#but only two of them (maybe one) are like actually Christian
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I need to share something absolutely hysterical.
Last night, I was playing a game that had different categories with questions (ex who is this character? Who said this? Where is this from?). You get twenty seconds to answer and unlimited guesses. The faster you type in the answer, the more points you get.
One of the categories was Memes & Internet. You could change the difficulty - easy, medium, and hard. We went through easy and medium (although those seemed less based on obscurity and what was more recent - more recent being in medium). It was of the caliber of Surprised Pikachu, Pen Pineapple Apple Pen, Pepe, Distracted Boyfriend - y'know, normal stuff.
And then hard mode. I'll be honest I don't remember which ones they were, but they didn't seem too obscure. It cycled through ones everyone knew and no one knew. Naturally, the scores were pretty close together. At this point, only one more correct answer was needed to win (for me and two others).
The next prompt popped up. It was a screenshot. The background had a grainy yellow and orange checkered floor and matching yellow columns. In the foreground was a poorly rendered 3D Sans Undertale and Danganronpa's very own Nagito Komaeda, both mid dance.
Now, in this game if you type an incorrect answer your opponents can see it. That means if you have the right answer and you spell or word it wrong they have a shot of guessing right before you. They will also see that you wrote Fingers In His Ass, with no context, if it's wrong. So this was high stakes, but clearly no one else knew what it was and I was one of the slowest typers there. I didn't know if I'd get another shot.
So while everyone was writing Sans or Undertale, and making various sounds of confusion, I quickly typed out Fingers In His Ass, hesitated for a second, and submitted
It was correct. I had won, so long as nobody else knew what it was, I was safe.
But that's not where the story ends, for you see after a round is over, the answer is revealed. Everyone else knew that I knew, because the game also shows if you got the correct answer. So while I was loudly celebrating my victory, they were questioning how and why I knew it as well as expressing slight concern.
Through my hysterical cheers and laughter I got out, "It's a tumblr thing! It's a tumblr thing! Y'know, Fingers in His Ass Sunday? It's like Out of Touch Thursdays, it's not that weird. We just use it to track time, okay? It's fine. Don't worry about it."
So now my church friends probably have a very weird perception of tumblr.
#sans undertale#nagito komaeda#memes#lmao#fingers in his ass sunday#irl#I dunno what to add here but this happened yesterday and it was hilarious#did you know that apparently people outside of tumblr don't know what worm on a string is? wild shit#experiencing it and writing it down are two very different things#I hope I was able to convey even the slight hysteria I was in because My God#also they're my friends I met in church#but only two of them (maybe one) are like actually Christian#I'm out to them and they all use my preferred names and pronouns so#but it's still funny#I would say that's four less people moving in here but none of them use twitter so I can't make that jokes#however if that's not gunshots I don't know what is#later the same prompt came up again and two people refused to type it in because of ass#long post#my stuff
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| Wanting to write down all my thoughts on what eliphas was supposed to be and how it was executed and how it ruined his perception vs ,, making a video about it to practice my skills ... ah- |
#:[ OBSERVATION 0 | OOC ]:#| He's a genuinly interesting character and i feel he could have been a very tragic one at that- |#| but due to all the cuts and rushed writing he's basically just A Guy who is Angry and The Worst Christian Dad Ever |#| Despite a lot of things pointing to him being more then that |#| Things like how he and astral were both created to embody what the denizens wanted but only astral got a chance to be different |#| How both of them are under threat of their brains being rebooted but Eliphas didnt have a Yuma to save him |#| -goes on for two hours about the character maybe 3 people actually like- |
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Bolinus brandaris [S. R]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 1.6k
and by public demand, part. 2
summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.
"Everyone ready to go back?" Gideon asked, taking a quick look at the jet to make sure all of you were there. You had an extortion case quite far from home, Miami to be exact, and you had a long flight back to Quantico, so the last thing he wanted was to forget someone.
Miami was a beautiful place that you would have liked to visit in other circumstances, that had nothing to do with crimes at all, since you had always felt a certain weakness for the warm climate, the sticky breeze, and the sound of the waves that were on the beach.
You had only had the chance to go to a mall to buy a new outfit, because yours had been completely ruined, while Morgan took advantage of the wait to buy an ice cream popsicle. It hadn't been a dream ride, but it was something at least.
“I feel like I could sleep for 90 hours straight,” you sighed, closing your eyes and falling into Spencer's side as usual. You two were the youngest, he was younger than you of course, so it was easier to connect with him than the other members of the team. You seemed to have similar interests and he was strangely comfortable with you.
“You would actually need to wake up periodically to expel fluids or you would risk bursting your bladder or even your bowels, because even though your digestive system shuts down when you sleep it only does so for a certain number of hours. Maybe you could sleep for 14 or 17 hours, which is what a baby sleeps, but 90 seems excessive to me even if you do not consume drinks or food before doing so”
"It's an expression, Reid" you laughed, but without the intention of making him feel bad for having answered you that way. Sometimes it was necessary to explain to him that you weren't being serious, as obvious as this seemed.
"You can sleep through the whole trip" he argued and although you still had your eyes closed you assumed that he had shrugged "I'll wake you up if you start snoring"
"I don't snore!" you defended yourself, playfully smacking him on the arm and hearing him laugh. Somehow watching him led you to remember a chain of events ending in the package you had carefully stowed in your bag and you almost jumped out of your seat the next second: "Wait, I just remembered something" you reported and went to the baggage area to rummage through your suitcase, taking just a few minutes to be back in your seat “I bought you this”
"Me?" he asked in disbelief. The others were on their own business enough to notice your conversation, making the moment a bit more private.
“I looked at it and just thought of you. Although I don't know if you're going to like it” you said shyly, handing him something wrapped in a paper bag with a store sticker on it. You had found the gift when you went shopping for your clean outfit and a part of you had been anxious all day to be able to give it to him to watch his reaction.
Reid looked at it curiously and handled it carefully, as if he were afraid it would fall apart in his fingers, until he managed to open it and took a piece of cloth from it.
"A scarf?"
“I saw you in one the other day and I thought you might like them. You know, you always wear your vests under your coats and your ties and you're always overdressed, but in a cute way” you laughed, while you pointed your hands at your body pretending to touch the pieces of his outfit "But it's okay if you don't want to wear it"
"No! I mean yes. I want to use it” he reassured you. Spencer held it out to look at it more carefully: it was purple, a stripe in the middle of patterned colored rhombuses intertwined with some embroidery of branches with leaves in black. "Did you know that the color purple is related to royalty because of how difficult it was to obtain the pigment before the Christian era? It is obvious that artificial dyes didn’t exist at that time, so everything they dyed the fabrics with had to be obtained from nature and that particular tone was quite difficult to obtain because it came from Bolinus brandaris, an extremely rare species of sea snail. To obtain 1 gram of this substance it is necessary to have 10,000 snails. And that gram was barely enough to dye a small piece. Its value and the difficulty in mass-producing it is due to the fact that the substance obtained had to be left to dry in the sun for a very precise time to be used later. Half a kilo of wool dyed in that color cost what would now be equivalent to around 300,000 euros,” he said, still holding the scarf as he rambled on. "It is also related to liturgical attire, it symbolizes power, wisdom, and is the perfect combination between the energy of red and the calm of blue”
“Oh yeah, I… I knew all that before I bought it, I didn't choose it just because I think purple brings out your eyes” you blatantly lied, making your friend laugh tenderly.
“What I meant to say is that I like it” he added, a little embarrassed by the smile and attention with which you had been observing him. You always did that when he wandered off, leaving him helpless and not knowing how to react.
"You said it has to do with wisdom, right?" you exclaimed and he nodded gently "Do you think there's some weird psychological reason why my brain knew that and linked it to you or was it just a coincidence?"
"Well, it's hard to explain..." he began to say, turning a little in his seat to be closer to you and begin a long explanation about the connections that our brain creates with things and people.
You were completely exhausted but you didn't have the heart to stop him from saying anything he had to say and you listened intently as much as your body would allow, until eventually you were lulled to sleep by the sound of Spencer's soft voice. When he stopped hearing your hums he realized that you had already fallen asleep and he moved your body carefully until you were completely reclining on the chair, so that when you woke up the physical pain of sleeping on the plane would be less. He, for his part, stayed in the seat next to you sheltered your rest, and at some point ended up asleep too.
The day after she came back from Miami, Spencer was already wearing the scarf you gave him. He had matched it with a brown coat, a vest in a darker shade of purple than the scarf, and a white shirt that together made him look perfect. Also, his well-brushed straight hair fell to the side and his tanned skin looked particularly clean.
You didn’t need to tell him anything because the smile you gave him when you looked him up and down was reason enough for him to be flattered and also proud to receive your approval. All day you watched him, a bit for the garment and a bit for the very pleasure of admiring him, and you noticed that he frequently checked that everything about him looked good, as if he was trying to impress you. Every time he spoke he avoided looking at you, only at you, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.
The day after that he used it too and the next day and the next, to the point where it was strange to see him go anywhere without it, as if it had become a part of him. After a week, while they waited in the boardroom, Elle finally had the courage to face the situation and ask Spencer why the particular choice for something for everyday use.
"It's that his girlfriend gave it to him" answered Morgan, before the brunette could say anything.
"What? No! Y/N is not my girlfriend” he said, completely embarrassed and making sure with his eyes that you weren't around to hear that.
"Oh, now I understand" JJ joined the conversation.
"You understand what?"
“You are always taking care that it doesn’t get dirty or stained”
"Yes, I don't like my clothes to get ruined"
"But more so if it's something his girlfriend gave him" insisted Morgan and in a fit that no one expected Spencer took a ball of paper and threw it at his face. That just got a collective laugh.
"I just like it. That's all”
"We all know you like her, Reid," added Hotch, who had kept quiet thus far and didn't even look up from the files. He flushed red to the ears as the rest of the team shared another laugh, and just seconds later you and Gideon walked through the door.
"Good morning"
"Good morning" answered the others, like school children before the arrival of a teacher. There was one seat left next to Morgan that Gideon took and that forced you into the only remaining chair between Elle and Spencer.
“Did I miss something interesting?” you murmured, leaning into him and smiling close to his face.
"No" he replied kindly, feeling your gaze drop from his eyes.
"Your scarf," you said, reaching out your hands to move it a little around his neck "It was out of place"
Everyone else, except for Gideon, shared knowing glances and stifled giggles as they watched the nervous way he thanked you. It didn't help too much that for the entire meeting you were completely distracted looking at your partner next to you, making the whole team wonder when the two of you were finally going to end up kissing.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid#matthew gray gubler#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#jason gideon#JJ#penelope garcía
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Trouvaille - Chapter Sixteen (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; 20.5k
Trouvaille Masterlist
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Updates on the 7th of each month
Heyyyy besties LOL! Prepare yourselves! This chapter is definitely my spiciest yet, so hold onto your seats (and don't look at me LOL I'm Seokjin thirsty). Besides that, though, we have domestic moments, and GHOSTBUSTING WOO HOO! I hope you all enjoy this and don't hate me for being thirsty. Love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading!
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
Suddenly, all of the sounds of the city faded into oblivion. Cars rushing by passed in colored blurs, romantic music flooding out from restaurants filled with couples celebrating Valentine’s Day dimmed to a hum, and all Y/N could focus on, or even register, were the clumps of powdery snow beginning to gather on Seokjin’s long, straight lashes. His fiery eyes were shifting back and forth, assessing the expression on her face, his sleek black tail curling self-consciously around his waist. Y/N’s brain was scrambling for any kind of coherent response, Seokjin’s grip on her hands going slack once the seconds stretched on.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Seokjin whispered sadly, to himself. It was that statement that had Y/N snapping out of her state of shock.
“Jin–” Y/N exclaimed, but Seokjin had let her go, turning slightly and trudging away, his hand tightening around the handles of the shopping bag. “Wait, honey!”
“We should head back to the car, it’s getting cold with the snow,” Seokjin’s voice sounded thick, like his throat was closing up, making Y/N hiss and lurch forward, catching him by his felt coat. Promptly, he halted, though he wouldn’t turn around to face her.
“Actually, we should talk,” Y/N managed, pulling Seokjin along desperately, yanking him up the stairs of the church they were in front of and pushing the two of them inside the warm building.
The place was lit up, but mercifully empty, and Y/N assumed the priests were in the back of the building, a separate room, where they kept vestments– Jeongguk had been telling her about various aspects of Christianity and the architecture of churches during their hours of reviewing tapes for the Sanders’ case with Namjoon. Huffing, she towed her jaguar hybrid to the enclosed room at the front of the church’s entrance, the one with a window facing altar; the space was intended for parents with crying children to sit in so as not to disturb Mass. Y/N thought it was as good of a place as any to have a private conversation without freezing their asses off in the snow.
“W-why are we here?” Seokjin still wouldn’t turn his face to hers, instead choosing to studiously stare out the window, fixing his eyes on the elaborate wooden pulpit.
“Seokjin, look at me,” Y/N requested gently, tugging the fabric of his coat lightly to encourage him.
Stiffening, Seokjin swallowed, his ears still pressed flat against his wavy head of black hair, chewing on his lip as he finally looked her in the eyes once more. Heart clenching seeing the aching vulnerability on his face, she took the bag of their purchases from Eataly from his hand, placing it on one of the chairs behind them.
“You don’t have to let me down gently, Y/N…” Seokjin uttered quietly, and despite herself, Y/N was rolling her eyes while her back was to him.
“Seokjin, will you just hear me out for a few minutes?” Y/N replied, trying to compose herself despite the way she was nearly ready to pounce on Seokjin. “Don’t shut down on me like that.”
Seokjin remained quiet, his throat bobbing when she faced him again, Y/N sighing and wondering how the hell to explain to him her feelings, not only for him, but for the rest of his housemates. It had her head swimming, and the strong scent of church incense wasn’t helping.
“You… said you loved me?” Y/N wanted to confirm, Seokjin’s neck turning an even deeper shade of red, but he nodded slightly nonetheless. His tail was still curled around his waist.
“Ever since my birthday. Probably even before then,” Seokjin admitted, Y/N’s heart beginning to race in her chest, one of Seokjin’s ears fluttering at the sound.
“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, watching Seokjin trying to not look crestfallen.
“I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it hidden any longer, especially after tonight,” Seokjin continued, one of his hands coming up to rub at his bicep. “Even though… you and Yoongi.”
Time stopped, space ceased to exist. All that mattered to her in those seconds was Seokjin, and his undiluted earnesty was palpable. Nothing could stop Y/N from opening her mouth impulsively, at that point.
“I think I fell in love with you on Halloween,” Y/N blurted loudly, Seokjin’s jaw dropping open in pure shock, her voice echoing in the empty room and emphasizing the ferociousness in her tone. “Seeing you with the kids, handing out candy. Or maybe it was that night you held me after Tae and Joon’s fight.”
“What?” Seokjin breathed, a combination of elation and confusion taking over his expression.
“I fell in love with Yoongi when he offered to teach me piano,” Y/N couldn’t help the word vomit pouring from her mouth, figuring if anything, she could confess all of her feelings to Seokjin, and maybe he’d get where she was coming from. “Jeongguk and Joon when they helped me with the spirit, that day outside when we did the cleansing ritual, I knew I loved them. I fell for Hoseok when I realized he was the glue holding us together.”
Understanding dawned on Seokjin as she spilled her guts to him, but all he did was reach for her hands, a tender look in his eyes so sweet Y/N nearly began to weep. Honestly, she could have been weeping, but she couldn’t stop her speech as Seokjin held her.
“Seeing Jimin wear his expressions so earnestly, innocently, and Taehyung’s trust in me, his love for our home…” Y/N shuddered when Seokjin pulled her in for a hug, her face pressed against the front of his coat, and palms stroking up and down her back to soothe. “I’m in love with you all, I can’t help it, but I do. I love you, Seokjin, so, so much.”
Seokjin didn’t reply, but his chest began to vibrate with purrs, simply holding her as Y/N took a few moments to breathe, initially not coming to the conclusion that saying all of that out loud would end up being such an emotional release for her. Physically, she felt lighter once she admitted all of that to Seokjin, but she was nervous about how he was taking the news that she had feelings for 6 others.
“You really love me? You mean it?” Seokjin broke the silence, his hands shaking as he pushed lightly on her shoulders so he could look at her face, his ears finally perked up after being pressed flat to his head for so long.
Grasping one of his wrists, Y/N maintained eye-contact as she pressed his palm over her heart, no doubt beating rapidly even underneath her thick coat. A small exhale came from Seokjin, Y/N craning her head upwards to scan his face, not wanting to keep him in the lurch any longer.
“Of course I mean it,” Y/N whispered, her free hand curling in the material of his coat, feeling tears gather along her lash line. “You have my heart.”
Seokjin chuckled, the sound watery, and Y/N felt his hands still trembling as they moved to cup her face, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones with reverence. She shivered, sliding her hands up his chest to rest over his heart, beating wildly, drowning in the scent of his eucalyptus body wash.
“I–” Seokjin swallowed, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can I kiss you?”
Heart stopping altogether, her eyelids fluttered as she felt his shaky hands still cradling her face, so gently she could hardly feel the touch.
“Yes,” Y/N replied eagerly, her voice barely coming out at all, transfixed by the way Seokjin looked at her with complete adoration. “Please.”
Slowly, like time had been suspended, she watched Seokjin duck his head, his eyelids growing heavy as he nudged the tip of his nose against hers, Y/N unable to shut her eyes as his beautiful face neared closer than ever. Sucking in a tiny breath, she melted against his broad chest, fingers sliding into the close-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. When Seokjin’s eyes closed, she kept hers open a fraction, only for stars to explode in her vision once his voluminous lips landed on hers.
Immediately making a noise of delight, Y/N sank into Seokjin, not caring that they were in public, or a church, for that matter. The press of his mouth was impossibly sweet, loving, Y/N nearly groaning as his lower lip slipped against the seam of her mouth. While the kiss was chaste, Seokjin’s thumbs still tenderly caressing her cheekbones, it had her insides igniting, angling her head so Seokjin could work his mouth against hers more deeply. Her lungs were burning for oxygen all too soon, Y/N refusing to break the lock of their lips, but unfortunately, her jaguar hybrid sensed her need to breathe, and his perfect lips slid from hers sensually.
Before she could speak, her hands still in his hair, Seokjin began stamping kisses all over her face, like he had the last time he scented her. The purrs coming from his chest grew in volume when she sighed in bliss, Seokjin’s hands moving to cup her neck while he brushed a kiss over her jaw bone.
“I love you, I love you…” Seokjin breathed, his warm breath washing over the side of her neck, Y/N nearly passing out in his strong arms. “My Y/N. My pretty girl, I love you…”
“S-seokjin. Mmm,” Y/N attempted to speak, though the distraction of him mouthing over the slope of her throat was overwhelming. “You, uh? Know– that I, um. Love the others, too? Does it bother you?”
Seokjin paused, pressing one last kiss underneath her earlobe, his arms wrapping around her waist securely. His warmth consumed her, and the way he held her felt like she was being cherished– her own arms wound around his wide shoulders in retribution.
“There’s nothing you could do or say that would change how I feel,” Seokjin said firmly, Y/N shivering at the finality in his tone. “I just… I didn’t think you loved me the way I love you. I had hope when we had lunch with Hannah, but…”
“Yoongi,” Y/N finished for him, nuzzling her face into his chest.
“Does he?” Seokjin probed cautiously, running his hands through her hair, seemingly not able to get enough of touching her so freely.
“Know? Yeah,” Y/N blushed, the whole situation so complicated, she hardly knew how it came to be in the first place. “He knows I love you. All of you.”
Seokjin rested his chin on the top of her head, humming contentedly as he held her. All she wanted in that moment was to remain in his embrace, soaking in his comforting presence, but all too soon he was drawing away, his eyes sparkling and lips a tad swollen from their kiss.
“I think we should head home. We scandalized the priests,” Seokjin nodded to the window, Y/N’s face on fire when she realized indeed, two young priests were gawking at them from behind the glass, and both of them hurriedly returned to arranging pamphlets in the pews.
With that, her and Seokjin giggling the entire way, they left the church, Y/N waving apologetically to the priests while Seokjin grabbed onto her free hand. Y/N didn’t have time to think about what would happen when they got home, but because she swore to herself that she wouldn’t hide information from the others anymore, she wasn’t about to sneak around with Seokjin like she had with Yoongi.
Outside, it was still snowing, but tucked closely into Seokjin’s side, she hardly felt the cold. His arm was around her waist, hand entwined with hers, tucked into her coat pocket. The walk back to the parking garage wasn’t long, but it took twenty minutes– Seokjin stopping occasionally for a kiss amongst the snow storm, his lips melting against hers.
“Got the bag?” Y/N jumped out of the car, glancing at their lit-up house in front of her, chewing her lip nervously.
It wasn’t too late in the evening, so Y/N knew that everyone was probably still up, snacking on their Valentine candy and watching TV, perhaps. Namjoon’s van wasn’t running, surprisingly, so neither he nor Jeongguk were hanging out in there. Seokjin appeared from around the car, the bag of ingredients and recipes in hand, a sweet smile stretched across his face.
Someone flicked on the porch light, most likely Namjoon, who kept quite the canine watch over the front door, especially at night. Clearing her throat, she gestured for Seokjin to head up the porch steps, following closely behind and praying the wolf hybrid wouldn’t immediately sniff out that her and Seokjin’s relationship dynamic had shifted significantly. The jaguar hybrid opened the front door, letting Y/N in first, locking up behind her promptly– if he didn’t, Namjoon would have had a stroke seeing the deadbolt pulled back.
The house was toasty, and judging by the scent, Yoongi had made his popular roasted chicken for dinner for everyone that was left at home. She was blushing as Seokjin unzipped her coat for her, shucking it off and hanging it in the closet, the sounds of the TV from the parlor indicating that a few of the hybrids were hanging out in there.
“You’re back,” Yoongi appeared from the kitchen, leaning against the threshold with a dish rag in his hand. “I thought I’d have to call a cab for you two.”
“No, we took a walk to digest the wine before I got behind the wheel,” Y/N replied, Yoongi smirking when Seokjin was fussing over lint on her sweater from her coat, his fingertips skimming her arms and sides and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Hope there’s leftover chicken for my lunch tomorrow!”
“You know there isn’t, even without you and Jin eating your fill,” Yoongi scoffed, flicking long hair out of his face. The front of his white tee-shirt was damp from doing dishes, the material clinging to the muscles of his lower abdomen. “Here, let me take that.”
Yoongi sprung forward, taking the Eataly bag from Seokjin, and Y/N didn’t miss the way Yoongi subtly sniffed in her direction, his expression turning sly as he returned to the kitchen with the swish of his spotted tail. Stiffening, knowing that Yoongi could probably detect Seokjin’s scent all over her, as well as her uneasy expression, Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose.
“How the hell are we going to break the news without me suffering from a heart attack?” Y/N sighed, shivering when Seokjin cupped the nape of her neck, stroking the sides of her throat, Y/N blinking up at him from her spot in front of the jaguar hybrid, unease heighting when she saw the mischief on his face. “What are you–”
“I LOVE Y/N!” Seokjin suddenly hollered at the top of his lungs, Y/N flinching a foot in the air, both because she never heard Seokjin speak so loudly, and the words that came from his mouth. “SHE LOVES ME BACK!”
Cringing, Y/N supposed that was one way to do it, Seokjin bending suddenly and picking Y/N up by her waist, spinning her around like a giant goober. While her world was turning, dizzying up her head, she caught Jeongguk and the shape of his antlers, poking his head over the bannister from upstairs with a hand pressed over his mouth and his shoulders shaking. Prick.
Hoseok barreled into the foyer from the parlor, half of a Twizzler hanging out of his mouth, clever eyes round and filled with joy.
“No way. You told her!?” Hoseok fist-bumped the air, whistling his three-note tone, russet tail swinging merrily. Y/N’s jaw was loose, the idea that Seokjin had been discussing his feelings for her with Hoseok hard to fathom.
Namjoon’s door cracked open a few inches, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he glanced out into the hall, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Despite the news, his gaze went straight to the front door, making sure it was locked up, his half-bitten ear fluttering in satisfaction.
“Didn’t strike me as the polyamorous type, kiddo,” Jeongguk slouched down the stairs, tattoos on both his arms exposed with the muscle tee he was wearing. “You on the other hand, Pink Panther, you should work on subtlety.”
Embarrassed by the jab from Jeongguk, an amused glitter in his black eyes, Y/N shot him a withering glare, very aware of Seokjin still holding her mid-air like a child.
“Yo, Yoongi! You have competition!” Hoseok shouted in the direction of the kitchen, the leopard hybrid popping into the hall and giving Hoseok the finger.
“Foxy, I’ve never heard a voice as grating as yours, let alone known someone to flap their gums so much,” Yoongi seethed, though his expression softened when he looked at Y/N. The silent exchange between the two was, as always, supernatural, the uneven set of Yoongi’s mouth almost telling her congratulations. “Leave Y/N alone, you’re embarrassing her.”
Hoseok finished chewing his Twizzler, still staring at Seokjin proudly, Y/N tapping on Seokjin’s shoulders for him to put her down sheepishly. Seokjin, reluctantly, lowered her to the floor, glee still plain as day on his face.
“You guys could have a thr—” Hoseok was cut off when Yoongi used the dish rag he was still holding to smack the back of the fox hybrid’s head, even Seokjin offering Hoseok a low, feral growl. “Nevermind! I’ll butt out! Y/N, come watch Step Brothers with me!”
Hoseok, quick to recover from the sharp whack of the towel, his hand massaging his scalp with a wince, gestured towards the parlor, winking at Y/N merrily. Y/N snorted, hoping that the shameful spark of enticement that struck through her at that idea was undetected by the hybrids in the foyer. Jeongguk was calling Hoseok a ‘dirty goddamn pervert’ before retreating outside for a smoke.
Casting a look upstairs, Y/N noticed Taehyung’s door ajar, the Kodiak hybrid’s head of dark curly hair visible. Too far away to gauge his reaction, Y/N hoped that he wasn’t upset, even though Seokjin had cut right to the chase, declared their mutual affection, and they weren’t sneaking around. She felt immensely awkward, between Yoongi and Hoseok still bickering, Taehyung watching from upstairs, and Namjoon’s disinterested retreat back into his bedroom.
“Wanna go watch the movie with me?” Y/N put her focus on Seokjin, unwilling to part with him just yet, and truthfully, missing Hoseok like a lost limb. “I can stay up for a bit longer before I head to bed for work tomorrow.”
“Mmm-hm,” Seokjin easily agreed, the peeved look on his face disappearing when Y/N reached for his hand. Before they left for the parlor, Y/N addressed Yoongi, who was heading back into the kitchen, murmuring something about “fuckin’ fox”.
“Hey, angel. Any idea where Jimin is?” Y/N tried to pay no mind to Seokjin pressing on the vulnerable skin of the inside of her wrist with his thumb, Yoongi humming and leaning forward, kissing her cheekbone with a featherlight ghost of his lips.
“His room, showering. Can’t you hear the noisy-ass pipes?” Yoongi replied, jutting his chin forward in the direction of Jimin’s room down the hall. “Don’t worry. Every hybrid in a two mile radius heard Seokjin’s declaration.”
“Ass,” Y/N muttered, narrowly dodging the dish towel he twisted up to level a smack to her behind, Seokjin growling gutturally and tugging Y/N towards the parlor, ignoring Yoongi’s amused snickers.
Hoseok was already comfortable on the recliner, the movie queued up, snacking on his Twizzlers with a wry smirk on his face, staring pointedly at her and Seokjin’s intertwined fingers. Resisting the urge to wipe that smirk off his face with her mouth, Y/N squeaked when Seokjin yanked on her hand, the jaguar hybrid plopping down on the couch with her in tow. Somehow, she found her legs draped over his lap, her back leaning on the armrest and his hands running up and down her calves indulgently. It seemed Seokjin was resuming his touchiness, and that time around, he jacked up the intensity to one thousand.
Hoseok simply played the movie, like her and Seokjin sitting like that was completely ordinary, Y/N finding herself a little tense with the intimacy of the position she was in. However, as seconds ticked by and Seokjin’s fingertips massaged her skin vigorously, she was melting into the couch, eyes already heavy with sleep. Over the noise of the movie, Seokjin’s content purrs lulled her to sleep, and the next time she had consciousness was when she felt him gather her in his arms and carry her to her bedroom.
“I think we’re going to schedule the investigation for Monday, do you think that will work?” Y/N was in the process of stacking a new batch of Labradorite onto the crystal table at the shop, Judy helping her with her silver bangles jangling.
“You’ll have to give Erika a call, and I’ll book the hotel that the family will stay in overnight,” Judy replied, blowing sandy hair out of her face.
Y/N had about one million things going on in her life at that point, but prioritizing the investigation was at the near top of the list. First, of course, was Hoseok’s birthday that upcoming Saturday, and Y/N had finally managed to plan what they were doing after squeezing it out of him. That aside, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jimin in 24 hours, the coyote hybrid was already outside with the horses before she went to work that morning, so Y/N had no idea what he thought of her and Seokjin yet. Taehyung, at least, was present for her early breakfast with Yoongi, and didn’t appear upset at all, which had her and Yoongi exchanging secret looks of pure disbelief.
“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Judy snapped her out of her thoughts, a kind smile on her face when Y/N realized she was staring blankly at a slab of rose quartz.
“O-oh, no, I’m so sorry. I have a lot on my mind, my bad,” Y/N stuttered, Judy nodding while adjusting the way a sphere of Labradorite was sitting in a shallow bowl, so the flash of blue in the crystal was sparkling just right. “What did you say?”
“Not to worry, Y/N. I was just asking about your hybrids… that reading I gave you many months ago. Have you seen any truth in it?”
It was common for Judy to speak like that, as if she didn’t have psychic ability, but it didn’t bother Y/N at all. In fact, she preferred Judy’s way of going about divination rather than her mother’s tactic of going behind her back or blurting out her random premonitions without warning.
“I…” Y/N fumbled with the box in front of her, accidentally dropping the rose quartz point she was holding. “I took some notes, like you suggested. I was able to connect the cards to each of them.”
“Really?” Judy exclaimed, excitement lighting up her green eyes, though the tug at the corner of her mouth told Y/N her boss knew as much.
“Considering my boy’s pasts, when you gave me that reading at the time, I was sort of against the idea of entertaining any kind of romance between us. I wanted them to feel safe enough to start living their lives how they wanted. But I couldn’t help…”
“Falling?” Judy raised an eyebrow, her smile kind and sincere.
“Yeah, more like I hurtled myself off the cliff of no return,” Y/N joked, thoughts going to Seokjin, who sent her off that morning with dozens of kisses peppered across her cheeks. She thought of Yoongi, who got up extra early to make more chicken for her lunch. How Taehyung would snap pictures of her when she wasn’t looking, Namjoon’s thoughtful nightly book recommendations.
“Good to know that my readings are still accurate,” Judy was amused, placing another crystal on the table with a chuckle. “That’s why you’ve been so chipper these days. A couple of months ago you seemed very stressed out.”
“I’m still figuring things out. Two of them reciprocate my feelings, so far,” Y/N mumbled quietly, somehow finding it nice to confide in her boss. Her mother would be way too excited to talk about her and the boys.
“Is one of them part of our new investigation team?” Judy got to her feet, dusting off her maxi skirt. “That wolf hybrid seemed quite protective of you that day you brought him here in August.”
Y/N blinked, thinking back to that day– it was the first day she even spoke to Namjoon, the day she brought him home. She shook her head quickly, a pang in her chest, remembering his stoic indifference towards her relationships with Yoongi and Seokjin.
“No, he’s not one of them,” she replied, Judy chuckling once again.
“Stubborn, I remember that from the card I pulled for him.”
“Oh, not to change the subject, but speaking of Namjoon– my wolf hybrid, I mean,” Y/N joined Judy at the counter with the empty cardboard box from the kitchen, chewing her lip. “He’s interested in coming to work with me a few times a week. Would it be okay if I bring him next time I’m here?”
Judy helped her break down the cardboard box, nodding enthusiastically.
“That would be wonderful! We won’t have to haul in these crystal boxes anymore and break our backs. I take it he’s interested in your practice?”
“I think he just likes to get out of the house, and he’s a big reader. Honestly it’s our book collection here that interests him, most likely,” Y/N glanced at her watch, noting that it was time for her lunch break, mouth watering at the thought of Yoongi’s chicken. “He’ll be happy you said yes, thank you so much!”
Judy waved her off like ‘no problem’ heading to the back room. Typically, around lunch, Judy would leave Y/N at the shop and head home if she had no scheduled readings. According to the books, there was no one scheduled for services, so it was likely Judy was on her way out and Y/N would have to lock up later. Humming as she unpacked her lunch, she shot Namjoon a text.
Y/N: Judy says you can come to work with me whenever you want! 🥳
Joonie 🐺: Thanks for asking, I’ll come with you next week.
Namjoon wasn’t much of a texter, so she left it at that, grinning at her lockscreen as she closed it. She tended to rotate wallpapers, but currently, it was the picture of Jimin and Seokjin laughing at Hoseok being chased around by Bandit the rooster. Every time she saw it, it made her snort, her heart warming. Y/N flinched when she got a notification from her banking app, her direct deposit hitting her admittedly semi-drained account. Sighing with relief, as she had spent quite a bit of money on Hoseok’s upcoming birthday, she thought it was all worth it when she glanced at his smiling face on her lockscreen.
“We should go on a date,” Seokjin had his arms wrapped around her waist from behind while she was folding some laundry in her room, his tail winding around her leg and lips in her ear. She dropped the tank top she was holding in surprise, craning her neck so she could look at him.
“You wanna take me on a date, Seokjinnie?” Y/N cooed, prodding at his cheek teasingly. “Where do you want to go, honey?”
Seokjin pursed his lips as he thought, nestling his chin in the crook of her neck. Nearly swooning at how affectionate he had become in just two days, she felt his steady heartbeat flush against her back.
“We don’t even have to go anywhere, pretty. We can stay here, just do something special, the two of us,” Seokjin replied, her cheeks aflame when he called her pretty, but Y/N was reminded of Seokjin’s slight distaste for traveling, so she got what he was trying to say.
“I like the sound of that,” Y/N resumed folding her tank top, already cooking up some ideas for an at-home date for the two of them. “How about next Friday, the 24th. I’ll plan something for the two of us, okay?”
“Mmm,” Seokjin agreed, kissing her temple, regretfully pulling away from her and reaching for the laundry basket to help her out. “Only if you let me plan some things of my own for that night.”
“Of course, love,” Y/N giggled, but her laughter was cut short once she glanced at the jaguar hybrid, who was currently folding a pair of her lacy panties. “Oh my god. Let me fold that!”
Snatching the thong away from him, Y/N wanted to throw up from humiliation, but all Seokjin did was snort, retrieving another pair of panties from the laundry basket– to her mortification.
“You’re acting like I’ve never seen these before. Pretty, don’t you know that we’ve all been folding your underwear for months each time we have laundry duty?” Seokjin was ever so nonchalant, Y/N stupidly realizing that her panties didn’t magically appear in her dresser, when she wasn’t the one to pull them out of the dryer.
“Oh my god,” Y/N face-planted into her mattress, the realization like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.
She pictured smug Jeongguk in the laundry room, hanging up one of her skimpy bralettes, or worse, utility-grade sports bras on the drying rack, nearly curling into herself in shame. Seokjin patted her back, barely containing his laughter, but all that did was make Y/N want to hide in a hole even more.
“Y/N, you wash our underwear every week, fold it, too. You bought us underwear, you know what they look like. Don’t be so embarrassed,” Seokjin hauled Y/N up by her elbows, clear humor written all over his face, Y/N unsure whether or not she enjoyed it when he teased her so much. “Ooh. I like these ones.”
Seokjin dangled a pair of baby pink panties in front of her face with his forefinger and thumb, the pair with a tiny bow on the waistline, the fabric a mixture of cotton and lace. Absolutely scandalized, Y/N felt both involuntary arousal and annoyance strike through her.
“Okay, now you’re fucking with me,” Y/N bat his hand out of her face, Seokjin’s squeaky laughter filling the room noisily. “Don’t be pervy, Seokjin. It doesn’t suit you!”
“Oh, no?” Seokjin cocked his head, his sleek black ears fluttering as his expression turned sly. “Shame…”
Y/N swore Seokjin’s eyes darkened, and she wondered what he meant by that, hurriedly grabbing her underwear from him and stuffing the garment into her dresser. She heard Seokjin snicker, but he mercifully stopped teasing her, moving on to fold a pair of her pajamas instead, biting his lip.
“Um, so what should we have for dinner tonight?” Y/N changed the subject, trying to block out sudden lewd thoughts surrounding her and Seokjin, her movements jittery.
Seokjin looked like he wanted her for dinner that night, but he managed to compose himself with his gorgeous smile, tucking her pajamas into her drawer beside her. She mentally dared him to make the innuendo that was no doubt floating around his head, but Seokjin didn’t– Y/N hardly knew if she was relieved or disappointed.
“Well, we got those steaks in the fridge Yoongi picked up from the butcher’s shop. Didn’t you show me a recipe for steak with some kind of bourbon sauce?”
“Oh, yeah, I could go for that,” Y/N’s mouth watered, already picturing her plate filled with meat, smashed potatoes, and maybe some crispy green beans.
Seokjin purred, closing up her dresser. Turning, Seokjin reached for her chin, Y/N’s heart pounding harshly in her chest, the jaguar hybrid looking down at her through his eyelashes. Tilting her face up, Seokjin’s hold on her firm but delicate, and involuntarily, her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips while Seokjin’s eyes narrowed as he followed the movement. She was staring at his mouth in a daze, saying huh when he spoke again, not hearing him the first time.
“I said, pretty,” Seokjin’s thumb pressed on her lower lip, his voice lilting and spellbinding like a siren. “If we make that, take it easy on the bourbon, okay? You got sick last time Jimin brought out the whiskey.”
“I forgot about that,” Y/N responded quietly, blush settling over her cheeks when she remembered how Seokjin had to hold her hair back while she spilled her guts into the toilet after one glass, his free hand soothingly rubbing her back when she heaved over the porcelain bowl. “Emb-barassing. At least you still loved me after that, hurling and crying hysterically… what a mess.”
“Hmm…” Seokjin strengthened the hold he had on her chin, his expression a combination of playfulness and reapproach, making her gut tighten. “What do you humans say when you get married? ‘In sickness and in health’?”
Jaw hanging loose, still not used to how deeply Seokjin felt for her, and she was at a loss as to what to say. Appearing smug, Seokjin kissed her forehead softly, continuing to speak when she had no reply.
“Remember, you took care of my fever when you adopted me? I was returning that gesture!”
“I love you,” was all Y/N could think of in response, feeling his tail wind around her waist sensually, Y/N leaning forward and up, capturing his lips in a surprise kiss, Seokjin freezing for a moment before he parted his mouth slightly, kissing her lower lip sweetly.
Seokjin had yet to kiss her in a way that was, well, more heated, but she loved the chaste, adoring kisses that he did offer her infinitely. She whimpered against his mouth when one of his hands landed on her lower back, pulling her closer into his embrace. Seokjin made his own noise of pleasure in response, one that had her stomach flipping over. Before she could deepen their kiss, like always, Seokjin pulled away, his pillowy lips shiny and red. Releasing the hold she had on him– fists curled into the material of his sweater, she pouted at the loss of contact, but Seokjin simply snorted through his nose and shook his head, his eyes sparkling.
“Let’s go, we still have to switch over the laundry before starting on dinner,” Seokjin let go of her, Y/N blinking away her desire, her pout growing deeper.
“Ugh, my muscles are sore. I don’t wanna go back upstairs,” Y/N complained, watching Seokjin scoop up the empty laundry basket, his face becoming contemplative as he assessed her, before he set the basket down again. “Judy had me schlepping in 30 pound boxes of crystals into the store all week.”
“Here, then,” Seokjin turned, bending slightly, motioning for her to get on his back with a cheeky grin. “I’ll carry you up.”
Normally, Y/N would have been embarrassed to take Seokjin up on the offer, but childlike glee welled up in herself instead– not even hesitating to jump on him with a giggle. Seokjin straightened up, adjusting his steady hold around the backs of her knees, giving her a piggyback ride up the stairs to the laundry room happily. Arms draped around her jaguar hybrid’s neck, elated, she indulged in a desire she had been holding onto for months– and planted a kiss on the side of his strong neck, Seokjin shivering beneath her.
Y/N watched Jeongguk lift a heavy box of gadgets into Namjoon’s van, the elk hybrid grunting with the weight of it, Y/N clicking her tongue at him. It may had had been a mistake to give him a bottomless budget to go crazy on ordering equipment, because he had enough of it to film an episode of Ghost Adventures and put Zak Bagans to shame. She supposed, however, that it made him happy and less bratty, and with just two days until the scheduled investigation, she noticed the elated difference in Jeongguk’s attitude.
“So,” Y/N began, hoping that the fact that he had a brand new set of electronics to mess with would loosen him up. “Hoseok’s birthday tonight. We’re all going to go out together, right?”
“Do I really have to spend the evening in a sweaty nightclub with a bunch of drunk and horny humans?” Jeongguk peered over his shoulder with a grimace, scratching one of his tapered ears.
“I spent almost a grand on a fucking table for eight, so yeah, you need to suck it up and put your leather pants on,” Y/N snapped, Jeongguk spinning around and staring at her with shock and contempt. “Seokjin doesn’t like loud noises or crowds and he still agreed to go for Hoseok.”
“Jesus wept, fine,” Jeongguk put his hands up, dark eyes round.
“You’ll have fun. Get wasted and listen to music, two of your favorite things to do,” Y/N soothed, smirking. Jeongguk rolled his eyes, returning to his task, fiddling with some kind of EMF detector that probably burnt a hole into her already slimmed-down wallet. “Where’s Joon?”
“Am I the wolf’s keeper or something?” Jeongguk raised his pierced brow, leaning his hip against the van and humming at the growing annoyance Y/N was feeling towards him. “Check the stable, he wanted to go for a walk, mentioned needing to talk to the coyote. Satisfied, kiddo?”
Muttering, she stormed away from him, peeved that he was laughing heartily at her tantrum. She wanted to similarly check in on Namjoon, who had yet to give a response to the idea of taking a limo and spending their Saturday night in a club for Hoseok. Positive that Namjoon had never stepped foot in a place like the club she had booked, she wanted to show him a few pictures so he’d have an idea of what he’d be walking into.
A couple of weeks prior, she cornered Hoseok, hugging him around his waist and refusing to let go until he picked out what he wanted to do for his birthday. Finally, he agreed to go out to the club, his cheeks red with embarrassment, but Y/N was relieved he told her so she could book a table in advance. The fox hybrid, the morning of his birthday, went out for his long-distance Saturday run, so she didn’t get to see much of him during the afternoon. No doubt, before they left, Hoseok would spend quite a bit of time getting showered and dressed for the occasion.
Wrapping her coat more tightly around her body, she had the stable in sight, the sound of chickens clucking within their coop, a layer of snow collected on the roof of the building. It was likely that Namjoon and Jimin heard and smelled her approach, but she hoped that she caught them off-guard, secretly. Those two particular hybrids were friendly towards each other, but it struck her as odd that Namjoon would have something in specific to discuss with the coyote hybrid.
Pausing by the stable door and peering around it cautiously, she spotted Jimin kneeling besides what appeared to be the early stages of the garden bed constructions, sawdust covering his jeans while he pointed at something. Neither of them glanced her way, Namjoon standing with his back to her, his arms crossed over his chest. Straining her ears, she was able to eavesdrop, astounded that neither of them caught her scent yet.
“–yeah, this smaller one here is for herbs, if that’s what you mean,” Jimin was saying, his sandy tail swishing against the ground.
“Do you think it’s big enough?” Namjoon had skepticism painting his tone.
“Why, you don’t think so? Y/N wanted a small one for cooking herbs,” Jimin was chewing on his lip, light eyebrows pulled together.
“Can you do another medium-sized one? I’ve been doing some research on the types of herbs she’d be able to grow during the summer in this area, there’s quite a few. That way she’ll have a bigger variety for her practice, and we can keep the culinary herbs separate,” Namjoon requested, Y/N clasping a hand over her mouth, blown away that Namjoon would do something so nice for her without her knowing.
“Yeah, I can do that, I have enough extra plywood,” Jimin seemed just as stunned as Y/N, his yellow eyes wide, straightening up and sticking his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. “You’re going tonight, right?”
“You think I’m going to let Y/N waltz into a nightclub without me? Human men are fucking disgusting. She needs us all,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N feeling like her head was swimming. “Besides the humans, drugging and assaulting each other, Hoseok is going to cut loose, so will some of the others, so it’s important someone stays relatively sober. That’s why I’m mad at the kid right now, not wanting to tag along.”
“You mean Jeongguk? I think he’ll go, too. He seems like a tough son of a bitch, but he thinks similarly to you. Isn’t that why you’re close? Isn’t that why he was the only one able to calm you down… that night?”
Namjoon’s chest rumbled, his ears turning downwards at the mention of the night he and Taehyung had their altercation.
“I don’t like to think of that night,” Namjoon replied quietly, the constant sway of his tail stilling somberly. “Regardless, I don’t give a shit how Jeongguk feels, I don’t care if I have to drag him by his antlers to the club. He’s going.”
“Y/N spent a lot of money on Hoseok for this,” Jimin scratched his chin sympathetically, strolling to the stack of plywood, his steel-toed boots echoing around the lofty stable. “If he doesn’t go, he’ll make a lot of new enemies around here.”
“Dramatic phrasing,” Namjoon snickered, though as he moved for the first time Y/N had been spying on them, his mouth was in a thin line, evidently agreeing with Jimin. “I wouldn’t say enemies, but between Yoongi, the bear, and Seokjin, grudges would be made.”
Jimin made a noncommittal noise of agreement, Y/N beginning to feel guilty for eavesdropping, and her head was about to explode from the apparent concern Namjoon and Jimin had for her. Y/N was so wrapped up in her own feelings and care for the boys, she forgot to realize that they might hold her well-being in high regard as well.
Backing up a few steps as quietly as she could, she made some clumsy human noises, skipping into the stable like she hadn’t heard anything. She was proud of herself for not giving herself away with a lovestruck look plastered on her face, the fur on Namjoon’s tail standing on end when she barreled into the building, the tips of his ears turning red.
“Hi guys, whatcha up to?” Y/N asked innocently, Jimin blinking and dropping the piece of plywood he was holding.
“Just talking about the garden beds,” Namjoon recovered smoothly, in stark contrast to Jimin’s attempts to seem nonchalant. “What time are we leaving tonight?”
“Ooh, Joonie, you’re going to come?” Y/N continued to play stupid, leaning on one of the empty horse stalls, one that Jimin kept a surplus of hay in. “I think we’ll leave around 9:30. The club doesn’t open until 10 anyways. Jimin, you’ll come too, sweetheart?”
Jimin’s cheeks turned pink, nervously brushing sawdust from his jeans, nodding. It was somewhat hilarious to watch the two of them pretend they weren’t just talking about her, and Y/N wasn’t about to embarrass them by revealing she had been listening on, so she feigned normalcy by picking imaginary lint off of her pink sherpa coat.
“Of course, Y/N,” Jimin blurted, using the toe of his boot to push the plywood he dropped away, one hand gliding through his golden hair. “Wouldn’t miss it!”
Thankfully, once Y/N was able to find Jimin after Seokjin’s declaration the following day when she came home from work, the coyote hybrid had acted totally normal. Having a sneaking suspicion that like Taehyung, and even Seokjin himself, Jimin was a little bit avoidant, she decided if he was going to pretend nothing was different, so would she.
“How are we getting there?” Namjoon cleared his throat, stalking up to her side.
“I ordered a limo. Just about the only vehicle that can get us somewhere all together,” Y/N smirked, Namjoon cocking his head in confusion. Often, she forgot Namjoon wasn’t familiar with things like that. “It’s like a shorter, longer version of your van, kind of. Bench seats and a fridge filled with champagne, and the driver is separated by a partition.”
“Flashy,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N flicking off a clump of hay clinging to his forearm. “Matches the fox’s personality, I guess.”
“Oh, yeah. There’s a dress code, I figured you two should know that– no athletic wear. Just basic slacks and a nice shirt, essentially.”
“That eliminates half of Hoseok’s wardrobe,” Jimin piped up, his ears twitching when Y/N giggled.
“Yeah, but he cleans up well,” Y/N could hardly wait to see what Hoseok would pull out of his closet– she had zero doubts he’d look drop dead sexy. “Alright, good. Everyone’s on board! I’m gonna go shower and scrounge up something for dinner later.”
“Dress warmly, the temperature is going to drop later,” Namjoon called after her, a frown on his face.
“Can’t make any promises, Joonie,” Y/N sent a wink his way, missing the low growl rumbling through his chest, picturing the dress she had bought for the very occasion and sashaying away.
“She’s going to do as she pleases, isn’t she,” Namjoon muttered to Jimin, who was eyeing the way her hips swayed as she walked, but the wolf hybrid had a wry smile stretching across his face.
Y/N took the opportunity of going out for Hoseok’s birthday to pull out all the stops appearance-wise, and she had to admit to herself, she was doing too well at it. Her makeup was dark and sultry, hair done to utter perfection, and the dress. She saw a picture of it online and bought it so fast she thought her computer was going to catch on fire. Taking a look at herself in the full-length mirror, she admired how lethal her figure looked in the short bodycon dress, legs on display, the off-the-shoulder cut of the neckline showing off the choker Namjoon gave her for Christmas. She was in the middle of strapping her heels around her ankles when a knock came on her door tentatively. Y/N guessed it might have been Taehyung, due to the hesitant sound of the knuckles against the wood.
Heels clicking against the hardwood, she reached the door, taking a deep breath, nervously wondering what Taehyung would think of her outfit– she had never worn something so revealing around the boys and it had her hands shaking on the doorknob. Throwing it open, Taehyung’s sandalwood cologne hit her smack in the face, his carmine eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he saw her. Unable to help himself, his gaze lowered, staring at the way the material of her dress clung to every curve, his lips parting.
“What’s up, Tae?” Y/N blurted, dazzled by his appearance, his dark curls pushed off of his forehead, a silky white button-down with pearls making up the buttons, and straight-leg slacks. Her eyes lingered on the thin gold chain around his throat, her gift to him from Christmas, too bashful to make eye contact all of a sudden.
“The… the car, the car’s here,” Taehyung was dazed, eyes glued to her legs, Y/N’s mouth drying up. “That’s what you’re wearing?”
“Uh, yeah, why? You don’t like it?” Y/N felt her face fall, Taehyung’s throat bobbing when he swallowed urgently, shaking his head.
“N-no, it’s fine,” Taehyung’s strained voice had color pooling in her cheeks, blindly reaching behind her so she could grab her clutch. “I’ll get your coat.”
Taehyung darted away, smoke pretty much coming off of his heels, leaving Y/N stunned. Perhaps she had gone a tad overboard with the sexy dress. That aside, his reaction had hope blooming in her chest; if that was his heated reaction to the way she looked, could it be possible that had at least a semblance of an attraction towards her? Squaring her shoulders at the thought, she marched out into the hall confidently, and when she reached the foyer, most of her boys were hanging out around the stairwell, except for Taehyung, who appeared to be fishing around in the coat closet with stiff posture.
Similar to how they reacted at the cookout when she came out in her sundress, silence swept over the room with her arrival. Jimin’s face was so red she could probably fry an egg on one of his cheeks. Even usually-composed Yoongi’s eyes had gone round, dropping the sports jacket he was holding. Giving her a once over, licking his lips, Yoongi chuckled softly and shook his head.
“Ready to go? Where’s Hoseok?” Y/N was hoping she wasn’t reading smug, Seokjin frowning when he poked his head around Jeongguk’s frame, heat in his gaze but disapproval mixing with it.
“Getting shit from the kitchen,” Jeongguk answered blandly, picking his nails. He tried to be nonchalant, but she caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
“Y/N, it’s really cold outside,” Seokjin narrowed his eyes at her bare legs, adjusting the collar of his black oxford shirt, a few of the buttons undone.
“I know, that’s why my arms are covered,” retorted, gesturing to the long sleeves of the dress. “We won’t be outside for long, anyways, and it gets hot in those clubs.”
Seokjin was entirely unconvinced, watching Taehyung emerge from the coat closet, handing Y/N her longest, thickest coat, barely looking at her while she snickered at his selection. Shrugging it on, aware of all of the attention on herself– and for once, she enjoyed it thoroughly.
“Alright! Got the champagne! Y/N darling, shall we?” Hoseok waltzed in from the kitchen looking all kinds of delicious, in a white suit and a blue silky shirt, a bottle of Moet in one of his hands, using a free one to hook around her elbow and tow her to the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up, wolf!”
Namjoon, waiting by the door, eyeing Y/N’s neck and the choker encircling it, jingled the keys to the house in his fist, and waited for everyone to follow her and Hoseok to the limo waiting outside before he locked up.
Yoongi made it to her free side with a smirk on his face, Y/N admiring the way he styled his long hair. Hoseok was the first one inside of the limo while Yoongi held Y/N’s hand as she slid in herself, brushing a kiss on the back of it.
“You look gorgeous,” Yoongi said proudly, sitting beside her, Y/N nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “Gonna have to keep my eye on you tonight.”
Hoseok had brought their portable speaker, already jacking up the volume on a rap playlist, grinning wickedly as the rest of the hybrids climbed into the limo. Jeongguk had to pay particular attention to his antlers so he wouldn’t knock them against the ceiling, slouching low on the bench he was on. It was hard not to laugh at his grouchiness as he held onto a champagne flute with a fist, though his saving grace were the leather pants he did indeed put on, highlighting his muscular thighs.
Last one into the limo was Namjoon, cramming himself in between Jeongguk and Seokjin, the latter of which was directly across from Y/N, his expression more feline than ever, Y/N squirming in her seat under the weight of his gaze. To distract herself, she turned to Hoseok, clinking her glass with his, the fox hybrid pinching her cheek happily.
“Happy birthday Hoseok!” Y/N cheered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for a brief side-hug, careful to not spill her drink on his crisp white sports jacket when the limo started to pull out of the driveway.
Leaning into her playfully, Hoseok turned up the speaker even louder, Y/N enjoying watching her hybrids loosen up, champagne in hands, and looking forward to a new experience. With Seokjin looking at her like that, however, she didn’t know if she’d make it through the night without pushing him against a wall.
Music pulsing from the speakers, Y/N already armed with a cocktail, she once again thought that the hefty price tag on the table she bought was worth it when she sunk into the cushy booth with satisfaction. The club, called “The Grand Boston”, was decorated lavishly, had an enormous bar, and was lit up brilliantly. Besides her own hybrids, several of which were ordering drinks at the bar, Y/N was surprised to see others milling around with their humans, which was relieving– not as many eyes on her and the fact that she had seven of them with her.
“Wanna order a bottle? They have Casamigos, your favorite,” Y/N spoke loudly over the music to her fox hybrid, who was in the middle of taking a shot, his face screwing up as he shoved a lime between his teeth.
“Nah, they jack up the prices, we can just get a few rounds of shots,” Hoseok replied after a moment, smirking at Jimin sliding into the booth, tumbler of whiskey in his hand.
“I mean, we might as well get bottle service, Foxy. It’s your birthday and we have this table,” Y/N rolled her eyes, flagging down someone to order the liquor.
“Oooh, pulling out all the stops for me?” Hoseok teased, flashing her a stunning smile, motioning for Seokjin to join them when the jaguar hybrid returned from the bar with his cocktail, and due to the warm temperature of the club, he had pulled another button loose on his shirt.
With more of his collar bones exposed, Y/N’s mouth involuntarily watered, and to cover it up she immediately poured herself a shot and downed it expertly. Somehow, she felt bad that she was having such thirsty thoughts about sweet Seokjin. Completely oblivious, he placed his arm around her shoulders, offering her a sip of the Moscow mule, angling the black straw to her lips. Then again, the spark in his eye as her lips wrapped around the straw told a different story, one that had the blood boiling in her veins.
“Um, the others?” Y/N broke the trance she was in, addressing Jimin. She could see Jeongguk by the bar, forearms leaning against the counter, Namjoon beside him, both of them in deep conversation that probably surrounded their upcoming investigation on Monday.
“They’re around. Don’t worry, Y/N, they won’t leave without you,” Jimin read her mind, knocking back his drink and watching people head towards the dance floor.
“Alright. Plan is to get wasted and go dance,” Hoseok began lining up shots, Seokjin snorting beside her. “Don’t laugh at me on my birthday, Jinnie. Here. Cheers!”
Y/N watched, praying she wasn’t being creepy, as Seokjin sprinkled salt on the back of his hand, swiping his tongue over the skin, before he hastily took the shot of tequila with a wince, Y/N hurriedly handing him a lime to suck on.
After a couple of rounds of shots, Y/N already feeling the liquor loosen her up and ready to dance, Yoongi joined them with his glass of Hennessy, refusing to touch the Casamigos.
“I can’t do tequila, Foxy. Makes me sick to my fuckin’ stomach,” Yoongi frowned when Hoseok slid the shot glass towards him, Seokjin taking it instead. Jimin, at least, participated, his face getting redder by the minute with all the booze.
“Come on, let’s dance,” Y/N stood, miraculously stable on her heels, hands extended for someone, anyone, to take them, and at once, Hoseok leapt to his feet, palm sliding into hers, motioning for Seokjin to take her free one.
Seokjin got up, somehow handling all of the tequila incredibly well, Y/N giggling as her fox and jaguar hybrids began to lead her to the dance floor.
“I’ll stay here and watch,” Yoongi’s sly expression ticked her off, giving her a once-over from behind his glass. Jimin was off to the bathroom and to refresh his whiskey, Y/N thinking it was likely his last round before he totally blacked out.
Led by Hoseok, who had long since ditched his sports jacket, they weaved through the crowd, Y/N suddenly remembered Seokjin’s aversion to seas of people. Casting him a worried look over her shoulder, Seokjin mouthed ‘I’m fine’, the grip he had on her left hand tightening. She caught something out of the corner of her eye, an extremely sparkly dress a young woman was wearing.
Trying to get a better look at the shimmering fabric, she paused– the woman was apparently flirting with someone, someone Y/N recognized immediately even if it was just the back of his head. Taehyung, who she hadn’t seen since they stopped by the coat check, was talking to a random girl, something that Y/N assumed the Kodiak hybrid would be way too shy to do. Mouth hanging open, drunken jealousy surging through her as she realized Taehyung could sense her presence via scent and didn’t even turn to look at her, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he responded to something the woman said. Again, Seokjin squeezed her hand, spinning the two of them slightly so their backs were to Taehyung, Y/N grateful for Seokjin’s keen perceptivity and consideration.
Facing Hoseok, who finally found a good place in the center of the club, far enough away from the speakers that would blow their eardrums out, Y/N shook away remaining jealousy and focused on the fox hybrid instead, who was doing some kind of silly dance to get her attention. The little number he was doing was in stark contrast to how sexy he looked, his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, eyes slightly lidded from the shots, ears drooping.
“Let’s see what you two got,” Hoseok shouted over the music, and Y/N would have been hesitant if it weren’t for the tequila, but she found herself mirroring Hoseok’s swaying movements, a confident smile on his face. “Come on, Jinnie, weren’t you an acrobat? You must have some moves!”
Y/N shuddered when Seokjin’s chest was suddenly pressed to her back, simply holding her hips while she rolled them, her cheeks on fire while Hoseok cackled, clocking the fluster all over Y/N’s face. It was then, she decided fuck it, both presssing her hips backwards into Seokjin and pulling Hoseok to her by the collar of his shirt, winding her arms around his neck. Seokjin grunted deeply into her ear, his lips grazing the shell of it, while all smug attitude was knocked out of Hoseok in a blink.
“Out of wisecracks? Dance with me,” Y/N challenged, something flashing dangerously in the fox hybrid’s eyes before his hands were on her waist, copying the movements she made, but careful not to collide his hips into hers.
Ben always used to warn her to stay away from the tequila, as she tended to get frisky with a few shots of it coursing through her system, but she didn’t care that night. Not when Seokjin’s grip on her hips was firm, letting her essentially grind backwards into him, and Hoseok was looking at her differently for the first time, the way he moved graceful and precise. The world seemed to fall away into neon lights, hypnotic music, and the two hybrids that she was sandwiched between, Y/N really letting loose by letting her head loll back onto Seokjin’s chest, eyes slipping shut. She was too tipsy to be embarrassed about her behavior, and judging by the dark purrs from behind her and the mirth returning to her fox hybrid’s eyes, the two of them were freely enjoying themselves as well.
“Wanna take another shot,” Y/N murmured after a while, pouting when Hoseok pulled away in favor of watching the light show, his tail swishing, though Seokjin still held her to his chest, his nose tucked into the base of her throat.
“I think you’re good, pretty,” Seokjin replied, squeezing her hips and turning her around, his palms gliding up to cup her waist, the thin material of her dress doing nothing to hide her shape nor the way his touch burned her deliciously. “Don’t want to overdo it now, right?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning up, stamping a kiss on his exposed collarbone in hopes that it would butter him up. His skin was dewy with sweat, Y/N wanting to eat him alive, but she released her hold of his wide shoulders so she could make her way back to the table, and further, the bottle.
“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice had a sharpened edge of warning to it, following closely behind, navigating through the tipsy crowd. Fortunately, she didn’t come across Taehyung and that girl, but when she remembered the interaction, it only strengthened her desire to hightail it to the table.
“Judas priest, kiddo,” Jeongguk was lazily reclined in the booth, his feet kicked up on one of the tables like he owned the joint, eyes roaming over her flushed skin, mussed hair, and the scent of alcohol coming off of her like a bar floor. “That’s not a good idea–”
Before any of the hybrids could get to her, including Yoongi who lurched forward to snatch the shot glass away and Jimin’s noises of alarm, Y/N had already poured the shot down her throat, not even feeling the burn of the liquor, batting Yoongi’s hands away when he tried to take the glass.
“Alright, sweetheart, that’s enough,” Yoongi scolded, pushing the bottle of tequila towards Jimin, who swiftly tucked it behind him with a worried look. “You’re going to be sick tomorrow.”
“So? I’m celebrating!” Y/N frowned, booping Yoongi’s nose. She wasn’t even slurring, for Christ’s sake, and she could still walk in her heels perfectly. “You’re all being worrywarts, I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you sit for a minute, I’ll have the server bring some snacks around,” Yoongi maneuvered Y/N into the booth, her grumbling the entire time, squirming next to Jeongguk. Seokjin went with Yoongi, both of them moving urgently.
“Fussy babies,” Y/N muttered, scanning the room for Hoseok, Namjoon, and Taehyung, crossing her legs and massaging her sore ankles. “I can hold my liquor.”
“Sometimes,” Jeongguk replied sarcastically, barely looking up from his phone, his fingertips flying over the keyboard. “It’s almost 2 AM. We should go soon, before the club closes.”
“Aw, but did you even get to dance? How about you, Jimin?” Y/N lamented, Hoseok returning from the dance floor, sweat slicking up his forehead when he pushed his damp hair back, a swagger in his step.
“Do I look like I dance, kiddo?” Jeongguk scoffed, draining his glass, setting his phone aside. “Time to head out, fox.”
“Yeah, the crowd is dwindling anyways. I’m ready to raid the fridge and pass out,” Hoseok grabbed his jacket that was slung over the booth, Jimin excusing himself to pay the tab and look for Taehyung.
“We can have some of your birthday cake!” Y/N exclaimed, suddenly less disappointed about going home if it meant she could have something sugary. “Awh, where’s Joon bug? He’ll want some cake too, I wanna tell him!”
“12 ‘o clock, darling,” Hoseok pointed beyond her shoulder, Namjoon trudging back to the booth with his jean jacket pulled around him, Y/N’s coat in his hands. Surprisingly, he seemed like the most sober of the bunch, offering her her coat with purpose.
“I talked to the driver outside, he’s ready when we are,” Namjoon announced, Y/N struggling to shrug her coat on while sitting down, Jeongguk clicking his tongue and helping her right arm through the sleeve.
“What about Tae, though?” To her embarrassment, Y/N’s head began to feel like it was floating, that last shot definitely a mistake like Jeongguk had said, as much as she hated to admit it. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she barely reacted when Yoongi dropped a bag of mini pretzels in her lap, stomach turning at the thought of chewing.
“Already outside, Y/N. Can you walk?” Namjoon made a motion for the rest of the hybrids to start heading towards the door with authority, Seokjin kissing the top of her head before he made sure Hoseok was going in the right direction.
“Yesss, I can walk, Joonie,” Y/N grouched, hauling herself to her feet, but unfortunately, her knees buckled. Cursing, Namjoon caught her swiftly before she could collapse on the floor, strong arms supporting her weight, Y/N limp.
“That’s a no, then,” Namjoon sighed, bending his knees, slinging Y/N over his shoulder in one smooth movement. Y/N squealed, scrabbling for a hold on the back of his jacket and staring at the floor, thankfully not getting violently nauseous as her world was turned upside-down and the wolf hybrid started walking. “Thank god I’m here. I hope you didn’t party like this in college, Y/N, it’s dangerous.”
“I’m currently b-breathing, aren’t I, Joon? Put me down, I’m embarrassed,” Y/N whined, whacking his back with her palms. Namjoon, however, was known to be unyielding. He promptly ignored her complaints, her strikes against his muscled back useless and truthfully, pathetic.
“I don’t know why you insisted on wearing those shoes. Your ankles are swelling,” Namjoon grunted, her heated face meeting some relief in the icy night air, the sounds of drunk clubgoers up and down the sidewalk. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”
“And you’re not, Namjoon?” Y/N squawked, astonished. However, Namjoon chuckled quietly, finally setting her down in front of the waiting limo, one broad palm on her lower back to help keep her upright while climbing in.
“Never claimed I wasn’t,” Namjoon replied offhand, clambering in behind her, the rest of the boys in various states of intoxication and exhaustion. “Are there sick bags in here?”
Namjoon was speaking to Yoongi, who was apparently the only one sober enough to have spatial awareness, even Jeongguk nodding off in the far end of the limo, the leopard hybrid waving a paper bag in front of Namjoon’s face. Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin were cracking open another bottle of champagne, while Taehyung was busy on his phone, presumably texting; Y/N dreaded to know exactly who.
“I’m not going to get sick, dad,” Y/N poked Namjoon in the bicep, peeved, the wolf hybrid choking on the sip of water he had taken, his fist pounding on his chest to clear the liquid from his lungs. Not expecting that reaction, Y/N felt laughter bubbling up in her throat, poking him again before setting her sights on Yoongi.
“What’s with that look?” Yoongi asked suspiciously, Y/N biting her lip, clumsily pouncing on him, sitting on one of his thighs and giving him a sloppy smooch on his cheek. “Oh boy. No more Casamigos for you, ever.”
“Angel, my feet hurt,” Y/N’s vision was fuzzy, supported by Yoongi’s arm around her back, the leopard hybrid letting her bury her face in his shirt, breathing in his familiar sweet scent, his tail caressing her bare calves.
Without asking, Yoongi exhaled, gripping one of her ankles gingerly and unfastening the straps around them. Easing each shoe off her foot as carefully as he could, Yoongi placed them in between him and Taehyung, who paused his texting to assess the spectacle. The Kodiak hybrid’s eyes lingered on the way Yoongi was prodding lightly around her swelling ankles to release pressure, but when he caught Y/N staring back at him, he returned to his phone with his tongue in his cheek.
Petulance took over, so instead of letting Taehyung’s iciness bother her, she focused on Yoongi’s touch, sighing blissfully, his talented hands kneading into her sore muscles, purring softly behind her. She was half asleep when something dawned on her, shooting straight up from Yoongi’s lap with an exclamation, looking around frantically for her clutch.
“Looking for this?” Namjoon held it up, his eyebrows raised, sucking in his cheeks.
Making grabby hands for it, Y/N thanked him quietly for keeping an eye on all of her things, before she clumsily maneuvered to the back of the limo where Hoseok was. Jeongguk was still drowsily trying to stay awake, his head bobbing, but Jimin had passed out finally. Hoseok and Seokjin switched to water, luckily, so when she took a seat beside her fox hybrid, he was a touch more sober than he was 15 minutes prior.
“How are you doing, darling?” Hoseok’s face was rounded out in sleep, content all over it.
“I forgot to give you this,” Y/N began digging around in her clutch, Hoseok sitting up a bit straighter and making a strange, fox-like noise in the back of his throat. “Seokjinnie got you something, remember, Jin?”
Seokjin had also apparently forgotten, blinking harshly. Finding the item at the bottom of the clutch, a tiny rectangular box, she opened it, handing Hoseok a silver bracelet, the chain link the exact same as the one Seokjin had on his ring. Seokjin had the adorable idea of getting them something that matched in some way, and Y/N had no problems letting the jaguar hybrid pick it out.
Hoseok was at a loss, holding the bracelet with his mouth open, Y/N stifling a laugh at his reaction. Seokjin shifted in his seat across from them, amused but also vulnerable.
“Jinnie, is this like a friendship bracelet?” Hoseok deadpanned, radiant joy coming off of him.
“Uh-huh. Happy birthday,” Seokjin broke out in a grin, Y/N’s heart warm with how sweet their close friendship was, Hoseok demanding the jaguar hybrid to clasp it around his wrist. “You two mean a lot to me.”
“Aw, Jinnie, you’re like my big brother,” Hoseok cooed, Seokjin rolling his eyes, but Y/N knew how profound those words were to Hoseok. The fox hybrid spent years in many places, never able to put down roots, much less make close friendships. “And you’re my little darling.”
Hoseok grabbed both of them, smushing themselves together for a group hug, Y/N finally releasing a hearty laugh that startled Jimin awake beside her, knowing that the tears slipping down her cheeks were tears of happiness.
After a brutal Sunday of recovering from the tequila binge, Y/N spending most of the day laying on the couch and watching reality TV with greasy pizza, she was well again on Monday, the day of the investigation. She had to drag Jeongguk to work with her that day, Namjoon of course itching to go without complaint. It was nice to have the two of them with her while she stocked inventory, Namjoon able to reach higher shelves and Jeongguk sorting through the Christian medallions in a way that made sense. While those two were more quiet than, say, Hoseok, there was still amiable conversation here and there. Y/N had a feeling Jeongguk, in particular, was gearing up for later that evening, gazing out the shop window every once in a while to stare at the van.
“Our plan is solid. I’ll handle the cameras, Namjoon is on the audio recording devices, and Y/N, I’m going to give you the EMF detector and communication devices, since you’re adept with sensing energies,” Jeongguk assured her and Namjoon, the sun beginning to go down as the three of them brought equipment into the Sanders’ home.
The family had left for the hotel that morning, and would be staying there until Y/N and the two hybrids could successfully banish the entity. The house was cold, and eerily quiet, and Y/N was grateful that she had black tourmaline necklaces for the three of them as an added layer of protection. While she was somewhat anxious about the investigation, there was immense comfort in having Namjoon and Jeongguk with her. Namjoon was protective, which became clearer to her by the day, and Jeongguk was nearly fearless.
“How long do you think the investigation will last?” Y/N questioned, wondering if it would be anything like what she had seen on television.
“However long it takes for us to get enough evidence,” Jeongguk shrugged, on his knees and setting up a tripod facing the hallway, where Erika mentioned seeing a shadow figure several times.
“Good thing we brought the Red Bull,” Y/N joked, placing a few clear quartz crystals around the living room, Namjoon on the couch with her laptop booting up the software they’d need for audio recording and reviewing footage. “You’re gonna teach me how to use these devices, right, sweets?”
“Obviously,” Jeongguk snorted, attaching one of the cameras to the tripod. “It’s straightforward though, not many buttons to press. Then you can ask your questions you wrote down. Namjoon will be right beside you, recording audio.”
Jeongguk, dressed in all black, pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing those tattoos that Y/N never fully got a good look at. While he was prickly about explaining everything to Y/N, he did it thoroughly, and it was interesting to watch the elk hybrid drop into total concentration on a particular task. Y/N decided to take a walk through the small house, not sensing much on the first floor other than that odd feeling of being watched through the living room window. It was when she climbed the stairs to the three bedrooms where there was a chill rolling down her spine.
The master bedroom, where Erika slept– and her son, too, when he had his nightmares, had a sadness, a tense anxious feel to it. Putting selenite on all of the window sills, she stopped when she saw a photo sitting on Erika’s nightstand. It was the young mother, looking vibrant and happy in comparison to how nervous she was when Y/N met her. The young boy, too, was grinning without purplish circles under his eyes. Most noticeably different was the daughter, Julie, who was a few years younger and not wearing the gothic garb she had during their initial consultation. Sighing, she hoped that the family could be at ease again once her and the boys helped them.
Moving down the hall, hands coming up to rub her shivering arms, she peeked into the boy’s bedroom, nearly choking at the heaviness of the energy in there. Y/N refused to go in there without one of her hybrids with her. Nauseous, she tentatively made her way to the final bedroom, Julie’s.
The room was painted pink, but most of the walls were covered in pop punk posters. As for the energy, it was different from the solid wall of darkness in Tommy’s room, but it still made her feel sick and again, like someone was watching her. Visually sweeping the room as Jeongguk suggested, looking for any occultish items such as a Ouija board, but not actively going through the teenager’s stuff.
She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but she stiffened when an ice-cold draft filled the room, penetrating her body in a way that had her skin crawling. Dread filled her, resentment, and anger. Panicking, turning every which way to see if she could spot something physically manifesting, the thump-thump-thump against the walls returning. Whimpering, she sped out of the room, chest heaving, thundering down the stairs and startling Jeongguk, who was placing special lights around in the hallway.
Y/N smacked directly into his chest, quaking, clinging to his sweater for dear life and desperate to get rid of that supernatural coldness that pierced through her. Jeongguk grunted, letting her hide from the world in his sweater, his heart hammering steadily beneath her.
“What the fuck happened, are you okay?” Jeongguk’s hands were hesitant when he patted her on the back, but there was a clear alarm in his voice.
Namjoon’s clumsy, heavy tread was immediately thudding down the hall with urgency, Y/N releasing Jeongguk with embarrassment. Her reaction to that phenomena wasn’t exactly a great start to their investigation, establishing zero dominance over the entity, but she still couldn’t stop shaking. While Jeongguk was alarmed, Namjoon was calm, hands on her shoulders so he could duck his head and make eye-contact.
“Take a few deep breaths, Y/N,” Namjoon’s eyebrows were pinched, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly. “That’s it.”
After a couple of lungfuls of air, she was able to stop shaking underneath Namjoon’s palms, the wolf hybrid letting her go as soon as she calmed down. Both of them were waiting expectantly for her to relay what had happened, and Y/N felt like the presence was at the top of the stairs and watching them.
“I think we should focus on the second floor,” Y/N said weakly, Namjoon’s orange honey eyes shifting from her face to the stairs, his blank expression giving nothing away. If anything, it was nice to have the both of them there, confident and collected. “Especially in the children’s bedrooms. I didn’t go into the boy’s bedroom, the energy was too thick and without one of you–” I was too scared. “Something manifested in the teenager’s room, like an ice-cold draft that ran right through me. Then the knocking on the walls started up again.”
Jeongguk leaned a hip against the banister, making intense eye-contact with Y/N, like he was attempting to soak in every word with grave seriousness. Sucking his lip ring into his mouth, making an animalistic grunt, and with a nod, he agreed.
“So our key spots. The kid’s bedrooms, the window in the living room, and this hallway,” Jeongguk confirmed. “I’ll go upstairs and set up more equipment. Now that you have more of an idea of what the energy feels like up there, you should write down some more questions to ask later. You’ll be alright, center yourself.”
“Okay,” Y/N agreed, hoping she wasn’t being the weakest link. “You’re going to go up by yourself?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Jeongguk had said that before, but him saying that did absolutely nothing to prevent her from worrying anyway. “Let’s just finish setting up, and we’ll start recording when it’s dark out.”
She followed Namjoon like a lost duckling back into the living room, Y/N sitting beside him on the couch while he continued to boot up his software. Taking a moment, she centered herself, eyes shut, focusing on breathing and her connection to the Earth.
“Remember why we’re here,” Namjoon said softly when she opened her eyes again, most of her fear and anxiety dissolving after centering.
“For the family,” Y/N finished for him, Namjoon giving her knee a soft squeeze, his bitten ear flickering.
“Do the lights really have to be off? Y/N doesn’t have night vision,” Namjoon asked a quarter after midnight, all of his audio equipment prepped and ready, including his tapes on the coffee table– their “base”.
“I mean, if you want to be able to see anything on these full-spectrum cameras,” Jeongguk replied, promptly switching off the last lamp that offered Y/N vision in the house. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you kiddo?”
“If you have time to be an ass, you have time to get to work,” Y/N hissed, brushing by him with the device she had just learned how to use in her hand. That particular device, a “Spirit Box”, would fill the room with white noise, and somehow capture voices they couldn’t hear if the spirits responded to Y/N’s questions.
While she did that in front of a camera set up in front of the living room window, Jeongguk was using his handheld camcorder, taking temperatures around all of the spots in the house. Thankfully, Namjoon would stay with her, helping her make out any sounds or words they could potentially capture. Clearing her throat, she sat on the chair beneath the window, Namjoon just a few feet away on the couch, the low light of the laptop illuminating his face and making his eyes glow.
“I’m gonna take the temperatures upstairs,” Jeongguk’s voice was far away, probably already halfway to his destination, Y/N exhaling slowly as Namjoon gave her a thumbs-up; he had begun recording. She had already memorized her list of basic questions, so she switched the Spirit Box on, cringing at the gnashing sound echoing around the house.
“Is there anyone here that wishes to speak with us?” Y/N began, feeling a little foolish, but pushing down the feeling swiftly. All she heard in response was the white noise, unfortunately.
“What is your name?”
Nothing.
“How old are you?”
Nothing, again.
“Why are you here?”
Then, there was a disruption in the static, something garbly coming through, Y/N’s eyes lighting up as Namjoon began typing on the laptop.
“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”
Growing a little excited, now understanding why Jeongguk was so into these devices, the static was interrupted once more, a frightening but unintelligible response captured through the Spirit Box.
“Who lives here?”
Before Y/N could get too riled up, the rest of her questions received no response, so she and Namjoon elected to move into the hall, trading places with Jeongguk, who was taking pictures of the window and using thermal imaging on the area.
It continued like that for about two more hours, repeating the interview with Namjoon multiple times with the Spirit Box and the EMF detector, the wolf hybrid letting her hold his hand when they were in Tommy’s room. The sounds of the voice that did come through in that space were particularly bone-chilling and grating. The last room, Julie’s room, only yielded one response that was reedy and low, Y/N ready to get the fuck out of dodge as soon as the interview concluded.
Reconvening downstairs, Jeongguk was starting to pack up equipment, and thankfully, he turned on a light or two. He looked charged, like new life was breathed into him. Investigations such as that one must have been his life’s passion, because Y/N hadn’t seen him like that, well, ever. Her and Namjoon were silent as they helped the elk hybrid gather everything up, and while Namjoon seemed calm, she could tell he was on edge due to some of the audio they captured together.
“Get anything?” Jeongguk pushed the last box of cameras into Namjoon’s van, Y/N wilting with exhaustion and nerves, watching her wolf hybrid lock the front door of the Sanders’ house with stiff shoulders, tape recorder under his arm. “We’ll review everything, but I’m pretty sure I captured some anomalies.”
“We had a few responses. Namjoon said he’d put the audio in a program music producers use to try and clarify what we were able to catch. There is definitely more than one entity we’re working with here,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair tiredly.
“Hmm, you’re right,” Jeongguk let her get into the van first, Y/N buckling herself into the passenger seat, thanking the sky she had the next day off. It was nearly five in the morning, and her eyes were crossing. “You did well, Y/N.”
“You too, sweets. You were in your element, huh?”
“I guess,” Jeongguk sobered up, toning down his excitement, Namjoon getting into the driver’s seat heavily, passing a hand over his face.
“Let’s get out of here, I’m drained,” Namjoon pulled out of the driveway, Y/N’s teeth unclenching when he switched on some folksy music and they got away from the house.
“You two are going to need to take some baths when we get back, right away. With that salt I gave you, I don’t want the risk of anything clinging to us,” Y/N leaned her head back, hearing Jeongguk still tinkering away with an electronic in the back of the van.
Namjoon hummed, too tired to respond, but she knew he’d listen to her. Once she explained the importance of making sure they were all properly spiritually cleansed, he hadn’t had a single complaint obeying her requests to take salt baths or enduring Y/N waving rosemary smoke around him. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was a toss up.
All Y/N knew was that she wasn’t exactly eager to find out what the entities were saying to her. Judging by the nastiness of some of the voices they captured, she doubted it was anything friendly. Namjoon said he’d take care of the audio over the course of the week, and Jeongguk was going to comb through his videos, data, and photos as well. All Y/N had to do was sit with the energies she felt and perhaps come up with some kind of plan for cleansings and banishment. Trying to find the moon in the sky, Y/N counted street lights until they were back at their own home, and there was a collective breath of relief from the three of them when they were safe inside.
Before she knew it, it was the end of the week, the day she and Seokjin planned their date. Y/N had come up with something special to do with him during the evening, and she knew they weren’t going to be bothered, she made sure of it. With Namjoon and Jeongguk holed up in the van poring over their evidence still; Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok at the rec center for their clubs, and Jimin outside putting the garden beds together on the finally-thawing ground, they were pretty much by themselves. She was in Seokjin’s bedroom, the lamps dimmed low, and her jaguar hybrid was somewhere in the kitchen, claiming he was making something for them to snack on. Y/N didn’t tell Seokjin what her plan was for them, wanting a nice surprise, so as quickly as she could, she dumped the materials she needed on his neatly made bed.
There was an old white topsheet she found in the depths of one of the linen closets, Y/N shaking it out and tying it to tops of the front two bedposts. The fabric fell, making a large “screen” at the foot of the bed, and with that done in a pinch, she hooked up the mini projector she got on Amazon and stuck it on the shelf behind Seokjin’s headboard.
A cozy, quiet movie night was something she thought Seokjin would enjoy. Meaning to watch Lord of the Rings with him, she had the boxed CD set ready to go, even if they’d probably only get through one of the movies due to the length. Satisfied, she sped into his bathroom, changing into her pajamas– a pair of cotton shorts and a matching tank top. It was likely she’d end up sleeping next to Seokjin that night, so she decided she might as well get comfortable. She was tossing her clothes in his hamper when the sounds of the jaguar hybrid shuffling into his bedroom filled her ears, Y/N smiling at her reflection in his mirror and going out to meet him.
Seokjin, with a curious flicker to his ear, was staring at the sheet she hung, setting a tray down with various snacks and drinks, and of course, a few slabs of the bread he baked that morning. Skipping to his side, Seokjin whirled around, cheeks coloring with how little clothing she was wearing. Seokjin wasn’t a fan of the cold, so his room was always boiling with space heaters going, so she wasn’t about to wear flannel pajamas.
“Pretty, why’d you tie that sheet there?” Seokjin cleared his throat, adjusting his thin tee-shirt by the collar, averting his eyes.
“So we could watch a movie together, I got a projector online. Do you like the sound of that?” Y/N asked, a touch self consciously, sitting on his bed and looking at the tray he brought up. With a pounding heart, she realized most of the snacks he prepared were her favorites.
“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Seokjin insisted, knees landing on the bed softly, fluffing his pillows and moving the stuffed alpaca aside so he could sit against the headboard. “What do you wanna watch?”
“Well, all those months ago, I mentioned wanting to watch Lord of the Rings with you. How about that?”
Seokjin, his bright eyes widening, replayed the memory in his head– when he was recovering from his fever, the day Y/N adopted him, she had lent him that book. He was nodding at once, watching Y/N grin and get on all fours, sliding a disc into the projector, adjusting the volume. He didn’t know if she felt how charged the air felt, tucking her hair behind her ear as she navigated the movie’s menu, his eyes skimming over her figure indulgently. The beginning credits began to roll, the projector displaying the title card of the film pretty well, Seokjin realizing that was why Y/N had dimmed the lights so low.
Y/N got comfortable beside Seokjin at once, curling into his side and tucking herself under his arm, one of hers thrown across his waist. Reminded of a kitten getting cozy in her bed, Seokjin purred, fingertips dancing along her upper arm, the skin like warm silk.
“I… never asked you this, but when I gave you this book, you seemed emotional. Can I ask you why, honey?” Y/N was thoroughly enjoying Seokjin stroking her arm with reverence, his chin resting on top of her head.
“Oh, I suppose that was kind of odd to you at the time,” Seokjin replied, focusing more on her than the movie in the background. Movies never really compared to books, anyways. “It’s just something that I remember… a young kid I grew up with telling me about. You know I’m not a big adventurer, but reading about it, seeing it, I’m comfortable with. Nostalgia sometimes gets to me, that’s all.”
“That’s why you’re so sweet,” Y/N hummed, her breath fanning over his neck, Seokjin giggling at her words. “I felt so bad that day, I didn’t wanna make you cry.”
“You didn’t, you just reminded me that sometimes the world is smaller than I think it is,” Seokjin’s touch migrated to her shoulders, lowly hissing at the tightness in the muscles, Y/N wincing when he pressed over them. “Come here.”
Seokjin cupped her waist, spreading his legs carefully, before rolling her over so she was seated between his thighs, back pressed to his chest. Y/N went stiff, the opposite of what he was trying to do, so he gave her a reassuring, chaste kiss to the crown of her head, pressing his thumbs into the tender sides of her neck. Shuddering when Seokjin dug the digits into two knots that have been giving her grief the entire week, she went limp immediately, not knowing where to put her own hands– settling them idly on her lap.
“You’re tense, let me help you,” Seokjin murmured, Y/N surrounded by his eucalyptus scent, and having him care for her was better than any spa treatment. “You’ve been working too hard, pretty.”
“Uh-uh,” Y/N protested, melting backwards, the sturdiness of his chest actually quite surprising. “Not true– oh.”
Seokjin hit a particularly tender spot, her tight trapezius muscle, and he was seemingly chuckling as he massaged the flesh sensually. He didn’t make a smart retort, even though he could have, but instead he focused on working out every single kink in her neck.
“How did you get so good at this?” Y/N was choking back moans, at that point, barely paying attention to the movie, her temperature rising in the toasty bedroom.
“Well, when I was a performer, I’d have to tend to my own knots and strains,” Seokjin responded, sweeping her hair aside so he could press on either side of her upper spine, Y/N involuntarily arching away from him with a strained whine– one that had heat rising to his cheeks, shamefully. “Guess the skill is finally coming in handy.”
“Seokjin,” Y/N breathed, and the jaguar hybrid thought he heard a slight edge of warning to it, like she was accusing him of being cheeky. After so long, he couldn’t help it.
A few moments went by mostly in silence– apart from the movie’s dialogue and score, and a tiny yelp from Y/N once or twice. Seokjin, even though he couldn’t stand feeling cold, was truthfully getting warm himself, Y/N so pliant in front of him, her hands subconsciously finding purchase on his knees as he worked her back.
“B-baby, I think I’m g-good, uh–” Y/N’s breathing became labored, heat striking through her as he continued the massage under her shoulder blades. “Oh fuck.”
Apparently a very sore spot, Seokjin dug his fingers into her skin with more intensity, and embarrassingly so, Y/N let out a thin, pleading whine, Seokjin’s spine going rigid at the sound.
“Does it feel good?” Seokjin asked, his voice becoming siren-like again, moving to the other shoulder blade and eliciting a similar sound from her.
“W-what do you think?” Y/N was out of oxygen, two seconds away from pinning him to the headboard, Seokjin’s laughter rumbly and deep. “I don’t know if I want you to stop or to–”
Y/N was shamefully turned on at that point. It was hard not to be, she thought, between his proximity and his hands working her into a boneless puddle. Still chuckling, Seokjin removed one of his hands, reaching for the tray on the bed, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and offering it to Y/N, fingers poised before her lips.
Instead of eating it, Y/N looked over her shoulder, face flushed and pupils blown out, an accusatory expression lighting up her features.
“You didn’t mention you’re some sort of Casanova,” Y/N mumbled, overwhelmed by that romantic side of her jaguar hybrid, his ears fluttering playfully. Instead of feeding her, Seokjin ate the strawberry himself, the cool juices of the fruit spilling over his chin and down his neck, Y/N’s sight zeroing in on that visual. “Jesus Christ.”
“What’s wrong?” Seokjin teased once he swallowed the fruit, forcibly turning her back around so he could continue the massage, Y/N freezing when he not only laid his palms on her shoulders again, but his lips pressed a kiss to the top of her spine tenderly, his lips soothing her feverish flesh from the cold fruit he ate.
“Are you aware of how gorgeous you are, Seokjin? It’s borderline disturbingly wrong,” Y/N grouched, squeezing his knees, Seokjin freezing behind her before cracking up into hysterics, arms winding around her middle tightly, sponging kisses along her shoulders in between laughter. “You’re literally a doll!”
Despite his laughter, Y/N could feel his heart speeding up with her words, chest still flush with her back, and she debated whether or not to shut the movie off and just straddle him at that point. Suddenly aware that her panties were starting to get a bit damp, Y/N cursed herself inwardly, not believing how little it took to turn her on. She wondered if the jaguar hybrid could smell it, his sleek black tail laying heavily on one of her bare thighs. Boldly, while Seokjin kneaded her flesh again, she traced her fingers over the silky fur of his tail out of curiosity, Seokjin whimpering behind her, movements freezing.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. She hadn’t gone as far as to touch Yoongi’s tail yet, but with Seokjin’s right in front of her, it was hard to resist stroking through the fur. In consequence, Seokjin’s fingers danced over the straps of her tank top, running his index fingers along the lace.
“Can I… move these just a bit?” Seokjin fiddled with the material, Y/N nodding straight away, hurrying up the process by sliding one of the straps around her bicep, eager for him to tend to her aching shoulders, craving his touch. With a soft intake of air, Seokjin copied her movements on the other side, one hand gliding over the entirety of her exposed upper back, seemingly feeling for more points of tension.
Still stroking through the fur of his tail, her other hand gripping his quilt with pale knuckles, Y/N bit down on her lip when Seokjin rolled his knuckles against her tender skin. Betting every last dollar in her bank account that neither of them gave a single shit what was happening in the movie still playing in front of them, Seokjin used one hand to grab the tray of food on the bed and move it to one of his nightstands distractedly, bending his knees so his feet were flat against the quilt and he could better cage Y/N in.
However, with Seokjin’s movements, Y/N scooching up on the bed to press closer to him, her tank top straps fell to the crooks of her elbows, her eyes shooting wide open as the garment bunched around her waist– and she was not wearing a bra in that moment.
There was a pause, Seokjin’s broad body crooking over hers from behind, where nothing was audible but sounds from the movie. Seokjin was staring at the entirety of her bare back, also realizing she wasn’t wearing anything under her tank top, but he was unable to help himself by gliding his hands from the small of her waist up to her mid-back. The action was smooth, Y/N’s skin somewhat slick with perspiration, Seokjin’s mouth watering. He always considered himself a man of patience, but there was something primal brewing within him, something that was difficult to control.
“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice was but a breeze in the wind, experimentally digging his fingertips into the base of her spine, relishing in the thready moan she offered to him, one of her forearms pressed over her breasts to preserve her modesty– Seokjin could smell both her arousal and bashfulness filling up the room thickly. “Are you alright?’”
“Keep touching me,” was all Y/N responded with, leaning backwards and removing her arm from her chest, Seokjin focusing straight ahead at the movie blindly.
“How so, pretty girl?” Seokjin groaned, wrecked, his nose tucked into the base of her throat, not moving until she vocalized.
“All over, anywhere,” Y/N whimpered, gasping when Seokjin’s hands snaked around her middle, skimming over her tummy, the jaguar hybrid’s resolve finally dissolving, his lips latching around the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Honey…”
Sucking her flesh into his mouth sensually, Seokjin felt blood rushing to his crotch, the taste of her skin so addicting, he swore he was high. It was the taste of her, yes, that was causing him to descend into a lust-driven frenzy, but also the scent of her love, the scent of her arousal, that was egging him on. Still, the human side of his brain begged him to see through the fog.
“You’re sure?”
“Fuck, yes, Jin, please,” Y/N had annoyance dripping in her tone, one of her palms covering his on her abdomen, guiding it up to her sternum. “Love you, and I want you.”
A switch flipped within Seokjin, one he didn’t know existed, and he stroked the naked sides of her waist with hunger, resuming his task of decorating the slope of her neck with love bites, a strangled noise leaving his throat when Y/N shifted her hips backwards; flush to his.
He was reminded of the previous weekend, Y/N in that dress, grinding into him with carefree abandon– and how he needed to excuse himself to the bathroom before they left to stick his face under the icy tap. He felt perverted, out of control– but a distant, animalistic side of him was saying “she’s the one, the only one” which was enough for him to want to stake his claim.
Seokjin grasped the material of her tank top pooling around her waist, pulling it over her head with care. Once Y/N was free, she keened at the feeling of Seokjin suckling a bruise beneath her earlobe, his hardness pressing up against her ass, the sensation drenching her underwear thoroughly and anticipation climbing to Everest.
Silently, Seokjin nipped the shell of her ear with his sharpened teeth, and before Y/N could fully process that, he was cradling her chest, the weight of her tits in his palms having him groaning and pressing his hips against her ass even more firmly. He had never been so turned on in his life, Y/N totally caged in his embrace, wanting and receptive to everything he had to offer her. This, this, was everything he was waiting to feel his entire life, and he could hardly think straight– Y/N semi-consciously whacking the projector, muting the movie miraculously in favor of hearing the noises Seokjin could make.
Seokjin, caught in a spell, hooked his chin over Y/N’s shoulder, not caring that his back was aching from the prolonged arch, her breasts still cupped in his hands. Experimentally, he pressed them together, finally peering at her exposed chest, his throat rather dry at the sight as he soaked in both her heaving into his grasp, and the marks he had left on the side of her throat and shoulder. Skin lighting up with heat, one of her hands flailed backwards, clawing at Seokjin’s hip– now aware that he was very much completely clothed, all Y/N wanted was his bare skin against hers.
“Easy, kitten,” Seokjin ground out, her fingernails cutting into his flesh even through the material of his sweatpants, Y/N hardly recognizing his hypnotic voice as it reached her ears centimeters away, and what he called her having her lax in his grip like prey.
Her tits still in his palms, lips heavy on her neck, Y/N was about to melt into his mattress completely– breath stolen from her lungs when the jaguar hybrid teasingly swiped his thumbs over her nipples, erect with all of the slow teasing, the sensation sharp and having her jolt in the cage– made out of his limbs– he had trapped her in.
“Tease,” Y/N managed due to the way his forefinger and thumb tweaked the buds, Y/N nearly passing out as he promptly slicked up the fingers of his right hand by sticking them in his mouth. “Jin–”
“Shush,” Seokjin returned, using his dampened digits to roll her right nipple between them, completely entranced. At that point, he felt himself leaking somewhat into his boxers, toying with Y/N’s chest until she was a mess in his lap, peering over her shoulder to see how her body reacted to his touch. “If you let me, I’ll make you feel good. But I want you to listen to me, is that okay?”
Y/N nodded desperately, but it wasn’t enough of a confirmation for Seokjin.
“Mmm-hmm! Yes, Seokjin, I-I– hnngh,” Y/N yelped when he kneaded the sensitive flesh of her breasts again.
“Okay then, lean on me,” Seokjin sucked yet another bruise into the side of Y/N’s throat, enjoying working her up. “You– mmph–”
Y/N had turned her head, seeking out his mouth, eagerly slotting her lips against his with desperation. His arms automatically wrapped around her again, one forearm slung low on her writhing hips, the other barred across her chest, letting her kiss him with abandon. She had wanted to kiss him like that for weeks, swiping her tongue along the seam of his mouth, Seokjin’s lips parting slightly and granting her access. A deep, indulgent moan came from her as she tasted him, sweet like the strawberry he just ate, still clawing at his clothed hips when her tongue slid against his. In return, Seokjin hummed, kissing her back just as freely, letting her take control for a moment. Though, while she was distracted, Seokjin began to fiddle with the waistband of her pajama shorts, a grunt tearing through him when she jerked her hips backwards.
Breaking away from their kiss, Seokjin was transfixed, Y/N attempting to keep her control by going for his neck, even though the twisted position of her body was uncomfortable. Lapping at the sticky trail of strawberry juice along his Adam's apple, Seokjin shuddered at the feeling, her teeth scraping against his throat before she sunk them in, which had his eyes rolling back into his skull.
Taking matters into her own hands, Y/N managed to wiggle out of her shorts, a hand breaking away from Seokjin’s hips, tossing them carelessly off the bed. The jaguar hybrid, sounding utterly fucked out already, tipped his head back and moaned when her ass collided with his lap again. At that point, with the scent of her wetness becoming so concentrated, Seokjin snapped, growling, dangerously, Y/N blinking up at him at once.
“Face forward and watch the movie, pretty,” Seokjin ordered, Y/N’s head spinning. If he didn’t want to continue, that was fine, but she was pretty much naked and she wasn’t about to watch Hobbits traipse through the mud like that. However, that wasn’t the case, Seokjin hooking his chin over her kiss-bitten shoulder, fingertips dipping into the waistband of her panties. “Oh. Did you wear these for me?”
Looking down, confused and still driven crazy by lust, Y/N’s mouth dropped open. Subconsciously, she must have picked out the pink pair of panties Seokjin was teasing her with when they were folding laundry, the gusset of the fabric completely soaked. Lolling her head back against his chest, she looked at him pleadingly, the feeling of him tracing her hip bones driving her insane.
“Aw, poor thing,” Seokjin cooed, kissing her temple with a derisive smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
With that, Seokjin stripped her of her panties in a flash, stuffing the garment into the pocket of his sweatpants, Y/N mewling, turned on by the fact that she was completely bare before him, and he hadn’t shed a single article of clothing. Without wasting too much time, his mouth on her neck again, Seokjin grabbed a hold onto her thighs and propped them up, his breath quickening at the fresh wave of her arousal that surrounded him. Again, Y/N grappled for his tail, just about the only thing she could do wrapped up in his arms like that, cunt clenching around nothing when he moaned hollowly, the appendage curling around her wrist.
Finally, Seokjin ghosted his fingers over where she needed him most, cursing at the wetness that gathered there abundantly, Y/N’s hips bucking over his lap with a cry. Cunt pulsing with his touch, Seokjin bit his lip, parting her dewy folds, the slick sound making Y/N cringe. He didn’t want to tease her too much, she was practically dripping onto his quilt, free hand coming up to pinch a nipple as his index finger made a slow circle around her clit simultaneously.
The action elicited a great reward. Y/N’s spine arched, crying out his name, more wetness gushing out of her. Cooing again, Seokjin kept circling the sweet spot, loving the sounds she made for him, hardly noticing she was scraping her nails against his sensitive tail.
“So wet, kitten,” Seokjin purred, slowly working her up, Y/N’s gut tightening at his dulcet tone, hardly here nor there.
“Feels so good,” Y/N thrashed, stomach flipping over when the movement had his cock pressed right against the seam of her ass. “Ah!”
Seokjin groaned, ignoring his own pleasure in favor of finding her’s, testing the waters by teasing a fingertip around her fluttering entrance. Hearing her pleas, he sunk the digit into her, whimpering at the way she clamped down on him. Y/N rocked her hips, essentially riding his finger, the visual erotic and making him hiss darkly.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” Seokjin encouraged, gripping the side of her waist to aid her desperate movements. “Use me.”
Helping her out, he began to snap his wrist against her, curling his finger and pressing against the front of her walls, Y/N swore she could have died, so crammed full of desire for the jaguar hybrid it was driving her insane.
“M-more, please,” Y/N begged, grinding against his hand, leaking all over him.
“Spoiled little girl,” Seokjin taunted, but despite the jab, he added another digit into the mix while she rode his fingers, his thumb toying with her clit as she felt herself barreling towards her orgasm. “Gonna need to stretch you out, anyways, kitten.”
Gasping, his dirty words was all she needed, her sudden orgasm taking Seokjin by surprise as she wailed in his arms, walls spasming around his fingers as he continued to fuck them into her. The lewd sounds of her wetness had his ears ringing, wanting to taste the mess she made, but he murmured sweet nothings in her ear as she tore through her orgasm instead.
Y/N, panting, grasped his wrist to halt his movements, oversensitive but somehow still needy for him, Seokjin releasing his hold on her and allowing her to turn, climbing over his lap to straddle him with a ravenous look on her face. Seokjin simply stared back, smirking, bringing his slicked-up fingers to his mouth, dutifully cleaning them off and trying not to cum in his pants at the taste of her. To his surprise, a startled moan leaving his lips, Y/N rocked her hips over the hardness beneath his sweatpants, her hands tangled in his shirt.
“Uh, oh, still need more?” Seokjin teased, hands landing on her ass and kneading the flesh, helping her grind against him. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”
Y/N had no response but to kiss him, whimpering when his tongue tangled with hers, Y/N sensing that he was slowly beginning to unravel. She wanted nothing more than for him to lose his patience and fuck her senseless, feeling her pussy throbbing over the bulge in his pants. She broke away to mouth down his neck, and when she felt him shiver when she grazed over a particular spot, she sucked a bruise into the flesh, Seokjin’s hips grinding up harshly into her heat.
“Take this off,” Y/N whined, yanking at his flimsy tee shirt, fed up with being the only one naked. Seokjin obliged, letting her strip the article off of him while they continued to rub against one another, sweat dripping from his hairline. “God, you’re so fucking sexy…”
Y/N gaped at the sight in front of her, not expecting Seokjin to be… well, ripped. She had seen his chest before, when she mended the wound on his side, but she was hardly gawking at his solid abs when she was doing so. Hands instantly shooting out to glide along his skin, his muscles rippling under her touch, the jaguar hybrid was panting while she gyrated her hips on his cock.
“No, you,” Seokjin managed, smiling at her despite the situation they were in, Y/N kissing over his prominent clavicles tenderly. “Fuck, pretty girl!”
Y/N moved off of his hips, gawking at the wet patch she left over his gray sweatpants with distant humiliation, making brief eye-contact to ask if she could divest the garment from him. He nodded eagerly, so wound up he could think of nothing else but the scent of her, the love in her eyes, and how perfect she was. In one smooth motion, she shucked both his pants and boxers from his body, her eyes going comically wide at what she saw.
Not only was Seokjin the sweetest man alive, gorgeous, and ripped– he had the biggest dick she ever saw in her life. Truly, he was blessed in all areas, Y/N speechless as she stared at the intimidating length and girth, suddenly understanding why he mentioned needing to stretch him out.
“Seokjin, you’re huge,” Y/N, again, was clenching around nothing, looking up at him with awe. Seokjin had blush in his cheeks that wasn’t due to his arousal and the temperature of the room, Y/N realizing he was bashful. “I– you want my mouth, my–”
“Come here,” Seokjin cut her off, regaining his ability to take control, hooking her around her waist. “I want you to sit on my cock.”
Stunned, Y/N felt her wetness roll down her thighs, and fuck, she was going to need it. She had no objection to that request, maintaining their eye contact as she reached down, grasping his cock, the jaguar hybrid’s ears flattening against his skull as her thumb smeared precum around his tip. Having mercy on him, and neediness taking over her again, she ran him through her folds, dripping over him, whimpering brokenly when he caught on her entrance. Would he even fit?
“You can take it,” Seokjin read her mind, tucking hair behind her ear and kissing beneath her jaw, the words making heat strike through her. “Go slow.”
Swallowing thickly, she lined him up, exhaling shakily as she sunk down, and despite how turned on she was and the sheer wetness spilling from her, the stretch was enough to knock the wind out of her. Taking over, guiding her by her waist, Seokjin grit his teeth as she took him inch by inch, her chest heaving. It was a tight fit, enough to have Seokjin seeing stars, Y/N’s thighs shaking on either side of him. He was telling her to breathe when she was fully seated in his lap, cock throbbing inside of her as she adjusted to his size, kissing over her face soothingly.
“Move when you’re ready kitten, okay?” Seokjin himself was a bit starved for oxygen, Y/N cupping his face and pressing a kiss on his lower lip, tongue flicking over the flesh.
Regaining her ability to function, eyes going round when she looked down– she pressed a hand over her lower abdomen, the slightest bump there, the action having Seokjin hissing. Darkness was in his eyes when her walls fluttered around him, and with that, Y/N gave an experimental roll of her hips, both of them moaning in tandem as he slid out an inch.
“F-fuck, Jin,” Y/N whined, getting a hold on his broad shoulders to ride him properly, lifting herself up only to drop back down harshly, feeling like he was spearing into her guts.
Entirely overwhelmed, Seokjin leaned forward, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples while she fucked herself on his cock, happy to let her chase her pleasure, to provide it. Y/N’s head was thrown back, entirely gone, Seokjin’s name leaving her lips like a prayer when he stroked a thumb over her clit, bracing her hands on his knees again to switch up the angle, one that gave Seokjin quite a show and had his cock rubbing against her G-spot deliciously.
“Look at you,” Seokjin awed, his hips beginning to buck up to meet her strokes, taking his cock like a saint. “Fuck. So pretty, so perfect.”
With Seokjin fucking into her like that, his steady circles over her clit, she was gone again with a slam and grind onto his lap, an elastic band snapping within her as she stilled, collapsed against Seokjin’s chest as she felt herself gush.
“Holy fucking hell,” Seokjin groaned, his lap soaked, Y/N’s pussy clamping down so hard on him his vision was turning white.
Y/N couldn’t move anymore, throat strained from her cries, convulsing against her. The world was turning as she caught her breath, somehow still aroused, and she found herself on her back, Seokjin sucking a deep bruise into her neck. Still nestled inside of her, throbbing, Y/N wound her arms around the jaguar hybrid, hands sliding into his hair.
“Fuck me,” Y/N breathed against his lips, and that was all Seokjin needed to release that last scrap of control he had over himself.
Snapping his hips forward, Y/N’s cunt swollen and sensitive, she wailed, feeling him in her throat. The new position was intimate, Seokjin pretty much laying most of his body weight on top of her, murmuring things in her ear that she could only make out bits and pieces of.
“Gonna cum soon,” he groaned, driving into her, Y/N sinking her teeth into his shoulder.
“Cum inside me,” she requested, the discussion about her IUD already out of the way days ago. “P-please.”
“Oh yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Seokjin teased, though the request had the predator in him coming alive. “Want me to stuff you full so you can have my cubs?”
Shock flooded through Y/N at that question, not expecting Seokjin to be like that, and shamefully she felt herself clenching around him again. Seokjin must have felt it, because he grunted, hips stuttering.
“You’d look so beautiful,” Seokjin sighed, Y/N’s eyes rolling back, sliding her fingers over his silky ears. “Fuck, I love you, my pretty girl, my love, gonna give it to you–”
With a final thrust, Seokjin went still, kissing Y/N harshly, heat filling her as he spilled into her cunt, the jaguar hybrid whimpering. Miraculously, the sensation of him cumming so deeply inside of her had a smaller, less intense orgasm shuddering through her, leaving her utterly spent and exhausted. Seokjin himself was breathing like he ran a marathon, Y/N holding him weakly as he pulled himself together.
“You’re insane,” Y/N accused once she caught her breath, covered in sweat, saliva, and cum, her poor pussy battered and sensitive. “I won’t be able to walk for three days.”
Seokjin giggled, actually giggled, after how devilish he had just behaved, placing an apologetic kiss on her jaw.
“Was I too rough?” Seokjin became serious, worry etched in his eyebrows.
“No, you were perfect,” Y/N insisted, cupping the side of his face. “I love you, honey.”
Hiding his face in her neck, he returned the sentiment, both of them content to sit in their mess for a few minutes to hold each other, Seokjin’s tail curling behind him languidly.
“We watched about five minutes of that movie,” Y/N commented, twirling a lock of his wavy hair around a finger with a snort. “That was a hell of a first date!”
“There’s always next time,” Seokjin replied, finally rolling off of her, Y/N wincing at what they had to clean up. “I’m gonna get some things to clean you up, can you have a few sips of that water for me, pretty?”
Y/N, bonelessly, reached for the forgotten snack platter, greedily gulping the water down her scraped-up throat, watching Seokjin walk to his dresser. With a secret smile, she stared at his ass, munching on a strawberry. He only took a few minutes to gather his items: a few damp cloths, two pairs of his pajamas, and a fresh quilt to replace the one that had unspeakable fluids all over it.
Lovingly, Seokjin cleaned her up, cooing when she winced at the sensitivity between her legs, doing the same to himself and dressing the two of them in his soft pajamas. Y/N only had to stand for a few seconds while he changed the quilt, pulling it back so they could get in.
They ended up in the same position they were originally in, Y/N curled into his side, Y/N turning the projector off of mute in an attempt to pick up wherever the movie was, her eyes catching on something sitting on one of the pillows.
“Oh my god. The alpaca watched us fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing at the plushie, making Seokjin’s squeaky laugh fill the room, Y/N smacking him lightly on his chest. “Why do we keep scandalizing the innocents?”
“Our cross to bear,” Seokjin shrugged, brushing his lips over one of the love bites he left behind.
Holding her close, they chatted about the movie, ate some snacks, and after about an hour, fell asleep intertwined– the projector still rolling on, and rain falling gently outside.
“I think I’ve figured out the audio,” Namjoon invited Y/N into his room days later, once she untangled herself from Seokjin in the morning and completely rinsed their sins off of her body. “Everything we captured last week.”
Namjoon’s expression was worrying her, his eyebrows pinched, sitting at his desk and chin in his hand. He had been slaving over a digital audio workstation all week, hardly making it to mealtimes, Y/N even hearing him pacing around his room late at night.
“Is it bad?”
Namjoon gave her a look, one that said everything she needed to know, leaning against his desk.
“Did Jeongguk listen?”
“He listened this morning,” Namjoon said carefully, Y/N wondering why he wasn’t present. “Due to what we ended up capturing, he went upstairs to consult his old journal. I haven’t seen him since.”
“Let’s hear it, then,” Y/N bit her lip nervously, not liking his clear reluctance. With a sigh, he pressed on the space bar.
“What is your name?”
Static.
“How old are you?”
More static.
“Why are you here?”
Listening to her recorded voice had her cringing, but finally, there was a response to the third question.
“Watching.” The voice was creepy, low, and made her queasy, but what was said had her skin crawling.
“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”
“Many are here.”
Y/N glanced at Namjoon, a little confused. Sure, the responses made her uneasy, but they weren’t so bad to warrant how hesitant he looked.
“Okay, creepy, but expected, right?” She asked, nudging him with her foot.
“There’s more. I didn’t want to show you, but Jeongguk insisted,” Namjoon said flatly, expression darkening. “Actually, I don’t think you, specifically, should even go back to that house.”
“What? Namjoon, you’re freaking me out. Just show me,” Y/N blinked, Namjoon scrolling on the workstation to a highlighted section.
“This is when we were in Julie’s room,” Namjoon murmured, pressing play.
“Why are you here?” Y/N’s voice came through the speakers, Y/N recalling they only got one response in that room.
“To kill you, whorish witch.”
Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @goooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv @milopenne @steadycreationangel @rinkud @minjianhyung
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About You Pt3
Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader
Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.
About You Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife
2009, Hungaroring
There was at least 2 weeks before Formula 1 went back to racing. It means that there was 2 weeks for Y/N to hide herself and that embarrassing situation she was in. 2 weeks to prepare herself how to pretend on how to act if she sees Sebastian.
'As long as Sebastian does not bring it up then I will pretend that nothing happened' she told herself.
She tried not to think about the incident by allowing herself to be buried with answering emails and looking into other things needed pre-race.
"Did you eat already?"
A sudden orange appeared in between her and the computer screen. Y/N didn't have to look up to see which driver handed the orange because there was only one driver who would always give her an orange.
"I haven't got the chance yet"Y/N replied to Sebastian
"You should probably eat. It's not good that you aren't eating" Sebastian insisted "Can't Mark do these things?"
"I'm his personal assistant remember, I'm paid to do these"
"But is it really necessary to finish it at the moment?"
It was pointless to argue with Sebastian so Y/N took the orange and closed her laptop.
"Happy?"she asked
"Very much"
The two of them started eating the oranges brought by Sebastian. It was a habit that the two have, Sebastian calls it a pre-race ritual. He actually believes he performs better when they share oranges. So here they are sitting and enjoying the oranges.
In the back of their minds, they are both thinking about that night at the hotel but there is a certain peace between the them. They don't want to ruin things by saying something stupid.
"You heard what happened with Massa right?"Y/N tried to establish a new topic just to get things off her overthinking.
"Absolutely felt bad for him. It's a good thing that he seems to be in a stable condition"Sebastian said.
The qualifying incident yesterday has been terrifying to watch. Y/N didn't want that happening to either Sebastian or Mark or even any other driver. Her heart dropped when she saw Massa being wheeled out unconscious to the hospital.
"Do you sometimes think that you'll ever stop racing?"Y/N wondered "You have been racing since you were like young and now you are stil racing"
"I honestly don't know, racing is all I have ever known" Sebastian admitted.
"I know, you were born gripping on a steering gear I bet" Y/N joked which made Sebastian laugh too.
"But seriously, if you ever want to retire of racing. Don't retire and go out because you got badly injured. Retire because you want to"Y/N added
It was her way of saying that she is extremely cared about him. Maybe its something that she cannot put into words but maybe Sebastian can figure it all out, he is a smart man in Y/N's opinion.
With a comforting smile, Y/N was assured that he got the message.
2009, Spa-Francorchamps
"Did you try texting Mark?"
Christian Horner and Sebastian Vettel are both in a meeting room about to discuss some things with the team strategists. They were supposed to meet up 10 minutes ago but they can't go on with the meeting since Mark is not around.
It was highly unusual for Mark to be late. He is never late as far as Sebastian knows. He considers giving Y/N a text when the door burst open.
"I'm gonna punch Button in the face when I see him"Mark Webber was fuming when he entered late at the conference room.
"Hold on, what did Jenson do?"
"Punk tried to ask my sister out"Mark huffed.
"He did what?" Christian butted in the conversation "I thought Sebastian was dating Y/N"
"HOLD ON WHAT?" "EXCUSE ME?"
The two red bull drivers were on their feet. Mark seems to be ready to hit Sebastian while Sebastian was debating which exit is much more safer. Frankly, Sebastian was never afraid of Mark but with the way he is shooting daggers with his eyes- If looks could kill, Sebastian was 4 feet under ground now.
"I just thought Sebastian was dating Y/N, they are always together when she isn't following you around Mark" Christian explained.
"My sister and Sebastian?" Mark repeated
Sebastian wanted to explain himself to Mark but he is internally panicking. If Christian, their team principal, can notice then there is a big chance that his feelings might be obvious to other people in the paddock.
At the same time, he felt a sick feeling in his stomach upon realizing that Jenson Button asked out Y/N. Jenson had the courage to ask her out and Sebastian couldn't even talk to Y/N about what happened weeks ago.
Christian seems to sense the tension that he brought to the two red bull drivers
"Maybe its just me and my understanding, right seb?" Christian apologized
"Huh yeah, mmhh nothing going on" Sebastian lied
There was a sharp gaze from Mark "I'm watching you"
"Let's talk about Jenson"Christian redirected the topic "maybe he is just trying to get a rise off you. We're slowly closing on him for the championship"
"If I hit that boy with a car this Sunday, I won't regret it" Mark swears.
"Don't bring your personal life on the car" Christian reminded.
Sebastian seems to take it as a mental note for himself as well. He was actually debating that if Mark wasn't successful in punting Jenson then he would.
"Besides Y/N has to date, she is in that age of dating" Christian added
Sebastian knew that Mark has been the kind of sibling that is overly protective. Given that Y/N has been the youngest one and the one that has been following Mark around, Mark has a special worry about her. It was very understandable why he acts like this.
"As much as I could, I will not let my sister date drivers." Mark says with finality.
It felt like it wasn't just a statement meant for Jenson but it was also something meant for Sebastian. Great, now Sebastian feels like everything is more complicated than it was before.
2009, Interlagos
It wasn't Y/N's brightest idea that she went on a date with Jenson Button. She figured after weeks of being constantly asked by Jenson, she should give him a chance. She thought it could also help lessen her feelings for Sebastian.
It's a pretty bad idea now that she thinks about it.
But there was no going back because here she is sitting with Jenson at a small restaurant somewhere in Brazil.
Don't get her wrong but Jenson is charming and he knows how to make people comfortable. He is a gentleman, he picked her up with roses, asked her for her favorite dish, and was kind enough to lend his jacket when she is feeling a bit cold.
But there is something missing about Jenson.
"You know, I really enjoy spending time with you tonight"Jenson started "But are you enjoying yourself?"
"I'm sorry its just that its my first time going out for dates, I'm not good with this sort of thing" Y/N replied
"That's okay, I'm glad to be the first one to take you out"
Y/N felt the guilt of lying eating her up so she quickly wanted to clear out the air "Jenson, you are a really nice guy but you know I really think its better if we become friends instead?"
There was a small smile from the British driver. It seems like he has also felt that he was about to be friendzoned tonight.
"It's perfectly fine Y/N, I just really enjoy your company"
The dinner continued on more smoothly and they were able to share some personal details about their life. It felt like an air of relief for the two of them to clear out things that this will not be a failed date but rather a new friendship.
The media on the other hand has seen a different story.
Jenson Button winning on and off track against Red Bull?
In case you missed it, the newly declared Formula 1 champion, Jenson Button, has been seen in a restaurant in Brazil having dinner with a very special lady. Who is this mystery lady? It's Mark Webber's sister and personal assistant, Y/N.
The pairing is a shocker for everyone since Red Bull is the main competitor of Button this season. It seems like the two are a star crossed lovers in the making. People who have been in the restaurant has noted how the pair were giggling and close to one another.
We can't wait what Mark will have to say about this pairing.
2009, Yas Marina Circuit
"Sebastian please just slow down"Y/n begged.
It was really petty for Sebastian to be angry and ignore Y/N but he felt really confused on how to act around her. Ever since he read that stupid article, its all that he could think about. So while he couldn't deal with his emotions then he thinks its best to avoid her like the plague.
"I'm busy" Sebastian's curt reply
"Oh c'mon, you are not busy. You are ignoring me" Y/N was still hot in trail "This is so childish and stupid"
"Me? Stupid?" Sebastian stopped and turned to face her.
"You are calling me stupid when you are the one out there having dinner with the enemy"Sebastian wasn't thinking at this point.
"The enemy? Do you think I'm giving out secrets to Jenson?" she asked in shock
"Yes, Jenson is our enemy. You should have not gone on a dinner date with him, don't you have any sense of loyalty to the team?"
Sebastian could see the tears starting to form in her eyes. He knows that he said the wrong things and its not something that he can take back. Everything was just so heated.
"You believe those tabloids than me?"
"I don't know what to believe. You two looked pretty cozy on that front page" Sebastian really wanted to shut himself by now but jealousy is a sick sick disease that cannot be stopped.
"That's real mature of you Seb, you disappoint me" she sounds so defeated "Out of everyone, you were one of the people who I thought would believe me rather than what was painted by the media"
"Y/N you can't fault me on that, you were close"
"We were just friends and besides I-" she caught herself to stop.
There was a confession at the other end of Y/N. She almost confessed how she cannot see herself with Jenson because all she can see is how he is not Sebastian and all she wants to love is Sebastian. It was a good thing she caught herself before she slipped again.
"Besides what?" Sebastian wondered.
"Never mind. Talk to me when you mature"
"Yeah that's real mature, run away when you don't wanna face the consequences of your actions" Sebastian chastised.
Y/N felt that her tears are falling so she could only turn away and run the other direction. Sebastian, on the other hand, felt like hitting himself. It was the type of conversation he wanted to avoid because he could not contain his emotions. He bitterly regrets how this was their last conversation for 2009.
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Hi!!! I just wanna say that I really love your writings!!! Their so good hehehe!! Can you do one a mick x wolff!reader?? Maybe one where toto sets them up cause he is tired of seeing them make heart eyes at each other and not making a move HHHH. Thank you lovie!!🤍
𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 .ೃ࿐
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: love at times is shy and oblivious. like you and mick. but sometimes all you need is a father and a plan (with some backups!).
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 16+? (suggestive), fluff, poor humour as guaranteed, (loosely) based on the movie 'set it up', no sense of a motorhome ♡︎, mention of christian horner :(, possibly cringe, basically childhood friends to lovers trope, reader is lowkey a menace, confessions are made, toto in line for best dad award?, google translated german :0, a mess in general!
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mick schumacher x wolff!fem!reader, joão felix x reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+
𝐀/𝐍: okay so i've been waiting for a good mick plot but nothing was coming to mind but this! this screams mick! thank you so much for your praise. hope i do them justice with this although the plot holes are there!!
𝐏.𝐒: i'm curious on how people envision themselves as wolff, horner, vettle readers, etc. if you're coloured like me, do you pretend to be adopted or from a previous relationship if it isn't specified? 😭 i mean the explanation has to be viable lmao. maybe you just don't imagine?
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆
There were certain values a Wolff had. Those that were just innate.
A Wolff, more often than not, was a leader, intelligent, charismatic, good-looking, and embedded with dad jokes. Additionally, when a Wolff wanted something, they would do whatever to get it. They didn't leave any leaf unturned, they made the rounds and the effort.
It didn't make sense. You had all of those values. Yet, every time you joined the Mercedes garage, your father, Toto, found himself questioning everything.
Take now for example. He was in the beloved Mercedes garage, sat next to the best reserve driver he had ever chosen, Mick.
Parents tend to be protective of their children before they're even born. And it only amplifies after they're born. From which strangers you meet, the roads you cross, the seatbelt you have to wear to the clothes you wear, the suspiciously high phone bill and your romantic endeavours. A father's protection for his little girl was a tad bit stronger than this, special in it's own way.
Toto would do anything to protect his children, especially his little girls. And if any guy was making moves on you, right in front of him, the 'dad' side of him was just waiting to come out.
But he could only do that if someone actually made a move on you. Sure there were other guys but the one sat right next to him did nothing but shyly follow you with his blue eyes and blush in your presence.
Mick was seriously frustrating Toto and his wife. The both of them had watched the German boy watch you with heart eyes ever since the both of you had first met at the Schumacher's house for dinner. You were young back then but hell, within five minutes everyone knew that Mick was a lovesick puppy.
Years had gone by with your friendship becoming stronger. Those same years involved Mick and you being stuck to each other as if you were hip-to-hip. You attended all his races and he supported you in all your academic achievements. And oblivious to you, somewhere along the road you had also become as lovesick as he was.
Toto didn't really realise how fed up he was. He didn't want to interfere. In fact, he wanted things between the both of you to happen naturally. But he just had happen to watch the entire hour and forty-five minutes of 'Set It Up' over your shoulder instead of doing his work and he just had to do something... hell, anything.
━━━━━━━━━━━
First things first... Toto couldn't put the both of you in an elevator. At least not yet. You knew each other while the two bosses in 'Set It Up' didn't, so it didn't make much sense. You probably would never even get to the topic of your feelings. Not without a physical icebreaker of sorts.
Toto needed someone and George Russell just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"George, my boy!" Toto chorused, beckoning the British driver towards him. He slung his arm over George's shoulder, bringing him closer to him. "Do you mind doing me a favour?"
George nodded without too much thought. "Yeah sure. What is it?"
"If you see Mick and Y/N go towards an elevator, stop them and tell Y/N that a guy asked for her number, uh, who was that footballer... ah yes, João Félix, him... he did ask her yesterday right?" Toto looked over at George.
"Uh, yeah. Before you dragged her away... listen, Toto, I'm not sure I can do what you asking me to. I thought none of us were going to mess with whatever's going on between them?"
"You're young, George. One day you'll realise what 'desperate times calls for desperate measures' means. So..." Toto trailed off, eagerly looking for an answer before spotting the hesitant expression on the British driver's face. "Can I pay you do the favour?"
George blankly looked at his boss. "I'm on your payroll, Toto. You already pay me. That also sounds like extortion and bribery."
Toto's eye twitched as an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. He stared at George heavily before giving in. "Fine. You'll be out before Lewis for this week's quali."
The corner of George's mouth teetered up, working to a small grin. "Extortion and bribery... it sounds cool," He said with a nonchalant shrug.
Toto shook his head to himself. "You can try and be less British, George. Just because your ancestors colonised doesn't mean you need to take the same behaviour," He patted his shoulder before leaving, feeling George's confused expression bore into the back of his head.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Toto was a great man. But today was one of those days where George really did question him. Part of him was praying that he didn't see you and Mick head to an elevator. The scenario was so specific that well... the probability was low.
There was no way he was going to see it happen. Not even 30 minutes after he had this conversation and he had just grabbed a coffee and was now heading to Alex...
But the peak of that blonde hair and the familiar shine of your signature glasses caught George's eye. Christ.
"How is that possible?" He muttered to himself, eyeing the both of you as you waited for the elevator to go up the Mercedes' motorhome.
First in quali. Come on, George. You got this!
"Hey guys," George greeted the both of you.
You and Mick turned to him and smiled. "Hey George. How's it going? Ready for practice?"
George nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, yeah. Good, thanks. Uh, I was just wondering about yesterday... João? Since Toto dragged you away before you could do anything but he was just wondering if you would still consider giving him your number."
George pressed his lips, seeing Mick's eyes narrow from his peripheral vision. God how had the both of you not gotten together yet?
"I didn't know João asked you that?" Mick looked at you with questioning eyes.
You blinked, feeling your heart skip a beat slightly. You weren't sure why Mick's interest was to intriguing to you all of a sudden. You pursed your lips, looking to George. "Oh? I didn't know you knew João like that."
"I... don't. It's... Kika! Kika knows him... you know... Portugal things," He laughed awkwardly, giving a helpless shrug.
"Right..." You nodded slowly. "Uh, I don't know. I mean was considering it, I guess."
"You were?" George and Mick spluttered out in unison.
Your eyes widened at their reaction. "I mean, yeah... kinda?" You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly.
George could see the German driver's head racing a hundred miles per hour. It was time to get out of this mess.
"Okay, well, if you consider it, you could probably DM him on Instagram. Don't ask Kika!" George quickly said. "I mean... you know, she gets very excited to play cupid... anyways, I have to get back to Dudley, but let me know how it goes!"
You and Mick waved goodbye, heading onto the elevator after what felt like forever.
As the doors closed, you looked over at your thought-consumed best friend. "Penny for your thoughts, Mr Schumacher?" You humoured.
Mick briefly smiled before returning to his brooding state. He folded his arms, leaned on the wall of the elevator and stared at you.
Your mouth felt dry and yet you were drowning in your own saliva. There were certain things that weren't healthy for humans: too much sugar, high cholesterol foods, and apparently air-drying your hair. And then there was too much Mick.
The folded arms and his stupid shirt brought your eyes to the muscles you had so desperately been avoiding after Mick had started to work out even more in the past year.
You cleared your throat, trying to think of another topic of discussion.
In your pondering, Mick opened his mouth. "I don't think you should give João your number," He said, bringing his hands to his side, discreetly allowing the fabric of his shorts to soak up his clammy hands.
Your eyes flickered towards his face. You raised brow. "What? Why?" You asked, feeling an uneasy ache gnaw at your chest.
"I..." Mick started, "I mean what if he's a bad guy? You know... I wouldn't want you to get hurt."
Your heart dropped. You felt like an deflating balloon: all blown up, only to be taken down. You mustered a soft smile. "I mean, you can't protect me forever Mick. What are you going to do? Vet the guy on the day of my wedding," You joked.
Mick frowned at your response. The image of you marrying someone that wasn't him was disheartening.
"I won't need to if you get married to someone you know," He shrugged. "You don't know João. You know me."
Oh?
Oh.
You almost did a double-take on your best friend. Did he know what words were falling from his lips. "So what? He's kinda cute. And a five-star FIFA player. I could take the risk. And eventually, I would know him... since that's how relationships work... communication and all," You defended the footballer.
Mick stared at you for a few seconds before blinking out of his short trance. "Right..." He said sharply, pushing himself off of the wall as the elevator opened. He struck out his arm, holding back the door. "You go on. I just remembered I need to talk to Toto."
You flickered your eyes to Mick, trying to read his face. "That's fine, we can go togeth–"
"No," Mick interjected, "it's... it's okay."
Upon the slight widening of your eyes and the startled expression lingering on your face, Mick's innate action was to internally wince. "I'll join you soon. Don't worry. I bring your favourite pastry on the way back, hmm?"
You nodded silently, taking a step out of the elevator and headed towards the lounge with a troubled feeling nagging at your head.
Had you struck a nerve?
━━━━━━━━━━━
Toto couldn't tell what he had done wrong. You and Mick were fine this morning. But after he had told George to push things along between the both of you, a sense of distance radiated off of you.
And George still got out before Lewis for the first quali. Goddamn it.
When Toto raised an eyebrow at you after Mick had slightly brushed you off to talk to Bono, you simply shrugged helplessly.
That night Toto did not get a wink of sleep. Instead, he stared at this hotel ceiling with a twitching eye.
There was nothing he couldn't fix. Whatever was going on between you and Mick right now was just a small bump in the road.
The solution?
A baseball game.
Unfortunately for Toto, baseball wasn't that popular in Brazil. But that didn't mean they didn't do them.
The plan was going perfectly. Toto had offered a 'family day' and gotten you and Mick to join him and Susie to attend a local baseball match between some of university teams. Toto made sure you and Mick were sitting behind him so you had all the privacy you needed. As a dad, he shouldn't be that happy about kiss-cam, let alone bribing the camera operators with the help of Pierre and Kika. But he wanted peace and he was going to get it.
But nothing was easy in life. And Toto could not have predicted this in a million years.
As everyone waited for the game to start, Toto timidly turned his head. He caught the brown eyes of the five-star FIFA player. Giving him a hesitant smile, he averted his own eyes back to the field, cursing himself under his breath. "Scheiße," He muttered through his clenched teeth. Shit.
The tension in the air was thick, to say the least. You sat between João and Mick with blank expression.
João, who was in town for the F1 race, decided to stay back to support a friend in the match. Obviously.
When the footballer on your right extended his hand to Mick, you sucked in a sharp breath. You heavily eyed the firmest handshake you had seen in your life. Letting out a nervous laugh, you sat down before the gesture turned into hardcore glaring.
Still, there was the hope of this kiss-cam.
Toto waited with little patience, hearing João crack jokes in Portuguese that actually made you laugh while Mick took deeper breaths.
It felt like life itself had been poured into Toto once the kiss-cam started on the public. This mattered to him more than whoever was going to win this match.
Toto's face dropped as the camera fell on you.
Your mother pointed at the camera with a gleeful exclamation. Your eyes moved to the screen, widening when you saw yourself and the man next to you.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Toto exasperated quietly.
You turned your head to the right, meeting the equally shocked brown eyes.
"In what way does he look like 'a blonde boy with the face of the greatest racer in F1 history'?" Toto said into his hands, shaking his head slowly.
Mick looked blankly at you and João on the screen before turning to you. He watched you shake your head softly, smiling awkwardly at the camera as the crowd urged you to kiss.
"Oh mein Gott," You murmured to yourself, eyes darting around in panic. Oh my God.
Suddenly, you felt Mick lean in, his fingers sliding under your chin and resting on your cheek. He turned your head slightly towards him.
Your eyes widened upon meeting his baby blues, feeling unnerving giddiness swarm you. You hoped your face screamed, "What are you doing?!"
All Mick did give a small smile, bringing his lips towards you.
Instinctively, your eyes closed, bracing yourself whatever was about to happen. All you could hope for was that this was all a dream of some sort. Maybe you fell asleep in the car?
You skin flushed at the feel of Mick's soft lips on your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open, feeling him linger for a second longer before pulling back.
What on earth?
You weren't sure if you were breathing as you felt his hand move to your leg, covering your hand and giving it a small squeeze. You moved your eyes to the screen. Mick looked unbothered while the crowd erupted in cheers and boos. You, on the other hand, looked flushed.
And Toto?
The urge to run around with his hands flailing in the air was strong.
This was a home run, for crying out loud!
Whoever said jealousy was a disease... thank you!
━━━━━━━━━━━
"Liebling, du solltest jetzt rauskommen," Your mother said to you through the bathroom stall you had been hiding in for the past five minutes. Darling, you should come out now.
You winced as you banged your head against the wall of the stall. You sighed. "I don't think I can. Do you think you can convince the staff the bring a bed? Maybe some food?"
Your mother snorted. "What are you going to do? Live here?"
"Ja. War das nicht offensichtlich?" You retorted, eyes screwing themselves shut after replaying the kiss in your head for the umpteenth time. Yes. Was that not obvious?
Susie sighed, awkwardly smiling at a woman leaving the bathroom. "Y/N... it's Mick. You can't ignore him forever. How long do you think it will truly take for Mick and your father to storm in here after not seeing you for so long?"
You sighed at your mother's response. She was. As always.
The last thing you needed was a headline on ESPN: Toto Wolff and Mick Schumacher caught barging into a women's bathroom.
Christian would have a field day!
You shuddered at the thought.
Susie's ears perked up at your grumble as you fumbled with the lock of the stall. She sported an amused smile at the blank look you gave her.
Slinging an arm around you, she rubbed your shoulder. "Come on, liebling. You got this."
━━━━━━━━━━━
"Oh thank God!" Toto exclaimed after seeing you and your mother come out of the bathroom. "You took forever!"
You narrowed your eyes at your father, avoiding the lingering eyes of a certain German boy. "Maybe next time you shouldn't feed me a hotdog at a baseball game, right?" You pressed with a raised brow.
"Hmm?" Toto mended his brows before nodding profusely. "Right! Right! Yes... that was my bad. Poor thing... you know, Mick, with Y/N being sick and all, I think you should drop her to the hotel. Me and Susie still have a date to go on!"
You and your mother looked at Toto increduolously.
"We do?"
"You do?"
Toto nodded, grabbing your mother's hand. "Yes! Okay, see you two! Tschüss!" Bye!
With a jaw-dropping expression, you watched your parents leave with a twitching eye.
You heard Mick clear his throat.
Slowly, you turned around with a small smile. Fiddling with your fingers, "So..."
Mick rubbed the back of his neck nervously, a small tinge of pink dancing across his cheeks. "The hotel?" He asked, swinging his keys around the his index finger.
Silently, you both walked out of the stadium and towards the car park.
You furrowed your brows upon seeing the orange and pink laden sky. "What the heck? How is the sun already setting?"
"I mean... you were in there for a long time," Mick shrugged.
The crisp summer evening breeze glided past your flushed skin. Your body winced at the paining silence ensuing between the both of you. You let out a small exhale. "Uh, with the thing before–"
"Yeah?" Mick eagerly turned his body towards you, on edge.
You cleared your throat at the anxious expression Mick sported. "You sighed. "Uh, that was to like... save me, right? Aus Verlegenheit? Danke für das." From embarrassment? Thank you for that.
Mick mended his eyebrows. "Verlegenheit? No. I... that was so you didn't kiss João."
You laughed nervously. "Right! So I didn't have to kiss João."
"No. So you didn't kiss João. There's a difference," Mick pointed out, eyeing your expression carefully.
Your eyes widened at his suddenly soft gaze. You looked up at the sky, hoping the breeze would cool the wave of warmth swirling around you. "That's... that's what I said," You shrugged.
Mick stepped in front of you, forcing you to look at him instead of the sky. "Why do you do that?" Mick asked.
"Do what?" You responded.
"I mean... I–just why do you have such a hard time admitting that I like you?"
You wish you had something to say. Anything. But it was as if the ability to speak had been seized from your throat entirely.
"I mean I know I don't make it obvious. I just thought we had some sort of understanding... you know... the one without words?"
You looked up into his hopeful eyes. Entranced, you leaned in towards him. Your fingers danced across his cheek just the way he had done not so long ago. You watched his eyes close at the feel of your touch, making your heart thud against your chest.
Inching closer, your thumb gently swiped over his lips, feeling his faltering exhale warm the pad of your thumb. "So pretty," You whispered to yourself, eyeing his face.
Mick wasn't sure whether you were talking about him or his lips but he didn't care.
You shuddered, feeling Mick's hand slide around your waist, bringing you closer to him.
Without waiting a second longer, you pressed your lips to his.
Mick's lips were softer than you had imagined, warm to the touch. Your stomach churned upon feeling his fingers skate under the hem of your shirt, rubbing tingling circles on your hot skin.
You hear an unrecognisable breathy gasp fall from your lips. The hair on your body stood straight as goosebumps littered your skin. All because of Mick.
Mick took advantage of the moment, darting his tongue to explore your mouth. He groaned against your lips, pushing your hips even closer to him, feeling the hard outline of his bulge rub against your pelvis.
Fuck.
You were going to combust at this rate.
Mick trembled in your grasp as your hands wandered his taut torso, lingering closely to his v-line.
He pulled away with an indescribable urgency, staring at you with small pants falling from his lips. He held your face with his hand, thumb gliding across your swollen lips. "We can't–" He sighed out, voice hoarse, "No more. Please."
Your thighs clenched at his plea, eyes falling down to his prominent bulge. You were sure he was in a lot of pain right now. The sexual tension between you to had been pent up for years now.
Your tongue darted out, swiping over his thumb briefly before faintly sucking on it. You looked up at Mick. "You're right, we shouldn't," You nonchalantly told him.
Mick's blue eyes danced with a tortured pain, following your tongue carefully. "We... fuck, Y/N," He complained, feeling impossibly tight in his pants.
"We fuck? Direct much?" You teased, removing your lips from his thumb.
Mick stared at you, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "I was saying... we should do this properly. Not in some parking lot."
"Why not? Car sex is hot. Just imagine!" You urged, amused by the conflict in Mick's eyes.
Imagine he did.
You and him in his God forbidden Mercedes... him making sure every inch of his car was stained with you...
Mick sucked in a sharp breath. "Nope. Come on. Hotel."
You gasped humorously. "In a hotel? Mick Schumacher! Well I never!"
Before you knew it, Mick had whisked you into his arms and into his car, hoping he was not breaking Brazil's speed limits tonight.
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
#mickyschumacher#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#mick schumacher imagine#mick schumacher x reader#mick schumacher x you#mick schumacher#formula 1
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Your Guardian Angel
Sunday x g/n!reader
Summary: oh guardian angel, my sweet guardian angel. Save me, Save me. If you can't, what're you truly for? When your angel loves you, when he betrays destiny for you; only for his wings to be chipped at the expense of a helpless attempt.
Cw. Very angsty, falling in love (but it's forbidden), religious references (specifically Christian topics) AU where ppl can talk to their angels lol, mentions of self harm but no actual scene with it!!!, no bandaid can fix the emotional wound after reading this. SOME fluff, no comfort like usual. 🫨🫨🫨 YOU DIE!
A/n: I'm on fire (like literally. It's 36° here.)
Your knees burn as you stare up at the altar displayed in front you, you wonder if the aeons would be kind enough to finally send you your guardian angel.
“Please,” you begged, wishing any god to heed your call, “Just this once I'll ask.”
“Send me someone kind, someone to protect me.”
That day, fate was generous enough to grant you your angel.
A chill ran down your spine, rubbing your eyes for good measure to make sure you weren't dreaming.
“You called?”
You gulp nervously, the being's halo blinding you.
One, he reached his hand out to you, his smile all you needed to feel okay.
Your guardian angel accompanies you whenever you go out to buy groceries, when your fingers trace along the unhealthy snack bar, he's quick to tut and swat your hand away.
“That's unhealthy, dear.”
“But—”
“Just this once?”
He shook his head no, feeling distraught, you devised a plan to grab a pack of double chocolate cookies; much to his dismay.
Who did you think you were fooling?
“Dear, I said no.”
You sighed, “Just one?”
Out of all the humans on the list, why'd he pick you? But when you smile at him so brightly, out of every human he's ever guided, he's still unsure of his answer—
Your shoulders slump, “Pretty please?”
He exhales an exasperated sigh, letting you win over him just this once.
“Fine.”
— Maybe he is, Maybe he isn't.
There were times nightmares were unkind and brutal that you'd wake up in cold sweat. Your mind flashing you memories of the past you wished to lock away, you'd pray again.
“Dear, wake up,” that familiar soothing voice ringing in your ears.
Where? The shackles of that dream still bruise you harshly, yet your loving guardian angel is there to soothe your scars.
“It's okay.”
It's not okay, you know.
No words were exchanged when he took your hand in his, his honey eyes seeing through you, “Just breathe.”
Your tears found solace in his shoulder as he patted your back, letting you cry it all out, “It hurts, Sunday.”
“I know,” his gloved hand wiping your tears gently, “I know.”
Like a child, for many dreadful nightmares to come, you cry and cry for him to relieve you of this pain. You needn't to get on your knees and ask the aeons for comfort. All you need to do is shed a single tear and he'll kiss them away.
Two, your oh so sweet guardian angel, he drives them all away.
Years pass and you've grown used to your guardian angel, you'd find him taking the form of an owl.
Like one time, you were in class— culinary class to be specific. Who knows what aeon decided to ruin your day and made you trip on a puddle of leftover batter on the tiled floor.
“Eek—!”
You'd think you'd hit head first but something held you up, when you turned around, there was no one there.
The owl perched on the branch just outside the window, shook its head in dismay, once again, you don't die today.
He may save you from all catastrophes but he cannot save you from impending doom.
As an angel, by all means, he has every right to read your destiny; woven by lord Xipe, of course.
Eyes narrowing at the scroll, your life ends early when you get roped into an unforeseen accident at a public event.
“Sunday, dear. 5 days until your host departs,” his beloved lord's voice echoing the room as they loom over his shoulder to watch your end unfold.
“We should find you a new human.”
Sunday trembled at the sight, a memory he wishes to never replay again. You were in an event and some drunkard decides to shoot it all up, bullets ablaze as you get caught in the crossfire.
“I…”
I mustn't disobey lord Xipe.
“Yes, lord Xipe,” he gave a weak smile to his god, your death still replaying.
How could he be fine?
When you tell him of your dreams, how you'd leave this wretched city, leave penacony and write your own fate; when destiny had already set yours in stone.
“Do you think I'll become big in the industry?”
The sunset falls upon you too and he doesn't have it in him to tell you what's bound to happen to you, “Yes.”
“You sound hesitant.”
“I'm just thinking.”
It wasn't often you see Sunday like… this.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “It's nothing.”
You two have been together long enough that it only takes you a second to realise the shift in the atmosphere, “Whatever, I'm going to be successful and we'll travel.”
He wonders if you noticed the way his wings are stiffening at your words, he may be an angel, “Sure,” but he is a liar first.
He doesn't want to think about it, he doesn't want to remember.
Your curious eyes never leave him, he wishes it did. He wishes he never got too attached.
That disgustingly sweet smile of yours, you'll never know that it made home in his head.
“Here,” he wore the rosary in your hand, it felt comforting feeling his gloved hand against your skin, “What is this for?”
He still doesn't have the courage to look you in the eye knowing 3 days from now they'd be devoid of light, “For protection, to show devotion to our god.”
You let out a hum of approval, admiring the beads.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes”
“I'm glad.”
Fleeting moments like these don't last. But when he musters up the courage to look you in the eyes again; he wishes that Lord Xipe was loving enough that this moment would.
Destiny is a strange thing. It gives you time to dream but never enough time to do.
Just where the hell were you?
Sunday panics as he flies over the crowd, exactly a minute before your death.
Lord Xipe must be cruel, watching from the stars as he scurries in the mortal realm like a rat to save a mere mortal like you.
“Sunday?”
‘Bang.’
You hear gunshots piercing the skies and those beside you.
“What's happening—”
“Just shut up,” angels were not allowed to be this crude but for your sake, he covered your eyes as he led the two of you behind a pillar.
Your gut instinct tells you to run but you've grown to trust him enough with your life. How could you not when he gently wraps his arms around your trembling figure?
“S-sun… day…,” you cried, feeling something piercing your stomach.
But how? He… he saved you didn't he?
“Stay calm,” he scolds you as if he wasn't scrambling around his options on how to save you, “Please.”
He prays, “Lord Xipe, please.”
But songs stay unsung, prayers remain unheard.
He cries to the sky as crimson stains his gloves, his holy tears cannot patch your wounds. His prayers cannot fix you. If he had known, he would not have sung those odes to lord Xipe, if only he had known his god's mercy was nothing but just strings of fallacies.
“Lord Xipe!”
An agonising scream that transcends the barrier of heaven and earth, yet his beloved god turned their back on him.
Your eyes shut then he felt the hand that intertwined with him go limp, “Lord Xipe.”
In desperate sobs, “Please.”
No amount of begging would bring you back, just like his sister, Robin, you are dead, you are gone.
Not being able to save you— he's betrayed you.
He kissed your cheek before letting death take you.
My God, why have you forsaken me?
He has no time to mourn, “It burns,” under the scrutinising gaze of the divine, his wings turn charcoal black.
Lord Xipe is all forgiving yet they have abandoned him for something so little.
A god so forgiving, yet when Sunday looks down at his hands, only a shade of balsam and black stare back at him.
There is no redemption for his sin, there is no redemption for either of you.
You can no longer dream, he can no longer dream with you.
His halo crumbles into ash and an undeniably painful grief fills him, “Lord xipe.”
His radiant halo no more, only to be replaced by the glow of the sunset like a crown of thorns.
He cries again, his god is gone and you are too.
Note: forgive me if its kinda shit, i really can't think of an angst idea for sunday that isn't yandere since im not rlly big about yan tropes anddd not proofread. I hope y'all enjoyed it tho, i just needed to get this idea out of my brain. Sunday is vv manipulative but i js wanted to write a ver of him thats just gentle ISTFGGGGGG
Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡
#what have i done#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr fluff#hsr x reader#sunday x reader#sunday fluff#hsr sunday#hsr angst#hsr sunday x reader#honkai star rail sunday#honkai star rail sunday x reader
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if you're too shy, part 2 (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)
remember those gigs you and matty got scheduled to cover in part 1? yeah. this is them. enjoy <3
“hey.”
matty's curls bounce as he looks up at you quickly. a mild sense of guilt gnaws at your ribs when you realise you've spooked him, but it dissipates when he smiles, visibly relaxing when he realises it's you breaking him from his concentration. “oh, hi. you alright?”
you nod, gesturing to the vacant desk next to his. “am i ok to sit here?”
“yeah, of course. no need to ask. here, let me,” matty slides his notebook out of your way; as you lay your laptop down and sit, you can see him biting back a beam from the corner of your eye, and your heart flutters. “was there anything you needed, or…? not that there has to be, you know,” he sits up straight, apology settling itself on that gorgeous face of his. “i didn't mean it like that, i just meant-”
“no, i know, matty,” you smile softly. “there is, incidentally, but also i just wanted to sit next to you.”
there he goes with the blushing again - honestly, you reckon you could make a fortune if you bottled and sold the colour of matty's cheeks when you fluster him. although, you suppose, maybe the colour is only appealing because of whose face it's on.
said face is grinning at you again. “well, feel free, anytime.”
“likewise.”
“i'll take you up on that,” matty's smile gets impossibly wider, before he catches himself and controls it a little. “so, what is it that you need from me?”
the sloppiest kiss known to man. “advice, actually,” you put your glasses on, preening internally at the way matty's breath catches in his throat as you do, and open spotify on your laptop. “where should i start with this band we're going to see twice this weekend?”
matty's face brightens even more - impossible, you'd have thought. “oh. well, do you know any of their stuff already?”
you shake your head. “very bad of me as a music journo, but no,” you smile cheekily. “this is my first time. need you to talk me through it.”
the way matty coughs and tries to pass it off as him clearing his throat at your words is delicious. to be fair to him, he recovers quickly, the only sign of him being flustered the way his cheeks periodically twitch into a smile and back down again. “alright, so… i think i’d probably start with their second album - can i?” at your approval, he slides your laptop closer to him and scrolls down the band’s spotify profile to find the album in question. “their first is good, yeah, but the second one is where they really start to define their musical identity…” he trails off, covering his mouth.
you blink in concern, leaning into him. “you okay, matty?”
“yeah, i just,” he sighs, then giggles into his hand. it’s maybe the best thing you’ve ever heard. “i realised i was starting to sound a bit like patrick bateman.”
“oh my god,” you snort, covering your own mouth as you laugh. “christ, you were. was this band’s early work too new-wave for your tastes and all?”
“little bit. i think their undisputed masterpiece is album two - literally a personal statement about the band itself,” matty smiles, then winces. “that was embarrassing.”
you shrug. “nah, i like that film. and not just because i think christian bale’s fit in it.”
“i was gonna go as him for halloween this year, actually,” matty says, nonchalantly scrolling through spotify again. “would that be weird?”
fuck. matty in a suit? potentially covered in blood? you have to readjust the way you’re sitting at the mere thought. so, naturally - “i think you should do it.”
“yeah?”
“yeah,” you smile, matching matty’s. “i’d enjoy it, at least.”
“that’s all the convincing i need,” he smiles sweetly at you, then gestures to the laptop. “so, d’you wanna know a bit about their influences before you listen?”
“go on, then.”
“alright,” matty shuffles his chair closer to you; you sit up slightly straighter as goosebumps pass over your body, increasing tenfold when he looks directly into your eyes. from this close, his are warmer than you initially realised, and you have to work extremely hard to focus on what he's saying instead of drowning in them. “to be fair, you weren't totally far-off with the new-wave joke - their music is rooted in post-punk subculture, but more along the melodic, jangly-guitar, early eighties type. you know aztec camera, yeah? convinced i saw you wear a high land, hard rain shirt to work once.”
the butterflies nesting in your stomach flutter at his recollection. “yeah, that's right. same vibe as them?”
“kinda. similar to a lot of scottish and northern bands of that era. which is weird, considering they're all about thirty and from fucking newark.”
“i see,” you nod, smiling at the way matty's twirling one of his curls. “any springsteen influence, then? not to stereotype, but… eighties-inspired music by people from new jersey? seems like there could be connection.”
matty nods enthusiastically. “yeah, great question. i mean,” he puffs air through his lips quite adorably. “lyrically, yeah, and they have quite prominent sax parts in some of the songs that are quite e street band. but the inspiration seems to be mostly melodic post-punk. does that all make sense?”
you smile, leaning on your elbow. “yeah. you're very good at explaining things. i like that about you.”
“really?” matty blushes again. “sometimes i worry that i'm just talking shite, to be honest. i know i've got a tendency to ramble a bit, always have. it annoys people, i think.”
“not me. you're always talking about something interesting. makes me feel good to talk to you.”
he clutches his hands into sweater paws again, smiling. “same. you're a sweet one, i think. m'excited that we're working a bit closer now.”
“nobody else i'd do this with, matty,” you hold out your hand, and squeeze his when he lays it atop yours; a perfect fit, you note. “you're my favourite.”
he genuinely looks like he could cry, softly rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand and speaking even softer than that. “likewise, darling.”
for a second, you do nothing but beam at each other, still tentatively holding hands; it's only when your laptop pings with an incoming email that you break out of your reverie and apart. matty clears his throat. “would you like to know which order i recommend listening to the albums in?”
“please.”
he nods. “the second, then the most recent - which is the fifth, by the way. after that, i think i'd probably say… first, third, and fourth last. that one got a bit experimental, i doubt they'll play anything from it at either of the shows. d'you want me to just make a playlist of that order for you, while we're here?”
“oh, yes please,” you watch him do just that, a slight sense of longing settling itself in your bones when you think of a playlist so sorely him settled amidst all your favourite songs; actually, it gives you an idea. “i've got a final question for you, if that's okay, matty. well, technically two.”
“yeah?” he turns to look at you again, eyes disarmingly caring and focused on you.
“what's your absolute favourite song by the band? doesn't have to be the objectively best one, and you don't have to tell me why. m'just curious.”
matty smiles, the sun breaking through clouds. “that's easy,” he scrolls down the new playlist. “this one. that's my favourite.”
“alright,” you drag it to the top of the song list. “then that's the one i'll start with. and then i'll go onto the matty-approved listening order,” pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, you turn to face him. “that sound alright?”
“mhmm,” matty nods vigorously again, wild hair bouncing all over the place; a curl falls over his eye, and he brushes it away before peering up at you through his enviously-long lashes. “meant what i said earlier, you know. i really do think you're incredibly sweet.”
“thank you,” you all but whisper, doing your best to cover your own blushing. “um - what was i saying?”
he smiles. “you had another question, i think?”
“right, yeah. um,” your throat goes dry with sudden nerves, and you try to swallow as inconspicuous as you can to make it better. twisting your fingers together, you look down at them as you speak. “i've still got a restaurant review to do this weekend, and i was wondering if you, like, wanted to go for dinner before saturday’s show? that italian, near camden road station? and you can say no, of course, no hard feelings, but,” you can feel your cheeks burning as you tentatively look up at him. “i'd just like to hang out with you a little bit longer this weekend. i like spending time with you.”
“oh,” matty breathes, blinking as if he can’t quite believe he isn’t dreaming - you hope that’s the reason, at least. he bites his lip, cheeks rosy as he looks up at you with a smile, and nods. “yeah, i’d love that. thank you.”
“thank you, for agreeing,” you exhale, nerves replaced by tingling excitement. “is half four too early? that would give us time to eat, and walk to the roundhouse before doors, yeah?”
“that works for me,” matty nods. he twirls his hair again. “d’you want to just meet at the restaurant? cos that’s the station i’d get off at, camden road. but i don’t mind meeting you off the tube, if you like.”
“no, no, it’s alright. i’ll just get you there - i’m not gonna make you brave the high street when you don’t need to,” you giggle. “especially on a saturday afternoon, christ.”
he huffs out a laugh, but his eyes are tender - so is his voice, when he replies. “alright. i’d do it for you, though, no complaints.”
you believe him. you aren’t sure if you’ve ever seen someone look so sweetly sincere, and it’s fucking your brain up. big-time.
still, you hold it together long enough to reply. “you’re cute, healy, even if i think you’re a bit mad for offering to walk through camden just to get me,” you giggle at the way his jaw drops at the compliment. “you can get me at angel on friday, though, if you fancy? makes sense, if you’re already walking down from highbury.”
“i’ll be there at six,” matty smiles. “i’m excited to hear what you think of the band, you know. i think you’ll like them.”
“well, if you do, then i’m sure i will. you’ve got good taste,” you gather up your laptop and stand, turning to matty with a flirty grin. “speaking of - i like that jumper. you look hot in red, matty. really hot. anyway,” you bite back a grin at the little gasp he lets out. “thanks for all your help, lovely.”
“anytime!” he calls after you when you turn to walk away, deliberately swinging your hips slightly more than usual - you’re convinced you hear a muffled “fuck” before he speaks properly. “and, um, thanks for, y’know, liking my jumper.”
you look over your shoulder and wink, happiness bubbling through your body when you notice matty shifting his gaze from your ass to your face so hastily it’s a wonder his neck didn’t snap. “friday at six, yeah? don’t be late.”
“i won’t!”
and he’s true to his word - when you come up the escalators at angel station at five minutes to six on friday, matty’s leaning against the wall opposite you. he grins, a big toothy eye-crinkling smile that has your heart doing backflips, and waves as you walk over to him. “hi! i like your jacket.”
“oh, thank you,” you self-consciously touch the fluffy collar. “have you been waiting long?”
“not really. ten minutes?”
“that’s not too bad. shall we?” you wander out into the chilly evening air, matty matching pace beside you. “you ever been to a show here before?”
“yeah. what a fucking weird venue,” matty steps closer to you to avoid being run over by a bike, and your heart flutters; you’re actually sad when he moves away. “i like it inside, but-”
“the fact it’s literally in the middle of a shopping centre is insane?”
“completely mental.”
“a really strange bit of urban planning,” you smile, turning to him as you wait at a set of traffic lights. “i listened to the playlist you made me, by the way. even learned some of the words.”
matty laughs. “you like them, then? that’s good. knew you would, though.”
you nod, fighting the urge to grab his hand as you cross the road. “played your favourite song about ten times on loop. i had no idea it was going to end up being a love song, by the way…”
“yeah, the title’s a bit misleading.”
“...but it really works. i can see why it’s your favourite,” you gently nudge your shoulder into his arm. “like i said the other day, you’ve got good taste.”
he looks down at the pavement, smiling, then at you. fuck, he’s so cute. “so do you, darling,” he says, voice so soft you can hardly hear it over the bustle around you. “i really like your outfit.”
the hour spent upending your entire wardrobe onto your bed to pick it out was absolutely worth it. “thank you. i figured, y’know, since i’m technically not working,” you smirk at him. “i’d make the effort for going out. tomorrow, though, when i’m on-shift? not a chance.”
“you’ll still look great, i reckon,” matty says, easy as breathing; ironically, the ease of his words practically stops your own breath. “and yeah, i s’pose you really aren’t working tonight. when was the last time you went to a gig just for fun?”
“it’s been a while,” you admit. “and i miss it, actually, getting to just experience new artists without having to analyse and critique them. that’s part of the reason i’m excited to be going tonight.”
“i get that,” matty nods as you turn into the venue entrance. “and what’s the other part?”
you grin. “the fact i’m going with you.”
once again, matty blushes. “if you keep throwing me off with compliments the whole night, i literally won’t get any work done. but thank you. m’glad you agreed to come with me tonight.”
“i’m glad you asked,” you turn to him once you join the line to get in. “and you’ll get your work done, don’t worry. i promise to be good.”
for the most part, you actually succeed at that, and it’s largely due to how bloody good the band are. for all the venue is in a weird place, it really is a decent one - it’s so intimate that even you, who only started listening to the artists onstage this week, feel like a proper part of it. and, free of note-taking responsibilities, you can allow yourself to be made giddy by the coloured lights and loud melodies, to dance as best you can on the sticky floor, to sing along to the scraps of lyrics you recognise and join in the backing vocals with the rest of the crowd. that was always your favourite part of a concert, the moments where hundreds of voices just worked as one, identities dropping and merging to prioritise the music; it’s nice to be in it, for once, rather than doing your best to observe and capture and convey it in words. you leave that to matty, and mostly leave him be aside from the odd smile and laugh, always responded to warmly by him.
that is, until they play his favourite song, and the boy beside you becomes impossible to ignore.
the singer says something about this being the last song of the night, before beginning the now-familiar melody on his guitar. matty’s head snaps up at the first few notes, and his notebook snaps shut; you turn to him at the noise, smiling at the excitement on his face, even more radiant than usual under the pink lighting. he looks at you with a matching smile, curls bouncing as he nods along to the music, before turning back rapt towards the stage. you follow suit, soaking up the lyrics about wanting and yearning and falling fast for someone - hearing those words with that person beside you sends goosebumps shooting across your skin and sparks through your nervous system, the same kind of kinetic energy crackling in the space between you and matty. it’s so strong you have to uncross your arms, stretching your fingers out by your side. mortifyingly, they brush against the back of matty’s hand, and the sparks become shockwaves; not so much born out of fear, but of the same kind of longing the singer is musing about. he doesn’t seem to mind the contact, hand staying put despite it, and something in your brain just says fuck it and snaps.
tentatively, more so than you think you’ve ever been before, you loop your fingers around matty’s, and you hold his hand. and, quite honestly, nothing has ever felt quite so right as this. the shockwaves in your nervous system fade to a gentle hum, kinda like the reverb from the speakers, with only a tiny jolt when matty gently squeezes your hand in response.that’s how you stay for the rest of the song, hand-in-hand facing the stage, both of you - unbeknownst to the other - smiling contentedly and mouthing the lyrics to the song you relate to.
it lasts a sickeningly short amount of time, though - as soon as the song ends, you and matty are all but pulled apart by a group of kids running towards the stage, shouting about setlists and drumsticks and god knows what else. matty chuckles, walking backwards towards the exit so he can talk to you. "that was good.”
“yeah,” you agree, although you’re not sure what he’s specifically referring to. “liked it a lot.”
“me too.”
there’s comfortable silence as you weave your way out of the venue and onto the street. you turn to say a reluctant goodbye to matty, but he beats you to it. “i’ll walk you to the station.”
“are you sure? you’ve got a bit of a walk in the other direction, matty.”
he shrugs. “it’s a nice night. i don’t mind.”
“cool,” you do your best to keep from smiling at the thought of an extra five minutes with him. “thank you.”
“s'alright,” matty smiles, leading the way down the street. “i've had a lot of fun tonight.”
“yeah, same here. they're really good!”
“aren't they? i'm excited to see their set tomorrow, see how it compares,” he hums happily. “i think this is gonna turn out to be a really good article, you know.”
“so do i,” you beam at him. “and i must say, i'm enjoying the process for this one much more than i have in a while.”
he giggles, and you have to fight the urge to hold his hand again. “well, if you think about it,” matty rubs his thumb over his bottom lip quite attractively. “it makes a lot more sense for us to do gig reviews together. music is something to be shared, after all, and live music especially, and so are our reviews - we probably get a better sense of it all if we're not by ourselves, don't you think?”
you don't even bother trying to hide how enamoured you are when you look at him. “i love the way your brain works, matty.”
“oh, shush,” he clutches the sleeves of his jacket over his hands, but beams anyway; it drops from his face when he notices the tube station sign up ahead. “well, i suppose this is where i leave you.”
the melancholia in his voice makes your heart sink. “yeah, i guess,” you sigh. “but not for long, though.”
“true,” matty's face brightens, and he reaches to take your hand and squeeze it gently. “thanks for coming, darling. i had a lot of fun.”
“thank you for having me,” you squeeze his hand in return, smiling at the way he looks down at your connected fingers in wonder. “text me when you get home?”
“of course. you too, please.”
“i will,” you let go of matty, pausing before you turn to walk away; quicker than your brain can convince you otherwise, you lean up to press a kiss to his soft cheek, before winking at his dazed expression and turning towards the station. “see you tomorrow, lovely.”
“bye,” comes the soft, delayed reply. you turn back to wave once you reach the escalator, then smile giddily to yourself the whole way home.
in fact, you don't think you stop smiling giddily for the rest of the night, or the next day; just the knowledge that you're going to see matty again keeps you in a state of sunniness, has you dancing around the flat and serenading your dog, who just looks at you like you're insane. a tiny part of your brain agrees with her, but how can you be expected to help it? you haven't been this excited to go on a date with someone in a long, long time.
well, it's not a date, officially. but walking into a dimly-lit italian restaurant with matty in tow, him taking your jacket and pulling your chair out for you like a perfect gentleman? it fucking feels like it. you wish it was.
even more so when he takes his own jacket off, revealing A) a short-sleeved shirt in the same colour of red you told him he looked hot in the other day, worn slightly open over a white tank; B) almost-unbelievably muscular arms; C) tattoos littered up said arms, and one on his chest just peeking out suggestively.
jesus fucking christ.
you can’t help but stare at matty, mouth agape, as he sits down. he giggles nervously when he notices. “what?”
the words leave your mouth before you can even think about stopping them. “matty… do you know how hot you are?”
he does the adorable blinking thing again. “you think i’m hot? me?”
“um, yeah, i have eyes,” you giggle, cheeks burning. keep it together, you stupid slut. “i didn’t know you had all those tattoos, actually. why don’t you show them off more?”
matty shrugs. “sometimes, people think if you have lots of tattoos, you’re like, i don’t know… scary, or unapproachable,” he opens the drinks menu. “that’s not the impression i wanna give off, you know? especially at work. like, you know me, i’m quite soft and quiet. i just think the tattoos look sick.”
god, you want to eat him alive.
“i understand,” you nod, leaning on your elbows. “and i also think they look sick. kinda sexy, i’d say, to be honest. anyway,” you bite back a smirk at matty’s flustered expression. “what sort of drink are you in the mood for?”
“oh, well… i don’t know, actually,” matty scans the menu, then meets your eyes. “i’m new to this sort of reviewing. what do you usually do first? talk me through it,” he must mistake your wide eyes after his last statement for horror, instead of slight arousal. “please.”
“okay. can i see the menu, please? right, fab, thanks,” you hold it open so you can both see the drinks list. “shit, this is extensive… reasonably priced, would you say?”
“for this part of london? yeah.”
“i agree. right,” you look at him, and the concentration with which he looks back almost throws you off. “because we haven’t picked out food and don’t know about flavour palettes yet, i’d avoid wine for the time being. anything too flavoured, actually - i reckon our best bets are either some sort of fairly neutral cocktail, or a spirit and clear mixer. you know, vodka soda, a g&t, that kind of thing.”
matty nods. “makes sense.”
“yeah. the exception to all of that, in my opinion, is champagne,” you smile. “but if i start drinking it, i won’t want to stop, and if i kick the arse out of this meal on the work credit card then marianne will kick mine, so…”
he laughs, and the warmth of it goes straight to your stomach. “classy girl,” he smiles, laughing even harder when you make a face. “well, i think you are. and,” he points at the menu. “i also think we should have negronis.”
“nice. alright, let’s move on to food,” you open another menu. “oh, thank god we came here so early - this decision might take me a while. sorry.”
matty smiles, the tenderness in his eyes only exacerbated by the flickering candlelight. “that’s alright, darling. we’ll take all the time you need. well,” he winces. “maybe keep it within the two and a half hours we’ve got until we need to leave for the gig. although i s’pose we could stay here another fifteen minutes if we got a taxi.”
you wave insouciantly. “we’ll be on time. and you’ll have fun, too. promise.”
“oh, i don’t doubt that.”
and you really do have fun, despite having to constantly remind yourself that you’re not on a date and are in fact at work. the two negronis you each have over the course of the meal continue to coax matty out of his shell - and thus, get you to fall even harder for him than you already have, which to be honest you didn’t think was possible after seeing his tattoos - to the point where he’s affectionately taking the piss out of you for stealing forkfuls of his dinner “for journalistic purposes”. but, all in all, he’s completely fascinated by the process of forming your review, taking interest in the subtleties of what makes somewhere good versus great, and marvelling at the breadth of your culinary knowledge (which you’re actually very proud of, being self-taught and all); he’s still raving about it as you walk - with plenty of time to spare, mind you - along chalk farm road towards the roundhouse. “i actually don’t know what i’m more impressed with, you or the food. genuinely. you’re incredible. and to think i was going to make you soup!”
you frown. “past tense? why?”
“you know too much about food. i won’t be able to impress you.”
“matty,” you turn to look at him, wide-eyed and crestfallen. “that’s not true at all!”
he scoffs, but not harshly. “come on, babe,” the nickname does something funny to your stomach. “i’m not upset about it, just thinking realistically. how is my nana’s carrot and coriander recipe gonna stack up against michelin-starred minestrone, or whatever? not at all, that’s how. and that’s alright!”
“matty. matty - alright, fine,” you clear your throat, stopping and standing with your hands on your hips. “matthew. listen to me, and listen good, yeah? right,” when he nods, blinking those pretty eyes, you continue. “soup is a whole different thing - in fact, all domestic cooking is, especially if you’re making something for someone you care about. i don’t want to be impressed by the technique, i want to be nourished. cared for. dare i say, healed. and, in that regard, i have no doubt that your nana’s recipe would fucking decimate any posh restaurant soup. alright?”
he nods, shyly peeking through his eyelashes. “alright.”
“thank you.”
the walk continues, silent for a few minutes until matty talks again. “you know,” he says, smile audible in his voice. “i didn’t think i’d find being lectured about soup sexy. and yet…”
“oh my god, stop it,” you giggle, although you’re simultaneously fighting the urge to skip along the path and secretly filing that piece of matty information away in your mind. just in case. “thanks, though.”
he shrugs, smirking. you’re into it. “just telling the truth. it’s my job, after all.”
“and here i thought you were flirting with me,” you smirk back. “shame,” you wink, speeding up slightly towards the venue; you drop into serious mode when you see several different door queues. “shit. where do we go, with the press passes?”
matty hums, looking around. suddenly, he takes your hand, gently leading you to a side door; you’re quite content with this, a sort-of fuzzy feeling overcoming you, so much so that you barely register him talking. “here we are. you ready, darling?”
you nod happily at him. “round two. let’s go.”
the night, at first, progresses a lot like the previous one - you spend the opening set dancing, singing along to the songs you know pretty well by now, leaning in to talk to matty about any discrepancies you see in performance between both nights while he diligently takes notes. when they close with his favourite song, again, you’re slightly dismayed that he continues to write, and you can’t repeat the hand-holding; pretty much as soon as you’ve thought that, though, matty leans into you to rest his head on yours and sing along to the lyrics, and the room seems to get brighter. out of both desire and necessity (you know how clumsy he is), you wrap an arm around matty’s waist, and you swear you can hear him smile. it’s warm, sweet, intimate without being weird, and you really don’t want to let go of him. ever.
eventually, once the song ends and the house lights come up in the break between sets, you do, pulling your notebook from your jacket pocket with a sigh. matty straightens up, stretches with a groan that should not be as attractive as it was to you, and smiles. “pasta tiredness hitting you too?”
“little bit,” you wince. “maybe dinner then dancing was a bad idea.”
he shakes his head. “nah. it’s been fun. i’ve really enjoyed it.”
“i’m glad to hear that,” you smile at him. “wouldn’t mind making a habit of it, actually.”
“really?” matty beams. “neither would i. maybe we can pitch it to marianne as an actual segment. like, restaurant pairings with gigs, potentially highlight local places near the venues we go to. yeah?”
it’s a fucking great idea. he goes all bashful when you tell him as much. “cool. we can maybe see her about it on monday, if she’s in.”
you nod. “of course. come and find me on monday morning, and we can come up with a proper pitch while we get this piece done, alright?”
“‘course,” matty nods, smiling when the lights drop and the audience scream. “right, i’ll leave you to your notes.”
“cheers,” you reply, reluctantly turning towards the stage. it isn’t that the gig is bad, at all - as you wrote in your notes, the band are talented, charismatic, well-rehearsed. it’s just extremely difficult to focus on them and your notebook when you have the boy of your dreams beside you, close enough to touch and kiss and dance with, singing along happily and doing a dorky little two-step that makes his hair bounce quite beautifully. every so often, the urge to turn and smile at him becomes too much to resist, and matty goes visibly - adorably - pink under the stark white lighting every single time he makes eye contact with you.
by the time the gig ends, you’re dead certain: you are down so incredibly deeply bad for matty healy, and you need to tell him as soon as possible.
as it turns out, the opportunity for that happens extremely quickly once you’re both out of the venue, talking and laughing and dissecting the show even further than you did in your respective notebooks as you leave, and it’s so romance-media smooth that you genuinely think a higher power might be involved. perhaps an apology from the universe by having a group of teenagers push you and matty apart at yesterday’s gig, this time a group of them push you closer together, bolting past you and screaming about catching the bus home - matty tugs you into him to stop you being completely bowled over, and turns so the two of you are right next to the building instead of in the firing line out in the open. his hands are warm against your waist and lower back, and so is his neck under your clasped hands; you have no recollection of putting them there, but you sure as shit aren’t going to move them anytime soon. if you did that, you’d further the distance between you, and why on earth would you want to do that, when you’re so close you can’t tell whose breath cloud is whose and the little flecks of gold in his dark eyes are visible to you for the first time?
no. you’ll stay as you are, thank you very much.
“you know that thing we were going to pitch to marianne at work on monday?” you whisper, heart pounding as you notice matty’s eyes flick to your lips. “the thing we want to make a habit of?”
“yeah,” matty breathes, the words so close to your lips you can practically taste them. “what about it?”
your lips part, and you take a shaky breath before you reply. “well, the thing is,” you bite your lip, and his pupils dilate. “i don’t think i want it to be a work thing, matty.”
a beat passes before he responds. “neither do i.”
thank fuck.
your eyes close in contentment. “matty?”
“yeah, darling?”
you reopen them, looking up at him - for the probably millionth time in two days, you don’t bother trying to hide the feeling in your gaze. “kiss me.”
that gorgeous face above yours cracks into a smile. “alright.”
and he does.
it’s exactly how you imagined he would be - a little bit sloppy, tentative with tongue, but so eager and giggly and just so caring that it doesn’t matter. on instinct, your hand roots itself in matty’s curls, and the little whine he lets out is probably enough to fuel your bedtime fantasies for a fortnight by itself. you smile into him, tracing your tongue around his lips before sucking on the bottom one and releasing it slowly. your head is spinning, from matty more than lack of oxygen, and you honestly don’t think you’ve ever been happier post-kiss in your life.
there’s a happy silence for a minute, save the two of you gasping for breath, broken by matty kissing you quickly again and grinning. “hi. and, also, wow.”
“indeed,” you beam up at him, gently twisting those pretty curls around your fingers. “you might’ve figured it out by now, but… i like you, in a more-than-platonic sense.”
“the kiss gave it away, yeah,” he giggles breathily. “i take it there’s no policy at work about making out with your colleagues? or, y’know, taking them out on actual, unrelated-to-work dates?”
“no such thing.”
matty smiles, pulling you in for another kiss. “well, thank christ for that.”
#mads muses#mads does writing#office nerd au#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fic#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fluff#matty healy x reader#matty x reader
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DID NOT KNOW YOU WRITE FOR SEB TOO!!
rbr!seb x reader who is actually so nice and sweet and innocent, but then seb is a little bitch who keeps making fun of her (all in good intentions bcz he has a crush on her) but then one day goes too far and reader starts crying and he freaks out lol (fluff + mild angst)
Sry this is long <3
sorry i LOVE this idea
SWEET OR SOUR. ❨ sebastian vettel x reader ❩
sweet as sugar — that’s what people always said when they talked about you. and since you arrived in the paddock, it was what everyone thought. you never had a bad word to say about anyone, you treated every person you came across with perfect humility and kindness.
and while, yes, you were perhaps a little green and naive, you were eager. red bull liked your enthusiasm, it made you the perfect intern.
however, you faced one problem: sebastian vettel. he was red bull’s primary driver, a very good one, and he found great satisfaction in teasing you. your innocence had attracted him the second he’d met you — a new victim for his fun. besides, you were very pretty.
“nice sweater,” he greeted you, glancing at the woollen sheep along the hem. you’d thought it was quite cute when you bought it, but the embarrassment that sebastian brought made it look like the ugliest thing ever. in truth, sebastian thought you looked adorable in it.
a few days later, you had thrown your hair quickly into two plaits for ease, keeping it out of your face. sebastian tugged on them at least seven times during the day, when you were trying to work or concentrate. it was laughable, the sight of the two of you mirroring children on a playground.
in spain, the weather was hotter than you’d expected and you had to resort to wearing the little summer dresses you had packed. sebastian spotted you the second you entered the garage. your legs on show, the dress showing off your body perfectly, sweat from the hot day beading on your forehead. his chest suddenly felt incredibly tight.
still, he’d found multiple things to tease you on during the day. forgetting a cup of coffee, spilling said coffee, not being able to reach the shelf you needed. if there was something he could make fun of you for, he’d find it.
it, and the heat, had rattled you a little. so much so that, in your briefing with christian, you’d tripped up and made a mistake in the notes. one that, if the team principal hadn’t caught it, would mean disaster for the race. thankfully, he had, and wasn’t too hard on you for it.
sebastian took a different stance.
“close one,” he hissed, when you were alone. your cheeks hadn’t cooled down yet, hurrying to double check absolutely everything before it got taken. “i’m surprised christian didn’t shout at you in front of everyone. he probably will soon, especially when you make more mistakes. you’re bound to, after all.”
his usual teasing had come at a bad time, or maybe his usual teasing had turned mean. but he didn’t go any further, freezing when he heard you sniffle. when he looked at you, spotting the hot tears spilling down your cheeks, he could have punched himself.
“fuck, no. don’t cry,” sebastian panicked, hurrying to grab a nearby napkin and force it into your hand. awkwardly, he rested a hand on your shoulder, which you quickly shoved away.
“why do you hate me?” you whispered, looking up at him. your brows furrowed, eyes wide and wet, and he sighed. “i’ve only ever been nice to you, and you go out of your way to make my life here hell. why?”
“i don’t hate you,” sebastian admits, slumping against the wall beside you. he wants nothing more than to reach out and dry your tears, to hold you close and make it all up to you. “the opposite, actually.”
it takes a moment, but it finally clicks, and your mouth falls open a little. he liked you? you’d always thought he was handsome, but his behaviour hadn’t exactly pointed to romance.
“i know i went about it wrong. like some seven year old boy who thinks being mean gets you the girl,” sebastian rubs at his eyes, straightening up when you walk over to him. “i’m sorry. i really am.”
“you’re an idiot,” you whisper, and sebastian chuckles.
“i think that’s the first mean thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses. “and i deserve a lot worse.”
he finally touches you then, palms resting on your cheeks and smoothing along your skin. you lean into them, somewhat glad of some affection.
“forgive me?” he pleads, flashing his most charming smile.
“hm. kiss me and i’ll decide.”
#🍾 ﹐ becca hits 1k!#🌙 ﹐ drabbles.#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#sebastian vettel blurb#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel drabble#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel imagine
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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Nine
Here’s the thing. Like, on one hand, Paul loves teaching. But on the other hand, I honestly think he’d be a terrible teacher. He’s genuinely trying to explain songwriting to this kid, and all I’m getting is that I should be able to just look at a piano and it’ll give me whatever I want. “So it’s really just . . .” *plays Martha My Dear* “. . . and from there, you know, like, um, there’s no – unless you stop yourself – there’s no stopping yourself.” Yes, thank you, Professor McCartney. Very informative. Good thing you’re a gorgeous genius because not a word of that lecture made any sense.
Seriously I am BEGging someone to write Paul and Ringo in the 20s as a cabaret duo! With Paul’s talents being songwriting, slutting it up, piano, and vocals and Ringo’s talents being tap-dancing, ventriloquist dummy impersonation, with the occasional piano, vocals, and sly winks. Maybe they meet George and John through organized crime, idk.
“They don’t just sort of come in your head, kind of thing?” “Yeah, sure. Fact, I had one this morning.” You know. As one does.
See, even Ringo’s on board with my plan. “Let’s make a silent movie.” And Paul. “In a club. That’s it. We’re in a band. We’re in a band, but we sell drugs.” And now they're stringing Paul up just for kicks. Maybe they could join the circus!
Literally the minute John starts being silly, Paul gets this fond look on his face and you can see the wheels turning like “quick, think of a way to get close to him.” And John’s into it. But they keep doing this seesaw thing and I can’t help but think how reminiscent it is of their dynamic as a whole.
“I see you’ve given up smoking, Richie.” “Yes, I have.” Reminds me of that classic, “I don’t even smoke,” thing. Seems like five-hundred years ago.
PLEASE tell me Peter Sellers and Ringo had a torrid love affair during the filming of The Magic Christian. The way Peter touches Ringo’s hair and his face! Ringo being a gentleman and getting Peter a chair! And I mean there’s plenty of queer coding between them in the film.
But also laughing my ass off at Peter’s reaction to their song-titles/lyrics/gibberish/other references code.
Yoko, you’re stone-cold and hilarious. “Or what we haven’t.” I honestly have mad respect for her complete disregard/disdain for the Beatles and their art only because that’s how they treat hers for the most part. But girl. You’re married to one of them. He genuinely does love them and what he does with them and you’ve got to respect that or go find someone else, you know?
Also, Paul does Not appreciate the attitude. “Or we’ll just sort of sit here and allow ourselves to be embarrassed. ‘Number nine . . .”
Aaand, just like that, Peter Sellers “must be off.” He lasted all of 1 minute 26 seconds. Weak. George and Ringo lasted fifteen years.
MLH is literally that annoying person that asks you a serious question about yourself just so he can use you as a segue to talk about his problems.
John: just recovering from the day, you know. Yoko: from the night. John: embarrassed (you have no right, dude, you literally played your sex tape for everyone like two weeks ago) Paul: Did not want that image, thanks very much.
It actually KILLS me though that we’ll never understand their code. Paul and Ringo will take it to their graves and no one else knows it and any footage like this we’ve got, and any code songs, will just be mostly uninterpretable for all time.
Okay these few minutes here are soooo special to me. It’s John at his peak lovely, sweet, gentle, kind self. He makes a joke at which Paul can only nod darkly which makes John realize just how bad of a place Paul’s in.
Paul wants them to get to work “achieve something every day.” But John knows he’s not in a good headspace to work and it’ll be shit and then Paul will spiral even more. So, he turns up the humor until Paul is sufficiently cheered.
And then, he says. “Guitars? I thought that’s what they do.” And Paul’s stammering. “Oh, that is what they do, but–” John stands up, does a little head-tilt toward the instruments. “Come on, I’ll even show you about half a song I was writing. Come on.” That last in the tenderest, most coaxing voice. It’s just soooo. Like. We talk a lot about Paul ‘handling’ John, and he did. But John sure knows how to handle Paul.
I SO wish they’d have done something with “Madman”. It’s so fun!! Every single song in this era I will go to bat for, no question.
Ringo’s little hug for Paul!!!! I can’t.
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Second Circle Of Hell - Osferth (The Last Kingdom)
I got this idea while I was in church...because my pastor is kinda good looking...cough. i'm such a sinner, i must corrupt the babey
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), dubcon, femdom (mostly), corruption kink, innocence kink, virginity loss, religious conflict, religious guilt (not me projecting🙈), think that's it?
2.9K Words🤙🏻
Ever since pious and devout Christian monk Osferth joined the party of Uhtred, you've had your eye on him in deep intrigue.
The young man seemed so innocent, too innocent. You often wondered what dirty secrets he could be hiding.
Now, you may have just been a lecherous heathen that everyone who wasn’t a Dane said you were. You were practically a whore in your own right, so maybe anyone who acted relatively kind was innocent to you.
You never shied away from being yourself, especially in front of your group of men. Perhaps it was the way you were raised. You had no trouble changing in front of people, knowing that you could protect yourself if any of them would be stupid enough to make a move. Uhtred had already made that mistake once, but he never did it again after you put your dagger to his balls. You also never feared to bathe near the group, plus it was safer than going off on your own and you didn’t care if they saw you. You loved making your boys uncomfortable as well.
A memory that always stuck with you is when you were bathing in a river one day and Osferth accidentally saw you. He spoke apology after apology until his face turned beet red, but all you did was laugh. You had asked him for your clothes but he handed them to you with his eyes closed. That was the only moment when you were disappointed a man didn’t try to take advantage of you for once.
There was a day in Winchester where you, Finan, and Osferth were sitting outside a tavern. You could see how nervous and shy the boy was around women, and then Finan said it. He joked that Osferth was a virgin. He did that thing where he denied it so much that it must’ve been true, and that’s what you had your idea. You knew you’d want to be the one to deflower him, lest Finan actually bought him a whore one day like he said he would. No, you wanted to claim him for yourself. You just had to find the right moment.
Thankfully, there came a time when Uhtred had asked you and Osferth to spy on a Danish camp. It would be dangerous obviously, but you couldn’t help but celebrate in your mind when you realized the two of you would finally be alone together. It looked like Osferth was just happy he was being trusted with such an important task, although you would be there too.
You both set up camp a good distance away from the Danes’ campsite, some ways deep into the woods, making sure there would be no way they could spot you or hear you. You watched them all day, returning to your own campsite as the sun started to set. The trees blocking the light of the moon that you had to build a campfire to see as well as keep warm. But, you soon started thinking of other ways you could keep warm.
Osferth was nervous, you could tell. He didn’t look you in the eyes unless he had to. He probably would have preferred to go on this mission with Finan or Sihtric, but he had to deal with you alone now.
You tried your best to make conversation, but it never lasted more than a few sentences. It was frustrating. So, you did what you usually do best: make people uncomfortable.
“Have you ever been with a woman?” You asked suddenly, amused at the way Osferth immediately went wide-eyed and a wild blush coming to his cheeks. “I heard what Finan said at that tavern the other day, you seemed flustered as you are now.” He stuttered, no full words leaving his mouth due to your boldness. It gave you your answer. “So, I suppose Finan was right. You are a virgin.” You smirked teasingly.
Osferth finally quit his stuttering and sighed in defeat. “So what if I was?”
“You are a handsome lad, surely there have been offers from women before?”
“I mean…yes. Some.”
“And you never thought to take up those offers?”
He looked down in embarrassment. “It’s not like I didn’t want to, it’s just. I dunno, I feel like I wouldn’t want my first time to be with a stranger. Someone I don’t care about or know.”
“So would you hump someone you cared about?”
“When we were married, I suppose.”
You scoffed. “Why wait till marriage?”
“Because it’s a sin to be with someone before marriage, that’s what the Scripture says.”
“And what if you never get married?” You asked with an exasperated chuckle.
“Then I guess I’ll always be a virgin…” He shrugged, “Do you think me less of a man, my Lady?”
You shook your head with a smile. “No. I’m actually kinda glad you are.” He furrowed his brows in confusion, not understanding what you meant. “Because I wish to be the one to deflower you.” As if he couldn’t get any redder, he managed to do so, especially when you moved closer to him so you sat right beside him. He blinked a few times in shock, holding the cross attached to his necklace tightly.
“My Lady, I-I just told you, I can’t.”
You snickered. “Of course you can. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Osferth. I saw how your cock swelled when you saw me naked in the river that day. Did you even relieve yourself afterwards?” He stayed silent, and you hummed in disapproval. “What? Is it a sin to make yourself come too?” He nodded curtly and you rolled your eyes, placing your hand on his knee, slowly trailing up his thigh until he pushed you away and stood up from his spot on the ground.
“Stop. I made a vow, to myself and to God.”
You frowned. “Do you not like me?” And you tried to hide your smile as he immediately assured you that was not the case. You stood up and reached for him cautiously, seeing his internal struggle. “You’ve killed, betrayed your country, your home. Do you think breaking a simple vow will be any worse than all that, hm?”
“I never wanted to kill anyone.” He whispered, allowing you to run your hands up his chest and wrap around his shoulders.
“Then maybe you shouldn't have joined up with a group of heathens.” He was such a sheltered man, you wanted him to experience all he could. You wanted him to be with someone he knew and cared about, you weren’t going to let him be with some whore or stranger. He was looking down at you with confliction, eyes traveling from your own to your lips. You knew what he wanted, you just had to give him a little push.
Osferth let out a surprised hum when you pressed your lips against his without another word, catching him off guard so that he couldn’t reject your advances right away. But even as you kept kissing him, he never made a move to push you away nor did he intensify the kiss in any way. You tangled your fingers in his short hair, pulling hard enough that he gasped, allowing you to deepen the kiss. You smirked as he let out a breathy moan, you could already feel his hard on pressing against you. Your tongues touched briefly, but it seemed that shook him back into focus as he jolted away, his back turned to you. “You shouldn’t have done that, my Lady…” You heard him whisper shakily, you could see his hands trembling at his sides.
You said nothing as you walked to stand in front of him again, his innocent pleading eyes looking up at you, silently begging for you not to continue. But you did not listen, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs would not let you. “Please, Osferth…I can make you feel good.” You kissed his cheek cautiously, kissing all over his face until there was one spot left. He leaned in to kiss you himself this time, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you against him tightly. You could feel a wetness on his face and you pulled back to see that he was crying.
“God, I want you so bad, I do.” He sniffled. “It hurts.” He winced.
“Then let me make the pain go away.” You cooed, removing your clothes until you were bare to the elements of Wessex. You shuddered as the wind hardened your nipples and cooled the slick that was already gathering at your cunt. Osferth moaned at the sight of you, not looking away this time like he did at the river. “Touch me.” You commanded softly, gently bringing one of his hands to cup your supple breasts. He squeezed them experimentally, looking to see if it brought you any discomfort, but it did quite the opposite. “I need you, Osferth.” You kissed him again passionately, your limbs going shaky as you felt desire overcome you.
He wordlessly allowed you to strip him naked, saying a silent prayer in his mind as his stiff cock was finally freed of its confines. You brought him to the ground, where you had laid furs for the night, seeing him look up at you on his back made you drool.
“Please,” Osferth begged, his cock already throbbing and you hadn’t even done anything but whisper your enchanting words in his ears. “don’t make me break my vow…”
“Shh, it’s okay. Just relax for me.” You whispered, throwing your leg over his waist, straddling him. Your pussy was already slick with anticipation of his sweet corruption. You could only imagine how pretty his lewd moans would sound.
Osferth hissed as you took his cock in your hand, rubbing the tip in between in your folds before lining him up with your entrance. You both moaned loudly as you sunk down on him, he stretched you out more than you anticipated. “Gods, you’re bigger than you look.” You whispered breathily.
“Am I hurting you?” He panicked instantly, but you simply smiled and shook your head. Such a sweet gentleman. You were so warm and wet, your walls clenching around him due to the intrusion, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel so damn good; like heaven on earth. “Oh, my Lord God, have mercy on my soul…” He begged as he clutched his cross in his hand tightly as you grinded down on him. He looked up at you in awe as if you were an angel, he could practically see your halo as he suddenly came.
You giggled as he filled you up, watching as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his mouth opened wide as he let out a long, pained moan. “That was quick. Was it that good?” You smirked, loving the way his face flushed with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, my Lady.” He stuttered, but you silenced him with a kiss.
“Don’t be.”
Osferth’s eyes filled with tears, the light from the campfire making his piercing blue eyes shine as he stared at the cross in his hand. “What have I done, Lord?” He whimpered pitifully, and you almost felt sorry for him if it wasn’t for the fact that he was still rock hard inside your cunt.
“Ready to go again so soon?” You chuckled darkly, moving your hips back and forth, causing him to let out a whine.
“No, don’t, not again-”
“You’ve already broken your vow, sweet monk. What more harm could you do now?” He looked up at you with a remorseful expression, the weight of what he had done heavy on his chest. You slowly lifted yourself off, slamming back down on him to elicit a cry from his soft lips. “So sensitive. But I suppose since I got what I wanted, I can stop-”
“No!” Osferth interrupted, surprising himself and you. He looked entirely conflicted as he placed his shaking hands on your hips, keeping you in place and not allowing you to remove himself from you. “No…you’re right. I’ve broken my vow. I can’t change that now. I suppose...I can enjoy this?”
“Yes, sweet baby monk. Let yourself enjoy this. Indulge in the feeling of me.” You moaned, continuing to rock your hips, a gasp escaping your lips as your clit brushed up against his pelvis as the head of his cock started to rub up against that sensitive spot inside you that always made you see stars. “Gods, you’re perfect. I wish we had done this sooner.” Osferth moaned at your words, his cock twitching inside you and making butterflies swirl in his stomach. You raked your nails down his bare chest, hearing soft whimpers escaping his mouth as you rode him. “How does it feel?” You asked, struggling to keep in your high pitched moans.
“Good, my Lady.” He stuttered. “So good.” You moaned as Osferth started to buck up into you, losing himself in his own pleasure and making you feel amazing in return. “Does it always feel so heavenly?” He groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, the dull pain making a shock of euphoria reverberate through your entire body for a split second.
“No, not for women at least.”
“Is…is there anything I can do to make it feel good for you too?” He asked innocently, but his eyes expressed something else, a slight darkness to them, his pupils so blown out you could barely see his bright blue irises anymore.
You grinned as you took one of his hands off your hip, bringing it to your cunt. “Rub circles with your thumb right here.” You guided him to your clit, even what little pressure he put had your head reeling.
“Like this, my Lady?”
“A bit more pressure.” You cried out as he listened to your instructions diligently. “Yes, yes, gods, just like that.” Osferth smiled proudly, helping you ride him as he rubbed your clit attentively. You threw your head back as you were nearing your own peak, the man beneath you learning faster than anyone else you’ve ever been with. “Such a good boy.” You whined, your hands grasping and scratching at your tits.
You squeaked as Osferth suddenly flipped you over onto your back, knocking the breath from your lungs as he pounded into you with abandon. Like a switch finally flipped inside him, he was taking pleasure for himself, finding confidence just like he found the courage to fight and kill alongside everyone on Uhtred’s team. You hoped you had created a monster. The way he was fucking into you, if you didn’t know he had only been a virgin half an hour ago, you would have believed he had experience beyond your years. He still had the decency to continue caring for your sensitive nub, forcing your body into overdrive as you kept climbing and climbing to reach that peak. Now you were the one whining and whimpering, how the tables turned.
With his cock continuously hitting that special spot inside of you and your stimulated clit, accompanied by the sound of Osferth’s skin slapping against yours wetly along with his soft moans in your ear, you felt that intense ecstasy you had been craving wash over you like a tidal wave. You prayed to the gods that the Dane’s camp, however many miles away, would not be able to hear your loud strained moan as you came. “Gods, Osferth!” You cried out, your hands holding onto his shoulder with a vice grip that would surely leave bruises just like he must’ve done to your hips.
“Christ-!” Osferth groaned, gripping one of your breasts as he fucked a second load into you, his vision going blurry as his second orgasm was much more powerful than the first. It was too much and not enough, all he could do was ride it out until the feeling went away.
When it seemed he came back to your realm, you were looking up at him with a proud grin. He couldn’t help but grin back, the afterglow making him dazed and giddy. “You made me come, sweet Osferth. Not many people have achieved such a feat.”
“I don’t believe you, my Lady.” He smiled, pulling out of you with a hiss and laying down beside you. It was true, but even if it wasn’t, you still wanted to stroke his ego just to see the blush on his face. “Now I understand why some take a vow of celibacy.”
You giggled, turning to lay on your stomach, resting on your elbows. “Why?”
“Because I think I could worship you now, and the Scripture says that you shall not have any gods before Him.” He smirked boyishly, trailing his pointer finger across your jawline, stopping his path to rest the finger on your bottom lip.
You gently kissed the tip of his finger, his eyes watching you intently. “As much as it might be fun to be worshiped, I have no intention to steal you away from your god.”
“You already have, my Lady.”
Needless to say, your mission for Uhtred went well. You managed to signal the rest of the group when the Danes were off guard, slaughtering everyone you all could before they retreated. And your recent lover Osferth had just the way to celebrate the newest victory.
i am such a heathen, something me and Uhtred have in common i guess
#the last kingdom#osferth#osferth the last kingdom#osferth tlk#osferth imagine#osferth x reader#osferth x f!reader#osferth x fem!reader#osferth smut#baby monk#ewan mitchell
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Family
Helion x reader, Rhysand x daughter reader
You never knew your parents and yourself. One day you decide to leave your home and try to find something about yourself and your family. You come to the Day court, where you meet their cunning High lord, who also happens to be your mate. But your mate isn't the only person you found..
warnings: mentions of nudity
words: 2764
It was a nice summer day. A wind gently caressed your cheeks, as you were looking at your friends, who were enjoying the day with their families. Fathers, mothers.. siblings. That was a luxury you have never known. You never knew your father or mother. The closest thing you had to parents were Christian and Lucille, who found you one day and raised as their own. You actually thought they were your parents, until they came clean when you reached your eighteen birthday. They knew you deserve the truth. Since then, you were jealous and happy at the same time for your friends, who had families on their own. You were watching them from a smaller distance, as they were laughing together wishing you could have something like that too. Not that you were not grateful for Christian and Lucille, you loved them but.. You wanted to find out who your parents were. Whose violet eyes were looking at you in the mirror? Did you have the same black hair as your mom? Was your smile similar to the smile of your father? Those were questions you earned an answer for.
You grew up in the mountains in Night court. Your village was quite small, nothing extraordinary here. It was not far from the borders the Night court shared with the Day court. You could walk there maybe after two or three hours. That means that sometimes you meet people traveling between these two courts. People who were more than willing to share stories. That was how you found out about Amarantha being dead. You knew her, of course you did. Everyone in Prythian did. She trapped all High lords under the mountain, took their powers.. They were helpless until one day a human girl named Feyre freed them. You were fascinated by her story. She was now your High lady, finally being happy with Rhysand, your High lord and you found that really nice. That they found each other after all that. You heard all stories about them and about other High lords and interesting people from travelers, merchants.. You were always listening to them very carefully, until one sunny day, when you decided to stop being the listener and become the traveler, narrator, yourself. It was an opportunity to get to know new places, people.. and maybe find out something about your parents.
“Are you sure you want to go? I mean..it can be really dangerous.” You smiled at your friends. “I am sure. I love you guys, I love this place but.. I just want to try and find out something about my parents, about me. And I think that's the thing I cannot accomplish here.” She sighed and nodded as a sign that she understands you. “Well.. I will not stop you, if that is really what you want. Just.. be careful and don't forget us.” You hugged her tight, trying to find back tears. “How could I ever forget you? You are my best friend, sister, even though we don't have the same parents. I will never forget you, don't worry. And also.. this isn't definitely the last time you see me. I will come back.”
It has been almost two months since you left. After almost a month of traveling, you came to the town which was surrounding the palace of Helion, the Day court´s High lord. Probably the sexiest male alive. You had only seen him once, from afar when he was walking and talking with some of his friends near the shop you worked. You found a job in a smaller café, simply because you needed money and you also quite quickly fell in love with the city and wanted to spend some time here. You weren't sure how long you were going to stay.. A few months? Year? But it didn't really matter. Your job did not only provide you with the money , no. It also helped you meet a few nice people you befriend and could spend time after work. It was nice, the days were not the same as in your old village. Every day brought something new, new skills you learned, new friends.. But the one day that stood out above all the days.. was the one when you met your mate.
It was almost noon when the bell rang and he walked into the café, where you were currently working. Helion stood in the doorway and was looking around the place as if he was searching for something, or rather someone. And then, suddenly, he looked at you, his already big smile grew even bigger. At that same moment, you felt something in your chest, in your heart. Mating bond. It snapped immediately, taking the air from your lungs. You blinked a few times, not daring to move or look away from his gaze as he walked closer to you. “Hello my little sunshine.”
From that moment, you didn't spend a day without a stolen moment with Helion. You found out that he already knew about the mating bond. It snapped for him a few minutes before he came in, as he was casually walking around the café. He saw you and needed only a few minutes before you he plucked up the courage to go talk to you. You decided to take things slowly. He was coming to the café, where you chatted when you were working. After a week he invited you to a date, to a beautiful restaurant, theater, then he took you on the picnic.. And that's basically how you ended up waking up in his large bed, with nothing but sheets on your naked body.
You two were seeing each other for almost three months. It was already winter, but that did not bother you. Helion was hugging you, his big and warm body was better than any blanket in the whole world. You were enjoying this quiet morning in his embrace, when you felt he was already waking up. His breathing changed and grip on you strengthened, as if he also wasn't ready to wake up and leave your bed. You giggled at him, whereupon he grunted. “Is there something funny, sunshine?” You sighed happily. “Just one certain High lord who is behaving like a little child who doesn't want to share his toy with anyone else.” He chuckled, turned you around, so you were now lying on your back on the comfortable mattress and he was towering over you in all his glory. You bit your lips at this sight. “But I don't want to share you with anyone else.” He started placing soft kisses on your neck, which was full of hickeys from the previous night. “I don't think that's possible. My shift is starting in an hour and you also have a lot of work.” You argued, trying to keep your thoughts clear, even though the idea of spending the whole day with your mate in bed was more than tempting. “That's why I want you to quit. You know I can take care of you, I want to take care of everything you need or want” This time it was you who chuckled at his idea. “And what would I do? Spend all my time in your bed, waiting for you to return? It would be boring.” You caressed his beautiful face. Admiring his beauty, before he spoke again. “You could always come with me to the meetings, sit on my lap and warm me.” He winked at you, as you punched him slightly in his biceps. After that his face grew more serious. “I love you Y/N. More than my court, more than the sun, more than everything else.. Just say you want this and I promise I will give you everything in the world. I will make you my High lady. My equal. Just one word is enough.”
It wasn't that hard a decision. You loved Helion with your whole being. You couldn't imagine a day without him. So you finally agreed. You gave him your answer that day, in the evening, when you served him dinner made by you. It was simple, private and even though Helion was known for parties, he really appreciated this. Mainly because after the meal he could immediately take to to the bedroom and fuck you all night without any disturbance. The only thing that was left to declare you his High lady. You urged him to wait a little. When you officially accepted the bond you also moved to his palace the next day and you simply wanted to get used to the new surroundings and to the bond, which was now stronger than before. He of course agreed to your wishes. But you still were slowly making plans for the celebration, because you decided to make this event publicly. Helion thought that it was only fair for his, yours, people to have an opportunity to witness this moment, when the first High lady of the Day court was crowned. And believed him, wanting to also make people happy, to make a good first impression and that was probably not possible if you were hiding in the shadows on that important day. You also decided to invite your and some of Helion's friends, which also included some other High lords and their families. You personally invited Thesan - High lord of the Dawn court, High lord of the Winter court and his wife, Tarquin, who was Hugh lord of the Summer court and lastly.. High lord, High lady of the Night court and their Inner circle.
Before every meeting with other High lords you were incredibly nervous and Helion was trying to calm you down as he could and he was successful, but this time.. It was different and you weren't sure why you felt this way. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, your hands were sweating.. Maybe because you were supposed to meet the only other High lady that existed? Or maybe you were just nervous because you have heard a lot of stories about all of them? Rhysand was the most powerful High lord, his mate had powers of all seven High lords and her sisters were made by the Cauldron.. Not mentioning Cassian and Azriel, who were alive for more than five hundred years and killed more people than you have met in your lifetime. “Don't worry Y/N. They are really nice and don't bite more than me and you are already used to that.” Helion winked at you and you rolled your eyes at him. This was something about him that you absolutely loved and at the same time found annoying. He was such a flirt. “I know and I believe you. Honestly.. I am not sure why I am so nervous.” You as and at the same time tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Before your mate could respond to you, you heard the sound of the door opening. You looked behind you and to your surprise you met the same eyes you had and they stared back at you in shock.
There was silence as the others entered the room as well. They were looking at you with shocked expressions and you returned it, mainly to the man that had the same eyes as you. And after a few moments you noticed that the eyes were not the only thing you shared. You also had the same hair, similar features. In the end it was Helion who broke the silence. “I.. I never realized that.” It wasn't surprising he was not very receptive to these things. “That's.. How?” High lady asked, turning to face her mate, who also finally recovered from the shock. “I have no idea, Feyre darling.” He took a few steps towards you. You looked at Helion, not sure what to do. What to say. Was it even possible? Was this really your father or was it some cruel joke made by the Cauldron? How did it happen? “It's her.” You heard a sweet voice from the group. A girl, a woman, in a pink dress came closer. You shared a confused look with your mate. “The girl from my visions. Rhys's daughter.”
To this moment, the only person who almost made you faint was Helion but when that woman said those words.. You had to grab your mate's strong arms, because otherwise you would be laying on the ground. This did not go unnoticed by your father and your mate, who grabbed you by your waist, holding you firmly. It was not only supporting in standing, it was calming you at the same time. Your father looked with worry. “Are you okay?” He asked you, you nodded in response. “I am, it's just.. a shock.” He smiled at you. “That's understandable. It's a shock for both of us. Well.. for all of us. He turned to his mate and Inner circle, as if he was having a quick conversation with them. After that, they came closer, introducing themselves with bright smiles. You have learned that the lady who was obviously a seer was Elaine, sister of your father's mate. It was Feyre who introduced herself to you last. It was a little bit weird for you, since she was a little bit younger than you and practically your step-mother, but she seemed nice. “By the way, what are you doing here? And how did you find my daughter, Helion?” You almost forgot they didn't know. Inviting High lords to your celebration was also a moment when Helion introduced you to them as his mate for the first time. He looked down at you and you gave him a simple nod. “Well.. she is my mate. And also my future High lady. We wanted to invite you to the celebration personally.”
Once again, they were shocked, especially your newly found father, who was looking between you and Helion. You wanted to say something. Something that could make this situation a little bit less weird, but couldn't find the right words. In the end, silence was broken by Cassian's and Morrigan's augh. “Well, I did not see that coming.” Your aunt said with amusement in her voice. You smiled nervously, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the thin air. “Congratulations, it's amazing.” Feyre told you kindly and shook Rhysand's hand, so he would wake up from his trance. “Yeah.. congratulations.”He looked from you to Helion. “You better make her happy.” His words warmed up your heart. It was nice of him to look after you only after knowing you for maybe ten minutes. Maybe you were an adult, but that didn't mean you couldn't create a loving bond with him. After the first shock, you finally felt happiness. You had a parent! A father! And at that moment you realized something. With a hope in your eyes you turned to Elaine. “Do you also know who my mother is?”
The smile on her face and the faces of the others froze. Well, except for you and Helion, since you didn't know anything. Elaine swallowed hard, making eye contact with both your father and Feyre, again having some type of silent conversation. After a while, your father sighed. “Your mother.. Well.. Things get a little bit complicated here.” He breathed out. “Maybe you already heard of her. It is.. Amarantha.” It had to be incredibly hard for him to say that. After he said that, he looked away, hurt from memories that came back only after saying her name out loud.
Of course you were in shock after finding out who your parents were. Being the daughter of the most powerful High lord and also a person who imprisoned not only him, but also your mate and a lot of other people.. Being the daughter of the person who killed and who was the main villain of many people's nightmares wasn't the best thing that could happen to you. But you were lucky to have your mate and also your father on your site. After finding out, you were really sad, angry, ashamed and also worried about what other people would think. What would Helion think? But luckily, he didn't care at all. He supported you, when you were recovering from the news and trying to accept them. He supported you when you tried and later successfully created a bond with your father, but also Feyre and their Inner circle. You were very lucky to have him, to have all of them. You finally had your own happy family.
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar imagine#acotar series#a court of thorns and roses#rhysand x reader#rhysand imagine#rhys x reader#rhysand fanfic#rhysand's daughter#morrigan#cassian#feyre x rhysand#feyre archeron#high lady feyre#helion x you#helion x reader#helion acotar#amarantha#inner circle#night court#day court
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Why change matters and how Amphibia did it better than The Owl House.
"Watching and Dreaming" made me cry a lot during its premiere. I was amazed and, I'd say, dazed by it. Then I forgot about it for a while. Now I finished re-watching Amphibia for the first time since TOH ended. My hype died down, and I have some thoughts. A lot, actually.
Amphibia's ending was incredibly painful and made me sob like a baby for two whole weeks the first time I watched it. That's because it was not only beautiful and heartbreaking, but truly GOOD. Brilliant, actually. I absolutely agree with a statement that any other ending would literally be a contradiction to the whole main plot, especially Anne's arc. The girls had to learn to let go in order to grow as individuals - the thing they had the biggest problem with. Saying goodbye was the only logical option, plot-wise. It still hurt like hell, though. Separating the multidimensional, against-all-odds relationships (especially my beloved spranne. Ouch, ouch, ouch). The Owl House does no such thing - everybody stays together. They live happily ever after.
Paradoxically, I think that it's the main reason why I'd choose "The Hardest Thing" over "Watching and Dreaming" every single time. I know we shouldn't really compare them in EVERY aspect, since TOH had way more things to deal with in the final episode, but the fact that Luz got to not only stay, but to freely travel between worlds as she pleases really took the whole "growing up and finding your true self no matter what the other people do/say about you" thing out the door. Luz from season one, episode one, and Luz from the finale are not really that different. Well, she certainly became more traumatised and depressed than before, but in terms of personal growth? Nope. Luz - from the very beginning - was cheerful, open, caring and very selfless, willing to literally help every stranger she met no matter how it would affect her. She had little to no boundaries, but, well, you can't argue that she was A GOOD, SELFLESS PERSON. Now, we could say that her arc here would be learning that sometimes you should put yourself before others, that you can't save everyone, that you can't trust every person you meet. And she learns it! She fucking does! She helps Philip not knowing who he will become, and then suffers from the consequences, because she helped the wrong person. And then it's all erased, when she saves Collector's life and meets Papa Titan (or whatever we call them).
I have so much to say about this. All of TOH's "villains" (Amity, Lilith, Hunter, The Collector) that were given a redemption arc literally get turned into lifeless, edgy trauma dumpsters, that suddenly loose all of their previous character, quirks and sass (well, maybe except for Lilith, she just started to express them differently, I think, but still, it was WAY too big of a change). I won't dwell on it (since many, many fans called it out already - as they should), and will focus on something different. The only one marked as irredeemable is Belos. Good. Okay. He's irredeemable, because he's a white, christian puritan who won't listen to anyone but himself. Also a genocidal maniac. That's the lesson for Luz here. "You can't save everyone. Some people are just straight up evil". And it's very, very true. But.
From all of the "villains" I mentioned before, Belos is the one that had the most reasons to, let's say, take a dark turn. Those reasons are what makes him irredeemable - he's just too convinced he's right, because, in his mind, he has evidence to prove it. But how do we learn about this? Maybe by seeing his part of the story? Maybe by learning about his brother and Evelyn, about their relationship? It couldn't be straight up awful, since Philip literally brought his brother back to life over and over again, he wanted his brother, or at least the picture of Caleb that satisfied him the most. There was more to it than only "you betrayed me and now I will hate you forever". Do we get to see any of that? No. Instead we get an all-knowing, all-doing being that literally choose Luz as "the one" for being kind and trusting, that convinces her that Belos is, indeed, a lost cause. Do you see where I'm going with this?
Luz, the person that on the literal episode two was told that there is no such thing as a "chosen one" and that she can't always hop into action to save everybody, because, it's, well, not always possible, DOES EXACTLY THAT in the finale by taking a bullet for The Collector, the, you know, very freshly redeemed and suddenly cute and funky villain, whom Luz trusts immediately. AND SHE IS REWARDED FOR IT BY BEING MADE THE CHOSEN ONE. BY A GOD-LIKE BEING THAT CLAIMS TO BE ALL-KNOWING AND CAN DECIDE WHO IS RIGHT AND WHO IS WRONG, BECAUSE OF PERSONAL (King) REASONS. Just like, you know... Belos? The irredeemable villain? And then Luz lets go of the moral dilemmas that's been keeping her up at night for the past months, makes up her mind, defeats the bad guy, learns nothing, and gets to stay in the Boiling Isles and on Earth. With her beautifully redeemed girlfriend and friends whom she kept secrets from and lied to out of fear of being ostracised (you see the pattern here, right?) for, again, months.
I love Amphibia. I love The Owl House. But Amphibia handles it's "villains", generally wronged characters and the whole change/no change thing way better. Well, maybe besides the Core - they got a bit wasted in my opinion. But still. Sasha. Grime. Marcy. Andrias. Anne herself. They learn and change. And more importantly, they face consequences and come to understand and accept them. There's no "chosen one" here. Anne gets the proposition because she's the first one to use the music box for good in literal millenia. A fact, plain and simple (not an opinion based on personal motivations), that makes sense plot-wise, and adds so, so much to Anne's arc. Because Anne from season one, episode one wouldn't care. The one from the finale cares very damn much. And that's the biggest difference.
Saying goodbye makes the message way stronger. The more I think about it, however, the more I'm starting to be afraid that there's no The Message in The Owl House to begin with. Luz learns very little, yet ends up with everything she ever wanted. There's no power behind it. The "find the right people and choose to trust them, not everyone will be your friend" and "some things are out of your control, some people are just bad" aspect is even weaker, as proven by basically the whole season 3. I will end it by my favorite quote from Amphibia, that I think about on daily basis. Have a good day, y'all.
"Change can be difficult, but it's how we grow. It can be the hardest thing to realize you can't hold on to something forever. Sometimes, you have to let it go; but, of the things you let go, you'd be surprised what makes its way back to you."
#the owl house#amphibia#watching and dreaming#the hardest thing#luz noceda#philip wittebane#anne boonchuy#sprig plantar#toh critical#kinda?#i love this show too much to fully criticize it but i had to write this#it was cathartic
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PLEASE TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOYR HAZBIN AU
So Vox is an angel, does that change anything about him on an emotional level ? (Like when he sees religious imagery, does it make him feel anything ‘inexplicably’?) Does his one sided rivalry with Alastor stay the same ? What’s the relationship like between the three Vs? Whatre his thoughts on Velvette’s church?
Angel’s in charge of the family mafia huh? So he must be pretty powerful… Does Val still have power over him or are they on more equal footing ?
So Vox is an angel, does that change anything about him on an emotional level ? (Like when he sees religious imagery, does it make him feel anything ‘inexplicably’?)
- Any mentions of religious imagery, especially christianity, make him a bit.. twitchy, but never the less, it doesn't bother him as much.
Vox can often come off as one; "oblivious" to the fact that he's an angel It essentially became a rule in hell to not mention that fact around him. Two; "passive," but everyone associated with him knows it's a bunch of horseshit and loves to mess with people once they realize it.
Does his one sided rivalry with Alastor stay the same?
- There's still a rivalry, albiet for different reasons.
Alastor: "People always say that I strike fear in everyone's soul, *cue laugh track* Hahaha! If only I knew what it felt like, correction if only I knew what anything felt like anymore! *cue laugh track*"
One of Hell's punishments that was inflicted on Al was the inability to feel anything because he was enjoying his time a serial killer a little too much. Because of this, he becomes severely bored years to come since what's the point in causing a lot of chaos when you can't feel anything from it? Now, don't get me wrong, he's still a heavily feared overlord, but now he's just so bored with a lot of things in Hell.
But then Vox came along. He essentially puts dread in everyone's stomachs because it's very likely he's a one-way ticket to getting yourself permanently killed without a cleanse happening. Alastor actually gets intrigued by him and thus starts their rivalry, it focus less on. "Radio vs TV" and more on, "He's very dangerous and could end me for good, he's the only one the peaked my interest and perhaps maybe give me the ability to feel fear."
Sure, there are exorcists, but all of them evenually leave anyway, too squirmy and skitterish for Alastor's taste.
But Vox just strides in everywhere like he owns the place, without even a little smidge of fright and treats everything like a game.
What’s the relationship like between the three Vs? Whatre his thoughts on Velvette’s church?
- Vox & Valentino: Both have been married for fifty years and it's still counting, as seen in the show it's implied that Vox has to calm down Val a lot of the time when he has a temper, this AU switches that. SHAU!Val isn't dumb enough to let Vox's temper get the better of him, because how knows what would happen if there's a pissed off angelic overlord. (Thank the lord it doesn't happen often.)
OG!Vox butters up OG!Val
SHAU!Val does it instead
OG!Val intentionally withheld information about Alastor coming back so he could push OG!Vox's buttons
SHAU!Val doesn't even entertain the idea
Yeah, Val can be a bit trigger happy, but he's not outright suicidal.
Valentino & Velvette: Both of them hold each other in high regard but aren't as close with one other since Val doesn't focus much on social media. Valentino is a very direct guy. The only Voxtagram posts you're getting from him are photos of sinners with holy bullets in their skulls as a warning to whoever crosses him. Velvette and her little cult of followers take a step further to spread the message, too. Essentially, she's on top when it comes to information around social media.
Velvette & Vox: Both being tech savvy, they get along quite well. While Vox controls all of the internet and anything tech in hell, he's more focused on the business side of things and selling products, when a new product sells, Velvette makes it so the message spreads further.
Angel’s in charge of the family mafia huh? So he must be pretty powerful… Does Val still have power over him or are they on more equal footing ?
Since the church is used a ploy to lure more sinners into their power, Vox finds a lot of assumentment in it and often times indulges in entering the church to heighten her claims and further reel sinners in.
If anyone wants more info, please send an ask! :)
- Sadly, Angel is still under a contract with Val, fortunately though they more-or-less have respect for each other. Angel finds it hilariously ironic that he's right-hand man to a moth when he's the spider here.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel au#AU: Salvation Hotel#vox#voxval#valentino#alastor#velvette#angel dust#hazbin hotel vox#staticmoth
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Thinking out loud about another random Lestappen Fanfic based off the idea of Max being sent to encourage Charles to Red Bull but maybe doing a little too good a job of luring him ….
NSFW ramble under the cut….
…. Max’s 2023 season is spent taking victories and dick. Charles’ dick to be precise. Never one to shy away from a challenge Max was eager enough when Christian told him to try and work his magic and lure Charles away from Ferrari. Christian may not have gone as far as to verbally state what he meant by ‘lure’ but the condoms and lube Max suddenly found appearing in his drivers room on a regular basis gave him enough of a clue.
He was three races into the new season when he ended the weekend down on his knees, mouth wrapped eagerly around the Monegasque’s dick. It took five races before Charles had him down on all fours and moaning incoherently as he was fucked from behind.
Free use.
That was how Max had sold it to Charles. The Monegasque could do whatever he wanted to him whenever he wanted. It was meant to be a taster of what life at Red Bull could be like. Charles could have him any which way as long as he signed on the dotted line.
And Charles certainly took advantage of the offer. More than Max was actually anticipating. As he racked up the victories he also racked up the number of loads he took from Charles. By the time Las Vegas rolled around Max was conditioned to receiving Charles’ cock before he could consider the weekend fully complete. It was like some sort of pavlovian condition. He jumped in the car concentrated and determined but took the chequered flag practically salivating and vibrating at the thought of what Charles was going to do to him.
It was working too. Negotiations between Red Bull and Charles were going well, or at least that was what Max could gather from the information he had. He wasn’t in all the meetings of course, he left the legal stuff to Red Bull to sort out. Besides he felt like he was already doing enough to encourage things along. There were hints though, Charles sometimes had him cock warm him during phone negotiations and Max heard enough to feel a nice pleasant buzz under his skin.
That was until Christian broke the news to him. Charles had withdrawn from contract negotiations altogether, had decided to stay with Ferrari after all. To say it hurt was an understatement, Max had given everything. Both physically and emotionally because there was only so much time he could have realistically spent in Charles’ presence before falling in love with him. It was so stupid, he was too busy getting kissed and touched and fucked that he’d let his guard down. But Charles always said such nice things to him, told him how pretty he looked all flush and writhing around on the bed. Told him how much he liked spending time together. Started staying the whole night and curling up in bed to sleep together. It had been perfect, everything had felt right.
Max stumbled to Charles’ door in a daze. A whole speech prepared about how hurt he was but Charles had kissed him and run his fingers through his hair and Max had melted in an instant. It was only laying in bed afterwards when Max really understand what was going on.
Everything had felt right for Charles too. “Perfect” was what Charles had said before explaining that the closer the two of them had gotten the more he realised he liked things how they were. Fighting on track but no inner team political battles. Having the thrill of the chase without any underlying tensions around team orders. To risk all that wasn’t worth it. Charles could stay at Ferrari and Max could stay at Redbull. Ferrari's il Predestinato v Red Bull’s newest Golden Boy. Just how it was always meant to be.
Charles didn’t decide not to go to Red Bull to avoid Max. Charles decided not to go to Red Bull because he had fallen madly in love with Max. And he wouldn’t risk their new found relationship for all the world. Besides, Charles believed in destiny, and the more he thought about things the more he realised that his destiny was to fall in love with Max and to become a world champion with Ferrari. One down, one to go.
#lestappen#lestappen fanfic#Maybe I will write the full version but for now here is a hastily written ramble#charles leclerc fanfic#max verstappen fanfic
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𝐂𝐃𝐑. 𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
Note: This is a reupload, my old account being fucky so here we are again!
— Phillip is from Nashville, Tennessee (Bellevue Neighborhood). I do think he moved around a bit because I can see him coming from a family where military service was very common for the men of the family so he also lived in Texas, Kentucky, Louisiana, North Carolina and Georgia. He seems like the kid that just moved around a lot.
— His birthday is June 1st, 1985
— He gives me Gemini vibes
— His personality type is ESTP-A
— He's a bisexual.
— Grew up higher middle class
— He's either Russell Adler's son or related to him, they look pretty similar so like yeah they are probably family. If so related on his paternal side of the family
— Phillip was not an only child and had two other siblings, one older and one younger then him. All boys too who have served as well
— He wasn't a momma's boy or dad's boy, he was in fact Grandma's boy. He was really close with his grandmother and it's where he learned how to cook. He spent a lot of time with his grandparents and he was their favorite.
— In comparison to everyone else I think Graves is about 5'9 or maybe 5'10, him and Soap look to be similar height when we see them together so I lean more 5'10
— Graves definitely has a couple of tattoos, I'm not totally sure what yet but at least placement I feel like his upper arms. He's a business man so he knows having to maintain professionalism with work
— He doesn't seem like he played football growing but actually baseball and also on the swim team as well
— Graves has ridden horses before, often when he was staying at his grandparents property when he was younger but after enlisting he hasn't been back in the saddle but he knows how to ride
— He does in fact own several cowboy hats and probably had one that is themed to Shadow Company too
— Graves enlisted in the Marines when he was seventeen and I think in the process went to school and was a business major
— He's a truck guy but in a practical sense. He's got two of them, he's got his pretty one and then the one that's actually used for what a truck is used for. The pretty one is the work truck which is a 2017 black chevy Silverado. His other truck is well kept 1979 Chevy Silverado.
— He's a car guy, I think he loved working on them and that's his main hobby. He loves doing the restoration process and takes great pride in what he does. His house has a large garage solely so he can be doing that.
— He definitely is into motorcycles but I can see him being more into the sports ones. I think he grew up having a dirt bike at some point and that love for them as also stayed through out his life. He's got a black YAMAHA YZF R6 that he usually drives during the late spring, summer and into late fall.
— He's animal guy™. I feel like he if he was around more often then not he'd have plenty of them. He's the type to bring home strays or show up back with a new puppy in tow. He's got a soft spot for them and loves them. He'd probably own a thoroughbred gelding named Ace at some point in his life too.
— Graves isn't exactly a lightweight when it comes to drinking but he's also not kicking back shots getting ten down and just barely feeling a buzz. He drinks, not frequently but can handle his liquor decently well. He'd a whiskey and bourbon guy.
— Graves and Oz are close, it's why he trusted Oz to take over. I feel like Oz is probably the closest Graves has gotten to having a best friend. He's made friends but he never had a best friend but he finds that in Oz. They are practically brothers.
— He's not exactly superstitious but I do feel like he holds someone the Appalachian superstitious do to his grandmother and grandfather on both sides holding them but he's mostly a skeptic on stuff.
— He's agnostic from a family of Christians, his family aren't God fearing people and taught their boys to respect others and who they are. He stopped stepping into a church when he was about fourteen.
— There's never an explanation to the scar on his cheek and the clip in his ear but I think it was extremely close call when he was Marine Raider with a sniper. If he had just been moved over a little bit more or didn't move, he wouldn't have been there. He thinks a lot about it when he looks at it. It's a reminder of where he had been and how far he's come.
— Graves still wears his old dog tags plus the ones that get issued to Shadow Company soldiers. He takes pride in the ones from the Marines and holds them close to his heart. He always wears them or has them on his person when he's on missions. He was a marine and he's always going to be a marine.
— He's an occasionally smoker, I don't think it's frequent but he does occasionally smoke especially if he gets insanely stressed out but he probably curbs a lot of it with vaping. He's perfectly is Marlboro Blacks or American Spirits Black.
— While he hasn't lived really the country life before, I do think he does own a home out in Tennessee and a property in Wyoming that's out there in the country. He may not have been raised in it, Graves falls into the hard working lifestyle that comes from the country and one day hoped to retire to it with a family of his own too.
— Graves has had relationships here and there over the years, plenty of flings and hookups but nothing that's probably lasted then about year and half. I think he's a loyal guy, he wants something genuine and connection. I don't think he's a cheater, once he settles on someone he's a ride or die kind of guy.
#phillip graves#philip graves#graves cod#graves m#graves mw2#graves mw3#shadow company#phillip graves x reader
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