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retrievablememories · 6 months

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cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh. while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

946 notes · View notes

milaeth · 9 months

Text

୨୧┊ 𝐈𝐈. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒. ( charles leclerc )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part two ∿ part one ∿ part three

✧.* pairings ─ charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader

✧.* genre ─ social media au ⨾ fluff & chaotic

✧.* summary ─ in which your best friend George gets fed up with watching you and Charles secretly yearn for each other while claiming to be just friends. so, when you lose a bet to George, he takes control of your social media accounts for 24 hours, using the opportunity to help you make a move on your crush.

✧.* face claim ─ suki waterhouse

✧.* warnings ─ some suggestive jokes, other than that this is just as chaotic as the first part

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ part three is coming soon! hope you enjoy mwah <3

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ charles <3 . ✧ ˚

y/n: hey charles i really don’t want to be a bother but i quickly wanted to apologize for the insta post that was made about us a few hours ago!

charles <3: Hey, don’t worry, you’re not a bother! :) And I don’t really care about the post.

y/n: wait

y/n: you don’t care?

charles <3: Nope, I thought the whole flirting thing (the comments etc) was just a joke between friends, yk. At first I was a little confused, to be honest, since we don't usually joke like that, but I figured it was just the way you interact with people you feel more comfortable with!

[ seen 1:29pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

y/n: i’m so scared

princess george: WHAT DID HE SAY

y/n: he thinks it was a flirty joke between friends

princess george: HUH? So I did all that painfully obvious flirting for nothing💀

y/n: AHA

y/n: SO YOU DID DO ALL THESE THINGS TO GET ME TO CONFESS TO CHARLES.

princess george: Someone had to do it! I'm sick of watching you guys literally be in love with the other and still claim to be "just friends" 🤓

y/n:🧍‍♀️

y/n: that isn’t the point now

y/n: the point is WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY

princess george: YOU HAVENT REPLY YET??

y/n: NO I LEFT HIM ON READ BC I PANICKED IDK

princess george: i'm going to have to call carmen to give you some girly advice if you don't start getting bold💀

y/n: OKAYOKAY BUT WHAT SHOULD I SAY

y/n: HURRY UP HES BEEN ON SEEN FOR FIVE MINUTES NOW

princess george: IDK ASK GOOGLE

y/n: GEORGE WTF

princess george: DONT ‘GEORGE WTF’ ME! YOU KNOW I DONT WORK WELL UNDER PEER PRESSURE

y/n: you’re a racing driver💀

princess george: your point?

[ seen 1:37pm ]

princess george: hello???

[ seen 1:38pm ]

y/n: I ASKED GOOGLE LIKE YOU TOLD ME TO AND THEY DIDNT DO SHIT

y/n: they had the audacity to correct me too

princess george: 💀💀

[ seen 1:40pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ charles <3 . ✧ ˚

y/n: you think it was a joke?

charles <3: Well yeah

charles <3 I mean

charles <3: It couldn’t have been anything more

y/n: what if it was tho?

y/n: hypothetical ofc!!!!

charles <3: Well I honestly don’t know

charles <3: If we are speaking hypothetically, I think I would be flattered.

y/n: and if we aren’t speaking hypothetically?

charles <3: Then I would probably still feel flattered.

charles <3: Y/n? Hello?

y/n: SORRY MY PHONE FELL DOWN

charles <3: LMAO

charles <3: Does that mean those flirty jokes weren’t just jokes?

y/n: well.. to me, they’re not jokes, but i’m not the one who made them. i wasn’t supposed to tell you yet but i’m getting sick of george so idc

y/n: i lost a bet to him and had to hand over my main social media accounts for 24 hours, meaning all the comments/posts you saw from my main accounts were made by george😭

charles <3: That explains why I saw your private accounts constantly fight with your main accounts in random comment sections💀

y/n: yeah he was really messing with me

y/n: i’ve gotten lots of angry mails from my pr team

charles <3: I can imagine😭 It's only fair that you get back at him.

y/n: oh absolutely.

charles <3: Can I ask a question though?

y/n: sure!

charles <3: Is your newest single actually about me?

y/n: yes it is. i’m sorry you have to find out like this but i really like you, like a lot. i’ve liked you for a while now but i was too scared to talk to you about it because i thought you don’t feel the same.

charles <3: That’s not true

charles <3: I actually do feel the same, and I literally had the same dilemma!

y/n: WHAT

y/n: YOU ALSO LIKE ME??

charles <3: YES!! I really like you :)

y/n: SINCE WHEN

charles <3: Probably since the day I first met you

y/n: no way i thought you hated me back then💀

charles <3: No don’t worry I didn’t😭 My brother Arthur said I always have this certain look to myself when I meet new people. He said I tend to look a little “off” when I’m overwhelmed, so that was probably it lol

y/n: oh yeah, george said the same about you

charles <3: Aha very nice of him💀

charles <3: Btw I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by asking this, but what are we now? I’m just a little confused

y/n: how about we take it slow and start going on little dates? like trying this whole thing out and seeing if we can actually be more than friends.

charles <3: I had the same in mind :)

charles <3: And George still has control over your main accounts?

y/n: yep for the next 2-3 hours :’)

charles <3: alright, ready to get back at him?

y/n: ABSOLUTELY

[ seen 1:59pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

princess george: Y/N DID HE REPLY YET?

[ sent 1:43pm ]

princess george: Y/N?

princess charles: HELLOOOO

[ sent 1:44pm ]

princess george: CMON I CAN SEE YOURE ONLINE

[ sent 1:46pm ]

princess george: DONT BE SO CRUEL

princess george: PLEASEEE

princess george: I WANNA KNOW WHAT HE SAID

[ sent 1:50pm ]

princess george: UGH fine

princess george: Guess my finger slipped again🙄🙄🙄

[ sent 1:55pm ]

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, georgerussell63 and 8,379,158 others

yourusername save a horse, ride a char- COWBOY

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 268,368 comments…

user375 HELP ME WHAT

user121 girl you gotta stop being horny on the internet😭

georgerussell63 Oh. My. God.😲😲 Y/n this isn’t your private account

user54 you’re acting very sus there mate

user488 well someone needs to get laid💀

user224 simp of the day🫵

pierregasly i can’t watch this

yourusername then look away🤷‍♀️😂

user865 you’re so relatable

user308 cowboy charles😍😍

urusername_alt🔒 YOU DID NOT

yourusername I did xx

urusername_alt🔒 DELETE THIS RN

yourusername Nopee

carlos55sainz I’m so confused

charles_leclerc my lap is free🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️

yourusername WHAT

urusername_alt🔒 wait- fr?🤭🤭

landonorris pause. stop right there.

yourusername | 📍 paris, france

liked by senelagomez, carlos55sainz and 21,488,321 others

yourusername feels good to finally have this account back

view all 170,325 comments…

zendaya stunning as always✨

liked by yourusername

user965 mother is mothering🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

user233 does a stronger word than mother exist??

user355 @/charlesleclerc you better wife her up before i do

user212 there’s no way they’re actually together, now that she revealed that george was behind all those comments/posts

user593 i was NOT prepared

charles_leclerc come to monaco, we miss you

landonorris who’s we

yourusername @/landonorris stfu you salty bitch, you’re just jealous i didn’t visit you last year💀

charles_leclerc just added to their story !

∿ taglist ─ @81astri @ch3rryknots @cs55version @fdl305 @remuslupinsbtch @kissesandmartinis @teenagedreams-cl @headinthecloudssblog @mrsmaybank13 @glai1023-blog @luvrrish @hevburn @charlespear @bibissparkles @siovhanroy ( my taglist if you want to get tagged in my works )

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

#·˚ ༘ ☕️ — mily’s writings !#formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #f1 driver imagines #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #formula one x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n

1K notes · View notes

vminizzle · 1 year

Text

Unplanned night

pairing : husband!jungkook x f.reader

genre : angst, smut

warnings : soft dom!jungkook, jealous!reader (not that jealous tho), argument, teasing, pet names, swearing, sexting?, cybersex?, voyeurism, masturbation, marking, manhandling, praising, slight chocking, penetration, unprotected sex, doggy style, missionary, mirror sex, multiple orgasms (3), overstimulation, creampie, cockwarming. ( lot of words had been repeated sorry 💀 that’s actually embarrassing.) HONESTLY I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS THIS FIC SORRY

words count : 3.8k

A/N : hello hello, i hope you all doing fine. I felt like I haven’t posted in awhile even tho I posted there are a few days ago. well, here a little something I just wrote in my car while waiting for my next course in uni, because I’m introverted and I don’t interact with human irl. I rather stay in my car lmao. THIS is ACTUALLY the messiest thing I’ve ever wrote, but I hope you’ll like it tho, decided to change a bit. REMINDER : POOR ENGLISH. Love y’all !! -sunny

Heavily unedited!!

FEEDBACKS ARE WELCOMED 🦋

M RATED

"Oh c’mon don’t act like you’re innocent." you rolled your eyes.

"you’re exaggerating." he shook his head exasperated, throwing the keys on the counter.

Jungkook and you just came back home from a dinner with your friends, the evening was going well until one of your old college classmate joined you. She invited herself at your table without any shame.

Not only she was annoying but she was flirting with your husband.

"you flirted back!" you pointed at him as he followed you to the living room.

"now you’re just saying bullshit!"

"C’mon if I wasn’t there she’d had sit on your lap! I had to put my hand on your thigh to remind her I was here, because she kept on touching you. She’s so fucking touchy and all, it irritated me!"

Jungkook sighed as he watched you stomping back and forth around the glass table.

"Listen, it’s not like that. You know I wouldn’t had let that happen-"

"wow that’s awesome! Should I congratulate you for saying that?" you threw your hands in the air dramatically.

"now, you’re gonna calm the fuck down because you’re getting annoying." he huffed at your behavior.

You stared at him speechless as he let his body drop on the couch.

"so i am annoying now?" you put your hands on your hips looking down at your husband, this one sighing heavily.

"It’s not like th-"

"It’s like what then?"

"You’re overreacting."

"she purposely tripped over you and that disrespectful slut kissed your neck!" you pointed toward his neck.

"that’s the collar of my fucking shirt!" he furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief.

"still! look at it! her ugly lipstick stained it."

"y/n." he started, resting his elbows on his knees, looking up at you.

"we’re not gonna argue because of that, are we?" he lifted an eyebrow up expectantly.

"I wouldn’t be arguing with you right now, if you didn’t opened your mouth to defend her." you crossed your arms over your chest angrily.

"what the fuck are you saying this time?! I didn’t even defend her!" he breathed deeply trying to keep his calm.

"you knew damn well she used to have a crush on you when we were in college but you didn’t put her in her place when she started flirting with you! She’s so shameless that she did it in front of me. Let me remind you that you’re married-"

"oh yea, the fuck I am." he rolled his eyes letting his body fall back on the couch again.

"what do you mean?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"you don’t get it y/n. I didn’t flirt with her."

"it’s the way you talked to her. You still talked like we were in college. And when she touched you? You didn’t even moved! You let her do what she felt like." your grip on your purse tightening at the thought of it.

"I don’t want to argue with you princess, please let’s not. You probably misunderstood the situation. You know I love you and I wouldn’t flirt with anyone else than you, my wife." you gulped, his words making your heart beat slowly as you started feeling guilty.

But what you’ve seen tonight was just annoying. You just wanted to jump on her and choke her to death for touching your husband. You weren’t really the jealous type but there are limits to respect. And this woman crossed the line.

"but Jungkook, she knows damn well we’re married. Why would she acted like that?"

"maybe she was a bit too tipsy-"

"and again! you’re finding fucking excuses to defend her!" you threw your purse on him angrily, this one catching it midway to not get hit.

You started walking away to the stairs making Jungkook groaned throwing the purse aside on the glass table annoyed.

"now where are you going?" he asked.

"bedroom. I don’t want to continue fighting with you tonight." you replied dryly.

"argh fuck it!" Jungkook threw his head back frustrated.

Usually, when you came back from a date or dinner with your friends, you both would come home in a good mood - a very good mood.

Starting with slow little kisses at the front door, clothes on the floor in the living room as you both undress each other impatiently as you made your way upstairs to the bedroom.

But tonight, your plan have been changed.

Earlier, the ride was way too quiet, the atmosphere cold. No holding hands, only your husband stealing glances time to time at your angry figure sat next to him in the car.

Slamming the bedroom’s door and locking it, you made your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

You stared into the void, thinking about your husband being close but not so close of you. He was in the house but it felt like he wasn’t here. It felt like he was far, really far away from you.

You didn’t wanted to be mad at him but his behavior got on your nerves. You weren’t even sure if he did something bad or not?

Did he? You hesitated.

Because letting another woman touch your arm and feeling "how strong you got since college" is not the best thing to let happen, right? On top of that, just next to your wife.

You stared at your phone, the screen showing your wallpaper, the beautiful picture of your wedding decorating it.

Suddenly, an idea popped in your mind. You’ve never done that before, but guess there is a first time to everything.

You decided to get on his nerves too. But in a better way.

Jungkook is the type to get impatient over things he really wants. Things he wants right away if he had the chance to get it.

So teasing him was the best way to drive him mad. And on top of that, you’d get advantage from this little "punishment".

Jungkook grabbed his phone from his back pocket as he heard a notification.

He furrowed his eyebrows confused as he saw your name displayed on the screen.

y/n : [ attachment ]

His eyes widened when he opened the message making him chock on his own saliva. He stopped breathing for a second, gulping as his eyes stayed glued on his screen.

"is she serious right now?" he pursed his lips not knowing how to feel.

He stood up walking upstairs to the bedroom.

"open the door." he knocked on the bedroom’s door firmly.

"no! I’m not gonna open." you replied calmly.

"I’m asking again. Open that fucking door y/n. I’m not playing." he knocked again impatient.

"I said no." you repeated confidently.

y/n : [ attachment ]

"why are you doing that?" he whined, resting his head on the marble separating you from him.

The "naughty" picture of you making him lose his mind.

Your beautiful body clamped in a black lingerie, sat on the carpeted floor on your knees facing the mirror, left hand cupping your bra covered breast, a small smirk decorating your pretty lips.

y/n : [ attachment ]

Jungkook gulped as he opened the new "punishment" you were "imposing" him.

Sat on the floor completely this time, still facing the big mirror, your left hand was now laying between your parted legs, covering the part where you needed him.

< your hand would had been much better but I’ll do with what I have. >

Jungkook bit his bottom lip, the caption making blood rush down there.

"C’mon please. Open the door baby." he asked desperately.

"nope. go away. I won’t open it."

"fuck! you’re really stubborn when you want to."

He groaned going downstairs to the living room disappointed, he sat on the couch thinking about a way to make you open the door before he lose his patience and break it.

Suddenly, his phone rang pushing him out of his thoughts. He immediately grabbed it without any second thought.

[ FaceTime ]

His thumb reacted faster than his brain as he pressed on the green button.

"y/n why-"

Jungkook stopped when he saw you.

He closed his eyes shut tight, feeling his pants getting tighter.

You smirked as you stared at your husband’s reaction.

"why are you doing that?" he muttered literally in pain, lowering his head

"why? hmm.. guess." you pursed your lips.

"I didn’t do anything."

"if you say so." you shrugged.

"C’mon open the door please." he looked at his phone again, his eyes dark, staring at your half naked body.

You thought for a moment before shaking your head with a playful smile.

"gosh what do you want from me? beg? I’ll do anything you want baby." he whined making you smirk.

"aw you’re so cute when you’re needy." you tilted your head to the side feeling satisfied.

You put your laptop away from your lap, pushing it a bit farther on the bed from you. You sat on your knees, facing the device.

Jungkook stared at the screen, throat getting dry.

"do you like it?" you smiled cutely, referring to the lingerie adorning your body, hand sliding from your chest to your lower stomach.

"so much, you can’t even imagine." he whispered, eyes following your hand down resting on top of your thigh.

He gulped as your other hand went up to play with the strap of the bra.

"the straps are so thin, or is it just me?"

"they’re fine." he breathed out making you hummed.

"what about the panties? lacy, do you like it?" you smirked knowing well that’s what he loves.

His weakness.

"fuck honey stop teasing!" he groaned impatiently.

"shh, calm down." you put a finger on your own lips.

Your fingers hooked in the waistband of the lacy material, pulling it slowly aside showing how stretchy the underwear was.

"It seems so fragile." you said with a fake disappointed voice.

You bent down a little to look closer to the screen, showing a bit more of your cleavage on purpose.

Jungkook’s hand travelled down to his pants, resting it on his confined boner as he watched your own hand sliding down between your legs.

"it feels so good." you said as you drew little circles on your lightly covered clit making Jungkook moan lowly, hand pressing on his bulge.

"fuck." he laid himself more comfortably on the couch, eyes not leaving the screen.

You closed your eyes as your hand travelled up to cup your breast firmly, your other hand still teasing you, rubbing slowly on your clit.

"take it off princess." he said making you looked at him.

"please."

You weren’t used to it, doing such thing. You tried your best to stay confident but your body was burning from how shy you felt at the moment.

"do it."

Your hands went behind your back, unhooking the bra throwing it on the carpeted floor.

"fuck yes." he started unbuttoning his shirt, getting rid of it as he felt hot.

Jungkook put his phone on the glass table, quickly unbuckling his belt, pushing his pants and boxer down at once.

Taking his device back, his eyes wandered all over your body.

You looked so beautiful.

Jungkook knew you tried to act nonchalant, sure of what you were doing, so he decided to play along and make you feel more confortable.

"hey look at me.” he said softly.

"touch yourself."

You froze for a few seconds before he talked again.

"C’mon baby touch yourself for me." he said breathlessly as he grabbed his cock pumping it slowly.

"you’re so gorgeous, look how hard I am because of you." he hissed, his thumb teasing himself as he brushed it over the slit.

You opened your mouth, no words coming out when he lowered his phone, showing you what his hand was busy doing.

"take these off too pretty please." he ordered gently, eyes on the black garment covering you from him.

Jungkook always been like that.

Even when you tried to be in control, he always finds a way to take over.

It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy when you tried to be the one in control but you always end up whining for him to continue. And the way you’re so submissive for him always excited him.

You complied, hooking your fingers into the lacy material dragging it down your legs, discarding it away.

Your husband moaned at the view. The dimmed light enough to show your perfect features.

"lay down and open your legs for me." his voice low.

You took a deep breath as you laid back on the pillow, parting your legs timidly.

"now touch yourself. show me how you do it. show me how you pleasure yourself."

"Jungkook." you whimpered as your fingers came in contact with your core.

"yes my love?" his hand still stroking his cock slowly, knowing you were lost already to answer him.

You slid two fingers between your glistening lips, teasing your entrance.

"put a finger in." he said between breaths.

Entering a finger slowly inside you, you grabbed on the sheet.

"put another one baby."

You let a breathy moan escaped from your mouth as you inserted another finger.

"good girl." he said eyes sparking at how submissive you were.

"Imagine it’s my fingers." Jungkook watched with dark eyes as your fingers went in and out of you.

"yours are better." you whined as you went faster.

Jungkook moved his wrist faster too, tightening his fist around him.

"fuck princess you’re so fucking pretty."

You looked toward the laptop, watching as your husband pleasured himself, his eyes closed, mouth ajar, his head leaned back.

You moaned loudly as you rubbed your clit adding stimulation to push you closer to your orgasm.

"keep going baby." Jungkook encouraged you.

You threw your head back into the pillows as you felt it coming.

"Jungkook I’m-"

"Cum for me." he moaned loudly as he came on his hand, some landing on his lower stomach making him swear as he kept on stroking himself.

Your left hand went to play with your hardened nipple, your thumb flicking it.

You started clenching around your fingers as you came, moaning your husband’s name loudly.

"you did well darling." you heard Jungkook praised as you tried to catch your breath.

You stared at the laptop screen, eyes on him, the man staring at you too.

"fuck it." you groaned getting off the bed, grabbing the device and shutting it off.

Jungkook threw his phone away, getting rid of his pants and boxer pooling at his ankles as he rushed to the stairs to go to the bedroom.

You put the laptop on the furniture near the large mirror facing the bed before walking to the door, unlocking it.

Jungkook was about to knock on it when you opened it.

You looked into each other’s eyes, lust fogging each other’s mind.

You suddenly grabbed him by the back of his neck surprising him as you pulled him down on you, enveloping his lips in an eager kiss.

"god I fucking need you." Jungkook parted away pulling you on him, your chest pressed against his muscular one.

He bent down to kiss on your neck softly, sucking on the skin, your hands flat on his chest.

"Jungkook." you breathed hastily making him hummed.

"I want you."

"I knew you couldn’t resist me." he smirked making you look away embarrassed.

"and I can’t resist you either." he grinned lifting your face to look at your flustered face.

"you know I was about to break that fucking door to come make love to you when you sent me those pretty pictures." he grabbed you by your hips, your heart picking up the pace as he backed you to the bed.

"now that I’m here, I’ll take you as much as you can handle." he warned, his gaze a bit too serious.

He pushed you gently on the mattress, hovering over your bare body.

He attached his lips with yours, sucking on your tongue. You kissed him lovingly as your fingers made their to his hair.

His teeth pulled on your bottom lip as he detached from the heated kiss.

You felt his hard on pressing against the inside of your thigh making you feel aroused again.

Jungkook stood up, making you support yourself on your elbows, looking at him confused.

"on all fours. right now." he ordered with a too gentle voice for the current situation.

"what!?" you furrowed your eyebrows sitting up.

"I said, on all fours." he repeated approaching your frozen body.

He lifted you up effortlessly, making you on your knees, hands in front of you as he positioned himself behind you.

"do you need prep or your little cam girl session earlier was enough?" he teased.

"fuck you." you muttered making him laugh.

Jungkook held your hip as he took his cock in his hand, aligning himself at your entrance.

He rubbed the head of it on your glistening lips making you whimpered.

"stop teasing."

"oh darling, you’re started it." he reminded.

"but since I’m way too impatient right now I won’t tease you." he sighed playfully as he moved forward.

"tell me to stop at any moment if it hurts or anything yea?"

"please do something." you pushed your bottom back on him, his hands stilling your hips.

Jungkook penetrated you painfully slow, making you feel every inches of his cock, the little vein on the side stroking against your velvety wall made you feel dizzy already.

You gasped as he started moving, his hands holding firmly on your sides.

"you feel so good around me." he threw his head back, his fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips.

He looked in front of him, his cock twitching inside you at the view, making you clench around him at the sudden feeling.

"fuck!"

Jungkook hand travelled all along your spine to your hair, pulling you up to him, your back flat against his hard chest.

He grabbed on your chin, making you looked in front of you.

You moaned as Jungkook hand went to grab your breast, massaging it gently, his finger teasing the erected bud, flicking it over and over, making you lose your mind.

"look at you." he pointed to the infamous mirror facing the bed.

"taking me so well."

His fingertips dancing on the smooth skin of your stomach.

You knitted your eyebrows, mouth ajar as you felt this familiar knot in the pit of your stomach.

"babe I’m close." you whimpered, your hand clasped on his forearm as you started clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Look in the mirror. Look at me when I’m making you feel good darling." he ordered.

His hand travelling up to your neck, fingers around your throat. He applied a light pressure enough to make you overwhelmed.

You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes as you felt his fingers rubbing on your clit.

"open your eyes pretty." he bit on your earlobe softly, his breath fanning over your neck.

You opened your eyes meeting his lustful ones.

You wanted to look away, his stare making you feel small but he was just so attractive, you couldn’t take your eyes off his face.

Some stands of his long black hair sticked on his sweaty forehead, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, droplets of sweat running down his neck, eyebrows knitted as he concentrated on hitting the spot that could make you see stars.

His beautiful veiny tattooed hand still resting around your neck.

You cried out as you came around him.

Jungkook held your weak body as he felt your thighs trembled from your orgasm, the pleasure too much for you to handle as he kept on snapping his hips into yours.

He suddenly switched position as he laid you on your back.

"fuck! you feel so fucking good! so warm and tight!" your husband moaned as he went faster, his hand grabbing your thigh angling it higher resting it on his waist.

You sobbed as he started sucking softly on your nipple, his wet muscle caressing the hard bud as he licked it, looking up at your face.

"I- i cant-" you chocked a moan when he bent down to bite on the abused skin of your neck.

"I’m so close." he moaned lowly in your ear.

You let a tear roll down your cheek as the overstimulation was getting unbearable.

"too much." you sobbed, head spinning at the pleasure hitting you again.

Your nails buried deep into the flesh of his back, scratching the soft skin as your legs started trembling again.

He groaned as he picked up the pace making the headboard hit the wall.

He put your leg back down as he felt his own orgasm coming.

Jungkook held your hands at each sides of your head before intertwining your fingers together.

"Jungkook!" you tightened your hands around his, squeezing your eyes shut as you let your orgasm washed over you.

Jungkook came inside you after a few strong thrusts, filling you up to the brim, a loud moan of your name passing by his lips.

His body collapsed on top of yours as he stayed inside you.

You breathed heavily, hand going up to caress his back, the other hand going on the back of his head caressing his messy hair.

He left lazy wet kisses on your neck after a few minutes.

"I love you." he whispered, face resting on your chest.

"I love you." you pecked the top of his head softly.

"did I go too hard?" he asked hoping he didn’t do too much, if he didn’t hurt you or push you over your limits.

"no, don’t worry." you reassured him still stroking his scratched back.

He hummed feeling your soft touches caressing over the burning skin, enjoying the warmth of your body under him.

"y/n?" he called quietly making you hum.

"I’m sorry." he lifted his head up to look at you.

"Koo it’s o-"

"no no listen please. I don’t know why you thought all these things. But forget them. You definitely misunderstood. I’ll never do whatever you said earlier. I love you and you only. I’d never flirt with anyone else than you. I’ll never disrespect you in any way. You mean so much for me. I respect you a lot. You’re my wife. The person I love the most. I don’t care about her and I didn’t find excuses to defend her." he explained making you feel guilty again.

"I want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was so mad and I wasn’t think right I guess. She got on my nerves and I maybe, accused you for doing what you probably didn’t do. I’m sorry." you sighed making you husband shook his head.

"don’t apologize my love." he caressed your cheek before pecking your lips.

"I love you so much Jungkook. You mean so much for me too."

He rolled the both you over, so you're laying on top.

"I love you more, my favorite cam girl." he grinned making you slapped his chest.

"gosh you’re so annoying."

Jungkook laughed, hugging you tightly.

—

a/n : probably a weird way to finish this fic sorry 🥸. Well, I hope it wasn’t that bad. Thank you for reading! I love y’all.

3K notes · View notes

fanficriter · 8 months

Text

Dating the BNHA Boys!

Warnings - None

Characters - Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Tamaki Amajiki

Notes - Isn’t my best work but oh well :3

Gender Neutral Reader

——————————————————————————

Izuku Midoriya

- Silly lil guy

- Took him a LOT of courage to confess to you

- Just kinda stood there dumbfounded when you reciprocated his feelings

- Poor boy is lowkey insecure

- He’s silently insecure about his scars :(

- If you kissed his scars i think he’d go insane

- Will probably cry

- He has little notes about how pretty you are in his quirk journal thingy

- Will go in rants about how amazing you are to his friends

- “Y/N is just so perfect and i love them and i don’t know what id do with out them they’re always there for me and-“

- If you have long hair, he always keeps a pack of hair ties incase you need them 😭

- When you tell him about something you like, he will write it down so he remembers

- Was soooo nervous when he first held your hand

- He was SWEATING

- Always blushes without fail

- His hand are rough, but also rlly soft? (i need to make hand hcs holy shit)

- Doesn’t really like sparring with you bc he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he will if you rlly want to

- He will train together tho!

- He loves giving you tips, and watching you use your quirk

- Likes setting up little picnics with you bc he’s quite literally the perfect man ever

- He is a CUDDLIER

- Absolutely loves cuddling with you

- Loves it when you face him and dig your face into his neck

- Definitely talks in his sleep

- He loves taking you on dates to a bunch of different restaurants and such

- Gets so nervous when kissing you

- He loves it but he gets flustered way to easy

Katsuki Bakugou

- Malewife fr

- Will cook for you, though he acts like it’s a chore, he loves your reaction to all his different meals

- Deaf bakugou hc is my favourite thing ever i’m sorry

- He can still hear, (kind of) but he needs to wear a hearing aid

- He knows sign language, but really only uses it around his mom bc he’s embarrassed😭

- If you know sign language, you’ll win his heart IMMEDIATELY

- You were definitely the one to confess first

- Actually rejected you at first (he still liked you at the time)

- But after a few weeks, he confessed to you

- “I actually feel the same way or whatever… just didn’t wanna feed your ego to much…”

- Knows how to style hair weirdly well

- Will always make excuses to do your hair

- “Oi, c’mere, your hair looks like shit.”

- He’ll never admit it, but he LOVES head scratches

- Will lay on your thighs without warning, expecting you to scratch his scalp

- Sparring together is a MUST

- Don’t expect him to go easy on you

- Isn’t to big on PDA, but he’ll kiss you in private all you want

- The first few times you guys held hands, he was kinda scared that he would accidentally explode you 💀

- Doesn’t really take you out for dates a lot, it’s usually just movies and popcorn in bed

- But on the rare occasion when he DOES take you on a date, it is at the fanciest restaurants known to mankind

- Or hiking, he likes hiking

- It took a while for him to be comfortable with cuddling, but he loves spooning you, or holding you as you bury your face into his chest

Shoto Todoroki

- Confessed to you pretty soon after he realised his feelings

- Straight to the point

- “I’ve recently developed feelings for you.”

- Has a small smile when you said you liked him back

- He stares at you a lot

- Loves admiring you

- Also gives the weirdest compliments?

- “You have a nice facial structure, it suits you”

- “Thank you??”

- Will pick flowers occasionally and give them to you

- Literally buys you everything

- With his Dads credit card (You have no idea)

- You see a pair of shoes you like? BOOM. They are yours in 0.5 seconds

- He just buys everything bro CALM DOWN

- Loves taking you on fancy dinner dates

- You have to meet his siblings btw

- Mainly bc his sister WOULD NOT SHUT UP AB MEETING YOU

- She loves you

- So much

- It’s actually a bit concerning

- Doesn’t necessarily not like PDA, he just doesn’t feel the need to initiate it

- He can be a bit oblivious, so if you want PDA, just tell him!

- He has no problem with it

- Not really a cuddly person, but he will cuddle you if you want!

- Your relationship is definitely based on a lot of communication 😭

- As time passes, he will start to do those things without you having to ask, he just needed to get used to it

Tamaki Amajiki

- oh my god okay

- He confessed first but it took him SOOOO long

- Needed so much encouragement from his friends

- Then he just blurted it out while he was at your house one time

- “I- I love you!!”

- Almost died when you said it back

- Actually saw god when you tried holding his hand the first time

- CANNOT do PDA i think he would die

- Definitely an act of service man, he is too shy to do anything else

- Can’t reach somthing ? he’s on it. Your bathroom need cleaning? Consider it done!

- Also likes making you random little gifts

- Kiss him on the cheek i dare you

- He will EXPLODE

- Your always helping him calm down in public

- “Y/N i wanna go home”

- Further into the relationship he will slowly get used to physical affection

- I don’t think he will ever not get flustered tho

- He loves taking you out too eat

- Really likes picnic dates

- I feel like he meditates often to try and clear his head (there is a lot going on in there 😭)

- Will always invite you to meditate with him

- He actually really likes cuddling with you

- He almost dies every time but

- Loves when you spoon him

- Also loves laying on your chest (or the other way around)

- Absolute chef in the kitchen

- Always cooking u meals

——————————————————————————

This took my life 3 weeks to write i kept putting it off so it’s not as detailed as i’d like it to be but oh well

641 notes · View notes

csainz5 · 11 months

Note

hello! i saw your requests were open and wanted to pop in! i have a bit of a weird? idk request, where it’s like max verstappen x reader first where it ends with angst, and then she ends w carlos endgame?? maybe a whole lotta lover boy feels from carlos and ‘oh i fucked up something great’ feels from max, like essentially carlos that has been silently lining throughout readers relationship w max too?? i’m so sorry if this confused you! i loved ur previous carlos sainz fic!! 🤍🤍

BLOOD FLOWS RED

genre: fluff; light smut

pairing: bestfriend!max x reader; carlos x reader

summary: max constantly fucking up comes in no better time for carlos.

word count: 3.7k (my longest fic so far 💀)

warnings: angst, slight loverboy feels from max if you squint. voyeur max? not really but kinda ig and no beta we die like the ferrari fans we are 🫡 google translate ass spanish, forgive me 😞🫶

author notes: OMG ANON YOU ARE A GENIUS!!! I LOVED THIS REQUEST AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT. but small change tho, max x reader isn’t rlly like a proper relationship. anyways, hope u guys enjoy 😘😘😘

you were both 10 when you first met. your parents had been friends for a while by then, and they decided that they would place you and max in the same school. the two of you instantly kicked it off. it was like you guys were meant to be friends. you always shared the same opinions, the same preferences and all.

school with max was fun. the best, infact. the both of you hit it off well since the first time you met and had been inseperable (and insufferable) since. it was practically known to everyone that if max were to take a seat, the one beside it instantly belonged to you. you two had different friend circles, yes. But you were definitely each others best friend regardless.

highschool. highschool was a turning point in your friendship. although it was still as magical as it was, max’s attention at that time drifted between girls and racing. the former, burnt your heart with jealousy. everytime he ditched plans with you for his new girlfriend, you secretly prayed to god they would break up so you could have him all to yourself. The latter however, you didnt mind so much. you were always a fan of racing, and it only bought you two closer. you still remember go karting with max like it was yesterday. even if he was always the one to win, you weren’t too far behind, always coming it right after him. your deepest secrets, your highs and lows, your intrests, and everything about you was known to max, and max only. everyone would see you with him all the time, so no guys would ever approach you in school. Its not like you really minded it though, because max’s girlfriends only ever lasted two weeks at the most, and you guys would find your way back to each other.

You found solace in the unwavering friendship you shared with Max . Growing up together, navigating the twists and turns of life side by side, your bond evolved into something deeper over the years. You were always hopelessly in love with Max, but you concealed your feelings, afraid of risking the precious friendship you had cherished oh so much. Everyone but max could see it. I mean how couldnt they? you were always like a lost puppy around the paddock, finding your way to max. Much like your races, you would always find your way right behind him. it was clear in the way you looked at him, with stars in your eyes. How your voice went slightly higher when you were around him. How you relax when you’re with him. How you’re the loudest person during a race, always screaming his name as he raced by. Everyone felt sorry for you, really. Because in return to all of your affections was nothing but a cold and stoic response. Don’t get me wrong, Max definitely loved spending time with you, probably moreso than anyone else, but it was nothing in comparison to your admiration for him.

Afterall, in the world of Formula 1, where speed and competition reigned supreme, there was so space for screw ups. you needed to work hard for what you want and you needed to be cunning. and for max, nothing was as important as winning this year’s championship and more to come, so you’ve become used to his behaviour. he was quick, ruthless and on the top, and he wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of his success. so even though it stung when you could see how little you mattered to him over the sport, you convinced yourself it was okay. Because this was max’s dream since he was little, and whats a wish to date a boy over a pursuit for the championship but a speck of dust.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you watched Max prepare for yet another exhilarating race. Your heart raced in sync with the roaring engines, anticipation filling the air. Deep down, you yearned for Max to realize the depths of your affection, but maybe it was too much to ask for, you think. He was always too caught up in his relentless pursuit of victory. Everyone saw it, even the rugged and striking driver of ferrari, with the number 55 adorned on his red suit.

Max insisted you leave him alone for a moment, so he could gather his thoughts before the race. “Are you sure, max?” “please, just go” reluctantly, you agreed and went into the paddock club. you settle into the couch and wallow to yourself. you just wanted to be there with him so you could calm his nerves, why was he acting unlike himself? you gather that recently this is all thats been happening. you always go behind him, wanting to be with him at all times, hoping to be the centre of his attention, but he stands like a stonewall. you’ve grown tired of it really. But come on, you knew you would find your way back to him again. You were infact in love with him since you knew what love was, weren’t you?

You get startled when a hand waves in front of your face “helloo?” “oh my god im so sorry” “no worries” he shoots you a cheeky smile. “did you need anything carlos?” “nothing, i just wanted to ask if i could sit by you” “yeah ofcourse, you didnt need to ask” honestly, this was the most you’ve ever spoken with carlos, so you were confused by his sudden intrest in you. but really, it wasn’t sudden at all. too absorbed into the grumpy redbull driver, you never noticed a tall figure clad in red lurk behind you two. He had seen it all. His eyes burned with rage everytime he saw you with max. What did he ever do to deserve you?

“Carlos? mate where the hell were you? you need to come to the garage, hurry up” charles says, appearing out of thin air “i’ll see you later, okay?” “Bye sainz” Looking back at you, carlos runs away behind the monagasque. you smile to yourself at the sudden attention from carlos. Atleast he distracted you, right?

yeah right. your nerves were all over the place the second the red lights blinked, and the race began. max was so off his game today, whats wrong with him? he was so far behind this race that even the alfa romeo cars had been ahead of him. it was his first race lately where he was behind a ferrari for once. you felt your heart thump as you wince, you know how much shit redbull & max’s father give him on the offchance that he isnt the best in the game. he didn’t deserve it, you think. he doesn’t deserve the shit they put him through. since this was the start of the season, everyone was very anticipated to see the result, to see who is going to be this years leading drivers.

you catch your eyes drifting towards one specific car though, and its not the redbull one you’ve always got your eyes on. the person leading the first race of the season happens to be the man that youve last talked to. carlos. you hold your breath, and blink for just a moment and there you see it, carlos gets the pole position. you dont know whether to be happy or not, a feeling you’re unfamiliar with makes your gut twinge. were you happy with the results? as much as you’d like to convince yourself otherwise, it was true. for some reason carlos winning made you feel proud, but in a split second you turn your eyes back to the circuit. max had gotten p7.

it was the night of that day that max had seen you under a different light. your look for the party had caught the eyes of everyone there, and unfortunately for max, even the eyes of a certain latino were set on you. Carlos was the first person you noticed the moment you stepped into the club. the ferrari pair had rented out the entire club for that night, celebrating their p1 & p2 standings. you instinctively go towards Carlos, talking him up about his big win. “Sainz, that overtake on lap 35? Blew my mind.” “you must’ve been attentive on me to catch that” he jokes, his chest rumbling with laughter. “oh come on everyone’s talking about it” “maybe. but so are you, and thats not very common” “I give credit where credit is due, what can i say?” you giggle, taking a flute of champagne. “hey, how come you aren’t with max? i ask only because this is the first time you’ve come outside that circle” he asks, slightly avoiding eye contact with you. “well, i guess you could say i just found someone more worthy of my time” “Oh..?” clearly amused with your answer, carlos decided that he’s not going to let you leave his side. He had a taste of it, and he knew he couldn’t let go just yet.

2 drinks become 4, and 4 drinks become 8 when you decide that you are done being the quiet girl behind max. you think that it’s time that you let go, live the moment for yourself, and yourself only. okay, and maybe Carlos too. conversations with him were just so light and breezy, you didnt have to hold yourself back hoping you’d be molded into the kind of girl he wants. it was obvious that he was interested in you as is. “Carlos” “yes, cariño?” “How come ive never spoken to you before?” “You know, actually you have” he wasn’t wrong, but that was just small talk at events. This? This was different. you knew it. He knew it. “No, no i mean like.. this” you say, speech slurred, hand reaching to brush his hair. “You’re driving me crazy, mi vida” he chokes out, eyes closed and a sigh escaping his lips. “Carlos..” you feel like you cant breath as you say, “Help me forget him” by this point of your conversation you had realised that he did, infact notice things about you. Maybe even in a way no one else did. you raise your eyes to meet his and you lose yourself in their charm. his brown eyes with specks of gold drew you in more than you’d like to admit. “Hermosa, when you have me,” he raises your chin up “You will be sober when you have me, and you wont be forgetting it any time soon”wind gets caught up in your throat at his bold statement.

“Come on, let loose carlos join me!!” by this point it was the alcohol talking, not you. “okay okay how about we get you home now?” “oh shut up im just getting started” “no you’re not, come with me” carlos says as he throws your arm around his shoulder to support you. “fuck, is she okay man? i can take her to her house just leave her with me” max say’s, finally emerging after eyeing you both all night. “don’t hold your breath mate, she’s going home with me”

you wake up the next morning with the worst headache, which only gets worse when you realise you can’t recognise the room you’re in and the clothes you’re wearing aren’t yours. you shoot your head up as you hear the door open. Carlos? wait a second. did you and he..? “Carlos, did we—“ “Did you want us to?” “Oh my god. OH MY GOD??” “Calm down im just messing with you, no we didn’t do anything. i just had to change your clothes because you puked all over them” this was so embarrassing you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“im so sorry, i really am. i didnt think i would let go that much yesterday.” “Don’t worry, i had fun. plus its nice seeing you not be so timid” your cheeks flush at his compliment. Fuck. i abandoned max yesterday, you thought, booking a cab to his house as you pack your stuff. “Youre not seriously booking a cab right now, are you?” “Not all of us come from Generational wealth, Carlos” you say, hoping you get connected to a driver as soon as possible. “No, no. you’re coming with me.” he says, taking his car keys and showing you the way to the garage. The moment you arrive at max’s house, you see an unfamiliar pair of heels by his shoes.

you knock on the door “Max?” No answer.“Max??” no answer yet again. you use your keys to open the door. “I didn’t expect you to come at this time” he says, his hand over a girl who you barely recognise’s shoulder. “Who’s this, max?” “It doesn’t matter, she was just about to leave” the woman looks confused but exits, mumbling something to max as she leaves. “Whos that, your conquest of the week?” you ask the second you hear the door click. “Why do you care? you must’ve had fun whoring out with the ferrari boys yesterday anyways.” He didnt mean for it to sound as harsh as it did, but what was done was done. Seriously? “Fuck you max. i’ve always been with you every second of every day and you don’t appreciate me for a moment. you constantly ditch me for these random fucking girls who you know are just with you because you’re in redbull. And i let myself go for one night. One fucking night and you’re on my back calling me a whore? you know what? i am tired. i am done with your bullshit. Maybe ferrari is better after all, huh?”

“You don’t understand my point” “what point max? what fucking point? Are you blind or do you just convince yourself to ignore the fact that ive been in love with you since we started talking? Do you know how much it hurt me to walk in your shadow all these years hoping you would notice that i was there for you? to notice that i was the one for you?” “You love me?” he sounds heartbroken saying it, but you’re on an adrenaline rush and don’t take note of it. you could feel your feelings for him fading more and more as you spoke your feelings out to max. “No. not anymore.” “Fuck. i never- i never thought, fuck.” “guess you just realised it too late mate” a voice speaks up behind you. “Lets go back, i cant stand to see his face.” you spit, with venom lacing your words as they sunk into max’s heart like a dagger.

After the incident with max, You realised that the night with the ferrari driver would be the start of something much, much bigger than you had expected. somewhere in between the races the 33 on your shirts slowly turned into 55. You didnt have to tell max you’ve moved on, it was clear as day. Carlos had gifted you a bracelet, a custom cartier one with the initials c.s adorned by a small pendant of a chili. everyone on the paddock could see that max was history to you. By this point it was also famously known that you had become Carlos’s girl. you didn’t mind the chatter though, you were so happy with carlos, he made you feel things that no one had been able to make you feel. he was gentle, and understanding. But at the same time, he knew exactly how to treat you, and the fact that you liked to be treated a little rough, once in a while, and he played it like a charm.

Your situationship with him was quick to blossom into a relationship, the best one you’ve ever been in. Days with Carlos were magical. he was crazy for you, as were you for him. you were so used to people stepping all over you that carlos treating you the way you deserved to be treated caught you off gaurd at times, but you grew attached to that quality of him. he made sure that he was the best man for you, and that you were treated exactly how you deserved to be. you noticed that you didnt even ask him for anything, he miraculously knew exactly what you wanted, and he delivered seamlessly. You had drifted significantly from max, but you didn’t mind anymore. Carlos was the only one for you and there were no doubts about it.

This particular morning was that of the emilia- romagnia grand prix, with you by the ferrari garage with carlos. everyone there had become used to you at this point, charles and some of the engineers becoming some of your best mates. Right now you were in carlos’s room, sitting on the bed as you watched him get ready. it was a home race for the ferrari boys. “What?” carlos talks over the phone, clearly upset with whatever he’s heard. you sit up straighter at his sudden change in demeanour. “Fuck. guess there’s nothing we can do huh?” he says, moments before he hangs up. “It’s canceled. the race is canceled because of a flood.” “What? Im so sorry to hear that Carlos, i know how much this race means to you.” you say, walking up to him and fixing up his shirt.

“Is there anything i can do to make you feel better?” memories of that night rush back into your head. you take in a sharp breath remember what carlos told you that day. “I’m sober now” “You remember that?” he looks into your eyes, his own shifting into a darker look. “I couldn’t for a moment forget it” you pull his collar in towards yourself “you little minx, me estás matando” “Lets see if you’re a man of your word, sainz” you dare to say. “you’re gonna wish you never challenged me, hermosa.”

His lips crash against yours as he pulls you up to jump onto him, legs wrapped around him as you take him in, in all his glory. your brain becomes foggy, and a thousand diffrent scenarios run around your head and at once, the all stop, Leaving your head a blank space. you run your hands through his hair, breathless. he walks you both over to the bed, his lips never leaving yours as unsaid words get conveyed to you. i want you. he gently places you on the bed, getting onto his knees.

You pull away from him for a moment, just a moment. you needed to get comfortable into the bed, and even the split second away from him makes you grow impatient. you look down to see him frantically trying to pull your shorts off you. Frustrated, you pull him by his neck back to you, kissing him with a rush you’ve never experienced before. you close your eyes, his wandering hands feeling making you feel sensitive all over. even a harmless rub against your thigh ticks you off. the whimper youve been suppressing comes out into the kiss, making Carlos feel as though he was losing his mind. he couldn’t take it anymore. he wanted you, he wanted you so badly he felt like a teenager about to cum in his pants.

All you wanted was to scream his name, loud enough for the entire hotel to hear, and he, wanted to listen to them on repeat like they were the best musical piece ever created. he was drunk on lust. “Can i?” you nod with all your might, you couldn’t handle it anymore. “Use your words, mi amor” “Yes, yes. please i want it so bad carlos, please.” “God, you sound so angelic begging for me right now.” Just as he was about to take off his top, the two of you hear a series of knocks on your door.

“Are you in here? its max” “Why is he here?” just as you were about to cuss him out, carlos signals you that hes got it covered. He picks you up, making you put your legs over his torso again. “Carlos? what are you-“ he shushes you, a finger falling over your swollen lips. just as you reach the room door, he clashes his lip’s against yours again. he slowly takes off the lock on the door, leaving max to think he can come in.

max is greeted by the two of you feverishly making out as he opens the door. you and carlos pay him no mind though, as if you couldn’t even see him. “Fuck you guys” He shouts as he bangs the door on his way out.

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angelicdanvers · 4 months

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BREATHE DEEPER | four.

a charlie bushnell x fem!reader social media fic.

y/n

liked by iamcharliebushnell, levizmiller, dior.n.goodjohn, and others

y/n — australia’s my new fav country

tagged | levizmiller

levizmiller i’m challenging you to another round of pool tonight ↳ y/n bet

iamcharliebushnell when’d you go to australia? 😭 ↳ y/n when u didn’t show up for acai bowls >:( ↳ iamcharliebushnell im sowwy ↳ y/n DONT YOU DARE ↳ iamcharliebushnell okok sorry but thought you'd be in london ↳ y/n soon, yeah :')

levizmiller y/n im gonna poke you ↳ y/n okayy hi ↳ levizmiller let’s get boba ↳ y/n YES

dior.n.goodjohn I MISS U COME BACK TO ME ↳ y/n once my australian chronicles are over i promise i will <3 ↳ dior.n.goodjohn WOOOO

walker.scobell youre pretty! ↳ y/n thanks lil dude!

i.am.andrewalvarez AUSSIEEE ↳ y/n THE SWEET ESCAPE FR

aryansimhadri DID YOU SEE KANGAROOS ↳ y/n NO NOT YET THOUGH I HOPE I DO

dailymail Y/n and Levi? ;)

user omg bf reveal happening??

user2 ive never held my breath this much

“GALILEO’S GALS” — 5 notifications!

chanel’s enemy Y/N

lee lee Y/N

dr dre why am i in this gc

chanel’s enemy because u are

lee lee we’re getting off topic Y/NNN CMERE

↳ hiiiii?

chanel’s enemy HIIII HRU ILY

↳ ILY TOO BAE IM GOOD WBU

chanel’s enemy WE GOOD WE HAVE SOME ?’s THO

↳ oh?

lee lee ARE YOU AND LEVI DATING

dr dre OHH THIS MAKES SENSE YEAH ARE YOU??

↳ nooooo

chanel’s enemy that’s a very interesting no

↳ we’re not but idk

chanel’s enemy what

lee lee girl wdym

↳ we’re not dating but i think he likes me? idk

dr dre do you like him back though???

↳ eh he’s very sweet but i’ve always seen him as a best friend, i don’t think we could be more

lee lee do you want to be more??

↳ i mean, i’d give him a chance if he asked? but it’s not anything i’m particularly into or wanting

chanel’s enemy okay that helps

↳ uhhh why

dr dre well if my sleepy ass remembers correctly, everyone and their mother are wondering if you’re dating

↳ nah that aint possible

lee lee it is, stupid dailymail picked up on it first 💀

↳ my manager’s asleep, no wonder she hasn’t updated me lol oh well idgaf they can think what they want

chanel’s enemy but even walker and charlie are 😭

↳ they’re gonna forget it in t-minus four secs it’s fine

dr dre whatever you say, ma’am but are you sure that ‘cryptic’ caption won’t cause any issues??

↳ uhh andrew you’re scaring me

dr dre what if someone likes you? like like-likes you and knows you and gets hella jealous or doubtful? and not saying charlie does but he was raving about how he might finally get to hang out with you, ONE ON ONE. what if he thinks he can't because he thinks you two are dating?

↳ bro first off ik you don’t like me, neither does aryan and i know its DEFINITELY not walker

lee lee girl he had a celeb crush on you a few years ago dont tell him i told u that

chanel’s enemy LMFAOOOO but no andrew has a point how come you didn’t mention charlie? 🤨

dr dre yeah i was just aboutta say 🤨 especially after my little analysis?

↳ SECONDLY, guys, charlie doesn’t. not one bit and that’s obvious, like he isn’t even in considerations. i understand what he may feel but he has nothing to worry about. he knows i won't ditch him or anything lol (right?) but if anything the only person that’d be a little confused or whatnot is william

chanel’s enemy WHAT?? AS IN WILLIAM FRANKLYN MILLER??

lee lee huh 😃

↳ we dated for a month back when we were 15 or so and realized we were way better off as friends

lee lee why ?

↳ idk i think i was just jealous of lily 😭 but anyways we’ve been just friends since and i’m completely happy with that. i don't see him romantically anymore, yeah he’s hot but like nah. but yeah if he was confused, it's probably because i was best friends with levi when we dated too and might question if he was the cause of our split?? AGAIN THATS IF HE OVERTHINKS IT

dr dre i feel like i’m reading an autobiographical analysis you definitely are fond towards “millers”

↳ ur welcome <333 and NO i am not

chanel’s enemy okok so we got several people who’d be jealous

↳ WHAT WDYM SEVERAL I ONLY LISTED ONE

lee lee ain’t no way you’re ignoring charlie

↳ DUDES I REALLY DONT THINK HE LIKES ME

dr dre but there could be a possibility? just don’t rule him out

↳ bro he doesn't like me 😭 but yeah trust me everything’s gonna be okay again i dont like anyone and no one likes me, and we'll make sure it's obvious i'm single in case anyone does though that may take a while... ANYWAYS

lee lee suuuuure you should hang out with charlie btw

↳ idk why but im scared to 😭

lee lee but you need to he misses you a lot yk

↳ doesn’t change the fact that im SCARED

lee lee WHY WOULD YOU BE SCARED ITS JUST CHARLIE

↳ IDK I JUST DONT WANNA SEEM STUPID OR UNATTRACTIVE AND SHIT

lee lee HE FLIRTS WITH YOU ALL THE TIME AND MESSES UP JUST AS MUCH, YOURE NOT THE EMBARRASSING ONE HERE

↳ DUDE I KNOW I CAN BE AND I DONT WANNA DRIVE HIM AWAY

dr dre sure you and levi hang out and are sweet and shit but BRO the teeth rotting sugar is you and charlie in your damn COMMENTS

↳ ITS NOT THAT BAD, IS IT?? 😭 GOD I HOPE CHARLIE DOESNT THINK OF ME ANY DIFFERENTLY

chanel’s enemy i think u like charlie, miss girl

↳ NO

dr dre nah, they’d be cute together, even charlie said so himself

chanel’s enemy you dumbass

dr dre uhhh ANYWAYS said too much im gonna sleep again love youse

lee lee BRO yeah night babes <3

chanel’s enemy LOVE U BAE GN

↳ what the duck STUPID AUTOCORRECT WHAT THE FUCK AINT NO WAY YALL JUST DIPPED fine ily guys too </3 BUT DONT THINK IM LETTING THAT GO EASILY ugh what do you guys mean 😭 aint no way thats true OKOK YK WHAT BYE!! FOR REAL THIS TIME

— taglist.

@shokocoded @istillremberthefirstfallofsnow @surftrips @svtsimp22 @gcidrvsh @idontevencare1223 @thames-fig @captainshischier @reggieslifeboat @multifandom-loser @wheelerslover @mermaid-mqtel @randomnpc456 @kaithoughs @isab3lita @mariposa555 @sunshinessky @myr-cheri @thedeadlynights @ella33 @c1nn4mng1rl @poppysrin @breadbrobin @lucy-the-ant @jules-loves-lukecastellan @taloulalila @tom-pls-fuck-me @mia-luvs @iknowyoureabigfan @rinisfruity14 @chasebeth @auttumnsayshi @prettygirlformula @alwayswndr @balletfilmss @kestisvrse @1forthemoney2forthekish @eissaaaa @emelia07 @toffytaste @soulaires @bearwon @happy-mushrooms @simrah1012 @blimp-blimp @obxstiles @yuminako @hopexcroc @mackycat11 @knowugetdejavu @0puddleofgender0

thank you so much for all your love and support, it really means the world to me. y/n's beginning to find out certain things, wonder where things will go from here 🤔

as always, i will continue updating the taglist :)

i love you and am so proud of you, stay safe and drink water <3

#charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell x you #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo #pjotv #social media fic #luke castellan #percy jackson x reader

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averytirednerd · 3 months

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Oh yeah, time for a big rant about Hazbin Hotel!!!

I haven’t really had much of a chance to sit down and write about this since I watched the episodes, so things I say are probably going to reflect what others have said. I’m just writing this to gush about the things I love about some particular songs in HH.

I didn’t have any big expectations going into the first episode, because I’d mostly heard negative reviews of the show so far. I had heard that the songs, however, were bright spots, so I really looked out for the songs and listened in every time we were graced with one. The characters are truly the best versions of themselves whenever there’s a song going on, even if they aren’t the main focus of the song. It’s amazing to see, especially since my favorite thing about this show is the characters themselves.

My favorites are “Loser, Baby” & “Stayed Gone” and will probably be the main focus of this post because <3333

“Stayed Gone” is sung by Christian Borle (Vox) and Amir Talai (Alastor) and I could not be happier about it. Their voices are amazing here, and my favorite bits of this song are on repeat in my head.

I also love little visuals like the mug Vox has in the talk show format, the scrolling text in the news show format, or Vox’s error message toward the end of their bantering.

(The scrolling text says: “I’m totally not worried about this guy and neither should you be. I totally wrecked his sh*t last time he tried me.”)

Alastor really gets under Vox’s skin and it makes me kick my feet every time. Their dynamic truly is everything, and I’m so excited we got this song that showcases it perfectly.

He clearly enjoys it too, what a little jerk.

Speaking of these two, Vox definitely had/has a thing for Al at some point, right? I mean…inviting him to the Vees for a start. Not to mention just the v i b e s. Poor guy though, it’s definitely one-sided.

I love Al’s use of…modern…lingo. Truly a spectacle. That on top of it being a reveal of Al’s rejection to Vox’s offer 💀 I love this man <333

Last thing about this song, promise, but also I love the casual little lore drops and more pieces to the puzzle of the past that we get. Very exciting! Can’t wait to see how everything fits together once we find more pieces.

Okay okay, moving on. “Loser, Baby” is amazing musically as well as visually.

First things first, I LOVE JAZZ OMG AND IT FITS HUSK’S VIBE AND EVERYTHING SO PERFECTLY???

Keith David’s voice definitely fits Husk in my eyes now, I see it, it works. He’s amazing. Does a fantastic job.

Not to mention Blake Roman’s performance was, of course, incredible as well.

The big, upbeat, brassy sound in this song is amazing and I’m loving the trumpet in it especially (any fellow trumpet players? no?)

I love everything about this song. The visuals, voices, instrumentals, lyrics, message, all of it!

Husk slowly going from “yeah you kinda suck lmao, but so do I” in order to not make Angel feel like he’s not being genuine, to sneaking in a better message of “we’re not perfect but it’s okay, don’t be so hard on yourself” (and getting Angel to believe/go along with it too!!) is amazing. It’s a perfect example of these characters being the best versions of themselves during musical numbers.

This song is what solidified Husk as number 2 in my rankings (and I’m sure I’m not the only one). I mean…just look at the way he moves, it’s so silly.

(We’re going to ignore the Videoshop watermarks, okay?)

Overall, I’m loving this show so far despite some obvious issues with pacing n such and an overall rocky start. Especially loving the songs, which I think kinda make the show rn.

If anyone wants to add anything (because I definitely didn’t cover a whole lot, just surface level stuff because even this took a while to type out) then please feel free to! Also ask me any questions you’ve got for me concerning stuff that has/will happen(ed) in Hazbin Hotel. I love HH discourse!

Thanks to those of you who read all the way through, sorry for such a long post lol <3

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moneymartin · 21 days

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jealous possessive Lottie hcs?:3

🦌- jealous!lottie hcs

used nat as the punching bag here but this includes every other yj or wtv. this is so lowk kinda long sry i got lured in real deep. also probably makes no sense lol!

honestly i don’t think she’s a very jealous girl… she’s moreso the type to just cling to you a lot cause she’s scared 😭

but ohhhh my lord when she sees you with someone from her team it’s all over

she starts off easy probably asking simple questions like “oh, what were you and nat talking about yesterday at lunch?”

she doesn’t wanna seem too obvious but you can tell there’s something wrong

when you and that specific teammate hang out a lot more lottie tends to take much more notice. she’s noting down the times you come back to her place after that hangout and shit

the times are extremely repetitive and you come home around the same time which makes her believe you’re hooking up with them…….

that makes lottie become a lot more mean because she truly does not have the heart to end things with you. she can only be mean. also i genuinely can’t see her breaking things off i know she’d be a mess 😣

when you ask her questions it’s kind of like the typical jealousy filled answer.

you ask her for the homework answers and she’ll say “go ask nat.” and you can’t really get them out of her cause she’s so mad. you’d literally ask her “what’s for dinner” and she’d respond with something completely unrelated like “maybe nat can make you dinner??” OMFG WHAT A BJTCH

before one of the hangouts you have with that person lottie pulls you to the side for a few minutes before you leave

she’s on your lap and biting your neck to mark you up >__< leaving hickeys on your jaw and neck and on your collarbone. WHEW

the person you’re always with notices them and asks you whats wrong but you just say it’s a bunch of bites 💀💀

after that lottie tends to mark you up a lot more. especially in bed. scratching your back and arms as hard as she can. not to the point where it bleeds i think just to the point where they’re extremely noticeable

when you come home and she sees a ‘new hickey’ she is DONE! it’s not even new though it’s literally her’s she jus doesn’t remember it -_-

but she’s too fed up and takes you up to the bedroom to strip everything off of you

she takes her anger out on you during the sex…

like she’ll probably drive into you with her strap soo hard. it’s smth you aren’t very used to yet but she could care less

also tries to choke you too but you do that little tapping thing on her hand so she can stop. she feels bad but keeps going anyways cause shes so fucking jealous

during it she’ll grunt things out like “can they fuck you like i can??!” and it gets you real confused 😭 “bet they can’t be this deep in you, huh? is that right?!”

afterwards you’d confront her about it though. asking her what she meant by that and then she says “well, you’ve been hanging out with (whoever) wayy too much, and i- i got jealous and…”

she babbles on a bunch and starts crying even though you’re the one who practically got ripped in half!!!

you manage to comfort her though saying things like “y’know i’m just hanging out with them because they’re my friend. i’m not that type of person, lott.” while you wipe away her tears 😞💔

anyways she somehow starts to fall asleep before you do while she traces the scratches on your back

in the morning she kisses all of the purple and reddish hickeys on your skin to apologize for being jealous and way too rough the night before. she also kisses the scratches and helps you treat them with some creams ☹️

#yellowjackets #lottie matthews smut #lottie matthews #lottie matthews headcanons #lottie x reader #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ

Harry Styles x British Royal!Reader

Her Royal Highness Princess YN, daughter to Prince Charles and late Princess Diana, Prince and Princess of Wales, younger sister to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex, and granddaughter to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and His Royal Highness Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh would’ve never thought to meet Harry Styles by accident—by literally running into him. And Harry Styles would’ve never thought to meet the Princess of England again after that seemingly fateful afternoon.

faceclaim: Saoirse Ronan

author’s note: If you see any mistakes I made—especially royal title wise—please send an ask (anon asks are enabled!). I seriously love and appreciate your help with that <3

series masterlist » prologue

;

sunflowerbutterfly Sometimes I really hate my job—especially if I have to change out of my comfy pullover and fluffy slippers into a dress, a coat, and some high heels.

Seriously, who invented high heels? Hey Alexa, who invented high heels? … ah, so ancient Iran, aka Persia, is to blame. Great. I will condemn those for centuries dead people happily while I suffer during every step I take this afternoon. Burn in hell, ancient Persian torturer.

Liked by MacMark, murderbane, gingerprince, and 4 others | 6 comments

MacMark You only have to find the shoe.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly It‘s easy for you to say because you can walk in every shoe, Meg 💀

↳ MacMark Well… That is true, but everyone has their pair of shoe 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Then my pair is obviously and most definitely my Nike sneaker or Converse

liked by MacMark

murderbane Rebell against the norms! Wear sneaker!

liked by sunflowerbutterfly

↳ gingerprince Not sure if Granny—or the monarchy as such—would love that suggestion, Meredith.

↳ murderbane Fuck the system!

liked by gingerprince and MacMark

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I know again why Granny won’t let you come to Buckingham for another lunch.

↳ murderbane Oh, come on, YNN! That flying sandwich was fun!

↳ gingerprince Wait, you are the one responsible for the Salmon Sandwich Incident???

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Please, don’t call it that, brother dearest.

↳ murderbane I am! And he definitely can call it that. It’s the truth and nothing but the truth.

liked by gingerprince

gingerprince High heels are way out of my league, but they look uncomfortable. Pack a pair of more comfier shoes as second choice?

↳ sunflowerbutterfly No shit, Sherlock 🙄

↳ gingerprince I am sorry that I don’t know more about the secrets of a lady 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I know again why William is my favorite brother.

↳ gingerprince He is not and we both know it 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Keep on dreaming 😙

↳ gingerprince I love you too, dear sister ❤️

instylemagazine Princess YN is now arriving at Strand Campus of King’s College London in a fitted navy blue mid-calf coat by Gucci and black velvet high heels by Jimmy Choo. She is wearing her signature golden butterfly pin—an heirloom of her mother, late Princess Diana.

Liked by yourfan1, yourfan2, royalistsbitch, annetwist, and 4,327 others | 1,441 comments

dianaforever The pin 🥺

↳ ynismyqueen She once told a reporter that she always wears it to official appearances because it helps her with her anxiety - it’s like her mom is with her 🥺

↳ dianaforever Oh gosh, that’s so sweet but so sad at the same time 😭❤️

yourfan1 Princess YN is a style icon.

yourfan2 Damn, she looks stunning.

↳ yourfan3 True!!!! Though the hat was kinda over the top, but I know for sure that she doesn’t want to wear those but has to

↳ yourfan2 Everyone is wearing those ridiculous hats, so she has to. She will probably rip it off as soon as she is back in the car 😅

royalistsbitch I’m on my knees again. This coat is gorgeous 😮‍💨 But the price 😩

yn_andharryshipper She is wearing Gucci, he is wearing Gucci, I want them to meet, but it will stay a dream, I know it.

hsfan1 Harry’s mom liked this post 🥺❤️

;

She could feel the looming shadows of her two Royal Protection Officers right at her back. Aaron and Egil—the first broad, dark, and Scottish, the latter tall, blonde, bearded, and Swedish—shielded her body from the screams of reporters and blinding lights of their clicking cameras while the princess climbed into the back of the waiting SUV. Inside the cozily warm vehicle, YN ripped off the obnoxious hat she was supposed to wear and threw it without a second glance onto the seat next to her. Meanwhile, her feet kicked off the high heels, and with a strangled groan, the blonde pulled them up one after the other and massaged her soles with closed eyes.

The left front door got opened as Egil climbed into the car; Bernard—her favorite driver—already sat behind the wheel and looked through the rear mirror back at the princess. She smiled at the sight of his kind and twinkling eyes. “To Starbucks, Your Highness?” He asked while Egil buckled up. YN nodded. “That would be great, thank you, Bernard. But could we grab a cup at the one in Notting Hill? Near Holland Park? I’m most definitely not in the mood for a crowd.”—Which would form in front of the Starbucks near the river on the other Thames bank opposite Westminster because most tourists frequented this shop. The driver hummed and used the blinker. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Sighing, YN leaned back in her seat but pushed back upward as Egil reached between his feet, clad in shining black Oxford shoes, and conjured a shoebox. He turned in his car seat to hand it over to the princess. “Your sneaker,” the blonde giant smiled, and YN grinned happily. “I thought I forgot them back at Kensington!” She exclaimed and grabbed the box with her current favorite Converse shoes—one in lavender and the other one in a sunflower yellow. Ever since the reporters had seen the princess wearing the odd color combination, every single pair was sold out in the UK and other parts of the world. The internet had been full of posts spotting the same two Converse shoes the princess regularly wore in paparazzi shots.

“Your lady in waiting had handed me the box right before we left, Your Highness, together with this,” the Protection Officer told her while YN had already put on the left shoe. Chuckling, she accepted the book carefully wrapped in soft tissue paper. She knew which book it contained, so she quickly continued putting on the more comfortable shoes before leaning back and unwrapping the book. The first edition of Pride and Prejudice was her entire pride and joy. YN knew it was kind of posh to carry this particular edition around instead of a cheaper paperback edition, but she only would read in it during the ride and maybe in the line while she waited for her coffee. No one would suspect it for a first edition, only if one had better knowledge about books than the majority of the population.

“Thanks, Egil,” she smiled, and the Swedish giant only nodded softly. “There’s nothing to thank me for, Your Highness.” And with that, he turned back and left the princess reading in silence.

;

Arriving at the comparably empty Starbucks, YN unbuckled while her door had already got opened by Aaron, who had sat in the car following them with two other Protection Officers. Egil slid off his seat and stationed himself between the opened door and the sidewalk, eyes wandering over the few people strolling down the street. She pushed her finger between the pages before climbing out of the SUV and straightened her coat before pushing a blonde curl behind her ear. The book was opened again in her hands because YN knew how this always went: she would leave the car with Aaron and Egil but would have to wait a few more moments until one of the other officers—Matthew was on duty today—had exited the place in question to give them the all-clear.

The happily moving bell announced Matt’s return, and he nodded to the other two officers. “All clear, only a few customers,” he told them, and YN moved without thought; book still opened and nose buried inside it. Aaron jumped forward to open the door, Egil right at her back, and Matt shielded her side from potential harm before he returned to the second car. “Thanks, A,” the princess mumbled, mind deep inside the world of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.

“I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.” The words left her lips in a whisper and sighing, her finger stroked over the words, always feeling the wonder over literature as soon as she opened particular books. Pride and Prejudice was one of them.

And maybe it was because she read about the devastatingly romantic endeavors of fictional characters who had a much better functioning love life than the Princess of England ever had. Maybe it was because she always had such bad luck in love and interpersonal relationships ever since growing old enough to have the serious kind of it.

But the universe let her run into a solid chest, her precious book tumbling out of her hands and down to the wooden floor where it laid cover-up.

Suddenly, hectic erupted around her, and Aaron and Egil jumped into action while YN still recovered from the sudden stop. Strong hands were gently wrapped around her upper arms to safe her from following her book to the ground, and the fingers of her right hand had buried themselves into the soft fabric of a pullover out of sheer panic and surprise.

Aaron stepped around and stretched out his hands in order to remove the intruder from the princess while Egil tried to maneuver himself between them and the woman. Blinking multiple times, YN shook off the daze; her eyes wandering over an orange and white striped slip-over, a white and brown plaid shirt underneath until they moved to a handsome face with sharp features, a soft beard shadow covering his chin, cheeks, and the skin over his soft looking upper lip. Sea foam green eyes stared wide and in shock down at her, seemingly still taking in the person he had run into, but YN finally was back in reality as Aaron put his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I need to ask you to step back, sir,” he spoke up in his most scaring officer voice, and as if the brunette only had noticed the presence of the two looming shadows in immaculate black suits now, his wide eyes moved from her face to the towering Scot. After he didn’t follow the order, Aaron grabbed his shoulder and stared him down with a glare as cold as the North Pole. “I said, I need you to step back, sir,” he stressed his request further, the threat lingering in his tone. Egil cleared his throat to get noticed too, and her collision partner almost paled, his hands slowly letting go off her upper arms, but only after he had made sure with another glance she was steady enough.

“Sorry,” he spoke and raised both hands before he took a step back but bent down to get the book from the floor. He looked up to her as he grabbed the old binding, and Harry still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that the Princess of England had run right into his arms. He still wasn’t sure if all of this really happened or if this was a trick of his tired brain. But the grab of one of the suit wearers on his shoulder had been unpleasant enough to make him think that this really is happening to him.

YN stared down at him with just as wide eyes as he paused in his movements and couldn’t comprehend her current reality. Harry Styles crouched in front of her, in a Starbucks store, after she had successfully run him over. Her heart skipped several beats before it started beating in her throat. This wasn’t something usual, not even for the Princess of England.

“Here,” Harry Styles spoke softly after he had raised back to his towering height and held her book in his ring-clad fingers. “Thank you,” she breathlessly whispered but threw her two shadows a warning look. “Everything is fine, Aaron. Egil.” The men nodded shortly but held their gazes settled on the singer, not daring letting him out of their protective sight. YN looked back to the man in front of her, a unsure smile tucking at the corner of her mouth. “I am sorry for that.” It came out almost embarrassed because he obviously didn’t do anything resembling treason or murder. He only had saved her from the embarrassment of meeting the floor with her butt, just like the book had done in her place.

The man with the fluffiest curls she had ever seen only smiled and waved one of his hands lazily. “It’s alright,” he promised before suddenly something seemingly came to his mind. “Your Highness.” And with that, Harry Styles attempted to bow before her, but YN couldn’t have any of that. Gently, she pressed her unoccupied hand and the fist holding her book against his shoulders and shook her head at his confused expression. “Please, don’t do this. I should bow before you.” The princess chuckled. “I mean, I did it often enough in my rooms as a teenager, right in front of a poster of One Direction.” A hand shot up to her mouth and covered it so nothing more embarrassing knowledge would leave it.

And Harry? He stood absolutely stunned there before a soft grin spread over his face—which made him even more handsome in her still unbelieving eyes. But YN didn’t let him utter a single word before pointing over to the staring baristas behind the counter. It wouldn’t have been a surprise if their mouths gaped at the sight of the world’s most famous singer and the Princess of England in their shop. “Would you like to have a coffee? A tea? Something cold? A hot chocolate? After the inconvenience of me running you practically over, it’s the least I can do.” YN was rambling, she knew it but just couldn’t stop.

He made her nervous—as if she wasn’t a grown woman anymore and instead turned back into the insecure teenage girl she used to be (well, even today, she wasn’t the self-confidence in person).

Harry tried to shake his head, but a voice in there screamed to accept the offer to live a few more minutes in her presence. This was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of moment, so he should stretch it as long as possible—not because he wanted the paparazzi to know, but because his former teenager self would kill him if he would run away now. So all he did was slowly nod and instantly patted his shoulder internally because he got to see the most radiant smile he probably had ever witnessed.

Grinning, YN pressed Pride and Prejudice against her chest and suppressed a heavy but blissed sigh at the sight of his growing smile. If she had thought he was irresistible on-screen, she now knew that this assumption was utter bollocks. Harry Styles was even more captivating in reality, face-to-face, and YN almost dreaded the day when he would be in a happy relationship with cats, a wife, and a bunch of kids because it meant she had to bury her crush definitively.

Turning to her protection squad, as she loved to call them, the princess nodded to a table at the halfway point between counter and door. “Why don’t you sit over there until we’re finished? You don’t have to stand around,” the blonde suggested and pointed to a table with a pair of chairs closer to the counter. “You will have the best view of me and the door. Black coffee and a Caramel Frappuccino?” They nodded hesitantly, still not used to the princess's kindness even after years in her service.

As the two went to their assigned table, YN turned back to Harry and smiled up at him. “What would Harry Styles like to have?”

;

pagesix Rumors are getting loud that Harry Styles and Princess YN met at a Starbucks in Notting Hill, London, UK. Several sources claimed to have seen the singer-songwriter and Princess of England together near Holland Park, where she bought him a coffee before talking for hours. Sources say the two celebrities left together after getting another coffee.

Liked by hsfan1, hsfan2, yourfan1, yn_andharryshipper, and 3,287 others | 960 comments

hsfan1 EXCUSE ME???? 😱

1direction4ever She always was a 1D fan, if I remember correctly, so this would be just ✨chefskiss✨

hsfan2 SCREAMING RIGHT NOW

↳ yourfan1 SAME???? I literally can’t breathe.

hsfan3 If that’s true… Save me.

yourfan2 This would be a dream come true for YN 🥺

yn_andharryshipper Please stop pushing my expectations.

hsfan4 I SAW THEM 😱😮‍💨

liked by hsfan1, yourfan2, hsfan3, and 77 others

;

“I still can’t believe I ran into the Princess of England,” Harry laughed softly while walking next to the woman in question, steaming hot coffee in hand. YN grinned up to him, an equally steaming to-go cup in hand while contemplating how she had ended up running into Harry Styles, sharing a table at Starbucks, and now strolling through Holland Park next to him with a second coffee in hand.

This day was definitely something entirely else.

“Believe me. I would have never believed if someone had told me this morning I would meet Harry Styles because I run into him,” the blonde returned and shook her head in utter wonder. The singer gently nudged her to the side. “It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one a tad bashful, just so you know.” YN looked up at him while sipping her sweetened coffee and nodded in agreement. “It takes off the awkward edge of the situation, does it not?”

Harry hummed before turning around for the third time ever since they had left Starbucks to stroll through Holland Park just around the corner. “And they’re at your back every time you leave Kensington or Buckingham?” He dared to ask, and the blonde princess looked over her shoulder as well, where Aaron, Egil, and Matthew walked at a respectful distance but kept their eyes either on her very person or on her surroundings. Even Harry was eyed cautiously from time to time. “Every minute of every day I spend outside Kensington. I am sorry if they make you uncomfortable. And again, sorry for their treatment earlier—they are kind of… quick in their actions when it comes to me.” It still seriously bothered her as soon as she remembered the harsh grip Aaron had used on the man next to her, even though it had been her fault, to begin with.

But Harry only shrugged it off before pushing one hand into the pocket of his coat. “I really don’t mind, and the situation earlier is already forgotten. Really,” he told her with empathy as his eyes had witnessed the unconvincingly furrowed blonde brows. “I only imagine it to be… constricting. I have the freedom to walk around without security when I’m not on my way to shows or interviews and all the stuff, but you…” The princess clearly could see and hear the sympathy of the singer, but she only shrugged with a small smile. “I am used to it—it had always been this way. I can’t remember a moment outside the palace where I didn’t have them trailing behind me. Even during my studies at Oxford.” Now, Harry looked back again. “So… The dark brooding shadow and the light, bright giant always sat behind you in a sea of young adults? Let me guess.” He grinned now, and YN felt her heart beating even faster than it already did. She just had to laugh. “Yes, if you guessed that they had a lot of female admirers trailing behind them, then you are totally right,” the princess chuckled, the memories still very vivid in her mind. The man grinned as well and softly grabbed her hand to steady her as YN kind of stumbled over a bump on the stone path, and both felt their hearts flutter.

“Sometimes I’m too clumsy for this world,” she mumbled behind her coffee cup, and Harry chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, it never shows,” he winked. YN felt the blood rising into her cheeks and hid them in the collar of her coat. “I am glad to hear that. Imagine what Granny would say if she knew that the entire Commonwealth gossiped over their clumsy princess.” She always knew how to change topics involving compliments into a joke. Her family didn’t like that very much. But Harry seemingly caught up to it, judging by the knowing expression settling on his devilishly handsome face. “What does she say about the gossip throughout the country that their princess is a sworn Harry Styles fan?” YN let her head fall back while a laugh escaped her. “She took it surprisingly good. Well, she isn’t a huge fan of me talking to god knows what interviewers, magazines, and newspapers, but she knows my opinion about it and how rarely I change my mind if someone tries to change it—especially if the someone is part of my family. So, naturally, she wasn’t a fan of the entire world knowing the contents of my playlists. But my music preferences never bothered her, and I think she even enjoys some of your songs, but don’t ever mention that to her.” Smirking, YN softly shrugged to end her small monologue. Sometimes she really couldn’t shut her bloody mouth.

Harry laughed under his breath while maneuvering her around the fountain and behind the line of trees to escape a small group of young adults. “I will keep that in mind in case I’ll ever meet the Queen of England. But after today? I won’t say never ever again.” They rounded some sadly-looking bushes—winter should be cursed and banned from her island—before he increased his steps to stop right in front of her. Cocking a blonde brow, YN looked up to him, unsure what this meant. “I think I would’ve known if you ever went to one of my shows.” She hummed, interested in what this would lead to. But now, Harry looked nervous, as if he hadn’t thought this through, but he proceeded anyway after a deep breath. “Would you like to come to one? I could arrange that you won’t be bothered by anyone, save you a spot backstage, block an entire row for you, whatever you want. I just…”

The brunette fell silent, the panic evident in his eyes, and YN just had to think how thoughtful and… lovely he was. “I just thought you’d might like to come, ‘s all,” the singer ended in a lower tone than before, seemingly trying to find a hole in which he could vanish. But YN smiled warmly up to him, and the sight alone eased his rising anxiety tremendously. “Funny thing you mention that. My brothers and papa gifted me a ticket for the London show in your upcoming tour, so… yeah. It will finally happen.” But then, a thought occurred in her mind, and her bright eyes widened. “Could I come to your Fine Line listening?”

Now, he stared down at her with just as wide eyes as she did and felt himself nodding violently. “Yes! Of course! That… that would be great, actually. It’s supposed to be something small and… intimate, so this would be perfect. I… Give me a sec.” With that, he rounded YN with a mission in mind and stepped up to her protection squad. She couldn’t exactly hear what they talked about, but Harry returned with a piece of paper and a pen. He started to scribble something on the white surface as he stopped in front of her and smiled as he handed it over. YN took it, of course, and examined the number and the ‘Harry’ written in pretty handwriting. “You are aware of the fact that I possess and carry around a phone in my pockets?” The princess asked with a smile tucking at her lips, but Harry only shrugged. “I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to seem rude in assuming anything.” Her heart fluttered again at his thoughtfulness.

This man simply was a literal angel.

“It’s my private number. You can call or text me whenever you want. The details for the listening event aren’t wrapped up yet, so if you have dates in mind—let me know, yeah? I’d love to have you there because… I don’t know. You are just easy to talk to, and I think you’d enjoy this little get-together with some people to listen to me rambling about my writing and recording process, and me singing, of course, and that sounds so narcissistic, and I’m sorry for that, and…-“

YN stepped closer to him and tapped his lips gently with the white card to make him stop. “You do not have to worry about how you sound because I know you are not a narcissist. You just love what you’re doing. And I would love to see you in your element and talk to your lovely fans because Harries are the best kind of company.” He sighed deeply before taking a deep breath. “Okay.” She smiled up at him. “Okay,” she repeated and took a glance at her watch. “Fuck.” She surprised them both with her small outburst. “I totally forgot the time, but this was probably the best afternoon I had in a very long time.” Harry took her emptied cup out of her hand and threw them both in the bin next to the sadly-looking bush. “I will never forget the story about the Salmon Sandwich Incident,” the brunette told her with a serious look before breaking out into a chuckle, to which she followed close. “Dito with the Cheeto ice cream story.” Another laughing fit caught the pair before YN slowly held out her hand, which Harry gladly accepted.

They stood there for a rather long time, just shaking hands and staring into each other’s eyes, taking in the sight of one another while stressing the moment into infinity. “I have to go,” YN whispered, and Harry nodded. “I know.” But still, he didn’t let go of her hand, nor let she go of his. “I really want to see you again,” he all of a sudden almost burst out even though his brain had told him to keep this wish a secret. But after nearly three hours in her company, Harry couldn’t let her just go without letting her know what he thought. Surprise settled on her face. “You do?” The surprise was even evident in her voice. “Yes, I do. And not just at events or shows, or on the television.” Her breath hitched in her throat, and the princess swallowed dryly and tried to suck enough oxygen into her lungs to answer him properly.

“I’d love that.”

;

vanityfair Today’s guest is singer-songwriter Harry Styles! We had the pleasure to talk about the process behind his new studio album Fine Line, how life has treated the 26-year-old in the past months, and to which realizations he came during the promotion of his new album.

Liked by sunflowerbutterfly, hsfan1, hsfan2, gemmastyles, jefezoff, and 38,691 others | 14,436 comments

vanityfair “I recently had the most interesting and… and most mind-opening conversation in a very long time. You see, even though there are millions of celebrities out there in the world, there are… I don’t know, differences between some and others. I, for example, can cross the street and get my groceries without security officers behind my back, while others can’t do ordinary things like that—think about it for a second, and you are made painfully aware of the freedom and… and independence you hold. I can’t say it in other words, but I felt privileged when realizing it. Society has to keep that in mind before throwing assumptions through the room because even celebrities are only human.”

liked by hsfan1, yourfan1, annetwist, gemmastyles, and 2,316 others

↳ hsfan1 I’m so sure that he talks about YN if the rumors are true 🥺

↳ yourfan1 that’s definitely about YN, can’t change my mind.

hsfan2 He looked so handsome in that slip-over 😮‍💨

harrystylesforever He speaks the truth.

harrystylesfanpage Handsome, thoughtful, a literal angel. One could not ask for more in a man.

liked by sunflowerbutterfly, hsfan5 and 12 others

yourfan2 I wish the universe would grant me the sight of YN and Harry together in a happy relationship, but I know that that’s not possible because of Royal Protocol or some shit.

↳ royalistsbitch It is possible, but imagine the situation YN is in after her second brother married a “commoner”. She probably has the pressure to marry another royal because her Grandma wants it that way 😩

liked by yourfan2, yourfan3, ynismyqueen and 33 others

;

Returning to Buckingham had been unpleasant. Not because she disliked the palace—she kind of loved it, actually—but because she knew how her Grandma would react after she most definitely had read the articles and assumptions wildly thrown around. Her Granny never really believed what the tabloids wrote, but she still asked every single time her face appeared in one of these ever since that… incident with Lewis Cornwall, son of Nicholas Cornwall, Duke of Hastings and her father’s—former—closest friend. YN knew that she only deeply cared for her youngest granddaughter and always wanted to know her side of the stories circulating through the world before finally going down the drain because something new sparked the tabloids’ interest.

God bless the short attention span of those, the princess thought cynical.

“Her Majesty awaits you in the blue salon,” Harold, one of the many butlers, told her after the blonde had left the car, only two days after her fateful meeting with Harry Styles. With a soft sigh, YN walked up the many stairs, put carpeted hallways behind her, and crossed employees with a gentle smile on her lips and a nod of her head before finally arriving in front of the blue salon. Taking a last deep breath, the princess entered the grand room with the blue wallpapers through the wide-open French doors; her eyes immediately fell onto the white-haired woman sitting on one of the armchairs, signature purse on the coffee table right next to her. A few years back, it had its spot next to her feet, but now, with even more years on her life scale, the Queen opted to have it on elevated places so she didn’t need to bend down anymore.

“Ah, there you are,” the Queen of England greeted her granddaughter, and YN walked over to her, bent down, and pressed a loving kiss to her wrinkled cheek. “Excuse me, Granny. I just got your message and tried to get here as fast as possible,” she explained, but the older woman only dismissed her excuse with a slight raise of her hand. “Nonsense, darling. Only because I scream for attention does not mean you have to rush away from whatever appointment you had to get to your old Grandma.”

Chuckling, YN situated herself on the armchair opposite her and mumbled a silent “Thank you” as Hugh came with the tea. Taking the saucer with the cup of tea on it in hand, she softly stirred through the perfectly brewed Earl Grey with a hint of lemon and a teaspoon of sugar inside. She sometimes preferred milk to lighten the taste a bit, but with her Granny, she always drank it the most British way.

“Am I allowed to take a sip and get a bite of that sandwich, or do you want to get straight to the point?” YN asked with a smile tucking at her lips, and the Queen showed one of her rare grins, specially reserved for her grandchildren and her husband. “I thought I would let you taste the new recipe for the tomato cream first,” Elizabeth returned, and the princess laughed softly before putting down the saucer and the cup and folding her hands in her lap. “No, you can jump straight to the point.”

The Queen sipped on her tea herself before morphing her expression into something resembling seriousness. YN leaned back in the armchair, crossing her legs and elbows resting on the armrests. “I never object your tendencies to wander and stroll around the city, nor do I object your fondness of talking to… interesting magazines like a common celebrity. I fully understand that you belong to a different generation, which handles things differently. But what I have to object to is your contact with said common celebrities.” Cocking a blonde brow, YN waited for her to continue. “A singer, YN,” she almost spat it out as if his profession was something bordering scandalous. All the princess could do was shrug her shoulders. “I don’t see what is so wrong about being a singer for a living, especially if one is a worldwide known and praised artist. He is British, English even, Granny.”

Elizabeth didn’t laugh about it. Instead, her forehead furrowed tremendously, white eyebrows knitted. “This is not something to jest about, YN Diana.” Oh, they had reached the second name dropping. Sighing, YN put both feet on the ground and leaned forward, forearms resting on her knees, confusion visible on her face. “I don’t understand the fuzz about all of it, Grandma. You never objected to my friendship with Meredith or Archie, even after he had given up every single title and started his acting career. Why the sudden change?” The Queen eyed her intently. “Meredith and Archibald are proper associations for a princess.” Now she had lost her entirely. “And Harry Styles is not? The most thoughtful and loveliest man ever in existence is not a proper acquaintance?” Her Grandmother sighed deeply. “You don’t know him, YN, and… look how he dresses. This is certainly not an adequate connection for a princess. You have to think about this family, YN, about your title and position. You are not a commoner, so you cannot behave like one, not if you do not want to end like your…-“

The princess raised jerkily to both feet and let the Queen herself grow silent. “Do not dare to end that sentence how you intended to end it,” she whispered with a strained voice, anger boiling in her body, eyes resting unmoving on the older woman in front of her.

Gladly, Jameson just entered with a bow but stopped at the sight of the standing princess. “I am sorry, Your Highness, I didn’t know you were here. I will return when…-“ But YN shook her head. “No, it’s alright, Jameson. I was on my way out anyway,” she told him with as much grace as she could muster because she felt like screaming and leaving this place running. She spared another glance at her Granny before curtsying just as she had been drilled all her life. “Grandmother,” was all the princess said before leaving the blue salon to return to Kensington, back into the safety of her home.

;

First of all, thank you so freaking much for the AMAZING and mindblowing support on the first chapter of this little series. I’m already thinking about adding more chapters to it because I’m so in love with it. Let me know if you’d like that or if I should add little blurbs here and there! And now, thanks for reading this second chapter. Hope y’all liked it <3

Taglist: @onecrazydirectioner @tinyhrry @feestyles @r3vivedbur @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @oh-its-jennyyy @butdaddyiluvvhim @cwiphswmwasohmm @agustdpeach @sleutherclaw @formulasatellite @princessmiaelicia @rororo06 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @venomsvl @maraudersrry @theroosterswife24 @lovurryy @indierockgirrl @lazybot @laura-naruto-fan1998 @awesomebooklover17 @ihavelovedyousincewewere18 @illicithallways @mrosales16 @keriberry @b-reads-things @bugg06

I hope I got everyone on the taglist. If you miss your name—please reach out!

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anzulvr · 1 year

Text

OUR LIFE BEGINNINGS AND ALWAYS // SPOILERS FOR THE DLCS IN STEP 2 for both Cove and Derek!

In which two friends like their other best friend.

COVE / DEREK X READER (head cannons might make a oneshot 🤞🤞)

— reaction

Cove is kinda confused, he never really expected Derek to like you in that way, he never really got any signs (Derek was trying to hide it) but he wouldn’t be upset or anything. You’re all friends in the end, besides Derek was being considerate trying to hide his feelings for everyone else’s sake.

Chalks it up to “Well who wouldn’t like MC?”

(Final warning for Derek dlc spoilers!!)

Derek has always been aware of Coves crush since it’s super obvious to everyone. In his DLC if you tell him you thought he was cute he admits his first impression of you was that you are cute too! So I think after he hangs out with you and Cove for the first time he realizes early on that Cove already likes you so he’d just try to act like nothing but the more you hang out the harder ignoring his feelings get. Derek’s reaction to Cove finding that out that he likes you would be worried cause he doesn’t want to make anything weird. Cove wouldn’t throw their friendship away just cause he’s got a crush on you. Derek would go down a spiral of “what if Cove hates me.” “What if they both never speak to me again.” So just make sure he knows you’re not going to ghost him over this😭

more in cut!!

Extra hcs for u!!🫶🫶

How would people figure out both derek and cove like you?

ft — Mr Holden, Moms, Elizabeth, Lee, Kyra! In that order!!

Derek was over for lunch with everyone and at the table it was just too obvious. They knew Cove liked you but they hadn’t really payed mind to how Derek acted until then. Cove still would have been completely oblivious to it. At home Mr. Holden would say something like “so, you have competition huh sport?” with zero context and wouldn’t further explain when coves all lost. Cliff decides not to break it to him💀Maybee if it comes up sometime he’d give cove advice like in the soirée DLC where he makes him to bring you a flower! He’d always be up to help out cove but cove would be too embarrassed to ask😭

For the moms they’d just tease you how they do with cove and they’d also just mess with Derek in the same manner. Probably not around Cove so he wouldn’t catch on😭 when they’re feeling out of pocket they’ll say something to you both like “I wonder what has him all nervous” once derek is out the room and just laugh while shushing eachother.

Elizabeth canonically knows and she doesn’t care who hears her when she says things lmfaoo

it’s not super regular she hangs out with you since she does her own thing but I feel like she’d be down to gossip about it all the time like. “ELIZABETH GUESS WHAT-” and that’s literally the only time she lets you in her room without arguing about knocking or telling you you’re being annoying 😭

Lee knows every detail she’s so invested lowkey she’d instigate just a little but nothing comes out of it because it’s Cove and Derek. You can’t leave this girl in a room with one of them because she’ll say somethingg 😓

“Hey Cove, didn’t derek ditch soccer’s practice to hang out with [MC]? It’s so unusual of him huh? To willingly SKIP a day to hang out with them..”

“Not really? I think it’s nice, he needs breaks once in a while.”

And then when Lee gets Derek alone for like 5 minutes;

“Hey Derek- do you think [MC] and Cove are cute?”

“Huh? Oh- well yeah [MC] is has the prettiest eyes and they’re so cool and funny and amazing- Coves a awesome guy too but I’m not interested like that ya know?”

“I meant cute.. like together. ”

“Oh. ”

Kyra time!! She’s the bestt

She noticed your little love triangle in that one trip to the mall while she was spying on all of you. The little drink share?? Derek blushing when you snuck up on him and Cove too freaked out to let you drink his smoothie?? She almost got caught by cove when he heard her laugh but he just wrote it off as him hearing things.

She TRIES to help Cove take you places because he drags you to the beach every other day 😭 like “Hey babyyy, you’re not hanging out with [MC] today?”

“Not today, they’re out helping Derek with his brothers today.”

“Oh alright, maybe tomorrow? I can take you two out some place? Maybe the tropical place again.”

“yeah I guess? I’ll ask them if they can later! Thanks mom.”

#cove x reader #cove holden #derek suarez #our life beginnings & always #cove holden x reader #derek suarez x reader #cliff holden #kyra preece #elizabeth last #our life x reader #our life beginnings and always #our life b&a #ourlifeb&axreader #gb patch games #ol:ba #cove x mc

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elizakai · 1 month

Note

UH OKAY DUST X REAPER AND/OR SWAPFELL X NIGHTMARE? AHEUUEHA

omfg i love you i’m jumping at the chance to look at dust x reaper i better see some art somewhere in this fandom OUGH ok

well, dust’s died like how many times now, lets just assume they’ve ENCOUNTERED one another yeah?

⬇️⬇️⬇️

reaper feels bad for him. he isn’t even allowed to actually die, just experience death over and over, only to be thrust back into this torturous cycle.

imagine dust dying in the hall, he’s stumbling away and he just. sees the grim reaper. and he’s like oh shit. well then. *gets thrown back whenever they decide to reset*

reaper visiting a lot because, well, he’s dying a lot, he’s probably gotta. imagine a scenario where they actually get to talk. but its so so brief, dust is never dead very long, and reaper probably shouldn’t interfere otherwise…

(he’d also, be witnessing the deaths of the aus other residence, which. interesting. wonder what they have to say about things. and what reapers response may be.)

(of course this is assuming they interact after death, which i think makes sense with common depictions of the reaper at least)

dust probably chalks him up to a vision he’s having, or hallucination, when he dies, but maybe when he’s given more time, they can have broken up conversations.

like hey, mid sentence he gets thrown back into the land of the living, but HEY! next time he dies, just pick up the convo like nothing happened. “Anyways as i was sayin-“

Another thing to think about is just how SIMILAR dust is to geno. and most of us are afterdeath junkies i think💀

like, dust and geno have VERY similar motivations and go to similar lengths (think of error even)

i think of reaper could come to respect genos desires and motives, he’d feel the same towards dust. reaper always strikes me as a really lonely person, and dust is too for obvious reasons.

i’m imagining a scenario where reaper is just. real bored of just watching. so he starts like following dust around so he can see him. and dusts like ah. cool. fucking phantom ass to add to the list. i’m imagining reaper telling him like no, i’m very real dude, and dust is like haha ok, lemme touch you then

…for obvious reasons he can’t let him touch him💀💥 but that would probably make dust assume he is in fact a hallucination. but that’s ok. he’s an ODDLY nice hallucination.

maybe he even reminds him of the river person🤷🏽‍♀️

anyways, reaper just having convo, dust finding he likes it, it’s pleasant chatter to listen to, and then he’s like damn i really am sick, why am i so attached to this weird ass hallucination

(i’m just idea dumping so hard i apologize.)

reaper would find his conviction kinda cute, if not slightly frustrating. like bro, out here denying my existence, wtf💔

i wonder, if reaper can touch him when”” when he’s in the space of death, temporarily.

that would be cool :,))

if reaper doesn’t show up for a while and comes back dust just, getting happier, he’s got someone to talk to again that isn’t a dead friend or relative he’s killed multiple times.

i imagine dust has seen “death” enough times that, in life, he can “see death” (reaper)

they gain this weird little affection for eachother ok💔 a selfish part of reaper hopes dust will always get reset…so he can come talk to him

but part of him is also disgusted by the hope that he’s able to just. be laid to rest. what can be done yk?

YOU COULD MAKE THIS SO ANGSTY WHERE LIKE the anomaly suddenly

stops!

and dust is actually on his way to wherever you’d go when you die

imagine, reaper just. guiding him away to whatever afterlife or lack thereof, carrying his soul away and having to let him go. no more coming back.

cries

or yk, we can imagine a scenario where dust gets out of the loop, and they continue to see eachother and have their weird little friendship (?)

dust is like “i’ve seen death, he’s over my shoulder as i walk, whispers in my ear as i lie awake at night. death awaits my presence, and i deaths. i’ve felt the touch of death, and it was unbearably sweet , a feeling i will forever long for”

*horror from whoever he’s speaking to*

meanwhile reaper is just like, telling stupid jokes in his ear and giggling over someone’s stupid outfit, gossiping about the other gods and making dust look crazy laughing at stupid shit

i wonder if reaper could potentially see dusts phantoms, it’s a fun idea. they aren’t REALLY there, but dusts magic is kind of projecting them i imagine, and reaper has seen them when they die. i just imagine him shooing them away for dust, and he’s like naw man pay attention to me instead *slutty little strut*

you could interpret the way death even works a million different ways and have a bunch of different potential even. what if dust were to die and reaper…DOESNT guide his soul away. what if he keeps him. maybe dust wants that. they could “be together”.

maybe there’s an afterlife, and reaper is able to cross the gap. who knows. lots of potential.

they both have hoodies >:3 idc if that doesn’t mean anything

i feel like reapers dark humor would almost comfort dust lmao, it kinda lightens the load for him. reaper can assure dust that their souls are…ok. they’re at peace.

reaper is just happy to feel so validated and seen all the sudden

he can help dust understand how life really works

ironic huh. the essence of death being the thing that gives you a will to live.

just imagine in a time he’s died, reaper not being able to help himself. he just comes in for a hug. and both of them need it so badly. when dust is alive, he CANT touch him.

they both think about that hug a lot <//3

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donutz · 1 month

Text

Bive x reader fluff alphabet[1/16]

A/N|| This has over 3000+ words, I think I like Bive🤔

Affection(How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

— Uhhh, I'm not sure! Oh nevermind, she's really affectionate

— And that usually applies with quality time, it can apply to physical touch(not so much giving, but loves receiving), gift giving, words of affirmation(She receives), and acts of service

— So basically, quality time is her thing receiving or not, physical touch is something she prefers to receive, doesn’t mind giving but prefers getting, she loves giving gifts and loves receiving

— I gotta make another part because that’s a lot to type out. She isn’t too good with words(verbally, she can have AMAZING poems), but LOVES receiving words of affirmation, also very much appreciates acts of service

— If you hold the door open for her, she might just blush from your kind act

— Sorry for going on a rant, but anyways she usually shows affection with quality time and physical affection(holding hands)

— Hugs are a little too intimate for her, but holding hands are just right

Best friend(How would they be as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

— It would start with you talking to her first

— “How come you're made of hair?”

— “... I… DON'T KNOW…”

— “Ah. Well I think your hair is cool.”

— “... REALLY?”

— “Yeah, you’re probably fluffy too.”

— “...”

— “Sorry, was that too much?”

— “NO. IT’S.. FINE.”

— From there on, she actually started talking to you first, usually it’s about her theories or the government

— “BANK ACCOUNTS ARE A SCAM MADE BY THE GOVERNMENT.”

— “Hm?” Basically you were asking how

— “WELL… I’M NOT FULLY SURE, BUT I KNOW THEY ARE.”

— That’s the first time she’s ever told someone she was unsure about her theories, you may just be special to her

— She’s an interesting one, but she’s a great friend.

Cuddles(Do they cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

— Hmm.. Maybe?

— Depends, she’ll cuddle if she’s sad or down, but regularly, she doesn’t cuddle too much, if you don’t ask

— She’ll hesitate the first few times you ask her to cuddle, but after the 5th or 6th time she’ll say yes

— Cuddling with her can get pretty itchy(if she hasn’t brushed her hair in a while), but let’s pretend you can’t feel that

— When she’s in her fluffy stage(aka just being fluffy), cuddling will be the best! She’s so warm too, she naturally absorbs heat so if she sits out in the sun for a while and gives you a hug, you’ll feel the warmth on her

— She prefers being the little spoon, it’s not that she likes being more submissive(not in that way), she just likes your warm(or cold, doesn’t really matter) embrace around her

— May or may not cuddle while watching something, if it’s like documents stuff, sorry, she NEEDS to sit up straight and watch it

— But horror movies or like a cartoon, she would like to cuddle at those times

Domestic(Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

— She prefers settling down, well, studying and looking at information on the internet

— Sometimes when she’s more bored, she looks at facts and info about characters

— She probably wants to be the type of person who always researches things about their favorite characters, but doesn’t because she just forgets about it

— When it comes to cooking and cleaning, she probably likes just simple food

— Did I mention she hates cleaning? No? Oh okay, CLEANING IS DISGUSTING.

— SHE HATES IT. Especially when she kind of sheds around the place, she hates sweeping it, not only does it affect her back, but also the fact she has to sweep up her OWN hair!

— She has texture problems

— Also hates cleaning with any cleansing products that has a strong smell

— Like bleach, ewwwwwww, I feel like she’d melt if she touches bleach(considering the fact she’s made of hair💀)

— PLEASE, if you are cleaning with bleach do it for her, she CAN NOT handle the stench OR the effects of it

— I kind of ignored the cooking thing, but she really can’t handle spices.. Well, the smell of it and if it drops on her or something

— If the seasoning drops on her, she might just rush to take a shower

— She doesn’t mind the spices in food! But she’s very careful with it to make sure they don’t get on her

Ending(If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

— It will probably be a bunch of stutters or a few stutters, it depends on how she feels at the moment

— “I um.. I would like to.. Separate. From each other.” She was very unsure with what you'd respond with

— Bive wasn't able to make eye contact with you, at all, or any contact for that matter

— She was just looking at the ground, hoping you were okay with what she just said

— “Oh. That's fine. I don't mind.” You said(I'm trying to give you a more chill personality, mainly because everybody's personality isn't the same. Some may cry from this and some may yell because of it)

— She looked up at you, internally happy from you accepting her, but still sad at the fact you'll both no longer be together

— “You're not mad, are you?”

— “No, I'm not mad at you or what you said. I may be sad about our separation, but it's your choice and I won't stand by it.”

— She went silent at what you said.

Fiance(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

— Wow, this section is a big switch

— Anyways, Bive wouldn't actually mind getting married

— Would be very nervous in front of a whole crowd though

— Could you… Do it for her? Because well, buying the ring is a lot of money, proposing would also be A LOT, and she is really afraid of you rejecting it, she'd never do it in front of a crowd so you don't need to worry about that

— Honestly, she wouldn't mind if you chose if she wears the dress or suit

— If she wants to feel pretty at that moment, she's wearing the dress(No, I'm not saying that only pretty people wear dresses)

— But if she wants to feel handsome, she'll wear the suit(I'm not saying only handsome people wear suits either)

— But I can picture her looking wonderful in a white dress!

Gentle(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

— VERY, at least with you

— There’ll be times where she’s unaware of how strong she can be(I’m not saying she’s like Toji buff, but I mean like when you accidentally hug someone too hard, you know what I mean?)

— So when she hugs you first(pretty rare), she is very gentle with you, as if you��re delicate as a dandelion

— “You can squeeze me a little when giving me a hug, y'know?”

— “Oh. I guess I can..”

— She wasn’t speaking in anxiety-filled caps, so you asked her if she was okay

— “WHAT? I’M FINE.”

— “Oh okay. Just askin’ Bivey”(No, I’m not stealing what Split said, I just thought the nickname would be a good idea)

— “BIVEY.”

— Emotionally, she’s trying to not seem rude or pushy. But she can’t help it.

— If you’re venting to her or something, she’s trying to not say, “JUST CHEER UP.”

— She did that one time, and you MAY have been mad at her, internally. You understand that she didn’t mean it that way and just doesn’t know how to comfort

— If you actually want to be comforted, you’ll have to tell her the ways you prefer to be consoled

— She’ll actually remember that part, and comfort you using those tactics

Hugs(Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

— Mmm….

— Uhmmmmmmm….

— Not necessarily..?

— She’s— okay with them.

— Only really if you ask or if she hugs first

— Like is an overstatement

— She’s cool only with you, and maybe Split

— SHE doesn’t do it often, but if you’re the person who’s always hugging or touching somebody, MAYBE she wouldn’t mind how touchy you are

— You’re the only person she’s okay with to touch her 24/7(NOT that way)

— Her hugs can be shaky, they’re never really still

— But most of the hugs feel gloomy, because she usually hugs you when she’s feeling sad(like I’ve said)

— But when they’re(the hugs) not gloomy, you can really tell how nervous she is

I love you(How fast do they say the L-word?)

— Just give her 5 minutes and she can spit it out

— She can’t say really it on the spot

— Too much pressure goes on, and people can’t really operate under pressure

— Especially someone like her(I’m not judging, promise)

— She hesitates sometimes, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you!

— She really does! Just verbalizing the words can get uneasy!

— “I.. I LOVE YOU.”

— “There you go, great job. I love you too Bive ;)”

— You always praise her when she can finally spit it out, maybe just motivating her to say it a little more faster the next time

— And of course, you give her a little kiss on her glasses, you can‘t really on the cheek because… Well, there isn’t really one..

Jealousy(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

— She gets really jealous, but tries to hide it

— But if you’re around Split, MAYBE she can get jealous

— She’s really cool with Split, so it’s very less likely for her to get to the middle point of jealousy

— But maybe if Split's getting too touchy(never going to happen, but let’s just make this up) Bive’s going to step in and just hold your hand or something

— Kind of like a warning, not as if Bive’s saying she’s going to beat her up, but just to say, “I’ma need you to calm down a bit”

— She doesn’t want to come off as too aggressive, trying not to ruin her friendship with Split

— But after you separate away from that person, and it’s just you and Bive, she gives you a hug, putting her head of hair(get it?) on your shoulder

— “You don’t.. Like them, do you?”

— (As a friend) “Not romantically. I like them as a friend, Bive. But I like you way more than just a friend.”

— (As a stranger) You chuckle, “No Bive. I could never, that’s just a random stranger. I’m pretty sure I’d love you more than just a stranger.”

— “... You’re pretty sure..?”

— “Oh my god—” You ended up giving her a bunch of kisses all over her face, and picked her up, spinning her around

— Like the happy couple you both are <3

Kisses(What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

— Hairy

— Uhm.. Not to be weird or anything, but I think Bive can open her teeth(Because I guess she doesn’t really have lips..) and she has a snake-like tongue

— NOT IN THAT WEIRD WAY IT’S JUST A HEADCANON!!

— But she kisses with her teeth, she doesn’t like lick you or anything(💀?)

— She actually, well probably, enjoys kissing you on the mouth! But she mainly kisses on your cheek

— Maybe even the neck, sometimes she doesn’t realize how intimate it is

— She did it one time and if you’re ticklish there, she might(or not) just take advantage of how tickly you are

— Once she realizes, she grins pretty wide, just happy she could make you smile

— She occasionally likes a kiss on the teeth(her own ‘lips’ I guess), but loves forehead and cheek kisses

— She gets all giddy

Little ones(How are they around children?)

— There’s actually another process for this to happen(even with nm[non-men]) somehow, so if you want that process to happen with her, go ahead.. I guess??

— But anyways

— Kids probably are scared of her

— They think she’s freaky

— Sorry Bive😭

Morning(How are mornings spent with them?)

— She’s always cuddled up to you, usually with her head on your chest

— She’s definitely the little spoon

— Bive can’t be the big spoon for THE LIFE of her.

— I’d like to think she’s the one who wakes up first, even if you’re a person who wakes up at 5 am, she’ll wake up even a minute before you

— She really enjoys your warmth, so sometimes it’s hard for her to get up in the morning

— Sometimes she just stares at you while you’re sleeping, not in the creepy way, but just to admire your sleeping face

Night(How are nights spent with them?)

— To answer possible questions, she takes off her glasses when sleeping, and I personally think she doesn’t really have eyes so…

— She’s kind of a black void, and you could probably reach through her face

— Anyways! She sleeps after you’ve fallen asleep

— She wants you to get as much rest as possible, she doesn’t make you go to sleep early or anything but she justs wants you to function correctly in the morning

— I don’t think she really snores, just a thought! MAYBE she purrs, even if she’s not really a cat

Open(When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

— She’d open up far into the relationship

— I’m sure there would be plenty of things she’d reveal about herself, even if I’m not aware of her lore

— She really wouldn’t want to get rid of her relationship with you, or just you in general, so she’d wait

— Maybe, just maybe, early into the relationship she’d want to say ALLL of the things she wants to

— But hey, you might just dislike her a week into the relationship, find her weird, or quickly lose interest

— She can’t just trust people that easily.

— If you were ever to say that opening up to you is just fine, she’ll ask if you’re serious

— Just wanting to make sure you were telling the truth, I mean A LOT of information is going to be dropped on you so just prepare

— “Yeah, you can drop all of the lore you want to. Or piece it by piece. I wouldn’t mind Bivey.”

— She wanted to drop everything on you, just wanting you to hear her out

— But she really didn’t want to overwhelm you or drive you away

— So she said it piece by piece

— You held her hand and told her, “It’s okay, I’ll take all the info you spill on me. I won’t find it weird, or you. You can tell me whatever you like.”

— She basically just stared at you for 30 seconds, thinking about how she really scored.

Patience(How easily angered are they?)

— There are times where she can seem angry, but isn’t, it’s just her tone

— At least it seems that way to others

— She’ll speak in caps, but not yelling or screaming

— I don’t think she’ll ever really be mad at you, if so, she’ll keep her feelings inside

— She doesn’t want to express it, she doesn’t want you sad or mad at her

— She keeps a lot of negative emotions to herself, when it comes to you

Quizzes(How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

— Her memory is bad, and she hates that about herself, she’s kinda insecure

— ‘I wish my memory wasn’t so bad.’ She would think about herself

— She tries really(I’ve noticed I said ‘really’ a lot, I’m sorry) hard to remember what details you provide her that’s about yourself

— Her memory is so bad that she puts your birthday on a calendar, just so she doesn’t forget at that time

— Like sure, you can ask her out of nowhere and she’ll say it

— But on your birthday? She relies on her calendar

— Buttttt, she’ll usually tell you the second it strikes 12! So her calendar doesn’t matter, unless she somehow forgets what day it is

Remember(What is their favorite moment in the relationship?)

— When you said you were fine with how she talks, accepting the way she is

Security(How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

— Don’t blame her for this, but she isn’t good with protecting

— But she’s good with running away, clumsily

— Anywho, she can get jealous but isn’t too protective

— She isn’t too strong, she has the average ‘human’ strength

— Based on the person, she’d say, “OKAY. We need to leave. NOW.” Because number 1, she wants you away from that person and number 2, if it’s going to get physical, she doesn’t want you hurt

— If you would protect her, she get pretty flustered by it

— Like, you’re protecting her? From someone else? Because you care about her?

— Holy moly :O

Try(How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

— She wants the date to be and look as professional as possible

— She puts a lot of effort into it, and hopes that you’ll love it

— It can look kind of messy, but you know she put many attempts into getting the date just right

— For anniversaries, she put it on her calendar, but didn’t say it the moment it striked 12!

— Because she forgot allll about it! Even the day you two got together , she forgot what an anniversary was, and just collected data

— Which led up to a specific day, and that day is what she believes both of yours’ anniversary!

— She rushed out of the house early in the morning to get you a bouquet of flowers, appreciate her effort please

— “Bive you actually did this?!!”

— And you see your bed decorated with many gifts of your favorite things while Bive stands in a corner with your favorite colored balloons

— Everyday tasks are handled by the both of you, which is always an amazing experience for her

Ugly(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

— Maybe how her tone can sound at times? She doesn't really notice it either

— But me too girly, I can’t judge🤷‍♀️

Vanity(How concerned are they with their looks?)

— Isn’t really, just wondering why she looks so strange

— Why is she made of hair?

— Just like the first question you’ve ever asked her.

— But no, she’s not insecure because of you, she just wants to find an answer to your question

Whole(Would they feel incomplete without you?)

— She’d probably feel less on edge, finally getting rid of that negative gut feeling

— I wouldn’t say she’d be happier though

— She’ll still crave your touch and your loving words

Xtra(A random headcanon for them.)

— She HAS to have anxiety, and I’m not even making fun of her

— I really think she is uneasy with things, when she’s in public, but in private(like at home), she’s more chill but still on edge

Yuck(What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

— Maybe if you make it seem like you don’t love her

— It would make her overthink, a lot

Zzz(What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

— Being the little spoonnn♡

#regretevator #regretevator x reader #bive #bive x reader #bive x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #regretevator x gn reader #fluff alphabet #bive x reader fluff alphabet

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cookieblobber · 3 months

Text

The Possible New Future of the Sonic Franchise - Thanks to fucking Sonadow

WOW! SO…THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED 💀

A few days ago it was rumored a Sonic Generations remaster was happening and will be revealed in the State of Play, which then revealed Shadow will be playable. It was really unknown what the hell this meant, but many theorized this was going to be a Bowser’s Fury/Kirby Return case: Game from an old console is remastered/ported with a whole brand new campaign that may or may not be related and possibly intertwined with said game’s story or lore.

They were correct.

Oh yea did I forget to mention BLACK FUCKING DOOM IS BACK?????

There isn’t much yet to go off of right now in terms of what’s being planned here besides this excerpt on steam

————————————————

Alright, enough showcasing, what the hell am I talking about by this game (that was just revealed) being a new future for the Sonic franchise? Well, it’s mainly due to these two things: the usage of Black Doom, and this fucking logo

A little bit of a history lesson -

Shadow the Hedgehog (2005)

….wasn’t really a well received game. Besides how many viewed it to be trying too hard to be edgy and dark and gritty, its gameplay was a lot left to be desired. Confusing and lore retconning writing, weird awkward gameplay, you probably already know by now, it was arguably where SEGA/Sonic Team got scared of doing spin-offs with other characters. The concepts and ideas were there, there were still reasons to like the game and like how Shadow improves as a character in the canonical story of the game, it was a small shiny stone in a pile of coal. Besides 06, this was the most development or focus Shadow would ever receive as a character before his massive change in writing in 2010.

Due to the 2010s change in writing style and how characters were written thanks to SEGA to avoid any association from “erm Sonic tried to be serious at one point? Cringe!”, Shadow possibly became the most controversial character of the cast, with him going from a really intriguing 3 dimensional character about trauma, loss, and trying to move on from the past, to many feeling like he’s regressed into a Furry Vegeta or a tryhard loner who doesn’t need friends to help him, the IDW comics being a big example of this. He still had a few good moments like his whole prologue in Sonic Forces, but even then it wasn’t anything intriguing like his story in Sonic 06 where he learns to accept his future might turn out shit, but he’ll always fight back with his team if things get dark (see what I did there?).

Before I continue, I would like to say - blaming Ian Flynn for how Shadow’s written in the IDW comics where he’s more brute and moody…..doesn’t seem correct, imma be real. I know he may have the occasional odd idea of the characters, but it’s very clear the way he’s written is due to certain mandates from SEGA and how characters/the world should be like. If Shadow’s whole moody brute demeanor is truly how Flynn views the character…..how does that explain how he was written in the Archie comics? aka the older comic series Flynn wrote for before SEGA started to get strict with the franchise, aka the series many believe to have had really great Shadow moments? I’m not saying there can’t be criticism for how Flynn may sometimes write characters, but in the case of him being the sole reason for how Shadow is written, that assumption made on him is a lil unfair.

Regardless, in recent times, it’s no doubt that the franchise is starting to rebuild it’s confidence again: acknowledging the old 3D games, including 06, having a more serious story with layers and depth like in Frontiers, Frontiers itself reintroducing Sonic’s friends and their struggles, making them playable once again in a 3D game (again, Shadow was cool to see in Forces but, you could only go so far with a simple reskin of Sonic). Not to mention after the update that brought back these characters, we got Sonic Superstars where the main selling point was that it was a co-op game, and Sonic Dream Team having a focus on the franchise’s more forgotten character: Cream the Rabbit (not to mention bringing back a sorta SA2-style gameplay where 6 characters were grouped into 3 styles of controls). Oh yea also prior to all that, Amy was made playable in the original Sonic genesis games via Sonic Origins.

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So, what does all that have to do with the future of the franchise, and why is Shadow 05 important here?

First off: Shadow is getting that same treatment as other friends, but possibly on an even bigger level: being a new playable character in an older title and being a big enough deal to get his own story and reintroduce people to what makes him who he is sadly no co-op gameplay but hey that would require completely changing this game from what it was initially was. This is really perfect timing as with the upcoming release of Sonic Movie 3 and Shadow being the next foe for Sonic to face off, Sonic x Shadow Generations will be a perfect title for new fans to dive into and learn more about Sonic’s history and dive further into Shadow’s history, just like what Sonic Origins was for fans who just came back from watching Sonic Movie 2.

This whole thing is also a massive implication that other characters than Sonic may start to get their own campaigns again, building more lead-ups to possibly full on spinoff games. I should say this again: Forces did try to do something with Shadow, but for the most part it was just reusing whatever the game already had to create a quick and easy 3 level prologue that…doesn’t really add all that much to the overall story (at this rate you can probably assume Forces tried to do a lot of things Sonic is now attempting to do, however due to the kinda era it came from, it didn’t have much going for it). Sonadow Generations seems like something bigger and more personal to the character involved, something that could possibly rival the OG game’s campaign.

The fact in this story, they’re going so far as to make Black Doom the main antagonist of this campaign and giving back Shadow’s tribal logo is a massive sign that this is a true attempt to revisit Shadow’s entire legacy. They could’ve easily just made his whole ordeal involve what happened in Sonic Adventure 2, after all that’s what he’s most remembered for, but going as far as to properly acknowledged a lesser known game as being part of the Sonic lore instead of dismissing it simply because it wasn’t well received, it continues to show the confidence this series has started to regain. Sure, it’s weird, it’s wacky, it’s wild, but it doesn’t make it any less something to acknowledge or at the very least make good out of something bad. While we did get hints of Shadow 05 still being part of the canon via the Eggman logs in Frontiers mentioning Black Doom, having him come back officially was still a completely wild thing to see; never in a million years would anyone have thought he would come back as the main villain.

The biggest part of this whole thing is: if SEGA is allowing for Shadow 05 to be fully acknowledged

this might mean they’re starting to pull back on their restrictions on the character.

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As I stated before, it is very clear they wanted nothing to do with this game or anything similar to it ever again, I mean the fact we never got any spin-offs after this really shows they weren’t gonna come back to other characters ever again. But now…everything’s on the table. If Black Doom is making an appearance, if Shadow’s tribal logo is back as part of his identity, what else could there be next? Will Shadow start to use guns again? Will he ride his motorcycle, and other vehicles like in 06? Hell, will motherfucking Mephiles come back again for this campaign?

Not to mention the description of the game stated that Shadow will confront painful memories, will we see Maria in HD getting shot, or the commander from Shadow 05 who was out to get him making a reappearance? This might be the first time in a whole decade since other human characters (not counting Sage since she isn’t exactly fully human) making an appearance again in the Sonic franchise. Again, we may have gotten hints of them still being a thing with the likes of Frontiers’ Eggman logs bringing up GUN and Maria, but actually showing up in-game means other humans can still make appearances in-game.

(Take this part with a massive grain of salt but I’ve heard that Ian Flynn in the past has expressed he wanted to bring back Black Doom and Mephiles, but SEGA didn’t allow it, now that one of them happened, it proves that there indeed has been less restrictions now)

If there are less restrictions being made on stuff like acknowledging Shadow’s game, what could this mean for how Shadow himself may be written now? We’ve seen how apparently well written Shadow was in Sonic Prime, could this carry over to the games and comics where he has a less frustrating depiction? I mean, the fact Ian Flynn was hired for one massive mainline game (Sonic Frontiers) and suddenly they’re doing all these lore related things for the franchise or going back to pull up any old stuff and see what they can do with it, it shows there is a level of trust between SEGA and Flynn and letting the man cook. And it makes complete sense too, he’s been a long time writer for the franchise since the Archie comics, he seems to have a great understanding of the characters.

If Shadow 05 is getting this level of acknowledgement, what about other more forgotten games? Will we one day see Sonic 06 be better acknowledged, or more likely a character like Silver having a bigger role in something related to the events of 06? I mean for some reason recent episode titles of the upcoming Knuckles show revealed one episode called “Flames of Disaster,” who’s to say they aren’t already looking into 06 for some ideas for not just the movie canon, but as well as the main canon?

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I’m drifting off a little but I’m sure you get by now what I’m tryna say. This game, as it may seem like just a simple small remaster with extra content, may end up creating something bigger for the franchise going forward. Seeing how Sonic Team is behind this remaster and not Blind Squirrel (the people who made Sonic Colors Ultimate; while possibly rushed by SEGA, they’ve also have had a questionable track record with remasters), and hints that Flynn is behind this story, I think we are in great hands with this game. This may be the first remaster to finally be flawless in every level, which I know is a little sad to say when it comes to this 30+ year old franchise, but hey, can’t win them all!

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Before I end this comically large essay, I would like to make one final note on this whole topic. As I was writing this and taking breaks last night, I came across a tweet that was kinda starting to go around about this game.

To summarize, the tweet essentially claimed that Sonic was still stuck in the past. The franchise was still relying on nostalgia pandering as its identity, and due to the contents of Generations being a whole celebration of Sonic’s history (and what unfortunately started SEGA’s cling onto Green Hill and Chemical Plant), aka alleged nostalgia pandering, it proves the franchise’s identity is still about how when Sonic used to be cool. It hasn’t attempted to evolve in the past 14 years.

You can probably guess what my thoughts on that take is after reading this whole post.

No.

I don’t think so.

As I already showed, the addition of Shadow’s story more than proves this is still stepping forward. It’s taking an old beloved game and instead of just updating graphics or performance and leaving it at that, they’re making something brand new out of it that may define future ideas for other characters that isn’t about Sonic. Not to mention this game barely attempts to be all like, “Revisit all these iconic locations from your childhood!!!” SEGA is clearly looking at Generations not as that one game they can rely on for easy nostalgia pandering, but as a successful and fun game from the last decade in its own right. I mean to the general public, it’s considered to be “one of the few good Sonic games.”

It can be argued that the addition of Shadow and Black Doom may be pandering to the audience into Shadow but…really? They’re tryna solely pander and play on the nostalgia of a small minority of players who liked a game that was considered to be the start of Sonic’s downfall in the 2000s and make that the selling point of this remaster to the general public? Where some in said general public may argue that they’re about to ruin a rare good Sonic game with stuff that they think no one ever liked??? I don’t really believe it.

Hell, speaking personally, I’ve never played Shadow 05, I don’t own a GameCube, maybe a PS2 but even then I didn’t get much games at the time. While I sorta played around with the franchises growing up, I fully got into it around when Sonic Mania came out (and even then it took me a while to finally play it). So even though I may be hyping up Black Doom’s return, I myself am not coming from any rose tinted glasses or anything, these are just observations from the many discussions I’ve seen online or videos showcasing these games. Same would go for a lot of people into that game as many while loved it, still would acknowledge where it fumbles and how it’s definitely not the definitive Sonic experience to have.

Sonic has begun to evolve, experimenting with new ideas and offering new and different ways to enjoy the franchise. As mentioned earlier, lots of shit happened in the past 4 months. While I agree that something like Frontiers relying on the same old levels for Cyberspace to be stupid, that shouldn’t undermine the actual new stuff it offers for the franchise. I feel like we’re already far beyond the franchise needing to be like “hey remember Green Hill???” as it’s main identity for a game/the franchise. And even then, this shouldn’t mean Sonic can’t look back on previous entries anymore ever again.

Many want Sonic to be like other franchises, like Mario, Kirby, etc, they’ve been also occasionally doing the look back on an old title or old past, so why not let Sonic do the same? We shouldn’t immediately respond to a callback with claims that it’s poor nostalgia pandering, as the take away imo always should’ve been that there should be a balance between original and new and looking back on what worked.

I am happy to say that regardless what this remaster is, we are in good hands again.

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also unrelated as hell but pray for this man, he has not uploaded a Sonic video in 4 months, I think SEGA killed him by over feeding him with content 😭

#Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonadow #Shadow #shadow the hedgehog #sonic x shadow generations #SEGA #Sonic exe #I’m only adding that cuz I think that’s funny #State of Play #gay #lol gayyyy #gayyyyyyyy #they’re gayyyy these two hedgehogs are gayyyy

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moonkkives · 2 years

Text

— ( THE DUTCH & THE DUTCH(ESS) )

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader, driver!reader

summary: the ups and downs of max verstappen, the dutch lion, and his equally impressive dutch teammate.

warning: lots of fluff and adorable max for your enjoyment.

word count: O.9k

them: safe with me by gryffin & audrey mika

author’s note: thinking about turning this into a series of one shots if it’s something you guys would be interested in! i think it would be really fun to write shy boy! max and his equally shy girl! teammate. plus, the red bull team orders💀 that would also be interesting

‘22 france gp: my little ferrari heart can’t take this anymore😭 charles just had it in the bag and baby carlos i’m sorry!! the ferrari strategists really need to get their shit together oh my god.

• max and you go all the way back to karting. you bumped into each other a couple of times during races, never even looking at the other’s direction for years. in fact, there are group pictures in which neither of you remember ever even knowing that the other was there.

• that is, until one faithful day max, accidentally, —according to him— bumped into your kart as you were both fighting for the first place of a race.

• sadly, i’d ended with both of you out of the race and no one placing inside the top three.

• to say you were angry as an understatement; you were absolutely fuming. and so, your little six year old body marched you towards the incompetent kid and stomped on the ground.

• “you are a cheater!”

• max was in a fine line between confusion as to who you were and anger at the fact that he had lost the medal because of you.

• “no, you don’t know how to drive!”

• that was even worse; little you hated when you were bad at something. regardless, he was the one who bumped into you, so, with red cheeks, you retaliated.

• “don’t be mean!” you whined in dutch, something you usually did when you were annoyed.

• max immediately raised a brow in suspicion, as if surveying whether you were the enemy or not. “are you dutch?” he asked in, well, dutch.

• you raised a brow back at him. “are you dutch?”

• and that was the start of your friendship.

• after that, you were attached to the hip: cheering for each others wins, immediately looking for the other person during any break during competitions, playing board games that max was clearly bad at only to make him suffer. you know, the usual.

• max has always been extremely protective of you. when you were little he would “accidentally” slam his foot in the toes of any kid that would try talking to you.

• he would also throw them a dirty look or spit out a comment similar to ‘what do you want?’ in a very shady tone.

• however the protectiveness hit a new peek when you entered formula one, especially as his new teammate in redbull.

• his eyes would always try finding yours in the crowd. during interviews after each race, he’s always caught looking over his shoulder or to the side as if to check up on you.

• if possible he always has a hold on you: his arm over your shoulders, his arms hugging you from behind and, the fan favorite, his hand in your lower back or hip.

• you both have mastered the art of deflecting any type of question that involves you romantically.

• you probably spend almost every single day together, weather on race weeks or during breaks. you even spend christmas together, both of your families making a big dinner on christmas eve.

• max knows everything about you, and doesn’t hesitate to comfort you when he feels your mood drop for whatever reason.

• even though you have your own personal assistant, max makes sure to get your coffee every single morning before work.

• he knows how particular you are on the amount of sugar you put on your coffee, so he decided to go to the coffee shop every single morning and personally get it for you.

• he gets a coffee with no sugar and then he puts the exact amount of sugar you like.

• you’re lovingly referred to by the media as ‘the dutchies’ or ‘the dutch twins’.

• the craziness of the dutch grand prix is always heightened by the fact that both red bull drivers are dutch and they’re insanely good. austria too, almost feels like an extension of their country due to the amazing support from fans.

• shit talking about people that piss them off and complaining about media schedules. all in dutch. just to annoy people around them.

• many fans on social media refer to 2O21 as the ‘great dutch era’ of f1, as max verstappen won that year's championship, in part, thanks to his teammate and friend.

• however, being in the same team meant that max was your number one rival and the one you’re constantly compared to.

• the close bond you two had made it so you never let competitiveness get in between your friendship.

• there’s the infamous ‘team orders’ scandal which really put a strain between max and you, plus you and red bull.

• truthfully, you weren’t mad at max, as he had no say on what christian horner decided to do or not do. however, in the heat of the moment, you both said really hurtful things and it would have escalated to something much worse if charles hadn’t interfered.

• and you were both dutch so, obviously, you didn’t talk to each other for a couple of weeks.

• until one turn of events had you finally make up.

• at this point, everyone is aware of the way max’ is all smiles when he’s around you. how his eyes light up when he sees you walk across the room. how he’s always eager to hug you after a race, no matter the outcome. how his tone of voice fills with love when referring to you.

• “that’s p1 max, very well done.”

• “amazing job guys— how did she do?” every single race.

• both garages have a bet going on to see who will confess first.

• gianpiero is completely sure it won’t be max whilst christian horner doesn’t see you doing it yourself.

• in other news, the paddock is simply waiting for you guys to finally get together.

• but you are simply too stubborn and shy to be the first one to admit it.

• charles, pierre and daniel are on the verge of having a mental breakdown.

• only time will tell. maybe.

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here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

look down on me like that - 9 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut, angst

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 16k 🙈

contains: explicit sexual content 👀 literally jumps immediately into it (well.... you'll see 🤭) so buckle up!!! also features: hotel drama, reader being v dumb in classic reader fashion but she gets there, a whole lotta tension and angst and misplaced anger, some new friends!!! and yes they're 3 idols see if you can figure out who 🤪, erotic bed sharing and handholding lmfao, probably the most drinking that has happened in a chapter yet (which is saying a lot honestly), of course the GRAMMY RESULTS.... oh yeah and yoongi in glasses, yoongi in a suit, yoongi playing piano, yoongi almost getting in a fight, yoongi rapping, yoongi WEARING CAT EARS (yes these are all warnings!!!!!! 😩) - ok and here are ur smut specific warnings: semi-public sex (mile high club anyone ✈️), cunnilingus, fingering, sex dreams, nipple play, dirty talk, reader has a voice kink 🥴, clit stim, unprotected sex AGAIN 💀, she squirts again don't @ me lmao, aaaaand some lovely mouth/throat fuckin 🫡

A/N: i feel like i have nothing to say that isn't just overwhelming gratitude to you all for being here 🥺 so i'll keep it short!!! sit back and get comfy bc this one's a lot, here we go y'all..... you ready?? 💜

A/N 2: as of 5/27, this chapter has been updated to remove the instances of anti-asian discrimination. i want to expressly state how sorry i am to those who were hurt or otherwise upset by the original content. please know that i mean it when i say i am fully committed to listening and doing better moving forward. 💜

an eternal thank you to @haliiimede and @monimonimoon for their help betaing!!!

read on AO3!

chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten

~*~

You don’t know how you let Yoongi talk you into this.

You honestly can’t remember, at least not right now, not with your ass perched on the edge of the sink counter and his hands making quick work to tug your sweats and underwear down and off, one ankle at a time.

The place is cleaner than any airplane bathroom you’ve ever been in, and certainly much less cramped. First class really spares no expense, you’ve learned. It’s an upgrade Yoongi made for both of you at the check-in counter unprompted, his only explanation mumbled into the rim of his iced Americano once you’d settled at a table in the fancy lounge: “Economy seats fuck my back up, and I figured if I left you behind you’d push me into LA traffic at your first opportunity.”

You might still do it, if only because he’s managed to convince you to do this again. Weren’t you supposed to be mad at him?

“I’m starting to think you have a bathroom fetish,” you murmur, not quite managing to keep your voice steady. Your fingers rake through Yoongi’s long dark hair as he situates himself properly on his knees between your legs, his hands pressing your thighs to spread you wider.

“Are you complaining?” he grunts back, and you lose the ability to form a coherent response as he leans in and traces his tongue up your folds.

You nearly bang your head on the mirror with the way your spine instinctively arches at the feeling, your hips tilting up for as much of his mouth as you can get.

“Shit,” you hiss as he starts to fuck the muscle of his tongue into your entrance, his thumb swiping up through your wetness before settling into rough circles over your clit. “Why are you so fucking good at this?”

Once he’s thoroughly tasted you, Yoongi quickly replaces his tongue with his fingers, flexing against your front wall at a brutal pace, like he’s realized you can’t take too long in here. His lips close around your clit as his tongue laps over it in thick strokes, and your hips circle hungrily, grinding on him.

“That’s it,” he pulls off just enough to gasp. “Ride my face. Wanna make you come so I can fuck this tight little pussy.” Just the rough tone of his voice is nearly enough to send you over the edge.

When his lips and tongue return to your cunt, you don’t hold back.

You fist the hand tangled in his hair, your other palm smacking flat to the counter for balance as you throw a leg over his shoulder, and you swear you can hear him laughing while you press your heel into his back to pull him even closer. His mouth is warm and wet and divine, the way he licks and sucks at your throbbing clit overwhelming. He strokes his fingers deftly into your g-spot, working up enough arousal that it’s started to run down the crux of your thighs. You roll your hips again and gasp at the way his tongue drags just right over you.

“Oh god, Yoongi,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut, too lost in it to worry about being quiet. You can feel it as he keeps his tongue laid out flat for you to use as you please. Everything in you pulls tight as you rut yourself against his face in time to the building pressure worked up in your core by his unrelenting fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

The plane dips sharply, and you lurch upright with a gasp as your eyes snap open. There’s a few more seconds of shuddering bumps, and then you seem to find clear skies again.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you sit back and try to steady your breathing, the world slowly coming into focus: the TV screen in front of you, your purse tucked into the shelf beneath it, beige privacy walls surrounding you on all sides.

Fuck. You lean forward, letting your head drop between your knees as reality sinks in. You’re not in the bathroom. You’re in your stupid first-class seat. It was a dream. A fucking airplane sex dream.

Panic carves through you like a knife as questions bubble up in your mind: What if you said something in your sleep? Did Yoongi hear you? Is he sitting on the other side of the wall with that fucking smirk on his face, endlessly smug in the knowledge that he haunts you even in your dreams?

Immediately convinced that he is, you can’t help yourself. You press your hands flat to the divider between you and just barely lift out of your seat so you can peek over it.

But Yoongi looks entirely unchanged from the last time you saw him several hours earlier: he’s got his headphones on and is slouched over his laptop, frowning down at the screen, thoroughly engrossed in work.

Just as you’re breathing a sigh of relief, he glances up, and your eyes widen.

“Can I help you?” he grunts, not even bothering to pull his headphones off. You don’t think it’s a double entendre, but you don’t want to entertain him long enough to find out.

“No,” you snap, and then you slump back down to the safety of your seat, slamming the controller on the wall until you’re fully horizontal. You tug the provided headphones over your ears, hoping they might block out your racing thoughts as you desperately try to ignore the dull ache between your legs.

~*~

Getting any more sleep proves to be an impossible task, your mind too keyed up at the possibility of another airplane bathroom dream. By the time you make it through the rest of the flight, and customs, and the car ride to your hotel, you’re nearly delirious with exhaustion, and your body is thoroughly confused about what fucking time it is, though your phone says it’s apparently the middle of the night.

Your brain feels like it’s been in a blender, your reaction time so slowed that, standing at the hotel check-in counter, it takes you several seconds to process the words leaving the front desk agent’s mouth.

She must be able to read the dumbfounded look on your face, because she repeats herself. “King bed executive suite for three nights?”

“Um, no,” you finally manage to stammer, and though he makes no discernible noise of reaction, it’s like you can feel Yoongi smirking over your shoulder. “No, we need— I booked a room with two queens.”

The agent purses her lips slightly, then shakes her head as she stares down at her computer. “Mm, I’m seeing in the system that we have you down for one king.”

Your exhaustion steamrolls over whatever professionality you might normally have while conducting a business transaction. “I don’t care what your fucking system says, it’s wrong. That’s not what I booked.” Scrolling through your phone for a few seconds, you manage to dig up the email, and you’re almost more compelled to show it to Yoongi, just to make sure he’s well aware— you did not fuck this up.

“See, two queens,” you reiterate helplessly as you extend the receipt on your phone toward the agent.

She tuts once, her eyes barely glancing over at your phone before returning to her computer screen. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like we have any availability to switch you. Given the Grammys are on Sunday, this is quite a busy weekend for us.”

You set your phone on the counter and try to keep your breathing steady, to remain calm despite the overwhelmed panic starting to rise in your chest.

“About that,” you say, doing your best to speak in an even voice. “We wanted to keep a low profile, but my… associate here is actually a nominee. For Song of the Year?” You hate that it comes out more like a question as your gaze flits to Yoongi for the briefest of seconds, then back to the front desk agent. “So, really, if there’s anything at all you could do, we would appreciate it.”

There’s a pause as she regards you for a moment, her lips pressed into a tight smile, and then she speaks again. “I really do apologize, but a mistake on your part does not constitute an emergency on ours. No matter who the accommodation is for.”

It takes a second for your jetlag-addled brain to process the words, and their direct contrast to the forced sunny expression on her face. If you were in a better state of mind you might be able to take a breath, state your case more calmly, or figure out some other alternative, but instead all you can manage is a knee jerk reaction.

Because you can’t be in a room with Min Yoongi and only one bed.

“Are you fucking kiddin—”

“Hey.”

A hand pressed to your bicep nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Despite every cell in your body urging you to lunge over the counter, you don’t fight it when Yoongi pulls you back a few paces, giving enough room for him to take your place at the counter.

“It’s fine,” he mutters over his shoulder.

It feels like your heart is beating a mile a minute, enough that you can hardly keep up with the soft apology he concedes to the agent. She hands him the room keys without another word, that same fake smile still plastered over her face. With one last nasty look over your shoulder, you follow Yoongi toward the elevators, dragging your suitcase along behind you.

Practically seething, you can barely manage to wait until the doors slide shut before you pounce.

“Look, I don’t know what you think is about to happen here, but I did not fucking book a single bed room.”

“It’s fine,” he sighs wearily, eyes fixed on the overhead number as it counts up to your floor. “I just want to sleep. Whatever that was about to turn into wasn’t worth the trouble.”

The doors slide open with a soft chime, and you storm after him down the hall to your room as he continues, pressing the key to the reader and pushing the door open. “Besides, I've stayed here before, and I know these suites have couches.” He holds the door and gestures for you to enter first, and you do.

He's not wrong: there’s a small living room area with a sofa, a desk, and a television mounted into a wall that effectively separates it from the bedroom on the other side, though there isn’t actually a door. The bathroom is immediately to your left as you step inside.

“So,” Yoongi says simply as the door shuts behind him. “I'll take the couch. All good.”

Of fucking course.

The rational part of your brain knows that he has done nothing to upset you. He's been quiet and polite on your long day of travel, and is treating you simply as if you were business acquaintances. It all makes perfect sense, given that you told him your night at his apartment couldn’t mean anything. He's done everything you’ve asked of him, really.

And yet it’s all of it: your stupid sex dream, the lingering bad taste of your encounter with the hotel agent, and the fact that Yoongi can’t seem to even fathom the idea of sharing a bed with you, not here and certainly not at his apartment. Everything has you simmering with a sudden vicious, unreasonable anger.

“Do whatever you want,” you snap as Yoongi sets his suitcase down on the floor of the living room. “I don’t give a shit.”

The rage burns like acid in your gut as you move through your night routine in the bathroom, and it’s only worsened by the knowledge that your alarm will be going off in just a few hours, and you’ll have to drag yourself through a long day of press and prep for Sunday. And that Yoongi will be there, through all of it, just like he’s on the other side of the door right now, inescapably and overwhelmingly present.

It doesn’t make sense to you how he can somehow manage to be too distant and too close at the same time. As you spit toothpaste into the sink, you wonder why the fuck you ever agreed to go on this stupid trip.

~*~

You don’t think you manage more than ten minutes of sleep the whole night. Despite exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs, you toss and turn and kick at the blankets, too frustrated by all the confusing feelings churned up inside of you to be able to slip into any kind of real rest.

When you glance at the clock for the millionth time, it’s now only thirty minutes until your alarm is due to go off. With a sigh, you decide to give up.

Your mind is already racing with the schedule for the day, and you go over it a million times in your head as you shower and dress and apply your makeup. When you emerge from the bathroom already entirely put together, Yoongi is on the couch blinking blearily at his phone, clearly having just woken up.

“The car will be here at seven,” you call over your shoulder without a second glance back at him.

He grunts his acknowledgement, and after a few moments you hear the sound of the bathroom door sliding shut again. You dig your work laptop out of your purse to double-check everything, and before you know it you’re sucked into confirming specifics and answering emails, and you completely lose track of time.

The sound of Yoongi clearing his throat snaps you back to reality, and you shut your laptop as you glance up to find him standing in the threshold of the bedroom. He’s dressed nicely for his many interviews, in a sky-blue button-down, and you have to blink twice as you take in his appearance.

“You wear glasses?”

The warm lamplight of the bedroom reflects off his lenses as he shrugs. “I don’t like to. But I forgot my contacts.”

“We can stop for some on the way to your fitting,” you answer, adding it to your mental to-do list. The reminder of your booked itinerary is enough to get you to your feet, one arm wrapped around your laptop to press it close to your chest. Trying to remember what else you need to do to get ready proves impossible as Yoongi steps closer, and then you hear him laugh softly under his breath.

“Wow, glasses? Really?”

“What?”

“You have that look on your face,” he says simply, and you can feel an embarrassed heat creep up your neck. You hate that after all this time, he can still read you like a book.

You swallow hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He continues to close the distance between you, and you take a reflexive step backward, only for your thighs to bump against the mattress behind you. “Would’ve worn these more often if I knew they’d get you all flustered.”

You attempt to argue that you’re not flustered, but the words die on your tongue with the realization of how close Yoongi is to you now. His eyes are fixed pointedly on your mouth. “I—” you try again, your voice breaking slightly. “I’m not—”

The sharp buzz of your phone vibrating on the nightstand makes both of you start, and it’s like you can think clearly again when Yoongi steps back to give you room to grab it. You thumb open the text with one hand as you shove your laptop into your purse with the other. “They’re downstairs.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything else to you until you’re in the car, crawling through Los Angeles traffic. “Remind me what all we’re doing today?”

You stare out the windshield, not wanting to meet his gaze as you recount the schedule that’s permanently seared into your brain. “You have press interviews in Studio City all morning until one. We’ll pick up lunch— and we can grab you some contacts, too— and then you have a fitting in Beverly Hills at two. After that, your boss wants us to tour the office out here and take a few meetings with the team, so that’ll be the rest of the afternoon. And then I guess whenever we’re done with that, the label execs want to take us to dinner after.”

He’s silent for long enough that you’re forced to glance over at him, wondering if he was even paying attention. There’s a small smile on his face, but it doesn’t quite read as smug. You don’t know what to make of it.

“Huh,” Yoongi finally remarks.

“What?” you snap in response, probably a little harsher than he deserves, but you haven’t had coffee yet.

“Nothing,” he says innocently. “It’s just funny, compared to when you first started.” He crosses his arms over his chest, shifting back slightly in his seat. “I remember when you couldn’t even use Outlook.”

You narrow your eyes in his direction. “I guess people change.”

“Guess so.”

The day passes in a hectic blur, and though ostensibly all of your scheduled engagements are meant to be about Yoongi, you find yourself just as busy as he is, if not moreso.

His press interviews run long because of course they do, and you’re forced to drop him at his fitting while you run out to pick up lunch and contacts— and most importantly, more coffee, which you desperately require to survive the rest of the day.

You’re admittedly thankful for the extra tasks. Even if you do feel dead on your feet, it’s still preferable to sitting around and watching Yoongi try on a suit. You can easily recall firsthand how deadly the image is, and putting off that suffering until the real thing tomorrow is perfectly fine, as far as you’re concerned.

The coffee gives you just enough of a caffeine boost to power through your afternoon meetings, reviewing branding strategies and opportunities for collaborative promotions with the label’s overseas team. Your heart sinks a little when you go through the marketing summary slides prepared by Jungkook, not a single detail out of place, and you try to shove thoughts of him to the back of your mind so you can focus on the work.

At dinner, it’s all you can do to not fall asleep over your extremely overpriced sashimi. Yoongi’s been pulled away to the far side of the table for what you can only assume are deeply boring conversations with the Los Angeles production team. Thankfully, your side is a bit more lively.

“Matthew,” the A&R rep who you’re pretty sure introduced herself as Tiffany stage-whispers. You realize she’s speaking to the tall and ridiculously built guy seated next to you when her gaze flits up to him, and then she resumes poring over the extensive drink menu. “Can we get sake bombs?”

“Why are you asking me?” Matthew responds, and you look over to see his face scrunched up in confusion.

“You’re in finance! I need you to tell me that I can get white-girl wasted on the label’s dime tonight.”

He sighs for a moment, like he’s trying to think. “I don’t… actually know if we’re allowed to reimburse that.” Tiffany’s lower lip trembles, dangerously adorable, and he exhales as if he’s been defeated. “Fuck it. I’ll cover it out of pocket if we can’t.”

“God, I love you,” she breathes, chasing the comment with a throaty laugh and quickly flagging down a server to order. “Can we please do thr— Vernon, baby, how old are you?”

The intern seated next to her blinks slowly. “Twenty four?” You’re pretty sure those are his first words of the evening.

“Huh. Your skincare’s doing wonders,” Tiffany shakes her head disbelievingly. “Four sake bombs, please?”

They arrive in an instant, and Tiffany smiles proudly to herself as she balances her shot glass on a pair of chopsticks laid across the top of her beer. You follow Matthew and Vernon’s lead as they set their drinks up to mirror hers.

“To Matthew’s wallet,” Tiffany toasts solemnly. “The only thing bigger than his tits.”

As if in hearty agreement, Matthew bangs his fist against the table so hard it makes everyone in a five foot radius flinch, and all four of your shot glasses plummet into the awaiting beers beneath them.

“Kanpai, motherfuckers!” Tiffany cackles, and you throw your drinks back in perfect sync.

The rowdiness of your corner is too loud to be ignored, and your stomach twists slightly as you set your empty glass down only to catch Yoongi staring from across the table. When your eyes meet his, he quickly lowers his gaze and adjusts his glasses, his mouth pulling into a flat line.

You turn back to your new friends as Tiffany finishes her own drink. As if she just witnessed the silent exchange, she leans toward you.

“So,” she drops her voice a little lower, “What’s it like working with Suga?”

Doing your best to keep your face neutral, you inhale deeply, wondering where to begin, or what would even be workplace-appropriate to say. The jetlag makes your mind move that much slower. “It’s—”

“Oh my god,” she immediately interrupts you. “You’re sleeping with him.”

Vernon nearly spits the last swallow of his drink back out.

“Tiffany,” Matthew interjects, sounding exhausted, like this is a regular occurrence. “Don’t fucking say that to someone you just met.”

“I mean,” you concede, your lips loosened by the warm rush of alcohol. “She’s not wrong.”

Matthews eyes widen, and he purses his lips for a long pause before he finally speaks. “Shiiiiiit, okay. Alright then.”

You sigh, slumping to rest your cheek in your hand, so exhausted that you can barely stay upright. “I don’t know if ‘sleeping with’ is the right term. It’s just a… mistake that we’ve made. A few times. Several, I guess.”

“I bet he’s even richer than Matthew,” Tiffany says, awestruck, clearly more to herself than to you.

“If it’s a mistake, why do you keep making it?” Vernon asks bluntly.

“Damn, Vernon with the deep cut,” Matthew remarks, and you shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, your words running together slightly. “I’m just trying not to think about it, at least not while we’re on this stupid work trip.”

All three of them nod like they understand, and then Tiffany leans in again. “Let me guess: there’s only one bed in the hotel room.”

“Please ignore her.” Matthew sounds as tired as you feel.

“Yes!” you exclaim, your anger from the night before temporarily reigniting. “The hotel fucked our room up, and the lady wouldn’t fix it because she was a fucking bitch—”

“Naturally,” Vernon interjects.

“And even though we only have one bed, he chose to take the couch. Like, that’s where we’re at.”

“That’s sweet,” Tiffany murmurs, and you make a face.

“Is it?”

“He’s being respectful. I bet he doesn’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable, or like… pressured. ‘Cause sleeping with somebody is a world of difference from… sleeping with them, you know?”

You roll your eyes. “Or he wants to be as far away from me as possible, even while sleeping.”

“If I was the one nominated for a Grammy, I’d make you take the couch,” Vernon scoffs around a piece of edamame.

“Right?” Matthew chimes in. “Ain’t no way I’m getting good sleep on a hotel couch. Them things are like fuckin’ cement blocks.”

A yawn escapes you before you can manage to stifle it, and you press a hand to your mouth, suddenly overwhelmed from exhaustion as well as the conversation. You scoot your chair back from the table to stand and politely excuse yourself to the restroom.

“You gotta cool it with that shit, Tiff,” you hear Matthew mutter as you depart.

Your mind swims while you traverse the long back hallways of this bougie restaurant. It’s almost laughable now, but you really never thought to give Yoongi the benefit of the doubt for sleeping on the couch— not here, and not at his apartment.

You’re still so used to expecting the worst from him that you’ve just assumed the intention is laced into his every action. Even the nice things have felt like a cause for concern, like a reason to keep your guard up, small gestures meant to distract you so he can get the upper hand, somehow. It’s hard to shake the idea that he’s your enemy, even after everything that’s happened.

And yet you can’t help wondering if Tiffany is right. Is Yoongi really just being… respectful? And if so: what does he want? And how does he feel? You’re torn between wanting to know and hoping you never find out.

A voice saying your name drags you out of your thoughts. You turn back just shy of the restroom door, unable to stop another yawn from slipping out, and you bring a hand to your mouth to hide it. Your eyes widen as your brain works on a delay to process the familiar voice, then the sky-blue shirt and the dark framed glasses. It distantly occurs to you that Yoongi has you all alone in this fancy hallway.

You blink a few times, willing the weight of sleepiness out of your eyes, then finally respond with the first thing you can think of. “I’m not fucking you in the bathroom, Yoongi.”

He blinks right back at you, clearly not expecting that. “I… wasn’t asking you to.”

“What do you want then?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I—” he sighs, and you can’t help but wonder if he suddenly regrets coming after you. “You’re tired.”

“Yes, because I barely fucking slept. And?”

You tell yourself that you’re just imagining the way his voice has softened slightly. “Dinner’s over. We don’t have to stay. They’ll get it.”

“I’m having fun,” you retort. “I made friends.”

“I saw,” he remarks, not quite able to hide his smirk.

“So please, don’t cut your boring producer conversation short on my behalf,” you continue dryly.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, to your surprise. “Yeah, it’s brutal. I’d much rather be sleeping.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Or doing sake bombs.”

The question rushes out before you can second guess if it’s a good idea to ask. “How did you sleep? On the couch?”

Yoongi shrugs, then rubs a hand at the back of his neck, making a face as if you’ve put him on the spot. “Like shit.”

You nod, your gaze dropping to the carpeted floor. “Well, I mean. Maybe it would make more sense if, uh—”

“’Scuse me—” a new voice causes your head to snap up again, and you take a step away from Yoongi as Tiffany slips between the two of you, moving quickly toward the women’s restroom.

“Sorry love, I have to break the seal!” she calls over her shoulder before the door slams shut.

The interruption is enough to make you swallow your suggestion, and Yoongi reaches into his pocket for his phone.

“I’ll call a car, because I’m tired,” he murmurs defensively. “You’re welcome to get your own later, if you want to stay out—”

“I don’t,” you say firmly. “It’s fine. Just tell me when the car’s here.” Before Yoongi can so much as respond, you shoulder the bathroom door open and fast-walk to the safety of a stall.

After breaking your own seal, you make your way out to a sink, and you’re a little taken aback to find Tiffany still there waiting for you. She’s hovering over the mirror, blotting at her forehead with a paper towel.

“I wanted to apologize if I came on too strong,” she says softly as you turn on the tap. “Matthew says my mind-reading abilities can be intimidating to people who don’t know me well.”

You can’t help but laugh. “It’s cool. You remind me of my best friend.”

“The highest honor there is,” she says with a knowing nod. When she turns to fully face you, shifting to rest her hip on the sink as you dry your hands, you have a feeling there’s more coming.

“So, can I be honest?”

“Go ahead,” you say, suddenly a little nervous.

“I know I just met both of you today, but— the way Suga was looking at you? Girl. He’s not taking the couch because he wants to.”

You smile politely at her reflection, and her eyes narrow. “I know you don’t believe me, and you don’t have to. Matthew doesn’t believe that he’s in love with me either, but we both have Leo Moons, so obviously we’re each waiting for the other person to cave first.” She shrugs, nonchalant. “Which is fine for us, but all I’m saying is, if you want something, there’s really nothing wrong with asking for it.”

The urge to shut her down is strong. It’s slightly unnerving to feel like a relative stranger is peering into your soul. “You make it sound easy,” you murmur with a dry laugh. “I don’t think bed-sharing is part of our… arrangement.”

Tiffany preens a little more in the mirror, deftly flipping her curtain of dark hair over one shoulder. “Maybe it’s not supposed to be, but trust me on this one. He won’t say no. And if he does, I owe you a sake bomb.”

A genuine smile blooms across your face, and it only widens when she holds up her pinky finger. You lock yours around it for a single shake. “Deal.”

Arm-in-arm with Tiffany, you return to your corner of the table, where she entertains you by bullying Matthew into buying another round of drinks while he groans about burning a hole in his pocket.

“If it helps,” you giggle, “I’m about to head out. So make it three instead of four.”

“Thank god,” Matthew breathes a sigh of relief. “This girl is so damn expensive.”

Tiffany pauses with a spoonful of matcha gelato— also ordered on Matthew’s dime— halfway to her mouth. “I literally have a Leo stellium, what the fuck do you expect?”

While they continue to bicker, your gaze floats down the table. You wonder if Tiffany’s mind-reading powers might be catching as your eyes land on Yoongi just in time for him to look up from his phone and meet your gaze. He nods his head once toward the entrance, and you nod back.

A shoulder bumps into yours, and you turn to see Tiffany subtly shoot you a thumbs-up. “Fighting!” she murmurs under her breath, and you laugh as you get to your feet and bid everyone goodnight.

Yoongi holds the door of the restaurant for you to exit first, then follows you into the large black car waiting for you on the curb.

The drive back to the hotel gives you just enough time to immediately talk yourself out of Tiffany’s suggestion. The thought of asking for what you want feels like a trap, like displaying weakness to the one person who could hit you hardest. Besides, what if she misread Yoongi entirely? She doesn’t know him at all, and has no idea of the way things are between you. It’s a terrible idea, you decide.

So you find yourself right where you were the night before, like a bad dream you can’t wake up from: face washed, teeth brushed, tossing and turning in a bed far too large for one person. You can feel your final thread of resistance snap clean in half as you angrily kick the blankets off, then get to your feet and storm into the living room.

Yoongi is still up, peering down at his phone screen on the couch, his glasses deposited atop the coffee table.

“You’re being stupid,” you huff, and he glances up, clearly not expecting the interruption.

“I am?”

“You’re going to the Grammys tomorrow,” you say, as if that will explain anything.

“So are you,” Yoongi counters.

“Well yeah, but nobody’s going to give a shit about me.”

“I’d argue that’s also true for me,” he murmurs dryly, then squints at you. “Sorry, why am I stupid?”

“Because you’re going to sleep terribly on this couch.”

Yoongi nods once. “Probably, yes.”

You sigh, because of course he’s going to drag this out of you. “And the bed is perfectly big enough for two people. We wouldn’t even be touching or anything. So…” Fuck, saying what you want is hard. “Can you just… stop being stupid?”

There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes, and you’re surprised when that trademark cocky smirk doesn’t spread across his face. If anything, he just seems hesitant as he slowly sits up. “You’re sure?”

You fold your arms across your chest, suddenly feeling exposed like this, standing in front of him in only your thin sleep clothes. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth just barely pulls up, so slight you could be imagining it. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

In the bedroom, you leave the lamp at the empty side of the bed switched on, then crawl back under the sheets on your side. Heat blooms in your face as you press your cheek to the cool pillowcase, purposefully facing out, then reach one arm up to turn off your own bedside lamp.

True to his word, a few minutes later you hear the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s steps across the carpet, then feel the shift of the mattress as he slips into bed on his side. He fumbles on the nightstand with what must be his glasses and his phone, and then you hear the click of the light, and the room disappears into darkness.

There’s a rustle and a sigh as he makes himself comfortable, and you were right: the two of you can easily share the bed without touching, plenty of space on the mattress between you.

Even so, having him closer is somehow… better. Comforting. You try not to dwell too much on it.

Flipping over onto your back, you stare up at the infinite black of the ceiling above you, your eyes already starting to weigh heavy. You don’t know where the question comes from, or why you ask it.

“Are you nervous?”

When he answers, Yoongi sounds half-asleep, too. “About what?”

“The Grammys?”

“Oh.” There’s a stirring sound, and then he speaks, like he’s just remembered you can’t see him shrugging. “I don’t know. A little.”

The only reply you’re capable of is a soft hum, and now you really can’t keep your eyes open. You curl up on your side again, cheek smushing into the pillow, and your consciousness whirs up one last coherent thought before you fully slip under: What else would he be nervous about?

~*~

You wake up to the warm glow of morning beneath your eyelids, and when you blink them open, the room is lit soft, dappled in sunlight that has managed to sneak between the thick hotel curtains. It’s warm in this bed too, and comfortable, and you sigh quietly to yourself as you stir a little under the covers. With a stifled yawn, you move to turn onto your back, and it’s only when you meet a gentle resistance that you realize why you’re so warm.

Yoongi must just be waking up too, because you immediately feel his body start at the realization that he pulled you close at some point during the night: an arm thrown over your waist, his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice low and rough with sleep. “Sorry.” As the mattress starts to shift behind you, you respond on pure physical instinct and close your hand around Yoongi’s wrist.

“Stay.” The word comes out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

Yoongi’s response is a soft grunt, and a bolt of panic quickens your pulse. You’re suddenly worried he might not want to stay, that he might even laugh at you for thinking you could have it like this, wrapped in his arms and waking up slowly. The furthest thing from hatred— and isn’t that what this is supposed to be?

But then his grip tightens to pull you that much closer, and he wordlessly presses his face into the crook of your neck. Your heart flutters in your chest, sweet and terrified. The heat of his breath over your skin makes you lean into him instinctively, and when your hips tilt, you can feel the unmistakable bulge of his clothed cock against your ass.

“God,” Yoongi groans. The deep gravel of his voice is enough to tighten your nipples beneath your tank top. “You make me so fucking hard. Dreamt about fucking you in this bed.”

“We woke up early,” you murmur. “So. There’s time.”

He grunts a low note in response. You can already feel the thin material of your sleep shorts growing wet between your legs as you slowly grind your hips back on him.

Yoongi’s hand slips up your body, fingertips dragging over the fabric of your top until his palm is pressed to the column of your throat. You inhale softly, your head tipping up to allow him better access. His grip just barely tightens, and when he speaks in your ear, you can hear the smile around his words. “Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me, Yoongi,” you breathe. “In this bed.”

When you repeat his words back to him, Yoongi exhales a laugh, and then you feel him press a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. Something melts open inside of you at the brush of his lips, a sudden rush of an emotion you haven’t felt in a very long time. Something you certainly never expected to feel with Min fucking Yoongi, of all people.

He releases his hold on your throat, and his hand makes short work of slipping the straps of your tank top off your shoulders, then yanking the loose fabric down to expose your tits. You shiver a little at the morning air against your bare skin.

Yoongi’s palm closes around one of your breasts, lazily massaging it, and you rut your ass back on him with a small whimper. The heat of his mouth trails more kisses up your neck, and then his deep voice is in your ear again.

“Did you sleep okay?” He pairs the question with his thumb dragging circles over the stiff bud of your nipple, earning another soft noise from you.

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond. “Better than the first night.”

He hums against the shell of your ear, the timbre of his rough voice setting every last one of your nerve endings alight. Overcome with desire, you can barely focus on his words as his hand traces along your waist to slip down the back of your shorts.

“Me too. So much better than the fucking couch.”

Two of his fingers tease over your slit, and he huffs a disbelieving laugh at how wet he finds you, how turned on you already are. When he swipes between your folds to circle at your entrance, you can hear your own slickness, chased with a soft noise of appreciation that escapes Yoongi’s mouth as he plunges both digits into your pussy. You can’t help but moan, too.

He could easily make you come just like this, but you want him too much.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, twisting slightly to reach a hand behind you. You trace down the hard muscles of his stomach, apparent even through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, until your palm drags along the thick outline of his cock straining beneath his boxer briefs. He’s so hard that he pulses under your touch, and you’re sure he must be able to feel the way your pussy flutters at the thought of this cock filling you up.

“Needy,” he purrs, his mouth against your neck.

“Shut up,” you answer automatically, not quite able to keep your voice steady with the way he’s fucking his fingers into you.

But Yoongi doesn’t torment you— you only have to give his clothed length one slow pump before his hands are pushing your shorts over your legs, like he can’t get them off fast enough. You kick them the rest of the way off while he works his boxers down, and then you arch back as his cock starts to tease your pussy lips apart.

He slips easily through your folds, painting you both in a mixture of pre-cum and arousal as he grinds himself over the whole of your slit. You bite back a moan when the head of his dick rubs up to your clit, smearing wetness there in steady strokes that make you gasp and writhe.

“Can I go raw again?” he asks so softly in your ear, and your cunt throbs as you whimper your consent.

It’s impossible to keep quiet now, not with how perfectly his cock pushes into you, stretching you open to take him. You press your face into the pillow to slightly muffle your sounds, and you can hear Yoongi groan behind you.

“Fuck,” he hisses roughly. “You’re ruining me. I may never be able to go back to condoms.”

“Yoongi,” you whine as he sheathes himself fully with a grunt of effort, giving you a few moments to adjust before he moves. “If you keep fucking talking in my ear with your morning voice like that—” your own voice breaks off mid-sentence as he drags his cock out just to fuck it back into you, and you have to take a breath before trying again. “I’m gonna come in five seconds.”

When he presses his mouth to your shoulder, you can feel the smirk on his lips. “Is that right?” The low rumble of his question buzzes through you, and your walls tighten around him in response. “You like it that much?”

You can barely remember how to form words with the way he’s started to thrust, the head of his cock sparking hot pleasure each time he rubs himself over the ridges of your front wall. “What if I do?”

Yoongi hums into the crook of your neck, purposefully drawing the sound out to make a shiver run up your spine, and you can’t help moaning. His hand slips between your thighs to nudge them apart, and you’re easily pliant for him, spreading yourself at his guidance so his fingers can find your clit.

“I’d tell you how fucking good you look like this,” he murmurs against your skin. “How well you take my cock.” You roll your hips in time with his strokes, and his free arm slips between your shoulder and the bed to wrap around your chest, giving him leverage to fuck you harder.

“Oh my god.” You nearly choke on your words as he pounds into you, unrelenting now, and your fingertips claw desperately at the pillow beneath your head.

“Pussy’s always so fucking tight, shit,” he groans. “Should’ve just done this the whole weekend. Don’t know how I even let you leave the room.”

Your feet flex helplessly against the bedsheets as Yoongi’s hand rubs a steadily building pressure into your core that threatens to overflow. His fingers move in tight circles over your clit like he knows your body well— which, you guess, he does. The thought of him keeping you here all weekend, tangled up in these sheets, fucking you senseless and making you come again and again and again is dizzying, enough to make your pussy start to pulse around his length.

“Yoongi,” you gasp. “Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”

His lips brush over your shoulder, his voice stilted by how roughly he’s fucking into you. “Yeah, come on this cock. Make a mess for me.”

The pleasure is so overwhelming you almost want to squirm away from it, but then his fingers press your clit just right to snap a final thread and send you over the edge. Your thighs shake violently as your climax rips through you, and a rush of fluid squirts out of your cunt to coat the length of his dick and soak a wet spot into the sheets.

Yoongi groans unabashedly at the sight, still fucking you through the waves of your orgasm, his thrusts slowing as if to hold off his own end while your pussy keeps shuddering around him.

You take your time coming all the way down, lost in how good it feels, and then you slump back against the pillow with a ragged sigh, your head swimming. “Holy shit.”

His throbbing-hard cock is still clenched inside your heat, and the bed shifts when he gently pulls out. Dazed, you turn over to watch him as he kneels up on the bed next to you, his knees sinking soft divots into the mattress, and starts to slowly pump himself.

And fuck. He looks so good like this: long hair mussed from sex and sleep, with a half-awake look of concentration on his face, his tongue toying at the corner of his mouth and the muscles of his arm flexing with every stroke. Watching him get himself off has only gotten hotter since you saw it the first time, and you didn’t think that was possible.

It feels like it takes all the effort you have left in your body, but you manage to sit up and turn to face him. In one assured move, you reach down to grab his wrist and pull his hand off his cock.

Yoongi whines a little at the realization of what you’re doing, and he leans back to give you full access as you settle yourself on all fours in front of him.

“Oh fuck yeah, please suck me off.”

“Please?” you laugh, pausing to glance up at him. “Who taught you manners?”

“That fucking mouth did,” he growls, and it’s punctuated with a relieved moan as you drag your tongue up his shaft. One of his hands tangles in your hair while you lick the heady taste of yourself off his cock, then breathe deep through your nose so you can swallow him down.

Yoongi’s breath comes in ragged pants as you hollow your cheeks around him and start to bob your head, letting his tip rub against the back of your throat on every pass. You feel his fingers in your hair tighten, and his hips shove up to match your strokes, like he’s already close to coming undone.

This thick cock weighs heavy and familiar on your tongue, warm like the rays of morning sun that have reached far enough into the room to wash over the bedsheets now. Drool spills out from the seal of your lips around Yoongi’s shaft, and the sound of him fucking your mouth is obscene, pornographic as it floats up to the ceiling.

“God,” Yoongi gasps. “Gonna come down your pretty fucking throat.”

And it’s funny— once, this would have made you feel powerful, in control, like the person with the upper hand. The winner. But in this moment, it occurs to you that you don’t really give a shit about winning anymore. Now his words just make you hum and suppress a smile around his cock in your mouth. When you notice the way his thighs tremble in response, you keep going, vibrating his length while you sink as far down as you can take it.

The hand in your hair releases, and then his palm just barely brushes over the bulge of his cock in your throat as if in admiration. Eyes rolling back, you let your jaw slacken and swallow hard on the stretch of him there.

“Jesus, fuck,” he groans, and then he’s coming, and the throb of him in your mouth still feels like a reward. You pull back a little to keep from gagging as he paints fat ropes of cum into the tight clutch of your throat. Sucking firmly around him through spasm after spasm, you swallow it all down greedily until you feel him going soft on your tongue.

You finally pull off with a wet pop, dazed and laughing as you roll over and collapse into a heap against the mattress, thoroughly spent.

“Okay,” Yoongi manages to say on an exhale, though you can hear he’s still short of breath, too. You glance up to see him raking a hand through his hair, looking fucked out of his mind. “I’m ready to go win a Grammy now.”

There’s just enough time for each of you to shower and get dressed before a whole team of people arrive for Yoongi: stylists, hair and makeup, and most importantly, coffee delivery. Yoongi blinks wide-eyed at you as you press the largest iced Americano you could find in downtown Los Angeles into his hands, and then you step back to let everyone get to work.

Meanwhile, you spend the next few hours in a rush of attempting to get yourself ready, all while double-checking the schedule, answering emails on the fly from your phone, and trying desperately to ignore the anxiety that’s started to hum in the pit of your stomach.

Once your hair and makeup are as decent as you can get them, you slip the black dress you packed for tonight— a rental, because buying a black tie dress was absolutely out of your price range— off the hanger and step carefully into it. Watching yourself in the mirror, you reach behind you for the zipper only to realize you can’t quite manage to pull it up past the small of your back.

Fuck. You didn’t even think about the fact that Jimin helped you zip this thing up when you tried it on initially, during a night at your place where you split two bottles of wine and he performed his own personal critique of all your dress rental options. This was the only one he’d liked.

With a nervous sigh, you head for the bathroom door, figuring that you’ll be able to subtly grab the attention of one of Yoongi’s many stylists to help.

But when you slowly slide the door open, one hand pressing the fabric of your dress in place over your chest, you realize the room has fallen quiet. As you lean across the threshold, you see why: everyone is gone.

Except for Yoongi, who glances up from where he’s sunk into the couch, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

“Where is everyone?” you snap, probably a little harsher than you need to be.

He frowns like he doesn’t understand the question. “They… left? Because they were done? I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s a big awards show tonight. Means the stylists are pretty booked today.”

Yoongi gets to his feet to cross the room, and you fumble awkwardly, trying to keep your dress up. He’s fully put together now in a well-fitted suit and tie, and with his long hair styled and subtle makeup applied to enhance his features, he looks… good. Too good. Deadly. You can’t quite manage to maintain eye contact, and find yourself staring dumbly at the floor instead.

His voice softens slightly as he steps in close to you. “What’s wrong? Does it not fit?”

“It fucking better,” you mutter. “I just… can’t reach the zipper.”

“Are you asking for my help?”

Your gaze flits up to meet his, and you’re a little surprised by his question. “There’s nobody else here,” you retort, stubborn.

When he blinks evenly back at you, like he’s waiting for something, you realize he’s not going to make this easy. Fucking hell. Another tense moment passes, and he just blinks again.

“Yes,” you finally give in with a frustrated sigh. “Will you please help me, Yoongi?”

“Turn around,” he murmurs, and you do.

His hand slides over the small of your back, and then he slowly starts to ease the zipper up. You don’t dare move a muscle until he’s done, and it’s only once he buttons the closure at the top that you breathe a serious sigh of relief. The dress fits like a glove.

You attempt to compose yourself enough to thank him, but the words get stuck in your throat when you feel the heat of his breath against your skin.

His low voice resonates in the quiet of the room as he leans in. “Was that so hard?”

You turn your head as if to argue, but then there’s a split second where you feel his lips brush over your neck, just below your ear. So slight it could’ve been an accident.

“Thanks,” you manage to choke out, and then you slip away from him to get your heels from the bedroom and try to remember how to breathe. You do your best to ignore the fact that your hands are shaking as you pull your shoes on, then pause in front of the full-length mirror on the wardrobe, giving yourself a final once-over.

As you smooth your hands down the black velvet fabric and turn to the side, you glance up to find Yoongi hovering in the threshold, watching you.

“That dress,” he remarks, sounding a little dazed. You have to fight to keep the smile off your face when he trails off, unable to say more— you didn’t think it was possible to make Min Yoongi speechless. It’s not a bad feeling.

And you do like this dress, even though you could never actually afford it. It’s simple but elegant, a sleeveless column style with a plunging neckline and a slit that reaches your mid-thigh. Nothing groundbreaking, but it sticks to your curves like water and makes you feel somewhat more like a person who belongs at a fancy awards show.

“Jimin picked it,” you respond, and you hear Yoongi exhale a laugh.

“He has good taste.”

You turn toward him as your hidden smile pulls into a smirk. “Well, I’m not dressed up for you,” you chide, and you revel in the way his face drops briefly in surprise before he’s able to conceal it. “I’m trying to meet Kendrick.”

“Is that right?”

“Uh-huh.”

You’re thankful that you purposefully padded your schedule with extra time, because you lose nearly every last minute of it stuck in the gridlock of Los Angeles traffic on the night of a huge event.

By the time you make it to the venue, you’re practically nauseous from all the stopping and starting and crawling of the car, and Yoongi looks equally bad, though you suspect his condition might be more anxiety-related.

As it turns out, the Grammys are a lot less glamorous when you’re only mildly famous, at least by American standards. The two of you are shepherded by security to another ‘lane’ of the red carpet and warned not to stop as you make your way into the building. You observe from afar while A-list celebrities pass in a blur, flashbulbs pop bright enough to blind you, and chatter is drowned out by the sound of fans screaming and the clamor of reporters trying to grab the biggest names for an interview.

“I’m so glad I’m not that fucking famous,” Yoongi scoffs, though he doesn’t quite manage to hide the nerves in his voice.

“Come on,” you murmur once you get inside, nodding toward a pop-up bar in a far corner of the lobby. “Take the edge off. And I’m gonna need alcohol if I have to sit through a fucking three-hour show.”

You down your drinks quickly, only a few minutes shy of the time by which you have to be in your seats, and you return from tossing the empties in the trash to see Yoongi eyeing a piano pushed against the far wall, clearly for show. He takes a seat, glancing around as if in fear of getting yelled at, then gently pushes up the key lid.

“Ooh, do Wine!” you tease with a laugh as you drop onto the bench beside him, but he actually does start to play, one foot pressing down on a pedal to keep the sound soft. His fingers alight over the keys, and the song he plucks out is beautiful. It’s a melody that almost feels nostalgic to you, even though you know you’ve never heard it before.

“What is this?” you ask, and he keeps playing as he responds.

“Do you know Sakamoto?”

You hum a no as you shake your head.

His eyes narrow slightly. “Remind me how you work in the music industry?”

A smile plays at your lips, and you roll your eyes. “Shut up. You know I’m a fraud.”

Yoongi doesn’t miss a note when he glances up to meet your gaze. “Are you?”

It’s only now that you realize how close he is: the two of you are basically sitting hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. For a moment, you forget about the Grammys, forget that anyone else is even in the room.

“Excuse me!” A voice snaps you out of the moment, and you scoot away from Yoongi so quickly you nearly topple off the bench. “That’s not meant to be played, and we need everyone to head to their seats, please!” Your face flushes with an embarrassed heat, and Yoongi lifts a hand apologetically as he covers the keys back up.

You stick close to his side so as not to lose him in the large crowd of people. “Bet they’ll let you play whatever piano you want once you have one of those dumb little trophies,” you mutter under your breath, and Yoongi really laughs, like he wasn’t expecting the comment.

Another thing you didn’t necessarily anticipate: the Grammys are fucking long. You knew it would be over three hours, but you realize you severely underestimated how long that time would feel. While the performances are incredible (and you have to dig your nails into the cushion of your seat to keep from squealing when you spot Lil Nas X a few rows in front of you), there’s plenty of filler between them, and it feels a lot drier when you’re physically in the room for it. Even the commercial breaks are far too short for you to have enough time to actually run to the restroom or get another drink.

You’re also starving. “I hate that they don’t serve food at these things,” you hiss to Yoongi during a break, but it’s late enough in the night now that he’s barely speaking, apart from the occasional monotone grunt.

Though you’ve been waiting for it all evening, you still don’t quite know if you’re ready when the host starts to run down the list of nominees for Song of the Year.

As he’s only credited as a writer, they don’t actually say Yoongi’s pseudonym, but pride still squeezes tight in your chest when you see “Suga” spelled out across the on-stage monitors beneath the name of the song.

They get through all the titles in what seems like less than a second, and your heart feels like it might give out as an anticipatory silence settles over the crowd. The host fumbles with getting the envelope open, and you’re so tense, you flinch hard at an unexpected brush of contact.

You glance down, and it takes a moment for your brain to process what’s happened. He’s not looking at you, hasn’t said anything, but Yoongi has nevertheless reached over to grab your hand. His long fingers lace through yours, gripping surprisingly tight, and the skin of his palm is warm and dry. It’s like your brain short-circuits for a moment as you stare stupidly at your joined hands, and he gives yours a single nervous squeeze.

“And the Grammy goes to…”

You look over at him, still dumbfounded, and then you hear them call a song that isn’t his.

Your heart sinks as you watch Yoongi blink up at the screen, his mouth pulled into a flat line. You realize belatedly you’re supposed to be clapping, but his hand is still clasped in yours. And you don’t want to pull away from him.

But then he moves first, untwining his hand from yours and bringing it up to rake through his hair with a disbelieving laugh. A little delayed, you both join in the applause as the winner makes their way to the stage. You can’t even process who it is.

You have no idea what to say to console him, so you don’t say anything at all.

Thankfully the category is one of the last of the night, so you only have to sit through a few more rounds of acceptance speeches and watching other people’s dreams come true before you can finally get to your feet. You feel like you can’t leave fast enough as you’re herded out of the stadium and into another car to depart for the afterparty.

There’s a heavy silence in the backseat that feels like a chasm between you as you crawl through Los Angeles traffic.

You realize there’s a bottle of champagne tucked into an ice bucket behind the front seat— a thoughtful touch from the label execs, you assume. Yoongi spots it at the same time you do, and he immediately reaches for it. With a grunt of effort, he pops the cork, a little bit of excess foam dribbling onto the floor of the car.

He raises his eyebrows at you, then brings the bottle right to his mouth for a long drink. Longer than long. You watch his adam’s apple jump in his throat as he swallows several times.

“Alright, chill the fuck out,” you snap after a few seconds, reaching over to grab it from him. “At least eat something first.”

“It’s my consolation prize,” Yoongi quips, but he lets you wrest the champagne from his hands without resisting. You take a thorough swig yourself, then recork the bottle and drop it back in the bucket. “Such a good little admin,” he purrs, and you try to convince yourself there isn’t a hint of venom in his words.

The car pulls to a stop at the designated hotel, and you climb out after Yoongi. Upon making it inside, the two of you peel off in different directions: him for the bar, and you to find anything that remotely resembles food. You keep glancing over at him from across the room as it fills with more and more people, nervous to take your eyes off him for too long, unsure of what he might do. Every time you find him again, it seems like he’s downing another glass of whiskey, drinking like the fucking world is ending.

Meanwhile, you’re struggling to find anything that isn’t kale, quinoa, or… whatever grain-free bread is. With a frustrated sigh, you finally decide to give up. If Yoongi wants to drink on an empty stomach until he gets alcohol poisoning, you figure that’s his fucking problem.

When you shove your way through the crowd back toward him, you find that he’s been pulled into a conversation with a bunch of older men you can only assume to be local industry reps. As you get close enough to make out their words, you quickly understand why he has such a sour look on his face.

“Song of the Year, huh? You know we can cross-reference the nominees and figure out if you’re full of shit, right?”

Yoongi grimaces politely into his drink as he throws it back, but you have no problem cutting in. “You’re actually speaking to an incredibly accomplished producer and songwriter,” you retort without thinking. “He has over 100 KOMCA credits.” You don’t miss the smirk Yoongi tries to conceal behind the rim of his glass.

“KOMCA?” Another one of them speaks up, the question paired with a harsh laugh. “Never heard of it. That anything like payola?”

“Wild that anyone can just buy their way into the industry these days.” The first man shakes his head, eyes scanning Yoongi up and down as if the tailoring of his suit tells him everything he needs to know. “Guess that’s the way the world works now. Never had to struggle a day in your life, huh?”

Your response is immediate and far too loud. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

A loud laugh ripples through all of the men, clearly more excited about evoking a reaction than the gravity of their claims. “Wow, man,” the one who spoke first chortles, clapping Yoongi hard on the shoulder. “Looks like you need to control your girl.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch Yoongi shrug off the guy’s hand to set his empty glass down on the closest table. He moves slowly, deliberately taking a long pause before correcting them. “This is actually my assistant.” His voice is laced with a deadly calm you know well.

“Assistant?” A third pipes up, acting as if he’s never heard the word before. “Huh. You know, back in my day we just called them secretaries. Or mistresses.”

Yoongi moves so fast you barely have time to process it, lunging forward and shoving the guy in the chest with enough force that he stumbles backwards into his shitty friends. “What the fuck!” one of them shouts, purposefully loud, and you can hear a ripple of shock roll through the crowd, can see heads turning to look your way in alarm.

“No, no, nope,” you immediately mutter. “This is not fucking happening.”

Yoongi is already taking another step toward the group, and you tighten a hand hard around his bicep. “We’re leaving.”

When he whips around to face you, the mixture of anger and pain reflected in his dark eyes is so overwhelming, it hits you like a truck. You try to force yourself to stay calm, because at least one of you has to be.

“Come on, Yoongi,” you say, letting your voice soften. “Fuck this place. I need some real food.” Your eyes search his, pleading. For a moment, you can’t help but wonder if you’re staring down an enemy or a friend.

But then you see the fight go out of him as he nods, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief.

Shifting the hand on his arm to press firmly to the center of his back, you guide him in front of you and wind through the packed room of people until you make your way outside again.

Fate does you one good turn by leaving an empty cab out front, and you push Yoongi into the backseat, then slide in next to him. You lean forward to greet the driver, doing your best to smile politely and act composed, like you didn’t just almost get into a fight at the Grammys afterparty.

“Can you take us to Koreatown, please?”

~*~

The cab drops you off outside a strip of bars and restaurants, lit up with neon signs in both English and Korean. To his credit, Yoongi seems more subdued as he follows you out of the car wordlessly, but you allow him a little more time to cool off in silence. You wander somewhat aimlessly, attempting to shake off your lingering anxiety in the warm evening air, until you stumble upon a food truck parked at the end of the block. Your eyes go wide at the posted signage.

“What do you think?” you ask as you turn to Yoongi, and he shrugs, like he really doesn’t care. Perfect. You’ve never had a problem a gamja hot dog couldn’t fix.

Securing one for each of you, you nod Yoongi toward a small group of tables set up at the curb to sit down. Once seated, you immediately drown your hot dog in ketchup and mustard, and you can hear him scoff before taking the bottles from you to do the same. Admittedly, you must look fairly ridiculous eating fried street food in full black tie, but you’re far too hungry to give a fuck right now.

It’s perfection from the first bite, crispy and hot, the batter studded with potato pieces and the inside loaded with cheese.

You’re also too hungry to bother making conversation at first, but after a few more bites you glance over at Yoongi, and your heart sinks all over again. You really do feel bad, and then the words are leaving your mouth before you can stop them.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur with your mouth full. “That you didn’t win.”

He makes a face as he chews. “We already agreed I wouldn’t have been happy even if I won, right? So it doesn’t really matter.”

You roll your eyes, unconvinced. “It’s okay to have feelings, you know. You’re allowed to be upset.”

Yoongi just shrugs, but he can’t quite meet your gaze. “It’s whatever.” You take another bite as he continues. “If I’m gonna win a Grammy, I want it to be for something that’s all mine anyway.”

The sentence surprises you, and you blink back at him. “You’re going to release your own stuff?”

As if he instantly regrets bringing it up, his face reddens a little, his expression twisting into an unsure grimace. “Ahh… I don’t know, probably not. People know me as a producer. I don’t know that anyone would actually listen to it.”

“I would,” you say without even really thinking, and his eyes widen. “You know,” you continue quickly, adopting a fake-serious tone. “Since I work in the music industry. Strictly business.”

A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth, and you find yourself relieved to see it. “I appreciate that.”

You’re also desperately curious, wondering if he’ll say more about his own music, but he goes quiet again. Given the night he’s had, you don’t exactly want to push it.

Taking the final bite of your hot dog and mourning the loss, you stack your skewer and paper tray on top of Yoongi’s, then get to your feet to toss them in the nearest trash can. When you return to the table, you smack your palms decisively against it.

“Come on. I think the circumstances call for some binge drinking.”

Your first stop is tucked into two seats at a neighboring dive bar, alive and roaring with enough ambient conversation that you have to speak fairly loudly to be heard over the noise. The bar in the center of the room is wrapped around a small open kitchen, where you watch the line cooks hustle to steam, grill, and fry what seems like a never-ending rush of food orders.

You and Yoongi stick to soju, pouring each other shot after shot. On the first one, he tilts his full glass toward you, and you knock yours against it.

“To losing,” he toasts, and you can’t help laughing as you tip your head back to drink. He’s smirking as he swallows his down, then pours you another. “Hey, maybe Jungkook will throw me a commiseration party when we get back.”

You grimace automatically at the name as you take the bottle from him to fill his glass up, and Yoongi doesn’t miss it. “Trouble in paradise?”

With a roll of your eyes, you determine that you need to be drunker for this. You take your shot, then instantly hold your glass out for Yoongi to pour another before he even gets to his. He obliges, and you throw it back immediately. The bottom of your glass hits the bar with a loud thud.

“I kinda… freaked out on him. Right before we left.”

Yoongi’s eyebrow lifts, questioning, as he drinks. “Any reason?” he prompts when he’s finished.

“Yes,” you answer stubbornly, tapping at the rim of your empty glass. He fills you up again, and you return the favor to finish the bottle. Yoongi motions to the bartender for another as you down your shot and steel yourself.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he offers.

“Don’t you want to hear that you were right?”

He shrugs like he can’t argue. “I mean, always.”

“Well for one, he asked if anything was going on between you and me.” You glance over to see Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly as he drinks. “I said no.”

“Uh huh.”

“And then he was like, ‘Good, I’m glad I don’t have to tell you to raise your standards.’”

Yoongi is clearly trying to keep his expression neutral, but it’s a losing battle. You can see the way his shoulders are starting to shake, and then he finally caves in, his palm smacking flat against the bar as he really laughs. “Wow,” he eventually recovers enough to huff, and you reach for the fresh soju bottle that’s been dropped off. “He really just said it.”

“Mm-hmm,” you intone, filling his glass and then handing the bottle back. Yoongi’s still chuckling a little as he pours your drink before taking his own, and you continue. “And then, I don’t know, there was some other stuff, and I was just like… oh fuck.”

“Because you realized he’s in love with you.”

You sigh dejectedly into your soju. “I’m so stupid.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, reaching for your glass once you’ve emptied it again. “You wanted to avoid an inconvenient truth. Just makes you human.”

There’s a pause as you take the bottle to pour his drink, and then his next words nearly make you choke as you throw back yours. “You should date Jungkook.”

You’re sure you must look entirely dumbfounded as you stare at him. “What?”

“What?” he retorts, like he hasn’t said anything shocking. “He’d be good for you.”

For a long moment, neither of you speak as you regard him. You finally shake your head, nudging your empty glass toward him until he gets the memo. “Don’t say shit like that,” you mutter under your breath, and you’re not sure if he hears it over the din of the bar.

“Besides,” you continue as you snatch the soju out of his hands to pour his drink, “I’ve tried dating a coworker before. It’s a bad idea.”

“Sounds like a good story.”

“It’s not, really,” you murmur, staring down at the liquid in your glass. “My last job I was a waitress.”

“Mm,” Yoongi interrupts with a hum as he takes his shot. “Waitress. I was close.”

You pour him another, mostly to keep him quiet. “Yeah yeah, you’re very fucking perceptive. Anyway, I dated another server for a couple years. He ended up cheating on me with one of the hostesses, but I was honestly kinda tired of him, so I was glad to end it.” You hear Yoongi snort a little at your fairly heartless admission. “But then I walked in on them fucking in the walk-in, and it put me in a bad mood. Long story short, I ended up throwing a drink on a customer and they had to let me go.”

“Christ,” he laughs, pausing for a moment to fully take in your words. “And now you’re a pain in my ass.”

You roll your eyes as you motion for another soju bottle. “Correct.”

“Sounds like your ex was an idiot.” You glance over to find Yoongi already looking at you. “I mean, in the walk-in is just… nasty.”

“That’s what I said!” Your mouth pulls up at the corners as you try to suppress a giggle. “I don’t think we can really judge anybody though.”

Yoongi blinks, staring blankly into the middle distance. “That conference room trash can condom still haunts me.”

With a loud laugh, you bury your face in your hands, and you can feel your cheeks burning from alcohol and embarrassment. You peer between your fingers as Yoongi sets down a fresh shot for you, and you gladly take it.

“People are stupid,” he remarks wisely. “That’s why I don’t date.” You quirk an eyebrow as he passes you the bottle.

“What, a prize like you?” you deadpan. “You just fuck people in bar bathrooms like a well-adjusted human?”

“Yeah,” he admits with a shrug. “So. Wanna check this one out?”

Your mouth drops open in disbelief, and you immediately smack him on the arm. He nearly spills his drink from laughter, and you can’t keep yourself from laughing a little, too. “I already gave it to you this morning, you freak.”

“Come on,” Yoongi’s voice is teasing, and he bumps his shoulder against yours when he leans in closer. “I had a hard night.”

Pouring him another drink is your only distraction, and you do it with the utmost focus. “This dress is a rental.”

“I can pay for it.” The heat of his breath ghosts over your collarbone as he answers. You shove the bottle hard into his chest, and he takes the cue to fill your glass again, still smirking as he pulls away.

“First,” you say, sounding more confident than you feel, especially with the way your pulse has started to quicken. Your expression is deadly serious as you turn to stare into Yoongi’s eyes and he stares right back. “You have to prove that you can keep up.”

When you swallow your shot easily to punctuate the dare, a look flashes over Yoongi’s face like he’s impressed, and then he follows your lead.

After a few more bottles, the bar is so crowded and so loud that you can hardly hear yourselves think, and you stumble out of it and into the next place you see, and then the next, and then the next. All bets are off tonight, and you’re not about to tell Yoongi that he can’t get fucking trashed considering he just lost at the fucking Grammys. You figure you’ll be able to sleep off your hangovers on the stupidly long flight home tomorrow.

With each stop, Yoongi’s mood seems to improve a little. He eventually drinks enough that his suit jacket and tie come off, and they end up draped over your shoulders, despite your loud protests that you don’t need any more responsibilities. With the sleeves of his white button-down pushed up, it gets increasingly hard to divert your attention away from his hands and the muscles in his forearms, especially as you get progressively drunker and drunker.

Yoongi’s palm brushes over the small of your back as you make your way out of the last place, his touch warm even through the velvet of your dress.

“I know it was your personal nightmare,” he murmurs, words slurring together slightly, “but I really am glad you came on this trip. I mean it,” he insists when you shoot him a look. “I would be fucking insufferable if I was alone tonight. And I definitely would’ve punched that label guy in the face.”

You exhale a laugh and nearly fall over in your heels, and Yoongi’s hand slips to your waist to keep you upright. “He deserved it.” You lean into him, not entirely for balance, and you can feel it when he shrugs.

“Sorry you didn’t get to meet Kendrick.”

The glow of the various open-late establishments and the glitter of the pavement under your feet are all beautiful, especially in your current state, and the night air is still and warm. As you approach the next building and are met with the dull thud of music, your eyes go wide.

“Oh, I just figured out how you can make it up to me.”

The noraebang is surprisingly busy given that it’s a Sunday night, but you’re still able to book a room, and you giggle your thanks as Yoongi opens his wallet to pay the hourly rate like it’s nothing. The two of you work your way through more bottles of beer and soju, and when you start up the karaoke and teasingly pick the HEIZE song he produced, you’re surprised that he actually joins you.

Yoongi must be able to read the expression on your face, because he smirks mid-song. “Let the record show that I am actually a very fun drunk.”

And he is. You sing dramatically and loudly, not caring if you hit the notes, jumping and dancing and occasionally dropping passionately to your knees before dissolving into laughter. At first you monopolize the controller, but after you force a third Kendrick song on him Yoongi gestures for it, and you begrudgingly hand it over.

Crossing the room, you kneel down to dig through the provided box of props, immediately spotting and slipping on a cat-eared headband. You glance up at the screen, eyes widening as you realize he’s searching through Epik High songs. “Do Love Love Love!”

When you look back at him, Yoongi is squinting at you, laughing a little at your new set of ears. “What the fuck do you know about Epik High?”

“What do you mean what the fuck do I know?” you snap back. “I love them! I should be asking you that question, Mr. ‘I don’t listen to music’!”

His mouth pulls into a grin, his tongue toying at the inside of his cheek. “I have a few exceptions, alright?”

Still knelt down, you flop sideways onto the floor when he selects Born Hater. “Ugh, I’m too drunk to say that many words.”

“I got this,” Yoongi reassures you, flipping his microphone coolly with one hand as he gets to his feet. You can’t help giggling dumbly from your spot on the ground as you drunkenly prop your feet on the booth and reach up to pull your high heels off.

If there’s one thing tonight has taught you, it’s that Yoongi has a really good voice, even raw and live and drunk as hell. You don’t know why it surprises you, but it does. To you, performing seems like a different world from writing and producing tracks, but he does it just as effortlessly, with no trace of the anxiety you’ve seen grip him in a crowded room. The passion in the way he growls and gasps out lyrics, even just in the way he moves, it’s all undeniable and exhilarating to watch. He raps like he has nothing left to lose, mouth pulled into a snarl, occasionally reaching up to push his sweaty hair back off his forehead.

You can only gaze up at him, awestruck, wondering how many different versions of Min Yoongi you have left to discover until you hit the bottom.

The two of you trade the controller back and forth until every bottle on the table is empty, until the words blur on the screen, until Yoongi flops over to lay down in the booth with his head hanging off the edge, clearly exhausted. “No more,” he groans. “I’m so tired. And so drunk.”

Hovering above him, you pry the controller from his grip with a smile, slipping the cat ears onto his head for an even exchange. And then you get an idea.

“Last song!” you assure him as you type, and he groans even louder when Cat & Dog starts to play.

“God, this song is terrible,” Yoongi complains, but you’re singing too loud to care about his critiques.

With a severe amount of effort, he pulls himself to a sitting position, and you kneel down in front of him, miming cat paws with your hands and wiggling your hips. “I didn’t know you were into petplay,” he deadpans, and you stick your tongue out, determined not to let him ruin your fun.

You get to your feet and turn toward the screen as the second chorus finishes, yelling over your shoulder, “This is my favorite part!”

“Feel like Cinderella naega byeonae—”

When Yoongi’s voice suddenly reverberates from the other microphone, you almost drop yours. You whip around in complete disbelief. He’s on his feet and moving towards you as he continues the rap verse, the inarguable best part, with a renewed cocky energy. And you have to admit, he’s putting Yeonjun to shame.

“What the fuck!” you practically scream, but he just keeps going.

Seized by full-body drunk laughter, you stumble forward and nearly fall over, knocking into his chest. Though Yoongi’s reflexes are a little delayed, he still manages to right you without missing a word, one arm hooking around your waist. You swallow hard as you suddenly find yourself intimately close to the broad sweep of his collarbone, exposed between the top buttons of his shirt that came undone at some point during your debaucherous evening.

Fumbling for your microphone, you make it back to reality in time for the final chorus, only to fall entirely to pieces when Yoongi starts barking at full volume to match the outro. You can’t take it, and he’s not fast enough to keep you upright, so you drop straight down to the floor on hands and knees, laughing so hard it feels like your lungs might give out.

The microphone rolls dejectedly out of your grasp as you flop over onto your back, and you scrub your hands down your face, trying desperately to catch your breath as the song fades out.

“That was the best thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” you mumble into your palms. You uncover your face to look up at Yoongi, only to find him laughing down at you, still wearing the fucking cat headband. “I thought you hated that song.”

He rolls his eyes despite his smile. “Yeah, well, it was also stuck in my head for like a week after you played it that one night.”

You sit up with a dramatic glare. “Oh, you mean the night you stole my fucking keys?”

A proud smirk flickers over his mouth. “You know, I am sorry about that. Or at least sorry I couldn’t see the look on your face when you realized.” He tosses his microphone onto the booth bench next to his abandoned suit jacket, then reaches down with both hands to pull you to your feet. It belatedly occurs to you that you might’ve left his tie at the last bar, but you’re too drunk to give it another thought.

“I hate you so much,” you say, though you can’t quite keep your expression serious. “Fuck, I should’ve taken a video. Could’ve used it for blackmail.”

Yoongi’s voice is lower when he speaks again, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close to you he is, the fact that his hands are still closed over yours. “Guess you’re the only one who’ll ever know.”

“Mmm,” you hum, swaying a little where you stand. His palms slip to your waist to keep you steady as you blink up at him, and your hands flatten against his chest, your fingertips tracing over the buttons of his shirt. “You look good in cat ears.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi murmurs, and then his mouth is on yours.

Your hands reach up to tangle in his long dark hair, knocking the headband to the floor, and with the amount of alcohol currently coursing through your system, you don’t have a single inhibition left in you. You kiss Yoongi like you can’t fucking breathe without him.

He pulls you as close as he can, until your bodies are flush all the way down, and you don’t ever want it to be any other way. You want it just like this, sucking and nibbling at his bottom lip until his tongue licks your mouth open and you groan into him. Just like this: his palms moving down to grab your ass unapologetically, your grip on his hair tightening, even your teeth knocking together with how drunk and desperate you are for each other. Just like this: two stupid, wildly flawed humans in black tie attire, making out in a Ktown noraebang at two in the morning on a Monday.

The sound of the door opening might as well be a gunshot for how loud it feels, and you just barely manage to jump apart as an employee pokes their head in.

“Hey, we’re closing in five.”

You don’t realize you’re not breathing until you hear the door click shut again, and your gasp for air quickly turns into an overwhelmed, embarrassed laugh. Yoongi groans drunkenly, running a hand through his hair, then sighs out a long exhale, like he’s trying to calm down.

“Come on,” you giggle, still close enough to tug playfully at one of his belt loops. “Let’s get out of here.”

Thankfully a cab is still easy to flag down even this late. The two of you manage to pour yourselves into the backseat and give the driver the name of the hotel. It’s not a terribly long drive, and you watch wide-eyed out the window as the sprawl of Los Angeles rushes by, painted in neon glow and the amber wash of streetlights.

Yoongi slumps against you, and he goes quiet for so long you think he might be asleep. When he finally shifts again, he presses his face into your shoulder with a noise of discomfort, and you’re suddenly worried he might be silent for a very different reason.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice low. “Don’t puke in the cab.”

“Stupid,” he responds, and you figure he must not be doing that bad if he can still talk.

You run your fingers through the soft, dark strands of his hair, admiring the texture, the way it’s nearly long enough now to graze his shoulders. “What’s stupid?”

“I’m—” he tries, but the car dips over a pothole, and he’s talking so quietly you lose the rest.

“You’re what?”

It’s quiet for a moment, save for the click of the turn signal.

“In love with you.”

His words stun you where you sit, and you have no idea what to do, say, think. You just keep twining your fingers through his hair, like you’re stuck on auto-pilot, distantly aware that every alarm bell in your inebriated brain is going off. It feels like way too much to try and process any of it right now. It feels like a trap.

“We can talk about this tomorrow,” you finally answer. Yoongi just stays slumped against you, and he doesn’t say another word.

The cab drops you off at the hotel, and it’s quiet between the two of you as you get him up to the room. You feel like you’re watching yourself from a distance, and it’s like your brain isn’t processing any of this as really happening, as if to keep you from thinking too hard about the big picture. From what it all could mean.

In the bathroom, you stand over the sink as you lend Yoongi your makeup remover and you both brush your teeth.

“Contacts,” you remind him through a mouthful of toothpaste when he spits out the last of his, and he nods sleepily.

“You don’t have to… administrate me all the time,” Yoongi slurs as he carefully slips one lens and then the other out of his eyes.

You spit out your own toothpaste, then sigh as you rinse the sink clean. “Well, you’re very drunk, and it’s my fault.”

“It was fun,” he says quietly, fumbling the case closed.

“It was,” you echo. “Really.”

The bathroom door is half-open on its sliding track, and you glance up in the mirror to see Yoongi hovering in the threshold, looking back at you as you wipe away stray traces of mascara from under your eyes. You think he’s going to leave, but then he steps in behind you again, and you feel his hand slide up the small of your back to ease the zipper of your dress open.

Something in your heart twists as you stare down at the marble counter, and you can already tell this isn’t meant to be flirtatious. That thought is confirmed when you finally look up, only to find yourself left entirely alone.

With a small sigh, you slide the bathroom door shut, then flip the switch to turn on the fan. The white noise still doesn’t feel like enough, so you run the shower as well, then grab a plastic water bottle from the counter to chug. You retreat into the far corner with your phone, scrolling until you find the name of the only person who can possibly help you right now.

“Hey babe,” Jimin answers on the third ring. “I’m at rehearsal so I really can’t chat. You good?”

“Yoongi said he loves me,” you answer immediately, and the reality of it hits you impossibly hard as soon as you say it out loud.

“Uh-oh.”

“But,” you lean back until your head knocks against the wall. “He’s drunk as shit. I— we are drunk as shit.”

There’s a pause, and you swear you hear Jimin laugh a little under his breath. “He really said it, huh?”

“Yes, Jimin,” you groan. “In love.”

“And?”

You grimace at the flippant response from your supposed best friend. “What do you mean and?! What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Well, that depends,” Jimin starts.

“On?” you snap, impatient.

“Have you realized you’re in love with him yet? ‘Cause if I have to hear you babble on about this man for another week without piecing it together, I really might lose it.”

His words actually make your stomach churn. “Jimin!”

“I—” he sounds like he’s preparing to explain himself, but then he pauses, and his voice is quieter when he speaks again. “Fuck, I’m getting yelled at. I gotta go. Call me tomorrow.”

You want to scream at him to stay, to help, that he can’t just unravel you like this and then leave you to figure it out for yourself. “Mochi, I’m on the fucking plane tomorrow—”

“I’ll come over when you get home!” Jimin interrupts. “And then you can tell me the entire story of you two finally figuring out how to be normal humans with feelings.” You scoff at his biting remark, but he’s already talking over you. “You’re smart, you got this, I love you!”

You hear him blow a dramatic kiss into the speaker, and then the line goes dead.

The world spins around you as you stare helplessly at the silent black screen of your phone, and you can’t shove it all down anymore. It’s overwhelming, all of the things that you’re feeling in this moment, so much so that you can’t even identify what you feel. It’s just a giant, tangled mess, in your brain and in your heart. The tears spill out like you’ve been holding them in for weeks, hard and fast, until you can scarcely catch your breath. You scrub at the first few that roll down your cheeks, but they continue relentlessly, and you eventually give up and just let it all pour out.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, crying on the bathroom floor. You can’t even really explain why you’re crying, except that everything inside of you feels like too much to handle.

There’s a dull ache in your head by the time you finally manage to cry yourself dry, and then you peel yourself off the floor to slip out of your dress and shut off the shower. You pull on the tank top and sleep shorts you’d grabbed earlier from the bedroom, trying to avoid your swollen face in the mirror as you turn the lights out and shut the door behind you.

Yoongi has left the lamp on your bedside on, and you immediately flip it off to plunge the room into darkness, not wanting him to see you like this. He stirs slightly when you slip under the covers, and you can feel the mattress shift as he turns over.

Like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his arm slides over your stomach to pull your body flush to his, and his lips brush at the join of your neck and shoulder. As confusing as it should be, there’s something about the weight of him pressed into you that relaxes you, even through your current haze of emotion. You allow yourself to sink back against him, to breathe deeper, though your inhales are still a little shaky.

Yoongi’s rough voice in your ear pulls you up from the edge of sleep. “Did I fuck everything up?”

You sniff softly, and your own reply is barely more than a whisper. “No, Yoongi, it’s okay. Let’s just sleep."

As you hear him settle in beside you again, you make a promise that you’ll deal with the fallout tomorrow. You’ll figure out how you really feel, and how he does, and what you want, and what the hell you’re supposed to do about it all. But tonight, you just want this: to lay here with Yoongi and pretend your entire world isn’t about to change when you wake up.

chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten

A/N: oh hiiiiii, super secret bonus author's note down here!!! just wanted to share that, now that we're officially through the grammys, that means we are down to just two more chapters left in the series!!! i held off confirming the full length of LDOMLT until we got to this point (and honestly i could've easily split this into two chapters but i am NICE and i did not give you the WORST CLIFFHANGER OF ALL TIME LMAO) - but now i'm sure. chapter 11 will be the final one. gonna do my best to get 10 and 11 up before end of year, or by very early 2023 at the latest!!! and thank u, as always, for reading 💜💜💜

#yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #look down on me like that

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