we could go out tomorrow? Go to a couple shops?”

He mouths the side of your neck, breath warm. “I think that’s a great idea. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Cause I get to show off my girl. My beautiful,” He sucks at the skin of your neck, a shudder running through you, “beautiful girlfriend.”

“Mm, what about me? Don’t I get to show off my handsome, sexy boyfriend?”

He grins against your skin. “Anytime you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

You aren’t either.

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[kpopfanfictrash]

Jingle All the Way Collaboration

Coming your way this holiday season! Whether you've been naughty or nice, you'll have seven fics to unwrap by @kpopfanfictrash , @leahsfavefics , @kithtaehyung , @yoonia , @cybrsan and @sugaurora.

All second chance romance. All holiday themed. All attempting to utilize the same quote: "The holidays aren't so bad with you around." Come down the chimney, embrace your inner Vixen, and warm up this season with the Jingle All the Way collab!

Content Creator: all amazing banners are made by the truly spectacular @kithtaehyung!!

(Links to be added as fics are posted)

Title: The Ten Days of Ex-Mas

Author: @kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; hockey player au, second chance au, oh noo there was only one bed

Summary: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Posting Date: December 19th, 2023

Title: All I Want for Christmas is Joon

Author: @leahsfavefics

Pairing: art historian!Namjoon x art historian!reader (f)

Rating/genre: m (18+) angst, fluff, smut, second chance au

Summary: You have had a rough year following the mutual break up with your grad school sweetheart. On a whim, you book a spontaneous trip to Europe for the holidays to help get you out of the funk you’re in and assert your independence. It would be great, if it weren’t for the fact that you keep bumping into your ex boyfriend.

Posting Date: December 21st, 2023

Title: Back to December

Author: @kithtaehyung

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; brother’s best friend au, wedding au, second chance au

Summary: Ever since you left town to pursue your dreams, life has fast forwarded into one big blur. so when you hit pause to attend your brother’s wedding exactly three years later, your brain instinctively resets and rewinds. because you have to spend it with the very person that had been there at the start. the one person you regret leaving behind.

Posting Date: TBD

Title: A Christmas Fix

Author: @yoonia

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+), secret baby au, s2l au, fake dating au on the side (more on that later)

Summary: One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

Title: Everwinter

Author: @kithtaehyung

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; ex-fwb 2 lovers au, second chance au

Summary: You told him you loved him, and that was a mistake. Because years later, you both meet up with your old friend group for a holiday trip, and neither of you have forgotten that.

Posting Date: TBD

Title: Miracle of the Season

Author: @cybrsan

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; angel au, second chance au

Summary: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, a familiar face pops up and you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

Posting Date: December 29th, 2023

Title: A Porn Star's Guide to the Holidays

Author: @sugaurora

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); smut; second chance au

Summary: Jung Hoseok was your first love, a relationship that ended only because your post-high school dreams led you down two very different paths. Yours brought you to Jeon Jungkook, an innovative talent agent promising to produce the most well-loved adult entertainment artists of the era. And that’s how you became an erotic market darling, doing just about everything from outdoor gangbangs to golden showers and a long list of kinks in between.

Ten years later and you’re ready to find a new path, celebrating your exit from the business with one last appearance at the biggest adult industry convention of the year. Only when you arrive, you find yourself unexpectedly face-to-face with your high school sweetheart. Suddenly, you’re forced to confront where the years have taken you and feelings that may have never quite gone away.

What’s a former porn star to do?

Posting Date: TBD

[anancientlegacy]

you'll never guess -- s. sallow

Pairing: sebastian sallow x reader

Genre: fluff, some angst with reader's father, but that's all

Note: I use “MC” to refer to the reader, but I also explain why in the fic itself! This is still in fifth year even before the player meets Anne, so they don’t do anything crazy. Merely mentions of kissing. Sassy Sebastian and sassier Imelda.

Trope: Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating.

Word count: 2.2k

Crossposted to ao3!

“Hey, Garreth, Ominis, the lot of you that have only grown up in the wizarding world, I’ve got a question.” 

It’s the first words you’ve spoken to everyone around you, your entire friend group sprawled or stretched out on one side of the summoner’s court. All of you have been watching Samantha and Leander make a go of it, over and over and over again — you don’t always have positive things to say about Prewett, but you can’t help but acknowledge his tenacity. Samantha’s final Accio resounds all around you, cutting through the air as she pulls her ball in for another 50 points, blowing her opponent out of the water despite having won the game by her second ball.

“You can say purebloods, MC, it won’t hurt any feelings.” You know Leander doesn’t mean anything by this — you’ve heard Zenobia call him a “no-talent moonmind” in passing — but you can feel Ominis bristle beside you at the mere implication of an impending blood status discussion. You’re quick to shake your head, muttering a ‘no, not exactly what I meant’ while rummaging through your newly-sewn bag (one made up entirely of garments you’d found no use for, because really, what use is a fedora to anyone) for something. Professor Weasley had helpfully enchanted it to be almost endlessly deep, but you find yourself cursing this now. The fact that everyone pauses to watch you is not lost on you at all, and you can’t help but feel some sort of embarrassment.

“All I was asking, well, really, all I’m curious about, is what wizarding world courtship is like. Do you have calling hours, or daily tea, or anything of the sort? Ah, here it is.” You brandish a marriage manual with much gusto, having received it in the mail from your otherwise heavily detached father a few days ago. You’d offhandedly mentioned accompanying Sebastian to the Three Broomsticks to him in a letter, mostly assuming he wouldn’t read it — too busy with overseeing shoddy police work in Whitechapel, and ignoring the realities of magic and whatnot — but he had, to your surprise, replied. The first response all term.

My daughter,

Do not allow yourself to be charmed by young men with no prospects. Surely I raised you better than this. I have given this infernal creature a young ladies’ guide for you to peruse. Certainly letter vi. There are girls dropping like flies here, and I would greatly dislike to find you in a similar situation. 

Read it and report back. If you can send regular post rather than an owl I’d rather you that. Can’t have the neighbours asking too many questions. 

You’d left the letter upstairs under your bed to gather dust, not even bothering to take it with you to the room of requirement. The idea of Sebastian having no prospects is practically laughable to you, considering he’s one of the brightest wizards in your year… even if he is, simultaneously, one of the most troublesome. Your father has been pretending as if magic is pointless at best and a silly trick at worst ever since your magical mother left him with a toddler. 

You dislike him, but you suppose you’d despise her if you knew her. 

Summoner’s court is all but entirely forgotten as even Samantha steps down to join the other fifth years as they fully form a gaggle around you. Amit, to everyone’s surprise, grabs the manual right out of your hands, his nosiness — which he would and does tell you is simply Ravenclaw curiosity, despite you being in the same house — overcoming all societal norms. Poppy, ever one for any sort of gossip, reads the title aloud: “Letters to Young Ladies on their Entrance into the World, to which are added sketches from real life… quite a mouthful, isn’t it?”

“Are you asking if we have these preposterous things?” For once, you can agree with Prewett’s assessment of something. Judging by the slow, rising murmur of consensus around you, everyone else is surprised by themselves for the very same reason. 

“I’ve never seen something like that in my life.” Garreth tacks on to his housemate, and Ominis, never one to miss a prompting, says a swift “me neither” that brings forth a laugh from you and uneasy chuckles from those that don’t know him as well. 

“My father told me to read the sixth letter about unequal marriages because I went on a date, something that seemed to single handedly convince him that my destiny is to become another Whitechapel murder victim, as if those poor girls were the reasons for their untimely demises.” You’re prattling on, you know this, but the insult of receiving the book in the first place still smarts. Natty places a hand on your shoulder, one of the few to know the true extent of your parental issues.

“That’s sort of hilarious, isn’t it?” Imelda pops up out of nowhere, sly as always, and you surmise her arduous, somewhat pointless three-hour self-inflicted flying practice must be over for the day. There really is quite a crowd gathering around you — in fact, there’s basically only one person missing.

“Hold on.” It’s Leander this time, eyes squinting as if he’s having a difficult time puzzling something out. “A date? Who’d you go on a date with?” 

“She was never going to say yes to you, mate, give it up.” Imelda is quick to start fires that she knows she won’t put out herself, and the case of Prewett pursuing you, something both you and him like to pretend doesn’t exist for very different reasons, is one such thing. 

“Come off it, screw off.” He fires back, the best he can come up with as everyone watches, and you so badly want to laugh but settle for turning away and taking the manual back from Amit and Poppy. As long as they’re occupied, nobody will think to follow up —

“Honestly, MC, I want to know too.” Natty breaks your overly-optimistic train of thought, and the glance you send her way is withering. You and Sebastian are still feeling things out, after all: Not too casual, not too serious. Perhaps this is the best time to let everyone know. 

“Well…” You draw the word out, pulling it out into several syllables. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to tell you all without him being here. He should get a say in the reveal, too.” 

The resulting group groan is pure cacophony. Poppy dreamily wonders aloud if it’s an older man, while Imelda scrunches up her face as she relays the idea of it being someone younger. Amit whines about never being in on the secret, and you suspect Natty is gearing up to silently jinx you. Even Ominis breaks his kind aloofness by shoving your shoulder in a way that makes you wonder if he really can’t see anything at all, and Garreth furrows his brows, surely wondering if he can slip veritaserum into your drink at supper. Samantha, one of your roommates, murmurs something about putting a hex on your pillow tonight.

“I see.” Leander says, too smug for your liking. “MC won’t tell us who because she isn’t actually dating anyone.”

“That’s worse for you, you git,” Imelda snaps. “Means she dislikes you so much she’ll lie about a boyfriend.”

“Goodness!” You speak again, finally incensed by everything that’s happening. Prewett never fails to put you in some sort of mood. You don’t really have room for one more secret as it is, what with everything Professor Fig and the Keepers have entrust to you, and Ranrok’s brewing rebellion. “If you really must know, really and truly, it’s Sebastian. Happy?”

Silence. Sudden and significant silence. 

“Sallow?!” For once, Leander and Imelda are on the same page, their voices surprisingly harmonious together as they break the sound barrier. Garreth and Ominis both look unsurprised, though they may just be stoicists at this point. Even Poppy, who’s literally seen the two of you out at Hogsmeade together, seems taken aback. 

“What have I done now?” 

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. 

“My dad sent me a ladies’ manual about propriety and sorts because I told him I’d gone on a date, and this lot couldn’t handle me not saying who with.” Your shoulders untense themselves naturally,as he walks up beside you, and you swipe a spot of grease off of his nose with an index finger before wiping it back on his own robe. 

“How was detention? Midday is a terrible time to serve one.”

“Sharp just had me manually cleaning cauldrons, it wasn’t the absolute worst. Incorrectly prepared Ashwinder eggs smell positively noxious, though.”

“Serves you right, frankly –”

“You’ve got to be fooling us.” It’s Amit this time, eyes wide as saucers as he interrupts you. “The two of you bicker constantly.” 

“More than.” Ominis supplies, and you stick your tongue out at him, eliciting an “I felt that!” from your decreasingly dear friend. 

“They fight like brother and sister.” Leander seems to be holding on to his belief in the idea that your budding relationship is merely a ruse. “Worse — they’re completely opposite each other. MC is witty and charming, and Sallow is, well… Sallow.”

“I think they’re good for each other.” Garreth shrugs. “She’s a bit of a kleptomaniac and he’s somewhat addicted to getting caught doing stupid things.”

“MC is -” Leander tries one more time at pulling something over Sebastian, or you, or both of you, but your sort-of-boyfriend decides he’s had enough and doesn’t let him finish.

“The whole lot of you only call her MC because of me, you know. I doubt you even know that it starts for ‘my charge,’ because I was put in charge of her when she first went to Hogsmeade. 

“Where a troll attacked her?” 

“Opposites can attract!” Poppy, ever the believer in love, chimes in before you can defend Sebastian from Leander’s latest barb. “And friends fall in love all the time. They’re both quite lovely to us and to each other when you aren’t around.” Her sweet tone is even more devastating as she aims her cutting words at Prewett.

“It’s just been a few dates.” You interject, reeling from how quickly everyone is quipping at each other, cheeks heating up at the idea of love. The school year has really only just begun — you and Sebastian just happen to get along.

“Well, a few official dates.” Sebastian knocks your shoulder with his bicep, and you look up at his teasing smile knowing full and well that it’ll just warm your face further. “Ask me why I had detention.” Your cheeks cannot physically get any hotter, and you stop yourself from self-incriminatingly scowling at Sebastian. The story is embarrassing for him but you know he doesn’t care because it’s sure to embarrass you, too. His words are aimed at Prewett because he really wants to twist the knife, but he has everyone else’s rapt attention too. The two boys engage in a bit of a staring match, reminiscent of your very first Defense Against the Dark Arts class when you’d walked in on them, both aggravated, dueling each other. 

“Why?” Leander spits out, curiosity finally getting the best of him.

“Sharp heard some, er, snogging noises in his private potions store at night. We’d gone in to nab some fluxweed but realized that we rarely get time to just be alone together. This one was smart enough to disillusion herself the moment we heard the door unlock, but I was so taken aback that I couldn’t do the same in time. He walked in and I, unable to think of anything else, told him that I’d found myself increasingly attracted to leaping toadstools. Of course, he assumed I was fulfilling some sort of bet, but I ended up with detention and she got off scot free.” 

“Go on, tell them the details of my astrological chart too, won’t you.” You hiss, but Sebastian only laughs, reaching an arm out to toss over your shoulder and pull you in. “And it wasn’t snogging exactly. We were just… lightly kissing. Very chastely, I might add.” You know nobody believes you even as you’re telling the truth — Sebastian is more respectful than he lets on. 

“Chaste kissing?” Garreth whistles as Ominis says this, and you prepare yourself for sarcasm from the latter. “Maybe your father was right to send you a marriage manual.” 

Now it’s Sebastian’s turn to become beet red. 

“M-marriage manual? I thought it was just a thing for young ladies to read. Your father sent you a what?” 

Before you can say anything in response, Imelda breaks her uncharacteristic silence to begin humming a tune popularly played at wedding ceremonies, and you forget everything in the moment as you lunge at her. She calls her broom to her with ease before jumping on and, before you can think, you do the same, leaving your bag and the manual on the grass to chase after your friend. 

All Sebastian can do is gaze up at you hopelessly and totally smitten as he, still red-faced, gathers your things up and closes your bag. Perhaps it’s time for another Three Broomsticks date. By the looks of it, you and Imelda are on your way there via air travel anyways.

[melancholy-of-nadia]

heart on the window #5 (m) | ksj

title: heart on the window (m) pairing: ksj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au summary: BigTunaMan invites PrincessPeach69 to help him with his cam room! This is detailing a few of the many events (light bdsm, hanging with the boys, a rainy day at home, anything with Seokjin pretty much..) that happens within 6 months after taking up Seokjin's challenge to be his camgirl partner. What was once a chilhood rivalry between you too now leaves you two on the cusp of being friends and being something more as time goes on living with him... ? what will you do when a moment outside of filming for the cam room occurs between you and him? note: surprise! an hour earlier!! i'm sorry for disappearing for awhile since my last update. i had to get life-saving emergency surgery and spent my birthday month recovering then being 3/4 recovered i went to go see hobi and then i had to go back to work... not fun... but i managed to finish the whole fic so i will be uploading ch 5, 6, and 7 in the next few weeks leading up to jin's 2nd album release! crazy to think i released ch 1 when his first album dropped. i hope you enjoy this until the end! warnings: mini month timeskips, FEATURES THE OTHER BTS MEMBERS!, mild language, camboy! seokjin, protected s*x, blindfolds, cheesy low budget p*rno roleplay, femdom, cam "couple" in disguise, ASMR sounds, light bdsm, choking, riding, code word, grinding, orgasm denial, n*pple play, breast play, multiple org*sm, straddling, pet names, body worship, voyeurism, dirty talk, implied adult content streaming (camming), brat! reader, brat tamer! seokjin, aftercare drop date: May 3rd, 11:00pm pst word count: 7.1k crossposted on ao3 here <- chapter 4 | chapter 6 -> - -

Three weeks have passed since you started camming with Jin, and by now, your initial shyness has started to fade.

You still hide your face during streams (alternating between a mask, a blindfold, or the oversized sunglasses you finally bought), but you're definitely more confident in your body and presence than you were on that nerve-wracking first night. A rhythm has started to settle in between the two of you.

During the day, you apply for jobs or go on interviews when you’re lucky enough to land one. Jin, on the other hand, leaves early for his corporate job and returns in the evening, usually with takeout or groceries in hand. Most nights you eat dinner together while catching up on your respective days. Sometimes he streams games on Twitch, and on Thursdays or Fridays, your designated camming nights, you both prepare for your evening show.

It’s become a strange but comfortable little domestic situation.

And it’s within this new domestic life that you’ve started to learn more about Jin. Not just what he likes to eat or how he folds his laundry (like an obsessive neat freak), but the way he quietly observes you, the kind of music he listens to when he thinks you’re not around, and… specifically, his kink.

It all starts on a random Thursday night. You’re lounging on the couch, scrolling on your phone while Jin’s fully immersed in the latest season of Invincible. Everything is peaceful…until you remember your carrot cake.

The slice you were saving. The tiny indulgence you bought for yourself after surviving two brutal interviews earlier in the week. It was supposed to be waiting for you in the fridge. But when you go to get it, there’s only an empty container and Jin’s dumb little sticky note that says: Sorry! :)

“Are you serious!?” you shout from the kitchen.

“I thought you forgot about it!” Jin yells back, not even taking his eyes off the TV. “It was the smallest piece of cake!”

“That was MINE, Seokjin! It was in the back of the fridge, hidden behind your sad spinach banchan!”

You stomp back into the living room, and the next thing you know, you’re tackling him onto the couch in a whirlwind of fake rage and flailing limbs. He laughs as you straddle him and jokingly try to pin his arms down with all your strength.

But then, right in the middle of your amateur wrestling match, he says, a little too casually, “You know what! This is nice!I like things like this.”

You freeze. “Wait. Are you being serious?”

Jin blinks up at you, lips curled in amusement. “Yeah. Why? You into it too?”

You open your mouth, then shut it again. You’re not exactly sure how to answer that, but something about the way he said it—like it was the most natural thing in the world—does something to you. Flicks a switch you didn’t even know was there.

“You like... choking? BDSM-type stuff?”

“Mmhm.” He shrugs. “Topping, bottoming, control games… I'm open. I figured you’d caught on by now.”

“I…I would’ve never assumed this of my CHILDHOOD friend!”

You just stare at him for a moment, perched on his lap, trying to decide if he’s joking. But no, his expression is open and relaxed, and that little flutter in your stomach is not going away.

And it is Thursday night. Which means...

“...How do you feel about trying something tonight? On cam?”

Jin’s eyes brighten immediately. “You want to?”

“Maybe. It’s make great content from the vanilla stuff we’ve been sticking to. I could be in control this time.”

“You’re seriously a freak,” he says with a teasing grin.

“Hey! You’re one to talk, Mister ‘Nice, I like this’ mid-chokehold,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes as you climb off him.

The clock ticks past 12AM, and the city beyond the windows has gone still, blanketed in the hush of a weekday night. Jin signs off from his long Twitch stream with Kian84, their chaotic Getting Over It speedrun wrapping up after a cascade of laughter and Jin's usual exaggerated groaning at every misstep. “Thanks for watching, ya masochists!,” he grins into the webcam, and then the screen fades to black.

He exhales, stretching as he pushes back from the desk. “Okay,” he says with a sly glance at you from across the living room. “Time for the other show.”

The energy shifts.

You help him drag out the camming equipment—tripods, lighting, his DSLR, and the mic. Normally, you two shoot in his bedroom, but tonight, there's something new in the air. You suggested the living room earlier, citing the extra space. Jin agreed without hesitation, and now the whole room is undergoing a transformation. The couch is cleared and fluffed. Lighting is adjusted for that soft, glowy evening look. The rug is vacuumed, and the camera sits steady on the tripod, perfectly angled toward the plush gray cushions that will soon become the set.

“You okay?” he asks you, low and curious, as he adjusts the focus ring on the lens.

You nod, biting your bottom lip. “Just thinking.”

“You’re planning something, huh?”

“Oh, you’ll see.”

You disappear to your room, heart thudding as you peel off your lounge clothes and open your closet. From the very back, you pull out the outfit: a white collared button-up shirt, crisp and fitted, one you used to wear when you still had morning commutes and clients to present to. The top clings to your figure now, breasts practically spilling out of the top button you deliberately leave undone. A black blazer slides over your arms like muscle memory. You pair it with a black mini skirt, short enough to show off your thighs, the hem grazing just past the top of your stockings. Finally, the finishing touch: dark aviator sunglasses, glossy and oversized, giving you the kind of anonymity that still manages to scream control.

You catch yourself in the mirror. You don’t just look good—you look dangerous.

When you re-enter the living room, Jin’s crouched in front of the camera, checking the mic input, humming under his breath. The moment he turns and sees you, he lets out a low whistle, then immediately bursts into laughter.

“Oh my God. You look like a typical star of one of those low budget pornos.”

“Oh shut up,” you pout, adjusting your shades. “You're gonna regret saying that.”

He grins, standing to his full height and crossing his arms. “Am I? You look like you’re about to fire me and ruin my life.”

“That’s the point.”

“Did you actually wear that to work?!” he teases as he walks past you toward his bedroom to change. “Kinda hot, not gonna lie,”

“You wish you were my coworker,” you mutter under your breath, knowing he heard it.

Fifteen minutes later, he returns. The outfit he’s chosen mirrors yours, clearly putting in the same level of dramatic flair—he’s in a light blue button-up, loosely tucked into slacks, his hair slightly mussed in that infuriatingly effortless way, a dark blazer thrown over his shoulder. He raises an eyebrow at you. “Ready to destroy me?”

“Always.”

You take charge, directing him to the couch with a tone that makes even you pause—it’s smoother, sharper than your usual voice. Something about this character feels easy to slip into. You’re in control now.

“Sit,” you say simply.

He obeys.

“Blindfold,” you remind him, and he pulls the black silk fabric from the table, tying it over his eyes. The moment it’s on, he relaxes into the couch, letting out a long breath, as if already anticipating what’s to come.

You press record.

Then go live.

You clear your throat softly and speak first, your voice low and commanding.

“Good evening ladies and gentlement,” you begin, addressing the camera with your lips curled in a slow smirk. “It’s your Princess Peach here to start it off. Tonight, I have a very unproductive employee by the name of BigTunaMan who’s been skipping meetings and turning in sloppy work. You know what we do to those, right?”

Your tone is honeyed with sarcasm and heat, and already, the chat is lighting up. Jin shifts slightly on the couch, arms resting at his sides, but his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile.

You walk over and click your heels on the floor dramatically, each step a promise. You slide onto the couch beside him and trail your nails down his chest, slow and deliberate.

“I think a little discipline is in order.”

He makes a small sound in his throat, barely audible, but it sends a shiver down your spine. With the camera rolling, the lights warm and golden, and Jin blindfolded, the world has narrowed into this one intoxicating moment.

And for once, you’re not the nervous one.

You’re the one in charge.

You’re the one calling the shots.

And Jin?

He’s more than happy to submit to you.

Your hand drifts lower, fingertips gliding over the fine fabric of Jin’s slacks, watching the way his body reacts even under the blindfold. He can’t see you, but he feels everything—your presence, your breath near his jaw, the pressure of your palm teasing down his thigh.

“You’ve been slacking lately,” you murmur, letting your fingers graze the obvious bulge pressing against his pants. “So I’m going to remind you how to be obedient.”

Jin exhales sharply, chest rising with the effort to keep still. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak—just tilts his head slightly toward your voice.

You lean in, letting your lips brush against the shell of his ear. “Code word?” you whisper.

“Echo,” he replies immediately, voice low and already laced with heat.

You smile, fingers moving more deliberately now. You cup him through the fabric, the pressure making him shift slightly in his seat. His jaw clenches, the muscles ticking, and you feel his cock twitch under your palm, already hardening as you palm him through his slacks.

“Good boy,” you purr, loosening the belt and sliding down his zipper slowly, like unwrapping a gift you’ve been waiting for. You reach into his briefs, wrapping your hand around him, warm and already thick in your palm. His hips jerk just slightly.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“Impatient little pervert,” you scold gently, squeezing his cock just enough to make him groan. Your hand starts to move, slow and steady at first, working him up deliberately, thumb gliding over the head, gathering his arousal and spreading it down his shaft.

The chat is losing its mind. Comments flood in, heart emojis, praise, shocked exclamations at the sudden shift in dynamic. You barely register any of it. Your focus is all on Jin: on the way his mouth falls open slightly, the way his chest heaves when your hand twists and pumps in a firmer rhythm, your pace building.

His body is a live wire under your touch.

“You like being used, don’t you?” you murmur, watching the way his thighs tense beneath you.

“Yes,” he breathes. “Fuck—I mean, yes, Miss.”

You chuckle, leaning back just enough to give the camera a better view of your hand working him, the wet sounds obscenely loud in the quiet living room, the only light a white haze casting you both in a soft, intimate glow for the camera.

You press your legs together, your own arousal thrumming, but tonight isn’t about you this time.

It’s about him. 

Making him come completely undone for you. For your power. For the version of you he’s never seen before now: confident, in charge, teasing with just enough cruelty to make him squirm.

You speed up slightly, the rhythm just on the edge of cruel, your thumb teasing that sensitive spot beneath the head. He’s gasping now, lips parted, barely able to speak.

“Please—”

“Please what?”

“Please let me come…”

You smile. “Not yet.”

And you slow down, just enough to make him whimper.

You let his cock slip from your hand with a slow squeeze, and he lets out a helpless whimper, hips twitching upward like he's already aching for more.

“Getting all desperate on me already?” you murmur, standing only long enough to slip off your blazer and sink slowly to your knees between his spread legs.

He can’t see you, but he knows. You can tell by the way his breath catches, the way his hands fist at his sides, resisting the urge to touch you—he knows the rules.

You ghost your lips along the inside of his thigh, just barely grazing, soft and teasing. “Keep your hands where they are,” you command, and he nods quickly.

“Yes, Miss.”

You smirk to yourself, then take your time. Your tongue trails up the length of his cock, just one slow stroke, gathering the taste of his arousal on your tongue before you wrap your lips around the head. He groans deep and shaky.

You suck him in slowly, wet and warm, letting him slide deeper into your mouth as your hand works the base. The slurping sounds echo in the room, lewd and messy, just how you know he likes it. His thighs tense on either side of you, trying to stay still, his fingers curling into the cushions as he fights to behave.

You moan around him, eyes locked on his face. His head tilts back, lips parted as if in prayer, and that blindfold just makes everything more erotic—he’s at your mercy.

You suck harder now, bobbing your head, tongue swirling, spit dripping as you take him deeper. You make it wet, obscene, the perfect combination of control and indulgence. He’s groaning your camgirl stage name now, desperate, undone.

“Please, please, Princess—fuck, you’re too good at this, I’m gonna—”

You pull off with a loud pop, spit stringing from your lips to his cock as you stroke him a few more times.

“Not yet,” you say again, standing slowly. “I said you don’t get to come until I say so.”

He’s panting now, fully at your mercy, desperate and flushed.

You lift one leg and straddle him, lifting your skirt to show the lacy black panties already soaked through. “I’ve been wet for you since this stupid idea you had earlier,” you say, voice low and dangerous. “And now you’re going to be useful and fuck me like I deserve.”

He shudders beneath you. “Yes. Please, yes—” The usual next step to this would be a condom, however you gone back to using birth control just for the sake of being able to experiment and do more fun stuff with Seokjin for these cam sessions. A shout out to him for buying you birth control in this economy.

Thus, you line yourself up and sink down onto him slowly, gasping as he stretches you open inch by inch. You grip his shoulders to keep steady, watching the way his head tips back, lips parted in a silent groan. The blindfold stays on (for obvious privacy reasons), but he also doesn’t need to see you to feel just how deep you take him, how tight you clench around him.

You ride him slowly at first, letting him feel every shift of your hips, every squeeze of your walls around him. His hands stay obediently at his sides, trembling from restraint. Your fingers dig into his chest, your lips brushing his jaw.

“Code word?” you whisper, even though you can feel he’s hanging on by a thread.

“Echo…Fucking echo.”

You start to bounce on him faster, harder, taking everything he gives you and more. His name spills from your lips in breathy moans, and he’s groaning right back, desperate, praising, begging all at once.

And then, you pause for just a breathless second, your hand sliding up his chest and curling gently around his throat. You hover there, locked onto his bodily reactions.

“I want to try it,” you whisper. “Can you guide me?”

There's a sharp inhale. His hands tightening around your hips instinctively as he nods, slow but firm. “Yeah. I’ll tell you when. Just… eyes on me, okay?”

You nod, throat dry but heart racing. You resume your rhythm, rolling your hips and grinding down on him deeper this time. He’s already close. You can feel it in the way his grip falters, his voice rising.

“Now,” he rasps. “Just a little.”

You apply pressure—tentatively at first, until he groans in approval. His head tips back, his mouth slack, lashes fluttering like he’s sinking into something he’s craved too long. It’s intoxicating, the way his body responds to you… but it's his voice that keeps you grounded. The way he whispers praise through every gasp, every twitch of his hips under yours. “That’s it… fuck, baby. Just like that.”

There’s a shift—an unmistakable shift. His voice takes on a different tone. Still needy, still submissive, but laced now with authority, with control, as he murmurs exactly how much pressure, exactly when to let go. His power doesn’t challenge yours—it folds into it, guides it. And you follow. Willingly. Entranced.

You press a little harder, feeling his pulse thrum beneath your fingers, his mouth falling open in a moan that hits you right in the gut.

“I’m—please—I need to—” he gasps, and you let go just in time, letting him breathe again, watching him unravel completely beneath you.

“Then beg.”

“Please let me come inside you, please—I’ve been so good, you’re so perfect—fuck, I need you—”

You slam your hips down harder, grinding, your hands tangled in his hair now as your bodies meet in frenzied rhythm. His control shatters completely when you press your lips to his and whisper, “Come for me, baby.”

And he does.

With a low, broken groan, he thrusts up into you, pulsing deep inside as your own climax follows, walls fluttering around him while you moan against his mouth, soaking him as he fills you. Your fingers grip his jaw, keeping him grounded as you both ride out the high, body to body, messy and panting.

You stay on top of him, his cock still buried inside you, breathless and flushed. He’s dazed, the blindfold still on, and you kiss his forehead softly before reaching up to remove it.

His eyes blink open slowly, glassy and adoring.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers, grinning up at you like you just changed his life.

“See?” you smirk, leaning in to kiss him. “Told you you’d regret teasing me about the outfit.”

Two hours later, the camera light finally blinks off.

The room is dim now, save for the warm golden glow from the lamp in the corner. You and Jin are a flushed, disheveled mess. Clothes half-on, makeup smudged, hair wild. A sheen of sweat glistens on both your bodies, and your inner thighs still tremble faintly from all the exertion.

He flops back against the couch with a groan, eyes shut as he tries to catch his breath. “That was… that was insane.”

You toss a throw blanket over both your laps and lean against his shoulder, just as blissed out. “Good insane?”

“Good?” he laughs, turning to look at you, eyes wide and still dazed. “You… how the fuck did you learn all of that?”

You grin, a little smug but mostly shy. “I… well. I’ve read my fair share of erotica.”

He stares at you for a beat, and then lets out a wheezy laugh. “Okay, no, because you didn’t just read erotica. That was like—years of field research packed into one night.”

You giggle, hiding your face in your hands. “Shut up! I didn’t want to half-ass it, especially since I knew you were into that stuff. I figured… if I was going to dominate you, I wanted to do it right. So i prayed all the shit I’ve read would come back to me in that moment.”

Jin’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, and he exhales, still not fully recovered. “You didn’t just do it right. You wrecked me. I mean, I think you broke time. I blacked out somewhere around the tie-and-denial part.”

You smirk and nudge his leg with your knee. “Told you not to tease me about the outfit.”

He lifts his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You win. You’re terrifying. Beautiful and terrifying.”

You rest your head on his shoulder again, quieter now, as the adrenaline starts to settle into something softer. Jin lets his hand slide over yours, squeezing gently.

“You really enjoyed it?” you ask, voice lower, more vulnerable this time.

He turns to you again, this time more serious. “More than anything. Not just the kink stuff, but you. Being with you like this. Doing this together. I didn’t think I’d ever get close to you like this.”

Your heart flutters.

“Same,” you admit. “It’s something I never thought, let alone reunite with you.”

He looks at your eyes, rather lovingly, but you convince yourself he’s just completely blissed out. “Let’s get some sleep, Seokjin.”

It is insane how close you and Seokjin start becoming after this. Living with him felt like walking on eggshells at first—between the awkwardness of your past and the very unique way your current relationship started—but over time, it’s become shockingly natural. Domestic, even. You’ve slipped into his world like you were always meant to be there.

You’re in the kitchen, rinsing out a few dishes from lunch and humming to yourself when you hear Jin’s voice rise from the living room. He’s in the middle of filming some chaotic “Lose and You Win!” Mario Party content, screaming into the mic with Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung, all streamer friends that Jin frequently collabs with when he’s playing PUBG, Valorant, or Apex Legends.  The guys are laughing, cursing, and accusing each other of cheating. You glance up once in a while, smiling at the banter. It's hard to believe that this—this apartment, this man, this life—is where you ended up. And you’re not mad about it.

Around 8 p.m., you hear the game’s final jingle play and the stream go offline. The guys groan and stretch, the energy in the room softening now that they’re off-camera. You hear Taehyung pipe up, “Alright, wings? I’m craving pain-level buffalo.”

Jungkook adds, “Buffalo Wild Wings, let’s goooo.”

Jimin chimes in, nudging Jin from the side. “Come on, hyung. We haven’t hung out in person in weeks. Let’s grab dinner.”

Jin laughs but waves them off. “Can’t. I’ve got other plans tonight.”

The guys groan and boo dramatically.

Then suddenly, their eyes shift to you. Jimin leans over the couch to grin at you. “What about you, noona? You down to come with us? We’ll treat you! Wings, drinks, or anything else you want to do?”

“Noona—?” you laugh, setting down a cup. You’re not a noona, to these men, surely. But you’ll go with it. Getting out of the house with a group of charismatic, chaotic men sounds like a fun distraction. You open your mouth to say sure, already drying your hands—

But Jin cuts in smoothly from the couch without even looking at you. “She’s coming with me.”

The room goes quiet for half a second. You blink.

Taehyung raises a brow. “Oh?”

You look at Jin, arms crossed, voice flat. “I am?”

Jin finally looks at you now and smiles—not smug exactly, but knowing. “Yup. She is.”

And just like that, ten minutes later, you’re sliding into the passenger seat of his car.

You glance at him sideways as he drives. “You know, you didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go with you.”

He shrugs, smirking. “I didn’t want to lose you to fried chicken and beer. Besides…” He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “We’re going somewhere better.”

And that’s how you end up at Quarters KBBQ, a small, lowkey spot tucked in a quiet corner of K-Town. No frills, no signs. The kind of place only locals know about. Inside, it’s dimly lit, the air rich with the smell of grilled meat and soju. Jin nods to the ahjumma behind the counter, who recognizes him immediately and leads you both to a corner table where you find 3 other men. You weren’t expecting a full table when you walk in, but there they are. Namjoon already seated with Yoongi, nursing what looks like a soju bottle. And beside him, someone you haven’t met before. His smile is warm as the grills before him, and he immediately waves when he sees you two approach. “Happy birthday, Namjoon!” Jin says loudly and proudly as he approaches the table and gives the birthday boy a hug. “Hyung!” The man unknown to you calls out to Jin, his face brightening. His eyes shift to you beside him, and curiosity flickers in his expression. “You came–Ohhh, wait is she the mystery roommate-slash-partner-in-crime. Y/N?”

You raise a brow, amused. “Hello! Uh, mystery?” “Y/N, that’s Hoseok.”

Hoseok grins and offers a warm handshake. “Hi! Jin always talks about you in fragments—‘my roommate made this,’ ‘she said that,’ but never a full picture. I was starting to think you were part of his delulu storyline.”

You laugh, instantly liking him. “Sounds like Jin.”

Jin only shrugs, clearly unbothered as he guides you into the booth. Namjoon gives you a little wave and a fond, “Hey stranger, long time,” while Yoongi smirks and says, “Finally meeting you in person after too damn long.”

“Right, Jin’s been the one passing over my hellos to you like a game of telephone,” you reply, slipping into the seat beside Jin as he reaches for the soju bottle.

He pours you a glass first, then his own. “You weren’t missing out much,” he says, lips twitching. “Trust me.”

"Well anyways, welcome to the table,” Hoseok says, lifting his glass. “You’re stuck with us now.”

The table is already cluttered with side dishes, sauces, and raw meat sizzling over the grill. Jin clinks his glass to yours.

The sizzling sound of pork belly crackles on the grill as Yoongi expertly flips the pieces, tongs in one hand, drink in the other. Hoseok leans back in his seat, stretching his arms with a content sigh while Namjoon starts a debate about whether pineapple belongs on pizza.

It’s easy to get swept into the rhythm—teasing, laughing, the casual way the guys lean into each other’s space like brothers who’ve known each other for years. But at some point, Jin goes quiet beside you.

You glance at him. “You okay?”

He nods, then clears his throat. “Just thinking. I haven’t brought anyone to a hang like this in a long time.”

The others catch that, and Namjoon smiles around the rim of his glass. “Yeah, that’s actually wild. You’re usually honja solo, hyung.”

Yoongi smirks. “Last time he brought someone was like... what? Two birthday dinners ago? And it was his older brother.”

“And W–” Hoseok is about to say until Yoongi and Jin elbow him, “Ow!!”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

You look at him, slightly teasing. “So this is a big deal?”

He looks at you steadily, his voice a little softer than before. “I guess it is. Feels different this time.”

Your chest warms a little at that.

Namjoon watches the two of you, then leans in toward you. “It’s been cool watching you settle into his place, by the way. Jin told us you've still been focused on job hunting and interviewing. That shit’s not easy.”

You blink, surprised. “He told you about that?”

“He did,” Yoongi says, passing you a lettuce wrap. “And for what it’s worth, you’ve got guts. Not everyone would handle it the way you’re handling it after a relationship fall out and job layoff.”

There’s a moment of quiet pride that hums through you. You didn’t realize Jin had even mentioned those parts of your life to his friends. It feels a little awkward, but more so makes you feel seen.

Hoseok nudges Jin with his elbow. “Hyung’s been different lately too. A little more… grounded.”

“Grounded?” Jin scoffs. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re not acting like a feral bichon 24/7,” Hoseok says with a grin.

Namjoon laughs. “He means you’re… softer. In a good way.”

You glance at Jin just as he glances at you.

And for a second, the noise of the table fades.

You don’t say anything. Neither does he. But the look says enough: I see you. I’ve got you.

And just like that, the table bursts into laughter again—Yoongi making a dry joke about Jin’s “new personality” like a bug patch in a game. Namjoon pretending to take notes like a therapist, Hoseok mimicking Jin’s dramatic voice.

And you? You just smile, lean closer to the boy who’s slowly, surely becoming your safe place, and take another sip of soju. After hanging out with his friends once, you ask Jin if you could tag along again to see them again for another hang out, which he happily agrees to. 

It’s been four months since you started camming with Jin, and the erotic streams have only gotten more creative, more intimate. What started as an experiment—something daring and purely transactional—has shifted into something strange and deeply emotional, quietly addictive. You both know how easily you’ve slipped into this lifestyle. And how naturally you’ve slipped into each other.

This afternoon, though, feels like a pause. A thunderstorm has rolled over, drowning the city in a wash of gray. Everything is wet, fogged, and slow. Jin had planned to work today, but after a tense few weeks with his team’s latest gaming project, he called in and stayed home instead. Burnt out, he said. Fried.

You didn’t argue. You weren’t in the mood either—not with the string of job application rejections piling up in your inbox. At this point, the cover letters all blur together. You hadn’t even gotten a callback in weeks.

So, wrapped up in shared blankets and layers of lazy comfort, the two of you spend the afternoon on the couch. Jin's sitting at the far end, curled around his Switch, locked into Fire Emblem. You’re in the opposite corner with your knees tucked up, reading a tattered paperback, something vaguely romantic and atmospheric. It's peaceful. Quiet. The kind of silence that only happens between people completely comfortable with each other. It took a lot to get here.

“Hey,” Jin says eventually, not looking away from his game. “Can you read it to me?”

You glance over, a brow raised. “You want me to read this out loud?”

He shrugs. “I just… like your voice. Makes it easier to relax.”

You smile faintly. “Since when are you shy about asking for that?”

“I’m not,” he says, grinning. “I’m being polite. Now read.”

You start. At first, it’s casual—your voice soft as the storm continues outside. Jin eventually puts the Switch down entirely, arms behind his head, eyes closed. Just listening.

Then he interrupts.

“You know,” he murmurs, “this could be a good ASMR unlockable. For the long-term subs. Just you. Reading. Whispering. Maybe some light teasing…”

You snort. “You’re so unserious.”

“I’m extremely serious,” he says, sitting up a little. “Think about it. Soft voice. Close mic. Add in a little roleplay… Touch. Whispered praise. Maybe I whimper a little.”

You stare at him. “You’re not even pretending you’re not into it, you pervert!”

“I stopped pretending around month one,” he shoots back easily. “Come here. Let’s try it.”

You hesitate, but the way he says it, low, teasing, like an invitation and a dare all at once, makes your skin tingle. You shift toward him, and he helps guide you into his lap. Your thighs straddle his, and your chest presses lightly against his hoodie. He’s warm beneath you, looking up with curious eyes and parted lips.

“Just whisper,” he says. “Let’s see how it feels.”

So you do. You lean in close to his ear and speak softly, slowly.

“You’re doing so well,” you murmur. “So obedient today. You want me to praise you more, don’t you?”

Jin exhales sharply. His hands grip your thighs, pulling you tighter against him. You’re still fully clothed, but the friction is unmistakable. Deliberate. He rocks his hips gently, testing, and you feel the rush of it right through you.

You keep going, praise melting into teasing, your breath hot against his neck. His hands slide up your back, then under your t-shirt, skimming your waist. When they reach your chest, he pauses, eyes flicking up to you.

You nod once. Barely.

And then his thumbs begin to circle, slow and unhurried, coaxing soft sighs out of you. You’re grinding into each other now, layers of fabric doing nothing to dull the want building between your legs. Your fingers grip his shoulders, your lips brush his jaw between whispers. Every word is another spark, every movement edging closer to something you both desperately want—but don’t quite reach.

It stays there. Right on the edge.

Until you both pull back, chests heaving, laughing breathlessly against each other’s skin.

“Jesus,” Jin mumbles, burying his face in your neck. “We can’t be doing this without a game plan.”

“You started it,” you whisper back, brushing his hair with your fingers.

“I didn’t think we’d get that close to—” he pauses, then laughs again. “Holy shit.”

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. “We almost did it. On your streaming mic.”

“I mean…” He pulls back and looks at you seriously. “If we did start pushing the boundaries a bit… would you be okay with that?”

You hesitate, then smile. A little crooked. A little dangerous.

“Maybe… but definitely there’s more to that though,”

And the rain keeps falling outside, steady and soft, while your hearts thrum with something new. Something thrilling. Because you both know you're already on the edge of something bigger. Something you're not ready to name yet, but neither of you is trying to stop.

Six months pass since you first agreed to help Jin with his hobby. Six months since you stepped into his world of late-night cam streams, where the two of you put on a show for an audience that grows larger every week. Six months since you decided to throw caution to the wind and join him in front of the camera, not because you needed the money, but because you couldn’t resist the challenge. Because it was Jin—your childhood rival, your now-roommate, the man who somehow always manages to pull you into his orbit, whether you like it or not.

And it’s been nearly six months since you moved into his apartment, a decision born out of necessity after losing your job. Back then, you told yourself it would be temporary. Just until you got back on your feet. But here you are, half a year later, still sharing a space with him, still waking up to the smell of his amazing cooking, still laughing at his terrible dad jokes that he insists are comedy gold. 

Still pretending that the way he casually brushes past you in the kitchen or leans over your shoulder to peek at your laptop screen doesn’t send a jolt of electricity through you.

You’ve become… comfortable. Too comfortable, maybe. 

The kind of comfort that blurs lines and makes you forget where the act ends and reality begins. 

Outside of the camera’s gaze, the two of you have settled into a rhythm that feels almost domestic. Jin walks around the apartment in nothing but sweatpants, his hair a mess, and you don’t even blink anymore. You’ve caught him staring at you more than once, his gaze lingering a little too long, but neither of you say anything. It’s easier to pretend it doesn’t mean anything, to chalk it up to the strange intimacy of living together and the even stranger intimacy of what you do together on camera.

But sometimes, when he’s sitting too close on the couch, his thigh pressed against yours as you both scroll through your phones, or when he playfully tugs at your sleeve to get your attention, you wonder if it’s all just in your head. 

If you’re reading too much into the way he looks at you, the way he touches you—casual, effortless, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You haven’t talked about it.  Not once. Not about the way your hands linger when you pass each other things, not about the way he sometimes rests his chin on your shoulder while you’re cooking, not about the way your heart races when he flashes you that stupidly handsome grin of his. It’s like there’s an unspoken agreement between you: Don’t ruin this. Don’t make it weird. In the meantime, life goes on. You’ve been applying for jobs, sending out resumes, going to interviews. Some of them have gone well—really well, even—but nothing’s panned out yet. Jin keeps telling you not to stress, that something will come along eventually, but you can’t help feeling the pressure. You don’t want to overstay your welcome, even though Jin insists you’re not. “You’re not a guest,” he said once, when you brought it up. “You live here. This is your home too.”

His words stuck with you, more than you’d like to admit. Because the truth is, it does feel like home. More than any place has in a long time. And maybe that’s the scariest part of all.

Tonight, like most nights, you’re sitting on the couch with Jin, the TV playing some random drama neither of you is really paying attention to. He’s sprawled out, his head resting on the armrest, his feet nudging your thigh. You’re half-heartedly scrolling through job listings on Linkedin on your laptop, but your mind keeps wandering. Jin’s been quiet for a while, which is unusual for him.

You glance over and find him watching you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

"Uh, what about me?"

"How stressed you look applying to these jobs?"

You close your laptop and set it aside, turning your body slightly to face him. “Well, yeah. Kind of comes with this whole process of unemployment, doesn’t it? I’m trying to not be jobless forever, you know.”

Jin sits up slightly, propping himself on one elbow. His messy hair falls into his eyes, and he brushes it back with a hand, looking far too attractive for someone who hasn’t left the apartment all day. “You’re not going to be unemployed forever,” he says firmly, his tone soft but resolute. “You’re good at what you do. The right job’s gonna come along, you’ll see.” You roll your eyes, leaning back against the couch. “You say that like it’s easy. Like I just need to snap my fingers, and poof, dream job.”

“It’s not about snapping your fingers,” he counters, his lips quirking into that signature smirk of his—the one that always makes your stomach do an unwelcome flip. “It’s about realizing you’re a catch. Any company would be lucky to have you.”

His words hit you harder than they should. Maybe it’s the sincerity in his voice or the way his gaze lingers on you just a moment too long, like he’s daring you to believe him. You swallow, suddenly feeling too seen, too exposed.

“Well,” you say, forcing a casual shrug, “if all else fails, at least I have my… side gig.”

At that, Jin’s smirk widens into a full grin, and he sits up completely, crossing his legs beneath him. “Side gig? Princess, what we’re doing is more than just a gig. We’re providing art.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “Art? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Absolutely,” he says with mock seriousness, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “I’ve got the lighting, the angles, the choreography—it’s practically cinema. And you—well, you’re the star. The muse. My creative partner.”

“Okay, now you’re pushing it,” you tease, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Jin has a way of making you laugh, even when you don’t want to. It’s infuriating and endearing all at once.

He leans closer, resting his elbow on the back of the couch and his chin in his hand, studying you. “But seriously,” he says, his tone dropping back to that rare sincerity, “you’re doing great. Not just with the streams, but... everything. You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still here, still pushing forward. I’m proud of you.”

The words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. Your throat tightens, and you quickly look away, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Thanks,” you mumble, barely above a whisper.

Jin doesn’t push you to say more, and you’re grateful for that. The silence that settles between you is surprisingly comfortable, his presence grounding in a way you didn’t realize you needed.

But, of course, Jin can’t let the moment stay too serious for long.

“So,” he says, his smirk returning, “about tonight’s stream…”

You groan, throwing your head back against the couch. “God, do you ever take a break?” “Not when I’ve got content to plan,” he says, winking at you. “I was thinking we could try something new. Maybe a little bdsm roleplay? Or–oh, I know—a themed night! Like anime cosplaying.”

“Cosplaying?” you echo, narrowing your eyes at him. “What kind of cosplaying?”

He shrugs, feigning innocence. “I don’t know. Something fun. Something the fans would love. You could be Sailor Moon, or a Nami from One Piece, or—”

“Stop right there,” you interrupt, holding up a hand. “I am not dressing up as some cliché sexy anime character.”

“Fine, fine,” he says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But you can’t deny it’d be hot.”

You roll your eyes, though you can feel your cheeks heating up. “You’re impossible, Seokjin, you know that?”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he points out, flashing you that devastating grin. “So what does that say about you?”

It says more than you’re willing to admit, even to yourself. But instead of answering, you reach for your laptop, opening it back up and pretending to focus on the screen. Jin watches you for a moment longer, then leans back with a satisfied hum, stretching out on the couch like a cat.

You don’t know how long you can keep walking this line with him. This strange, delicate balance between friendship and… whatever this is. But for now, you’ll let it be. You’ll let yourself enjoy the banter, the laughter, the way he makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re not so lost after all. - -

a/n: again SO SORRY that updating this fic took some time. I appreciate everyone who waited and is still sticking around until the very end!! I've extended this fic to 7 total chapters for the sake of fleshing things out as much as I could while keeping this fic short, so you have a lot to look forward too heheheheheheheh

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made

[brynnterpretations]

Where Damage Isn’t Already Done

Victoria Neuman x Wife!Reader

The worst thing about it is the coffee.

⌗ fluff ⌗ fix-it ⌗ short-fic ⌗ title from "where damage isn't already done" by the radio dept.

Contains spoilers for The Boys, Season 4, Episode 8. Please do not click read more unless you have watched it.

You and Vic had talked about what your dream home with each other would be even when you first started dating. It was therapeutic, you supposed; considering you met each other at a Vought gala, you knew that you wouldn’t be very normal, nor would your relationship. Even if you somehow got everything you wanted — Vic as President, you practicing law, conflict of interest only in the bedroom — there was no such thing as retiring. Or relaxing, really. So, you talked about it. Vic wanted a beautiful home in Big Sur, overlooking the ocean, with an easy route down for Zoe to play, or maybe a Roman villa in the heart of the Spanish countryside, surrounded by sheep and farm animals — you’d be the ones taking care of them, though, Vic did not do farm animals. Certainly, it wasn’t this.

“Where is this, even?” asked Zoe. Honestly, neither you nor Vic really knew outside of being somewhere in the southwest, where even the bison looked miserable. You took another glance at your new ID on the table, your fake name and fake smile staring back at you. Despite you three being on strict orders from the CIA and the entirety of the Boys coup to never leave the house — thank God they’d given you basic living essentials — they’d still given you IDs just in case.

You sat down at the table. Victoria flipped through Zoe’s homework assignment, taken from a homeschooling book Hughie was kind enough to give to you all considering you weren’t permitted to use Internet, before passing it to you. You snorted quietly once you took a glance; it was English, a weak spot for Vic, considering her aversion to anything impractical. You doubted she wanted to hear anymore about Moby Dick than she’d probably already heard years ago. “Well, the thing they stressed was where we’re not.” 

Zoe made a sour face, but when Victoria pressed a kiss to her forehead, it dissolved. She passed you a cup of coffee and sat at the table. “How’s the book?”

“Fine,” shrugged Zoe. “It’s easy.”

Looking over Zoe’s essay, you could tell she’s telling the truth. “This is great, Zoe.”

“Thanks,” smiled Zoe. She ate her Cheerios with a bit more enthusiasm. You all were still getting used to not having fresh-cooked food. You took a look at the coffee. Truthfully, you and Vic had become huge coffee snobs after you came across the term “third-wave coffee” on Twitter, and as you looked into its inky depths, you tried to forget about Café Integral and Third Rail. Do not think of a rosemary espresso tonic right now. Do not think of a rosemary espresso tonic right now. 

“Oh, Jesus,” she said suddenly, spitting out her coffee. “I don’t think there’s even any coffee in this.” 

You looked over at Victoria, who was dressed in an argyle sweater, slacks, and fuzzy socks that you’d gifted her for Christmas, even though neither of you celebrated. It wasn’t often you didn’t see her in her power gear or without makeup, and she looked younger. Better. It would be stupid to think that it made her look carefree — you all were boiling with tension, terrified of laser beams blasting through the creaky, deteriorating front door — but it certainly made it feel different. As if, after you and Vic had bled and fought only to end up where you started again in New York City, you were finally somewhere that would bring different results.

“I’ll get you some water,” you said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Maybe you weren't in a vista house or beside beautiful oceans or even in a place that had good coffee, but as Zoe and Vic began bickering over Moby Dick, you couldn't imagine why that would ever matter.

[shadowtriovibes]

can you write one where f!MC is being pursued by an annoying guy she doesn’t like who won’t take no for an answer. it annoys sebastian just as much as it annoys her, so next time it happens he pretends to be her boyfriend and suggests they start fake dating for good measure. eventually they make it for real.

thank you! i love the fake relationship trope sooo much and i’ve yet to see anyone write one with sebastian.

of course, lovely anon!! i haven't seen any fake relationship fic either so i'm happy to contribute a lil something! tbh i sincerely thought this would be a short ficlet but it ended up being just over 2.5k fluffy words of dummies in love 🤩

Title: rumor has it

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Eric Northcott is relentlessly pursuing you, so Sebastian offers to act as your heroic boyfriend to get him off your back.

"Northcott," Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. "Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?" "Your girlfriend?" Eric asks skeptically. "That's new." "I suppose it is," Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. "Been a long time coming, though." Across the room, Ominis laughs under his breath.

Sebastian Sallow is an excellent young wizard. Clever, well-read, focused – by all accounts, he should be a brilliant strategist.

But sometimes he comes up with the worst ideas you’ve ever heard.

“You musn’t be serious, Sebastian,” you laugh, closing your potions textbook to appreciate the actual madness of what he’d just suggested.

“Why not?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes as you tell him, “You can’t just pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Earlier that afternoon, the two of you had met up with Ominis in the Undercroft to study after staging a quick exit from the library. While Sebastian was hunting down a book on ancient runes, Eric Northcott had cornered you in the stacks and tried for the second time to convince you to have a Butterbeer with him at the Three Broomsticks instead of “hiding that gorgeous face behind those dusty books like you always do.”

When Sebastian had returned, you were shoving the Gryffindor boy away from you with a tense look on your face, and if he hadn’t just finished a stint of evening detentions for slipping a Puffskein into Duncan Hobhouse’s schoolbag, he would have hexed the amorous git himself.

Since then, he’d been suggesting ways to make him pay, with each idea more fantastical than the last.

“Sure I can, and we can even make a real show of it,” he says with a charming grin. “If you want to get Northcott off your back for good, let’s allow him to think your handsome, roguish boyfriend is the type who would challenge him to a duel if he tries anything untoward.”

“That is a terrible plan,” you deadpan.

“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Ominis chimes in.

You glare at him, because Ominis never thinks that Sebastian’s ideas are any good – even the ones that aren’t completely bonkers.

“What are you playing at, Gaunt?” you accuse him.

“I’m merely suggesting that Northcott may actually accept your contempt for him if it’s for a reason that allows him to save face,” he explains with a secretive smile. “Simply telling him that you’re not interested hasn’t seemed to work thus far, so why not be creative?”

“Creative?” you snort. “Wouldn’t ‘creative’ be blasting him myself the next time he lays a hand on me?”

“As if you need any worse of a reputation,” Ominis drawls, and he has a point.

“Come on, let’s really mess with him,” Sebastian pleads. “You know he deserves to be taken down a peg or two.”

You’re not surprised that Sebastian is able to get you on board so quickly. Truthfully, you think you’d follow him on his harebrained schemes just about anywhere.

“Fine,” you cautiously agree. “But just to scare him off, alright?”

You swear you can see the gears in Sebastian’s head start to turn immediately.

He kicks off his brilliant plan the next day during your N.E.W.T.-level potions class. You’re supposed to be brewing an antidote to Veritaserum, and while the draught itself isn’t necessarily difficult, some of the ingredients are a little tricky to prepare.

You’re focused on trying to carefully slit open some Sopophorous beans when you felt a presence behind you, and then Eric Northcott is draping his arm across your shoulders.

“Need a hand with those?” he offers, trying to sound congenial.

“I’m fine, Eric,” you insist.

“I’m really quite good at potions, you know,” he reminds you, grabbing one of the paring knives off the table and haphazardly slicing one of the beans you’d laid out. “I’d be happy to give you some hands-on lessons if you’d like, one-on-one of course.”

“Sebastian,” Ominis hisses from across the room, having picked up on the conversation while the other boy poured over his notes on wormwood. “Now might be a good time to offer some gentlemanly assistance.”

His eyes narrow when he spots Northcott leaning over your cauldron, clearly trying to sneak a look down your top.

“Don’t let my antidote burn,” Sebastian mumbles as he storms across the room, as if Ominis would ever spare a thought for Sebastian’s cauldron when the show is about to begin.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch him notice your predicament, silently pleading him with your eyes to do something to get you out of it.

“Northcott,” Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. “Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?”

“Your girlfriend?” Eric asks skeptically. “That’s new.”

“I suppose it is,” Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. “Been a long time coming, though.”

Across the room, Ominous laughs under his breath.

“Really?” Eric asks dubiously, briefly glancing at your expression. “I was under the impression that the two of you were just ‘best friends.’”

“Well, shouldn’t a good relationship start out as a friendship?” you counter, though you don’t sound entirely convincing.

“Right,” he says slowly.

“Mate, you know how tough she is,” Sebastian says with a charming grin. “Took me ages to convince her to give me a chance, she strung me right along for months.”

You jump slightly when Sebastian slides his hand across your back to your waist, tugging you closer to his side – and out from under Eric’s arm.

“But she finally took pity on me,” he says with a lovelorn sigh, and you narrow your eyes at his dramatics.

“Oh, Sebastian,” you reply, laughing nervously. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love with you,” he says, quickly leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

Before you can react, Professor Sharp wanders by and instructs you all to stop your dallying and focus on your draughts. Eric spares one more skeptical look at the two of you before returning to his cauldron.

Sebastian’s hand on your waist lingers for a moment even after he’s gone, but then he lets it fall.

“Sorry about that,” he says under his breath. “Had to sell it, you’re really a bad liar, you know.”

You think Sebastian doesn’t know the half of it.

(Sebastian’s just glad you avoided his gaze long enough to miss his deep red blush.)

—

As it turns out, the kiss wasn’t enough to convince Northcott that you were properly off the market.

The rumor mill quickly focuses on you and Sebastian – specifically whether or not it’s true that your platonic friendship has become something more.

“I don’t really believe it,” Nerida claims whenever the subject comes up. “Sebastian has always seemed like the bachelor type.”

“He could have had a girlfriend all this time and never has,” Violet agrees, trying to hide her bitterness. “I don’t think he really wants to be in a relationship.”

“Are you joking?” Imelda scoffs. “Sallow’s been a lovesick puppy over that girl for years, I’m just glad she finally came around.”

“She is very protective of him,” Grace speculates. “I remember when Samantha Dale asked him out last fall, I thought she was going to Depulso the poor girl clear across the courtyard!”

You do your best to ignore it, but Ominis stubbornly insists on telling you everything he’s heard.

“I would have thought that the two of you would be better at pulling off a ruse as simple as this,” he says, disappointment dripping from his words. “How hard can it be to pretend to like Sebastian? I don’t have to see him to know that the whole school thinks he’s handsome.”

“You don’t understand,” you sigh, walking alongside him on the way to arithmancy. “It’s… I don’t have to pretend, if you know what I mean.”

“Come now,” he says quietly. “I’m blind, not dim.”

“Then you do understand!” you whine. “How am I supposed to just let him pretend to be my boyfriend to ward off Eric and not go mad from knowing that it’s all a lie?”

“I suppose me telling you to be honest with him about how you feel would go in one ear and right out the other,” Ominis suggests, smirking to himself when you curse at him under your breath.

“Buck up, then,” he says simply. “I’m sure this whole thing will blow up in some spectacular way sooner than later – it is Sebastian, after all.”

—

As per usual, Ominis is correct.

Not even a full day goes by before Sebastian corners you outside the Hufflepuff common room and asks to walk you to dinner, taking your hand in his as soon as he notices some fifth-years studiously watching the two of you as you make your way to the Great Hall.

“I missed you this afternoon,” he tells you as he walks you upstairs, putting on a good show. “How come you didn’t want to study with Ominis and me after class?”

“I just needed to lie down for a little while,” you tell him, not wanting to admit to avoiding the way he’s been so unbearably charming lately.

“Feeling alright?” he asks concernedly.

“Yes,” you tell him. “Just… I don’t know. Out of sorts, I guess.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks.

You get distracted by the feeling of him stroking his thumb along your wristbone reassuringly.

“Um… n-no, I don’t think so,” you stutter.

“Surely there’s something I can do to help,” he says, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way his eyes look a little darker than usual, as if his pupils have entirely taken over.

“Like what?” you breathe.

Then he gets that look on his face that he always gets when he’s about to do something stupid.

“Come with me,” he says, tugging you over to a spot along the wall in the reception hall, next to one of those empty cabinets you’d looted for Nellie Oggspire back in your fifth year.

“Sebastian, w-what–” you stammer.

He presses you against the wall, one hand pressed to your waist and the other flat against the stone behind you, boxing you in. He glances around again and clearly spots whatever it was he was looking for, grinning mischievously before he leans in and traces his nose across your cheek.

“Don’t hex me for this,” he murmurs against your lips, and then he’s kissing you.

You melt against the cool stone wall, tipping your head back so Sebastian can tilt his head against yours and completely overtake your senses with his demanding kisses. Without consciously deciding to, you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you, desperate to ensure he stays right where he is.

He kisses you well, you think. You know he’s always been a huge flirt, and that he has taken some girls in your year on dates to Hogsmeade over the years, but you’ve desperately avoided any post-date conversations with him because you did not want to know what he and those girls had gotten up to afterward.

Now you know, you think bitterly, but just as quickly you realize you don’t actually care. He’s skilled at this – nipping at your bottom lip to get you to open up for him, sliding his hand between your robes and your dress shirt so he can feel the curve of your waist, nudging a knee between your thighs to pin you even further to the wall.

“Bastian,” you murmur, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He groans against your mouth like he can’t help himself, and you whine a touch too loudly when he grinds his hips against yours.

Then you hear Eric’s voice call out, “Sallow!”

Sebastian looks like sin when he pulls away from you, and not just because his hair is a little mussed from your helpless tugging and his lips are red and swollen.

It’s because he’s smirking, and you quickly realize he’d planned this entire thing.

He’d pulled you to a spot where the Gryffindors on their way to dinner could easily see you being ravished, and it’s not just Eric he’s caught up in it – it’s Leander and Cressida too, some of the worst gossips in the entire castle.

…You are absolutely going to hex him for this, you think.

“Northcott,” Sebastian drawls as he turns around. “Can I help you?”

Eric looks furious, but at least he doesn’t look skeptical anymore.

“You might want to consider someplace a bit more private,” he offers, seething. “I am a prefect, after all. Could send you to detention for being so lewd in public.”

“Fair point,” Sebastian says easily. “In fact, maybe you ought to send us both. Hardly anywhere’s as private as the dungeons.”

You quickly smack Sebastian in the chest with the back of your hand, wordlessly begging him to stop before you actually do have to report to detention.

Mercifully, Eric simply throws a few choice words at Sebastian and stomps off to the Great Hall, Leander and Cressida on his heels to undoubtedly tell the entire school what just happened.

“You’re evil,” you hiss, still catching your breath. “You arranged all that just to embarrass Eric? To embarrass me like that?”

He frowns, confused. “No I didn’t, and I would never embarrass you.”

“You did!” you whine, shoving at his shoulders so he’ll step back. “They’re going to tell everyone and it’s going to make me sound like – like some pathetic girl who’s so desperate to avoid Eric’s attention that she’ll let her best friend feel her up in a busy hallway.”

“That’s not what they’ll think,” Sebastian argues. “And if anyone’s pathetic, love, it’s me.”

You scoff and wrap your arms around yourself, ashamed at how badly you wish you were still wrapped up in his arms instead despite everything you’re saying.

“You think I’m lying?” he asks derisively. “I’m a fool for you, and I would never hurt you. I kissed you like that because I wanted to, and if it happened to embarrass Northcott in the process, that’s even better.”

“Y-you wanted to?” you ask softly.

“I’ve wanted to for so long,” he finally admits.

His hands twitch at his sides like he wants to reach out for you, but he forces himself to behave.

“It’s the reason I came up with this stupid plan in the first place,” he sighs. “So that if anyone at this damn school gets to have the pleasure of walking you to class, or taking you to the Three Broomsticks or – or even kissing you senseless somewhere everyone could see, it would be me.”

You don’t have any words. But even if you did, there’s nothing you’d want to say to him that you couldn’t communicate by tugging him in by his collar and kissing him like you can’t think straight without his touch, so you do just that.

When you both break away to breathe, Sebastian quickly asks, “Are you actually hungry?”

“Not anymore,” you admit, your gaze still on his lips.

Sebastian barely manages to utter the words “Undercroft” and “hurry” in between kisses, but while he determinedly works a claiming bruise into the side of your neck, you whine, “Your common room’s closer.”

—

Once Ominis overhears Cressida waxing poetic about Sebastian Sallow practically mounting his new girlfriend in the hallway by the Grand Staircase, he doesn’t wonder why the two of you never show up for dinner.

[ronearoundblindly]

Fake Fic Title: One Year On

From this ask game. Steve Rogers x super soldier!reader (see series)

Warnings for mentions of past brainwashing, but then it's just fluff. [Please remember Reader has a chosen name after Hydra, not 'y/n,' and Steve calls you 'Rosie.' This is not an OFC, and you can ignore the name if you wish!]

There's the day your old self was born, the day you were taken, the day they woke you from the ice for the last time, and then the day they actually woke you from the cage of Hydra in your mind.

That last one--the genuine, friendly faces viewed with your own eyes--is the only anniversary you care about.

This is not that day.

A few weeks ago, they celebrated you. You for you, for who you've become, for the good that you do now. It was a nice party, though small because you still prefer those genuine friends to a sea of faces.

This is not that day. Today is average. You find average beautiful, and it's hard not to when an average day includes Steve, texting you to check in, floating an idea for dinner or some date-spot over the weekend, and catching you both up on the latest jokes for this decade.

There is nothing special about today, not even the reminder to water his little bonsai tree.

Damn it. You throw your head back in frustration.

A whole plot of land out here flourishing, hundreds of plants now, and you still can't remember to care for Steve's singular, indoor baby. In your defense, you and Maple practically live out here in the garden; you both really only go inside to be with Steve, sometimes Bucky and the team. You were shut in a room long enough, so it's good that they understand your preference.

"Come on, honey," you sigh to the huge German Shepard stretched out on her favorite bench, the one Steve usually sits on to read aloud to you.

Maple loves to hear his voice. She's used to hearing yours grumbling about the stupid little tree, the third of its kind since you managed to kill the predecessors.

You hang up your apron, brush off the bottom of your skirts, and head to the compound, Maple at your heel the whole way. Straight, left, elevator, right, right, left, palm on the sensor. Welcome.

The dog heads to her other favorite spot, just beside a plush bed bough specifically for her, and hangs a rust-colored paw over the rim.

As you fill up the tea pot that doubles as a watering can, you tsk Maple. "One day you'll figure it out... One day..."

She whines, resting her head sideways on the paw.

You wear a smile, the flow of your skirts billowing across the apartment.

"Alright, buddy," you mumble to the roots gently peeking from the glazed, blue pot, "let's not make me look bad to the big guy."

You wait for the water to absorb, pour again for good measure, and stand.

A glitter catches your eye, but it's not wiring in a branch. What on earth is...

Tucked over the delicate needles lies a diamond ring, and the heft of it hits you before it's free in your hand.

"I wasn't sure--" Steve emerges from the shadows "--what stone you'd like, so I went with something--"

"Classic," you breathe.

"Classic," he copies, "yes." He plants himself squarely before you. "I love you, Rosie. You know that. And I know that you've spent a whole year working so hard to become who you're supposed to be. You brought yourself back to life after...things most of us can't imagine--which is saying something since--"

"Nope." A voice snips quickly over the intercom. "Move on, Rogers."

Steve pinches his eyes shut, hissing, "damnit, I..."

Then he refocuses, looking at you, stunned to silence as you are. He takes the ring slowly from your frozen hand and drops to his knee.

"I'm honored to be a part of that life you built, but I want more. I want to be a part of you."

The edge of your vision goes blurry with tears of joy.

"Autumn Rose Barnes, whoever you were before, whoever you are now, and whoever you become in the future, will you give me the honor of marrying yo--"

"YES," you shriek, scaring yourself with the force of it.

Maple barks as a warning to her father. He better not be upsetting, Mom.

"Sorry, yes, I--Steve, I--"

He tilts your hand to slide the band over your finger, and it sparkles like your soul in this moment.

"I know," he chuckles, hanging his head to relax, unprepared for your leap into his arms. "Oof."

Maple growls in misunderstood disapproval.

The intercom crackles. "So is it safe to come in for congrats or all you two getting freaky?"

You can't tell who it is, and frankly, you don't care.

"Stay out," you shout while Steve rises to lift you off the ground in a bear hug. "He's all mine."

Capturing his face in your hands, you kiss Steve senseless. He is all yours, promised it, offered it, proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

In between rough and husky re-exclamations of how much he loves you, Steve admits he asked Sam to spot him on the speech. He kept fumbling it in practice, so much so that he's been planning this since before your celebration party.

"This was good," you comfort, pressing your forehead to his. "This is better."

"I only ever want the best for you, Rosie. Only the best."

He kisses you once more, twirling you around the living room as your skirts follow.

Your love will survive, just like his little bonsai, but it will take the two of you together, just like all the best things do.

A/N: sorry, Grem, I'm not even sure you've read this series. I love the chance to revisit them, though, especially at such a sweet moment.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry @bitchy-bi-trash @rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thiquefunlover63 @saiyanprincessswanie @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @stellar-solar-flare @deandreamernp

[beansnsoup]

Jaelyn's fic recs!

Fluff- 🧡

Smut - 💛

Part One! -> Part Two!

Alastor-

☆ Deer Dolly - Series by @ohproserpine 🧡

☆ for valentines day, i thought i'd buy a gun. By @ohproserpine

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose. 🧡💛?

☆ Alastor x Wife!Reader by @altruisticalastor

Summary: Lucifer gets a little too brazen with Alastor's darling wife. Guess the Ruler of Hell would just have to learn a lesson about who you belong to 💛

☆ my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife by @iicarused

synopsis:reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life) 🧡?

☆ come back to me by @iicarused

synopsis: you’re getting tired of the radio demon (part ii) 🧡?

☆ alastor + cunnilingus by @vmpyria 💛

☆ heaven knows your name by @iicarused

synopsis: heartaches after yearning for each other after decades of being apart 🧡

☆ alastor x married!reader by @bigfatbimbo 🧡

☆ DANCE WITH THE DEVIL by @popamolly

summary. Amidst the vibrant 1920s in New Orleans, a forbidden love unfolds in the lively jazz-filled atmosphere, evolving from an intoxicating romance to a twisted tale of heartbreak and murder, serving as a reminder to never dance with the devil. (SERIES) 🧡💛

Johnnie Guilbert-

☆ New Set by @corrodedcoffins-blog

summary: Giving boyfriend!Johnnie head scratches after getting new acrylics 🧡

☆ Collab by @teapartyprincess4two

summary: You and Johnnie pretend to date, faking it for so long that it became real. 🧡

☆ Run Your Mouth by @samandcolby-ownme

Prompt: Johnnie and reader get into an argument which leads to make up sex. 💛

☆ vampire!Johnnie x reader by @caeunot

summary- you find out your bf is a vampire 🧡💛?

☆ johnnie guilbert x reader by @caeunot

summary- johnnie writing zombie about you 🧡

☆ You by @sturnsreader 💛

☆ you know i’ll keep you in my locket by @stardustloserdoll 🧡

JSchlatt-

☆ "sit on my face." by @ghostkidabs 💛

☆ Jack & Coke part one by @d444zed 🧡💛?

☆ Jack & Coke part two by @d444zed 💛

☆ Mutual breakup headcanon/oneshot by @ohbabydollie 🧡

☆ Mutual breakup oneshot by @ohbabydollie 💛

Ellie Williams-

☆ no room for the holy spirit by @moncherellie 💛

☆ Roommate Trouble by @justkindalivin

summary: Your roommate Jesse and his girlfriend Dina fuck..a lot. loudly. When you finally get fed up after being woken up by their nightly “activities”, you go to Dina’s dorm for some peace and quiet only to run into her roommate, Ellie. 🧡💛

☆ hands to herself by @elliesbarbie

summary: ellie thinks you look a little too good in that bikini you chose to wear for the annual best friend vacay and can’t keep her hands off you 💛

☆ Getting caught with ellie by @me-and-your-husband 💛

☆ Body Ink by @me-and-your-husband

summary: you tattoo ellie's thigh. it's a bit of a compromising position, and it leads you down an unexpected road. female reader. 🧡💛

Alex Turner-

☆ Pillow Talk by @ohladymoon-blog

summary: what the title says, just pillow talk and soft cuddles after sex. ends in cockwarming. 🧡💛

☆ strawberry lace by @lilmisssweetdreams 🧡💛

☆ Test Drive by @savorypink 💛

Spiderman-

☆ Wingman (Hobie Brown) by @love-bitesx 🧡

☆ Crybaby (Hobie Brown) by @merowkittie 🧡

☆ "Thank You, Mrs. Parker." (Spider Noir) by @sabcandoit

Summary: After your wedding, you and Peter go home and have sex for the first time. 🧡💛

☆ Miss Your Face (TASM! Peter Parker) by @dontsaypetertingle

Summary: When you have to go out of town for work Peter gets lonely and a bit needy. An innocent call home to check on him becomes a lot more intense than originally planned. (Has a pt 2) 💛

☆ Break It In (Tom! Peter Parker) by @simplyparker

Summary: Peter gets his first car, and you want to have some fun 💛

☆ Please, Don't Stop Now by @echos-newlegs

Summary: you are in an established relationship with Peter, and he very much wants baby. 🧡💛

Fred Weasley-

☆ Facetime by @albertdabuttler

summary: !!MODERN AU!! Fred calls you in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep, but you look so pretty and he starts getting a little heated up. (Has 3 parts) 🧡💛

☆ Sweet Sugar Candyman by @keykeep 💛

☆ Sleeping In by @screamingoverfiction 💛

☆ Slipping Through My Fingers by @midnightmoonytales

Summary: Watching his little girl grow up had to one of his favorite things to see, but also one of the saddest. Every pivotal moment of her life flashing through his mind, even to this one now. (Wolfstar!daughter reader) 🧡

☆ Electric Pull by @apparentlytheproblem 🧡

Steve Harrington-

☆ I'll Be The Judge (Ft. Robin x Reader) by @luvfae

summary: steve and robin get into an argument about which one of them can give a girl a better orgasm, you come up with an idea to settle the argument once and for all. 💛

☆ Cowboy Hat Rule by @taintedcigs

summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. 💛

☆ Marriage Pact by @fantasylandloser

summary: besties that plan to get married 🧡💛

Eddie Roundtree-

☆ Blind Date by @luvfae

Summary: The reader and Eddie get setup on a blind date 🧡💛

☆ Lead Singers Are Overrated by @luvfae

summary: working at the whiskey has it perks and that includes getting railed backstage by a certain bassist in a band. 💛

Extras-

☆ Not In On The Joke (Brian Quinn) by @joe--bro

Summary: The Jokers have to do certain tasks to win in the park, and a certain task given by the rest of the Jokers leads Q to talk to you. 🧡

☆ Flavored Kisses (Xavier Thorpe) by @cosmicpearlz

summary: in which you wear a different flavored chapstick everyday and your boyfriend xavier loves it. 🧡

☆ Babysitting (Judd Birch) by @just-another-author-i-guess

Summary: you and Judd are the designated babysitters for the night. 🧡💛

☆ Don't Fake It (Peter Quill) by @professorrw

Request/Summary: peter starts getting frisky with the reader but shes tired and isn’t really in the mood. He would never pressure her or anything but she wants to make him happy and feels bad saying no, so she does it and fakes her orgasm just to get it over with. Later, he somehow finds out (or knew all along, you decide) that she faked it and of course his ego is bruised and he’s kinda annoyed, but also feels guilty she didn’t tell him how she felt. So the next night, she starts coming onto him and he makes damn sure she never fakes it again. 💛

☆ So Beautiful (Loki Laufeyson) by @lokiisdaddyblog

Summary: Reader is feeling insecure and Loki proves to her that she's perfect. 🧡💛

[eskawrites]

cfdau secret lore!

y'all voted for secret lore from the celebrity fake dating au notes on the valentine's day poll, so here ya go! these are notes i wrote up between finishing the base fic and starting the nancy pov

there's some random thoughts on side characters and such:

Chrissy knew who Robin was. She thought she looked kinda familiar in the bar, but with the low lights and the crowd and the fact that she was also drunk she didn’t think about it too much. But somewhere between leaving and getting to Chrissy’s apartment she finds out Robin’s name, and it all sort of clicks into place.

She doesn’t want to do anything to make Robin uncomfortable, so she sort of tries to get her to admit it or at least realize Chrissy knows, but she’s drunk and Robin is too so it kind of ends up being something like “So what do you do for a living, Robin?” and Robin shakes her head and says don’t worry about it. So, Chrissy doesn’t. She doesn’t tell a soul—not even her closest friends—and she and Robin never see each other again. But she does read the interview when it comes out, and she sends a letter to Robin telling her she’s happy for her and hopes she can find peace and happiness.

-

Vickie sees the interview, too. She’s in a bad relationship at the time, sticking around with an asshole guy because he’s one of the few people who has ever known she’s bi and accepted her for it. Well, it’s not really acceptance, but he hasn’t dumped her or asked for a threesome yet, so she supposes this is probably as good as she’ll ever get. She thinks, sometimes, about what happened to Robin last spring. She knows that could’ve easily been her. She tells herself she’s content to just stick with what she has, thinks she’s selfish for wanting anything more.

But then the interview comes out. She hears about it on the news when she’s out with her boyfriend and his friends, and they all make awful comments about it. Vickie nods along with them, but the next time she’s alone, she rushes to buy a copy to see it for herself. She reads it three times in a row. Starts crying halfway through her first read. She thinks about Robin—she’s thought about her a lot, actually, over the years. Thinks about her loving Vickie like it’s the last chance she’ll ever get. Thinks about the gentle, resigned way she let Vickie break her heart. Thinks about all the rumors and awful tabloids she’s seen about her since that spring in Ireland. But she lingers on the ending, on the way Robin talks about healing, and she decides she deserves it, too.

She breaks up with her boyfriend and spends time on her own. Goes to a couple gay bars for the first time in her life. Learns to accept herself wholly and truly. Finds happiness the way that Robin did, and for the first time since she was 18, she can look back on that year and smile.

-

Erica moved to NYC shortly after high school and started her own business. She’s not in the fic because 1) she never trauma bonded with the party so she doesn’t hang out with them and 2) she’s one of New York’s most successful businesswomen, so she’s very very busy. But she does live with Lucas for a few months when she first moves to the city, which is the early 90s, kind of just before Steve and Robin reunite with Max and Dustin. As a result, Erica knows the younger party members a bit, and she and Max are pretty close, but her and Robin never really met.

-

Dustin and Suzie are the first of the group to get married. Will meets his future husband at their wedding.

-

Nancy and Robin go on another trip upstate a few months after they go public with their relationship. It’s very much a ‘third time’s the charm’ kind of thing. The first weekend getaway Robin is still pretending to be in love with Steve. The second weekend getaway they pretend is completely platonic. On the third, everyone knows exactly what’s up. And if that four-day weekend ends up lasting two weeks, well, no one says anything.

-

i also have an entire section of notes titled 'marriage drabbles' that i don't want to post too much of because i'm still undecided on whether i'll actually turn it into something one day. but for now here are a couple excerpts:

If you’re not counting Robin and Steve—and none of them do these days—Dustin is the first of the Erathia cast to get married.

He tells Steve first, but Robin is the one he asks to help him pick out a ring and set up the proposal. Suzie says yes, of course, and it’s all perfectly romantic and adorably cliché.

They have a fantasy-themed wedding. Dustin tells them the venue looks like Rivendell, with beautiful arches and delicate, hanging greenery and an abundance of natural light. A year later, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will drag the entire group to see The Fellowship of the Ring, and Robin is amazed to find that, yeah, the elf city looks a lot like Dustin’s wedding.

Suzie walks down the aisle to the song from Princess Bride. Dustin cries when he sees her. Steve cries when Dustin cries. Robin does, too, but Nancy sneaks her a tissue and no one else notices.

-

Mike and El are next. It’s a quiet affair, close family and friends. Neither Mike nor El stress about any of the details, though Mrs. Wheeler frets over both of them for a solid month leading up to the wedding.

Max is the maid of honor. Nancy is a bridesmaid, too, which means Robin spends the ceremony sitting beside Steve, trying not to stare at her.

They’re especially affectionate at the reception. Mike calls them gross. El calls them sweet. Mrs. Wheeler kisses Robin’s hair and asks them when their turn will be. Robin stammers and blushes while Nancy watches her, fond and amused, the most beautiful thing Robin has ever seen.

[wooyoong]

🌼 freya's recent svt reads (& recs)

disclaimer : these are my RECENT reads, and i haven't added some of my old reads! also i have tried to add atleast one for each member to the list hehe (except jihoon he has two)

note : fic titles labelled with a * mark are series. minors please stay away, strictly. almost all fics here are 18+ !!

— also, i am @angelwoozi 😭 incase you wanted to check out my writing blog then.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

* yours, but not yours by @gyukult (fake dating au, 18+)

when a nice guy gets too overbearing, you’re stuck with the option of having a fake boyfriend.

YOON JEONGHAN

Jeonghan's Guide to Insurance Fraud (And Falling In Love) by @starsstuddedsky (f2l, fake dating au)

your best friend offers a way for you to get your wisdom teeth removed without going into debt. the only catch? you can’t fall in love

HONG JISOO

Plush by @bitchlessdino (est relationship, 18+)

soft joshua cockwarming drabble, with love and yearning.

WEN JUNHUI

Love, Actually by @haet-sal (single dad, boss jun, kind of infidelity au, 18+)

You’re the wide-eyed, clueless-but-on-top secretary to Wen Junhui, and it all starts, with one new year’s kiss… well, new year’s fuck.

Mr. Wen likes you. It should have been obvious, whenever he seemed to forgive your inadequate work ethics and frequent unfailing mishaps, and how much he trusted you, no matter how many mistakes you made, how much he hated hearing about your life with your boyfriend… and what kind of boss goes shopping for their employee, privately, anyway?

KWON SOONYOUNG

i don't understand but i love you by @hvcmixtape (est relationship)

soonyoung has only been the kindest and most gentle husband. sometimes you feel like you're floating on the stars, and sometimes you feel like you've just jumped into the most romantic book.

JEON WONWOO

rich girl by @blushnote (rich girl x street punk wonwoo, 18+)

wonwoo likes to call you a rich girl, and you hate it because it’s true. in fact, you hate a lot of things: your friends, your parent’s attitude, the way your life is supposed to be perfect even though you’re miserable. not much makes you happy, except for a punk boy who you can’t even be with.

LEE JIHOON

You Make Me Breathe by @hwanghyunjinenthusiast (hanahaki au)

Jihoon is utterly in love with you. Too bad you're into his friend Soonyoung, and he's too much of a coward to ever tell you how he feels. He's happy to take his feelings to the grave but soon finds that his body doesn't agree with his decision.

* As a Matter of Fact by @starsstuddedsky (co-workers to lovers, fake dating au)

when you're caught in a simple lie, the best solution? dig in your heels and stick to your guns until everything inevitably goes wrong and everyone gets hurt

LEE SEOKMIN

(Not) A Gentleman by @wonusite (est relationship, 18+)

Your boyfriend is the sweetest man alive—a perfect gentleman. However, you’re determined to show him that he doesn’t always have to be a gentleman.

KIM MINGYU

Good Dad, Better Daddy by @bitchlessdino (dilf au, bestfriend's dad mingyu, 18+)

you were hesitant when your friend said you should just stay at her house for the summer, especially knowing you can barely contain yourself with her hot dad around as well as the thought of not getting caught.

XU MINGHAO

at dawn by @sluttyminghao (domestic au, est relationship, 18+)

domestic sex with boyfriend minghao!

BOO SEUNGKWAN

pussy sport by @duhnova (fwb au, 18+)

leave it up to boo seungkwan to almost suffocate between your thighs, eat you out till you’re crying, and to figure out a new kink of his.

CHWE HANSOL

You Get Me So High by @cheolhub (f2l, 18+)

smoking with your best friend (who you totally don’t have a crush on) is super fun till all you can think about is him… well, doing him, to be more specific.

LEE CHAN

promise ring by @lovelyhan (royalty au, f2l, 18+)

no one would've guessed that the daughter of the town’s royal mage has a soft spot for the clumsiest fire elemental in the entire realm. but when the crown prince suddenly asks for your hand in marriage, you're forced to consider how you feel about a certain lee jung chan a lot more seriously.

🌼 show love to all the authors, and don't misuse their content. all rights reserved by the respective authors!

[yikesmary]

all fics are fluff unless stated otherwise. this will be constantly updated as i post a fic.

buy me a kofi?

REQUESTS: open / closed

taglist is now closed!

updated: march 7th, 2025

choi seungcheol / s.coups

series: ↪ fake dating roommates one two three four — summary: in which choi seungcheol becomes your roommate and fake boyfriend in one fell swoop. and you still don’t know how it happened.

one shots: ↪  pregnancy cravings — summary: where being pregnant comes with its struggles, and one of them just so happens to be the random pregnancy cravings. so, in the middle of the night, you try to sneak out and go to the convenience store nearby and buy something to satisfy your craving. however, your husband wakes up and insists to accompany you—even if he’s barely awake.  

↪ finally   — summary: in a last-ditch effort to study before your big final exam, you barricade yourself in your apartment in order to study as much as you can. on the day of your last exam, your boyfriend, seungcheol, finally sees you and comes with gifts.

↪ boyfriend duties — summary: after a night out with your friends, your boyfriend, seungcheol tries to take care of a drunk you. as he is helping you get ready for bed, you start mumbling about an interesting topic

↪ untitled (ANGST) — summary: the only thing I can tell you without giving out any spoilers: I am truly sorry for what I've done

↪ ruined birthday surprise — summary: in which you try your hardest to surprise cheol.

↪ options — summary: where cheol tries his best to make sure your pregnancy cravings are satisfied—by buying what seems to be the whole convenience store

↪ tea party — summary: where seungcheol is determined to entertain your guys' daughter, haewon, while you take a much-deserved nap.

yoon jeonghan none for now

hong jisoo / joshua ↪ clockwork (ANGST) — summary: where it wasn’t supposed to be like this. but it did.

wen junhui / jun none for now

kwon soonyoung / hoshi ↪ savior — summary: where you save soonyoung from a horrible, wild beast. spoiler: it's a spider

jeon wonwoo ↪ book boyfriend — summary: who needs a fictional boyfriend when your real boyfriend was even better than the movies?

↪  cat dad — summary: whenever you go to your boyfriend, wonwoo's, house, his cat mimi. and he's totally not jealous because of this.

↪ bedtime routine — summary:  where you loved times like these with your boyfriend, wonwoo.

↪ marriage — summary: where wonwoo’s nightmare is coming true. (contrary to the title, this one shot is lighthearted)

↪ birthday surprise — summary:  where you and nari try to make breakfast and a cake before wonwoo wakes up… if only your daughter knew what the word “surprise” meant.

↪ moving on (ft. mingyu) — summary: in which giving up on kim mingyu seems to be the only solution, and jeon wonwoo is right there to help you out.

lee jihoon / woozi none for now

lee seokmin / dk none for now

kim mingyu ↪ puppy parents — summary: where your golden retriever has the tendency to bring you things she has an interest in— sticks, frisbees that obviously don’t belong to you, and even the occasional bird. but this time, your dog brings… a man? and not just any man, only the most beautiful man you’ve ever met. maybe your dog is onto something…

↪ husband duties — summary: where mingyu is the best support system for your pregnancy.

↪ drunk giant —  summary: in which you have to figure out how to transfer your drunk boyfriend to the bedroom without causing major bodily harm. and he’s not making it easy for you.

↪ shave —  summary: with your boyfriend’s comeback approaching, mingyu asks you to help with shaving.

↪ (not) a date night —  summary: sometimes it was hard dating an idol because of their busy schedules. after missing a date and being mia, mingyu tries to make it up to you.

↪ moving on (ft. wonwoo) — summary: in which giving up on kim mingyu seems to be the only solution, and jeon wonwoo is right there to help you out.

↪ hypnotized — summary: where you've got seventeen's mingyu hypnotized, and he doesn't mind it one bit.

xu minghao ↪ artblock — summary: trying to finish a commission, you find yourself stuck in what to paint. thankfully your boyfriend knows exactly what to do in order to help you get your inspiration back.

boo seungkwan none for now

hansol vernon chwe / vernon none for now

lee chan / dino none for now

[suzukiblu]

WIP Wednesday Game

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

a fake cryptid and a real romantic

mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees

YJ accidental baby acquisition

merfam drama

gentle princely caretaking 

snippet from "a fake cryptid and a real romantic":

Clark hears a sudden rush of air and a thrumming, not-quite-human heartbeat, and is therefore unsurprised when Superboy pops up over the side of the Metropolis rooftop he’s sitting on and grins up at him. The kid always seems to be in a good mood, but is clearly in an even better one than usual. 

“Guess what?!” Superboy greets gleefully, pushing himself up on the edge. 

“What?” Clark asks, smiling wryly at him. The kid just gets so enthusiastic so easily. It’s kind of funny, to be honest. 

“I got a date!” Superboy says delightedly, plopping into a seat beside him and kicking his legs excitedly as he does. “Robin said I could go hunting with him in Gotham this weekend!” 

“You’re going to hang out, you mean,” Clark corrects kindly, since Superboy still has a notably skewed education and concept of correct terminology and probably calling working with another vigilante a “date” without knowing what that actually means isn’t going to end well for the kid in the long run. Especially since Robin isn’t actually an aspect of Gotham like the Batman is and would definitely be confused by it. 

Admittedly, the Batman gets confused by some very straightforward things sometimes, but still. 

“‘Hang out’,” Superboy repeats, cocking his head with a slightly puzzled expression that almost immediately clears into another excited grin. “That, yeah! I caught Catwoman breaking into some fancy cat exhibit in Gotham and dropped her off for him, and he was into it! And I gave him a diamond and he liked that too!” 

“A . . . diamond?” Clark blinks. He really hopes Catwoman didn’t manage to be that bad of an influence on the kid in one meeting, but he wouldn’t put it past her. Superboy’s impressionable and Catwoman is . . . well, Catwoman. “Uh–where’d you get that?” 

“I made it!” Superboy says proudly, puffing himself up as he mimes the act of crushing something in his fists. 

. . . alright then, Clark thinks, mildly bewildered. He has no idea why Superboy would make a diamond, much less give it to Robin, but the kid gets weird ideas into his head sometimes and he supposes it would’ve been good practice for controlling his strength to very specific pressures, so he’s not going to say anything about it.

“Did you?” he says, figuring he should keep the conversation going. Superboy’s an odd kid, but he’s eager and has a good heart and always soaks up attention like a sponge, so Clark always tries to talk to the kid at least a little whenever the other finds him. 

“I figured Robin’d like it,” Superboy says reasonably, kicking his feet again. “Birds like shiny stuff, and he’s kinda a bird, right?” 

Clark is going to assume that Tim Drake more appreciated the expensive gemstone than the “shiny stuff”, assuming a teenage boy would even care about anything like that anyway, but he doesn’t want to rain on Superboy’s parade. Honestly, he’s just glad the kid’s finally trying to make a friend or two in the community who isn’t wearing an “S”. It never hurts to have a little backup on call–or to have a friend who understands the life around, either. 

He’s not actually certain what the Batman’s latest Robin’s policy on maintaining his secret identity among the larger hero community is–even Dick still typically presents himself as a city splinter, just of Bludhaven instead of Gotham now–but even if he keeps passing for a cryptid with Superboy for a little while longer, it’s not like Superboy’s had a normal life experience. He’s not going to be bothered that he can’t talk about girls and homework with his new friend first thing. 

Clark vaguely dreads the possibility of Superboy eventually deciding to come to him to talk about girls, because he has absolutely no idea how to talk to anyone about girls, much less an impressionable teenager who’s guaranteed to hang on his every word for the whole conversation and take everything he says as gospel while also misunderstanding at least half of it, judging by most of their previous conversations. He hasn’t even been able to figure out how to give the kid the Kryptonian version of the talk, though, much less if it’s actually applicable to him. Relationship issues and dating are a whole other kettle of fish. 

Well, with any luck Superboy will stay too young for that kind of thing for a little while longer, Clark hopes halfheartedly. Just–please?

[autisticalastor]

in this light, i think i'm falling

Pairing: Vox/Lucifer

Rating: G

Tags: Fluff, Fake Dating, First Dates, Past Vox/Alastor

A/N: This fic brought to you by Staticapple Week day 1: first date! I had this cooking for a long time but didn't finish it up until now lol. These two could have such a fun dynamic, I need them to kiss Immediately. Title is from Fallingforyou by The 1975!

It's a terrible plan. Really, nothing good could come of trying to make Alastor jealous. Yet here Lucifer sits, across the table from Alastor's alleged worst enemy... and Lucifer's biggest rival for his affections.

"Is he looking at us? He's definitely looking at us. Quick, laugh like I said something really funny," Vox says, surreptitiously glancing across the room at Alastor as he speaks.

"Why don't you try actually being funny first?" Lucifer replies. "Those over-the-top fake laughs are so obvious; he'd definitely know something's up. Nobody's convinced by that outside of dumb rom-coms."

"Maybe try to make it look convincing, then, dumbass. Besides, Al plays laugh tracks out of his stupid cane thing every time he thinks he's told a funny joke. I doubt he'd know the difference." That actually does earn a laugh from Lucifer, and Vox grins at him, clearly quite pleased with himself.

"God, he's so ridiculous. What do I even see in him?" Lucifer asks, though it's more of a rhetorical question.

"Hell if I know. Terrible choice on both of our parts, really."

And it really is. Alastor isn't exactly the loving type. If he's going to fall for either of them... It's only going to be one of them. What are they supposed to do if their plan works, fight over him? Absolutely not. He'd enjoy that way too much.

Keep Reading

[donationwayne]

here's my confession (I'm kind of hooked on you) CHAPTER FOUR

Pairing: Buddie || 24.7k/109k || Chapter 4/19 ||

CHAPTER FOUR OF MY FIC FOR @118bigbang ! !!!!!

THE RETURN OF DILF EDDIE

This week: buck cooks for eddie, buck and eddie gossip, buck meets up witht he 118

Summary:

Buck is forced to go on a temporary medical leave after getting crushed by a flight of stairs. In the meantime, he works at dispatch while he recovers. One evening after work, Buck hooks up with a mysterious, hot, family oriented DILF. The following morning he’s mortified and a little love sick after discovering said hook-up aka Eddie Diaz is the newest (temporary) firefighter liaison--poached from a house in El Paso, Texas. Buck navigates becoming best friends and eventually work partners with his ex-hookup. In the meantime, he desperately tries not to fall in love. He fails.

Cue: An adorable five year old, prank wars, gay offs, break room gossip, a fake dating plot, firefighting shenanigans, a packed summer of PTA responsibilities, karaoke, and copious amounts of cupcakes and thai food

OR

tldr: the hot dilf from the bar is my new work partner

_________

SNIP

Eddie joins Buck, who already has their meals on the table—potato and zucchini curry over rice. Eddie melts into the chair beside him, taking a long inhale of curry like it was a cigarette. “You’ve really got to teach me how to do this sometime.”

“Over my dead body. What use would you have for me if you learned how to cook?” Buck teases, “Besides, I doubt Chris would enjoy your learning phase of cooking. It sounds like you char even water.”

“Screw you Buckley,” Eddie replies with a light grin. “So, what’s going on out there today?”

It's a new part of his and Eddie's lunchtime routine, ever since the new dispatch trainees started, the pair has begun watching out the windows of the break room as though it were a large scale television. There was plenty of drama going on around the room between phone calls, especially on days that could be considered slow. Buck has made a flow chart of who dislikes who, who was friends, and clashing personalities that rarely interact. He and Eddie have spent the last few weeks stirring the pot in the office to Sue’s chagrin. She humored them with gentle amusement, as long as it wasn’t interrupting work or causing major issues.

“What do you think Sharon is thinking about?” Eddie asks as he spoons some curry into his mouth. He glances at Buck, who is expertly using chopsticks. “How do you use those? One time I went out with my sisters to some sushi joint when I was back in Texas, they all got chopsticks, and I was the only one who didn’t know how to use them. Our waiter rigged a pair with a rubber band and gave them to me, kid style. Chris still laughs about it to this day, I’m pretty sure that was, as that baby dispatcher over there calls it, a core memory.”

Buck nearly laughs coffee through his nose. “I love when you use terminology you don’t really understand that the baby dispatchers teach you, and it's even better when you use it correctly. You’re going to make Chris’ life a living hell when he grows up.”

“That’s exactly what I’m aiming for. There is nothing I love in life more than being the cringe dad. It's a well earned title.”

“Also, as for Sharon, she’s definitely thinking about last night's episode of the Bachelor, we talked about it for the full length of our first break.”

“Is that what you do on calls? Think about The Bachelor while you’re supposed to be saving lives?”

“That’s exactly it, Eddie. I’m confused, I thought I was hired to think about The Bachelor all day, I’m pretty sure it was in my contract.” Eddie rolls his eyes, scooping a large piece of potato. “And actually right now I’m pretty getting into this procedural show, my friend Chim rolled his eyes when I told him I hadn't seen it. I didn’t really watch television growing up, so it's all sort of new to me, and I’m playing catch-up, shoving all this pop culture into my free time.”

“I’m not a big TV buff, but I think I can quote Finding Nemo to you, if that means anything at all. I’m well versed in animated children's movies.”

“Delightful, someday I will come over and we will watch Tangled, and I will force you to sing every word because it is one of the greatest children's musical movies, in my opinion. It's also one of like five children's movies I actually saw growing up.”

“Whenever you talk about your parents, it gives me whiplash. Half the time I think you despise your parents, and the other half of the time you dote on them,” Eddie points out curiously.

Buck opens and closes his mouth a few times. “My real parents live in Pennsylvania, I have no relationship with them. I’ve lowkey been adopted by a different set of adults, and I call them my parents, even though they’re not really my parents. I realize why that’s confusing,” Buck admits sheepishly. “I’ve also never called them my parents to their faces before.” Buck blushes, “But I really do think of them as the closest thing to real parents that I have. I’m 'no contact' with my family.”

[gayashelljatp]

Prince Charming x James Hook | Trophy Boy Chapter 1

Tags :Sorta Enemies to Lovers Fake/Pretend Relationship Not Canon Compliant, Inspired by Cinderella (1997), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Prince Charming is a Bi-King, Prince Charming Is Filipino, Because the actor is and I also am one so yeah, Prince Charming gets a lot of bitches but no love, Merlin Academy (Disney), James Hook is gay, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I don't know how to tag in this fandom, No Beta Like Not Going To Castlecoming

Summary:

Charming had himself caught up in a pretty little lie, telling his parents he had a date for his birthday ball. Desperate to stop their meddling in his love life, he came up with a plan: show up with someone who’d make the court gasp—a notorious pirate at school, James Hook. It was supposed to be a quick fix: fake a romance, cause a stir, and be free from the royal matchmakers forever. But the more time Charming spent with Hook—as a person, the sharp banter—the more complicated things got. This wasn’t just about pretending anymore. He was starting to get hooked. Or The sorta enemies to fake dating to lovers between Hook and Charming no one asked for.

Content Rating: Teen and Up.

Wordcount: 5,931

Notes (Same On AO3):

Hi, I'm Ace. But I'm here posting and writing more gay shit for the Descendants fandom.

I'm one for a crack ship and these two don't even interact in the movie so you may be wondering what made me do this. Three things actually:

I'm in the Descendants editing community and I saw this edit by @jewishvarian. Hook's actor Josh pretty much showing his support to this ship has made we want to do this.

The second inspiration is Once Upon A Time ship Captain Charming my sister had a Once Upon A Time phase so I know quite a bit about them. The third thing the catalyst for this is the fanfic Stage Call by Montythecrow. (The first chapter is really good can't wait for more. Also R.I.P. DBD I never got to make a DBD fic before it got cancelled *sighs in JATP*)

Let's do some housekeeping and explain the lore because this fic grabs from fifty million things.

- The Brandy Cinderella movie or Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella (1997) as it's also known are major inspirations. I pulled the characterization of Charming from this film and the new Descendants film and I pulled the whole of Charming's parents and his butler Lionel from this movie. (Pls watch this movie. It's really fun, campy and entertaining.)

- I also took from various Prince Charming media from Cinderella movies from Disney to non-Disney. Charming (2018)'s Trophy Boy by Avril Lavigne, Ashely Tisdale and G.E.M. is where the title of this fic comes from. It's a bad movie but this song is legendary and pop perfection. A K-pop star, a Disney star, and a rock star all in one song is crazy.

- This fic has multiple POV's for Charming focused parts 👑 emojis are used on the other hook if it's James it's this emoji 🪝.

- Finally, this isn't a GayashellJATP fic without a playlist of songs I have on that help immerse you in the universe. Spotify playlist here!!!

Now that we are done with some housekeeping. Enjoy the fic & Remember to give feedback!!! It is always appreciated.

Notes (Tumblr):

I'm trying to do better on posting on here and being on time. With being a cross platform author. I still don't know how Tumblr works pls help me. Once again I suggest you read on AO3 my formatting is way better on that.

Chapter 1: Before The Ball

👑

Charming was so screwed.

He'd been excused from class by royal summons, which only meant one of two things: either bad news or... well, worse news. Lionel, the family’s loyal servant and his assigned guardian at the academy, was jittery, practically fidgeting as he escorted the skateboarding teen to the castle. 

Lionel’s nervousness only heightened Charming's suspicion—did he tattle on him sneaking out of the academy for a late-night date? Again? Or worse—had he forgotten some royal obligation that would now come back to bite him?

Despite the comfortable life he'd been born into, Charming had a talent for getting into situations that made it... uncomfortable. Usually of his own making.

The moment they arrived at the vast, gilded throne room, the knot in his stomach twisted tighter. His mother stood. Not good. Queen Constantina only stood when something serious—truly serious—was about to be discussed. Lionel cleared his throat and began the ceremonial introduction. 

“Your Royal Highness, Prince Charming—”

The Queen interrupted with a sharp glance. “Prince Christopher Rupert Windermere Vladimir—”

“Mom,” Charming sighed, cutting Lionel off. “He doesn’t have to say it every time.” The poor man practically bowed in relief when Charming gestured for him to be seated. The full name was ridiculously wordy, one of the many reasons why "Prince Charming" stuck much more easily.

“Son, you didn’t need to dismiss him,” King Maximilian spoke up from beside the queen, kissing his wife’s hand. Charming had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. 

His parents were constantly doing that—displaying affection as if they were still teenagers in love. Any love hater would have gagged, but Charming simply tried to suppress a smirk. Even he couldn't deny they were a good match, for better or worse.

“Mom. Dad. What is it this time?” Charming asked, his voice strained but trying not to sound too impatient.

“Watch your tone, Junior,” his father said, though not harshly.

Charming forced a deep breath. “Fine. What’s the big news?” he said, layering on enthusiasm that was just short of sarcasm.

The Queen exchanged a meaningful glance with her husband before turning to her son, her posture regal and dramatic all at once. "Your eighteenth birthday in two days."

“I thought—” his father began, but a sharp elbow from his wife stopped him. “We thought it would be appropriate to throw a birthday ball.”

Charming's heart sank. "A ball?" His voice came out strained. "Father, is that really necessary?"

Queen Constantina's eyes glistened with an air of theatrics as she responded, “You haven’t shown any of your potential picks for marriage. You are two years overdue for at least a partner!” Her voice hitched as though it were a tragedy in itself.

Charming had tried, of course. He'd gone on more first dates than he cared to count, but none had led to anything serious. His royal reputation for being “charming” only went so far, especially when he wasn’t charmed by anyone.

“I’m working on it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But Mom, I don’t think a ball for my birthday is necessary.”

“Necessary?” His mother’s voice shot up an octave, her hand flying dramatically to her chest as if she were about to swoon. “Is it necessary that I should die knowing my only son will be a lonely king?!”

Charming’s eyes widened. “Mom, please. You’re not going to—"

“I might!” she countered, her voice trembling as if the mere thought of his supposed future loneliness was too much to bear. “The idea of you being all alone without a wife or family—oh! How tragic it would be!”

Charming rubbed the back of his neck, suppressing a groan. He loved his mom, truly, but sometimes her dramatics were... a lot. “Okay, fine. I get it. But… I have someone. Already. A partner.”

The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think them through. His heart nearly stopped as both his parents' faces lit up.

“You do?!” his father exclaimed, clapping his hands together in glee.

The Queen looked like she was about to burst into tears of joy. “Oh, my darling boy! You’ve found someone! You’ve—”

Charming quickly nodded, feeling his stomach churn with regret. “Yep. Found someone. Really great.”

His father beamed. “That’s fantastic news, son! We were beginning to wonder if you'd ever—"

“But the ball,” Queen Constantina interjected with a flourish of her hand. “The ball must still happen! After all, it’s been paid for, and all the preparations have already been made.”

Charming’s shoulders slumped. “Of course it has…”

His mother took his hands, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, darling, I can’t wait to meet this special someone of yours. Bring her to the ball!”

"Yeah. Absolutely," Charming forced a grin, though inside, his mind raced. He was so, so screwed. Not only was the ball happening no matter what, but now he had to show up with a date—someone bad enough to stop his parents from meddling in his love life ever again.

Where on Earth was he going to find that?

👑

Charming zoomed through the academy gates on his skateboard, the wind whipping through his hair as his thoughts churned. Why had he lied? It gnawed at him, the weight of a falsehood pressing on his conscience. Lies weren’t really his thing. Now, he’d have to turn that lie into reality, or it would eat him alive.

As he skated through the courtyard, his gaze caught Fay, a fairy in training and his hexalogy class partner, sitting cross-legged on the grass, her nose buried in a spellbook. She was mumbling under her breath, waving her wand with exaggerated movements as sparks of magic fizzled in the air. 

“Hey, Fay,” he called, slowing down as he rolled over.

Fay glanced up, her wide eyes narrowing with playful frustration. “Charming, where were you?” she asked, tapping her wand against her open book. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to hex yourself and then unhex yourself without your partner? I nearly turned myself into a frog!”

“Royal duties,” Charming shrugged, offering an apologetic smile.

Fay’s expression softened immediately. She knew all too well the burden his title carried. “What did the queen say this time?” she asked, her tone light but sympathetic.

Charming rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re throwing another ball.”

Fay’s face lit up. “A ball? Isn’t that fantastic—” she paused, noticing the scowl creeping over Charming's face, “—ally… impossible to enjoy?” She attempted to course-correct, her enthusiasm dimming as she realized how much the idea clearly weighed on him. Fay wasn’t the best at being negative, but she tried.

“But I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be there for the next class.”

“You better be,” Fay huffed, but her tone was forgiving. 

“The whole kingdom’s invited. Maybe I’ll catch you at the ball?”

“Nah, I doubt it. I’ll be here practicing my spells,” she said with a shy smile, already inching back toward her book. Fay wasn’t one for social events—she always seemed to vanish from them, though Charming never asked why. 

“Well, I’ll see you later,” Charming said, giving her a quick wave.

“Later, skater!” Fay called, attempting to sound cool, which earned a chuckle from Charming. She couldn’t help but laugh at herself as he rolled away.

But as Charming skated off, Fay accidentally mispronounced her next spell. Instead of reciting "double the bubbles," she muttered "double the wobbles" under her breath. Without realizing it, she had casted a spell on Charming’s skateboard, causing it to take on a life of its own. 

Charming, an experienced skater, didn’t notice anything at first. But as he glided past the group of notorious students hanging out by the courtyard's edge, the board beneath his feet began to wobble violently, as though possessed. 

His body lurched forward, trying to steady himself, but the board had other ideas. It veered, zigzagging uncontrollably, and before Charming could react, it shot straight toward a cluster of students.

In a blur of motion, Charming collided with none other than Captain James Hook—his pirate classmate, and perhaps the academy’s most infamous heartthrob after Charming himself. With a loud thud, both boys went crashing to the ground, Hook's shiny golden hook clattering against the stone courtyard as they tumbled in a tangle of limbs.

Charming groaned, disentangling himself. “I’m so sorry!” he blurted, scrambling to his feet. His skateboard had spun off and smacked into a nearby tree, finally bringing the spell to a halt.

Hook stood up slowly, glaring down at Charming with narrowed eyes. His gaze was sharp and menacing, but there was a flicker of something else—jealousy? Amusement? It was hard to tell. 

“You really are a royal asshole, aren’t you?” Hook growled, dusting off his crimson blazer. His voice dripped with venom, but there was something undeniably captivating about the way he spoke. “Gunning for me, were you?”

“No! No, I swear. I didn’t mean to—I lost control of the board.”

Hook didn’t seem convinced. He stepped closer, his imposing presence casting a shadow over Charming. “You were heading straight toward me, mate,” Hook said, his tone dangerously low. His golden hook gleamed as he pointed it directly at Charming’s perfect face. “That doesn’t seem like much of an accident.”

Charming’s heart pounded as his eyes flicked from Hook’s face to the hook hovering too close for comfort. He held up his hands in surrender, his voice calm and soothing. “Whoa, easy,” he said, gently grabbing Hook’s wrist and pushing the hook away from his face. For a brief second, his fingers brushed against Hook’s skin.

For just a moment, Charming couldn’t help but notice Hook. The sharp features, the dark, windswept hair, the way his crimson blazer framed his broad shoulders. And those eyes—intense, narrowed in suspicion, but undeniably alluring. 

Charming blinked, snapping out of it. He was in trouble, not admiring the guy who was about to gut him like a fish.

Hook, however, seemed to notice Charming’s lingering gaze. His eyes flashed with something almost wild, and a wicked smirk curled on his lips. “What’s the matter, Prince? Distracted?”

“Uh, no. Not at all. Just… don’t want to get impaled, that’s all.”

Hook raised an eyebrow, amused but not backing down. “Right.” He clicked his tongue, his hook gleaming in the sunlight as he let it fall to his side. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Or else…” He let the threat hang in the air, his eyes still burning into Charming’s.

“Right, yeah. Lucky,” Charming muttered, his pulse still racing. He wasn’t sure if it was from the near-death experience or the fact that Hook was standing way too close. He hadn’t expected Hook to be so—well, so much. Why was he noticing that now?

Hook’s smirk lingered as he stepped back, finally giving Charming some space. “Try not to skate into any more of your classmates, mate. Especially not me or my crew got it?.” He turned, flipping his collar with an air of superiority, though there was a glint in his eye as he strode away. 

Charming watched him leave, shaking his head. Hook was dangerous—and not just because of the hook. There was something else there. Something he really needed to avoid.

But as he glanced back at his skateboard lying against the tree, the thought struck him: maybe, just maybe, Hook was exactly the kind of problem he needed. 

If he could bring Hook to the ball, that would surely get his parents off his back. Right? 

How would he ever get Hook to agree to that? He was really, really screwed.

🪝

Hook was seething. What a clueless little prince, he thought, his jaw clenched as he stormed through the academy's halls. Charming had to be the most oblivious royal he'd ever met. For someone so poised and charming, the prince had no idea how to navigate the real world. 

Not that Hook expected much more from royals—they were all so privileged, so sheltered, so painfully clueless. That’s what made them easy marks. Their money, their fine clothes, their trinkets—it was all just there for the taking, practically begging to be lifted.

But this? This was different. Hook’s pride was bruised more than anything. Charming had made him collide with the earth, of all things, and Hook wasn’t going to forgive the little prince for sullying his pristine, mint-condition vintage blazer. He cast a quick glance at the fabric—no visible damage, but that didn’t matter. The fact that it had touched the ground at all was an unforgivable offense. 

And worse, Hook knew his crew would never let him live this down if they found out. His reputation couldn’t take a hit like that, not when he had spent so much time cultivating it. He had to get his revenge. Teach the prince a lesson.

So, during storybook history class, Hook slipped out unnoticed. He snuck across the academy grounds to the royal dormitory— Full of one bed and customized rooms, unlike less privileged students. They weren’t allowed to deface their rooms and they had a roommate system. But Hook wasn’t complaining his roommate was pretty great.

But he wasn’t here to brood. No, he was here to act.

Charming’s dorm was up ahead, and Hook was relieved to see no sign of that bothersome butler Lionel. Of course, the little prince needs a servant to wait on him hand and foot, Hook thought, rolling his eyes. He always found it odd—off-putting, even—that Charming couldn’t go anywhere without a personal attendant. How soft and pampered could you get?

Hook approached Charming’s door, a sly grin spreading across his face. With a quick glance down the hallway, he slipped his golden hook into the lock, working it with practiced ease. Today, he was wearing his favorite hook—the golden one that added a touch of class to his ensemble. He’d have to be careful not to scratch it. The lock gave way with a soft click, and Hook pushed the door open, slipping inside.

The room smelled of expensive cologne, and everything was arranged perfectly. Typical royal. Hook sneered. He moved to the wardrobe, his eyes scanning the rows of pristine clothes. 

Charming had quite the collection—mostly royal-styled barongs and beige outfits, which made Hook wrinkle his nose. Beige? Ugh, he thought with disdain. Not his color at all. Where was the flair, the vibrancy? Not a single dark or deep color in sight. Charming had such a boring taste in clothes for someone so well-dressed.

Still, a theft was a theft. Hook rifled through the clothes, trying to find something worth taking. Surely the prince won’t miss a few pieces, he thought, tossing aside a particularly dull-looking beige tunic.

What Hook didn’t realize was how much time he’d spent browsing

But time had gotten away from him, and Hook hadn’t realized how long he’d been sifting through the prince’s belongings until he heard the unmistakable sound of the door opening behind him.

“Looking for something?” came a voice that was far too calm for Hook’s liking.

Hook froze, hand halfway through a drawer of silk cravats. Slowly, he turned around, his heart sinking as he locked eyes with Prince Charming standing in the doorway with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t expected to get caught—he never got caught.

Hook blinked, trying to regain his composure. “Ah skater boy,” he began, straightening up and smoothing his jacket. “This… is not what it looks like.”

Charming raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Really? Because it looks like you’re in my room rifling through my wardrobe.”

Hook swallowed, his mind racing for an excuse. He’d been in tight spots before, but this? This was a mess. “I was, uh… inspecting your clothing choices. Offering a little… constructive criticism, you might say,” Hook replied, flashing a crooked grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He wasn’t used to feeling this off-kilter. “No offense, mate, but 50 shades of tan and beige? Really?”

Charming’s expression remained neutral, though there was a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “And you thought breaking into my room was the best way to offer fashion advice?”

Before Hook could answer, Lionel appeared in the doorway, eyes wide as they flickered between the pirate and the prince. “Am I interrupting, sir? I didn’t expect a guest,” Lionel said, his voice a touch too polite, suspicion creeping in.

Charming, without losing his cool, glanced slightly over his shoulder at Lionel but didn’t shift his focus from Hook. “It’s fine, Lionel. Could you give us a moment?” His tone was dismissive but not unkind, the sort of royal command that left no room for argument.

"Of course, Your Highness," Lionel replied, a touch too formal as he bowed and quickly excused himself, but not without one last curious glance, probably wondering if he had just witnessed the beginnings of some lovers' quarrel. The door closed softly behind him.

The moment Lionel left, Hook let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He eyed Charming warily, wondering how much trouble he was in. He hated the feeling of being cornered, especially by a royal.

“So…” Hook began, his voice dripping with false confidence. “No need to make this a big deal, yeah? You’re not going to go crying to Merlin, are you?”

Charming’s lips curled into a small smile. “I’m not planning on it, no.”

Sweet relief washed over Hook, but it was short-lived as Charming took a step closer, his tone turning just a shade more serious. “But I can’t just let this slide either, can I?”

Hook swallowed, his bravado faltering for a moment. “I only did this after our little incident,” he blurted out, trying to regain control of the conversation. He gestured vaguely between them, referencing their earlier collision.

Charming tilted his head slightly, as if considering Hook’s words. “And you thought breaking into my room and raiding my wardrobe was the right way to even the score?”

Hook’s mind scrambled for a sweet escape. “Look you don’t need to turn me in,” he said, practically begging now.

Charming considered this for a moment, his gaze flicking over Hook’s disheveled form and the mess of clothes scattered around his room. Then, almost as if a thought occurred to him, his smile returned—this time, sharper. “Actually, I think I might have an idea. Meet me by the castleteria at dinner time.”

“A dinner? You’re not going to tell anyone about this?”

“No, not yet,” Charming replied, his voice smooth but tinged with mischief. “But if you don’t show up, then maybe we’ll reconsider the whole punishment thing.”

Hook’s stomach twisted. He hated feeling like he was at someone’s mercy, especially Charming’s. But something in the prince’s eyes told him this wasn’t just about revenge—it was about leverage. Hook didn’t know what Charming had in mind, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Still, he nodded, trying to regain his bravado. “Alright, Prince. Dinner date it is.”

Charming smirked, stepping aside to let Hook pass.

Hook left the room, heart still pounding, cursing himself under his breath. He’d been caught, and now, somehow, he was in too deep.

🪝

“Hook, what bullshit did you get into?” Uliana’s voice cut through the room like a whip, her tone sharp with irritation as she lounged on Morgie’s bed, her tentacles subtly shifting.

The five of them were crammed into Hook and Morgie’s shared dorm room, a small space that felt even smaller with Uliana’s dramatic presence filling the air. Hook, on the other hand, was sprawled lazily across his bed, legs crossed like he had not a care in the world, but deep down, his stomach churned with unease. 

Hook glanced at Uliana, who was tapping her nails against her belt buckle.. “Relax, Uliana. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Is it a date?” Morgie piped up, his eyes wide with genuine curiosity as he fiddled with a piece of parchment,

Hook scoffed. “Really, wizard-oo? That’s your question?” The brunnete pirate shot back, but he didn’t quite meet Morgie’s gaze, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. “It’s not a date, you idiot.”

“You didn’t deny it, Hook, so that means you’re going on a date with that royal eyesore,” Maleficent added with a sly smirk, reclining against the wall. She twirled a strand of dark hair between her fingers.

Hook sat up, trying to regain his composure, his golden hook glinting as he gestured wildly. “He’s got a little rebel streak in him, sure, but a date? With me?” Hook forced a laugh, but it came out a little too harsh. “He’s too soft for that.”

Hades, who had been lounging in the corner, arms folded and his fiery blue hair flickering lazily, chimed in with a smirk of his own. “I dunno, mate. You see those blue streaks he’s rocking these days? Kid’s got a little fire in him. You pick them well, James.”

What did the prince have in mind for him? Why had Charming asked him to meet at dinner? He was good at handling himself, but this was different. Royals had a way of twisting things to their advantage, and he wasn’t sure he’d come out on top this time.

Uliana’s tentacles flexed, her eyes narrowing. “This better not blow back on us, Hook. You get tangled up with that prince, and we’re all screwed. I’ve got enough on my plate without cleaning up your messes.”

Morgie, ever the optimist, gave Hook a hopeful smile. “Maybe it won’t be so bad? You two could, you know... find common ground?” He shrugged, completely oblivious to the heavy glares that Uliana shot his way.

Hook grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Trust me, I don’t belive in common ground I’m a pirate after all. The seas are what matter,” he muttered, but even as he said it, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Charming wasn’t as simple as he’d like to believe. Whatever the prince had planned, Hook had no choice but to play along—for now.

👑

Lionel watched as Charming’s fencing movements faltered, his usual grace replaced by distracted, half-hearted parries. The clanging of their swords echoed through the gymnasium, but the prince’s mind was clearly somewhere else.

“Sir—I mean, Christopher, what’s the worry face for?” Lionel asked, lowering his sword slightly, his tone a mix of concern with playful scolding. “Your mother would say frowning is terrible for the face.”

Charming winced and laughed, “Ouch. Thanks for that reminder, Lionel.”

Lionel tilted his head, eyeing the prince with the same scrutiny one might give a misbehaving child. “Having love problems, are we?”

Charming hesitated mid-lunge. “Sorta… kinda... undetermined.” He shrugged, trying to mask the uncertainty in his voice with nonchalance.

“I’ll try to make sense of that, sir,” 

Charming straightened up, tossing his sword onto the nearby rack. “I do have a problem,” 

“And what may that be, Your Highness?”

“I lied to my parents,” Charming confessed, running a hand through his streaked hair. “I told them I had someone to bring them for the ball, but... I have no one.”

Lionel gasped theatrically, hand flying to his chest in mock horror. “Oh dear! The end of the world!” 

Charming grinned, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t panic. I’ve got it under control. I think…”

“Is that why there was a handsome pirate rummaging through your wardrobe this morning?” he asked with a pointed look. “Is he part of your grand plan?”

Charming blinked, caught off guard. “He’s not that handsome,” he blurted out, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. Lionel’s amused smirk only deepened. Charming’s cheeks flushed. “I mean—he’s alright,” he backpedaled quickly, though Lionel’s knowing look said it all.

Lionel chuckled softly, tapping the flat of his sword against the ground. “What would your parents think of him, then? A pirate at the royal ball?”

“They did say every suitor in the kingdom that doesn’t exclude male or pirates. But they’d be terrified,” 

“And here I thought you were planning to bring a princess,” Lionel mused, shaking his head with fond exasperation.

“Well, ‘pirate’ does start with a P,” Charming quipped, unable to suppress his grin. “Might be close enough. Don’t ask for permission ask for forgiveness.”

“The ball’s happening no matter what, Christopher. Your parents are set on it,” Lionel reminded him, though there was no judgment in his voice. He was used to the prince’s antics by now.

Charming nodded, tossing his fencing jacket aside. “Yeah, well, might as well make it a little more exciting.” 

“If I’m going down, I’m going down singing.” The prince sang.

Lionel chuckled, stepping forward to ruffle the prince’s hair. “You’re always causing trouble. But… you're going to be fine, you always are.”

Charming laughed, a bit of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Thanks, Lionel.”

"Just... try not to start a royal scandal this time," 

"Can't make any promises," Charming shot back with a grin.

👑

The night had settled over Merlin Academy, and the castleteria was buzzing. On the lower level, students from various backgrounds sat together, some attempting to eat in peace while others whispered and laughed in tight-knit groups.

The second level, however, was a different story entirely—a separate, glass-enclosed space designed for royal students, a consequence of the infamous "Ariel incident" from freshman year. Uliana, the sea witch, had stirred up a food fight with the sophomore Little Mermaid herself,  (A girl her older sister bullied aswell)

which ended with food flying and a lot of egos bruised. Now, extra security stood guard, and Charming hated it.

It drained his social battery to be so isolated. He used to enjoy mingling, making polite conversation with his peers, but now he found himself perched in this sterile room, looking down at the rest of the academy through the glass window like he was in some kind of fishbowl. 

It didn’t help that Lionel, who usually provided some form of company, was off handling royal duties whenever it was mealtime. So Charming sat alone, poking at his food, waiting.

Well, not exactly alone. He was expecting someone. Or rather, a pirate . The word "victim" had crossed his mind, but that sounded too cruel, and blackmailee was just unpleasant. So, pirate it was.

Charming’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a scuffle outside the door. Voices—loud, irritated voices—drifted in, and he didn’t need to guess who it was.

“Let go of me! Easy on the coat!” came the familiar accent, sharp and indignant.

The guards were clearly manhandling Hook. Charming sighed, standing up from his seat and making his way to the door. He opened it just in time to see one of the guards tugging on Hook’s crimson coat, and Hook, true to form, looking royally pissed off.

“Stop it!” Charming barked, a little more forcefully than usual. “Let him go. He's with me.”

The two guards immediately released Hook, straightening up as they realized their mistake. One of them, the taller one with a stern face, glanced at Charming apologetically. “Apologies, Your Highness. We didn’t know he was—”

“Yeah, clearly,” Hook cut in, brushing off his coat like he’d just been dragged through the mud. “A real fine welcome, I must say.”

The other guard, younger and more nervous, muttered, “We thought he might’ve been here to, uh… cause trouble, Your Highness.”

Charming sighed, rubbing his temples. “He’s not here to cause trouble. I invited him.” He shot a look at Hook. “Sorry about the mix-up.”

Hook crossed his arms, glaring at the guards. “Way to go, Prince. You invite me, then forget to tell your people I’m coming. Real nice lad, aren’t you?”

Charming gave him a sheepish look, stepping forward and placing a hand on Hook’s shoulder—more of a placating gesture than anything. “I said I was sorry.”

Hook immediately shrugged off his hand, the familiar click of his hook against Charming's wrist. “Easy on the coat. You and your lot have already helped it deteriorate faster than it should.”

“Shall we?” he said, gesturing toward the table.

Hook huffed in response but said nothing, striding past the prince and into the dining area. His eyes scanned the lavish room, taking in the gleaming chandeliers, the velvet-lined chairs, and the royal setup. For a moment, Charming saw a flicker of appreciation cross his face—just for a second—before Hook’s usual facade of nonchalance slipped back into place.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Hook said, though the casual tone didn’t quite match the look in his eyes. “Bit excessive for a meal, don’t you think?”

Charming smirked, crossing his arms as he followed Hook inside. He could see through the pirate’s act. “If it hadn’t been for that food fight with Ariel and your friend during freshman year, none of this would’ve happened.”

“Yeah, well, she was pretty awesome for that.”

Charming rolled his eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Right. Let’s just sit and eat before you start a revolution in here too.”

They settled into their seats, a tense silence hanging between them. Charming could feel the weight of Hook’s gaze, sharp and calculating. This wasn’t some casual dinner. Both of them knew it, even if neither wanted to admit it.

The dinner had been silent for too long. Hook, never one to let tension sit without poking at it, decided to break it “So, what are your intentions, Your Highness? You’re a popular bloke around here. Getting lonely?”

Charming’s fork paused mid-air before he set it down, carefully. “I have friends.” His mind flickered to Aladdin and Jasmine, who often joined him for meals, bringing stories of their magic carpets adventures.

Then there were Ella and Bridget, after the two got together they always found time to drop by with baked treats—often enchanted with strange, unpredictable side effects, like turning his hair fully blue or making him float for a few minutes. 

Zelly, ever the life of the party, would bring her chameleon Pascal, and they’d all end up doing karaoke. After all, the royal dining area inexplicably had a karaoke machine tucked in the corner.

“So it’s not loneliness or complete boredom, why have me here?” Hook pressed.

Charming hesitated, trying to maintain a mysterious air. He knew Hook was too clever to show his cards too early. “I have something to ask,” was all he said, keeping his tone casual.

Hook leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips as he lounged in the velvet chair, clearly amused by the prince’s attempt at suspense. “What’s this all about, then? A royal invitation for little old me? You're not planning on throwing me in the dungeons after dessert, are you?”

Charming chuckled, though there was a hint of nervousness behind it. “No dungeons. Just… an arrangement.” He felt Hook’s guard go up instantly, the pirate’s smirk hardening into something more defensive.

“Arrangement?” Hook’s brow arched in mock curiosity, though there was no mistaking the sharpness in his tone. “What sort of arrangement would a prince want from moi ?”

“I need you to be my date,” Charming said, the words slipping out before he could fully gather his nerve. He paused, seeing Hook’s expression shift, and hurried to clarify, “Not in the traditional sense.”

Hook’s face didn’t change much. He leaned in slightly, his gaze sharp, like he was toying with a fish on a hook. “You went to so much trouble to impress me,” Hook said with snobbish amusement, “I’m flattered, but you’re not my type.”

Charming felt his face flush but pushed on. “My parents are throwing me this stupid ball, and I hate it. It’s all about me, and I just—” He suddenly found himself unraveling, words tumbling out in a rush. “I blurted out that I had a date, thinking it would stop them from pressuring me, but now it’s just worse, and I don’t know how to—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold your horses, Prince,” Hook interrupted with a bemused smirk, holding up his hand. “That’s a lot of whining for me.”

Charming blinked, startled by Hook’s bluntness. Somehow, those few words snapped him out of his spiraling rant. He let out an embarrassed laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders. For a second, he found himself thinking Hook looked oddly…kinda hot. 

The pirate, for all his snark, had an air of control about him that made Charming’s stomach twist in a way he didn’t quite understand.

But Hook was getting up, clearly looking like he was about to leave. He couldn’t let him just walk out, not after coming this far. Desperation flickered in his chest, and he scrambled for a last-ditch effort.

“Wait!” Charming stood quickly, his hand brushing against Hook’s arm as he reached out. “I haven’t told you the benefits yet.”

Hook paused, turning halfway with a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Alright. I’m listening.”

Charming exhaled, thinking quickly. “You’ll get lots of opportunities being seen with me. The ball is in two days. You won’t have to pretend for long. You’ll get to live lavishly, and you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone about your… thieving incident.”

Hook’s eyes flickered, but instead of biting, he turned fully away, stepping toward the door. Charming felt his heart sink. He'd blown it. This was going to be harder than he thought—time for Plan B, whatever that was.

Then, Hook stopped, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk that made Charming’s pulse quicken. “I’ll do it.”

“What?” 

“I said I’ll do it,” Hook repeated, turning fully now, his expression unreadable. “I’ll be your boyfriend. For rent, of course.”

Charming bristled slightly. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“Well, that’s the reality, babe,” Hook teased, the last word slipping off his tongue like a taunt. The prince stiffened at the word. He didn’t like the way it sounded coming from Hook’s mouth. Or maybe he liked it too much, and that was the problem.

“Fine, we’ll talk tomorrow, lay down the ground rules. We can discuss everything over breakfast.”

“Blah, blah, so boring. You don’t need so many pleasantries to fake-date me, you know. We’re not writing a treaty.”

Charming stepped closer, his face inching into Hook’s space. “I’ll pick you up in the morning. We’ll discuss the plan then.”

Hook gave him a mocking grin, eyes flicking down between them before meeting Charming’s gaze again. “You just love a good scheme and a meal, don’t you? That’s pathetic—and kinda cute, actually.”

Something inside Charming snapped at that last line. “Who are you calling pathetic?” he growled, stepping even closer until they were face to face.

Hook’s eyes danced with amusement, but there was something else beneath the surface, something unreadable. For a brief moment, they stood there in awkward silence, close enough to feel each other’s breaths, their hands grazing.

The bell rang suddenly, cutting through the moment and pulling them back to reality. Charming took a step back, clearing his throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked, his princely demeanor slipping back into place, though his voice was quieter than before.

Hook smirked, already slipping toward the door. “You know where to find me, Your Highness .”

Charming was still screwed how was he going to pull this sham? But he did make some progress he just hoped the pirate didn’t cause too much trouble.

👑

Notes:

Hope you enjoy the fic & Remember to give feedback!!! It is always appreciated. The fate of this fic is in y'alls hands its up to all of you whether this continues. (And if you reading this on tumblr. Thank you so much for giving this a read.)   Request go here on my tumblr.

[atisenia]

WIP game ask!

Fake relationship baggensheild

And

Hibernating hobbits(this is an actually really neat title imo)

No pressure though!

Hi! Thank you for asking! 😊

The thing about fake relationship bagginshield is that it mostly still exists only as a concept. Which is basically that Bilbo gets fed up with his coworkers' (Lobelia's) homophobic comments one day and blurts out that he has a boyfriend, so they (Lobelia) stop talking shit at least where he can hear it (it only half-works). Whenever they ask about it, Bilbo describes Thorin. And then the workplace organizes some event, and everyone is supposed to bring their significant other, and the coworkers (Lobelia) are already doubting the existence of this boyfriend, so if he doesn't bring him to the event, they'll know he's full of shit and probably make work hell, so in his desperation he does ask Thorin (who he may or may not have a crush on) to be his date, fully expecting to be rejected, but Thorin agrees immediately.

And apparently I started this story two separate times in different settings, but didn't even go far enough for Bilbo to actually ask Thorin in either of them. 😅

Anyway, here's a snippet from version 1:

The phone vibrated in Bilbo’s hand and he almost dropped it. His fingers shook as he turned it to see who was calling him, then his shoulders sagged with relief. Just Ori. “This isn’t a good time,” he said after picking up. “Have you done it yet?” Bilbo closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “No,” he muttered. Ori sighed. Bilbo could almost see him shake his head with disapproval. “Just call him, Bilbo, he’ll understand.” Bilbo clenched his jaw. “Really, Ori? Really?” he asked. “Would you be okay if some random person presented you as their boyfriend to his coworkers without your knowledge and then agreed to bring you to this stupid office party?” “It’s just bowling,” Ori said patiently. “No one will expect you to have sex on the lane.”

Then there's version 2:

Bilbo closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath, the napkin in his hand beyond salvation. This was a terrible idea. He should leave when he still had the chance, and then maybe text, or even call to apologize--- “Hello,” a familiar deep voice said next to him and Bilbo jumped with a yelp. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Thorin said with an apologetic smile as he sat at the table opposite Bilbo. His eyes fell on the remains of napkins and he frowned, smile dimming. “Is something wrong?” “Ah. Um.” Bilbo gathered all the torn paper napkins and squished them into a ball. He looked around for a place to throw it away, but in the end he just left it beside his plate. ���Yes. I mean, no. Nothing is wrong, I’m fine really, just... uh---” Bilbo threw a glance at Thorin, whose frown seemed to deepen with his every word. “I’ll take this.” Bofur appeared by their table and snatched the napkin ball, his eyes full of glee. “What can I get you, gentlemen?”

As for hibernating hobbits, well, it's not really the title. It doesn't have a title yet. But I do have it fully drafted, it just needs a rewrite and some edits. I've seen several fics with this concept, but was mostly inspired by Winter's Call by @teaxdragon, with a bit of a spin. Here's a fragment:

“What happened to you?” he asks before he can stop himself, and his heart aches. Bilbo looks terrible. He should have gained back the weight he’d lost on their quest, but he’s even thinner now, barely more than skin and bones. His clothes look baggy on him, especially around the middle where there’s little left to fill them. There are dark shadows under Bilbo’s eyes, stark against the sickly pallor of his skin. “You did,” Bilbo says, and his words pierce Thorin’s chest more viciously than Azog’s blade. It’s the least he deserves. “You showed up in my smial with tales of a lost home and a promise of an adventure, and-and now I can’t sleep in my own dratted house!” Thorin can only stare at Bilbo in puzzlement. He feels like he’s missed a turn on a familiar road and can’t figure out how to find it again. “You can’t… sleep?” Thorin says after a moment of stunned silence, hoping it would steer the conversation back into more familiar territory. “Exactly!”

Cue Thorin being a giant ball of angst, as always.