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hyunniesgirl · 5 months

Text

I wanna be yours

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.

Or, the one where Chan is a cocky asshole who's going out with you just for fun and ends up falling in love.

Slightly inspired in the movie 10 things I hate about you.

Genres: angst, smut, fluff

Words count: 10,991

Masterlist

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!

Warnings: Corruption kink(kinda), dry humping, fingering, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, pet names(princess, baby), Chan is cocky as fuck(and I'm here for it, stan cocky Bangchan), reader gets kinda insecure close to the end(let me know if I missed something)

A/N: should I be answering my requests or updating my series? Yes, did I spend too much time in a super long self indulgent oneshot? I did. It was supposed to be just smut with corruption kink 😭 turns out I can't write the porn without the plot.

It all started as a game for him. He just didn't guess how much you would mess with his head.

Bang Chan doesn't care much about college, with a promising career in music, he's just attending classes so his parents won't nag him too much.

That means he's bored all the time.

So when Jeongin, his youngest friend, begged him to win his girlfriend's sister over and date her for a bit, he almost accepted right away, yearning for some fun. But he didn't, not before knowing who you were.

That's how he ended up here, trying to find you in the middle of communication class. He didn't need to look too much, from Jeongin’s description, he could find you in the blink of an eye.

“A pretty girl, probably wearing black or some neutral color and she'll probably be in a corner. She's very shy, when you speak to her don't be too straightforward, you may scare her”

The way Jeongin described you didn't show any ill intent and he was always a good guy, that's why Chan considered accepting his offer in the first place. He must have his reasons for almost kneeling in front of his friend, asking for him to date you.

Chan sits behind you, observing every movement you make. You're indeed pretty and you really are shy. He notices how you want to raise your hand every time the professor asks a question, but you always hesitate and someone speaks over you. Every time you try to speak, some rude person cuts you and instead of getting mad, your face turns red and you shrink in your seat, trying to make yourself even more invisible.

There's something about you, Chan can't tell what it is, but it's something amusing about how you behave. Someone like you could have every guy in this university wrapped around your little finger and every girl wanting to be your friend.

As soon as the class ends, Chan sends a text to Jeongin, telling him he will do it. He doesn't waste time, waiting for everyone to get out of the classroom while you're still collecting your things.

“Hey”, he says out of nowhere, making you jump and look at him with huge doe eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you”.

He kinda did want that, though, curious to see how you would react, he thought maybe you would raise your voice and curse him, but you reacted as calmly as possible.

“It's okay”, you mumble.

You keep organizing your things, trying to ignore his presence.

“So, I wanted to ask if you can let me borrow your notes”, he asks, making puppy eyes.

You turn back to him and Chan can almost see the gears turning inside your head.

“Why does he want my notes if he just attended the same class?” It's written all over your face.

“I pulled an all nighter studying for another class and kind of dozed off earlier”, he lies, smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him for a bit, pondering if you should say yes, actually, let's be real: can you even say no?

This is Bang Chan, handsome and popular, everyone knows him and the other two guys from 3racha. The last you heard, he didn't care much about classes since he's already progressing in his music career so you still don't understand why he wants to borrow your notes.

“Yeah, okay”, you nod, deciding to agree so this conversation can be over soon. You pull your notebook out of your bag and hand it to him. “Just make sure to give it back by next class”

“Sure, thanks”, he gives you a big bright smile that makes you gulp while staring at him, just a few minutes in his presence and you already know something very important: this man is dangerous.

You look around awkwardly, not knowing what Chan wants more. He's just standing there, staring at you.

“I'll get going then”, you sigh, feeling exhausted by this whole interaction.

You turn around, walking to the door, leaving Chan there, dumbstruck. Jeongin was right, you have no social skills, but you're much more entertaining than he made you out to be.

—

You're having lunch with Yuna, your sister, and Jeongin, her boyfriend, in the cafeteria. You like spending time with them, they are probably the only people you feel comfortable around in this university.

You met Jeongin three months ago. Your sister came home giggling like a child on Christmas, sat on your bed and told you she got a boyfriend.

You ran to your door, closing it after checking that your parents weren't around. There's only one rule in the house: your younger sister must not date before you do.

Your parents are not conservative or anything like that, they just had you two later than other parents, so they are very overprotective. You don't know exactly the reason why they set this rule, maybe it's because they are sure you're never going to date.

Yuna is your best friend, she was a sickly child so all those interactions and fights that normal sisters have, you didn't. You spent most of her childhood and a huge part of yours by her side in the hospital. Fortunately, she was able to go back to a normal life by the time she was becoming a teenager, she was always a social butterfly even in the hospital everyone loved her.

You always thought it was unfair that she had to wait to have a boyfriend simply because you are not interesting enough or can't even hold a conversation properly without stuttering, but there was nothing you could do about it. You even tried arguing with your parents about it but it always ended with them telling you to forget about it.

You see Jeongin waving to someone, something is off, they never invite anyone to eat with them. A tray is settled by your side and you look at the person who sits in the seat next to yours: Bang Chan.

“Hello again”, he smiles at you, a handsome smile with dimples showing and everything. He greets the others after.

You look at Yuna and Jeongin, she is frowning just like you and her boyfriend is eating like this is an ordinary situation in your daily lunch.

“Hi”, you sister answers, “I don't think we met before”

“Oh, yeah, I'm Bang Chan!” He stretches his hand so she can shake it. “Jeongin is an old friend and I have communication class with y/n”

“Ah”, she nods, looking at her boyfriend. You stay in silence, playing with your food, waiting for Jeongin to send Bang Chan away.

“Babe, I forgot I have a project due tonight”, Jeongin says, slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead. He stands up, “can you help me? Chan will keep y/n company.”

No. You don't want him to keep you company. Your eyes widen and you stare at your sister, trying to send her a mental signal so she won't let you alone with him.

What you don't see, it's that she has already caught up on the way Bang Chan is looking at you and she might think she understands what's happening.

“Okay, yeah. Take care of her”, your sister says, smiling apologetically to you while she gets up and follows Jeongin out of your sight.

You should just throw your food away and go to the library, maybe you can eat a sandwich.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You hear Bang Chan's voice before you can put your plan into practice, turning around to look at him with the most terrified face he ever saw on someone. “Ouch, does the idea scare you so much?” He jokes.

“Why would you want to go on a date with me? We just met yesterday”, you point out, holding yourself back so you won't just stand up and run away.

“I find you interesting, it's just a date so we can get to know each other better”, he shrugs. He's so nonchalant about it, while you're freaking out inside.

“I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not good at keeping conversations, you'll get bored”, you say frantically. You just didn't expect him to laugh.

“I can do all the talking, I love to talk"

Chan knows this move is risky and there's a high probability you won't accept, but he just felt like asking you at that moment.

“Are you sure you won't get bored?” You ask.

His eyes widen and he nods, are you really considering it?

You are, obviously. You bet no one could ever guess, but Bang Chan is your ideal type, actually he is probably everyone's ideal type.

He has the kindest smile you have ever seen and the way his eyes turn into crescents when he's smiling makes your legs weak. He met you yesterday, but you know him since 3racha performed in the university’s festival last year. Since the first time you two crossed paths, everything about him, appearance wise, seemed appealing: his dark eyes, his smile, his dark curls, his broad shoulders and his muscular body. That's why you freaked out so much when he spoke to you yesterday, you never thought he would give you the time of day. So you would be dumb to reject his offer.

“Okay”, you nod, handing your phone to him. “You can put your number there, I'll text you so you can save my contact”, you say and he stares at the device for a few moments before picking it up and typing his number.

This was easier than he thought.

—

“Do you have pepper spray with you?” Your mother asks for the 30th time in the last hour.

“Yes, mom. I'm going on a date with another student, he's not a criminal”, you tell her and your father tsks.

“There are alot of students that commit crimes”, he says.

“I know”, you sigh, “don't worry, I have pepper spray, emergency numbers and I'll turn on my localization”

Your sister is watching the scene unfolding in front of her, while she chuckles.

“You shouldn't laugh, if I start dating you will go through the same thing when it's your time”, you whisper at her and she sighs.

“You're not going to this date just so I can officially date Jeongin, right?”

You grin.

“You think too highly of me, I'm not that selfless”, you hear the sound of a horn in front of your house, “I'm going on this date because he's hot”

Chan thought you were pretty in your everyday clothes but after seeing you ready for your date he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You're wearing a little sundress with thin straps holding your much too generous and low cleavage. Your hair is down and your lips are red with lipstick.

He's waiting for you outside of the car so he can open the door for you, but when you stop in front of him, he just doesn't move.

You frown, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay?” You ask and he snaps out of his daze.

“Yeah, you're just too pretty”, he tells you honestly, “I just couldn't believe I'm so lucky”

You feel your skin hotter, you're sure your whole face must be red like a tomato.

The restaurant you are going to have dinner at is a bit further than you thought, it takes at least one hour by car to get there.

“Were all the places close to the city closed?” You try making a joke and he smiles.

“Considering your personality, I thought you would like this place better”, he tells you while you go in. A person greets you two, leading you inside. There's no open space, the building is full of rooms and you're guided to one of those. There's a glass wall in the back of the room with a view to a lake and a waterfall, there's colorful lights everywhere, making it even more beautiful.

“So, when I was searching for a nice place to go on a date, I came across this one.” Chan starts speaking and you notice there's a small stove on top of the table. “There's no attendants, so we will cook our own food and only call them if we want more servings”, he explains, pulling the chair so you can sit.

“Oh”, you feel a weird feeling on your stomach, are these the butterflies your sister told you about? You never knew something like this existed and the fact that he was attentive enough to take your shyness into consideration while choosing the place of your date makes you melt inside. “Thank you”, you tell him after sitting.

You don't shut up the whole night. This is the first time you feel so comfortable with someone other than your family.

“So, you want to work with entertainment?” He asks surprised.

“Yes, I really like the whole thing about managing an artist, it sound exciting”, you smile happily, “who knows, maybe one day I can manage 3racha”

“You have heard 3racha?” Chan asks, surprised.

“I really like your music”, you tell him, “besides, everyone knows about you guys”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you knew about us”, he smiles charmingly, leaning on the table while clasping his hands. “So does that win me some points? Maybe a kiss?”

You already are red because of the wine, now you feel your whole face hot. You're already feeling a bit out of it, not drunk enough to make a bad decision but definitely drunk enough to lose a bit of your shyness.

“I don't know how to kiss”, you say simply, no further explanation.

Chan almost chokes on the air he just breathed, he didn't think you would be so blunt about it. Curiously, he finds your innocent face while saying that too enticing.

“I can help you with that”, he says, tilting his head and winking.

“Would you really?” You ask and he nods. “Like now?”

Chan didn't expect that to happen so soon, especially with someone as shy as you. But he won't refuse your offer.

“Are you done?” He asks, eagerly, standing up and you nod. Chan stretches his hand to you, waiting for you to hold it.

He takes you to his car, helping you get in and fastening your seatbelt. He's not in his right mind, not at all, he didn't even drink so why is he so excited? He doesn't think he ever felt this way about a kiss. He drives for a while, looking for the drive in movie theater he had read about while looking for the restaurant.

After fifteen minutes he parks his car behind others, there are a lot of people there to watch the movie.

You have your hands on your lap, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. It's so endearing how innocent you are.

“Would you like to take a seat?” He asks and you frown, looking around and then looking at him. You are already seated.

He tilts his head, chuckling and patting his lap. You nod so fast, it's embarrassing. He smiles, seeing you climb on top of him, legs are over the cup holder, you're using him as a literal seat.

“You never kissed anyone?” He asks, while you adjust yourself on top of him, his breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps rise all over your body. You shake your head, feeling a bit insecure, what if you are no good?

Chan bites on his lower lip, shifting a bit so you won't feel his hardening cock under you, you're just too cute, too sexy.

“Okay, I'll go slowly, we can stop anytime you want”, he tells you, brushing his hand on your arm all the way to your neck, making you close your eyes to his touch. He pulls your face closer, touching your lips with his, it's warm and soft, it feels like heaven.

He brings his other hand to your cheek, caressing. He pulls back a bit, just enough so he can speak.

“Open your mouth for me, baby”, he tells you and you obey instantly, feeling his lips back on yours. His tongue brushes against yours and you whine, lifting your hands to grab on his shoulders to steady yourself, causing your ass to rub on his cock. Chan groans, making you flinch, did you do something wrong?

He notices your hesitancy, so he slides his hand to your waist, squeezing you in reassurance.

“Are you sure you have never done this?” He asks playfully and you smile, shyly.

“Can- Can we do it again?” You whisper, making him chuckle. Dear god, would he be able to stop this with just kisses?

“Did you like kissing me, princess?” He teases, seeing you blush. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He lands a kiss on your exposed collarbone, tracing kisses up to your neck.

“You smell so good”, he tells you before leaving a kiss on your jaw, then on your chin and finally a peck on your lips.

“Must taste even better”, he thinks, smiling to himself.

Your phone starts ringing, taking you two out of that hazy atmosphere. You feel embarrassed now, not believing you actually acted that way. Going back to your seat, you pick up the call, it's Yuna.

“Mom and dad are freaking out because you stopped moving for too long”, she whispers. Shit, you forgot your localization was turned.

“Tell them you called Chan and I'm alright, my phone just died”, you instruct her.

“Yeah, got it, just hurry”

Chan probably heard the conversation, but you still feel upset that he started the car right away and drove fast back to your home.

When you arrive in front of your house, you're not sure if you should kiss him goodnight or just wave, both are awkward options for you, so you go with the one you want the most.

You grab his arm and pull him closer to you, kissing him on the lips. Chan is quite surprised with your bold action, but he won't complain, he can't get enough of your lips.

“I will text you when I get home”, he says after pulling away and you nod.

You get out of the car and walk to your door, stealing glances at Chan. He's giggling at your antics, watching until you are safe inside your house.

He should be thankful to Jeongin, he's finally having a good time.

—

Chan is taking his mission seriously, he's texting you everyday and even stopped seeing all his fuck buddies. This is the closest he ever got to a relationship, but you're not official yet.

Especially not when you're avoiding him like the plague when it comes to meeting face to face. You answer his texts normally but he has to literally hunt you down so he can find you in this damn university and if you see him before he sees you, it's game over, you'll hide immediately and he has to begin his search all over again.

This time, though, he caught you off guard. You are at the library, seated alone, trying to focus on the book you have in your hands.

He smiles to himself, knowing you can't escape anymore. Chan leans over, caging your body with his two hands around you, gripping the table.

“I missed you, baby”, he whispers and you shiver, feeling butterflies on your stomach.

“H-hi”, you say, closing your book and taking a deep breath.

You will not try and pretend you didn't hide from him for almost a week. But that's not your fault, it's your brain's.

After Chan left you home, you ran to your room, still feeling all tingly and hot from kissing him. Since Yuna didn't come to your room you guessed she was already asleep, so you took your makeup off, took a long bath and snuggled in your nice sheets.

The thing is: you had the most lewd, filthy, awfully good dream that night. You could never even say the things Chan did to you in that dream out loud.

You woke up sweaty, heavy breathing and panties soaked, this never happened to you before.

You just couldn't look at his face after that, you felt dirty and guilty with having those thoughts about such a nice guy.

“Am I wrong or were you avoiding me?” He asks, not moving from behind you.

“No- I wasn't”, you turn around to look at him, bumping into his face too close from yours. He glances at your lips, biting his lower one and chuckles. “I was just, hm, kinda embarrassed”, you tell him, aware that he's going to know right away if you try lying.

“Embarrassed about what?” He asks, tilting his head.

“I don't know”, you look away, trying not to give in and tell him about your dream.

“I think you should come to my place so we can talk about it”, he says and you choke on your own spit, struggling to function correctly. Did he just ask you to go to his house? Just you? And him? Just the two of you?

The apartment is not far from the campus, it's a maximum twenty minutes walk. The building is nice and modern, it absolutely matches what you had imagined Chan’s place would look like.

His apartment is huge, it's not possible that he lives there alone.

“I have three roommates, Jisung and Changbin you already know and Hyunjin, he's an arts major”

“Hwang Hyunjin? I know him, he's friends with my sister”, Chan nods, he forgot your sister dates Jeongin, she probably knows his entire group of friends.

“Do you want to drink something?” He asks, looking at you while you walk around the living room, looking at every corner but not at him.

“Water is fine”, you say, looking at some pictures he has with his friends. He always has that breathtaking smile that makes all your insides turn around.

“What about watching a movie?” He asks out of nowhere, sitting on the sofa. He looks at you, an arm resting on the back of the sofa.

“Sure”, you walk to him, sitting on the far corner. Chan has to bite back a laugh so you won't feel embarrassed, do you really think it's so easy for you to get away from him?

He turns on the movie, adjusting himself on his seat. You're really trying to pay attention to what's going on on the screen, but you just can't. Not when Chan's scent is all over the place, making you remember about your dirty dream.

He knows you're restless, he can see you fidgeting by his peripheral vision.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, turning his head towards you, with a smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe you can sit here again, I'm sure you are going to like it better”, he pats on his lap.

You feel your face red.

“Stop teasing”, you mumble, pouting, “that's not nice”

He chuckles. If you're not coming to him, he has no problem going to you, so Chan slides his body closer, making you stare at him with a frown.

He raises his hand to your face, cupping it and caressing your cheek.

“Tell me you don't want this, princess, I'll stop”, he says. But you want this more than anything in the world, how could you not?

You lean a bit, trying to close the gap between your mouths. Oh, how much Chan missed your soft lips, he felt almost like going through a withdrawal staying so long without kissing you.

You learn fast, your mouth opens right away after your lips touch. In a bold move, your tongue is the one to look for his first, making him groan. He puts his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it harder than he predicted, but he didn't predict the bite you would give on his lip at that exact moment.

Chan grabs your hip, pulling you up to his lap, this time with a leg on each side of him. You're looking at him in that innocent way when all he has on his mind are the dirtiest thoughts. He caresses your thigh, sliding his hand to grab your ass and pulling you closer to him.

“Will you tell me now, why you were embarrassed? You looked pretty fine when I left you home after our date”, he asks and you blush instantly, oh, you forgot about the reason you are here. You can't tell him about your dream, you'll die of embarrassment if you do.

“It was- nothing”, you lie, avoiding his eyes. Chan noticed this already, you always look anywhere but him when you are lying to him.

Maybe he'll have to make you tell the truth.

“Really?” He says, skeptical. “Then you were just being mean? Playing with my feelings after just one date?” He's teasing, he knows you'll give in eventually, it's just a question of time.

“No, I wasn't”, you argue, with a frown on your face, your lips shut tight in a pout.

“Baby”, he calls, your legs would definitely give out if he called you like that while you were standing. “I don't like liars”

Chan slides his hands up to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling you closer. You can already feel something hard beneath you, making you shift and adjust on his lap, involuntarily seeking some friction. Your core is aching, just by staying so close to him.

“I'm not lying, that's mean”, you try changing the subject and he chuckles.

Chan comes closer, lips brushing against yours, his breathing hitting on your mouth, everything just making the wet spot on your panties grow bigger and bigger. He kisses you, a nice and soft kiss with his tongue caressing yours gently.

Chan notices that you're moving your hips slightly, trying to feel his cock. He smiles during the kiss, pulling away while putting his hands on your hips, guiding your movements to be harder.

“Hm”, you whine, feeling his hard on giving you the friction you're looking for. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer into a kiss again.

You never felt this way, like ever. You did masturbate but it's different to do it with another person. It's just so good to feel Chan's touch on your skin, his breathing, his muscular arms holding you. You feel your orgasm coming, you can't believe you're going to cum by just rubbing yourself on this man.

Chan knows you're almost there, that's when he grabs your hips steadying you, not letting you move further. He earns a whine from you, an angry look on your face.

“I will only let you keep going if you tell me why you were embarrassed and avoided me”, he says cockyly and you shake your head, trying to move again but his grip on your hips is too strong.

“I don't wanna”, you tell him.

“Then, I guess you won't be cumming today”, he shrugs. “At least, not with me”, he smirks to your face becoming even redder.

“You're such a meanie”, you whine, pouting, still trying to move again but he just won't let you.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He tilts his head.

You ponder for a moment, what should you do? It's not going to end here, if you don't tell him right now, you're sure he won't let it go.

“I- I had a dream”, you start, trying to gather some courage.

“Uhm”, he nods, “what about it?” He asks curiously, feeling strangely aroused by the way you're looking around, lips pulled into a line and the way you're speaking leads him to believe you're talking about a wet dream.

“Li- like one of those dreams”, so he was right, did you have a wet dream about him? That's interesting.

“Hm, you'll have to be more specific, princess”, he pushes, “I don't think I know what you're talking about”

“I mean”, you groan, dropping your head to his shoulder so you won't feel his eyes on you. “A sex dream… with you”, you whisper.

The grin on Chan's face after you finish saying that, is priceless. He can feel his cock twitching, he's eager to know more.

“Tell me more about it”, he presses, “I really wanna know what happened in that dream that left you so embarrassed”

“Please, Chan. Don't make me say it”, you beg, but he's not having it. He likes seeing you blushing and struggling to talk dirty, it's endearing.

“No can do”, he grabs your shoulder to pull you away so he can look at your face. “I promise I'll give a nice reward if you tell me”

You nod. If he won't drop it, then you have to try and earn something over your embarrassing situation.

“I- like- you ate me out”, you start and he smiles, he would indeed love to do that. “And I s-sucked you off, it was nice”, you stumble over your words in each sentence. Chan can only feel even more turned on, your lips are so soft, he can't even picture what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.

“Keep going, princess. You're doing great”, he reassures you. Chan loosens the grip on your hips, guiding your movements back and forth once again.

“And you said all these dirty things to me, I can't say it out loud, please”, he smirks, pulling you even closer and pressing your covered core against his cock.

“Did I tell you how good it felt to have your pretty little mouth sucking on my cock?” He asks playfully and you nod, feeling the warmth creeping in your face again while that tingly sensation grows bigger in your lower stomach.

“Did we fuck?” He asks, feeling himself getting closer to cum too.

“Yeah”, you nod frantically with your eyes closed shut. “You fucked me on all fours and in this same position too”, you tell him.

“Oh? Did you ride me? Did you like it?”

“I did”, you struggle to make your voice come out, feeling too light headed to even speak properly.

“There's something more, right, baby?” He feels his cock throbbing, he's almost at his limit.

“Yes, you- you choked me a bit, I liked that”, and that sentence was enough to make Chan reach his orgasm, being followed by you right after.

He can't believe he really did cum in his pants, like a fucking teenager. It's your fault actually, how can someone make him cum like this and still look angelic and innocent? Like you never told him he choked you and you liked it, even though it was a dream.

Chan kisses you eagerly this time, his chest is feeling hot and he feels a weird sensation on his stomach.

“You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this kind of thing”, he tells you and you nod, because it's true, “if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I had worse thoughts about you”, he smiles, seeing you blush.

“Like what?” You ask, curiously.

“Oh, I won't tell you”, he shakes his head, “you would never look at me again if you knew all the dirty things I wanna do to you”

—

Another week went by and now you were not avoiding Chan anymore. He follows you around pretty much all day at school, stealing kisses and pulling you to empty classrooms to have make out sessions.

It's time for him to meet your parents, it's not something he ever did, he never dated anyone after all. It's a Wednesday night, he brought flowers and a bottle of wine. So five minutes before the set time, he's knocking at your door.

Your sister opens up, greeting him but you're nowhere to be found until he hears your voice from upstairs.

“Is he already here?” You sound panicked and your sister giggles.

“Yes! Hurry up”, she says and Chan hears something falling and making a weird noise. It was not loud enough to be a person so he's not worried you fell, but he finds it funny to think about you nervously stumbling around.

When you show up at the top of the stairs, he has to blink a few times to actually believe you're real. You look so beautiful, showing your nice legs in a short skirt and your shoulders in a tank top.

“Hey”, you greet him, looking at the things he has in hands and he finally regains his composure.

“Hi”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “this is for you” he hands you a bouquet of red camellias.

You stop for a second, you never received flowers. Before you can answer him, your father's head is popping out of the living room.

“Why is it taking so long for you to bring this guy inside?”, he asks grumpy, he's not too happy about you dating but there's nothing he can do about it.

Chan straightens himself, walking to your father to greet him.

“Good night, sir. I'm Bang Chan”, he clears his throat when your father doesn't say a thing, just staring at him. “I brought this for you”, he shows the wine bottle and your father takes it.

“At least you have good taste”, he nods to the wine bottle Chan stole from his father's collection.

He turns around, shrugging to you and you smile, listening to your sister's chuckles. You take his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers.

In the living room there's a woman that looks too much like you and your sister to not be your mother, she smiles kindly at you two.

She's less intimidating than your father so Chan's greetings to her are less awkward this time. As time goes by, your parents warm up to him, making jokes and even telling him about your childhood.

“The night went great”, you say while walking Chan to his car. “Thank you for coming”

“Your parents are great”, he says, leaning on the door of his car. He takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you for inviting me”

He looks so good tonight, his dark hair is carefully styled and he's wearing much more formal clothes than usual, making him look like a prince.

“Can I have a good night’s kiss?” He asks, slyly, seeing you eyeing him up. You nod, putting your hands on his chest and closing the gap between your mouths. Chan's hands slide from your waist to your ass, squeezing slightly, he can't get too into it since he won't be able to go further than a kiss tonight.

You pull away from him when you have to breathe, his lips are so inviting you could kiss him all night long.

“I will see you tomorrow”, he tells you.

There's something wrong with his heart, it's beating so fast he thinks he may be dying. After driving away from you, he calms himself a bit. It's not possible that you were the cause of that reaction, right? This is supposed to be fun, he only has to date you for a while and then break up, no strings attached. So why does he feel such hurt in his chest after thinking about leaving you?

After one more long and sleepless night Chan realized something: he is in love. This feeling snuck in so unexpectedly he didn't even notice he was falling in love. Chan never fell in love before, so he can only guess that this is how it feels to love someone.

He notices every little detail about you, he jokes around all the time waiting to hear you laugh about something he says. Chan likes the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you just look at him so focused while he is speaking. He is in love with your personality, your cleverness, your kindness, your beauty is just a bonus that makes him even more in love with you.

He wants to confess to you, ask you to be his girlfriend, to never leave him.

He even asked for your sister's help to make something for you, maybe a song, he can definitely make something beautiful and romantic for you. Maybe he can cook too, he wants to make you feel appreciated.

He's waiting for your class to finish, seated on the bench in front of the classroom while scrolling through his phone.

He feels someone sitting by his side and before he can look, a kiss lands onto his cheek. Chan puts his hand on his face, blushing and you laugh seeing his reaction. You two did much more than just a kiss on the cheek, why is he embarrassed about it?

“Did you miss me?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“Of course I did”, he grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. “Should we go to my place?” He asks and you nod, standing up, pulling him to get up too.

It's still a bit weird that you two are together, you never thought liking someone as much as you like Chan could actually happen to you, you could even say you're in love. The only thing that still makes you doubtful is the fact that he didn't ask you to be his girlfriend yet, you have been going out for a month and you do everything together, so why hasn't he made it official?

You still have many questions in your mind, sitting on Chan's bed while he makes popcorn and you choose the movie you're watching tonight.

He enters the room, closing the door and turning off the lights, two water bottles and a huge bowl in his hands.

“What movie did you choose?” He asks, but you can't hear it, your mind is too loud. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Are we exclusive?” You ask out of nowhere, ripping the air out of his lungs.

“Yes”, he says firmly, “do you want to be with other people?”

Chan asked that, but he's holding his breath until you answer him, hoping you're going to deny. For a moment, you don't say a thing and seeing you hesitate makes his heart ache.

“No, I-” you try speaking, trying not to sound ridiculous, “I want to be exclusive, I just don't know if you want that”

Chan takes a deep breath, putting the things he has in hands on the nightstand.

“Of course, I want to”, he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss the palm. He's feeling guilty, he's taking his time preparing a nice confession but you're feeling insecure. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want things to get more serious”, he climbs on the bed, getting closer to you, “let me show you that you're the only one I want, hum? Can I?”

You suck on your teeth, knowing exactly what is about to happen but you just can't say no to him, let's be real, you don't want to say no to him. So you nod, making him smile.

Chan is eager to have you, he has been for weeks, just waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him. He cups your face, pulling you closer and kissing you.

He helps you lay down on the bed, towering over you while landing kisses down your neck. You feel him biting on your shoulder and he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. His hands travel around your body, making you hotter.

“You're so pretty, princess”, he says, kissing your chest. You whine, he's taking too much time to get to the place you want the most.

“Channie”, you whisper, “please, touch me”, you ask him.

His smile grows bigger as he mumbles “your wish is my command”. Chan unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing it someplace in the room.

He slides his hand down to your core, your underwear is soaked. He pulls your panties down your legs and brushes a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness before inserting a finger inside, you arch your back to the feeling. It's delicious, but it hurts a bit. It's different from how it feels doing it alone.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “You're such a good girl, baby, all wet and ready for me.” He whispers, getting closer to your face again. I'm going to put another one”, he tells you. The sensation it's too much already, his fingers are too much.

“Chan”, you moan, “I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that”

“Oh? But I didn't even get to the better part”, he answers pressing his thumb on your clit, making circles.

“Fuck”, you whine.

His smirk grows while he keeps the movement of back and forth inside of you. Before he can tease you more, your legs are shaking and your tight hole is clenching around his fingers. You put your hand on your mouth, covering it so you won't make a loud sound, but he doesn't like that. He wants to hear how well he's fucking you.

“Let's not do that, okay? I want you to be loud, want to hear you scream my name” He says, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them on his mouth. He comes closer, kissing your neck and face, helping you calm down after your orgasm.

Goosebumps rise all over your body, his kisses feel like fire on your skin, you thought you'd feel less horny after cumming, but you're still so turned on.

Chan kisses your chest, opening your bra. You feel embarrassed when he sees you completely naked.

“You're still dressed”, you point out, face red.

He gets out of the bed immediately, taking his shirt off and his pants too, crawling back to you in only his underwear. His cock is hard, outlined by the thin fabric of his boxers.

You feel the urge to touch him, maybe taste it. So you grab his length, making him groan.

“What are you doing, princess?” He asks, eyes closed from the pleasure of having your beautiful hands wrapped around him.

“I want to make you feel good”, you tell him, pushing his chest and making him fall on his back on the bed. You kiss his neck the same as he was doing to you, suddenly feeling possessive and sucking on the skin, leaving a few hickeys there.

You go down, kissing his chest and stomach, getting closer and closer to his throbbing cock. You pull his underwear down and his cock spring on your face.

“I just- you need to teach me”, you tell him. How can you look at him with such innocence in your eyes when you're about to suck him off?

“Hold the base”, he instructs, “now you can go up and down with your hand.”

He feels your movements, making him groan. You are bolder than he gives you credit for, since you lick the head of his cock without being told to. You wrap his dick with your mouth, waiting for the next command.

“You can go up and down, princess, yes, like that” he moans, feeling his cock being embraced by your warm mouth.

Chan feels like exploding any time now, weeks of pent-up sexual tension being released. He sees you rubbing yourself on his bed while sucking on him, that just makes him crazier, he wants to make you feel good now, he can let you do the same for him another time.

“Baby”, you hear him say and you stop your movements. “I won't be able to last long with your soft mouth doing that, I need to feel you around my cock”

You nod, letting go of his cock and climbing up, stopping on top of Chan.

“I wanna be on top”, you say confidently.

“Let's do it slowly okay? I don't want to hurt you”, Chan tells you and you agree.

He grabs the base of his cock, brushing the head on your folds, trying to wet it enough to make it easier for you.

It feels like heaven when his cock finally slides inside of you, you're so tight he feels like he can cum at any moment.

Chan sees the pain in your eyes, he doesn't move, “do you want to stop?” He asks worriedly, putting his hands on your hips to stop you from moving but you shake your head.

You keep pushing it in, trying to relax. Chan kisses you, massaging your breasts to help you relax a bit.

When the painful part is gone and you're feeling all the good sensations back, you don't think you can stop, it's too addictive. You start riding on him freely, hands taking support on his chest and head thrown back, the pleasure is just too much, you'll be coming soon.

“Fuck, you look so good riding me, princess”, he says, feeling his own high almost catching him.

“Oh, Channie, I'm gonna cum”, you whine, fastening the movements of your hips, “please, oh, your cock feels so good”

For someone who couldn't talk about a wet dream a few weeks ago you sure talk dirty in real life, Chan chuckles, feeling you clenching around him and when you squeeze his cock for the last time he cums too, filling you up.

You collapse on top of him, breathing heavily. Your eyes are heavy, you're not sure if you can stay awake. Chan caresses your back and plays with your hair, making you fall fast asleep.

You wake up feeling just a bit sore. You're on cloud nine, the night was amazing. When you open your eyes, there's no one in the bed with you. You wrap yourself in the blankets trying to find and collect all your clothes scattered around the room.

The delicious smell that embraces your nose the moment you step out of the room, is enough to make you drool.

Chan is in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and an apron. That's right, he's shirtless. You're feeling bold today, so you get closer to him wrapping your arms around his waist in a back hug.

He lets out a laugh, putting his hand over yours and turning off the stove. He turns around, hugging you.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, kissing your forehead and you nod, snuggling in his embrace.

“Why didn't you wake me earlier? I woke up missing you”

“Ow, my baby is so needy”, he teases, making you pout. “I was making you, breakfast”

“Hm”, you look at what he was cooking.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, a bit worried, it was your first time after all.

“I'm doing great”, you smile, “just a bit sore, but it's nothing”

He nods, putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you around.

“I'm happy to hear that”, he kisses the top of your head, guiding you to take a seat on the table. “Let's eat so we can go for another round then”, he smirks.

—

“Jeongin is coming here today?” You ask your sister and she nods frantically while fixing her hair.

“He's coming to ask dad's permission to date me”, she giggles excitedly.

“Alright”, you smile seeing your sister so happy.

You're the one opening the door for Jeongin while your sister is getting ready, he's clearly nervous but he's trying to keep his smile.

“Hey!” You give space for him to enter, “Yuna is almost done”

He nods, looking around. Your sister comes down minutes later, leading Jeongin to the living room.

Your father is less hostile to him than he was to Chan, maybe it's because Jeongin is adorable.

After an hour of conversation, you go upstairs, you have a date tonight and need to get ready.

The memories from your night with Chan flood your mind making you giggle and kick your feet, they have been your most cherished thoughts lately. It's a struggle but you finally end your bath after probably an hour.

You walk back to your room, you're already late. However, you stop in front of your sister's room when you hear voices being a little bit too loud.

“You did what, Jeongin?” your sister's voice is a pitch higher than usual.

“I didn't think things would get out of hand”, Jeongin answers, are they fighting?

“In what world did you think that was a good idea?”

“I was desperate, I'm not proud of that”, he answers back.

“There's no excuse for you to ask Bangchan to date my sister”, she tries speaking lower but you still can hear them. Your whole world crumbles with that one sentence, what does she mean by that?

“I didn't do it to be mean, I know how hard it is for your sister to get to meet new people, I thought it would benefit the both of us”, he tries explaining. Your heart is beating too fast, the throbbing in your ears grows stronger and your legs are giving out.

“How am I supposed to tell her now? She is so happy” Yuna cries out. “Don't come any closer, get out of here”, you panic instantly, they can't see you there. But you're too slow, when you finally manage to move Jeongin is swinging the door open. He stops on his tracks, turning white on the spot.

“Y/N-”, he tries to speak, but you run to your room before he can say anything else.

You can't believe this is actually happening to you, you thought that someone finally liked you but everything was a lie? That's not possible, right?

You are going to go to Chan, you two have a date, and he is going to tell you that Jeongin is lying, that he was just joking.

The uber to Chan's apartment doesn't seem to show up fast enough and the ride there couldn't be slower. You're restless, fidgeting with your fingers and shaking your legs.

You pay the man, practically running out of the car and running upstairs. The person who opens the door is not Chan but Changbin, you met him a few times when you were visiting the apartment.

“Hey, y/n”, Changbin greets you. “Chan is not home, but he will be here soon, I heard you have a date”, he says, letting you in.

“I'm going to wait for him in his room”, you tell him, too disturbed to worry about proper manners.

You walk back and forth in the room, anxiously waiting for Chan's arrival. You hear his voice after twenty minutes, he's talking to his friend in the living room when Changbin tells him you're there.

You can hear the fast footsteps leading to where you are, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Hey, baby”, Chan smiles at you, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards you with open arms. “Did something happen?” He stops, noticing your face.

You stare at him for a minute, brows knit together and eyes trying to find the least bit of sincerity in the time you two spent together.

“Did you ask me out as a favor to Jeongin?” You ask and his standing falter, how did you find out?

“L-let me explain”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“So you did”, you feel the tears trying to escape from your eyes.

“Please, just… just hear what I have to say”, he asks, trying to hold your hand, but you pull away from him.

“I don't want to hear a thing from you”, you tell him, running your hands through your hair.

It really was all a lie. How could you be so dumb?

You walk past him, trying to get out of the room, go anywhere but there. But Chan grabs your arm, making you stop in your tracks.

“Please, don't leave”, he begs. You feel a pang in your chest, but it doesn't make a difference since you're already hurting too much.

“You have no right to ask me that”, you pull your arm out of his grasp and walk out of the apartment.

It would be too humiliating to enter the uber while bawling your eyes out, so you decide to walk. You walk for a long time before your feet start hurting and your eyes are burning from how much you cried. You can't believe you really let yourself fall pray to such a scheme, you thought you were smarter than that.

It's obvious you only fell for it because it's Chan, you were attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him. You try to believe that it wouldn't be that easy to trick you if it was anyone else.

After at least two hours, you finally reach your house and you're feeling utterly miserable. You greet your parents and walk upstairs, anxiously searching for your room so you can finally let yourself fall and cry as much as you can.

Your sister is seated on your bed, biting on her nails. She stands up as soon as she sees you.

“I'm really sorry”, she says, teary.

You sigh, feeling the weight on your chest even heavier.

“It's not your fault”, you tell her. You start to undress, looking for your pajamas so you can snuggle on your bed until all of this passes.

“I shouldn't have started dating before you”, she whines.

“I don't blame you, so stop doing that to yourself”, you say, even though you feel a bit of resentment because Jeongin likes her truly, he likes her because she's her. Of course no one's going to like you, you're… you.

“But”, she bites on her lower lip, not sure if she should say this, “I think Chan really likes you-”, she stops talking when you give her the meanest glare you ever threw in someone's way.

“I don't want to hear it”, you say.

“He even asked help so he could confess to you in a way you would like”, she continues.

“I'm not going to repeat myself”, you say and your sister knows that tone too well, it's better for her to stay silent for the time being. “If you're done, I would like to be alone”

Yuna nods, glancing at you all the way to the door.

You collapse on your bed, finally able to cry your eyes out without people looking at you in a weird way. This is the moment you realize how much you love Bang Chan, the pain you're feeling is greater than anything you ever felt in your whole life, you truly don't think you'll be able to survive this.

Chan is an idiot, he knows this and you are right to never look at his face again. But even though he knows you're right, he can't accept the thought of you leaving him.

He tried calling and texting you, you blocked him. He tried talking to your sister, she cursed him out and told him to leave you alone. She and Jeongin are on bad terms right now but they didn't break up yet.

He tried to find you in the university, but you didn't show up for the entire week, he just doesn't know what to do.

“You are an idiot”, Hyunjin says after listening to the whole story, “you should have told her about it while you still had time”

“I didn't know I was in love”, Chan runs his hands through his hair, “not until it was too late”

His friend sighs, he just can't see Chan like that anymore. He's just miserable, he looks like he's dying and Hyunjin doesn't doubt it could actually happen at this point.

So as a good friend, he takes this matter into his own hands and calls your sister, trying to convince her to listen to Chan and maybe forgive Jeongin too, Hyunjin is tired of him whining all day long.

“Did you really call me here for this?”, Yuna asks, ready to grab her things and go home.

“Hear me out, okay?” He says. “I know what they did was wrong but they regret it, Jeongin even told you about it”

She huffs, crossing her arms.

“He told me because I was talking about how Chan wanted to ask y/n to be his girlfriend”, she says. “He felt guilty, he would have never told me about it otherwise”

“Chan really likes y/n, he really wants to be with her”

Yuna sighs, she knows that. There was no way Chan could fake the way he looked at you.

“She's not going to believe that”, Yuna says, “y/n is heartbroken, she's not even going to her classes. She just stays in her room all day, crying’

“There's nothing better to fix her broken heart then”, Hyunjin points out, “let's help them meet, they can talk things out that way”

“She doesn't want to see him”, Yuna sighs, “but I do think this is the best solution”

“Okay, I'll text you the day and time, just bring y/n, Chan will take care of the rest”

Yuna nods, collecting her things but before she can stand up, Hyunjin's voice sounds again.

“About Jeongin-”, he starts, but she cuts him off right away.

“This whole mess started because of Jeongin”, she takes a deep breath, “after y/n and Chan resolve this matter I'll see what I'm going to do about him”

Yuna turns around, leaving Hyunjin there. At least he got Chan a chance, he can't save everyone.

Chan can't take it anymore, he has to see you. So he musters all the courage he has and goes to your house. It doesn't help that it's 2 a.m. so everyone is sleeping, except you it seems, since there's light coming from your room.

He begins throwing rocks at your window, trying to make you notice him and after a few tries he sees your face popping out.

Chan wishes he didn't come at all, your face is puffy so he knows you have been crying and the way you're looking at him, it's just awful, he feels despicable. More than he has felt all this time without you.

“What do you want?” You ask, at least you didn't ignore him.

“Can you come down for a bit?”

You sigh, you don't actually want to, but you're afraid he'll make too much noise trying to convince you to go down and wake up the neighbors or even worse, your parents.

You close the window, he knew it would be hard, that you wouldn't want to see him. Before he can turn around and walk away, Chan hears the sound of the front door opening.

You are in your pajamas, holding yourself trying to protect your body from the cold air.

You stop in your tracks, looking at him with an intense gaze, like you can read all his thoughts and know about all his mistakes.

“How have you been?” He asks and you scoff.

“Are you here to survey my mood? I have been feeling like shit, what about you?” He remembers the first time he talked to you, how he wished to see you mad, now he regrets that. He never wanted to see you mad at him.

“I'm not well either”, he says.

You sigh.

“Now that we know how each other is feeling, you can go”, you tell him.

“Can you let me explain?” He pleads.

“Did you start dating me as a favor for Jeongin?” You ask and he sighs, nodding. “That's all I need to know, I would appreciate it if you don't come looking for me anymore”, you say, turning around and going back inside. Tears start running down your face while you go back to your room, when will this pain subside?

—

You are finally back at school, after moping around all day at home for an entire week, you decided it was time to get back to your life. Staying at home just made you feel worse, you didn't have a thing to distract yourself so you ended up thinking about Chan the whole time. That only weakened your resolve to forget about him, you avoided coming to school because you knew you would give in if he tried to approach you.

Your day goes by fast enough and you just want to go home to lay on your bed. You feel your phone buzzing, it's a message from Jeongin. You were so angry with Chan that you forgot to block him.

He should be begging to meet Yuna, so why is he asking to meet you? Maybe he wants your help to fix things between them.

You don't know why you decided to meet him, maybe it's curiosity to know why he did such a thing to you or maybe you want to look at his face and curse at him.

He arrives at the cafe at the set time, looking around for you and walking towards you when his eyes lock with yours.

“Hey”, he says, sitting in front of you. You don't say anything back, not in the mood to be polite.

Jeongin sighs, he expected this much.

“I wanted to talk with you about this whole situation, believe me I didn't mean to hurt you even though it ended up happening in the end-”

“I considered you my friend”, you say making him stop talking.

“I- I'm”, he says, voice a pitch higher.

“Friends don't do what you did”, you say and he nods.

“I know it was an ill executed plan, but my intentions weren't bad, I swear”, he tells you.

“And do your intentions matter if I was the one hurt in the end?” You ask, angrier now.

“No”, he answers. “I'm truly sorry, I swear, I just caught you staring at Chan more than once. I thought this would be good for us both but I was clearly wrong”

You huff, exhausted. You start collecting your things to go home but you hear Jeongin's voice once more.

“Chan really likes you, he fell in love with you”, he says and your heart skips a beat, it shouldn't be behaving like this, not after the heartbreak you are going through.

“I don't care, he lost his chance”, you answer firmly, even though you know it's not true.

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks, “are you sure you won't regret it? Not let him explain or not hearing him out?”

You glance at him once more, before standing up and walking out of the cafe.

Your mid terms are finally over, that means, you don't have anything to study so you're stuck with your thoughts. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's a message from Yuna, asking you to meet her in the arts department.

You reply, saying you'll be there in a moment. What is she even doing there? She's a business major.

The arts department is not far from yours, but it's emptier than you are used to. She asked you to meet in the first classroom of the second floor.

When you open the door, the first thing you see is Bang Chan. He looks awful, worse than you even.

You try going back, but he already saw you, so he stands up, coming closer.

“Don't leave, I'll do anything just… don't leave”

He's pale, and the eyebags he normally has are darker than usual.

“Are you sick?” You ask, worried. It's not like you can stop loving him in such a short period of time, of course you're worried.

“No”, he says, “I mean, I'm not feeling well, but I don't think I have an illness”

You nod, feeling awkward. It's been a while since you felt this way about him.

“Okay, then I'll get going”, you say trying to leave, but his voice stops you.

“I love you”, he is desperate, you can hear it in his voice. However, you're too petty.

“This was part of Jeongin’s plan too?”, you scoff, seeing his lips trembling.

He takes a deep breath, he deserves that, he knows he does.

“I really started going out with you because Jeongin asked”, he starts explaining, “but I fell in love with you, for real”

You feel your heart ache once more, he's about to cry, you can see it. But you're not sure if you can forgive him, even if what he's telling you is true.

“I don't believe you”, you say, shrugging, trying to hold your own tears.

“I will do anything to prove it to you, just say what I need to do for you to believe me”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“I'm not sure if I'll be able to forget this or even forgive you, Chan”, you sigh, letting your heart speak and not your anger.

“I know I messed up, I don't deserve you I know that too”, he grabs your hand, “but please, I'll prove to you that I deserve a second chance, I'll earn back your trust”, he pleads.

You sigh, even after all this, it seems you still can't say no to him.

“I'm going to need some time”, you say slowly, “but I will give you a second chance, you better not ruin it”, you say.

Chan can't believe you're really going to try and forgive him, he can't ask for anything more.

“I won't disappoint you this time, I promise”, he says, kissing the palm of your hand, the same way he did before.

“Let's see about that”, you sigh, feeling your heart beating fast once again.

You may be making a stupid choice, but you'll only learn by making mistakes. You just sure hope this is not one.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

4K notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 4 months

Text

bother figures * fem!driver

being the designated baby sister of the grid by default is never as easy as you think it would be

pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver

warnings: ugh annoying men

notes: this is hardly funny but like i've had to take inspiration from my bother-less life rn so i'm like rly going through it rn LMFAO and it's almost 5am here but as far as i'm concerned, it is night time somewhere so teCHNICALLY i'm not late to an update!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

in the almost empty room, she sits in the corner seat as she taps away on her phone a message to reply to her siblings' group chat. she had arrived early for the driver's briefing and decided to take solace in the corner with a cup of hot chocolate.

she was enjoying the peace and serenity with the soft chatter in the background as she tried to lock herself in for the race weekend. that was until she felt a presence looming behind her with an aura she couldn't possibly ignore.

she slowly lifts her head up with a mean glare. she turns her head and meets max's blue eyes and sly grin. "what'cha doin'?"

she puts her phone on her lap as a scowl replaces her dead expression. "what do you want?"

"what are you doing?"

"does it hurt you when you see me and like... not do anything to annoy me?"

"yes, actually. i like talking to you."

"i just wanted to talk to ciara."

"now you can talk to me."

"but i don't really feel like doing that."

"why not? i'm here in front of you and not behind a phone screen. where's ciara?" he looks around, then at her with a beaming smile. "oh, would you look at that? not here."

"because she isn't an f1 driver."

"still not here to talk to you and provide you the joys of interacting with somebody face to face."

"max."

"(y/n)."

"times like these i remember you've got a younger sister."

"what's that got to do with anything?"

"you've mastered the practice of being annoying growing up, obviously. you're such a pro at it."

"how can you say that?" max cries, hand on his chest to feign hurt over her words. "i'm not annoying. please take that back!"

"you realise you made me stop my conversation with my lovely sisters because you saw me sitting alone."

max reaches out and pinches her cheek, grinning when blood rushes to her cheeks. "you were just looking a little lonely. just wanted to make you feel a little accommodated to, that's all."

she stares at him, lips pressed together. "okay, that's actually pretty sweet. i kinda feel bad now.”

“and you should!” max frowns, folding his arms over his chest. he leans back into his seat and rests one leg over the other. “you’re mean, you know?”

“i’m an oldest sister.”

“i’m an oldest brother.”

“i have three younger siblings that made me wanna shave my head bald.”

“that’s kinda crazy.”

“i know,” she sighs tiredly. but she smiles slightly. “but it’s kinda nice. with oscar and logan taking over those responsibilities growing up, we never had a moment of boredom at home.”

“cute!” max smiles. “if i lived with you growing up, you might’ve actually run away for good.”

“i could run away for good now if you’d like.”

“seb wouldn’t like that.”

“you’d have to deal with it. i’ll leave a note on my team’s fridge with your name on it.”

“you need to put the reason underneath. if not, your team will think you’re just naming the most handsomest driver on the grid,” max shakes his head in disappointment. “don’t wanna give off the wrong idea, you know?”

“if you say ‘handsomest’, it doesn’t need a ‘most’ before it,” she says, lips parted slightly at the atrocious grammar. if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s most definitely the reigning world champion making simply grammar mistakes. “you should get more sleep.”

“i do! i slept like 10 hours last night!”

“somehow i find that hard to believe with the bags under your eyes.”

“what are you two bickering about?” a hand lands itself on the back of her chair. carlos stands next to her with one hand on his hip. “i could hear you from the hallways.”

“damn, you should really keep it down, max,” she chuckles, sending him a shocked look before she clasps her hands together and rests it on her stomach. “you’re too loud.”

“i’m sure he meant you. you like… swallowed a mic as a kid,” max scoffs. he looks up at carlos. “tell me she was louder than me.”

carlos sighs. “you were loud on the same level, i believe.”

"see? i told you."

"you're moving in with logan?" alex's jaw drops, the tiktok video no his phone left to play on repeat as the younger girl dropped the news that logan's moving into her apartment. "mate, what?"

she looks up at him with a confused stare. "what?"

"i thought you said you didn't want people talking about you like that?" alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "people will definitely talk if you move in with a man."

she presses her lips together. "you've got a point, i suppose. but logan's my best friend. we've been talking about moving in together forever! since i was 15!"

"i'm just looking out for you, kid. you should really think this through," alex sighs as he slumps his shoulders. of course, he knows just how close she and logan are on a day-to-day basis. but people tend to be quite ruthless with women and he just can't see this going any other way. "you know how people are."

she sighs, shaking her head. "i don't know. i just don't think people would pay attention to that aspect of my life. i still deserve to make decisions that wouldn't be at risk of scrutiny, right?"

she takes a step forward towards alex. she hadn't exactly thought of the public implications that this would cause her. all she knew was that they'd talked about this for years and were ecstatic when logan shyly brought up their conversation from years ago.

"that's the basic that we all hope for," alex frowns. "but you know how people are. you've seen how they treat you just being here. imagine the chaos."

"maybe i'll just keep it under wraps and hope for the best," she suggests with a small smile on her face. "that could work, right? i don't wanna have to put down something i spent forever talking about."

"if you can keep it under wraps, i applaud you," alex smiles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "and i thought you've had enough of men - why are you still moving in with one?"

"to save money, really," she smiles. "and with kidnapper and stubby at home... i think living with another person is best."

"but doesn't logan like dogs more?"

"yeah, but kidnapper's taken a very weird liking to him. he doesn't wanna admit, but i know logan really likes kidnapper a lot."

"typical logan, really."

"you'd be surprised how much feelings that loser's holding in."

"oh?" alex smiles mischievously. "tell me more?"

"nice try," she scoffs with an eye roll. "i'm not spilling the beans about logan's love life. that's lore you've got to unlock the longer you race with him. just hope he's feeling friendly enough to share, yes?"

"so true," alex frowns. "but what if he's not friendly enough? means you are my only source for material to piss him off with. so, 'fess up!"

"can't betray my best friend like that, i fear," she frowns. though, her smile grows slowly. "but i can be bribed."

a scowl carves her face as she stares at the roll-in whiteboard with pictures held up against it with sesame street magnets. she sinks into the plastic chair she's given and tilts her head at the men gathered around her.

"and that's why i think you should get the same car as me," lando says simply, recapping the marker in his hands. he turns to her with a proud smile after his presentation.

her lips part. "so that we can matchy and..."

"and fuel rumours," lando repeats. "i'm involved in too little drama this year. it's always 'no wins' this, and 'no podiums' that... i want more."

"that's not a very good argument," she answers slowly, confusion contorting her face that almost makes alex laugh. "i said that i want an easy car, not a supercar. i've made that clear to almost everyone on the grid, yes?"

"yeah, but like," lando whines, throwing his head back as he stomps a foot into the ground. "seriously? you can't do this one thing for me? i'm asking you a favour!"

"to spend big money on a supercar i have to drive like it's made of glass!" she laughs dryly, hands thrown in the air in disbelief. she looks around at the men that have forcefully pulled her out of her garage and put her in this private room, in this plastic chair when she could've been taking a power nap. "is this what i'm here for? you lot are trying to convince me to finally purchase a car?"

"as per logan's request," alex shrugs, sipping on his juice box. "he said you've been putting it off all year. the season's about to end."

"and you listened to that nonce?" she cries, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you guys are absolutely unbelievable. i can't believe i'm wasting my time here!"

george, sitting next to her with a picture in hand, points at the whiteboard timidly. "i really put in a lot of thought about a car you should get," he says softly, looking slightly disappointed that she's caught on a lot faster than they predicted. "can i at least show it to you? i don't have to present."

"aw, george," she sighs, shaking her head. "it's not another supercar, is it?"

"it's not, i promise!" he perks up with a small smile on his face. he turns to lando with a small scowl. "only lando did this presentation with his best interests in mind. alex and i took the task seriously - just hear us out!"

she looks between george and alex, contemplating if the brit is telling the truth. instead of getting up like she had initially planned, she leans back into her seat. "fine. if it's anything like lando's, i'm leaving immediately. i don't care who has yet to present."

"but this ferrari looks so pretty," charles frowns, turning the picture in his hand to show it to her. "it's matte black and all. i thought we could match."

"that is also a supercar."

"he's presenting last, so i really don't care what he says," george mutters, shoving lando away from the whiteboard. he picks up a big bird magnet and pastes his picture between lando and max's proposal. "so, i think you should get this super cute toyota car."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts

#alex albon x reader #max verstappen x reader #george russell x reader #lando norris x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke vr #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

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verstarppen · 7 months

Text

summary; there's little time between fast cars and spaceships, but you make it work

pairing; lando norris x fem! star wars actress! reader [ no faceclaim ]

a/n; ahhh sorry for the late update i was planning a birthday party in a hospital dw about it anyway thank you for supporting this so i can keep geeking out on random star wars lore to you AND HAPPY OSCAR PODIUM GIRLIES LET'S GOOOOOOO!!! [ series masterlist ]

liked by yn.jpg, daniel3.jpg, oscarpiastri and 295,565 others

lando.jpg here we go

view all 29,200 comments

yn.jpg this is my boyfriend lando and this is his boyfriend oscar

lando.jpg can you stop pimping me out yn.jpg when you post me on this account i will

oscarpiastri 🤙

yn.jpg HOMEWRECKER

vertiddieenjoyer finally some good fucking strategies

julyestie let's go papaya nation 🧡🧡

holidaykimi watch him get his first win because y/n's there to watch him

maria_carrey i hope you're a prophet 🙏

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 496,872 others

yndeathtrooper wait y'all this formula one shit's kinda cool

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landonorris oh you just HAD to sneak max in there

maxverstappen1 I'm the favorite child danielricciardo Excuse me? maxverstappen1 You've been excused

ahsokawife I started watching to support your boyfriend!!

yndeathtrooper thank you random person on the internet, i'll show your comment to him yndeathtrooper update: he giggled landonorris lies.

chisslover so no press tour this year?

super_max y/n red bull stan arc

yndeathtrooper i'm here for max don't lie to yourself landonorris YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE. IT WAS SAID THAT YOU WOULD DESTROY THE RED BULLS, NOT JOIN THEM. BRING BALANCE TO THE FORCE, NOT LEAVE IT IN DARKNESS... YOU WERE MY GIRLFRIEND, Y/N. I LOVED YOU. yndeathtrooper do not use my own spells against me, plebeian

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 400,001 others

yn.jpg god bless the supernova which exploded and coalesced ino the atoms that formed my beautiful muppet

view all 31,602 comments

landonorris i love supporting my obsessed fans

yn.jpg red bull garage kinda looking good right now landonorris i will do what i must. (you won't be able to walk there by the time i'm done with you) yn.jpg you will try

staraikkonen So are we just going to ignore their comments or 😭😭😭

applenorizz they're so embarrassing (i love them) lukestarkiller i choose to live in ignorance

danielricciardo Every day i wake up against my will

yn.jpg HE STARTED IT landonorris l + ratio + didn't ask + cope + you love me

christianhorner You're always welcome to the Red Bull garage

landonorris BABE GET BEHIND ME 🤺 BACK YOU KNAVE, BACK I SAID yn.jpg sorry mr horner, boytoy said no

pic credits: instagram and pinterest

taglist: @justdreamersdream @cha-hot @dl-yum @minkyungseokie @allywthsr @eugene-emt-roe @soleilgrec @raevyng @baw-sixteen @palomaxaxaxa @cassiopeiia24 @callsignwidow @sheridamn (taglist is open!)

#🌟ln4 galaxy far far away #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #instagram au #social media au #lando norris au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #forumla 1

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astonmartingf · 24 days

Text

YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND—

— co-parenting with alonso has been smooth sailing, until he starts dropping hints that he wants to be with you again

P4 ★ SUNSHINE, RAINBOWS, AND THUNDERSTORM

amgf written portion down below. more lore, also peep lewis' story. we're in the calm before the storm hahahahaha, enjoy this 👍

previous ★ masterlist ★ next

How could the end of the week turn into a nightmare when things were starting to look better not just for Ales, but for you and Alonso.

Somehow the world always works in your favor, and just when you're about to fall into the pattern of domesticity around Alonso, shit somehow always hits the fan.

You can't help but get mad, not just at him but to yourself. You can't help but long for what could've been, you can't help but think about the family you're supposed to have together, it was a dream. Was— no longer yours to be shared.

Now you've let yourself stay too long into a sense of security, a habit, nothing out of the norm, spending mornings with Ales before dropping him off Alonso, picking him at the end of the day and eating dinner together. Once in a while he would stay over his place, and you'd pick him up while having breakfast.

You didn't mind that— co-parenting with him near. You thought you'd perfected this routine, you've gotten yourself in the habit and slowly the pick-ups turned into lunch dates and dine-outs. Heck, you even let him call you late at night while you eat dinner after an overtime shift, you were sharing and learning all these things about Alonso you never knew before.

How he is as a father; how attentive he is whenever Ales is around, how he prioritizes Ales' comfort over anything, spending time and bringing him to work. All feeding into your brain, turning you into the same girl who met him years ago. The man you promised to be with, get married to, planned to start a family with.

Though a little bit out of order and some not even done, you found yourself in the illusion of wanting to be with him again. And that despite the years of your grudge, his magnetic pull on you causes you to fall into the comfort of his arms.

Pulling back from your thoughts, you find yourself watching the trees pull away from your vision as you leave Alonso's apartment complex.

Leaning against the window of Lance's car, you slowly let the soft hum of the engine lull you back to sleep. Ignoring the rest of the evening, your thoughts revisit your date with Alonso a few nights before the raging thunderstorm.

"I'm excited! Are you excited Mama?" Ales was bouncing off the room, his excitement having no bounds as he skipped along your room.

"Papa is excited as well, he said that if I do good I'll have a surprise gift! Can you believe that?" You laugh at Ales' antics, watching him through the view of your mirror.

"Do you want to go out more with Papa?" You were in awe of Ales' acceptance of your co-parenting situation with Alonso. It's been two years since then, and you're surprised by how his bond with Alonso grew.

Two years ago you couldn't imagine yourself spending more than thirty minutes with Alonso, let alone leave him with Ales. Now you've found yourself enjoying his updates throughout the day, whether it be pictures of Ales or random outbursts about how meetings in the office are boring, to his small reminders to take breaks, calling you in between shifts to talk to Ales for a while. It was a whole different Alonso that you knew.

It makes you think how time will slowly heal all your wounds.

When Ales asked about his father for the first time it didn't shock you. Throughout the first years of his life, Alonso was committed to being a father, although not present his work often left him missing weeks of Ales' life. And when he chose to race again, the weeks turned into months, and slowly you pulled away from him.

Your choice to leave him out of Ales' life was a selfish choice, not just for Ales who at that time had no idea what was happening, but also to you. Mainly because it hurts your pride that Alonso chose to race instead of focusing on your family, at the time you couldn't understand as to why he would choose racing instead of raising a family with you.

Thinking back it might've hurt Alonso more, he chose to race— all alone this time. You left him, leaving him little interaction with Alonso, and despite all that he chose to stay and persist.

"I like going with Mama and Papa, we can have dates together!" You smile to yourself, watching Ales bring his toys on your bed.

"Mama, do you want to go on a date with Papa?"

His question caught you off guard— you haven't really thought about your relationship with Alonso, especially since the co-parenting is going well, not only did his relationship with Ales drastically improve, your relationship with him was also begging to be defined.

Alonso has made it clear multiple times how he still loves you, not that you doubt his love for you, but you're definitely teetering around love and fear. You love him? Yes.

You don't deny yourself of these feelings, despite everything you've been together it wouldn't make sense if you didn't love Alonso, you wanted a future with him for God's sake. But fear came hand in hand, when you were dating racing became a divide between you two. His safety was always swept on the sidelines, something that you didn't enjoy, seeing as you encounter accidents in your profession daily, having to overthink about his well being during races wasn't something you could handle.

And when you got pregnant with Ales, eventually giving birth to him the fears only got worse, to the point where you had to take a break away from him. You slowly have to remind yourself that things are different now.

You turn around facing Ales, waiting for your response, "You think, should I go on a date with Papa?"

Ales shrugs, "You already go on dates with him, you always call every night and Papa talks about you a lot. He loves you so much."

You blink the tears forming in your eyes, a rush of emotions piling up on you. There's no better person to ask for the truth than your son, knowing Ales he probably heard you talking to Alonso multiple times already. Wiping the tears you stand up, wrapping Ales in a hug.

"I should go give Papa a chance hmm? What do you think about staying with Uncle Lance next week?"

"Papa, you know Mama wants to go on a date with you alone next." You freeze in your seat, watching Ales with your signature "mom" look.

You look away, a warm feeling rushing through your cheeks as Alonso's laughter fills your ears. "Really Ales? Mama told you that?"

You cough into the napkin on your lap, shaking your head, a measly attempt to divert the father and son pair poking fun at you.

"Now what were we talking about before this date thing... Ales, we'll talk about this later."

You catch Alonso looking in your direction, a small smile on his face before turning back to Ales. "As much as I'm happy to hear about this upcoming date, your mother is right Ales, you shouldn't say anything that doesn't involve you."

Ales tilts his head, "What does that mean?"

Before you could answer, Alonso inches closer towards Ales, "Think of it this way, would you want me to tell Mama that Uncle Lance gave you ice cream before meal time?"

Ales shakes his head furiously, lips pouting, "Why would you say that, it's supposed to be a secret."

Alonso's eyes widened, "See! That's exactly what Mama meant when she said that to you. You eating ice cream was something between you and Uncle Lance, so is it right for me to tell Mama about it?"

Ales shakes his head no, "I'm sorry for telling Papa about your date. No! I said it again, I'm sorry Mama."

Somehow the wholesome moment you witnessed only confirmed your choice of going on a date with Alonso. That and you also found him hot, but that thought is not appropriate in front of the table, let alone in front of your son.

You smile nodding at Alonso, "Thank you for apologizing, Ales. I'm sure your father is equally as excited and looking forward to this date now that you told him about it."

★ YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND — @namgification @nebarious @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @lxclerc @booksandflowrs @c-losur3 @lichterfee @moonyzsworld @e-nonsense @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @thearchieves @welovediaaxx @vogueprincess

#f1 smau #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #fernando alonso smau #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine

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janaispunk · 17 days

Text

come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up.

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality.

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move.

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine.

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff.

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.”

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different.

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?”

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking.

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?”

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking.

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.”

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal.

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance.

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising.

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach.

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake.

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize.

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself.

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast.

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all.

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?”

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile.

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers.

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?”

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?”

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.”

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move.

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.”

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back.

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding.

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again”

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you.

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine.

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts.

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait.

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.”

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.”

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her.

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him.

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story.

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom.

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies.

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well.

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?”

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity.

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?”

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective.

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask.

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table.

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something.

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?”

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction.

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze.

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more.

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast.

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?”

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red.

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night.

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story.

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile.

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs.

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#fic: safe and sound #janas fics #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

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spookyserenades · 2 months

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Trouvaille - Chapter Fifteen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 21.3k

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Updates on the 7th of each month

HI HI HI! Thank you all for your patience for this update while I was recovering from my cold! I'm excited to share this chapter, it's jam-packed with emotion, some uncomfortable confrontation, fluff, and of course, some more depraved smut LOL. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you again for everyone wishing me a speedy recovery and your unwavering support. (also pls excuse any typos fdskafdjf) Love from Dana 💜

As an additional warning/reminder, for the smut: the scene is explicit, and is only intended to be read by those over the age of 18. Please practice safe sex, and readers please have discretion!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“I know you’re mad at me, but you know why I had to break that up, right?” Yoongi watched Y/N though slitted eyes as she poured a rather large glass of white wine for herself, scoffing.

Ignoring him, she took a swig of the chilled wine and turned on her heels, returning to the stove to stir the onion she was in the middle of sauteing. Even she could feel her irritation and anger coming off of herself in vicious waves, perhaps stirring the thyme into her mixture of onion, celery, and carrot with too much aggression.

“Y/N, come on. The silent treatment is really childish,” Yoongi’s deep voice had an edge of grit to it, Y/N snorting humorlessly.

The sounds of the leopard hybrid storming over to her side filled her ringing ears, and when he gently grasped her wrist to pry the wooden spoon from her grip, she spun around to face him, gritting her teeth when he turned off the stove.

“Childish? That’s rich,” Y/N eyed the way Yoongi’s spotted tail was flicking back and forth in agitation, hating having to argue with him at all. “You can’t just prevent me from talking to the others, Yoongi.”

A muscle pulsing in his jaw, Yoongi took a deep breath while pushing his hair out of his face, taking a better hold of Y/N’s hand and squeezing it once.

“I get why that’s how you probably see it, but that’s not what that was,” Yoongi replied evenly, appearing to exercise his unending patience.

“Okay, then explain! You know I’ve been trying to talk to Tae for days! Now he’ll probably never want to open up again,” Y/N had hysteria welling up in her, unable to decide if she was jealous of the way Yoongi always seemed to be so calm and collected.

“Yes, I know, sweetheart,” Yoongi’s jaw tensed again, thumb brushing over her wrist bone. “But not like that. He’s never been that drunk, at least since we’ve known him. I was trying to prevent him from doing something he might regret once sobering up.”

Y/N blinked, reading the sincerity on his face, her shoulders relaxing down a couple of inches.

“You know, the kid’s kind of grown on me in the last few months. I know that he’d be humiliated if things escalated further, that’s why I intervened. Besides, I didn’t want him to put you in a tight spot. I’m aware of how much you care about him,” Yoongi continued, the pinch between his brows loosening up when Y/N seemed to cool off.

“Sorry…” Y/N murmured, suddenly embarrassed that she was so quick to lose her temper on Yoongi.

“Nothing to apologize for. Just don’t clam up on me like that, and we’ll be good,” Yoongi softened, lifting her hand to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of it. “Let him sober up, sleep it off. Talk to him in the morning.”

Cheeks burning, she nodded, Yoongi letting go of her and swiping her wine glass, taking a sip with a purr. He took up the task of stirring the base ingredients of the tortellini soup Y/N was making for dinner, Y/N sighing and leaning up to stamp a kiss on his jaw, his still-damp hair tickling the tip of her nose.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have wanted things to escalate like that… thank you, my angel,” Y/N hummed, reaching up to give one of his ears a scratch, his posture stiffening then dissolving into shivers as her fingers stroked through the short fur.

“You’re gonna take advantage of that weakness all the time from now on, aren’t you,” Yoongi’s voice was feathery, Y/N chuckling and mercifully releasing his ear. “Chop up that fennel, we’ll add it to the soup to bulk it up.”

Stealing her wineglass back, Y/N did just that, glad that her and Yoongi didn’t have to have an explosive argument over jealousy. However, as her knife sliced down into the bulb of fennel, her thoughts turned to Taehyung– reeking of booze, cornering her to a wall, unfamiliar flames in his eyes. She knew that the next morning, Taehyung would probably be avoidant and perhaps even embarrassed, and pinning him down to talk to him would be no easy feat. She had no doubt that the Kodiak hybrid wouldn’t be present for dinner, which heightened her concern– all that booze and no food didn’t add up to a hangover-less morning.

“I’ll bring him up some of this later, in a thermos. Don’t worry,” Yoongi once again read her mind, Y/N using the flat of her knife to slide the sliced fennel into the Dutch oven the leopard hybrid was standing over. “He’s definitely passed out, at the moment.”

Nodding, she gave Yoongi a pat on the back, getting to work on prepping some of the other ingredients for dinner. The silence was amicable, comfortable, so the sound of the slider door scraping open had her squeaking in surprise, nearly dropping the loaf of garlic bread she was putting into the oven.

“If you don’t get out of my face, fox, I’m going to take my Zippo to your running sneakers,” Jeongguk’s gruff voice bounced off the walls of the kitchen, brushing snowflakes off of the shoulders of his leather jacket.

“What? I just asked if you had feeling in your antlers,” Hoseok defended himself, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin as he returned from his evening run. “You don’t have to be so accusatory all the time.”

Y/N stifled a laugh, looking over her shoulder to take a better glance at the spectacle, Jeongguk scoffing sharply as he hung his jacket on the coat rack by the door. Apparently, it had begun to snow outside, both his and Hoseok’s hair dusted with powdery clumps of it.

“And you don’t have to be such a nosy, irritating son of a bitch all the time, but sometimes we’re just created a certain way,” Jeongguk replied, Hoseok frowning as he caught a bottle of water Yoongi was tossing his way.

“Forget it, I’ll just Google it later,” Hoseok muttered, collapsing heavily into the breakfast nook, his ears drooping. “Cold as shit outside, by the way. Y/N, you’re sure we can’t move to Florida?”

“What’s with you and Florida, Foxy? Got a secret past there or something?” Yoongi inquired, wiping his hands on a dishtowel after bringing the soup to a simmer.

“Not particularly. It’s just warm and pretty there all the time. Didn’t you mention February can be even colder than January up here, Y/N?” Hoseok expertly dodged Yoongi’s line of questioning, redirecting his attention to Y/N.

“Sometimes. Judging by all the snow we’ve been getting lately, it’s looking that way,” Y/N admitted, still put off by the idea of living through Floridian summers. “I guess I’ll have to look into booking a trip to Disney a bit more seriously.”

“Ugh,” Jeongguk was disgusted, usually the one to turn his nose up at a Disney movie Seokjin or Hoseok would put on during movie night. “At least they sling excessive booze there, so I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, we can drink around the world in EPCOT,” Y/N put a finger to her lips, trying to calculate how much park tickets, souvenirs, a villa, and transport would run her– she shuddered at the figure she came up with roughly. To boot, the three hybrids in the room stared at her blankly, like she started spontaneously speaking French. “It’s a park in the resort. You know what, I’ll tell you all about it if I can scrape up the funds for a trip in the fall or whatever.”

The slider was pulled open again, this time bringing Jimin and Namjoon in from the cold, Jimin with only sock-clad feet, his muddied boots stowed beneath a covered section of the patio to prevent tracking mess into the house. Namjoon had a stack of thick books tucked under one of his arms, his denim-sherpa jacket damp with snow, nodding once at Y/N before heading off in the direction of his bedroom, likely to deposit the materials. Ever since she gave the wolf hybrid the information about their upcoming consultation, he had been burning the midnight oil tearing through all of the books he had in order to prepare himself.

“Hey, Jimin, how are the babies?” Y/N inquired about the animals, tuning out Jeongguk and Hoseok still bickering about his antlers, and whether or not they had feeling in them– secretly, Y/N was curious, too. “Oh shit– are you bleeding?”

Y/N dropped the knife she was using to shave parmesan slices for the soup with alarm, eyes bugging out of her head noticing the blood on his wrist. She flew over to him at lightning speed, hands outstretched to examine the damage. Jimin exhaled slowly, handing over his forearm, Y/N’s face settling into a deep frown.

“I’m alright, now, Y/N. It was just Bandit up to his old tricks when I went to give the chickens their supper,” Jimin’s voice had amusement coloring it, a half-smile on his face when Y/N dragged him to the island to dab a paper towel over the minor wound.

“That cocksucking rooster. We should just sell it,” Hoseok squawked from his spot on the breakfast bar, looking up from the noisy Tik Tok he was playing aloud. “I think it’s evil.”

Jimin rolled his eyes at the comment, one of his sandy ears twitching, before he placed his hand over Y/N’s tenderly.

“It’s just a nip. I’ll go disinfect it and come right back,” Jimin assured her, Y/N’s stubbornness coming to a head.

“Let me help,” Y/N tailed the coyote hybrid, reminded of the time he tended to her injury, and wanting to give a little bit back. “Bandit… appropriately named. Or perhaps Lucifer would have suited him better.”

Jimin snorted, letting Y/N grab a hold of the thick corduroy button-down he had over his tee shirt, dragging her down the hall and into his bedroom. The room, as always, had a sereneness to it. Dark blue colors, neat and tidy, and smelling like calming lavender and the crisp outdoors.

“Okay, sit,” Y/N took control, pushing Jimin onto his bed by his biceps, his tail slightly thumping against his mattress as determination set the shape of her mouth. Making haste for his bathroom, she was easily able to locate his basic first-aid kit, one she had in every en-suite in the house under the sink, dragging it out to the awaiting coyote hybrid.

Sitting beside him, Y/N held out her palm expectantly, Jimin placing his forearm into her grasp with a gentle sigh of resignation. Wincing at the torn skin, Y/N quickly loaded up a cotton square with alcohol, dabbing at the site gingerly. Jimin, to his credit, didn’t wince or flinch away, simply studying her actions with his lip tucked between his teeth.

“Sorry, it probably stings,” Y/N mumbled, reaching for the soothing ointment in the kit blindly, applying it on the bite.

“‘S alright,” Jimin shook his head, his hand curling into a fist before his digits relaxed, Y/N wondering if it was an attempt to get past the pain. “It’ll probably be healed up by the morning.”

Humming, Y/N smoothed a Hello Kitty bandaid over his skin, recalling how quickly hybrids recovered from injury.

“I’m sure something like that happened from time to time when you worked on the ranch,” Y/N mused, reluctant to let go of the coyote hybrid just yet.

“Yeah, perks of the job,” Jimin chuckled, making no move to peel himself away from her as well, Y/N feeling the brush of his tail against her lower back. “Thank you for patching me up. Beats my buddies telling me to rub dirt in it or threatening to kiss it better.”

Blinking at that tidbit of information, Y/N watched Jimin’s eyes go far away, a tiny smile on his full lips. Without thinking, and while he was distracted, Y/N ducked, pressing her puckered lips to the pink bandage. All she heard was a sharp, quiet, gasped intake of breath, Jimin’s strong forearm going limp in her palm as soon as she kissed him.

“A kiss is better than dirt, no?” Y/N straightened back up, finally letting his arm go and pushing that pesky strand of honey hair over his forehead back to join the rest of his slicked-back locks.

Jimin was stunned, effectively pulled out of his reminiscing, his butterscotch eyes wide as he stared down at her. In the distance, she heard Hoseok hollering about dinner being ready, Jimin’s downturned ears twitching, Y/N leaping from her spot and motioning for Jimin to follow. She was halfway through the door when Jimin replied, though she didn’t end up catching what he said.

“Much better.”

The next morning, a Sunday, would have typically been lazy and domestic. Usually, her and her hybrids went about their own business; watching movies, playing board games, and attending to their hobbies. However, that particular Sunday morning, Y/N had left Jimin in charge of making sure no one got into petty arguments, and was carefully ascending the stairs with a plate of hot, greasy breakfast food.

Much like Yoongi had predicted, Taehyung had not joined the rest of them for dinner, which nobody else saw as odd. Taehyung was still rather introverted and not so keen on befriending anyone besides Yoongi, and the others were of course happy to ignore him. The Kodiak hybrid hadn’t hauled himself downstairs for the Sunday morning fry up, and Y/N figured it was as good of a time as any to get their uncomfortable conversation out of the way.

Reaching his bedroom door, Y/N balanced the plate of food on her forearm, a large glass of water in her grip, and used her free hand to knock on his door as quietly as she could. She heard a gruff groan in response, Y/N rolling her eyes and making her way inside the room, shutting the door behind her.

The room was dark, all of the drapes pulled shut a little haphazardly, and Taehyung was slumped on his bed, his arm dangling over the side of the mattress and one of his cheeks squished on a pillow. His wild curly hair was matted and sticking up in several directions, and as Y/N held back a giggle when he moaned again, his eyebrows knit together and his nostrils flared.

“Morning,” Y/N whispered, placing the plate of food on his dresser, putting a lid over the fried eggs, mountain of toast, and breakfast sausages so they wouldn’t get cold. Though she uttered the greeting only above a breath, Taehyung groaned, pretty much planked on his front on top of his quilt. “Oh, honey…”

Fishing around in her pocket, she pulled out a packet of Advil tablets, crouching down in front of him and offering both the medication and the chilled glass of water, one of his carmine eyes cracking open slightly.

After a beat, Y/N watched the hybrid sluggishly turn onto his side, propped up on an elbow, his lips chapped as they parted slightly. Moving at glacial speed, Taehyung refused to meet Y/N’s eyes as he accepted both the pills and the glass, eagerly taking the medication and sucking down half the glass of water.

“Bit too much to drink last night, huh?” Y/N began, planting her ass on the ground and wrapping her arms around her knees. Taehyung’s throat bobbed as he swallowed the Advil capsules, Y/N following the movement with rapt interest. “I brought you some breakfast. It’ll soak up some of that gin. You should take it easy today, Tae, I can bring up my laptop and you can do a little photo editing in bed or something.”

Taehyung sat up more fully, although the movement was clunky and lacked the typical brawn and speed that he usually operated at. Clutching his forehead, one of Taehyung’s sharpened incisors bit down on his lower lip so harshly he drew a bead of blood to the surface of the flesh. Sighing, Y/N got to her knees, reaching up and back for the plate of food, placing it on his bed in front of him. The Kodiak hybrid’s complexion turned a touch green, a large hand slapping across his mouth and nose, and Y/N swore she heard a guttural gag from the back of his throat. She’d been there.

“I know the smell is probably making you nauseous, but you’ll feel better if you eat. I promise,” Y/N encouraged, Taehyung’s round ears pressed flat against his skull, an animalistic grumble vibrating his chest. “I… wanna talk to you, Tae.”

Appearing to catch him off guard as he poked at one of the fried eggs with his fork, Taehyung blinked at her, his expression blank. Y/N suspected, judging by the vacant expression, that he might have blacked out the previous night and couldn’t remember anything that happened; including but not limited to him pushing her against a wall and letting Yoongi spoon-feed him tortellini soup (or so her leopard hybrid had revealed to her over her morning coffee).

“Do you remember anything about last night?”

“No… No, I don’t,” Taehyung set his fork down promptly, unease turning down the corners of his mouth. “Did I do something wrong?”

Y/N shook her head immediately, though she knew that Yoongi– and the others, if they knew, would beg to differ. Unfortunately, the silent denial did nothing to make Taehyung’s alarm go away.

“You definitely drank way over your limit, but you didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing I’ve ever done that drunk, anyways,” Y/N picked at the fringe on his rug, mind going to the memory of drunkenly pushing Yoongi against a wall and demanding his phone number. “Actually, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. I haven’t managed to corner you until now.”

“What did I do?” Taehyung ignored her latter statement, stiffening when Y/N leaned forward, plucking up a piece of toast and raising it to his lips with a cocked eyebrow. If he didn’t get any food into his system, he’d feel like garbage the rest of the day, hybrid healing skills or not.

“You seemed angry with me. I came home, you were listening to some jazz on Youtube in the parlor, and you had finished about half a bottle of gin. With no chasers,” Y/N only began speaking when Taehyung reluctantly took a bite of the toast, chewing robotically and staring at his hands tangled in his lap. “I think you were trying to tell me something, but Yoongi interrupted before you could say anything… and then you ran up here.”

Taehyung was quiet, his dark eyebrows pulled together as Y/N fed him toast, apparently lost in thought. While disheveled and still dressed in his cargo pants and hoodie from yesterday, Taehyung was nothing short of effortlessly handsome, even if Y/N could smell gin on his breath.

“Angry with you?” Taehyung mumbled, tongue flicking out to catch some jam on the corner of his mouth. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright, Tae. Keep eating,” Y/N encouraged, placing the fork back into his hand. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of this anecdote, but people often say that drunk words are sober thoughts. If there’s something on your mind, I want you to be able to talk to me about it. I care about you a lot, and miss having you around all the time. I don’t like… the distance.”

Y/N surprised herself by being so honest, stopping just short of spilling her guts and revealing her feelings for her elusive Kodiak hybrid. As she spoke, Taehyung made it about halfway through an egg before he pushed the plate away on top of his quilt, a frown on his face but the guarded look in his eyes softening exponentially. Looking down at her through his eyelashes, Taehyung heaved a great sigh, head tipping backwards and collapsing on his pillow.

“I’ve been acting immaturely, huh?” Taehyung breathed, his forearm draped over his eyes as he chuckled humorlessly, seemingly talking to himself more than anything else. “There’s no use in avoiding you, anyways. Stubborn and persistent.”

“So, you were purposefully avoiding me. Wanna tell me why? Does it have to do with… Yoongi and I?” Y/N probed, nearly whispering the last question. The corner of Taehyung’s mouth quirked up into a sardonic smirk. “Okay, I’m guessing that’s what it is.”

“I just,” Taehyung peeled his arm off of his face, sitting up and joining Y/N on the floor, pushing curls out of his eyes with annoyance. “Like Jimin. Wish you just told me.”

Y/N swallowed, looking down at her lap, shame filling her. Taehyung returned to his breakfast, munching on another piece of toast, leaning against his bed. She could hear him taking sniffs of the air delicately, probably smelling the emotions coming off of her, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how he sat several inches away, rather than pressed up against her like normal.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N’s voice was scratchy, picking at the rug once more. “You’re right, I should have told you.”

“That night, when I told you about how I ended up here, you said you trusted me. I trust you,” Taehyung admitted, Y/N slouching so low in response, she felt like she was curling in on herself. “I meant what I said, and I know you did too. But I couldn’t understand why you felt like you needed to hide your feelings for Yoongi from me.”

Not wanting to cry in front of the hybrid, pride somehow welling up in her and mingling with her shame, she willed her lip to stop wobbling, peeking at Taehyung out of the corner of her eye. While difficult to hear, Y/N could tell it took a great deal of courage for Taehyung to confess that to her.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up to any of you. I felt like everyone was finally getting comfortable here, and I was worried about disturbing the peace. Of course, I managed to do that anyways,” Y/N stared out of one of Taehyung’s windows, keeping her vision on the horizon so tears wouldn’t spill down her cheeks. “I trust you, of course. It wasn’t about me not trusting you, but trying to protect everyone’s… peace, I suppose. Comfort.”

“You can’t protect us from everything, Y/N,” Taehyung told her softly, Y/N all too aware of that truth. “There are going to be times where shit gets rough or uncomfortable, but we’ve all been through tough situations before. We can handle the truth, even if you think we can’t.”

Y/N was stunned by Taehyung’s sage advice, even if he was scolding her slightly. Nodding, she swallowed thickly, Taehyung reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder heavily. The contact had her spine going rigid, as Taehyung hadn’t so much as glanced at her recently, let alone give her a friendly touch.

“Is he… treating you well?” Taehyung’s low voice was barely audible, even right in her ear. The question made her cheeks burn, heart racing. Whatever she was expecting him to say next, it wasn’t that.

“Um, yes, of course,” Y/N mumbled awkwardly, twiddling her thumbs. “He loves me, too.”

“I know,” Taehyung removed his hand from her shoulder, getting to his feet and beginning to rummage through his dresser. “He’s loved you from the start.”

Gawking at Taehyung, looking at him from head to toe while his back was turned, Y/N was at a loss for words. Taehyung spun on his heels, offering a broad palm to help her up, a change of clothes tucked under his other arm. With a shaky grip, she took it, trying to catch eye contact, but the Kodiak hybrid avoided it.

“Tae…” Y/N began, feeling like the conversation wasn’t quite over, and she refused to let go of his hand even when he tried to pull away. “We–”

“Thank you for breakfast, you were right, it made me feel better. I’m going to shower, though,” Taehyung cut her off, squeezing her hand tightly before releasing it. “I’ll come down after… I’ll quit hiding, so stop worrying about me, please.”

“Oh, Tae–!” Y/N wasn’t fast enough, Taehyung’s hybrid strength and speed apparently returning to him, and he disappeared into his bathroom with a click of a lock, leaving her reeling in his bedroom, her palm tingling from his touch still.

Absently, she collected Taehyung’s half-eaten breakfast, and when she heard the shower turn on, it prompted her to leave the room, wondering if anything was accomplished by that conversation, if he truly would stop avoiding her, and how he knew about Yoongi’s feelings for so long. Humming sadly, she set her destination to the kitchen, thoughts still occupied with the flash of hurt in Taehyung’s eyes.

“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing, wolf?” Jeongguk shouted from the booth in the back of the old van, Y/N cringing in the passenger seat beside Namjoon, who had very sharply turned onto a side street. “Judas priest, try not to hit the curb.”

“Be quiet,” Namjoon barked back, pushing the pair of glasses he was wearing up his nose bridge. Y/N had gotten him blue light glasses so he wouldn’t burn his retinas while he was crouched over her laptop researching for hours on end. “You can’t even drive in general, so can it.”

Giggling into her palm, Y/N admired her wolf hybrid while he glanced at the GPS on his phone. His silver hair was parted and swept back neatly, and was wearing Y/N’s favorite sweater he owned, a cream cable-knit scoop neck. She tried her best to not ogle him too much, but the sight of his strong, tanned hands wrapped around the steering wheel and perched on the gear shift had her slightly squirming in her seat.

“Are we almost there?” Jeongguk, in fact, did not shut up, the sound of his thumb flicking a lighter making Namjoon’s bitten ear twitch.

“Excited, sweets?” Y/N tossed over her shoulder, adjusting the hem of her plaid skirt, Jeongguk snorting, though Y/N caught him twirling a pen between his fingers and tapping his foot eagerly. Jeongguk had also gone out of his way to look nice that afternoon, opting for a loose charcoal button-down and normal dress pants rather than his usual casual gothic attire.

“Please,” Jeongguk muttered, his voice muffled by the cigarette pursed between his lips. Y/N felt her mouth water, the elk hybrid’s hair beginning to grow in a way that made him look like a 50’s style greaser, complete with the shiny gel. “The possibility of interacting with paranoid humans all afternoon isn’t exactly enthralling.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N focused back on the road in front of her, not taking Jeongguk seriously at all. Jeongguk talked a big game, and certainly appeared intimidating with his glare, tattoos, and piercings, but deep down he was just as passionate about his interest in the paranormal as Namjoon was.

“You guys will get your first paycheck by the end of the week, isn’t that awesome? I mean, if we can wrap up the investigation and cleansing by then,” Y/N changed the subject, rolling her window down (manually, with a crank) to filter out Jeongguk’s cigarette smoke, Namjoon grumbling about the frigid temperature.

“Are you sure it’s legal for us to get paid?” Jeongguk asked incredulously.

“Uh, good question,” Y/N admitted, watching Namjoon’s hands tense around the steering wheel. “One for Ben.”

“Says we’ll be there in three minutes,” Namjoon pointed to the GPS, Y/N leaning forward in her seat to get a good look at the suburban street they were driving down.

It was just an average looking neighborhood in Newton, about twenty minutes from their own home, the houses sleepy Victorians and sidewalks studded with ancient trees. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, even when Namjoon parked his van outside of a little blue house shrouded by great oak trees.

“Is this it?” Y/N leaned across her armrest to check out the front of the building, squeaking out an apology when Namjoon jerked in his seat from the proximity, her cheek smacking into his chest. “Shit, sorry Joonie.”

“No, it’s the post office. Why else would he park here?” Jeongguk flicked the back of her head, Y/N flinching when one of his icy silver rings made her scalp smart. “Let’s go, we’re late.”

Muttering, Y/N massaged the back of her head, hearing the elk hybrid rummage around behind her for his bag, Namjoon unfastening his seatbelt with an apologetic grimace. Ever since she had scolded the wolf hybrid for speeding, he began going under the speed limits. The man was never really one for gray areas, moving from one extreme to another.

Pulling her coat closer around her body, Y/N jumped out of the old van, clutching her notebook to her chest and expelling a deep breath. While Namjoon locked up, she tucked the dangling wires to his Walkman deeper into his bookbag, snorting softly at the excited twitch to his tail.

Once in front of the door to the home, Y/N rang the doorbell, feeling the delicious heat of her two hybrids behind her like a solid wall. She hadn’t been that excited for an event in a while, even though it involved the unknown and people in trouble– the chance to spend one-on-one time with Namjoon and Jeongguk had her bouncing on her toes while she waited for the door to open.

Moments later, the heavy door creaked open, a thin, short woman appearing in the darkened threshold, a screen storm door separating her from the three lingering on her porch. The woman took in the sight in front of her with darting eyes, which had purplish circles beneath them, her hair a bit unkempt and hands shaking as she placed one of them on the handle to the storm door.

“Are you… Y/N?” The woman asked, her voice small, scratchy, and weary.

“Yes, are you Ms. Sanders? I work for Judy, I’m taking over her home consultations. She sent me all of the information you gave her about the situation in your home,” Y/N hoped that the woman would invite them in soon, the wind was biting and she could sense Jeongguk’s impatience without having to look at him.

“Please, come in,” Ms. Sanders– Erika, Y/N remembered her first name from the packet– pushed the remaining barrier between the outside and the apparently haunted house aside, Y/N promptly stepped into the house once the woman moved. “Also, please excuse the mess. I haven’t had much time to, um, clean up, lately.”

Namjoon shut the door behind him once everyone was inside, Y/N sneaking a peek at him sniffing the air with a thoughtful expression, Jeongguk looking awkward and unconfident, for once. Contrary to what Erika said about the state of her home, things seemed tidy, eerily so, and in the small den that they were led to, nothing seemed out of place, just lonely.

“I’d like to introduce you to my two hybrids, they’re here to help, as well. This is Namjoon, he’s very knowledgeable about all things paranormal, actually, all things in general,” Y/N gestured to her wolf hybrid, who exuded the confidence that Jeongguk seemed to be lacking. “And this is Jeongguk. He’s worked with a paranormal investigative group and has years of experience. Both of them successfully helped me rid my own home of an entity.”

“Y-yes, Judy mentioned that she’d be sending a team here for me,” Erika eyed the two hybrids standing behind Y/N like bodyguards, Y/N comforted by both of their contrasting scents in an unfamiliar place; floral honey and leathery smoke. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get anyone anything to drink?”

Y/N shook her head, the two hybrids following suit, sitting on her either side on the lumpy sofa in the living room. Y/N had to admit, there was a hair-raising, peculiar feel to the energy in the home, one that set her teeth on edge. Definitely different from the way it felt in her own house, Y/N could tell Jeongguk could sense it too, his dark eyes narrowed as he scanned the room.

“So, Ms. Sanders–”

“Please, just Erika is fine,” she sat on the sofa across from Y/N and her two hybrids, her frame sagging tiredly. The woman watched Namjoon methodically place his Walkman onto the coffee table, feeding a blank tape into the device. “Should I get the kids?”

“Actually, we were thinking that getting your explanation of what’s been going on first would be best. That way we can compare each family member’s experience to one another,” Y/N held her hands up, Erika halting her movements to rise from her seat, definitely a little bit jittery.

“Would it be okay to tape the interviews so I can review them later?” Namjoon addressed the young mother suddenly, his fingertip hovering over the record button and ears forward and alert.

“I’d let you film and broadcast on national television if it gave you an edge over whatever has been tormenting my family,” Erika insisted, Namjoon raising a brow but pressing down on the record button anyways, angling the device closer to the woman so the microphone would better pick up her voice. “So, where should I start?”

“How about when you first noticed things were becoming out of the ordinary. Nothing is too insignificant, so speak freely,” Y/N encouraged, Jeongguk leaning backwards on the couch beside her, ankle over knee, his journal opened up to a fresh page.

“Well, we moved here a little over a year ago. From Colorado. I separated from my husband and the kids and I needed somewhere safe to stay, far away… he’s an alcoholic, you see. My family is from Massachusetts, so I wanted to be near my folks god forbid my ex ever tried to come and find us…” Erika’s eyes became glazed over, Y/N trying not to react to her hybrids shifting and coiling in alert when a thump-thump-thump came from a wall behind the young mother, who apparently didn’t notice or was all too used to the sound. “Everything was normal, at first. The first six months here were perfect, idyllic, even.”

“When did that start to change?” Jeongguk spoke up for the first time, the tip of his pen tapping his lower lip. Erika glanced at Jeongguk, pulled from her reverie, and her expression became sharpened as if icy water was dumped over her head.

“It happened gradually. My son, Thomas, is non-verbal, but he started having nightmares eight months ago. He’d come into my room and climb into my bed, shaking. While he’s non-verbal, he’s always been quite independent and brave, so this struck me as odd– especially when the nightmares became a nightly thing. Unfortunately, I don’t know what his nightmares are about, because he’s refused to even write anything down about them, but I know they terrify him. That was the first instance of strange events, and he still has them almost every night.”

Y/N nodded, the sounds of Jeongguk hastily scribbling his notes down on the linen page of his notebook, and the crackling of the Walkman, filling the sad silence of the home. Y/N was reminded of her own nightmares that came with the haunting she experienced; the creature that chased her in her sleep, and the fear that crept down the notches of her spine had Namjoon scooching an inch closer to her subconsciously.

“After that, my Jules… She's always been a sort of flower child. But ever so slowly, that bubbliness has gone away, she’s been more introverted, edgy. I thought maybe it was just because she’s entering her teenage years, but she’s made some new friends at school. Ones that I’m not sure have the best influence on her.”

“How do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if there was some kind of entity Namjoon had learned about that was summoned when one makes shitty friends.

“They’re older than her, and whenever she hangs out with that group of kids, she’s out all hours of the night, ignoring her curfew,” Erika sighed, tearing her eyes from Jeongguk and shaking her head. “I’m not usually like this, I mean, my brother was goth growing up, so I’m more than used to the culture. But these kids are bad news, I know it. They’re less about music, politics, and fashion and more about teenage riot. Property destruction, drinking on the train tracks. Jules was never like that, so her sudden change in personality concerned me.”

“So, your daughter made a couple of friends who turned out to be punks, and her whole personality changed?” Jeongguk confirmed, though his usual condescending tone was absent. In fact, Y/N was very impressed by how much the elk hybrid reined in his attitude.

“I know what that sounds like, like I simply don’t care for her friends. But the more she hangs out with them, the darker her personality becomes,” Erika’s voice went rather quiet, now refusing to look towards Jeongguk at all.

“Sometimes, what ends up happening in a haunting involving children, particularly young teens, their moods are influenced heavily by whatever has attached itself to the teen’s home or even the teen themselves. There’s a chance that your daughter acting out, especially in a way that you disapprove of to provoke a reaction, is not due to her new friends, but instead, it’s something above her control entirely.”

Namjoon’s insight had Y/N blinking in surprise. Instantly, she felt a little sheepish about that shock, as she knew he had been doing extra research for the past several days– not to mention his lifetime of knowledge he was already sitting on– but it was impressive to hear him relay information like that. Y/N recalled how Seokjin had mentioned Namjoon was different in group settings outside of the home, more vocal. Perhaps that’s what her wolf hybrid was like at the book club, take-charge and confident. Y/N thought that Jeongguk would be more like that, but she was equally surprised by the elk hybrid’s quiet observations.

“So, you think the… ghost, or whatever, is what’s causing Jules to behave so differently?” Erika chewed on her lip, the thump-thump-thump sound returning, this time overhead, Y/N trying her best not to react. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeongguk jot something down urgently. “I mean, she won’t even talk to me. I don’t even know if she’d be willing to talk to you.”

With that, Jeongguk sat forward, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling the fabric up over his forearms. Raising an eyebrow at him, Jeongguk’s eyes flickered playfully in her direction, sticking his pen behind his ear.

“Is there any chance Julie’s friends look like me?” Jeongguk drawled, again, without any judgment, miraculously. Erika appeared embarrassed, nodding slightly.

“I–I mean, without antlers, of course b-but I didn’t mean to insinuate–”

“It’s alright, Ms. Sanders,” Jeongguk held up his tattooed hand indifferently, rising to his feet. “Julie might be more willing to open up to someone who shares a similar… aesthetic. The wolf, here, is too granola-crunchy, and Y/N certainly has more questions for you.”

Namjoon growled lightly beside Y/N, staring at the elk hybrid resentfully. To her wolf hybrid’s dismay, she was once again agreeing with Jeongguk.

“You think she’d be…? I mean, if you can get anything from her, please, try. I just want to know if she’s, um, as scared as we are. Her brother and I. If she’s seen things like us,” Erika, too, stood, her movements wobbly and frail. “I can show you to her room, ask if she’s up to meeting you. She knows that I’m having this consultation, anyways.”

“Ms. Sanders, Y/N and I are going to take a quick walk around the property while you and Jeongguk speak with Julie. When you return, I’d like to ask you about specific instances of activity,” Namjoon hooked a large hand around Y/N’s elbow, manhandling her to a stance, pausing the tape recording. Without even glancing his way, Jeongguk caught the Walkman Namjoon sent hurtling towards his head, the two of them having an unspoken plan already, apparently.

The young mother nodded, ushering Jeongguk up the narrow staircase to the second level of the home, Y/N spluttering as Namjoon dragged her outside, his grip strong as always, but tender and steadying. Heart racing, she grit her teeth at the nasty wind chill that greeted them once they were on the lawn, and naturally, Y/N clung as close as she could to Namjoon’s side without him growing uncomfortable.

“Why are we–?” Y/N began, Namjoon leading her to his van, letting go of her elbow once he yanked open the passenger seat, rummaging through his disorganized glovebox. “Joon.”

“Hold on, Y/N,” Namjoon mumbled, barely noticing that she was stuck to his back like a jetpack to shield from the bitter cold, teeth beginning to chatter. “I have an idea.”

Finally, he turned, his burnt honey eyes the only whisper of warmth amongst the gray of the sky, holding an array of objects in his arms; what appeared to be two, long, L-shaped pipes, a spool of red fabric ribbon, and a couple of packets, by the looks of it.

“Whatcha got there?” Y/N snorted, loving how much Namjoon was getting into the whole situation.

“Here,” Namjoon ignored her question, shifting everything but the little packets into one arm, taking one of her wrists, and aggressively shaking the pouches with a concentrated expression.

In the palm of her gloved hand, Namjoon placed a hand warmer in the center of it, promptly manipulating her wrist into the pocket of her coat, and repeating the same process with the other hand. Stunned, she stared at her wolf hybrid and registered the out-of-character action like she was a third party looking on, and Y/N wondered if the pink hue of his human ears blossomed because of the wind or bashfulness.

“Have you ever heard of dowsing rods, or people using them during paranormal investigations?” Namjoon asked after clearing his throat, turning again to lock up his van and break eye contact.

“Um, vaguely. I might have seen them use them on Ghost Adventures,” Y/N managed to choke back, the hand warmers keeping her fingertips toasty in her pockets. “Is that what those poles are?”

“Yeah. I figured we could just take a quick walk around the house with these, and we can mark areas that show any sort of reaction with the ribbon tied around a tree. While I handle the rods, you can try and read the energy beside me,” Namjoon motioned for her to follow him back up the driveway, thoughtfully reading her skeptical reaction. “I know you’ve been working on your energy readings lately, Y/N. You can do it, I believe in you.”

It was Y/N’s turn to be bashful upon hearing those words from her wolf hybrid. Namjoon’s approval was something that was hard-won, so the encouragement and praise had her floating straight up into the clouds. With those words, she thought she could probably scale a mountain if he was by her side.

Without hesitation, she trailed after Namjoon, curiously watching him shift the metal rods in his hands, and when they reached the side of the house where a large window looked into the living room, the wolf hybrid paused. Shivering, Y/N felt unease well up in her gut, the sensation of one thousand ancient eyes on her causing her skin to crawl. There was definitely something there, lingering around that window, perhaps in the brush, and judging by the movements of the rods in Namjoon’s hands and the frown on his face, he was coming to the same conclusion.

Saying nothing, Y/N simply sticking close to Namjoon as they made a slow circle around the yard, she concentrated on opening herself up to the energies of the backyard as much as she could, without risking attachment or harm. Namjoon was right, her practice was paying off, because she was starting to get a better sense of the types of entities that were lingering in the yard alone.

“Okay, get anything?” Namjoon asked, once they had landed back to the side of the building they first began canvassing, using his sharp teeth to tear a strip of red ribbon from the spool he was holding. “This window here seems to be the hotspot, but the house feels like it’s almost shrouded in something…”

“I think we’re dealing with more than one entity here,” Y/N admitted quietly, while Namjoon tied a knot around a little sapling under the window. “I felt a few different energies. Only one, in this particular spot, made me uncomfortable. Like I’m being watched. The others felt more organic, human.”

“And that’s just out here,” Namjoon added, but it sounded like he was talking mostly to himself. “Come on, let’s head back in. Jeongguk is done talking to the girl already.”

Absently, Namjoon reached backwards, one of his hands still adjusting the ribbon on the sapling, his fingers wiggling as he searched for Y/N’s grip. Mouth dropping open, she automatically slid her gloved hand into his, listening to his chest rumble as the residual heat from the hand warmers melted into his chilled skin. Never one to deny Namjoon his rare moments of actively seeking out any sort of affection, Y/N soaked in the moment as best she could.

“You still have that list of questions to ask?” Namjoon held her hand tightly as she walked up the ice-slick concrete steps into the house, so she wouldn’t slip.

“Uh-huh. We’ll probably be able to wrap up the consultation afterwards, schedule the investigation. With the energy I’ve felt so far, I think it’s best we get in here as soon as we can to clear it out.”

Back inside, Namjoon let her go, and the first thing Y/N registered was the teenage girl that was now sitting in the living room, beside Jeongguk, her hands tangled in her lap. Exchanging a sideways glance with Namjoon, she hurried into the room, taking a seat next to Erika and her son, Thomas, who had also chosen to join the consultation. Y/N noticed that the young boy was holding onto a plastic toy robot tightly, like someone was going to take it away from him.

“Tommy, this is Y/N, she’s going to help us,” Erika smoothed a hand down her son’s back, the kid blinking at Y/N in acknowledgement, similar dark circles under his eyes that mirrored his mother’s. Her heart broke, in consequence. “That’s the wolf hybrid I was telling you about, too, honey. Namjoon is his name. Tommy loves wolves.”

Tommy, indeed, was staring at Namjoon with stars in his eyes, squirming in his seat, Erika affording all of them a tender smile for the first time Y/N and her two hybrids had stepped foot into the home. Namjoon, embarrassed, sat on Jeongguk’s free side, offering Tommy a little wave, one of his sharp incisors biting down on his plush lower lip.

“Alright, kiddo, she’s probably got a few questions for you. She’s cool,” Jeongguk set Namjoon’s Walkman back onto the coffee table, Y/N’s eyebrows shooting into her hairline as the elk hybrid used the nickname he usually saved for her on the teenager that only seemed to be at ease because of the burly hybrid beside her.

Getting a good look at Julie, Y/N felt herself take a step backwards in time, the girl looking quite a bit like she did as a teenager; dark eyeliner, graphic band tee, chipped nail polish and holes in the knees of her skinny jeans. Julie regarded Y/N carefully, only after shooting a doubtful look at Jeongguk, then a resentful one at her mother, the girl’s dark eyes narrowing a tad.

“She’s how you described her,” was all Julie said, the corner of her mouth curling up in amusement as Y/N tried not to clench her fists– leave it to Jeongguk to offer up a sarcastic caricature.

“Hey, Julie, nice to meet you,” Y/N ignored Jeongguk’s smug, shit-eating grin, clearly pleased with himself that he was able to get Julie to be comfortable around them. “I do have a few more questions before we go ahead and plan the investigation. Which, when the three of us do conduct the investigation, you and your family will be safe and sound staying at a nearby hotel.”

“You’re not planning on instigating angry spirits, like those quacks on TV, are you?” Julie crossed her arms across her chest with a scowl, several brightly colored rubber bracelets around her wrists. Namjoon was busying himself with straightening out spare blank tapes on the table– he was always a little bit awkward around children.

“No way. That’s all Hollywood, anyways,” Y/N resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at Jeongguk, who was biting down on his fist to prevent laughing, which Y/N found both unprofessional and annoying as a gnat in her ear. “We just want to help get rid of whatever is bothering you. I’m sure Jeongguk told you a little bit about what was hanging around our house a few months ago… we were able to banish it permanently. I, and I’m positive my teammates as well, have no interest in provoking spirits for any kind of viral recognition.”

Y/N tasted the word “teammates” on her tongue like a saccharine hard candy, after all, it was the first time she was using it in reference to the sort of operation she had created with Namjoon and Jeongguk. Neither of them seemed to notice the significance, but both of them sobered with her words, nodding in agreement. Jokes aside, the situation was serious, and helping the family was top priority– thirst for knowledge and experience aside. Julie seemed to relax in response to Y/N’s promise, and without further ado, Y/N waited for Namjoon to start up the tape again, and she launched into her list of questions.

“Has the spirit ever shown itself physically to any of you?”

On the way back home from the Sanders’ residence, Y/N felt her frame sagging into the worn leather seat beside Namjoon, the tense of the house energy dissolving the further Namjoon drove from the address. She was ready for a hot bath and some mindless television, having more than enough of the paranormal for one day. A bit loopy, Y/N focused on the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror, the shape of it a cartoon flying saucer.

“So the mother has seen a shadow in the hall at night, usually when she gets off from work. Then we had the kid point at the window, which Y/N mentioned feeling like an entity watches the family from there–”

“Jeongguk, you can take notes silently,” Namjoon sighed, probably sensing how exhausted Y/N was, even over the folk tape he was playing quietly and Y/N’s attempts to stay awake by pinching her thigh periodically.

“Fuck off,” Jeongguk muttered, but lapsed into silence anyways. Y/N stole a look at him over her shoulder, and he was lazily propped up on his side in the booth, a pen cap sticking out of his mouth while he scanned his notes.

Namjoon had cleaned up the van in preparation for their journey to the Sanders’, stacking his books neatly and moving most of them up to the loft where the mattress was, considering it was not being used. He even brought in a few blankets and pillows to make things a little more comfortable, one of the throws currently over her lap. Y/N, as well, added her own touch to the van– upon the wolf hybrid’s insistence– and taped little battery-operated fairy lights around the ceiling of the vehicle. In the short few days the three of them made the van ready for longer trips, Y/N had grown quite fond of spending time in there, and her and Hoseok had coined it the “mystery van”.

“Joonie?” Y/N spoke suddenly, her voice definitely weary but catching the wolf hybrid’s attention nonetheless, his ears perking up cutely even with his eyes still trained on the road.

“Mmm?” Namjoon pushed his glasses up his nose again, turning down the radio.

“How did you get this van?” Y/N dared to ask. She hadn’t done much prying into Namjoon’s past, heeding the advice in her wolf hybrid guidebook to let him present information when he’s ready, but since he had softened up so much, she figured asking wouldn’t do too much harm.

“It was given to me,” Namjoon replied cryptically, though Y/N was pleased enough that he actually answered her to not pout about how little that was revealed. “Shortly before you adopted me. In Wyoming.”

“Did you teach yourself how to drive?” Y/N figured she might as well go along with it if Namjoon was okay with that line of questioning, and didn’t seem peeved she was being curious.

“No, someone taught me,” Namjoon’s lips were twisted up in amusement, casting a brief look in her direction. “Some things can’t be learned from books.”

“Ah, I see,” Y/N didn’t want to push her luck, wiggling further into her seat to get comfortable. She had about one thousand follow-up questions, but she had all the time in the world to get answers from Namjoon.

“I lived alone most of my life, in the woods, abandoned cabins. I never liked to stay in one place, mostly because I avoided running into humans… I came across this van deep in Yellowstone park one night in the spring a few years back, the awning was out, and an old woman was sitting in a lawn chair in front of a campfire. I’m not sure how she managed to spot me, but she did,” Namjoon shocked Y/N by actually launching into a story, her mouth agape and even Jeongguk’s furious notetaking had ceased. “I hadn’t had a real meal in… well, ever. She offered me some dinner. At that point in my life, I didn’t trust humans as far as I could throw them. But I could smell her sincerity.”

Y/N had no idea what to say in response. An innocent question turned into a whole lot of background on her wolf hybrid, and she didn’t know whether to begin recording him or stay statue-still.

“Her name was Joan. Most of the stuff in here is hers, she had quite an interest in UFOs and ‘mythical’ creatures. Over the next few weeks, I’d check in on her… she was quite old, and by herself, and I suppose having access to real food was tempting to me as well. I’d listen to her prattle on about things she’s seen in the woods, I’d share things that I had experienced in the wilderness over the years,” Namjoon continued, turning the windshield wipers on when a flurry of snow began to fall. “After a few weeks, I trusted her enough to take her up on the driving lessons, joining her on her trips to town for provisions. I didn’t live with her, but I’d spend time there every few days.”

“Did you steal an old lady’s camper van?” Jeongguk exclaimed from the backseat, a throaty growl coming from Namjoon in consequence.

“No, you asshole. There were a couple of weeks where I’d go to the van, but she wasn’t there. It was confusing, like she had just vanished, but I wasn’t so attached to her that I was overly concerned. While she was old, she was still a decent hiker. I guessed she had just taken a tent and gone for a little trip,” Namjoon turned off the highway, taking the ramp that would bring them back into their town.

“I was wrong. The last time I went to check on her, the van door was open, but there was someone else inside. Thinking it was an intruder, I took a look inside, but I recognized the younger woman from pictures Joan had, it was her daughter. Her daughter told me that Joan had checked herself into the hospital following up on her heart condition, but it was too late. She died within three days of being in the hospital, heart failure,” Namjoon frowned, ears flattening to his skull. “The daughter said Joan mentioned me. Wanted me to have the van. The daughter had no use for it, anyways… She was just collecting some photos. She said I could have it, gave me the keys, and I never saw her again. It was convenient, so I just started living in here.”

Ears ringing, Y/N couldn’t believe how much she had gotten from Namjoon with just a few questions, and she felt somewhat guilty that she hadn’t tried to get closer to him in that way, blindly following advice from a stupid guidebook. That aside, her heart swelled a few sizes; if Namjoon felt comfortable enough to share all of that with her and Jeongguk, he had really come a long way since his initial adoption.

“I’m sorry about Joan,” was the first thing Y/N could think of as any sort of coherent reply, putting her hand over Namjoon’s that was resting on the gear shift and squeezing. “She must have liked you quite a bit to leave you this van.”

“I suppose,” Namjoon agreed, letting Y/N keep her hand on top of his, navigating his way through the town square. “She probably just preferred someone keeping all of her stuff safe after she died.”

“What made you want to come all the way to New England?” Jeongguk’s voice was suddenly right beside Y/N’s ear, making her flinch and push his shoulder. He was squatting between her and Namjoon, staring out the windshield with boredom, and a piece of gelled hair sticking to his forehead. The elk hybrid ignored Y/N’s pleas to sit down for safety, much to her chagrin.

“History,” Namjoon shrugged, shutting off the GPS once the familiar streets of their suburb were in view. “I wanted to see what a city was like. New York City seemed too big, and Boston is certainly historical. Plus, I had never seen the ocean before.”

“Weren’t you originally from Los Angeles, Jeongguk?” Y/N changed the subject, emotions welling up in her. As time went on, it was clearer and clearer to her that she and her seven hybrids, by some cosmic intervention, were destined to be together, considering they had come from all over the country at the same time.

“Yeah. Shithole,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, using a wrist to smack a fresh pack of cigarettes against. Before she could ask him what he meant, Namjoon pulled into the driveway, the sky turning lavender as the sun disappeared over the bare willow trees. “I’m starving. Want a drink.”

Jeongguk straightened up, snatched his notebook from the booth he left it on, and with a flick of his lighter, was jumping out of the van and into the snow.

“Guess he had enough of us,” Namjoon remarked, unfastening his seatbelt and stretching his arms upwards, his shoulders popping with the movement. Snorting, Y/N shook out her stiff legs, folding the blanket over her lap and gathering her tote bag.

“He’s bratty when he’s hungry,” Y/N smirked, waiting for the wolf hybrid to lock up the van before heading to the house. “Maybe I should order pizza tonight, unless Yoongi made something already.”

Namjoon sniffed the air, shaking his head.

“No, nothing’s cooking. Just the fire in the living room is going,” Namjoon matched his stride with Y/N, his tapes and Walkman tucked under his arm. “Order pizza, I can tell you’re tired. The energy work must have taken a bit out of you.”

Preening under Namjoon’s observation, she stared at the snow-dusted grass, feeling closer to him than ever.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to take a bath before dinner. Put some cleansing herbs and salt in the water just to make sure nothing from the Sanders’ house is clinging to me,” Y/N watched Namjoon unlock the front door with the house key he kept in his pocket, her own hands reaching up to dust snow collecting on his shoulders.

“Good idea,” Namjoon let Y/N into the house first, Y/N sighing at the cozy heat and ambient lighting. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Huh?” Y/N spun on her heel, gawking at the wolf hybrid, who was blushing.

“For including us in these investigations,” Namjoon said simply, a faint dimple appearing on his cheek.

“Oh,” Y/N blinked, pausing in front of Namjoon’s bedroom door. “I don’t think I would, or could do it without you two.”

Namjoon’s ears were a vibrant shade of red by now, and with that final comment, he ducked his head, mumbling something about reviewing the tapes before dinner. She let him disappear into his bedroom, and in a sort of daze, Y/N found her way to her own room, opening up her notes app to find the pizza order document with a grin.

February had finally rolled around, and as Hoseok and Y/N both dreaded, it was colder than January. At the very least, the sun was staying up later and later, to her relief, but there had never been so much snow in recent years. She was up to her ears in shoveling the walkways, scraping ice off of the cars, and making sure there was plenty of salt and gravel on the well-walked areas of her yard. That particular afternoon, the first Tuesday of the month, Alice happened to have a day off from the newspaper, and offered to swing by for a bit to catch up.

“Where is everyone?” Alice accepted a hot chocolate from Y/N, sitting in the breakfast nook, glancing at the noticeably hybrid-free kitchen.

“Taehyung officially got his driver’s license recently, he took himself, Yoongi and Hoseok up to the rec center to sign up for the spring activities. Jimin’s out with the horses, Jeongguk and Namjoon I think are in the van researching some equipment we need to order for the investigation in a couple of weeks,” Y/N slid into the booth beside her friend, blowing the steam from her own hot chocolate. “Seokjin got roped into joining Hoseok. He pretty much got dragged out of here.”

“So what you’re saying is, no one will hear us if we talk shit?” Alice grinned, Y/N already knowing what direction the conversation was going to take before Alice said another word. “Spill. You have a glow, so things must have worked out with Yoongi.”

“Between him and I? Yeah,” Y/N grew a bit shy, even if Alice knew pretty much everything about her already. Except for the fact that she had fallen for all of the hybrids, not just Yoongi, and that fact was something she was ready to share with her best friend once and for all. “Some of the others? Not so much.”

“Oh no. Tell me,” Alice scooched closer to Y/N, her arm slung around her shoulders comfortingly.

“Basically, the rest of them caught Yoongi and I in the kitchen in a… compromising position, and that’s how they found out about us,” Y/N grimaced, Alice gasping.

“No way. You weren’t fucking in here–”

“Christ almighty Jesus! No,” Y/N squawked, blood pooling in her cheeks. “We were just kissing. I’m not that much of an adrenaline junkie!”

“Okay, I was gonna say, Y/N. Way to go,” Alice snorted, taking a merry sip of her hot chocolate. “So I’m guessing a handful of them weren’t stoked about walking in on that.”

“Actually, the ones I thought were going to be weird about it were totally fine,” Y/N chewed her lip thoughtfully, aware that Alice wasn’t too familiar with the nuances of each hybrid’s personality. “Jimin and Taehyung were really disappointed that I felt I couldn’t confide in them. Jimin has forgiven me, but Taehyung still seems a little off, even if he insists he’s cool with it. He asked me recently if Yoongi was ‘treating me well’.”

“Damn. He sounds jealous,” Alice leaned back with a wag of her eyebrows. “What I know about hybrids, especially the types you’ve adopted, they can get hella territorial. Maybe it's his instincts screaming at him to protect you.”

“Could be,” Y/N muttered, her cheeks getting even hotter at the thought. “Then there’s Seokjin. He hasn’t addressed it at all, it’s like he’s pretending it’s not even happening. He used to be the clingiest, but now it’s rare he’ll initiate any kind of physical contact at all.”

“Again, babe. Sounds like jealousy. I remember Seokjin, he stuck to you like a starfish and looked at you like you hung the moon. He’s probably in denial,” Alice frowned, watching Y/N’s expression become stormy. “What’s wrong? You have that look on your face like you’ve left something out.”

“Alice, it’s not just Yoongi I’ve fallen in love with,” Y/N rubbed her temples, deciding to just bite the bullet already. “It’s all of them.”

There was a beat of solemn silence, and Y/N could almost smell the wheels in her best friend’s head turning. Alice tightened her hold around Y/N’s shoulders, the smell of her caramel perfume wrapping her up in a deeper hug.

“I had a feeling,” Alice admitted quietly, squeezing Y/N once again. “That’s why you feel guilty that those three are keeping their distance.”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N felt the hot chocolate go sour in her stomach, though she should have known that Alice had caught on by now. Y/N wasn’t exactly subtle with her heart-eyes around the boys, even with others present. “I talked to Ben about it. I know it’s high school for me to say, but I’m so uncomfortable with the idea of confessing to any of them myself. The possibility of rejection is scary, of course, but seeing how much the boat was rocked when they found out about Yoongi and I…”

“I don’t have to tell you this, babe, but this isn’t something you can run from forever. I think all you can do is take it one step at a time… if you were to sit everyone down at once and admit your feelings to the six of them in one breath, I have a suspicion not a lot of them will take that confession seriously,” Alice mused slowly, Y/N already holding the same opinion. The last thing she wanted was to lump every confession into one sort of sit-down conference, for some reason, the potential scenario came off as cheap and rushed, to her.

“I just. I don’t even know who to start with. Maybe one of the boys that aren’t avoiding me like the plague,” Y/N said miserably.

“You know, there’s a chance one of them may come to you,” Alice encouraged, wanting to cheer up her friend. “You never know. Yoongi felt the same, maybe a few of the others have feelings for you, too.”

Perking up a little bit, Y/N let herself believe that for a few moments, imagining how nice it would be to be past all of the drama and confrontation, and simply living in love and harmony with all of her boys– like a storybook. Unfortunately, Y/N existed in reality and not between the pages of a children’s book, and she shook away the vision dancing around in her head quickly.

“I suppose we’ll see… Yoongi and I are still navigating how we act around the others, anyways. It’s a little tricky,” Y/N changed the subject slightly, knowing that Alice would be interested in some of the spicier things that had been going on in her life, rather than the tangled and complicated.

“I’m sure. If my man was half as sexy as your Yoongi, you’d need a crowbar to pry me off of him at any given moment,” Alice deadpanned, Y/N choking on a sip of her drink, Alice’s throaty laugh filling the empty kitchen. “How does that work, by the way? I mean, with hybrid hearing… have you guys even…?”

“Uh… yeah, we have,” Y/N shrunk down in her seat, embarrassed. “The music room is soundproof.”

“Y/N, you naughty girl! Wait, so like. Is that going to become like the Red Room like in 50 Shades? Like, you’re only going to fuck in there?” Alice, true to herself, brought some humor into the situation, Y/N giggling despite herself.

“I mean, no, I don’t think so,” Y/N managed through laughter, relieved to have some time with her friend and talk about such things. “As hot as it was… I mean we’re probably going to end up sleeping together in a bed at some point. I think it’s futile to pretend we’re not going to be intimate, the others aren’t stupid. I suppose I’ll just have to keep my sound level in check.”

“Okay, so clearly he doesn’t suck in bed, if that’s your response,” Alice teased, poking Y/N in the cheek. “Lucky lady. You do deserve it though, after all those years of The Great Dry Spell.”

“He’s perfect,” was all Y/N responded with, trying not to let her eyes glaze over with the memories of their tryst in the music room. “God. I’m sweating. Let’s talk about something else before I start chewing on the table.”

“I have an idea,” Alice straightened up after several moments of the girls laughing at Y/N’s fluster, taking up one of Y/N’s hands with mischief in her eyes. “Before you shoot it down, think about A) how fun it would be, and B), the potential amazing rewards.”

Making a motion for her to spit it out, Y/N braced herself for something ridiculous.

“You’d do this in small doses, of course– the fact that some of them seem to be jealous is evident. Why not tease them a little? Give Yoongi a kiss here and there in front of them, bat your eyelashes… I’m not saying be a menace with the PDA, but I think well timed PDA might coax one of them into slipping. I know you, if you had more of an idea that one of them had romantic feelings for you, you’d feel better about confessing. Just a thought.”

Y/N mulled that over while draining the rest of her mug, furrowing her eyebrows. That was the exact kind of scheme her, Alice, and Laura would pull when they were teenagers with their high school crushes, and usually, it worked like a charm. Now, however, Y/N felt a little funny about it.

“I don’t know… wouldn’t that be manipulative? Wouldn’t I be using Yoongi?”

“Y/N. Do you seriously think your leopard male hybrid who is in love with you would be upset that you kiss him in front of others? Hello? They’re all about possession. You’re not manipulating, either. Just think of it as a gentle kick in the ass for the others to sort out how they feel,” Alice rolled her eyes, Y/N regretfully realizing her friend was right.

“I’ll think about it. If it blows up in my face, though–”

“If it blows up in your face, I’ll take responsibility. It won’t though,” Alice collected the empty mugs, standing from the breakfast nook. “Alright, babe. We need to catch up on some Below Deck, and I want some dirty details about your man.”

Snorting, Y/N nodded, ready to have a couple of hours to gossip and watch trash reality with a girlfriend. She felt lighter, truly, that she told Alice how she felt about all of the hybrids, and was grateful that Alice not only offered her advice from a different point of view, but made her smile, too. As Alice dragged her to the parlor, Y/N wondered who she was in her past life to not only deserve her boys, but her friends, as well.

“Come on, Y/N, try it!” Hoseok attempted to grab Y/N by the ankle, his russet tail wagging happily as he teasingly pressed the ‘on’ button to his Hypervolt. “You’re being a wuss.”

“Hoseok. I have tried it. Last time you pressed that against the back of my neck without me knowing, I thought I was having a stroke,” Y/N was able to wrestle her ankle free from her fox hybrid’s grip, her ass sore from sitting on the rough surface of the rec center’s indoor track. “I’m not the one about to run a mile. Focus on your own calves.”

“Oh, please, just a couple of seconds,” Hoseok was too quick for her to evade his grabby hands for long, his strong, nimble hands clasping around her ankle again with a cheeky grin.

“Ho-seok,” Y/N groaned as soon as the vibrating tool dug into the meat of her calf, and regretfully, she was eating her words– after a few days of being on her feet at work, the sensation was delicious. “F-focus, honey. It’s the first meet of the season.”

“Yeah, so? You’re the only one who came. Even Jinnie abandoned me, reading his stupid books,” Hoseok ignored her plea to focus on his warm-up stretches, moving the Hypervolt further up her calf, Y/N praying she wouldn’t melt into a puddle of moans and groans at the sensation.

“They’re r-reading a Murakami book this w-week. Hoseok, stop!” Y/N weakly pushed his hands away, pouting at him. “It’s like almost 1,000 pages. He wasn’t doing it to spite you.”

“He could have read it here!” Hoseok countered, though obediently put his Hypervolt back into his gym bag and began to stretch out his quads in front of her. “Whatever. I’m only doing one event tonight, we'll be outta here in like an hour or so.”

“What do you want for dinner? We’ll pick up something on the way home,” Y/N pulled Hoseok’s number from his gym bag, shifting forward on her knees so she could pin it to his jersey tank.

“Chinese. I want a bucket of fried rice,” Hoseok replied without hesitation, Y/N making sure his mahogany waves were suitably held back by the sweatband around his forehead.

“That can be arranged,” Y/N agreed, squeaking in surprise when one of the announcers reminded the mile runners that they had ten minutes before they had to be at the starting line, Hoseok perking up. “Couple of questions for you?”

“Darling?” Hoseok cocked his head, nose twitching in her direction.

“Your birthday is this month. What would you like to do, my social butterfly? Wanna throw a party, or go somewhere specific? A club, a bar?”

Any trace of sly humor disappeared from Hoseok’s face in a flash, astonishment replacing it, before he ever-so-elegantly recovered, a neutral expression taking over.

“That’s a lot to think about. It’s still a little ways away, can I think about it?” Hoseok responded carefully, his hands coming up to rub his lean biceps.

“Think about it as long as you need. Unless you actually want to go to a club, I’ll have to book that ASAP,” Y/N leaned back on her palms, praying that his event would go by quickly so her ass wouldn’t be scraped up any further by sitting on the rough concrete. “Gift ideas, too. You like clothes, but you have a bunch of those already… we could go to a sports game? Or we could go to a music festival, I know you’ve been interested in that. There’s one next month here in Boston, I heard The Foo Fighters are headlining one of the days.”

“Y/N, that’s a lot to give a guy to think about before he has to perform athletically,” Hoseok whined, but Y/N could see embarrassment plain as day in his mocha eyes. “I’ll let you know, alright? Whatever you do for my birthday will be more than enough, though, without a doubt.”

Mouth open to reply, Y/N was cut off by a whistle blowing, Hoseok nimbly hopping to his feet, his cheeky, gorgeous grin back in place. He looked like a young god in his uniform, full of life and vigor, one that governed over the sun and daylight. Before she could speak, Hoseok used his hybrid swiftness to bend forward, pressing a light kiss to Y/N’s forehead at lightning speed.

“Wish me luck, my darling! Order some egg rolls for Jinnie while you’re at it, too, alright?” Hoseok winked, whistled his trademark, and jogged off towards the starting line, leaving Y/N wooden and staring after him.

Of course, Hoseok ended up winning– he had a streak, at that point, and was considered the star of the team, especially for his particular event. It was a shame, truly, that the rest of her hybrids didn’t want to be there to support the fox hybrid– but Y/N supposed with the near-weekly meets, it interfered with their own interests and hobbies. Besides, Y/N never missed a track meet, a basketball game, or a photography expo. Hell, if there were oral reports during her mother’s book club, she’d be there an hour in advance to hear whatever Seokjin and Namjoon had to say about a book she had never read.

The next day, Wednesday, Y/N was beat from work, after Judy had her totally rearrange the store’s inventory for the spring. There was enough leftover Chinese food for her and the hybrids to pick at for dinner over a marathon of Curb Your Enthusiasm, and by the time she dragged herself to bed, her eyes were nearly crossed. The only thing that prevented her from drooling into her pillow immediately was the sound of her phone chiming on her nightstand, Y/N grumbling and blindly reaching for it, tapping on the text notification.

Yoongi 👼🏻: can’t sleep : (

Y/N: sorry, angel 😭 something wrong? Need some tea?

Yoongi 👼🏻: no, just u

Yoongi 👼🏻: come up, stay with me?

Suddenly wide awake, Y/N sat up in bed like she was electrocuted, her heart hammering in her chest. Bunching her quilt up in her fists, she was torn– there was nothing she wanted more than to sleep with Yoongi, but she dreaded the thought of sneaking out of his room in the morning and stumbling into Seokjin, Taehyung, or Jeongguk on the second floor.

“Fuck it. We’re going with Alice’s plan,” Y/N muttered to herself, and as if on autopilot, she made her way to the second floor miraculously without turning on any lights.

Yoongi’s door was ajar, and it appeared that he was the only one still awake, lamplight only coming from his room, fortunately. Promptly, she slipped inside, chest rumbling in satisfaction when Yoongi’s scent filled her senses powerfully.

“That was fast for a little human,” Yoongi emerged from his bathroom, Y/N trying not to drool out of the side of her mouth with his bare chest on display. His sweats were slung low on his narrow hips, spotted tail curled around one of his legs, and Y/N suddenly felt exposed in her own tank-and-shorts pajama set.

“Do you want me to stay or not,” Y/N hissed, hands on her hips. Yoongi rolled his eyes, tongue poking into his cheek. The leopard hybrid shuffled over to his bed, dramatically collapsing onto it, his arms behind his head with a smirk. “Are you trying to smize your way out of a smartass remark?”

Y/N swallowed, her throat completely parched, dragging her eyes over his strong arms; the veins mapping his forearms, the pink tint to his bent elbows, the dark hair of his armpits. Briefly, Y/N internally cursed Yoongi for making her so whipped for him, she was attracted to armpits.

“Is it working? Smells like it is,” Yoongi lifted a brow, tongue swiping over his lower lip and a free hand reaching up to fiddle with the silver chain around his neck. “Come here.”

“Yoongi. We’re just sleeping. You have a game tomorrow,” Y/N warned, though she lowered her knees to his mattress, crawling up the length of if so she could lay beside him. “Don’t seduce me.”

“Speak for yourself,” Yoongi accused, his eyes darkening as he watched her climb to his side. “Miss you.”

Y/N hummed, rolling onto her side, sticking her face into Yoongi’s neck, breathing in his cologne. Automatically, Yoongi began to purr, using one of his hands to grasp onto Y/N’s thigh, hooking it over his body. Her skin tingled where he touched her, especially when he began to trace shapes over her thigh, just below the hem of her shorts.

“Miss you too,” Y/N mumbled into his neck, planting a gentle kiss on the tender skin, Yoongi shivering beneath her. Already, her eyes felt heavy, tangled up with her lover, his soothing purrs like a sweet lullaby. “Turn off the light. Early morning.”

Grunting, Yoongi yanked on the chain to his lamp, plunging the room into darkness, Y/N sighing happily when he pulled his quilt up over the two of them. Y/N rested her palm over Yoongi’s heart, the steady beats of it beneath her touch comforting.

“Love you, baby,” Y/N whispered into the darkness, Yoongi’s tail wrapping around her waist, and she could tell he was already slipping into unconsciousness by the way he murmured the same sentiment back, slurred and heavy.

The next morning, Y/N pretty much had to push Yoongi off of her, his body on top of hers, cheek squished against her chest, his twitching ears tickling under her chin. He groaned and complained when she rubbed his back to wake him, and Y/N fought the urge to simply fall back asleep with him on top of her.

“Come on, you big kitty, gotta have some breakfast before the game,” Y/N wheezed as she managed to roll him onto his side, his long hair sticking up in the back. His eyes were still shut as he stumbled out of bed, making Y/N snort into her palm. Usually, Yoongi was one of the first hybrids up in the morning, but Y/N had never seen him before his first cup of coffee. “I’ll make something for you while you get ready.”

Yoongi frowned, not wanting to part with her yet, but she left his room with a grin as he shrugged on his jersey with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. No one else appeared to be up yet, all of the bedroom doors on the second floor still shut, so Y/N was able to tip-toe down the creaky staircase without a confrontation.

After a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, Y/N was writing a brief note to tell the others where her and Yoongi were that morning, they were off to the rec center, Y/N letting Yoongi drive there. The weather was cold and damp, but at least there wasn’t any snow coming down from the sky on their drive in, but Y/N barely felt the chill with Yoongi’s hand on her knee while he drove.

It wasn’t her first time in the rec center’s indoor gym, the floors buffed to a blinding shine and wooden bleachers surrounding the court, but because it was a new season, she felt like it was a different place. Once Y/N tied up Yoongi’s hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek, he was off to warm up with his teammates, and Y/N found a spot on the bleachers to watch the game. One eye on her leopard hybrid, she fumbled for her phone, which was buzzing away in her pocket. It was a notification of a reminder– in three days time, Valentine’s day, was the cooking class with Seokjin. Smiling a bit wistfully, she screenshotted the reminder, sending it to Seokjin over text.

Y/N: excited for our class!!

Seokjinnie 🌸: me too ≽^•⩊•^≼

Y/N: cute emoji omg! Is that supposed to be u?

Seokjinnie 🌸: ᡣ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶𐭩 ♡

Y/N flinched when Yoongi’s coach blew her whistle aggressively, promptly setting down her phone and getting ready to watch Yoongi play. He dropped into total concentration, listening to his coach with his lip tucked between his teeth, before getting into position and watching the coaches to a coin flip. She was getting lost in checking him out when she was rudely interrupted by someone saying his name– several feet from beside her.

“Number 54? Yeah, his name is Yoongi,” a high-pitched, girlish voice declared to her friend, and Y/N knew that she was gawking at them, but she wanted to know how she knew her leopard hybrid’s name. “Isn’t he hot?”

Y/N grit her teeth, realizing the two girls were actually hybrids, dressed in tennis skirts and both with canine sets of ears. Y/N recognized the uniforms they were wearing, belonging to the rec center’s tennis team, which means it was likely that they had seen Yoongi around before. Instantly, jealousy bloomed in her gut, and she had to tear her eyes from the two of them, fidgeting in her seat. She was pretty sure neither of the girls had noticed her staring at them, but she didn’t want to get caught, so she chose to discreetly eavesdrop instead.

“He’s super hot. Like a rockstar or something,” the second girl, the one with darker hair, agreed. “I heard he’s like the best player on the team.”

“For sure, that’s what Trixie said. She used to watch the basketball team practices last season just to see him play.”

Now, Y/N was absolutely positive she was filling the gym with the acrid scent of jealousy, but if the girls noticed, neither of them even looked in her direction. Y/N wasn’t stupid or blind, she knew how gorgeous and talented Yoongi was, but it was never fun to hear others fawn over one’s boyfriend. Gripping the bleachers tightly, Y/N tuned the hybrid girls out, focusing on Yoongi, who had already stolen possession of the ball.

Luckily, the game became a nail-biter, enough to distract her from the girls beside her. Y/N’s throat was hoarse from hollering Yoongi’s name, and she managed to get a pretty decent video of him scoring– by the end of the game, Y/N could barely speak, but Yoongi’s team had won. Before she could launch herself onto the court to give him a hug, he was pulled away by his teammates, who were thumping him on his back and pushing him towards the locker room. This made Y/N pout, but she knew that Yoongi would want to take a shower before they hit the road, so she busied herself on the phone, ignoring the giggles of the two hybrids beside her.

Hoseok 🦊: heads up, darling

Hoseok 🦊: we’re all heading out, taking the car. Errands to run!

Y/N: errands???

Hoseok 🦊: ye, ghostbusters need some equipment. Jinnie wanted to make something for dinner so gotta go to the store. The bear needs to pick up his photos while we’re there, and we’re dragging Jimin along so he can spend time with beings that AREN’T horses

Y/N: okay, thanks for letting me know foxy

Y/N: have fun, be safe, and think about plans for your birthday, pls!

Hoseok 🦊: i’ll make a list :3

“Ready to go?” Yoongi approached her, his hair damp and his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his footsteps echoing in the near-empty room. When he was in front of her, a smirk on his face, the two girl hybrids stopped whispering, and Y/N knew that they were checking him out, and she didn’t like that one bit.

Pocketing her phone, she recalled her earlier jealousy, and apparently catching him off-guard, Y/N launched forward, jumping up into his arms with an oof coming from the back of his throat. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Y/N held him tightly, hiding her face in his neck.

“Whoa, I didn’t win the NBA finals,” Yoongi chuckled, using one arm around her lower back to keep her supported, his chest vibrating with purrs. “Sweetheart–”

She cut him off, cupping his face urgently, descending her lips on his in a powerful kiss. He made a feline noise of surprise, his mouth parting, and Y/N took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, trying to inject every ounce of passion she had into it. After a split second, Yoongi recovered, kissing her back, his arm tightening its hold on her. Not wanting to draw it out too much, her jealousy melting into sheepishness, she broke away with one last peck to his lower lip, Yoongi’s eyes full of surprise and delight.

“What was that for?” Yoongi asked, breathlessly, Y/N giggling like a schoolgirl as he lowered her back to the ground.

“What? I can’t kiss my man?” Y/N replied, parroting his sarcastic remark he had once made in front of Taehyung. Yoongi blinked, stunned out of a response, Y/N tucking a lock of hair behind his ear before tangling one of her hands with his. “Let’s go home, angel.”

Y/N didn’t even look at the two girls that were gaping at the pair of them, but she knew that they were so caught off guard, they forgot to “congratulate number 54 when he comes out of the locker room”. Smugly, she left the gym with Yoongi on her arm, and she realized once they got to the car: Yoongi didn’t even notice those two girls, his attention had been on her completely.

“Where’s the other car?” Yoongi frowned, pulling into the driveway carefully, never once letting go of Y/N’s hand.

“Hoseok took it out with everyone to run some errands. On the bright side, I don’t think either of us will have to cook dinner, Seokjin wants to make something tonight,” Y/N hopped out of the car, suddenly struck by the fact that the two of them were alone, which had her pulse speeding up.

“Ah. Giving us space,” Yoongi read her mind, chuckling. She stuck her tongue out at him while his back was turned, dragging his gym bag out of the backseat, and ditched him in the driveway to unlock the front door.

Y/N headed straight for the kitchen for a glass of water, lamenting the fact that it was still too early for a glass of wine. Bouncing around in her skull were not only images of Yoongi jogging up and down the court, commanding the respect and admiration of his teammates, but the sounds of the two hybrid girls gushing over him. Embarrassingly, Y/N felt her jealousy return, hardly noticing Yoongi in the foyer as she stomped up the stairs, scooping up his gym bag as she went. She thought perhaps doing something as mundane and mind-numbing as a load of laundry would help her get a grip.

Grumbling, she tossed Yoongi’s sweaty uniform into the wash along with Hoseok’s, adding a few more articles of the boy’s clothes from the mountain of dirty laundry in the corner of the little room. Eyes glazed over as she tossed laundry beads into the machine, she stared at the little chart taped to the wall, the one that she and Seokjin had created so laundry duty was tackled by a different housemate every day.

“What’s the matter?” Yoongi startled her in the doorway to the laundry room, making her whack a knee against the dryer with a cry.

“Nothing,” Y/N composed an innocent expression on her face, folding a pair of Jimin’s jeans and stacking them on the shelf.

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s voice had a warning tone to it, Y/N cursing the hybrid ability to sniff out deceit. “You were fine just a second ago.”

“Why don’t you just take a whiff and guess,” Y/N grouched, Yoongi’s hazel eyes flashing. Without another word, Yoongi was pulling Y/N out of the laundry room with a tsk and a finger hooked in the pocket of her leggings.

“Fine,” Yoongi growled, pushing her against the wall in the hallway, pressing a knee between her legs and keeping her pinned with a hand flat on her hip. His face was in the crook of her neck, Y/N growing stiff as she felt his eyelashes brush her skin. “Ticked off. Insecure.”

Heart falling to her ass, Y/N squirmed against the wall, trying to get away from the leopard hybrid, humiliated beyond belief. Served her right for challenging a predatory male hybrid, in hindsight.

“Oh. Jealous,” Yoongi froze, drawing away from her throat, staring Y/N dead in the eye. “Why are you jealous, baby?”

Swallowing, Y/N shook her head, desperate to deny the accusation, but it was too late. She couldn’t weasel her way out of that situation, not with him pinning her down. Heart pounding in her chest, she shook her head.

“It’s nothing, Yoongi. Just forget it, I’m being stupid,” Y/N attempted to diffuse the situation, furious with herself that she had potentially spoiled the rare alone time that the two of them had.

“Is this about those girls sitting next to you at the game?” Yoongi asked incredulously, Y/N’s eyes widening a fraction. “Uh-huh. That’s a yes.”

“It’s dumb, but I can’t help it,” Y/N broke down with a whine, already feeling pitiful enough. “They were talking about how hot you are and how you’re the best player… ugh, it just triggered me I guess, you’re mine and I–”

Her words were stuffed back down her throat, because Yoongi’s mouth was on hers, hot and desperate, the force of the kiss causing her head to bump into the wall behind her. The hand that was on her hip moved, a forefinger and thumb pinching her chin to keep her in place, Yoongi already licking into her mouth with borderline abandon. Wide eyes slipping shut, Y/N released a ragged moan, her hands scrabbling to get a grip on his hoodie. Cocking his head, Yoongi bit down harshly on her lower lip, pressing his hips into Y/N’s before breaking away, his chest heaving.

“How could you think,” Yoongi began, interrupting himself by giving her another swift kiss, his eyes lidded. “That I’d even look at anyone but you?”

Y/N couldn’t respond; she was too distracted by Yoongi’s hand under her shirt, tracking a path up her abdomen, and his plush lips suckling the skin under her jaw. Gasping, she let go of his hoodie, hands pressing to the wall behind her, heat flooding through her system.

“If anyone should be jealous, it’s the other poor fucks who live with us,” Yoongi added roughly, bending to get a hold of her thighs, hoisting Y/N up into his arms, using his sharp incisors to nip at her collarbone. “They haven’t heard the noises you can make, haven’t tasted you…”

Y/N felt her head spinning as Yoongi carried her down the hallway, fisting a chunk of his long, inky hair tightly, the sound of Yoongi kicking his bedroom door open making her go limp in his arms.

Y/N yelped when Yoongi let her go, all but tossing her onto his bed, standing before her like a predator stalking its prey. In a wild turn of events, they both became possessed by lust, Y/N already feeling her core throb against the material of her underwear. Yoongi had a filthy mouth, she was already aware of that, but when he used it against her– she swore nothing was sexier.

“Don’t you know how I feel about you?” Yoongi rid himself of his hoodie, tossing it carelessly to the floor, swinging a knee over the mattress to cage Y/N beneath him. Y/N could only stare up at her beautiful leopard hybrid, his ears twitching with agitation, his silver chain dangling in front of her face. “Hmm? Love?”

“Y-yoongi,” Y/N breathed, overwhelmed. She reached up for him, hooking her hands around his neck, reveling in the quiet groan he made when she brought him down for a kiss, this one sweeter, more full of meaning, than the desperate lip-lock in the hallway.

“There’s my girl,” Yoongi murmured between kisses, probably smelling the love and affection she had for him rolling off of her in waves. Seizing the moment while he was lax above her, Y/N’s hands shot out, landing on his chest, sending the leopard hybrid sideways and onto his back, Y/N straddling his lap with a doped-up grin. “Fuck.”

Snickering, Y/N squirmed on his lap, watching his eyes roll back into his skull, his hands still on her outer thighs. Y/N couldn’t believe that she was as turned on as she was, trailing her fingertips over the smooth skin of Yoongi’s flushed chest, and further, she felt satisfaction fill her with the hardness she felt beneath her hips. Yoongi’s breath caught as one of her thumbs brushed over a nipple, his pupils dilating with pure want. Unable to help herself, she ducked down, mouthing at his chest, and experimentally, she grazed her lips over his nipple, Yoongi’s hips bucking up into hers with the action.

“Baby,” Yoongi’s voice came out strained, his hands squeezing her thighs painfully, one of them moving to tug on the back of her shirt, Y/N busy kissing a trail down his sternum.

“Yoongi,” Y/N returned, tracing the lines of his toned obliques, teeth scraping against his left pec.

Getting the hint once Yoongi yanked at her shirt once more, his other hand bruising the skin of her thigh, Y/N sat up, crossing her arms and pulling the material off of her torso, tossing it aside. She wasn’t exactly expecting to be in that position with Yoongi that afternoon, so regretfully, she was wearing a simple black bra, but Yoongi appreciated it with widened eyes nonetheless.

“Kiss me,” Yoongi requested, breathlessly, his hands trailing from her thighs to her bare waist, eyes nearly emerald with how much they had darkened. Not daring to disobey, Y/N fell forward, whimpering at the sensation of their torsos pressed together, cupping his jaw and giving him the kiss he asked for.

Not knowing where Yoongi ended and she began, she felt their legs tangling, Yoongi’s rough, jean-clad hips scraping against the soft material of her leggings, which were truthfully starting to become a little damp. Yoongi kissed the breath from her lungs, his tongue sensually rolling against hers, his purring chest pressed right up against hers.

“God, I–” Yoongi ground out, his form tensing beneath her when Y/N traced her tongue up the side of his neck, the taste of his sweat sweet on her tongue. “Fuck. Fuckin’ love you.”

“Love you more,” Y/N countered, directly in his ear, nipping at the shell of it, shuddering when his hands slid up her back, fingertips wiggling beneath the strap of her bra. With that statement, Yoongi grunted sharply, and before Y/N’s brain could process it, the world turned upside-down, the wind knocked from her lungs as she found herself underneath Yoongi again.

“None of that,” Yoongi smirked at her bewilderment, using a large hand to press over her mouth, his free hand ghosting over the center of her chest. A primal sort of glint took over his feline eyes, Y/N automatically opening her mouth to respond. Unfortunately, Yoongi was a step ahead of her. “Uh-uh.”

Y/N’s lips were pried open, two of Yoongi’s long, slender fingers pressing against her tongue. Two could play at that game, Y/N thought, her tongue swirling around the digits, hollowing out her cheeks. Frowning, Yoongi watched her expression grow coy, her legs wrapping around his waist.

“Smart mouth, should keep it filled,” Yoongi muttered acidically, pressing the pads of his fingertips more harshly into Y/N’s tongue, a tiny gagging sound coming from the back of her throat, making the tips of her ears burn. “Let’s get this off, huh, sweetheart?”

Unable to respond with his fingers stuffed in her mouth, Y/N watched helplessly as Yoongi slid a hand behind her back, unclasping her bra and pulling it off with a dark chuckle. One day, Y/N would learn not to provoke a hybrid, but honestly, the consequences didn’t seem to be so bad.

Finally pulling his saliva-slickened fingers from her mouth, Yoongi helped Y/N out of her bra, absently pushing the garment to the side so he could get a good look at her chest, a hand resting over her throat, feeling her pulse flutter erratically. Desperately, she was trying to pull him back down to her mouth with tugs to his belt loops, but Yoongi ignored her silent plea, both hands cupping her chest. Y/N arched into his touch with a soft cry, bringing his face down to kiss between her breasts, and in retaliation for earlier, used the rough pads of his thumbs to outline circles over her nipples.

“Hnngh,” Y/N winced, so sensitive his gentle touch was almost painful, Yoongi humming as he toyed with her chest, kneading the soft flesh in his hands, pinching one of her buds between his fingertips and pulling, rewarded by a heavy moan from Y/N. “Oh, b-babyy–”

Growing frustrated with the remaining barriers between himself and Y/N, Yoongi’s touch migrated to the waistband of Y/N’s leggings, using his strength to strip the article of clothing from her body, nearly passing out once he realized she wasn’t wearing panties beneath, her entire body bare beneath him.

“What are you doing to me,” Yoongi groaned, his jeans starting to choke the life out of his cock, and not in a good way. “Shit…”

“Need… n-need you,” was all Y/N could hiccup, completely exposed for him, but not feeling a single semblance of embarrassment about that. Tail curling behind him in mesmerizing shapes, Y/N gripped at his solid biceps pleafully.

“Needy thing,” Yoongi commented, sloppily kissing over the swell of her breast, enjoying the sounds of her helpless mewls. “God, I can smell you.”

Clumsily, Y/N tugged the zipper of Yoongi’s jeans down, yanking the fabric halfway down his legs, her breath coming out in pants as Yoongi laved his tongue over her nipple indulgently, hardly noticing she was trying to strip him. Gasping when he took the bud into his mouth, sucking and scraping his teeth over the sensitive flesh, Y/N felt her thighs get tacky with moisture, impossibly turned on and wanting.

“Please, Yoongi, please. Fuck me,” Y/N wasn’t above begging at that point, far past the point of no return, Yoongi distractedly shucking off his jeans and slotting himself between Y/N’s parted legs. The weight of his hips against her bare core had her clenching around nothing, and she arched upwards to seek out the hardness in his boxers eagerly for any kind of friction.

Yoongi simply hummed at her request, releasing her nipple with a lewd pop, one of his hands tracing over her hip bone before he mercifully ghosted his digits over her dewy sex, a low hiss coming from the back of his throat when he realized how wet she was.

“Always so fuckin’ wet,” Yoongi teased, batting her hand away when she reached for his wrist, a drenched forefinger swiping through her folds. “All for me?”

“Uh-huh,” Y/N canted her hips upwards, chasing his touch, whining thinly when he just missed grazing her clit. “Please. Want you, want you inside of m-me.”

“Wanna taste you first,” Yoongi smirked devilishly, Y/N beginning to protest, just wanting to feel him, but he moved too quickly, and all Y/N could do was sink her hands into his long tresses, his face now eye-level with her cunt. “All of this, and I’ve hardly done anything.”

Too caught up at staring at his fucked-out expression, Y/N didn’t have time to feel embarrassed, Yoongi using his strong grip to maneuver her legs over his shoulders, making himself comfortable between her legs. Whether or not he noticed that her thighs were coated in her slick was beyond Y/N, and due to the position he had manhandled her into, she couldn’t close her legs to hide the evidence of her overwhelming arousal.

Transfixed, Yoongi’s touch returned to her pussy, biting his lip when more wetness leaked out of her when his thumb brushed over her clit. She was so sensitive, responsive, tiny cries of pure want filling his ears, and it drove him absolutely crazy, paired with the scent of her lust. Wasting no more time, he locked eyes, her pupils blown out, eyebrows pinched, and kissed right above the hood of her clit, chuckling when her hips jerked in consequence. With a deft lick, Yoongi dragged his tongue through her folds, feeling Y/N’s legs shaking over his shoulders, a wail leaving her throat.

Y/N couldn’t help her spine from contorting off the mattress, yanking on Yoongi’s hair sharply, a muffled grunt coming from his lips as he wrapped them around her clit, humming lightly and making Y/N see stars. It was almost too much to bear, Yoongi’s sinful tongue dipping into her entrance, his forearm keeping her hips pinned down. Alarmingly, Y/N felt herself already hurtling towards her release, Yoongi’s mouth on her paired with the unbroken eye contact had her stomach tightening quickly.

“Yoongi,” Y/N whined, pressing herself into his face desperately, cheeks on fire when he raised an eyebrow, using the flat of his tongue to collect all of the wetness that had gathered between her legs, the erotic visual making her eyes roll shut. “Ah!”

Yoongi paused, assessing the mess he made of her, using a free hand to stroke through her folds, Y/N begging for more, for anything, and Yoongi didn’t want to tease her too much, so with one last breathy please, Yoongi sunk a finger into her cunt. Cursing at the tightness, he curled his finger, attempting to open her up a little bit, a second digit joining the first, Y/N writhing in his grip.

“Squeezin’ me, baby, are you gonna cum already?” Yoongi taunted, feeling her clamp down onto his fingers even tighter, her lip bitten raw as she cried out his name. “That’s it, honey.”

“Yoongi, want you,” Y/N managed to gasp, gripping the wrist that was between her legs, halting his movements. “Please, now, want you.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you?” Yoongi asked softly, pulling his fingers from her cunt, sliding the coated digits into his mouth, his free hand moving to the hemline of his boxers, Y/N’s eyes immediately dropping to the bulge beneath the fabric, her mouth watering. “Turn over.”

Blinking, Y/N shakily scooched up the bed, rolling onto her front, hearing Yoongi shuffle forward on his knees, his boxers tossed on the floor, Y/N turning her head slightly to get a good look at him, his sharp teeth prodding at his fleshy lower lip. Sighing blissfully when his hands caressed her hips gently, she squealed when he dragged them up, using his other hand to reach for a pillow, placing it underneath her, arranging her limbs so she was resting comfortably. Cheeks burning, she felt the pillow beneath her hips and lower abdomen, her ass on display as she arched her spine, leaning on her forearms.

“Look at you, waiting so patiently,” Yoongi’s touch returned, his palms landing heavily on her ass, making her shudder and keen, opening her mouth to tell him to hurry up. Before she could, however, Yoongi spoke again. “Ready, baby?”

“Please,” Y/N wiggled her hips, hoping to tempt him into picking up the pace, feeling sweat slip down her spine. She sounded wrecked, eager, and Yoongi groaned, holding the base of his cock in one hand, the other squeezing one of her cheeks.

Shaky breath rounding out into a moan, she felt him press against her weeping sex, running the tip through her folds teasingly, his own breaths coming out in labored pants, slowly losing control as he ground against her. Gripping Yoongi’s sheets for dear life, she huffed in annoyance at his teasing, feeling wetness dribble down the inside of her thighs in anticipation. After what felt like minutes, Yoongi stopped messing around, lining himself up, using a palm splayed across Y/N’s lower back as leverage and finally pushed in, only an inch or two, Y/N instantly clenching down on him with a broken whimper.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi grunted, moving as slowly as he could, and when his pelvis was flush with her ass, he weakly collapsed on top of her, bracing a hand beside her head. Y/N felt her walls fluttering around his generous length and girth frantically, the position she was in making him feel like he was in her guts, and she was hardly aware of the pathetic sounds spilling from her mouth. “This pussy…”

“F-full,” Y/N stuttered, Yoongi’s breath on the back of her neck as he let her get used to the feeling, grazing his teeth along the junction of her shoulder and throat. “Hnngh–”

“Yeah? Stuffed full of me?” Yoongi’s voice was dark, dulcet, and in her ear, and Yoongi was all Y/N could feel– pressed against her back, scent clinging to the sheets, cock buried in her pussy. “Fuck. Stop clenching.”

“C-can’t help it,” Y/N replied, Yoongi wrapping his hand around her waist, giving his hips an experimental roll, Y/N choking on an intake of air with the movement. “Oh, d-don’t stop–”

Moaning into her neck, Yoongi snapped his hips forward, setting a strong, almost punishing pace right away, unable to hold back, and wanting to fuck the jealousy out of her. Yoongi was always more fond of showing, rather than telling, anyways.

“I’m yours,” Yoongi mumbled into the skin over her shoulder blade, sucking a bruise into the flesh, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh filling his bedroom, Y/N’s voice scratchy from the constant mewls leaving her mouth. “Got that?”

“Nn– ah! Oh,” Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, the support from the pillow beneath her adding even more pressure to the way he was pounding into her, even the fabric of the pillowcase adding friction against her clit in the most delicious way. “Mine!”

“That’s right,” Yoongi peeled himself from her back, adjusting his position so he could fuck into her with greater strength, gathering up the hair along the nape of her neck and wrapping it around his wrist. “All for you, baby. Say my name.”

“Yoongi, oh my g– fuck, gonna cum soon,” Y/N wailed, the way he was tugging her hair back making her scalp smart, but between the pain and the pleasure, Y/N was nearly careening off the edge of sanity. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Yoongi spat through his teeth, not letting up on the pace one bit, kneading the flesh of her asscheek. “You’ve already got my cock, you need more?”

Contrary to his taunts, Yoongi gave her more, reaching underneath, using a forefinger to rub circles around her clit, Y/N’s vision going white as she came without warning, clamping down on Yoongi so hard he swore colorfully, hips stuttering against her ass as she writhed from beneath him. He let go of her hair, kissing down the length of her spine, helping her through her orgasm as best he could while keeping up the swift pace of his thrusts.

“Can you take a bit more, love?” Yoongi soothed a hand down her back, her body shivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm, nodding dazedly as she pressed her ass backwards into Yoongi. “Come here, roll over. Wanna see your face.”

Y/N was boneless, but Yoongi helped her flip over, tossing the pillow to the side. She whined when his cock slipped from her, but Yoongi was quick to remedy that, pushing back in as soon as her limp arms looped around his neck. Groaning at the new angle, Yoongi kept his thrusts slow, punctuated by a light grind to the spongy tissue of her G-spot, Y/N dissolving into a complete mess. The mood turned sensual, Yoongi leaning down to press his lips to hers, and even if Y/N wasn’t a hybrid, she could sense his love for her by the way he held the side of her face tenderly. Tucking hair behind his ear, Y/N crossed her ankles behind his back, feeling the way his cock throbbed inside of her– he must have been getting close.

“Come, Yoongi,” Y/N pressed her forehead to her lover’s, raking her nails down his chest lightly. “Wanna feel you come for me.”

“Y/N,” Yoongi gasped, Y/N feeling her gut tighten once again when he hit a sweet spot inside of her, and after two more strokes, she was coming again, gasping and moaning into the leopard hybrid’s mouth. “I–”

Without warning, Yoongi stilled, his mouth on her collarbone, teeth sinking into the flesh, heightening the bliss of her orgasm. She felt him spilling inside of her, sweet, filthy nothings falling from his lips as he came, tongue swiping over the bite he had given her absently. Hazy from the scenting, she let Yoongi roll the two of them onto their sides, his cock still nestled between her walls, the leopard hybrid cleaning up the wound on her neck in a way that was more primal, feline, than ever, his chest rumbling with loud purrs.

Limbs like jelly, Y/N closed her eyes, melting into Yoongi’s sheets as his tongue dragged over her neck lazily, the post-fuck and post-scenting haze having her so lax, she hardly noticed the mixture of their releases rolling down her thighs. She didn’t have enough energy to say anything, simply clinging to him like a baby kangaroo, fingers gliding along his sweat-dampened back.

“Still jealous?” Yoongi broke the content silence, tracing shapes along her ribcage lovingly, his purrs unbroken and strong.

“No,” Y/N replied meekly, hiding her face in his collarbones, suddenly embarrassed she entertained any feelings of envy at all.

“I know, can’t smell it anymore,” Yoongi snickered, Y/N rolling her eyes at the fact that he was back to his sarcastic, deadpan self. “Guess I just had to fuck it out of you.”

“You’re so vulgar,” Y/N lightly shoved his chest away, wincing when she felt him pull out of her, and the sensation of his cum dribbling out of her. “I never would have thought.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Yoongi retorted, kissing her forehead gently, his lips bent upwards in a tiny smile. “Wanna get cleaned up?”

“Mmm,” Y/N groaned noncommittally, knowing that walking would probably be an issue. “Not really.”

“I can carry you,” Yoongi’s laughter grew in volume, clearly enjoying that he had completely ruined her, squeezing the meat of her ass in one hand playfully.

“Fine,” Y/N pouted, not ready to break free from their post-coital bliss, but knowing that it would probably be wise to bathe and attempt to look normal before the other hybrids came home.

Yoongi carried her bridal-style into his bathroom, and Y/N leaned on his shoulder while the water heated up, enjoying his warmth and presence. Once in the shower, the leopard hybrid supported her, her back to his chest as the hot water beat down on their skin. Hooking his chin over her shoulder, his wet hair tickling her cheek, Y/N gripped the forearms he had wrapped around her middle, sighing.

“I love you,” Yoongi said quietly, planting a kiss on the bite he had given her.

Turning in his arms, Y/N chose to respond by leaning up, brushing her lips against his softly, hands winding around his neck as steam filled the shower.

“Hope you didn’t fill up too much on the toffee,” Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt, making sure the parking ticket for the garage she parked in was stuffed in her wallet.

“I didn’t! I skipped lunch, too,” Seokjin was hurrying out of the car, glancing around the parking garage curiously, correcting his stride to match Y/N’s, pulling his wool coat tightly around his body.

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that. You must be starving,” Y/N pouted, her fingertips twitching to hold his hand. It was Valentine’s Day, and most of the day had passed by uneventfully, but that evening, she and Seokjin traveled into the city for the cooking lesson.

“I just didn’t know how much we’d end up cooking, wanted to be prepared to stuff my face!” Seokjin joked, a merry smile on his face. After she had given him his Valentine that morning, it seemed that goofy, fond Seokjin was back, and he could finally smile at her with it actually reaching his eyes. Progress was progress, she supposed.

“I think we’re making three courses,” Y/N grinned as Seokjin pulled the door to the mall for her. He looked gorgeous, as always, in black slacks and a powder blue button down, his wavy hair swept off his forehead. “Three courses, three different wine tastings. I’m excited!”

Seokjin’s sleek black tail flicked behind him, sticking close to Y/N’s side as they navigated through Copley Place, and when she felt him growing nervous with the amount of people clogging up the narrow aisles of Eataly, she hooked her hand around his elbow, pulling him into her side for comfort.

Fortunately for Seokjin, the actual classroom where they were going to cook in was spacious, at the back of the market, and there were only a few other pairs of people taking the class with them. Seokjin appeared to be the only hybrid, however, and naturally every pair of eyes in the room was on him as he draped his coat on the rack by the door, his ears fluttering excitedly as he noticed the station that had a card with Y/N’s last name printed on it.

The instructor appeared to be an older Italian man, one with a thick accent and golden skin, greeting everybody happily. To Y/N’s relief, the instructor didn’t greet Seokjin any differently than anyone else, simply handing the jaguar hybrid two red-and-white striped aprons for them to wear.

“Today, we’ll be learning about the cuisine of Rome, and cooking some of my favorite dishes from all over Italy,” the man began once all of the students were in their aprons and standing eagerly behind their stations. Y/N noticed that most of the people in the class were older, perhaps married, couples, with one pair of college students in the back of the room. “We’ll be making a bruschetta, linguine alle vongole, and saltimbocca for our three courses, all paired with a lovely wine.”

Seokjin was nearly shaking with excitement beside her, checking out all of the dials on the stovetop, the raw ingredients in front of them, and the array of kitchen tools available for their use. He paid rapt attention to the man explaining the origins of the dishes they were going to prepare, his ears perked up. Once the little history lesson was over, the instructor walked them through the steps to make fresh pasta for the vongole, and she and Seokjin exchanged smug smirks– they both already knew how to make fresh pasta, and while some of the other couples were struggling to assemble the dough, her’s and Seokjin’s was plastic wrapped and chilling in the mini fridge already. Seokjin positively preened under the praise of the instructor, his neck turning red, and Y/N snorted and shook her head as she sliced through some tomatoes for the bruschetta topping.

Meanwhile, Seokjin handled the veal steaks for the saltimbocca, using a mallet to pound the meat to a certain thinness, and the first round of wine came around, the glass they were to nurse while they cooked. Here and there, Seokjin would crack a joke or two, corny as ever, but they made her choke on her wine and laughter.

“When asked about his cooking skills, the sage replied, ‘I’m herbally gifted’,” Seokjin held up a sage leaf he was using toothpicks to attaching to the veal steaks, waving it in front of Y/N’s face with a goofy grin.

“Jin, stop, I’m gonna pee my pants,” Y/N whispered, cheeks sore from smiling so much. It had been a while since she spent such quality time with Seokjin, and she realized how much she missed him, with a painful twang of her heart.

Seokjin’s grin only grew wider, hand reaching up to ruffle Y/N’s hair affectionately, one of the first times he actually touched her since finding out about her and Yoongi. Delighted, Y/N took a happy sip of wine, getting back to work on the sauce for the vongole.

Once everything was cooked, chairs were brought out, along with the fruity pinot grigio to be paired with the bruschetta, all while the instructor answered questions about Italian cuisine, and told stories about his childhood in Rome.

“This is so good,” Seokjin sighed, munching on a piece of bruschetta, his orange eyes wide as he tasted all of the flavors. “We get the recipes after, right?”

“Yep! We can make this whole meal again for the others. I think Hoseok would really enjoy this, too,” Y/N clinked glasses with the older woman from the station behind her, Seokjin’s cheeks beginning to color with the alcohol, already.

“This is so much fun, Y/N. We should do this again,” Seokjin suddenly became serious, glancing around the room, before his eyes softened and he made eye contact with her again.

“Absolutely. I’ve missed spending time with you,” Y/N replied without hesitancy, Seokjin’s neck turning red again when she admitted that.

Looking away, their interaction was interrupted by the instructor telling them to finish off the sauce for the vongole, and Seokjin drained his wine glass urgently before hopping to his feet to turn on the burner.

After two more glasses of wine and two delicious entrees the two of them cooked, her and her jaguar hybrid were loopily weaving their way through the market with a packet of recipes, a bottle of wine Seokjin liked the most, and free Italian cookies in their arms. Seokjin, bolder now that he was tipsy, insisted on holding the bag with all of the items, and finally, he offered her a hand as they walked through the mall.

“Want to go for a little walk before we head back to the car?” Y/N asked, threading her fingers through his, Seokjin staring down at her through his eyelashes with that thoughtful expression she had seen on his face only once or twice before. Truthfully, she both wanted to spend a bit more alone time with Seokjin, and she felt like some cool nighttime air would sober her up enough to drive home confidently.

“Okay,” Seokjin squeezed her hand, following her down the escalator to the street outside of the mall, the sky already dark and the city lights keeping the streets illuminated.

Not too many people were out, everyone seemed to be having their romantic Valentine’s Day dinners in the multiple restaurants studding the sidewalks, and it was much too cold for a leisurely stroll for most people. Tummy full, she stuck close to Seokjin, who radiated heat like a furnace, and Y/N was grateful for the slight buzz from the wine that was keeping her warm as well. The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence, only broken once or twice when Seokjin would ask her about a restaurant they would stroll by.

“Thank you for tonight,” Seokjin spoke out of the blue, letting Y/N hook her arm around his in an attempt to steal some of his body heat.

“You don’t have to thank me, honey, it was for your birthday!” Y/N insisted, reaching up to flick the dangling earrings that were threaded through his left earlobe– another birthday present from her. “I should thank you for letting me use the other ticket. I learned so much, got to hang out with you for a while, ate yummy food…”

Y/N paused, feeling cold and wet hit her forehead, stopping in front of an old church, the lights from inside making the colored stained glass glow and cast pretty hues over the sidewalk. Looking up, she made a soft noise of exclamation, clumps of snow falling from the sky. Letting go of Seokjin temporarily, she did a twirl, head craned skyways, admiring the way the snowflakes floated gently through the air. She didn’t realize Seokjin was repeating her name until his hand was on her shoulder, his lip tucked between his teeth.

“Ah, we can head back now. You’re probably freezing, huh?” Y/N held her hand out for him again, but this time, he didn’t take it.

“Y/N, I have something I want to tell you, but I’m not sure how you’ll take it,” Seokjin looked from her flushed face to the windows of the church, shades of blue, green, and red highlighting his features. A ball forming in the pit of her stomach, she dropped her outstretched hand, nervous about the seriousness of his tone, his whole voice going down a pitch.

“It’s okay, tell me,” Y/N, while nervous, was curious as well, freezing when Seokjin released a breathy exhale, gathering up her hands in one of his, the contact appearing to ease his nerves.

“I– I know you, um. You’re with Yoongi, you love him,” Seokjin swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. Wine churning in her gut, she nodded, taken aback that that was the night he chose to first address the relationship. “And I’m happy for you, I am, Yoongi too. But…”

“It makes you uncomfortable?” Y/N murmured, heart beating painfully in her chest. Seokjin bit his lip again, shaking his head, but conflict flashed in his eyes.

“No. I mean, somewhat, yes,” Seokjin sucked his teeth, tugging her closer into his proximity.

“Is there a specific reason why, Seokjinnie?” Y/N would be heartbroken if Seokjin would push her away after such a wonderful night spent together, but she would deal with it if it came to that.

“I’m,” Seokjin swallowed thickly again, before squaring his shoulders with his ears flat to his head, lowering his face closer to Y/N’s like he was about to tell her a secret. “Because I’m in love with you, too.”

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ja3yun · 1 month

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.6

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (m. rec), fingering, dirty talk, switch!ynhoon leaning on dom!hoon, mentions of panic attacks and anxiety, unloving mother, confrontation, anything else lmk! ch. 6 synopsis: after sunghoon's injury, you're making it your mission to care for him, but a surprise visits from his mum and shocking revelations lead you to question everything you have ever felt. wc: 16.6k previous | masterlist | next a/n: surprise! i am gifting you this all a day early <3 i have so much to do over the weekend so you can thank my work for scheduling me crazy hours for this early update. ynhoon stans...i'm sorry. this chapter is a rollercoaster so buckle yourselves in. thank you so much for the love on the last chapter, seeing all your reactions to minhee was...yeah. again, likes, reblogs, feedback is always appreciated!

The day after the incident, you finally summon the courage to visit Sunghoon.

You’ve been in an emotional battle with your head and your heart, wrestling with the decision of whether to give him space or to be there for him during this setback in his career. As his girlfriend, you know you should show support when he needs it most, so you listen to your heart.

However, you’re still conflicted about one thing: whether to reveal Minhee's involvement in the reason for his injury. The whole ordeal yesterday has left a bad taste in your mouth. Minhee and your mum had planned this sabotage but you have no clue why.

You sense there's more to this than meets the eye, something you don't comprehend, so you’re choosing to keep it hidden for the time being. It's not an easy decision because you've never lied to Sunghoon before but your mind rationalises it as a temporary withholding of information rather than a flat-out lie.

On your way out, you double-check you have everything, but while you’re preoccupied with checking your trusted lip gloss is in your bag, you bump into Minhee.

The atmosphere around you is thick with tension as your eyes meet. You’ve spent the entire night going back and forth in your mind as to why Minhee would do this, mostly because you want to believe he’s a decent human being who wouldn’t sabotage someone else for his own success.

That’s the part you can’t wrap your head around, the idea that this is for his benefit because there is nothing to gain except getting Sunghoon benched for Nationals.

Would he stoop so low just to get a better chance at winning first place? It’s so out of character for him. Minhee has always worked exceptionally hard to get the things he deserves, which was evidenced only in the last month with the extra hours practising and perfecting his routine. No logical person would put in hours and hours of grafting just to take the easy way out and eliminate their biggest competition. Even when you both watched the documentary about Tonya Harding, he was the first to say how stupid it would be for anyone to sabotage another skater because the ban would never be worth it if you really loved the sport.

Maybe you just don’t know your brother as well as you think you do, maybe this is his true side coming out. After all, he didn’t know about making it on the Olympic team if he skated well yesterday, and since Minhee’s dream is to be placed on the South Korean skating team, getting Sunghoon out of the way is a sure way to guarantee a spot - he could have conjured up this scheme with your mum.

It’s these conflicting thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind as you look him up and down. Regardless of any reason, he still did what he did, so you snub him, walking past in haste.

“Y/N, where are you going? Why do you have a bag?” he questions your pink overnight bag that you use for long weekends away at Rina’s. You ignore him and boost down the flight of stairs to get your shoes on, “Are you going to his?”

The tinge of sadness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed, it’s similar to yesterday although anger has seemingly flushed from him, replaced with a guilty conscience.

“You know I am so why are you asking?” you spit back.

“Are you going to tell him?” he queries quietly.

You can practically feel his heart gaining speed as he asks the question. He knows if you tell Sunghoon, his career is effectively over. It’s why you have such conflicting thoughts about telling your boyfriend because until you know the whole story, is it really worth ending Minhee’s future like that so easily?

Standing up, you grab your coat, “Why shouldn’t I?” The question is posed to let Minhee tell you exactly what is going on, it’s up to him to let you in on the reason for his actions.

He rubs his face in his hands and shuts his eyes, you can see he’s fighting himself, “I…I don’t know.”

“Really?” you scoff, “You aren’t even going to give me a reason not to say anything? Then what was this all for, Minhee?”

He doesn’t answer, hanging his head down in shame. It’s the glimpses of him like this that are what are going to stop you from telling Sunghoon. The look on his face wasn’t just guilt he got caught but for his actions.

“Tell Mum I’ll be home in a few days,” With that, you walk out and slam the door behind you.

You take two buses to get to Sunghoon’s side of town which takes about an hour if there’s traffic but luckily for you, there wasn’t. As you stand outside Sunghoon's flat, your heart leaps with excitement and concern. The rhythmic beat of rock music in your headphones works as a distraction. Sunghoon taught you this trick when you first started to hang out, the loudness of the base helps ease your mind, especially if it was flooded with any nagging thoughts about Minhee.

You've come all this way to be by Sunghoon's side, realising that your attention should be on him rather than getting caught up in the complexity of Minhee's situation. You slightly curse yourself for not just being with him earlier, you should have been here as soon as he got home yesterday.

Chapping the door, you wait for someone to answer; It’ll either be Jay or Jake because you know Sunghoon will be resting, or at least you hope he will be, your boyfriend always had a habit of defying instructions. The loophole he found to start this whole relationship was a huge giveaway.

The door opens, revealing Jake on the other side. His eyes are filled with relief as he recognises your face, "Hey," he says with a small smile, "Sunghoon's resting, but he'll be glad to see you."

You nod in understanding, a part of you thought maybe the almost 16-hour silence would have put him in a sour mood with you. As you enter the quaint flat, you remove your earbuds and catch sight of Jay in the living room, absorbed in his reading. The subdued atmosphere tells you that everyone is attempting to retain a sense of normalcy in the aftermath of recent events.

It’s funny, you didn’t consider how his closest friends would have reacted, this must be hard for them too considering the three of them are inseparable, each in their own field of sports; Jake in football and Jay in rugby, all of them meeting in the same major at University. You’re appreciative of them, they could empathise with him in ways you couldn’t.

The short walk to Sunghoon's room feels like an eternity as your mind races with thoughts about how to comfort him. How do you approach this? Especially knowing what Minhee did.

Why are you always harbouring a secret from someone you love?

You gently push the door ajar, revealing Sunghoon lying on his bed, his leg bandaged and propped up on a pillow. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, meet yours, and a small smile plays on his lips as he registers your presence, “Baby,” he exhales softly and outstretched his arms.

Closing the door, you walk over to him and envelop him in a tight squeeze. You let the gravity of the situation sink in as he nuzzles his nose into your neck, it wasn’t just his ankle that was hurting but his heart.

“I should have come earlier, I’m sorry,” You confess, drawing back to sit on the edge of the bed, “I didn’t know if you needed space or not.”

Sunghoon shuffles to sit up straighter, wincing as his ankle subsequently moves with him, “I get it, Sweets, really. You don’t have to apologise…it’s a weird situation, y’know?” He widens his eyes for a moment, inviting understanding without verbalising the implications. It was a fucked up scenario, Sunghoon hasn’t once had an injury in his whole career.

Interlocking your fingers with his, you ask the dreaded question, “What did the doctor say?”

“I have 4 days to live,” he jokes in an attempt to make the air lighter between you both but you don’t find it very amusing. You know he’s hurting inside and you can’t stand when he hides it. Sunghoon is strong and dependable but he rarely admits any vulnerability unless it’s got anything to do with you.

Slapping his chest, you narrow your eyes, “Shut up, I’m serious, Hoonie.”

Sunghoon sighed and looked down at the damaged ankle, “It was just a twist, I should be okay in 1 to 2 weeks but that can take me right up to Nationals. I can’t be on my ass for that long, Y/N.” Anger seeps into him, almost as if he’s realising the severity of what lack of training will do to his chances at Nationals.

Can he even go to Nationals now? Did Minhee and your mum get what they wanted? Maybe you should just tell him about Minhee, an eye for an eye and all that other stuff.

But you need to investigate first and figure it all out before you jump the gun on this. It’s difficult considering Sunghoon is in front of you, cursing at himself for not stopping the practice, this wasn’t his fault.

As his mouth keeps moving, you slowly start to tune back into what he’s saying once his skate is mentioned, “You saw my skates the night before, they were perfectly fine!” he exasperates, pointing to them at the bottom of the bed. Somehow, being confronted with the evidence of your brother’s crime brings a moistness to your mouth as if you could vomit right there.

The way your face goes a little paler causes Sunghoon to stop his rant, his hand bringing your face to meet his, “Sweets? What’s wrong?” You’ve spent so much time with him that you’re starting to curse how he can read you easily. If he catches a flash of guilt or withholding in your eyes, he’s never going to drop it.

Standing up with purpose, you advance over to where the skates are, curling your fingers around them. "I think having these in your line of sight isn't healthy for you mentally. I'm going to put them away," you say, opening his cupboard and tucking them in. In actuality, you feel compelled to throw them away, realising that their main purpose now is to serve as a horrible memory. With your back to him, you muster the bravery to bring up the topic of Nationals.

“Coach Lee said if I rest it and can get back on the ice just before the competition, hammer in a few practice sessions and see how it goes since I’ve already officially qualified anyway,” The perks of being the best skater in the city, you suppose, “But Coach Kim says it’s too risky and that I could break my ankle if I go back too fast.”

"Did the coaches say anything about Nationals? Can you compete?" The avoidance of eye contact becomes a shield, a method to ease the weight of the question from your chest. The guilt you harbour is overwhelming as if you were the one responsible for shattering his skate.

It seems you’ve not been the only one fighting with conflict.

"What are you going to do?" you inquire, returning to his side, your hand soothingly rubbing his thigh, a silent promise of support regardless of his decision.

He bites his lip, determination sparking in his eyes. "I'm going to Nationals, I don't care," he declares with unwavering resolve. "I need to do this. I've finally rediscovered my passion, and I can't bear to watch it disappear again, Y/N. I know that if I miss Nationals and the Olympics, I’ll lose the love I have for it, I feel it."

Nodding in understanding, you convey your unwavering belief in him, your smile a testament to your faith. Taking his hand, you bring it to your lips, planting a soft kiss on his knuckles, the action makes his heart skip.

For Sunghoon, the past few hours have been consumed by self-loathing, but your presence breathes new life into him. He hadn’t decided to try to get fit for Nationals right after the doctor gave him the news, it was only after he saw you walk through that door. You were the reason he wanted to prove he could do it because you always brought him back to life.

"Can I help with anything?" you offer, breaking the tender moment.

"You can give me a kiss," he cheekily responds, a playful smirk gracing his face.

Rolling your eyes in mock exasperation, you shuffle closer to his side and lean in, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. The synchronicity of your hearts creates a natural rhythm as they engage in their own intimate conversation.

Grabbing your sides, he guides you to sit over his lap, the new angle giving you more leeway to fully capture his lips, melting them with yours. His hands snake under your top, rubbing the skin of your back, grabbing lightly at your sides.

“I love you, Hoonie,” you murmur into his mouth and you feel him smile happily.

“I love you so much more, you’ve got no clue,” he presses your chest flush to his creating little distance between you. As he goes to buck his hips up, the pressure on his ankle makes him cuss and yelp out in pain.

Drawing back, you look behind you, “Sunghoon! Can you watch your ankle please?” You argue with him, trying to climb off but he holds you there in his lap.

"No, don't," he whispers, stealing another kiss, "I need this ankle to heal up quickly." Groaning, he shifts it into a more comfortable position.

"You'll be back on the ice in no time, baby," you offer a reassuring smile, but he looks at you with confusion.

“I wasn’t talking about that. I mean so I can fuck you,” The tender moment takes an unexpected turn as he expresses a different desire. The tone of his voice was offended, Sunghoon didn’t understand why that also wasn’t your first thought. Sometimes, he really is just a man.

His admission catches you off guard, and you playfully chide him, "You can wait, Hoonie." Cradling his face in your arms, you rub his nose with yours.

He doesn’t seem to like that idea.

______

"Hoonie, baby, do you want a cup of tea?" you call out from the kitchen.

You've been taking care of Sunghoon for the past five days, tending to every one of his needs. Part of this is due to your position as his girlfriend, but there is a deeper purpose lurking beneath the surface. You are well aware that your attentiveness is tinged by a desire to make up for your brother's mistake. You don't know why you're carrying the burden for your brother but you're living with it.

As you hear Sunghoon's ‘yes please’ response, you set about preparing the warm brew. The rhythmic clinking of the spoon against his mug becomes a backdrop to the quiet surrounding the flat.

“Y/N, can you make me one too?” Jay asks while shoving his gym bag on the counter beside you, a flask in his hand.

Accepting the flask you fill it up with some tea from the pot and add a dash of vanilla milk, just how he likes it.

Living with the three boys for nearly a week hasn’t been as challenging as you once thought. They’re respectable, clean enough, and have created unspoken boundaries to make sure you are as comfortable as possible. Obviously, you knew Jay and Jake before you moved in temporarily to look after your boyfriend but this continuous time with them has made you realise that Sunghoon surrounds himself with only good people, a reflection of his character.

Handing Jay back the flask, he raised it in a silent expression of thanks before walking away, “See you both later. I made extra lunch so eat it before it goes off,” he points to the pot of curry on the stove before he twirls out the door.

Entering the room with the steaming cup in hand, you find Sunghoon gazing out the window, lost in thought. He has been getting better at a rapid pace, now able to stand confidently on his ankle, albeit not for a long period of time, particularly when he’s standing still, however, the progress he’s making for his recovery is astounding.

He had a home visit from the doctor at Belmore to check his ankle and he said he might as well be a superhero with how well he is doing. He also said Sunghoon had a high likelihood of getting back in the rink for Nationals, as long as he kept doing what he was doing.

His attention turns from the outside world to you as he graciously accepts the tea from your hands, "Thanks, Sweets," he murmurs, planting a tender peck on your lips before making his way back to the bed. Seating himself at the edge, he glances over at you, curiosity in his eyes as you plonk down on his desk chair.

"Are you going to class today? Jay could have given you a lift," he inquires, taking a sip of his tea, his gaze lingering over the rim as he watches you.

You've willingly abandoned everything - school, work, even Rina and Allen. The neglect of your actual life becomes a mere consequence of your guilt-ridden state; until Sunghoon is better, focusing on anything else seems impossible. You've informed your professors that you're completing all assignments from home, citing an illness that keeps you from attending classes. Another lie to add to your bank.

Shaking your head, “No, not today. I’m all caught up anyway.”

With a sceptical look, he puts the mug down and walks over to you, each of his arms on the rests of the chair, effectively trapping you in, “Sweets, I love you and I love that you’ve taken care of me this week, but you’ve done enough. You can go to University and I promise I won’t break.”

Deep down, you know he’s right but your guilty conscience aside, this was also a lot more fun. The ability to spend everyday with Sunghoon, waking up to him and making him breakfast in exchange for him making dinner, the random shows you’ve both binged and laughed at, learning every intricate detail of him - it’s been the best time you’ve had in years. It gave you a glimpse into the future of what it would be like to live together.

You meet Sunghoon's gaze, your eyes reflecting a mixture of reluctance, "I know," you concede, "but it's been...nice. Taking care of you, being here with you.”

“Trust me, I appreciate it more than anything, but I’m fine I promise,” Sunghoon tries to give you some comfort by looking into your eyes and assuring you. You can feel his genuine care for you and your own life. He watches your eyes shift as you look away from him, “It’s not just me, is it? There’s something else going on?”

People on Twitter cry out for a man as attentive as him, they crave it because men these days don’t notice anything. Taylor Swift and Adele aren’t top artists on people’s Spotify because men are great at listening.

But right now you wish he wasn’t so attuned to you, that he didn’t know you so well because you don’t have the energy, nor the words, to explain to him that you know he’ll be fine, you just can’t face going home.

Because that was the real issue here, wasn’t it?

You can lie to yourself all you want but that house is the last place you want to be. That house is a labyrinth of unresolved issues. Minhee's actions have put you in a difficult position with your boyfriend, secrets linger in the cracks of the house that only he and your mother are privy to, and you feel like a stranger in your own home. Here, in Sunghoon's space, you can simply pretend that the world consists solely of you and him. It's a comforting illusion, shielding you from complicated family drama.

Sunghoon bends down, despite the strain on his ankle, trying to get eye level with you,

“Baby, you can talk to me.”

"You need your eyebrows fixed," you say quickly, seeking to change the subject. His astonished reaction causes you to quickly break into laughter, "They're getting a little wild, Hoonie."

He tilts his head and furrows his brows. "You want me to believe that my eyebrows are what's bothering you, not something a little more serious?"

You eventually stare into his eyes, mentally pleading with him to drop it and accept that your concern is indeed about his brows. The last thing any of you need is for you to reveal the information you're keeping hidden; it might jeopardise the calmness of this week and, potentially, your entire relationship.

His eyes soften and a small but understanding smile tugs at his lips. He relents, knowing you’ll speak to him sooner or later about your worries, “Alright, come on then,” he slaps his palms against his knees and slowly rises, ignoring the shooting pain that courses from his ankle to his knee. It might only have been a twist but fuck did it hurt.

With sparkling eyes and relief, you follow him into the bathroom, excited to get to work on his brows. It might have been a quick scapegoat to change the course of conversation but his brows did actually need to be tidied up. In only a week they’ve become unruly, the true curse of bushy, perfect, luscious eyebrows.

Opening the cabinet door, he reaches for a new hair shaper; you had bought the pack for yourself just in case that one chin hair made an appearance while you stayed here. He goes to hand it to you but yanks it away before you can grab it, “If you even think of shaving them thin I will 100% break up with you,” his tone tells you he’s joking but his eyes are deadly serious.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you say with a lighthearted giggle and stand in front of him, putting a few dollops of his moisturiser on your fingertip before rubbing it on the area you plan on attacking. There aren’t many straggling hairs but his eyebrows are a trademark, you can’t let them sit even the slightest bit unruly.

Taking the razor you pop the cap off and reach up to sculpt his brows. Sunghoon is tall but it’s never really been an issue until now as your line of sight is constantly covered by your hand, no matter how you angle yourself. With a little pout, you assess your options.

Sensing the struggle, he chuckles and decides to take matters into his own hands, literally. He sweeps you off your feet, lifting you effortlessly and placing you on the bathroom sink, “Is that better, Sweets?” From this elevated position, you now have a perfect vantage point to tackle his eyebrows.

Nodding, you place one kiss on his nose before beginning your venture into his bushy brows, cautious not to shave too far in or knick him. With each swipe, you concentrate more and more, pleased with your work. A sudden surge of adoration pings in your heart as you see the way he’s looking at you, accompanied by his thumbs tracing over your hips. In times like this, you wonder how you could ever be so lucky to have someone like him love you.

While you continue working, Sunghoon is thinking the exact same thing. It’s so strange how as soon as he started to spend time with you all those months back, a valve opened up in his heart to pour love out, and as he’s observing you now, he realises that he’s now just flooded with emotions all over his body. He’s happier, more patient, less angry, and just filled to the brim with adoration for not just you, but his life.

You wouldn’t know it because he hid it well but he was losing himself before he met you. The pressures of skating and university, the coldness from his mother, and the constant image of being arrogant and obnoxious that was posted about him in the media, it all got to him more than he let on. Now, none of that matters; he loves skating again, you actually make him study with you so he’s on top of all his assignments, and the opinions of his mother and journalists are no longer an issue for him - he doesn’t care anymore.

“I really do love you, y’know,” he says out of the blue, just as you begin on his left brow.

A chuckle escapes your lips because it was so painfully obvious he did, you’ve never felt more seen or cherished in your entire life. Fair enough, the bar was way down to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, but still, he made you feel on cloud 9 all the time. Even if you argue over different opinions, you never belittle one another or get mad, you talk it out rather than fight. It’s a dynamic you’ve not seen in your personal life before - when your dad was around, he and your mum would scream at one another or just never speak, the complete opposite of you and Sunghoon.

“I love you, too, Sunghoon,” you beam at him so widely you’re showing your gums. If anyone saw the way both of you were in the bathroom, giggling messes and smiling at each other like this, they would slag you off easily. But no one else is here, just you and him. If only it could always be like this.

Getting back to the task at hand, you finish up shaving off the last few bits and tidying the brows up, sculpting them like you’re Michelangelo and he’s David. They look good in your unprofessional opinion but it wasn’t yours that mattered, “I’m all done, take a look.”

As you go to jump off of the sink, he holds you still and shakes his head. Instead, he snakes his arms around your figure and pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looks in the mirror behind you. The intimate action has you instinctively wrapping your arms and legs around his body, clinging to him.

You feel him move his head side to side to inspect, “They’re perfect, Sweets. How much do I owe you?” he jokes, squeezing you before pulling back.

“I charge one kiss per brow,” you tilt your head and bite your lip.

“As long as I’m your only client,” he looks at you with that same playful serious stare, “I’ll even tip you,” he smirks, pushing your core against him.

Since the injury, you and Sunghoon haven’t had sex and it’s not through a lack of trying. Every time you both get into the swing of things, he either puts unnecessary pressure on his ankle or hits it off something. It’s stupid because at the end of the day, it’s his ankle and not his hip but you hadn’t realised how important a working ankle is during the deed. Even when you attempted to give him a blowjob, the tension in his leg went straight down into it.

He feels confident in his ankle today, there’s no way it can cockblock him for the 5th day in a row. He wouldn’t let it happen.

His plump lips cloak yours as his hands grip your ass and manually grind you onto him, eliciting a moan from you. Between your pyjama shorts and his gym shorts, there isn’t much material between you, so you feel each other’s need for one another easily.

Dancing your fingertips along the nape of his neck, he shivers, a grunt coming from his mouth when you grip the bottom of his hair.

Your attempt at intimacy is short-lived however when you hear keys rattling in the door but Sunghoon won’t let his roommate stop him, “It’s Jake, ignore him,” he continues to kiss you eagerly, the grip on your ass is so tight you’re bound to have marks.

However, when an unexpected voice echoes in the apartment, you both freeze, hearts in your throats.

“Sunghoon? Where are you?” His mother bellows, locking the door behind her.

She hasn’t bothered to come see her son since the accident, once she knew he would be fine, she left him to his own devices. So why is she here now?

Panicked, you push him off, the sudden movement makes him stumble over his ankle, “Shit, baby, sorry,” you whisper, quickly jumping down from the unit. You can hear her footsteps exploring the living room and kitchen.

She still didn’t know about you both, and as terrified as you were of Minhee finding out, Sunghoon was of equal measure about his mother, claiming she was psychotic enough to hire a hitman on you for ‘distracting’ him. Your boyfriend said it as a joke but he was genuinely scared of her reaction to the news.

Cupping your cheeks, Sunghoon gives you another kiss, and then another, and then another, “Baby, stay here and keep quiet. I’ll get rid of her,” he keeps dragging you to the door, placing urgent kisses all over your face as he backs up. You should tell him to stop considering he’s risking it but his lips are so addictive, “Fuck, what if I pretend I’m not here?”

“Go, Hoonie,” you’re acutely tuned into her footsteps coming up the hall.

Opening the door, he gives you three more short kisses before turning around, bumping straight into his mum. She startles, taking a step back, clearly caught off guard by his sudden presence, "Sunghoon, why didn't you answer when I called?" she queries.

“Sorry mum, I was having a piss”

You roll your eyes as you hear him from outside. There had to have been a better way to say that. Their voices get distant as they walk into his room across the hall but you can still hear them enough with your ear pressed against the door. Is it morally wrong to eavesdrop on the conversation between mother and son? Yes, but you’re nosey and none of the three boys keep magazines in the bathroom for light reading.

As Mrs. Park surveys the room, a disapproving huff escapes her lips, exhibiting her dissatisfaction with its current state, "How are you?" she asks in a monotone voice.

Sunghoon shrugs, “Fine, I guess. What are you doing here?” His arms are crossed defensively and his eyebrow quirked, “And where did you get a key?”

Of all the years he’s lived with Jay and Jake, his mum hasn’t so much as stepped foot into the flat so this was a weird situation he’s found himself in.

She turns to inspect the shelves of his room, running a finger to collect dust, crumbling it away in disgust, “I made a copy one of the days you were training,” Twisting back to face him she continues, “And can’t a mother drop by to see her son when he’s injured?”

Sunghoon, clearly sceptical, could almost burst into laughter, "I got injured almost a week ago, and I could have easily texted you about my condition," he retorts, his narrowed eyes reflecting suspicion.

“I might have been busy rescheduling your appointments but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Sunghoon,” she doesn’t flinch and neither does he.

The relationship between them is spread thin at this point, merely a transaction of small talk and managerial duties, he acknowledges this and so does she, so the act she’s putting on right now isn’t fooling anyone, “Mum, we’re not exactly known for heart-to-heart chats. What’s the real reason you’re here?”

Scoffing, she matches his stance, crossing her arms, subsequently closing herself off, “I think it was sabotage.”

You wish you weren’t listening now. Does she know it was Minhee? There’s no way she could, maybe she’s just a sceptical person…or perceptive.

The tension in the room rises as Sunghoon tries to process her words, “Mum, this isn’t one of those bad dramas you watch during the week, my skate snapped, that’s all it was. Plus, no one hates me enough to do that,” he barters with her, the idea that this was anything more than a freak accident made him laugh.

In the bathroom, you’re freaking out and regretting all your decisions to keep it a secret. If you had just told him, he would have had some respect for you but you know for certain if she does know that it was Minhee and tells all to her son, he’ll lose every ounce of regard for you.

This is bad.

His mum shakes her head, dropping her arms and going back to snooping around his room, “I think it was Minhee…or Y/N. She is always around that rink when she can’t even skate, that’s a bit suspicious, no?”

The accusation makes Sunghoon’s blood boil. You have been the one to look after him throughout all of this and his mother dares to think for a second it was your doing he’s in this position. All the care and love you’ve shown him this week alone is enough for the insinuation to filter in one of Sunghoon’s ears and out the other.

Paying him no mind, his mother continues to the other side of his room, “The whole family is bad news but her? She’s up to something, far too quiet that one,” look on her face only grows with more disgust as she spouts her words.

“You’re ridiculous! Y/N wouldn’t do that. You don’t know shit about her,” he protests angrily, his fists balling by his sides as he tries to remain some sort of composure. Sunghoon would be dead before he let anyone speak badly about you.

“Fucking stop it. What is your obsession with the Kangs?” He knows he shouldn’t have asked considering you’re in the bathroom and could probably hear every word of this conversation but it was more rhetorical than genuine curiosity.

However, his mum will take any opportunity to slander your family, “Her mother sleeping with the judge to get that scoundrel of a boy a higher ranking at Junior Regionals is enough of a reason. Her whoring around nearly cost you the final.”

Junior Regionals, 2018, the year your dad left because of a rumour your mum had slept with one, possibly two of the judges. Of course, it wasn’t true, Minhee worked incredibly hard to get high scores that year but Mrs. Park couldn’t accept that your brother almost knocked Sunghoon off the top spot. The rumour spread so fast that it almost tarnished everything that Minhee had worked for, there were investigations and everything - judges got fired, your dad divorced your mum, and it was a rough time for everyone in your family.

Sunghoon swallows down what he actually wants to say, “Is it really that serious? It was like what? 5 years ago and so what if I did come second to him? Would it be the end of the world?”

“If her little plan had worked the way she wanted it to, you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to work with Mr. Son and get the sponsorship that propelled you to fame, you’d be a nobody like Minhee.”

Rage, unfiltered, pure toxic rage overcomes you. She can say anything she wants about you, even your mum but never Minhee. He has done nothing but grind on that ice for years to prove himself as a main competitor since the accusations. Minhee is top of his league for a reason, he is just as good as Sunghoon is. Did he work on his humble and modest persona to make brownie points in the press? Sure, but his talent can never be questioned.

Reaching for the knob of the door, you’re about to barge in and tell her where to stick her opinion when you hear Sunghoon, “Are my talents not good enough? Did you ever think that Mr. Son wanted to work with me because he saw my skating and thought I’d make a good ambassador?” His voice is pained.

"Be real, Sunghoon," his mother says dismissively, and a heavy silence falls over the room. Your heart hurts for him, and your hand falls to your side, the weight of their conversation temporarily overriding your desire to intervene.

The admiration you’ve held for Sunghoon’s skating since you were little was a testament to his skills. His fluidity and grace were unrivalled, and he was seen as an embodiment of potential by everyone. It's frustrating to witness his mother's lack of faith in his talents. It feels completely unjust that the one who should champion him the most fails to recognise the kind of athlete Sunghoon is.

Sunghoon's shoulders drop, the weight of his mother's doubts and lack of belief in his talents crashing down on him. He lets out a deep sigh as he struggles to find the words to express his disappointment and dissatisfaction. "Don't you get it, mum? All of my years of training, sacrifices, and everything, were all done to prove something. To prove that I can be more than what you expected,” he lets out a bitter laugh, looking up to the ceiling as if to hold in tears, “But I’ll never be good enough for you, will I?”

The room echoes with the heaviness of Sunghoon's emotions, the unspoken tension hanging in the air like a dense fog. As you listen, a profound empathy washes over you, recognising the pain of a son seeking validation from a parent who seems drastically out of reach. He was always so good at comforting you with your lack of self-esteem instilled by your mum because he knew. He knew how it felt to be seen as less than from your flesh and blood.

His mother remains motionless, her stare unwavering and detached. "Sunghoon, the world is cruel. How can you expect to survive if you can't handle critisism? You are skating on thin ice, both literally and figuratively. Your National top spot is up for grabs, this is serious, I don’t have time for your pity party.”

Sunghoon's jaw clenches, a mixture of frustration and resignation etched on his face. He had hoped for understanding but what did he expect from a mother like his? He gathers himself, not letting her words hinder him anymore today, “I’m fine, just go. You’ve checked in and laid your conspiracies on the table, you can go now.”

Her gaze remains icy. "Fine? Is this what you call 'fine'? Being 20 years old, living with two delinquents, and a twisted ankle to boot? I came here to tell you about the sabotage to spur you on and give you a reason to get better for Nationals. Don’t you want to show up the person who tried to end your career?”

“No one tried to end my career, you’re fucking delusional!” He raises his voice and it makes you jump, the anger portraying in his voice is similar to when he beat up that guy at the party for touching you. Sunghoon never gets angry, not seriously, so you know he’s had enough, “You seem to have a lot of opinions about people I care about, just so you can justify your weird allegations.”

She raises a brow, “You ‘care’ for the Kangs? Is that what I’m hearing?”

To be fair, it does sound strange if you don’t know the whole context, Minhee and Sunghoon don’t strike anyone as buddies and you and Sunghoon apparently haven’t spoken two words to one another.

Sunghoon is so overcome with emotions he doesn’t stop himself, “Yeah, I care about them, Minhee is actually a decent guy who I just don’t see eye to eye with. And Y/N, she…she isn’t even any part of this, so keep her name out of your mouth, okay?”

Mrs. Park looks at him with scepticism, “I’m curious, Sunghoon, how you’ve suddenly become so protective over Y/N. What is she to you?”

You can feel your heart ripping through your chest as your name bounces between their lips, you never wanted to change your name so much in your life. As your palms get sweaty, you hear nothing but silence.

The question hangs in the air, challenging Sunghoon to define the nature of his connection with you. For a moment, he seems caught between the impulse to reveal his true feelings and the desire to shield you from his mother's wicked ways.

“She’s someone who you don’t know and are making wild accusations about, sorry if i have some morals,” he states firmly, eyes unwavering as he stands his ground. He doesn’t want to add you further into this family drama, you’ve been dragged through it enough at no fault of your own.

Despite his best efforts to swerve you out, his mother drags you back in, “You like her, don’t you?” When Sunghoon doesn’t say anything, his mum cackles, “I should have known, all those nights at the rink were to see her, weren’t they?”

If she wasn’t basically figuring out your secret relationship with her son, you would have given her some props - the woman is smart.

Sucking his teeth, Sunghoon nods, “Yeah, so what? I’ve been seeing her and we’re happy, doesn’t that just prove your mad theory about her sabotaging my skate null and void?”

Her eyes flash in disbelief for a moment before she finds her resolve, “You don’t know her, she could have done it. She would do anything for Minhee.”

You want to argue but she’s right, you would do anything. You’re literally hiding in a bathroom as they argue about someone deliberately breaking his skate knowing fine well it was your brother.

“I know her, mum.”

"What could you possibly know about her?" she responds sharply, the scepticism written across her features

"I know she loves me, and I love her. She wouldn't do that," Sunghoon says firmly, his voice carrying a confidence that fills the room. In the long silence that follows, you can almost imagine his mother's jaw dropping, either that or she’s fainted.

Staring sternly at Sunghoon, she tightens her jaw, a silent attempt to regain control of the narrative slipping through her fingers, “You’re an immature child, Sunghoon, you don’t know what love is.”

“And you do?” he spits back.

For a while, you don’t hear anything except your heartbeat and the air coming through the toilet vent. It's as if the world around you has vanished, and stepping out of this bathroom will transport you to a reality similar to a dystopian movie where there are no survivors left.

This was not an argument meant for your ears, which weighs hard on your conscience. Guilt flows through you like an electric current, yet ironically, it's a conversation that is entirely about you and your family.

Frustration etches deeper lines onto Mrs. Park's face as Sunghoon doesn’t budge. She clicks her tongue and strides towards him, “Fine. But just know your father would be highly disappointed in you right now,” she pushes past him and storms out of the flat, leaving a heavy atmosphere in her wake.

Sunghoon’s heart wrenches at the thought, he feels sick. He’s only ever wanted to make his father proud and now his mum said that. He stands frozen, his gaze fixed on the ground. The weight of his mother's words hangs in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the room and Sunghoon's heart.

Shock doesn’t even begin to describe your state right now. There is no way she said his dad would be disappointed in him, she said that to spite him because he won the argument, it’s pitiful. Mrs. Park is supposed to be the adult in the situation, yet she handled it like a child. You hate her.

Turning the door handle, you ease your way out of the bathroom, careful not to startle your boyfriend. There’s not a lot you can do for him, her words are a wound that can’t be healed by hugs and kisses. But you have to try.

Tip-toeing into the room, you gingerly place a hand on his arm, “Hoonie?” He jumps slightly but doesn’t lift his eyes to look at you. As you circle to the front of him, you see the water in his eyes and his jaw clenched, holding in anger and hurt.

You reach up to touch his face, stroking his cheek in an attempt to loosen it up but you fail. He is trying to be so strong and not let his emotions overwhelm him but even if he’s fighting them on the outside, inside he is breaking.

“Baby, please don’t listen to her. She is so incredibly wrong,” you speak softly.

His eyes flicker to yours for a split second but it was a mistake, he can see the sympathy in your eyes and it makes him feel weak. He shouldn’t be affected by his mothers words so much, not after he vowed to stop caring about her opinions but the way she spoke so easily about his dad’s disappointment boiled him over the edge, not to mention how she dragged you through the dirt. He felt ashamed for some reason, “Look at me, Sunghoon.”

Pleading with him falls on deaf ears however because he doesn’t dare, knowing he’ll breakdown. Sunghoon has always held it together, even that day he sat rubbing your back on the bleachers, when you hit a nerve he switched from sad to joy in the space of a second, something he’s been so good at his whole life, so why is this influx of sadness any different.

Because she mentioned the two most important people in his life and how the relationships were stained with something negative. Sunghoon obviously knows you wouldn’t corrupt his career like that and he knows his dad won’t be disappointed in him but he can’t help his mothers words poisoning his brain.

Exhaling slowly, you withdraw your hand from his face and trail it over his heart. It’s beats are irregular, swapping between a regular pace and missing a few pulses completely, his lungs are moving at a faster rate yet his nose and mouth are still.

“Sunghoon, hey, listen to me, okay?” You try to guide him to the chair behind him so he can sit but his feet remain sturdy, “Please, Hoonie, I think you’re going to have a panic attack or something so can you sit down for me?”

All the signs are there. Panic attacks are different for everyone and he might just be going through the motions, but you’re better safe than sorry.

His entire attention is distant, absorbed in the chaos of his own mind. You can practically see the internal fight in his eyes, the conflict between the emotions and listening to his body. It’s scary because you’ve never seen him like this before.

Sunghoon finally relents, allowing you to guide him to the chair. You crouch down in front of him, placing your hands on his knees, trying to establish a connection. "There we go,” You learned about bringing people down from panic attacks in a mental health first aid course you took years ago. Granted you’ve never used any of the steps on anyone other than yourself, so now would be the perfect time to use it.

Knowing your boyfriend well, he loved it when you lay on top of him, the weight of you calmed him down if he was nervous about something, so, you figured he could benefit from deep pressure touch and if not, you’d try something else. Anything to stop him from hurting like this.

Straddling his lap on the chair, you bring him into a hug, tightening your arms so it is snug and not uncomfortable and hold him, soothing his back and whispering positive affirmations beside him.

You sit with him like that for about 15 minutes before he finally moves, his arms circling your waist and his face buries into your neck. He doesn’t sob or break down, he just holds you with the same force you are giving him. He finds some serenity in your touch and he can’t thank you enough.

You wish he would just let it all out, to cry because he needs it, but you can’t push him - he copes in his own ways.

“I’m sorry you had to hear all that earlier,” Your heart tears as he mutters the words into the nape of your neck. He is the one in pain right now yet he’s apologising for your feelings that got hurt. Pulling back you see his sullen face as he finally looks at you, “She had no right to accuse you or Minhee like that, she was out of line.”

A lump forms in your throat but you force it back down. You can’t tell him now, not while he’s like this but fuck do you feel like a piece of shit right now. Every fibre of your body wants to tell him and relieve yourself of the burden on your shoulders, but now is not the time for that.

You plaster on a gentle smile and place your hands on his cheeks, “And she had no right to tell you your dad would be disappointed in you because I know for a fact that he isn’t. That man worshipped the ground you walkrd on, he still does. You’re everything he would want you to be.”

The words hit Sunghoon a little too hard, the ducts of his eyes filling again but he quickly blinks them away and clears his throat, shaking his head as if to rid him of any thoughts in his brain.

“Thank you, Y/N. For everything and I don’t just mean right now,” he pauses, collecting the correct words, “I mean for the past few months. I feel so…I don’t know, I can’t even describe it. I just know I’m lucky to have you.”

You jutt your bottom lip out and nod. Of course, you understood what he meant because you felt it too. His mum was certainly wrong about Sunghoon not knowing what love is, he’s experiencing it in ways people can only read about in books. You cherish each other as best friends, as lovers, as soulmates.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, he smiles genuinely, “Never leave me, yeah? You’re all I’ve got.”

You look at him, your eyes silently convey the depth of your care and commitment to him, “Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me for a long, long time, all my snoring included,” both of you laugh, the tension and animosity that still lingered from the confrontation with his mother slowly but surely dissipating, “I am going to tell Jay and Jake about how you said that though. They’ll be highly offended.”

The joke settles in Sunghoon’s smile, “What can I do to keep you quiet?”

You pretend to think, mockingly looking up at the ceiling as if to contemplate, “I think I’ll take the same toll as my eyebrow-shaping services. Two kisses and your secret is safe with me.”

If Sunghoon could imprint a single vision to his brain, it would be you right now with the loving smile you have adorning your face, “You drive a hard bargain, Sweets but I’ll pay up,” Leaning forward, he kisses you tenderly, holding your back for support. Your bodies melt together, any tension in your persons now evaporating as you lose yourselves in one another.

His tongue makes its way into your mouth, licking you softly and with so much affection. You loved this side of Sunghoon, it proved to you that men could actually be soulful. He’s a ruby in a diamond world, you’re certain.

“You know, I never did give you my tip for your services earlier?” He wiggles the freshly shaped eyebrows.

“Seriously? After all that went down, you’re still horny?” You ask confused.

Nodding he dips his hands down to your ass, “I have been cockblocked for a month-”

“5 days,” you interrupt.

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter how long, I just know I need to feel you,” There’s a playful glint in his eyes but underneath lies a strange vulnerability as if he just needs to be loved, to be wanted. You can understand that; you felt the same way when you were upset after the party, desperate for a genuine connection.

Lifting you, he carries you to the bed and lays you down gently, yet, with enough urgency to relay his needs to you. He is so desperate for your touch and your love that he’s already kissing down your neck and hands roaming under the borrowed shirt that you’re wearing.

But you stop him suddenly, using all your strength to push him away and push him to sit up against the headboard.

He had to feel the pleasure this time and as much as he would tell you that getting you off was enough for him, you wanted to return the favour.

Sunghoon has a terrible habit of just diving into making you feel good that often your night antics are one-sided with him doing most of the work and you get all of the reward. Tonight, you can’t let it follow the same routine, no matter his protests.

You start rubbing over his cock that is concealed by his sweatpants and boxers. The imprint of his size is already making your pants stick to your pussy.

You sit on Sunghoon’s legs, anchoring him to his bed as you play with the toggles of his sweatpants.

Licking his lips in anticipation, he watches you pull back the strings and let them go, allowing them to snap and send a shock to his already desperate cock. The way you’re just as eager as him makes his blood pump straight down, helping his member to stand to attention.

There is still an apprehension in you to continue; the last time you attempted to suck him off, it ended in his feet digging into the bed and his ankle swelling back up. This time, however, he was in tip-top shape, or at least he would rather be in pain than not have those beautiful lips of yours wrapped around him

Pulling the bands of his bottoms down slightly, you expose his semi-hard dick, drooling at the sight. It looks as pretty as ever, the tip blushed with a hint of pink already from arousal.

Sunghoon rubs your thighs, the pads of his fingers trickling along your skin, setting your body alight. Even the simplest of touches from him is enough to get the blood in your veins to stir. He sees the effect he has on you and smugly licks his bottom lip, “Are you sure you don’t want me to…” he trails off, his right fingers ghosting your heat, giving you just enough to tease but not to please.

“No,” you shake your head with conviction, determined not to fall into his trap, “I want to do this.”

You honestly do feel bad for the lack of give compared to take, but Sunghoon has an addiction to taste you, to feeling your essence on his lips and tongue. He gets lost down there so long you, making you cum however many times he pleases that sometimes you’re too fucked out to even think, never mind give him anything in return.

Your hand is cold compared to his warm shaft, so when you grasp it softly, it jumps in your hand as Sunghoon gasps, “Jesus fuck,” he whispers as he shuts his eyes, his hand gripping your inner thigh.

You slowly drip your spit onto his cock, gathering enough to coat it. You begin to move your hand up and down slowly, spreading your saliva over him, squeezing periodically where you knew he was most sensitive.

Rubbing your thumb over his head, you apply special pressure to his slit with each passing which Sunghoon obviously loves, his face being the number one indicator; his jaw is tense, eyebrows scrunched together, and his nose is breathing out harshly. You're driving him crazy with lust.

“Baby, please don’t tell me you aren’t going to use that pretty mouth of yours,” he pleads to you while his hips thrust up further, trying to get as close to your mouth as physically possible from the position he’s in, “I want your mouth so much.”

“You want what?” you tease, bringing your lips down to the tip only to spit on it once more, denying him what he craves.

Sunghoon doesn’t take the teasing well, gritting his teeth from aggravation and pleasure. Although he’s desperately seeking the warmth of your tongue sliding up and down his cock, he can’t deny how good your palm feels stroking him like this.

Both of you are as bad as one another, teasing while still giving something. Usually, it’s Sunghoon and his soft kitten licks to your folds when all you want is his fingers inside you.

It was nice to be in control like this.

Pumping him faster, you watch as he struggles to speak, chest rising and falling with your hand, “Just…fuck…don’t make me ask again,” he pushes out, tone laced in flames. It’s almost cute how he thinks you’ll give up so easily, this is your time to get him back for every time he tortured you.

Bringing your face back down to his head, you lick into his slit and circle his head slowly. As soon as he thinks he’s won, you sit back up straight, smirking as he grinds his jaw in frustration, “Like that?” you ask innocently, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Y/N, c’mon, this is supposed to make me feel better,” he pouts, trying to hide a smile. You falter for a moment, thinking about his words carefully.

You suppose that this was to make him feel better after what just happened with his mum, he needs to feel loved and appreciated, to feel that someone actually cares about him and backs him through everything.

But you know him, and that glint of playfulness in his eyes tells you everything you need to know, “You can’t use the pity card to get what you want, Hoon,” you laugh and continue to work his cock.

Losing his despaired expression, he clicks back into his cheeky self, huffing while he rolls his eyes, “It was worth a shot.” he mutters disappointedly. He really thought that would work.

“I can’t believe you’re trying to guilt trip me into giving you what you want,” you sigh, feigning annoyance. Your hand starts to slow down, “Should I even give you this much?” The confidence in your voice wavers once you look into his eyes.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Sweets,” he challenges you, those menacing fingers from before now pressed exactly where your clit is. You jerk at the sudden touch, loosening your grip on him just slightly. His expression is smug, a wide grin plastered all over his face.

He rubs on your bud causing a chain reaction of events; you fall forward a little, mouth slack open, and with one swift push of your head, he’s gotten exactly what he wants.

Gripping your hair tight with his free hand, he forces you to take him deep into your throat, holding you there as you gag on him, the vibration sending a shiver through his entire body.

Despite his force, he’s left you enough leeway to come off if you want to, but now that you’re down here, mouth stuffed with him, you don’t really feel the need to. Instead, you hollow your cheeks and give in.

His fingers finally slip into you, not even bothering to wait for you to discard your underwear. Curling his two fingers inside you provokes a high-pitched moan to rise from your chest and onto his entire length.

You clasp your hand around his wrist, holding his hand still, grinding on his hand of your own accord. It feels so good you pop off his cock, leaning your head on his shoulder as you get swept away in the goodness.

Your boyfriend tuts mockingly before whispering in your ear, “Baby, I’m starting to think you only want to make yourself feel good,” his voice is embedded with amusement, not a trace of annoyance to be heard.

Sunghoon’s greatest pride is making you feel good, and as much as your mouth feels fucking unreal, he’ll take hearing your cute noises of need over getting sucked off any day.

You know he doesn’t mind but you want to give him more, something just for him. Regaining your thoughts, you quickly push him to lay flat on the bed, withdrawing his hand from your pussy.

Confused, he raises his eyebrows, “Baby, what are you-holy fuck!”

He stops his question mid-sentence as you take him back in your mouth, this time focusing on sucking his red tip, alternating between licking and slurping.

Grasping at the sheets below him, Sunghoon’s knuckles turn white and his legs tense under you while you give him head, probably with the most vigour you’ve ever shown. He doesn’t know how long he will last with each passing of your tongue over his slit, the accidental dips of the tip of your muscle making him jerk forward.

“Fuck, baby, do that again,” he asks pleadingly, desperate to feel that good again. And you oblige, flicking your tongue into his hole once again, and again, and then once more before you start to taste his precum on your tastebuds.

As much as he is enjoying this, the idea of splattering his love over your face and tongue, he could think of somewhere else he’d rather have it. Ever since that first time without the condom, you quickly hopped on the pill and never looked back, both of you obsessed with how it felt to fall apart raw like that.

Yes, it was irresponsible, chances of still getting pregnant at a staggering rate but it felt too good and looked even better. Sunghoon still hasn’t got the image of the first time his cum leaked out of you, the sight is the closest thing to heaven as far as he is concerned.

You feel the pulse in his cock thump against your tongue, signalling that he’s close, ready to erupt; however, your hair is yanked to pull you off, the control from each strand to your brain acting as a puppet string as Sunghoon moves you to crawl forward and kiss him, his tongue dancing in your mouth.

It’s not like him to deny himself release so you know he wants you on him quickly. If his free hand shoving your underwear down wasn’t indicator enough, his little moans certainly were.

Freeing yourself of your bottoms and pulling his off at the same time, you hover over his angry cock, crying out for your cunt. But that doesn’t mean you can’t cause one more bit of torment.

Sliding his cock along your wetness, you pretend that you're just gathering enough of your natural lubricate to easily slip him in, but in reality, you keep going; every time his head touches your entrance, you slide it straight back out.

Clenching his jaw, he shakes his head once you’ve done it one too many times, “Fuck this,” he says lowly. Both of his hands grip your hips tight and once his dick is close enough, he forcefully pushes you onto him, engulfing his whole cock. The sudden action ruptures a loud, porn-like moan from you, the tip of him sitting right at your cervix.

“Isn’t that so much better than being difficult?” he asks cockily, kissing down your neck as you adjust to him, “Remember when you used to be so well-behaved with me?” His words flutter in your tummy, the raspyness of his voice spinning your head around. He must be reading those books you leave at his place, his sex talk is getting a little too good.

He rocks your hips to test the waters for any discomfort, and when he doesn’t see anything but pleasure on your face, he keeps going, “What happened to my good girl? Hmm?” he licks a long strip up your neck before nibbling your earlobe.

This damn praise kink will be the end of you because now all you can think about is him telling you how good you are for him, “I’m sorry, Hoonie. I just wanted to tease you,” you confess, face red from lust and embarrassment at how easy it is for him to get you surrendering.

It’s not a power play, he does it because he knows if you give in and just be your good little self, you enjoy yourself more. You physically shudder at every word of praise and touch of love, why wouldn’t he want you to just surrender to your desires? When you feel good, he feels good; it’s a win-win.

“My beautiful girl, teasing me after saying you wanted to look after me?” he tuts mockingly, smooching along your jawline, “You still want to make me feel good, don’t you?”

The question makes your pussy walls hug him tight, eyes shut as you quickly nod, “Yes, yes I want to look after you, for the rest of my life,” you utter the words so tenderly that it catches Sunghoon a little off guard.

When you’re both close like this, having sex, fucking, making love - whatever anyone wants to call it - you are always so vulnerable and honest with him. He wonders if you know you do it or if it subconsciously slips out.

Pickling your hips up, he guides you gently up and down him, the bell of his cock bumping each part of your canal perfectly, “Feel how my heart is beating? That’s because you always look after me, you don’t need to do anything other than be here with me, that’s enough,” he places your hand on his chest and you feel his heart accelerating.

Sunghoon speaks with genuine love, like he’s trying to tie both of you together for an eternity, and you have no reservations about that. You love him so much that even though you can’t see down the tunnel of your future with one another, you know you want to be with him until the end of the line.

Nodding, you smile brightly, “Still, I would like to actually finish giving you head at some point,” you joke, lightening the mood a little.

“I’ll think about it,” he mirrors your expression, nuzzling his nose with yours gently, “For now I think I’d really like to cum inside my girl.”

You’re convinced you’ve just cum already, the bluntness of his needs only fueling your own. There’s nothing you want more than his cock - which is currently fucking you gently - to fill you up.

It gives you the motivation to move your hips in rhythm with him, pressing your palms on his chest while you pick up speed. Your g-spot is being satisfied each time you fully sink onto him, bringing you close to the edge.

“Fuck, you’re so good, such a good girl,” he echoes loudly. He wants to buck up faster but his ankle has an annoying twinge in it, telling him not to push it too far, so he puts all his strength into his other foot, using that as his anchor to fuck into you deeper.

“Sunghoon…right there,” you whine, your mouth collecting drool as he fucks you dumb.

He heeds your words and keeps drilling into you, fighting through the discomfort so you can climax. Reaching his thumb up to your mouth, he wipes the saliva formulating at the side of your mouth but he quickly stops when you suck on it, eyes boring into his as you do.

Your plump lips look delicious while your tongue swirls around, giving him something to think about for the rest of his life. Grabbing your chin, he pulls your mouth open which you do obediently.

“You’re so close, Sweets, I can feel you,” he states, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip, smearing your spit all over your mouth and down your chin, he grips you a bit tighter to keep you staring at him, “You’re gonna cum, and you’re going to keep looking at me when you do, okay? Do you know why?”

Without hesitation, you agree, staring straight into him, “So I know who makes me cum so hard,” It’s a little embarrassing to admit it, but it turns you on so much. You wonder if you could convince him to go full dom on you at some point, you know he has it in him.

“Good girl, you can cum whenever you want,” the huskiness in his voice pulses into your heat, making you clench around him again. The motion only makes him smirk, “I need to feel that perfect pussy fall apart so bad.” The confidence in his voice wavers as his dick spurts a little. He’s trying to hold it in until you cum but it’s proving more difficult than he anticipated, your core just clamping down on him too deliciously.

“Cum with me,” you say, cradling his face, “I want to cum with you.”

The suggestion doesn’t come unfounded, you know he’s holding back until you climax, “Let me milk your cock.”

Okay, you might have to seriously cringe after this because who do you suddenly think you are? Dirty talk isn’t something that comes as naturally to you as Sunghoon so every time you initiate or say something like that, you have to stop yourself from shrivelling up.

What you fail to see is how Sunghoon’s whole body shuts down, the dirty words falling from those angelic lips put his head in a tizzy and cock on the very brink of shooting into you. The drive he has now is exhilarated, his hips snapping into you, weight on both his ankles but he couldn’t care less, he had to feel you coming undone.

You try to keep up with his pace but he’s going so fast you don’t even have time to comprehend how you could add to the situation. His length is pistoning into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, “Sunghoon! I’m cumming,”

“Cum for me. Milk my cock, Y/N,” he echoes your words but they don’t sound as good to him when it’s not your voice.

Snaking his hand down to your clit, he rubs it, just helping to push you that last bit over the finish line, and it works like a dream. Your walls contort around him, your body tensing as your orgasm flushes over you.

With your pussy tightening, Sunghoon spurts his seed into you, filling you up. The way your body is responding to your climax squeezes his cock clear of any cum, his balls deflating as he keeps shooting his sperm into you.

He doesn’t stop for what feels like minutes, his dick jumping inside of you with each rope, only adding to your pleasure. Sunghoon’s thumb slows down but doesn’t stop giving your clit attention, making sure you get to ride out every remnant of your orgasm.

Panting, you collapse on him, smooshing your face into his chest and kissing his heart softly, it’s your weak attempt to help him come down.

Sunghoon wraps his arms around you, the rest of his body going limp as he cherishes the time with you on top of him like this, his cock still buried deep inside you, “You accomplished your goal,” he says into your hair, laying a kiss on your roots, “I feel so much better.”

You look up at him, leaning up slightly, “I never want you to listen to your mum again. She’s wrong about everything, you’re so perfect in every way, shape, and form,” your voice whisps over his face as you try to instil some assurance into him.

There was the little issue of saying this knowing full well she was kind of right about the skate being sabotaged. It gnaws at you, wishing you could tell him what you know, but you don’t want to hurt him, or your brother.

“I promise, I mean it when I say you’re the only one I need,” his fingers trace hearts into your back as you both bathe in the love that fills the room.

The connection you have to Sunghoon feels surreal like it’s too good to be true.

______

After the few days you’ve spent nonstop with Sunghoon, you decide you need to go back to your normal life, you can’t stay in your comfort cocoon forever. You’ve been back at classes, hanging out with Rina, and returning to work. However, you still haven’t been home, opting to spend the nights with Sunghoon.

Minhee has texted and called you a few times, leaving messages asking if you can meet up but you ignore him. His messages punctuate your days like soft knocks on a door you are scared to unlock.

Each time he contacted you, there was a little angel on your shoulder telling you to hear him out and let him explain what’s been going on. You have been telling yourself that the whole reason you refuse to tell Sunghoon about his skate is because you want to find out the truth; so why aren’t you trying?

Instead, you listened to the devil perched on your other shoulder, telling you to ignore him because it was still wrong even if there was an excuse to be had regarding the sabotage.

Maybe it would have been easier to go back and forgive him if you hadn’t seen Sunghoon struggle to even stand in the shower.

Your boyfriend also got back to normality, he got his boots fixed in spite of you recommending new boots altogether, he’s determined to keep the old ones, claiming them lucky and ‘crucial to his National win’.

He’s healing well, you wouldn’t even know he had an injury 9 days ago if you hadn’t been by his side. You knew his recovery was going well when he walked to his uni campus and back with no complaints. Well that and how he made up for the lost time and starting fucking you anywhere and everywhere just like before.

As you make your way to the rink to study, you see Sunghoon’s car in the parking lot which is strange because he said he had classes this afternoon. You shrug it off however, it’s probably just a health checkup he forgot to mention.

Miss Barbara greets you, a beamer of a smile on her face but not like her usual happy to see you smile, more like an ‘I know something you don’t’ type of smile. You want to question her on it but you’re too curious as to what the rink has in store to wait around.

The sound of multiple skates resounds off the arena walls, it’s just gone 3:30pm so it’s not an unusual occurrence, the junior skaters usually have afterschool training on a Tuesday anyway. It’s the bellow of Coach Lee’s voice that causes you confusion.

“Take it easy okay, don’t walk before you can run,” Strange. He doesn’t take the Junior class anymore, not since most of the parents complained that he was ‘far too harsh’ on their children. Of course, that’s not how Coach Lee saw it.

As the rink comes into your sight you see the children standing to observe the skater on the ice as he lands a triple axel.

Sunghoon.

What on earth is he doing here, specifically, what is he doing skating like nothing happened?

You aren’t the only one who has a distaste in your mouth due to Sunghoon’s showing off. Coach is crossing his arms and tapping his foot in annoyance because his star skater has just defied his advice, “Sunghoon! Get off the ice. Now,” His tone indicates that he is in no mood for Sunghoon’s showboating.

Slowly, you make your way to the side while Sunghoon hops off the ice. Knowing your boyfriend, you can see his frustration with his coach, the slightly pouty lips and narrow eyes are a dead giveaway.

He hasn’t noticed you yet, too busy begrudgingly taking his skates off. To be honest, you’re a little surprised that he doesn’t have some form of PTSD or at least apprehension about getting on the ice again; it would scare the shit out of you never mind doing tricks as if you didn’t almost have a career-ending fall.

“Listen to me, if you want to make Nationals next week you need to calm down with the aerials, alright? We need to build up to it,” Coach reasons with him.

“You saw me, I was perfectly fine,” He mumbles, tying his trainers in a strop. Sometimes he acted just like a kid but you found it endearing, probably because you’re never on the other side of the tantrum.

You now stand next to Coach Lee with a dissatisfied look on your face, “Hoonie, if you don’t listen to Coach Lee, you’ll end up injured again and I am not looking after you again,” Your voice is playful but coach points to you and nods, his eyes still on Sunghoon.

Whipping his head up at your voice, the bratty attitude melts from his body and is replaced with pure happiness. He stands up and brings you in for the tightest hug, his hand placed behind your head as he scratches your hair.

Now that everyone in your immediate lives knew about you and Sunghoon, there wasn’t really any need to hide it. Both coaches were a little perplexed, wondering how your relationship started considering you both looked like you never spoke a word to one another. Little did they know you’ve spoken and fucked in every room of Belmore, including their office but you’ll omit that information if they ever ask.

You don’t actually know if your mum knows but rather just assumed she would, either the coaches or Minhee have told her. If she’s anything like Mrs. Park, she will not take it well.

As you’ve come to realise, your relationship with Sunghoon isn’t that controversial, it’s just two people falling in love while their families go at one another’s throats, like Romeo and Juliet but way, way less dramatic and hopefully no death. Although, if you had gotten a hold of Mrs. Park the day she came to visit Sunghoon, there might be one casualty in it all.

Coach Lee leaves you both, heading into his office.

“What are you doing?” You ask, still unaware as to why he’s skating.

Leaning back to look at you, he smiles, “I got the all-clear from the doctor. He said I must be some bionic mutation because it’s basically fixed itself,” You’re sceptical, knowing his doctor would usually be a little more cautious than just telling Sunghoon he’s good to go.

Unwrapping your arms from his waist, you raise an eyebrow, “He just…said you can go back to skating? Perform your intense routine at Nationals like it was nothing?” He senses your apprehension and dubiousness and looks away, whistling. He isn’t slick and he knows it, “I guess I’ll go ask him.”

“No! Wait!,” He pulls you back as you go to walk away, a guilty smile plastered on his face, “Okay, maybe he told me to take it easy, skip Nationals and rest up for a few months.”

The look on your face is incredulous, how can Sunghoon and his coach possibly justify letting him back on the ice?

Sunghoon fails to tell you that the doctor also said if he goes back too fast then he risks tearing a ligament and possibly putting him out of action for the foreseeable and with his age, he doesn’t have a lot of time left in competitive competitions.

That’s why he’s taking the risk. He’s 20 now, which is young in anyone else’s mind but for him, he’s too aware of the fact that in ten years maximum, he’ll either be doing exhibitions, coaching, or not skating at all. He had to take the chance, he had to make it to the Olympics and experience it.

“Sweets, I know what I’m doing, I know my body better than anyone,” He bargains with you, trying to help you see it from his point of view, “If I skate at Nationals, rest up for a bit before the winter Olympics, I’ll be all set. Trust me, baby.”

You do trust him, but you're also acutely aware of his stubborn nature. "Sunghoon, this plan might look good on paper, but it carries serious risks. You could really get hurt," you express, unintentionally letting a hint of begging slip into your voice. The mere thought of him sustaining another injury is unbearable.

Admittedly, there's a selfish reason you don’t want him to skate too soon. You don't want him to risk injury because, deep down, you fear that Minhee would have technically ended Sunghoon's career, invoking the butterfly effect.

“You also said that about us, that we’re good on paper but it couldn’t work. Look at us now,” Using your own words and relationship against you is a low blow, he knows that but it’s the only way you’ll understand.

With a slow nod, you reluctantly drop the argument. "Just please be careful. I don't want you to cause yourself more damage, okay? If you see my side, at least consider it."

Sunghoon intertwines his fingers with yours, leaning down to kiss you. Instead of responding with words, he lets the kiss convey his gratitude for your concern for him. He knows you’re only looking out for him at the end of the day, just like always.

For a moment, you both get lost in each other, almost forgetting your surroundings. The usual nagging in your brain about the need to be discreet fades away, allowing you to revel in the affection. It’s the joy of telling the world about your relationship.

However, before the moment can linger, your name is angrily shouted from the entrance door, shattering the intimacy. "Y/N, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Your mum storms over to you and Sunghoon, his protective grip on you tightening in response.

If she didn’t know about you and Sunghoon, she did now. Minhee tries to reach for your mum to calm her down but he isn’t quick enough.

“Mum, I-”

Before you can finish your sentence, she cuts you off, lifting her hand to silence you, “Don’t ‘mum’ me. I have been worried sick about you. You disappeared with…him for almost two weeks, not so much as a phone call to anyone.” She’s furious, if she was a cartoon you would see the steam coming from her scalp.

Sunghoon scoffs, bringing you to his side as a way to stand by you against her, “It’s a bit late to care about her now,” he mutters under his breath like he’s saying it to himself but it doesn’t go unnoticed from your mother.

“Excuse me?” She challenges Sunghoon, her posture hardening to match her stern gaze, “Do not involve yourself in our lives, I know what you’re up to,” her voice is accusatory.

Yanking you away from your boyfriend, she roughly shoves you to Minhee’s side who catches you. This is the first time you’ve seen him since the morning after the argument and he looks horrible, his entire expression is sullen and his dark undereyes showcase the lack of sleep he’s had. Your heart hurts, wishing you had picked up the phone at least once.

That’s the thing, everything is easier when you shut people out. You haven’t given much thought about how Minhee would be feeling since the incident because you didn’t have to face him.

He gives you a sympathetic look, genuine remorse in his eyes.

“Don’t speak and listen very carefully,” your mum looks at you, turning her back on Sunghoon to dismiss his presence entirely, “I didn’t want to believe the rumours about you two but it ends now. You will not see him again, that family is cruel and evil and I will not let you continue this relationship any further. Do I make myself clear?” You know she’s angry because she’s speaking clear and concise to get her point across.

“Not Sunghoon, mum, he’s not a bad person,”

Pleading with her falls short, her manner never wavering. You look to Sunghoon who shakes his head in disbelief at how brazen your mother was being by talking about him so poorly while he was right there.

She huffs, clearly irritated by your defiance. "Sunghoon is especially toxic."

"Mu-"

"He's using you to get to your brother."

The entire arena seems captivated by this unexpected drama, like it’s an episode of Maury and the DNA results are about to be revealed. Minhee and Sunghoon exchange perplexed glances, but all you can muster is laughter.

The idea that Sunghoon has ulterior motives for dating you seems utterly ludicrous, "Mum, Sunghoon and I are together, and we're happy. Why can't you just leave us be?"

Ignoring your plea, she digs into her handbag, determined to prove her point. As she scrolls through her phone, you seize the opportunity to exchange a glance with Minhee, who can only offer a shrug, equally taken aback by the unfolding spectacle.

Finally finding what she's looking for, she hands you the phone, revealing screenshots of text messages between two individuals. "I did some digging once I found out about your little relationship. He's been texting his friends and making a mockery of you."

As you peer at the phone, Sunghoon's name is at the top of the screen, and the messages depict Sunghoon boasting about sleeping with you and how easy you are to get into bed, all it took was playing on your ‘mommy issues’.

The stress in your body builds, lying heavily on your shoulders. Despite the initial shock, the rational part of your mind takes over. Nowadays, anyone can make a fake text. The absurdity of the situation dawns on you, and you suspect that your mother is creating drama for her own sick pleasure.

"Mum, anyone can fake text messages. This doesn't prove anything," you assert, hoping to inject some reason into the escalating confrontation.

Sunghoon still hasn’t seen the messages so he doesn’t know the severity of the allegations being made about him but he knows it can’t be good. Although you’re ninety percent convinced that it’s fabricated, he can see the ten percent of you arguing that they’re real.

With a dismissive wave, your mum takes back the mobile, “Thought you might say that. Texts can be faked, but voices? They don’t lie.”

You suddenly have a sick feeling that’s rising from your stomach to your throat. What else could she possibly have? It won’t be substantial, it can’t be.

Out of your eyeshot, Minhee and Sunghoon are exchanging a look of curiosity, both wondering what Sunghoon could possibly have said about you that would elude to your relationship being made from lies.

Opening a file on her phone, your mum plays an audio clip, the sound of Sunghoon’s voice fills the tense air.

"All I gotta do is keep her hooked until Nationals. Once Minhee catches wind of me messing around with his little sister, he'll be too wrapped up in that drama to think about anything else. Can't have him messing with the Olympic team, you know?...

…No, she doesn’t have a clue. I practically have her doing anything I say. Seriously, sex whenever I want! I missed my opportunity to be an actor because how i’ve been pretending to be in love with her makes me worthy of an Oscar….

I just used lines from those movies that girls watch, read a few Twitter threads, I did my research man c’mon.”

In the wake of the phone call clip, a heavy burdening silence hangs around the rink, suffocating you. Your mum adorns a victorious smile, proud of her revelation.

She’s the only one who was happy in this situation.

Minhee balls his fists, face going red and stature in fight mode, ready to knock everyone out of the way so he can lay his hands on Sunghoon. He isn’t even upset that he was planning all of this to sabotage him but rather that he hurt the one person most precious to him. You.

You find yourself at a crossroads, torn between the person you’ve come to love and the evidence presented to you. Sunghoon wouldn’t do this to you but the proof is right there, clear as day. The weight on your shoulders is unbearable as you contemplate the idea that maybe the Sunghoon you thought you knew, the one you love, actually isn’t who he says he is.

Sunghoon’s mouth hangs open and his eyebrows merge together as he processes what he just heard, “Y/N, I swear I didn’t say that, I have never…I wouldn’t…” He can’t even finish the words, still perplexed by the audio.

“Oh? But isn’t that your voice?” your mum says. It’s sick how much she seems to be enjoying this, almost like this will be the most gratifying ‘I told you so’ in history.

“Well…yeah but I did NOT say that,” he walks towards you, hands on his chest, “Baby, please believe me. I love you, I wouldn’t use you,” Sunghoon’s voice wavers with anger and sadness, conflicting feelings fighting one another as his mind bats them around.

The weight of humiliation and deceit bears down on you, threatening to shatter your composure. A storm of emotions swirls within, but you stubbornly refuse to let it consume you, denying anyone the satisfaction of witnessing your breakdown.

With determination, you storm out, deaf to the desperate pleas from Minhee and Sunghoon. Your singular focus is on escaping the prying eyes, sparing yourself from the judgment and pity.

How could Sunghoon betray you like this? You gave each part of yourself to him, only for him to throw it back in your face.

But it was so real, the connection you have with him, even from the start, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before so how could it all be a lie? The way he made you feel was otherworldly, it’s hard to believe for a second he would have manipulated you like that.

Was every whispered promise and affectionate moment just a ploy to damage your brother's chances?

As you push open the double doors, your mind is filled with conflicting thoughts that drown out the background noises of the outside world. The confusion envelopes you like a thick cloud and the cold air hits you like a slap in the face, a dramatic contrast to the hot chaos left behind in the rink.

Stumbling slightly, you make your way through the car park, the weight of betrayal and inner struggle increasing with each step.

Tears threaten to spill, but you clench your hands, determined to maintain composure. The weight of embarrassment, uncertainty, and sadness pushes over your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Y/N! Wait!” Sunghoon’s cry finally infiltrates its way through your ears, “Sweets, please talk to me,” his voice gets louder as he catches up, attempting to grab your wrist but you harshly pull it from his grasp.

You’ve had too many arguments in this car park for your liking, whoever runs the CCTV must sit with some popcorn every time you trudge out of Belmore.

“Was this your plan, huh? To use me like this?” This was your chance to find out why he did it, why he tricked you so easily, “Was all of it a lie? When you told me you loved me, was it all fake?” you batter question after question out to him, word vomiting your inner thoughts in hopes of some clarity to the situation.

Standing in front of you, Sunghoon’s expression reads more anger than hurt, “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. Don’t fucking diminish my feelings like that,” he argues back. It instilled a fury within him that you could even elude to his love being a lie.

“Oh? So what, getting under my brother’s skin was the plan but then you started to fall in love with me as time went on like one of those bullshit Rom Coms. Is that really the angle you’re pulling here?” You can hear your voice getting louder and you have no desire to lower it.

Sunghoon is a mirror of you, anger rising but it’s not aimed at you, it’s the situation he’s furious with, “Y/N I swear on my life I didn’t say any of those words back there. I…I don’t know what’s going on,” his shoulders raise as he fights internally with himself.

“That was your voice, Sunghoon. YOU. I hope you get your fucking Oscar, I’m sorry it was so hard to pretend to be in love with me, isn’t that what you said?” It’s not like you to scream at someone, however, the love you have for him is like a clutch in your heart, a burden you once thought was a privilege.

Tightening his jaw, he has a tough act on in front of you but his wavering voice gives him away, “I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much you can’t actually think for a second any of this was fake to me.” Sunghoon groans and slaps his cheeks lightly, a habit he has when he’s frustrated, “I don’t know how to prove to you I am not fucking lying. Y/N, you’re my whole world and you know it. Why are you believing your mum when she couldn’t give two shits about you,” he barely pushes out the last sentence from pure agitation.

Weeks and weeks have gone by and he has listened to you tell him stories about your mother and how she’s a horrible person. Now you’re standing in front of him suddenly believing her over the one person that has shown you all the love you’ve been missing. It’s enraging him to another level he didn’t even know he was capable of.

“Why shouldn’t I believe her? She literally has stone-cold proof of you admitting that you used me,” you argue.

He takes two long steps to stand in front of you, invading your bubble. His big hands hold your cheeks as he forces you to look into his eyes, “I didn’t say it. I didn’t send any texts. I haven’t got any friends except Jay and Jake and they would be on my ass if I pulled something like this. I love you so fucking much. Are you really going to believe a shitty audio clip instead of seeing what’s right in front of you?”

Either he’s telling the truth or he’s really committing to the role. The sincerity in his eyes clashes with the damning evidence, leaving you torn between love and reason.

Pushing him back, you shake your head. You can’t rationalise anything, the red you’re seeing clouding over your judgement. His love that poured through the words was evident but even on the call he said he faked being in love with you, maybe he was just a natural talent in the art of deception.

“You’re just like my brother, y’know, literal carbon copies of each other. You’ll do anything to win, to top one another in this stupid rivalry. First, it was him with your skate and now this, using me like I’m some pawn in your game.”

A weird silence fills the air as Sunghoon takes in your rambling, “What about my skate?”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

As if the icy air just took over your body, your blood runs cold at your accidental admission. This isn’t how you wanted to tell him, truthfully, you didn’t want to tell him at all but if you did, you wanted it to be a bit gentler than this and well after you figured out what Minhee was thinking.

“Did Minhee fuck up my skate that day?” Sunghoon can’t believe it, his face going a paler shade as he takes in the gravity of your words, “My mum was right? You both had something to do with it?”

He is seething, his body shaking as he comes to terms with your words. Sunghoon has never felt more fury coursing through his blood as he does right now, never in his life did he ever think you could make him this angry.

“Of course, I didn’t, Sunghoon. Believe it or not, I was actually in this relationship for real, not pretending,” you spit back at his accusation.

“You knew he did this to my ankle, you listened to me argue with my mum and defend both of you to the point she won’t speak to me anymore and it was true?” The hurt in his voice drains some of the anger from you, making room for guilt to sit shallowly at the surface.

There wasn’t anything you could say right now that would make you look better in this scenario. You fucked up, you knew when you found out about the skate, you knew it while you cradled Sunghoon in your arms as he broke down, and you know it now.

What you did was fucked up. Lying to him was bang out of order.

However, since the guilt is only taking about a 1/8th of your body, the anger suffocates it, choking it down, “You’re turning it on me but I can’t control Minhee’s actions.”

“You kept it a secret, that’s just as bad,” he shouts, veins popping from his neck.

It hurts, the way he says it. He sounds so betrayed.

But he betrayed you, he’s been lying this whole relationship and now he’s getting angry at you for keeping one fact to yourself. You know it’s wrong to try and compare the two, to find a way and dilute the severity of your lie but you’re livid at him right now. Once you’ve calmed down you might be able to see clearly, that won’t be today though.

“Okay, fine. I should have told you but you’ve also been lying to me, and for a lot longer,” you retort back, staring into his eyes.

Stunned by your confession, his mind temporarily short circuits. You lied to him, after everything you saw him go through with his ankle, you neglected to mention that it was Minhee. He practically disowned his mother in honour of not just you but your brother…for it all to be true. And to top it all off, you still don’t believe him as he tells you that he loves you, that somehow that audio is fake.

Before Sunghoon can gather any words to say back, Coach Lee has a firm grip on his arm, the man’s eyes flicking between you both. It’s clear that even without hearing the conversation, your relationship was essentially over and Coach Lee didn’t want to meddle.

“Y/N, go home. Sunghoon, come with me.” His parental voice is switched on as if he’s telling his kids to stop playing with their food or drawing on the walls.

You and Sunghoon stay stagnant as you watch each of your worlds crumble beneath you. All that you knew and loved got swept away on a random Tuesday afternoon.

And you just let it happen.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen angst #enha angst #melting point #aj writes #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader

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prythianpages · 4 months

Text

Dandelions | Azriel x Witch Reader

summary: Azriel accidentally welcomes your dysfunctional family into your home.

warning: I can't really think of any at the moment besides violence from a witch fight, basically you being protective over Az

a/n: There's not very much known about the witches in the ACOTAR universe so I'm just taking creative control here (: If you're interested in reading more of Az x witch reader, you can find the masterlist here.

As Azriel sits in your living room, the familiar weight of concern settles in his chest. The past few days have felt like a quiet storm and the bond between you, has fallen eerily silent far too many times to go unnoticed.

Of course, he’s already asked if you were alright but he sensed the lie as it brewed in your eyes before it slipped out of your lips. The shadows that remain at your side keep him updated on your whereabouts but besides a crow following you one day, there’s nothing else to report. He wonders if you’re upset with him.

Azriel tries to engross himself into the book–as it’s one you recommended to him– in his hand but his eyes keep drifting from the pages. He steals glances toward the closed door of your study. A vibrant green glow, your magic, spills from the edges of the door. He tries to pull on the bond but cannot find you on the other end. You shut him out. Again.

Three knocks pull him out of his thoughts. Ignoring the skittering dance of his shadows and the way Pearl–your pet spider–retreats back to her corner, he opens the door. There’s no one on the other side. A perplexed furrow forms on his brow as he peeks into the hallway, dispatching his shadows to investigate further. They return with no insights, leaving an unsettling silence in their wake.

“Hey Az?”

Azriel closes the door and locks it. He turns to see you stepping out from your study. You smile at him sheepishly, toying with your glowing hands. “Can I have some of your blood?” Your voice is surprisingly calm, despite the look in your eyes, and you must mistake his silence as apprehension because you’re adding: “Just a drop!”

He would’ve gladly granted your request but before he can even utter a word, a sudden shift in the air catches your attention. Your eyes widen, a touch of panic flickering within them. It’s a fleeting moment where control slips from your grasp, and in that heartbeat, your side of the bond bursts open.

His wings quiver as if struck by an invisible force. A torrent of emotions crashes over him like unrelenting waves on a storm sea, flooding and overwhelming his senses. Worry etches lines on his face at the raw intensity of your feelings.

“Toad’s blood!”

In the blink of an eye, he’s standing in front of you, his hands cradling your face. The hazel depths of his eyes burn with concern but you avoid his gaze, your frantic eyes darting around the room as if looking for something–someone.

“y/n, my love,” Azriel implores softly, his heart pounding in his chest as he desperately tries to navigate through the sea of your emotions. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes land on the door and a palpable tension fills the air. “You opened the door.”

Azriel’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Someone knocked.”

You swallow thickly. “How many?”

“What?”

Your voice is firmer this time. “How many knocks?”

“Three.”

You’re pulling out of his grasp abruptly. You run back to your study and a trail of perplexed worry etches further across Azriel’s face as he follows after you. With a furrowed brow, he observes your hurried actions. Windows are slammed and shut and locked in quick succession. He blinks and you’re running to your room next. “y/n, please talk to me! Tell me what’s wrong!”

You pause, if only for a brief moment, your eyes finally meeting his. “You just opened the door to a gateway of evil.”

“Evil??” Azriel’s wings flinch, the word carrying an unexpected weight. “What evil?”

“My mother.”

A sense of impending danger guides your every move and you’re sprinting past him. Over your shoulder, you urgently command, “Quick! Lock all the windows!”

Azriel responds without hesitation. He races back to your living room, determined to secure the window he opened earlier. As he does so, he sees a crow flying toward him. It’s familiar to both him and his shadows. The dark tendrils hasten to close the window beside him and the crow, unable to halt its trajectory, collides with the glass.

“I think that's all of it,” you say with a sigh of relief. However, it’s short lived as an overlooked detail dawns on you. The window in your kitchen.

Azriel, his shadows and you are already racing toward the kitchen but despite your efforts, you’re too slow to close it. Your sock clad feet glide across the floor and Azriel wraps an arm around your waist from behind, preventing you from falling. It tightens around you, drawing you snugly against him in a protective embrace, just as the crow flutters its wings menacingly and tauntingly above you. His eyes narrow at the bird and his shadows poise like a snake ready to strike.

Shrouded in a swirling cloud of purple smoke, the crow undergoes a mystical transformation. Its plumage shifts and twists, feathers unraveling and converging as if guided by an unseen hand. A silhouette begins to take form amid the enchanting mist and as the last tendrils of purple dissipate, a beautiful older female stands before you.

“That is not the way to welcome your mother, Dearest.”

The last time you saw your mother was when Hybern became allies with Spring. She had asked you to join her coven, out of worry for you if you stayed in the court that was crumbling apart, but Feyre had already secured plans to bring you to Velaris. The City of Starlight was a safe haven for you…until the Hybern attack unveiled its secret. She’s been reaching out ever since–sending countless letters and when those did not work, she started sending ravens.

Though she delves in dark magic, you know your mother means well. She loves you and has been protective of you. Overly protective. Perhaps, you were being dramatic about it all but you weren’t ready for her to meet Azriel yet. You didn’t even get to finish the protective spell you were planning on casting upon him. All you needed was a drop of his blood to complete it…

“Mother,” you reluctantly greet.

She smirks at you. Every muscle of your body tenses and you place your hand over Azriel’s to let him know it's okay. Ever the perceptive one, your mother catches the subtle gesture. Her gaze falls upon the protective presence behind you. She narrows her eyes and points a perfectly manicured finger at him as if to say “I’ll deal with you later.”

With a wave of her other hand, a cage materializes out of thin air. You can barely make out the tiny green creature in it before your mother is thrusting it into your hands.

“Hold your father, will you? I need to go fetch your sisters.”

She says it so casually, it’s comical almost. You grimace as your gaze flickers to the small lizard. It nervously scurries within the small cage it is confined in and you’re tempted to drop it.

Your father, a former high noble fae from Spring, had been cursed into a feeble gecko at the powerful hands of your mother. She did it shortly after she caught him trying to take your life at the mere age of two. He had plans to kill your mother next and take her heart for his own so now your mother loves to torment him by carrying him with her so that each remaining day of his life is as miserable as can be.

Verena, your mother, walks over to your door as if she owns the place. With an air of confident authority, she swings it open, revealing two females on the other side—your sisters, each birthed from a different father. One, with dark, flowing hair and sinister eyes, wears a smirk that mirrors Verena’s. Maeve. The other, with lighter hair, possesses kinder eyes, and delicate white feathery wings. Thea. She looks at you apologetically.

You’re slipping out of Azriel’s grasps and joining your family in your living room. The cage falls from your grasp, rolling onto the ground. Binx dives out from the shadows, eyes alight as the cat spots the green creature within. A curious paw swats at it, its claws peeking through the thin gaps at the top of the cage but no one bats an eyelash at the terrified squeak.

A scowl settles onto your face. “Mother, Maeve, Thea. As quickly as you arrived, I want you all to leave,” you say, clapping your hands at them for emphasis. “I did not invite you here.”

“No,” your mother agrees with a nod but her eyes are fixed on something–rather someone behind you. “He did.”

Four pairs of eyes are on him and Azriel only cares about one. Yours. His knowledge over your family is limited. He knew your father was a piece of scum but he did not know he still lived. There’s a tightening in his chest and he knows it's coming from your side of the bond. He sends a wave of reassurance through it because if you’re okay, he’s okay. Even if your family is a little overwhelming.

Verena circles around him, her gaze sharp as the crow she morphs into. Azriel stands still, his shadows swirling defensively. When Verena extends toward the talon of his wings, the shadows snap at her, causing her to withdraw. A wicked grin appears on her face. “A Shadowsinger,” she observes. “What is your name?”

“Azriel.”

Verena hums, stepping back, her eyes scanning every inch of him. There’s a devilish gleam in them when they settle upon his large, membranous wings. He instinctively tucks them back.

“By The Mother, you look absolutely ravishing,” purrs your dark-haired sister.

The lighter haired sister beside her smiles. “He is quite beautiful.”

“Maeve,” the darker haired sister introduces herself. Her dark brown eyes sparkle in amusement. She holds her hand out to him. “We haven’t yet had the pleasure. y/n has been hiding you for far too long.”

Azriel does not take her hand. Instead, he watches her with wary eyes and she laughs. As her eyes deepen in hue, mirroring the unsettling darkness akin to yours, an ominous glow envelops her hands. It resembles a delicate yet foreboding cloud of gray smoke that dances around her fingers.

“Don’t touch him,” you growl, raising your own hand. A raging green fire roars from your fingertips as the darkness takes your eyes.

Maeve turns to hiss at you. Her cloud of smoke is steadfast as it continues its path to Azriel. Your mate. You hiss back but your mother rests a hand on your shoulders and out of the corner of your eye, you swear Thea sends a reassuring gesture your way.

“Oh, come on.” Maeve persists, her voice, both enchanting and seductive, beckons like a magnetic force. She steps closer to him, ignoring the heated glare you send her way. She places a hand on his arm and you're shaking with rage as you recognize the haze that clouds Azriel's eyes.

“You look hungry. Would you like a taste? What do you think, Shadowsinger?”

Smoke wraps around him, infiltrating his senses and charging the air around him with an alluring energy. It smells like chamomile and lavender–a scent intricately tied to you, the enchanting witch he calls his own. You’re shoving away from your mother and prancing on your sister, the two of you tumbling to the ground. “Let him go!”

The room becomes a radiant spectacle, bathed in the ethereal clash of gray and green magic. The air is charged with the tension of their coexistence and you’re pinning your sister to the floor beneath you. “Why do you always have the thirst to take everything I have?”

“Because it’s fun,” Maeve hisses at you, her dark eyes a reflection of yours. “Besides, our family is in need of a new pet, don’t you think?”

“Girls, stop it this instant!”

“Can it be something cute this time? Like a puppy!”

“Thea, shut up!” You say brusquely as you look up.

Thea winces at your tone. Maeve takes the sliver of your distraction to push you off of her. The two of you hastily get to your feet and you hold your hands out ready to unleash the vibrant, verdant rage coursing through your veins at her.

“I think y/n is ravishing this evening. Don’t you?”

Azriel’s voice is light, dreamy almost as he’s in a trance. He blinks and the tendrils of magic briefly cloud his vision before it clears. He steps away from Maeve’s cloud of smoke, repulsed by her magic and his eyes are searching for you.

His gaze, steady and filled with a profound warmth, captures yours and it feels like a gentle cascade of water extinguishing a flame. The vibrant green fire in your hands gracefully fades away, mirroring the softening of your eyes in the tender exchange.

“And he’s not even lying,” Maeve frowns with a huff, her voice and eyes returning to normal. Disappointment is written all over her face. No one has been able to escape from her power of seduction before. “How dull.”

Your hand finds solace in Azriel’s and he locks his fingers with yours. You smile at him and he smiles back. You are the only enchantment he desires and your heart swells. You're so happy you could kiss him--

Thea, always one step ahead of everyone, gasps. “He’s your mate.”

Your mother’s eyes undergo a shadowed transformation of her own, reminiscent of a crow’s ominous gaze. Azriel feels a subtle unease but you remain composed. Gracefully, she approaches, her movements mirroring the fluid elegance of a bird. With a discerning sniff, she assesses the air around you both. Her keen eyes flicker to Azriel’s chest–where the emerald, the greatest token of your affection, securely rests beneath his leathers. His siphons awaken in response, pulsing with a powerful and protective luminescence.

“Your heart. Your precious, precious heart,” she whispers, her voice on the brink of tears.

There’s a drastic shift in her voice when she speaks again. It darkens with a mother’s fierce intensity and echoes through the room like a hissing serpent. “You’ve given it to him.”

Your mother outstretches her hand, toward Azriel, her gesture laden with an unmistakable agony. With a resolute urgency, you press your hand against Azriel’s chest, your other hand still wrapped around his. You can feel the pulse of his heart beneath the gem. It’s fast and erratic but gradually soothes under your touch.

Given your family's history, you can't blame your mother for reacting this way. Maeve's father was a charming merchant, who enjoyed traveling through the sea, and was very aware of his heartthrob status. Your mother was not immune to his allure and though she did not love him, she was possessive over him. So when she caught him touching another female, she cut his hand off, forcing him to always think of her for the rest of his life. She keeps the hand she severed preserved in a jar at her house.

On the other hand, Thea's father was a peregryn warrior who loved studying the stars in his free time. He was probably the best male out of all three...if he hadn't picked his loyalty for his court over your mother. Surprisingly, your mother left him alone and unharmed but she made a good example of him to you all because even the kindest of men were not to be trusted.

But Azriel is different.

His sweetness, care and love create a warmth that gently embraces your heart. You’ve spent a lifetime shielding your heart as your mother taught you but with Azriel, it feels different. He is your mate. Your other half, crafted by The Mother and Cauldron itself. In his presence, you find a haven where vulnerability is not a weakness but a welcomed connection.

“I love him.”

Wheeling with a snarl, she fixes her sharp gaze back onto you. Her hand tenses midair and her talons peak out before dropping it back to her side. She leans so close you can feel her breath tickle yours. Her gaze travels down to the obsidian necklace you keep on at all times for protection and she feels her throat tighten when she sees the new charm attached to it. It’s an initial. A for Azriel.

“You stupid, foolish girl. What have you done? Have I taught you nothing?”

Azriel growls and his shadows tense as they await their master’s next order. Your hand tightens against him and you send a wave of reassurance through the bond. This was exactly what you had been hoping to avoid. The last male you introduced to your mother was turned into a frog and you hadn’t put up a fight as the male had fallen under Maeve’s spell. But this time, you were willing to fight and defend what was yours.

“I think it's quite brave,” a dreamy voice cuts in through the tension. “A true testament to love.”

“Shut up, Thea.” Maeve snaps. “No one asked for your opinion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you ask for a reading!”

“Azriel.” Your mother’s voice is sharp, demanding attention. “You hold something extremely dear to me now. If I find you to be careless with it–if you so much as hurt y/n in any shape or form…I will hunt you down, rip your heart out and eat it for breakfast.”

“She’s not joking,” Maeve decides to chime in. “She ate Thea’s lover for dinner once.”

“Must you always jump at the opportunity to remind me?” Thea retorts with a look of pained disgust on her face and you almost feel bad for her. She did love that male terribly, as undeserving as he was.

“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal, my dearest,” your mother says in a perplexed tone. She rolls her eyes at the scoff she received in response. “He was a human.”

“He was the love of my life!”

“And others too.” Maeve cuts in, lips curled into a lopsided smirk as she gazes at her nails. “Mother did you a favor there.”

“This,” you say to Azriel, lifting your chin toward your family. Your mother and sisters continue to bicker back and forth while Binx zooms after the rolling cage imprisoning your father. You sigh deeply and Azriel now understands why you were on edge all week, why you had shut him out.

“This is my family.”

As if on cue, your family turns to him. Binx rests a paw on the rolling cage, halting its movement. Even the green gecko inside seems to peer curiously at the Shadowsinger, its tiny eyes glinting in the dim light.

Your mother, a formidable figure with an air of ancient wisdom, focuses her attention to Azriel. The expression on her face is a complex blend of skepticism and concern. Her dark eyes narrow as if probing his very soul–a look that has sent many to mad chaos and the room seems to hold its breath as Azriel meets her gaze.

You step in between them both. “Mother, must you always do this?”

“It’s okay. I have nothing to hide,” Azriel reassures you as he holds your mother’s gaze, unwavering and resolute. “I would never dream of hurting y/n. I love her.”

“He speaks the truth, mother. He’d kill for her, I’ve seen–ow!”

Your mother’s keen eyes linger on him. Despite Thea’s words, she wants to see for herself. The room feels suspended in time as she carries on with probing into his very soul. She’s peering into the depths of his heart, seeping into its cracks and searching for any hint of insincerity. The tension in the room starts to dissipate as she must sense something she agrees with. Slowly, her lips gradually curve in a smile–a genuine one.

“I like this one,” your mother says as she turns to you. “I shall spare you the part of my visit where I ask you to come back home with me as I now know it will be pointless. So let’s have dinner, hmm? All this excitement has me famished.”

Your mother clasps her hands together, springing the room into action. Binx resumes messing around with your father and Maeve makes her way to your kitchen, your mother following after her.

“I did not agree to you staying for dinner!” You call after them, shooting Azriel an apologetic look.

“She was going to agree anyway.”

Azriel turns to your sister–the closest to a normal relative you seem to have. Her blue eyes, flecked with silver hold a spark of otherworldly wisdom as she regards him.

“You can see the future?”

She tilts her head, a cascade of blonde curls falling over her shoulder. Her lips curl into a knowing smile and her peregryn wings flutter. “Only what the stars tell me,” she replies cryptically. “Would you like me to read your cards?”

Azriel contemplates for a moment. He turns toward the kitchen and his eyes find you. You’re engaged in a lively debate about the perfect amount of herbs, claiming that only a pinch of thyme is needed while Maeve stubbornly shakes her head.

“Out of my kitchen! Go seduce a pig for all I care before I hex you with an angry nest of bees!”

His love for you deepens with every passing second and he nearly startles when he feels a flutter in his chest. It’s you. You echo the sentiment very loud and clear through your end of the bond.

“No.”

“Why not?” She teases, though she already knows the answer.

“Because right now, I have everything I could ever want.”

Once your family departs, relief washes over you, and you finally feel able to breathe freely. Leaning against the door, you release a sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter shut momentarily. When you reopen them, your gaze lands on Azriel in the living room. He's seated, head tilted back, eyes closed, weariness evident. Moving towards him, you saunter over, and without a word, he instinctively pulls you onto his lap, his eyes still shut in a shared moment of exhaustion and solace.

Your hands tenderly cradle his face, bathed in the soft glow of your green magic. You massage his temples, your fingertips tracing away the remnants of the headache your mother’s earlier probing had left behind. A contented sigh escapes him at your soothing touch.

“Thank you,” he breathes and his hands find their place at your hips.

You press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I should be the one thanking you.”

He opens his eyes and there’s a subtle perplexity among them. “How come?”

“Because they’re chaotic,” you answer and tipping your chin down sheepishly, you continue, “I’m sorry for shutting you out. I was doing my best to keep them from coming but I should’ve just told you instead. I was trying to protect you from all of this–”

A scarred finger props your chin up, urging you to look back up at him. The hand that remains at your hip tightens with a comforting reassurance. You find yourself lost in the depths of his beautiful hazel eyes and like always, they anchor you like a tranquil forest bathed in sunlight.

“You don’t have to protect me from this. I accept it–all of you. I love you,” he murmurs. The corner of his lips tug up into a small smile. “Though I do find you unbearingly adorable when you’re protective.”

“Adorable?” You can’t help but laugh. Others would beg to differ. You're sure your eyes have given Cassian nightmares.

“Especially when it’s all for me,” he nearly purrs, pressing kisses to the corner of your eyes. The very eyes he adores, even when they transform into inky pools of black.

He kisses the nape of your neck and your breath hitches. “Did you mean it?”

Azriel hums against your neck. “Mean what?”

“What you said to Thea earlier,” you say, mindlessly confessing that you had been listening to his short conversation with your sister.

You feel him smile against you. “Of course I did. Whatever the future may bring, as long as I have you, that's enough for me. You’re my everything.”

When he pulls away to look at you, you’re beaming at him. His nose brushes against yours and your hands cup his face again, eyes flickering to his lips before you guide them to yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You slide your tongue along the softness of his bottom lip, reveling in his honeyed taste and he parts his mouth for you, a small sound of pleasure slipping between your lips.

You kiss him and kiss him until the future seems like a distant thought, overshadowed by the perfection of the present.

a/n: I was driving to an appointment when I randomly thought of how chaotic reader's family is and wanted to introduce them formally in case I want to incorporate them in future imagines. This takes place shortly before the one where you get kidnapped.

Also, I'm currently watching the Witcher and I couldn't help myself and use this scene to help me write the part where Maeve tries to seduce Az.

tagging: @fxckmiup

#azriel x reader #azriel x witch!reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfiction #azriel imagine #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar x y/n #acotar x you #azriel fluff #az!dandelions

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n30nwrites · 2 months

Text

Now Sit (Shifter! TF141 x Male Reader)

Part 2 of Good Doggy

Masterlist here

Warnings: None really??? I'm not sure. Some awkwardness but that's cause Reader couldn't give less of a fuck. Some creepy behavior

Updated; 3/5/2024

Beta Reader: the lovely @letmelickyoureyeballs who's saving your guys asses right now

Part 1 here.

The entire house was shrouded in darkness. The windows were covered up in thick fabrics of purples and blacks. You didn't have any lights on, instead some candles that were hastily lit when you had entered the building and a few lamps. Your eyes were thankful for the darkness after the long drive during the day.

Your first trash bag was filled with clothing fabrics, they all needed to be washed so you quickly filled the tub with warm water and laundry soap, sorting the fabrics by color before tossing in the divided groups. Starting with your whites.

You decided to bring more boxes in, figuring the more you unboxed the easier it would be when the rest of your stuff arrived. Your box labeled ‘Gear’ was the first box to be put up, putting it in the closet near the entrance so you could pretend it wasn’t there. Just looking at your uniform brought back memories that you wish you could ignore. The second box was just one filled with knives, your swords were in another container wrapped up tightly in the back of Maya’s car. The Knives were put into your bedroom, you would come back to organize them when you weren’t so hungry.

You had cash ready for your pizza. Along with a tip because people needed to be tipped well. Especially in the service industry.

So when a knock echoed in the open-spaced living room, you had the cash tightly gripped, exact change in one hand and in the other the tip.

Until a man who was very obviously not the pizza delivery driver stood there, your pizza in his hand.

Well you figured it was yours. And there was no way this man was a delivery driver. He was far too fine to be one, if you were honest with yourself.

He was 6'2 which immediately put you on your toes, athletic build with graying-brown hair and blue eyes. He seems to look like he's reaching his 40s, something that shouldn't be so attractive yet is.

God, you needed therapy.

But, smash.

Nope. Nope. It was just inappropriate thoughts of an impossible achievement. You didn't need a relationship, not after your last one. You needed solitude, you needed to live a normal life without constant stares.

"Why do you have my pizza?" You ask him, money being squished.

"I paid for it, figured I could do that for the new guy." He speaks and seems almost cheerful, which is strange.

"I'm not paying you back."

"You don't have to." He handed the pizza to you and you snatched it quickly, almost comically. "Okay, bye." You go to shut the door but he quickly protests.

"Wait, who are you?" He seemed desperate and you didn't understand it. You sat the pizza on the table you had set up right next to the door, which was supposed to hold trinkets and your keys but you hadn't put the bowl there yet. You rolled your hand, rubbing your wrist that had ached from just a minute of holding the pizza. It was something you were working on fixing, just not right now.

"Who are you?"

"John, I live over at that house." He points to the house that Stalker 1 and Stalker 2 stood outside of. It was big enough for you to assume they were roommates, or perhaps a family.

"Can you tell the guys to not stare next time? It was uncomfortable." You blankly told him, before introducing yourself, only saying your first name, same as John did.

"This is a pretty big house for you to live all alone in." He was fishing for information, John knew that it could come off creepy, but he needed to know something about this person in front of him.

His mate.

"I don't live alone." You tell him, and he believes you are lying to him. He doesn't hear another heartbeat, and Ghost and Soap said that you arrived alone. "My Partner is coming with the rest of our stuff."

Partner? Why the hell do you have a Partner? How could you not know that you have three (maybe four with the way this pattern is) men waiting for you, willing to do anything for you. He's angry, and he knows that it makes no sense to be. You had lived your entire life before meeting them, it's not like you could drop everything and move in with him.

Despite everything in his body screaming at him to take you into his home and keep you there, keep you safe. And it's unreasonable, and something he would never do unless he wanted to traumatize you.

His eyes slightly widen at his own thoughts, and he needs to take a step away from you. You muddle his brain, you confuse him. He's had partners in the past, but this was different.

You weren't even supposed to be here.

"I'm sorry for bothering you sir, hope you enjoy your pizza." He takes a step away and turns and you don't bother to say goodbye or even thank him. You shut the door and he can hear you shuffle around and grab the pizza.

Price hates himself for what he's going to do next.

Gaz is almost surprised at the meeting. He says almost simply because he knew Price was going over to the neighbors, he watched the leader leave the house and pay off the pizza man. So something had to happen.

They just had to wait for Ghost to get home. Price was insistent on it, that everyone needed to be there and they couldn't wait nor do it over the phone.

He just wasn't expecting the words.

A theory that you were somehow mates with all of them. Price had revealed your status to him which caused Soap to blow up. It seemed ridiculous, all four of them connected to you.

But Gaz wanted it to be true. If he could just walk over and meet you, to find out.

If Gaz could no longer feel so alone because of you. He would do anything for that. So he didn't care that Ghost didn't seem to trust you, claimed you could be some creature putting a spell on the team, he didn't care that Soap wanted you for himself. He didn't care that Price was still talking.

He went outside and ignored the protests.

And he was lucky too, because a car had pulled up to your house and you walked out, sunglasses on and a large jacket which didn't fit for the weather.

But he could finally see if it was true.

-----

Okay so I skipped my homework to finish this (i'm not gonna be this irresponsible I swear) and I made a poll here where you can decide on if reader is a human or not. I have plot points for both (probably a longer story if not human??? but that depends on what the people want) also please reblog and leave comments I usually lose interests with these and I'm trying not too. Gonna post a Masterlist for this soon, and if you want to follow the story you can follow the tag Good Doggy FF so you don't have to have notifs on lol.

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disneyprincemuke · 3 months

Text

of drunk regrets * fem!driver

the morning after vegas

what does one do when you have no recollection of getting married?

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver

notes: hi late update and that’s because i was crocheting the entire day lol

(series masterlist)

she hums turning around, her arm landing on something solid instead of a soft pillow. she opens an eye, flinching back when her eyes land on someone’s clothed back, then groans when nausea slowly hits her.

“who the fuck is this?”

the person next to her hums. they left their head before dropping it back into the pillow. “mm.”

she looks around to the best of her ability, snorting when she realises that amidst all her drunken antics from the night before, they didn’t even end up on the bed. they’re sleeping on the carpeted floor of her hotel room.

she lifts her head, ignoring the nausea hitting her all at once. the bed is empty.

a hand comes up to nurse her head, looking down at the body lying next to her with the blanket draped over their shoulder loosely. she brought somebody back to her hotel room with her? now that’s just a tabloid rumour waiting to blow up in her face when she opens up her phone.

she leans forward, wobbling slightly, as she tries to get a glimpse of their face. her eyes widen, landing a smack on their shoulder with some force. "what the hell are you doing here?"

"don't hit me, i'm trying to sleep."

"mick! you're in my hotel room!"

"what?" blue eyes are exposed to the dim lights of the room, disappearing once more when mick shuts his eyes. "what am i doing here?"

"how would i know?" she sighs, slowly lying back down on the ground. "i don't remember anything."

"we didn't do anything... did we?"

she looks down at herself, surprisingly dressed in her pyjamas without any recollection of even making it back into her hotel room in the first place. "i hope not."

"you hope?" mick cries, shaking his head in dismay. "this is not good."

"give me a second. i need to think," she sighs, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. "start thinking. do you remember anything from last night?"

mick also sighs, simply shaking his head. he pulls the blanket over his body and snuggles back into his pillow. "no, but wake me up when you've figured it out. i'm really hungover right now, mate."

"really? you don't think i am?"

"i'm sure you are, but– what the hell is this on my finger? when did i get a mood ring?"

"you have a mood ring?" there's a momentary pause. "oh, look. i've got one too. when did i–"

they both sit up hurriedly, hissing in pain as they point at each other with a loud gasp. "no! are you serious? did we really do that? when did we even have the time to do that?"

mick cries. "my mother is going to kill me."

"mine will kill me – i'm barely 21, mick!"

"i'm going to american jail! you're not even legal here!" he rubs his eyes. “i don’t wanna go to jail here!”

she scrambles around for her phone, eyes widening at her notifications.

SUPERMAX you and mick???

RATSELL what's ur ig post about m8?

LOWGAN when u wake up, there's a cup of water and an advil on the bedside for u also, check ur instagram

PASTRY you did the funniest thing last night.

LILLIES thanks for the free pizza wish i could've been there for the actual ceremony though? it's ok, maybe at your next wedding

ALBONO please tell me you didn't

LAW SON i think u may have sent logan over the edge cuz wtf is bro doing in my hotel room ranting to charlotte and i at 5am

MICKEY ur asleep rn i can't sleep when do u think we should renew our vows??? oh no we got married!??!??!

BLYTHE mate u got married without me in attendance??? not saying i'm offended but like seriously?

THE BETTER SARGEANT who u married to? if it's logan istg omg is it mick? i saw ur instagram

LANCE

congrats!!!

if i’d known sooner, i’d have bought you a wedding gift before landing in vegas

i’ll get one before the last race i promise

SEBASTIAN ur very funny, do u know that? text me when ur up, we should talk

MUMMY wowww let me know what wedding gift to get you you grow up so fast, my love

PAPA what is all this ruckus i'm hearing between mum and blythe about you getting married? call me.

KRISTEN (PR) team meeting asap. bring the schumacher.

she glances at mick. "my dad's going to kill you."

mick turns to her, shoulders slumped with his eyes widened in panic. "i really really hope my mother gets to me first." he shakes his head and pats around the ground for his phone. "you know what? i'll just tell her myself."

“don’t bother,” she scoffs, lying back down in the pillow sprawled on the floor. “i vividly remember you calling gina when we were getting pizza that you married me in vegas.”

kristen chews on the inside of her cheek, scanning the group around her. "what is this? i only told you to bring mick."

the girl takes off the sunglasses on her face and sighs. "you think i didn't try telling them off? is this your first time meeting these losers? i– listen, i'm too hungover to tell them off, kristen."

"please let us stay?" max smiles, batting his eyelashes at the older woman. "i promise we'll be quiet. i'm just curious over the events of last night."

"so am i," kristen points out in a soft voice, moving her eyes over the pair seated on the couch on the other side of her table. at that point, they are the least of her concerns. "do you know the pr nightmare you just caused over a couple of drinks? do you have any idea the reckless thing you just did?"

"please don't shout," she says softly, eyes closing. "it was stupid, we know. in my defense–"

"they shouldn't have even let us in the chapel in the first place in that state," mick sighs, shaking his head disapprovingly. “so technically, whose fault is it, really?”

“both of yours for even coming up with the stupid idea in the first place!” logan screams, pointing at them in frustration. “you made a bad decision!”

kristen glances at logan, shooting him a side eye for disrupting her meeting. when logan shrugs, she simply looks back at the married pair her seats. “you’re not even 21! you did this in america too! god!”

“and they shouldn’t have permitted it knowing that i wasn’t 21!” the young girl shrieks, immediately defending herself. this is a hill she is willing to die on. “let’s focus more on the fact that they let two drunk idiots get married instead of the fact that i thought of it.”

“you came up with that idea?” max throws his head back, hissing softly as he shook his head. “why am i not surprised?”

“right? you have to tell her how stupid she is for this,” logan rambles in frustration. “seriously! you couldn’t go one year without making a stupid decision?

she rolls her eyes, glancing at mick from the side of her eyes. he flashes her an apologetic grin and she shrugs with another eye roll in response.

“i mean, you’re an adult. you can do whatever you want, but do you know how legally exhausting the entire process will be from here on out?” max continues, throwing his arms in the air. “knowing you, you won’t like it! there’s a lot of papers to sign!”

“and paper work to read!” logan adds on. “seriously!”

“god, (y/n), how could you be so stu–“

“i came up with the idea,” mick speaks out, turning to max and logan with a small smile. “it’s not her fault, you guys. come on. lay off her a little bit.”

she shoots him a questioning stare. “no, wait–“

mick laughs. “the deal at the pizza place just looked so good. i’m not excusing it because we were drunk, but cut us some slack.”

sebastian, sitting quietly in the corner of the room, finally stands up. he folds his arms over his chest. “it doesn’t matter who came up with the crazy idea to get married in vegas.”

“you’re still not mad?” logan raises an eyebrow. “there’s got to be some part of you that is.”

“how about let me conduct my meeting with my driver in peace? unless you want to take over my job of being her pr officer…” kristen speaks out, looking around the room to shut down any more forms of interruption. she looks back at her. “let me see the marriage certificate.”

“the what?”

“you signed one, didn’t you?“

she scrunches her nose and looks at mick. “did we sign one? i really can’t remember.”

“i don’t,” mick cuts himself off, looking just as clueless, “i literally blacked out last night. i don’t remember anything.”

sebastian beams, standing a little straighter. “i have it right here! look at it, kristen.”

he puts down a piece of paper on the table. the entire room watches the woman read over the paper, lips pressed together.

a small laugh bubbles from her, grabbing the certificate into her hands and bringing it closer to her face. her laugh gets a little louder, sebastian eventually joining her with a hand over his mouth.

“what is so funny?” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “all i can think about is the shopping spree i can’t have this month over the lawyer fees.”

“and the fact that i could end up in american jail for marrying a 20-year-old!”

kristen grins, slamming the certificate down onto the table. “it’s illegitimate.”

“what?”

“oh?”

“surprising turn of events!”

“illegitimate?”

a hand slams into the table, the youngest in the room jumping to her feet. “illegitimate? what about my free pizza? how is that illegitimate? i’m not a schumacher anymore?”

“you changed your name?” oscar pipes up, roaring in laughter, covering his face. this entire ordeal has been very amusing to him.

she turns around sheepishly with a small smile. “i was planning to. how cool would it be to be a schumacher?”

“what the fuck?” logan says to her, bewildered at the thought process. “you’re not married and you’re telling me that’s the only thing you’re concerned about? not being a schumacher in the eye of the law?”

mick giggles, looking up at her with an impressed expression. “schumacher does go along well with your name.”

“i know. should we get married for realsies after this weekend and legally change my name?”

“have you learned nothing from this?” kristen throws her hands into the air. she leans back into her seat, letting out the heaviest sigh of relief as she no longer has to engage with any legal teams. pr wise, it would be easy.

she shrugs, sitting back down into the cushioned seat. “don’t get drunk with mick in vegas.”

“first and last time i’m drinking that much with you,” mick adds on with a snort. though, there’s a small smile playing on his face as he looks at her.

they both know that won’t be the last time they’ll be sending their pr officers into a frenzy. they’re truly a force to be reckoned with.

and, it could have been worse.

“i paid for all the pizzas you ate and threw up last night,” sebastian sighs, shaking his head. “you owe me like $100.”

she nods. “okay, i’ll pay you. still no shopping spree for me this month, i guess.”

mick clicks his tongue, giving her a thumbs up. “i’ll pay him. consider it my wedding gift to you, wife.”

“she’s not your wife,” logan points out with an eye roll. “didn’t even get married in the first place, remember? illegitimate. not even a real certificate. never happened. literally no record of it.”

“i’m curious,” max furrows his eyebrows and lips pouted out. “how did you pull this off to make it seem real, seb?”

“i arrived to their ‘wedding’–“

“not real!”

“logan, cut it out.”

“–before them. i spoke to the receptionist before they arrived; they don’t let drunk people get married. i convinced her to give them the slot anyway just to teach these two a lesson.”

“impressive?” kristen smiles. “you just saved me a lot of paper work.”

“and mick the beating he’d get from her dad if it actually ever happened to go through.”

she smiles, leaning over the arm rest to whisper at mick. she taps him on the shoulder. “we should celebrate with ice cream.”

— bonus

they flood out of the office collectively, the young girl looking down at the mood ring around her ring finger. “we should keep the rings, shouldn’t we, mick? keepsake.”

“to remind you of your bad decision making?” logan questions.

“no, to piss you off.” she turns around and shoves him back gently. “of course, just to keep memory of the one time i was almost a schumacher!”

sebastian tilts his head. “you know you’ll still be you, right? even if you’re legally considered a schumacher? you won’t get his blue eyes.”

“i could,” she hums with a smile. “so, husband. watching the race from my garage tonight like a factory manufactured wag?”

“can’t, wife,” mick sighs. “i work for mercedes.”

“i could get you the second seat if you wanted.”

“you have the power to do that?” she nods. “that’s hot.”

“cut it out, you guys are making max uncomfortable!” oscar grunts, pushing the pair apart.

beside them, max has his fingers plugged into his ears and is humming softly to himself. “it’s not real, it’s not real. they’re not actually married,” he whispers to himself. “and it will never happen.”

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roosterforme · 11 months

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The Younger Kind Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley sees Meredith again after so many months, he is filled with a range of emotions. He wonders if he has done enough for Noah on his own. His primary mission in life is to be the best dad, the one Noah deserves, and he has to be honest about how that is going to affect what he has going on with you.

Warnings: Angst, smut, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was up early. He'd barely slept anyway, but that wasn't entirely Meredith's fault. He had been scrolling through all the photos of you that he had saved on his phone, and he even considered calling you well past midnight.

He had a bad feeling. Meredith had never gone this far before. Last year and the year before, she had simply called Bradley, begging for an update about Noah around his birthday. And once he had sent her some updated photos, she briefly bugged him about custody, and then she had vanished again. But now he felt like he had made things so much worse by ignoring her calls for so long.

"What the fuck," he muttered as he got dressed. Meredith had followed you and Noah to the damn park! He wanted to believe that she wouldn't intentionally do any actual harm, but she obviously spooked you. Since you had no idea what she looked like, your reaction had been to put Noah's safety first.

Every time Bradley thought about you protecting his child, he got a warm feeling in his chest. Simply thanking you wasn't enough; he wanted to hold you and Noah and spend hours explaining it to you. Then maybe he could understand this feeling better himself.

But you got hurt in this mess that Bradley had helped create. And he needed to make it better if he could.

There was a light knock at his front door, and he went to answer it as he zipped up his jeans. "Hi," Nat whispered, giving him a tight hug as he let her inside. "What time is she coming?"

"I have no idea," he replied miserably, and Nat rubbed his back for a moment. When Bradley called her last night, she agreed to watch Noah while Meredith came by. He wanted to find out what Meredith wanted before he let her see Noah.

"Okay, well, I'm free all day. I'll take Noah with me back to my place, and you can just call me after Meredith fucks off."

Bradley nodded.

"And if Meredith doesn't feel like fucking off," she added, "I'll make her."

Bradley couldn't help but grin down at her. "Thanks, Nat. I'll go wake him up."

Once he had played another round of musical car seats, Bradley waved as Nat pulled out of his driveway with Noah and a stack of coloring books in tow. Of course the coloring books were ones that you had brought over when you came to babysit or just spend time here, and now Bradley was itching to call you.

Instead he messed around with his coffee maker and brewed a vanilla latte, just the way you liked it. He was still sipping it and thinking about how much he loved the way you looked in his house when another knock jarred him from his thoughts.

He abandoned the coffee on his counter and went to the door once again. "Meredith," he said with no emotion as the tall blonde pushed past him and into his living room.

"Bradley." Her expression was smug as she looked around; it had been years since she was here, and very little had changed. But Bradley did see her eyes catch on some of the artwork you and Noah had made for him which was hanging on the far wall. "Where's Noah?"

"He's not here," Bradley replied, tucking his hands in his pockets.

She turned back to him and glared. She had always been beautiful but haughty. "I don't want to see you. I want to see him."

Bradley didn't waver. "You specifically told me on the phone that you wanted to talk to me in person. So let's talk."

"Fine," she said cooly, dropping down onto his couch. "But next time we set something like this up, I want him here too."

Bradley almost laughed in her face as he sat too. Next time? Over his dead body there would be a next time. Noah didn't know who his birth mother was, and Bradley wanted to keep it that way. Bradley grew up without a dad, but under very different circumstances. Meredith had a track record of being nonexistent, and Bradley didn't want that for his son.

"Where is he?" she asked, sharp eyes on him.

Bradley sighed. "He's being well taken care of, Meredith."

"By your babysitter?" Then she said your first and last name, and Bradley felt a chill wash over his body.

"How do you know her name?" he grunted, clenching and unclenching his fist in his lap.

"It wasn't hard to find out after I got her license plate number. She's a nursing student at the University of San Diego, Bradley. A mere child," she said, shaking her head sadly.

Bradley's heart was pounding. Meredith knew who you were, and she wanted something from him. "Did you scare my babysitter on purpose yesterday?"

Meredith laughed, head tipped back as she placed her hand over her heart. "Are you really going to keep calling her that, Bradley? She's obviously 'babysitting Noah' because you're messing around with her. Your little booty call. And she looks like she is all of eighteen years old."

"She's twenty four. And don't talk about her like that," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "Don't."

Her eyes lit up. "So it is true. I was just making an assumption, going off a hunch. She's cute, so I'm not surprised at all. But I don't think they are going to take too kindly to a father who is busy fucking the babysitter. One who is basically half his age, at that. A father who is distracted. A trashy, young babysitter who is sleeping with someone over a decade older than her."

"Meredith," he growled, trying his hardest to stay calm, but he was seething now.

"And you let that trash around our son, Bradley. A glorified slut, making money and getting laid while she's at it. And that's not even taking into account that you're still in the Navy. You leave Noah with random friends of yours every time you're deployed, none of whom are his legal guardian. None of them can make decisions in an emergency. You lack any and all stability." She was completely calm as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and sighed. "No, they will not like that at all."

"What the fuck are you getting at, Meredith?" And then Bradley noticed for the first time that she brought a fancy looking leather bag with her, out of which she procured a manila folder.

"This should spell everything out nicely for you." She handed it to him, and he opened it and skimmed through a stack of papers. His heart rate grew steadily faster until it was getting hard to breathe. It felt just like the first time he hit 8 G's. He was going to throw up. Bradley could feel the bile rising in his stomach as the panic truly set in. His insides clenched as he looked at her.

"You want custody."

"Full custody, yes. I have a lawyer. A good one."

He closed the folder and tried to hand it back to her, but she pulled her hands away and stood. "You can keep that," she said with a smirk. "I made several copies."

Bradley stood as well, and got in her face. "No judge in this entire state is going to award you custody of Noah. Not after the shit you've pulled."

She shrugged and headed for the door. "Lucky for me, you've pulled your own shit. We'll just have to wait and see who sounds more believable."

His heart was thudding, and his ears were ringing. "You abandoned us, Meredith! You haven't paid a single penny for anything in nearly four years, and Noah doesn't even know who the fuck you are!"

As she turned the knob, she looked back at him and said, "Abandonment is a strong word, and you can't prove anything. And may I suggest you learn to keep your emotions in check? It will be good practice for the courtroom. And you need to keep that girl you're sleeping with away from our son. I won't hesitate to ruin her if I need to. You already forced me to go through her once, Bradley. I'll do it again with no remorse if I have to. Noah is my son. Just because that girl is fucking you, that doesn't give her the same rights I have."

"Do I need to get a restraining order, Meredith?" he called, but she was already walking out to her car with a little wave over her shoulder.

"Not if you want me to allow you to have visitation rights. Oh, and make sure you answer my calls next time, so we can prevent another visit at the park!"

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

You were laying on your back porch in the sun, trying to finish reading your assignments for the following week. Every hour or so, your phone went off, but it was never from the only person you wanted to hear from. It was just a bunch of texts from Greyson, begging you to come over. He must be bored. It was probably too early in the day for him to get stoned, and you knew he was too lazy to look for another girl for the night. That was why he was bothering you now.

You squinted and turned your head away from the sunlight and thought about your ruined sunglasses, crunched up in the parking lot next to the playground. Bradley said he was going to call Meredith. You were so embarrassed; you actually ran away from Noah's mom. Surely she wasn't going to hurt either of you. She probably just wanted to see him, even if she did sound like a bitch when Bradley described her. But she was pretty. And probably just the right age for Bradley. Now you had a very clear image in your mind of exactly what he was trying to replicate when he was using the dating app.

You had a gross feeling in your stomach. You hated waiting like this. You were always waiting for everyone else. First you waited for Greyson to contact you whenever he wanted to see you. More recently you'd been waiting for Bradley to let you know where you stood with him.

When you decided you were hungry, you stood and went to your kitchen. You tore open a bag of Skittles as you looked through your refrigerator, but after you ate a handful, you left the rest on the counter and walked away.

When your phone rang late in the afternoon, you answered it as soon as you saw who it was.

"Bradley?" you asked softly, and you were met with a beat of heavy silence that made you want to cry.

"Hi. Any chance you can stop by later? Just for a minute?"

"Yeah," you replied, pacing the length of your small living room before curling up on your couch. "I can do that."

"I'll see you later."

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

Nat kept Noah at her place for most of the day while Bradley had a good, old fashioned nervous breakdown. His best friend was good like that, and he didn't even have to give her any details yet. She just knew what to do without any prompting.

Bradley sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor and thought about everything he could lose if this didn't work out for him. He had a dresser full of Noah's little clothes behind him, and a closet full of Noah's toys next to him. He paid for everything for his child. And not that Noah was a burden on him in any way, but they never got any help from Meredith, monetarily or otherwise. But he could see how it would be impossible to prove she abandoned the two of them. And it probably didn't help that he never returned her phone calls or let her see him when she begged in the past.

She was a business developer. She made more money than Bradley. But he never went after her for a cent, because he knew he would rather have his son to himself than have to share Noah with someone who didn't really care about him.

So why the fuck did Meredith want to be involved now? It didn't make sense. And Bradley hated that he thought the worst of her at this moment, but he did. He just knew there had to be something he was missing here.

He laid back on the floor and fiddled with his phone, forcing himself to stop from calling you. He rubbed one large hand along his face and let out a sting of curse words. The fact that he wasn't sure if he would be able to protect his own son was making him anxious and scared. But he could protect you. He could save your name from being dragged through the mud. He could prevent you from potentially spending your time in a courtroom, from becoming collateral damage to Bradley's crime of falling for Meredith and getting her pregnant in the first place.

And Bradley knew he had to protect you, because he wasn't worth it. Getting messed up with him was not worth your time and aggravation. He just wished he had pumped the brakes a little harder, told you this was a bad idea and shut it down earlier. He should have never let it get physical. All the flirtation and banter should have been enough for him. He should have taken it for the ego boost that it could have been and moved on, pursued a woman from the dating app and stayed away from you.

It was already too late for him though. Because he knew how you tasted. He knew all the little noises you made when you were underneath him. He knew how good you looked in his clothes. He knew how much Noah loved you. And he fucking knew you loved his kid right back.

And now all of his baggage was coming back to haunt him.

"Fuck!" Bradley shouted. And then he scrolled through his phone until he found Tracy's number. It was a Saturday, and he hated to do this on the weekend, but what choice did he have?

"Hello?"

"Tracy? It's Bradley Bradshaw. I'm not sure if you remember me, and I'm sorry it's Saturday-"

"Bradley. Of course I remember you. And your sweet son. Noah, was it?"

"Yeah," he replied, running his hand over his eyes. He had taken Noah with him last year when Nat urged him to talk to a lawyer about setting up a will. They had also touched on the topic of a custody agreement, which Bradley had firmly told Tracy was something that wasn't necessary at the time.

"What can I do for you?"

"Do you remember our conversation about custody and parental rights for Noah?"

"Yes, I remember."

He sighed deeply. "I think I need to revisit that conversation."

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

You changed into a cute sundress and packed up the three remaining coloring books and the pack of neon crayons you had for Noah. You added a bag of Skittles to your tote, and then you headed out to your car as tears prickled your eyes.

Your arm hurt a lot more today, and changing the bandages with your left hand had been challenging. You considered taking your first aid kit along with you and asking Bradley for help. But then you decided that getting over there and getting this over with was more important.

He must have spoken to Meredith by now, and while you weren't sure exactly what that meant for you, there was no doubt it wasn't good.

You parked in his driveway alongside his Bronco, and let yourself in the front door. It was late. Noah was probably in bed already. That was probably why Bradley asked you to come now.

"Hi," you whispered. He was sitting in the middle of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, and he looked impossibly handsome as he glanced up at you.

"Hi," he echoed, his voice deep and raspy. You thought that maybe he wanted to add Princess to that greeting by the way his lips were silently working, but then he snapped his mouth shut.

You wanted to go sit in his lap. It was the only thing that would make you feel better right now, but you knew you shouldn't do it. And as you took a few steps closer to him, he stood, and you could feel the heat from his big body.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly. He leaned a little closer to you, like he wanted to kiss you. His hands were reaching for your hips, but you watched him clench them into fists and drop them to his sides.

"I think I will be," he replied, and you couldn't stand it any longer. You reached for his face, stroking his mustache as his eyes closed. And then you kissed him. And he kissed you back. Right before he took a staggering step away from you.

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

The only thing Bradley wanted to do was get lost in your kisses and beg for you. He wished he could forget about everything that had happened after he fucked you at your place and left for work yesterday. Pretend Meredith wasn't a threat. But he couldn't keep pretending. That much was made clear when he spoke to his lawyer earlier.

After he stepped away from you, he cleared his throat and said, "We can't do this anymore."

You laughed humorlessly as you ran your fingers along your glossy lips. "Can't do what anymore, Bradley? What exactly have we been doing?"

"Messing around," he replied, keeping his eyes on your face. It was so much more than that though, and he felt like the biggest asshole in the world for trying to make you think he felt any differently. For trying to make you think he didn't care about you. "It was fun, but I need to take things seriously. For myself and for Noah."

You pressed your lips together and looked at the floor. "Did you and Meredith get back together?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

The thought of it made him sick. It made him feel outraged to even think about Meredith at all, let alone romantically. But if that's where your mind went, then so be it.

"We talked about it."

You gasped, but you didn't look at him. "You told me she abandoned you. And you think that would be best for Noah? Best for you?"

"I'm... not sure," he replied, wanting more than anything to collect you in his arms and take care of you. Kiss you. Be with you. But he couldn't protect you and do those things right now. Not after his conversation with Meredith, and especially not after speaking to Tracy. "But sometimes people change."

"You sound unsure," you said, looking up at him hopefully as tears collected in your eyes. "Why won't you give me a good reason? A solid reason?"

Bradley ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, using his anger to hold back his own tears. "I can give you a whole list of reasons. Is that what you want?" You didn't respond verbally, but the quiver of your lips made him keep going. "You're too young for me. I need a woman more mature than you. Someone who would help me take care of Noah. Someone I could be in a real fifty/fifty relationship with. And not just with Skittles."

You sobbed, and he hated himself. But he kept going.

"You think you want this, but you don't. You're just a kid. You don't know what you want. But I can guarantee that me and all my baggage isn't it."

"I never said you had baggage-"

But he cut you off, shaking his head and saying, "I said it. So it doesn't matter what you did or didn't say. This is not going to work. I don't want this."

You had tears dripping onto your cheeks now as you looked up at him. Your pretty face was scrunched up in sadness or rage. Probably both. Because he was behaving like a dick.

Your shoulders shook while you cried. "Fine. I understand," you said through your tears. "I can't make you want me back."

He felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs, because you were the only thing he wanted right now. He had let himself indulge in his feelings for you, and now he was hurting you on purpose. And it was killing him.

"Can I say goodbye to Noah?" you whispered, swiping at your tears.

Bradley nodded, stumbling behind you as you walked quickly to Noah's room. He stood in the doorway and watched you gently brush Noah's hair away from his forehead as you sobbed. Then you bent to kiss his cheek and whispered, "I love you, Noah."

Bradley couldn't take it. He turned away and walked back to the living room. He broke his own heart, which he could eventually probably handle, because the outcome he wanted was important to him. He could come to terms with keeping you away from him. He knew you'd be better off without him in the long run anyway.

But he hadn't anticipated how much this was going to hurt his son. Maybe he had made a mistake.

When you walked back into the living room with your tote bag on your shoulder, you slapped Bradley's house key against his chest without looking at him. He fumbled and caught it before it dropped, but when he turned toward you, all he saw was the swirl of your dress as the door slammed shut behind you.

Bradley stood with the key in his hand, inhaling the smell of wildflowers as he listened to your car pull out of his driveway.

"Goodbye, Princess."

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

Bradley, what did you do?! Hope you enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 14

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kaiser-author-san-iii · 1 year

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Star Light, Star Bright | Fatui Harbingers x (Fem)Creator!Reader

A/N: holy Tsarista, I did not think that it would be this popular. Thank you so much!! It's been a couple months since I got into Genshin, but I'm glad that the Harbinger trailer dropped cause otherwise, this probably wouldn't have existed lol. I apologize for the late update. I have been quite stumped in the plot and just taking a moment to come up with one. If I didn't tag everyone, I'm sorry! DM or reply to be added to the taglist! :3

Summary: Caring for children is hard, but it's especially hard when around the Fatui. Getting isekaied was the last thing on your mind after landing in the icy tundra of Snezhnaya all while your nephew is with you. What will happen when you encounter not only a Fatui Skirmisher but a Fatui Harbinger?

Tags/warnings: female reader, God!reader, Cult AU,

Not edited or beta read, we die like Signora.

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Chapter 2: The Creator's Welcome

Silence.

What could be said while the entire palace and the surrounding area waited with bated breath for their Grace to awaken?

They were fervent - they waited to leave and search for the "meaner" that has done harm to their Beloved but that would leave their Previous Grace with only the Heir for company and guard.

The Precious Heir - they have heard of them only from what was written centuries ago. He was beautiful - he was innocent and was crying for their Grace to wake up all while the Harbingers stood by with the Tsarista finally making her appearance, rushing towards the bed that their Grace rested in, bending the knee and holding their hand.

"Your Grace. Your Excellency. Oh, my Beloved Creator. What has that Meaner done to you?"

Nugget never left your side as he clutched onto your waist, but being careful with your arms as he was told by the blue-haired man with the mask. He was a doctor and clearly knew what he was talking about so the little one made sure to listen well. The Doctor man and the others gave them a room which is what his Auntie expected and though he was focused more on taking care of you, it was nice to wander around the room all while the Harbin Gingers (It was some word that he had trouble saying) always came to check on him and his auntie and even gave him coloring books and sweets and fruits. It was all so good and he made sure to save you some whenever you were going to wake up.

But he especially loved the Tsarista and Columbia (Colombina)

They were very nice. They held him when you were still asleep and he couldn't be there for the operation.

For what seemed like forever, when it was only a matter of four days, the bed shifted as Nugget was reading the latest book that the guy with the funny hat gave him. He wanted to read it to you when you woke up and his wish was soon coming true as he felt movement and looked over to see your [E/c] eyes. He gasped and immediately snuggled into the sheets and wrapped his small arms around your waist.

"Auntie! You're awake! You're awake!"

Soft wet globs of tears started to stain your shirt as you looked down at the child who held you tightly and didn't want to let go. It would have been endearing if it wasn't for the fact that you had almost died from possible blood poisoning from ignoring your wounds. Your Nephew remembered seeing a lot of gold and despite still learning, he knew for a fact blood was red.

Carefully holding him up and ruffling his hair, you kissed his forehead and wiped his tears away.

"I'm sorry I made you worry, Nugget. I promise, I'll be sure to look after myself but my main concern was you."

That response earned a pout but your nephew thought it was good enough for now. If you weren't healthy and in one piece, how are you supposed to find a husband or a wife?!

"Just don't go to sleep anymore or at least for a long time. You made everyone worry!"

"Everyone?"

At the mention, your Nephew saw the clear confusion on your face and smiled brightly, but with a glint of mischievousness as he swiftly, with his small feet could go, hopped out of bed but careful to stay clear from your arms, rushed to the door and yelled out.

"Auntie [Y/n] is awake!" he said with a bright smile that was quite contagious, but it was last minute that you saw a figure by the door, or make it two figures. They had hoods over their head but it was the masks that covered their identities - the sheer happiness was clear from their body movements and one of them rushed out to who knows where while your nephew ran back to your side and started to share all the books he's read while you were recovering.

He's always had trouble reading so it was a feat itself to see him now reading at his supposed grade level. He still had trouble with certain words but nothing to worry about.

While trying to process all that was happening around you, you heard multiple footsteps before the door flew open, and in walked in about a dozen people.

Your face heated up at seeing all the gorgeous faces quickly surround you, pulling your nephew close to your side, weary of what else could happen. But you could have sworn that there was a hint of sadness in their eyes from your pull away from them.

"Don't be scared. They helped us! They helped you! Especially the Doctor man." Your nephew grinned as he held your hand and decided to make you sit up and face the group properly and pointed at the Doctor. The Doctor that he mentioned was practically preening from the praise like a peacock showing off its feathers.

The grip on his hand lessened as you looked at all twelve people one by one. It didn't take a rocket scientist to distinguish the power that they all radiated. Though at the time, you didn't know of the power you held yourself.

The elegant lady with long white hair, icy blue eyes, and who seemed to scream 'Ice Queen', slowly walked up to your bedside with a gentle smile as her hand moved to slowly hold yours. Now, you wouldn't have minded if it was your nephew or family, but this was a stranger. A stranger with a very firm grip despite how delicate it was.

"Now. How shall we punish the meaner that's done this to you?"

Eh?

-x-

It was... a change to have people cater to your every whim despite half of them being just jokes like bringing you the finest gem. The honor of bestowing such a gem was by none other than the 9th Harbinger, Pantalone.

Your nephew was having a great time, especially when he got to get along with a majority of the Harbingers and the Fatui, who took the mission of entertaining Nugget very seriously.

Once your arms were good as new, you asked for the group of Fatui soldiers that you and your nephew first encountered. At first, they were adamant about having you and Nugget leave the palace but you needed to get back to your car and get the rest of your things.

But funnily enough, you don't remember a palace or an organization going by the Fatui in your life...

Not to mention, these people seemed to recognize you and your nephew despite you two not knowing any of them.

If you thought of it more, a headache occurred and the Tsarista was adamant in asking you to save your energy and that it didn't matter if you recognized them. That all that mattered was that you and the Heir were fine.

While bedridden, your Nephew had the privilege to waltz around like he owned the place and even got you some books to read in the meantime. You saw mentions of a Divine Creator, a God-like figure that was first in creating the world around you and beyond, the one that made the stars and skies. A Divine Creator from the Beyond gave life to a speck in the skies and named it Teyvat and thus, its first child was born.

During a certain period when the Creator was roaming freely, they announced that their sister was with child and so, the Creator named the unborn babe the Heir to Teyvat.

The book was quite the read and wanting to know more about why the people around you and Nugget called you the Divine Creator and the Heir, you took it around with you.

"Your Grace, you must bundle up. Snezhnayan winters are quite brutal. People freeze to death here, quite literally in fact." announced a Fatui sniper, the one that first saw you and Nugget as he came behind you and placed a coat, courtesy of Pantalone of course, on your shoulders and your nephew too.

Stepping out to the brutal snow, instead of the harsh snow that you were expecting, it was a light snowfall that shocked the group of Fatui that decided to travel with you.

[Nephew's Name] stepped out from behind you and cheered happily as he rushed out to the snow and started to play, making snowmen and snow angels with, of course, the Fatui looking out and being won over by the child's heart-felt giggles.

They were all trying to make sense of why the snowfall was reduced to just light snow instead of the blizzards they're used to until they recalled that their Divine Grace and the Heir were right here with them. Teyvat was the Divine Creator's first child and as the loyal child it was, it could always sense where they were. Though Snezhnaya was the domain of the Tsarista, the Cryo Archon, the Divine Creator's word was Law.

Ehe.

Everything came to a slow stop as the world first heard the giggle from the Creator and with each step that you had taken, noticeable patches of green started to appear and grow more and more. The chilled winds of winter called down as the grey skies parted to make way for the rays of the sun.

The Tsarista felt the pause of winter, looking out that the frozen lands of her region have warmed up to what it had been long ago before her ascension.

Her Grace has given warmth back to the frozen tundras of Snezhnaya to the point that the flora and fauna basked in the sunlight. "Nugget. Be careful. The snow is melting."

And like that, the snow stopped melting just enough for your nephew to enjoy making snow angels.

'Welcome to Teyvat, Divine Creator!'

TAGLIST:

@lizzhearthz, @yoshikuno , @anonclyde , @khalhaimdad, @ellenoir

@yunsblog030 , @lsleepysimpl, @potol0ver, @kitty-chan33

#genshin self aware #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #Harbingers x reader #Fatui harbingers #genshin cult au #sagau #Dottore x reader #Pantalone x reader #Scaramouche x reader #Childe x reader #Capitano x reader #Coloumbina x reader #Sandrone x reader #Pierro x reader #female reader #Signora x reader

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covetyou · 4 months

Text

best in show

ao3 ⋆ masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dual narrative, masturbation (m), voyuerism, drug reference (our boy is sober but struggling), subby Dieter, slight humiliation kink, very brief mentions of other sex acts (anal play, PIV, cum play), reader talks Dieter through a very nervy wank. word count: 3.7k summary: The Academy Awards, the most well known, well planned, film award ceremony in the world. So why is the host missing?

A/N: @agentjackdaniels happy holidays from your space sisters secret santa! sorry if this is a bit early for you - it's the 20th in my time zone, I promise! I went the route of award show!Dieter with a twist. Welcome to the Oscars, with your eccentric host - Dieter Bravo.

the suits mentioned are from SNL (blue, we're ignoring the yellow pants), the late late show (pink) and the tonight show (green).

dividers by @saradika-graphics follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

"Bravo, you're up."

You rap your knuckles against the door again, hoping against hope that he just hasn't heard you and he isn't coked up out of his mind.

"Bravo!" you shout, knocking harder this time, as a voice blares through your in-ear. Fifteen minutes until showtime and the host is still nowhere to be seen. And it is your fault. You'd drawn the short straw and had been tasked with being his handler for the night, keeping him out of mischief and on time. Currently, it looked like you were failing at both.

"Right, I'm coming in!" You cannot be dealing with this shit. You're not paid enough.

You open the door, poking your head around to see if he's inside the dressing room, like he should be, only to find it completely empty. Stepping inside and closing the door behind you, you take in a deep breath and put your hands on your hips. Fuck. Whoever's idea to put Dieter-fucking-Bravo as the host for this years Oscars really needed a kick up the ass, and you'd be first in line to do it.

The room looks tidier than you expected. There's not an obvious illicit substance in sight. Sparkling water sits on the vanity, along with make up and haircare products. You didn't even know where his stylist is, but it was nice to know she'd at least been here. His clothes are still neatly lined on a rail - the first hanger is empty and you assume that's a good sign. It's got to be, right?

Except, Dieter Bravo is still nowhere to be found, and you've ran out of places to look for him.

The only conundrum is all the lights are still on. He'd left the room in such a hurry that he hadn't bothered to switch them off, and yet no one had reported him frantically dashing out in a drug fueled mania.

Even the bathroom light is on. And the door is ajar. You think it won't hurt to check inside, or at least turn the light off. A place like this burned through electricity like nobodies business, but your compulsion to turn off unused lights wins out and you're heading toward the bathroom on auto-pilot.

You only hear the whimper when you're already pushing the door open, and by then it's too late to stop.

That's how you find yourself stood in the doorway, watching as Dieter Bravo furiously jerks his cock with his eyes slammed closed and his head thrown back. You could back out, you should, but instead you stare transfixed as his fist moves over himself, so lost in it all that you don't even think he's noticed you standing there. You really should go before he notices.

Making a quiet retreat you -

"Stay."

Your eyes snap to his. He's looking at you now. His hand has stilled, squeezing himself tight, and you frown. You shouldn't. You shouldn't have even come in, and you definitely should not be seeing this, and you even more certainly must not be considering his offer.

"If you want. Please."

The nod of your head is so small it's practically imperceptible, but he sees it and groans deeply, resuming his strokes on his cock. It's framed in vibrant blue, and you're reminded how he wouldn't even be here if he didn't have that suit. One of the conditions he'd made on hosting was he would get to have a "more exciting" wardrobe, and the green, pink, and blue you'd seen wheeled in on his rail earlier today certainly lived up to that.

It looks good on him. He looks good. Fuck. You really should go, why did you nod your head.

You watch him swipe pre-cum from his head and draw it down his cock. He looks painfully stiff, and you wonder how long he's been at it, if this is the first time today or if he's been jerking himself every opportunity. Either way, you're mesmerized, watching as his large fist draws up and back down his length. You should do something - go, say something, tell him to stop, join in.

Instead, you just stand there, gaping at it like a fucking idiot. Why is your mouth watering.

"Please I-"

"You don't have long," you interrupt.

"I know, I know, I just - I can't -" he pants, looking at you with desperation.

"You can't what?"

"Come. I can't come."

You hold back a laugh. From what you'd heard about Dieter Bravo, that was not a problem he seemed to have very often. You don't hold it back well enough though, and a small sound escapes you, triggering a shudder that you watch run down his back.

"Oh god."

"Did you -?" like me laughing at you, you cut yourself off.

You lean against the doorframe, attempting nonchalance as Dieter tugs on his cock, watching you as you watch him.

You dismissed him earlier, regarding him with indifference and not ever really looking at him. But, appearances alone tell you he's changed. No longer is there a sunken look to his face from too many nights spent out of his mind. He looks healthy, healthier than you've ever seen him, but he looks scared. Frightened, borderline terrified even. You know the only thing standing between him and pure panic is his stiff cock in his hand.

It's probably why he can't come, but is equally desperate to. And if he liked you laughing, well, maybe you could give him a hand without actually giving him a hand.

"If you don't come soon, they're gonna catch you."

He groans, and his strokes slow, becoming more deliberate and focussed as you talk to him.

"Do you want that? Do you want to be caught with your dick in your hand?"

"F-no. No, I don't."

"Then you've gotta be quick and come."

He nods his head frantically, then looks down at his cock here it lays heavy in his hand. He spits, gliding the saliva across his length.

"If you're not careful you're gonna make a mess all over yourself."

"Fuck, don't stop. Please don't stop."

Five minutes - has anyone got eyes on Bravo.

The stage managers voice blares through your in-ear so loudly that you know Dieter has heard it. You purposefully hold the button on your mic as you watch him, making him pinch his lips shut to hold back his moan.

"I've found him," you say into your headset, releasing the button. Let it be known you are not bad at your job, and if anyone was going to find him first it would be you.

"Didn't say you could stop. You still need to come."

"I do, I do, I need to - "

You're holding down the button on your headset again, and he audibly groans this time.

"He's in the bathroom."

When you release the button for the final time, you raise an eyebrow at him. His breaths are coming in ragged and heavy, his eyebrows pinched together as his eyes threaten to flutter closed. You're no expert, but you can tell he's close, and by the movement of his hand you can tell he's still struggling to get there.

"Look at me."

Dieter looks up, pleading with his sad, pathetic eyes. You'd be lying if you said all of this wasn't turning you on. If it hadn't turned your legs to jelly and you weren't grateful for the sturdy doorframe propping you up. If your panties weren't soaked through and your core wasn't throbbing just from watching and speaking. If you weren't desperate to take him in your hand, bend yourself over the sink in front of him, anything.

But there was no time.

With four minutes to go, you do the only thing you can.

"Come, Dieter."

He's due on stage soon. He knows he is. That very thing is the reason why he shouldn't be doing this, but the very same reason why he's doing it in the first place. He needs it, something, anything, to take his mind off of it all and to take the edge off. Six months of sobriety and too many people to keep him accountable meant he couldn't - wouldn't - turn to his usual vices, so this would have to do.

He's struggling. Any other day and he would've come already, maybe to the thought of some gloriously plush tits, painting golden tan lines with his cum. Or a tongue swirling expertly around his asshole. Or the grip of something warm and wet and hot around his cock that wasn't his own fist. But today, nothing is working.

The bang on his dressing room door startles him, not only making his whole body twitch, but his dick too.

And then comes your voice, muffled but so obviously you even through two doors.

"Bravo, you're up."

Shit. He's gotta finish fast, he can't go out here like this, and he can't go out there with nothing to relieve the panic coursing through his veins. And then his mind flicks back to earlier in the day, meeting you and shaking your hand. Your hands had been soft, and you'd smelled fresh and clean. It calmed him. But then you'd listed off everything you needed him to do and told him and his team to get to it with a sharp click of your fingers before stalking off. His cock twitches again, and suddenly he has exactly the fuel he needs to get himself off.

He begins moving his hand again, stroking his balls gently in the other. You've probably gone away, stalked off with your ass jiggling in your pants just like earlier. He grunts, closing his eyes to savor the image. You'd looked good. He can remember the clip of your sensible heels on the floor now. Fuck, he'd let you step on him with those shoes given the chance.

"Bravo!" Another knock on the door and another sigh. If you stay there knocking long enough, it'll get him off. He just knows it.

"Right, I'm coming in."

He knows he should panic. Knows he should stop, tuck his cock away, pretend he was just using the bathroom and washing his hands. But he doesn't. The threat of being caught, by you, spurs him on. If only he could get closer and just fucking come already.

The door of his dressing room opens, and Dieter has to bite back a moan. When the door closes again, he has to fight back disappointment until he hears your footsteps just outside the bathroom. He never fully closed the door, and there's no time to shut it now. He's so close.

"Oh fuck," he whispers, looking down at his weeping cock where it's gripped in his hand. It's rock solid, flushed tip oozing pre-cum that trickles from his slit and coats his fingers with every jerk of his fist.

Time drags on as he hears you walk around, looking for him. And then your footsteps approach the door and he can't help but whimper at the idea of you catching him with his cock in his hand.

His eyes slam shut, his head tilting back as he bites back a louder moan. He doesn't hear the door open, but feels the air shift, blowing a cool breeze over him that makes his dick throb in his hand. If the blood wasn't pounding out of his head so hard he would have heard your small intake of breath as you took him in.

He really should stop. But he doesn't.

And when you go to leave, he really should let you go, but he doesn't do that either.

"Stay."

You're beautiful, in a way that you wouldn't even recognize in yourself, but fuck are you beautiful. Even when you frown at him, eyebrows pinching together, you're beautiful.

"If you want. Please."

Dieter Bravo is not a begging man. Outside of the bedroom. Or the bathroom. Or anywhere else where his dick can get involved really. He didn't beg for this job, they'd approached him. He tried to make himself into such a diva that they'd retract their offer, but his agent was determined for him to take it and for once get some good PR under his belt. The promise of good PR did nothing to stop his nerves.

When your head does the tiniest of nods he feels like he could cry. Knowing that you're watching him - and, fuck, how attentively you're watching him - his balls draw tight, threatening to spill themselves before backing off. It's still not enough. Why the fuck is it still not enough.

"Please I-"

"You don't have long."

Your voice. It's like it's just been drizzled over his brain and is melting him from the inside out, turning his body to goo.

"I know, I know, I just - I can't -" he pants, looking at you with desperation. He doesn't want to admit it, but he knows it's painfully obvious that he can't come if his life depended on it. And it practically does - if he didn't come and get out there as soon as possible, his career would very likely be over. He can see the headlines now - BRAVO ABANDONS OSCARS IN COKE FUELED FRENZY. If he still did coke, he wouldn't be having this problem.

"You can't what?"

"Come. I can't come."

He knows you try not to, but he hears your laugh. It's small, but coming from you, directed at him, it does things to him he didn't expect. He lurches forward as his whole body shudders.

"Oh god."

He squeezes his eyes shut again, hoping that this'll finally be it, finally be the thing that sends him over the edge.

"Did you -?"

He didn't come, that much should be obvious, he thinks. But then he's looking at you again and gets lost in your eyes as you watch him with such nonchalance that it makes him ache down to his bones.

"If you don't come soon, they're gonna catch you."

He groans, desperate strokes becoming slow and more deliberate as he listens to your voice. If you just keep talking to him he'll get there, and this will all be over and he can get out there and do his damn job.

"Do you want that? Do you want to be caught with your dick in your hand?"

"F-no. No, I don't." Liar.

"Then you've gotta be quick and come."

He nods his head frantically, and spits down onto his cock, watching as his hand glides up and down. He imagines it's your hand for a moment, smaller more delicate fingers pulling at his cock, smoothly moving back and forth in an attempt to get him off.

"If you're not careful you're gonna make a mess all over yourself."

Dieter doesn't give a shit about that right now. Just a little longer and he'll be there, he knows it. He just needs you to keep going.

"Fuck, don't stop. Please don't stop."

Five minutes - has anyone got eyes on Bravo.

It's muffled, but he can hear the words clear as day through your in-ear. The stage manager sounds pissed, and the devilish look in your eye as you reach to press the button to respond has him biting back a moan and stilling his hand on his cock.

"I've found him."

He lets out a shaky breath when you finally release the button again, his cock feeling red hot and angry in his hand.

"Didn't say you could stop. You still need to come."

Looking to you, he starts jerking his cock again and nods. "I do, I do, I need to - "

And then you're pressing down the button to speak into your headset again and he's groaning before you even speak.

"He's in the bathroom."

He doesn't give a shit if they heard. His knees feel weak and his eyes are ready to clamp closed, but he can't resist staring at you and that cocky look on your face as you release the button again. Your eyebrow quirks at him and he knows in that moment he'd get on his knees and beg you for something, anything, if only he had the time.

"Look at me."

Dieter looks up, feeling the desperation roll off himself in waves. He wonders if you can feel it, and if any of this is having any affect on you at all. Fuck, he hopes it is. He's going to come. He's really, actually, going to come.

Time's ticking, he knows it is, and his balls are getting tight and tighter again, he can feel them pulling up but he still can't -

"Come, Dieter."

And his vision goes white as he explodes in his palm.

You're staring at him. He can't believe he just did that and you can't believe you stayed to watch. And you talked him through it.

More specifically, you're staring at the cum splashed all over his shirt and how it's slowly but steadily trickling down the fabric. He's lucky he opened his jacket before pulling his cock out, or the whole outfit would be ruined. Dieter is so blissed out that he doesn't even notice, softening cock still in his hand and eyes still closed.

Until rapidly cooling cum drips onto the back of his hand and he's opening his eyes, looking down to the crime scene splattered across his shirt.

"Fuck."

The panic in his voice is obvious. People will be bursting in to collect him any moment, and there's one hell of a mess to clean up. But, you're a problem solver by nature, it's why you're so good at your job.

"Take it off!" you tell him, snapping out of your cock induced trance and gesturing to the ruined shirt.

"What? I didn't think there was time to-"

"I'm not fucking you right now," you hiss. "You've got two minutes, take it off, I'll grab another. You've got other outfits, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah the shirt with the pink suit should work. My stylist is gonna fucking kill me - wait did you say right now - "

He's alone in the bathroom, tucking his dick away, throwing his jacket aside and peeling the soiled shirt from his shoulders before you can answer. Usually he hides the evidence, but there's not time to stash the extra shirt anywhere when there's another sudden knock on the door. The best he can do is throw his jacket back on over his bare shoulders so at least he's not seen to be topless and alone with you as he steps into his dressing room.

The door swings open just as you reach for the hanger of the pink suit, stopping you in your tracks.

"Dee. They're looking for you," his stylist walks in, looking at her phone. She spots you first, before flicking her eyes to Dieter and pointing in confusion. "Oh, hi. Where's your shirt?"

He shrugs, shoulders rising high as you stare at the exposed section of his chest now on full display beneath his jacket. "Changed my mind about it. Looks good enough like this, right?" He checks himself out in the mirror and adjusts his hair a fraction as if nothing untoward had just happened.

You're starting to understand how he won his own Oscar all those years ago.

His stylist seems to be just as eccentric as he is, and is thrilled by the choice to go shirtless. You're not sure your boss will be, but before you can offer a different shirt, Dieter is being whisked away by the production crew, all with confused looks on their faces as they take in his outfit. Dieter takes one last look back at you, mouthing a quick thank you as he's dragged off to begin the show.

The 96th Academy Awards go off without a hitch. You're already hearing reports from online that Dieter Bravo is a hit, his opening outfit being lauded as unique and a breath of fresh air for a sometimes stuffy and overly serious award ceremony. You watch him out of the corner of your eye through two costume changes - both times watching as he leaves wearing a shirt under each of his bold colored jackets.

It's a chaotic, well oiled machine, and by the time all is said and done and after parties are in full swing, you're winding down and saying thank yous and goodnight to the crew who made it all happen. One last sweep of the dressing rooms and you'll be on your way home too.

Empty, empty, empty. And then you're opening the door to Dieter's dressing room, ready to flick the light off and put the building to bed.

Except, Dieter Bravo is there, a vision in deep emerald green, holding the messed shirt from earlier in the evening in one hand and scribbling a note onto the back of a small card with the other. He sees you enter, and looks as stunned to see you as you are to see him.

"No after party?"

He looks sheepish, almost embarrassed when he answers.

"Not any more."

Admittedly, it was perhaps a stupid question to ask a recovering addict. "Oh."

You both awkwardly stand for a moment, Dieter keeping his eyes locked on the card in his hand before he's walking toward you and shoving it in front of you. You take it just as he edges past you out of the dressing room.

There's a note addressed to you and a number, scribbled hastily in Dieter's messy handwriting.

"I didn't want to be too forward, I know these things are..." he trails off with a wave of his hand. "Was just gonna leave that here and leave it up to you."

I owe you my life. Let me take you for coffee. Call me? D x

Looking up from the note, you can see him hesitantly make an exit. Calling after him, he stops in his tracks, spinning on his heel to look at you with more hope than you expect he intended.

"I'm just about to close up, if you wanted to go grab that coffee?"

And so, at 11pm on the night of the 96th Academy Awards, you find yourself in an empty diner, drinking bad coffee with Dieter-fucking-Bravo.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

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#space sisters secret santa 2023 #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #the bubble fanfiction #the bubble #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #coveted fics

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dollfaceksj · 5 months

Note

I'm gonna cry if he's mean to her 😭 she would definitely deserve it, I just wouldn't like it though

a/n: early cal update bc i won’t be able to post this weekend. 🫶🏽

can’t afford love | myg (m) #22

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“I don’t want to be alone.”

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“i don’t want to be alone.”

you say it without even glancing at him

scared of

rejection? disbelief? annoyance?

and in your peripherals you see yoongi typing away on his phone

doesn’t even glance your way

immersed in his phone

you awkwardly scratch at the back of your head

wondering why he’s straight up ignoring you

well

girl…

clearly you’ve forgotten about what the hell he confronted you with before leaving for the hospital

he has every right to just not be in the mood to even deal with you

so what if you don’t want to be alone?

he definitely didn’t want to be slapped in the face with that revelation from earlier but you still did it

“yoongi?” you say, quietly, hoping to grab his attention

but he simply keeps typing

doesn’t glance your way

you swallow your pride and reach for the door handle, opening up the car door

the sound of his belt unbuckling and snapping back in place takes you by surprise

you turn to look at him and he’s preparing to get out of the car as well

you decide not to comment on it as you get out and close the car door quietly

make your way home

with yoongi in your wake.

with your shoes kicked off by the door and your clothes messily thrown over your dresser, you slide into your pajamas

yoongi’s still on his phone, sitting on your bed

you know you deserve a cold shoulder but damn

you glance at him before getting into your bed, turning your back to him

you’re not sure he even wants to look at you

but then again, why did he decide to stay the night?

is it pity?

you suppose it is

cause if you’ve ever seen yoongi pissed off it was earlier today

“yoongi,” you say, trying to catch his attention yet again

this time he simply hums in response

you ask, “what are you doing?”

…

no response whatsoever

you frown at the wall

(since your back is turned to him)

“yoon–”

“give me a second, will you?”

okay

he sounds a bit irritated

but that’s the least he should be

he has every right to scream your head off

and yet, all thats coming out of his mouth are words laced with annoyance

he’s been on his phone since you got out of the car

who is he talking to?

is he ignoring you or is he really just preoccupied?

but who could he be texting this late at night?

you can’t help but be curious

“who are you even talking to?”

and why are you ignoring me?

no, not why

you know why

and he has every right to be mad at you

“my boss, y/n. jesus.”

his boss?

why is he talking to his boss?

at this time of–

oh.

is he

asking

for a day off tomorrow?

he took out his phone the moment you told him you didn’t want to be alone

has he been trying to get a day off? is that why his nose has been buried in his phone?

he finally locks his phone with a click and rises to his feet. “goodnight.”

you suppose he’s going to take the couch

“wait,” you call out, back still turned to him.

you hear him halt in his tracks, waiting for you to say whatever it is you need to tell him

“sleep here,” you pause. “with me.”

you almost choke as you try to get the words out

it makes you so nervous

will he think it’s a bad idea?

will he comply?

will he tell you that–

a few more moments until the bed besides you dips a bit deeper

okay

he’s in bed with you

back to yours

so close

yet soooo far

it feels like there’s a brick wall with a girth worth of 5 meters

he sighs quietly and rubs his eyes.

takes a deep breath before he says, “let’s talk.”

you’re quiet for a moment

simply staring at the wall

trying to steady your breathing

you begin, “what do you want to talk abo–”

“don’t piss me off.”

alright

you guess you deserved that one

you sigh quietly and turn onto your back to stare at the ceiling. “i’m sorry.”

he doesn’t respond

“i was selfish. what i did was selfish.”

again, no response

it’s quiet between you two

real quiet

until he finally speaks. “can i be shallow for a second?”

huh?

“oh,” you mumble. “go ahead.”

“you know,” he starts, “i married you not only because i liked you so much but because i thought you were the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

he continues, “well, in all honesty, i still do.” he doesn’t move, just continues to give you his cold back. “aside from having imagined to spend the rest of my life with you because i really believed it was going to happen, you, as a person, are everything i wanted and more.”

you continue to stare at the ceiling, feeling a tingle in your body that starts at your feet and slowly grows throughout the rest of your body.

“and not to be fucking gross but you turn me on so fucking much. was watching you eat my food last week and got so fucking hard just looking at you. you’re so elegant and sexy with everything you do. i look at you and feel so fucking lucky to have been part of your life.”

you clench your jaw in an attempt to block yourself from breaking out into a sob

“i can’t put it into words, y/n but, no matter what stage we’re at, i’m always gonna be so fucking attracted to you. stretchmarks and loose skin—i literally can’t bring myself to give a fuck. i don’t care what size you are or if if you’re bigger than you were at 18. isn’t that normal? you carried a baby for nearly a year. so what if you weigh more now? whatever. more to love.”

….

oh.

okay.

and that’s

how you

start tearing up

your heart feels like its been shattered into a million pieces

and it’s yoongi who is holding the level 100 5 star sledgehammer weapon

but it’s also yoongi who has unlocked the ultra healing magic buff

“it must have been so hard for you.” he slowly turns onto his back too, allowing you to look at the side of his face. “i’m sorry for not taking all of it into consideration. in my defense, i’ve always thought you were perfect.”

you sniff quietly and bring your hand up to wipe your cheeks. you shake your head. “don’t apologize. please.”

it’s quiet again and he continues to stare at the ceiling in silence

“i just wish you would have been comfortable enough to tell me.”

and you wish that too

but it’s embarrassing

and humiliating to even think about, let alone trust someone else with it

he finally turns onto his side to face you. “i really do mean it when i say you’re the most beautiful woman,” he pauses, “until we have a daughter. then she’s gonna be the most beautiful cause she’ll look like me.”

a soft giggle escapes you as he jokes, welcoming it with open arms

you look up at him, eyes glued to the small smile on his lips

“i’m so sorry, yoongi.”

“i know you are. i am too.”

“are you mad?”

he thinks about his answer for a moment. “i was at first. thought i was gonna smash my car with my bare fists.” he nods. “but i don’t think it’d be right for me to be mad at you for struggling so much with something i failed to see. i guess i’m just..” he sighs. “upset about the whole thing. it could’ve been avoided.”

you sniff quietly. “how? how was i supposed to tell you i just wanted to enjoy more time with you when it was me that forced the divorce down your throat? it wouldn’t be fair, not to you.”

how are you supposed to tell the man you forcibly kicked out that you weren’t ready to let go of him?

he rubs his forehead. “why did we ever let it get that far?”

you stay quiet

sniff again

wipe your nose and wet cheeks

“because i was selfish and childish. i wanted you to chase me and convince me that i only belonged to you.” it feels good to finally speak honestly. “i suppose you were done playing those games.”

“why were you still playing those? i thought we could be adults so many years into our marriage.”

“because,” you start, “i was bored. i didn’t do anything. i was home constantly, i didn’t go out. i didn’t have shit to do. you were barely home,” you say shakily, trying to swallow down the sob that’s threatening to spill

“just wanted to feel something whenever you showed up but i was just…” you sniff again. “…so mad at you for leaving me lonely that instead of trying to fix things, i wanted to piss you off. make you mad. make you feel the way i felt.”

it’s quiet

you try to stop yourself from sobbing quietly but to no avail

“so long story short, you started shoving divorce papers down my throat in hopes i’d chase you and just say fuck you to my responsibility as your husband and jun’s father to make sure we had food on the table.”

well

you don’t even really respond to that

because isn’t that basically what happened?

yes, sure, you were bored

but yoongi’s feelings shouldn’t have been messed with

he doesn’t say much else

just turns his back to you again and says,

“let’s sleep.”

and you try.

even though it’s nearly impossible with that agitating knife that’s nestled in your heart.

to be continued

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tainsan · 6 months

Text

misfits XII

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: kiss scene :O, mentions of suicide, swearing, anxiety

⇥ word count: 14.1k

⇥ a/n: i'm sorry for my poor updating schedule, ive been going through some things at home and also a major burnt out. i hope you can understand and thank you to all those who are still excited for the new chapters :)

⇢ masterlist ⇠

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--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ---

Just as you finish hanging up the final clothing piece into your closet, you take a moment to truly appreciate the full cupboard, never having seen your closet this full before. At that moment you realise you still need to buy undergarments, forgetting it completely at the shopping mall. Perhaps you can go with Jisung, then you also have a chance to talk to him and tell him how everything went. All of a sudden a soft aroma of garlic and herbs wafts through the air, filling up your room with a comforting embrace.

Yunho, his sleeves rolled up, moves gracefully around the kitchen, the familiar dance of cooking a symphony he knew by heart. Pots clinked, knives whispered against cutting boards, and the sizzle of food met the occasional hum of a tune he hummed to himself. Today, however, was different. Today, the melody of his culinary creations carried a silent promise, a melody meant only for you.

Meanwhile, in your room, you find yourself lost in thought, your mind wandering about how on earth you are going to break the news to Jisung, without him breaking the sound barrier with his scream. Yet, the delicious smell of food snaps you out of your deep thoughts.

The minutes tick by and you find yourself becoming increasingly curious of what is being made in the kitchen. The tantalising aroma was difficult to ignore, its invisible tendrils weaving a spell that beckons you towards the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, you finally venture out of your room, your gaze immediately drawn to the source of the mouth watering scent. There Yunho is focused and intent, his fingers moving with a practised ease as he deftly tosses the food in a pan.

Your steps carry a hint of caution, yet your curiosity prevails. You find yourself standing at the threshold of the kitchen, positioned right at the juncture of the three rooms that belong to you, Seonghwa, and Yunho. There, you observe Yunho with a sense of reverence, quietly taking in his presence and actions. Just then he looks up, and the surprise that paints his features is quickly replaced by a warm, genuine smile.

"Hey," he greets, the hum of the stove momentarily forgotten.

"Hey," you reply, unable to keep the smile from tugging at your lips.

Yunho quickly turns off the stove and walks toward you, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "I hope you're hungry."

Titling your head, you are confused by his words, a question forming in your eyes. "Hungry for...?"

Yunho chuckles, a deep, melodious, beautiful sound that resonates within you. "Hungry for your favourite. The one meal I… refused to give you on your first night here." You notice the way Yunho cringes at himself, remembering the incident.

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise, the realisation sinks in. "Wait, you're making it again?"

He nodded, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Yes, a peace offering, if you will."

Your heart swells, the gesture touching you deeply. "Yunho, you really don't have to,"

He delicately places a finger over your lips, effectively silencing any protests that might have arisen. In that moment, Yunho briefly brushes aside the sensation of your soft lips beneath his touch, focusing on his intent.

"I want to," he insists gently, his words carrying a weight of sincerity. The fleeting awareness of the texture of your lips doesn't escape him, but he remains steadfast in his purpose. "Besides," he continues, his expression earnest, "I figured I owe you this. It was a huge dickhead move."

His gesture sends your heart into a rapid rhythm, the gentle touch of his fingers against your lips igniting a flutter of butterflies that seems to take flight throughout your entire body. The sensation is electrifying, a mixture of excitement and nervousness that courses through your veins. In that fleeting moment, his touch holds a power to evoke emotions you hadn't anticipated, leaving you momentarily breathless and utterly captivated.

Gazing into his eyes, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the delicious aroma enveloping them. "I agree,” you laugh out before continuing, “thank you, Yunho."

Yunho's regret for his past actions becomes increasingly evident, a shadow that lingers in his eyes as he interacts with you. His earnest attempts to amend his past mistakes are palpable, and he dedicates himself to making things right and extending a heartfelt apology. You're not blind to his efforts, each gesture and word reflecting his determination to bridge the gap between you. His commitment doesn't go unnoticed by you; you see through the genuine sincerity in his actions.

The appreciation you feel is profound, as you recognize the depth of his remorse and his sincere desire to mend the bond that was strained. His willingness to take responsibility and make amends speaks volumes about the value he places on your connection, and you're moved by his unwavering dedication to repairing what was once broken.

“You know… I never hated you.” Yunho admits, with a sorrowful expression on his face, “I wanted to talk with you, I was going to wait a little longer but I just needed you to know.”

“What do you mean? I'm fairly certain you would feed me to a pool of starving piranhas.” You reply, a joking undertone to your words.

Sighing, Yunho runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head, his expression pained. "Back in high school… I thought you had left because you believed the rumours, even though the night before you said you would help. I was wrong about you. I didn't want to let anyone in again. I didn't want to get close to someone just to have them hurt us again."

You nod in understanding, remembering how guarded Yunho used to be. "I get it. You had your reasons for being cautious."

Yunho's eyes meet yours, and they're filled with regret, as he speaks his voice cracks, "I never knew the real reason. I had no idea you were dealing with so much pain, that you were grieving for your mother and brother. And I didn't even bother to ask. I judged you without knowing anything about your situation."

His words hang in the air for a moment. You can see the depth of his regret, and it's clear that he's carrying a heavy burden of guilt.

“Yunho,” you call the man's name, seeing he is starting to get slightly restless, “it’s okay. Like you said, the mind is a powerful thing. I don't blame you for thinking like that. I am so sorry, when my mom died I should've found you guys,”

“No, no. It is not your fault, tiny.” Yunho exclaims, moving closer to you, “we should have done better, I should have done better.”

“I understand you were hurt.”

“That doesn't validate my behaviour,”

With a delicate touch, the taller man's hands find their place on your face, his palms cradling your cheeks with a tenderness that's both reassuring and profound. The gentle pressure prompts you to lift your gaze, locking eyes with him.

The emotions that swim within his gaze are more intense than you've ever witnessed before; sincere, affectionate, and raw. They mirror the same love and intensity you remember from years ago, as if time hasn't dulled the depth of his feelings. In that moment, his embrace has a tangible effect on you, causing a gentle quiver in your knees.

The vulnerability and closeness shared between you create a connection that's both soothing and electrifying, a reminder of the powerful emotions that have always existed between you two.

Yunho's gaze turns tender as he looks at you, his tears now flowing freely. "I realised after the one trip to the store for your moisturiser, that I care about you a lot more than I let myself believe. I was so scared of letting someone in, of getting close to someone again, that I pushed you away."

Your heart aches at his vulnerability and his raw emotions. "Yunho..."

He interrupts you gently, his voice quivering, "Let me finish. I just… it’s eating me alive."

Yunho's voice trembles as he struggles to maintain eye contact, his emotions finally spilling out after years of being buried deep within him.

"All these years I was trying to find an excuse to hate you, to get you out of my mind but I just couldn’ t. I... I had finally started to open up to you," he begins, his words coming out in a shaky, broken cadence. "But then we ran into Danny at the store, and it just... it ruined everything." Yunho's voice cracks, and he takes a deep, ragged breath to steady himself.

You can see the pain etched on his face as he continues, his words laden with regret and sorrow. "Just as I allowed myself to open to you, I felt like I was losing you all over again. You didn't come home for a week, and I thought... I thought everything from four years ago was happening again.”

His admission is raw and vulnerable, and it tugs at your heart. You reach out and gently place a hand on his, offering support and understanding.

"Yunho," you say softly, your voice filled with empathy. "I had no idea how my absence was affecting you, and I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. I’m so sorry for putting you through this."

“It’s not your fault, tiny.” Yunho’s voice trembles as he speaks, “I… have this horrible vision in my head everytime I close my eyes. You on that rooftop breaking into pieces when we said we would be there for you. Fuck, I should’ve stayed and looked for you.”

Yunho looks at you with tears falling out of his eyes, and his grip on your hand tightens as if he's afraid you'll slip away once more. "I should have trusted you, believed in you. And I should have told you how I felt."

You squeeze his hand reassuringly, tears also starting to well up in your eyes. "Yunho, we can't change the past, but we can learn from it and move forward together. I want you to know that I care about you deeply, and I appreciate your honesty now."

A glimmer of hope flickers in Yunho's eyes as he meets your gaze. "Really?"

You offer him a warm, genuine smile. "Yes, really. I don't want you to feel like you have to hide your feelings anymore. We can work through this together. Get that vision out of your head, I’m here now that's all that matters."

Yunho visibly relaxes, and he lets out a sigh of relief. "Thank you for understanding and for forgiving me. I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Yunho," you murmur his name, the single syllable carrying a weight of emotion and longing. Tears fall out of your own eyes as you listen to his words, your emotions becoming far too much to bottle up. The intensity of the eye contact between you both only amplifies the effect, causing a gentle quiver to run through your legs, threatening to make your knees buckle under the weight of the moment. The connection you share in this instant feels almost overwhelming, as if the unspoken emotions between you are echoing in the space between your gazes.

Yunho inches closer, the charged atmosphere between you and Yunho creates a palpable tension that seems to envelop the space around you. Both of you are on the brink of something electrifying, drawn by an irresistible pull that transcends words. The world around you fades into the background, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment.

His gaze locks onto yours, the intensity in his eyes mirroring the depth of the emotions swirling within you. It seems as if your breaths synchronise, you feel the warmth of his proximity, a magnetic force that draws you closer and closer. It's as if time has stopped completely, allowing you to savour every heartbeat, every heartbeat that echoes the anticipation in your chest.

The space between your lips narrows, the distance between you diminishing with each heartbeat. The air feels charged with an almost tangible energy, and you can practically taste the closeness as your eyelashes brush against his skin. Every cell in your body seems attuned to his presence, and your heart races in response to the intimate connection that's about to be forged.

Just as your lips are about to meet in a moment of breathtaking intimacy, a sudden interruption fractures the enchanting spell that had woven around you. Jongho's voice breaks through the charged atmosphere, his innocent question about dinner piercing through the cocoon of intimacy you had created.

“Hey, when's dinner gonna be ready?"

The moment shatters, and the almost-kiss dissipates like mist in the wind as both you and Yunho jump away from each other, shocked by the sudden intrusion to your tender moment. Both you and Yunho are left suspended in the aftermath of what could have been. The emotions that had built up still linger, leaving you both with a sense of longing and a mixture of amusement at the unforeseen interruption.

Despite the interruption, the lingering tension and the unspoken emotions continue to reverberate between you two. The memory of that suspended moment remains etched in your mind, a testament to the unspoken bond that connects you and Yunho.

“Uh…” Yunho clears his throat as he rests against the counter, trying to regain his composure. Yet, the red faced, jittery expression he wears is a clear indicator for what might have been transpiring before Jongho entered the room, and he momentarily feels awfully guilty for stepping in on your moment. “It’ll be ready in about ten minutes.”

Yunho wipes his eyes and returns to his cooking duties, the clatter of utensils and the sizzle of ingredients filling the space as he carries on with the task at hand. Meanwhile, you opt to take a seat at the kitchen island, positioning yourself so that you have a clear view of him. Your gaze remains on him, watching his every move, the tension between you both still lingering in the air like an unspoken secret.

The intense atmosphere persists, the electricity of the almost-kiss still crackling beneath the surface. It's a noticeable presence, a reminder of the emotions that had surged between you just moments ago. Yet, despite the lingering tension, you make a conscious decision to tuck it away for now.

There is something intimate about watching Yunho work, a kind of vulnerability in seeing someone so capable and confident letting his guard down in the space you share.

Time seems to blur as you talk, about everything and nothing. He shares stories of his experiments in the kitchen, his culinary triumphs and disasters, causing an eruption of giggles to emit from you.

The story of him trying to cook pasta without water makes you almost topple over from your chair at the island, another wave of laughs erupting when you see the playfully offended look on his features.

“I had never cooked before!” Yunho exclaims, pointing a spatula at you, a pout evident on his features.

“I thought it was common sense to cook pasta in water?” You say, wiping away the tears from your eyes, “did you just put it in a frying pan with oil or something?”

“Yes?” Yunho admits, laughing at himself along with you.

"Actually," he begins as he gives you a small spoonful of the pasta sauce to taste, a twinkle in his eyes, "I used to cook for the guys a lot before we came here. They were my first official taste testers."

You grin as you take the spoon of the creamy sauce in your hand, "So, I'm guessing you've had plenty of practice."

“They have seen my best and worst meals, Wooyoung, Seonghwa and I cook a lot now,” he says, a tender expression on his face “but today is different. Today, this meal is just for you."

You put the spoon into your mouth, and it is a work of art, the flavours exploding on your taste buds like a symphony of tastes you can never get enough of.

"Is it good?" he asks, his gaze fixed on your reaction.

All you manage is a frantic nod, unable to speak as you savour the dish. When you finally find your voice, you look up at him with appreciation. "Yunho, this is amazing."

He chuckles, relieved by your response. "I'm glad you like it.”

With your fork suspended mid-air, you study Yunho closely. "You didn't have to do this, you know? But I'm really glad you did."

Leaning back against the counter, Yunho’s expression softens, a smile spreading across his features. "I know, but I wanted to. I wanted to make it up to you."

Putting your fork down, your eyes meet his. "You already did."

Yunho grins, a genuine, heartfelt expression that makes your heart flutter. "Good."

“I’ll call the boys to get down,” you say, standing up from your chair.

“___, wait,” Yunho calls out from his place behind the stove.

Turning to him, you raise your eyebrow gently, silently asking him to continue.

“Thank you.” Is all he says, “for accepting me.”

“Likewise, Yu.”

—

Finishing the meal amongst the eight men, the laughter filling the house, the conversations flowing effortlessly makes you feel alive. As the evening sun casts a gentle glow through the dining room windows, you realise that this simple meal was more than just food. It was a symbol of friendship, love, of understanding, and of a connection that has only grown stronger.

Now, the late-night hours cast a quiet stillness over your room, illuminated only by the soft glow of your desk lamp. The steady hum of your laptop fan provides a rhythmic backdrop as you focus on the assignment your professor had sprung upon you unexpectedly.

But despite your determined efforts, your mind remains ensnared by a web of thoughts, every keystroke a struggle against the memories of the almost-kiss shared with Yunho earlier in the kitchen. Your fingers dance across the keyboard, forming sentences and paragraphs, but your mind keeps drifting back to the intense atmosphere that had enveloped you both. The vivid recollection of his gaze locked onto yours, the almost-touch of your lips, and the way time had seemed to stand still, it's all etched into your mind like an indelible mark.

The cursor blinks on your screen, waiting for words that elude you. Your thoughts are a swirl of sensations, the memory of his proximity evoking an electric shiver that refuses to be ignored. You imagine what could have been if Jongho hadn't walked in, your mind painting vivid scenarios of a kiss that never happened. The tempting "what if" lingers like an unfinished melody, taunting you with unexplored possibilities.

A sudden, daring thought tugs at your consciousness, the idea of seeking out Yunho, of finishing what was nearly initiated in the kitchen. Yet, the notion feels bold, an uncharted territory you're hesitant to traverse. Your fingers hover above the keyboard, caught between caution and longing, your heart pounding in your chest. You don't want to come off as needy or pushy. You remind yourself that he likes you, yet it seems like you would be pushing an unspoken boundary set by yourself.

Frustration simmers, the assignment all but forgotten as your desire for resolution intensifies. Unable to bear the confines of your room any longer, you push away your laptop, rising from your seat with a mix of determination and trepidation.

The hallway outside your room offers a breath of fresh air, a fleeting relief from the weight of your thoughts. But just as you take a few steps, fate intervenes – Yunho emerges from his own room, swinging the door open with a determined force. Suddenly, the corridor feels an awful lot smaller, the tension that had driven you out now amplified in his very presence.

“Yunho,” his name slips from your lips like a whisper, laced with longing and vulnerability. The shared tension is palpable, the intense air heavy with unspoken emotions that hang between you. Your call for his name was all he needed to hear, the longing undertone obvious in your voice.

Yunho's response is almost instinctual, his strides purposeful as he bridges the distance between you. There's a shared understanding in his eyes, an acknowledgment of the shared longing that has brought you both to this moment. His hands reach for your face, his touch gentle yet tinged with urgency, and the next instant, his lips crash onto yours.

The collision of your mouths is an uncontainable release of the emotions that have been building, a fervent union that's both messy and desperate. Your back meets the wall with a soft thud, the sensation distant against the fervour of the kiss. His lips move against yours with a fierce tenderness, each touch a testament to the emotions that have long been simmering beneath the surface. It's a kiss that speaks of longing, desire, and unspoken words, a passionate confession of everything that words can't convey. In this shared moment, you both explore what could have been, pouring the unvoiced feelings into this raw and unfiltered connection. The kiss, messy yet loving, has brought you to the precipice of something uncharted and thrilling.

In a bold and decisive move, Yunho's lips remain locked onto yours as he gently pushes your body backward. The transition from the corridor to your room is seamless, his movements confident and calculated, as if he's familiar with every nook and cranny. His lips stay connected to yours, the kiss deepening in intensity, a passionate exchange that leaves no room for hesitation.

With a practised finesse, he navigates your room as if it were his own domain. His hands, once cradling your face, now slide down your arms, his touch electric against your skin. The door clicks shut behind you, leaving the outside world behind and creating a cocoon of shared desire within the confines of your room. Yunho's skillful manoeuvres paint a vivid picture of his determination and longing. It's as if he's been waiting for this moment, seizing it with a confidence that matches the unspoken emotions that have been building between you.

Guiding you further into your room, his lips never leaving yours, the air is heavy with electricity, the intensity of your connection noticeable. The sensations of his touch, the taste of his kiss, and the intoxicating feeling of his presence leave you both breathless and wanting more.

When you feel the edge of your bed hit the back of your calves, a slight stumble causes your balance to waver. Seizing the moment, Yunho's quick reflexes come into play. His strong arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer to him with a reassuring strength. In an effortless display of his capabilities, he lifts you up, your feet momentarily leaving the ground.

His actions are seamless and purposeful, his movements confident as he turns the two of you around. Before you know it, you're being lowered onto your bed, the softness of the mattress cushioning your fall. With a gentle yet firm touch, he guides you to rest atop him, your bodies now intimately aligned as you now lay to straddle his waist, your chest pressed flat against his.

The weight of your bodies pressed together is both comforting and electrifying, a tangible representation of the connection you share. Yunho's presence beneath you is a witness to his desire and the unspoken emotions that have been simmering between you.

Yunho's lips stay against yours, a rhythmic and intoxicating movement that ignites a surge of sensations. His kiss is accompanied by a daring exploration, as his tongue gently presses at the barrier of your lips. The moment you grant him access, the kiss transforms, deepening in both passion and intimacy. It's as if the floodgates have opened, allowing a torrent of emotions to surge between you, each touch of your lips amplifying the intensity of your shared desire.

The world beyond your room becomes a distant echo, the insignificance of the outside fading into oblivion. The entirety of your focus is now on this moment, on the sensations that ripple through your body with every brush of his lips.

Yunho's embrace remains tight, his arms encircling you in a cocoon of warmth and desire. One arm secures your lower waist, drawing you closer to him, while the other curves around your upper back. His hand anchors you at the nape of your neck, a touch that's both possessive and tender, as if he's afraid you might slip away from him.

In a swift yet graceful motion, Yunho once again shifts your positions. The world tilts and adjusts as he manoeuvres, and now he rests nestled between your legs, your back against the bed. The shift in your arrangement only serves to fuel the fire between you. The kiss becomes more fervent, igniting a blaze that courses through your veins, warming every inch of your body with an undeniable desire.

With every brush of his lips and every touch of his travelling hands, the intimacy deepens, and the connection between you two intensifies. It's a moment that transcends words, a silent conversation of longing and need that finds its expression in the press of your bodies and the rush of your kisses. In this stolen moment, you're both suspended in the midst of a passion that's both tender and consuming, aching to explore every corner of the uncharted territory that you were so scared of.

Time becomes an abstract concept, as minutes slip away unnoticed in the embrace of shared desire and pining. The sensation of Yunho's lips moving against yours, the taste of him, the heat of his body pressed against yours, it's as if the world outside your room ceases to exist. In this intimate space, the only thing that matters is the sensation of being wrapped up in each other, the only thing that matters is Yunho

Every touch, every stolen kiss, is evidence to the unspoken connection that binds you together. The taste of him on your lips is like a drug, an intoxicating elixir that you can't help but crave more of. The press of his body against yours ignites a fire that burns with an intensity you've never experienced before. It's as if all you need, all you want, is right here in this moment, in his arms.

With each passing second, you find yourself falling deeper into the abyss of your own desires. The taste of him, the intensity of his kisses, and the press of his body against yours create a symphony of sensations that you're powerless to resist. The feelings that swirl within you are a heady mixture of longing, lust, and possessiveness – emotions that take root and refuse to let go.

When his large hands slip slightly beneath your shorts, their warm touch against your skin sends a shiver down your spine. The sensation of his large hands massaging your hips lovingly creates a surge of desire that's almost overwhelming in its intensity. The sudden rush of lust catches you off guard, and a twinge of fear flits through your thoughts. What if you aren't good enough?

The sudden tenseness in your body doesn't go unnoticed by Yunho, as his lips part from yours, concern etching itself across his features. The sudden shift from intense desire to a cautious distance creates a palpable shift in the atmosphere.

“I am so sorry, did I go too far?” His worry is reflected in his gaze, and his question hangs in the air like a delicate thread, waiting for your response.

Your thoughts are a whirlwind, emotions swirling within you, and the weight of his question settles heavily on your shoulders. As you gaze into his eyes, you find yourself at a crossroads, torn between the yearning you feel and the need to address your own reservations.

“No, it’s not that.” You begin, and you see the man above you relax slightly, “I haven't really done anything like this in a while.” you hesitate in your words, “Seonghwa and I kissed yesterday…” you watch carefully for Yunho’s reaction as you admit what transpired yesterday between you and his older friend, however when Yunho stays calm, only a reassuring smile on his features, you realise he doesn't mind you kissed Seonghwa, so you continue, “I haven’t really done anything like this in a long time, let alone with this many emotions, it's a little new to me.”

Yunho lets your admission render in his brain, as he thinks of an adequate response.

“It’s okay, tiny. We don't have to do anything.” Yunho says, bringing his hand up to brush away a stray hair from your face. “I’m happy to just be here with you.”

“Can we maybe…” you begin, not quite having the confidence to voice your wishes.

“Go ahead, I won't judge you.”

“Can we just lay here, with each other?” you question, feeling an intense heat travelling up your neck, “and kiss a little?”

“You want to kiss me?” a playful smile tugs at the corner of Yunho's lips as he teases you, his fingers gently pinching your cheek. His touch is light, yet it carries a spark of mischief that's mirrored in his eyes. The delicate pinch elicits the most adorable reaction Yunho could imagine, your cheeks puffing out in embarrassment, a gesture that has Yunho’s belly blowing up with butterflies.

Caught between his teasing and your own bashfulness, you can't help but hide your face in your hands, seeking refuge from the playful banter. A soft laugh escapes his lips, the sound a warm melody that dances through the air.

The atmosphere shifts from intense desire to a lighter, more lighthearted mood, as his teasing draws out your natural charm.

“Of course we can, tiny. Warning you though, I might fall asleep.” Yunho responds before laying his head on your chest, hugging your side tightly.

Yunho's form cuddles into your side, a sense of disbelief washes over you. The events of the night feel like a dream, a surreal turn of events that you could never have predicted. The contrast between the man who was once distant and rude to you and the person now nuzzling against you is staggering, leaving you in a state of wonderment.

His presence, warm and comforting, feels almost too good to be true. The way he holds you close, like a puppy seeking comfort, is a stark difference from the impression he had initially left. It's a transformation that you can't quite wrap your mind around, leaving you in awe of the complexity of human nature and the potential for change.

As you lay side by side, the weight of the night's events lingers in the air, mingling with the comfort of his embrace. The stark difference between his previous demeanour and the person he is now raises questions in your mind. Could the others have hidden depths as well? Could they, too, harbour hidden facets of their personalities that have yet to be uncovered?

The intimacy and vulnerability you've shared with Yunho have opened up a world of possibilities. The walls that once separated you from each other have crumbled, revealing a new layer of understanding and connection. In this moment of quiet reflection, you can't help but wonder what other surprises await, both from Yunho and the others who share your living space.

Yunho's gentle breathing against your side indicates that he's gradually drifting into sleep, finding solace in your presence. As you bask in the quiet comfort of the moment, the sudden ding of your phone startles you. You instinctively reach for the device on your bedside table, your movements careful so as not to disturb the slumbering man beside you.

With your phone in hand, you illuminate the screen to reveal the new text message. As your eyes scan the words, a mixture of shock and apprehension washes over you, sending a shiver down your spine. The message contains something that leaves you both shaken and concerned, and you can't help but feel a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach as you read over the cryptic words.

‘Have fun with my boys. It won't last long. <;8’

The morning sun peeks through your curtains, a cascade of soft, golden light floods your room. You inhale deeply, savouring the warm aroma of the dawn, as you snuggle in the embrace of your fresh, crisp bed sheets. The faint melody of chirping birds reaches your ears through the open window, their songs leaving you with a sense of calmness. Meanwhile, the gentle caress of the cool breeze sends delightful shivers cascading down your skin, awakening every nerve, leaving goosebumps upon your skin. It took you very long to fall asleep last night, the cryptic message you received replaying in your mind.

It takes a fleeting moment to regain your bearings, and the chill from the open window prompts you to cuddle even deeper into your warmth of sheets. Yet, your efforts are briefly halted as you sense the comforting presence of another person beside you, an arm enveloping your torso in a secure embrace.

Turning your gaze to the unexpected warmth, you're momentarily taken aback. However, a wave of relaxation washes over you as you discover Yunho's relaxed sleeping image just inches from your face.

His face bears a slight puffiness, his lips softly parted, and his cheeks adorned with a gentle, rosy hue. His tousled hair covers his forehead, pointing in many directions, the image causes a fond smile to grace your lips.

At this moment, you still find yourself struggling to fully comprehend the sudden shift in his demeanour. You are most definitely not unhappy with his change, yet you do realise it will take some getting used to.

Staring at Yunho for a few moments longer, it suddenly occurs to you that you must get up and ready for school, Yunho, and the strange message temporarily leaves your thoughts. You make a cautious attempt to extricate yourself from the slumbering presence beside you, but as you shift, he stirs in his sleep, responding by drawing you even closer, nuzzling his nose into the curve of your neck.

In a soft, raspy voice, Yunho murmurs, "Don't go yet," sending a flurry of butterflies swirling through your stomach. His face remains nestled against your neck, his breath fanning your skin, causing goosebumps to rise up your neck.

“I have to get ready,” You attempt to say, trying to ignore the way his raspy voice sends shivers down your spine.

“Please stay.” Yunho mumbles and you can almost feel the pout upon his lips.

“I have to, Yunho.” You say, holding in a fond giggle as you see him desperately tug onto you.

“Okay,” he mumbles, the pout on his face increasing as he turns around fully, grumbling into the pillows. A soft laugh escapes your lips as you tenderly ruffle his hair, and with a lingering glance, you reluctantly leave the room, making your way to the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen, your eyes lock onto Wooyoung, and a pleasant surprise lights up your face. Normally not an early riser, spotting Wooyoung in the morning brings an immediate smile to your lips. Beside him stands Jongho, whose presence you had anticipated. They engage in a lively conversation, genuine smiles gracing their features.

You take a moment to observe the pair, noting the relaxed way they chuckle together, the tender glances they exchange, and how their bodies naturally gravitate towards each other. It's a sight that warms your heart.

You realise that you haven't had a proper chance to talk with Jongho since he approached you at school to settle the conflict with your eight roommates. As you approach them, your heart quickens at the way their faces light up upon noticing you.

Jongho's voice, soft and affectionate, calls out your name, leaving no doubt about the warmth of his feelings.

“Where are you off to? I thought your lessons started in the afternoon?” Wooyoung asks, and for some reason you sense a trace of sadness in his tone, you aren't sure as to why it is there.

“I’m going to see Jisung, we want to have breakfast together.” You reply, sending a curious look in Wooyoung's direction, to which he avoids eye contact and immediately looks away from you, playing with the mug in front of him, causing your curiosity to further intensify. Looking over at Jongho, you notice he also has a trace of curiosity lining his features.

“No breakfast with us today?” Jongho asks, a joking pout upon his lips.

“Not today, I’m sorry.” you answer, offering him a warm smile to which Jongho seems to take well.

You head to the refrigerator, retrieving a bottle of water, all the while keeping an eye on Wooyoung. His unusual quietness doesn't escape your notice; he appears deeply engrossed in his mug, his typical remarks conspicuously absent. It leaves a noticeable void in the atmosphere, and concern gnaws at you, wondering what might be weighing on his mind and making the space feel somewhat strange.

Just as you muster the courage to inquire about what might be bothering Wooyoung, he abruptly rises from his seat and strides toward the room's exit, heading upstairs. A rush of unease and apprehension washes over you, leaving you feeling suddenly upset and anxious about the abrupt change in his demeanour. For a fleeting moment, you think that you might be the cause, given that he had been perfectly fine just moments before you entered the room.

In response to your unspoken worries, Jongho speaks up, his voice tinged with a touch of concern. "He's fine, ____," he reassures you. "Don't worry."

With a subtle nod, you retreat back into your room, your heart pounding with an unsettling intensity. Fear creeps under your skin like an unwelcome guest. Does Wooyoung no longer have feelings for you? Was his previous confession a mistake? You stand there, facing the closed door, locked in a battle of uncertainty, wondering if you should muster the courage to return and seek answers, all the while grappling with the unsettling unease that has wrapped around you.

The abrupt interruption of your thoughts by your ringing phone startles you. You hastily glance at your bedside table, realising it's responsible for stirring the sleeping giant in your bed, Yunho. For a moment, you'd forgotten he was still there, and you can't help but chuckle at the sight of him, cozied up to one of your stuffed toys. It appears that Yunho is quite the cuddlebug.

Rushing over to your phone, you fumble to silence the ringing, determined not to rouse the slumbering man beside you. As you answer, it's Jisung's voice that greets you on the other end of the line.

"Hey, Ji, what's up?" you whisper, trying to keep your voice low.

"Hey! Why are you whispering?" Jisung's curiosity cuts through the speakers, tinged with a hint of excitement.

You attempt to offer a nonchalant response, although you're not particularly skilled at lying. "No reason, it's just early."

"Okay… we're still meeting in an hour, right?" Jisung inquires, thankfully not probing further into your behaviour.

"Yeah, I just need to shower quickly," you assure him.

"Alright, see you in a bit!" Jisung quickly hangs up, and you can't help but smile at his somewhat chaotic nature.

With your phone now silent, you turn your attention back to the peacefully sleeping Yunho, who seems to have settled even more comfortably with your stuffed toy. You can't help but admire his endearing cuddly side, a stark contrast to the confident and mature persona he often displays. With a warm smile on your face, you prepare to get ready to see Jisung.

Strolling down the pebbled path, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps crunching under the stones echoes softly in the serene surroundings. Your eyes scan the familiar landscape until they land on your best friend, nestled beneath the sprawling canopy of a large blossoming tree. He is deeply engrossed in his notebook, pen dancing across the pages as he pours his thoughts into words. It was a familiar sight, your friend lost in the world of his creativity, likely penning lyrics for another one of his songs.

You had always held a deep appreciation for his creative side. His lyrics and melodies had an uncanny ability to resonate with you, often touching the chords of your own emotions. Each song he crafts is like a piece of his soul laid bare, and you are fortunate to be one of the few who could witness the birth of these lyrical masterpieces. You are then reminded of Mingi and his own creativity. Mingi and Jisung would definitely get along.

Approaching quietly so as not to disrupt his flow, you watch him for a moment. The rays of sunlight filtering through the blossoms above cast gentle patterns of light and shadow over him, accentuating the intent look on his face. His fingers tapping the notebook rhythmically as if coaxing the words from his heart.

Your heart swells with pride for your friend's artistic talents. It was moments like these, witnessing his creative process, that reminded you of the depth of your bond. As he continues to write, you can’t help but smile.

"Hey Ji," you say softly, now standing close enough for him to notice your presence beneath the blossoming tree.

Jisung's head shoots up from his notebook, surprise flickering across his face before breaking into a wide grin.

"Hey!" He closes the notebook and sets it aside, inviting you to join him in the small patch of shade beneath the tree.

You ease yourself onto the ground beside him, the grass feeling cool and inviting. The delicate scent of blossoms fills the air, and you inhale deeply, savouring the moment.

"What's the inspiration today?" you ask, gesturing to his notebook.

Jisung's eyes twinkle with excitement as he leans in closer, as though sharing a secret.

"I've been thinking about that road trip we took last summer, you know, the one to the coast? The waves crashing against the shore, the salt in the air… It's all coming together in my mind."

Your heart flutters with nostalgia at the mention of that memorable journey. You notice Jisung is in a sentimental mood, like he is most of the time when he writes, causing you to feel yourself falling into the same mood. It has always been alien to you how much your and Jisung’s moods can mirror each other.

"I remember it very well," you say, a soft smile playing on your lips. "That sunset was insane.”

Jisung questions you, his eyes wide and sparkling, “what was your favourite part? I need more inspiration.”

You ponder on your thoughts, recalling the trip, “probably when we had that huge bonfire, and you were determined to roast marshmallows, but the fire was way too wild and you almost burnt off your eyebrows.”

Jisung lets out a loud laugh, remembering the scene as if it was yesterday.

You continue, “the smell of the sea, the fresh air. The feeling of freedom...”

Jisung's gaze softens as he gazes at you, his eyes filled with gratitude.

"Exactly, ____," he whispers. "Those moments, those feelings, nostalgia and feeling free. They're all part of this song."

You can't help but feel touched by his words. It's as if he has a unique ability to capture the emotions and shared experiences and make them into melodies.

"Well I’m very grateful you love me so much to make a song out of it,” Jisung chuckles before nudging your shoulder with his own. You continue talking, “your songs have a way of making memories even more special," you tell him.

He laughs modestly, running his hand through his hair. "I guess I have a good way of turning what I feel into words."

“That's what makes you special.”

The two of you sit in companionable silence for a moment, taking in the serenity of the blossoming tree and the memories it holds. It's a place you both frequently visit, a spot of quiet reflection amidst the hustle and bustle of life. The tree’s delicate petals dance in the breeze

Jisung offers you a warm smile as he passes you a croissant. Jisung had brought a small picnic with him, a collection of your favourite snacks and a thermos of hot coffee to ward off the slight chill in the air. The two of you used to do this all the time when you first started this school. The story of your friendship with Jisung traced its origins back to the very first day of university, a day etched in your memory for its mix of confusion and chance.

It had been a chaotic morning. You were a wide-eyed freshman, clutching a stack of textbooks and notebooks to your chest like a lifeline. The huge university campus had felt like a labyrinth, and you had no idea where to find your first class. In your quest for the dean's office, where you hoped to get directions, you navigated through a sea of students, your nerves escalating with every passing minute.

Jisung, on the other hand, had always been something of a whirlwind. He had a tendency to be lost in thought, even while navigating the bustling campus. On that fateful morning, his mind had been consumed by thoughts of class schedules, room numbers, and the whirlwind of university life, along with the gentle hum of music through his headphones.

And so, it happened. You both collided in the weirdest way. You, with your arms full of books and your gaze locked on a campus map, didn't see him coming. Jisung, equally oblivious, was deep in thought, head buried in his own class schedule.

The impact was both comical and chaotic. Books scattered like confetti, your class notes tumbled to the ground, and Jisung's schedule ended up in a similar state of disarray.

For a moment, you both stared at each other, shocked and disoriented. Your books lay in a haphazard pile at your feet, and Jisung's papers fluttered around you like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind.

"I'm so sorry!" the blonde male manages to blurt out, scrambling to pick up his errant schedule. "I didn't see you there. Are you okay?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. "I think so. Are you okay?"

He flashed you a sheepish grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, just a bit scattered. First day jitters, you know?"

Both gathering your belongings, you realised that this stranger who had literally bumped into your life might be your saving grace on this bewildering first day.

"I'm actually looking for the dean's office," you admitted, your voice tinged with embarrassment. "I'm completely lost."

Jisung's expression brightens as he extends a hand to help you up. "No worries! I'm headed there, too. We can find it together."

From that moment, your friendship with Jisung began to take root. He became your guide through the maze-like university campus, showing you the ropes, introducing you to his group of friends which you found out they were all from the same highschool, and sharing in the ups and downs of the university journey.

The blossoms continued to fall around you, a reminder that even amidst the chaos and uncertainty of life, beautiful friendships could bloom from the most unexpected collisions.

"Isn't this place just magical?" Jisung exclaimed, his eyes scanning the pink and white canopy above. "I can't believe we're graduating this year."

You nodded, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. Graduation was indeed on the horizon, and it brought with it a mix of excitement and nostalgia. You cherished these moments with Jisung, knowing that they were soon to become cherished memories.

“You look better, ____. I’m glad the talk went well.” Jisung smiles at you and you recall the talk you had a few days ago. You feel grateful that Jisung doesn't pry for knowledge.

As you nibble on the croissant, you realise you owe your best friend an explanation of what happened, so you muster up the courage to speak about the topic that had been gnawing at you for a few days.

"Jisung," you began, your voice soft and hesitant, "there's something I need to talk to you about."

He turns to you, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "Of course, anything. You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Taking a deep breath, you decided to dive right in. "It's about the boys. They... they said they have feelings for me, romantic feelings."

The words hung in the air, and the rustling of leaves seemed to hush in anticipation. Jisung's gaze remained steady, his expression an anchor in the sea of emotions swirling within you. There is a visage of shock upon his features, yet he doesn't speak.

"They've all been so kind and caring," you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't deny that I've grown close to them, too."

Jisung nods slowly, processing your confession. "I see. That's quite a situation. But that also proves how awesome and lovable of a person you are."

You sigh, a mix of emotions welling up inside you. "I appreciate that, but... I'm scared, Jisung. Scared to give an answer. Scared of hurting them or losing the friendships we've built."

Jisung reaches out and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you in the moment. "It's natural to be afraid, especially when it involves the hearts of people you care about. But you can't let that fear paralyse you

You meet his gaze, finding comfort in his wisdom. "But what if I say yes and it ruins everything? What if I say no, and it still changes everything?"

Jisung chuckles softly, his voice carrying a sense of understanding. "Life is full of uncertainties, ____. But it's also full of opportunities for growth and love. You don't have to have all the answers now. Take your time, communicate openly with them, and trust that the bonds you've built can withstand these challenges."

Sipping your coffee, the warmth spreads through you, you can’t help but be grateful for Jisung's presence and wisdom. Jisung, always open and honest, begins to share his own experiences. He speaks about his own relationship, how it hasn’t always been perfect, but how it had thrived because both he and Minho were willing to work through the challenges.

"Love, whether it's romantic or platonic, requires effort," Jisung says, his voice gentle but firm. "It's about understanding, compromise, and a willingness to grow together. Sometimes, things get tough, but it's the willingness to work through those tough times that truly defines a relationship."

You listen intently, savouring his words. His insights shed light on the complexities of love and the importance of communication.

"As for the boys," Jisung continues, "they care about you deeply, and it's clear that you care about them, too. Take the time to understand your own feelings, communicate openly, and remember that love has a way of finding its own path."

"Thank you, Jisung. I knew you'd have the right advice."

He gives you a warm smile, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently. "That's what best friends are for, isn't it? Though I can’t say I'm not jealous."

“What are you saying?” You laugh, questioning his words.

“The Park Seonghwa likes you, along with all of them. They are very good looking.”

“That’s not the reason I like them, idiot. Their looks are just a huge bonus.”

“Okay, okay.”

A mischievous spark dances in your eyes as you decide to inject a playful twist into the conversation. "We kissed."

You delivered the words with a deadpan expression, your voice laced with just the right amount of nonchalance. It was a statement so out of context that you knew it would elicit a humorous reaction from your best friend.

Jisung's eyes widened in surprise, his composed posture coming to an abrupt halt. He blinked at you, clearly taken aback by the unexpected revelation. "What, you kissed Park Seonghwa?" Jisung almost screams as he hears your words.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, all the while trying to shush him in case someone overhears the conversation.

"Jisung you need to learn to control your volume levels," You laugh.

Jisung suddenly scurries towards you on his knees, a mischievous look plastered on his features.

“With tongue or without?” he whispers, as if he is a kid in highschool talking about their first kiss.

“Grow up Jisung,” You laugh loudly at his immature question, Jisung also falling backwards, laughing at himself.

Jisung lets out a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "I need to know if I have to buy a suit and a fancy hat for the wedding."

“We are not getting married now, and if you turn up at my wedding with a fancy hat I will not let you in.”

“My fashion ideals are beyond your comprehension.” Jisung rolls his eyes whilst crossing his arms.

Eventually, Jisung turns to you, his eyes filled with curiosity as he seemingly remembers something. "So, what had you whispering into the phone earlier?" he asks, suddenly he gets overly excited, “Did you sleep with Seonghwa?”

You can't help but blush, feeling somewhat exposed. Jisung knows you well, and secrets between you two are a rarity. "We did not," you reply with a grin. "I was whispering because I might've woken Yunho, but it turned out fine."

“Wait, Yunho? I thought you guys weren't on great terms,”

“Well, he apologised, very well I might add. He made my favourite meal then… we almost kissed in the kitchen, it was intense, you would have screamed Ji. But then Jongho walked in…”

“Ugh, homewrecker,” Jisung rolls his eyes, getting annoyed that Jongho ruined the moment, yet he cannot seem to stay mad at Jongho, seeing as he had become rather fond of him after the confrontation the other day.

“Ji, he just walked in at the wrong time,” you exclaim, slightly exasperated but laughing gently, “Well, in the evening I couldn't sleep because of it so I went to go find Yunho.”

“Did you guys have sex?” Jisung almost screams, getting way too invested in your story.

Panic surged through you as soon as those words slipped from Jisung's lips. You knew the topic of your roommates and their romantic feelings was something that needed to be kept under wraps, at least for now. You hastily reached out and clamped your hand over Jisung's mouth, your eyes wide with urgency.

"Shh! Jisung, not so loud." you whisper urgently, your voice barely more than a hushed breath. You shot a quick glance around, making sure no one was within earshot.

Jisung's eyes widened in realisation, and he nodded as best as he could beneath the constraint of your hand. You slowly removed your hand, ensuring that the coast was clear before continuing the conversation in a hushed tone.

"We can't let anyone overhear us," you explained quietly. "It's... a complicated situation, and I don't want to cause any unnecessary drama." You say, laughing, but also exasperated by your bestfriends words. “And no, we didn’t.”

“Oh, I forgot that you’re gonna be a virgin for life,”

“The only reason I'm still a virgin, is because I would have to lose my V card and I never lose. I’m not a loser, I'm too sexy and macho…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Okay.”

You two stay silent for a few moments, before bursting into laughter. As the two of you sit together beneath the blossoming tree, you're reminded once again of the connections that enrich your life. Whether it's sharing creative inspirations with Jisung or quietly embracing moments of friendship, these bonds make life's journey all the more beautiful. The delicate blossoms above seem to nod in agreement, as if nature itself acknowledges the preciousness of these connections.

For a second, you wonder if you should speak to Jisung about the weird message you received last night, then it seems as if Jisung remembers something, his eyes lighting up for a second, causing you to momentarily forget your concerns.

“I am going to a cute cafe this afternoon with Minho and this girl we met at the mall yesterday. You finish at three today, right. Do you maybe want to come?”

“Mall? I was also there yesterday, I didn't see you guys.”

“Oh, really? That’s so weird, we were mostly in the game stores.”

“Hmm, that’s why,” you nod in agreement, “but sure that sounds fun.”

“I'll meet you at the East exit then, we will meet them there.”

“Sounds good!”

The final lecture of the day concluded, and you couldn't have been more eager to meet up with Jisung at the east wing as planned. As you made your way there, your anticipation grew, and your steps quickened.

True to his nature, Jisung arrived with his usual bright smile, his infectious enthusiasm immediately lifting your spirits. His friendly hug was a warm embrace that signified the beginning of another memorable outing.

"Hey!" he greeted cheerfully, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I hope you're ready for some quality time with your favourite person."

Returning his smile, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation for the day ahead. "Absolutely," you replied, matching his enthusiasm and returning his smile, genuinely looking forward to catching up with Jisung and Minho.

Honestly, you are slightly afraid to meet the new person that Jisung said was coming, you sometimes get awkward meeting new people, so you hope you can find some common interests with them to start a flowing conversation.

Walking together to the cafe, Jisung fills you in on what's been happening in his life, since you told him about yourself in the morning. He talks about his recent adventures, college life, and the projects he and Minho have been working on. Your conversation flows effortlessly, and you feel lucky to have Jisung. Attentively listening to his words, you walk side by side towards the cafe.

“You’re going to love it here, I’ve seen this place all over TikTok.”

Upon arriving at the cafe, you spot Minho already there, sitting with a girl who must be the girl they met at the mall. As you approach, Minho's face lights up, and he stands to greet you with a warm hug.

"Hey, ____, you look great. I'm glad you're feeling better.” Minho says quietly in your ear, his words full of genuine care.

You reciprocate the hug, feeling instantly welcomed by Minho's friendly demeanour, him not being big on hugs, you relish in the fact he gave you one so carefreely.

“Thank you, Minho."

When you part from the hug, you notice the sandy blonde haired girl sitting across from Minho and you put your full attention towards her. She offers you a polite smile and a nod of acknowledgement.

"Hello, nice to meet you, You must be ____." She says, her words pleasant enough, but her tone seems a touch distant, even with a trace of something behind her words, yet you can't quite distinguish what it is.

You take a seat next to Minho, feeling a bit uncertain about the girl’s demeanour.

“That’s me!” You reply, trying to keep positive and lively.

“I’m Ryuha,”

Nodding back, you offer her a smile, and you can't help but notice the way her smile falters ever so slightly. Nevertheless, you continue to hold conversation. Perhaps she is shy around new people.

The small, cosy café gives a warm buzzing atmosphere, the usual clatter of cups and the soft hum of conversations surround you, yet despite the comforting ambience, the vibe that Ryuha is emitting leaves you feeling extremely weird.

As you take a sip of your drink, your curiosity gets the better of you, and you turn your attention to Ryuha. Her presence has been somewhat enigmatic since she arrived, and her dismissive attitude towards you has piqued your interest to say the least. Leaning in slightly, your eyes meet hers, and you can’t help but ask, "So are you going to school around here?"

Ryuha's eyes, sharp as a hawk's, bore into you for a moment before she replies, "No, just visiting here. I go to school by the west coast." Her voice was smooth and measured, but her gaze held an intensity that left you somewhat uneasy.

"That's nice," you continue, trying to keep the conversation flowing and hoping she will warm up to you. "Any reason why you're here?" A warm smile accompanies your words, an attempt to break the ice and bridge the gap that seemed to separate the two of you.

Ryuha's response, however, was far from welcoming. She maintains eye contact with Minho and Jisung, her tone noticeably more pleasant when she answered, "Oh, just exploring a bit, meeting some friends." It was as if an invisible wall had been erected between you and her, and she seemed perfectly content with keeping it firmly in place.

Ryuha continues to engage in the conversation, but something about her body language strikes you as off. While she appears friendly with her words, her eyes occasionally give you a subtly scrutinising look, almost as if she's sizing you up. As the conversation progresses, Ryuha makes comments that are laced with passive-aggressiveness. She offers what seem like compliments, but her tone and expressions suggest otherwise.

For instance, when you mention your recent accomplishments, she responds with, "That's impressive," but her raised eyebrow and faint scowl make it clear she doesn't entirely mean it. Or when Jisung complimented your outfit and she replied with, “it's definitely…unique.” Again when you mention a book you are enjoying, and she says, “that’s not my cup of tea, but everyone has their own tastes.”

When the third passive-aggressive comment slips from Ryuha's lips, a subtle but growing sense of irritation begins to gnaw at you. You can’t help but feel a bit upset, wondering why she seemed so fixated on you, creating an atmosphere of discomfort.

Ryuha's persistent comments left you feeling isolated, as if she had singled you out for some unknown reason. It puzzled you why she would choose to be passive-aggressive with you, while her interactions with Jisung and Minho were filled with kindness.

Despite the growing unease, you opted to maintain your composure. You weren't one to engage in confrontations, especially with someone you had just met. Instead, you focused on the positive aspects of the gathering, cherishing the time spent with Jisung and Minho, and hoping that the mysterious tension created by Ryuha's comments would eventually dissipate.

It is when the subject of dating comes up that Ryuha suddenly seems awfully curious all of a sudden.

Ryuha leans in slightly, her tone carrying a touch of curiosity as she asks, "So, do you have any boyfriends?"

Jisung, ever the friendly and open one, began to answer, "Well, she—"

But you do not let him finish. Something about Ryuha's tone and the way she had been subtly probing throughout the conversation put you on edge. You met Ryuha's gaze with a polite yet guarded expression, deciding to take control of the narrative.

"I'm not seeing anyone at the moment," you reply evenly, your words carefully chosen. It wasn't that you were opposed to sharing, but you had a gut feeling that Ryuha might have ulterior motives for gathering such information. Your trust wasn't easily earned, and you weren't about to hand over personal details to someone you had just met.

“Interesting.”

Jisung, catching on to your hesitation, offers a supportive nod and changes the topic, steering the conversation toward lighter subjects. Ryuha, though her curiosity remained apparent, seemed to respect your boundaries, at least for the time being.

“How about you?” You ask, trying to continue the conversation and ignore the awkward atmosphere that has shaped around you.

“I’m not seeing one at the moment, but I’m interested… they will likely be mine soon.”

Ryuha's eyes locked onto yours with an unwavering intensity, the sudden wave of confidence in her statement became overwhelmingly intimidating. It was as if she possessed an uncanny ability to dissect your thoughts and emotions, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. At that moment, you are almost certain that there is something behind her cryptic comments.

Glancing over at Minho, who is seated next to Ryuha, you cannot help but notice the baffled and almost disgusted expression on his features. It makes you bite back a smile when you realise it is clear that he has caught onto Ryuha's dismissive and rude behaviour. Seeing his reaction provides reassuring confirmation that you weren't imagining things, Ryuha was indeed being impolite and disrespectful.

The silent acknowledgement between you and Minho serves as a small source of solace amidst the uncomfortable atmosphere created by Ryuha's demeanour. It is a silent reminder that you weren't alone in your assessment of the situation, and that there was validity in your discomfort.

Yet, when you shift your gaze to Jisung, who is still lively and enthusiastically chatting with Ryuha, it becomes evident that he has not caught on to her behaviour. His obliviousness to the underlying tension provides a stark contrast to Minho's reaction, highlighting the complexity of the situation.

The conversation flows, yet you cannot shake the feeling that there was more to Ryuha's inquiries than simple curiosity. You decide to stay cautious and trust your instincts when it comes to sharing personal information, especially with someone whose intentions remain shrouded in mystery.

Throughout the conversation, you notice that Ryuha's attention frequently drifts away whenever you speak. It's as though she's dismissive of your words, and you can't help but feel a growing sense of discomfort. Her actions don't align with the polite facade she maintains with her words.

Despite her subtle rudeness, you remain polite and try to engage in the conversation as best as you can. It's important to you that you make a good impression and enjoy this time with Jisung, Minho, and their friend, even though Ryuha's presence remains a mysterious and somewhat uncomfortable aspect of the gathering.

It takes an hour for the gathering at the cafe to come to an end, you have to stop Minho twice from saying something back to Ryuha as she issues yet another passive aggressive comment in your direction. You would rather not have to face a conflict in the middle of a bustling cafe.

The moment you step out of the café and feel the cool breeze on your skin, it is as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. The atmosphere inside had been heavy with tension, and the sense of relief outside is a welcome change. You take a deep breath, savouring the crispness of the afternoon air.

Turning to leave, you are taken aback when Ryuha turns toward you, her sharp gaze still fixed on you. She speaks, her voice smooth and confident, with a hint of something you can’t quite place. "It was nice to meet you, finally," she says, her words hanging in the air.

You furrow your brow, utterly perplexed by her statement. The two of you had never met before today, and you were sure of it. What does she mean by "finally"? You can’t help but wonder if there had been some misunderstanding.

"I mean, Jisung told me so much about you yesterday," Ryuha continues, her tone carrying a sense of familiarity that left you feeling slightly out of place. Her words added to the growing puzzle, as you tried to reconcile her earlier dismissive attitude with this newfound knowledge.

“Anyways, I have places to be. There’s something important I need to do.”

Her enigmatic behaviour continues, leaving you with more questions than answers. Watching as she exchanges warm goodbyes with Minho and Jisung, you cannot help but notice that she doesn’t bid you farewell, further deepening the mystery surrounding her intentions.

“Holy shit, remind me to never meet with her again.” Minho exclaims as soon as he sees Ryuha out of earshot.

“What? She was so nice.” Jisung says, confused to what Minho is saying.

“I’m sorry babe, but you have to have your head up your ass to not see she was a raging bitch. Are you okay?” Minho asks as he turns towards you, scanning you for any trace of discomfort.

“Minho what are you saying? What happened?” Jisung questions, oblivious to the situation.

“It's nothing Ji, she was just kind of off.” You reply, not wanting to start something yet also getting slightly irritated at Jisung’s way to easily trust people.

“Wait, was she?” Jisung questions, yet starting to believe you, seeing as he knows you are able to see through most people.

“She was weird as fuck, almost a pick me, ew.” Minho contributes, a disgusted look on his face, which almost makes you laugh.

“I don't know, I thought she was nice.”

“You're just going to have to trust us, she was strange,” Minho replies.

“Okay…then I hate her. If you don't like her neither do I.”

Laughing gently, you feel grateful for Jisung’s complete understanding. The three of you start to walk towards your respective homes.

“Do you know what is even weirder?” You say after a few moments of silence, judging by the curious looks on your friends face, you decide to continue, “she is so familiar, yet I cannot for the life of me put a name, place, to a face.”

“Creepy.” Minho says, with another disgusted face.

“Maybe you met her before and you were mean?” Jisung adds before correcting himself, “nevermind, I don't think you've been mean to anyone in your life.”

Minho hums in agreement before going deep into contemplation, then speaking once more, “Whatever it is, hopefully we never see her again.”

All you can do is nod in agreement, a profound sense of gratitude filling your body.

After entering the house, you automatically kick off your shoes and hang your coat, a familiar routine that brings a sense of normalcy to your day. However, something catches your attention, something that doesn't quite fit the usual order of things.

The basement door stands slightly ajar.

Your brow furrows in confusion because you distinctly recall that this door is typically kept shut. In fact, you've walked past it countless times without giving it much thought, almost forgetting the existence of a basement altogether. It's a part of the house that you haven't had the chance to explore since moving in.

A wave of curiosity washes over you, particularly as you recollect the conversation you had with Wooyoung and Yeosang about converting the basement into a movie room. With the day's confusing events and the strange messages gnawing at your nerves, the idea of seeking some comfort becomes rather appealing. The prospect of losing yourself in a movie before dinner sounds like a welcome distraction from the mysteries of the day.

Tentatively, you push the basement door open wider, the hinges creaking softly as if revealing a long forgotten secret. The descent into the basement is dimly lit, and as you take the first step, your heart races with a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

The air grows cooler as you make your way downstairs, and you're struck by the transformation of the basement. The space has been meticulously converted into a cosy movie room, complete with plush bean bags, cushions, and a projection screen that spans one of the walls. The soft, warm glow of fairy lights traces the contours of the room, casting a magical ambiance that feels like a comforting embrace. The aroma of freshly popped popcorn hung in the air, adding an inviting touch to the atmosphere.

Strolling through the room, your eyes take in every detail of its inviting setup. In the midst of the warm ambiance, you spot Wooyoung. He is lounging on a sofa, his back turned towards you, his gaze seemingly lost in deep contemplation. Approaching him, you can’t help but notice that the usual playfulness that usually defines him has been somewhat subdued. It is a stark contrast to the vibrant, charismatic Wooyoung you had grown accustomed to.

A soft, genuine smile graces your lips as you greet him, your voice carrying a soothing undertone that seemed to resonate with the room's tranquillity. "Hey, Wooyoung."

He turns to look at you, slightly surprised by your presence, yet his smile is warm but tinged with a hint of melancholy.

"Hey muffin," he replies, his eyes holding a depth you have not seen before.

Taking a seat beside him, you turn to face him, “How has your day been?” You attempt to strike up a conversation, excitement evident in your tone. You haven't had much alone time with Wooyoung, you are excited for this time together.your concern evident in your eyes.

“It was fine,” he replies, his smile not reaching his eyes, like it usually does.

"Is something bothering you?" you ask, your voice filled with genuine worry. "You've seemed a bit different lately."

Sinking into the plush couch in the dimly lit movie room, a strange sense of unease washes over you. It's as if the comforting embrace of the room has given way to an eerie feeling of vulnerability. The malicious messages you have been receiving, the slightly ajar basement door, and now this unsettling thought creep into your mind, and you can't help but feel a wave of fear.

Suddenly, your thoughts become a turbulent whirlwind, and a nagging doubt begins to gnaw at you. Could it be that Wooyoung, the one you had grown so close to, no longer has the same feelings for you? The idea takes root in your mind, and irrational fears start to twist your perception of reality.

You remember the somewhat subdued demeanour he displayed earlier in the kitchen. Your mind starts to interpret it as a sign of detachment, as though he's pulling away.

The warmth of the movie room, once so comforting, now feels like a suffocating cocoon of uncertainty. Your heart races, and a lump forms in your throat. What if it was all a mistake? What if your connection with Wooyoung was just a fleeting moment, destined to fade away?

In the dim light, your mind conjures up all sorts of scenarios, each one more distressing than the last. You want to shake off these irrational fears, to find solace in the familiar sanctuary of the movie room, but the grip of anxiety is relentless.

Wooyoung cuts off your thoughts by sighing softly, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting yours and it seems as if he was reading your mind. "I still really like you, ____," he admits, his voice laced with vulnerability. "But... I'm a little scared."

His confession takes you by surprise, and you search his eyes for an explanation. "Scared? Of what?"

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, a habit of his when he is unsure of how to express himself. "I've always been flirty, you know? It's just who I am. But I've never felt this strongly about someone before, and it's... intimidating."

Your heart swells with understanding and compassion. Reaching out, you gently place your hand on his. "Wooyoung, you don't need to be afraid of your feelings. It's okay to care deeply about someone."

He seems relieved by your understanding but presses on. "I'm also afraid that you might see me as a playboy, or someone who's not interested in something serious because of how I act."

Shaking your head, you offered reassurance. "I don't see you that way, Wooyoung. People are complex. Your playful side doesn't define your capacity for something real and meaningful."

Wooyoung smiles tentatively, grateful for your words. "And there's something else," he admits, his voice softer. "Back in high school, I didn't talk to you much. I worry that you don't like me as much as the others because of that."

You let out a sigh, understanding his insecurity. "Wooyoung, it's not a competition. I care about all of you equally, and I have precious memories with each of you. High school was a long time ago, and people change. You've shown me a different side of you, and I appreciate it."

Wooyoung's smile grew wider, a mixture of relief and gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you, muffin," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I needed to hear that."

Giving his arm a reassuring squeeze, you smile back at him.

"Anytime, Wooyoung. We're all here for each other, remember? I’m here for you."

Intertwining your fingers, Wooyoung holds onto your hand gently, the action making your heart race as you share a smile with him. The both of you settle back into the plush cushions, surrounded by the warm embrace of the fairy lights, you knew that this moment was a step towards a deeper understanding and connection.

"I really like you, Wooyoung." The words escape your lips in a whisper, soft and filled with sincerity, and it's as if the world around you holds its breath, waiting for his response. In that moment, everything seems to hang in the balance, your vulnerability exposed in the dimly lit movie room.

For Wooyoung, those words are a revelation, a cascade of emotions that threaten to overwhelm him. His heart flutters, and he feels a warmth spreading from deep within. It's a feeling he's been yearning for, yet never quite dared to voice.

"Thank you for liking me, all of you," you continue, your voice holding a gentle grace that resonates with him. It's a sentiment that he's been unable to express, a gratitude that goes beyond words.

“How can we not?”

Wooyoung hesitates for only a moment, his emotions too strong to contain. In one fluid motion, he pulls you close, enfolding you in a warm, earnest hug. The position is a bit awkward, given that you're both sitting, but at that moment, neither of you cares about comfort or convention.

Your bodies are pressed together, and it feels like an unspoken promise. In the embrace, there's a sense of completeness, of two souls finding solace in each other's presence. Tears well up in Wooyoung's eyes, and he holds you tighter, as if afraid that this beautiful moment might slip away. The dimly lit movie room bears witness to this intimate connection, the air filled with unspoken emotions.

In this tight embrace, you both find comfort, solace, and a shared understanding that goes beyond any uncertainties or fears. It's a simple yet heartfelt affirmation of your feelings for each other, a promise to explore the uncharted territory of your hearts together. The cosy movie room seemed to hold its breath, as if recognizing the significance of this moment.

With a sense of shared understanding and comfort, you and Wooyoung turn your attention to the old projector, both blushing profusely, ready to lose yourselves in the world of cinema. The room, with its warm glow and soft furnishings, felt like a cocoon of safety, shielding you both from the uncertainties of the outside world.

As the movie begins, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Wooyoung. The flickering light of the screen cast a mesmerising glow on his features, highlighting the handsome contours of his face. His eyes sparkled with a quiet intensity, and a soft genuine smile tugged at his lips.

You couldn't help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looked, the warm illumination accentuating every angle of his face. Your gaze falls upon a tiny mole just beneath his eye, a charming imperfection that somehow added to his allure. Another mole adorned his lip, drawing your attention like a magnetic force.

For a moment, an intrusive thought crosses your mind; the idea of kissing that mole on his lip. It was a fleeting fantasy, a tempting daydream that brushed against your consciousness like a gentle breeze. But as quickly as it appeared, you banished the thought, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush at its audacity.

Your gaze lingers on Wooyoung's charming mole beneath his lip, you're drawn into a brief reverie, a fantasy that dances at the edge of your thoughts. However, before you can dismiss the whimsical notion entirely, something unexpected happens.

Wooyoung, ever perceptive, notices your lingering gaze. A mischievous glint sparkles in his eyes, and he offers a playful, enticing proposition. "You know," he begins, his voice a low, husky whisper that carries a hint of amusement, "if you're thinking about kissing this mole..."

He raises a single finger, gently tracing it over the tiny mole on his lip, his lips curving into a sly, teasing smile. "You're more than welcome to give it a try."

Your heart skips a beat at his audacious invitation. It's a playful dare, a flirtatious challenge that Wooyoung has always been known for. A rush of emotions floods your senses – surprise, anticipation, and a flicker of desire. It's a moment filled with unspoken tension, a playful dance between temptation and restraint.

For a moment, you're left in a tantalising dilemma, caught between the allure of his suggestion and the awareness of your surroundings in the cosy movie room. The glow of the screen casts soft, shifting shadows, creating an atmosphere of intimacy that's hard to resist.

As you steal another glance at Wooyoung's inviting lips, a thousand thoughts race through your mind. It's a choice you have to make, a moment that teeters on the edge of something more profound, all set against the backdrop of a movie playing in the background.

"Dinner's ready!" a voice calls from upstairs, breaking the enchanting moment between you and Wooyoung. Startled by the interruption, you hastily stand up from the couch, your heart still racing from the intense emotions that had been building.

Wooyoung lets out an almost inaudible groan of frustration, clearly annoyed at the timing of the interruption. He rises from the couch as well and follows closely behind you as you ascend the staircase. However, just as you're about to take that final step to exit the basement, Wooyoung gently grabs your waist, his touch both firm and gentle.

Your back is pressed against the wall, the proximity between you and Wooyoung electrifying. He stands on the step just below you, his eyes almost meeting yours, him looking up at you with wide eyes, and you can feel the tension in the air. It's as if the missed opportunity from just seconds ago has come full circle, and now, you both find yourselves on the cliff of something unspoken.

His eyes, filled with a glint of longing and vulnerability, look up at you, and a moment of intense connection passes between you two. It's a gaze that speaks of unspoken desires and a tantalising yearning. Your heart flutters, and you can't help but feel flustered by the close proximity, your thoughts racing with the possibilities of what could happen next.

Wooyoung's expression is one of longing, like a lost puppy seeking comfort and affection. His eyes are filled with an unspoken question, a silent plea for something more. You imagine what it would be like to lean down and capture his lips in a tender kiss, to explore the depths of this uncharted territory that beckons.

But the knowledge that dinner is waiting and the awareness of your surroundings pull you back to reality. The moment remains suspended in time, an unresolved tension that lingers in the air. Wooyoung gazes up at you, the glint in his eyes ignites your imagination, and you can't help but wonder what might happen in a different situation, if he was looking up at you in a different situation.

"The offer is always open," Wooyoung murmurs, his voice a warm invitation as he gently pulls you closer, your lips nearly touching in a tantalising promise of a kiss. His breath caresses your lips, and the world around you seems to fade into the background.

"My lips are yours," he whispers, his words a sweet promise that lingers in the air. The moment is charged with desire, and you can feel your heart racing as you lean in, ready to close the distance and savour the taste of his lips.

But just as your lips are about to meet in a gentle kiss, Wooyoung moves away, leaving you breathless and wanting. He looks at you, his eyes roaming over your flustered state, a smug sense of pride blossoming within him as he senses the desire that courses through your veins.

With a sly and teasing smile, he turns away and heads to the kitchen for dinner, leaving you standing there, your heart still pounding, and aching for the taste of what could have been. The promise of that kiss lingers in the air, a tantalising reminder of the unspoken desires that simmer between you and Wooyoung, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

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