#judge pack 4

[digimontcgcatalog]

Baalmon ST14-07

[flamestar126]

One last glance at a former rival

bonus + original photo below cut

[prettybuck]

.

[suimetrait]

blessed by my paycheck ･｡･:*+

[bistaxx]

btw im gonna be out of town like all of next week to visit some friends so I probs wont be watching any streams during that time

[vivsinkpot]

Zoom In, Don’t Glaze Over: How to Describe Appearance Without Losing the Plot

You’ve met her before. The girl with “flowing ebony hair,” “emerald eyes,” and “lips like rose petals.” Or him, with “chiseled jawlines,” “stormy gray eyes,” and “shoulders like a Greek statue.”

We don’t know them.

We’ve just met their tropes.

Describing physical appearance is one of the trickiest — and most overdone — parts of character writing. It’s tempting to reach for shorthand: hair color, eye color, maybe a quick body scan. But if we want a reader to see someone — to feel the charge in the air when they enter a room — we need to stop writing mannequins and start writing people.

So let’s get granular. Here’s how to write physical appearance in a way that’s textured, meaningful, and deeply character-driven.

1. Hair: It’s About Story, Texture, and Care

Hair says a lot — not just about genetics, but about choices. Does your character tame it? Let it run wild? Is it dyed, greying, braided, buzzed, or piled on top of her head in a hurry?

Good hair description considers:

Texture (fine, coiled, wiry, limp, soft)

Context (windblown, sweat-damp, scorched by bleach)

Emotion (does she twist it when nervous? Is he ashamed of losing it?)

Flat: “Her long brown hair framed her face.”

Better: “Her ponytail was too tight, the kind that whispered of control issues and caffeine-fueled 4 a.m. library shifts.”

You don’t need to romanticise it. You need to make it feel real.

2. Eyes: Less Color, More Connection

We get it: her eyes are violet. Cool. But that doesn’t tell us much.

Instead of focusing solely on eye color, think about:

What the eyes do (do they dart, linger, harden?)

What others feel under them (seen, judged, safe?)

The surrounding features (dark circles, crow’s feet, smudged mascara)

Flat: “His piercing blue eyes locked on hers.”

Better: “His gaze was the kind that looked through you — like it had already weighed your worth and moved on.”

You’re not describing a passport photo. You’re describing what it feels like to be seen by them.

3. Facial Features: Use Contrast and Texture

Faces are not symmetrical ovals with random features. They’re full of tension, softness, age, emotion, and life.

Things to look for:

Asymmetry and character (a crooked nose, a scar)

Expression patterns (smiling without the eyes, habitual frowns)

Evidence of lifestyle (laugh lines, sun spots, stress acne)

Flat: “She had a delicate face.”

Better: “There was something unfinished about her face — as if her cheekbones hadn’t quite agreed on where to settle, and her mouth always seemed on the verge of disagreement.”

Let the face be a map of experience.

4. Bodies: Movement > Measurement

Forget dress sizes and six packs. Think about how bodies occupy space. How do they move? What are they hiding or showing? How do they wear their clothes — or how do the clothes wear them?

Ask:

What do others notice first? (a presence, a posture, a sound?)

How does their body express emotion? (do they go rigid, fold inwards, puff up?)

Flat: “He was tall and muscular.”

Better: “He had the kind of height that made ceilings nervous — but he moved like he was trying not to take up too much space.”

Describing someone’s body isn’t about cataloguing. It’s about showing how they exist in the world.

5. Let Emotion Tint the Lens

Who’s doing the describing? A lover? An enemy? A tired narrator? The emotional lens will shape what’s noticed and how it’s described.

In love: The chipped tooth becomes charming.

In rivalry: The smirk becomes smug.

In mourning: The face becomes blurred with memory.

Same person. Different lens. Different description.

6. Specificity is Your Superpower

Generic description = generic character. One well-chosen detail creates intimacy. Let us feel the scratch of their scarf, the clink of her earrings, the smudge of ink on their fingertips.

Examples:

“He had a habit of adjusting his collar when he lied — always clockwise, always twice.”

“Her nail polish was always chipped, but never accidentally.”

Make the reader feel like they’re the only one close enough to notice.

Describing appearance isn’t just about what your character looks like. It’s about what their appearance says — about how they move through the world, how others see them, and how they see themselves.

Zoom in on the details that matter. Skip the clichés. Let each description carry weight, story, and emotion. Because you’re not building paper dolls. You’re building people.

[sukeruton-san]

Sorta Maybe Blind pt 2

First Next

It has been four hours since the initial discovery of his appearance and he's come to figure out it's not just that he looks like he'll kneel over and die with a small breeze but he feels like it too. side effects just keep coming!

Apparently his eyes are extremely sensitive to the light now. he opened them fully once and it hurt like hell, even with the smog. his internal temperature has always been a little bit on the cold side but now he feels like a freezer and his rugged t-shirt and jean combo is not helping. he's a little frustrated with how much he's shaking especially on his left side

Oh he thinks he forgot to mention that his left side now has a huge lichtenberg figure on it, starting from his hand going all the way up his arm and spreading across his back and chest swirling where his heart should be it also goes all the way down his left leg into the bottom of his foot, some of it is even peeking across his neck. He thinks it's the scar that was supposed to show itself when the accident happened but it didn't.

it's here now and it constantly aches too, another aspect of the ectoplasm levels here. He thinks he's become more fatigued but his sleep schedule was already shity to begin with, 4-5 hours a week can do that to a person. same with his appetite, food was more dangerous than edible most of the time at h- Fentonworks.

He ducked into an alleyway to search through the duffle bag that was packed for him, squinting to lessen the light in his eyes. and he found a lot. Hygiene products, a new phone and modified Phantom-phone courtesy of Tucker, notebooks, files, a lot of snacks, bottled water, Med kit, wild survival kits courtesy of jazz, bunch of the Fentonworks inventions now phantom-tech that he and Tucker modified and improved together, some clothing items courtesy of Sam, and a bunch of other miscellaneous items/small bags he didn't want to look into right now except for

Oh. . .

Oh ancients the fuck Sam!?!?

Sam gave him a crossbody satchel filled with big money, and when he says big money he means probably thousands in big money!?!? taking two 50s out and shoving the satchel inside his chest he looked to see what the notebooks and files were about.

One of the files was the necessary paperwork for his new identity that Tucker and Jazz helped create together, and judging by the glowing green sticky note Clockwork helped them too, probably about the sorta maybe blind thing he got going on. The other files containing pretty much all the Fenton works blueprints and or recipes for chemical compounds like the ecto-dejecto and the cleaning spray for ectoplasm.

The notebooks were small but thick, they hold a variety of things ranging from tips and tricks, locations that may be useful, information about Gotham in general, several were blank, and others had other little things he won't get to. One notebook was dedicated to everything he has done as Phantom, his battles, achievements, and things they learned about his weird biology. some of it was clearly done by Clockwork cuz he hasn't told anybody the full story about Dan or the clones or the other fights and challenges he faced.

Did he forget to mention that besides the necessary paperwork everything was written in Braille? No? because it was.

Deciding that he was done searching through the bag for now he put on a black hoodie with blob ghost sewn on the front, took out his new phone, and put the Phantom-phone in. He turned on the blind aid in the accessibility function and turned the brightness down significantly. He pulls up Google to look for a place to rent. They all begrudgingly agreed that they won't call or text until a month has passed so suspicions won't be as tight on them. Finding something close and cheap and pulling up the directions to speak audibly he goes on his merry way.

Hopefully the owner will be nice enough to him even though he's barely 16 trying to rent an apartment.

--------------- *Hour and a half later*------------------

The building fucking abandoned

No like the top half of it looked like it exploded years ago and Google still says it's for rent!?!?

Why!?

You know what fuck it! he's already made his way over here and it geting dark fast. he'll find a decent corner in there to sleep tonight.

Squeezing his his way through a hole that was supposed to be a door, tripping, and landing face first on the broken disgusting floor below him.

_______________________________________________

Batman and Robin were investigating a weapons deal that was happening later tonight in an abandoned apartment complex, half the building gone from an explosion courtesy of Two Face. 30 minutes before the deal they were doing a quick sweep of the two floors that remain when

*Smack*

Someone face planted 5 ft away from them.

"Ow " they rub their face for a minute before sitting up and

" That's a blind child " Robin was slightly bewildered by the black haired, blind and before closing his eyes he was able to make out the dull icey blue color. He was ill looking 13-14 in age.

A blind boy that was deathly pale, warringly skinny and most importantly alone.

He points in the vague direction of Robin before stating "I'll have you know I'm almost 16 and you don't sound much older than I do" he feels across the ground searching for the phone that was a few inches away from his reach.

Batman grabs the phone off the floor before standing the boy up himself and handing it to him. " The apartment building you have been following is out of service "

" Oh, why is it still operational on Google?"

" Tch, It seems someone has failed to inform the online networks of this buildings status, which is a incompetence on their part" Robin walked up to be beside the boy.

" what's more important is why you were looking for an apartment building in the first place. You're alone as well, when someone should be there with you when you cannot see or you should at least have a cain. It is also heading to a time of night where you should not be walking outside."

" What is this an interrogation, why should I be telling you what I am doing, who even are you." The boy crosses his arms backing away slightly

" We are Batman and Robin and we are only concerned of your safety" the big bat himself States in a softer than usual for his Batman growl.

Robin looks over at him giving him a look before signing ' are you serious ' then folded his arms. Batman ignores him.

Multiple footsteps could be heard across the floor, Batman grabs a hold of the child before grappling up and away from sight. Robin does the same in a different direction.

_______________________________________________

Holy SHIT

Fenton luck strikes again because he just walked in on The Batman and fucking Robin on an investigation and he interrupted. Being held in Batman's arms he realizes that either he's tiny or Batman's huge because he's at least three times his size.

This is turning out to be one of the more fucked up situations he has ever been in. Let's hope he won't fuck up the situation even more then he already has.

(sorry for the cliffhanger I need to rest my brain a bit with writing, but here is what I've written Hope you enjoy also I saw the reblog from @athyriaceae and took it into consideration thank you for rebloging)

[see-arcane]

Welcome to Dracula Season 2025!

We're only a few weeks shy of May and our journey with Jonathan into the Carpathians. As we prepare for another helping of paprika hendl and ensuing horror, let's refresh with some of the Dracula-adjacent goodies that have accumulated over the last year...

1. Dracula Daily

The Substack that started it all. Dracula Daily was started by Matt Kirkland in 2021, though it took off in the Tumblr book club in 2022. Since then, we’ve turned Dracula Season, the period between May 3 and November 7, into a months-long undead extravaganza of memes, literary analysis, and overdue love for Bram Stoker’s novel, Dracula as the fantastic gothic gift it is. With the simplified format of putting the book’s entries in chronological order, each one emailed out on the same date they were written, we’re forced to live on the same calendar and waiting game as the characters. Whether you’re a new reader or a returning bookworm, welcome to Castle Dracula!

Dracula Daily Substack: Link

2. The Holmwood Foundation

Fresh from crowdfunding and wrapping up production of its first season, The Holmwood Foundation, @theholmwoodfoundation on Tumblr, is an indie podcast coming around the corner with a genuinely unique take on a supernatural sequel to the events of Dracula…which didn’t end quite how Bram Stoker’s in-universe novel depicted. The first episode is out, featuring a pair of unlucky archivists—what horror podcast is complete without them?—the ghosts of Jonathan and Mina Harker, Dracula’s severed head, and a hiking trip across the moors to escape some shambling undead horrors. Give the preview and its miscellaneous teasers a listen if you want a taste of contemporary revenant scares (and to listen to the world’s most irate descendant of the Harkers pop a blood vessel).

The Holmwood Foundation homepage: Link

Podcast episodes and side content: Link

3. Dracula: 2004

Another indie audio drama trying to crowdfund its way out of the coffin! Not only an adaptation of Dracula, but one set just a short step into the 21st century, @starstrider-productions' Dracula: 2004 wants to tell the story of our beloved Victorian vampire targets-turned-slayers in an era of flip phones, Dictaphones, and found footage-tinted horror. To judge by the summary and extremely promising character bios for our refreshed cast, it’s going to be a one-of-a-kind listen. But only if we can get them to their goal! By the time I post this, they’ll have less than 20 days left to cover the production cost.

If you want to drag this beautiful undead carcass into the moonlight, please chip into their campaign if you can and share it with your fellow Dracula lovers and horror podcast enthusiasts! The smallest tier is £10 GBP, ($13 for my fellow ‘murricans), and every bit helps.  

Indiegogo crowdfunding page: Link

4. Re: Dracula, Re: Carmilla, (Coming Soon: Re: Frankenstein!)

Giving an undead rebirth to the original Dracula Daily format, the podcast Re: Dracula turns the same chronological date-by-date read of the novel an audio drama twist. It’s made of professional voice acting, soundscaping, and has its own soundtrack! This thing is also replete with many a meme and interview as the garlic garnish on top. Give it a listen if you haven’t already and check out their Tumblr, @re-dracula.

Likewise, you need to check out their most recent projects. Re: Carmilla, which gives Sheridan le Fanu’s Carmilla its own supple and sinuous sapphic treatment, and the upcoming Re: Frankenstein, currently on the hunt for voice actors to fill the roles of Mary Shelley’s gothic opus, Frankenstein. Everyone say thank you to this cast and crew for feeding us the overdue classic supernatural theatre feast we’ve been waiting on for actual centuries.

Re: Dracula: Link

Re: Carmilla: Link

Re: Frankenstein (Casting Call!): Link

5. The League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk

You want the Drac Attack Pack (plus a surviving Quincey Morris) with the Harkers happily married and questionably human? You want Irene Norton née Adler treated with respect and allowed to actually have her chosen romance with Godfrey Norton that was half the damn point of “A Scandal in Bohemia,” along with appearances from a certain consulting detective and his doctorial companion? You want Dr. Jekyll as an upstanding scientist on the brink of some unsavory new changes? You want Wells’ Invisible Man being cantankerous and developing friendships against his will? You want sundry forces of mortal and supernatural peril roiling up from under the foundations of Victorian era literature like an eerie eldritch smoke? Then The League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk is the comic for you!

An ongoing webcomic, fresh from its second story arc—a certain submarine, a bastard of a marksman, and an uncanny gothic villainess are involved—LXGF brings together a huge crossover cast of everyone’s favorite characters from the Classics section. Started by the amazing @mayhemchicken and posted on @lxgentlefolkcomic, this series is a love letter to beloved Victorian era lit that actually understands, acknowledges, and loves the books and their canons! What a concept! Alan.

Tumblr: Link

Comic: Link

Non-Canon Silliness: Link

Fanfiction: Link

6. Blood of My Blood (and Other Gorgeous Gothic Dramas of the Ibrithir-Was-Here Universe)

 I’ve made a lot of amazing friends since Dracula Season became my favorite time of the year (read: most of it). Many of those friends have been brain-meltingly talented and creative in the works they’ve made based in or inspired by Dracula and adjacent works. But one of the best in terms of artful storytelling has to be @ibrithir-was-here.

Me and other scribblers and spit-ballers tripped and fell into what began as a dark Dracula Bad Ending improv, everyone chasing after each other with ‘Yes, and—,’ additions to a vampiric domestic horror story. That’s turned into a full 100+ chapter tale with its concluding climax just now about to hit its zenith. That story is Blood of My Blood, an incredibly fun and fiendish gothic what-if? One in which we answer the questions:

What if things took a grim turn in the climax at Transylvania? What if half our heroes died and Mina turned, with a child already growing in her undead womb? What if Jonathan threw himself on the twisted ‘mercy’ of Dracula to protect his family, trading his servitude, sanity, blood, and participation in an intimately worrying series of mind games with his new master? What if young Quincey Harker was raised in this warped castle and then, at the cusp of manhood, was sent out into the world to learn the buried truths of his family? What if Dracula was none too thrilled about his adopted heir leaving the nest, and took grisly measures to bring him back..?

The answers have been written and lushly illustrated for the past year and change, ripe with romances, revenges, bloodshed, and one of the most gloriously fucked up family dynamics you’ve ever seen in a gothic drama.

…And if you’re in the mood for another flavor of the latter, Ibrithir has also cooked up a pile of sinister samples to indulge in.

(n)Ever Loved, a take on the origins of the ‘Weird Sisters’ before they were munching kids meals.

The Wretched Family, an AU in which Frankenstein’s Creature saved the little girl from the river a moment too late, and coerces Victor into reviving her drowned body as a Creature like himself.

A Cruel Love, giving a spotlight to a possible history of Countess Mircalla and how love played a part in her undeath and the demise of her first smitten paramour.

Second Stanza, a certain Opera Ghost returns to haunt Christine and Raoul’s son, supposedly as a guardian—whether the boy likes it or not.

Rosemary is for Remembrance, in which a young artist grapples with the bloody shadow of a man who shares her face. A long dead hedonist by the name of Dorian Gray…

Go give them all a read!

Blood of My Blood: Link

(n)Ever Loved: Link

The Wretched Family: Link 1, Link 2

A Cruel Love: Link 1, Link 2

Second Stanza: Link

Rosemary is for Remembrance: Link

7. Dracula’s Guest the Comic

Want a glimpse of what Jonathan Harker may have gotten up to prior to reaching Castle Dracula? Well, take a look at the comic adaptation of Stoker’s, “Dracula Guest,” by @isablooo! It features our good friend Mr. Harker, some sightseeing, and more than the usual bloodsuckers out for his neck.

Comic: Link

8. Dracula Beyond Stoker Press

Have you ever thought to yourself, “I wish I had an anthology dedicated entirely to stories about one or more specific characters of Dracula?” Me too! And Dracula Beyond Stoker Press is here to deliver. Their most recent issue coming out is about our good friend Jonathan Harker—already preordered my copy!—with Mina Harker’s issue accepting story and cover art submissions starting May 1, 2025. DBS Press already has an amazing store full of paperback zines and merch to go through for other characters and general Dracula-flavored goodies. Go give them and the submission guidelines a gander.   

Dracula Beyond Stoker Press: Link

9. Harker (and Other Arcane Horrors)

Harker is my work-in-progress, a novel expanding on the experiences of Jonathan Harker which we never get to see between his and the others’ journal entries in Dracula. It also adds some creative and menacing fleshing out for just how and why Jonathan Harker changed on October 3rd—and perhaps explains what exactly he changed into.

As of now, I am well over twenty chapters in, with over 750 pages written. In the draft, Mina is only just now about to read Jonathan’s journal for the first time. This thing is massive. And I’ve been releasing preview chapters since last Dracula Season! The latest of which is due to drop very soon.

Until then, there’s also an abundance of other horrors I’ve scribbled up in the interim. Some serial, some self-contained, and one in the form of a published novella, The Vampyres, which concerns some undead bastards of classic lit caught under the blade of a very practiced psychopomp. There are a couple preview chapters up to skim too!

Hope you enjoy the read.

Harker (Tumblr): Link

Harker (Substack): Link

Substack (General): Link

The Vampyres: eBook Paperback

[REDACTED – Surprise en route April 18th]

10. What Manner of Man (and Another Gothic Queer Nightmare)

@stjohnstarling has completed one tale of queer horror, romance, and erotica, and is hard at work on the next story. The first was What Manner of Man, a novel with some borrowed blood from Dracula and a wonderful twist on an intense relationship that forms between a priest and a vampire. This book is now completed on the Substack and as an eBook! His next work in progress: A Companion in Vice, building off the patchwork anatomy of Frankenstein.

What Manner of Man (Substack): Link

What Manner of Man (eBook): Link

A Companion in Vice (Summary): Link

11. Project Gutenberg

An online library of countless classic public domain works. Get on it, bookworms!

Dracula - Link

Carmilla - Link

Sheridan le Fanu collection - Link

12. The Internet Archive

As the name says, it’s an archive. It preserves damn near everything, including my favorite ballet…

Dracula Ballet by Michael Pink – Link

13. Romancing the Gothic - My Wild Heart Bleeds

Carmilla fans, storytellers, and scholars, this one is for you. My Wild Heart Bleeds is set to be an anthology dedicated entirely to Sheridan le Fanu’s Carmilla, including commentaries, original works, international and historic perspectives, discussions of adaptations and works inspired by the story… And you have the chance to contribute to it! Regarding submissions, the page says:

Abstracts of 3-400 words and a bio of 2-250 words should be sent to the editors Dr. Sam Hirst and Simon Bacon by June 30th 2025. Chapter of between 5-6000 words will be required by July 2026. We also welcome original creative pieces (artwork, short stories [up to 1,500 words], flash-fiction, poetry, etc) that are inspired by and/or critically engage with ‘Carmilla’ or themes mentioned above. Abstracts or queries should be set to: mywildheartbleeds@gmail.com

My Wild Heart Bleeds: Link

BONUS

@cry-ptidd – Blessed us with getting to see the Dracula cast in Hellsing style and showing us why Kohta Hirano didn’t dare to have them in the manga: The Harkers are simply too badass when canonical. (And the Suitors would be too stylish.)

@bluecatwriter – Expanding from Dracula fic to Carmilla fic. Smut abounds.

Poetry – For bonus gothic vampire reference material:

“Lenore” by Gottfried August Bürger, translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti: Link

“Christabel” by Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Link

Libby the Library App (Sign Up! Support Your Libraries!) - Link

Dracula Season 2024

All the Dracula Season goodies compiled last year: Link

[fgumi]

‧.₊˚ ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ my youth is free

੭ˊᵕˋ੭ synopsis: you broke up with your long-term boyfriend, donghyun, after 5 years. it was amicable and there were no hard feelings; you were just growing in two separate directions in life. despite the nice break-up, you found yourself sad and in need of a pick-me-up. so, you decided to pick up your old love, volleyball. you tag along with your younger brother, woonhak, and check it out. the scene is packed with many good volleyball players like han dongmin.

੭ˊᵕˋ੭ pairing(s): volleyball player!taesan x woonhak's sister!reader, ex!leehan x woonhak's sister!reader ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ genre(s): smau, college life, romance ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ status: ongoing; updating sporadically! ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ a/n: welcome! i'm officially starting this on 250101! laugh, cry, scream, enjoy! pls lmk if you want to be removed from the taglist! ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ taglist: second taglist open! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

‧.₊˚ ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ current tags: @en-dream @heeheesang @prettyange1 @bee-the-loser @httpenhoon @r1kification @tkooooop @viller2 @veerooniicaa @lynnimini @peanutbutterjam505 @molensworld @tsukimiday0 @kazemiya @jvngw0nlvr @swanyvess @taylorluvation @kamfaye @anyaunyu @miujunhui @21corydoras @tsanho @miyawwn @dylanobr1ens @ellezra @prettiann @noodlesfeet @ribbioniki @petralovesbonedo @imnotsureokay @soupersaldz @hyukarina @cherrytaesan @yuzuksi @haechology @shenrickyistheloml @pinklemonade34 @heizqo @pinkiwinkiminki @sitdlstarllala @enzstr @wonuziex @defnotsanni @exselily @sirenla @seungheartyou @pumpkg @vveebee @cl4ir0l0v3r @angelzforu (50/50) + second taglist (28/50)

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ twitter profiles

〘 0. prologue; 1. cutie patootie; 2. baby come back; 3. twisty kind; 4. shakespearean; 5. pp is small; 6. still standing here; 7. recovery; 8. bad idea; 9. off the street; 10. stupid, not blind; 11. mystical beast; 12. we listen and we don't judge; 13. just who are you?; 13. holy moly cheesy ravioli; 14. to a fresh start; 15. the prettiest one around; 16. connection; 17. itys; 18. twin flamingo; 19. in every universe; 20. interesting...; 21. shiesty; 22. crimson; 23. pretty girl; more chapters tba 〙

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idols. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!

[tarotbyjam24]

Pick a card : your 1st meeting with your future spouse

this reading is a Collab w one and only @intutive-peechu 🦕

Masterlist \pick a piles feedbacks

pile 1 pile 2 pile 3 pile 4

Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄�� Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

Disclaimer: this is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so 🕊️

I also offer paid readings you can book one as it'll help me a lot and don't forget to check the free readings offer ✨

Pile एक

read by @tarotbyjam24

Hi pile 1 , excited to meet them already? Your 1st meeting is gonna happen when some of your relationships fall apart and you decide to walk away from them in hope of having new good connections for you . When you and your fs you both may want to create something like you guys meet each other through some project collabs. You both initially won't be talking to each other than about work because you may feel somewhat closed off because of your past relationships doesn't specifically have to be with your lovers it can be with anyone. But you both were meant to meet each other because universe have already created a path for you which you both will be walking down together. I can already see a vision of you and your spouse walking down the aisle together which will feel like a path to heaven . You both may share few drinks on your first meet after getting your works done. Your 1st meeting can happen in winters but you'll be wearing your summer clothes hahaa and they'll be all packed with the clothes. You both will be secretly taking glances of each other and trying to hide your smile by looking away . Even tho you both won't be opening upto each other that much but you both will be receptive with eachother you both will be willing to accept each other as you both giving . It's giving we listen and we don't judge hahaa. You both will try to be open minded at your 1st meet. You both may think that you both aren't capable but you both will lowkey want be with eachother and already could have imagined few marriage scenarios. You both will want to to keep each other in your future plans. After few dates you both will open your chained mouths and start telling each other how both of you feel about each other . Initially you both will only want to try out worldy things but nothing too deep like going out t,trying things together. You both giving introverts at first but after few days we turn into extrovert. But trust me it'll proceed into something more amazing . Thank you for reading 😊

get your personalised readings

Pile दो

read by @intutive-peechu 🫟

So when I first time try to channel your pile I got nothing but darkness, and when I was writing this in my textbook my pen died in middle so I think the time when you meet your fs you guys will be going through some problem not a huge one no I'm not getting it but can be work related which make you tensed. So I think meeting with your fs will be unexpected for you , I saw guys you will meet your spouse in a party 🎉 your fs will be someone on higher position I heard " boss " so they can be actually a boss . Some of you in this pile might work in related to media , news , article, journalism etc. They will be someone known in their work or will be famous between people related to their career. People does respect them a lot I saw a scenario where a man come to attend a party and the time he come down from his car camera light started to flash, and then his eyes meet with someone for brief second before he entered inside ( that someone is probably you ) anddd.....( no his not a celebrity the time I write all this down this msg come soo soon that write this down it's imp ) so no guys they are not celebrity!! Your partner will have an attitude in them , positive negative don't know but chances are you will be getting irritated by them lol 😂

get your personalised readings

Pile तीन

read by @tarotbyjam24

Hi pile 3, your first meeting with your spouse is going to be amazing. You both will be mirroring each other perfectly. You both will feel compatible right after your first meet. But still you may think how come we both get so well with each other being lil skeptical. You'll be dressed beautifully. Your hairs can be tied up when you meet them . Your life may be throwing lemons at you . But after you meet them your heart will a strange wave of peace which you may not find familiar. You'll feel you suddenly got lucky strike or is god mistakenly blessing you with other's blessings but no lol it's all for you . You'll want be a kid when you meet them may even feel sleepy because of how much warmth is suddenly nature is oozing after meeting them. If you are wondering you'll be getting your dream spouse or not the answer is yes you'll get them. When you meet them for first they will be well established already . So there won't be any space left for worries . They'll treat you amazingly. They can even treat you like a child if you would want to be . Anyways they'll be spoiling you right after you meet them . Your first meeting can be set up by your parents. They'll be dressed well too. You may fall for them on first sight because of how handsome they look and their smirk oops 😩 . Your charming prince's\princess's eyes are so seductive . They can have a angular face too that catches up with modern beauty standards . Thank you for reading 😊 I feel pile 3 may feel confused choosing between pile 2 and 4 too or might read another pile instead of pile 3 .

get your personalised readings

Pile चार

read by @intutive-peechu 🫟

Hello pile 4 🥰 for you guys I'm getting two different scenarios but there something is common in them Nature , greenery, flower and trees . So the first scenario is that , that you guys may meet your fs in a garden or park . Where people go for a walk or for doing stretching, yoga etc. I saw scenario where a man holding a peace of paper in his hand walk towards a girl asking for address but the time that girl saw his face her mind got blank like this peaceful feeling washed over me so I think you guys will be the one to hooked . I mean to fall in love with them ( it's cute ) and for another scenario I saw that you guys might go for camping or hiking and loose the track of people and get lost and then you will be meeting your fs they will help you to find your way . Hmm now they can be the guide of group or they come for hiking too , but the time you find them there to help you in that problem, a relief will wash over you . You feel this gratitude towards them and an admiration for helping you . They will be probably handsome or charming and something about their physics too . They might be a lil bulky , you guys might don't feel any attraction ( I mean not getting romantic feelings right away ) but a memory will stay or you might hope to meet them again .

get your personalised readings

I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀Bless you and have a nice day🌸🐰 I'd love to hear which pile you chose

Loads of love , jam🩷

[giuseppe-yuki]

birthday celebration?

normal!max verstappen x billionaire!reader

w.c.: 3.8k

warnings: suggestive material, curse words, danica patrick (?), sassy and jimmy slander (sorry i love them irl i promise)

part of my money, money, money!universe

summary: yesterday was max's birthday. the press wants to know: you guys went all out to celebrate, right?

a/n: so yesterday was actually my birthday 🤭 i tried my best to post this before it hit 12 as a birthday treat for y'all, but it didn't really work out... consider this a late birthday post + max 4 wdc celebration :)

p.s. this is NOT the money, money, money spinoff that i promised- i'm working on that i swear🤞🥲

picture credits from pinterest :)

to say the driveway up to the gala building was crowded was an understatement. if you looked out the window of the very expensive rolls royce you were currently seated in, you could spot at least five rosso corsa ferraris and like, three jet black lamborghinis within a meter from you. to be honest, you had to give props to your private driver, daniil, because there was no way you could have strategically maneuvered the car onto the jam-packed road without causing a rather exorbitant pileup of supercars. next to you, on the plush leather seats, was your boyfriend in his freshly pressed, custom fitted suit that you had your assistant buy just for the event. he sits there politely with his hands folded together, wide blue eyes blinking at you innocently. he looked mighty handsome, and if you weren’t currently sitting in a car with a billion cars, paparazzi, and influential figures right outside, you certainly would have done some not-so-appropriate things to max right then and there.

instead of doing said things and traumatizing your poor private driver, you quickly glance at your phone. 

a bold 5:10 flashes across the screen, in front of your lockscreen of max curled up in bed with jimmy and sassy. 

shit. 

you were scheduled to do some press stuff outside the event around 5:20, and had to be inside by 5:45. if the queue of cars of ahead of you didn’t hurry up, you would probably be late, and it wouldn’t be a good thing if the ceo of redbull herself was late to her own redbull gala. 

max, like the sweet, observant boyfriend that he is, peers down at his own phone, notes the time, then tilts his head at you. 

“do you want to just run up to the entrance?” he asks, pocketing his phone. “i’m sure it’s not too far, and i don’t want you to be late for your pr stuff!” 

that didn’t sound like a bad idea. 

after notifying daniil, you and max slip out of the vehicle, much to the surprise of the people in the cars around you. once you squeeze out of the crowd of exotic cars onto the sidewalk, max takes your hand and bolts his way towards the grandly decorated stairs of the gala in the distance. 

unfortunately, you might have misjudged the distance to the entrance, because you both end up a little moist from sweat by the time your heeled feet reach the red carpet-lined stone stairs that lead up to open double doors- the entrance to the gala. lining the stairs are multiple cameras and interviewers, met-gala style. you are sure these are the pr interviews that your assistant was talking about, judging by the sprinkle of red-bull sponsored athletes chit-chatting to a few press members along the stairs and groups of photographers sending off bright flashes with their high-tech cameras. to your right, a man you recognize as sergio perez nods slowly as his interviewer animatedly gestures to a picture of sergio diving into what looks like a pool with a mexican flag wrapped around him. directly in front of you stands daniel ricciardo posing in different silly positions, much to the delight of the gossip magazine paparazzis that were probably having a field day photographing him. next to you, max ecstatically pulls on your dress and points to your left to the esports content creator, ludwig, who laughs loudly to your left as he banters with an excited looking man with a rather large microphone in hand. you haven’t really looked into ludwig’s content, but you often saw max watching his streams while you were in your online meetings, so if he liked ludwig, you guess you did too. 

you attempt to quickly pull max towards the top of the stairs towards the entrance to the gala in an effort to completely avoid doing your media duties, but you are unfortunately stopped within the next twenty seconds by your own interviewer, a lady in the brightest pink outfit you had ever seen in your life.

“heLLO!” the lady says rather enthusiastically. “danica patrick, reporting for tmz!”

“er, hi!” you respond, a little less enthusiastically. max, half-hidden behind you, gives a light wave to the camera. 

unperturbed, she flashes you both a toothy, unnaturally white smile at you both and places a microphone towards her glossy lips. 

“so, miss redbull ceo! it’s so nice to meet you!” she remarks, “and you look absolutely flawless today!” 

you give her and the camera a tight smile. 

“thank you,” you respond, as if you didn’t have two drops of sweat going down your neck and a slightly dirt-dusted gown from the sprint from your car. 

she nods, and then as if just realizing max’s presence, snatches him out from his half-hidden position behind you. 

“and you!” she exclaims, looking max up and down.  “you must be the boyfriend! max-” she checks her notes- “verstappen! yes, i’ve heard so much about you!” 

your boyfriend blinks at her, nervously twiddling the redbull pin that was pinned to his lapel. 

“okay,” he says after a beat of silence. 

the lady nods, and scribbles something down in her notes as if max had something absolutely life-changing, before turning back to you. 

“so, i’ve received the news that yesterday was max’s birthday,” she proclaims. “and i was just wondering what’d you guys did to celebrate! as a successful ceo, you must have went all out, huh?”

seriously? you think. what of question is this? you get to interview a ceo and this is the best thing you can come up with?

when you hesitate a second before answering, she probes, “rumor has it that you both went to bora bora yesterday...” 

as if it knew that today was your boyfriend’s birthday, the bright rays of the monaco sun shined a golden beam of light straight onto max’s hair, lighting the blondish-brown strands into a little halo around his head. even if it feels like a creep to just stare at his peaceful face, you can’t help but gaze a little too long at his pouty lips, long eyelashes, and light stubble. from the corner of your eye, you can see one of his devilish cats balancing precariously on the bedframe. you clock it as sassy, who you knew, unfortunately from experience, loved to pounce on max’s face in the morning when she was feeling a little hungry. sassy meows at you innocently before proceeding to crouch in a position, ready to pounce. jimmy watches at the end of the bed, doing absolutely nothing as you fight for your life trying to wave sassy away without waking up max. 

like the absolute devil sassy is, she leaps off the bedframe, claws extended, right at max. with your lightning quick reflexes that should earn you a seat in the redbull f1 team that your company sponsors, you snatch the bengal cat out of the air before she gets a chance to maul your boyfriend and send him to the emergency room on his birthday. 

she hisses at you, teeth bared, and you just about catapult her out of the open window next to the bed.

instead, you take a deep breath. you deduce that max probably wouldn’t like to wake up finding out that his cat was a pancake on the streets below his apartment, probably ran over by someone’s ferrari pista. instead, you opt for a less extreme “fuck you,” that you hiss right back at sassy. 

like he sensed someone threatening his baby, your boyfriend shifts around. 

“whadyou say?” max mutters from the pillows behind you.

you whip back to face your boyfriend, simultaneously shoving sassy away from you. 

max rubs his eyes sleepily and uses a hand to block the sun that now shines into his eyes. you try not to stare again at his eyes that light a warm whisky brown in the beams of sunlight that seep through his fingers. it cannot be legal to look this good.

“nothing,” you dismiss. 

leaping forward, you wrap your arms around him in a hug.

a surprised look crosses his face, but he leans into your embrace anyways. 

“do you know what day it is, maxie?” you ask, voice a little muffled from being pressed into the crook of his neck. 

max takes a shockingly long time to respond. 

“um… saturday?” he says slowly.

you give him a weird look. 

“well yes…but it’s also your birthday!” you exclaim.

“oh!” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “i totally forgot!”

“no way,” you say incredulously.

“yes way,” max replies, tucking you into his side with an arm around you. 

leave it up to your boyfriend to forget his own birthday. 

“well,” you state after a beat of silence of looking at the popcorn ceiling of his apartment. “good thing we still have, like, sixteen hours left to do whatever you want- and we basically have unlimited budget- so go crazy!” 

“hmm,” he says. 

“anywhere you’d like, really- bali, the hamptons, paris, dubai, maldives, bora bora,” you suggest helpfully. “or all of them?”

max thinks for second. 

“how about monaco?”

you blink confusedly. 

“so… right here?” 

“yeah,” he responds. 

you shrug. 

“sure, that’s fine too!”

deborah, or danica, or whatever her name was, babbles on as you and max stand on the stairs awkwardly.

“an inside source has also relayed to us that you might have bought your boyfriend an abt audi rs6, legacy edition for his birthday- an insanely rare and expensive car which only has 200 made in the entire world! 

an abt-legacy what? you can’t help but think, what the hell was that? 

once you get dolled up with your 12-step get-ready process and max pulls on his usual clothes (white shirt + unfortunate-looking skinny jeans), you both hop in max’s trusty little yellow renault clio rs. of course, like the cat lover he was, max refused to accept any expensive material gifts from you, and instead requested to visit the cat shelter as a birthday “gift.” you guess you would probably have to return the tag heuer watch in your bedside drawer that you had gotten him plus the keys to that yacht that was currently sitting in the monaco bay that you thought he would like. 

max whistles a cheerful tune as he types in the cat shelter address onto his phone’s navigation app as you try your best to think of the best way to approach your assistant and tell him to return the yacht that he might have spent the last week negotiating with some old rich prick to buy. his phone makes a small “ding” and prompts him to back out of the tiny garage underneath his apartment, which he does with surprising ease. the ride to the shelter is pretty smooth, except that tiny part where this dumb guy with an all-black ferrari with a red ‘16’ on the side runs the red light, almost t-bones your boyfriend, and then proceeds to stop diagonally in the middle of the road with the most rancid parking job. 

your boyfriend walks into the cat shelter with you in tow. he passes right past the front desk, waves to the man playing sudoku on his phone, and then proceeds navigates the halls like he’s been there a million times. (actually, he might have) you pass row after row of cats in little kennels that your boyfriend somehow knows the names of, before coming to a stop in front of a young lady filling little formula bottles with milk. she has at least three cats worth of cat fur all over her paw-print sweater.

“max!” she remarks, looking a little too thrilled to see him. “how are you? i haven't seen you since, like, last tuesday!” 

looking to you, her smile drops significantly. 

“oh, and… who is this?” 

“hi, i’m max’s girlfriend,” you articulate, answering her question. you reach your hand out to shake, but she pointedly ignores it. 

“great…” she says fakely. “um, so how may i help you guys?” 

max seems to not notice. instead, he has a wide smile pasted on his face. 

“well, it’s actually my birthday today, and i would like to spread kindness by making a donation to my favorite cat shelter!” he announces. 

ten minutes later, you find yourself signing a check that is made out for the ‘monaco meow manor.’ 

max twiddles his pen around his fingers.

“how much should i put it down as?” he asks, pen hovering above the empty line on the check.

you shrug. 

“i don’t know, it’s your birthday, maxie. you choose.” 

the lady who was obviously into max and the sudoku guy at the front eyes the both of you from their place at the front desk. 

you watch as max writes down a 3300 on the piece of paper. he glances at you quickly. when you raise an eyebrow at him, he turns back and adds two more zeroes at the end. but, then he proceeds to place the commas all wrong. 

“that says 3,300,00, max,” you say, pointing to the obviously misplaced commas. 

“oh,” he says. “i can’t really erase it- it’s pen.”

the lady, whose scowl has disappeared, and the guy, who sudoku puzzle has long been abandoned, whips around after hearing this number, jaws dropped. 

ignoring them, you take the pen from max’s hand. 

“here,” you say, adding another neat zero to the end of max’s blocky numbers so it reads 3,300,000. 

“okay, great, thanks!” your boyfriend says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

he then turns to the lady and hands her the check. 

“here’s the check. i hope all the kitties in here can all live long healthy lives and get everything they ever need!” 

the two people at the desk look like they are about to pass out. 

the lady clutches at the check with a white-knuckled hand and profusely thanks the pair of you. 

you fight the urge to roll your eyes. oh, now she pays attention to you. 

max, oblivious, beams, before taking your hand and leading you back out to his little yellow car. 

“helping the kitties- check!” he declares. 

you can’t help but smile and pull max into a searing kiss in front of the little cat shelter that was about to become the best-funded feline sanctuary in monaco, and most likely france too. 

you don’t even have a chance to respond to danica’s inquiry about the complicated-sounding car that you supposedly “bought” for max before she rambles on.

“i bet you bought your little boyfriend the most luxurious foods too!” she spouts. “wagyu beef, spaghetti with saffron, caviar- ooh! maybe a glass of moët?”

“i’m not telling youuuuu!” max trills, leaping around the tiny living room of his monaco apartment with his phone held high above his head. 

you don’t know whether to start raging in annoyance from your place on the scraggly carpet or to laugh at your boyfriend twirling on the lumpy sofa, phone screen purposely held away from you. jimmy only aggravates the situation by butting his head directly at your shin. 

“max! is it a crime to want know what we are going to eat for dinner??” you shout, exasperated. 

max somehow does a perfect pirouette off of the sofa (???) and smiles at you. 

“no, but it should be a crime to look so pretty,” he says, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. you try and bat him away, but he is faster. he leaps up, cackling, and bolts away. his apartment isn’t that big, just his kitchen, living room, and his single bedroom, so you take your time hoisting yourself off the carpet. you resist the urge to punt jimmy away from your shin like a football, and instead gingerly step over him before sprinting over to max’s bedroom. 

he awaits behind his bedroom door, and literally tackles you to his bed, pinning you underneath him.

its hard to stay mad at max when he’s giggling like a little kid and looking at you with those impossibly blue eyes that crinkled in the corners while he laughs. 

“i hate you,” you say with no heat. 

“mhm, i’m sure you do,” he says, all the sudden sobering up. he leans his head down and nips at your neck. 

you both know where this always leads. 

max’s white shirt disappears within seconds like the sight of a f1 car by the grandstands, and soon enough, yours does too. 

before you can do anything, though, the doorbell rings. 

your boyfriend pulls off of you, albeit hesitantly. 

“foods here, i guess,” he says, pulling his shirt back on like he wasn’t about to whip off his pants two seconds ago. 

you roll your eyes as max goes to fetch the food while you get presentable again. 

when you pad into the kitchen, you genuinely expect to see the world’s best chef tossing vegetables a meter in the air, considering how secretive max was about the birthday dinner you both were having. 

instead, max sits at the table with a ripped bag that displays a tell-tale green ubereats sticker, along with a few black plastic boxes that takes up half of the table space. 

your boyfriend rips the lids off with a flourish, showing you the contents. 

“my favoriteeeeeeee!” he chirps, gesturing to thin slices of beef carpaccio laid out prettily in the container, fragrant tomato soup in another plastic bowl, and two cupcakes.

it was kind of a weird combination, but hey, if max liked it, you weren’t gonna argue with it. 

you grab utensils for the both of you, and dig in. 

when the dregs of the tomato soup is all that's left in your bowl, the beef carpaccio is reduced to a few stray capers and lemon juice, and the wrapper is all that’s left of the cupcake, you lay back contently in your chair. 

“you know, “ you state, “i could’ve flyed in the best beef carpaccio maker in the world, the best tomato soup chef ever, and like, gordon ramsey for the cupcakes and had them make this for you.”

“eh,” he says, also laying back in his seat, feeling full and happy, “ubereats from the restaurant three blocks down is honestly just as good too.” 

danica was still not done. 

“the parties must have been wild for max's birthday, too!” she raves. “with your influence, i bet all the celebs were there! kim k, rihanna, carlos alcaraz, oprah winfrey, lebron james, johnny depp, billie ellish- shall i go on?

no, you think to yourself. no, you shouldn’t.

feeling content, you flop onto max’s bed. your boyfriend slides onto the mattress next to you, allowing you to snuggle into his soft body. you inhale the smell of his cologne, and a feeling of content drapes over your body like a warm blanket. 

“happy birthday, again, max,” you mutter, voice muffled in his chest. you slowly slide a hand suggestively into his shirt. 

“thanks,” he says. he pauses a moment before getting up, effectively making your hand drop out.  “i think i’d like to play a video game right now.”

“oh,” is all you can think to say. you loved your boyfriend very much, but sometimes he just could not understand context clues. 

“are you sure?” you ask as he sets up his gaming system, loading in f123. “we could do something else…” you trail off slowly, seeing if he could pick up what you were putting down. 

“yeah,” he says, eyes trained on the tv. he scrolls through a bunch of men in racing suits, and you spot a like, two with your company’s sign, big and bold, across their chest. huh, you kind of forgot your company sponsored f1. you squint your eyes at the white lettering displaying their names- sergio perez and daniel ricciardo. they seemed like pretty successful dudes, looking at their stats. max clicks on daniel’s profile, and jumps back onto the bed next to you as the loading screen pops up, still oblivious to your intentions. 

you let him zoom through a track named mug jello or something like that for the better half of an hour before making another move, since it was his birthday, after all. 

“do you want to watch netflix and... chill?” you suggest, nudging max. 

“one second,” he responds, as the stopwatch thing at the side of the screen turns entirely purple. a checkered flag fills the screen, and the guy with the redbull racing suit appears, drinking champagne out of a shoe. “woohoo!” he says, beaming down at you, who has now draped yourself over his lap. “i won!”

you blink at him. how was being in his lap not obvious enough?

“oh, yeah, sure, we can watch a movie.” he says hurriedly, misjudging the seriously? look on your face. 

max gently moves you out of his lap as he changes the tv channels to netflix. 

when he turns back around, you have your shirt off, sitting suggestively on the bed. 

your boyfriend laughs. 

“is it really that hot in the room? i can turn on the ac if you want,” he offers helpfully. 

reaching over, he opens his window, effectively blasting your semi-naked body with a blast of cold monaco wind that frequented the coast at night. you swear to god, if you get sick tomorrow-

you finally give up your attempts after max switches on a film called “crazy rich asians.” you snuggle into him innocently as the movie starts, and honestly, the beginning is kind of good. 

you are right in the middle of the scene where the movie’s main character, rachel, is getting a makeover by her friend, peik lin, and her ridiculous family when you catch max staring at you.

“hey, baby,” he whisper-yells, nudging you. 

“mmm?” you respond, fully intrigued as Rachel tries on dress after dress. 

“do you want to..?” 

you don’t really comprehend what he is saying as you are too focused on an intense emotional scene that pops up on the screen. 

“huh?” you say distractedly.

max’s mouth latches to your neck. 

you manage to tear your eyes away from the screen to realize what max is doing. 

oh.

you notice are still shirtless and your boyfriends hands were now wandering to places that were not so family-friendly. 

damn it, you curse silently, the movie was just getting good!

still, you can’t help to give in to max’s urges.

pretty soon, the screen glazes over in black. a prompt pops up: are you still watching?

the brunette interviewer beams at you and max, awaiting a response. the microphone that she holds is shoved a little too close to your face for comfort. seeing your silent form, her face drops into a scowl.

“no comment?” she sniffs in disdain. 

turning to max, she prods the microphone towards his lips. 

“you?” she snaps.

your boyfriend shrugs.

“all i can say is that my birthday yesterday was simply lovely.”

taglist: @sunny44 @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @xjval @fellowwomenlover @ironmaiden1313

@phobiccneel @comicalivy @amz824 @gloriousartisanpastacroissant @mastermindbaby

[digimontcgcatalog]

Fake Agumon Expert EX4-052

[sargeteen]

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 ! ˡˢ²

it’s all my love, you got all my love ✮⋆˙

𝒍ogan sargeant x 𝒅river!male reader synopsis: reader is the second driver to max verstappen, and rightfully so as max is a 4 time wdc. but, then comes miami 2025. reader hasn't had a good season so far, but the second he brings his dropped boyfriend, everything turns around.

genre: smau, fluff, chaotic humor at times warnings: speak of logan being dropped, reader takes yuki’s spot @ redbull, reader isn’t american, reader loves his pop/rap girlies

requested? nope author’s note: i missed yall sm! this was written and set up before my rebrand, so don't mind the old layout 😭😭 also this is kind of messy but uh...ueah who gaf

masterlist.

📍 miami, florida ♫ nissan altima 🅴 • doechii

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and others

youruser wuz gud miami

view all comments

userone wait…logans in miami with y/n?????

usertwo NOBODY PANIC LOGANS IN MIAMI

userthree MIAMIIIIIIIII WOOOO

logansargeant bwoah 😍😍 ⤷ youruser hi sexylicious

logansargeant who’s that tall drink of water in the first pic???? ⤷ youruser oh shhh making my blush n shit

logansargeant please have my children ⤷ youruser WOAHH DOWN BOY DOWNN 😏😏 ⤷ oscarpiastri take your freak somewhere else ⤷ logansargeant take yourself out of my bfs comments

userfour are you officially an uncle now ⤷ youruser you talkin about my lovely niece verstappen that’s going to be born this week? then yes, i’m gonna be an uncle, and the best uncle too

userfive y/n i need more logan content in miami

usersix AWOOGAAA BOOM SHAKALAKA YES GODDDD YES GODDDD

userseven y/n is my religion

maxverstappen1 stop posting yourself shirtless, y/n. nobody wants to see that. ⤷ youruser just say you’re jealous of my 20 pack max, nobody will judge you 😘 ⤷ maxverstappen1 i’m jealous of the person i was before i saw this picture ⤷ usereight I DO MAX. I WANT TO SEE THAT. ⤷ usernine who is “nobody” 😵‍💫😵‍💫

userten if logan goes to the gp i think i’ll pass away

♫ will smith • miami

liked by f1, oscarpiastri, isackhadjar, and others tagged: youruser, logansargeant

redbullracing guess who we found in miami 👀???

view all comments

usereleven never thought i’d live to see the day where logan sargeant wears a red bull racing shirt…

usertwelve OH MY GODDDD LOGANNN signs of life

youruser THE IT COUPLE OF F1! ⤷ logansargeant i know that’s right 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

userthirteen last time logan was at an formula 1 race, he was driving, and that was his last ever race. ⤷ userfourteen ho did you just shoot me 2 times

logansargeant manifesting an y/n pole and win in the homeland ⤷ youruser i’m not from the states 😭?? ⤷ logansargeant yeah but i am so homeland win ⤷ youruser stop trying to propose on insta ⤷ logansargeant let me be y/n 😕💔

userfifteen gay people in miami, be careful out there ..

usersixteen i’m actually crying i love them so much

userseventeen the fact that both max and y/n refuse to wear anything but the team kit on race days ⤷ youruser god forbid a man doesn’t know how to dress 😕💔

usereighteen logan is wearing one of y/n’s shirts and idk what to do with that information..

maxverstappen1 when’s the wedding ⤷ youruser someone’s gotta propose first ⤷ logansargeant do you want to be sar on the timesheets or keep with l/n ? ⤷ maxverstappen1 i didn’t mean under my comment.

usernineteen CANT BELIEVE THAT LOGAN IS BACK AT A FORMULA ONE RACE THIS IS INSANE

usertwenty WHY IS NOBODY ELSE LIKE FUCKING FREAKING OUT ABOUT LOGAN BEING AT MIAMI HELLO??????

♫ go to town 🅴 • doja cat

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and otherstagged: logansargeant

youruser lemme see you go to town...we love you miami

view all comments

logansargeant IF YOU DOWN BOY REAL DOWN ⤷ youruser LEMME SEE YOU GO TO TOWN!!

usertwentyone love how the internet is freaking out about logan sargeant being in the paddock yesterday for fp1, and here y/n and logan are just living their lives 😭😭

logansargeant the music i listen for you babe ⤷ youruser be honest, you love my music, love ⤷ logansargeant i can't, my reputation ⤷ youruser god forbid a white guy catches a vibe 💔💔

usertwentytwo i need y/n's playlist please 😭😭 ⤷ youruser here you go; open.spotify.com/playlist/2huh... ⤷ usertwentytwo UOU'RE A GODSEND

usertwentythree Y/N L/N MIAMI POLE! Y/N L/N MIAMI WIN!

maxverstappen1 how did you even get up there ⤷ youruser i'm a slippery fellow ⤷ maxverstappen1 yeah so...no thank you ⤷ youruser i just know how to climb...😉 ⤷ maxverstappen1 EW WHAT THE FUCK

usertwentyfour y/n was born to give max heart attacks

usertwentyfive CAN'T BELIVE YALL ARE IN MIAMI TOGETHER

usertwentysix like it was lowkey expected since yall are dating but like i was still shocked to see logan wearing a RED BULL RACING TEAM KIT

oscarpiastri i almost threw up. never going on a boat that y/n is driving again. ⤷ youruser you just hate fun ⤷ oscarpiastri i would actually rather have you alive so then logan isn't crying and complaining in my dms about how much he misses you ⤷ youruser he already does that during rawe ceek ⤷ logansargeant ok wtf we outing me for. WHAT YOU SAYING FUCK ME FOR?????

charles_leclerc the l/n-sargeant boat party was so much fun! please tell me we are doing these until 2041 👴🏻❤️ ⤷ youruser CHARLESSS LMFAOOO yes we're doing them until we're 80 ❤️❤️ ⤷ charles_leclerc we're gonna kill it on the dance floor with our dentures ⤷ kimiantonelli old asses ⤷ youruser KIMI YOU'RE A KID YOU CANT SWEAR

usertwentyseven y/ns comments are always chaotic

usertwentyeight love you forever y/n and logan!

usertwentynine do yall need a third? ⤷ youruser i'll keep in touch

userthirty BOAF!

liked by logansargeant, youruser, redbullracing, and others

f1 Y/N L/N TAKES POLE IN MIAMI!!!!

what a performance from y/n after performing out of points for the first 5 races of the season!

view all comments

userthirtyone OH THATS MY GOAT RIGHT THERE

userthirtytwo he finally realized how to drive a red bull ⤷ userthirtythree this shouldn't be funny

logansargeant ready for that y/n sweep... ⤷ youruser you're going to jinx me, loges ⤷ logansargeant i could never jinx you, babe

userthirtyfour ok call me crazy...y/n hasn't been performing well at all this season, but then the second his bf shows up to a race he's getting above p8 for all practice sessions and then gets pole in quali? oh this man is so down bad it's crazy ⤷ userthirtyfive just another gay man who wants to perform well for his bf he aint special open your eyes to the land of landoscar ⤷ userthirtysix please delete the people are asking for you to delete

userthirtyseven i wonder what oscar's reaction was to seeing logan back in the paddock

redbullracing and that's how we do it here at red bull ⤷ userthirtyeight after messing up the first 5 races? ⤷ userthirtynine just fire horner atp

userfourty GOD BLESS AMERICA I LOVE MY AMERICAN DRIVER ⤷ userfourtyone he ain't american? ⤷ userfourty yeah but his bf is so that makes him american by proxy and i need my american rep back in the f1 paddock ⤷ userfourtyone can't even argue with you here

liked by logansargeant, youruser, redbullracing, and others

f1 Y/N TAKES THE MIAMI GRAND PRIX, HIS FIRST EVER FORMULA 1 WIN! 🥇

view all comments

userfourtytwo MY GOAT THATS MY DRIVER I LOVE YOU

userfourtythree sorry for ever doubting you y/n...

logansargeant A HEATER 🔥🔥🔥 ⤷ youruser oh please shut your mouth, respectfully

logansargeant now i'm not saying that this is all because of me...but i think i might have something to do with this ⤷ youruser please dont go around bragging...

logansargeant THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND!!! ⤷ userfourtyfour don't worry logan...nobody is taking him from you ⤷ userfourtyfive i am... ⤷ logansargeant no you aren't

userfourtysix thank god i'm so happy for him he really deserves this win oh my god i love u

userfourtyseven WOMP WOMP WHO GAF ⤷ logansargeant ME! I GAF! I DO GAF!

logansargeant look at my sexy boyfriend

userfourtyeight i need a bf like logan fr

userfourtynine THAT WORLD DRIVERS CHAMPIONSHIP IS NEXT

userfifty OH MY GOATTTTTT

liked by youruser, charles_leclerc, kimiantonelli, and others

logansargeant BOOM SHAKALAKA MY BOYFRIEND IS A GRAND PRIX WINNER!!!

view all comments

youruser and my boyfriend is the boyfriend of a grand prix winner ⤷ logansargeant i kind of like this wag business

userfiftyone your boyfriend is a SLUT ⤷ logansargeant that is also true ⤷ youruser how am i supposed to argue that?

tags: @milessunflowers @lokisenpai @kevinlolwife @op-81-lvr-reblogs @kazanskied @481rosier @raizelchrysanderoctavius @mountainshuman @spoonfulofmilo

[honeybunnyale]

I'm Not In Love l B.B.

w.c.: 4k

t.w.: Dark Series, dub-con verging on non-con smut (Somnophilia, frottage), Slight Steve x Reader, Possessive Bucky, Obsessive Bucky, Stalker Bucky >:), Red Room/Hydra reader, unhealthy power dynamics, angst, I want both super soldiers pls :) 

a/n: Please read all warnings for all of my works before reading. 18+ only! I’m basing off of the titles from songs. This one’s I’m Not In Love by 10cc. ♥

Summary: Bucky is roaming New York. He watches and gets jealous. (Set after first part, Recognized)

New York

May, 9 2014

Your underwear is missing. Your window frame had also loosened. Somehow, you didn’t feel as anxious about it as any normal person should have. It brought you an odd sense of satisfaction. 

You were the first person he visited.

You leave leftovers in the fridge, some cash on the coffee table. Your Tupperware had a little less and your coffee table was cleaned, your two twenties gone. You’d scan the room as you entered, most of the time getting out of your apartment to give him time to explore your space. You’d admire a nearby park, sitting by the fountain as the breeze cooled your face. 

Judging by the way he left your laundry basket open, he may have explored for too long. 

He was like a ghost. A timid ghost that was too sheepish to make himself known. No scares, no malicious intentions, just a mediocre haunting. 

You haven’t told anyone about it yet, not even Steve. You’re sure he wouldn’t tell you if ‘Buck’ was visiting him every other day either. Given, he would have had the same amount of boxers in his drawers. 

He may not even notice. 

…

Brooklyn

July 4, 2014

Captain America liked nightclubs. The lively atmosphere and the beer, at the very least. Sam had gotten him a cake and with lack of coordination, Natasha had ordered one made too. It was a good thing that super soldiers could pack away a lot. Excess sugar could never hurt him. 

Sam was attempting to bribe the bar for free drinks and Nat was at the bakery nearby picking up a sheet cake and some candles. You were left alone with him, picking at the sprinkles from Sam’s cake and keeping Steve company. 

You sit next to him in a booth, sipping on your Tequila Sunrise. He was glancing at you every other moment, his ring finger tapping against the glass beer pint nervously. 

Your eyes glided over the crowd dancing, Daft Punk playing as drinks spilled and bodies rolled over each other. A dark figure walks through the crowd, moving through the synchrony of movement and parting it to reach the other end of the dancefloor.

Broad shoulders, large chest enveloped by leather, and shoulder length brown hair. Your breath hitches as you swear you saw glaring blues direct their stare in your direction. 

Steve notices you tense, throat bobbing as you take a large gulp out of your glass. Your eyes flicker between the table and your hands, He feels you stiffen beside him. 

He assumes you were uncomfortable with the loud noise and the awkward company he was. His shoulders square, he clears his throat as he directs a tight lipped smile at you. 

You raise your glass lightly, mimicking his gesture. You make yourself smaller into the cushion of the booth. You feel as if a wolf was staring at you, stalking and waiting. Your eyes widen as the figure appears again, much clearer now as disco lights illuminate his face. You swallow thickly as his eyes shift to Steve, now placing his hand on top of yours in worry.

Jame’s jaw tenses and his eyes narrow. As if he wanted to rip his hands off of you. 

You inhale sharply and grab Steve’s hand without warning. 

“Let’s dance, Steven.” 

It was uncomfortable, admittedly. He didn’t move from his spot in the booth as you stood, his cheeks turning a bright red as your hand gripped onto his forearm to pull him out. You almost forget about his super strength. He was as solid as a marble statue, but he didn’t make an effort to pull his hand away. He was gentle despite his clear refusal. 

A closer look, that was all you wanted. Maybe you were seeing things. You hoped so. You begged Steve with your eyes, smiling softly. 

You're almost surprised it worked. 

Steve’s hand grips onto yours firmly as you lead him into the crowd. His shoulders tense as bodies bump into him. He was the tallest one around, making him stand out. Your fingers tickle up his forearms, starting with a soft sway of your hips he could mimic. 

Your head sways side to side, arms moving to loosen him as Steve holds your hands tightly. Your eyes wander to your sides, searching to find him in the crowd, staring you down as you feel he is at that moment. 

Steve loosens, his hips start to find the beat as the song shifts into something a tad slower, the bass hitting a little deeper. People start to pair up, his fingers twitch as you pull him in closer, hands grazing over the muscles of his arms to meet his shoulders, then neck. 

He swallows thickly, he says your name, almost in a question. You couldn’t hear it from the loud music. 

“Relax,” you say softly, knowing his sensitive hearing could pick it up.

He was focused on you, the smell of your perfume, the way your hoop earrings glimmer from the lights. Your breasts press together as your wrists rest against the back of his neck. Your top was exposing, thin straps, and flowy and breezy fabric. 

His hands move to your hips, you bring yourself closer to him, pelvis meeting his. Your eyes scan behind Steve’s broad shoulders, eyes narrowing as you press your chest against his, bodies closer than ever. He wasn’t behind Steve. You sigh. 

You turn, facing away from him, your hips moving back and forth against his front. You guide him to the rhythm, he melts into the touch. 

He catches your eye again, moving from one side of the room to the other, at the edges of the crowd. He was a blur. You glance behind you, tilting your head up to catch Steve staring, lips parted in awe. 

He grinds against the swell of your ass, you feel him, thick and hard. His cock pulsing as it chubs up against the plush of your ass. His grip tightens and he has half a mind to start apologizing but you encourage it, pressing further against him and placing your hand on top of his. 

He groans lightly, feeling his stomach tighten and his heart quicken. You turn your head from side to side, in time with the slow tempo, pressing your back against his chest as you work him up further. 

He’s enjoying himself, you were too. You find him quickly, he was sitting at the bar now, nursing a beer as he stares with half lidded eyes at your display. You move erotically, staring back, licking your teeth as Steve leans down to your neck, your hand moving up to cup the back of his head. 

His metal fist clenches, covered in a leather glove. There’s your ghost. Not so shy and sheepish. He was staring daggers at you, at Steve. Finally, you see him. He keeps his head down as he takes his jacket roughly off the back of his seat and makes his exit through the crowded bar. 

…

He blows out his candles at a brooklyn pizza parlor, completely vacant at one in the morning. One cake had the number nine and the other six. It was very intimate. It was nice. 

You took a taxi home, looking out of the window. Maybe he was following closely behind. You think for a moment that he wouldn’t bother. He was upset, you might have gone too far. 

You think you were more desperate for a reaction from him than anything else. It was so unlike you. Cap couldn't even meet your eye the rest of the night. But you guess the departing hug meant it would be quickly forgotten. 

Dropping your keys and jacket onto the kitchen table, you start to take your shoes off. Your heart drops as you turn to lock your door and feel that something is off. 

You turn quickly to find the window open, just by a smidge. The curtains flail with the wind. You could smell the coming rain. 

Your breath stutters as you swallow thickly. It was nothing. 

Soft music hummed from your bedroom travelling all the way to your shower. You lathered your body in soap, rinsing it off gently. You relax. 

Then you hear a thunk, as if something had fallen to your carpeted floor outside the bathroom. You pause. 

You towel dry softly, reaching into the sink cabinet and blindly pawing at the corner to find your hidden pistol. 

You hum a tune as you dress. A song from the nightclub that would repeat every thirty minutes. Hanging your towel to dry and stepping up to turn the knob of the door, you inhale sharply. 

You step out with a gun in hand, you scan the room with your weapon raised. You pause. Your lips gloss had fallen off the vanity. 

You exhale. Placing the gun against your bedside table in irritation and stuffing your makeup in its bag. 

After a cup of tea, you start to fall asleep, feeling as if you were exhausted. Your eyes flutter closed, so unlike you. You didn't sleep well at all, it was a miracle your eyes closed for more than a minute at a time.

Wait. 

You wake up with the feel of his gaze from the corner of the room. You could hear his breathing. Soft and consistent. He shifts in his seat from the vanity table. You open your eyes slowly, groggy from whatever he had given you. 

Your eyes were blurry, you could barely move. His legs spread further, the small table lamp illuminating half of his face and the hand holding your gun against the table. You would scoff if you could, as if you could walk up and take it. 

You groan, willing your body to move from its side to lay on your back, your sheets shift as you attempt to sit up. You fail, slumping against the pillows in an awkward position. 

Your ghost just watches, face curious. You arch a brow as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. He inhales slowly and deeply, eyes never leaving yours, hands squeezing as they interlace together. 

He groans. The whole room smelled of you, he closed his eyes for a moment to take it in. He just couldn’t get you out of his damn head. He has dreams, sometimes nightmares with you in them. His hand cupping yours as you hold a revolver, pressing your finger against the trigger with his own as you aimed it at a faceless woman. He’d hold you afterward, hands intertwined as his lips peppered kisses over your forehead, leading down your cheek, your jaw, making your skin tingle as he licked a path with his tongue down your throat. 

He’d stuff your cunt with his cock, holding you from behind, your legs spreading as you moan into him, your head burying itself into the crook of his neck. 

He remembers these moments in his sleep, as if encouraging him to search for something. Maybe search for you. He knows who he is, on paper. James Buchanan Barnes. He knows who you are too. All that he’s done to you, all you’ve done to him.

Then there’s Steven Grant Rogers. He knows that he was important to him. But, he doesn’t think he would understand him as well as you did. He was stuck. 

Bucky, James, The Winter Soldier, Comrade, Soldat. He rubs his temple as he stands, pacing near the end of your bed. Your eyes track him. You fight sleep, your eyes starting to close. What did he want? Every time you blinked it was getting harder and harder to open them up again. 

He was wearing a jacket, a grey shirt, dark washed jeans, and thick boots. They didn’t fit him quite well, who knows where he could have gotten them from. A donation bin, a safehouse nearby. You hoped he had a warm place to stay at night.

You make a noise, a mumble tumbling from your lips, sounding like a moan. You close your eyes, they stay closed for ten seconds before lazily opening again. He’s made his way across the bedroom, sitting next to you. He cups your cheek, your eyes flutter. His hands were cold.  

You blink and you can't open your eyes anymore. 

…

Colmar, France

1986

He sits on the edge of the bed and watches. Your lungs burn with every breath. Tears drag down your cheeks, gathering near the back of your neck. Monitors beep, your fingers twitch from the sedative. 

He scared you to no end. It was one of the last training sessions of the week. The Red Room had come up with this idea. They could train widows, such as yourself, to become more efficient with the help of the deadliest assassin alive. 

The Winter Soldier was not kind to you. They expected you to die within the month. But you were always different, you weren’t trained from birth. They wanted to stretch the limits of molding the perfect weapon. 

Experiments, mithridatism, training, graduation. You survived it all as a relatively unskilled early adult. You were supposed to be proof that building a broader network could work as efficiently as raising it. 

His hand lays over yours gently, the same one that had struck you so hard you thought you had gone blind for a second. You glare at him. He lifts it, minding the wires. He holds your hand softly, knowing that the doctors would come to check on you in about ten minutes. 

He was offering you comfort. 

The softness peturbs you. A sorry couldn't heal broken bones, or ripped flesh. You exhale softly, it burns. It wasn’t his fault. You feel his pulse, fingers tightening over his wrist. 

Your glare softens. You close your eyes and rest against the stiff pillow. It wasn’t his fault.

…

4:00 A.M. 

New York

July 5, 2014 

He lifts your hand and presses his lips to your knuckles as you sleep. The back of your hands were soft, he rubs his cheek against them. Your breath was even, your chest rising and falling in your unconscious state.

He adjusts you in a comfortable position, fluffing your pillows as he lifts your head to his chest lightly. He trails his nose over your hairline as he cups the back of your head. He groans. Both in satisfaction and annoyance. 

His body was out of sorts. He couldn’t control himself very well. It was like it was trying to stabilize itself. He gets hard at the mere thought of you now. 

He tugs his boots off neatly, placing them together beside your bed frame. Your body melded into his as he laid you against him. His heart pounds rapidly, his throat was threatening to close as your weight was supported against him. 

He was going to ask you questions. That was the plan he promised himself he would keep. He thinks he upped the dosage too much. Oh well. Now all he wanted was to hold you, his hands run back and forth over your back, your head buried in his neck. 

He can feel your breath on his throat.

Your legs were spread over his hips. His cock was aching, he felt his boxers wet with his pre cum. He licks his lips. Your ass was peeking from your sleep shorts. His hand smooths over the plump flesh, you’ve gained some weight, healthy weight. He liked it. 

His hand tightens, your skin was like bread dough, spreading over his fingers. His hips twitch upward as he instinctively presses yours down, the seam of your shorts press against the zipper of his jeans. He moans as he feels your mound grind against his bulge. 

Sweat collects along his brow, he licks his lips as he hesitates. It wouldn’t hurt anyone, he’ll be quick. 

He pushes his jeans down, leaving him in his boxers. His cock was pulsing in his grip, his jerks becoming uncontrolled and sporadic. He pushes your shorts to the side, his tip purple with pressure, he leans his head back as he presses his cockhead against the seam of your panty covered pussy. 

He imagines sinking in, his cock too big for him to get balls deep at first. He’d work you open, holding you up by your hips, allowing you to take him inch by inch until your cunt meets his pelvis. 

You make a noise from the back of your throat as he presses against your clit. Heavy, hot, and wet puffs meet his neck as he continues to grind against you. His hips thrust upward, his metal hand holding your hip in place as you start to moan and shake against him too. 

He was so close, he felt his stomach tighten, his cock pulse in need. Fuck. He lifts the fabric of your underwear and slides his cock in between your lips, he consistently bumps up onto your clit as he bear hugs your upper torso and thrusts upwards. 

You shake softly against him, a garbled moan coming from your throat as he feels your opening pulse and gush. He loses himself. His head was buried in your hair, taking a deep breath as he came inside of your panties, his cum making a mess of your cunt and mound. 

He could feel your heart beat like a hummingbird’s, your breaths coming out in puffs. And yet your eyes are still closed, your breath calms as he smooths his palm over your back soothingly. 

He cleans you with a soft towel and warm water. He positions you to lay comfortably in your sleep and puts his boots back on. 

He leaves quickly after. 

…

New York

November 27, 2014

You take your gloves off, placing them on the coffee table. Thanksgiving was pleasant. Natasha had managed to get you into Avengers tower. Tony Stark had made a show of a holiday. It was an event full of loners without families. It made you chuckle. 

Steve dropped you off on his motorcycle. It seemed as if he was waiting for you to invite him up to your apartment, or at least he was gathering the courage to tell you something by the way he leaned against his bike with his hands in his pockets. 

You gave him a hug and shooed him away quickly when you had noted the window slightly ajar in your apartment. You never open your windows. The smog, you’d argue.

You sigh as you take off your shoes. You stride to the window and close it shut aggressively.  

“Have you eaten yet?” 

You get no response, you tense. If it wasn’t him, it could be someone else. And you had a lot of enemies. You make your way to the kitchen calmly and pull a handle from the knife block Sam had gifted you a month ago, seeing as you didn’t have any proper cooking utensils.  

You turn and are met with a solid wall of chest, you swipe before you could fully process the situation but a hand stops you. Metal. You dropped your knife as he turned your wrist roughly. A shot of electricity shoots up your arm. 

His eyes are apologetic as he steps back, and watches as you clutch your hand in slight pain. 

Habit. 

“Jesus…” you mutter, your thumb rubbing along your wrist soothingly. You glare at him with a glance as you cross over to the living room. You turn on your lamp, it illuminates the small area in a shade of orange. It was cheap, you didn’t mind it. 

He takes in the small apartment you call home, finally able to see it in proper lighting. He’s been reading up on the files. Your report said you originated from California. Your close relatives have long gone. You barely had any personal items in the small living room. As if you were ready to leave at a moment's notice. 

He steps towards you, you step back. You look at him inquisitively. He hasn't frequented your apartment since the time he drugged you to sleep. It was a nice sleep, you had to give it to him. Really nice. 

“I’m leaving.”

You say nothing, just giving him a slow nod. He should have left weeks ago. The government was looking for him, Hydra must be too. You at least had connections to the Avengers, they couldn’t outright kill you on a random tuesday anymore. 

“Come with me,” he says confidently, his blue eyes piercing. 

You stare at him. He steps closer, his hands fidget nervously at your silence. Clearly he thought it would go smoothly.

He swallows thickly and his hand cups your cheek, looking into your eyes sincerely. 

“Out of the U.-”

“He’s looking for you, Bucky,” you interrupt harshly. 

Something ferocious flashes in his eyes as you call him Bucky. It didn’t sound exactly right. It was familiar. It was foreign to your tongue though. He wasn’t Bucky to you. Although sometimes you wish he was. This person in front of you, it felt as if he didn’t belong with you. 

Steve talks about this Bucky all of the time. The dancer, the flirt, the soldier with morals. He was pure and bright. He was happy. Happier. 

“I don’t even know who that is. Who the hell is Bucky? I don’t even remember who Steve Rogers is.” 

You shake your head, he grabs your chin. 

“I remember you.”

Your face falls. You wished he didn’t. Sometimes you wish you could forget him. Turns out you were both haunting each other. You clear your throat and look away, your face and voice neutral as you speak.

“Steve will help you remember. He’s your friend.” 

He sighs. His hand drops down to his side. He takes that as a no to his offer. He looks to you desperately, he’s lost. He needed someone familiar. 

You bite your lip and sigh in defeat. You move towards him, as if he were a feral dog, slow and soft. 

Your gentle hand on his chest was warm, you stood in front of him, looking him over, your eyes rounded in concern. 

“You eating good?” you mutter. You knew the answer. His shirts have filled in. Even if you weren’t willing to go on the run with him now, you still cared. 

He snorts. You look up in surprise as he smiles down at you. Hydra was definitely not a five star restaurant. Your lips betray you and tilt upwards at his sarcastic gaze. Of course he was eating well. 

Both of your hands cup his face now, exploring this new version of him. He hasn’t shaved in a while, his hair was up in a bun. He looked well enough. His hand meets your waist and pulls you closer. He leans down. 

“I missed you.” 

You were gone for two years. Two years he’s had to endure alone. He rests his forehead against yours. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back. He smiles and shakes his head. You shouldn’t be sorry. You escaped. Now he did too. You were both free. He kisses your cheek and straightens up to pull you closer into a hug. 

You stay in place for a while, your hand wound tightly onto the back of his shirt, his pressing your head against his chest. Clinging to each other. 

You tilt your head up after a while. 

“I know a place you could go.” 

…

He opens the pack you had forced upon him. It included a pistol, a knife, some rope. Packs of old granola bars and plenty of cash.

The front pocket had something solid. He opens it up to find a burner phone. His hand turns the small brick phone as passengers board the train. 

The contact list included several names. Sam, Natasha, Barton, Steve. He makes it a point in his head to never call those numbers. 

He sees your name at the bottom, newly added. He smiles. He wonders how long you've been planning on giving him the bag.

Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom. I louve et yiessss. Let me know what ya'll think! Sending love.

--------------------

-Alejandra 💋 🐇

Taglist 🫶:

@vxllys

[honeyscara]

Chapter 1

Whc masterlist| Sieun’s tutor masterlist

Next chapter

You don’t even knock when you get to the Yeon household—you just stand there, glaring at the door like it personally wronged you.Because, in a way, it did.This door leads to Yeon Sieun.

A boy you barely know but already hate. Not because he’s done anything to you, but because your mother worships the ground he walks on. Every dinner, his name drops like a stone in your bowl of soup.

“You know Sieun? Such a sweet, brilliant boy! Ranked first again! You could learn a lot from him.”Well, now you’re apparently going to.

The door swings open with a soft click.

He’s shorter than you imagined. Pale. Stone-faced. Dressed like he was built out of grayscale—washed-out hoodie, black jeans, socks that don’t quite match. His hands are tucked into his pockets like even this—you—are a waste of time.

“You’re late,” he says, voice flat and measured.

You glance at your phone. “It’s literally 4:02.”

“Late,” he repeats, already turning away.

No hello. No invitation inside. Just his back walking away like the conversation’s over.You roll your eyes and follow.

His apartment is quiet. Immaculate. Like a display unit someone forgot to live in. The air smells faintly of lemons and dust, and the walls are bare, like even the furniture is holding its breath.

He’s already at the table when you walk in, flipping through a notebook. His name is written neatly on the cover—centered, underlined. His handwriting is terrifyingly precise.

He slides a test paper across the table. Your math test. The one that had your mother dramatically sighing into her rice bowl.

“You got eleven questions wrong,” he states, without looking up.

“No hello?” you say, sliding into the seat across from him.

“I didn’t ask to do this. Let’s just get it over with.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you always talk to people like you’re trying to make them leave?”

He finally looks at you then—eyes sharp, dark, and unsettlingly calm. “Only the ones who complain before trying.”

You open your mouth, ready to bite back. But—Okay. That was a good one.

You mutter something under your breath and reach for your pencil case. He watches you. Not casually—analytically. Like your grip on the pencil says something profound about your intelligence. It’s… disconcerting.

“I can feel you judging me,” you mutter.

“That’s because I am.”

Your eyes snap up. “Do you even want to tutor me?”

“No.”

You blink. “Then why—?”

“Because my mom said I should. And my mom is… persistent.”

You stare at him. “So you’re doing this just because you have to.”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

You almost laugh. “No. It actually makes me feel better. At least we both hate this.”

Something twitches at the corner of his mouth. Barely. A glitch in the matrix.

For the next half hour, there’s only the scratch of pens and your frustrated sighs. He doesn’t sugarcoat his corrections, but he’s not cruel either. Just Sieun. Precise. Distant. Efficient.

You finish the last question and hand it to him. He scans it, then nods once.

“Better,” he says.

You blink. “Better like…’this still sucks’? Or ‘better’ as in ‘maybe your brain can do math’?”

His eyes lift slowly to meet yours.

“The second one.”

You stare.

It’s the closest thing to praise you’ve heard from him. And somehow… it sticks with you the whole walk home.

*a few days later*

You’re halfway through your second pack of choco pies when the doorbell rings.

You glance at the time: 8:03 p.m.

Your mom’s in the kitchen and calls out, “That must be Sieun! Poor boy, he said he was running late—open the door for him, sweetheart!”

You almost choke on the pie in your mouth.

“He’s coming now?”

No warning. No text. Just casually dropping in four hours late like it’s completely normal.You open the door, fully ready to send him into the next dimension.

Then you see his face.

There’s a bruise under his left eye, purple and just starting to swell. A shallow split on his lower lip. His knuckles are raw, like he punched pavement—or someone’s jaw.

He stands there like nothing’s wrong. Same bag slung over one shoulder, same neutral stare, like this is just another tutoring session.

You stare. “What the hell happened to your face?”

He steps inside without a word, barely glancing around your living room.

“Sit,” he says, pulling out your notebook.

“No,” you say sharply, grabbing his sleeve. “Sieun. What happened?”

“Nothing,” he replies instantly. “We’re already behind. Your test is in two days.”

“I don’t care about the test right now. Did you get in a fight?”

He blinks at that, visibly thrown off for a second.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re ugly,” you shoot back, “and it’s distracting.”

That gets him. His jaw twitches like he’s debating whether to argue or walk out. But eventually, he sighs in defeat. You dart to the bathroom and return with your emergency skincare pouch.

“Sit still,” you command, kneeling on the couch beside him.

He hesitates, then sits stiffly like he’s never had anyone this close before. You dab the ointment gently on the bruise below his eye. He flinches just barely—so slight you almost miss it.

“Was it bad?” you ask quietly. “The fight?”

“i told you it was nothing,” he murmurs.

You don’t press, even though your chest tightens a little. You apply the cream to his split lip next, fingers grazing his skin lightly.

“I can do it myself,” he mutters.

“You’d miss the corner.”

A pause.

“You’re very persistent,” he says.

“You’re very bad at taking care of yourself.”

He doesn’t respond, but his eyes flick to yours. There’s something unfamiliar in them—less guarded, just for a second. Like he’s trying to figure you out the same way he figures out equations.You cap the cream, then open a tiny cherry lip balm.

“I don’t want—”

You ignore him, pressing the balm gently to his lip. He goes silent, unmoving, and for the first time since you met, he looks unsure. Up close, you notice he’s breathing a little heavier than usual. Not from pain. From something else.

“You’re done,” you say softly, pulling away.He stares at you for a beat too long. Then blinks, gaze dropping to your open notebook on the table.

“You still don’t know how to factor quadratics,” he says, voice back to flat and cold.You roll your eyes, but there’s a tiny smile pulling at your lips.

��Yeah, yeah. Just teach me, robot boy.”

He doesn’t smile. Of course he doesn’t. But this time, he doesn’t correct you either.You expect him to pull away and return to his usual one-word answers and emotionless stares. But he doesn’t move. Just sits there, eyes low, like he’s suddenly forgotten how to function.Then—almost too quiet to hear—

“…Thanks.”

Your head jerks up. “What?”

“I said thanks,” he repeats, eyes still on the table. “For the… ointment.”

You blink. “Okay, now I’m concerned. Did you hit your head too?” He shoots you a look—blunt, unimpressed. There he is.

You smile, just a little. “Anytime.”

He exhales again, more like a sigh this time. The weight in his shoulders hasn't gone away, though. There’s something still pressed into his bones. Something heavy he won’t say.

“Was it worth it?” you ask quietly, without looking at him. “The fight?”

A pause. Then—

“No.”

He doesn’t explain. You don’t ask.

The air between you softens. Still awkward, still filled with unfinished sentences and jagged, edges. But softer.

He shifts, pulling your math notebook toward him again. “Page forty-two. Practice set three.”

You sigh, leaning in beside him. “You know, I could have a concussion just from looking at these questions.”

He doesn’t smile. But he doesn’t move away either.For the rest of the hour, his voice is calm, patient—even if his expression never changes. When your pencil slips and your brows furrow in frustration, he reaches over without a word and corrects the formula.

It’s still tutoring. But it doesn’t feel like punishment anymore. Maybe you could actually get along with him.

The first chapter isn't much but it get better

Taglist: @eijizwrld @night-fall-moon @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @jihooneyluv @hnch33rios @stxr-lilac @mizxuqii

[sscieloz]

Live my life

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: It’s been less than a year since the band Aespa was created. Karina, Minjeong, Giselle and Ningning travel all over the country with nothing but a few gigs, little money and much love for the music. They’re far from superstars, and they still don’t have a lot to offer, and there’s something they can’t quite grasp: why you, the band’s most faithful fan, follows them blindly.

Warnings: smut. lowk confusing… but it’s the aesthetic

Word count: 9.9k

Notes: I HAVE RETURNED FROM THE DEAD 😤😤 I was obsessed w the MV as soon as it was out so I wrote this!!

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

—

“Do you think it’ll fit?” Ningning’s hesitation is easily explained by the amount of suitcases hanging from the small hood of the car. The four girls agreed to bring each a single backpack of clothes for themselves, so the instruments and sound equipment could also be transported.

Clearly, it was still too much.

“It has to.” Winter answers, her tiny frame reaching up as she tries to grab one of the big suitcases herself. With Ningning’s help, she manages to do it, and they both stare at the car, wondering about an adjustment that would work.

Just as both girls imagined how to rearrange the space, Giselle and Karina stepped down the house's stairs, frowning.

Karina, is, as always, not amused by the struggle placed in front of her, but Giselle scoffs, judging her bandmates for not having things ready yet. They were supposed to pack their stuff in the car while she and Karina prepared their snacks and made sure all the windows and doors were closed, so they’d find no surprises once they got back home from their trip. Now, they’d leave later than expected, which would result in them facing the road at night— which was exactly what they were avoiding.

This day was starting to piss her off.

“What are you doing?” Giselle crossed her arms against her chest, trying her best to not sound as irritated as she was. They all knew, though. The girls know each other too well.

“Playing Tetris.” Minjeong stared back at her, with a tone that was just as presumptuous. “What does it look like we’re doing, Gigi? The space is obviously too fucking small for all of our stuff.”

Karina takes a step further before Giselle is able to open her mouth and give her friend a petty response. Her clumsy hands rearranged the suitcases so fast the three girls barely registered her actions, closing the hood of the car in a quick motion so everything wouldn’t fall off.

“Mhm, you won’t be able to see much of what’s behind the car, Gigi, but I don’t think it can get any better than that.”

The girls simply stare, impressed by Karina’s skills.

“So… problem solved?” Ningning asks, and they all nod.

Without a word, the four girls enter the small car, squeezing themselves as they prepare for their small trip. It wasn’t uncommon for the band to spend hours stuck in Giselle’s stepfather’s old 2000 Civic, but the lack of space was always annoying, making them all feel packed in like sardines. However, the vehicle was the only option they had to make their way to nearby cities to perform, so they avoided making any complaints.

The band was just about an hour into their 4-hour drive when Giselle pulled over, cursing under her breath.

“Fuck.” She mutters, biting her nails as she looks at the line of cars being stopped by the police, just a few miles ahead. Her face was even paler than usual, which set the girls on alert mode immediately— out of the four of them, Giselle was the least likely to panic at any unusual situation.

As soon as her body tensed, the Uchinaga felt long, lithe hands on her neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to soothe her, filling her with reassurance. Karina’s, naturally. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Yeah, why did we stop?” Ningning adds to Karina’s question, just as curious.

Minjeong’s brows furrow and she adjusts her posture, trying to stare at the horizon in the same position Giselle was, from the passenger’s seat instead. As always, she’s quick to understand the situation. “They’re stopping the cars ahead, but it’s just their normal procedure. They’ll stop us, of course, since we’re young girls traveling by ourselves with a bunch of luggage, but we’ve got nothing to hide, so… keep going, unnie. It’s fine.”

Seconds went by before Giselle grunted, a tense atmosphere hanging in the air while she fidgeted her fingers. Only then, her answer came, barely in a murmur. “I don’t have a license.” She could only hope they hadn’t heard her.

Judging from the way her bandmates’ mouths opened in shock they all started to speak together, though, they did.

Such a selective hearing, huh. She always had to yell at them at least three times for someone to get up from the living room and do the dishes, whenever they were home.

“What the fuck, unnie?”

“Do you really drive us illegally? Girl, we go everywhere by car!”

“I can’t believe you’re so damn irresponsible, I fucking swe—“

Karina stops their banter by out-screaming the two younger girls, a few minutes after Giselle had shrieked down on her seat so much she could merge with it anytime. “Wait! Wait.” Three pairs of eyes stare at her, inquiring. The quietness was odd, but it didn’t last much anyway. “I thought you had your permit taken last month?”

It’s Giselle’s turn to roll her eyes, then. “I literally told you I failed. Do you pay attention to anything I say?”

Despite the situation they found themselves in, Minjeong and Ningning couldn’t help but giggle. It wasn’t news that Karina’s got her head up in the clouds, but her innocence was always funny to the girls. Despite being the oldest, she’s just a big puppy, after all.

And she looks outraged, ears red at the thought of being fooled by Aeri.

“What? we even celebrated!” Her face comes to the realization, as Minjeong tries to hide her laughter with a fake coughing fit. Winter’s blonde hair blows effortlessly when she turns her head to the window, in an obvious attempt to escape Giselle’s piercing stare. “Oh! Was that why you were being such a jerk the entire night, at the club?”

Giselle ruffles her hair in frustration but nods anyway. “Yes, that was the reason. Thanks for reminding us of that wonderful day, Jiminnie.”

Ningning taps on Karina’s shoulder, in hopes of offering some comfort to the desolated girl. She whistles, then looks from Aeri to Minjeong as if hoping they’d pull a permit out of nowhere and start driving again. Once it’s clear none of them would provide any solution, she does so herself, lifting her hips to grab her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.

“I’ll call Y/n.” Is all she says, clicking on the red number with 13 missed calls on the screen. “She’ll do something about it.”

Karina’s even more outraged, then, staring at Ningning in disbelief. She tries to reach out for her friend’s phone, but the maknae pulls her hand away with a huff. “Why do you even have her number, anyway?”

Sure, you’d be at their presentation, even if it were at a nearby town, hours away from where they lived. Somehow, you always show up. The girls couldn’t even remember when it happened; all they know is that they played at Ningning’s cousin’s club once, and from then on there you were, accompanying them in every step. You took pictures, edited videos to upload on their YouTube channel, and even helped them get some gigs every once in a while. It’s difficult for the girls to understand the reason you spend so much time and effort with them— a broke, nugu band who’s been doing this for a little over a year, yet there you were. Their first and most faithful fan, ready to drop everything and help them with any situation, at any given time.

Just like now.

Nonetheless, they had agreed to keep you at an arm's distance, only so the lines wouldn’t get too blurry. With time, they got to know you better, and it was noticeable you were as spoiled, obsessive, and explosive as you were sweet and passionate about the things you liked.

Truth be told, you scared them a little.

“I thought we had agreed on not talking to the psycho anymore,” Minjeong commented, resting her head on the window.

Ningning pauses at that, muting herself on the phone for a moment before answering, straightforwardly. “Well, do you want to get there or not?”

Her honesty is harsh enough that Minjeong lifts her palms in surrender, while Karina and Giselle share a knowing look. Ning’s right, naturally —what matters is that they get to the club on time.

“Fine,” The blonde sighs, turning to point at Karina. “But you’ll have to handle that nightmare of a weirdo. Don’t let her freak out or anything, like she did last time.”

“Why do I always have to do it?” Karina pouts, rolling her eyes. “Come on! What the fuck.”

Giselle giggles, grateful that Karina can’t reach out to punch her as she nods. “I agree… it’s a leader’s duty.”

With her brows furrowed and her rosy lips, the oldest member of the band looks much like a doll, adorable in all of her mannerisms. Even when she scoffs, it doesn’t come out nearly as rude and intimidating as she intends it to be. She still looks like a painting, so pretty Ningning pokes her playfully, brushing the irritation out of Karina with her ticklish fingers. Once she’s left ticklish in her seat, Ningning drops her phone, done with her call.

“Y/n said she’ll be here soon.” She announces, and the girls hum faintly in response. It’s enough for her to giggle, reaching out for her bag in hopes of finding a snack. “Don’t be too excited, damn...”

“I just hope she doesn’t take long,” Giselle mutters, ignoring the glares she gets by being to blame for their current situation.

“Well, if someone had just passed their driving test, we wouldn’t—”

The Uchinaga turns to Winter so fast her neck makes a weird noise. “Shut the fuck up, Minjeong.” Her tone is full of mockery, which is dangerous. Giselle gets irritated easily, but it’s hard to get her mad. Whenever she does, though… None of the girls like that. “I don’t see you driving around either.”

Minjeong, who’d rather die than recognize she doesn’t excel at something, puts a hand on her chest with the comment. Her face is quickly filled with red and, in a minute, she’s defending herself as if she’s just received a 5-year sentence.

As much as their banter is entertaining, Ningning still clings onto Karina on the backseat, resting her head on her unnie’s shoulders.

“I do hope Y/n arrives soon.” She tells her friend, closing her eyes despite the noisy background.

Karina smiles, ruffling the maknae’s hair with tenderness as she relaxes beside the oldest. “Don’t worry, Ning. She will.”

If there’s something she’s sure of, is that you don’t play when it comes to their band. Be it for good or for worse.

—

“Hello, cuties.” You say, tapping your knuckles on the driver’s window to gather attention. It works: the girls all jump in their seats, cursing under their breaths as they try to gather themselves from the scare. “Your knight in shining armor has come! Hurry, hurry! You’re running late.”

It had been less than an hour since Ningning’s call, so there’s no way you could’ve reached them so quickly. None of them say those words out loud, of course— some questions are better left unanswered.

“Here comes the devil.” Minjeong mumbles. The smile she gives you is drenched in feigned politeness, yet yours is sincere, bluntly ignoring her grumpiness with a wave of your hand.

“Hi, Y/n.” Karina greets you as the four girls get out of the car. You hug each one of them energetically, clearly pleased to be urged to help.

It doesn’t even bother you that Giselle, Winter, and Ningning only mumble, not paying you much attention. If only, your happiness would take long to wear off.

Still swooning, you gesture to the van that’s parked beside their car where a handsome, baby-faced boy waves at the girls with ease.

“My brother won this van at a bet a few days ago, and fortunately, he lent it to us. It’s more fitting for a band anyway.” You gesture at their car, still explaining. “Gyu can take your stepdad’s car back to your house, Gigi. Don’t worry.”

They already know Beomgyu from the previous times he’s dropped you off at their rehearsals and shows, so it’s nothing new. Although Giselle doesn’t seem convinced about your idea, she reluctantly gives him the car keys anyway. There’s no other option; she can’t just leave the car on the road, even though giving it to a stranger makes her uneasy.

“Thank you, Beomgyu-ssi.” The girls bow at him, thankful for the extra space, to which he simply nods.

The girls are quick to transport the suitcases to the van, stretching their legs out as they sigh with contentment. It’s like they can finally breathe, now that they’re not cramped in a tiny space. Even Minjeong is smiling, her little banter with Giselle being long forgotten by now.

Giselle is in the passenger’s seat, this time, and she’s surprised to see how easy it is to talk to a happy Y/n. You laugh and gossip over other bands the girls come across sometimes, and you tell them the entire story of how Beomgyu actually got the van. Time flies by while you’re on the wheel, and soon enough the four girls find themselves at the back door of the club, fixing their instruments for the time they go on stage.

—

“Do you get all those insane takes with this old-ass camera?” Ning asks curiously, holding the straightener against her hair as she watches you record Winter, who’s busy tuning her bass and pretending you don’t exist.

“It’s vintage, unnie.” You correct her, zooming in on the blonde girl’s delicate hands and her precise movements against the cords. “It has amazing quality, still.” Because Ningning is still staring, clearly waiting for a more direct answer, you add, “Yes. Pretty Much. Hey Minjeongie, look at the camera so I can get a better shot of you.”

All Winter gives you is an irritated look as she scrunches her nose and shakes her head. The girls enjoy arriving early at their events so they’re able to gather a few minutes of quietude, strictly to relax and focus on not letting the nerves overcome their abilities to shine on stage. You know that— it’s something you’ve seen them do countless times before. You find it adorable how they’d just close their eyes and try to control their breaths, fingers tapping their thighs to ease the anxiety that always comes with the wait of going on stage. No matter how many times they perform, the thrill will always be the same.

Although you don’t mind interrupting Winter’s time of focusing at all. Seeing you won’t give in, Winter scoffs, dropping the bass onto her lap. “Be polite, Y/n. Say please.”

Her intentions are as obvious as daylight. She’s mocking you, defiant like the insufferable being she is. Out of the four girls, Minjeong is the most stubborn, and you’re much alike. She was the one you got into most arguments with, none of you backing down from the opportunity of being right.

Said banter is the reason you turn and adjust the camera focus to Ningning, instead of giving in to the blonde girl. Yizhuo looks pretty as always, smiling at you as you kneel to get a take of her from a better angle.

You’re immediately interrupted by the same girl who was irritated by your presence just seconds ago. In a blink, Winter’s hands go to your chin, forcing you to face her with an assertive grip. “No. Film me.” Her porcelain skin shines against her dark eyes, who pop out even more, making her intimidating aura stand out in the small room as she adds with an icy, commanding tone, “And have manners.”

God, you’d gladly take her down just to get rid of that cocky tone.

“Stare at the fucking camera so you can have some decent solo shots, Winter unnie.” Your reply comes immediately, tone dripping with venom, “Please.”

Winter’s face is so red you’re afraid she’s going to combust at any second. She never spares hurtful words during arguments, and you’re ready for her to give it all. Disaster is set to happen until Giselle pops her head backstage, looking for you. Her eyes disappear and her cheeks flare up as soon as she meets your face, breaking the tension with a smile once her presence unintentionally ends the small battle you were having with Winter.

“Y/n!” She calls, handing out her hand to help you stand up. “Could you come help us with the drums, please? The guys from the bar are trying, but they’re so damn useless… We need you.”

You look away and Winter’s grip on you fades, although her trimmed nails still scratch your jaw as she lets her hand fall to her sides and returns to the couch, tuning her bass as if she had never been interrupted.

“Sure, Gigi. Let’s go.” It’s impossible to not smile back, allowing yourself to be guided through the narrow stairs of the place until you arrive at the stage. You don’t bother saying goodbye to either Ningning or Winter, knowing you’re going back to them as soon as you’re done.

The two younger girls are left by themselves, in silence for the first time since you arrived to pick them up, hours ago. It’s unsettling yet peaceful; not uncomfortable by any means. They’ve known each other for too long by now, so being with each other is more than natural— it’s one’s absence that is unsettling.

After giving her hair a few finishing touches, Ningning turns to her bandmate, pulling the chair beside her as she gestures for Minjeong to sit. Its leather cover is torn and the comfort is long gone, but they don’t mind. They’ve performed in far more awful places anyway.

“Okay, I’m done! Be still while I do your makeup, now, unnie.” Minjeong does as told, closing her eyes while the maknae starts moisturizing her skin.

The silence has Winter’s mind replaying the previous banter nonstop. She tries to stay silent, but the memory of your petty smirk is enough to leave her fuming, pumping with rage.

“Can you believe her, Ning? That fucking bitch, ugh. She’s so insufferable.”

“Oh, definitely.” Ningning smiles, thankful Minjeong has her eyes closed. She lets out a small giggle, still focused on brushing the concealer through her friend’s face. “God forbid someone puts you in your place, right unnie?”

She nearly doesn’t escape the highlighter Minjeong throws in her direction, now laughing freely as she continues with her task.

—

Aespa is a band of many talents.

The girls all met during sophomore year of high school, all trapped in detention for the day (as much as Minjeong would rather die than admit she’s ever gotten detention in her life). Even though they differ in personalities, in a clear contrast of cultures, manners, and experiences — their differences somehow added to each other until there wasn’t something missing anymore. The feeling of longing and loneliness that had accompanied them for so many years had finally ceased. After that, the girls found themselves at peace: the world was finally silent, as long as they were together. No matter how chaotic it was, Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning knew they’d like nothing else but to be together.

Luckily, they all shared two main passions: the love for music and the desire for attention, so being in a band together was something that happened rather naturally. The members all agreed, then, that Karina should be the leader. She was soft-spoken, calm, and had the experience in the industry the others lacked, from being a child model. It was the right decision: the oldest would do anything to protect her girls, and knew just the right people to ask for opportunities. They weren’t famous, nor did they make enough money to live off exclusively from the music, but it was enough, for now.

They had trouble understanding you, though. It was hard to grasp why on earth would they have someone so faithful, so committed to following their every move when they weren’t even famous? They didn’t have money, influence, or anything to offer you whatsoever. Yet you were always there, giving them your endless support without asking for anything in exchange. You could be a handful sometimes, sure, but still… your commitment was something that left the girls constantly wondering.

Because you’re special. The world will see this too, someday. is what you’d always answer, followed by a giggle and a wave of your hand, muttering about how it all wasn’t that big of a deal.

But as Giselle watches you help them relocate their instruments and set the tripods and cameras straight, she wonders if that’s truly it.

“Hey, Gigi.” You smile at her, looking down at the ground once you realize you’re the object of her piercing, focused gaze. “Are you and the other girls ready to go? Everything’s in order here.”

Now isn’t the time for that, though, Aeri reminds herself. As of now, the only thing she should focus on is her upcoming stage. Music is one of the many things she was strict with: she pushed herself to nothing but perfection, no matter where she was performing.

The other girls are quick to follow your call, grabbing their instruments and getting into their starter positions as they’ve done countless times before. They all adjust their mics to the perfect height until Karina is the only one left in the center, tapping hers to make sure she sounds loud and clear. Ningning’s hands fiddle with her drumsticks nervously, paddling along with her whole body— surely from the energy drinks she’s had minutes before, while Minjeong and Giselle stay each on one side of the stage, waiting for their leader’s cue.

Offering free tickets for those who arrived before 11 PM was a great strategy that many clubs implemented to fill up their spaces. And even though you’re well aware the girls are known enough to gather such a crowd without that stunt, you’re glad to have a full house staring at the small stage with expectation.

Karina waits until you’re done with your camera’s finishing touches up to speak, her voice echoing through the noise so easily that your hands stop adjusting the device’s focus to pay attention to her. With a smile so big her eyes grow small, her face is like a beacon, gathering all the focus to herself without the need for a spotlight.

“Goodnight! I’m Karina, and those are my bandmates: Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning.” She points to each of her friends, who bow and wave excitedly, still waiting for her cue. “And we’re AESPA! We hope you like our music, we’ve worked hard on our songs! Please enjoy.”

With that, Ningning taps on her drumsticks, as they’ve done countless times before. Minjeong’s bass and Giselle’s guitar sync with Karina’s voice as soon as they start playing, the melody echoing through the place like physical particles. Music is more than just a part of their lives: it’s who they are, how they express themselves, what they breathe, and it’s easy to forget they’re at a shitty pub and not at a fancy festival. As long as their voices and instruments are harmonizing together, the girls get lost in their passion and nothing else matters.

Even though they’re a new group— barely a year into the industry, original songs are not something that lack from their setlist. The public is screaming, the girls are jumping as they sing and dance along the rhythm and you try your best to capture their best angles, but the distraction in the form of a sin that is Karina prevents you from doing a good job. Her dark eyes glow in the dark, giving her an angelic aura as her strong voice reverberates through the place with ease, despite her shitty mic. It’s an impressive crowd they’re performing for, but she’s only staring at you. Preventing you to breathe or even move, afraid she’d lose her interest and look elsewhere.

No, you’d have none of that. Like all the girls, Karina was yours: you’d share her utter attention with no one.

So you stay at the front line, with your hands holding onto the camera as your head is held up in a frozen frame, looking at her.

You’d always look at her.

—

The afterparties are always one of the girls’ favorite events. The adrenaline rush is still present, giving them tons of energy to drink and party with strangers. They are constantly showered with compliments, being pampered, and indulged with all the attention they crave. It’s part of the reasons why they deal with music, obviously: Minjeong, Giselle, Ningning, and Karina. Because the desire to be seen and recognized for their music is a feeling they’ve been looking for ever since they can remember.

And that’s exactly what they were indulging in before hearing a loud crack from outside of the backstage room. The noise, followed by a bunch of ugly screams, startles the four girls, who exchange a quick, worried glance before storming down straight into the sideway alley.

“Damn.” Ningning whistles, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the smile coming from her lips. At her side, Minjeong and Karina are equally shocked and frozen at the scene unraveling in front of them.

People usually use the dark alley to smoke and get a break from the noisy, heated space of the club. Instead, the four girls find a huddle of girls so entwined with one another it’s hard to tell how many there are. Four, maybe five? Of them are vividly screaming, kicking, tugging, and pulling hairs. Despite the mess, the girls realize there’s one that keeps beating the shit out of them, which is impressive due to being gravely outnumbered.

As the commotion stops for seconds once the strangers become aware of the newer company, it’s easier to tell a specific head of honey hair apart from the others.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Minjeong’s murmur doesn’t come off nearly as disappointed as she intends to. If anything, she’s also holding back her laughter while you prove that one does not need that many muscles to win off a fight.

“Go Y/n!” Karina claps, cheering. None of the three girls make any move towards the scene, so Giselle turns her head towards them in disbelief.

The Japanese girl shrugs, quickly making her way onto the ground to break off the fight. She’s always been strong, and her time spent at the gym pays off as she grabs you by the waist and throws you over her shoulder, heading back to the backstage room as if you weigh nothing. Any attempts of resisting are useless, yet you don’t make Giselle’s job any easier— your kicking and screaming are now directed at her, hands curling into fists while you use your entire strength to hit her muscled back.

“Put me DOWN! I’m not done with those whores.” Your feverish voice is ignored by the four girls, who are used to your tantrums by now.

They know you’re naturally provocative, and never one to back down from a fight, even if you were in the wrong. And, somehow, you were good at it too: even if you left bruised and scratched, your opponents would somehow always turn out worse.

“Sorry ladies, we have some issues to deal with. If you excuse us.” As the group goes back inside, Ningning offers the poor beaten-up girls a calculated smile before closing the door on their faces. She doesn’t bother to check in on them— they’re strangers, after all.

You’re thrown onto the worn-out sofa with little care, suddenly staring at four serious faces. The funny atmosphere of the fight is long gone, so you cross your arms under your chest and grunt, face held high to put up with their judgmental looks.

This is their job, and they can’t have you causing trouble over anything. You’re associated with them by now, whether they like it or not. It’d be an awful occurrence.

“So, troublemaker, tell us.” Giselle is the first to speak, brushing the bangs out of her face. Even after carrying you for solid minutes, she still looks flawless, much different from your disheveled self. “What had you beating their asses out there?”

There’s a pout on your lips, and the defiant air in the room stirs up their nerves. It’s an annoying interruption of the fun they were having just now, and the alcohol makes it hard for them to stay patient.

Minjeong takes half a step forward, her hands messing up your hair even more. “Speak, Y/n. We have better things to do.”

She doesn’t coddle you, tone cold as it always was when directed towards you, but you don’t mind. If anything, you take pride in making her life a bit more difficult every time. You know they won’t give you their attention for much longer, though, which is why you take a deep sigh.

“I was defending your honor, you idiots!” You gesticulate towards the door, huffing. “Those whores were out there, talking about you, speaking the most vile things… I had to do something. You should be thanking me, and not look so pissed.” You roll your eyes, muttering the rest to yourself as you sink on the dirty couch. “You never acknowledge anything I do anyway.”

It had felt too hot inside, so you passed the backstage area to gather some fresh air at the alley when you encountered the group of girls. They were in love with the band, obviously, and were very vocal about the things they’d let the girls do to them: how their leather clothes were so tight and how hot they were… Hearing such things being said about your girls made your blood boil. They were yours, and no one else had the right to desire them like that. So you were quick to take action and make sure everyone knew who Giselle, Winter, Karina, and Ningning belonged to. As a matter of fact, It was a successful attempt: after the lesson you taught them, those girls would think twice before saying anything again.

Your gaslighting does little to the band; it’s easy to look further into your façade now that they know you. They don’t pity you in the slightest, well aware you’re one to be cautious around.

Karina smiles at your act. She can’t help it if the pout on your lips makes you so adorable, and your crossed arms are the reason your send nudes crop top rides up so your boobs are even more evident. “Which things, Y/n? What were they saying, exactly?”

“What they said doesn’t matter.” You huff, dismissing Karina’s question with a wave of your hand. “The important thing is that they’ve been dealt with, and your honor is intact. You’re welcome.”

The electronic music is loud, and it’s easy to feel the rhythm reverberating through the furniture, sending electric waves to your bones that rile you up even more. You’re energized, ready to go back to the crowd, drink, smoke, and stir up some trouble again.

Aeri must’ve been thinking the same thing since she merely shakes her head and leaves without a word. Ning is the next one to follow, proceeded by Minjeong, who rolls her eyes and points her finger right at your face.

“You’re such a menace, Y/n. Acting like an animal… you can’t behave at all.” You’re used to the disdain in her voice, so the only thing you do is mirror her snobbish stare as you watch her leave.

Unlike her bandmate, Karina’s eyes are kind— even though you’ve just messed up hard. You’re the only ones left in the room, you realize, as she holds out her hand to you. With her presence, the music ceases, and the only thing you can focus on is the sound of her heartbeat, and how her little chin mole goes up to match her smile, which is equally sweet.

Sweet, patient, and definitely too good for you: that’s Karina, a soul that should stay untouched, not yet ruined by the world and by other people.

Too bad that you’ve never been one to do the right thing.

You navigate towards her in a magnetic motion, taking her help so fast your bodies nearly crash once you get up from the couch. Instead of complaining or making fun of you for being so abrupt, Karina takes her free hand to your face, cupping your cheek before carefully wiping the dirt from your skin.

“Troublemaker.” She repeats Giselle’s words from earlier, although they sound almost reverent when said in her raspy voice, tired from the crazy routine they live with. “She’s a bit right, don’t you think?” The smirk on her lips is playful, and she toys with you. “You keep us on our toes, for sure. I guess someone has to.”

She doesn’t mind. If anything, Karina misses your presence when you’re gone— which is thankfully, a rare occasion. Sure, you’re stubborn, spoiled, and very annoying, but the band somehow needs you to keep their engines running. She knows the other girls feel the same way about you too, even if they’re good at not making it known.

Being with Karina feels right. She’s Aespa’s peace, their leader, and their oldest member. And, just like everybody that has ever met her, you long to be around the older girl.

“Let’s go back to the party, Jimin unnie.” You tell her, crossing your arms behind her neck. If there’s anything she’d want you to do, you would. Gladly. “I want to dance.”

She smiles back at you, looking at the half-open door before nodding. “As you wish, Y/n.”

—

Aespa’s hotel room for the night is precarious, to say the least. The wallpaper is peeling from the walls, the furniture is dusty— and the small dining table seems to barely handle your laptop and media equipment. The bed makes too many weird noises at the slightest movement, and the smell of mold is a bit unsettling for those with a decent sense of smell.

It’s Minjeong’s job to deal with their spending and to book their stays, whenever the band wanders off their hometown. Her father works as a treasurer at a well-established company and has taught her how to handle her own money from a young age. Sometimes, though, she tends to spend too little, given the fact that they still did not earn much with their performances, and the five girls would end up in situations like the current one. Not that they truly minded: they had two rooms to sleep in and breakfast by the morning, which was more than enough. They would handle the rest.

Karina, Giselle, Ningning, and Minjeong are all rockstars, it’s natural for them to thrive under attention. They live for it, and you love to record their pretty faces. Out of all the experiences of being with the girls, getting to take pictures and videos of their performances and looks— be it before, during, or after their shows. Editing might also be a pain and sometimes feel like a chore, but it was also something you enjoyed doing.

Besides, the praises and the proud, enamored look Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Minjeong gave you whenever you updated something new to their channel and social media was something you looked forward to, naturally. In fact, you’re so focused on your task that you barely notice a sudden wave of hot breath on your shoulder.

“How far are you, yet?” Karina’s wet hair clings to your neck as you breathe in her post-bath scent, so refreshing. You’re unable to see her sulk behind you, but her whiny tone is enough for you to figure her feelings out before she adds, “Also, why am I the one with the least videos, Y/n?”

You don’t even stop your work to look at the vocalist, who stares at your laptop’s screen with expectation: the answer is obvious to anyone who has ever had the privilege of getting to know Aespa's leader."

“Because I’m always too busy looking at you to focus on anything else.” The words leave your mouth immediately, exposing facts. “But I’ll improve for next time if that’s what you wish.”

Doing anything after Karina opens her mouth is impossible. Her angelic voice and sharp moves draw all the attention to her immediately; one would be completely insane to not be mesmerized by her. By all of her.

“It is.” She nods, still so close you’re able to feel her body pressed against you through the chair’s cracks. Like a kitten, Karina purrs, finally breaking the tension between you by pressing small, wet kisses to your neck. “Y/n…”

You’re doomed. You’ve known that ever since she left the bathroom, with wet hair and red, swollen lips that did little to hide what she was up to while the shower was running.

Karina’s long, purple-painted nails scratch your neck, forcing you to pay attention to her— as if you’d do anything else. You’re quick to comply, closing your laptop as you stand up and walk away from the oldest member, onto your backpack. Her confused brows are adorable, but the realization comes soon once she reckons the camera on your hands. By then, there’s a dirty smirk on both of your lips; you know she loves this as much as you do.

“Are you up for another show, doll?”

Karina nods, suddenly shy from all the dirty thoughts going through her head. Her skin throbs, and there’s a familiar sensation building up in her core from the anticipation.

After waiting for the camera to be well adjusted and centered in front of the bed, with the familiar red dot announcing the recording, she turns around, removing her robe with practiced ease. The silk fabric of her robe cascades from her back, exposing her milky skin in its most perfect form. She’s indeed like a doll; body still untouched, announcing it’s been a while since she’s had any fun, and her Venus dimples flare up with every step she takes towards the bed. Her curves are perfectly enhanced by her sensual walk— she knows so, grabbing her hair out of the way so you’re able to get a clear shot of her body.

You’re so lucky to even have the privilege of looking at her. Karina seems to think the same thing; her knowing smile turns malicious just as she sits on the bed, spreading her legs out for your delight. Playing around with her is almost a routine, by now: Karina needs something, someone to be her stress-relief, and you’re more than eager to help.

However, seeing her bare and so eager to welcome your touch was something you’d crave forever. No matter how many times it happened: you’d always be hungry for the slightest glimpse of her pretty pussy.

And it was no secret that Karina loved to show off, so you drink on her like you haven’t had a single drop of liquor in ages.

It had indeed been too long.

“How do I look, baby?” Her voice is soft, calm as she looks deep inside your eyes and taps on her pussy with two of her fingers. A small strand of wetness lingers between her fingers and her slit, and she takes her fingers forward to make a show for seconds longer. It’s only when the strand dissipates that Karina brings her fingers into her mouth, taking them in ever so naturally. You don’t even register the whine that comes from your lips once she releases them with a ‘bop’, right after licking them clean.

“Absolutely stunning.” Your answer comes in a heartbeat, which pleases her deeply. In a blink, you’re in front of her on the bed, although still careful to not cover up her frame for the camera. Not that you have to worry about that; Karina is well aware of her best angles. “As always.” You lick your lips, eager to have your mouth on her, licking every part of her body until she’s more than satisfied, coated with your saliva.

But you know better than to touch her without permission, so you simply wait, aware she needs more indulgence than merely a few words. You run your hands up and down her legs, ever so obedient, hoping she’ll allow you to touch her.

Instead, her fingers go up to her chest, groping her big, voluptuous breasts. She’s so evil— Karina knows how obsessed you are with her boobs, “You caused so much trouble today, Y/n… I shouldn’t let you touch me at all.”

Her feigned innocence only adds to your desire, dampening your pussy even more. Even though you’re burning up, you can’t help but be in awe by how much of a goddess she looks, and it takes everything in you to not just grab her by the ankles and suck on her clit until she was screaming and leaking white from her pussy. Still staring at you, Karina twists her nipples and moans, biting her lip as she breathes in deeply.

You’re already throbbing yourself, and she’s done nothing. That’s the amount of power she has over you.

“I’ve been bad.” You nod almost eagerly, ready to do whatever she commands you to if it means you’ll get to pleasure her. “Can I still have you, though? Promise to make you feel super good.”

At first look, Karina might be the most inviting one out of all of the girls, but you know better than to fall into her trap: just like her bandmates, the leader thrives on playing games, manipulating people, and fooling around. Thankfully to both you and her, you’re happy to indulge in all of her wishes. So you add, battling your lashes at her as you take off your clothes yourself, not bothering for a command on this matter. “I’ll do my best for unnie…”

Karina’s eyes darken at the sight of your naked body; it’s so empowering to know she’s just as affected by you, and she runs her fingers through your hair with practiced ease. Taking her silence as an encouragement, you lie down until your face is lined up with her soaked cunt, blowing warm, rapid breaths onto her sex.

She smiles, then, caressing your cheek before giving it a light tap. “Go get the strap, baby.” Your smile fades immediately, and you contemplate ignoring her words until she’s changed your mind before your cheek is met with more of Karina’s fingers, her touch stronger this time. “Now.”

You huff, muttering incoherences because she’s such a bitch, ruining all of your plans, but still do as told, grabbing the strap without much further fussing. With the toy in hands, you return to the edge of the bed, staring at her with a puzzled look on your face.

“Are you going to use it?” You ask, curious. Taking Karina’s cock was something you always looked forward to, and the sight of her pounding onto you was enough for your walls to clench, eager to welcome her.

Karina launches forward before you even finish your question, grabbing your thighs with practiced ease as her fingers brush your pussy. The surprise touch makes you let out a loud moan, which stirs up a laugh on the older girl.

“If only you’d behaved today… I had so many things planned for us to do.” Karina’s voice sounds almost regretful, making you kneel once again, “No, baby. Tonight’s only about me. Now suck.”

There’s little time for you to think her thoughts through. Your mind goes blank, and you open your mouth to give her a show this time, reversing the roles. Always eager to please, you gag on her cock. Saliva drips onto the sheets as she shoves it down your throat, but you don’t seem to care, emptying your mind to give her will over you to use you like a toy. She’s not sweet or slow by any means— Karina’s innocent smile, welcoming posture, and puppy-like personality make a good disguise for hiding how dirty she is. Part of her tells herself it’s wrong, and that’s why she tries to reject how much her body craves rougher actions, but the truth is that the hiding and the expectation also turn her on.

Those thoughts hover in your mind as you bob on her strap, looking at the leader through your lashes while you gather all your focus on giving your best for her. You try to look your best, and give your best for Aespa’s leader: she deserves nothing less, after all. It seems to be enough for Karina, who sighs at the sight of you staring from behind your lashes with your hair all over the place ever since her tangling hands went to your scalp, encouraging you to keep going for so long you’ve lost track of time.

“Beautiful. You look so beautiful like this, baby.” She murmurs with a low, sultry tone as she takes the strap from your mouth and seals your lips in a slow kiss. You’re starved for her; your boobs press together when you deepen the kiss, desperate for more. At this point you’re already soaked, leaving a deep, wet spot on the sheets— and your skin burns. “Don’t be rude. Say thank you.”

Such a tease, she is. You roll your eyes at her trying to rile you up, and she laughs. “Don’t even.” You mutter, rolling your eyes at her.

Karina’s hands go to your thighs, caressing your skin as she motions for you to get up once again. “You’re so stubborn.” She chants, adjusting the strap on you. Per her request, you lay back on the bed as soon as you’re done, somehow managing to sink under the shallow pillows.

There’s such a mean smirk dancing around her lips. Your cunt aches and it’s borderline painful; sweat covers your body and you’re nearly sure you’ll go insane if you don’t give her all the pleasure she’s worthy of very soon. All you want is to eat her out until she’s breathless, porcelain skin all marked begging for you to stop. Then, you’d lick her clean, making her cum so many times there’d be plenty of milk dripping from her hole for you to drink on. All yours. She’s all yours to tend to.

“Why don’t you just let me do it already…” You whine, drawing your head back when she grabs one of your nipples and twists— the friction feels so good it sends a hit of pleasure straight to your pussy.

Instead of indulging your needs, Karina laughs, and there’s a hidden mockery in her tone that only adds to your frustration. She comes close until her hips rest on your thighs, with the strap being the only thing that keeps a distance between you. Before you’re able to test her patience even more, she positions the dick on her entrance, slightly rocking back and forth so it hits deliciously against her clit.

“You can look.” She says, grabbing your shoulders to steady herself. “But you can’t touch. Understood, baby?”

Karina’s eyes, big and expressive, stare at you with feigned innocence as one of her hands caresses your jaw, lifting your face so you’d stare at her. Having her making such luscious sounds so close to you is like a death penalty. Karina’s mouth hangs slightly open, and you gulp whenever she aligns the fake dick with her entrance, giving you a serious look that makes it clear that she expects an answer to her command.

A huge bitch, she is. A hot, sexy, and huge bitch. It’s nearly impossible to stay still, but you can see the challenge in her eyes as soon as she cocks her head at you. Although her little act of defiance is silent, her intentions are as clear as day: she wants you to humiliate yourself: to beg for forgiveness so you’ll maybe get granted the privilege of touching her.

So you smile back, placing your hands on your hips and doing nothing else, even if you’re itching to run your tongue all over her body. “As you wish, unnie.”

Karina is so wet, of course she is— it’s not hard to leave her drenched. The dick slides in easily, and she takes her time with taking down its inches. Your grip on her hips turns slightly stronger at the sight of her looking so angelical, as her big, soft boobs are all in display to your face. That earns you a censoring look, and you move your hands with another eye-roll. There's nothing more you want but to touch her.

After a few breaths, Karina finds a steady pace, bouncing on your lap. The gushing sounds of her pussy that echo through the room are nearly pornographic, and you find yourself letting out desperate whimpers, too.

“So good.” She murmurs, lost in pleasure. Her grip on your shoulders tightens, and you feel her muscles tensing up.

You can’t help it— watching her pleasure herself is almost too much. Without much thinking, your fingers make their way to her clit, circling her hardened as you study her, testing out the waters. She lets out a gasp at the sensation, closing her eyes to enjoy the way her lower abdomen kept building up the tension. The tingling sensation increases with the rhythm of your strokes, along with her moves, and it doesn’t take much further for Karina to cum.

Just as always, Karina’s strong voice fills the room as she takes her head back, clenching her pussy once the waves of pleasure hit her with strong motions. Her entire body trembles, and she relies on you to keep her steady.

“You look the prettiest when you cum.” You tell her, after a few moments of silence.

The laugh she lets out is weak, more like a giggle as Karina sighs deeply, carelessly throwing herself on your side of the bed. She turns to you, then, so close your noses are nearly touching, disregarding your words as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “And you can’t ever behave, can you?”

You mirror her smirk, pecking her lips before shaking your head. “You like it that way, though.”

The two of you stay in a comfortable silence, one you don’t mind at all. The girls have had some busy, tiring weeks, and you know Karina needs rest. She’s tired—they all are, so the tension relief was well welcomed by the oldest girl. Despite being all sweaty and breathless, Karina is much less anxious now that you’ve helped her relax. She runs her fingers through your body, taking her time until she reaches your pussy. It delights her to feel how soaked you are: she’s aware of the amount of power she holds over you, and the fact that you’re gulping, still throbbing yourself, is something so empowering to her.

It makes her insides tingle all over again, asking for more.

“Jimin…” You whine again, opening your legs to give the girl better access to your entrance. You need her to touch you or else you’ll explode.

Two of her fingers enter your cunt before you can cry any further, hitting a fast pace without warning. The action is well welcomed, and you hold her wrist, motioning to go further. But Karina loves to make you frustrated; it’s almost as if she thrives on it: just like they made their way inside, her fingers are gone, and her mean smirk is back.

“You haven’t behaved at all today.” She repeats herself, laughing as she kisses your pout away. You bite her lip in response, which makes her pull your face away, although she’s still giggling. “You’ll get nothing tonight, baby. I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes at her, “You’re such a fucking liar! You’re not sorry at all!”

Karina turns her back to you, making a show of ignoring you as she grabs the covers just as a big yawn hits her. “Goodnight to you too, pretty. Sleep tight,” You roll your eyes, ready to give her a sneaky remark when she adds, “Oh, and don’t forget to turn off the camera. We don’t want you running out of battery or anything, do we?”

“You’re such a bitch.” Although you still get up and do as told, knowing she’s partially right.

Karina waits patiently for you to return to bed, with her small eyes and big smile. The sensuality and roughness from earlier have been replaced by her usual bubbly self, which you adore just as much. It has always been amusing to you how easily it is for her to just switch back and forth from the luscious, gorgeous woman she is to her puppy personality, and you adore her either way.

You hop into her arms, humming when she fills your neck with small, wet kisses.

“You have to behave, silly.” Is what she tells you, biting your skin gently. You’re one to bruise easily, you both know it as much. However, you say nothing, allowing her to do as she pleases. “Otherwise you won’t get a reward.”

“We’ll see about that.” You murmur, happy to get lost in her cuddles. “I sure need something after that torture session.”

Your words cause you to be pushed back, although you know Karina’s only joking.“Oh my God! Go to sleep, Y/n. Goodnight.”

“Ugh.” Is all you answer, closing your arms around her waist.

“Y/n.”

“Right, right.” You sigh, “Goodnight, cutie. Can I get a kiss?”

The hand that goes through your face is enough of an answer.

“Sleep. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow.” She commands.

And because it’s Karina, you obey. You’d always hail the band’s leader.

Your personal camgirl.

—

Breakfast has always been something you’d skip if you could. It’s a pain to wake up so early, and you need at least an hour to be somewhat presentable and another two until you can properly talk to anyone. However, the soon you leave this shitty hotel the better, so you resume sitting beside Giselle and Ningning while they talk excitedly. You chew on your bread with scrambled eggs with perhaps too much patience, still marveling at how composed they look despite running on 5 hours of sleep.

“So, we’ve got good news. Amazing news, actually. Like, the greatest news ever.” Ningning’s nearly jumping in her seat, her eyes darting from you, then Giselle, Minjeong, and finally to Karina multiple times in seconds. Yizhuo plays with her hands, nudging Karina while nearly dying of anxiety. “Unnie, would you please tell them? Go, go.”

The excitement in her tone captures enough of your attention; you, Giselle, and Minejong collectively sit up straighter, exchanging a confused look. The fact that they know as little as you do is comforting, and stirs up a nice, warm feeling of being included within your heart. The girls could be harsh and a little mean sometimes, naturally, but there are times when they’re also very sweet.

Karina laughs, pinching Ning’s cheeks. Even though Ningning pretends she despises it, you love to baby her and spoil her rotten.

“You can do it, Ning.” She encourages her baby girl to speak up, loving the smile that brightens up the maknae’s lips after the command. “Go ahead, tell them what we’re doing next.”

With her leader’s blessing, Ningning lets out a happy squeal and launches herself upwards. The upper half of her body hangs on the breakfast table as she looks around before whispering as if the topic is top-secret.

“So, this guy approached me after our show.” She stops abruptly at your reactions, waving her hands, “Hey, don’t make such faces! He wasn’t a weirdo or anything, I promise. Anyway, he came up and said he worked for AKT Music Ent. and that he liked our music and thought we had potential.” Ningning pauses, looking up to her leader for reassurance. Once Karina nods, giving her a knowing smile, she adds, “And then I told him to talk to Karina, of course, because she’s our leader and all… but basically, he invited us to compete at The Box, next month. Can you believe it?”

“You’re fucking with us.” Minjeong answers, in awe. She looks at Karina, with her mouth still slightly open in shock. “Please tell me you’re serious. That this isn’t a joke or anything.”

Karina has a proud look on her face as she nods. “It’s a thing. We’re doing it.”

“HELL YES!” Giselle screams, laughing loudly. She reaches out her arms and squeezes you and Ningning in a tight hug, her embrace so strong it’s borderline suffocating. Not that you mind— if anything, it fills you with warmth to be with them in their first big accomplishment. “WE’RE PLAYING IN THE BOX! OH MY FUCKING GOD. WE ARE AMAZING!”

Minjeong and Karina laugh at her reaction, just as happy from the news. Taking part in the event is an amazing opportunity for them: the mere thought of performing at the stage is enough to give them goosebumps, both of fear and excitement.

The Box is a week-long competition where the top 3 winners get a 2-year long contract, each signed with one of the Big 3 music companies of the country: SM, JYP or YG. It’s an elite program where successful bands have gained popularity and recognition, like SNSD. It’s set at a big, open area at the countryside and held much like a festival: the event has become more and more capitalized with every passing year. The companies make sure to hold a big show out of the entire thing, broadcasting the events that happen simultaneously 24/7— numerous interviews, commercials are shot by the participants to support the sponsors of the competition, which helps them to make their debut on national television. There are various foods, restaurants and parties being held at all times. It’s also a great opportunity for fans of nugu bands to personally interact with them, and actually super nice to meet other bands and artists. Besides the main goal, being at the event alone is a huge honor and opportunity for the band to grow as artists. They certainly won’t take for granted.

Minjeong claps excitedly. “We need to celebrate!”

“Absolutely.” Giselle agrees, looking with disgust at the men who kept sitting at the nearby tables even though it was still fairly early, and the Diner was still empty. “At home, though. Let’s get out of here, please.”

The five of you exchange a knowing look, collectively getting up at the same time as you grab your belongings and hurry to leave the shitty hotel. Your hearts are filled with pride, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

“You deserve this.” Is what you tell them, breaking the steady silence that reigned in the car. The girls look at you, all returning from dreamland.

Even though their only response is a faint hum, the satisfaction on their faces tells you they needed to hear that. “This is only a result of your hard work. All the hours of practice, the shitty-ass places you played at before, the No’s you’ve gotten… It’s going to work out, trust me.”

Karina’s arms go to your neck, in a gentle caress as she adds, looking at her bandmates. Her best friends. “Y/n is right. We got this.”

There’s nothing they can’t do, as long as they’re together.