#piper x you fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mooncleaver · 2 years

Text

Gold Rush

ღ a story of how your life changed after meeting a beautiful boy bathed in gold.

ღ pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader

ღ warnings: fluff and angst! (n many typos.. sorry i didn't proofread that much bye)

now playing ⇝ how deep is your love by bee gees

masterlist !

'bad' would be a euphemism for the day that percy jackson had today.

he was on his way home with a sluggish drag in his steps, exhausted to the bone when some jackass almost hit him on the street twice. he was just trying to cross the road, for goodness sake. then on a—thankfully on every mortal's part—desolate alley, a dracanae decided to stop by and say hello, which of course he was going to fight it off.

and that led to now, with percy releasing a breathe that held a thousand burdens as he pushed the glass doors to an unfamiliar café down the street. there was a kind, inviting chalk board out at the front that spelled out "blueberry scone special :D", and he prays that this piece of pastry would be his salvation for this day. usually, he was pretty good at avoiding the disintegrated remains of the monsters after he killed them, but it just had to blow all over him on this day. he looked like one of those pretentious statues displayed on olympus. riptide was left hanging limply from his grip and he hoped the mist made it look at least normal.

the smell of rich coffee and a galore of baked good aromas shocked his senses when he entered the café, the bell above him singing out melodiously. it was almost everything all at once, the roasted tang of coffee beans, the pungent savor of cinnamon, the yeasty smell of bread and remnants of margarine that gave him a warm feeling inside his stomach. he almost took a double-take when he stepped onto the threshold. maybe it was his rest-deprived self acting out, or maybe it was his ravenous stomach speaking for itself, but percy thought this might just be the best impression of a café he's had in new york.

thankfully, the cashier was a lovely lady that greeted him with a bright chipper in her voice. percy smiled back tiredly at her, appreciating the glimmer of kindness that made his day just a little bit more bearable. after finishing his order off with a promising looking pastry and a warm cup of tea—not forgetting to bring home some extra for his mom, paul and estelle—, he headed over to the waiting line right at the corner of the shop, a minimally tinted glass window and the walnut counters caging the space to his right. percy was left in a droning stupor as he waited for his order, so much so that he didn't realize when someone stepped right beside him, asking a question that made his heart jolt with sudden adrenaline.

"do you usually walk around covered in gold while carrying a sword, or is it a special occasion?"

percy turned his head around so fast he almost had a whiplash.

the words nearly died in the back of his throat when he saw you. you looked so.. divine. he was questioning the existence of angels at the sight of you.

you were standing there with a gorgeous smile on your face, a linen bag hanging around your shoulders as you peered at him with a gaze that he thought was so acute. he didn't know if he was seeing things out of exhaustion.. but you were absolutely glowing. percy was practically gaping at you, both shocked at the fact that you could see through the mist and that you were just so breathtaking. he didn't even have the time to revert his sword back to its pen form, much less do anything about his.. glittery issue.

dam.. how was he supposed to answer your question? percy was sure it took a few seconds—minutes, even—for him to finally respond, feeling like a dang fool in love.

"my uh- my sister, just had a birthday party..?" he said it like he wasn't even sure about his answer, wincing slightly while he awkwardly stood there.

you only laughed at his response. he looked positively alarmed at the prospect of confrontation; his eyes were wide and his body tensed right in front of your eyes. you got the feeling that he wasn't telling the truth, but it was fun to play along with it. we all have our secrets anyways. "okay.. sure." you bit your lip to hold back the laugh that threatened to jump out of your lips.

"then, happy birthday to your sister." you tilted your head, eyebrows raised in clear amusement, the pearly whites of your teeth peeking through your lips.

the breathe of relief he let out looked almost comical to you. "yeah- thanks." he replied sheepishly, coughing out and rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, a blooming carmine hue kissing the expanse of his cheeks. it peeked through the collars of his shirt, too; you thought it was so adorable.

you took this moment to take a good look at the boy in front of you. he was handsome, there was no doubt about that. he had dark, sable hair that barely reflected the sun rays from the corner windows, a tall and fairly built body—you were sure he had muscles under that shirt he wore, you bet on it—, sun-kissed, bronzed skin that seemed to shimmer under the light. and it wasn't just because he had glitter sticking to him. but the most captivating thing about him were his eyes. his tempestuous eyes that seemed to glisten like turquoise liquor beneath the luminescence, intoxicating and bewitching by the way that it flickered with emotions that mirrored the currents of the sea. you've never seen anyone with irises quite like these before, and oh how they were a sight for sore eyes.

although, somewhere in the back of your head you swore you've seen him before..

"are you new around here? if i ever saw a stranger bathed in gold before, i know i would've noticed." you nudged his side with your elbows. you did realize how it was sort of weird that virtually no one besides you in this café even took a second glance at the boy. how could someone covered in golden dust while carrying a literal sword be unnoticeable. you deduced it as the people not caring how others presented themselves. you hoped that it was only a prop, though the sharp glint that slithered all the way down the bronze metal has doubts sprouting in your mind. you totally did not just disregard the weird situation he was in because he was cute.

"mhm, just a new yorker exploring new york." he chuckled and you couldn't help but admire him one more time.

"feels like you can never look around a corner without seeing somethin' new." percy finished it off with a shrug, body glittering slightly as the light reflected on the amber dust.

"agreed."

it was only a few peaceful seconds when the barista called out your order, effectively gaining the both of your attentions. 'coffee for y/n!'

y/n. so that was your name. it was beautiful, just like you.

he watched as you stepped forward, taking the drink from the barista's hands and thanking them with that beautiful smile again that shined like diamonds, walking to his direction.

"maybe i'll see you around here again stranger. and next time, you owe me your battle story. see ya, my knight in golden armor." you patted his shoulder and it gave him a whiff of your sweet perfume that had him closing his eyes in bliss. from a passing gale of wind it smelt like soft oriental: creamy and sweet with vanilla and cinnamon. but then it lingered around him to lay bare something much more opulent and smooth, like aromatics with a subtle sprinkle of warm spices. there was not another scent that was so unique to you, he thought.

and just like that you were out those double doors, the bells ringing above you and he couldn't help but gape at what just happened. he wasn't even able to stop you from walking away because his mind was still processing these events that seem to happen faster than he could comprehend. this was certainly a sudden rush from his stagnant day.

'next time'? oh he sure was visiting this café again tomorrow.

ii.

that was how his weeks turned out; he would come to the café at the same time everyday, hoping to see your darling face again. sometimes he'd come late after some type of demigod detour, and percy would be lying if he said the relief and clear happiness on your face when he finally showed up didn't make butterflies flutter in his chest. conversations with you felt too easy; it was like the two of you had known each other for the longest time.

there was this place near the windows of the shop that you'd always sit at, where the high-chairs and the mahogany table faced the streets of new york. the workers even came to recognize when the two of you visited, one of them always saving that place for you. sure, it may be a little transparent to the outside, but it was the perfect spot because of how the sunrays would always highlight your supple skin, beaming on the apples of your cheeks and making your eye color glow underneath the heavens. you looked as if you took apart of the sun with you because every time you laughed, you shined brighter than anything. (percy thought apollo was doing him a favor—being his wingman—but that thought didn't seem too plausible. the cocky god wouldn't be up all in his business... right?)

gods, your laugh. don't even get him started with it. percy loved your laugh; it was the prettiest sound ever. out of every achievement he's made, him being the cause of your laughter was on the top of that list. defeating kronos couldn't even come close.

it was the same exact thing on your end. you were praying and hoping that you'd meet the pretty stranger again when you came to your favorite café. he's been the highlight of your life for the past few weeks; everything was so natural with him. he was awkward and sometimes clumsy.. but he was so charming and loving in a way that made you feel like you could spend forever with him. when you got to know him, it was like seeing the absolute best of someone. he had this funny, sort of niche kind of humor and a smooth voice that you couldn't get over. percy was fun, lighthearted and sarcastic; he was the guy of your dreams. he had even started walking you back to the bus stop whenever you had to leave, claiming that it was the gentlemanly thing to do. you would say that was a solid development in your relationship.

and that was how he had officially asked you out on a date. new york was just as busy as it was, cars zooming past the two of you while you walked down the street by that one avenue with the bent sign-pole. there was something in the air this time though—maybe love, but it had always been there since you met him.

your hands brushed each other's when passing through the crowd, making you hide your smile while you looked down to the pavement. if you were given the chance, then hell, you were going to take it. so you grabbed onto his hands gently, lacing your fingers through his and it felt like a spark travelled up all the way tp your heart when he squeezed your hand back in response.

it was only when you arrived at the bus stop that he started fidgeting a lot more than usual, focusing his gaze anywhere but at your direction. you noticed that he started scratching the back of his head and twiddling with his fingers, signaling that he was feeling anxious and restless.

when he finally looked up at you expectant gaze, you saw something akin to hope in his eyes.

"would you uh- wanna go out with me? to the café?"

that was it, that was the moment you'd been waiting for, for what felt like your whole life.

"haven't we already been doing that, perce?" you had a teasing smile on your face, wanting to gouge a flustered reaction out of him and gods percy had to look away for a moment because it just felt too much. the fact that you even used that nickname that made him feel weirdly good on the inside. he wanted to puke and shout at the same time.

"well, yeah, but not like that. i meant-" he swallowed, and you decided to finally put him out of his misery and aim for the point right then and there.

"on a date?"

percy looked like a deer caught in headlights, iridescent eyes widening as he slowly said the words, "..yeah, on a date."

"okay." you said, hugging the bag in your hands tighter.

"okay?"

the expression on his face made you want to laugh. there was that signature cerise flush again on his face, and his eyes were stuck so wide it looked like he'd just taken a glimpse of medusa. it was like he couldn't believe what was happening right now. "mhm." you nodded with a pep.

you wanted so bad to stay there and talk with him, tease him more about the fact that he had finally asked you out on an official date, but the bus had already arrived, headlight flickering while it waited for new passengers to hop in.

"ill see you on our date tomorrow, loverboy." and you were suddenly walking up the stairs of the bus, door closing too fast behind you and he didn't get the chance to even reply, too caught up in his own happiness to do anything quick. this gave him major dejavu; it was just like what happened the first time he met you.

'she said yes..' he muttered to himself, staring at the cement walkways with a gaze so intense that it could burn a hole through it. you actually said yes to a date with him. percy honestly thought all the shit he was introduced to as a demigod was easier to believe than this.

it took a few seconds for the conversation to finally dawn to him, and when it did, oh boy did he want to scream at the world about how he was the happiest man alive. he did a small fist pump in the air followed by a cute shimmy to celebrate his win. it was slightly embarrassing, but percy didn't care. he got the girl.

well, he's got you from the first conversation you had, but he didn't really need to know that right now.

iii.

you would say that loving percy jackson was gratifying, euphoric and.. unique. you'd never call loving him difficult though. you noticed that more than a few times, he'd be quite secretive about some aspects of his life. whenever you asked him where he went for summer, or where he got that scar on his hand, or why he'd look so alert when you went out, he always gave you vague answers. it was frustrating sometimes that you didn't know where he went or where he came from looking so exhausted like that, but you thought maybe he wasn't ready to tell you about his endeavors. it was more worry than anger that you felt. you trusted him though, from your time of being his partner. he was loyal and protective, always being so compassionate and considerate when it came to you, you were sure he wouldn't do anything to purposely hurt you. you just hoped he didn't run some kind of underground criminal organization or something.

the day percy decided to tell you everything about his "other life"—as you referred to it sometimes—the two of you were lounging on his couch, binging a romcom show that you couldn't remember the name of as you sat on his lap, body placed sideways while you ran your hands through his hair absent-mindedly.

you didn't exactly know what had led up to this, but one moment you were talking to him and the next he was asking you to 'not freak out', because he was going to tell you something.

he was fidgeting with his fingers again, hand brushing up the curve of your waist while you looked at him earnestly. "so.. greek mythology is real."

percy paused after he said that, watching as you seemed to freeze after hearing that information, face scrunching up into a suspicious gaze littered with slight disbelief. he continued his confession anyways, hoping that if he ripped the band aid off faster you'd take it in better.

"all those gods, goddesses, legends and creatures—all real. remember the gold dust i was covered in when we first met? well that's monster goo. you know, from fighting and killing em' off. mortals aren't supposed to see it like that though, 'cuz we have this veil called 'the mist' that messes with their sight—it disguises anything and everything to do with ancient greek business into normal things. but, on special circumstances like you, sweets, you can see through the mist."

well that was one hell of an explanation. your mind was whirring with everything he just said to you, completely changing the trajectory of your thoughts. greek mythology.. is real? how? when? he kills monsters? there was too much to think about, too much to ask.

"and.. you're able to do all that crazy stuff because you can also see through the mist..?"

he scratched his head again, contemplating how he should approach this crucial part of himself. "urhm.. not exactly."

"i'm kind of half a god. well the proper term is 'demigod', and my dad's poseidon."

half god? poseidon's son? you didn't want to believe it at first.. but the chances of it being true kept increasing as you thought back about all the strange things that you'd encountered about him. the way he seemed to have a deep affinity with water; you even saw him playing with a cup of water once, making it form different shapes, but you dismissed that thought as the effects of extreme sleep deprivation, the way he'd know strangely personal facts about the gods and goddesses, acting as if he'd actually met them. you honestly thought he was just a greek nerd who liked to swim.

"woah.. you- you're serious?" was all you could mutter, eyes blown wide.

"yup." there was a pregnant pause after his one-word response, the tension in the air so palpable it was almost suffocating.

your striking voice was the sound that broke the atmosphere, so strong and convicting that it would've honestly scared him if he wasn't your boyfriend. "prove it."

"i mean.. i can talk to fish? you've seen me do that, right? what else kind of proof would you want?" percy was referring to that one time you visited the aquarium, seeing him talk to one of the fishes in the large glass tanks, asking how a hammerhead, or "john" as he claimed its name was, was doing.

he was talking to the shark about his daughter and the aquatic economy, how did he expect you to believe he wasn't just fooling around?

"i don't know! you should part the ocean in half or something!" you slapped his arm, so taken aback at how he was sitting so calmly in front of you. it elicited a defensive response out of him as he held both his hands up in surrender, finally caving in to your frantic request.

"..don't think i could do that right now, but maybe this will convince you?" he started as he held his hands up and you would've voiced out your concern if it weren't the flow of water that seemed to appear, meandering its way from the ceramic mug that was placed on the coffee table near you.

this was real. not a dream, not a party trick.

you couldn't help but breathe out a faint whisper of 'nice' at the show of power.

you don't know why this was the immediate thing you said, but you just blurted out the first thing that popped inside your mind. "so you're like.. like- sharkboy!"

"sharkboy?" percy couldn't help but throw his head back while he laughed. out of all the nicknames he's been called, sharkboy is definitely a new one. (and maybe one of his favorites. but only because you said it.)

at this point you were fully facing him now, somehow straddling his lap in the middle of your shock-ridden stupor. he rested his hand on your waist, pulling you closer. "if i'm sharkboy then you'll be my lavagirl, right?" he asked, looking at you through his lashes.

the situation was just so overwhelming that it was almost humorous.

you planted your face into his shoulders trying to stop the farcical laugh. "of course, you goof."

and the questions didn't end there that night. this revelation has you catechizing your entire existence. you were practically interrogating him about anything and everything that came up to the top of your head.

"so you're saying i haven't been hallucinating this whole time?" you were remarking to the weird creature with scales, boring yellow eyes and bared fangs you'd catch a glimpse of sometimes in the subway or in the bus, but you thankfully always stayed away because you thought they were way too weird. turns out your gut feelings were right because you would've put yourself at risk for danger.

"mhm."

"and- and there are others, too? just like you?" the thought of other demigod children existing amongst you felt mind-blowing. it was like the impossible was tangible.

"yeah, baby. we gotta whole bunch of 'em at camp." percy smiled crookedly, looking very glad. he raised on of his bristling brows next, citing out the rest of his thoughts. "plus, the romans also exist." he did not just drop another bomb off so casually like that.

"ROMAN GODS ARE REAL TOO?!"

your voice was echoing with so much incredulity that he thought his neighbors could hear it.

percy noticed how much he laughed and smiled throughout the night and he couldn't help but feel so relieved at the fact that you were still with him, right here, right now. he was so glad that his father's side of the family didn't freak you out in a stay-away-from-me-forever type of way. you were more.. intrigued and bewildered rather than repulsed. percy thought it was funny that you were asking all these almost ludicrous questions.

it all seemed to pass in a lively blur, although, there was one highlight about your conversation, and it made percy laugh all over again every time he thought about it.

the night was finally quiet after that ruthless question and answer session, with the both of you in your own heads thinking about what percy had just revealed. you were looking back to the first time you met him, how his face looked so familiar. after he told you about all this greek mythology information, your mind seemed to put two and two together, finally putting a finger onto where exactly you've seen this boy before.

"what? why're you staring at me like that?" he chuckled, smiling in curious confusion at your sudden change of face. you were frozen like a marble statue, practically scrutinizing him while you squinted your eyes like you were trying to figure him out. percy couldn't help but swipe away the wisps of hair that framed your voice, coiling it away while you were in this thinking state. when you finally made a move in the middle of the silence, he almost flinched at the precipitous motion. after that a-ha moment, it was like you had all the knowledge in the entire world inside your little head. you'd slapped a palm over your mouth, face shocked while your hands hid the blasphemous gasp that escaped your lips.

"dude! i know where i've seen you before. you were the one that blew up the gateway arc! percy there was a literal manhunt after you!" he just kept on surprising you tonight. your mouth was gaping in disbelief as you clutched onto his collars with a mighty grip, pulling his face towards yours. you looked a little funny like that.

"that's the life of a demigod i guess." he shrugged it off. he just shrugged off blowing up a 630-foot national monument. whether you wanted to slap him or kiss him, you didn't know.

iv.

percy knew that you wanted to meet his friends someday. you mentioned it to him casually a couple times and he of course was going to introduce you to them. over the course of time, the seven became apart of his family. especially annabeth,—who he had a feeling was going to tear him apart for keeping you away from her—he considered her as one of the closest and most important people in his life.

he wanted to show you his world, all the beautiful and bittersweet parts, because that's what made him, him. once he got over that initial fear, he knew that there was always more space in his heart, in his family. it would be another step to opening up about himself after the first milestone, like putting together the best of both worlds.

percy wanted to show you camp half-blood too, it was like his second home away from his mother.

at this point, you'd been dating percy jackson for roughly a few months; time seemed to pass by so fast when you were enjoying it. the whole reveal he did was only a couple nights ago, and he decided that it was probably time you actually got to see the real thing, to experience his lovely and chaotic life.

that day came in the middle of summer break, when the blistering sun was in its peak and the air whistled beneath the bustling happiness that came from folks all around.

he'd planned this for the past couple days, hoping that everything would flow smoothly. it should be pretty easy, get you in the camp, meet his friends, hang out for a bit and go back home.

the two of you took the chb van and percy thought it would be easier on you if he just drove instead of getting argus; the large hundred-eyed man was quite a thing to get used too.

you were nervous, but so excited. it was gratifying to know you'd see in person the manifestation of myths you thought were only stories, see its legacy and most importantly, see this part of your boyfriend.

you didn't know what to expect of the camp. was it going to be full of marble and gold? heaps of eternal light flooding the buildings that housed the children of the gods, or was it down to its gritty form, like a battlefield surrounded by flaming torches and the clashing of ingot. percy told you that it was just like any other regular camp, expect with training courses, a lava wall, pegasi, a centaur named chiron and a wine god who supervised the camp. totally normal like other summer camps, right?

bountiful strawberry fields greeted your vision when you arrived at the location, greens, reds and fuchsia spanning miles on end till the looming horizon. it was distorted at first, like a thin veil covering some spots of the area. then it started to fade away, washing out like dust to reveal a diamond underneath. you couldn't help but tighten your arms around percy's, breathing in the sight of the vine-laden alabaster columns, wearing the words 'camp half-blood'.

camp half-blood was definitely easy on the eyes. it really was what percy had told you—like a normal camp apart from the mythological aspects of it. it was easy to love, too. just from the first glance you could taste how pleasant the air was and how lively the place seemed. there were rows of cabins that exuded a charm of its own, all bearing signature symbols and colors that represented the god or goddess they were housing. they all ranged in variety, looking like a rainbow. you saw one that had blaring crimson walls, ruckus emanating from behind them, barbed wires and spears planted around it. you could only assume this was the war god's children's cabin. there was one that was a blinding gold, and everyone that stood around the cabin looked as if they'd been kissed by the sun—not that they were golden, no, but they had this warm glow radiating off of them, you couldn't explain it really. and was that a cabin that looked like a factory?

that was only one glimpse of the camp. you couldn't forget the silky sparkle that ran through the pegasi's mane while you saw them soaring above you, or the florid, flaxen eyes that peeked from the surface of the lake.

while you were star-struck viewing the camp, percy took this chance to softly drag you to the dining pavilion where he saw the familiar outline of his friends lounging on one of the seats.

the group were all in their own worlds, talking to each other or gazing out on the camp to enjoy the sunny day. the moment percy held an unfamiliar girl in his arms and walked towards them, they grew silent as they stared in confusion. were you a new demigod? they'd never seen you before. and even though the camp had grown in size considerably, it was not hard to recognize the people in it. they were quite a tight-knit community. and it was easy to know your fellow folks when you've gone to war and bloodsheds together.

annabeth already held a calculative look on her face, trying to figure out who your godly parent was. you were beautiful, there was no denying. she would've thought you were one of aphrodite's or at least have some type of lineage to the goddess.

she had a fierce and determined expression on her face and you thought she was intimidating like that, but you knew she was a good soul and a good friend. percy has told you so much about her, it made you so happy to finally meet annabeth in person.

you heard percy greet his friends, his arms never leaving the small of your back. it brushed your back every now and then, providing you a sense of comfort and intimacy in your nervous haze. embarrassing or not, you could already tell who was who; you had a good imagination like that. plus, with the way percy talked fondly about them, it was not hard to distinguish between the group.

"who's that? a long lost sister we never knew about, jackson?" the question snapped you out of your reverie, and you stared at the boy who asked the question. he had cropped golden hair and electric blue eyes, you guessed this was jason. everybody seemed to laugh at that, like they understood an inside joke. of course, the thunder god's son was clueing to percy's half-brother, tyson the cyclops.

percy smiled at jason's words, having a playful glint in his eyes. he was almost smirking, even, knowing how smug he was going to feel after he answered the question.

"nah, this is my girlfriend."

indeed, your boyfriend had a proud crooked upturn on his lips as he watched his friends eyes widen and snap towards him and then to you. confusion, shock, curiosity, you felt the prickling stares of everyone on your body. you just gave them that sweet smile of yours and waved your hand genially, and you saw the boy with the curly brown hair—leo, you figured—wave back at you while his mouth was still gaping open.

piper had a surprised expression on her face, but it quickly turned into a knowing look. she knew there was something up with percy. he has recently been a lot more carefree and happy. she noticed the way he would space out sometimes, often softly smiling at nothing. as the daughter of the goddess of love among other things, piper could easily read a person's emotions, and she knew the expression of someone madly in love all too well.

when the situation finally dawned on her, annabeth made her way next to percy and straight up gave him a sweet sucker punch on the arm for not telling her about you, eliciting a frantic amalgamation of 'ow's and 'im sorry!'s', from the boy. that seemed to bring them all back to reality.

leo started to smile, coming back to his playful nature as he broke the silent atmosphere. "damn! you've been hiding this pretty lady all this time?"

percy subconsciously winded his arm around your waist even more, frowning at what leo said. "hey,"

it was all in good fun though, he knew that.

you spent the whole day getting to know them and exploring the camp. you were given a special tour because you were their 'esteemed guest' as leo had called you. not one inch of the grounds were unexplored. you tracked all different places from the cabins, the lake, the lava wall, the hall, the weapon shed, the big house and rachel's cave. from the short time of hanging out, you got to know each one of them well, figuring out their quirks and traits which became more apparent once you paid deep attention to the group's dynamics. after finding out that jason, hazel and frank hailed from the roman gods, you were positively ecstatic. questions were bring thrown at them by you, all about what the roman camp looked like, how their culture differed and how they fought; it didn't seem like they minded it though.

at one point you even convinced them to show you what they could do. you watched in deep fascination as leo conjured up a small ball of fire on his palms and you admired jason when he summoned his imperial gold gladius with a spark of lighting accompanying it. you saw frank shift into different animals and hazel telling you about her ability to sense and summon precious metal, refraining from actually doing it as she was worried something wrong might happen with the cursed gems. when piper showed you her charmspeak, you couldn't help but shiver slightly. that was a powerful ability to have. love was just as dangerous as it was beautiful.

annabeth too showed you her cabin which housed all her research material, camp game strategies and quest achievements; it was amazing to see a person being able to do all of this. she was someone you could easily look up to. you saw the way she was dedicated and ambitious but above all, how she chose love despite every challenge that was thrown at her.

at the end of that fruitful day, they'd asked you to come with them to the campfire, enjoying the afternoon glow die down. you made close friends already with the girls, especially annie. percy was sat across you with the boys, joking and smiling around with no care in the world. you found yourself disappointed at the idea of leaving. the seven—who you now gladly called your friends—were one of the most welcoming people you've known. it didn't matter if you weren't a demigod, they accepted you without a single hesitation.

"i realize we never asked but, who's your godly parent?" piper was sat next to you, offering an easy smile while she asked you a question. the way the flames made her kaleidoscope eyes glow and how the light would catch onto the browns of her braided hair... you didn't understand how she looked so amazing all the time. you guessed it came with being aphrodite's kid, but piper had this effortless beauty, it was hard not to stare at her.

you laughed nervously. it caught up to you now that you hadn't actually told them you had no godly parent. you just had so much fun that it never really registered. "oh! um actually.. i'm not a demigod. new york blood through and through." you scratched the back of your neck, eyes squinted while you chuckled quietly. annabeth couldn't help but think that you looked like percy. she guesses you'd rub onto each other a lot at already.

"so that's how he kept you a secret," the blonde mused, impressed that percy managed to do the above for a considerably long period of time.

"gods knows he would've spilled it within the first week." she joked, making the group of girls laugh because they knew it was true.

you spent the evening telling stories about the (not so) mundane life of dating percy jackson and they exchanged it by telling you tales of their own, most of them about your boyfriend's antics and shenanigans during quests or any day at camp. you found a sense of normalcy talking about him, even if it felt like you came from different lives. the the best of both worlds, truly.

at some point you felt a pair of eyes burning the side of your head, turning only to find your love attempting to catch your gaze. he was pouting slightly and tried to approach you but the girls blocked him, telling percy that this was a girls-only kind of occasion. you knew you'd be nursing his very serious heartbreak later on..

listening about their quests and adventures only increased your admiration ten fold. the fact that they've gone through all those trials and tribulations and were still smiling has you absolutely floored. you almost had multiple heart attacks hearing the shit percy pulled and experienced, but you were just glad that he and the rest survived—battered, but survived.

"you guys are just so incredible and special! i feel so.. mortal now." and it wasn't like you were trying to bring yourself down. it was simply the truth. to think that these teenagers had gods and goddesses as one of their parents; it was something you didn't think you'd ever get used to.

annabeth replied to you, smiling slightly while she leaned backwards, propping her body weight on both of her arms. the thought of her best friend managing to find someone like you made her heart happy. you'd take care of percy well. "well if you got someone like seaweed brain to admit his love for you, i'm sure you're a pretty damn special girl."

the two of you went home feeling fulfilled and happily tired that night. it had been an absolute pleasure to be introduced to percy's friends. you couldn't hold back the smiles that often threatened to decorate your face on the way back home. every time you closed your eyes you were reminded of the laughter and joy you were surrounded by. it was like a grand relief, a blazing light at the end of the tunnel just knowing that you had more to appreciate in life, more to look forward to when melancholy greeted you like an old friend.

the bathroom's fluorescence laminated your skin, moonlight hidden away behind the walls of the place you found yourself calling home. it was not the apartment really, but more the people you'd gotten to know and love. home was wherever they were. home was wherever he was.

"they're really sweet, perce." you smiled tiredly at you boyfriend, leaning against the freckled terracotta sink after you finished your nightly routine. he was standing there cutely with a small beard of foam trying to escape his lips, a toothbrush obscuring his speech.

"yeah?" percy's voice sounded muffled as he turned to your direction, quickly going back to his business and washing away the paste that filled his lips so he could talk to you properly.

"mhm,"

"i would love to meet up with them again sometime.." a yawn escaped your lips right after you said that, urging you to come back to the comfort of your bed. the lavender incense lit on the counter didn't help either; the smoke that travelled in circling clouds around the room only served as a silent lullaby for your hazy mind. percy thought you were so precious right now. you were in your comfy pajamas, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes so you could wait for him, but you seemed to surrender to the temptation at the end.

you pressed a fleeting kiss to his cheeks, turning away as you told him, "'m heading to bed now, come back quickly 'kay?"

"i will, sweets." he watched you walk away into the darkness that enveloped the hallway, chuckling breathlessly. the pure happiness he felt after today was something he could never forget. seeing the way you bonded with his friends made his heart swell a thousand times, it made him feel so relieved that he could fully be himself in front of you, talk about his demigod life and find comfort within your arms. he could lay bare his heart in front of you knowing that you understood where his pain came from.

the mirror in front of him glinted faintly, calling out his name and he looked up to see the percy jackson that existed right now. this version of him that was scarred and hurt, the one that saw and felt horrifying things beyond what anyone should ever have to know. the percy who had a marred soul and broken eyes. but he also saw this version of him that knew what it was to love and be loved, this version of him who'd been cradled in the arms of devotion. the percy who had people that helped him pick up the pieces of his heart and mended it together. the same people who brought back that light inside his eyes, now beaming so brilliantly that it could rival the sun.

percy jackson knew tragedy and pain, but with that came hope and love. because living is so much more than surviving. there will always be a spark in the abyss, people who come along the way to light the path, too. and sure, he will lose some, but then again percy jackson had more space in his heart than anyone. it took a long time for him to realize he deserved a chance to truly experience life beyond his incommodious written fate, to accept the love he's so deserving of. it's okay to fall sometimes. to feel fear of losing everything you have. because at every wake of dawn is a new chance, and everyone deserves to live again, not just survive.

LOOORD HELP ME I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN AND WRITING ABOUT HIM. hopefully the formatting of this fic was okay! small confession, i've not been feeling my writing all that well recently. i feel like i've strayed away from that dramatic, imagery poetry-esq style i used to do. i don't know, my stuff hasn't felt 'complete' in a long time. maybe i just need to write angst again

but anyways, i just finished watching s1 of kakegurui, it's so good! yumeko is already my fav, what a queen.

895 notes · View notes

ya9amicide · 8 months

Text

♡ percy jackson masterlist ♡

pov: your camera roll if you were dating piper mclean.

#𐙚 sfw !#piper mclean #piper mclean aesthetic #piper mclean fic #piper mclean fanfiction #piper mclean fluff #piper mclean x reader #piper mclean x you #piper mclean x y/n #percy jackson aesthetic #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfiction #pjo aesthetic #pjo fanfiction #pjo fic #camera roll fic #camera roll fanfiction

52 notes · View notes

cabinofimagines · 2 months

Text

Pipabeth's ABCs

I would ask the anon to ask a lil more politely next time, but then again it did take a year and some to get to. Welp, not getting paid anyways. Pairing: Poly!Pipabeth x reader, Piper Mclean x reader x Annabeth Chase Request: could you write pipabeths ABCs if you already haven't thank Warnings: None Word count: 2k - Asnyox

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Both Annabeth and Piper really enjoy being active together, and love to take you with them. Whether it's training, a hike, or visiting an architecturally cool building or monument. Piper tends to whip out the more 'childish' activities- going to a playground or doing silly crafts, while Annabeth tends to prefer going to museums. And what do you bring to the table? That's up to you of course.

Beauty - What do they admire in their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Neither Piper or Annabeth have ever considered physical beauty as the most important in a person. Piper did at first consider how you looked, but it was quickly outshined by the kindness you showed to those around you. Annabeth tends to fall more for the moments of unconventional beauty- you waking up, safe in her arms, or after a fight, both Piper and you dirty. You couldn't be more beautiful than in those moments.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Both of your girlfriends are amazing at comforting you, Annabeth has years of experience in dealing with bad emotions and Piper has learned a trick or two, not to mention her charmspeak working wonders. Although she has realized that charmspeak tends to not have you deal with your feelings, so they would come back later.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Piper and Annabeh have rather differing dreams- Piper wishes to be free of responsibility and image, free to go whenever and travel around as long as she can. Annabeth wishes to make something permanent, because even if her suffering is forgotten, her buildings would never be. But, neither has taken the initiative to talk about it, they are aware that they clash, but for now being together is enough. Where the relationship fits in their own dreams they do not know yet, and they are scared to figure it out.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Annabeth likes being in control, she knows what she wants and how to get there. Piper is less so, she doesn't mind following as it's sometimes easier to simply trust her lovers to plan things. It means less worries for her. It doesn't stop her from organizing impromptu activities, so be prepared for those.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Fights would be rather explosive- not loud, but aggressive anyways. Annabeth has her pride she hangs on to and finds it hard to admit fault, unless it's glaringly her fault. Piper becomes petty about it, perhaps she walks away but keeps glaring, and does not want to talk to either of you. Forgiveness doesn't come easily in this relationship, and it will always take time for fights to truly get resolved.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

They never let any help they get go unappreciated. Piper is very vocal about her thanks, and Annabeth likes to repay your favors by doing something in return. Either way, they are aware of what you do for them, as it always fills them with joy whenever you care for them.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Piper finds it hard to keep secrets from either of you, she often shares it whenever something is bothering her and found that sharing means sometimes she can get help that she didn't know she needed. Annabeth has a harder time- she trusts the two of you, but she's been on her own for so long and sees weakness in sharing and strength in overcoming her own troubles.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Annabeth is slowly learning to be less perfect, that her flaws are allowed and that she can depend on her lovers if she needs it. Piper is also coming to terms with who she is, and what her identity means to her. She has been working on it before you got together, but she has to admit that it's getting easier with your support.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Once again Piper and Annabeth are opposites. Annabeth feels secure in the relationship and trusts the both of you with her life, along with her heart. However, she does love showing the both of you off whenever someone is getting too comfortable with you. Piper gets jealous more easily, she has lost things over and over and feels weird and bad to see either of you go. She hasn't admitted these feelings yet, but she is aware it's something she should work on.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Piper, as a daughter of Aphrodite, has somehow a natural skill with kissing, and every kiss you share is amazing. Even the first kiss wasn't awkward at all, even if the tension was. Annabeth's kisses are less skilled but feel very good and comfortable whenever they happen.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It wasn't really planned, but Piper had taken the both of you out, not on a date, but somewhere midday she realized maybe she wanted it to be a date. Thus, she asked, and both Annabeth and you were surprised but agreed. It was nice and casual, with little overthinking.

Memory - What’s their favourite memory together?

There is not one memory either of your girlfriends hold dearer than the others. Every day is filled with new ones. Perhaps Annabeth will mention simply surviving the war, or Piper will tell you that it's the one time the three of you got caught in a storm and sheltered in a cafe nearby. Either way, any memory is a favorite one for them.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Annabeth tends to have a teasing nickname for both of you, it's simply how she treats those she loves. Piper calls you by a cuter nickname when she feels like it, but she does so love the name of you and Annabeth and loves saying those.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Piper flirts, it's almost second nature to her. She also tends to look for those she loves in a crowd or conversation, even when you're not talking. Annabeth shows her love by taking care of you, scolding you whenever you do something stupid.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

They are both upfront about the relationship, but neither prioritize PDA as a way to show it off. Annabeth only likes holding hands, but always wants to have a hand free and Piper does enjoy shamelessly flirting with you both, but also likes the freedom of moving around. Neither cares too much if anyone is watching, it's simply their own comfort that has them refrain from doing too much PDA.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Piper tends to adapt really well to what is needed to be done, Annabeth overworking herself? She makes an indoor date night and forces her to take a break. You're having excess energy? Let's go spar or go on a run! Annabeth actually is a great planner, she always manages to find a spot for a weekly date in each of your schedules, which with three people tends to be quite the accomplishment.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Neither of them are good at making elaborate romantic gestures. Piper has some internalized disgust to her Aphrodite parentage, and refuses to take advice from her siblings and Annabeth just never learned how to be romantic and will be rigid about how romance should be done if asked to be romantic. But both of them are therefore way too romantic in random moments, without meaning to.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Both of them are your biggest cheerleaders. Piper loves offering mental support, and Annabeth will do anything in her power to help you.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Even though Piper would love to discover the edges of the universe, she does need structure in her life. She hasn't had a set schedule that was over her own making ever, and she would appreciate a structure in life. Annabeth simply enjoys structure in her life, because it keeps her calm, but she's open to a thrill every now and then.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

They are both really empathic but for different reasons. Annabeth has taken her time to learn each of you inside and out, and keeps that knowledge close to her heart. She reads you like a book, and she loves to read. Piper's empathy comes natural to her, she easily picks up on your mood.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Your girlfriends are very ride or die- they put the relationship very high on their list of priorities, even if other things might suffer from it. Annabeth sees the relationship with as much value as her legacy, and Piper truly would do anything for either of you.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

You started a tradition of going on painting picnic dates. You would pack drawing and painting supplies and then spend an afternoon on a blanket with snacks painting your surroundings. Annabeth prefers it if there are buildings nearby, but otherwise she'll simply imagine a building in the nature around you. Piper tends to paint close-ups of that which is around you. It's really sweet, especially since you tend to exchange the paintings between the three of you.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

When it's simply the three of you it's all touches and cuddles. Simply draped over one another when it's the end of the day, and everyone is still busy doing work.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

As long as one of you is around it's not the worst, they can deal with it together, but if it's the three of you split up you betcha you will have daily Iris messages. They won't admit it, but they will be missing you immensely, and often cope by simply trying to distract themselves.

Zeal - are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Both Piper and Annabeth would go to great lengths for the relationship- life has tested either of them again and again, and the Gods be damned they will wage war simply to stay together. It's nothing they haven't done before.

#request #requests #poly!pipabeth x reader #piper mclean x reader x annabeth chase #reader insert #fanfiction #xyou #x you #gn!reader #ABCs #fluff alphabet #heroes of olympus #cabinofimagines #admin asnyox

16 notes · View notes

the-amazing-simp · 1 year

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: 05.03.23

✰ - 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | ✯ - 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 | ✪ - 𝐚𝐮 | ❥ - 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐯.

—𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

Gowns and Daggers ✰

—𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

None yet!

—𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬

None yet!

—𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

None yet!

—𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

None yet!

—𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

None yet!

#writing updates ✍️#leo valdez fluff #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez #leo valdez x y/n #piper mclean #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #heroes of olympus #hoo x reader

21 notes · View notes

theslay3d · 1 year

Note

Hi! Was wondering if I could request a Percy Jackson x best friend (mb male if possible?) Reader? They're roommates (possibly college AU, but not not specifically) and it's reader's birthday, so Percy decides to surprise reader (mb invite Leo Annabeth and Piper to celebrate too). Basically how would it be to celebrate your birthday with best friend Percy! I hope it's not too complicated! Thank you so much!

Percy Jackson x Reader

Gender:Gender Neutral

Warnings: none

Word count: 755

A/N IM BACKKK sorry its taken me long to get to requests and stuff but im back now!! Also sorry i made it gender neutral but you can always imagine it as what you want.

You sighed as you walked down the multiple hallways to your dorm room. You were in New Rome university to hopefully live out a normal life.

You continued to make your way down the hallways until you made it to your room you shared with Percy. “Finally” You mutter under your breath as you reached for the handle. It was unlocked which was good as you forgot your key that morning.

Percy was sitting on the couch with textbooks open but was unsurprisingly not looking at any of them. Instead he was zoning out and looking at the wall.

When you set down all of your things is when he turned to look at you. “Hey!” He said and jumped up making all the textbooks fall. You laughed and said “Hey”

“Sooo” Percy rubbed his hands together and walked toward you. “Tomorrows your birthday!! What's the plan?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow “Plan? Well i was just gonna go to class then come back here and sleep”

His eyes widened and he grabbed your shoulders(which gave you major flashbacks to Rachel and her creepy prophecies) “It's your birthday!! You only turn this age once in this life”

“You're right but I am majorly sleep deprived and I want sleep” You turned around and started walking to your room.

You heard Percy dramatically sigh and turned around again. “We can get food?” You said and he nodded but looked like he was thinking.

The next morning you were late so you didn't have any time to make yourself a birthday breakfast or anything. You quickly said bye to Percy and made it to your class only ten minutes late.

You didn't have many classes that day which was good. What you didn't know was the whole day Percy was planning.

When you said you didn't have a plan for your birthday Percy started to make plans. He knew you were really close with Annabeth, Piper, and Leo so he planned to invite them for a little party. Annabeth was easy to get here as she went to the same college.

Luckily Leo and Piper were visiting so it was also easy to get them here at a certain time. Then he started with getting food from your favorite place. He probably got too much but…at least you'll both have leftovers for days.

Percy looked around at all the decorations he put up around your shared dorm and made sure everything was good. He also baked a cake. It was a recipe from his mom and he knew that you loved his mom's baking so he hoped you liked the cake.

Finally everything was done. Annabeth, Piper and Leo all got there and he told them to hide around so that they all could surprise you.

You reached the door and unlocked it as you remembered your key that morning. All the lights were off so after you shut the door you turned to the lightswitch. As soon as you turned the lights on you heard people yell “SURPRISE!”

You shrieked and threw your bag full of school supplies at them. “OW!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You finally recognized it was your friends and realized that who you threw your bag at was Percy. “Oops?” You said in a question tone.

“Why did you phrase that like a question” Percy asked and narrowed his eyes playfully.

You rolled your eyes at him and walked forward. “What is this?”

You looked around and saw all the decorations all over the place and food on all the tables.

“It's your birthday! We weren't not gonna throw you a party” Percy said as he ruffled your hair.

Leo laughed and moved forward to hug you. You smiled and hugged back. “It's been awhile” Leo broke from the hug and leaned on you. “It has” you agreed.

“Alright Leo my turn” Piper said and pushed Leo off of you. “Hey!” He said as he stumbled.

You all laughed and moved toward the food. “Ah ah ah cake first” Percy smiled and went to go get the cake. He brought it out and lit all the candles. You read what it said “Happy Birhtday Y/n!” You were surprised he only misspelled one thing.

They all sang you happy birthday and you blew out the candles. You all moved to the tiny table.

Before you and Percy got there you pulled him a little away. “Thank you Percy for all of this”

He smiled. “That's what friends do”

#percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #annabeth chase #piper mclean #leo valdez #Heroes of Olympus #heros of olympus x reader #heros of olympus fanfiction

29 notes · View notes

ugh-yoongi · 6 months

Text

a word from our sponsors | knj

you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it. 🎙️

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: podcast, friends to lovers au; crack, smut, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact. warnings: parasocial relationships galore, a m*n with a p*dcast, author abuses italics, swearing, alcohol, reader uses a pseudonym/nickname (piper) because writing the meta fanfiction scene would've been too weird without one and i refuse to use y/n, dialogue-heavy but it is a fic about a podcast, everyone is down horrendous, mentions of social media & fake r*ddit posts, ex-boyfriend yoongi but in a good, healthy way. let me know if i missed anything but mostly this is just two goofballs not realizing they're in love with one another. smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex (fiction), protected vaginal sex (nonfiction), a lil squirting, mild degradation, mentions of a p*ss kink but there is no actual pee i promise (...lest?), i didn't intend to write size kink but it's namjoon so it just showed up anyway, slight dom!joon, everyone orgasms. wordcount: 17.5k credits: this was entirely inspired by that one episode of the basement yard where frankie reads the smut fic of him and joe, so credits to both that author and that podcast. spotify, for their podcast name generator. astro-seek for helping me drag namjoon astrologically. an extra special, gigantic thanks to @effortandmore for writing the meta fanfic (3k of it, no less!) and not batting an eye when i said it could have pee in it as a joke. this is as much yours as it is mine. finally, @hot-soop and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me and telling me i'm funny. author's note: happy birthday, indigo! here i am to validate every fear you've ever had that the people you write porn about may one day read it. live and on air. :)

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years.

You can learn a lot about a guy in that amount of time.

None of it is especially salacious. You know all about his family and his dog and the brand of recycled paper towels he insists on buying in bulk. You know what he’d written his grad school thesis on and what he’d looked like in the thick of it, when he was staving off his fifth mental break of the week. You know how fidgety he gets when it’s closing in on Friday night and he’s got a date—how much he stresses over which restaurant to pick, which cologne, which expensive cashmere sweater to wear.

You also know what the internet thinks about him. Intimately.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is peak husband material. He has cheeks ripe for pinching and thighs small countries would go to war to defend. He has a lap that doubles as a seat and dimples people want to get baptized in. He has Instagram selfies with hundreds of thousands of likes and comment sections full of intelligible keysmashes, especially the ones he posts from the gym.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is a man written by a woman.

Looking at him now, you aren’t sure that’s true, you think people just need to raise their standards. Namjoon is just… Namjoon. He’s intelligent and kind and up to date on modern feminist theory, is all. And, sure, maybe in the current political landscape that puts him far above the rest of men, but the way the internet has latched onto him is a little concerning.

“There’s another post about whether or not we’re dating,” you say, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

sooo let’s be real here, we ALL think they’re dating, right?? Posted by u/pod-shipper 2 hours ago

Just like he always does, Namjoon huffs out a soft laugh, makes his way around to your side of the table. Puts his large hands on your shoulders as he leans in close to read from your screen, snorting every time he reads a sentence he finds particularly amusing. Whichever cologne he’d chosen this morning is, admittedly, very nice.

It’s sooo obvious, especially in the episodes they film and post on YouTube. The way they look at each other?? I don’t even look at my HUSBAND like that! (+1264) ↳ omg ur sooooo right! i could MAYBE buy that they aren’t full on dating, but they’ve def at least slept together. Namjoon is so 🔥🔥🔥 (+791) ↳ um how can namjoon be dating her when he’s already married to me 😌💅 (+3) ↳ For the millionth time, can we not speculate on their personal lives? This is weird and reinforces really harmful ideas that men and women can’t just be friends. (-51)

“How come they never talk about how hot you are?”

You can tell by the look on Namjoon’s face that he hadn’t meant to say that—or, if he did, he didn’t mean to say it like that, with an entire pout, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. “Cursed to be ugly and dumb,” you joke to ease the sudden tension, reading the comment that simply says you’d have to be the dumbest person alive to not sleep with Namjoon.

He scrunches his nose at that. Returns to his side of the table. “Yeah, I don’t think so, lots of people haven’t slept with me.” Starts to unpack all the gear from his bag before he says, “Hey, all that stuff—does it bother you?”

“What do you mean?” you answer, the corner of a protein bar stuck in your mouth. Namjoon always insists on recording at the most inconvenient times.

“People thinking we’re together,” he clarifies.

You shrug. “I dunno. Not really. Comes with the territory, I think, not to mention how much you love to overshare—”

“Hello?”

“I’m just saying,” you retort, hands raised in self-defense. “There really was no need for you to mention you blew your grad school stipend on a porn scam.” Namjoon looks affronted, like he can’t believe you’d stoop so low as to bring that up. “Or that you lost your virginity at fifteen.”

“We have a relationship podcast,” he states simply. “That’s kind of what we do, right? Talk about relationships? And the spectrum of human sexuality is part of that.”

You slump back in your chair as you quirk an eyebrow. “No one said it wasn’t, I just said you overshare. Which you do.”

“And that’s why there’s a dozen Reddit posts a week discussing whether or not we’re dating? Because I overshare?”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s the kind of behavior that leads to parasocial relationships. People latch onto that shit. Makes them think they’re your friend.” He glares. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right. It’s bad enough you’ve word-vomited all this highly personal information about yourself, but to not even do it under a pseudonym? It’s like you’re begging for trouble.”

Another comment he doesn’t even realize he’s making: “I don’t beg. For anything.”

To this day, you’re not sure why Namjoon asked you to co-host a podcast with him.

His reasoning had been simple: “You’re my best friend and we don’t agree on anything.” Hard to argue with that. Namjoon has seemingly endless patience, even in the face of things he shouldn’t entertain, and you… do not, to put it simply.

You’re not a cold person. Your fuse isn’t short. You’re just a little jaded, is all. Have far less propensity for bullshit than Namjoon does, so the two of you play well off each other. You end a sentence with a well-punctuated full stop and Namjoon’s right behind you to sigh and say maybe you shouldn’t be so hasty, not everything in the world can be so black or white.

Except some things are. Somewhere along the way, the podcast—which Namjoon had affectionately named Place Him Gently in the Garbage, even though some people should be shoved in there with force—had picked up a following. A big one. And now, every week, you’re inundated with emails ranging in severity. Sometimes people just want to vent after their tenth bad date in a row or share funny stories, and Namjoon lets you take the lead on those, but sometimes it’s a little more serious. That’s where Namjoon shines, all that endless patience, and people love him for it.

“What’s on the agenda today?” he asks, accepting a thick stack of papers from Jungkook.

Ah, Jungkook.

You aren’t sure what he actually does. Some kind of social media manager, which is obvious from the wildly out-of-context clips he posts of you to TikTok, and it’s his responsibility to go through the thousands of emails you get from listeners, but aside from that all you’ve got are your suspicions that he just sticks around to swindle Namjoon out of more and more money.

“I’m in a silly goofy mood,” comes Jungkook’s reply, and you let out a witch cackle as Namjoon winces. Nothing good ever comes of Jungkook being in a silly goofy mood, and that’s quite alright by you.

Fifteen minutes later finds you with a camera in your face that you greet with an unamused, flat stare. Jungkook is used to it by now. Just films for a few seconds before turning his attention to an unaware Namjoon. Head down, pen and highlighter going a mile a minute as he pores over the stack of papers with all the doggedness and eagle-eyed stare of a literature professor.

That’s the thing about Namjoon—he takes this really seriously. So do you, but not in the ways Namjoon does. He’s all skill and determination and you’re color commentary. It works. It clearly works, so you aren’t too bent out of shape about it, but sometimes you worry. Namjoon takes this really seriously and sometimes you worry that he takes it too seriously, that he carries the burdens and worries of all these strangers, that he’s trying to solve and fix things that aren’t his responsibility to solve and fix.

So he takes it really seriously and you don’t take it as seriously as you maybe should, and everything is by design. Balanced.

Twenty minutes later finds you staring across the table at Namjoon, who asks, “Are you ready?” and does one last equipment check before he launches into, “Welcome back to another episode of Place Him Gently in the Garbage with Namjoon and Piper. What’s new with you, Pipe? Any fun news?”

Pipe. It drives you nuts. Feels like nails on a chalkboard. “I see you almost every single day,” you respond dryly. “But for the sake of entertainment, I’m thinking about getting a cat.”

“A cat?” Namjoon parrots, and his eyebrows disappear beneath his fringe because he knows what that means.

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, but you’ve known him even longer.

Since your first year of college, which is also when you met Yoongi. Yoongi, your ex. Yoongi, the person you’d been with for six years and had planned a life around. Yoongi, now one of your closest friends, because the two of you still love one another but no longer in that way, which is fine. But also—Yoongi, allergic to cats.

So, yeah. Namjoon knows what that means, and he has the good sense not to mention it. Unlike him, you’re intensely private and keep your cards close to your chest. Your listeners don’t even know your real name, let alone that you’d gone through a breakup a year ago.

“What kind of cat?” he continues, like his entire world hasn’t just been turned upside-down.

You shrug. “Eh, I don’t know. Probably one that’s been in the shelter a long time, I guess. I’m not too fussy, you know?”

“Right, a cat is a cat,” Namjoon says, thinking he’s done something. You and Jungkook gasp at the same time. “What? Why are you giving me that look?”

“Because that’s a fucked up thing to say! A cat is not just a cat. They have little personalities, just like people. You’ve got—”

“But you just said you’re not fussy,” he interjects. “And I know they have personalities and that you have to find one that suits your lifestyle! Like, you can’t have one of those really cool cats that likes to go kayaking and shit, it’d never work—”

“What does that mean? Why couldn’t I have a cool cat?”

“Hey, all you cool cats and kittens,” Namjoon mocks, and you can tell he thinks he’s done something again, but his impression falls flatter than flat. An awkward silence fills the studio. He coughs. “Anyway. Do you have pictures?”

“Yeah. I also have a list of candidates ranked by how cool their names are. Number five, Casserole.”

“That’s cute.”

“Mhm,” you agree, “but Casserole is a kitten, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“They do say you should adopt kittens in pairs.”

“And that’s how they get you. You want one kitten and they talk you into two, and before you know it you’ve got, like, twelve cats. Number four, Party Girl.”

“Sick name.”

“Number three, Toddler.”

“Toddler?”

“Number two, Flat.”

“Just Flat? Understandable.”

“And, finally, number one: Human Torch.”

“Yoooo.” Namjoon laughs. “You have to adopt Human Torch. Let me see.” You pull up a picture on your phone and hand it over. “Okay, for our listeners—Human Torch is a young, male Domestic Short Hair. He has stripes. I don’t know what that’s called.”

“Tabby,” Jungkook chimes in.

“Jungkook says he’s a tabby. He’s cute. Adopt him.”

You return your phone to your pocket. “Maybe. I still think I want an older cat, but I’ll consider it. What about you, though? Any new dating horror stories to share?”

Ah, the dating horror stories. Your most dedicated shippers are convinced they’re fake, that Namjoon just makes them up on the spot to keep them off your trail. If only. Not in the if only they were fake and Namjoon and I were actually dating kind of way, but the holy shit one of my closest friends is a fucking disaster and it’s a little embarrassing kind of way.

“Not really,” he answers. “I’ve got a date this Friday, though. Trying to decide if dinner and a movie is too boring.”

“It’s a classic for a reason. What are you gonna see, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3?”

“Three?” Namjoon emphasizes, truly sounding scandalized. “Since when are there three? I haven’t even seen one or two.”

“Okay, first of all, the original is a classic and it’s a crime you haven’t seen it.”

“And second of all?”

“There is no second of all. Repeat point one.”

He snorts. “I’m not gonna see that, anyway. Maybe the re-release of Howl’s Moving Castle.”

“Subbed or dubbed, though?”

“Are you trying to get me canceled?”

“Absolutely.”

“I like both,” he chickens out. “Now, let’s stop wasting time and get to the point of the show.”

“Talking about cats is a waste of time?”

“I—no, we’ve just got a lot on the agenda today.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there’s lots to talk about on the celebrity front—”

Namjoon loves this part. As esteemed and educated as he is, not even he is immune to good old celebrity gossip. (Inside him there are two wolves.) Lives for it. Texts you about it at all hours of the night. Sends you links to Reddit threads with hundreds of comments. Has more opinions on Celebrity Big Brother than he does on Ludwig Wittgenstein, sometimes, and when that’s the case you know you’re in for a long evening. You’ve never even seen an episode of Celebrity Big Brother.

But Namjoon loves it, so you’ve become fond of it by association. Reminds you a bit of Yoongi and his love for sports and sports anime.

“—one should we start with?”

“Whatever you want,” you answer, because you haven’t been paying a lick of attention and you aren’t sure it matters anyway. Namjoon can talk to a wall on a good day, but he’s an entirely different beast once mundane, innocuous celeb gossip gets involved.

And even though you hadn’t been paying attention, it seems like this was the right thing to say, because Namjoon smiles so wide his dimples crater his face. “Cool. Let’s start with Taryn Manning. Did you see that bizarre—”

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who is Taryn Manning?”

Namjoon looks a little dumbstruck. Even Jungkook’s arching an eyebrow at you. “Are you serious? She was in Orange is the New Black and Crossroads.”

“The Britney Spears movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Weird, okay. Continue.”

Your co-host shoots you a very pointed look. “I will, thanks. Anyway, she posted a video on social media talking about this affair she had with a married man. Like, she pulled over on the side of the road to record this. Said she can’t stand the man’s wife because she called her a quote-unquote lunatic.”

“I—huh, thought we weren’t supposed to say that anymore. Alright.”

“But wait, it gets even more bizarre. Listen to this quote—and this is direct. This is a direct quote from the video, I can’t stop thinking about it: ‘Don’t you ever threaten me when your husband came to me to get his butthole licked.’ Can you—”

“What? Namjoon, what in the fuck—”

“It’s crazy, right? She was gonna buy this guy a boat.”

“Namjoon, this is a family show, you can’t just talk about ass-eating unprompted.”

“No it’s not.”

“Well, you still shouldn’t talk about ass-eating unprompted. It’s unbecoming.”

“You’re unbecoming,” Namjoon fires back, because he can’t help it. The words are out of his mouth before he can think. “Sorry, that was out of line.”

You sigh. Know whatever look Jungkook is catching on his camera right now is exasperated and pointed, the corners of your mouth probably tugged up just a hint. “Unbecoming, like I said.” Namjoon scoffs. “Anyway, so this actress was gonna buy this married guy a boat and was eating his ass?”

“Yeah. Apparently it was her friend’s husband? They all went to a Taylor Swift concert together.”

“Jesus, this keeps getting worse. Big year for Hollywood cheaters.”

“It is, right? Cheaters and divorces. Something in the water, I guess.”

“I saw the astrology girlies saying a bunch of planets are in retrograde, so—”

“Can you explain that to me? Like, what does it mean for a planet to be in retrograde? Why is it causing divorces?”

“I don’t know, I’m not an astrology girlie. That’s why I said the astrology girlies. What are your big three, though?”

“What’s that?”

“Your sun, moon, and rising signs.”

“How do I find that out?”

“Ugh,” you intone, “don’t worry about it, I’ll do it myself. What time were you born?”

Namjoon rattles off a time.

You grab your laptop. Pull up the page, type in Namjoon’s date of birth and birthplace, and wait. Then you’re staring at a circle with a bunch of lines in it that also don’t make a lick of sense to you. You roll your lips to keep from laughing and school your voice into something deadly serious. “Bad news: it says you’re a virgin.”

“Virgo,” Namjoon corrects, not taking the bait. “I already knew that.”

You scroll a little further down the page. “Your moon is in Sagittarius. Oh god, listen to this, they’ve got you pegged: ‘The greatest need is to always search for something. In order to feel safe you need a philosophy or belief’—”

“Haaa, that’s not—”

“—’You need to have a goal or mission that gives your life meaning. Your faith must be voluntary and it is a paradox that fighting against dogmas may lead you to other dogmas.’ Yeah, that’s you.”

“That could apply to anyone,” he argues. “There are seven-billion people on this planet; I’d imagine a sizable amount of them would say that also describes them.”

“Hm, sounds like your faith in astrology is not yet voluntary. Did you know you’re a Scorpio rising?”

“No. I’m sure you’re gonna tell me all about it, though.”

You smile. “Correct. ‘People with Scorpio on the Ascendant need to fight against dark and destructive power in their life.’ Is that true?”

“Yeah, you’re the dark and destructive power. You keep sidetracking me and we need to get to the point of the podcast.” He grabs the stack of papers Jungkook had given him. Looks more highlighter than paper, if you’re being honest. “I guess Jungkook thought we needed a lighthearted kind of day.”

“That was nice of him, considering what he gave us last week. I guess we’re allowed to have faith in humanity today.”

To your left, Jungkook scoffs.

“Alright,” Namjoon starts, putting on his Very Serious Podcast Guy voice, “first up we’ve got a question from one of our listeners in Canada. It says, ‘Hi, Piper and Namjoon. I recently agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She said he was a bit old-fashioned but really talked him up so I thought I was in good hands—and then he showed up to get me in a ‘67 GTO and exclusively referred to me as doll. He didn’t use my name once. I’m torn, because he was really nice and I had a good time otherwise, but this is weird, right? Should I see him agai—’”

“No,” you interject.

“Can I finish?”

“You don’t have to. This guy sounds greasy.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “And why is that?”

“Ignoring the fact that this guy has arguably one of the lamest classic cars around, he didn’t use their name once? Not once, in all the time they spent together? That’s really disrespectful.”

“Some people are just pet name people,” Namjoon argues.

“With absolute strangers, though? It’s really giving the impression that he didn’t even know it, not to mention some people are uncomfortable with pet names. The whole shtick is super lame.”

“I agree it sounds a bit misguided, but—”

Ignoring Namjoon, you say, “Sorry you had to go on a date with the ghost of less-cool James Dean. Into the garbage he goes.”

And, just like he’s done a million times before, Namjoon rolls his eyes and says, “If you really like this guy and want to see him again, a bit of communication will go a long way. Tell him the pet name made you uncomfortable—if it did—and offer to pick him up for the next date. I don’t think he’s completely destined for the garbage, yet.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have a license. You probably think a 1967 Pontiac GTO is the pinnacle of romance. That’s probably like picking someone up on a Specialized Aethos to you, eh?”

“That’s a fifteen-thousand dollar bike, I’ll have you know.”

You groan. “Oh my god.”

Ep: #183 - Namjoon is a Virgin

I think Namjoon had the right idea on this one. Sure, the car can be considered lame, but I think a lot of men are deeply insecure and therefore overcompensate when it comes to dating. Women are hard to impress when they have unlimited options. You have to stand out, so I’m glad he advocated for him. Piper can come off like such a misandrist sometimes. (-649) ↳ just shut up bro namjoon would fuckin hate u (+204) ↳ Imagine caring about something like this when they’re getting a cat together 🙄 (+19)

You think about the cat thing for nearly a week.

Adopting a cat is certainly not the worst idea you’ve ever had, and truth be told it’s been a little lonely, living by yourself. No more Yoongi in your space; no more Holly. So, having a new little friend around might do you some good.

It’s just—

It’s a big commitment, and there’s also the dog sitting-shaped elephant in the room. Ending things on good terms means you’re still Yoongi’s second-choice sitter whenever he has to go out of town, and while you love Holly dearly (the two of you had adopted him together, after all), he’s a lot like his father in a lot of ways.

Should I get a cat, you type out, and it’s only been in Yoongi’s inbox a few seconds before the most unflattering picture you’ve ever taken of him is flashing across your screen.

“Are you dying?” you ask, because Yoongi doesn’t call you for much else.

And you already know what his response is going to be. “We’re all dying.”

“Lighten up, Yoongi. One might say being so existentially nihilistic before noon causes wrinkles.”

There’s a split-second pause. “It’s nine p.m.”

“Sure, but it’s before tomorrow’s noon, so it still counts.”

“Whatever. Listen, before you adopt that cat, I need a favor.”

“You going out of town again?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be long, though. A week at the most, five days if I’m lucky.”

“That’s fine, bring him over whenever. Yijeong’s busy?”

This pause is far, far longer. “No,” comes Yoongi’s eventual response, but it’s slow. Unsure. A two-letter word has never taken so long to say in the history of ever. “He’s, uh. Coming with me?”

Oh, you think. This is where your ex awkwardly and hesitantly breaks the news of his new relationship. You’ve known this day was coming, and this is what you get for staying friends with him. “This is a fanfiction plot,” you accuse. “Hot, mysterious man moves into a gaudy apartment complex after ending a long-term relationship and meets his equally-hot and mysterious neighbor and they fall in love.”

“I—that’s not—my apartment is not gaudy.”

“Yes it is. There’s a giant gold bust of a weird bird in the lobby.”

“Weird bird?” he parrots. “It’s a swan.”

“I see you’re not denying the in-love-with-your-neighbor accusations.”

“Am I on trial?” Yoongi retorts, and it’s such a Yoongi thing to say when what he means is, is this okay? He means, are we able to talk about this without it being weird? He means, I won’t ever say as much out loud, but your acceptance means a lot to me, and I’d like for you to give me this.

So you lower your voice and soften the edges because it’s not really something to joke about, and you say, “No, of course you’re not on trial,” and Yoongi knows what you mean. “And if you were, you'd get locked up for fifty years. You can’t lie for shit.”

There’s a beat of silence before he clears his throat, mutters a thanks that is so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “Send me pictures of the cats.”

Later on, once you’re freshly-showered and tucked into bed with a candle and a book (Eloge de l’amour by Alain Badiou at Namjoon’s insistence and request), your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi—

Yoongi: toddler is a fucking hilarious name for a cat but so is flat Yoongi: it’s a tie for me You: Okay well pick one 🙄 Yoongi: yijeong says get both You: Both???? Is he paying my vet bills? Yoongi: kinda out of line to proposition him for money. flat is also good with dogs, js You: If he’s now being raised by you two, my perfect, well-behaved son is probably long gone. Does he even count as a dog anymore? Yoongi: me and yijeong both say fuck off Yoongi: holly too. he says he doesn’t miss you anymore and he’s not coming over now Yoongi has added Yijeong to the group Yoongi has changed the group name to #ThirdWheelChat Yijeong: Please don’t drag me into this. Also I did not say “fuck off” You have changed the group name to People Who Have Seen Yoongi Naked Yoongi: fuck you

You should’ve known something was going on with Jungkook, because it’d started like this:

(When you and Namjoon started the podcast three years ago, it was in the living room of his apartment.

Surrounded by books and plants. He loved to record in the afternoons back then—Namjoon loved to say it was because of his grad school schedule, but you’ve always suspected he just wanted to preen in the golden hour light, much like he’s doing now.

“Is this really necessary?” Jungkook whines from his spot on the couch. He’s already swindled Namjoon out of two bags of microwavable popcorn and three cans of sparkling water. “It’s a Saturday afternoon; I could be doing something so much more fun than this.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Are you saying this isn’t fun?”

“Yeah. It sucks, actually. This could’ve been an email.”

And because Namjoon is accomplished, mature, and absolutely incapable of not taking Jungkook’s bait, the space between his brows creases as he sends a murderous glare Jungkook’s way. “Stop eating my food, then. And drinking my drinks. And lounging on my couch like that—”

“I’m not lounging,” Jungkook argues.

“You’re manspreading all over the leather!”

“This is how I sit!”

“Well, knock it off! My couch is only for fun and people who think I’m fun!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “So you fuck on it?”

“What?”

“What other fun things could you possibly do on a couch?”

Namjoon blinks. “Watch… watch a movie?”

Jungkook groans, throws himself backwards against the pillows as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “Jesus. No wonder you can’t score a second date.”

“Okay, that was a little uncalled for. There are a ton of reasons a person might not want a second date, and no one is obligated to go out with me—”

“Uh-huh. Anyway—”

You clear your throat. Try to hide your own can of seltzer you’d taken from Namjoon’s fridge in the midst of his and Jungkook’s bickering. “Not trying to be rude, but I have an appointment at the shelter at three. If, y’know. You wouldn’t mind speeding this up a little.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course—”

“Oh, so you’ll speed this up for her but not—”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “She,” he begins, jerking his thumb in your direction, “isn’t needlessly complaining and actually has someplace to be.”)

It was just a quick little rendezvous in Namjoon’s living room to come up with a rough draft for the following month’s episodes. He couldn’t do it over text because he’d fallen down the steps at his office and landed on his ass on the corner of a step and his phone had been in his back pocket. Cracked clean in half. And he couldn’t do it over email because he—rightfully—knew Jungkook would ignore them because he has his inbox set up to send all of Namjoon’s personal emails to the trash.

But Jungkook holds onto things like that. Grudges. Loves to let Namjoon think bygones are bygones and pop up a few days later with some evil scheme. Hence:

“What is this?”

Jungkook smirks. Rocks back on his heels. “It’s fanfiction.”

“I can see that, but… why?”

This is where Jungkook shines: the ominous, cheshire cat grin; the aw, shucks demeanor that gaslights Namjoon into thinking Jungkook couldn’t possibly be fucking with him. “Well, you were having trouble coming up with ideas for episodes, and there’s an email in there from someone whose partner reads really expli—”

“Jungkook, this is fanfiction about me.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. Of all the weird shit you’ve seen on the internet (and there’s been a lot), fanfiction of people you know—your friends—was something you’d managed to escape. Probably by virtue of not knowing anyone famous enough to warrant fanfiction being written about them.

But you should’ve known. You really, really should’ve known.

“Oh my god?”

You’re not sure who says it. Could be you or Namjoon, but the sentiment is the same. He mouths a what the fuck at you that’s met with a shrug. You’re in uncharted territory now, too. “Where did you even find this?” you ask, taking the stack of papers from Namjoon. “And why did you print it out?”

“Because I’m going to track down whoever wrote it and get them to autograph it. Then I’m going to buy a nice frame and hang it on the wall behind him, so we never forget this historical moment in Place Him Gently in the Garbage lore.”

“It’s a podcast,” Namjoon deadpans, “how can it have lore? And how much lore can there possibly be?”

“It’s the internet,” you concede. “The lore possibilities are endless. Don’t tempt them.”

Jungkook nods sagely, well-versed in the degeneracy of the internet. “Yeah, that’s how you end up with shit like 4chan.”

“4chan? There’s Space Jam porn on there.”

As the youngest, all Jungkook can do is roll his eyes. “Sometimes explaining this shit to you feels like trying to teach old people how to rotate PDFs—”

Namjoon scoffs. “I’m not that bad. I know how to rotate a PDF.”

Wow, Jungkook mouths. “Anyway, back to the fanfiction—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Namjoon interjects. He looks at you. “It’s weird, right? Like, it’s weird that people have written this about us?”

About us.

Your scope of the world narrows to the size of a pinhead. It’d just been about Namjoon before. This is fanfiction about me, he’d said, and you hadn’t been included in that. Now it’s written about us and you’re included.

“I—what?”

“It’s about us,” Namjoon repeats.

Jungkook rolls his lips. “It’s about the two of you fucking, to be specific.”

“Can you not—”

“Fucking a lot,” Jungkook continues. “So much fucking.”

Namjoon looks at you, and it’s all you can do to keep from laughing. The look on his face is pure bewilderment, both that Jungkook has cooked up this idea and is hell-bent on executing it and that he remains employed. And maybe it’s a little bit of nerves, too, because neither of you are ignorant of the risks. Reading fanfiction about yourselves—about the two of you as a couple, specifically, or at least two people who have sex—is weird. Not something you can unread.

And maybe it’s because you’re so determined to not make it weird that you send Namjoon a cheeky, exaggerated wink, shrug your shoulders, and say, “I’ll need a couple drinks, but I’m down.”

Jungkook throws his head back and cackles wildly, and that look of bewilderment on Namjoon’s face morphs into something else. Trepidation, maybe; definitely disbelief, because sometimes he lets himself get swept away in Jungkook’s schemes, but it’s rare that you follow suit.

As Jungkook continues to laugh, you wonder if you should’ve said no.

Namjoon has two stipulations: the two of you have to film the episode completely alone, and he, too, needs to be a little drunk.

The latter? Piece of cake, considering Namjoon has become some sort of whiskey aficionado in recent years. His drinking is streamlined and to the point—he knows exactly how much and what to drink to get him where he wants to be. You can’t say he isn’t efficient.

The former, though? Borderline impossible. From the second Namjoon states his terms, Jungkook is having none of it. Argues that he’s the one who found the story and the one who cleared it with the author, so he deserves to witness the fruits of his labor.

“No,” Namjoon repeats for the nth time, “no way. I’ll barely be able to do this with just her, let alone both of you.”

And that—that doesn’t bother you, right? You force a laugh, because why would it bother you?

There are few secrets between you and Namjoon, except your respective sex lives have been staunchly off-limits. Namjoon could be a virgin for all you know, and as you study him—the way he keeps bobbing his leg, the slight shake in his hands—you wonder if that’s the reason he’s being so weird about this.

It’s just a story.

Fiction.

Most people don’t have to worry about someone writing stories about them fucking their friends. If they do, you reckon even less actually read them. So, sure, it’s a little strange, but people from all over the world send in stranger stuff all the time, don’t they? It’s literally the reason you’re in this predicament.

Eventually Jungkook agrees. His whining has gotten him nowhere, so he just throws up his hands. Posts a cryptic little “u guys won’t believe what the next patreon ep is lmao” that sends the internet into a frenzy. Doubles your Patreon numbers almost immediately, and both you and Namjoon do a good job of pretending the pressure isn’t overwhelming.

Jesus. You have to read explicit fanfiction about yourselves. On camera.

Namjoon gets caught up with work and isn’t available until the weekend, so you’re forced to sit with the nerves for a few days. Not too bad at first, but you’re nearly coming out of your skin by Thursday with the need to know. You’re well-versed in the world of fanfiction, but this is fanfiction about you: your name, your likeness, maybe even your personality.

What will they know of Namjoon, though?

Will they get it right, the way he looks with his jaw clenched? How impossibly deep his voice can go, both when it’s raspy with sleep and when he’s fully at ease? Will the Namjoon in the story be closer to the Namjoon you know, or the version of himself he presents to the public?

And you’ve known him a long time—long enough that there are few secrets between you, but you don’t know the most intimate parts. All the parts the internet loves to speculate on. All the little gaps that, apparently, need to be filled in by fanfiction.

Will they know what Namjoon looks like when he gets off?

No, you scold yourself, jerking awkwardly like you’ve been burned, and neither will you.

Because you are not going to think about this. Your thoughts are not going to go there. Namjoon is your friend, and you’ve listened to him scold an endless amount of men on the podcast for exactly this behavior. Sexualizing their friends. You’re not going to do it, too.

Maybe that’s why you’re kind of seeing double when it comes time to record. Namjoon needed an extra shot and offered you one as well. You’d necked it without a second thought and now you’re here, trying to ignore the slight tilt of the room as Namjoon adjusts the camera.

“How’s the shot look?” he asks, gesturing vaguely behind him at his laptop screen because Jungkook had refused to lend you his fancy cameras if he wasn’t allowed to be involved.

It’s a completely normal question.

It’s a question you’ve asked and answered a million times.

Except—there’s something horribly distracting about Namjoon in this moment. The outline of his back muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The way the sleeves are tight around his biceps. He’s always been a gym rat, always carries around a protein shake that smells and looks completely foul, but you can’t remember it ever being this obvious.

And you take too long to answer, because Namjoon straightens up just enough to send you a concerned look. Which does not help. You are not imagining what else might cause his brows to pinch like that, what might have his lips parting, have sweat dotting his hairline.

You swallow. Hard.

“Looks fine,” you manage to say. He’s still staring. Are you on fire? You feel like you’re on fire, which would make sense. Would explain Namjoon’s sweating and concerned stare and the fact that he cannot stop staring at you. “Maybe a tiny bit to the right if we’re being picky,” you tack on, hoping it’ll break whatever spell the two of you are ensnared in.

It works. “To the—the right, yeah, makes sense,” he rambles.

He moves it an inch to the left.

—

Things are tense, to say the least.

Recording hasn’t been this awkward since your first episode, or maybe ever. You’re sat across from one another like you always are, and usually Namjoon would be making quip after quip by now, talking endlessly until Jungkook shushed him long enough to get the intro filmed. Now, there’s just silence.

“Should we…?” Namjoon startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table and drops a string of curses. “Sorry, are you—”

“I’m fine,” he says, cutting you off. He gestures vaguely toward the camera. “I’ll just… yeah.”

Showtime.

You wipe your hands on your jeans, unsure of when they got so damp. Unsure of when you’d grown so nervous, too, because you’d been fine an hour ago. Had strolled in with two cups of tea and a little too much confidence, giddy at what you were about to do.

Maybe the nerves had shown up alongside the alcohol. This sounds reasonable, and you do not, under any circumstance or for any reason, think about Namjoon’s back. Or his biceps.

Namjoon makes it through the intro, dimples deep and wide as he smiles, and you also don’t think about the way his voice cracks and gets a little breathy when he introduces you. It’s only because he’d been drinking, and the flush on his cheeks attests to that. The same flush that creeps down his neck, still a little sweaty; disappears beneath the hemline of his shirt.

“—Jungkook had. Right, Piper?”

Now it’s your turn to startle, and there’s not much you can do to hide the obvious except ask Namjoon to redo the shot. Because it’s bad enough the internet already overanalyzes every move you make, every word choice, every instance you’ve stared at Namjoon a second longer than they thought you would—this is a blatant display of… affectedness.

“Sorry,” you say, “I wasn't paying attention. Can we redo it?”

You’re expecting a playful scolding. A ha ha, get it together, because that’s what you usually get. But there’s nothing aside from Namjoon studying you and nodding. Asking if you’re okay. Saying, “Is this—this is weird, right? Is it too weird? Maybe we shouldn’t—”

An out. Namjoon is giving you an out, and you should take it, you know you should take it, so there’s absolutely no reason at all you shake your head and say, “No, no, it’s fine! I think I’m just a little, uh. Drunk?”

“Are you sure? We can—”

“It’s fine, Joon,” you insist. “Besides, it’ll be good content, right?”

“Good content,” he parrots. “Yeah, for sure.” He fidgets in his seat, runs his hands down the span of his thighs. Very, very thick thighs. “I’ll grab us some water.”

You faceplant onto the table as soon as he’s out of the room. When did his thighs get so thick?

But the water helps. Cures whatever strange, insatiable thirst has come over you, because you feel much more human after a few glasses. Less drunk, too, which makes sense. Yoongi could barely escape your drunken, horny wrath when the two of you were together, so you chalk it up to a Pavlovian response.

Namjoon does the intro again. Introduces you strong and steady, not a hint of nerves, and explains, with a fresh blush taking over his upper body, what the episode’s going to be about. “Someone wrote fanfiction about us,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s, uh, pretty explicit. Jungkook thought it’d be funny if we read it.”

You snort. “He might get fired, depending on how this goes.”

“He should get fired regardless,” Namjoon deadpans. “Anyway, we have permission from the author to read this so don’t come after us, and, as always, we’ll put all the credits in the video description.”

“Special shoutout to Jungkook, though, who was not allowed to be here with us for this momentous occasion.”

Namjoon laughs. “I’m sure he’s having plenty of fun at home.” You both pause. “That’s not—I’m not implying anything with that! I just meant—you know, like. He’s hanging out and enjoying his day off.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Moving on. I have two copies of this. Do you want your own?”

You grin, wicked and wide. “Nah, just read it to me.”

“Making me do all the work,” he huffs. “Typical.”

“There’s a stack of papers in front of you that might say otherwise.”

It’s clear you catch him off-guard. He cocks an eyebrow, opens and shuts his mouth a few times like a goldfish. An obvious question sits on the tip of his tongue: You think you’d be in charge? Instead he coughs, jerks his head to the side, and says, “I guess we’ll see.”

It sounds like a challenge.

Thirty seconds is all you get before Namjoon’s shuffling his stack of papers and clearing his throat. Asking if you’re ready and jumping right into it once you say you are. Reads the first few lines like they’re some old lecture notes, and they’re conservative and safe-for-work enough that you start to relax.

And then Namjoon reads, “A louder one wonders if Namjoon is a pet name person—if he’d call her ‘honey,’ or ‘gummy bear,’ ‘babe,’ or ‘baby,’” and you choke.

“Gummy bear?”

Namjoon laughs along with you—the weird one that almost sounds like a dog panting. “You want me to call you gummy bear?”

“I want you to call me a Lyft,” you snark. “I’m leaving.”

He continues:

And that’s how it starts, wandering thoughts, wandering fingers—the first time Piper comes to the thought of Namjoon calling her baby, pushing inside her, showing her that he definitely doesn’t beg, but she does… Well, she’s a little ashamed. She’s apparently got a reputation to maintain, anyway, not to mention a friendship.

His eyes leave the paper and lock onto you. “Or maybe you’d prefer baby?”

“Fuck off.”

Weeks after that first time, it’s become a habit, thinking about Namjoon as something more than a friend. It’s confusing and a little mortifying and it’s starting to affect her in ways she hadn’t expected. When they record, she feels fidgety—she’s jumpy when he gets close, has all the stupid obvious tells of an unwanted crush: her breath hitches when he whispers (why the fuck is he whispering in her ear, anyway? Doesn’t he know what that does to a person?) inside jokes to her so Jungkook can’t hear, her heart rate spikes when their fingers accidentally brush, she feels itchy and hot and a little embarrassed whenever he holds eye contact with her. It’s terrible, and it’s only made worse by the way he’s doing all of those things more than usual. Or, at least she thinks he is, thinks she’s not imagining the way his eyes linger on her more than she can remember happening before or the way she’s caught him staring at her lips when she chews on the end of her pencil mindlessly.

You’ve completely forgotten how to breathe.

Namjoon’s staring again. You need to salvage this. He’s only on paragraph three and you’re already squirming in your chair and imagining things that are not appropriate. So you roll your lips, return his teasing. “Well? Do you stare at my lips?”

It works. “No,” he scowls.

“You sure?” you joke, morphing your face into something half-pout, half-duck face.

“We’re never gonna finish this if you keep making comments.”

“You started it,” you point out. “Go on, then.”

There’s some dialogue. Some prose that hits way too close to home, has you wondering who on earth wrote this and how they plucked every single thought from deep within your psyche. A pang of fear that maybe you haven’t been as subtle as you’d thought all these years. A moment to confirm to yourself that, no, you haven’t been harboring a secret, deeply-buried crush on Namjoon.

Then he reads—

And then he kisses her. It’s greedy and hot, his lips like a branding iron. She moans a little against her better judgment when he licks at the seam of her mouth, and in return, she can feel Namjoon’s lips curve into a smile against her own. It’s better than she’d been imagining it, really. He’s a good kisser—firm at the right times, soft when she needs it, careful but not cautious. He holds her jaw with one hand and keeps her right where he wants her beneath him (as if she’d want to move, anyway). When their lips finally part, he rests his forehead on hers. It’s intimate in a way she hadn’t expected, and he looks at her as if she’s the answer to every question. Finally, he whispers, “What’re we doing, Piper?” His lips are still wet and pink and a little swollen from kissing, and she barely hears the question—she’s too busy thinking about kissing him again, about pulling his plump bottom lip between her teeth, teasing and… “Kissing,” she says finally. “What do you want?” he asks, sinking to his knees in front of her. And if that alone isn’t an answer to his question… “Whatever you’re willing to give,” she replies. It feels like she’s wanted this forever, this and so much more. Once she got the idea in her head, it’s hard to know if she ever felt differently, ever truly thought they could just be friends. Or, if in the back of her mind, in the dark corners that she never lets see daylight, she always knew she wanted Namjoon. Always knew she loved him.

—and everything goes right out the fucking window.

Namjoon sits with those words for a moment. Scans the paper in his hands and frowns a little when he confirms what you already know. “The rest is, uh. Porn.”

“That is why we’re here.”

“Last chance to back out.”

“I’m not scared,” you lie. “Are you? You’re the one who keeps stalling.”

He huffs. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he retorts, and then nothing is all that funny anymore.

Because Namjoon was right: the rest is straight-up porn. He’s barely able to read the part where he goes down on you with a straight face, turning a deep shade of crimson. Stutters through the part where you pull his hair, and that is not something you needed to know about your friend. You think he loses his grasp of language entirely when he reads, “When he slides a long finger into her and brushes past her most sensitive spot, she arches into him and lets his name fall from her lips in a soft cry. Piper, notorious skeptic, is a babbling, trembling mess as she gets closer to her orgasm,” because all the words are garbled together, producing nothing but gibberish. You think he’s ready to keel over and die when he reads, “Namjoon pulls away briefly, lips slick with her juices, and licks over his top one, pausing to tell her how good she tastes before he dives back in.”

“That was nice of them to include. I appreciate their attention to detail in regards to my personal hygiene.”

“This is so embarrassing,” he whines.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Gimme. I’ll finish it.” He hands over the papers immediately.

Except you regret it immediately. The words you’re staring at are not words you ever thought you’d read or recite in your entire life. Not even for a million dollars. “Oh,” you say instead.

“See? Not as easy as it looks.”

“This is really embarrassing,” you confirm. “I might need another shot.”

“Y-yeah. Alcohol sounds good.”

Namjoon staggers forward obligingly, looks completely fucked out and pliant, willing to do whatever she asks. She remembers the sounds he made when she pulled his hair, wonders if he likes being bossed around, if he wants her to tell him what to do, to be a little mean to him. Maybe it’s different from her dreams, maybe he will beg her. She wants him so badly, she’d do anything for him. So, she pulls his briefs down to expose his absurdly large member, already mostly hard, and slaps it. Gently at first to see how he’ll react, and when he shudders and jerks his hips, she does it again, a little harder. “Look at you,” she whispers, “such a needy boy.” He whimpers at that, eyes pleading. “Please, Piper…” he whines. “Please what?” “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. She wants to, wants him so much, wants to feel him stretch her open, and from the looks of his cock, thick and long and drooling with precum, he could. “Should I?” she asks. She musters all her confidence to keep the condescending tone up. It feels wrong given how desperate she is to get him inside her, but it also seems to be getting him worked up and equally as desperate. “Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?” Namjoon’s cock twitches, and he begs, “I—I’ll fuck you so good, Piper…. I know how, I promise. Just… please?”

“Oh my god,” the two of you say in unison.

You so badly want to ask if this is biographical. How Namjoon feels about a little degradation; what he’d do if someone actually called his cock stupid. Ifsomeone has called his cock stupid. You dare a glance at him and conclude that someone’s had to. Namjoon just has that kind of energy.

But you can’t ask because it’d be weird, so you keep reading.

“How do you want me?” she asks softly when their lips part. There’s a wild look in his eyes, like he’s processing all the possible options out of everything he’s considered. And then it occurs to her. “Have you imagined this before? Thought about how you’d fuck me?” she teases him as she stands, stepping into him. Piper pushes one hand through his hair, brushing it back off of his forehead and wraps her other around his dick, squeezing a little for emphasis on her words. “Yes,” he groans as she strokes him, thumbing at the head of his cock. “Tell me what you want, then. Want me on all fours for you? Want me to show you how it’s done, to let you lay back and ride you so you don’t have to put in any work?” Namjoon’s breathing is getting heavy, pupils blown wider with each suggestion.

“I told you!” you shriek, laughing in between the words. “I told you I’d…” And then your gloating tapers off, because what happens next has your brain malfunctioning.

“All of that,” he whines as she lets go of his hair and brings her hand down to run a fingertip over his perineum. “Want all of that. Want to bend you over the table and fuck you right here. Hear your sounds in the microphone.” Even in her dirtiest thoughts about him, she hadn’t considered the microphone, hadn’t considered recording it. When she thinks about it though, it makes sense. Namjoon is exactly the kind of person that would get off to someone’s voice. So, she does. She makes a show of turning around and slowly bending over the table, sliding her upper body across it carefully until she can reach her microphone and turn it on. When she says into it, “What’re you waiting for?” she sees over her shoulder the way that Namjoon shivers.

This is… not good. You’re never going to be able to look at a microphone the same way, which is extremely not good for a person who supplements their income with a very popular podcast that requires them to speak into a microphone for extended periods of time.

This is very, very bad.

Namjoon must be thinking the same, because he lets out a strangled a-haaa that’s less of a laugh and more a plea to God, the gods, the entire gamut of higher powers that might be able to save him. No one’s going to, you think, staring down at the paper again. This godless piece of fanfiction will be preserved on the internet forever, will be seared into your mind forever, and no amount of praying is going to erase it.

“I should, uh. Just read the rest, yeah? Get it over with?”

“Mhm. Yep. Yes, please.”

Don’t say please, you almost say. You can’t take it; not after what you’ve just read.

So you put on a show. Steel your expression and your nerves and take it seriously. Use voices and sound effects and desperately try to stave off the awkwardness you know is inevitable because a smut fic is probably only going to end one way, and that’s with you acting out Namjoon having an orgasm.

Maybe you’ll have another one, too, if the author is nice.

It’s sweet, she thinks, the way he’s easy for her, takes his time with her. Strokes his fingertips along her sides and kisses the back of her neck reverently. As much as she loves it, part of her hopes he’s not always like this—hopes he’ll give as good as he takes, hopes he’ll put her in her place. She can feel his cock hard against the cleft of her ass, not even inside her yet, and still, she thinks about next time and the time after that. “Still okay?” He breathes into her ear as his tip rubs against her cunt. “Yeah—want you, Joon.” “Never thought I’d hear you say those words.” “I never thought you’d record them,” she teases, eyes glancing up to the flashing light showing the mic picking up all of this as he starts his slow slide into her. Piper falls even further forward when he bottoms out, letting her forehead rest on the table. He’s whispering filth in her ear, about how he has something to prove, how she’ll never want anyone after this, how no one can fuck her the way he does. She hates that he’s right. Each stroke brings a new sensation: sparklers, butterflies, nerve endings on fire as he fucks into her and licks and sucks at her neck, her shoulders, her ear. Piper can’t even think, and this is what people mean when they talk about being fucked stupid, she decides. It’s perfect. Every time she thinks she’s getting close again, he changes something: fucks her a little shallower, moves his hips just a little, slows down, speeds up… It’s driving her crazy. “Come on,” she whines. “I’m so close…” At least she can tell he is, too. No longer able to sustain the dirty talk, he’s breathing heavily, letting out broken moans and sighs of her name. He’s moving rhythmically now, thrusts consistently faster. “Oh, fuck, Piper,” he groans, “Gonna cum.” One of his hands finds her clit and he rubs careful circles over her, bringing her to her peak along with him, no more teasing. When she comes, it’s with a loud moan into the studio mic, and that seems to be what tips Namjoon over the edge, too. His hips stutter into hers as he comes, her cunt clenching around him for what feels like forever.

You deserve an award, you think. An Oscar. You didn’t even groan when you had to read the word “cunt,” and that’s a feat in and of itself.

“Is it over?” Namjoon asks, words muffled by the hands covering his face.

“Not quite,” you answer. “There’s some aftercare, and at the end you ask if I’ll piss on you.”

Namjoon gags. “I asked you what—”

“Today’s episode has been brought to you by Stamps-dot-com—”

HOLY SHIT THE NEW PATREON EPISODE???????? Posted by u/pod-shipper 4 minutes ago NO WAY. NOOOOOOO FUCKING WAY DUDE THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY THEY DID THIS AS AN ACTUAL EPISODE WHAT THE FUCK WHAT HTE FUCK WHAT EHTU FKF DFGLKDG;L (+705) I wasn’t sure if they were messing around before, and I was quite critical of the “shippers,” but now I’m pretty convinced. (+423) ↳ we’ve been telling y’all for YEARS 😤 (+197) ↳ Glad you’ve seen the light, u/RandomAcorn2058! (+5) ↳ ugh. they weren’t messing around before and they aren’t messing around now. do you guys not listen to what they say? namjoon’s been dating, and piper got out of a six-year relationship just over a year ago. if they’ve had something going on for “years” that means they’re both cheaters, and that’s a really shitty thing to assume about them. not to mention it makes the entire point of the podcast moot. (-63) Why do you guys think Jungkook “wasn’t allowed” to be there? (+314) ↳ So they could fuck lmao it’s so obvious (+329) ↳ because it’s awkward af? would you wanna read porn about yourself w all your coworkers in the room? (+2) ↳ the “it’s awkward” excuse is sooooo lame he’s the one who found it and is the one who edited the episode, he’s gonna see it regardless. (+15) ↳ Tbh I’m more curious about how he even found it to begin with? Do they have a throuple thing going on? Like, why was he looking for smut fic about his bosses? (+38)

You do not get through recording unscathed.

You are very scathed. Perhaps the most scathed a person has ever been.

Jungkook texts the group chat sporadically throughout the week, cracking jokes and making memes at your and Namjoon’s expense which is par for the course and shouldn’t have you off-kilter, but something inside you feels deeply wrong. Feels like someone’s given you devastating news; feels like it used to back in uni when you knew you’d failed an exam and were just waiting to see how badly.

It both helps and doesn’t that the internet is so invested. All the clips Jungkook keeps posting have re-doubled your Patreon numbers, and jumping up a tax bracket never hurt anyone, you included. But all of those jokes and memes largely went unanswered by both you and Namjoon, still too close to the incident to find the humor in it from the other side.

The two of you had sex.

Not literally, of course, but you figure you might as well have with the way you’re feeling. The way you’re avoiding one another. Someone wrote a story about the two of you having sex and you both read it and something about that, days later, feels really fucking unsettling.

In a bad way? You aren’t sure. It’s not like you’re mad or upset or any other synonym. You just feel… off. Itchy from the inside out, and that’s far from the norm in your and Namjoon’s friendship. In all the years you’ve known one another, you’ve never once avoided each other, including the time you’d set him up with a close friend and he showed up 45 minutes late to their date and ghosted after.

(Unsurprisingly, that friendship had not lasted.)

Maybe it’s because Yoongi had always been there as a buffer. You aren’t of the belief that men and women cannot be platonic friends, but being in a years-long committed relationship nixed a lot of awkward interactions and assumptions off the bat. Even Namjoon had known Yoongi first. Had introduced himself to you in your shared 100-level psych course with a, “Hey, you’re Min Yoongi’s girlfriend, right?” because they ran in the same underground circles and Namjoon had idolized him from afar for years.

Pretty fucked up, then, that Yoongi’s off in Los Angeles with his hot new boyfriend and you’re on your couch, Holly at your feet, pointedly ignoring your texts.

“I’m gonna get a cat,” you say to the dog, trying to redirect his attention when he starts chewing on your sock again. Holly doesn’t offer any input, of course, and he’s a lot like his father in that way. “I can’t believe you have a stepfather. You’re a proper child of divorce now, Min Holly.”

There are a pile of unread texts you continue to ignore in lieu of showing Holly pictures of adoptable cats. A few more memes from Jungkook, one from Namjoon’s new phone asking to move the recording date a few days because “something came up at work,” one from the food delivery service you admittedly use too much offering 10% off your next order, and two from Yoongi. This reminded me of you, the first one says beneath a picture of an ice cream cone on the ground, and another one of him holding a water gun that says send me a picture of my son or else.

You eventually reply back with a picture of your middle finger, Holly nothing but a blurred brown blob in the corner of the frame.

That’s how it goes for the better part of a week. Namjoon’s work issue lasts four days. He doesn’t offer an explanation and you don’t ask for one, you just wait for the all-clear text and try to quiet the nerves once you get it.

You’ve never been nervous to see Namjoon before.

The more popular the podcast became, the more money rolled in. The more money that rolled in, the more you could afford nicer things. That meant going from recording in Namjoon’s living room to a bona fide office space. Third floor, an expanse of windows and natural light, thirty-five minute commute by train.

Today, it feels more like thirty-five seconds.

You can hear Jungkook’s witch cackle from the stairwell, and your mind fills in the blanks of Namjoon’s exasperated sigh. It helps, your brain reminding you that you know these people. You know this is Jungkook’s late gym day, so he’ll be in a pair of sweats and a hoodie that drowns his frame. You know that when Namjoon has work issues and feels like an inconvenience, he always shows up with two boxes of baked goods from the bakery near his place, and you know both of them will save the best donut for you.

So you walk in and Jungkook’s in a hoodie and sweats just like you expect him to be, and there are two boxes of baked goods next to the coffee machine. Both of them say hello and wave and, for all intents and purposes, everything is normal.

Except it isn’t.

Because Namjoon looks… different.

Not in a bad way. Not in a bad way. He almost always dresses nicely, always looks polished and put-together, usually because he’s either going to or coming from campus—fitted shirts, either of the tee or dress variety, and earth-toned cardigans; tailored trousers that are sometimes corduroy; polished loafers. Sometimes, if he’s feeling extra casual, a stark white pair of tennis shoes.

Today, he wears none of those things.

No, today torture comes in the form of form-fitting jeans and a t-shirt a little oversized so he can roll the sleeves. His hair is brushed back off his face instead of parted down the middle. He’s wearing gold jewelry that glints in the sun. A pair of off-white Converse high-tops. And, much to your horror, he’s also wearing his glasses.

According to the internet, Kim Namjoon is peak husband material, which you can usually ignore, but not when he’s wearing glasses.

You avert your gaze, convinced you’ll burst into flames if you stare too long, not to mention Jungkook will notice and that’s a ribbing you’d rather die than take. So you avert your gaze and pointedly ignore Namjoon, who’s talking about his work crisis to no one in particular. Something about a co-worker going on an unexpectedly early paternity leave, and Namjoon being asked to cover some of his courses until they could find a more permanent fix.

Jungkook asks a question you don’t catch. Because paternity leave means his co-worker and his partner had a baby, presumably via old-fashioned methods, and it’s not a direct mention of sex but it’s close enough to send you into a coughing fit you have to blame on your donut. Neither of them buy it, but Namjoon is a good enough person to look genuinely concerned. Reaches out, probably to slap your back, but the thought of him touching you is just… too much.

So he barely gets out an, “Are you o—” before you choke down whatever’s left in your mouth and cut him off with a, “Yep, all good!” before you’re scurrying off to the opposite side of the room like a little rat.

It doesn’t get any better.

Both of you are so stilted and awkward during recording that Jungkook has to be the voice of reason and call it, suggest trying again tomorrow. Luckily he has enough b-side stuff he can release if need be, Namjoon’s work emergency providing a decent cover, and he sends the two of you home for the afternoon with all the exasperation and incredulity of a disappointed parent.

Thirty-five minutes back home.

Thirty-five minutes to sit in the embarrassment of not being able to do your job. Thirty-five minutes to catastrophize and wonder what you’re going to do if you can’t get it together. Namjoon will keep the podcast, of course; you’ll be replaced with someone else. Maybe someone less cynical, maybe someone more, but undoubtedly a man. After this mess, you can’t imagine Namjoon would want another female co-host.

But as embarrassed as you are, your traitorous brain keeps thinking about Namjoon.

Thirty-five minutes to think about his glasses and his rolled-up sleeves and the way the denim of his jeans contoured perfectly to his thighs. Thirty-five minutes to think about, “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. Thirty-five minutes to squeeze your thighs together and overanalyze the way he stumbled over his words today; how he could barely make eye contact. Thirty-five minutes to draft a dozen resignation texts and delete them all.

You groan, head thunking against the train window. You’ll take a cold shower as soon as you get home.

That’ll cure you.

You get home and walk Holly so long he gives up halfway through and you have to carry him back to your apartment. You take a cold shower and actually find it pleasant once the initial shock wears off, so it doesn’t work to keep all your rogue Namjoon thoughts at bay. You make a simple dinner and don’t think about Namjoon sitting you on the counter and having his way with you. You tuck yourself into bed far too early and consider going back to therapy, because clearly something very, very bad has happened to your psyche.

Needless to say, nothing cures you.

But it’s a new day, and you’re determined to get your shit together. Yesterday was a fluke, because you’re so normal and so capable of being in the same room as Kim Namjoon.

Except—you’re not.

Jungkook’s there when you arrive, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Barely looks up at you to say hello, and barely returns it when you do. You double-check the time, because you can count on two fingers the amount of times you’ve shown up and Namjoon wasn’t already there, jotting down extensively-detailed notes, circling and highlighting and chasing down Jungkook to ask questions.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Dunno. Not here.”

You roll your eyes. “Super helpful, thanks.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes right back. “You don’t pay me enough to also be his handler.”

You bite your tongue. Arguing with Jungkook means you’ve already lost the war. Not worth it. But it still eases your worries a bit that he doesn’t know any more than you do. That Namjoon hadn’t only texted him to say why he was running late because he didn’t want to—or couldn’t—talk to you.

So you wait. And you wait and you wait and you wait. Jungkook lets you talk to people on his dating apps and tells you about his new gym routine until your eyes are glazing over. Orders food delivery for the two of you because he gets hungry after an hour and had already eaten what was left of the snacks before you arrived. Cracks a joke that isn’t really a joke about calling the police, because Namjoon still hasn’t shown up and he hasn’t said anything and none of your texts are showing as delivered.

You’re halfway to hour two when the office door bursts open and Namjoon stumbles through, soaked with sweat and stammering over apologies.

“I am so sor—I broke my phone again so my alarm never went off and then I missed my bus? And apparently they’re not running the regular bus schedule today so the next one was a half-hour wait, but then I…”

You don’t catch the rest, because Namjoon is covered in sweat and breathing heavily and a week ago you could’ve survived this. A week ago you would’ve cracked a joke and handed him a towel and told him to get to work. A week ago you would not have been paralyzed in your seat, transfixed on the sweat rolling down the side of his neck.

You are fucked beyond belief.

Jungkook elbows you in the ribs, bringing you back to reality. “...even paying attention?” You startle, face warming in embarrassment. Namjoon still isn’t looking at you. “This is so sad to watch,” Jungkook mumbles, and thankfully it’s only loud enough for you to hear. “Like some stupid shit you only see in nature documentaries.”

Well, you can’t really argue with that, now can you?

But you’re a professional above all, so you hum an acknowledgment and take your regular seat. Pointedly ignore Jungkook. Wait for Namjoon to assume his position as well, and you’re surprised to see the space in front of him empty. No notes. No script. There’s just… nothing.

“Are you okay?” you ask, gesturing to the space in front of him when he seems confused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a stack of notes in front of you.”

“I forgot them.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that, either.”

Your tone is light and airy, not at all accusing or confrontational, but Namjoon’s jaw clenches nonetheless. He scoffs, fires a shitty little, “Were you not paying attention when I was talking about what a horrible fucking morning I’ve had?” at you that makes even Jungkook flinch. A few moments of stunned silence, and then, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, that was rude—”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, and all of a sudden you feel too big for your body. Feel like there are ants beneath your skin, feel like everything is wrong, and you don’t want to be here anymore. “It’s fine. Let’s just—”

Namjoon looks like he wants to argue, but he just sighs and says, “I—yeah, okay.”

This is where Namjoon would usually launch into the intro, a dimpled smile already plastered on his face that’d drop as he discussed another failed first date with that brand of self-deprecation that makes him so endearing. This is where he’d say what have you been up to, Pipe, and you’d try not to groan because how hard could it possibly be to add one more letter, another syllable, but Namjoon seems incapable of it. This is the part that, for three years, has been seamless and easy and instinctual, just two friends having a conversation.

There’s a red light on your microphones that indicates you’re recording. It’s on and it mocks you, because Namjoon is not doing the intro or telling you about a failed date. He doesn’t use that cringey nickname. He doesn’t say anything at all. His mouth opens and shuts and no words come out. What’s worse is that you know exactly why he can’t speak, because you’re thinking about it, too.

“So, uh,” you begin, and Jungkook makes a gagging sound from behind you. “Come here often?”

Namjoon ignores you. “Right, right, the intro…” He sucks in a breath. “Welcome back to another episode of Put Him in the Trash, I’m—”

“Joon—”

“Namjoon, and my co-host here is—”

“Joon, that’s not—”

“Piper. Wait, why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s not the name of our podcast.”

“Huh?”

“You said Put Him in the Trash.” Namjoon just blinks. “It’s Place Him Gently in the Garbage.”

“Is it? Since when?”

“Since forever?”

He looks at Jungkook, who is hiding behind his hands. “Is she right?”

A beat of silence. “I can’t do this,” he half-shouts, half-whines. “Are you two going to be like this forever? Because if you are, I’m quitting. I’m so serious. I’m gonna quit. I can’t take it anymore. The two of you are insufferable.” Another beat of silence, before Jungkook stands at full height and lords over you and Namjoon. “Forget today. Just go home and try again on Monday. This is so—I’m seriously gonna quit.”

Yoongi comes on Saturday afternoon to pick up Holly.

Yijeong isn’t with him, which is almost disappointing. Now that he’s dating again, you were looking forward to seeing just how awkward it could get with the three of you in the same room, but he looks good. Refreshed. The trip clearly did a world of good for him, and you can’t even bring yourself to crack a joke at his expense.

He, however, has no such hang-ups. “You look like shit.”

“Weird way to say thank you.” You click your tongue and look down at Holly. “Do you see how your father treats me? You should bite him.”

“My son would never. But also, thank you.” He flops onto the sofa. “You do look like shit, though. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not with you, preferably.”

“Oh, gross, is it a dating thing, then?”

“I—no.” You pause. It’s not a dating thing, but you still feel like you’ve got motion sickness whenever you think about it. How would you even begin to explain this to Yoongi, anyway? Someone wrote a porn fic about me and Namjoon. You remember Namjoon, right? Namjoon, that I’ve known and have been friends with since college. Yeah, that Namjoon. Anyway, someone wrote fanfiction about us having sex, and it fucked me up so bad I can no longer be in the same room as him.

No fucking way.

“You look like you’re holding in a fart.”

“You know, I’m getting really sick of you. Did you just come here to insult me?”

He snorts, but his smirk dissipates a few seconds later, a familiar seriousness filling the void. “We’re okay, right? Was the Yijeong thing too soon?”

“No,” you answer immediately, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “We’re fine, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.” He still looks doubtful. “You want me to start singing ‘I Will Always Love You’ or something? It’s just… weird work stuff.”

“Depends. Are you singing the Dolly Parton or Whitney version? And real work or podcast work?”

“Podcast work, and obviously the Whitney version.”

Yoongi seems surprised by this, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe. “Like, the podcast with Namjoon?” He presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek when you nod your head. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Like I said, it’s weird. It wasn’t, like, an argument or anything.”

“How weird?”

“You’re so fake, Min Yoongi. You act like you’re so distinguished and above drama, but really you’re just as hungry for gossip as the rest of us.”

He shrugs. “I’m not denying it.”

God help you, you’re going to rip off the band-aid. “Someone… Jesus, this is so embarrassing. Someone… wrote? Fanfiction? About us.”

“About you and Namjoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god—”

“About us… uh. Having sex? Specifically.”

“Oh my god—”

“Jungkook found it and thought it’d be funny if we read it for an episode.”

“Oh my god?”

“So we did? And it was really weird, which I expected, because I’ve known Namjoon for a long time, and I never, ever thought about having sex with him because we were together and me and Namjoon are friends, so yeah, it was fucking weird. But now… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about it? And now we can’t even be in the same room as one another.” Yoongi is a concerning shade of red. “So our show is gonna get canceled, because we can only release b-side stuff for so long until people realize something’s up, and it was Namjoon’s podcast to begin with so obviously I’ll get fired—”

“Oh my god, you want to fuck Namjoon.”

Yoongi sounds like a strangled cat when he says this, which does not help the way you feel like you’ve been hit square in the face with a frying pan. “No,” you argue, though it sounds more like a question. You do not want to fuck Namjoon. “No, no. No. It’s just because it was weird.”

“Did you forget I dated you for six years? I know what you look like when you want to fuck someone.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t be weird if someone wrote fanfiction about you fucking your friend?”

“Not if I didn’t actually want to fuck them, no.”

“You’re a liar. Get your dog and get out of my apartment.”

Yoongi laughs as he stands. Pats you on the back in the most condescending way you’ve ever had someone pat you on the back. “Let me know how it goes. No need to give me credit for your moment of horny clarity.”

Min Yoongi is a bastard.

Unfortunately, as you come to find out, he’s also a correct bastard.

You want to fuck Namjoon.

Which is… not great, you have to admit, considering he can barely stand to be around you, so you take another cold shower and decide you’re going to take this to your grave. You’re going to spend the rest of the weekend getting your shit together, and you’re going to show up on Monday and be a consummate professional. You’re going to look at Namjoon and say, ha ha, isn’t it so funny someone thought we would have sex? I don’t think about it at all because I am so cool and normal about it.

You’ve got it all planned out. You’re going to show up fifteen minutes early with your own box of pastries. You’re going to look nice, if not a little pretentious—maybe a nice sweater. You’re going to be prepared with notes of your own. You might even be nice to the villain of the week so Namjoon doesn’t have to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh at you.

And then someone knocks on your door.

You find Namjoon on the other side, and all your plans immediately go to shit.

Has he always been this tall? You can’t remember. You can’t remember a lot of things, including how to speak, because Yoongi had launched you into a crisis of epic proportions and now here’s the source of it, standing right in front of you. With all of his… height. And thighs. And that heady, musky cologne he always wears, that you can still smell now even though there’s an unfortunate amount of distance between you.

“Uh, hi.”

You blink. “Hi,” you parrot, and it’s a little insulting how one single word seems to have sucked up all of your brainpower. “Namjoon,” you tack on, not awkward at all.

“Sorry to just show up,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. Very bad idea; makes his biceps bulge. You barely swallow your whimper. “It’s just—my phone’s still broken, and it felt bad leaving things how we did? So I was hoping we could talk.”

Talk. Namjoon wants to talk to you. Normally: not a problem. Currently: big problem. You manage a nod, open the door wider to let him in, and you don’t think about how jarring it is to have Namjoon in your space. You don’t think about how your legs feel like jelly all of a sudden, or what it’d be like if Namjoon bent you over the couch, or the kitchen counter, or the—

You cough. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, sure. Maybe just some water if you have it.”

If you have it. What kind of person doesn’t have water? But you tell him to make himself comfortable and get him some anyway, and you mull too long over the size of the glass. Ultimately decide on a smaller one, because if things get unbearably awkward you can excuse yourself to the kitchen to get more.

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Namjoon says from the living room, and when you look up he’s sorting through a stack of books near the window. Some he’d lent you months ago, notes jotted in the corners, sticky notes in the shape of sea animals on important pages. “You ever wind up reading this?”

The Idiot. Namjoon had raved about it when he was in the midst of his 19th century Russian phase, right after he’d read a bunch of Tolstoy and Pushkin. You shake your head—though, judging from the title, you wonder if someone hadn’t written your biography.

“It’s good. If you have the time, you should definitely give it a shot.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, handing over his water. You take a seat in an armchair, pull your knees to your chest. Namjoon’s still looking through your books, isn’t looking at you, so it feels safe to say, “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He moves to sit on the floor, massive thighs spreading until he’s comfortable. Thank god he can’t see the look on your face. “I just wanted to make sure we’re alright. Things have felt pretty weird since we filmed the, uh.” He coughs. “Thing.”

“Right, yeah.” You realize he’s waiting for an answer, and you offer up a very rushed, “We’re fine, Joon.”

“Are you sure?”

Yeah, you’re sure: sure you absolutely cannot be having this conversation in the safety and sanctity of your own home. It’s tainted now, contaminated by all your uncontrolled horny thoughts about the man in front of you. You’ll have to fumigate. Might have to pick up and move, actually, or call an exorcist.

“I’m sure,” you assure him. “The… thing… was weird, but it’s fine. Temporary.”

“Do you think we shouldn’t have done it?”

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Because, in isolation, reading a porn fic about yourselves wasn’t a big deal. No one got hurt. Everyone who needed to be consulted was consulted. The episode made the two of you a lot of money, and Jungkook even promised to send some of it to the author, so your bases are beyond covered.

So, should you have done it? There wasn’t a good enough reason not to, because the story itself was never the problem.

The problem is staring you right in the face. It’s sitting on your floor, a book cracked in half at the spine and forgotten in his lap. The problem is looking at you like you hold all the answers to the universe’s secrets, and it’s no small thing to be looked at like that. The problem is that Namjoon is looking at you like that from across the room but you’re wondering what it’d look like from on top of you.

The problem is that you’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, have known him even longer, and you’ve just realized today that you want to have sex with him.

And you can’t say that, can you, because Namjoon came here to fix things which really does not lend itself to a hookup. Namjoon cares about your friendship and your working relationship so much he came here to try and salvage it, so you’re going to keep your mouth shut. You’re going to say, “I think it’s okay that we did,” and leave it at that. Because it is okay.

Because you’re the problem.

It feels like a small victory when Namjoon sags in relief. When he exhales and says, “Okay, good, because I think so, too.”

“It made us a lot of money,” you tack on.

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he laughs. “Right? Like, that was almost too much money. Just to watch us read porn?”

“About ourselves. I think that was the selling point.”

He stands. You do, too. “Never thought I’d be doing that,” he says, returning the book to where it belongs. “Definitely the most embarrassing thing I’ve done for money.”

“Being a man with a podcast wasn’t embarrassing enough?”

He snorts. Gets closer to the door. “Hey now.” You’re going to survive this. “Thanks for entertaining me, by the way. For a second there I was really worried we’d fucked it all up.”

Just the ending. Just one more thing to say and you’ll be done with this, and then you can take your third cold shower in recent memory and triple text Yoongi with a full-fledged mental breakdown. Maybe he’ll bring Holly back and you can register him as your emotional support animal.

And Namjoon must sense the awkwardness that’s crept back in, because he tries to cover it with a joke. Says, “Haaa, like you’d actually piss on me, right?”

Except it sounds like he’s got a mouth full of marbles.

It’s no wonder you mishear him.

Because he says like you’d actually piss on me but you hear like you’d actually kiss me, and there isn’t a universe that exists in which the following makes sense: you, stunned into silence in the doorframe, Namjoon saying his goodbyes, you thinking fuck it, last chance and saying, “Yeah, I’d kiss you.”

Namjoon stops dead in his tracks. “What?”

Your entire body is on fire. “Is, uh. Is that not what you said?”

“I don’t think it matters anymore what I said.”

“I’d argue that it does, for the sake of my digni—”

“You’d kiss me?” Namjoon… doesn’t look put off of the idea, which is surely a point in your favor. Interesting to note that his diction is crystal clear, now. Bastard. “You’d kiss me right now?”

There’s also no explanation for the way you say: “It’s only been an option for ten seconds and you’re already begging for it?”

You’d say there’s no explanation for the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches, the way he repeats I don’t beg for anything, but maybe the simple fact is: the two of you want to fuck each other. And, judging from the way Namjoon crowds your space, keeps dropping his gaze to your mouth, it seems very likely to happen.

All that fixating you’d done on Namjoon’s thighs was wasted, you think, as you take in the shape of his mouth. His lips. The way his tongue darts out to run along the bottom at the last second before he reaches out, tilts your head up, and finally presses his mouth to yours.

And you’ve got to laugh, because no piece of written fiction could ever accurately portray what it feels like. How soft his lips are. The way he touches you—gentle, but still dominant enough to have you moving the way he wants, have you backing up into your apartment so he can smile against your mouth as he closes the door behind him.

No piece of fiction would get it right, the way you’re unsteady on your feet, breathless at the way Namjoon’s kissing you. How he only breaks apart long enough to ask where do you want me in that throaty, deep voice of his. How you’re so overwhelmed you can’t decide: unsure if you want to waste the time it’d take to get to your bedroom, but if it’s only going to happen once, wanting to make it count.

So you decide to risk it. Plant your hands in the middle of his exceptionally broad chest and push him in the direction of the hallway, and if the two of you can’t wait, can’t control yourselves, well.

But the story had gotten one thing right: Namjoon does kiss like a branding iron, hot and greedy. Namjoon kisses you like there’s nothing else he wants to do in this lifetime, and it makes you dizzy. Has you off-kilter, stumbling into the wall as you try to remember where the fuck your bedroom is and why it’s so far. Just like the fictional version of you, you also moan when he licks into your mouth.

“Should I do it the way we did in the fic?” Namjoon asks as the two of you cross the threshold into your bedroom, a cheeky grin on his face. “Do it like this?” he questions, pushing you gently until you’re on the back in the middle of your bed, chest heaving as you lift your head to look at him.

Namjoon is so, so big from where you lay, just hovering at the foot of your bed. Cheeks ruddy, bulge prominent. “What’d you say you wanted?”

Takes a second to remember how to breathe, let alone what you’d read. What do you want, Namjoon had asked, right before he’d sank to his knees in front of you. “Whatever you’re willing to give,” you answer.

Namjoon smiles. Puts one knee on the bed, and the way it dips beneath his weight is unsettling. Why does he have to be so fucking large. “That’s right, baby.” Christ, you think, because there’s another thing that fic had gotten right. No one on earth would be immune to Namjoon calling them baby in that tone of voice.

The riposte biting at the back of your teeth gets swallowed whole as Namjoon grabs your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed. “May I?” he asks, hands poised above the waistline of your leggings. You nod, and Namjoon drags down your underwear with them. “Fuck, look at you,” he groans, awe creeping into the edge of his words.

“You want me to do it the same way? Hm? You’re being awfully quiet; thought you were giving me shit about being the one in charge,” he chides.

Because you’re short-circuiting. Namjoon’s on his knees, just like you’d envisioned, and his mouth is dangerously close to your cunt. How can you be expected to think and speak under these conditions? But if Namjoon can find the brainpower to be a bastard, so can you, because what you’d read and the way he’d reacted can both never be forgotten. So you thread your hands into his hair and pull. The resulting moan is enough to sustain you for years.

“Are you gonna keep running your mouth, or are you gonna make me come on it?”

He blinks. “Jesus Christ.”

There’s precedent. Fictional Namjoon ate you out like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough. Had fictional you writhing and insatiable, so it’s a lot to live up to, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. He hesitates for only a second, giving you one last chance to back out before the two of you set every last boundary on fire, and then he’s settling between your thighs and making you see stars.

Now you know what it’s like. Now you don’t have to rely on fiction, and it doesn’t matter because it’d never compare to the way Namjoon feels as he works to bring you to your ruin. The way he flattens his tongue to lick long, thick stripes; the way his lips suction around your clit. The way it feels when he groans against your core. The way he says, “Fuck, you do taste good,” like that’s a completely normal thing to say. Like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you.

But you need more and Namjoon knows it. His mouth doesn’t leave your cunt for a second, but his fingers find your mouth, so you put on a show. Wrap your lips around them, suck on them the way he’s doing to you, make sure they’re slick. Namjoon groans again, doubles his efforts. Slides one thick finger inside of you and barely lets you adjust before he’s adding a second.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Namjoon has you unraveling. Presses incessantly on a spot that has your vision whiting out. Has you trembling, a little panicked as you say, “Joon, fuck—Namjoon, wait—” as it builds and builds and builds.

You might black out for a second, because you come to and Namjoon looks… stunned. He looks like he can’t believe any of what just happened, and you blink a few times, try to come back into your body, and when you regain enough consciousness, you’re extremely aware of the large wet patch beneath you.

“Um—”

“Holy shit.”

“Namjoon, that’s not—that’s embarrassing—can you grab a—”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Presses the taste of you into your skin, and all those silly protests die in your throat, because if Namjoon was needy before, he’s desperate now. Covers your body with his own, hips dipping down low enough to press his erection into the juncture of your thigh, and the weight of him is delicious. Has you fisting the fabric of his t-shirt to pull him closer, has you pulling it over his head, his pants following. Has your hands skimming down every thick part of his body until you reach his cock, hard and aching and slick with pre-cum.

“I need to suck you off later,” you say, done with overthinking. Time to just be honest, and Kim Namjoon has a dick you need to feel down your throat. “Remind me.”

He whines, thrusts into your hand a little harder. “How could I forget that?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t know if this would be the only time,” you answer. “Did you bring a condom?” Namjoon nods, fetches one from his wallet and rolls it on.

He hovers above you again. Looks nervous, all of a sudden, like he can’t tell his lefts from his rights. All out of sorts. You’re about to tell him it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to, don’t have to do anything at all, when he says, “It doesn’t have to be.” You just stare. “The only time.”

There’s a conversation to be had. You know that. Both of you clearly have feelings you need to talk about and sort out, but you reckon they can wait. They’ll still be there in the afterglow, in the morning. So you nod, say okay, Joon, and kiss away the insecurities that still linger.

You think about the fic. Think maybe Namjoon would appreciate it if you cracked a stupid joke, just like he’d tried to do earlier. “Has anyone ever called your cock stupid?”

He laughs, breath fanning against your skin. “No. Wanna try it and see what happens?”

Might as well. You try to remember the exaggerated tone of voice you’d used. Repeat the line—“Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?”—and wait.

There’s a beat of silence, and then—

Namjoon swallows thickly. “I, um. Unfortunately, I think that really works for me.” You laugh. Pull him closer. Wrap your legs around his waist as he starts to move against you. Has jokes of his own. “Please. Please let me fuck you.”

You roll your eyes, laugh tapering into a giggle. “Do you know how?” Namjoon nods, looking all too much like a puppy eager to please its owner. “Do you promise?” He nods again. “Okay. Okay, come here.”

You expect him to move fast; expect the first time to be frenzied and a little awkward. It isn’t. Namjoon lines himself up and pushes the smallest bit inside, and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. Threads your fingers together, squeezes your hand. Pushes further inside and mumbles praise just beneath your ear.

It’s dizzying, the amount of care Namjoon handles you with. How soft he is. Does nothing to ease the discomfort of the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, but he talks you through it. Tells you how good you feel, how beautiful you look. Spills a lot of words you’d probably be embarrassed to hear and he’d be embarrassed to say if this was any other time, but in the heat of the moment it all just works to unravel you faster.

He bottoms out. “Okay?” he asks, and you’re rewarded with a dimpled smile when you say you are. Namjoon is a devastating kind of beautiful.

But, as he gives you time to adjust and you give him the all-clear, he also fucks like a demon. What once was hand-holding is now your wrists pinned to the bed, your body caged beneath him as he rolls his hips at a pace that has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’ve been deceived. Lured into a false sense of security.

It’s almost a shame this isn’t being recorded, because you want to memorize all the sounds Namjoon’s making. Want to hear them for the rest of your life. Don’t want anyone else to be the reason he sounds like this, and as he ups his pace and presses his lips to your neck, you don’t want to sound like this because of anyone else, either.

Maybe one of those times in the future, you can talk him into it.

Namjoon reaches down, rubs circles into your clit. Every time you think you might be close, he pulls his hand away, smiles like the devil. You let him have his fun for a while, let him think you’re keen to lie back and take it, and then you tighten your legs around his waist and flip him onto his back.

He doesn’t think it’s very funny. Looks up at you all bewildered. “What’re you—”

“You were taking too long,” you snark. “Figured I’d take matters into my own hands.”

“Yeah? Shit,” he says as you begin to move. “Fuck, baby, like that. Ride me just like that.”

You do. Don’t change a thing, because Namjoon’s cock is long and thick enough to hit exactly where you need it to. You can feel yourself clenching, feel yourself getting wetter, and the sight of Namjoon beneath you does nothing to stave off the inevitable. He looks even better than you’d imagined: skin flushed, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, sweat-slick. You want to make him cry. Want to give him the entire world. You will.

Namjoon thrusts at the same time you roll your hips, and that’s what does it. Has you crying out, has stars flashing behind your eyelids. Has you saying fuck, fuck, fuck as he drives you over the edge for the second time. Has you on the brink of oversensitive as he thrusts a few more times to chase his own end, almost delirious at the way Namjoon moans as he spills into the condom.

Has you swooning, just a bit, at the dopey way Namjoon smiles at you, eyes half-lidded and crinkled at the corners.

“Was that okay?”

You snort. “Yeah, I’d say it was decent.”

“Maybe next time you could pee on me,” he jokes.

You whack him on the chest. “Sure. Or we could record it.”

Has you a little shocked at the way his cock twitches inside of you at the mention of it.

On Monday, you don’t wear a pretentious sweater.

When you stroll in, Jungkook’s already got the best donut shoved halfway into his mouth because he’s a shithead. He eyes you warily, probably hoping with all his hope that you spent the weekend finding God and getting your shit together.

And then he realizes you’ve got on Namjoon’s hoodie and he nearly chokes to death.

“What the fuck are you wearing—”

Namjoon appears at that very moment, and it’s so hard not to take credit for the way he’s glowing, the dazed smile on his face. But Jungkook notices, because Jungkook notices everything, and his gaze darts between the two of you: your hoodie, Namjoon’s face, your face. He opens his mouth, something inappropriate bound to spill out, but Namjoon beats him to the punch. “Ready?” he asks you, and you nod.

It’s seamless.

No hiccups, no awkward stuttering. Namjoon gets through the intro without a hitch, and it feels exactly like it used to. Just two friends having a conversation. It’s obvious Jungkook still wants to say something, but after suffering through last week, he stays quiet lest he makes it worse and sends the two of you back to the bad place.

“How was your weekend, Pipe? Do anything fun?” Namjoon rolls his lips, tries not to laugh.

So you play along. “No, not really, just some dog sitting. How about you?”

“Oh, you know me. Had another first date on Saturday.”

“Did you? How’d it go?”

“Perfect.”

It’s a blessing Jungkook isn’t filming this, because your eyebrows raise so far they nearly disappear from your face altogether. There isn’t even a hint of hesitation in Namjoon’s voice, and although you would’ve described it the same way, hearing him say it with such conviction has you a little stunned. “Wow. You gonna see her again?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says, sharing a private smile with you. “I think I am.”

who the FUCK is namjoon dating Posted by u/pod-shipper 7 minutes ago This has honestly ruined my entire day. I thought all the stories he told about dating were a bit… Like, what kind of guy has a podcast about relationships but can’t seem to be in one? But you could just HEAR it in his voice how much he likes this woman he went on a date with over the weekend and I’m sick to my stomach. (+2195) ↳ bro you and me both 😭 i genuinely thought him and piper had something going on fr (+1302) ↳ Seriously might stop listening because of this! Any woman with self-respect would never let their partner host a podcast with someone they’re obviously in love with. If he gets serious with this woman, Piper will be gone within 6 months, mark my words. (+927) ↳ I wouldn’t worry about it too much! My cousin works at a really nice restaurant in the same city Namjoon lives in, and she said she saw this “date” on Saturday and that it wasn’t anything serious. (+788) ↳ Piper got a cat and Namjoon finally got a second date. Face it, it’s over. (+325) ↳ cannot believe him and piper aren’t dating.. do you think i should delete all my tiktok edits? (+4) ↳ this is unhinged lmfao i thought y’all hated piper? you’re in here bitching abt her being a “misandrist” every week and now ur gonna stop listening bc namjoon isn’t dating her? pick a lane and stay in it (-64)

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and reblogs/shares are always welcome! I appreciate you very much~ ♡

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jewel writes

4K notes · View notes

p0ssywhippedcream · 8 months

Text

Pining Piper. Piper who's heart aches, physically pulls on her chest every time she sees you with that smile. Piper who can't help to fall in love with you, even if she knows she can't have you.

You're larger than life, you laugh and it carries miles, moves mountains. You're contagious, skipping to breakfast hand in hand with a couple giddy younger campers. You kiss your fingers and wipe them on your friends foreheads, leaving them in reels of giggles.

And you've never been in love romantically, but you love so deeply she can't help but love you. You apologize to bugs as you trap them in cups and march them outside, you always have a drink mustache for a couple minutes after eating and when you hug, you tackle.

Her dilemma is that you're currently tackling her, spinning as you hit the soft grass and land on top of her. Of course your palm is tucked under her head as it thuds against the ground. Of course you're giving her a cute, toothy grin. Of course your cheeks are red from exhilaration as you excitedly ask if she wants to throw a slumber party and she wonders if they'd be red like that if she kissed you.

Your eyes are glowing when she agrees, rolling off of her and laying flat on your back as you animatedly talk about the details. By the time you've got to the cake mix and the movie options, two doves have landed in a wisteria tree. They sit together, fat bellies touching but the right one's wings stutter like its preparing to leave already.

You call her attention back with an excited face as you sit up and block her view of the birds.

"You want red velvet right? I know you don't watch many movies but I want to make sure you feel included."

"Yeah," She nods and her braids scratch the blades of grass, "Yeah, I like red velvet."

"Okay, good!" You shoot her a blinding smile that pushes your eyes close and she swoons. Gods, you're so pretty. With your cheekbones and nose, chin and eyebrows and with such soulful gentle fingers that fiddle with hers as you speak. You're fidgeting obviously, the ADHD demigod in you evident as you stutter and skip to another topic. So she really tries to not take it to heart when you bring her knuckles to your lips and give them a chaste peck.

And now you're standing up and tugging her with you, dragging her away from the treeline and beelining for the cabins as you talk a mile a minute. She glances over her shoulder and through your grass-messied hair and the birds are gone, wisteria branches waving in farewell, good luck, goodbye. She looks at you, admires your imperfect teeth, chapped lips and squinted eyes as you unknowingly break her heart.

Suddenly you stop and gasp, dropping her hand much to her dismay and pointing at something in the air.

"Oh, Piper! Aren't they pretty?" She follows your line of sight, catching a glimpse of pale wings before they're gone.

"What?" She asks, scanning for where the attraction might be but missing the doves as they weave teasingly from sight.

"The birds, Pipes!" You whip towards her dramatically, "You didn't see 'em? Oh, the prettiest birds and they were carrying this adorable blue flower together! Maybe a rose, aren't roses your mom's- or is that.. no, your mom has the..."

You conclude with a confused face and no end punctuation and then you're back to your own world, granting her access with mumbles of joy as you recapture her palm in yours and swing her arm.

Piper knows how Icarus felt. When he flew so close to the sun. She'd kiss you right now just to experience kissing you, but her wings are only plastic and they melt right off when you meet her gaze for a second before taking off, tugging her with you in a flurry of giggles and panting.

As you leave her sweating and dehydrated at the door of her cabin with a promise to meet her at dinner to discuss the plan, you wonder if such a lovely girl could ever love you back and she wonders if her mom really loves her at all.

With a sniff and a set expression, you resolve to kissing everybody's cheek just to feel her soft skin underneath your lips, to holding all the hands so that hers could fit in inconspicuously to anybody but you. You know her wrinkles though, and the stories her palm lines tell and you'd do just about anything to keep feeling them, even if you have to exaggerate your affection for others to avoid suspicion.

80 notes · View notes

eternally-racing · 3 months

Text

baby steps | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2.5k

summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?

note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !

---

When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing.

The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain.

“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave.

You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.

“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening.

“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”

While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice.

“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?”

“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?”

Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.”

You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando.

“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport.

Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.

“Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.

—

The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes.

Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him.

But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both.

“Oh my god, you’re here.” Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again.

“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe”

Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now.

When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered.

“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here.

You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview.

“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin.

Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.” Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment.

“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?”

“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.”

The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.

At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.

“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd. “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.

It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits.

Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights.

“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment.

You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined.

It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you.

It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.

You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far.

“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.

“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder.

----

author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍

2K notes · View notes

frickingnerd · 1 year

Text

fake dating piper mclean

pairing: piper mclean x gn!reader

tags: fake dating, angst towards the end, reader is called a coward (by me <3), break up (kinda)

ever since your ex girlfriend had broken up with you, she was constantly showing off her new boyfriend to everyone

your feelings for her were slowly fading away, but it still annoyed you how she was always bragging about that guy to anyone who would listen

you didn't think you would be this petty, but you decided to give her a taste of her own medicine and get yourself someone to brag about as well

and there was truly nobody that would fit the position better than piper mclean, head of the aphrodite cabin!

she was one of the prettiest girls in camp and she was the head of her cabin as well

plus she was your friend and it was easier to talk her into helping you out

sure, piper wasn't very thrilled about this when you first suggested it to her, but she ended up agreeing to play your girlfriend

though she told you she'd only do this for a few weeks, before you would have to break up with her

you agreed to this and the next day, you were walking through camp, your arm wrapped around piper – and everyone was looking at the two of you!

word spread fast and by the end of the day, your ex had heard about it as well – and she was just as furious about it as you had hoped she'd be!

you simply had to keep this going and the next day, you were showing off with piper again

holding her hand, kissing her cheek and hugging her for everyone to see

with each passing day, your ex seemed to grow more frustrated with you and your perfect new girlfriend

but eventually, it was time to end things. you had enjoyed your time with piper and you couldn't believe how fast time had passed when you were with her

despite the two of you agreeing that you would break up with piper, she was the one who approached you about it

she couldn't even look at you as she suggested it's time to end this fake relationship

but the way she said it, it almost felt like you were getting dumped by her for real

for a moment you could feel that familiar sting in your chest, the one you had felt when your ex broke up with you

but this was only supposed to be pretend. so why were you feeling this way?

and why couldn't piper even look at you? could she feel it too? that pain you feel when a relationship ends?

you didn't want to let her go!

but you were a coward, too scared to admit that you might've felt something for her!

you watched as piper faked a small smile and waved you goodbye, before leaving your cabin

you wanted to run after her and convince her to stay. to keep pretending a little longer. or maybe stop pretending and make things real

but you just stood there, staring at the door as it fell shut behind her…

96 notes · View notes

springtyme · 1 month

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐍𝐨 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ♡

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐈'𝐦 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Spencer Reid x f!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist

Main masterlist || can also be read on ao3 || Next chapter

summary: After having worked for the BAU for two years, you have seen and experienced a lot, but after a series of murders of young married couples, you’re asked to do something that you never had thought you would have to do; going undercover, as an expecting, married couple, with Spencer Reid.

word count: 5.8k

warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Undercover as a married couple. Pretend pregnancy. Language. Drinking. Angst and fluff. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Coworkers to lovers. Not set at a specific time, but definitely somewhere in the early seasons. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Mention of canon-typical violence.

The table is a bit sticky, and the music could be better, but the drinks are decent and you’re just so happy to finally be out with your friends after what feels like forever. Your job is demanding, and being an FBI agent in the Behavioral Analysis Unit means that your work-life balance is almost non-existent. But tonight, you don’t want to think about the gruesome crime scenes or the long hours spent profiling and investigating violent crimes, all you want to do is have a good time and catch up with your friends. And finally having an occasion to dress up and feel cute isn’t bad either.

Closing your glossed lips around the straw of your Strawberry Daiquiri, you take a long sip and let the sweet, icy drink cool your throat as you sit back in your chair, listening to the lively chatter of your friends. Michaela and Piper are going back and forth about some new movie that you haven’t had the time to watch yet, and you and Janelle, who is sitting across from you, are laughing at their antics as you listen to their debate with half an ear, but you focus shifts as Janelle gently nudge your shin under the table.

“That guy is totally checking you out,” Janelle says with a playful raise of her eyebrow, gesturing towards the bar with her eyes, as she takes a sip of her Mai Tai, while Michaela and Piper continue their discussion about whether the final plot twist of the movie was too predictable or an actual genius twist.

You can’t help but let out a tired giggle and roll your eyes as you follow Janelle’s gaze, glancing over to the bar and catch the eye of a man who is indeed looking in your direction, but you quickly turn back towards your friend again. “I thought we had decided to just focus on having a girls’ night out tonight, no boys allowed?” you say, giving her a knowing look. She shrugs her shoulders and smiles jestingly.

“You can still appreciate the view, even if you’re not looking to buy,” she teases, taking another sip of her drink. You shake your head, laughing at her antics, but you can’t help but look over in the direction of the guy at the bar again. He catches your eye and flashes you a charming smile. He is cute, sure, but not cute enough for you to want to do anything about it.

But to be fair, he could be the cutest guy in all of D. C. and you probably still wouldn’t do anything about it. You don’t really have the time or energy for dating right now and you are not really currently in the mood for meaningless sex with a stranger either.

Your job consumes so much of your life already, and you’re content with just focusing on your career, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Sure, it would be nice to have someone to share your life with, but what you’ve learned over the last few years is that most guys don’t understand the demands and emotional toll of your job. They either can’t handle the long hours, and all the time you have to spend on cases, or the gruesome details of your work, or they simply can’t comprehend the darkness that you have to face on a daily basis. And so, you’ve built up walls to protect yourself, to shield yourself from potential heartbreak or disappointment.

“You sure it’s not you who he’s checking out?” you ask, trying to shift the focus of the conversation away from your lack of interest in dating. Janelle laughs and shakes her head.

“No, I think he’s definitely into you,” she says, nudging you playfully.

“Well, I’m not interested, so he is all yours, Nell,” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as you give her a playful wink. Janelle just laughs and shakes her head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just here to have a good time with my girlies,” she says, raising her glass in a toast, making Machaela and Piper forget their never-ending debate and cheerfully join in.

Just as you’re about to raise your glass and join in the toast, your phone buzzes in your purse, interrupting the moment. You reach into your bag and pull out your phone, seeing Hotch’s familiar number flash across the tiny screen.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you say with a sigh, standing up from the table giving your friends an apologetic smile. Your friends nod understandingly, knowing that your job always comes first as you excuse yourself from the table and head to a quieter corner of the bar to take the call. You feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you, knowing that your night out with your friends is about to be cut short.

“Yeah?” you answer, putting the phone to your ear, not bothering with any formalities as you know that Hotch is going straight to the point when he calls you outside of office hours.

“Sorry to interrupt your Friday night, but we’ve got a new case, high priority,” Hotch’s voice comes through the line, his tone serious and professional, but you can also hear the tired edge in his voice. It can’t be easy being the Unit Chief and always having to be on call, but you respect him for his dedication to the job. “I’m afraid I need you and the team back at the office ASAP.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” you say, already mentally preparing yourself to switch back into work mode.

“Great, thank you, agent,” Hotch says, and you can hear the gratitude in his voice before he hangs up. You can only imagine how shitty it must feel to have to call in your team on a Friday night only a few hours after everyone has left the office. But that’s the nature of the job, and you have accepted it a long time ago, even though it means sacrificing your personal life and plans at a moment’s notice.

With a deep breath you take a moment to collect yourself, trying to shake off the disappointment of having to leave your friends behind. As you head back to the table to break the news to your friends, you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for having to leave them hanging. They all look up at you expectantly, sensing the change in your demeanor. “I’m sorry guys, I have to go. Work…” you trail off, your voice apologetic, you hate having to disappoint them.

Michaela and Piper exchange sympathetic looks, while Janelle just nods understandingly. “It’s okay, we understand,” Janelle says, giving you a reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry I have to cut the night short,” you say, feeling the weight of disappointment settling in your chest.

“Hey, your job’s important, we’ll catch up another time,” Michaela says, standing up to give you a supportive hug. “And we are really proud of you, just so you know,” she adds, giving you a reassuring smile as she pulls back from the hug.

Suddenly you almost feel like you could cry. You spend so much time burying your emotions and focusing on the job that it almost feels overwhelming to be reminded that you have people outside of work who love and care about you. “Thank you, Kay,” you say, smiling back at her. You hug the others and say your goodbyes, before you quickly gather your things and prepare to head out and find a cab.

· · · · ·

Spencer is abruptly pulled out of his slumber by the sound of his phone ringing. The book he had been reading sprawled open in his lap. The softness of the armchair and the long week of work finally caught up to him, and he must have dozed off. He blinks groggily as he fumbles to grab his phone. He squints at the screen, momentarily disoriented from being woken up so suddenly. Seeing it’s a call from Hotch, he quickly answers, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Hello?” Spencer mumbles, trying his hardest to sound awake and alert despite his groggy state.

“Reid, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we have a new case, high priority. I need you and the others back at the office ASAP, we will have a briefing as soon as you’re all here,” Hotch’s voice comes through the line, terse and serious, but also tinged with exhaustion.

Spencer’s heart sinks at the news, knowing that his plans of spending a quiet Friday night at home, recovering after a hard work week is now dashed, but he quickly pushes the book aside, already mentally preparing himself to switch into work mode.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he replies, removing his glasses that he had swapped his contacts out for earlier in the evening. Rubbing his eyes and sitting up straight, the sense of urgency now kicking in.

“Thank you, Reid,” Hotch says before ending the call, leaving Spencer to gather his things and head out to Quantico without delay.

As he makes his way out of his apartment and towards his car, he can’t help but feel a sense of disappointment at having his night disrupted once again by work. He had really been looking forward to a quiet night in, and finally enjoy a break.

Spencer watches the city lights pass by in a blur as he begins to make his way out of D. C., the reality of his job sinking in once again. He knows that as a part of the BAU, his work is never truly done. The cases are always waiting, the criminals are always out there, and the demands of his job are always pressing. And while he loves what he does and finds fulfillment in helping to catch the most dangerous offenders, and having his mind challenged, there are days when he longs for a sense of normalcy, for a break from the darkness that seems to follow him everywhere he goes.

With a deep breath, he steels himself for the long night of driving and work ahead, knowing that he may not see his bed again for a while.

· · · · ·

As you arrive back to Quantico, you rush into the FBI building, quickly making it through the security check. The heels of your stilettos click loudly against the floor as you hastily make your way to the conference room. The short, tight dress that had made you feel so confident just a few hours ago now makes you feel exposed and vulnerable as you walk through the sterile hallways of the building.

You try to pull down the short hemline of your dress, as you push open the heavy door to the conference room, but it doesn’t change the fact that most of your thighs are on display and that your tits are almost spilling out of the low-cut neckline. It is so rare that you get the opportunity to dress up and feel sexy, so you might have gone a little overboard with your choice of outfit for a simple girls night, or at least that is how you feel now as you’re about to walk into a room full of your colleagues, who aren’t that used to see this side of you, and are about to hear about the details of a violent crime case.

As you step into the room, you see that Derek and Spencer are already sitting at the big round table, waiting for the rest of the team to show up, Hotch is probably in his office getting more details for the briefing before the entire team is here. They turn their heads in your direction as you enter, and you can feel their eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary, seemingly surprised to see you in such attire.

“Damn, princess, you clean up well,” Derek says with a smirk, giving you a once-over. “You had a hot date tonight or something?”

You roll your eyes at his comment, knowing that he always loves to tease you about your personal life. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Morgan,” you reply with a raised brown and a playful smile, taking a seat at the table and crossing your legs and adjusting your dress as you sit down.

“Of course, I would like to know, that’s why I asked,” Derek chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “You come in here looking like that, and you expect us not to ask questions? I just need to know, is he more handsome than me, should I be worried?” he teases, earning another playful eye roll from you.

“Can’t a girl just want to look good for a change, without it having to be for a man?” you shoot back.

“What do you mean, for a change? You always look good,” Derek counters with a charming smile, before he turns to Spencer, who has been awfully quiet this entire time. “Isn’t that right, pretty boy?”

Spencer looks up at Derek and then at you, a faint blush rising to his pale cheeks. His hair is slightly tousled and he is wearing his glasses, making him look even more adorable than usual. You don’t know if it is wrong of you to think of your colleague as adorable, he is a grown man and exceptionally capable of his job, you respect him a lot, but you just can’t help but find Spencer extremely endearing.

“You don’t have to answer that, Spence,” you quickly interject, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. You know that Spencer can be a bit awkward when it comes to social interactions and you don’t want Derek’s teasing to make him feel even more self-conscious.

You and Spencer have become good friends over the two years that have passed since you joined the BAU team, you and him are the youngest agents in the unit. You have always admired Spencer’s brilliant mind and his ability to remember almost everything he reads as well as his sweet, quirky personality. You have a mutual respect for each other’s intelligence and dedication to the job. You have also noticed the way he sometimes gets lost in his thoughts or stumbles over his words when he’s nervous, and you have always tried to support him and make him feel comfortable in social situations.

But despite being friends and good colleagues, there’s also always been a slightly awkward tension between you and Spencer, at least on your end, it’s not like it’s there all the time, but you do feel it from time to time. You are not even sure where it comes from or why it’s there, but there’s something about Spencer that can make you feel slightly flustered and unsure of yourself, if you ever stop to think about it. It’s probably just because you admire him so much and don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of someone you respect so deeply.

“No, it’s okay,” Spencer says, his usual rambling tone coming through as he speaks. “You do look very nice, tonight. Wait, no, I mean, Morgan is right you always look nice, but you also look real nice tonight,” he stammers, stumbling over his words as he tries to explain himself.

You can’t help but smile at his adorable awkwardness, grateful that Derek’s teasing didn’t faze him too much. “Thank you, Spence,” you say, giving him a kind smile and reaching out to pat his arm reassuringly, hoping to ease his discomfort. “I appreciate it.”

“Oh, so when it is him you appreciate it, I see how it is,” Derek jokes, earning a playful shove from you.

“Shut up, Morgan, you know that I love you,” you say with a laugh, playfully rolling your eyes at him, which makes him laugh, but you don’t get to continue your banter as the rest of the team starts to filter in, Hotch enters the room with a stack of case files in hand, his usual stoic expression in place as he takes his seat at the head of the table to begin the briefing.

“Thank you all for coming with such short notice,” Hotch starts, his voice authoritative and commanding. “We have a new case that just came in and it’s classified as high priority. A series of brutal murders have been reported in Northern California. Local police have finally reached out to us for assistance after multiple cases after two new victims were found earlier in the day. They have all been double murders, with the assumption that the victims have been stalked for a while beforehand, and are then killed in a very specific and violent manner. All have been young married couples, all under thirty, and in all of the cases, the female victim has been between five and nine months pregnant.”

As Hotch continues to outline the details of the case, you can feel the weight of the seriousness of the situation settle in the room. You are usually able to compartmentalize your emotions and focus on the task at hand, but the thought of innocent lives being taken in such a violent manner always hits a nerve and you feel a chill run down your spine as Hotch describes the details of the case, the gravity of the situation sinking in. This is a disturbing and horrific case, one that hits close to home for you as a woman.

As Hotch finishes the briefing he turns to Spencer. “Reid, I would like to have a word with you in my office. The rest of you, start looking into the evidence and see if we can find any leads or patterns that may help us track down the unsub.”

You watch as Spencer nods in acknowledgment, it’s clear that he is a bit confused about being called into Hotch’s office alone, as he follows Hotch out of the room, leaving you and the rest of the team to start digging into the case files and evidence.

· · · · ·

“Please take a seat,” Hotch says as he gestures towards the chair in front of his desk, as Spencer follows him into his office. Spencer feels slightly anxious as he takes a seat, his eyes searching Hotch’s face for any clues as to why he’s been called into his office while Hotch takes his seat behind the desk. Hotch clears his throat before speaking, his tone serious and professional. “I have something to ask you to do, and it’s not a small thing,” Hotch begins, his eyes fixed on Spencer. “I need you to think carefully before you answer.”

Spencer can feel how his heart starts to race, his mind already trying to anticipate what Hotch is about to ask him. “What is it?” he asks, his voice steady despite his growing nerves. Hotch takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he speaks again.

“I’ve spoken with the local authorities in California, as well as our own expert and with the circumstances of the case and lack of leads, we have decided that the best way to proceed is to send in two undercover agents that fits the profile of the victims, and I want to ask you to be one of those agents.”

Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, his mind racing with the implications of such a task. Going undercover in a case like this would be incredibly risky, not to mention emotionally taxing and it is not something he has much expertise in.

“I understand that this is a big ask, but you fit the profile of the victims and your ability to think on your feet and adapt in high-pressure situations makes you the best candidate for this job,” Hotch explains, his eyes searching Spencer’s face for any sign of hesitation.

Spencer takes a moment to process Hotch’s words. He can see the logic in Hotch’s reasoning with the specific details of the case and the lack of leads; it might be the best way to proceed, and Spencer knows that it is only done when absolutely necessary. “And you’re sure I’m the best agent for the job, I don’t have much experience with undercover work,” Spencer says, keeping his voice as steady as he can while feeling the uncertainty within himself.

“You’re more than capable, Reid. Your intelligence and quick thinking are your strongest assets, and we have full confidence in your abilities. I would never ask this of you if I was not fully convinced that you are fit for this job. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I also know that you have it in you to handle it,” Hotch reassures him, his tone firm and unwavering.

Spencer nods, taking a deep breath as he processes the weight of the task that has been given to him. This is a very serious assignment, one he knows is crucial to solving the case and bringing justice to the victims. “If you believe I can do it, then I’ll do it,” Spencer says finally, his voice resolute.

Hotch nods, a sense of relief crossing his features. “Thank you, Reid. This means a lot to the case, and I know you will do a great job,” he says, his voice showing his appreciation.

Spencer reciprocates the nod, feeling a surge of determination coursing through him. It’s a lot to take in, and it takes his usually so fast thinking mind a second to realize that he won’t be going undercover alone. “Who will be the other agent going undercover with me?” Spencer asks, wanting to know who he will be partnering with.

“I have someone in mind, but I want to make sure that she is on board before we move forward.”

“Is it, Y/L/N?” Spencer can’t help but ask, his mind already considering the possibilities of who he is going to work undercover with, and you are the person in the unit that would fit the profile of the victim the best. He really hopes it’s gonna be you, even though a part of him also doesn’t want you to be put in a potentially dangerous position. Spencer knows that your skills and intelligence would complement his own in such a high-stakes situation. And most importantly he just really likes being around you. You are always so kind to him and you never fail to make him feel included and supported.

Hotch nods. “Yes, she fits the profile as well and I believe that she has the expertise for this kind of operation. I will speak with her and see if she is willing to take on this assignment. I trust that the two of you will work well together on this case and you seem to get along well, and that’ll be important in this case. I’ll have to be sure that the agents I’m sending in can deliver a believable performance.”

And that is when it really dawns on Spencer, the two of you are not just going into a dangerous situation together, you will also have to pretend to be a couple, a young married couple expecting a child. He had been so caught up in the seriousness of the assignment and the potential risks involved that he hadn’t even considered that part of going undercover with you.

The thought of pretending to be a married couple with you, even if it’s just for the sake of the operation, sends a wave of feelings and thoughts through him, too many at once for him to fully process. Sure, it’s all part of the job, but the idea of being so close to you and having to maintain that facade is a challenge he’s not sure he’s fully prepared for. The idea of playing the role of your husband, even if it’s just for work, is both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying at the same time.

But as Spencer looks into Hotch’s eyes, he sees the trust and confidence that his boss has in him, and he knows that he can’t back down now. He has a job to do, and he will do it to the best of his abilities, alongside you.

· · · · ·

After Hotch and Spencer left the conference room, you and the other agents moved back to your desks to go through the evidence and case files. You are now wrapped in the cardigan that usually hangs from the back of your desk chair and you feel a little more office appropriate.

“Damn, this is a tough one,” Derek says, shaking his head as he scans through the crime scene photos. “The level of violence in these murders is just brutal.”

You nod in agreement as you flip through your own stack of evidence, looking up from the file in your hand as Spencer and Hotch emerge from Hotch’s office, Spencer walking down the stairs to join the team, but Hotch stays back, his expression serious and you get a little surprised when he addresses you.

“Can I have a word with you in my office?” Hotch says, his tone somber before he steps back into his office.

You can’t help but feel a sense of urgency as you put down the file in your hand and get up from your desk. You pass Spencer at the foot of the stairs, his eyes flicking down to meet yours. “Everything okay?” you ask, a hint of concern in your voice. Spencer nods, but there is something in his eyes you can’t quite read.

“Yeah, uh… yeah, Hotch will explain,” he says, his voice slightly tense, and a slight crease is formed between his brows but the look in his brown eyes are soft as they meet yours.

“Okay,” you whisper, giving him a small smile, before you quickly step up the stairs, or at least as quickly as you can in your five inch heels. You feel a small knot of anxiety starting to form in your stomach as you step into the office, wondering what this is about.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you feel the weight of Hotch’s gaze on you as you stand in front of his desk. “Please, sit down,” Hotch says, his tone grave as he gestures towards the chair in front of him. You take a seat, feeling a sense of unease settling in your stomach.

Hotch’s expression is unreadable as he looks at you, and for a moment, you can’t help but wonder what all of this is about.

“I have a very big thing to ask from you, agent, and I want you to know that I’m asking this of you because I trust you can handle it. It’s a request, but the choice is fully up to you,” Hotch starts, his voice steady but filled with seriousness. “Due to the lack of leads and the nature of these murders, we have come to the decision to send in two undercover agents who fit the profile of the victims to try and draw out the unsub, and I would like to ask you to be one of those agents. Agent Reid has already agreed to take on the assignment, the two of you match the victim profiles, and I truly believe that with your skills and expertise, you would be the perfect choice for this task.”

You lean back in your chair as you let Hotch’s words sink in. So this is why Hotch wanted to talk with Spencer. Going undercover on a case as gruesome and high stakes as this is not something to take lightly, but with the circumstances of the case and the lack of current leads you can see the logic in it. It’s a risky move, but you know that sometimes risky moves are necessary in order to catch the unsub and bring justice to the victims.

“I know that this is a very big thing for me to ask of you, and I want you to know that I fully understand if you have any reservations or concerns,” Hotch continues, his tone earnest. “But I also believe that you have what it takes to handle this assignment, and your dedication to the job is unparalleled. I wouldn’t ask this of you if I wasn’t convinced that you could handle it.”

“I understand the gravity of this assignment, Hotch,” you say, your voice calm and steady, wanting to reassure him that you are aware of the importance of the task at hand. “I am aware of the risks involved, and if you think I’m the right person for the job, then I’ll do it.”

Hotch nods, his features softening. “Thank you, agent. I know this is a lot to ask, but I have full confidence in your abilities and I truly believe that you and Reid will be able to handle this assignment with the utmost professionalism.”

You nod in acknowledgment, a surge of determination coursing through you by your decision. You also can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over you at the fact that Spencer will be the person going undercover with you. You trust him implicitly and that makes you feel a sense of ease.

“I will arrange for a briefing with you and Agent Reid to go over the details of the assignment. You’ll also have to go through a training course while we set up a location for the undercover operation, and you will of course be given your undercover identities. I’ll inform the rest of the team about the assignment,” Hotch’s words are firm and decisive, and you can see the weight of responsibility in his expression. “But you better get home and get some rest. You have a long and intense process ahead of you, agent,” he adds, a softer tone creeping into his voice.

“Copy that,” you reply as you stand up from your chair. Soon you’re back down in the bullpen, standing at your desk as you gather your belongings and start to make your way out of the office. Just as you’re about to close your purse, you catch Spencer’s eye from where he’s standing over at his own desk, and as you give him a tired smile, which he mirrors, you swing your purse over your shoulder and walk over to his desk.

“So, Hotch asked you?” Spencer says as you approach him, his brown eyes meeting yours. You nod, the weight of the assignment settling in as you face each other.

“Yeah, he did. Looks like we’re partners in this one,” you reply, smiling at him once again.

Spencer nods, a small smile of his own tugging at the corners of his lips. You both stand there for a short moment, the weight of the assignment hanging heavily between you, before Spencer breaks the silence. “Do you need me to walk you to your car? I know the parking lot is just outside and that we have security, but still.”

You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for his offer, and you can see the concern in his eyes as he looks at you, but that is also when you remember that you didn’t drive here yourself.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you,” you say, feeling touched by his concern. “But I actually didn’t drive here tonight, I took a cab.”

“You took a cab all the way from D. C.?!”

You laugh at his surprised expression. “Yeah, I was out, I didn’t have my car and I also had had a few drinks.”

“You should have called me, I could have picked you up and we could have driven together,” he says, his tone filled with genuine concern. You can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.

“I appreciate that, Spence. Maybe next time,” you say, giving him a grateful smile. You know that Spencer is always willing to go above and beyond to help his friends and colleagues, and you can’t help but feel extra lucky to have him as a partner in this assignment.

“Well, you have a ride back home now,” he says, offering you a gentle smile.

“That’s nice,” you reply, with a bright smile, feeling very grateful for his offer. You had expected to get a lift from one of your colleagues when you drove out here, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to get hold of a cab this late out here, but it feels really nice that you didn’t even have to ask for one.

“Of course,” Spencer replies, his smile growing wider. Soon the two of you are stepping out of the FBI building and are met with the brisk night air, your feet are hurting and the cool air makes goosebumps rise on your skin. But almost before you get to register it, Spencer has removed his jacket and offers it to you. “You must be cold,” he says, giving you a kind look. You try to protest, but he insists, draping the jacket over your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you mumble, not feeling like protesting further as soon as the warm feeling of the jacket engulfs you.

Once you reach his car, he opens the door for you and you slide into the passenger seat, feeling a sense of gratitude for his kindness. “You want this back?” you ask, removing the jacket from your shoulder. You don’t really feel ready to give up the warm garment, but you also don’t want to assume that he offered it for more than just the walk to the car.

Spencer shakes his head as he settles into the driver’s seat and you watch him start the engine. “No, you just keep it.” You smile happily as you toe off your shoes and curl up in the seat draping the jacket over your bare legs, feeling like it is enveloping you in a comfortable cocoon of warmth and safety as Spencer starts the car and begins the drive back towards D. C.

The landscape passes by in a blur outside the window as the two of you drive in comfortable silence, the both of you seemingly getting lost in your own thoughts for a little while. The weight of the assignment in front of you settles heavily between you.

“I’m really grateful that you’re going to be my partner on this assignment,” Spencer breaks the silence eventually, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

“Me too,” you reply, turning to look at him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Another comfortable stretch of silence fills the car as you continue on your way back to the city. Despite trying to fight it, your eyes start to feel immensely heavy. Fatigue from a long day and the weight of the impending assignment finally catching up to you, and with the gentle lull of the car you never really stood a chance and soon you are starting to doze off, slowly sliding into the sweet embrace of sleep as you sink deeper into the soft car seat.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡ edit: it would especially be nice if you reblog when you ask to be added to the tag list ♡

Taglist: @luivisa @babyspiderling @reidsdaisies @eddioto @sadroses98 @lovelyygirl8

1K notes · View notes

neopuppy · 3 months

Text

I’m Here To Save You (M)

pairing. alpha johnny x female omega reader

genre. traditional a/b/o AU, friends to lovers, mild angst, fluff, pwp, m/f, one shot

warnings. profanity, alpha/omega dynamics, mating ceremony, pack head Alpha Johnny, size difference, use of Alpha voice, dominant but soft Johnny. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 15k

now playing. pied piper//bts

smut warnings. unprotected rough sex, public sex- with audience, biting, breeding, knotting, etc

a/n. I am aware of Johnny’s actual tattoos, in case it needs to be said. my apologies for the floof🫤😑

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･

By now you’d wish to have gotten the hang of climbing up a tree.

Hissing between your teeth as you pick at splinters cutting through your palm, you lean back into a more comfortable position against a large branch just in time to catch a glimpse of the group of Alphas marching out of the village for a hunt. It’d be another week condemned to the stables cleaning horse shit if any of them were to find you this deep in the woods again.

For the most part you’ve managed to sneak around unnoticed, only catching the attention of a few elders who realized you’d been missing most of the day as you passed by and smiled inconspicuously.

Sometimes you just need to be alone, get away from the pack’s rules and hierarchy, all the duties and mundane tasks implemented. Even if your motive to distance yourself these days has less to do with wanting to be alone and more with needing to get away from a certain somebody that can’t seem to leave you alone.

“You know,” a familiar voice cuts through the trees. Long legs and thick brown hair with golden bits emerging before you can see his face in the light. “The day my father finds you out here this far from the pack, I won’t have any way to protect your ass from the punishment you’ll undoubtedly face.”

“He hasn’t caught me.” You respond, sneering down at your friend arching his neck back with a hand over his eyes to shield the sun and squint up at you.

“Yet.” He states, snapping his fingers toward you with his free hand. “Get down from there.”

“No.”

“It’s not safe!” He hisses, peering back over his shoulder to ensure the Alphas have made it past the clearing already. “For someone like you to be up there.”

“Someone like me?” You spit, ripping a small tree branch free to hurl at his face. “What the hell is that supposed to mean!”

He sighs, stepping back to dodge your weak attempt to hurt him. “Don’t make me come up there.”

“Go away.”

“No.” Setting his hands on his hips he motions toward the lake with his head. “Let’s go swimming, it’s a nice day and with the Alphas gone it’s pretty empty.”

“Don’t want to.” You sigh, leaning back on the thick part of the tree.

“Please? I already lied to Jaehyun to get out of hanging out with him today.” Reaching for the satchel laid on his hip, he pulls out a bottle antiseptic. “Bet your hands are really beat from scaling this ancient tree too. Come on, don’t make me beg to hang out with my best friend.”

Jaehyun’s your best friend. You want to snap back at him, huffing and frowning as you pick at a small splinter.

“The waters perfect right now..”

“Beg.” You say, peering down with a smile.

He chuckles, head shaking, pressing his hands against the tree. “Yeah? Should I get on my knees and cry? Would that make you come down?”

“Perhaps..”

“I said—“ with gritted teeth he grips onto the trunk of the tree firmly and shakes, adding kicks in-between. “Get down from there!”

“Johnny!” He’s stronger than you’d think from his gangly appearance, at least able to shake your position enough to clutch onto a large branch and curse as more bits of wood cut through your palm. “Stop it!”

“Are you coming down?!”

“Fine! You stupid neanderthal!”

“Nice one.” Catching his breath he moves back enough to grant you space to come down, reaching for your waist once you’re close enough to the ground. “I seriously hate when you sneak off without telling anyone.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You heave out of breath, swatting his hands away. Johnny’s persistent, grabbing a hold of your wrists and spinning you around to face him.

“‘No.” He mutters, tsking under his breath. “It’s a huge deal. Goddess look at your hands.” A frown takes over his features, kneeling down to empty his bag in search of tweezers. “I only carry these around because of you.”

“I’m fine.” You scoff, ignoring the sting shooting through your hands. “I’ll wash them out in the water.”

“And risk infection?” Standing back up, he grabs onto your wrist again, turning your palm to face him. “Have your mother blame me for allowing you to ruin your delicate soft skin?”

“And who’s to say I need your permission to do anything?” You scowl, attempting to free your hand from his grip that only tightens.

“You know she expects me to look out for you.” Ignoring your petulance, he raises your hand up to carefully dissect a splinter from your middle finger, gentle with each movement to not make this hurt more than it has to. “As future head Alpha I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” You snort sarcastically, rolling your eyes to avoid looking at the taller. “Pack Alpha this and that.”

“Right.” Johnny nods, dabbing a cloth drenched with antiseptic after each splinter removal. “This hatred towards Alphas, how exactly will that work and play out after I’ve presented?”

“Won’t matter.” You shrug, foregoing your struggle to allow him to bandage your palm up.

“And why’s that?”

“My mother’s a Beta, my father’s an Alpha.” You say as if that’s enough of an answer.

Johnny’s gaze raises to yours, biting down on his lip. “Mmm.. right.”

Squinting back at him, you shove his shoulder, nodding in the direction of the lake. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”

Too late, not referring to sundown but to the real reason you’ve journeyed out to the woods more and more these days. It’s around the corner, ready to rear its ugly head and ruin the one friendship you can always count on. Ruin the genuine care and love that’s formed between the two of you over the years.

“Loser has to clean out the pups dirty diaper can this week!” He shouts, running past you toward the lake.

“Johnny!” You whine, losing your breath to chase after him and grab onto the back of his shirt. “That’s not fair!”

“Hey!” He growls playfully, spinning around to grip around your waist as you tug on his collar and stretch the material out. “Let go!”

“You’re a cheater!” You hiss, aiming for his chest to punch lightly. “Be fair!”

“Fine.” He laughs, releasing you to drop his satchel and tug his shirt off. “3 laps.” Pointing from one end of the lake to the other he motions between the two of you, knowing you can kick his ass at swimming anyday. “Me and you.”

“Deal.” Shoving down your hoodie and shorts, you barrel into his side and run past him to cannonball onto the water first. “Loser!”

“Hey!” Johnny jumps out of his shorts, pouncing in after you, arms paddling rapidly to race after you. “What’s fair about this!”

“Me winning!”

You’re out of breath by the time you finish the last lap and bend over belly flat onto the rocks lining the lake. Johnny stops next to you shortly after, resting on his forearms as he mimics your position and swallows down air.

“Hey, I’m getting better at this.” He says breathlessly, stomach sucking in and out.

“Only because you’ve had an insane growth spurt..” you mumble, bracing your arms to shove out of the lake and move to the dry patch of grass nearby.

He takes a few more minutes to bask in the sun, skin glistening with golden rays streaming across his back and shoulders. The hours spent outside during summer really brightened up his complexion, painting his hair with light brassy streaks. It’s the same every year, as if the sun wants to be around him at all times, melting into his skin and soft brown eyes as he lifts his head and stretches.

“Yeah, dad measured me the other day.” He responds after a while, lifting his long torso to push up and out of the water and plop down by your side. “Grew another two inches..”

“Yeah, I can tell..” you mumble, looking away and rubbing at your arms.

“So, why don’t we ever talk about it?” He says quietly, picking at shards of grass by his hip. “He thinks I’ll present soon, like.. really soon.”

Instead of opening the door to what a conversation like this can lead to, you shrug and roll your neck back to crack. “Let’s head back before it starts getting dark.”

Johnny lets out a tired sigh, teeth gritted as he stands up and follows after you, grabbing your elbow. “Don’t be like this.”

“Like what?”

He’s silent for a moment, head tilted and analyzing your lack of expression before letting you go. “It could be years until we see eachot—“

“I don’t care, okay? Drop it.”

“How could you not care?!” He asks, eyes wild and bewildered. “Do you not care about me??”

“Of course I care about you!” You shout, tearing your arm away from him. “But this is inevitable, it’s your destiny!”

“And you?” He’s quick to cut you off, stepping closer. “What about you? Are you a part of that destiny? Because right now I really feel like you’re trying to push me away and forget my existence.”

If only it was that easy.

“There’s nothing more to be said Johnny.”

His gaze lowers seemingly disappointed, softly nodding, biting his bottom lip before a tremble can pass through. “Can I say something?”

No. Please don’t. Don’t make this harder on me than it already is.

“Fine.”

“Take care of yourself, for my sake? And please, stay close to the pack. Try to have some guilt in your conscience that your best friend can’t get a proper night of sleep while worrying about you running into a feral rogue or breaking a leg out there without anyone to find you.”

“Can you tell my friend that I’m not helpless and can very well fend for myself?” You retort, turning and stomping away back to the trail leading toward your pack's land.

Johnny huffs, shaking his head and gathering the clothes you both discarded, clutching your hoodie for a minute in thought. There’s barely a scent on it, a hint of your mother and father’s lingering, really nothing more than a light memory of the times he’s walked you back to your cabin. If not for the nice weather today he’d chase after you and tackle you down until you cover up, staggering behind instead to stuff your sweater up to his nose.

He shouldn’t, not even allowed to innocently scent you let alone do anything like this. His father would be so disappointed with him, always lecturing him about befriending a girl like you. Very stubborn and unruly, always disobeying the pack Omegas that only want what’s best for you.

But this could be his last chance to savor something from you for some time, because he’d never ask you to scent.. as if you’d ever let him. The smell left behind is barely enough to taste, most of the scent belonging to your Alpha father, smokey and musk. Relaxing against a tree trunk he sighs, clutching the material to his chest solemnly. As stubborn as you may be, he can’t help to think you’re hurting more than you’re willing to show.

You’d always been resilient toward him, avoiding him even after the first encounter you’d ever had.

The pack Alphas son that everyone admires and adores, all except you.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･

“Where’s Johnny?” You ask sheepishly, staggering nearby the head Alphas cabin too chicken to actually knock on the door for an answer. Things hadn’t ended on the best note yesterday, and typically by now your friend would have sought you out, probably dragged you to the canteen for a snack since you slept through breakfast again.

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun snickers, passing by with bags full of manure on his way to the stables. “You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?” You ask, mildly panicked.

Jaehyun scoffs quietly, glancing around cautiously for head Alphas presence. “He presented.”

“What?!”

“Shh!” He hisses, grabbing your arm to drag you along with him and out of the pack leaders' close proximity. “How could you not know?! Last night, head Omega had to stay with the elders because Johnny’s rut hit.”

“Rut.. meaning—he’s..”

“Oh come on.” Jaehyun rolls his eyes, flicking your chin.” “You always knew, don’t you remember the first time we met?”

Of course you remember.

When you’re five years old, you get dropped off at the learning center for the first time. It’s not much, depending on the amount of Omegas vs Alphas amongst your pack. No more than 30 pups ranging in elementary age running around screaming.

That’s when you meet Jaehyun of the Jung lineage. He’s the first boy to ever make fun of you. Stuck to share a desk with him based on the proximity of your last names. Jaehyun prods your cheek with the end of his pencil. Asking you why they’re so round, adding a jab by showing off the deep indents on his own.

He follows you out to the field when the lead Omega instructor dismisses you for break. Skipping along your side boasting about how he’s already begun learning archery.

“My dads one of the strongest Alphas the pack has!” He gloats. Drawing an arm back to shoot an invisible arrow toward the forest that surrounds your village. “Says I’ll be just like him someday, better even!”

Squinting at him, you nod, lacking the same enthusiasm he has. Opting to search for a toy to occupy your free time, you browse through the crates piled together outside. A yo-yo could be fun, once you untangle the string another pup had evidently left to be discarded.

“Hey!” Jaehyun smacks the toy out of your hold. Pouting like a petulant upset baby. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Why did you do that?” A taller boy interrupts the two of you. Bending down to grab the yo-yo that’s rolled away, hitting the toe of his sneaker. He lifts it up with a bit of inspection, beginning to unravel the string.

“..oh..Johnny..” Jaehyun stammers. His once bratty tone falling into a hushed one lacking confidence. “I was just messing around.”

Johnny, as Jaehyun calls him, concentrates on straightening out the toys string. Winding it up with ease and gesturing for you to take it once he’s finished.

“Should be all good to use now.” He smiles brightly. Having to lean his neck down as he looks over your lost expression. With the corners of his lips dropping to a pronounced frown, he blares Jaehyun with a cold stare. “Don’t do that again okay? No future strong Alpha of our pack would behave in such a manner.”

Flitting you with a rushed look, he turns away. Meeting up with a few other pups who seemed closer to his age. Jaehyun grumbles at your side, crossing his arms over his chest. His small foot lifting to a stomp for added dramatics.

“Great, now he’s going to snitch on me to the Head Alpha. I wasn’t even doing anything bad!” Jaehyun cries out. Sucking on his bottom lip in thought. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Nodding quietly, you loop the yo-yo’s thread around your index finger. Having to tighten it from where Johnny had left it.

Jaehyun continues to follow you around, quite talkative for a pup. Too talkative in comparison to you. Directing you to walk in any direction that wouldn’t bring you any closer to the boy that had clearly left him shook up.

“Do you know him?” You wonder. Glancing to where Johnny spikes a volleyball high above a net setup. The opposition weakened by a powerful collision meeting his chest.

“Pft, of course!” Jaehyun gawks, fitting you with widened eyes. “That’s Head Alpha’s firstborn son! You can’t be serious right? He’s most likely to lead our pack some day.”

The yo-yo zips up with speed, caught in your grip tightly, mewling over Jaehyun’s explanation. Cheers to your left pull you to catch sight of the pup who had helped you. Hoisted up off his feet by a group of others who cheered from a victorious outcome of whatever game they had been playing.

Johnny was destined to be an Alpha.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to hear the news that your best friend finally presented. If anything, you’re disappointed. You’d been too mean yesterday.. really for the last few weeks as if you could sense it coming.

“Since he’s presented, I’m sure we’ll be going next.” Jaehyun interrupts your inner turmoil, rubbing his chin. “Can feel my Alpha ready to break free any minute now.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, typically it’s somewhat of a domino effect. One Alpha presents and suddenly a slew of Omegas appear.. which triggers our Alphas.” He explains as if you’re clueless.

“Not that. I mean, I’m not going anywhere. Except to help in the kitchens along with the rest of the Betas.” You say surely, waving an arm out. “Maybe I’ll end up in the farms, wherever I get assigned to.”

Jaehyun laughs amused, eyebrows raised high. “Sweetie, you’re about as Omega as they come.”

Instead of letting the same comment you’ve heard most of your life get to you, you shrug it off and glance back toward the head Alphas cabin. “Will I get to see him again?”

Jaehyun hums. “Probably in a few weeks, you know.. when they start to separate us.”

Knowing you’d left things in a somewhat awkward place with your friend really dragged your heart through the mud, making your way back to the lake you’d been at just the day before full of regret that you’d been cutting him off and spending less time together. Perhaps deep down inside you knew the feelings you continued to stomp down into nothing consisted of a culmination of fear and anger. Anger because you don’t want to lose him, fear of what the future holds in store for you once you have inevitably presented. Fear that you will end up stuck with the Omegas until adulthood. Anger that you can’t seek Johnny to comfort your worries anymore.

Jaehyun was right, as everyone has always been about you. The domino effect took its toll on the pack, triggering heats and ruts alike until yours hit in the middle of the night and consumed you with the worst pain you’ve ever felt.

A pain of yearning and insatiable hunger, hunger that had one name written at the back of your tongue, attempting to swallow it down before your Omega could break free and shout his name out. Tears burned down your face as you fisted at your bedding and grinded your hips down, not even the strongest elixir of ancient herbs could quell your lust for the Alpha.

Johnny Johnny Johnny..

His name swirled through your mind, each memory and touch you ever shared, his hold on your waist and shoulders, the difference in size between you just this last year.

“Alpha..”

With 20 pack members presenting the council decided it’s time to move you onto your next step.

You pleaded and cried in your mother’s arms begging for her to do something to stop this, to let you stay with her somehow, someway. Realistically no amount of tears could stop the assimilation you all must face.

“It will be over before you know it my love.” She said sweetly, braiding your hair the night before you’re to move to the Omega quarters.

Won’t be over soon enough, you think, keeping your thoughts to yourself the more your eyes puff up. Sleep would be hard to come by tonight, knowing tomorrow changes everything. The days of being a young careless pup with lack of responsibility change now, cursed by your damn Omegan genetic chemistry. Because whether you accepted it or not, the chances of a Beta mating anything other than a Beta rarely ever led to the same sub-gender offspring. Even your mother always hinted and skirted around the idea of you presenting as an Omega, never an Alpha with your delicate soft nature, no matter how hard headed you may be.

“At least you will get to see your friends once more tomorrow.” She said as she tucked you in and kisses your forehead. “I’m sure they’re eager to congratulate you on presenting.”

Friends.

The only friend she’s ever even seen you with being the pack Alphas son. She knew very well how odd your relationship is, being that you don’t even come from one of the stronger lineages. Perhaps her prayers to the moon goddess to grant her daughter a prosperous future had been answered. Time would tell..

Sunlight entered your room right as your eyes were ready to fall shut after failed attempts of counting sheep to shut your mind off. Nothing could stop your incessant fear from escalating knowing what a new day would bring.

“We don’t want to be late, princess. It’s time.” Your father chirped happily from your bedroom door, gathering the bag you’d be taking with you later today.

No, of course you wouldn’t want to be late to the induction ceremony. Even with a stomach full of nerves as you made your way to the divided trails leading to sectioned off lands for Alphas and Omegas you tried to calm yourself, take deep breaths, fiddle with your hands until you had no choice but to ball them up in tight fists.

“My baby’s grown so much.” Your mother cuts the unbearable loud silence pounding in your head, smoothing loose tendrils away from your face. “You’ll surely make us proud in there, receive many merits and accolades from the elder Omegas.”

“I’ll do my best.” You say solemnly, leaning your cheek into her palm one last time. “I’ll miss you both so much.”

“Soon soon, angel. Everything will go by so fast, you’ll be back in no time.”

The ceremony to send you off lasted no longer than a few minutes after all goodbyes were said, staggering behind before making your way to catch up with the rest of the newly presented Omegas. You slowly turn to look over your shoulder, breath lodged in your throat when you find his gaze already on you.

“Johnny?” You mouth hopefully. He stands straight, stepping to the side of his group until you’re close enough to take in how much more he’s filled out in mere days. The once gangly long limbs now protrude with muscle, shoulders grown in width, and jawline sharpened with definition as baby fat disappears.

“Johnny.” You whisper, reaching a hand out for your best friend, now Alpha, to take a hold of. He visibly swallows, a tormented expression streaking across his face as he looks you over.

“I can’t.” He whispers back, blinking furiously. Tugging the straps of his bag on his shoulders tighter. “I can’t..”

He nods swiftly, turning his face away from you with a stiff twist of his neck to keep himself staring ahead. Pain scorches up your gut, burning the pathway leading to your heart as your hand falls limp by your hip and you sniffle back the onslaught of tears already rushing to the backs of your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He barely whispers before turning down the opposite path, leaving you with the last memory you’d hold onto for the next 5 years to come.

One last look caught yours before disappearing behind the fence meant to keep new Alpha and Omega apart.

Time. Only more time can make any difference now.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･

“I can’t wait until we integrate with the rest of the pack.”

“I can.” You say quietly, keeping your head low to not draw the attention of the lead Omegas walking around observing how well you’ve all begun to take on your roles. “I don’t dream of being mated.”

“Ah, well.” Minnie, the bubbly Omega you’ve come to know in your last year by no choice of your own smiles softly, tilting her head dreamily. “I can’t wait to be with my first pup, and finally know my mate. It’s all I can think about.”

Of course it is, you want to say, lowly humming and continuing to brush out the furs dropped off today. They carried all types of scents from the elders, council members, even faint traces of betas. Alpha furs are only to remain within the village grounds, nowhere near unmated Omegas.

“You really have no desire to mate?” Minnie continues to pester you, smile turning mischievous. “I bet I can change your mind.”

She seems more than up to no good judging by the way her lips tweak to one side before bouncing up onto the balls of her feet, pointing this and that way while hurriedly explaining something to one of the elder Omegas.

“Fine fine Minnie, take that one with you and be back on time to help in the kitchen.” She motions your way, cutting off the younger Omega before she talks her ear off.

She skips on her way back to you, bundling up a few of the furs you’ve been cleaning. “Told her we need to deep clean these to get the smell out.”

“They don’t sme—“

“Shh!” She rushes, grabbing a hold of your arm to hoist you up and drag you away from the group of Omegas working hard to brush out knots and stains. “You have to be quiet about this okay? I’ll get into so much trouble if the word about this gets back to the council.”

“What are you going on about?!” You grit, failing to shake her arms off. Leaving you with no choice but to follow along as she leads you past the riverbank.

“I’m telling you, there’s something special a few of the Omegas showed me a while ago.” She says excitedly, teeth on full display as she peers over her shoulder to ensure no one’s nearby. “Over here, these fences behind the leaders cabin.”

“We’re not supposed to go this far..” you say hesitantly, digging your heels into the dirt path to slow her down.

“It’s not prohibited.. but they haven’t renovated these parts in decades..” she explains, using extra strength to make you turn down the short hill that covers most of the fence. “They really should too.”

“Why? Doesn’t it just lead to the village?”

“Well, no..” he trails off, biting down on her lip deviously. “You have to promise not to say anything, alright?”

Sighing, you shrug and wrap around her pinky, unsure of what could possibly be so secretive about this area. She nods, pressing a finger to her lips as you step up to the area covered by old tree branches. “Don’t be loud.”

Releasing your arm, she reaches to move a few branches aside and motions for you to come closer. There behind the mess of greenery are two holes on the old tall wooden fence. You stop for a moment to glance back at her, nodding with her lips pursed for you to look through.

Nothing could have prepared you for what actually resides on the other side of the fence. More water that you didn’t know existed, the rest of the river that’s been cut off by this man-made fence constructed decades ago when the pack struggled to keep Alphas and Omegas consistently equal in numbers. The council decided it best to separate freshly presented pups into individual camps until they experienced their first heat or rut. Segregating the two sub-genders to manage future matings with annual runs. Their plan had been successful after balancing the scale, allowing for their pack to grow healthy and plentiful.

It’s been years since you’ve last seen an Alpha.. until now.

“Is..” you stutter, blinking rapidly. “Is that..”

“The Alphas.” She whispers near your ear, lightly tapping a fingertip against the fence. “They swim and clean off at this stream after their hunts, seems to be only the ones that are soon on their way out of the camp..”

Alphas, playfully shooting water at each other, laughing and rough housing after a morning hunt. They have baskets full of fish lined up near their weapons on the path, a few of them deeper in the water scrubbing their arms and chest clean with cloths.

“Our future mates could be here right now.” She beams, pushing her cheek against yours to steal a look. “Oh Goddess, it’s him..”

“Who?”

“Head Alphas son..” she murmurs off, eyes going lazy as she rests against your head for you to both get a look

Head Alphas son? But that would be..

How could you have not immediately noticed him, trudging out from the shallow end of the stream glistening under the daylight sun, shaking off the water cascading from his broad frame the closer he reaches toward the end.

It’s him, it has to be him. 10 inches taller than you remember, hair longer and framed around his much sharper and pronounced bone structure. The baby fat on his cheeks long gone, body built up from years of hunting. The pressure of having to be the strongest and most reputable Alpha evident in his intimidating stance alone.

“Johnny.” The name passes from your lips without realizing, widening Minnie’s eyes as she turns to look at you.

“You know him?”

Know him? He was the last member of your pack that you had contact with before joining the rest of the newly presented Omegas. Even sharing goodbyes with your own family before him. You knew he’d be an Alpha eventually, but you’d never considered how painful it would be to lose your best friend to the otherside.

The reality always loomed though. The pack Alphas first born son could never present as a Beta, Goddess forbid as an Omega.

“No.” You reply, clearing your throat and tearing your gaze away. “We shouldn’t be here, it’s against pack law to be in contact with Alphas while unmated.”

“We aren’t contacting them, not really..” she smirks coyly, trapping your arm once more. “Just a little longer? They’ll be on their way eat soon.”

You shouldn’t, should stand your ground and put your foot down against this condemnable behavior.

But one more look can’t hurt much.

One more look just to be certain that it’s him, that it’s really your Johnny.

He’s changed so so much, nearly unrecognizable if you weren’t sure of his residency on the other side of this fence.

“He’s incredibly handsome, don’t you think?” Minnie disrupts the one on one conversation happening with yourself, looping an arm around your waist to bring you both closer to the holes. “Can you believe we’ll be in the same mating hunt as our next head Alpha?”

“What??” You practically shriek, covering your mouth and pulling away.

She looks at you half amused, in awe of your clueless nature. “It’s been five years silly, the elders have been discussing lowering our time inside these lands to ensure a strong Winter. The moon goddess predicts we will need many healthy pups due to the severity of climate change that’s recently taken place.”

“How do you know all of this?!”

She sighs, wagging a finger in your face. “You never pay attention during the morning lecture. They say we could be out of here as soon as the next red moon! That’s only a few weeks from now.”

A few WEEKS?!

“Judging by the look of these Alphas..” she hums flirtatiously, turning back to peep through the fence and suck a long breath in. “They’re certainly ready to hunt, and I’m ready to be chased.”

“The mating hunt, is it guaranteed that all who participate will be mated?” You ask full of worry, dragging fingers through your hair.

“Of course, that’s the point of all this!” She says, clicking her tongue. “If I didn’t know any better I’d swear you were born yesterday.”

Stealing one more look, she sighs and bites her lip excitedly. “I’m so ready to be out of here.” Turning back to you she grabs your arm. “Let's get back before the elders catch on to us missing. Besides, we’ll be with our Alphas in no time.”

In no time. Too soon.

And as if to mock your worry the days tick by faster and faster, now very alert during your usual extra nap time in the morning. You listen to every word, biting at your nails by the third week as the elders rejoice that the forecast had been correct and the blood red moon will indeed rise in the next few days.

“Soon you will birth strong and powerful members to contribute to the pack.” They preached and flounced about full of excite. “Tomorrow we will introduce you back to the pack to prepare for the hunt. Not a hair or patch of dry skin shall appear on you! You must impress your potential Alpha suitors to desire and want to chase you.”

More thrilled than you could ever be about this, they began to distribute scent blockers around the hall. Instructing you all begin using them tonight to ensure no Alpha can trail you off scent. It has to be instinct and intuition to find your true mate.

Once you have presented, every pack Omega is expected to participate in the annual mating ceremony. Ensuring the packs healthy growth to avoid a desolate village.

Your biggest dread of presenting as an Omega subsided as you met your predator's gaze. Stalking around you with snapping teeth and no escape.

There was no way to predict the Alpha determined to mate you would end up being your best friend.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･

“I can’t do this.” You whisper, sneaking a watery look at your mother. The reunion with your parents had been too fast, not enough time to plead your case and beg for them to find you another option. She smiles stiffly at you, securing the braids she put your hair in with ribbons.

“Sweety..” she says between clenched teeth, blinking furiously. “Do not embarrass us. It’s an honor that you’ve been summoned to participate in the mating hunt.”

An honor? Giving up your freedom and shred of independence you can barely cling onto for an Alpha? An Alpha that will breed and claim you like nothing more than a whore?

“What’s honorable about this, mother?”

She sighs, painting your cheeks with thin stripes of oil to illuminate your skin and make you more desirable for your possible mate. “I only wish I’d been given the chance you have to strengthen the pack. Omegas are the backbone of our livelihood, without you we’d go extinct faster than animals.”

Popping her mouth for you to mimic she applies a smudge of red tint to your lips, standing proudly after to take in your full appearance. “Without a scent to trail, the Alphas will really have to focus on using their other senses.. and you look ethereal. Always knew you’d grow up to be one of the prettiest in our pack, even if I worried about all those scars you’d come home with all the time.”

“What if I refuse?” You ask wearily, glancing around at the other Omegas being prepped for the hunt.

“You’ll be exiled.” Your mom says sternly, tight lipped as she grips your shoulders to look at her. “Think about your father and I, please. We barely got you back.”

A mixture of guilt and rancid vomit combines in your stomach the longer you stand around and wait for the Alphas to show up. The elders have been greeting each other, smugly smiling as if they’ve accomplished something by forcing young Omegas to hand over their lives and become breeding machines. They gather around and announce the next generation of Alphas to lead the pack. You can’t see their entrance from where you stay hidden with the rest of the Omegas participating, not allowed to see any of your potential mates. Only able to swallow down the throw up that rises up your throat as cheers and roars pound through the earth beneath your feet. Alphas praised for merely existing, for being the breadwinners of the pack that ensure longevity and protection.

Omegas are the real backbone, as your mother said, whether she meant it or simply wanted to shut you up and finish dolling you for essentially a stranger to ship off with.

“This is so thrilling.” Minnie pops up next to you, her lips a deep cherry, cheeks stung with the residue to make her skin glow. She looks radiant, lovely as ever, so ready to show off a bite on her beautiful long neck. “I want to be caught already.”

Nothing could compel you to agree, silently nodding to resist the incessant urge to gag. Judging by the giggles and squeals surrounding you, no one seems to share your sentiment. Why would they after years of being brainwashed to want this.

She takes your hand, squeezing and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “May the moon goddess bring you the best Alpha.”

“You too, Min..”

A whistle blows signaling you to line up and ready yourselves to run, everyone scrambles around excitedly, leaving you at the forefront as the elders explain the ‘rules’ again.

“You are not to ever remove your scent blockers, you are to hide once the Alphas begin their hunt. You are forbidden to leave the pack lands, and if you are not claimed you shall immediately report back to the Omega sector until the next red moon. Claimed Omegas are to come back with their Alpha mated. Only once paired off may you re-enter the pack.”

It’s due or die, whether or not you avoid an Alphas claim you’ll never be free from this restrictive life..

The second the horn sets off you run, feet pounding to the earth without a second thought. Heavy breathing and laughter fades away behind you, distancing yourself further and further away from where most of the Omegas will choose to hide, you imagine. The same trees you used to wander through catch your attention out ahead, furiously quickening your pace at the sound of another horn signaling that the Alphas are on the move.

The same forest you spent days hiding inside of is just right outside of your lands, against the rules, but you need to wait it out long enough. Once enough time has passed and the Alphas make their claims you can move back to your packs territory. No one has to know.

Not even the splinters clawing through the skin of your palms can slow you down, hoisting yourself up the largest tree you can find until you manage to get up high and let out a sigh of relief. The pounding in your heart refuses to settle even so, hissing as you wipe your hands off on your tunic and try to adjust your weight onto a thick branch. Even at this proximity you can hear howls and cries, sounds of pleasure ripping through the tears as Omegas go down, claimed and gnawed at by rabid Alphas.

Time goes by slowly as you sit still and listen, sucking at your wounded hands to ease the sting left behind. It’s nothing compared to the mix of pain swarming between moans. Deep guttural Alpha wails break through the dusk, shifting and breaking bones as they take their conquests and solidify their claim with a knot.

Only a few more hours until it dies down, you hope.. peering up at the clouds that dance around the red moon. Orange light sprays across the ground, illuminating clear paths for predator eyes to seek their prey. They’d never be able to find you up here, unless..

A loud huff snaps your neck toward the entrance of the forest, cracking tree branches and kicking rocks as the sound grows near.

Large, terrifyingly large, medium brown soft with light hints of gold, and eyes you’d recognize even if you suffered from amnesia. Those sharp sleek eyes that you’d never be able to forget no matter how much you try. Why would he come out here? Why did he have to come out here.

There’s only one reason. Snarling and puffing large breaths of air as he slowly paws through and approaches the largest tree, listening attentively for any movement. Sitting back on his hind legs, his gaze lands on you without sparing a second, squinting past the leaves you’ve shrouded yourself with. He barks, baring his teeth as trickles of saliva drip down his jowls.

Get down from there.

“Go away!” You hiss, grabbing onto a tree branch firmly as he nears and clambers up, scratching his claws along the trunk.

It’s been years and you still insist on giving me the biggest headache.

“I said go away Johnny!”

Get down. Immediately. Don’t make me climb up there.

“I’m not coming down! Now get away before another Alpha follows your trail and figures out that I’m hiding out here.” You grunt, fearfully looking out as another large wolf approaches.

You need to come down. Right now.

“You’re leading him right to me.” You whine, moving up another branch to hide yourself from the Alpha passing between the trees.

Johnny’s teeth snap, biting at the air as an Alpha with dark fur growls at him, leaping up on his hind legs he stands tall above him, shouting at the new presence to get lost.

This one's mine.

The dark furred Alpha hesitates for a bit, egging the lighter to get his nose in his face, snout digging into the others until he whimpers and backs away, slowly making his exit from the woods.

An enormous sense of relief lightens the tension weighing down your shoulders, leaning back on the tree until a sudden huge ruckus shoots you to sit up urgently.

The Alpha down below backs up and rams into the trunk repeatedly, growling and smashing his dome forward until you’re shouting.

“Johnny! Stop! Stop!”

GET DOWN. RIGHT NOW!

His Alpha sounds vicious, ripping through your mind, causing your Omega to cower and frightfully shiver. Biting down on your lip to contain a whimper, you nod and gingerly set your foot down to make your way down the tree.

“Please, don’t tell head Alpha about this.. he’ll have me condemned..” you plead, keeping your gaze to the floor to not have to look your old friend in the eye. Shame, embarrassment and fear runs rampant throughout your system, lighting goosebumps up your flesh.

No one is touching my mate.

“What?!” You nearly lunge back, falling down onto your ass as you crawl away without taking your eyes off of him. “Johnny! It’s me! You’re mistaken—“

Quiet. Omega.

Slowly trudging closer to you, he stops to sit. Stance big and strong towering above you.

Present.

“Johnny, I can’t do tha—“

The growl he lets out cracks a whimper from your throat, rustling the leaves throughout each surrounding tree, echoing loud enough for even birds to flock away out of fear.

“You don’t want this, not with me, remember me?” It seems futile to attempt conversation with an Alpha in wolf form, feeling defenseless and defeated as your back knocks against a rock and the Alpha leaves you with nowhere to run.

Present for your Alpha. I won’t ask again.

“I-I can’t, don’t ask that of me.” Bile rises up your chest, digging your fingers through clumps of dirt as the large wolf nuzzles your face and takes a deep inhale. “This is a mistake, has to be a mistake..”

Lights blind your vision, collapsing on the ground when his scent slams into you. A husk leather oud infiltrates your senses, strong and rich, immediately swirling between each crevice until your chest caves. The Alphas scent is the strongest you’ve ever felt, dominant, enrapturing, near drug-inducing. The scent of a powerful Alpha, more powerful than you’ve ever experienced. Too much for your secluded body and mind to handle atop of the raging fear beating from your chest.

The Alpha nudges your limp figure a few times, softly huffing and licking up your cheek. There’s no point in waiting it out, already gone for hours since the hunt began, he shifts back and hoists your lifeless body onto his arms, carrying you out of the woods with ease. The walk back to your lands can take about another hour, knowing his father will undoubtedly be waiting for his return with a proud smile as his son triumphantly strides back through with his future head Omega intact.

Exactly as he imagined it, his father stands tall and full of pride, the smile on his lips slowly sinking as he sees no sign of a mating mark. Confusion flows between the two Alphas as he comes to a stop and adjusts your limp weight in his arms.

“What is this son? Have you not mated?” He asks sternly, leaning in closer to inspect your naked throat.

“The Omega, she fainted before I could consummate..”

“Ah, I see. Drop her off at the infirmary and continue on your way back out. Many Alphas have already returned with their claimed mates. You need to be swift and hurry now.”

“This is my mate, father.” Johnny states loud and clear, cradling you closer to his chest. “She is the one my wolf has chosen.”

Clarity evades the head alphas features, scowling as he steps forward to whisper. “You dare to bring disgrace upon my name with this unmated weak Omega? What have I taught you?”

“No father, I do not wish to bring shame upon our lineage.”

The head Alpha snaps his fingers, ushering his main henchmen to cover up their surroundings. “Get the Omega back to your cabin. Do not bring her back without your markings.” He orders, rushing two of the elders to cut around the village to his son’s cabin. “I will not have you humiliate my name with your choice.”

Johnny nods without protest, following along with the elders that obscure your bodies behind veiled cloaks. At least in his cabin he can help you get proper rest and keep an eye on you.

“Get her inside.” One of the elders says in a hushed voice, covering the entrance to his cabin. “Listen to me my boy, if that Omega exits your sights without a mark, I don’t want to jump to conclusions of what your father may pull, but it won’t be pleasant.”

He nods assuredly, thanking the older Alpha for helping him before leading you to his furs to lay upon. At least this way you can become accustomed to his scent, enough to keep you stable even if it overwhelms you. He should have anticipated that you’d be difficult to deal with even now after all of this time apart. You’ve grown a lot, as has he, but clearly your disdain towards Alphas hasn’t changed much.

He wonders for a moment if he should have just walked away when Jaehyun showed up with intent to mate you. The thought alone makes his Alpha scream at the top of its lungs, clenching his fist and shaking his head to calm the rage building inside of him.

Anyone else mating you has never been an option, because Johnny always knew it had to be him. He always knew that it had to be you.

‘That sweaters a bit tight for you, don’t you think?’ His friend jeered, poking at the faded cotton material stretched over his much larger body.

Johnny ignored him, waving Jaehyun off before heading to the river to wash off, making a stop by the bathrooms nearby first. He’s kept your oversized sweater stuffed at the very bottom of his bag as he marched into the newly presented Alpha sector of your packs lands, heart beating from his chest as he stole one last look back and found your gaze peering over your shoulder practically begging to be saved.

He’d dreamt about it for years, what your scent would smell of, how you’d grow to be the most beautiful Omega, strong and regal by his side. Perfect to lead a pack by him in time.

In time you will see, even if you don’t have much left to spare.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･

Air thick as molasses glides down your tongue, struggling to swallow as you sit up and break out into a fit of coughs. Everything’s too warm, incinerating you from inside out with each breath you take in. Grasping around yourself you find a wall behind you, choking on your next breath right as the Alpha enters and rushes over to you.

“Here, drink this.” He sits down fast, raising a cup of cooled tea to your lips, tipping it for you to drink from. The sensation of calming herbs flows through your chest, filling your senses from nose to taste, opening up your air passages to breath with ease. “Drink all of it.”

“What is that??” You cough, wiping at your lips and pushing the mug away.

“You fainted, healer Ryu said it can happen when Omegas aren’t accustomed to the scent of Alpha..” tilting his head to the side, he taps at a scent blocker stuck to his neck. “This should help, you’re in my cabin thought, my scent is pretty much everywhere..”

“What am I doing here?” You try to say clearly, choking on the spit lining your throat that's thickened up. “W-why did you bring me here?”

Johnny’s gaze darkens, dragging down your even toned neck, the expanse of your smooth delicate shoulders and your bare arms. “Because.” He stiffens, glaring at your throat. “I want you to be awake when I mate you.”

“Mate me?!?” Shooting up straight, you clutch the furs on top of your body tightly, half questioning if he undressed you to get you under here in the first place..

Sitting up, he nods and reaches to move your hair back causing you to flinch as his knuckles drag down your cheek. “Do you not remember me?”

He seems hesitant to ask, lips tugged down at the sides, grazing past your scent gland still masked by blockers.

“Of course I remember you!” Glowering, you grab his wrist and dig your fingernails in. “Now answer me! What am I doing here?!”

The sensation of your stubby nails clawing at his flesh has no effect, shrugging you away as he comes to stand and paces in front of the bed you sit on. “Did you hit your pretty little head falling down from one of those trees while trying to hide?” He asks in a snarky manner, placing hands on his hips to widen his size. “How many times are you expecting me to repeat myself?”

“You know I never fall.”

Johnny rights himself, standing tall above you. “And I know where you’d go to hide from a gang of Alphas seeking their prey.”

“You cheated.”

“I found you fairly, just in time too. Jaehyun was trailing my ass knowing I’d be looking for you. You’re lucky he knows better than to go up against me.”

Jaehyun. The other Alpha that Johnny had scared away.

“It’s not fair.. you left our territory—“

“And you should be grateful that I did.” He lunges toward you, slamming his fists down on the bed. “If anyone else had found you breaking the rules like that I’d never be able to save your ass.”

“I don’t need to be saved, especially not thanks to an Alpha.” You spit, cowering back against a wall.

“Watch your tongue little one. We aren’t pups anymore.”

Hard knocks shake through the cabin, pursuing your lips together to stop an insult from dicing its way through the Alphas flesh. Moving away, he peers back over his shoulder, motioning your way. “Don’t move, Omega.”

He disappears behind the door shutting, springing to your feet to scamper your way over when you hear deep voices murmur through.

“Have you done it?” You can recognize head Alphas domineering tone, judging from the way Johnny replies alone. He sounds immature, young and still innocent but still respectful.

“Not yet father.” He’s quiet, probably keeping his head down, too much shame to look his dad in the eye.

“I never expected this from you son.” Head Alpha sounds disappointed, drawing out a long sigh. “All of this over some Omega.”

“She’s more than that.”

“I do not care.” Shutting down his son quickly, head Alpha takes heavy steps, most likely pushing his chest out to instill intimidation.

“If you do not mate her by the end of today, I have no choice son. I will not allow your obsession with this inadequate Omega to tarnish the reputation I have helped you build. No one wants to follow orders from an Alpha that cannot even control his Omega. You will do what I see fit or I shall summon the council to order a public mating.” Head Alpha spits each word out like shards of glass, gashing through even your flesh from where you listen through the door. The thought of Johnny on the other side trying to keep up a strong facade pings through your chest, willing it away with your arms tightening around yourself.

He must be stoic, emotionless to his father’s rage, because he doesn’t reply, nothing but the sound of footsteps follow for the next few minutes.

Stepping back inside abruptly, he catches you off guard, leaping away from the door and rushing to hide your tear-filled eyes. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t stay in place.”

“You know me.” You mutter sarcastically, lips tugging down at the sides. “Public mating?”

Johnny sighs, starting to pace and run his hands through his long locks. “I assume you heard everything.”

“What was head Alpha talking about? Is he going to have me exiled?”

He scoffs, glaring at you from the corner of his eye. “As if I’d ever allow that.”

“You’d have to, you can’t go against your father.”

“I can’t?” Lifting a defined eyebrow at you, he steps forward to get in your face, neck craning lower. “What do you not understand? You are my mate. I would go against anyone for you, even my own damn blood.”

“I don’t understand, okay?!” You shout, frustrated, taking a step back nervously.

“I’ve always known.” Johnny cuts you off, following you with long strides until your back meets a wall. “You have too.”

“No.. Johnny..”

“Alpha.”

“No!” Lifting your hands, you press flat against his chest to put distance between your bodies. Useless as he doesn’t so much as budge, reaching for your waist as he bends in closer until his lips hover an inch away from yours.

“This stubborn act was endearing when we were kids, you know.” He laments, laughing under his breath. “It was cute and I may do whatever it takes to make you mine, but you will respect me as your mate.”

His tone lowers, near a rumble that has your Omega howling in pain, every signal warning for you to behave. “You’re not my mate.”

He snaps fast, growling deep in his chest, palms slamming down on the wall behind your head. “Do not disobey me.”

The Alphas voice cuts deep, rolling tremors down your limbs until your knees give and buckle, dropping your face between his chest as a pathetic whimper springs from your lips. You crumble at the fury, the Omega inside of you curling up into a ball in shame. How could you anger our mate enough to make him use his Alpha voice? It’s your fault, unleashing an onslaught of pain throughout your body the more you cower against him.

An exhausted sigh blows across the side of your face, standing up straight with arms wrapped around your waist he holds you close, nose dropping to your hair to take in a long inhale. “I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what overcame me just now..”

“I hate you.” You cry between chattering teeth, weakly hitting his chest. “How could you do that to me?”

“No you don’t.” Johnny’s eyes fall shut, dragging his nose against your crown. “I need you to listen to me. I’m sorry. I’m frustrated and stressed over what my father said..”

Sniffling, you ease against him, looping an arm around his waist to regain your balance, and maybe comfort the emotionally wounded Omega whimpering inside of you to fix this. “Public mating?”

“Yes..” he hesitates for a minute, rubbing a soothing large hand up and down your back before pulling away to cup your face.”If the council agrees, I will be summoned to claim you before the pack Alphas..”

“What??”

Pursing his lips, he looks away, forehead wrinkling. “As their next head Alpha, I cannot risk dishonoring tradition..”

“What’s traditional about this?!” You speak up, pushing away again only to be kept in place by strong built arms.

“It’s not up to me anymore.”

“Then let me leave!” Hissing, you strike a balled up fist against his chest, lip trembling to contain your tears. “Johnny, please!”

“I can’t.” He says firmly, taking a hold of your shoulders to keep you still against the wall. “Tomorrow I will mate you, and if you try to run, I will never stop chasing after you.”

Silence falls between the two of you as he keeps you stuck in place with a look full of hunger. Eyes dancing between desire and passion. It’s enough to bite your tongue and hold back the whiplash of words your mind fights against your heart to shout at him.

“There’s no other way?” You ask brokenly, throat exhausted as if your Omega used your vocal chords to scream her murderous tears.

Shaking his head slowly, he leans in and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “There is no other way.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･

There is no other way.

Because this is the only way to prove to the pack that you belong to Johnny. That the Alpha has truly thoroughly fucked and claimed you, that no one will ever question his position to lead this pack.

The council wastes no time on discourse, immediately proclaiming that a mating ritual shall take place today, and that the Omega set to be the next head by pack Alphas side will have a mark on her neck by the end of this day.

“Here I thought the hunt would be the highest honor, you’re lucky the council has been lenient enough to allow this.” Your mother’s fixing up your face once again, unable to remove the giant dumb smile from her face as she moves to brush your hair. “Ah, the moon goddess truly heard my wishes. Head Alphas son of all Alphas! What a blessing.”

Every single member of the pack seemed to question how and why you were chosen. Walking through the village to your parents cabin drew more attention to you than you’d ever experienced. Whispers floated through the air, backing the rumors that you couldn’t even handle the next head Alpha, that you’d passed out before he’d even had the chance to mate you.

‘Doesn’t make any sense why he’d even bother with her after that.’

‘Heard one of the Alphas over breakfast mention that they were close as pups. Head Alphas son probably imprinted on her years ago, none of us ever stood a chance against that type of bond.’

‘Seems unfair if you ask me, she’s not even grateful.’

They spoke so foul of you without knowing anything about you. To even dare question the innocent relationship you once had with Johnny. The friendship that you cherished and would sell your soul to have back. Everything’s different now, he’s different.

“I’m already dreaming of the pups you’ll have.” Your mother sighs happily, fluffing your hair to frame your face. “Johnny’s so handsome and strong, with his genes you will birth only strong pups.”

Pups.

Birth.

With Johnny.

Fear heightens in your stomach similar to a ticking time bomb, sensing your imminent doom as the elders come to escort you to the Alphas sector where the ritual will take place. They wear pleased smiles, cheerful as they drag you along and bring you to what can only come straight out of nightmares.

Alphas stagger around, eyeing you curiously as you’re brought to stand in the middle where a large lifted platform covered with cushions and furs has been set up. It’s worse than the hunt, multiple predatory eyes burn into your skin, gathering closer to get a good look at the flimsy garment doing a poor job of hiding your ample curves. Growls and grunts fly around you, trapping you with nowhere to go as they circle around and barricade you, shortening your breath the more imprisoned you begin to feel.

“J-Johnny?” You ask hesitantly, gaze stuck to your feet, too anxious at the thought of meeting eyes with any of the unknown Alphas around.

“I’m here.” A soft tone ripples up your spine, standing straight and pulling your shoulders back as he takes a hold of your elbow and turns you to face him. “Look at me.”

Slowly lifting your head up you see him, warm eyes and a soft smile intended to comfort you. He stands before you, moving in closer to wrap around your waist. “You’re nervous.”

Sniffling, you nod, embarrassed that every Alpha in the pack you’re meant to lead side by side with the one currently holding you tight will see you defiled for the very first time in mere minutes. “It’s just you and me right now, got that? Don’t even think about anything else. No one else exists, only us.”

As much as you wish to believe that to be true, your ears can’t tune out the whistles and jeers coming from every side, biting on your lip and shaking your head, you reach for the Alphas shoulders to hide your face in his chest. “Can’t.. they’re everywhere.”

“I said look at me Omega.” He speaks more sternly, not moving to force you, but waiting for your head to raise and return to his still lovingly warm gaze. “You will not take your eyes off of me, do you hear me? You’re mine, you are only to look at me.”

Without using his Alpha voice he still manages to make your chest tighten, stomach churning anxiously as you nod slowly and he bends closer until your foreheads are pressed together. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

A part of you wants to scream, consider running only to be tackled down by a militia of powerful Alphas, but the other part of you swoons, reminded of the days you craved nothing more than to be by Johnny’s side and ripped your own heart to pieces once you realized the inevitable fate you’d been dealt.

“…for how long, Alpha?” You ask, barely above a whisper, fluttering his eyes in surprise.

“Forever.” He whispers, nose brushing against yours. “I’d wait an eternity for you.”

“You’ll take care of me Alpha?” You question cautiously, lips barely grazing his plump pout. “Make me yours to protect?”

“Always have.” Johnny states, licking your upper lip with closed eyes. He blinks slowly, reaching to cup your cheeks and dip his mouth to yours. “And I always will.”

It may not be ideal nor how you ever allowed yourself to imagine, but as the Alphas lips meld to yours, the tension weighing on your back dissipates. Easing into his dominant touch, you fall into the kiss easily. Every worry and silent wishful hope lets out a sigh of relief throughout your body, dragging your arms up higher to cling around his neck and deepen the kiss.

This time your lips planted together unlocks what you never knew you needed. The Omega inside of you quells instantaneously, rolling around with what can only he a giant smile now that your Alpha finally seems satisfied. The two of you rejoice, drawing him in deeper to grant your tongue access inside the delicious cavern of his mouth. If only a kiss can ignite this much in you, you can only shake as you imagine what more your conjoined bodies can release.

“I’ve got you baby.” Johnny says softly against your lips, for your ears only. “No one else exists.” He repeats, calming the tremble rolling up and down your spine with tender pets. “Your first time?”

You nod, skin flushed with goosebumps as your nerves skyrocket and missile launch to the sky erupting each and every worry you’ve ever had. The Alphas never had to be concerned with any inexperience. Always taken care of with various concubines in preparation for the day they’d have to race for a mate. Johnny knew exactly what to do with you, how to use your body and pleasure himself, only heightening your anxiety.

“You trust me don’t you?” He continues to whisper, brushing against your now swollen lips. “Trust that your Alpha will make you feel good, you’ll always reach your pleasure first with me.”

“Can I trust you Alpha?” You ask for further affirmation, sliding your hands beneath the leather furs draped over his shoulders.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Without answering, you push the furs off, eyes going wide at the sight of ink carved onto his skin. Immediately you reach to run the tips of your fingers across the raised flesh, poked through with sterilized needles and squid ink, half scarred from the forced injury to create the permanent markings. “Is that?”

“You.”

It’s as if you’ve woken up in Johnny’s cabin once more, short of breath as you trace over the lithe wolf prowling along a tree branch between leaves. Large golden flecks stare back at you, running your touch over the leaves as the Omega tattooed on his skin almost watches your movements. “Me?”

“My Omega.”

Grasping your wrist he drags your hand higher to the path of flowers blooming open on his shoulder. “My Omega made of honeysuckle and snow coated grass. As sweet as Autumn and fierce as Winter.”

“Johnny..”

Nights of clenching your eyes shut, pretending to ignore the Alphas eyes appearing in your dreams, shove aside the warmth you sought out from the memory of his touch. Every night and day kept apart had taken more of a toll on both of you than either could have realized, desperate to be close as you sink into his chest and wrap around him with a tight hug. “Alpha.”

“I know.” The gentle tone he keeps with you could erase any fear, comforted by the scent that had been suffocating you. Taking deep long inhales you finally let him in, head hazy as the Alphas scent combines with yours. “Never take your eyes off of me Omega.”

He means it, tempted to use his Alpha voice to manipulate you to follow his orders. It’s hard enough to tune out the whispers and groans that surround you from the crowd gathered around as he begins to strip your flimsy tunic away and slowly takes in every inch of your exposed skin, quietly cursing under his breath. “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.”

Every touch is soft, voice hushed for only your ears to pick up on, gaze lit up full of love that you can feel each time your eyes meet. Nerves prickle under the drag of his finger, softly gliding down your stomach to the tops of your thighs to part you open, swallowing down a loud deep breath. Embarrassment twitches your knees, wanting to slam them shut as the Alphas lowers to get a close up look and curls his biceps around your thighs. “The most perfect Omega, aren’t you pretty?”

Slick gushes between your folds, shaking from the tips of your fingers to your toes as your peer down between your thighs. Johnny’s eyes shoot up, lowering his thick lips to your center. The invitation of your warm glistening cunt is enough to have him groaning, unintentionally teasing the hood of flesh hiding your clit. Pouty pressed together lips flatten and kiss the bundle of nerves, lighting triggers up your calves and thighs for more slick to drip out onto the Alphas chin grazing across your awaiting entrance.

Given any other circumstance, including the one you could have ended up in, he would have had you present on all fours and fucked you like a proper Omega slut. Alpha urges roar for him to hurry it up, enough to worship your cunt. Ignoring his wolf's demands, he moves lower to kiss at your entrance, slurping up the sweet sticky syrupy slick for the direct source. Burying his nose in to snort your aroused scent this up close. He mouths sloppily at your hole, not even to get you off yet, but to finally have a taste of his dreams. A taste of what he could only imagine for years.

Nothing would ever be able to compare or come close to the heavenly taste of you.

“My Omega, so sweet. Taste so fucking sweet, pretty pretty girl.” His chins doused with your gleaming arousal when he decides to finally come up from air at the sound of your moans turning into impatient whines. Jerking against his mouth desperately, needing something inside. He can feel it, the frustration coming from both of your wolves, attacking you from inside out to mate mate mate.

The Alphas breath fans across your now sweaty neck, body heat rising at accelerated speed the more he teasingly tortured you. Licking up your scent gland, he drags a way to your ear, biting on the lobe softly. “My innocent Omega wants Alphas cock so badly? Rutting against me like some horny pup.”

And it’s true, without thought your thighs wrap around one of his long muscular legs, jamming your bare core up and down the flexed limb. Hair grazes your slick cunt, making a mess of wet down the Alphas thighs as your hips speed up chasing after a relief only he can fulfill.

“Alpha, I need to.. be closer.” Every and each bone in your body rattles, craving and needing to feel him inside of you. Johnny tenses, eyebrows wrinkling together as he grabs onto your hips and forces you to stop.

“You’re gonna give me a hard time with that pretty ass and pussy, aren’t you?” He says through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering shut. “I’ll fuck you, fuck you full of my pups. Keep you satisfied until all you know is how to take your Alphas cock. Is that what you want?”

Thick palms slide beneath your back, gliding lower to cup and squeeze your ass, encouraging your hips to push down on his thigh again and plead for more. Vigorous grinds of your hips force him to lodge his knees down, shifting the furs laid out beneath you. He grunts, rasping out breaths shakily. “Fuck baby, get it nice and wet for me. Keep doing it just like that.”

As if to warn you, he grips your ass roughly, jamming his hardened clothed length against your hip for you to really feel what you’re about to take. A heavy hot thick rod ruts from your lower belly to your hip, a thin garment separating your lower halves, bowing your spine up pathetically. “Alpha—that, please, please, g-give me!”

A round of groans sound around you, quickly reminding you of where you are, but not long enough before Johnny sits up between your thighs, bringing your hands to his hips.

“This what you want?” He asks damn near mockingly. Licking at his lips akin to a thirsty rabid wolf.

“Alpha—want, want it!”

Hisses, growls, harsh ragged breaths turn louder the more you whine, resisting your Omegas curious urge to glance around. Johnny cups your chin to keep you focused, sleek eyes melting your gaze. “What do you want? Say it clear for your Alpha.”

The size of him above you makes you feel so small, curling into yourself as he positions close between your thighs to jam his clothed size against your drenched cunt. Johnny trembles at the contact, having to sneak a look down as you soak through his light fabric cover up and the shape of his cockhead fully pokes through, pressing the tip to your swollen clit. “Want this?” He mutters, curling the fabric around his cock to slap down heavily between your thighs.

Jerking up in response you let out a howling scream, arms shooting out to grab his biceps. “Please please!”

“Say it!” He growls ferociously, slapping the heavy meat down with audible loud wet claps of skin hitting skin. The contact rushes blood down, chubbing your pussy up in preparation to squeeze the life out of your Alphas dick.

“Want your cock Alpha! Wan-want you to breed me, pup me!”

If only you had anything else on your mind other than the Alpha burying inside of you, you’d hear the uproar of feral cries set off around you. Each Alpha willing to sell their soul to be in Johnny’s position right now. They watch on drooling, snarling, rubbing themselves over their garments as your Alpha sits up proudly and strips his lower half free of the fabric. His thick cock bounces up, slapping loudly against the flat planes of his ripped stomach. The visual of Johnny’s chest rising and falling rapidly has slick pouring out of you obscenely, toes curling as you take in the full mass of him. Clenching up as small as you can as you envision what can only be compared to your forearm in size penetrating you.

“Alpha, s’too big..” you say wantonly, still wanting to feel him split you open. Still needy for your Alphas cock to break through your cervix and fatten your belly full of cum.

“I know, baby.” Laying down on you without resting his weight, his cock pressed against your stomach. The tip slotted a few inches above your navel as a preview of how deep he’ll be inside of you soon. Maneuvering his fingers between your thighs, he nips at your jaw, murmuring praises about how wet you are.

“It’s so loud, so warm.” Johnny sighs, sucking on your earlobe. “So slippery between my fingers.”

Tapping at your entrance, he nudges your thighs open further, gliding two fingers in past the ring of muscle that feels as if you’re trying to bite them right off of his hand. Cursing again, he sucks in a ragged breath, licking swirls along your ear. Thumb making way to your clit to loosen up the clamp your cunt has around his fingers. A few meticulous rubs and flicks combined with his hot mouth have you relaxing, shoulders laying flat as he begins to scissors inside of you.

“Feel that Omega? Your pretty tiny fucking pussy.” He grits, fingers beginning to jam in and out of you at heightened speed. “Feel so tight and warm around me, gripping me so good baby.”

Johnny’s nasty words make your mind spin, head thrown back watching the sky above you turn upside down. The sound of your gushing slick louder than anything, muting all but the guttural groans coming from your Alpha. Pleasure scorches throughout your body, reaching for his wrist with a trembling saliva covered bottom lip and watery eyes. “Please, enough. Alpha, I need it, need you.”

He hears you loud and clear, tongue toying with his lip for a moment before drawing free from your cunt. As much as he wants to make this easy for you, there’s no way. Both of you too insatiable and driven by your hunger to be one. To feel conjoined, even if you know it will hurt.

Slowly stroking his cock, he watches your pussy in a trance-like state. Stomach muscle twitching, taking sharp breaths as he rubs a smear of pre-cum around the tip. Dipping his fingers between your sensitive pussy lips again because he can’t help himself, too enthralled by the gush of slick that bubbles out messy and loud. It’s all for him, slowly collecting the wad of slick to coat his cock with like some type of silent apology for what he’s about to do to you.

The twitch your tiny little hole gives in response only makes him groan, setting the head right against your slit to admire the difference in size for a minute.

“Perfect.” Johnny whispers, rubbing his thumb down your clit to the outer rim of your cunt pulsing against his length. He can’t stop his hips from jerking, slowly thrusting to watch your muscle stretch, fighting back the much too large intrusion trying to invade and make a home for himself. The fat tip of his size throbs, pushing it in until he feels your hole snap around him, hissing and biting his lip. “Babies first time, just for me..”

It’s dizzying for him, almost too dizzying to hear your rushed intakes of air, to see your eyes clenched shut, fists balled up on your chest, and your teeth grinding to not scream. Johnny reaches for your forearms, pushing them down for leverage. Slowly he plunges in more, managing to get a few more inches in before pausing to take deep breaths. “You okay baby?”

Nodding furiously, you curse at him to continue. Distracting yourself from the pain by focusing on your breathing. You have to be good, prove yourself worthy, not only for your Alpha, but for the pack of onlookers. Determined to take him, you let out a moan and force your hips up into a swivel, further sliding his length inside.

A slew of curses spring from his lips in shock, reveling in the pressure and tightness enveloping half of his length. “Want it so badly, don’t you.” He says more to himself, moving to grab your hips and hold them down. “But you’ll do as I say.”

He pulls out, a lewd loud pop resounding as Johnny lifts his hips back enough to rub his length up and down. The fat tip of his size purposely nudging and bumping your swollen clit. Each drag against your sensitive pussy further ruining you, sobbing out loud without a care. The hold on your hips keeps you from moving, letting out a desperate shout as Johnny lays his palm flat on your stomach, taking his cock in hand to slap down on against your clit.

“Alpha! N-no!”

“Take it.” He groans, struck by the thick we s of slick that cling to his length with each heavy smack. Emitting pornographic squelching sounds for everyone of the Alphas he will lead someday to hear, to memorize, to know that they will never have a taste of you, let alone ever experience this again.

With a pleased smirk, the engorged tip of his length meets your entrance again. Pussy throbbing like a wounded animal as the Alpha finally presses in again, slowly breaching your hole to make you feel every overwhelming sensation all over again. The pain subsides as pleasure and desperation takes over, incessantly starving to feel him stuff you full. You sob, reaching out for something as he leans in to bracket your head with thick biceps. Finding solace in his shoulders, you claw at his smooth skin, arching up to bite down a scream into his muscle.

It’s heat inducing, arching against the Alpha to get him deeper inside of you. Long thick cock stretching you with each new inch added, too good once fully sheathed inside. You can’t stop whining, licking at Johnny’s smooth pronounced collarbone. Split open by the only one you’ve ever wanted, something about it swells your chest. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders to feel even closer.

“Alpha, please—“ you start to wail, drooling on his neck, planting haphazard messy kisses.

“What are you begging for, huh?” He chokes out, moving to wrap around your shoulders in the same manner, knowing that your Omega needs to be close. That your heart needs to feel his beating against it. “You’re so tight for me baby. Gonna ruin that perfect pussy you have, make it mine.”

“Ugh!” Dropping your neck back, hot tears fill your eyes, raining down your cheeks as he begins to thrust in and out.

“All mine, my pretty gorgeous Omega.” He moans, fully pulling out only to ram back in and sending your back arching up with a shout. Johnny can’t slow down, chasing after your release to get to his. Falling into a rough rhythm, he thrusts hard enough to have you both sliding up with each ramming force of his hips. The clenches you give around his cock accompanied by drool coated moans only encouraging him to push in harder, make you taste his cock in the back of your throat from here.

“Alpha..”

“Yeah, what did I say baby? Keep those pretty eyes on me baby. Keep looking at me.” Clutching your neck, he presses your foreheads together. Cock drilling deep past your tight hole. It’s not completely without pain, snapping around the intrusion of his thick long girth. Johnny works hard to keep his own eyes open, consumed by the way your pouty lips fall apart with a moan, how your eyes roll up and back to him over and over again. “Opening up so so good for Alpha. Feel good baby?”

Gliding a hand between your bodies, he lowers closer to your chest, pushing his arm lower to rest the back of your head along the dip of his elbow. Fingers find their way to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves with another thrust, easing more inches past your convulsing heat.

“Ahh—!” Incoherently you begin to nod, head spinning, thighs aching around his hips. The pinch to your clit shoots up your spine, lifting your butt up only to be slammed back down into place with another powerful thrust. Johnny curses, sucking at spit around his tongue as he lifts enough to watch you take the last inch of his cock again.

“Oh shit baby.” He croons, biting down on his lip at the sight of his cock completely disappearing inside of you like nothing. The way you take it only as an Omega can. It’s indescribable to feel your heat suck around him, the way your walls clamp on his size like wet firm kisses. Pangs of pleasure throb up his length, cockhead pressed to your cervix at this angle. “Can’t believe—“ the Alpha drags his slick coated fingers to your lips, pushing them down on your tongue, teeth gritting. “Can’t believe I’m inside of you.”

That awakens your lost mind, licking between his digits as he circles down into you and lets you truly feel how big he is. Each twist of his hips feels like a delicious new stretch, opening your cunt up to always be ready for your Alpha to fill you up. He sighs, smiling and pressing in to capture your lips. Cock thrumming inside of you letting you get used to the sheer size of him. Distracting you with wet and messy glides of his tongue, he continues to slur between sucks, drawing your tongue out with his suctioning lips.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy baby, best cunt ever.” Johnny sounds lost himself, lapping at the combination of your spit smearing between your chins. “Tight, so tight for your Alpha.”

All you can do is whine and agree between his overpowering kisses, failing to grab his tongue with yours. Johnny controls everything, the way you kiss, the way you fuck, the way your body reacts to him. Infiltrating your brain, lungs, heart, cunt, filling every empty hole inside of you with himself, staking claim to his Omega the way only a real Alpha can.

“Pl-please, Alpha, please,” you start to beg, throwing your limbless arms around his shoulders to weakly throw your hips into a circle. Turning desperate to really feel him, to really get fucked by your Alpha.

He fully lets go, tearing past his own resistance to fuck you full, hard and fast. Wet sounds clap around you, jostled by each punching thrust, swearing you can feel him as deep as your lungs from the way you gag on spit and choke on your breath. Weakly tapping at his shoulders you lose it, clamping on the Alphas size hard enough to make him stop for a moment. Johnny growl’s animalistically, pounding through the splash of slick threatening to push his size out from the force of your powerful orgasm. He keeps fucking you through it, looming large over your body going lifeless beneath him.

“Knot, g-gonna knot baby.” The veins lining his long throat pop out under sweat glistening flesh, dropping his nose to yours as his stomach convulses and he thrusts in all the way deep surely leaving your cervix bruised. “Fucking—-fu—ahh shit!”

It’s the most shattered he’s sounded, raspy and whiny, coming to a stop as the base of his length begins to expand. Swiping his lips against yours between panted breaths.

“S’too.. can’t.” You beg, lightly tapping his chest. It’s useless, both of you too strung out by the peak of your pleasure. The only option left is to wait it out and grit your teeth through the burn stretching against your hole.

Right as you feel every last inch of your body go limp, Johnny securely cups behind your neck, licking across the top row of his teeth practically salivating at the sight of your extended throat arched up so invitingly. The knot thrums against your walls, painful stretch burning as he adjusts to lower his chest to yours and whisper against your lips. “My Omega.”

The bite hurts initially, gnawing deep through the flesh covering your scent gland. Long canines dig through your veins, sucking at the blood that gushes past his bite. Memories of the first time you met the Alpha flash behind your eyes, weakly sinking your nails into his shoulders as tears rush from your eyes and everything he’s ever wanted to say to you flies around your mind. The days you spent together, the times he always let you win just to see you smile, and the frantic need to protect you. Pain washes away along with the tears rolling down your face, whimpering and clutching onto him as hard as you’re able to.

“Johnny..”

The pitiful sounds that come from his throat remind you of a distressed pup, lapping up your bite aggressively as guilt claws at his chest seeing you grow weaker beneath him.

“S’okay Alpha..” you mumble, sliding your hands up his neck to hold his cheeks. The difference in size seems more daunting now, stuck on his knot that hasn’t deflated one bit, the visual of your small hands thumbing his wet cheeks feels right. Feels as if you’ll never have to fend for yourself as each emotion and reassuring sense of devotion fills your head.

Johnny’s your Alpha, destined to lead, destined to be yours.

“Hurt you..” he barely whispers, thumb caressing the mark on your neck solemnly. Fighting between his pride and lust to prioritize what you could be going through. “Sorry..”

“No no,” tucking your chin, you capture his thumb to suckle on, head shaking softly. “Love you.”

The look that illuminates his features can only be described as one of love. Adoration and admiration, relief, lightly tipping the corners of his lips upward and releasing the tension pinching at his ears. “Love you, my mate.” He says proudly, knot gone down enough to fix your positions and lift you onto his lap. “Let's go home.”

Without allowing you time to look around, he holds onto your bottom, keeping you impaled in place with his knot as his thighs burn to stand, free hand petting the back of your head and easing your nose to rest against his scent gland, successfully masking your eyes from the Alphas that stand around drooling, hard cocks pulsing, desperate to have a piece of you for themselves. With a last look of warning at the group, he turns and takes the back trail back to his cabin, shushing your whines.

“Almost there baby.”

“We’re going home?” You ask drowsily, clinging onto his shoulders as if you fear the idea of falling, knowing the Alpha would never allow for such a thing.

“Our home.” He states, rounding a corner to the back entrance of his cabin to avoid allowing anyone else that may be roaming around to see you in this position. “You did such a good job for me back there pretty.”

“I did?” Warmth fills your stomach, brows knitting as your hips roll against him on their own to feel the Alphas half deflated knot push past your aching entrance. He hisses, cupping your ass firmly on the way to the bed you rested in yesterday, already soaked with your scent, weakening his knees as he lays you down and hovers above you, fist planted by your sides.

“So good for me, my perfect Omega.”

Reaching up for his shoulder, you trace the wolf gazing down at you once again, head tilted curiously. “Has it always been me? Really?”

Johnny’s eyebrows gather together furiously, nodding rapidly, clicking his tongue annoyed. “You know that it has.”

“It’s nice to hear.” You smile, biting on your lip.

“Yeah?” Lowering down, he thrusts the rest of his size in to fill you with every inch, knot gone down enough to shove his length in deep once again. “And me? I want to hear you say it.”

Damp strands of hair hang around your face, framing the Alphas sharp cheekbones, long eyes that stare down at you obsessively.

“It’s always been you.” You admit, arching up for a kiss.

Already knowing that is one thing, but hearing you say it strikes a nerve, growling from deep in his chest as he reaches to draw your hands above your head and teases your lips with barely there kisses.

“You’re mine.” Small pecks litter your top and bottom lip, lowering to your chin and jaw, trailing a pathway up to your ear and back as he continues to repeat mineminemine.

“Mine to have.” Another kiss.

“Mine to keep.” Another kiss.

“Mine to save.” Another kiss.

“And mine to ruin.” The last kiss steals your breath, bred full again by the next thrust, only held in place by his solid grip on your forearms.

The Alpha made good on his promise to take care of you, fucked and bred night after night to birth the strongest members of your pack.

Occasionally you’d find your way back to the forest, now with Johnny by your side helping you climb trees that you insisted on being able to do on your own.

“It’s nice up here.” He hums, laying back on the large part of the base with you on his chest, stroking up and down your spine soothingly.

“It’s nicer with you.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrow lifts, tapping your chin to look at him. “No more running away from me then?”

“You’re here with me, aren’t you?” You tease, pretending to bite his finger.

“That’s my girl.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･

#johnny suh smut #johnny smut #johnny nct smut #nct johnny #nct 127 smut #kpop smut #neopuppy fics #nct smut #nct 127 au #nct 127 fanfiction #nct fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios

2K notes · View notes