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#i love how psychotic they made her
pinkniz · 2 years
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My beautiful candy wife
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ectoplasmer · 2 months
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in the middle of reading the new wind excerpt and god. oh my god. someone sedate me
#AGHHHHHH frostpaw. my baby :(#she spent a wholeeee book building up her courage to approach and accept what actually happened to her and her mother and her clan#she spent a whole book recovering and coming to terms with and understanding what she had to do#she spent a whole book preparing herself to save her clan and prove herself and it just Blows Up In Her Face within one gathering. crying#and the way splashtail just undermines her right in front of her clan?? telling them she must be psychotic or having a breakdown of somesor#that she must be confused and lost and hurt over her mother’s death and how they can’t trust what she says because of that#babying her in front of everyone right to her face. fucked up man#i mean she is Baby but i believe she is actually full grown by this point and is at the age where she would usually be made full medicineca#it’s just. god. everyone not trusting her. everyone throwing accusations at her. everyone not even giving her the time of day#so messed up!!! i’m going to go cry about it now bye#YES i’m getting emotional over a series meant for 6th graders leave me alone!! /hj#delete later#but like man. everyone in her clan rejected her. even her own family?? her siblings???? MOTHWING????#i know they can’t really do anything and riverclan wants stability but. man she’s just a baby. she’s still an apprentice cut her some slack#at least frostpaw will be with shadowsight#they can bond over their shared trauma of being led on by someone and getting almost killed by said someone#….weird how that happened twice within two arcs#inherently doomed medicine cats my beloveds. you are everything to me and you deserve so much better god damnit#listen i loved what the erins did with bristlefrost last arc but they cannot do that to me again#good on them for being brave and killing off a protag but no!!! not with these ones this time!!!!!#anyway
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ATTENTION: BRAINDEAD POST INCOMING
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i'm gonna marry him i swear to god. I promise. no kidding
#his 80s cary elwes-esque slay w the moustache WHYYYYYYYYYY i am in agony.#i think there was just something about 2021. prophetic dreams were abound and we all fell in love w someone who greatly impacted us forever#i still believe there's smth special about him and i can't let him go 😐 the nature of the dream and everything and the fact that i knew IT#i sowwy for being insane but i do believe he's my special little guy. him havin a gf literally changes nothing. whoops! 🤷‍♀️#god i have a problem i think i need to be on anti-psychotics but idc. i'm just remembering how i was sayin i was happy abt him reading my#comment and saying good night to me and i called him 'my beloved streamer' and people were callin me parasocial for that and yet#a bitch who's been his fan for over half a decade who ends up dating him ISN'T parasocial? the hypocrisy of everyone being kind to her#while getting angry at other for being attracted to him and genuinely caring for him just like i'n sure she did. i hate alllllllll of you#i never felt like life made sense more than when i was obsessed w him... sigh#ironically i think want someone to tell me that i'm being crazy just so i can tell them to fuck off. it's not like i don't know or that i#enjoy being like this but i feel like a have no other choice? it's odd but it feels like my purpose. this is my rock to roll up the hill#my track record for this sorta thing isn't good but i'm trying to be better. just once i wanna be loved by someone i love heh... 😔#he feels like the final one fr. the last in a line of total failures#god it's a miracle anyone puts up w me ngl LOL there's smth deeply wrong w me i don't think is fixable#not to quote astrology like it's gospel but the stars decided i was supposed to fall for someone in the public eye so. it only makes sense#that this keeps happening to me i guess. i'm just fuckin retarded no need to be concerned#anyways SCHIZOPOSTING OVER! back to whatever the fuck else i can use as a diversion so no one reads this (even tho no one gaf)
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randomly cries because im reading ppl share their stories on that ‘’i cant help but love the way men love’’ cuz it reminded me how my mom when she was starting to get worse but not dependent yet, whenever she went to the gas station and i was with her that day/weekend she’d always come back with one of the spicy pickled sausages and peach snapple tea because i got them a few times before and so she naturally always got me those bcuz she concluded i liked those things
she was always so happy bringing them to me. she’d call the spicy pickled sausage a “stinky hotdog” but so perky. just. “i got you your stinky hotdog!”
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suncoved · 2 months
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RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON
pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?
prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”
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you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.
kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.
but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.
you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.
sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.
but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.
you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.
and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.
you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.
beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.
"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.
you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.
you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.
"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."
your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.
he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.
you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.
you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"
your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.
"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.
you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.
you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.
honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.
though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.
he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.
it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.
there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.
yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.
"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.
he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"
you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.
"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.
"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.
you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.
you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.
he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.
you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.
your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.
rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.
he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.
"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.
"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.
"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.
it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.
"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.
a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.
rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.
you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.
you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.
"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.
"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.
"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.
"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.
"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.
rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.
“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"
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ridingthatd · 3 months
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◕◔ RYOMEN TWINS I
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◔◕ itadorixfem!reader, sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, twins breeding you, possessive, kinky asf part 1
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the ryomen twins were known around the whole kingdom- more like they were feared by the whole kingdom, they hold a power no one could compare to, no one as much as dares to make eye contact with them- fearing for their life, they could destroy an entire nation just by lifting a finger- and nobody want to experience the agony of disobeying or displeasing them in anyway.
even though the twins look identically alike- they're the complete opposite of each other, after working for such a long time for them- the longest anyone worked under them without "suddenly" dying or got brutally killed. you learned to tell the difference between them.
sukuna ryomen. such a heartless man, who you can barely get a reaction out of- at first you always thought how can someone be so psychotic, how can someone hold so much evil in them, but you learned to accept it by time, you learned to live with seeing him take a bath- soaking in a solution of cursed energy formed from crushing and straining venemous creatures.
sukuna ryomen. was rough with the way he treated you, rough in a way he wouldn't care to ask about your opinion or care to open his mouth and tell you what he pleased- he would simply harshly pick you up by his lower four arms, make you sit uncomfortably with him in the disgusting of a bath- watching your every move as you gently scrub on his rough skin, and what always seem to leave you fascinated was the vibration that always leaves from his chest everytime you scrub him- purring like a huge beast. resting his huge face on the swollen of your breast as he breaths you in.
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itadori yuji. he was the complete opposite of his brother, he held such a nice energy around him, he was never harsh nor aggressive in anyway towards you, he had such a gentle soul- that's at least how you felt, he would treat you like a delicate flower with so much gentility, you loved having silly little conversations with him, you loved the small walks he would walk with you- even as much as help you with laundry that he knew nothing about.
itadori yuji. he would always yell at his brother as soon as he takes a look at the finger marks he left behind from picking you up here and then, like a ragdoll- you could be doing dishes, sukuna make his way toward hold you 7 feets up the ground sniff you then place you down with a thud. itadori seems to hate it as he frowns at the marks rubbing them gently, he even goes as far as placing a kiss on them letting his lips linger there while his pink warm tongue peak out licking wetly- he makes an unbearable eye contact with you.
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your heart pounds in your chest, as you hear yelling coming from itadoris office- you never ever heard itadori yelling the way he's yelling right now and it made you feel so uneasy, it made you wanna run and hide far away. you flinch once you hear the door open and loud footsteps echos in the hallway- the hallway you were in, mopping the floor.
from the shadow that's coming your way- you can tell it was sukuna with his two extra arms that his brother didn't have- or as they say he didn't wanna show. you tightly shut your eyes, holding the wooden mop praying to goddess that he would just to go his room.
but even the goddess couldn't save you from sukunas shadow that now tour over you- you can feel his warm breath on your neck as he leans in, sniffing you as always- but this time he didn't hold you nor pick you up.
you flinch again as you hear itadoris office door slam open and fast heavy foot steps comes directly your way. it was itadori- you couldn't recognize him, he look furious like a beast who was set out of the cage for the first time. glaring at sukuna.
" I fucking told you to stay away from her." he growls out, fuming at the mouth, sukuna rolls his eyes as he steps away from you and continue his way toward his bedroom yelling out a-
"I didn't touch her brother, have it however you want" that makes itadoris eyes snap to you- grabbing your arms harshly for the first time- scanning you for any marks that his brother could have left behind.
it looks like he wasn't satisfied as he picks you, holding you to tightly- to close to your liking you can feel his hard chest pressed harshly against your soft boobs- hard nipples, as he makes his way toward his bedroom closing the door loudly behind him.
he throws you on his bed, making you gasp- as you bounce, not letting you have enough time to process what's happening as he continues his scan- roughly holding your hips, pressing hard against the bed, not letting you move.
you were confused why, when was he this harsh, his soft touch were long forgotten as he hold you so painfully that you couldn't help but choke out a-
"it hurts" that seems to snap him out of it, as his eyes look at you gently and his touch loosen up a bit- looking at you worriedly but whatever his next thought was, it made his eyes darken again, his grip harden, fingers squeezing your hips, earning a pained groan from you.
"why? don't you like that" he whispers harshly against your ear as he leans in, you frown confused on what does he mean by that, you feel his warm breath against your sensitive neck, making you move your hips, trying to escape whatever is going on.
itadori trail his nose slowly down your ear taking deep breaths in, feeling his lips brush against your neck as he do, your heart is pounding as he settle one of his thick legs between your thigh, while the other is outside- caging you in.
"I don't think I quite understand what you mean, my lord." you gasp out, feeling him place his lips on the sensitive part of your neck, while his nose rub gently making it ticklish. itadori lean back to look you in the eyes- his eyes were dark, pupils expanded, staring at you hazely, as if he got drunk on your scent that he was sniffing in.
his eyes trails to your lips, your heart thumps-thumps as he leans in brushing his nose against yours still maintaining eye contact- his mouth half-open just like yours.
"I will show you" he growls out before he fully leans in and take your lips between his teeth- tugging them into his mouth, to meet his warm tongue that peak out to cares your lips, wetting them with his spit- before he fully take your lower lip in, and start sucking on it, making a hot loud wet sound,
this doesn't seem to be enough for him as he leans more in, pushing his knee into your sensitive cunt, making you moan into his mouth which only seems to drive him even more crazy, pushing his knee deeper just like his tongue that makes its way in your mouth just to meet yours.
circling wetly around it, it made you feel so light headed, the way he sucked your tongue into his mouth lapping on it likes he's a new born baby, you whimper into his mouth not realizing that you starting to arch your already dripping cunt into his knee.
"wanna breed you" itadori rasps out, as he break his tongue away from yours staring at the wet string that still connect your mouth together, he grinds his knee into your aching cunt, breathing hard against your lips.
"wanna fuck you" you whimper, your fingers tugging on his hair, letting your tongue out- in intention to tell him that you want his tongue inside your mouth again.
this move of yours drived him crazy, making him groan as he harshly gives you his tongue again swirling it around yours, while he line his throbbing cock against your leaking cunt, grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it up- grinding against your panties only.
yours lips disconnect again with a wet pop sound, as yuji trail his rough large hands under your dress making their way toward your aching nipples- twisting them against his fingers.
"wanna be inside of you now" he moans out more like to himself- his hips thrusting crazily against yours, it was to much force- to inhuman, it made you bounce hard against the bed, you couldn't do anything but grab on his hair for support- which only seemed to make yuji go even more psychotic.
"fuck, want to feel your wet cunt on my face" he growls out, flipping you so fast- that he was laying down as you straddle his face, your panties was ripped into half by itadoris teeth- like it offended him for hiding your cunt from him.
he slapped your ass so hard- you were sure it was going to leave a purple mark, you cry out, "fuck sorry won't do it again" he coo at you rubbing the spot- but he lied, he does it again and again and again, your pussy was so wet, dripping, drenched as you ride your lords face, you can slide on his face from how wet it was with your juice.
slap, slap, slap, your ass was covered with purple hand marks "more-" he laps on your 5th orgasm, "I want fucking more of this sweet little cunt" he growls out eating your cunt up eagerly, your body was limp on top of his face, your full body weight was set on his face- but he only seemed to enjoy it.
"please no more i can't-" he slurps on your clit holding your thighs hard against his face, you choke on your sobs, "I can't please- please".
he gently stroke your ass, as he mutters out "one more", and you give him exactly what he asked for, squirting all over your lords face- it was to much pleasure, you were trying to move your hips away, but he held your thighs locked into his face not freeing you till he licked every single last drop.
you thought it was over as he place you down on the bed- but you judged to quick as you take a look at his ragging cock that was covered with his own cum, seeds leaking out cumming just from eating your delicious cunt out.
your cunt clench once itadori reveals his huge cock, wanting to be filled by it, "please please" you pathetically spread your thighs, showing him your puffy red pussy from being sucked by him.
"you want me to fuck you? you want to be fucked by your lord?" he darkly questions out as he lines his cock, pushing fully in before you got time to answer.
dark, all you can see is dark, pleasure, all you can feel is pleasure, as you open your eyes gasping for air, to see itadori thrusting his hips inside of you, so fast- so hard, chanting to himself.
"fuck you're so tight, so tight" he moans out drool drips from his mouth to yours, it was to hot, to hot, "I'm going to fill with my cum, you want it? you want it?" he crazily questions as he lock his hips with yours, hovering over you, grabbing your chin just to shove his tongue deep inside your mouth, fucking it just like he's fucking your pussy.
"fuck fuck gonna fill you fuuuuuck" he growls as you feel hot cum hit your womb, you twitch underneath him, it was all to much for you- for you little human body.
itadori didn't pull out his cock was spilling since forever, still spilling even as it leaks out into his bed sheets- you whimper, as you feel him rock his hips, fucking his cum into you.
he coo at you, kissing your sweaty forehead before he pulls out, and spread your thighs just to grin crazily as he looks at the way your red puffy pussy was dripping with his cum.
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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ to be continued?₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚
: ̗̀➛ part 2 is 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
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norrizzandpia · 4 months
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you’re my absolute favourite lando fanfic writer, i get so excited whenever you post. can you do some sort of fake dating x enemies to lovers with lando & some angst & grovelling please? i leave the rest up to you, i can’t wait to see what you come up with<3
THIS IS THE BEST MIX OF TROPES I HAVE EVER SEEN I LOVE YOU FOR THIS also thank you so much for saying I’m your fav lando writer I’m blushing ☺️
You Were Never What I Wanted, (LN4)
Summary: Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?
Warnings: language, sexual discussions, very mild smut, lando and yn yearning, yn calling lando a man whore not affectionately, talks of death, a crash, she’s long so grab popcorn, omfg this one hurts
Note: i love a good fake dating y’all don’t GET. IT. Also i added the reformed playboy trope to this to spice things up! It’s very mildly mentioned tho UPDATE: PART 2 POSTED!
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Lando screeches, body flying from his chair beside Y/n.
Charlotte smiles tightly at him, nodding slowly and putting her hands up, “Lando, yes. You know this is the only way to clean up the reputation you two have developed together.”
He groans, turning to pace the room when Zak interrupts, “Lando, be a fucking man and clean up the mess you’ve made.”
He turns quickly, eyes bulging as he yells, “It wasn’t fucking me! It was her!” He turns to look at Y/n, bewildered look in his eyes as he points furiously at her, “It was you! You got us into this mess! You clean it up!”
Y/n rolls her eyes at him and he almost loses his head, “You’re just as at fault, Lando. You’re the one that openly criticized my driving in a room full of reporters and cameras!”
“I was asked a fucking question, Y/n. It was my job to answer it honestly.” He shoots back.
She scoffs, “Are you fucking psychotic? Or just that fucking stupid? Our job is to lie to the press, that’s what it’s always been. Don’t fucking change it when it’s convenient for you.”
Lando’s hands claw at his eyes as they continue to bicker, “The only person who’s stupid here is you.”
“I was standing up for myself!”
“Oh, yeah?! Now, look where that’s gotten us! A fucking PR stunt!”
“Get over yourself, Lando! You’re just as at fault!”
“You’re so fucking annoying, Y/n! Can’t take any fucking accountabil-”
“Oh, please, you’re one to ta-”
“OKAY!” Charlotte claps her hands as she stops the two drivers. The image before her is one she never thought she’d see this season. Lando Norris, a McLaren driver and well known playboy, getting mad he had to kiss one of the most beautiful women to grace the sport of Formula 1, fellow driver on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n. She surely would’ve chuckled if Lando’s eyes weren’t alive with an angry fire she needed to diffuse immediately.
“You two need to just realize that whose fault this was doesn’t matter. What you need to focus on is pretending you’re in love, so the media stops breathing down McLaren’s and Red Bull’s necks. This is the only way we can make all this bad press go away.” She explains, hands moving rapidly in front of her as she tries to calm the two down.
Y/n, the more rational one, nods, accepting her fate with grace. Lando, on the other hand, stomps his foot on the ground and mutters a sentence of agreement before storming out of the room.
Y/n laughs, turning to Zak and Charlotte, the papaya employees looking as if five years had just been taken off their lives, “I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s so fucking childish.”
Charlotte, media trained, smiles, “He’s better when he isn’t angry.”
Zak, not media trained, nods, “Y/n, I’ve never agreed with you more.”
The man and woman share a look, a subtle scolding glint in Charlotte’s eye as she stares at Zak. He backs down, earning a giggle from Y/n as she begins to leave the room.
“You’ll send the NDAs and other contracts over to Red Bull, right? I’d like to get this started and over with as soon as possible.” Y/n smiles, a soft one that makes others feel warm inside.
Charlotte nods, “Of course. Consider it done.”
Y/n, keeping her smile and composure, withdraws from the room, the door closing with a loud click.
Zak and Charlotte are left to sink down into the chairs behind them. Slugging, Zak’s head lulls to her side, “This is either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst one.”
She laughs, “They either fall in love or hate each other more.”
“Okay, so,” Charlotte smiles at Lando and Y/n from her side of the SUV, the two on either side of the car, sitting as far away from the other as possible, “This is going to be a short outing.”
“Thank God.” Lando mumbles under his breath, earning a scowl from the girl beside him.
Charlotte huffs, continuing, “Just a coffee run. You’ll go into the cafe, holding hands, maybe a kiss or two, get your drinks, and then leave. Very quick. However, I need you two to give it your all. This will be the first time the public sees you as something more than enemies. It needs to be convincing. Heart eyes and maybe, if you’re comfortable, roaming hands.”
Lando’s head turns in utter disgust, “If you fucking think I’m going to touch her ass or some shit, you’ve absolutely lost it.”
Y/n’s body whips around, whole torso facing him as she stares him down, “Oh, please, Lando, you get no fucking women. You haven’t touched anybody’s ass, let alone a girl’s, in fucking ages.”
“Oh, yeah? Then, explain the girl that woke up in my bed this morning!” He fires back, head tilting in a challenging way.
Y/n shoves her arms across her chest as she sits back and whispers, loud enough for him and Charlotte to hear, “Man whore.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows lift slightly, exhaling a breath, “Well! This should be fun!”
The car comes to a stop in an alleyway, hidden from prying eyes. Charlotte lets the silence pass between the two for a few moments before leaning over and opening Lando’s door, “Well, get on with it! Chop chop! Don’t have all the time in the world.”
Lando slides out of the car, shaking his head and grumbling incoherently. Y/n follows him, however, when she gets her legs hanging out the door, she is reminded of just how high the car is off the ground. She goes to turn her body around, opting to slide slowly out on her stomach in avoidance of an accident, but, before she can get positioned, Lando grabs her hips and lifts her from the car, down onto the ground.
There’s a moment where she’s so taken aback, surprised, by the movement, all she can do is grip onto his biceps and stare down at her feet, safely on the pavement. It’s only when Charlotte starts yelling, “Yes! Yes, Lando! Just like that! Look at her like that!” That she looks up. What she finds is deep green eyes completely dilated and lost in the sight of her. She reminds herself of the hatred this man has for her, brushing off the way his hands squeeze over the flesh of her hips desperately, and removes herself from his hold.
Immediately, he comes to, the snarl replacing whatever emotion had taken over his face before. She trails down the dirty, smelly passageway, hearing Lando’s feet patter behind her.
It’s as if she’s achingly aware of his presence when he reaches her, just before they turn onto the public street, and takes her hand in his. The way his cologne wraps around her body, suffocating her in the most addicting way, and the feeling of his fingers fitting perfectly in the divots of hers, soft against her skin, has Y/n reeling. She goes along with his movements, relying on him to guide her as she travels to a place where Lando’s just the man she used to think he was; insanely hot and incredibly charming.
He pulls her back, however, when he opens the door for her and quietly says her name when she doesn’t walk through.
“Y/n?” His hand tugs against hers, smiling softly at the way she stares off into space. Whether that smile is genuine, although, Y/n has no clue.
She shakes her head, murmuring a thank you to him as she scurries past the threshold. When they both enter, their presence is immediately clocked by the other customers waiting for their orders. That’s what Y/n tells herself when Lando comes up behind her, arms around her waist as he rests his head on the top of hers.
“What do you want, baby? I’m paying.” He says, low enough for it to come across as a whisper, but loud enough for the girl in front of them to turn her head slightly in curiosity.
He’s surprisingly good at this, falling into the role demanded of him in a way that has Y/n faltering. She was expecting a man who was so distant from her, the same as her past partners, she had to beg for his attention. Yet, here she was getting showered in affection by a man she was convinced didn’t have the capacity for it.
Her response is easy, covering for the feelings arising within a certain part of herself she can’t quite name, “Just a cappuccino. Thanks, Lan.”
His grin is sweet as he lays a kiss on her temple. His hands rub over her hips as he detaches himself from her body and moves in front of her, teasingly pushing her away from the register with a light laugh.
Lando spews off the order to the man behind the counter as Y/n moves to the other side of the establishment, residing where the orders are dropped off. It could’ve been strategic, it probably was she promises herself, but Lando yells across the store to her.
“Y/n! Love, do you want food? They have your favorite here,” He smiles at her, earning a few giggles from fawning girls in the corner, “Croissants!”
Did he know croissants are actually her favorite or was that just a lucky guess?
Y/n gives him an airy chuckle, head falling back slightly in a lovesick way as she shakes her head, “Nah, I’m okay. Just gives us another opportunity to come back here.”
He nods at her, shaking his head at the barista and handing him some cash.
He tips the change, a hefty amount seemingly as Y/n watches the worker hesitate and thank Lando profusely. Her heart warms, shining on the inside as he treats hardworking people, those who are usually treated horrifically, with the utmost respect.
These reactions she’s having toward him are confusing, a far off nagging in her brain that she might’ve always wished for this type of attention specifically from him.
Nevertheless, she forces her mind to end its overwhelming thoughts when he waltzes over and sidles up next to her. She’s determined to keep this transactional, however she can.
She can’t get feelings.
She won’t get feelings.
And that was that, she decided.
“Lando!” Another worker calls out, setting down two drinks on the counter in front of them. Y/n goes to pick them up, however Lando beats her, giving her a cheeky grin as he mumbles, “You’re my girlfriend, Y/n. You don’t get the drinks, I do. Don’t be barbaric.”
She stands staring at him, mouth agape at his comment as the girls sitting behind them, somehow closer now, gasp.
Y/n hits his arm, the liquid jostling in his grip, “We weren’t supposed to say anything yet!”
He shrugs in return as he pushes the door open with the side of his body, and waits for her to walk through, “I guess I just couldn’t wait, baby. Too in love.”
She shakes her head at him, taking the drink from his hand, their digits brushing against the other’s in an electrifying way, “Down the toilet goes the soft launch plan.”
As they turn the corner, the smile he had been adoring her with suddenly vanishes and the usual pain that fills his expression when he’s around her returns.
“I’m just trying to get this over with, Y/n. Waiting a whole fucking month to tell some fans we’re together is so fucking stupid and I’m not doing it.” He bites out, a hostility to him she had forgotten in the ten minutes he had just treated her like she was his everything.
She drops the coffee on the ground as they grow closer to the car, shock at his quick change in attitude forcing her body to go numb. Lando stops when she does, both of them staring down at the leaking, steaming drink.
He dryly laughs at her, “How fucking stupid! Can’t even hold her own drink! No wonder you’re a shit driver!”
He gets in the car, shutting the door harshly and leaving her to internalize his criticisms.
For some reason, after getting a glimpse at what being loved by him feels like, his words hurt more, mean more.
What a dangerous game.
Lando is a known party animal. He’s in love with the blinding lights, loud music, and alcohol flowing without a care in the world what hangover he’d be graced with in the morning. However, with her here, it proves to be a much more stressful experience.
She’s glued to his side, not particularly the clubbing type, and Lando feels his heart quicken when other men bend their backs to see her walk away. A month into the arrangement they structured and he’s consistently feeling as if he’s fighting off every man that floats their way.
He’s worried someone will try to take advantage of her; he’s worried someone will spike her drink; he’s worried someone will touch her weirdly; he’s worried someone will bother her.
He’s worried about her.
A thought so pressing he forces it out of his mind, away from the impending cloudiness that accompanies a topic so big; the way he feels toward her.
The way it was explained to him, by the joint teams of McLaren PR and Red Bull PR, was that, for the first few weeks, their relationship outings would consist of soft dates, quick times spent out together grabbing takeout or a few pictures here and there on both their social medias that addressed their relationship status. Once they got past that time period, they would begin to see the public more often as a union. Long dinners, a handful of charity functions, a gala, and nights out clubbing riddled his calendar now.
Something he wasn’t too opposed to he was coming to find out.
That was the phase they were entering now; the hard launch. After his stunt in the coffee shop those four weeks ago, the teams had to regroup. The girls who had been hanging around had heard his slight confession of love, plastering it on the internet for every person to see.
The consequence? Lando didn’t get to be seen with Y/n for a week as the PR teams waited for the attention around the news to subside.
He wouldn’t risk that now.
Not when he was beginning to get used to the way her hand held his bicep as his fingers tangled in her other hand below.
“Lan?” She yells in his ear, their footsteps just now reaching the VIP section as the bodyguard lets them through.
He looks down at her, their faces centimeters away, lips centimeters away, and Lando’s scared.
Scared of the things he wants to do as her plump, pink lips sit right below his.
“Yeah?” His eyes avert to Max, his best friend, the boy giving him a knowing glance as he sips on his glass.
“Get me a drink please? I would do it myself, but I don’t want to risk having to talk to a random guy and-” He interrupts her immediately when she mentions the possibility of someone else hitting on her.
“I got it.” He’s spinning around, fast walking toward the bar before she can tell him what she wants.
She turns around, wandering over to Max and plopping down beside him on the soft, black couch in the corner of the room.
Max shakes his head as he looks at her, chuckling softly before letting his head fall to his chest.
“What?” She asks, eyebrows raising at the boy she had grown close to over the time she’d spent with his friend.
“You two are so funny.” He continues giggling, his girlfriend smacking his arm with a cautious look.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, “What?”
“You guys say you hate each other, but then you look at each other like you can’t wait to rip the other’s clot-” He begins, but Pietra slaps her hand over his mouth.
“MAX FEWTRELL!” She screams over the music, “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”
Her scolding makes him cower into himself, a drunken look on his face as he searches for mercy from his girlfriend.
Y/n is about to press for more when Lando shoves her drink in front of her, holding it out for her until she cradles it in her own.
Looking down at it, her head tilts, “A vodka soda with two orange slices?”
Lando stares at her blankly, “Yeah, you’re favorite, right?”
She nods, “Yeah.”
They look at each other for a moment. Confusion on both their faces for two different reasons.
“Is that a problem?” He asks her, hand dangerously close to her thigh and heating the skin of her leg up with the need for him to splay his fingers across it.
She shakes her head slowly, “No, just- How did you know it was my favorite?”
Emotions flash through his eyes, too fast for Y/n to decipher them. He withdraws physically, cold returning to her leg when his hand retracts to his lap.
“Uh, you just told me a few times.” He stutters.
If she knew him better, she might say for certain he was nervous.
Not mentioning the fact she had never told him what her favorite alcoholic drink was, Y/n moves on. It’s not because she doesn’t want to find out how he knew what she liked or that she simply doesn’t care how he knows, it’s because a camera catches her peripheral eye. Her head discreetly moves to the side, analyzing the drunken girl who stumbles over to the railing and points her phone right at them.
Y/n falls into Lando’s side, his body laid against the back of the couch and making for a comfortable cushion. His arm automatically wraps around her shoulders as her hand plants itself on his upper thigh.
When her fingers brush teasingly close to his crotch, he looks down at her, astonished, “What are you doing?”
“Camera.” She says, his eyes looking up through his lashes before he sees what she had witnessed before.
He nods subtly, leaning down immediately to press his lips to hers shortly. It’s a kiss like the ones they’d had before, quick and dry, yet, this one, instead of pulling away right after, Lando lingers. His lips brush against hers in hesitation, as if he’s deciding whether or not he wants to lean back in for more. His eyes stare into hers, top lip hitting her bottom one as he dips his chin down. He’s close to taking what he wants, breath heavy against her face as he holds her to him. His hands eagerly claw at her dress, forcing her to stay where she is, where he wants her to be, close to him. Yet, he continues to hesitate.
Finally, for the first time, Y/n sees the emotion that hides behind the beautiful color of his eyes; confusion.
It’s only for a split second though. She sees it only for a millisecond as Lando feels the way she breaks down a wall he had built up long ago. When she realizes the war behind his head, he retreats.
His hands fall from her back and his head turns to the side, rejecting what he wanted to do. She watches him look for the girl that had been filming them, eyes roaming over the crowd before coming to the conclusion she was gone.
“No camera.” He says curtly, pushing her off him as he gets up from the couch and walks back to the bar.
She watches him order another drink, no doubt for himself.
Her eyes train on the drink that sits, sweating, on the table in front of them.
Lando’s drink that’s completely full.
🏎️
Liquid courage is a real thing. It’s what drives Lando to ask Y/n to join him on the dance floor. It’s what drives Y/n to pull him into her and sway her hips right against him. They’re on beat with the music, it thumping in their hearts as Lando grips her hips and forces her body closer to his. There’s a newfound sexual tension, rather than the usual tension that consisted of complicated feelings and lingering hurt over past insults. Her hands drape over his neck, head in his chest as he lays his against her shoulder, withholding groans when she circles her hips and accidentally caresses his dick.
His head’s somewhere else, terrifyingly so. He’s not fully thinking through his actions or the thoughts running through his head, the consequences they would have.
All he can think about is the feeling of Y/n’s boobs pressed up against his chest, her cleavage cum-worthy when he looks down and sees her potential spill-out.
The chorus of Love Tonight pumps through the speakers, communicating the feelings they’re too scared to say.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
The music spurs him on, almost nudging his head downwards to meet her in the same spot they had been in just a few hours before.
His lips hovering over hers with the same thoughts as before, Lando’s brain goes haywire. She’s panting against him, hips relentless as they continue to circle against him. He’s drowning in her, no escape from the hold she has on him.
Fuck it, he thinks.
He smashes his lips against hers, the first kiss they’ve had that truly puts into perspective how much they want each other. Teeth clashing, his tongue wandering the walls of her mouth, Lando and Y/n fail to come up with an excuse for their actions.
No cameras, no fans, no press.
Just the two of them, dancing and kissing with one singular goal.
All I need is your love tonight.
“Here’s your check! Thank you for joining us tonight!” The waiter smiles, setting down the black booklet as Lando quickly swipes it from the table.
Whining, Y/n waves her card around, “Lando, when are you going to let me pay? I don’t think I’ve paid a single time we’ve been together.”
He smiles at her mischievously, “Exactly.”
She rolls her eyes, “Lando,”
He eyes her as he scribbles onto the receipt, “Y/n,”
She scoffs, sitting back in her chair with a huff.
When he’s done, he gives her a sympathetic look before reaching across the table and grabbing her hand, “How about next time we get coffee you pay for your own?”
She looks away from him with a failing suppressive smile, “That’s like five dollars, Lan! You’ve probably spent thousands in the time we’ve been together.”
He shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter.”
Her face scrunches up, “Yes, it does!”
He’s about to rebuttal, but the screeching of people close to them takes their soft eyes off the other.
A mixed group of girls and boys stop at their table, smiling brightly at the two drivers. One of them stands in the middle, phone clutched to her chest as she asks, “Can we get a picture?”
Lando looks to Y/n, searching for approval, but she’s not looking at him. He watches her face light up, smiling big at the fans in front of them as she gets up from her chair.
“Yeah, of course!” She laughs, a sound so light and delicate, it makes Lando’s heart clench in his chest. He never saw the way she acted around fans, having been isolated from them in the times they were together. However, now, as he stays put in his chair and stares on, he adores the way she adores them.
His hands clasped in his lap, Lando sits motionlessly. He can’t take his eyes off the woman who is very clearly making this group’s year. They all stare at her as if she held the moon in their hands, a present from her to them. There’s a simple sparkle in their eyes as she takes pictures with each of them, a simple sparkle that tells him just how much these kids look up to her.
He’s enamored by her, just like they are. For different reasons, though.
“Lan, are you going to get up?” She giggles, hitting his arm and reminding him of the task at hand.
The group stares at him, not the same way they had stared at her notably. He can tell they value him, they’re excited by him, but they aren’t starstruck by him.
He can live with that, though. He gets what it’s like to become speechless over something so beautiful.
After a few more clicks of the camera, the supposed couple sits back down in their seats, but Y/n doesn’t let the fans leave yet. He watches as they brighten at her starting conversation with them.
He loves this. He loves he-
“I have to say, I was so surprised when I found out you two were together.” One of the girls in the group interrupts his questionable internal dialogue. He’s relieved, however. He can’t be thinking that way.
He can’t be feeling that way.
He isn’t.
Y/n tilts her head up at them, “Yeah?”
The group nods and one of the boys speaks up, “Yeah, you two, like, hated each other.”
Everyone laughs, Y/n sitting back in her chair as Lando watches her take the statement easily, “Well, we didn’t hate each other. We did love each other, just didn’t know how to deal with it.”
Her eyes meet his and, for a moment, Lando wonders if she truly means it or if she’s signaling for him to add on.
He goes with adding on, “Yeah, definitely. Who could hate her?”
You could, she thinks. You do, she thinks.
The words sink her heart to her stomach. A reality so crushing, she hates to entertain it. When this is all over, he’ll go back to hurting her with jabs that attack her self-confidence and she’ll be left to hang on to the man he had been when they were “together”.
She doesn’t want to go back to hating him, yet she’s scared she will. She doesn’t want to go back to knowing who he truly is at his core, yet she’s scared she will.
She doesn’t want to go back to knowing what he truly thinks of her, yet she’s scared she will.
By the time she returns to the conversation, the fans are simultaneously thanking them for their time and kindness. Leaving them alone, Lando stands from the table and checks the bill once more. Y/n grabs her bag, “Why’re you checking it again?”
He looks up at her as his pointer finger lingers on the paper, “Oh, just calculating what you’ll owe me when this is all said and done. You know, when we go back to hating each other’s guts.”
He says it jokingly, she can tell he’s teasing as he laughs it off, holding her hand gently as he leads her out of the restaurant. But, none of that stops the way she exhales a deep breath, a sigh that carries so much pain, she wonders where it came from.
Lando used to mean nothing to her, or so she thought.
Had he always meant everything?
Silverstone is supposed to be a fun race for Lando. It’s one of his favorites on the calendar. Although, that joy is rapidly tanking as he races quickly around the track, smoke emitting from behind him and filling the air, filling his helmet. He coughs harshly as he rushes into his radio, “Was that a crash?! Who is it?! Are they okay?! Is it on fire?! There’s smoke.”
There’s panic in his voice, knowing regardless of who it is, he’ll be worried.
Andrea’s silent on the other line, heightening Lando’s concerns.
“Andrea! What’s going on? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you.” Andrea responds immediately.
Lando rounds a corner before he speaks back, confusions drenching his tone, “Okay, so who was that? Are they okay?”
Andrea is monotone, “I don’t know if they’re okay right now.”
Lando’s heart drops, “Oh, no, who was it? Was it one of the Williams? A Ferrari? Maybe a Haas?”
Again, Andrea doesn’t answer him and Lando is about to press him further when he reaches the crash site once more. Eyes trained on the color of the car, the words “Red Bull” hit him hard.
Andrea waits for the anxiety to kick in on the other line, fully prepared to talk him down as he watches for any updates on the crash.
“IT’S A FUCKING RED BULL! IS IT Y/N? ANDREA, IS IT Y/N?” He screams, voice shaking as he begins to slow down, cars passing him by and making him lose positions.
Andrea watches the decline of Lando’s car in the race standings, head falling as he realizes no information about Y/n will come quick enough to make him get back in the race.
Calmly, he responds, “I am not sure who it is yet.”
He hears Lando groan aggressively, “Bullshit! Is it her?!”
His yelling can be heard throughout the entire wall, everyone giving side glances to Andrea over the man who is currently screaming.
“Lando, I promise you, if I knew who it was, I would tell you.” Andrea gives, voice pleading.
It’s quiet for a moment, the only thing heard being the sounds of Lando’s heavy breathing. Solemnly, Andrea watches a camera zoom in past the smoke and center the number of the car in the frame.
Y/n’s car.
Clicking the button, Andrea speaks to Lando, “I can confirm it is Y/n’s car. No knowledge of if she’s gotten out of the car or not.”
Again, there’s silence before Lando’s hand smacks his steering wheel and he lets out a noise filled with anguish, “Please, tell me when you find out.”
Torturously, Lando passes by her car at every turn, watching only for a second as people work to try and get her out of the car.
Andrea watches in horror as a group of men lift her from the car, her body limp and unmoving as they run her to the safety car.
“She’s out of the car.” He murmurs to Lando, praying the boy won’t ask more questions.
He does, “Good! That’s good! By herself or did she need aid?”
The sound of Andrea’s heavy sigh kills Lando, “No, not by herself. She needed help.”
“How much help?”
Silence.
Lando yelps, “ANDREA! TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON RIGHT FUCKING NOW! THIS IS MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! HOW MUCH FUCKING HELP?”
“She’s not moving.”
Lando doesn’t say anything, his mind racing as his eyes water.
Finally, he speaks, “I need to retire the car.”
Andrea and the rest of the pit wall turn to look at each other with outraged stares, “What? No, Lando. The car’s perfectly fine. The pace is great, no dam-”
Lando interrupts Andrea with a broken voice, “The car’s not the reason we need to retire the car. It’s the driver. It’s me.”
Everyone can hear it in the way his voice cracks, he’s crying, knowing he can’t see through it. It’s a danger, it truly is, and that forces Andrea and the team to comply with Lando’s demands.
When he parks in the garage, he clampers out. Shoving engineers, Andrea, his dad, Zak, and anyone else who gets in his way or tries to talk to him, Lando sprints over to the medical center. On his way, he loses his mind over the possibility that she might not be there, already at the hospital, or she will be there, but just her lifeless body.
He’s still drenched in sweat, the amount doubling from his running, when he gets there. Lando pushes past the people who stand at the front, not giving them time to tell him he can’t come in. He hears them call out in opposition, but he’s already in and he just doesn’t care.
There’s no time to address the feelings swirling in his stomach that feel ten times what he had felt for any of his past girlfriends. There’s no time to talk about the way he cries over the image of her burning car or her unconscious body being pulled from it. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, last year, he wouldn’t have acted this crazed over her accident. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, now, he’s fully prepared to brawl with anyone that dares to stand in his way of finding her.
There’s no time because he’s reaching her door and flinging it open. There are nurses beside her conscious figure, tending to the scratches and cuts she has from the car’s debris. Even with the bloodied bandages, Lando smiles at her smiling at him.
When she sees him, her arm reaches out for him without thinking. He takes long strides to get to her even in the small room and, when he does, he grabs her hand.
Kneeling down on the floor beside her, he squeezes her hand, “You okay?”
She nods, “Will be.”
“That’s good enough for me.” He whispers, nurses glancing at each other before exiting the room at the intimacy flowing between the two.
They really were selling this.
Suddenly, Y/n’s eyebrows knit together as her gaze lifts to the clock on the wall, “Wait, Lan, the race is still going. Did you crash?”
He shakes his head, eyes averting from hers, “No, I retired the car.”
Her other hand reaches to turn his gaze back to hers, holding his jaw softly as he smiles at her, “Why?” She whispers.
“Because I needed to make sure you were okay.”
The truth hangs in the air painfully.
They can’t speak of what that means or what that alludes to. They can’t speak of the way he clutches onto her hand as if she’ll go away. They can’t speak of the way he raced over here, throwing important people to the side in a state of pure panic. They can’t speak of the way they stare at each other, yearn for each other in a way that goes against every rule they agreed to when this started.
All they can do is kiss each other sweetly and lie.
Lie to themselves about what will happen after it’s over; lie to themselves about how much they truly care for each other; lie to the PR teams and tell them nothing is developing between them, that it’s safe to continue this.
And, most of all, later, when Zak asks Lando why he has lip gloss smudged against his mouth, they must lie.
“Can you zip me up?” Y/n turns around in the car, her back to Lando as her dress hangs open slightly at the top.
He nods, fingers delicate against her skin as he glides against it, trailing the cool metal up. His hands finish on her shoulders, slowly rubbing softly as she begins to lean against him.
“Lan, that feels good.” She mumbles, words slurred from the way his fingers work the knots under her skin.
Her body lies fully on him, his mouth by her ear as they wait to get to their destination. He continues to massage her, whispering random things in her ear about errands they need to run or complete tomorrow.
With her eyes closed and relaxed state, Lando admires how safe she feels around him. Five months ago, Y/n wouldn’t have dared to let him touch her in the way he was, in the way he had over the past two months, however things had changed. For better or for worse, Lando still wasn’t sure.
The driver in the front eyes them questionably, having witnessed the change in their dynamic over their months together.
With her body still limp against him, the car stops in front of the gala’s entrance. Photographers scream beyond the door and flashes of cameras blind them even as they sit behind the glass.
Looking at her and taking her hand in his, Lando whispers, “Ready?”
She nods, “Always.”
A man opens their door, the volume erupting as Lando steps out, his hand clutching Y/n’s as she follows suit. Immediately, they’re pulled into multiple pictures. Lando’s arm finds its home around her waist with Y/n’s hand resting on his chest, a couple so perfect for each other. Their endeavor had been so incredibly successful, both their teams’ PR divisions were pleasantly surprised. Lando looks on at her, a radiant smile gracing her face as she speaks to one of the reporters on the carpet, and hates the feeling of knowing how close the end is.
In just a few weeks, they’ll be sitting down to write a small paragraph, one that will be posted to their Instagram stories as it tries to sum up the romance they thought they had.
At night, he tries to think of words to describe the moments he’s had with her and, every time, he comes up empty.
Her laughing at the journalist’s joke makes him come to the conclusion there will never be a time where he can gather syllables to explain how undeniably perfect she is.
How he got to the place of being able to address how wonderful she was? Lando had an inkling it was because of the way she made his heart pound and hands sweat.
🏎️
Lando and Y/n easily make their rounds throughout the room, greeting sponsors and potential ones with their hands clasped together. It’s obvious how charming they are together, obvious when random strangers are flipping open their checkbooks at the sight of them. Lando knows it’s all her with her thoughtful sentences and engaging demeanor.
He’s a side piece and he’s okay with that, only okay with it when he’s her side piece.
They’re in the midst of sharing a new drink they decided to try, giggles shared between them as they pass the glass between each other. They had started doing this ages ago, when they first grew closer to one another. In order to make these events go by quicker, they started trying all the items on the alcoholic menu they had never heard before. Some of his favorite memories of her had taken place when she tried something she didn’t like and almost spit it out at him.
“I think this one’s good! What’s it called again? Something sexual, right?” She asks as he takes another swig.
Lando shakes his head, grin on his face as he lifts the drink up to their eye level, “I forgot, but it must be cum something. Sure does look like cum.”
Her mouth falls open and she screeches, “Lando!”
He falls over onto the table beside them, laughing, “What? You don’t swallow?”
She joins him in laughter, “You wish you knew.”
Of fucking course, he thinks.
“Lando?” A voice from his past calls from behind them.
Lando’s heart drops, turning around and seeing Luisinha.
“Hey, Lu!” She moves to hug him, squeezing him lightly before letting her eyes drift to the girl quietly standing with him.
“Hi, Y/n.” She speaks, smiling softly as she hugs her.
Luisinha giggles before looking between the two, “I assume I need to be reintroduced to you. Before, you were Y/n, driver for Red Bull. Now, you’re Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend.”
Y/n nods, a gesture that looks to come so easy to her, Lando wishes it was real.
They hug again, chuckling at the situation before Luisinha directs her attention back to her ex-boyfriend, “It’s nice to see you, Lan! All those nights spent on the phone just aren’t the same as seeing you in person.”
Y/n loses her breath over Lu’s words, gaze drifting immediately to Lando and watching as he nods along.
“Yeah! Seriously, talking to you over the phone isn’t enough.”
His response, easy and light, crushes her.
Y/n steps in closer, “Sorry, um, you two still talk?”
Luisinha looks to Lando, intrigue in her eyes as she searches him. Lando, the boy stuck between his past and present, realizes his mistake.
He shakes his hands, “No, I mean- Yes, but it’s not like that, Y/n.”
Luisinha stays silent as she watches Y/n try to keep her composure, “When was the last time you talked?”
Lando can’t bring himself to answer, so Lu does for him, feeling for the girl in between them, “Last night.”
He watches Y/n’s face slowly process the information. It’s as if reality comes crashing down on her, a harsh moment that reminds her of what they are to each other at the end of the day.
Y/n nods, smiling at the two before beginning to walk back, “I need a minute, sorry.”
Lu watches Lando long for her, momentarily wishing Y/n would just understand how much he feels for her, and Luisinha, finally, gets a wave of closure. She understands now why they broke up. When he ended it, Lando had told her he loved her more as a friend, something that broke her, yet, now, she understands why she had been so confused. Originally, she thought he did love her, he just been too afraid to tell her the real reason for their separation, but, as she stares at the pooling in his eyes, she sees a look she never got.
A look of intense love.
She nudges his arm, “Don’t let her get away.”
He nods at her, running off in the direction Y/n had left, eyes searching for her in the sea of people.
🏎️
Lando catches sight of her gorgeous y/h/c hair off in a small hallway of the hotel. He jogs over, her back to him, and lays a soft hand over her shoulder.
She stiffens, refusing to turn around and meet his eyes. However, his voice coaxes her, “Y/n, look at me.”
As much as she tries not to, she does and it breaks her further.
Her watery eyes and lost head tilt are a stab to Lando’s heart, her choked up voice speaking, “So, you were talking to her the entire time we were doing this?”
He’s at a loss, knowing that’s the perfect truth, yet knowing it isn’t fully, “Yes, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
Her body jerks away from him and the anger he was usually greeted with returns, “Oh?! Then, what does it mean, Lando?! Because it looks like I meant fucking nothing to you! I know it isn’t in my head! I know what’s happened between us isn’t just some people getting over the hatred they had for each other! I thought you felt that way too!”
“I do!” He yells back, frustration at her obliviousness getting to him.
Tears leak down her face, “Then, why did you spend the entirety of this talking to your ex! Why’d you agree to this if you still love your ex?!”
Lando groans, “I don’t love my ex! I don’t love Lu! I love you!”
Her tears fall harder, “Do you? How could someone love another person they used to loathe?!”
Lando shakes his head, overwhelmed at what’s going on in his brain, “It just happened, Y/n! You think I thought this would happen?! No, I didn’t!”
Y/n resigns, quiet taking over other than their heavy breathing, “I don’t believe you.”
His annoyance takes over, “Well, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
I want you to tell me why you love me, she thinks. I want to know where your hate turned to love, she thinks.
Those things go unsaid.
Instead, she huffs, “I think this has gotten too out of hand. I think we need to end this arrangement early.”
She sees the unmistakable sadness etched into his face, “How early?”
“Like, tonight.” She whispers, protecting herself from the world of hurt that would be being loved by him. She isn’t Luisinha, she isn’t a model or breathtaking woman. She’s a girl who fell in love with a “boy’s” sport, a girl who has seen the flaws within herself and tried, desperately, to change them, rewrite them. She never does, although. She always comes out the same on the other side.
The truth catches up with her and images of the beautiful women Lando has had in his bed fill her mind. How does she know this isn’t some elaborate prank to get her vulnerable and then humiliate her out of the resentment he holds against her and the situation she got him in?
Lando musters up some sort of guard, distaste returning after its five month long hiatus, “Fine. I’ll let McLaren know. This works anyway. You served your purpose, got my reputation back to where it was before you came in and fucking destroyed it. You ruin everything, you know that, Y/n?”
She nods, cries intensifying at what she had been afraid of: his hatred for her returning after getting to know a side of him so tender.
“Got it, Lando.” She whispers, slinking past him and out of the building.
He watches her walk away, confused at how he had confessed his love for her and ended it by telling her she was destructive.
She isn’t. How could he say that?
How could he tell the one woman who had built him up that she had tore him down? How could he let frustrated anger replace the love he had for her?
How could he let her get away?
UPDATE: i posted part 2! Find it here.
A/N: TUMBLR GLITCHED OUT AND WAS CRACKING DOWN AT HOW LONG THIS WAS SO I WILL MAKE A PART TWO WITH A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE
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hussyknee · 1 year
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Hey, just in case people who already have been having a bad time with this meme are retriggered by Francesca Scorcese's TikTok – Goncharov is fake. It doesn't exist. [Edited for further clarity] That is really Martin Scorsese's daughter, that's her real TikTok account, and presumably that is really her father in the chat screenshot she posted. Francesca saw the piece in the NY Times talking about how Tumblr made up a fake movie, sent her Dad the link and asked "Did you see this?" Martin joked back "yes I made that movie years ago." That's all it was, Martin Scorsese himself playing along with our silliness.
PLEASE reblog this and DO NOT TAG IT UNREALITY. "Unreality" is for posts that are keeping up the bit, but info posts, reality-affirming posts and ones talking about the meme as a meme are solidly real. We really haven't been doing a good enough job tagging this properly and protecting neurodivergent people from being gaslit and traumatized. I've seen way too many people saying they nearly had a breakdown because of being lied to. We never meant to hurt you, and I'm so sorry people were jackasses when you wanted to know the truth.
Edit: I love everybody reblogging this, but a handful of idiots have been clowning on this post so here's an explainer about how site-wide disinformation can trigger psychosis. Please go in the replies and notes, they have a lot of interesting insights, by everyone from non-psychotic autistic people with gaslighting trauma to DID systems. You can go through the notes on this post as well.
There's absolutely no reason to be ashamed of loving and enjoying this meme, or to feel bad about not tagging things properly when you didn't know how. And PLEASE don't harass, dogpile or shame people for failing to tag properly or choosing not to. You're just giving people anxiety and policing them. Do what you can how you can, be kind, and don't tell other people their business. That is more than enough.❤️
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the-did-i-ask · 2 months
Note
Are you willing to do platonic requests? If not then just ignore this- but I was wondering if I could request a bat-like teen reader for Hazbin Hotel! Like they have a shitty vision in bright areas and have really good hearing? I don't mind what format you use!
MAKE SURE YOU DRINK SOME WATER AS WELL
-👻 anon
A/N: Hey Ghostie!!! I am drinking water don’t worry and I am a sucker for platonic requests!!!
~~
You went to the hotel initially to try and get some peace away from the scum of hell
Let’s just say it’s not great for a teenager, especially when they hate bright lights and loud noises
Charlie was ecstatic to let you stay
You weren’t a bother, didn’t really do anything wrong, and were fun to be around
However she was fascinated by your hatred of lights
When she made you a cake to welcome you to the hotel, you physically recoiled at the harsh sparkler candles that she had decorated it with
She was so so sorry, literally through them out the window and closed the blinds for good measure
You forgave her of course due to you being new and all
Vaggie understood your hatred for light
On a personal level any bright light or golden hue made her remember her past of violence and golden gates, so she was personally fine just chilling in the dark with you if you didn’t wanna be alone
Alastor was intrigued by you
Will probably flash you with bright lights for the first week just to see how you react, but will mostly leave you alone after that
You’ll have to excuse the psychopath for his psychotic tendencies
Angel and husk literally live you for that
Will use you as an excuse to get Charlie to turn down the lights when they have hang overs
Angel will let you chill in his room since it’s one of the darkest rooms
He just tells you which drawers not to open
You did and you’re scarred
But you choose to ignore the memories as Angel is one of the most accepting people you’ve ever met
Sir Pentious hates your condition but loves you
Hates your condition because he wants to hang with you and teach you stuff but he hates the fact that he wants to help you
Like how dare you make him care about you
But he will oblige because he sees you like his kid
Besides his egg boys
Basically all of them love you
Some more than others (A N G E L)
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multific · 25 days
Text
Two Sides of The Same Coin
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Hannibal Lecter x Wife!Reader
Warnings: Cannibalism, Smut, Murder +18!!!
Summary: You two were so different, yet still the same. 
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"Mrs Lecter?" 
You turned and smiled at the woman. "Yes?" you asked with a soft tone when in reality you were fuming.
How dare she just come up to you out of the blue?!
How dare she interrupt your perfect evening?!
"Hi, My name is Lucy, and I'm a huge fan of your books." of course she was, your books are brilliant. "I truly believe you are a pioneer in the genre of horror-romance."
"Thank you very much." Of course you were, no one was as good as you.
"I was wondering if you could sign my book please?"
"No problem at all." you smiled so sweetly. Why would she even have the book with her?! You are in a restaurant! You quickly signed her book and she thanked you, with your smile still present you turned back and lifted your glass to your lips.
"No need to be angry, Darling." your husband chuckled as you looked into his eyes.
Reading the other as if you were open books was something that came to both of you naturally. 
"I'm here to celebrate our anniversary. Not at a meet and greet."
"Of course, but you have to indulge them a little. Make them think they are important so they keep coming back. You mastered that one, My Love."
"I believe it was you rubbing off on me. After all, it is 30 years we have known one another."
"And I knew you were trouble from the second I saw you. Cunning, manipulative, narcissistic, egoistic, psychotic. And yet you are stunning and mine." Hannibal lifted his glass as you clicked yours against his.
"Only yours." you smiled at him, this one, was not fake but a genuine one for your husband.
On your way home from the restaurant, it began to rain, you let out a long sigh as Hannibal was driving.
"Rain always makes me nostalgic," you said as he grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it. He stopped at a red light and you looked at him. "When you killed my stepfather... for me. It was also raining."
"He had it coming, he abused you and murdered your mother. I gave him a merciful end. One he didn't deserve."
"He deserved to suffer like I did, but it was not what I meant, Hannibal."
"Please, elaborate then."
"You killed him because he was about to kill me, you became my saviour, but it is not only that. I remember you tore him apart, you kept on cutting and breaking his bones. I should have been disgusted, yet all I could think about was the way your muscles tensed and the grunts you let out."
"So, I turned you on." he spoke as he turned a corner. "I figured, from the way you acted after."
"I never got naked so fast in my life. We made love in that pool of blood in front of the fireplace. I remember we were young and unsure. It was so hot, I could taste blood on your lips." you could recall the way he moved his hips, so amazing, he reached such depths inside you that you weren't even sure existed. 
But he could also recall the way you completely submit to him. You only ever done that to him, no one else gets to have control over you, but him.
"Why are you bringing this up now? It has been a very long time ago."
"Because I want you to do the same tonight. As my gift for our wedding anniversary, I wish to watch you hunt, break and cut and then, I want you to fuck me in the blood."
"We are very similar, My Love." he stopped the car, your eyes never leaving him. "I was thinking almost the same." he smiled as the window behind you rolled down.
"Hi there, I like a three-way, 500 for an hour." the woman behind you talked and you finally turned to look at her.
Prostitutes disgusted you, the way they looked at your husband made your blood boil, but you smiled at her. 
"How about a thousand and I get to watch?" Hannibal replied and you smirked.
The woman agreed and got into the backseat, having no idea what she was in for.
"Happy anniversary."
"I love you." you said as he began to drive again.
---
The next morning you wake up in your bed, under the warm sheets with the smell of food filling the air.
You slowly woke up as the blanket fell down your naked body.
You rolled out of bed, and got dressed in one of Hannibal's shirts before heading to the kitchen.
"Good morning." you said as he had his back turned towards you. You rounded the kitchen island and hugged him.
"Morning. I made your favourite for breakfast. Bacon with eggs."
You looked at the meat sizzling in the pan before looking up at Hannibal as he leaned down to kiss you.
"She truly was a pig." 
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Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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saetoru · 1 year
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。NUMBER — SHIDOU RYUSEI.
✩ — contents ⋮ barista! reader, fluff, very annoying yet very sweet boyfriend shidou agenda <3 he’s so romantic in the most vein popping way <3
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shidou loves to bother you at work, it must be his favorite pastime, you think—except now it’s starting to get everyone else at work invested too.
“oh. my. gosh,” you coworker whispers, swatting your arm excitedly, “there’s a guy asking for you��says you made his drink last time.”
“i make a lot of guys drinks,” you shrug.
“yeah but not for guys this cute,” she huffs, “i’m jealous. this is your chance, so don’t ruin it! maybe he’s good in bed too,” she wriggles her brows at you, making you scowl as you roll your eyes.
and then you see it—that mop of blonde hair with those pink ends, and you sigh in exasperation as you walk up to the register.
of course, it’s him.
“hello sir, what can i get for you?” you say monotonously.
“hmm,” shidou grins, tapping his chin as if he’s deeply in thought, “i was just thinking i’d get a drink from a pretty little barista. maybe even a number.”
from the distance, you can see your coworkers stop whatever they’re doing to stare—it’s not like it’s every day that someone this attractive comes in to flirt with a fellow employee. you can just about make out the jealousy in some of their faces and amusement in the others. one thing they all have in common, however, is awe—which you’re not too shocked at, shidou’s admittedly a handsome guy….if you look past how obnoxious he can be, that is.
“what drink would you like?”
“any is fine with me as long as i can get your number as an add on,” he grins, and it’s a wicked grin, really. it’s wide and smug and almost makes him look psychotic. you purse your lips as you shake your head, and distantly, you can hear your earlier coworker groan at your lack of enthusiasm for what you’re sure she’ll later go on to describe as the luckiest experience you’ll ever get.
“that’s not an option we carry here,” you squint, “you must be getting our menu confused for another coffee shop. maybe you should look somewhere else.”
“i don’t know,” he smirks, “i don’t think i’d confuse a pretty face like yours so easily.”
if anyone were to tell you, they’d say shidou ryusei is insufferable. you come to learn this is very true with every possible encounter you have with him, including this one. but there’s something a bit endearing about him, something that’s…dare you say, adorable, despite the way his words are sometimes crass and far from proper. and if the way he’s so persistent for your attention is of any proof, you’d say he’s a pretty determined guy—but you like to see how long you can keep him on his toes.
“i’m sure you say that to all the pretty faces you come across,” you say sarcastically, eyeing him as his smile widens and his eyes glint with amusement.
“nope,” he pops the p as he speaks, “you’re the only one. why, you jealous?”
“you wish,” you snort. “and i can’t give you my number, actually,” you say—and this time, it’s you with a smug grin, catching the eyes of your coworkers as they tilt their heads in confusion, “i have a boyfriend. so i’m afraid it’s simply not possible.”
“oh?” shidou drawls with a raise of his brow, “i bet he’s a loser. bet i could take him in a fight easily. if i win against him, you gotta let me move in with you—how ‘bout that?”
“he is a bit of a loser,” you grin, and anyone could make out the fondness seeping into your voice as your eyes soften at the idea of whoever’s got your heart. “but he’s my loser, so i’m afraid the answers still no.”
“sounds like you love him,” he presses, eyeing you expectantly.
“i don’t know about that one,” you giggle, “he’s still got to prove himself a bit more.”
“that’s harsh,” he hums, “maybe if you gave me your number, i’d prove to be better.”
“sorry, no can do—”
“just give him your number, already!” your coworker cuts you off and huffs, stomping her way over to where you stand. shidou’s got a cheshire grin on his face, eyeing her with that same look of amusement that makes you pinch your nose as you sigh. “you and i both know good and well you don’t have a boyfriend so do yourself a favor and just—”
“and how can you be so sure there’s no boyfriend?” shidou raises his brow.
you try, you really do—but you can’t help but finally crack. it’s a small giggle at first, and then it’s a fit of laughter that makes his eyes soften and his lips quirk into a lopsided beam that’s nothing short of lovesick.
“if you do seem to think there’s a boyfriend in the equation, why pursue someone then?” you coworker raises a brow, arms crossed as she challenges him, “that makes you a jackass, don’t you think?”
“easy,” shidou cackles, leaning in and pressing one, two, three soft pecks to your lips, making everyone gasp as you roll your eyes affectionately, “i’m the boyfriend. sometimes i like to keep the romance alive and fight myself every once in a while.”
“wha—” she’s left speechless, staring at him as she tries to comprehend what he’s just said with her mouth hung. shidou only mocks her opened mouth, and you reach over and swat his shoulder, making him snicker.
“that’s enough, ryu,” you warn—though you don’t sound all that serious. “i’ll be off in ten. are you gonna order anything or just stand there?”
“aw, c’mon baby. ‘course i am,” he pulls out his card, handing it to you, “i’ll take your favorite. you keep it though,” he winks.
“god you’re so annoying,” you mumble, but still, you don’t pull away when he leans for another peck on the lips, even as your coworkers chant a chorus of get a room from the back.
“see you in ten, baby,” he calls over his shoulder, walking off to find himself a seat as he waits for you.
yeah, you think, your coworkers are really going to be invested in this one.
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he’s like…so very sweet and in love but in a very annoying and odd way. like he’d vandalize a building to spray paint your initials together in a heart or something
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strawbsj · 2 months
Text
Noncon, G!p Purinz headcanons!
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WARNINGS: THIS IS NON CONSENSUAL WORK SO IF YOU DECIDE TO READ THIS, IT IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. cum eating, unprotected sex, yandere theme, sexual harassment, threesome, blowjob, p in v.
-Goddamn, how fine you looked! You were their new classmate very antisocial, didn’t really interact with anyone, intelligent and gorgeous, insanely gorgeous. They used to skip most of their classes but once they saw you entering the class, not a single lesson did they skip.
-The class went by fast, just their eyes never leaving your form, either be it your gorgeous face or your petite but curvy form. Those curves that they’d die just to place their hands on.
-They tried to get to know you, but you only kept things as “classmates” never gave them any chance or attention and that made them frustrated and upset. They even tried to walk you home once but you were quick to turn them down.
-They were now more than upset and frustrated, their “love” turned into psychotic obsession. They were addicted to you, you were their honey coated drug, your smell, your smile, your delicate curves were driving them insane. They would choose you over oxygen any time, simply you were just intoxicating.
-It was the end of the school year and the class had one last school project, that they had to do in groups. So when the teacher announced who are the participants in each group, and when they heard your name with theirs. They flashed the widest grin, that everybody could swear their smile was so wide that they could be the next Joker. After seeing their reaction you knew you were trapped in lions cave.
-You tried to keep the interaction with them to the minimum, and do your part in the project. But they always found a way to talk to you or linger those small but meaningful touches. Hand on your shoulder when talking or hand brushing your thighs. You laughed awkwardly, you always wanted to work on the project in public places at first.
-But once they invited you to Chaewons house,you denied but after knowing Chaewon “injured” her ankle you couldn’t find an excuse to do it in another place but her house, because if you did deny you’d seem like such a horrible person with no empathy. So you agreed on continuing the project at her house.
-At first it was pretty normal and for a second you felt safe, but the way Chaewon and Yunjins hand were on your inner thighs longer and the little circles they were drawing at your thigh, couldn’t go unnoticed. You just gulped nervously, trying to not think about it.
-How can you be so oblivious?!? They thought if you aren’t going to give in to their touch, it doesn’t matter they are going to have you either by your own will or perhaps even Force. They couldn’t care less, knowing it’s wrong.
-Chaewon was now really tired, she and Yunjin have been waiting for months. She yanked your hair back harshly, earning a gasp and a scream from you at the same time. “Listen, we have been waiting for you for months now, so be a good little slut, and take us!” She says with the same joker grin. You push her away, but Yunjin quickly grabs your hand and places then behind your back.
-The both of them were dancers and you are one and they are two. They were quick to dominate you, your eyes became glassy and soon waterfall flooded down, wetting your cheeks and face. They were quick to rip your clothes, leaving you under their eyes of lust and desire.
-They forced you onto all fours, Yunjin from the back and Chaewon in front of your face. Without warning Yunjin slammed herself inside you with force, earning a broke sob from you, the pain unbearable. “I-it hurts pl-please p-pull out” you cried out, without even letting you adjust to her size. She started ramming her dick into your tight and warm cunt. “P-please st-stop” you begged her to stop, she let out a loud huff. “Chaewon please shut her up” Chaewon forcefully opened your mouth “let’s put your mouth into a good use, slut” she placed her whole length into your wet mouth,groaning at the sensation.
-The pleasure replaced pain, and unconsciously you started replying to Yunjins thrusts but you were muffled by Chaewons thick veiny cock. “Slut seems like she enjoys this” Chaewon chuckled darkly, Yunjin let out the same dark chuckle. Your nails digged deep into Chaewons hips, while Yunjins animalistic thrusts never slowing down, getting messier indicating she was close, hissing and panting,spanking your ass harshly leaving red area.
-At the same time while you were bobbing your mouth on Chaewons length she started thrusting back onto your mouth. Also close, you couldn’t care anymore, the only thing on your mind is orgasming. Your hips started thrusting back into Yunjins cock, while Chaewon was still thrusting into your mouth, few more thrusts and Chaewons creamy thick seed filled your mouth while Yunjins warm sticky release filled your hole to the brim. When your liquid flood down your thighs mixed with Yunjins seed, disgust ran through you. You swallowed Chaewons fluid while she gave you a dirty smirk, you felt disgusted with yourself. how could you give yourself this easily?!? Were you this cheap?!? Those questions ran through your mind, and soon tears filled your eyes again. Chaewon and Yunjin faked a pout while pulling out “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy this whore!” Yunjin uttered “you probably enjoyed this even more than us!” Chaewon continued.
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romanoffsbish · 7 months
Text
Easy to Love
Natasha Romanoff x Pregnant!R
Natasha can’t get enough of her pregnant wife 😋🍽️ | WC: 2,958
Smut: Lactation | Oral (R)
18+ | Minors DNI
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Natasha walked through the front door of your cottage with a heavy sigh, her body ached but she somehow managed to take a shower before she came to find her comfort. You were turned away from the door, putting away her laundry as you listened to your favorite song on repeat.
Your hips slightly swayed along, but there was a stiffness as you moved to indicate you were in back pain but persevering for her nonetheless.
——
The aching pain she felt faded into static as she waltzed up to aide you with yours, clearing her throat so as to not startle you with her touch alone. Her thumbs dug into the small dips in your back that made you fade into submission. She softly grinned against your neck as she felt the full lean of your body, and the vibrations of your moans against the imprint of her teeth.
Then she was back to the problems at hand, "What did the doctor say about resting detka?"
You hummed a playful tune, "That doesn't apply here my dearest one, because you see, I never tire of being your doting housewife."
"Pregnant housewife," Natasha pleads, and you sigh softly, "Who can do more than sit down, I promise you I'm not overdoing it my beloved."
Natasha's hot breath fluttered over the sensitive skin of your enlarged breasts and you felt her gently nod, she was waving her white flag, and then staking all of her green ones in your field of dandelions as she adjusted her stance, making your breath catch in your throat as you felt pure relief as your wife lifted up your baby bump. Holding up the boulder as if it weighed nothing and her muscles weren't already strained to the max as it was.
"Nattt," you went to weakly protest, worried about her own physical state, but she gently pecked your cheek and cut you off, "This is a partnership, so if you can take a load off of my back then so can I for you. Just relax honey."
Natasha chuckled as she saw her shirt crumble in a heap on the floor and heard your soft snoring only a few moments later. She knew it wouldn't last long, you'd likely wake with a start in seconds. So she cherished the moment and gazed down upon your smiling face, and admired the glow pregnancy gave to you.
"Let me see you," you grumbled tiredly, and she complied by lowering your bump, and holding you steady as you groaned in misery.
Then she stepped back to strip off her pjs, and you both gazed at the others exposed body. Worry filled yours as you took in all the nasty bruising overtaking her skin, but your wife saw the sidled relief when you let out a shaky breath as you saw she remained puncture free.
While you worried for her, she admired you.
Natasha knew it was borderline psychotic that all she could think about was how she wanted to have you spread open for her. Your bump was hanging low, layered with the stretched straps of your maternity panties and your nipples were covered by sticky nursing pads.
"You are so beautiful moya lyubov," Natasha coo'd as she looked you up and down, you rolled your eyes at her, but didn't try to refute knowing full well Natasha would argue back. The woman adored you just as you came, and would love to show you how much. You were the picture of undeniable beauty in her eyes, even if you didn't believe it, she'd show you.
Starting with moisturizing her face with your slick before she went to sleep, it'd been six days too many since she last had. You were apart of her post mission meal plan, and she's starved. She swore it's because you tasted different pregnant, not that you weren't heavenly before, but she just grew rather insatiable as of late.
"Detka," she purred and you quirked a brow knowingly. "Will you be gentle?" Natasha's darkened eyes softened, "Of course angel."
Natasha discarded her boxers, then she helped you out of your own before she guided you over to the luxury mattress. She surrounded your body with fluffy pillows, and used another more firm one to lift your hips. The redhead was at your side next, her eyes lovingly stared down into your own, then she kissed you dizzy.
Her hands caressed your breasts, and you cried out in perceived relief. The white nursing pads darkened and she obviously zeroed in on that, it was only seconds before she removed them and sucked one of your nipples into her mouth.
"Fuck," you groaned, hands flying to her hair to keep her pressed against you. Your supply was barely in, so the redhead only got a few pebbles but it was enough to drive her wild. "Mmm," her husky vibration was the cause of your increasingly dripping heat, the one she chose to explore while tending to your other breast.
Natasha's hand ventured beneath your panties to find a steaming goldmine of arousal, your pulsing entrance nearly abducted her curious fingers as she slid on by. Her curiosity was doubled, and just like that she was parting from your side with a breathless grin and an eager tongue. Natasha's hands caressed your thighs and you closed your eyes in anticipation.
You smiled more wholesomely instead as you felt her lips softly pressing onto your bump. It was a briefly repetitive gesture up until your heady scent called her lips home. Melodious moans that soon filled the room as Natasha's tongue entered you were just as glorious as the sloshing of your juices due to her lashing.
The redhead held no remorse as pleasurable tears soaked into the pillow beneath your head. Her only goal was the grand reward that came when you did, the warmth that gushed out of you and coated her throat always worth the wait, which as of late isn't long with just how sensitive you've become during pregnancy.
You were squirming, but the pillow that kept your hips raised left you unable to escape. Natasha loved every sound that left your body, whether it be the series of loud moans, or the more choked up mewls. It was all glorious, and ego-boosting enough for her to be satiated by your second orgasm that drenched her face.
"Nat," you croaked in a plea she'd already intended to answer. "I know moya lyubov'," she husked against the skin of your thigh as she was catching her breath and you hummed as her knuckles softly pressed into your sides.
The last thing she wanted was to hurt you or the growing infant, so she settled on gently massaging your bump as she continued to breathe in the sweet aroma of your cunt.
After a moment of calm the redhead slowly kissed her way up your body until she was hovering your face. "You okay?" You nodded with a dopey smile, and she met your lips with her very own after the adorable reassurance.
The kiss was sloppy, but sweet as she let you lead it, she relished in the way that you moaned at the taste of your very own essence. Then your stomach rumbled, and she was off.
"I'll be back in a minute, you need to eat too." You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, and as soon as she disappeared you wobbled off of the bed and returned to your previous task.
When the redhead reentered the room with a tray she groaned in frustration, "Detka, get back in bed, the clothes can wait for me until tomorrow." You sighed, "This was my load Nat, and you know I refuse to leave behind a mess."
"Please," she whined, and you knew then that she needed to care for you, and feel your warmth close by so that she could fall asleep.
"Fine," you sighed while dropping the folded shirt in your hand back into the bin, "Just this once I will leave a mess behind for cuddles."
Natasha rolled her eyes as she set the snacks down and once again you let her guide you into the bed, but you had already brushed away the pillow fortress so you could remain upright.
Natasha knew what you were doing, but after she made sure you were both fed she was truly too tired to intervene. Just the same as when you felt apprehensive intervening earlier.
There'd been no open wounds so you didn't push her to go to the compound. You never did, Cho and Bruce are only two blocks away, they owed you for their love, so they agreed to always be on call for her—or better yet you, Natasha was none the wiser to your intentions.
Your current ones were to read your book with your back against the hard headboard, and your lovers arm draped over your bump. Just like you always did after her missions. You watched the bruises on her body, eyes trained in on the shading to see if they're healing well, to ensure that her breaths remained even all night, and to hold her steady if she were to jolt.
It was the only way you could find peace, and you sometimes wondered if maybe she did know, but didn't want you to know she knew because then she couldn't enjoy the way in which you cared for her so freely. You knew it was true in the way she smiled at you every morning when you awoke just like this. Upper back slouched with a slipped book in your hand, and a sleepy-time scowl on your face.
Natasha first mirrored your scowl as she felt the guilt swimming inside of her chest. The budding of tears constricted her throat, and trapped her sobs. You'd woken up just as she jolted, but you protected her opportunity for absolute vulnerability. The redhead has cried in front of you before, but only sparingly.
The first time was after she spent an ungodly amount of hours drowning in you, and couldn't fathom how she'd been blessed to have you for the first of what quickly became many times. Natasha had lightly sobbed against your chest and you soothed her until she'd fallen asleep.
The second time was when you actually agreed to marry her after only being hers officially for six months. It was after a rough mission, one that nearly took her from you, and led her to drop down on her knees in a desperate plead.
The following day came with a cynical Tony's jokes about a whirlwind love story, but Natasha's eyes said this decision wasn't made on a whim. When you kissed her in front of your peers only weeks later, and tasted the salt of her flowing tears you knew it to be true.
Then the last time was when she held your pregnancy test after a long day, it was a beacon of hope when she'd just felt like giving up. The months of trying had finally paid off, you were carrying her child thanks to science, and she couldn't hold back her gratitude. She'd dropped to her knees and kissed the skin of your stomach, and you felt the tears soak into your jeans as you weren't even showing yet.
Each time she cried since she would shield her face, and muffle her sobs with husky grunts. You'd never called her out on it, you respected her need to feel like she was always tough, even if she knew you'd never consider feeling weak.
Her pridefulness was her own to manage.
You envision your daughter's arrival will be the first time she doesn't try to hide it. Because for the first time in her life she'll have someone she is responsible for molding into a functional human. That responsibility comes with the need to model healthy ways of emoting for her little girl to be well adjusted, and safe overall.
She knows better than most that those who end up the most vulnerable are the ones who didn't have the access to proper love and care. With the kind of parents that yelled, and harshly reprimanded their kids in the name of love instead of taught better with a gentle hand.
Natasha would do everything in her power, you know it, to keep your daughter safe from the world and its cruelest that prey on the loveless.
Your daughter will be loved without question.
Once you were able to hear Natasha's sobs had died down you began to stir, the book in your hand officially hit the ground, and the redhead peered up at you with that endearing smile. Her chin rested on your bump, and you bit your lip in awe at her beauty, you reached out and brushed the hair from her face. "Mornin'"
"Good morning moya lyubov'," she chuckled softly as she watched your body shiver in response to her deepened voice from sleep. All these years together and she still had you a swooning mess with an effortless rasp. There was just something so precious to her about these early mornings with you, it was as if nothing in the world could touch you two.
"Did you sleep well?" Natasha hummed a yes, and softly kissed the underside of your swollen belly, then she grinned as she felt a shockingly powerful kick. "Dobroye utro, printsessa."
"Nat, stop it, you two are absolute menaces together," you groaned, every morning without fail she would get your daughter riled up, and you would face the painful repercussions. All because you happily allowed her DNA to live within you do you now deal with warrior kicks.
"It can't be that bad," she teased, prepared for your snarky comment, but you only sucked in a harsh breath as your hand rubbed at your neck.
Natasha frowned, she only let you watch over her at night because she knew it grounded your anxieties, but the guilt she felt only increased whenever she'd see you wince like that. This time she couldn't let it slide, not when you were already dealing with pregnancy pains.
"You have to stop sleeping like this detka," Natasha scolded you softly as she sat up and moved herself directly behind you. "I'm okay Nat, really, I can't sleep until I know you are."
You felt a surge of guilt as your admittance made her body tense behind yours, but then you smiled as her lips pressed against the knots in your neck before her thumbs took over. It was heavenly, and your groans assured her of the magical hold she possessed over your body.
"That's why I turned in my resignation." Now it was you who tensed, defeating the purpose of her current massaging of your strained body. "Relax detka, stress isn't good for you two."
"I don't want you to giving up what you love Nat," you turned to face her, pout prominent enough for her to kiss it away with a soft smile. "What I love is you Y/N, and soon enough our little bundle of love will be here as well. The fight will go on without my aging body, my life is here now, with you, that's where my joy is."
Natasha pulled you in for a gentle kiss before guiding your face into the crook of her neck so that you could cry your relief out in the comfort of her warm embrace. "Let it all out krasivaya."
"How did I get so lucky with you?" Natasha shook her head, and ran her fingertips down the side of your face as she negated your sentiments. "I'm the lucky one here detka, I never deserved your love Y/N, but you gave it to me anyways and now I'll be blessed to wake up to it everyday until we're old and grey."
"You are insane," you scoffed and playfully nudged her shoulder. "I will never go grey!"
Natasha chuckled, "Oh yeah, silly me..."
"You are very silly," you doubled down, "No one is more deserving of kindness than you Natasha Romanoff, you've been through hell and back and kept a hold of your humanity."
Natasha's eyes welled with tears you couldn't see, yet again, but it was because you were too busy tracing circles over her racing heart as you spoke the sweetest words to ever grace her ears. "You are the easiest person I've ever had the fortune to love and I promise to remind you of that—even when you're old and grey."
You heard a sniffle, and immediately pulled back to see the red flush on your lovers raised cheeks. Her smile was brighter than anything you'd ever seen so naturally you mirrored it.
"I love you so much," she practically squealed as she pulled you in for a kiss that remained sweet for mere seconds before she slipped her tongue into your mouth and deepened it.
"Fuck detka, I can feel your wetness coating my thigh," she groaned, but then it didn't stop so she pulled back to see your widened eyes.
Natasha sprung into action. "I'll get the bag!"
"I'll finish the laundry," you echoed after and the redhead stared at you in bewilderment. "Detka! You can't be serious right now?!"
"Natalia, I will not bring our daughter into a messy home!" You harshly glared at her, and she swiftly made her over way to you, praying for your cooperation. "I'll call Wanda, you know she'll be glad to help. If we're lucky we'll even come home to her famous apple strudel."
"You're the smartest person I know," you squealed and pecked the redheads lips, then you winced as a contraction hit. "I hate you."
——
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.
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pairing: coriolanus snow x toxic!fem!reader
summary: someone always throw a spanner in her works, to achieve her biggest dream —being coriolanus' lover, wife and claiming power. luckily, y/n is not on the loser side when it comes to playing.
trigger warnings: mastermind!reader, toxic!reader (for real, she's doing nasty things), reader's family is a bit fucked up, reader is obsessed with coriolanus snow, lying, swearing, blood, violence, killing people, hunger games stuff, i just love volumnia gaul, reader hates lucy gray and everybody who's around coriolanus, mental health problems mentioned such as psychotism.
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.
their peace was harassed. again. 
lying on her bed, y/n’s legs were flexing with the same rhythm as her heart beated and her brain ticked. 
that bitch. that dickhead. that fucking new rule.  
turning onto her back, y/n bruised her hands into her hair. too many things happened today, too fast and she couldn’t do anything. she couldn’t do anything to get closer to her first and only lover, coriolanus. it was the perfect plan she had made; going to the same places he went, organizing her whole life around him and gaining access into his heart. and after that? marriage, of course. and kids, and endless wealth that could be provided by her family and his position, because y/n didn’t accept anyone else as a husband than the president of panem. they could be the perfect couple, and her family almost gave the benediction to their marriage. 
only if this fucking day wouldn’t happen. 
today, in the school were coriolanus was studying –y/n was a private student, her family only trusted the teachers that educated the former younger members of the family like her older brother, who was now the leader of the first district–, a new rule was stated: students’ grades wasn’t the reason anymore for the plinth-prize, no. they needed to be a mentor for those poor losers who fought on the ruthless game named hunger games. y/n didn’t care about hunger games really much, but when her family was watching it on the tv in the salon, she sat down too, to watch how people’s true nature came out. while her family enjoyed watching it, they got her to take medicine since the doctor of the family stated her as a little bit mentally unstable. he said some symptoms like… lack of empathy, callous and manipulative? she was just like her grandma, astoria. it was nothing special. 
coriolanus got to be a mentor, and she got a girl from the twelfth district. it was not only the reason of her rage that that fuckhead casca took most of his chance away from winning the prize, and that he needed to work on this much more so they couldn’t be together, but… he got a girl. a girl named lucy gray. and lucy gray can watch herself if she does anything to woo coriolanus. 
y/n got to know him when they sat at the same time in the library; it was love at the first sight. she fell too deep, and from now on, she did everything to get close to him. if she was the universe, coriolanus was the sun; everything was for and about him. she made it known to him even, telling him that he has a big future, and that he needs to watch out because everybody’s going to hunt him down. but she’s gonna protect his safety, not significantly, because she knew how important pride was for men, even if she thought that it was sometimes hilarious. she’s gonna be the shadow around him, the shadow nobody can step over to get to him. y/n knew what’s good for him, and she made real intentions in the past too, from things like speaking with her father so he could soften up casca and give him that damn prize to the even action like being friends with his sister, tigris and his grandmother, the grandma’am. they were nice anyway, so she didn’t mind, same with the money she left in their house ‘accidentally’, or paying for oriolanus’ and hers dinner or snack or coffee when they were hanging out together. her father loved y/n endlessly, because she was just like his mother, her grandmother, but he couldn’t crawl under casca’s skin against the man’s will. while her whole family laughed at that damn girl, lucy gray, who sang and got knocked down on the ground, y/n knew that she was a potential danger. in that moment when she saw the way coriolanus looked at her, y/n decided that lucy gray, this or that way, had to go. there wasn’t any space for others in their love, and anyone that decided to harass it, was gonna pay the prize. 
turning on her stomach, she drew out her journal with shaky hands from anger, tearing up the page where she wrote down steps for the plan. she had another notebook for the doctor who read it monthly, and that notebook was full of ‘normal’ thoughts. but this, this journal… this contained everything that was her. and all of her love for corio, with pictures, letters they wrote to each other, little notes they changed through boring library afternoons, her plans for the wedding dress she’s gonna wear when they marry, and the names of the children they’re gonna have, not to mention the plan and the little footnotes she added to make it really, really perfect. scanning through the papers, she knew she hadn’t planned for this. how could you be so stupid? or was casca that dickhead, that fucker, he’s throwing a spanner in my works, but he’s gonna regret it. yeah, he’s gonna regret it, but not now. this was so perfectly worked out, it was truly a masterpiece, and now, some dickhead fucked it up completely. there were two things y/n didn’t like: people who stood between her and coriolanus, and people who thought they had the right to shit into her plan. 
throwing her journal away with a scream, her white, beautiful cat, persephone meowed loudly, jumping out from the way. looking into her direction, y/n called the cat closer to herself with bending her fingers. crawling into her arms, she rocked her like a real baby. 
“casca thinks he can stop us, sweetheart. but we gotta show him that we are clever, aren’t we, persy?” she asked, stroking the cat’s fluffy fur. persephone was y/n’s best friend; she never gave away her secrets, and always purred when the girl took her into her lap. “we can’t give up, no, sweetheart. we’re almost there, we can’t give up now, and we won’t, will we?” 
persephone meowed again, while y/n picked up the journal. grabbing a pen, thinking about the plan, what was wrong with it? was it not detailed enough? was it too straight? or… her cat accidentally tossed down a picture with her big tail, making y/n sigh. 
“you need to diet, persy.” muttering, when she lifted up the picture, it was her and coriolanus, her favorite picture. and in the background, there was sejanus, clemensia, arachne and many more of his classmates. in the background, blurred out, just as she liked… 
what do they have in common? 
they all had a relationship with corio. with her too, but… that can’t be all. what if the plan was wrong because she only focused on her lover? but it’s the point of it, to have a focus on him. suddenly, it hit her like a train her brother came last night with from the first district.  
she had to peel them down from coriolanus… one by one. it’s gonna be a little bit tiring and difficult, but y/n always loved challenges. and everything that could lead to coriolanus was worth fighting for –even if this fight was a little bit dirty. but her plans weren’t dirty, and she could never be dirty. she did it all for love, for their happiness. 
“you are a fucking genius, persy.” she muttered into the cat’s fur, making her meow again. 
before she could really write down the list of the people who could stand in their way, someone knocked on her door. 
“dear sister, could you come down for dinner?” it was her older sister, morphia. she was about to wed the mayor of the second district. y/n was gonna miss her, really, but not when she disturbed her mind while planning another masterpiece. 
“of course, i’m coming!” she opened the door. kissing the cat’s fur and putting her down to the bed so she could nap, noting in her mind that she needed to bring her food after dinner. morphia saw behind her back, on the bed her other notebook, the ‘normal’ notebook. 
“were you writing down your day?” morphia asked while walking beside her little sister on the hallway of the first floor of their home. they had a three floor house, the whole y/l/n dynasty lived together under one roof, including the husbands and wives who got married into the family. the wealth came from her sharp-minded grandfather, dmitri y/l/n, who had enough influence to get the control of the first and second district, getting ten percent of income from both districts for his own family after the war. he could do it because with his help, bombs were useful enough to stop rebellions. that way, the y/l/n house became rich between the richest, and they had enough respect so nobody doubted the wealth they had. did they get it dirty? yes. did they have guilt? of course not. 
“yeah, i was. so many things happened today. did you hear that corio has to attend the games like a mentor? he got a girl from the twelfth district, it’s so unfair, isn’t it?” she replied, walking beside the frescos of their deceased family members, facing the big windows shaded by heavy brocade curtains. the whole hallway covered with soft burgundy carpet, between the frescos, vases of beautiful roses stood on marble piles. everybody who took a walk in the y/l/n house, they could almost believe that war never happened. 
“you care so much about him, you’re gonna be the best wife. but still, please use your brain, sister. you are so clever, it would be a shame if our family wasted such a perfect mind between children and housekeeping.”
“i already submitted my papers to volumnia gaul. my grades and studies are great from biology and chemistry, maybe i can be one of her geneticists or scientists.” 
“it would be great. our family was never one of those who planned the games. father will be proud of you, just like me and everyone from the family.” morphia stroked her sister’s hair, going down the spiral stairs. the rain was softly falling, tapping on the windows. y/n’s smile was moderate; of course coriolanus was important, but her family was just as much. whatever, whenever, wherever you do, do it with pride. 
sitting through dinner, y/n formed the list in her mind, smiling and laughing when the others did, eating from the big plates. at night, she wrote down everything with persephone in her lap after her dinner too, a glass of wine beside the picture of coriolanus and a little, heart-shaped candle she got from him. 
the list. 
1.arachne crane. her family is part of the old guard of the wealthy from the capitol. they work in the travel industry, having developed luxury hotels in vacation destinations. she’ always very loud and always socking people. she’s not behaving like a noble, truly pathetic.  relationship with corio: they had grown up together, attending important events in each other's lives, as was natural for members of two families of money who lived close together, but did not really like each other. how to get rid of her: waiting. she got a girl from the tenth district, the tribute-mentor work will probably make her busy. at that time, i can speak on my behalf for coriolanus, maybe angering her towards me, to play victim. coriolanus doesn’t like her anyway. 
arachne was an easy prey. otherwise, the first rule of the plan was always to keep her hands clean. never, nobody could know that behind their downfall, there was y/n. 
2. clemensia dovecote  daughter of the energy secretary. she’s always up coriolanus’ ass, only because he’s the one who she can take advantage of. no original thoughts, only crawling up on everybody’s backs. really, really pathetic.  relationship with corio: only classmates. but a really annoying one.  how to get rid of her: she’s gonna fail herself either way, always wanting to be tricky, faith is gonna be her end. if not, talking with my father about her bad reputation, so her and her family’s gonna end up warned. 
y/n trusted her father enough to not to speak out loud that she was the one who intended on it. the y/l/n house always protected each other at all costs, and she wasn’t an exception. 
2. sejanus plinth // DANGER. only child of strabo and mrs. plinth, a wealthy couple from district 2. his father, strabo, made much of his wealth from munitions and weapon manufacturing. rich, has influence.  relationship with corio: his parents almost treat him as their own child. really, really dangerous.  how to get rid of him: …
y/n stopped while writing. sejanus liked her too, because he knew corio and she was almost a couple, but really… sejanus could stop him if he even said a word. it doesn’t work if she’s too kind, if sejanus himself doesn’t, his father will notice it, the bond is too tight and she didn’t want to suffocate in it. she needs to wait until something happens, and intervene when coriolanus is in doubt. 
“we have a lot of work before us, don’t we, persy?” she asked, leaning down to kiss her sleeping cat’s head. looking out the window, the rain fell continually, striking a bolt when she wrote down the fourth person. 
3. lucy gray braid // (?) family member of the nomadic group called ‘covey’, coriolanus’ contestant in the 10th hunger games. rumors say that she got into the games because she was messing around with another girl from the twelfth district.  relationship with corio: neutral. keep in mind if something happens. her actions may be out from surviving.  how to get rid of her: she has to win, so coriolanus can get the plinth-award. other than that, she’s gonna be taken back to twelfth district. keep in mind if something happens. 
lucy gray, lucy gray… you’re gonna be in big, big trouble if you take him away from me. you looked at him in the wrong way. 
y/n sighed, tossing her pen down. she needed to do some research for the coveys, whoever they were. it’s gonna be a long night, but her happy, perfect life with coriolanus will be even longer if she makes lucy gray gone. 
“songbirds can fly high enough to get away from snakes, you know that, persy? but even they can’t get away from a big storm.” y/n giggled, finding peace in the monstrous rumbling above them, heavy droplets banging on the window. sitting at her dressing table, she chose the lipstick she’s going to wear when coriolanus and she shares their first kiss. it was perfect. looking into the mirror, there was a strange glint in her eye, the one she always had only for herself. if she can’t get him one way, she will on the other. 
and anyway… her storm is gonna rock the whole panem. 
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blogwithlani · 1 year
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Hi can I request a Neteyam imagine where his female mate has been very busy hunting and training and hasn’t had much time to see him for a few weeks so he sneakily makes a hole in her marui to try to get her to sleep in his one as he knows that she gets cold easily and it works as one night she wakes up freezing and sneaks into his family’s marui moving his blanket so she can be under it cuddling in his arms which wakes him and he puts his face into her neck and wraps his arms around her tightly not wanting to let go as he misses her giving her soft kisses on her neck making her laugh quietly as to not wake up the rest of his family? Thanks 😊
Miss you
🫧 neteyam x reader
☁️ warning: nothing just fluff
🧷 — a/n: thank you for sending this req in the idea is so cute!! i love it <3
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You didn’t realise you were neglecting him. You had been so occupied with your duties that you barely spared it a second thought. Yes, you knew you had been hunting and training a lot more than you had promised you would— but Neteyam would understand. He has the same duties, the same pressure— even more so than you, but the only thing you couldn’t see was the amount of effort he was still putting in.
“Baby, just a few more minutes” He pleads, hand grasping onto yours as he gives you a look. He was desperate, this was the first time he’d seen you the whole day and you had spent only mere minutes with him.
“You know I can’t. Nete, I’m training with Ronal. You know how strict she can be” You reason, already pulling away from him until he finally lets go of your hand. You quickly peck him on the cheek, giving him a brief goodbye before you made your way to the marui pods.
Neteyam huffs in defeat as he watches you walk away from him, already missing the way you feel. He didn’t think he was the clingy type until recently when he realised how distant you had been. You didn’t have time to swim with him, braid his hair or even sleep in the same marui pod as him. You used to take random walks and hide out somewhere so the two of you could just spend time alone.
Over the past few weeks, Neteyam has made numerous attempts to try and get you to spend time with him longer— but as usual, training and hunting has been your main priority. It didn’t matter what he attempted, you were too stubborn. He’s finally had enough of it, he decides as he stands and makes his way to the pods.
“What’re you doing?” Lo’ak questions his older brother as he passes him, stopping briefly to question his brother who looks as if he’s on a mission. Which he was— it was just one that sounded stupid and desperate, he wanted to spare himself from being teased by his brother.
“Nothing important. Mind your business” Neteyam plays it off, ignoring the way his brother calls after him as he walks past him and makes a beeline to your marui pod.
He knew you were busy in your lessons with Ronal, so that would buy him a few hours. He wasn’t sure what drove him to this point, usually he would process such things rationally but he didn’t care at this point. This was childish and borderline psychotic, but he had run out of options. If you weren’t going to willingly stay with him, then he was going to force you to come to him. With that thought in his head, Neteyam got to work.
You returned to your home that night absolutely worn out from a day full of work. You had spent more hours than you intended with Ronal and you couldn’t wait to just lay in bed and sleep. You felt guilty for barely seeing Neteyam today but you would make it up to him tomorrow. Although you had finally pulled your blanket over you and your head had hit your pillow long ago— you couldn’t sleep.
Goosebumps were evident on your skin, your teeth chattering slightly as you tossed and turned— attempting to warm yourself up whilst tucking yourself further into the blanket. Despite your attempts, you were still shivering and freezing to death. The cold breeze from the ocean had no effect on you until now and you didn’t know what to do. You huff before standing, tightening the cloth around you before you quietly tiptoe out of your marui.
His was full of his sleeping family, you feel guilty for intruding them especially in the dead of night but you had no other solutions. You could’ve layered on a thousand blankets to warm you if you could, but you knew only Neteyam could help you. You quietly step into their marui, careful not to step on any of their tails and you make your way to Neteyam’s side.
He had been secretly waiting for your arrival, Neteyam figured his plan would succeed so he had spent majority of his night tossing and turning while waiting for you. He had started to lose hope— deciding that maybe you had managed to fall asleep anyway. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help himself and sleep got to the better of him.
“Nete” You whisper carefully, placing a hand on his shoulder as you gently shake him. When he doesn’t budge, you do it again— this time saying his full name. Yet again, nothing. So instead you take it upon yourself to step over him and pull his blanket back. You slip into the space beside him, sighing in relief when you throw the covers back over the two of you.
The warmth of his body felt so good radiating against yours, you couldn’t resist fully cuddling into him— your arms wrapping around his torso and your face pressing into his chest that rose gently as he breathed. You could finally rest, your eyelids feeling heavy as you eventually lull yourself to sleep.
Neteyam wakes barely an hour after you had crept into their marui and seeked refuge in his bed. He smiles to himself when he realises you’re pressed up against him, your face tucked into his shoulder and arms still wrapped around him as you slept. He craved this for so long and now he finally has it.
He presses soft kisses against your neck, sighing in relief at the feeling he loves most. He tries to be careful not to wake you as you shift slightly from the feeling of his lips on your skin, but he can’t stop himself. Which results in you eventually opening your eyes.
“You’re relentless” You laugh quietly as you pull back from him. He shushes you, glancing at his sleeping family right beside you before he presses his lips against yours. You feel him smile into the kiss-- causing you to do the same.
--
a/n: I hope I wrote what you wanted accurately <3
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taexual · 3 months
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sleepwalking ● 16 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers
warnings: fluff (if you squint really really hard), ANGST, strong language, explicit descriptions of violence & the process of cleaning wounds, mentions of loss of consciousness, SLOW BURN
words: 12.2k
read from the beginning ○ masterlist
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chapter 16 ► i’m still your favourite regret, you’re still my weapon of choosing
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The performance in Cologne the next day passed by in a blur. Jungkook refused to speak to anyone and only opened his mouth when it was absolutely necessary during the sound check—and even then, most of his vocabulary consisted of grunts or monosyllables.
He wouldn’t have called it sulking—he would have called it existential sorrow—but from the perspective of those around him, that was what this was.
He had dreamed of a happy ending with you. Now, he feared there would be no ending at all. He feared you’d leave and your goodbye would come in a letter. Or maybe just a farewell email.
“I had a wonderful time working with you and I wish you all the best for the future,” would be the last thing you’d write. The last thing you’d say.
You’d leave and he would never see you again.
Although he didn’t talk to you, Jungkook watched you a lot. The band had to do some interviews backstage before the Cologne show, and you were in the room with them, behind the camera. He counted, you only looked at him once.
After the concert, Jungkook took a long shower, but it could not drown his fears. When he returned to the hallway outside the dressing rooms, he saw that the post-show drinks were already finished and everyone had returned to the bus. He’d hoped that would happen. He needed a few more minutes alone.
He entered the changing room with a towel draped over his shoulders and quickly changed his shorts into sweatpants. Just as he pulled his hoodie over his head—somewhat laboriously, as his arms were still damp from the shower—he heard something vibrating against the leather couch in the room.
Confused, he pulled the hoodie on and walked over to the couch. He didn’t recognise the phone, but Taehyung was calling it, so chances were good that the device belonged to Luna. He made a mental note to bring it to her and placed it back on the couch while he packed the rest of his things.
He had just unzipped his bag when he heard the door open and turned his head. His expectant heart immediately jumped over several beats at the possibility that this was you.
But it was the furthest thing from you.
It was Sid.
Sid had many useless, irritating talents, but always finding Jungkook when he was alone, was his most impressive one.
Jungkook started to roll his eyes even before Sid spoke up, but that didn’t deter the older boy from entering the room.
“You’ve been ignoring us the whole day,” Sid said, closing the door behind him. “Well, I don’t care if you ignore everyone else. But you’ve been ignoring me, and I can’t allow that.”
Jungkook threw his jeans and shorts into the bag.
“That is so kind,” he said without looking up. “Did you miss me that much?”
“I did,” Sid said, and even without looking at him, Jungkook knew he had his usual psychotic grin on. Leaning against the dressing table, Sid added, “the clock’s tick-tick-ticking.”
“If you don’t leave me alone right now,” Jungkook retorted, unplugging his charger and packing it, too, “my foot is going to be kick-kick-kicking your ass.”
Sid merely snorted at the threat. “You’re very hostile, you know? It’s just a bet.”
Jungkook scoffed.
He remembered hoping that Sid would eventually forget about the bet if no one mentioned it. How very naive he had been. Sid would never forget. He was like a hateful elephant in this case—he had a flawless memory for anything that benefited him and was constantly at the centre of attention in any room he was in, making it impossible to escape his presence.
Jungkook couldn’t believe that he had once clung to the Katana so tightly that he didn’t even consider the possibility of losing the bet as soon as he made it. It seemed absurd now. What did he want to prove? Nothing made sense to him anymore.
“Is it? Really? Just a bet?” he rebutted, moving closer to Sid with each question. “Because when I told you I wanted to end it, you acted like we signed a fucking contract.”
Sid shrugged, his indifference as irritating as it was insincere.
“A bet’s still a bet,” he replied. “You’ve got to keep your word.”
Rolling his eyes, Jungkook turned around and grabbed his hairdryer from the table. They had already argued about this before. He didn’t have the energy to keep doing it, and he still had things to pack.
“Get fucked, Sid.”
“Come on,” Sid said, clearly expecting a more grandiose response from him. “You keep saying that. But I’m willing to talk to you here. Tell me what happened.”
Jungkook glared at him through his peripherals. “What the fuck do you mean, what happened?”
“Well, you were acting so bold and confident before,” Sid said in a breathy voice, presumably to imitate Jungkook’s manner of speaking. “You were sure you’d get back together, no problem.”
“No,” Jungkook countered, straightening up. “I was sure we could go on a date, no problem. That was the extent of the bet for me.”
It was bad enough, he knew. But he couldn’t move forward if he didn’t own up to it.
“Aww.” Sid tilted his head sideways and pursed his lips to feign sympathy. “But you couldn’t even do that...”
“I fucking—okay,” Jungkook stopped when he felt his agitation grow. There was a voice in his head—very similar to yours—reminding him that Sid wasn’t worth it. “Get out. I’m serious.”
“Was that all talk?” Sid continued as if the younger boy hadn’t spoken. “Admit it, and maybe we’ll come to a different agreement about the bet.”
“Get,” Jungkook said, gritting his teeth, “out.”
Sid clicked his tongue, but the pleasure that this interaction brought him was prominent in his eyes. Antagonising Jungkook was his favourite part of the day.
“Predictable,” he said. “It seems I overestimated you, after all.”
“What the fuck are you on about now?”
“Well, you know,” Sid continued to spin his webs around Jungkook. “You and your manager. I thought you’d win the bet for sure.”
Raising an eyebrow, Jungkook asked, “yet you still agreed to it?”
Sid’s eye twitched slightly—Jungkook felt a great sense of satisfaction at the sight; it wasn’t often that Sid was forced to question his own logic, however momentarily—but he recovered too quickly.
“I like to gamble.” He shrugged. “What can I say?”
“You can shut up,” Jungkook suggested.
“However, you didn’t manage to do it,” Sid went on. “And I have to say, I am genuinely surprised. Not about you, no. I always knew you were pathetically in love with her, that’s just who you are. No offence, just the truth, really. But she’s just—I mean, come on.” He paused to laugh, one hand on his stomach as if he found himself so amusing that he needed to keep his guts from spilling out. “You fluttered your eyelashes at her once, and she went to Paris with you. She’s that fucking easy.”
Jungkook felt the room still as he lifted his gaze from Sid’s stomach to his eyes.
“What?” he asked.
“Oh, you know what I mean.” Sid’s grin was about as wide as the distance from this venue to the nearest hospital, where Jungkook thought he was about to send him.
Sid pushed himself off the table he’d been leaning against and walked over to the rack of clothes next to the couch. Jungkook watched him, stiff and belligerent.
“I thought she was keeping you on a short leash. And don’t blame me. I mean, you always ran after her as soon as she called,” the older boy continued, laughing with a little shake of his head—as if in disbelief. He turned and leisurely strolled back towards Jungkook. “But she—I mean, I get the feeling she doesn’t like me very much, but even I could have taken her out if I wanted to. Honestly, man, I’m surprised you couldn’t do it. She’s that specific type—you know the one—where she’ll say yes to anyone if they just put in enough effort—”
Jungkook’s punch landed right on the side of Sid’s mouth, cutting him off.
Something in Sid’s neck cracked as the blunt force twisted his head to the side. The corner of his mouth was bleeding, but he still had an almost defiant look in his eyes when he turned back to Jungkook. The tips of his fingers were painted scarlet when he pulled them back from his lips.
“I fucking warned you,” Jungkook growled while Sid continued to stare at his hand. “Get your ass out of here right fucking now or I swear they’ll have to carry you out of here in a fucking box.”
Sid spat the blood from his mouth on the floor and glared at Jungkook.
“That the best you can do?” he challenged. “Huh? Maybe that’s why you couldn’t even get someone like her to—”
Jungkook raised his fist again, but Sid had already been anticipating it. He pushed Jungkook’s hand back with his forearm, knocking the younger boy off balance for a moment—it was then that he landed a punch on Jungkook’s left cheekbone.
A sharp pain surged through the side of his face, but Jungkook was wide awake and furious.
In less than a second, he noticed Sid swinging back again—Sid had always been strong but slow—and Jungkook blocked his blow with his left wrist and rammed his shoulder into Sid’s chest, pushing him into the wall and wrapping an arm around him. The older boy thrashed and squirmed with raging strength until he freed one of his hands.
Jungkook tried to pin Sid’s left arm against the wall—he was left-handed if barely even that—but, being the massive pile of unbelievably lucky crap that he was, Sid managed to use his right fist to reach the boy restraining him.
Sid’s unexpected southpaw caught Jungkook just as he was lowering his head to avoid the blow from the older boy’s dominant hand—and his right fist connected with the side of Jungkook’s head, between his eye and temple.
“You’re f-fucking embarrassing,” Sid snarled, bloodied and breathless, as Jungkook staggered backwards, dazed from the blow. “Weak fucking piece of sh-shit. Birds of fucking feather, you two—both fucking worthless and—”
Sid inhaled quickly before finishing his sentence—but then he ended up not even finishing his breath.
Aggravated and filled with raw adrenaline, Jungkook delivered a furious uppercut, his fist colliding solidly with Sid’s chin. The older boy was propelled backwards by the force—Jungkook heard the thud as his head hit the wall.
Already groaning, Sid was determined to fight back—never mind that the room was spinning—but Jungkook took advantage of the moment while Sid’s vision was still cloudy and pinned him against the wall with his full weight.
“I thought I told you to shut the fuck up,” he hissed, pressing his forearm against Sid’s neck.
Choking, Sid immediately grabbed Jungkook’s arm to push him off, but Jungkook had a clear strength and fury advantage. He did not budge as the older boy resisted him.
Sid knew this wasn’t a good look for him—he could feel that if Jungkook pushed his forearm into his neck any harder, he’d lift him off the ground. Unable to breathe, the older boy paled, but his eyes were black with rage.
“Face the fff-fuh-fucking facts. You’re weak,” Sid wheezed, livid. There was blood in his mouth and something else that rolled around his tongue when he spoke. “And she’s a f-fucking—”
“One more fucking word,” Jungkook warned, pressing his arm harder into Sid’s throat—the other boy couldn’t even look at him anymore, his head was pushed too far back, “and you’ll have to be fucking dissected to find out what the fuck happened to you.”
Sid gasped for breath but refused to stop speaking. “I—unf—f-fucking—”
“What the fuck—” a shrill, startled voice demanded from behind the two boys, “—is going on?!”
Jungkook jumped—Sid felt his arm shove deeper into his throat and let out a half-stifled cry—and turned to see Luna standing wide-eyed in the doorway of the changing room.
He tore himself away from Sid, who dropped his hands to his knees, panting and clutching his throat before straightening again as though nothing was wrong. But his attempt to inhale properly resulted in another violent coughing fit. He bent over to spit out some blood and something else.
The two boys watched as a tooth rolled into the revolting mixture of spit and blood on the floor. Sid looked appalled as he reached for his mouth again, almost prepared to count all his teeth to check if he’d really lost one or if spare teeth were just something he carried around in his mouth without realising.
“Do I have to ask again?!” Luna cried, too shocked to make sense of what she had the unfortunate luck of interrupting.
“It’s okay, Luna,” Jungkook said, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “Sid was just leaving.”
Sid glared at him, coughed again, and leaned in closer.
“All bark,” he hissed hoarsely. Jungkook could see the small gap next to Sid’s lower canine when he opened his mouth. “No bite.”
“Get fucked,” Jungkook said. “And pack your shit. Don’t come anywhere near me again or you’ll be eating through a fucking straw.”
He watched as Sid narrowed his eyes, fighting a battle within himself. Jungkook’s jaw was clenched, his fists ready to strike if he made another comment or exhibited any signs of even thinking about you.
Finally, Sid turned around and stormed out of the room. As soon as he walked down the corridor without so much as a glance at Luna, she went inside.
Still completely bewildered, she stopped abruptly in the middle of the room. The pool of blood was between her and Jungkook, and they both looked at it for a moment.
“What—” she began, then paused to suppress her disgust as she lifted her gaze from the floor to Jungkook. “What the hell happened here?”
He walked over to one of the cupboards by the window, searching for towels. He needed to clean this up or the venue would report the damages to you.
“Nothing,” he replied.
“You’re bleeding,” Luna said, stepping closer. Jungkook froze as she took one of the towels from him and reached up to his temple. “You’re bleeding so much, in fact, that you might need stitches.”
He shook his head—and then received a punch in the ribs from her. He yelped in surprise and learnt to stand still while she wiped the blood off.
“It’s fine,” he insisted. His temple throbbed with pain, but it still couldn’t compare to the sharp-edged emptiness that he’d felt all day.
“It’s not fine,” Luna said, pulling away. The towel was soaked with blood. Jungkook had to admit that he was surprised he was bleeding so much. Despite the sharpness of Sid’s fists, he had assumed that he’d been merely scratched. “Let me find—”
“No!” His eyes were wide in sudden panic. “Don’t—don’t bring her here. Actually, don’t tell her about the mess here at all. Please?”
Luna watched him for a moment, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion (was he serious?) and eyes bright with pity (what a shame to be so stupid).
“Jungkook,” she said patiently. “You’re going to have bruises all over your face. Probably even a black eye.”
He exhaled and looked down.
He knew he couldn’t keep this from you, but involving you now was the worst possible thing he could do. He was supposed to make things right.
“I know,” he said slowly, “but—I’m… I don’t want this to be another one of my messes that she has to clean up. That would definitely make her give up and go to Reconnaissance.”
Luna lowered her gaze, taking a moment to process the fact that Jungkook knew about the other band, but instead of the hysterics that everyone would have expected from him, he’d been rather composed all day today. Until he got into a fight with Sid, of course.
She tossed the towel onto the puddle of blood on the floor. She had no intention of cleaning it up herself, but she couldn’t stand to look at it.
“Well, have you considered not getting into this mess in the first place?” she asked then.
“Believe it or not, he started it,” Jungkook mumbled as he gathered more towels from the cupboard.
“Does that even matter now?”
Luna had to step back as he bent down to mop the floor. Some blood had already seeped into the wooden floorboards, but Jungkook scrubbed over the stain with the towel anyway.
“No,” he said, concentrating his irritation on the repetitive motions as he wiped the floor. “I guess not.”
“At least let me get some band-aids for you.” She looked around the room. There didn’t seem to be any first-aid kits here, but she had a few band-aids in her bag that she’d left in the waiting area outside. “Although I don’t know if that’s even enough.”
“It is enough,” Jungkook said. “I’m fine. He barely—barely touched me.”
Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Luna turned to the door, muttering under her breath, “fucking boys.”
Jungkook couldn’t help a small smile.
“I heard that!” he shouted.
“I wanted you to!” she shouted back without turning around.
He chuckled, then winced at the sharp twinge in his temple. The adrenaline must have worn off, or the pain was getting stronger. He stopped scrubbing the floors, hoping to leave a message for the organisers and personally apologise for the mess later.
Then he crossed his legs on the ground and leaned his head against the wall. For just one second, he closed his eyes and rested.
He made a decision while he did.
He resolved to make sure that Sid wouldn’t come anywhere near him, Rated Riot, or you.
He finally realised that he had friends here—real friends. They had been here all along, the people who loved him. Hoseok, who took care of him when he was hungover. Yoongi, who tried to find help when he thought Jungkook was feeling a little too much. Taehyung, who didn’t leave even after Jungkook admitted how much he’d fucked up. And Luna, who looked about ready to physically beat some sense into him, but still stayed to help him with his wounds. Namjoon, Jimin, Seokjin, and Maggie, too—honestly, the entire team who laughed at his jokes, teased him and always supported him.
Although he was still worried about being alone with his thoughts, Jungkook knew he didn’t need Sid to fill the void. Now he wondered if Sid had always been the void he was trying to escape.
He was determined to prevent history from repeating itself. These people that he’d desperately wanted to call friends had already contributed significantly to your break-up once before, without him realising it.
Well, now he realised it. And he was going to fix it—all of it.
He could start by eliminating the reason why he kept making the same mistakes.
A minute later, Luna returned to the room. The sight of Jungkook sitting on the floor with his eyes closed made her look twice as she felt her heart drop in sudden anxiety.
She thought about turning around and looking for you, because you had a lot more patience to deal with this than she thought she did. But then, she knew that another argument was the last thing you or Jungkook needed right now.
She took a deep breath and approached him.
“Here,” she said as she grabbed another towel and squatted down next to him with the few band-aids that, frankly, seemed meagre when she saw the cuts and bruises on his face up close. “Let me help you.”
Jungkook had only briefly opened his eyes to look at her and then closed them again.
“Thank you,” he said as she wiped more blood from the side of his face before applying the band-aid. She didn’t mean to be gentle. She wanted him to understand how much he’d messed up. But her movements ended up being tentative and careful anyway.
“Don’t thank me,” she said, biting her lip as the blood immediately seeped through the band-aids. They would not hold; they both knew that. She sighed and pulled away from him. “She will see this. You will have to argue with her again. I can’t help you with that.”
He nodded his head once. “I know.”
Luna rose and walked over to the back of the room, considering this. She leaned her hip against the table and looked back at him.
“I don’t, um—okay. For what it’s worth,” she said, resting her hands on the table on either side of her. “I don’t think she’ll quit. Not even over this.”
“You really believe that?” Jungkook asked, opening his eyes. The hope in them was so bright that it was almost blinding.
Luna nodded. “She loves the band too much. Not even you can change that.”
He looked down. That would have to be good enough, he decided—just the fact that you would stay, even if it wasn’t for him. Even if it was despite him.
“I-I hope you’re right,” he said quietly.
“Okay, so now—” Luna jumped onto the table to take a seat, “—tell me what happened with Sid.”
Ordinarily, this would have been a long story. But Jungkook knew Taehyung might have made telling it a bit easier for him.
“Taehyung said you know about the bet?” he asked to be sure.
“Yeah. He told me back in Tilburg after he saw you leave with her to talk. Or, well, he assumed you would talk,” Luna explained. “In any case, you should be grateful that I know my strengths. Otherwise, I’d be punching you, too.”
Considering how much smaller than him Luna was, Jungkook smiled reflexively.
“I appreciate you not doing that,” he said with genuine respect.
“I’ve mentally kicked your ass, though.”
“Well, I deserve that, I guess.”
“So, this was about the bet, then?”
Jungkook sighed. He hadn’t technically allowed Sid to say any additional adjectives after he’d called you “easy,” but even this was too much. Jungkook wasn’t sure if he could talk about it without wanting to rip Sid’s eyes out and feed them to him.
“He was… just riling me up. He said some—some things,” he said, choosing a gentler word, even though several more appropriate expletives came to mind. “And he took it too far. Trust me, he deserved to get hit.”
“Oh, I trust you,” Luna said. “I just don’t think you should have been the one to hit him.”
Jungkook swallowed, feeling a metallic taste in his mouth. It didn’t bother him much. He’d tasted worse in the past few days.
“If I didn’t do it,” he said, “no one else would have.”
“Why are you so sure about that?” Luna asked, her voice less confident.
Most of what she knew about Jungkook and Sid came from questionable fan accounts she’d seen online—the stories she read were almost always outrageous, but now that she’d gotten to know Sid on this tour, she found those accounts much more plausible. Surely then, if Sid was this loathsome to everyone, someone was bound to deck him sooner or later.
“Everyone else is afraid of him,” Jungkook replied.
“And you’re not?” she asked.
The question felt mocking—even though it didn’t sound like that was Luna’s intention.
He thumped his head against the wall. “I don’t know anything anymore.”
The room was silent for a few minutes as Jungkook sat motionless, and Luna’s gaze kept wandering to the pile of towels on the bloodstained floor and then back to his resigned figure against the wall.
“Can I ask you something?” she said then.
His voice was tired. “Yeah.”
“Why did you make this bet in the first place?”
He inhaled, and a sharp, stabbing pain shot up from his lungs to his throat. It probably wasn’t a good sign, but he did not have the energy to worry about it at the moment.
He scratched the uninjured side of his face with his hand—his knuckles bruised and torn—and let his fingers linger there. It was a reflexive reaction, Luna observed, as he tried to hide from her. Or, rather, from her question.
“I don’t know,” he finally said. “Sid and Jude were getting in my head about how I was like some—I don’t know, pathetic. They made me feel like I was less of a person because I still had feelings for her.”
“Less of a person,” Luna said, “or less of an asshole that they seem to be trying—and succeeding—to be?”
Jungkook sighed, allowing the pins and needles to settle in his oesophagus. He wanted to say something but swallowed the answer with the bitter taste in his mouth.
“So, you made the bet to prove them wrong?” she asked in response to his silence.
“I—I don’t know,” he said again. He sometimes felt like he was a different person when he was with his friends. And now that he was determined to never see Sid again—but the repercussions of their friendship were still evident—Jungkook didn’t know who he really was anymore. “I think, at first, I agreed to the bet to prove a point.”
Luna raised her eyebrows. “But there was another reason?”
“Yeah, I think that… there was something else,” he said with a slow nod. “I realised later that I might have agreed to the bet because I wanted to win it. Not—not for the money, and not just to prove that I wasn’t pathetic. I just really—I wanted to go on that date with her. I wanted her. And the bet was—it was a kick in my ass to finally act on my feelings.”
Luna’s eyebrows suddenly dropped in disappointment and she turned away to hide her expression, even though Jungkook was too weary to lift his head and look up.
“There were better ways to act on them, you know,” she said. “Less painful ways, too.”
“Oh, I know,” he said with a wry smile. “Unfortunately, I’m fucked up.”
“You… you’re not fucked up,” she said, although to be honest, after learning about the bet, she thought he might be. But now that she saw how much his choices tormented him, she realised that he wasn’t all black and white. He was very, very grey. “You just did a fucked-up thing.”
Jungkook snickered weakly. “That’s nice of you to say. But I was always… I’d always been a problem.”
“Because of your friends?”
“Yeah—well, mostly, yeah. B-but she—” he paused here as another jolt of pain shot through his chest at the mention of you. He filled his lungs completely with another sharp intake of breath, then tried again. “She still—she still loved me. You know? I used to look at my friends and think I had nothing compared to them. But then I met her, and I—I had everything. I didn’t deserve her, but I—she was with me. She wanted to be with me. And she was the one good thing in my life. And I took that for granted. And now that I—now that we… anyway. I blew it. Now I really have nothing. Serves me right, I know. I just wish she wasn’t—I wish I hadn’t hurt her.”
Luna closed her eyes and sighed in response to the endless additions that Jungkook could not seem to control as he spoke.
She felt a little upset, she couldn’t help it. But she also felt a little giddy. She’d never heard Jungkook say these things about you, but she’d suspected that was how he felt all along.
However, she wasn’t one to make empty promises, especially when those promises were not within her control, so she could not say things like ‘you two will be fine’ or ‘you didn’t blow it.’
Honestly, she couldn’t find an appropriate response no matter how much she tried, so for a good minute, the two of them sat in silence.
Then, Jungkook finally raised his eyes from the ground. “Why’d you come here, by the way? I thought everyone was on the bus.”
Luna blinked, remembering suddenly.
“I left my phone here after the show,” she said, instinctively checking her pockets to make sure she really did not have it.
“Oh.” He pointed to the opposite side of the room. “I think I heard it vibrate. On the couch.”
“Ah.” She pushed herself off the table. “Thanks.”
He watched through his eyelashes as she picked up her phone. One of his eyelids was dropping and he was afraid to blink.
When Luna glanced at the screen—and probably saw the missed call from Taehyung—Jungkook said, “you should go.”
She turned around and took in the scene in the room once more.
It was miserable here. Jungkook looked miserable.
“I’m sorry I can’t say anything encouraging,” she said, biting her lip. “She’s my friend. And you’ve done a—well, this isn’t good.”
Jungkook nodded and swallowed, but it didn’t soothe his dry throat. “I know.”
“I’d like to help, but I—I’m always going to be on her side.”
“Of course. I understand.”
Luna sighed, because he had claimed he understood, but still looked as if happiness was a concept he’d never experienced in his life.
“I just—I don’t know what to tell you before I go,” she admitted. She knew she didn’t owe him anything, but leaving him here in this state didn’t feel right, either. She had always been compassionate, but the intensity of it surprised her this time. “I don’t know what she’ll do. A-about you, I mean. Not about Reconnaissance.”
Jungkook considered this. The side of his head felt torn and cracked. The poor band-aids were already dark red.
“What would you do?” he asked.
Luna raised her eyebrows at the abrupt question. “Me?”
“If you were her,” Jungkook explained. “Or if I were Taehyung.”
She licked her lips, taking a moment to choose her next words.
“Jungkook,” she said. “No offence, but Taehyung would never do something so stupid.”
A defeated, humourless smile appeared on his lips. “Yeah. You’re right. He wouldn’t.”
As soon as the tiniest glimmer of hope in his eyes dimmed, his voice sounded as if it was coming from somewhere underground.
God, Luna thought. Now the room was even more dreary.
Even though she was going to support whatever decision you would make about this, she couldn’t just leave without saying anything to him. Having no one on his side while he tried to redeem himself was unfair.
Advice, she figured, had to be the best thing she could offer him right now.
“Listen,” she said with a determined inhale. “I can’t judge what I would do if I were her because I don’t share her memories. I don’t know what happened between you all those years ago. Or even what’s happening now. But… if I were you, I’d give her some time.”
Jungkook nodded, looking at her with what he hoped was a grateful smile.
“Interestingly enough, that’s what your boyfriend told me,” he said.
“Yeah? Well, he gives great advice.”
The corners of his lips stretched further. “Matching set, you two.”
Luna slid her phone into her pocket and grabbed her bag, zipping up the pocket where she had kept the band-aids.
“Just be careful, okay?” she said. “We’re leaving for the airport soon, so don’t stay here too long. Don’t make her look for you. I’ll, um—I’ll try to do damage control.”
“Okay. Thank—”
Before Jungkook could finish, the door of the changing room opened wider, diverting their attention.
They both turned to look with very different expressions on their faces—Luna was already scowling, thinking that Sid had come back. Jungkook, on the other hand, appeared absolutely terrified, thinking that it was you, about to witness him sitting on the bloody floor—literally—with band-aids on his face.
“Oh,” a gasp left Minjun’s lips as he stopped in the doorway. “Sorry, I was—”
“It’s fine,” Jungkook said, immensely relieved. “You can come in.”
“Hold on,” Luna warned. Minjun remained frozen under her gaze. “Will I have to intervene? Because I think we’ve spilt enough blood already.”
Minjun raised his eyebrows. “Whose blood?”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jungkook said to the girl. “Thank you, Luna.”
She watched the two of them for another minute until Jungkook nodded reassuringly again. Hesitantly, she nodded back and gave Minjun a pointed look.
“Okay. But you watch your hands,” she warned. “He has to be on stage tomorrow.”
“I—I mean no harm.” Minjun raised both hands, taken aback by her hostility. “I don’t know what happened here, but I’m—I come in peace.”
“Good,” Luna said with a firm nod. She glanced back over her shoulder at Jungkook. “I’ll see you later. Put some ice on your eye when you get back on the bus. It won’t do much for the colour, but it might help with the swelling.”
“Will do,” he said and called out as she exited the room, “thank you again!”
After Luna had left, Minjun entered the room and closed the door behind him. Only then he noticed the bloody towels and the dirty floor. Squinting, he leant forward a little and detected something else between the towels.
“So,” he said, straightening. “What the fuck happened and whose tooth is that on the floor?”
Jungkook snorted. “Sid’s.”
Minjun’s face lit up with childlike glee. “No fucking way! Did you do it?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook said with a grin that made him look vaguely menacing, considering how bruised and battered his face was.
“Awesome, man,” Minjun said, coming closer to pat him on the back before squatting next to him.
“He deserved it.”
“I don’t even care, to be honest. I’m impressed.”
“Yeah. Well.” Jungkook lifted a hand to gesture at his own face. “He’s landed some good ones, too.”
Minjun observed his bruises and the bloody band-aids that seemed quite small for a normal cut, but remained remarkably resilient on his fresh wounds.
“You’ll live,” he concluded.
Jungkook turned to him. A little awkwardly, he asked, “why, um… why are you here?”
“Ah.” Minjun reached into his pocket for something. “Here.”
Jungkook immediately recognised the keys to his Katana in his friend’s palm.
Speechless for a minute, he just stared at Minjun’s hand without moving. He had a feeling—against his better judgement—that this was a trap. That by taking the keys, he’d sign something else to the devil.
“What—?” he tried to ask.
“Take it,” Minjun urged, wishing to relieve himself of the unwanted weight of the keys in his hand.
“But the bet—”
“Fuck the bet,” he said, waving his palm up and down when Jungkook still didn’t reach for it. “It went too far.”
“Sid,” Jungkook began, hesitation and doubt evident in every centimetre of his face, “didn’t agree to this.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure Sid’s mother didn’t agree to give birth to a fucking clown, but shit happens,” Minjun countered. “Take the damn keys.”
Jungkook finally extended his shaking hand and felt the familiar cold metal under his fingertips. He paused before pulling back with the keys.
The Katana was his. But instead of relief, he felt a new weight in his chest.
“Why?” he asked, looking down at the key ring, adorned with a gaudy, jewelled pendant with the initials “JK.” It was a trinket you had bought him during a drunken escapade at a local fair. He still remembered your delighted squeal when you spotted the two letters in one of the jewellery stands.
“Because this is stupid and pointless,” Minjun said. His legs had gone numb, so he mirrored Jungkook’s position and sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. “Some fucking bet is not worth ruining your relationship over.”
With a small smile on his face—because they were two miserable losers, hanging out on the floor of his band’s changing room—Jungkook clutched the keys and pushed them into his own pocket.
“Thank you,” he said.
“I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier,” Minjun said. “I was afraid, I guess. Of what Sid would do if I went against his wishes. But then I… came to pick you up from that hotel bar in Tilburg—”
“That was you?” Jungkook cut him off. He had been wondering how he ended up back on the tour bus.
“Yeah,” Minjun replied. “You called me and asked to take the bike back to the rental shop because you couldn’t do it anymore. Man, I swear, I thought you were on some bridge, the way you phrased it.”
Jungkook looked away. He was not in a good place when he called his friend, and alcohol must have exaggerated it. “Sorry.”
“You still looked worse than I expected when I got there,” Minjun continued. “I thought I might have to take you to a hospital to have your stomach pumped, and I don’t fucking speak Dutch. Nor did I know where a fucking hospital was in Tilburg.”
Jungkook laughed at his rising tone, and Minjun smiled, too.
The smile turned ironic, however, when he added, “you threw up on my shoes.”
Jungkook, who never got drunk enough to experience a hangover the next day, let alone throw up, raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“I don’t remember that,” he said, meaning that it didn’t happen.
Minjun ignored the dismissive tone in his voice—he had a ruined pair of Converse to prove his accusation.
“Lucky you then,” he retorted. “You regained some colour after that, though. But you wouldn’t stop talking about her. It was like—like you couldn’t understand anything of what was happening, but you could still remember her. It hit me then, how little the bet really mattered. I mean, I always thought it was stupid, but that night, I—I saw what you were feeling. You regretted everything. I wanted to give you the keys right then, but you looked like you couldn’t recognise yourself in the mirror, so I just dropped you off on the bus. One of your—Hoseok was awake. He thanked me.”
Jungkook needed a minute to reflect on the conversation he’d had with Hoseok later that same morning.
“He didn’t tell me,” he said.
Minjun shrugged. “He had nothing to thank me for, anyway. I’m your friend. Sorry I didn’t act like it before.”
This was the first time that one of his friends had apologised to him, and Jungkook recognised the significance of the moment. He realised with blinding clarity that out of the three people he had invited as his personal guests on this tour, there was only one he truly wanted to stay here.
“Yeah,” Jungkook said, a little overwhelmed. “I’m—thanks for doing this now.”
Minjun nodded and the two of them shared a moment of comfortable silence. But Jungkook couldn’t quiet his thoughts—Sid wasn’t here, but he still couldn’t shake his presence.
“There was something that Sid said to me today,” he spoke up. “I-I think he likes her.”
“What?” Minjun was surprised. He glanced back at the tooth on the floor in front of him. “What’d he say?”
“He—just some shit.” Jungkook looked down and pulled on a loose thread on his sweatpants. “About how he could have convinced her to date him.”
Minjun blinked in another wave of surprise. He had a very different understanding of what Sid felt for you and Jungkook, but now he was confused.
“He’s just trying to get under your skin,” he tried to rationalise.
“No, but think about it,” Jungkook said. “Why else would he go to such great lengths to persuade me to participate in this bet? To force me to continue it after I’d clearly won?”
Again, Minjun needed a minute to find a response.
Jungkook clicked his tongue and looked away. “See, you can’t disagree.”
“I mean…” Minjun bit the corner of his lower lip. “I guess it makes sense, but—”
“I know that she wouldn’t consider him in a million years,” Jungkook added. “I’m not even thinking about that, I’m just… wow. How fucking stupid. He ruined this for himself and for me.”
His friend sighed. He didn’t want to keep talking about this. “Yeah.”
“And I let him,” Jungkook finished.
“Yeah,” Minjun repeated. “He deserved getting his tooth knocked out. And you deserve the swollen eye.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows and puckered his lips. He wasn’t going to disagree, and Minjun smiled in relief when he saw the humour in his friend’s eyes.
This had to happen, Minjun thought. Jungkook wouldn’t have been able to move on if he had not found another way to prove that his own self—and his relationship with you—was the one thing he would never lose, no matter how hard Sid tried.
“What, um,” Jungkook asked after a minute, “what are you going to do when Sid asks about the keys after the bet is over?”
Minjun, feeling much more relaxed, merely shrugged. “Knock another one of his teeth out?”
Jungkook laughed and smacked his friend on the shoulder, despite the pain in his head when he moved.
“Oh, come on,” Minjun said, grinning. “He still has, like, fifteen left.”
“I’m sure he has more left. Implants or not.”
“Now, see, implants are harder to knock out. We’d have to meet and discuss the logistics of that. Perhaps attack in secret.”
Jungkook laughed again, and Minjun joined in, too.
They both felt significantly better.
However, Jungkook still had a lot of things to take care of as soon as he got up from the floor.
He should have told you about the bet earlier, but he hadn’t. All he could do now was make amends for a lapse in judgement with terrible consequences.
No.
There would be no consequences. He would make sure to never hurt you again.
And he’d begin by following through with his plan.
Jungkook asked Minjun to give him some time alone and found his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants. He dialled Seokjin’s number, and Seokjin referred him to the Head of Security on tour, Mick.
Mick was lovely. He fostered pets and looked after injured animals in his cabin on the edge of the forest, where he lived with his three dogs. Jungkook had visited him once and felt very much like he imagined Harry Potter to feel when he saw Hagrid’s hut for the first time.
Mick was also three times larger than Jungkook. His primary responsibility on tour was preventing intoxicated individuals from climbing onto the stage and ensuring trespassers did not decide to have an excursion on the band’s tour bus.
Now, Jungkook decided as he spelled Sid’s name to Mick over the phone, Mick was going to make sure that Isidore Hamlet Mercer-Hastings—a name that likely had Shakespeare himself rolling in his grave—could not enter any venue where Rated Riot was scheduled to perform.
It wasn’t quite as dramatic as a restraining order, Jungkook supposed. But blacklisting Sid from his gigs seemed like a good start.
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Half an hour later, Jungkook had barricaded himself behind the curtains in his bunk. He was fully awake but he didn’t want you to see what he looked like.
Naturally, you had assumed he was sleeping and had no reason to talk to him anyway, so you kept yourself busy with an e-book in your bunk as the bus made its way to the airport.
Then, most unfortunately, your relative peace was disturbed when you received a text message from Nick Zhou. It was as if he could sense the terrible turmoil in your mind and your heart, and he wanted to add more fuel to the fire.
Things like that happened sometimes, you thought. Coincidences—unless you decided to treat them as signs.
Nick had sent you a picture of the perfectly green palm trees visible through a window. You zoomed in and assumed that he had taken the picture somewhere in Australia, where Reconnaissance were currently on tour.
In the text below, Nick said, “new album in progress. Would be nice to have you with us when we put it out!”
Anxious suddenly, you considered putting your phone away and just carrying on with your e-book. But your uncertainty was relentless—maybe if you replied to him, you’d gain a clearer understanding of what you should do.
You typed back, “hope you’re having fun! I’m still thinking about it.”
Then you exhaled and tossed your phone to the farthest corner of your bunk so as not to be bothered in case it vibrated again. Texting him back didn’t work. You felt just as tense as before.
You exhaled and attempted to keep reading, but silence was simply not meant for you today.
With the flight to Manchester only five hours away, Luna decided it was a good time to discuss with you what had happened in the changing room.
“Hey,” she whispered as she crept up to your bunk, moving stealthily and quietly as if she were a secret agent on a mission.
You looked up at her from your screen. “Hi.”
She wanted to talk to you, but now that she was doing it—or getting to it—she didn’t quite know how to proceed; or even where to begin, actually.
“So, um,” she said, sitting down on your bunk and taking her time to find a comfortable position. You put your tablet away and watched her. “I wanted to check up on you a little.”
You smirked. “Yeah? But not a lot?”
“Not yet.” She smiled at your teasing question. “You’re not critical, but I do think I have some cause for concern.”
You pulled yourself up and pushed a pillow behind your back to sit straighter. “What makes you think that?”
“Well, you and Jungkook seem to be avoiding each other.”
You regarded her for a minute until you reached the inevitable conclusion—you suspected it yesterday, and now Luna’s knowing gaze fully convinced you that it was true.
“You know about the bet,” you said.
Luna looked around. No one on the bus appeared to be listening. Nearly everyone that she could see either had headphones on, or had their curtains drawn.
She glanced back at you and settled her gaze on the corner of your dark brown blanket.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I found out about it at the same time as you, more or less. Jungkook had, um—he’d talked to Taehyung before he told you.”
“Ah,” you said. “Well, that’s—I’m glad we all know, then.”
Luna noted the imperceptible look in your eyes. She wasn’t sure if you’d meant what you said.
Really, you weren’t sure, either. On the one hand, you were relieved that you wouldn’t have to retell what had happened to your friend. You weren’t sure you’d manage.
But on the other hand, the fact that other people knew about the bet did not feel particularly comforting—because this was one of the situations that you’d been desperate to avoid: your relationship with Jungkook getting so out of hand that the people around you began to talk about it.
However, you had been thinking a lot in the last few days and you realised that learning about the bet had helped you find some relief, too.
There was something bothering you for weeks now, something that was off in your surroundings, and now you finally knew what it was. It felt like a crooked picture frame on the wall. Like a non-alphabetical arrangement of books on a shelf. Like a bet about your relationship.
And now that you knew, the world had realigned again. You would have been able to breathe easier if you weren’t so embarrassed that other members of your team also knew about it.
“Well, aside from that,” Luna went on, keeping a careful eye on any changes in your expression. “I talked to Jungkook today. And I’m not defending him—”
“If you say ‘but’ next,” you interrupted, “that will negate your point, you know.”
“However,” Luna said instead and you rolled your eyes. “I think the bet is only half the picture. I mean, it’s shit. He fucked up. But I think that he’s been with you because he really wanted to be. Not because of the bet.”
If you had shaken your head any more vigorously, it might have flown off. Luna was slightly annoyed by your adamant rejection of everything she was saying—which made it easier for her to tell you the news.
“He fought Sid,” she said.
You frowned. “So?”
“Knocked his tooth out, I think.”
Your frown turned into shock as your eyebrows shot up nearly all the way to your hairline. When Luna said that they fought, you obviously did not expect it to be a physical altercation.
“They fought?”  you repeated.
“Yeah. Because Sid can’t keep his mouth shut,” she said. “Jungkook loathes the guy. I don’t know what sort of friendship they had before, but there’s none of that left. If I hadn’t walked in, I don’t know—I mean, he—he hates him.” Luna swallowed here, figuring that additional details might make it harder for her to make her point. “But more than that, it looked to me like Jungkook just hates himself. Now, what you want to do next, that’s up to you. I just wanted to tell you what I thought. I talked to him. He was miserable.”
“Well.” You swallowed. “He lost the bet.”
“Not about the bet. He has feelings for you. Real feelings.”
“How—”
“Don’t ask me how I know that,” she cut you off before you could ask exactly that. “These things you can just see. And it’s especially obvious in him. Because, look… Here are the facts. He had the option to keep the bet a secret from you. Or he could have gotten back together with you and won the bet. If not, he could have waited for this to pass, or until his friends told you. But he was the one who told you that he fucked up. That’s got to count for something. It’s okay if it’s not enough. But it—well, it sort of feels like a start. Because he finally got it through his thick head that this is what matters. You. He loves you.”
Your skin shivered—an automatic reaction to these words—but you scoffed. “And knocking out Sid’s tooth is a way to show it.”
Luna groaned and was about to protest, but you stopped her by shaking your head again.
“Luna—I mean—thank you, but… this is the same shit again,” you said. “The exact same shit that made us break up the first time. Except now, there’s so much more at stake. It’s no longer just about us.”
“Is it?” she asked. “Is it, really? I mean, I understand why you would think that, considering your—uh, your job. But it’s… Really, it’s just you. The two of you. As it’s always been.”
You sighed and pulled the sleeves of your turtleneck down until you could hide your fists in them. You kept your gaze on the blanket beneath you—undoubtedly disagreeing with her again—and Luna let out a soft, tired breath.
“I’m—whatever you do next, I’ll be on your side,” she said. “If you walk away, I walk away. It’s simple. I just think it’d do you two good to talk this out. When you’re ready. So that you would know what you’re walking away from.”
You were starting to shake your head again, but stopped abruptly, realising the futility of it. You weren’t actually disagreeing with Luna’s point, after all.
“It would be good,” you said. “But I don’t want to talk to him about this. This was a mistake from the very beginning.”
“So… what, then?” she asked, worried about the burden of even more unresolved feelings that you would have to carry around every day if you allowed this to linger. If this became another thing that you never talked to anyone about. “You think you can just go back to the way things were?”
“No,” you said. “Because I’m still very annoyed. But after that, then yeah. Ideally.”
Luna tried to conceal her skepticism, but it was evident in the way she sucked in her lips and nodded her head. “Okay.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for the optimism?”
She sighed and turned to face you again.
“I get it,” she said. “I understand why you don’t want to see him right now. But I also… kind of understand why he did what he did.”
Your eyebrows rose again. “Why he made the bet?”
“No,” she said, raising her index finger and closing her eyes to emphasise her point. “Not that. That I don’t understand. I meant the fight with Sid. Sid is a big reason why you’re in this situation and Jungkook had no other choice left. He got into that fight because he’s shit at choosing friends, but he loves you.”
You ran your tongue over your lips and looked back down at your blanket. “I don’t know which one of those things outweighs the other one.”
“Yeah, well, think about that,” she said. “Then talk to him.”
You were both aware that giving this advice was much easier than actually following it, and a silent minute passed without either of you looking at each other as you pondered the future.
“Nick texted me,” you said suddenly. You hadn’t realised how much his message weighed on you until you told her. “Just to check in. And, uh, to remind me of his—his offer.”
Luna did not like this, and she was glad you weren’t looking at her and didn’t see the expression on her face.
“What did you tell him?” she asked.
“I told him I’m still thinking about it.”
You felt Luna shifting her weight and fidgeting on the bunk next to you. She was uncomfortable, you could tell.
“You’re, uh… you’re really thinking about this, then?” she asked.
You threw your head back and rested it on the pillow. “I’m thinking about a lot these days.”
“Well, that’s—that’s good. Right?” she said, quietly hoping that your contemplations would eventually lead you to a decision that would cause you less suffering. She didn’t think leaving Rated Riot was that decision. You had made a family here. “Take your time with these things. Really think them through. Avoid everyone for a short while if that’s what you need.”
“Hmm. How can I avoid everyone, though?” you asked dryly. “If Jungkook got into a fight, I need to see him.”
“Ah.” Luna finally looked at you, feeling guilty somehow, as if she was the one who had punched him. “Yeah, that’s probably true. He, um—it’s not a disaster, but he did miss a couple of, uh—”
“Is he bleeding?” you asked, appreciating her effort to convey the situation without causing you alarm, but also without downplaying it.
“Well, not anymore,” she said. “At least, he wasn’t the last time I saw him. There is a, um—a black eye situation, though.”
You groaned and dropped your hands on the mattress in irritation.
“Fuck—you see? He’s doing it again. Leaving me no choice but to—oh, fuck it.” You slapped your hands on your knees and sat up straight. “He’ll have to wait until we arrive at the airport. I’m done jumping at the slightest sound he makes, manager or not.”
“I agree with that,” Luna said. “But I see that you don’t really mean it.”
You closed your eyes. “I have to mean it. I know it’s my job, and I know Jungkook never forced me into anything I didn’t consent to, but he just—this whole time, he acted like he was genuine when he was just doing what he always does. Playing along with Sid’s sick little games. Maybe he deserves to bleed a little for that.”
Luna was about to argue, but only nodded. She was very glad you were talking about this, even though you had dismissed everything she’d told you about Jungkook’s feelings.
She knew that you needed more time. You’d heard her. You just had to be in the right frame of mind to believe her.
She knew you’d get there, just as she knew Jungkook was not going to give up on you.
“Yeah,” Luna finally said. “He can wait. Do you... want to talk about it? About what he did?”
You looked murderous. “Absolutely not.”
She expected as much.
“Well, in that case,” she pulled her phone out, “you want to see something that Crowley did to my mum’s curtains? She took a video to show me.”
Your tension seemed to fade straight away. Luna’s troublemaker cat—named aptly after a Supernatural character with a redemption arc that Crowley, the cat, could only dream about—had never failed to ease your mind.
You needed some time alone. And you were very happy to be alone with her as she stretched out on the mattress next to you and played the video on her phone.
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You caught glimpses of Jungkook and his heavy sunglasses on the way to your gate at the airport, but you didn’t have the time to check how bad he looked. The other Rated Riot members had already smacked him on the back of his head after they saw his band-aids, so you decided to wait until you could talk to him in private.
About an hour later, you spotted him going to the men’s room. You waited a few minutes and stood up, too.
The restroom was empty except for the two of you, and you quietly placed your carry-on bag on the ground next to the door. Jungkook hadn’t even noticed you enter.
“There you are,” you announced from the doorway.
Jungkook flinched and splashed himself as he washed his hands in front of the wall-sized mirror.
“You were—were you looking for me?” he asked. The automatic sink stopped and he moved his hands back under the faucet to get the water running again.
“I’ve been informed you have a black eye,” you said, coming closer. “I wanted to check the damage myself.”
The side of his face that was visible to you showed no signs of injury, but when you looked at his reflection in the mirror, you saw the red and purple bruises on the side of his face, concealed by a few persistent band-aids.
Jungkook swallowed and shook his hands several times to dry them. Then, he stepped back, allowing you to examine him. “Well, here I am.”
“Here you are,” you repeated. His gaze remained fixed on yours as you scanned his features. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“Not really,” he said. “Want to tell me if you’re leaving to work with Reconnaissance?”
“Not really.”
He pursed his lips. “Well, then. Can I ask—”
“No,” you said immediately. He stopped speaking and clenched his jaw.
You were contemplating if you should have taken him to the hospital before the flight. You were also thinking about what to do with his bruises tomorrow since he had a performance, and appearing on stage with a black eye did not seem particularly professional.
“Does it hurt?” you asked. “These band-aids—did you change them?”
“No,” he said. It wasn’t clear which question he was responding to, but his answer seemed to fit both.
“You need to change them,” you said. “And clean the wounds properly.”
“I’m not going to a hospital.”
You sighed. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not that bad,” he said.
You looked back at the band-aids on the side of his face. They remained on his skin through the sheer force of will. Cuts and bruises peeked from underneath the dried blood.
“It looks bad with band-aids on,” you said. “I can only imagine what it looks like without.”
“It’s fine,” he insisted. “Luna said so.”
You knew right away that this was impossible; Luna would have known better.
“She said no such thing,” you replied.
“Okay, maybe she didn’t,” he conceded with a quiet groan. “But I’m still not going to the hospital.”
The irony of the moment—and how you’d insisted that you were okay a few days ago, just like he was doing now—was completely lost on you. You felt exhausted.
“Why…” you started to say, then sighed as you brought your fingers over your closed eyes. “Why are you making me do this?”
“Do what?”
“Clean your self-destructive wounds.”
“They’re not self-destructive—”
“Really?” Your eyes shot open, ablaze with agitation. “So, getting punched by Sid was, what? A fight for dominance that you’d planned in advance?”
He cleared his throat with indignation and continued his previous statement, “and I’m not making you clean my wounds. I’m fine.”
“Sit down,” you said, turning to grab your carry-on bag. “You’re not fine.”
Awkwardly swaying in the same spot, Jungkook looked around. “Where do you want me to sit? We’re in a public bathroom.”
“Jesus, Jungkook!” you groaned irritably. You were too tired to think of every little detail, every action, and reaction. You just wanted to take a nap on the plane. “I don’t care. Sit on the floor. Or on the toilet.”
“Neither seems sterile…”
“Good thing you didn’t get punched in the ass, then.”
He huffed but still went into one of the cubicles, lowered the toilet lid with a scrunched nose and sat down on it.
He leaned over to hold the door open with his hand until you entered a few minutes later. Before either of you could grasp how small the space was now that you were in the closed cubicle, you took out the antiseptic spray from your amateur medical kit and grabbed a cotton pad. By that point, Jungkook was too worried about what you’d do to think about how close you were.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked.
Concerned, he watched you pull a blue latex glove on one of your hands and spray the antiseptic into the air, aiming it at the floor to test it.
“No,” you admitted, taking a step towards him and stopping between his legs. With your gloved hand, you carefully peeled off the heavy band-aids from his face and tossed them into an empty plastic bag you’d brought for this specific purpose. “But neither did you when you picked a fight with Sid, so I think we’re even.”
He grimaced as the exposed lacerations on his skin immediately began to sting. “W-what makes you think I was the one who started that fight?”
“The fact that you won’t tell me what it was about,” you replied, bending your knees slightly to inspect his face. You were willing to help him look after his wounds, but changing the bandages was as far as you’d go—if he needed stitches, you’d drag him to the nearest emergency room.
“You know what it was about,” he mumbled, staring at the floor.
“I don’t.”
He didn’t want to say it. You knew he didn’t want to say it—that was why you were making him do it.
“It started about the bet,” he admitted finally. “But then he… said some things I didn’t like. Not that I liked what he said about the bet, either. But I got myself into that mess, so I—”
“What did he say?” you asked, interrupting his diversion.
You covered his left eye with a cotton pad to protect it, shook the bottle of antiseptic a few times, and sprayed it on the exposed wounds.
Jungkook winced as he felt the stinging pain grow sharper. He clutched the lid of the toilet seat, forgetting all about how he’d avoided touching it before.
“Just… some bullshit about you,” he said through clenched teeth.
Surprised, you pulled back to look at him. “He said something about me?”
“Yeah. So I socked him in the cheek.”
You watched him for a quiet minute.
Honestly, if Sid had said something about you, you probably would have punched him yourself if Jungkook hadn’t. But the way Jungkook phrased this—and this whole situation, in general—was so ridiculous that you had to bite the inside of your cheek to maintain a straight face.
“In the mouth,” you corrected. “Or so I hear.”
Jungkook couldn’t subdue the smile on his lips at the amusement that you tried very hard to hide. So, you knew about Sid’s tooth then.
“That was after he wouldn’t stop talking,” he said.
“Ah. Well,” you returned to work and gently patted his cheek with the cotton pad to remove the excess antiseptic, “I appreciate you defending my honour.”
“You don’t sound like it.”
You scoffed. “What do you want me to do? Jump on your white horse and ride off into the sunset with you?”
The light-hearted tone of your voice suddenly amplified your close proximity—he felt his legs tremble slightly as you stood between them to reach his face better. He wanted to reach out and wrap himself around you, to thank you, and to apologise again.
Instead, he cleared his throat and lowered his gaze.
“Well, that’d be nice,” he muttered. Then, added louder, “or, at the very least, you could stop burning me.”
“I’m disinfecting,” you said as you leaned in again, checking if the spray had absorbed into his bruises yet. His breath caught in his throat. You added, “I think.”
Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever felt a longing so intense that it could overshadow all physical pain.
“You think,” he repeated breathlessly. “Th—that’s reassuring.”
“It’s what my mum used to use when my brother and I would get cuts or scratches, and things like that,” you explained defensively. “Of course, this is hardly a scratch in your case, but I have nothing better to offer.”
He didn’t mean to come across as accusatory. He didn’t know what he was saying at all. You still smelled like apples. He was afraid he would pass out.
“This is fine,” he said.
He knew that you were already doing more than your job description entailed and your personal relationship permitted, and he was grateful for it. He hadn’t meant to cause you any additional problems, and he wanted to inform you of the steps he’d taken to fix the ones he’d already caused.
He waited until you had finished searching through your medical kit before speaking again.
“I, um—I banned Sid from Rated Riot shows,” he said.
You turned to look at him so quickly that a tired muscle in your neck spasmed in protest. “What?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Mick will take care of it if he shows up.”
“Mick—you banned Sid?”
“I banned Sid,” he repeated slowly, giving you a minute to process the news. “It’s done. I don’t—I never should have brought him to Europe with me.”
You straightened and attempted to compose yourself, but your mind was suddenly bombarding you with question marks and software errors every time you tried to form a coherent thought.
“Well, that’s—that’s right,” you finally said, clearing your throat. “And it’s about time you realised that.”
You didn’t know what else to say. Congratulating him right now, considering the repercussions of his last confrontation with Sid, seemed in poor taste.
Not to mention, you were a little confounded. After your last argument outside the bus, you’d expected a lot of drunk nights and a lot of new mayhem that you would have to put back in order. You weren’t expecting mature decisions.
Jungkook didn’t notice the utter shock in your voice, however, because his pulse tried to deafen him with a dreadful paranoia, telling him that this was too little and too late.
Notenough-notenough-notenough, the beat of his heart echoed in his ears.
“I know,” Jungkook said, louder than he’d intended. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
You pulled out a new cotton pad and mumbled something under your breath.
Jungkook gazed up at you as you hovered over him with your medical kit. “Can I—can I ask you something, though?”
You gently wiped the side of his temple where the antiseptic had dripped, all while trying to calm down the chaos in your mind. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Reconnaissance?”
There was a long pause as you returned to your kit—more for the purpose of giving yourself some time to think rather than out of necessity.
“I don’t know,” you finally said. “I wasn’t seriously considering it, and it never came up in a casual conversation.”
“We spent three days in Amsterdam, just the two of us,” he said. “How could it not come up?”
You gave him a look. “Really? You think you can ask me that when you knew—and participated—in the bet for weeks before telling me about it?”
Jungkook looked down. “It wasn’t weeks...”
“Well, fantastic.”
Unsettled by your sarcasm, he added, “and I told you, eventually.”
“No, I actually guessed it before you told me,” you said with one hand on your hip as you gazed at the restroom wall behind him, deep in thought. “I told you that you were only acting like that because of some external force. And you really were doing it to win a—”
“No.” He shook his head so fiercely that you almost worried he’d injure himself more. “The bet gave me a push. But I wanted you all along, and—”
“No,” you disagreed, turning away to throw the used cotton pads into the plastic bag. “You—just—just don’t.”
He already knew that this would be the wrong thing to say before he even said it. He simply couldn’t control himself—but he tried to now.
“I’m just—I’m trying to say that this hurt me, too,” he said slowly. “You’re—you might leave to work with a different band. A-and I was the only one who didn’t know about that.”
“I—”
“I know,” he continued louder, “that this is not the same as what I did. It’s not even close. But I still—I feel like this should have been something you talked to me about.”
You sighed and grabbed a glass bottle of iodine-based ointment from your bag. “It probably was.”
“Are you really considering it?” he asked. “Leaving, I mean.”
So much had changed since you told Maggie and Luna that you’d stay, and repeated the same to Yoongi and Namjoon.
All you could say to Jungkook now was a dejected, “I don’t know.”
The tight grip of pain around his chest did not ease, but he didn’t expect it to. Not yet, at least.
“I’m truly sorry,” he said, lifting his gaze. Both of you quickly averted your eyes as if the eye contact burnt. “For this and… for everything.”
You nodded in acknowledgement of the apology but did not reply to it.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Reconnaissance,” you said instead. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
He nodded back and you continued to work in silence. You were glad that your current task required your full attention, so you did not have to linger on how wounded he looked—not just physically, but somehow intrinsically, too. If you glanced at him, all the tears and cuts and bruises on his heart would have been as visible as they were on his face.
You applied the ointment to his temple now that the antiseptic had dried—and Jungkook clenched his teeth again, keeping the painful hiss contained. The ointment was probably excessive, and it might dye his skin an odd shade of purple, but you didn’t know what else to do.
When you looked closer, his cuts didn’t appear deep enough to require stitches, so all you could do at the moment was ensure they didn’t become infected – and this questionable procedure should have accomplished that.
You pressed some gauze to the more severe wounds and bandaged them—as much as you could. You used smaller band-aids for the less serious cuts. Then, you stepped back to look.
This would need work. He looked like he slammed the side of his head into a wall and a toddler had attempted to provide first aid.
“This should hold for now before I come up with something else,” you said. “I have to go. I’ll need to find a way to incorporate this,” you gestured around his face, “into your look for tomorrow’s show.”
You turned to push the cubicle door open, then stopped short when you felt his cold, tentative fingers wrap around your wrist.
“Wait,” he said, releasing your hand as soon as he noticed you looking down at his grip. “Just… just tell me what’s going to happen.”
“With your face?” you asked with a confused frown. “It’s going to hurt for a while probably, but it—”
“With us,” he cut you off.
You looked away, maintaining your posture even as your heart refused to listen to your mind and proceeded to pound furiously in your chest.
“There’s no ‘us’,” you said.
“You can’t say that.” He stood up and suddenly reduced the empty space between you in the cubicle. “Not after everything that happened.”
‘Everything that happened’ seemed to have a bitter flavour—he could see the distaste on your face as your tongue prodded your cheek.
“It was obviously a mistake,” you said.
You remembered it all, you knew what it meant. But you didn’t want to trust any of the moments in your memory.
Jungkook could taste your bitterness in his own mouth.
You added ruthlessly, “and it’s over.”
“What’s over?” he asked. He tried to place a hand on his hip, but his trembling fingers slid down his hoodie and his hand dropped to his side.
“Whatever this is,” you said, and each of your following words felt like a new scratch deep inside of him. “Whatever you were doing to win your bet, and whatever I was stupidly playing along with.”
There was nothing but a few breaths separating the two of you in this cubicle, yet you may as well have been in a different orbit entirely. Desperate, Jungkook raised his hands to the back of his head and intertwined his fingers.
“I wasn’t—it wasn’t because of the bet,” he protested—not for the first time. With one more shake of your head, you turned around and pushed the door of the cubicle open. “Look, wait! I’m sorr—”
“It’s over, Jungkook,” you said, pausing halfway. “Stop.”
“How can it—I don’t—just—just tell me this one thing, okay? Before you go,” he pleaded, following you out of the cubicle and watching you toss your medical kit into your carry-on.
There was a hint of sadness in your eyes when you looked up. “What?”
“If there was no bet, wou—would you have agreed to be with me again?”
Your pulse reverberated in your mind, shrieking and piercing, as you shook your head and turned away.
“If there was no bet,” you said, “you wouldn’t have even wanted to be with me again.”
For a minute, you both watched the floor in thick, pain-coated silence. It consumed you, this otherworldly quietness—your thoughts stilled, even your bodies seemed to pause and wait.
That wasn’t true, Jungkook wanted to say—and should have said. But he was so tired of saying things and having to defend them, to prove he meant them.
He wondered if there was anything he could say to you from this point on that you would believe. He loved you so much—he’s never loved anyone else, the very idea of it did not seem possible—yet he made you think he wasn’t serious.
He watched you leave—again—and felt his chest shrink to accommodate the slowing of his heartbeat—again, again—as he struggled to inhale, let alone open his mouth—again, again, again—realising, slowly, that there might not be enough words in existence to fix this.
“I love you,” he still tried, but the restroom door had already closed and he wasn’t sure if you’d heard him. Or if it made a difference if you did.
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There was something very ironic about the plans you had for the rest of the day once the plane landed in Manchester.
The concert was originally scheduled for tomorrow, but the venue had suffered a flood from a broken pipe a few nights ago, causing everything that the organisers had promised you to be ruined. They tried to fix it, but they needed some more time. You found out on the plane that the concert would have to be postponed until the day after tomorrow.
To make matters worse, Ren, the bassist of Poison Tongue—Rated Riot’s opening act—had broken his foot at the airport (you were afraid to ask how) and was hospitalised, rendering the band incapable of performing. You needed to find a replacement on extremely short notice.
This was a crisis, but only another one of many. You hadn’t slept at all on the plane, but despite your pounding headache, you were grateful for a chance to keep busy, and you had a precise plan of action.
You would find the venue staff and direct them to Seokjin—after checking if Seokjin was even here.
Next, you would make sure the equipment arrived safely and unpacking it at the damaged venue did not pose any risk to your team.
After that, you would seek Maggie’s help with an online ad for a new opening act.
Then, you would call the label and sweet-talk them before the inevitable black-eye pictures.
You would also devise a plan to handle the aforementioned black eye, which, hopefully, will have improved by the time of the concert.
And, most importantly, you would avoid Jungkook.
Really, the plan was almost foolproof. You figured your to-do list would continue to expand, even after you completed certain tasks, so you essentially had no chance of being left alone with your thoughts or accidentally running into him.
But then, on your way out of the band’s dressing room, you noticed that your surroundings were spinning more than usual. It happened occasionally, this abrupt lightheadedness after you stood up too quickly. But this time, it persisted even after you crossed the corridor.
You tried to tell yourself that this wasn’t anything new, you were just overwhelmed. This had to be the stress—you hadn’t slept and you had so much to do that it was normal to feel dizzy.
You kept walking. Until you had to trace your hand along the patterns of the wallpaper on the wall to stay steady. Until the edges of your vision blurred. Until the wet floorboards beneath your feet wobbled. Until the room grew dark.
You thought you could feel yourself leaning against the wall and slowly lowering your body to the floor. You thought you could feel the damp floor under your fingertips. You thought you could hear someone’s voice in the distance.
For a split moment before you collapsed, it occurred to you that you were really very tired. And that Jungkook had warned you about having another fainting spell if you weren’t careful.
But then your heart rate restricted the flow of blood to your brain, and there was not a single conscious thought left in your vacant mind.
As it happened sometimes—coincidences, unless you treated them as signs—Jungkook was the one who found you.
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chapter title credits: sleep token, “blood sport”
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