#clearly max is as vanilla as they come

[thatsdemko]

unknown - m.verstappen

masterlist | pairing: max verstappen x Hamilton!fem!reader. summary: when an unknown number comes across his phone, max can’t help but discover who’s sent him the image he can’t erase from his mind. warnings: 18+ + fingering (f receiving) + mentions of nudity + fluff (at the end). a/n: I want to give a huge shoutout to @monzabee for always being my inspiration to finish my smut, but also for convincing me to read twisted games (this ones inspired by that xx)

unknown

attachment: 1 image

the pinging sound distracts him from the current game on his television. pausing for a quick second, max glances at the unknown number and slides the message open as curiosity struck him.

unknown

can you see my nipples through this?

Max’s phone nearly drops into his lap at the second message. he barely got the chance to even open the image, the second message was far too appalling and his hands got too slippery from the precipitation building around him.

“max! come on!” the chatter from his headset snaps his attention from the black phone screen in his lap. red slips across his cheeks as he apologizes quickly for the distraction, and continues on like nothing happened.

though he couldn’t lie, the curiosity of the image was certainly looming around him. what was the person wearing? could he see said nipples? he couldn’t help but try to sneak peaks at his phone whenever he got the chance before the stream ended.

finally free from his friends, max slides open his phone and his breath sucks inward. you could definitely see your nipples through the sheer linen tight white top. in fact, if it weren’t for your underwear, you could see the very outline of your vagina.

fuck. max was unsure to text back. if he did, what would he even say? there was no clear indication on who it was sending the message. he didn’t recognize the number, and on top of that there was no face. the image was purely just the outfit.

max verstappen

a bra would be appropriate.

your heart fell about five stories down, and right into the pit of your gut. shit, you didn’t send the message to your friends. instead, you mistook the ID you tapped on for one of them, and it turned out to very clearly be your brothers rival: max verstappen.

unknown

don’t mention this to Lewis.

max verstappen

secret is safe with me.

while this made perfectly good blackmail, max had nothing against you. you were completely innocent and most likely too stupid to notice you tapped his phone number instead. he’d never utter a word to Lewis, and the photo would die with max whenever the time may be.

max verstappen

where are you headed looking like that?

y/n Hamilton

your moms house.

max stifled out a chuckle unable to believe that you were born by the same parents as Lewis. when it came to humor, Lewis used it very minimal, but from the select times max had spoken to you, you were the complete opposite. meditation was joke, veganism was impossible to follow, and driving at fast speeds was too boring. y/n hamilton was every opposite of her brother.

max verstappen

I think my house is a better place for that

your heart somehow jumped back into its place, attempting to thump its way out of its cavity. max could easily be joking, he could easily be serious, but either way you shouldn’t go. max was probably not interested in women like you, and sure the photo might’ve tipped the scales in your favor, but you weren’t really into vanilla sex like he could offer.

y/n Hamilton

you wish I was headed to your place like this.

max verstappen

I do.

fuck. you close your eyes, letting your fingers type the message and hit send before you can even have a single regret. max might be your opposite in the bedroom, but you can’t help but wonder what he’s got up his sleeve.

y/n Hamilton

I’m free right now.

—

twenty minutes later his soft lips are leaving trails down your neck, his fingers work the buttons of the top that sickened his soul into this. he was careful not rip the material, but he was so the opposite of careful when his lips wrapped around your nipple.

his tongue and teeth graze the sensitive skin while you melt against his mattress into a puddle.

you were so wrong about him. oh so so, wrong.

he’d practically ripped that white shirt to shreds the second you entered his place. his tongue was a dominate force, shoved down your throat, his lips were passionate and full of eager. vanilla sex was so not max. you could write pages about him, no fantasy or book explored the way max did.

his fingers. oh gosh, they could write stories about how delicate, and soft they were. how they expanded your folds and had you clenching around nothing. they worked wonders— magic perhaps, pumping at such a fast speed you didn’t have time to react feeling him floor you until every drop of you was around him.

“these,” his tongue swipes across your breast, lips wrapping around the tip of your nipple, sucking you like a baby its thumb. it was relaxing, gut twisting, and chilling. he left you panting, begging, and still he wasn’t finished. no ounce of him showed signs of stopping.

when finally he was done toying, done with whatever ‘warmup’ he claimed this to be, his large cock filled you, warmth overtook with pleasure when you felt his hips grind yours. the rhythm was nothing like his fingers, nothing like how his tongue moved on your skin, it was slow. he was slow, like he were to savor every moment of this.

you clench, you squeal, beg, whatever could come from you as noise. nothing was coherent, and max liked that. in fact, it quickened his pace with a smirk as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan his name.

“you’re taking it well.” his voice is raspy, husk and faint. a moan rippled through your body at the sound of him, you could feel butterflies unleash in the warmth of your stomach as you cry out and come on his cock.

“you’re different than I expected you to be.” you say watching him roll to the pillow beside you, his blue eyes fixed on yours, they still have that hunger in them that turns you on.

“when you wear a top like that,” his breath sucks inward, a simple shake of his head at the newest dirty ideas floating in his mind, “I can’t control myself.”

a breathy chuckle escapes your lips as you curl your body into his, perfectly molding together, “I guess I’m glad I ditched the girls for you.”

a smile stretches across his lips that he carefully plants on your forehead, “thanks for the text, I hope to receive more in the future.”

“you earned yourself a spot on speed dial.”

[chimcess]

Bittersweet || myg (2)

Pairing: Yoongi x ReaderOther Tags: Grad Student!Yoongi, Undergrad!Reader, Grad Student!Hoseok, Uncle!Namjoon, Doctor!Namjoon, Grad Student!Jimin, Fuckboy!Jungkook, GradStudent!Jungkook, Boss!Seokjin, Yoongi POV Genre: College!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, kinda Student/Teacher but not really, Older!Yoongi, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut Word Count: 19.9k+ Summary: When a cynical graduate student meets an overly enthusiastic undergraduate, the air crackles with tension—though not all of it is good. Warnings: Mean!Yoongi, bitter grad student to the max, strong language, Jimin is still a snitch, possible wrong science information (i'm sorry i'm not perfect), sexual tension, Yoongi pining and being in love for almost 20k words, kissing at work, almost caught, graphic s*x scenes, non-descriptive smut as well, Jealous!Yoongi, i'm sorry but this JK is kind of a slime ball, Reader knows what she's doing, they're adorable, lots of bickering, drunk Yoon, drunk texting, they're both the biggest dorks on the planet, reader sleep talks, multiple sex scenes, oral (m&f receiveing), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, handjobs, all things considered these two are very vanilla, some dirty talk, reader mostly takes charge, public sex, sex at work, shower sex, again they're still dorks even when they're in bed, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Here's the second (and final) installment of this little two-shot. Thanks for reading!

Prev

I decided not to make a fuss about the stupid recruitment party. It was just a way for them to shove fresh-faced recruits down our throats, anyway. Instead of hitching a ride with Hoseok and Serena, I opted to walk alone, letting the cool night air wash over me. The campus felt both familiar and alien in the twilight, the shadows stretching long and eerie across the cracked pavement. Walking had always been my way of clearing my head, but tonight it felt like a futile exercise.

As soon as I stepped inside the venue, the noise slammed into me—laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses mingling into a chaotic symphony of youthful energy. I scanned the room, and when my eyes landed on her, I couldn’t help but groan. Y/N was there, and she was wearing those jeans—God, they looked painted on, hugging her curves in a way that sent my pulse racing. Her legs stretched endlessly, accentuated by those unforgiving black heels that screamed danger. My throat tightened with the realization: she was wearing fuck-me heels.

Fuck me indeed…

I shook my head, forcing myself to look away, as if her mere presence was some twisted magnet pulling me closer. I made my way to the bar at the back, seeking refuge against the wall while I nursed a drink, pretending to be absorbed in the chaos around me. But it didn’t take long before my eyes betrayed me, drawn back to her like a moth to a flame. She was laughing with a group of kids—probably this year’s recruits—her smile radiant and infectious.

Then, like a bad omen, Jungkook sauntered in, drink in hand, striding over to her with that cocky grin of his.

“Yoongi’s here! Let the party begin!” Serena’s voice cut through my thoughts, grating like nails on a chalkboard. I grimaced.

“What took you so long? Had trouble matching that sweater?” Hoseok appeared behind her, donning a tie that screamed ‘pretentious.’

I shot Serena a look, raising an eyebrow, and she responded with a smirk, clearly reveling in my discomfort.

“Yeah… not all of us have the privilege of being dressed by our girlfriends,” I muttered, bitterness creeping into my tone.

“Come on… I kid, I kid,” Hoseok laughed, draping an arm over my shoulder.

“I’ll leave you two to your bromance,” Serena rolled her eyes, tossing her hair back. “I better go suck up to my P.I.”

“How are you?” Hoseok’s tone shifted, sensing the dark cloud hanging over me.

“I’m peachy,” I replied, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

“I see…” He glanced in Y/N’s direction. “Oh… I see.”

“Yeah, well, Jungkook’s trying to get her drunk,” I hissed through clenched teeth, watching as he leaned in closer.

“Right. Jeon’s all over your zygote’s business,” he replied, a knowing smirk on his lips.

I groaned into my beer, bitterness churning in my stomach.

“C’mon! More drinking, less brooding!” He smacked my back playfully, but it only deepened the pit of resentment growing inside me.

An hour later, I was still a wallflower, slouched against my corner, shamelessly staring at Y/N as she flitted around the room. Jungkook kept swooping in like a hawk, but she brushed him off, her laughter echoing like a melody in the air. That was a relief, at least. Yet, reality settled in like a thick fog: she hadn’t even noticed me yet.

Then, our eyes locked. Time seemed to freeze, and I swear I involuntarily smiled. She walked toward me, a small grin dancing on her lips, and I was struck by how her hair flowed over her shoulders, the softness of it almost intoxicating. “Is that a new sweater?” she asked, her voice sweet and melodic.

“Are you making fun of me?” I shot back lightly.

“No…” she chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “You look good.”

“You look good too,” I replied, the words feeling flat against the brilliance of her presence. Well, that was an understatement—she looked stunning.

“You shouldn’t be drinking,” I said, gesturing to the beer in her hand, feeling an unexpected rush of protectiveness.

“Why not?” She brought the bottle to her mouth, her lips wrapping around it like an invitation.

Focus, Min!

“Are you twenty-one yet?” I blurted out, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Are you the party police?”

“Very funny,” I deadpanned, annoyance creeping in as I waited for her answer.

“If you must know, I am twenty-one already, thank you very much.”

“You are?” I was genuinely surprised. She didn’t seem old enough to be a senior, not with that wide-eyed enthusiasm.

“Yep, I missed a year in junior high. No biggie.” She shrugged, casual as ever.

“Oh…” The admission surprised me, stirring questions in my mind. What could have caused someone as smart and driven as her to miss a year?

My distraction drifted away as my gaze returned to her shoulders, delicate freckles dusting her skin, catching the fading light.

“Oh! I haven’t met that one!” Y/N quipped, spotting another recruit. “Be right back.”

I was entranced, eyes glued to her as she walked away, her hips swaying like a pendulum, counting down the moments until she returned. I was royally screwed. Somewhere along the way, I’d transformed from oblivious to hyper-aware, every single action of hers magnified under the microscope of my attention. How could I go back to not seeing her when each new thing I noticed sent heat flooding through me?

Y/N returned, all smiles, clutching another beer bottle that she’d snatched from Jungkook. “Why are you so angry?” she asked, leaning against the wall next to me.

“Y/N, I’m not angry. I’m having fun.” I tried to sound calm, but my voice cracked like thin ice.

“This is you having fun?” she countered, gesturing to my slumped posture with her beer.

“Yes,” I insisted, though my gaze lingered on the constellation of freckles scattered across her nose.

“Standing in the corner, looking at everyone like you’re a bodyguard, or an undercover cop—that’s you having fun?”

“Yes.” I shrugged, clinging to some semblance of composure.

“You’re angry.” She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in playful challenge.

“I’m not angry!” But deep down, the heat was rising inside me.

She laughed, the sound bubbling up like a mountain spring. “You’re frowning.”

“Because you’re driving me insane!” I inhaled deeply, trying to relax, but she was intoxicating.

“Why?” She stepped closer, her presence an electric charge in the air.

“Because you’re too happy.” And adorable…

“What’s wrong with being happy?” she retorted, her hand perched on her hip, radiating defiance.

My eyes drifted back to her, tracing the curve of her hip accentuated by those devilish pants. I closed my eyes, taking another deep breath to steady myself. “It’s extremely annoying.”

“Well, I’m sorry.” Her smile morphed into a giggle, and I groaned, feeling the weight of my frustration. “Do I really annoy you so much?”

She peered at me, eyebrows knitting together, a small frown blossoming on her face. I resisted the urge to look at her lips, afraid that if I did, I might just pull her in and kiss her right there.

“Yes,” I groaned, hoping my eyes conveyed that my answer was really “no.”

She held my gaze, and it felt like we were suspended in time, the world around us fading into insignificance. My fingers tightened around the neck of my beer bottle, anxiety coiling in my stomach. With a sigh, she shook her head and walked away again, leaving me alone with my turbulent thoughts.

Honestly, Y/N’s unyielding happiness, her enthusiasm, and all that radiance—it wasn’t annoying at all. It was refreshing, endearing, and it inspired me in ways I hadn’t felt in years. I couldn’t help but remember the excitement I once felt about starting this journey, how my heart raced at the thought of diving into research. What had changed? What did success even mean if there was no one to share it with?

So yes, Y/N’s happiness was far from annoying.

What was truly infuriating was that she made it impossible for me to keep my hands to myself.

“Jungkook offered to walk me home,” Y/N said, her voice slicing through the murmur of the crowd like a knife. I kept my gaze fixed on the throng, avoiding her bright eyes, filled with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “But I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

When I finally turned to look at her, a smile tugged at her lips, a spark of mischief lighting her features. “I think you might be right about him—he is kind of a tool.”

A snort escaped me, the tension in my chest easing just a fraction. “Plus I don’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust him either, Y/N,” I admitted, feeling the weight of my own words. It was the only reason I was here, shadowing her like a ghost.

“Can I lie and tell him you’re walking me home instead?”

Her gaze catches mine, and I’m momentarily swept away in the depths of her beautiful eyes, glowing softly under the dim lights, as if they’re hiding secrets just waiting to be uncovered. 

“You don’t have to lie, Y/N. I’ll walk you home myself,” I say, my voice dripping with sincerity I didn’t know I had. She looks down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, an unintentional cue for me to look away.

When she finally says she’s ready to leave, we exchange goodbyes, and she pauses at the door, rummaging through her bag. I can’t help but smile when she pulls out a pair of black Chucks. As she grips my arm to slide off her high heels, I catch a flicker of discomfort flash across her face.

“Are you okay?” I ask, concern bubbling up.

“Yeah, my feet are killing me,” she replies, a hint of laughter in her voice.

“I could go get my car.”

“Nonsense. It’s just ten minutes away,” she insists, slipping her shoes back on, and we begin our trek.

As we walk toward her building, she animatedly recounts stories about prospective students, her voice weaving a vibrant tapestry that pulls us closer together. It’s no wonder she’s so well-liked; anyone would be a fool not to adore her. 

“Can you hold these?” she asks, passing me her heels as we reach her building. A twinge of envy strikes me at the sight of those dainty straps that had just hugged her ankles.

She digs through her purse, clearly on a mission. 

“Shit…” Frustration laces her voice. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have my keys… I must have left them inside, in my other bag.”

“Oh…” I glance at the time. It’s past two in the morning. 

Should I offer her a place to stay? That’s what any decent person would do, right? But what if… what if I couldn’t keep my hands to myself?

“I’m so stupid!” she exclaims, smacking her forehead with the heel of her hand.

“Hey, relax… um… I have a bed. I mean, a couch.” 

She looks up at me, skepticism dancing across her features.

“Really, it’s no problem.” I shrug, trying to keep my tone casual, as if it’s just a simple offer rather than an opportunity for something more.

Her expression remains doubtful.

“That’s what graduate student mentors are for, right?”

A small grin appears on her lips, and I can’t help but smile back. If all else fails, maybe I could find a way to make her smile like that—nothing would make me happier.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… it’s not like it’d be awkward or anything,” I tease, and her laughter lifts the tension in the air.

It takes us about twenty minutes to reach my apartment. Y/N talks a mile a minute, and I barely manage to squeeze a word in, but I don’t mind; her voice wraps around me like a warm blanket on a chilly night.

As we climb the steps of my building, I notice her wince again, gripping the railing for support.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Worry creeps in; she looks genuinely pained.

She takes a deep breath, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Y/N, please, just tell me what’s wrong.” I reach for her hand, desperate to ease whatever discomfort she’s feeling.

“Can we just go inside?” She clutches my hand tighter. “I’ll tell you, I promise.”

I help her inside and guide her to the couch. She collapses onto it with a shaky breath, extending her legs and rubbing her thighs—a gesture that sends a pang of concern through me.

“It’s not a big deal,” she begins, trying to sound lighthearted. “Sometimes I get pain in my legs from an old injury.”

“Oh… can I get you something for it?”

“Just water is fine.” She digs through her bag and pulls out a bottle of ibuprofen, shaking it at me with a smile.

As I rush to the kitchen, unease coils in my stomach. She had been walking the whole time, and I hadn’t even noticed she was in pain. I pour two glasses of water, my hands trembling slightly as I hand one to her and settle down beside her.

“You should’ve told me you were hurting, Y/N. I would have gotten the car.”

“I’m all right.” She gives me a soft smile, glancing around my sparsely decorated apartment. “Your place is nice.”

Nice? It’s barren—like a forgotten room in an old house where laughter used to echo. I turn the glass of water in my hands, my mind racing. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

She meets my gaze as I take a sip. “If you’re wondering if I’m a virgin, the answer is no.”

I choke on the water, caught off guard by her sudden candor. “Jesus Christ, woman, how drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk at all. I’m just messing with you. What were you going to ask?”

I look at her, heat rising in my cheeks as the tension coils between us. “I was just curious about how you got injured,” I admit, my thoughts drifting to the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me.

“Oh, well… My mom and I were in a car accident. I broke my hip and both my legs.” She says it so casually, as if she’s recounting a minor scrape.

“What?”

“Yeah… it was okay, though. After rehab, I was as good as new!” She beams, her enthusiasm a stark contrast to the weight of her words.

“How long was rehab?”

“Long enough.” 

I remember something she mentioned earlier. “Long enough to make you miss a year in school?”

She responds with a grin and a nonchalant shrug. “Shit, Y/N. That sucks. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s all right. I’m actually glad it happened.” Her gaze drifts down to her legs, fingers tracing an invisible path over her thighs. “It brought my parents back together, just as they were meant to be.”

Her eyes return to mine, and the intensity of her words fills the air. “My parents got divorced when I was little, and my mom and I moved to Florida. But after the accident, my dad came to help, and they just… clicked, I guess. They’ve been together ever since.” She smiles proudly, and I sit there, stunned.

A strand of hair falls across her face, and I can’t resist the urge to tuck it behind her ear—an excuse to bridge the distance between us. With every detail she shares, I feel myself drawn closer, tangled in her life, as if I’m getting lost in her depths.

“Okay…” I set my glass down on the coffee table, the clink echoing like a heartbeat in the stillness. “I think you deserve the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“Why?”

“Because I just made you walk—”

“It’s not your fault. I locked myself out.”

“Y/N, please…”

“Okay, okay… don’t get all grumpy on me.” She stands, and I hover over her, uncertain how to help, torn between the urge to support her and the instinct to maintain some distance.

“Hey, stop it.” She steadies herself with a hand on my arm. “I’m fine. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I lead her to my bedroom, showing her where the bathroom is. I offer her some of my clothes to change into, but she declines, insisting it wouldn’t be the first time she slept in jeans.

She sits on the bed, and just as I’m about to leave, she calls out, “Yoongi?”

I turn, and she gestures for me to sit beside her, lying back on the comforter, vulnerability etched into her features.

I swallow hard as I lower myself next to her, the proximity amplifying the tension crackling in the air.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me anymore.”

I stare awkwardly at her, afraid to move and wake her up. Leaning back against the headboard, I let the silence linger, my mind racing with all the things I want to say. I want to know her—really know her—not just as the emotionally unavailable guy I’ve been until now.

Hoseok was right—I've got it bad for Y/N Y/L/N.

I think I preferred it when Y/N was just a blurry thought in my mind, hidden behind a blindfold I’d created to shield my heart. Back then, I didn’t have to wrestle with the urge to kiss her or feel the tempting softness of her hair against my fingers. But now, the blindfold has slipped away, and so has my common sense. Here I am, a hopeless observer, lurking in the shadows as she sleeps, feeling like a total creep.

Her face is peaceful, like a canvas painted with serenity, only occasionally disturbed by the flutter of her lashes. Her lips form a perfect little "o," and the way her bangs fall delicately over her forehead sends my heart racing. I long to reach out, to push them aside, to bury my hands in her hair like I did before. Slowly, I lift my hand, inching it closer to her face, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

“Jack!” Y/N suddenly cries out, her voice slicing through the silence like glass. My heart jumps. “There’s a boat, Jack!” The frown that creases her brow twists her serene expression into something frantic, as if she’s caught in a storm of dreams.

What is happening? Is she having a nightmare? Who’s Jack? 

Just as quickly, her face smooths over again, tranquility restored as if the storm has passed, leaving only a gentle breeze behind.

Isn’t it just my luck? Y/N talks in her sleep, and apparently, she’s got a soft spot for someone named Jack—maybe a sailor too. 

I could rent a boat. We could go sailing if she wanted. Maybe I could learn to sail. If Jack can do it, how hard could it be? Does she even like sailing? I’ll ask her tomorrow.

What am I even thinking? No, I’m not going to ask her tomorrow, because we aren’t going sailing. She can go with Jack for all I care.

I groan, burying my face in my hands, frustration and disbelief washing over me. I’ve seriously lost it. This is ridiculous.

“Fucking Jess ate my Chobani again,” Y/N mutters, jolting me from my thoughts. Jess? Who the hell is that? And what even is a Chobani?

I should go. I shouldn’t be here, lurking in the shadows, eavesdropping on this craziness.

“Jonah Rodgers thinks I’m sexy…” 

For the love of God! Is she trying to drive me mad?

Jonah Rodgers? The name sounds familiar. Do I know him? Is he that jerk who used to stalk her? 

The stalker. Damn it. If I were still T.A.-ing, I’d fail him for disrespecting Y/N in this way.

I can’t take this anymore. If she mentions another guy, I swear I’m going to lose it. I sit at the edge of the bed, ready to leave, but before I can move, Y/N speaks again.

“Does Yoongi think I’m sexy?” 

I do, I do, I do…

“Hmm… my Grumpy.” 

Her soft moan sends a jolt of electricity coursing through me, and I’m utterly unprepared—shredded, breathless, completely undone. 

Does she mean me? She called me Grumpy once, right? Said I was the only Grumpy she knew. Am I her Grumpy?

Shit, shit, shit!

I slump back against the headboard, the realization both thrilling and terrifying. 

Is Y/N dreaming about me? Is it wrong that this feels so right? That my heart is swelling with excitement at the thought of being part of her dreams?

I turn to look at her again. She’s frowning now, exaggerated and cute, her lips pouting in a way that tugs at my heart.

“Do not touch my samples, Becca!” Her voice is low and raspy. “Don’t be so happy, Becca!” And then she smiles, as if a hidden joke just crossed her mind. “Run, Becca! Run!” 

Oh, she’s definitely dreaming about me, just not in the way I had hoped.

She’s making fun of me—in her dreams.

Wonderful.

I groan, letting my head thud back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling as disappointment settles over me like a heavy shroud. I shouldn’t be wishing for Y/N to dream about me; it would only complicate things. We can’t be together; this will never work.

In a year, I’ll graduate, and then it’ll be New York City, and Estelle all over again. Estelle and I had been together for four years when we graduated from Cornell. She wanted me to get a “real” job, to move with her to New York. She wanted me to abandon the chance for grad school at UW, to work at one of the top cancer research centers in the country. She made me choose, and I chose research.

And you know what? I have no regrets. Even though she didn’t know everything about my parents, she knew it mattered to me—she shouldn’t have made me choose. So when she said, “If you leave, we’re done,” I left. I figured I was better off alone, or as she put it, “end up alone and rot in lab hell.” It didn’t seem like such a sacrifice then—my relationship with Estelle was mediocre at best.

So, I dove headfirst into grad school and landed in one of the best labs in the program. I didn’t let any woman get in my way. I was focused, determined—until I woke up four years later, an angry, bitter shell of a man, nursing my bruised pride.

What a wake-up call that was! Suddenly, I started noticing everything—the things I fought so hard to ignore. I had worn blinders for so long, and I missed so much.

Honestly, I never expected to feel so unfulfilled.

Isn’t this what I wanted when I chose to leave Estelle? What am I missing? Why am I not enjoying my work anymore?

I glance at Y/N again. Her expression is peaceful once more, an angelic mask that makes me ache with longing. I can see myself falling for her easily—if I’m lucky, she might fall for me too. But then what? 

Then I’ll have to choose: my work, my life, what I owe to my parents, over her. She’ll make me choose, and I’ll choose science—cancer research—and it will shatter us both. This time, it would be the greatest sacrifice I’d ever have to make. And honestly, I’m not even sure I’d be strong enough to make that decision. If Y/N were to love me back, how could I hurt her like that?

I sigh, dragging a hand down my face, the weight of my thoughts pressing heavily on my chest.

Y/N is smiling now, giggling softly, her laughter a haunting melody in the quiet room. How someone can giggle in her sleep is beyond me. After a while, she calms, her breathing slowing even more. With a sigh, I close my eyes and wait, holding my breath for what she might say next.

I wake with a start, my neck and back screaming in protest from the unforgiving embrace of the headboard. I must’ve slept in the same awkward position all night, unmoving. Stretching my arms, I blink against the morning light, squinting at my watch. Seven o’clock. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut—Y/N is gone.

Rubbing my sore neck, I drag myself out of bed and around the apartment, searching for any sign of her. Her bag and heels are missing. An uneasy feeling churns in my stomach as I plod back to the bed, my mind racing with questions about where she could have gone so early. That’s when I notice the slip of paper on the nightstand.

Morning, Grumpy!   I had to leave to get my keys from the landlord.   Thanks for letting me crash last night.   Sorry for your sore neck.   Y/N. :)

I face-plant onto the bed with a groan, trying to drown out the hollow emptiness she left behind. Her scent lingers on the pillows, sweet and intoxicating, wrapping around me like a vise. I inhale deeply, the fragrance filling my lungs, but instead of comfort, it brings a gnawing ache. Grumpy... I’m her Grumpy. The thought claws at me, relentless and unyielding.

Monday drags in like a slow, inevitable doom. I sit silently in the lunchroom with Hoseok, who prattles on about the success of the recruitment party. His voice is background noise, barely penetrating my thoughts. Thankfully, he hasn’t asked about Y/N yet.

“So, is Yoonji coming this weekend?” he asks, mid-chew of his sandwich.

“Yes. Friday,” I mutter, my mind elsewhere.

“Awesome! Oh man…” He swallows, excitement clear in his voice. “I can’t wait for next week! Spring Break: no undergrads, the gyms and bars all to ourselves!”

“Is it Spring Break next week?” My voice cracks, surprise jolting me back to reality. I had completely forgotten.

“Yeah!”

Great. My stomach twists with dread. Is Y/N leaving for Spring Break? She probably is, isn’t she? The uneasy feeling intensifies, so I shove a forkful of macaroni into my mouth, trying to silence it.

“What’s up your ass?” Hoseok asks suddenly, narrowing his eyes at me.

I shake my head, dismissing him

. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Seriously?” His disbelief is palpable. “You look like you just downed a bottle of aspirin. Come on, tell me what’s wrong.” 

His eyes are kind, but they only intensify the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. 

I stare down at my plate, willing the irritation to simmer down. He’s my best friend—he deserves to know. But how can I explain this mess? The whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me? 

“Y/N…” I finally murmur, the name tasting foreign on my tongue. 

“Y/N? The girl you were with at the party? What about her?”

“Uh…she crashed here last night. She left this morning to get her keys from the landlord.” I avoid his gaze, my cheeks warming at the admission.

“Dude, that’s awesome!” he grins, elbowing me lightly. “So, you guys are getting serious?”

I scoff, shaking my head. “I don’t know about that.”

Hoseok’s smile falters. “What do you mean? You like her, right?”

“Of course I do!” The admission bursts out before I can stop myself, surprising both of us. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the tide of emotions swelling within me. “But it can’t go anywhere. She’s leaving, Hoseok. She’s probably going to some fancy college or… some fancy job.”

“So? You guys can make it work! Do you want to make it work?”

“I don’t know! I don’t want to hurt her. I can’t…” I trail off, frustration bubbling back to the surface. “I can’t let myself get caught up in this. I’ve worked too hard for my future to throw it all away for her.”

“Wait, what? Throw it all away? You really think you can’t have both? That you can’t just have fun while also focusing on your studies?”

I’m silent, my insides twisting again, a potent mix of anger and sadness at the thought of losing Y/N. “It’s not that simple,” I finally reply.

“Why not? You just told me she crashed here last night! You can’t pretend this doesn’t matter! You can’t keep running from it forever, Yoongi!” His voice rises, frustration spilling over.

“Why are you getting so worked up over this?” I snap, staring at him with incredulity.

“Because I’m sick of seeing you sulk, man!” His hands fly up in exasperation. “You can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t matter! Just tell her how you feel, for fuck’s sake!”

I shake my head, the weight of his words crashing down around me, the walls closing in. I feel suffocated, cornered. “What if she’s not interested? What if I scare her away?”

“Then at least you’ll know! At least you’ll have closure, and you can move on!” 

His voice rings in my ears, echoing through the tangled web of my thoughts. I look down, realizing he’s right. 

I take a deep breath, steadiness creeping back in. “You’re right.” I want to scream. “You’re so right.” But the truth sits heavy on my chest. 

But what if I’m not strong enough to risk everything again? What if I lose her before I ever get to really have her? 

When I get back to the lab, my phone beeps with a new email.

From: Y/N Y/L/N, ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Monday, March 21, 2024, 1:18 PM   To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu

Hey Yoongi,

Is it okay if I miss lab on Tuesday and Wednesday? I have midterms this week before Spring Break, but I promise I’ll make up for the lost time afterward.

Y/N

She’s leaving.

The thought crashes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me under, swirling with anxiety and dread. She won’t even be here this week. The uncertainty gnaws at my insides, promising nothing but torture ahead.

From: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu   Sent: Monday, March 21, 2024, 1:20 PM   To: Y/N Y/L/N, ynyln(at)u(.)washington(.)edu

Fine.

Yoongi Min   PhD Candidate   Kim Lab   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024

It’s official: I fucking hate Spring Break.

As soon as I get home, desperation drives me to call Yoonji. I tell myself it’s to find out when Y/N will be back, but really, I need to spill everything—the kiss, the night Y/N slept in my bed, the haunting thought of her heading to Cabo for Spring Break.

“Yoongi, I just don’t understand,” Yoonji says, her voice cutting through the fog in my mind. I’m sprawled on the couch, head tilted back, an arm draped over my eyes like a shield against reality.

“To be honest, I think what you’re doing is stupid,” she continues, her frustration palpable. “You’re miserable. I can feel it. Why won’t you give yourself a chance to—”

“To what, Yoonji? You remember what happened with Estelle.”

“Please, Estelle was an unsupportive bitch.”

“I don’t even know Y/N that well!” I blurt out, my voice sharper than I intended. The fear of history repeating itself looms over me like a dark cloud.

“Y/N won’t make you choose, Yoongi.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You said she’s incredibly determined, that she loves research even more than you used to. That doesn’t sound like someone who would oppose you continuing on this path.”

“I don’t know, Yoonji.” I sigh, running my hands over my face, feeling the weight of her words settle heavily on my shoulders.

“Give yourself the opportunity to get to know her. Don’t deny yourself the chance to be with her just because you’re afraid to feel something.”

“I’m not afraid of feeling anything,” I snap, though the truth is, I’m drowning in emotions already. “But I’ll be done with the program in a year.”

“So what? A lot can happen in a year. You know that better than anyone.”

I groan, conceding. She’s right. She’s always right.

“You’re hurting. You care about her, Yoongi. Why do you have to be so blind?” Yoonji’s frustration seeps through the phone, and I can almost picture her pacing, running a hand through her hair.

“What do you suggest I do? Ask her out?” I retort, the idea weighing heavily on my mind. “She’s my undergrad! I don’t even know if she’s interested in me.”

“Didn’t you say she kissed you back?”

“Yes. But she also said she didn’t want to jeopardize her experience in the lab.”

“That means she’s smart. You shouldn’t let your feelings affect your work, especially if she’s under you. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a relationship outside of lab.”

The thought of being with Y/N outside those sterile walls sends my heart racing. I lean back against the couch, releasing a shaky breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Have you talked about it again? Have you told her how you feel?” Yoonji presses, her voice softening.

“No. I decided to pretend it never happened.”

“Geez, Yoongi. For such a smart guy, you can be so dense.” Her exasperated sigh echoes in my ears, and I remain silent, letting her words sink in. “You need to talk to her, tell her what’s going on. See what she wants. Tell her what you want.”

Staring at the ceiling, I weigh the possibility of confessing my feelings to Y/N. The prospect terrifies me, yet the urge to be honest gnaws at my insides.

“Yoongi, do you know what you want?” she asks gently.

“Yes. I want to go to sleep.” 

Her frustrated sigh tells me she senses I’m closing off again.

“Do you want to be with her?” she probes softly.

“I’ve never wanted anyone more.”

The truth spills out, raw and unfiltered. Her squeal of excitement on the other end makes me rub my hands on my thighs, trying to contain my nerves.

“Then do yourself a favor and talk to her. I’d bet good money she’s already crazy about you.” Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I find myself considering it more seriously.

We end the call, but sleep eludes me. Images of Y/N in a bikini invade my mind, and there’s no chance of me sleeping tonight.

When I step back into the lab on Thursday after lunch, I’m completely unprepared for the sight of Y/N. She’s there, smiling, and it catches me off guard, my heart racing like it’s just run a marathon. I thought she’d be gone by now, off to live her Spring Break fantasies. My mind has been a battlefield all week, flooded with images of her carefree adventures. Googling “Spring Break activities” had been a catastrophic mistake.

She’s not in her usual lab coat today; instead, she’s wearing a fitted sweater that hugs her figure just right, the V-neck revealing a tantalizing hint of her collarbones. The dark fabric contrasts beautifully with her pale skin, and my imagination betrays me, picturing that skin in a bikini. All I can see is red.

Thankfully, Jimin is nowhere in sight.

“I thought you had better things to do this week,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended as I walk past her, heading toward my desk.

“What do you mean?” Her smile vanishes, replaced by confusion.

“I didn’t know you were coming today. I don’t have time for this.” I wave my hand dismissively, trying to suppress the storm brewing inside me.

“For what? I—I don’t understand.”

These lies spill from my mouth uncontrollably. “Honestly, Y/N, sometimes I think you’re just here for the credits. This isn’t how science works. You need to be consistent.” My voice rises, and I see her flinch.

“Why are you yelling at me? Is this because I missed two days? I’m sorry, Yoongi. I had to study. I promise I’ll make up for it.”

I rub my forehead, frustration clawing at my insides. I know this isn’t her fault, but the anger bubbles over. “Have fun on Spring Break,” I grit out as I storm past her, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Yoongi?” she calls after me, but I keep walking, desperate for fresh air. The cool spring breeze feels like a lifeline, and I gulp it in, trying to calm the chaos inside me. I can’t keep doing this. This is madness.

I don’t get far before I hear Y/N’s voice again, breathless and firm. “Yoongi, what’s the matter with you?” I hadn’t realized she’d followed me. I turn around, and there she is—confused, hurt, and heartbreakingly beautiful.

There’s no point in pretending anymore. I can’t keep up the facade. “I don’t think you really want to know, Y/N.” I run a hand down my face, trying to keep my composure.

She crosses her arms, waiting, an expectant look in her eyes.

“I fucking hate Spring Break, okay? I hate the thought of you parading around with some frat losers, being young, drunk, and reckless. I hate it. I hate all of it.”

Her expression shifts from confusion to understanding, and she relaxes, placing her hands on her hips. A corner of her mouth quirks up. “What are you talking about?”

Is she seriously smirking?

“I’m talking about you going to Cabo San Lucas for Spring Break.”

“Who said I was going to Cabo?” Now she’s fully smiling.

“I don’t know, I just assumed… aren’t you all?” I mumble, embarrassed.

“You have some serious misconceptions about undergrads, Yoongi. We’re not all the same. And that’s not me at all.”

“So you’re not going away for Spring Break?” I ask, still staring at my feet, not wanting to look her in the eye.

“No, I’m not. I was actually looking forward to spending more time in the lab, making up for this week.”

Relief floods through me, but it’s tangled with a crushing sense of shame. “You’re not going away? You’re staying here?” My voice is barely a whisper.

“Yes. That’s what I said.”

I stagger back, feeling like an idiot. I can’t believe I snapped at her like that. As my anger fades, embarrassment rushes in, making my knees feel weak. I might seriously pass out.

“Yoongi? Are you all right?”

I let out a humorless laugh. No, I’m not all right. This is too much.

She steps closer, and I know I won’t be able to resist kissing her if she comes any nearer. I lift my hand in warning and take another step back.

“Yoongi?” Ignoring my gesture, she moves closer and stands right in front of me.

I close my eyes, the truth spilling out uncontrollably. “All I could think about was some punk with his shirt off, a baseball cap on backward, shoving beer down your throat... and it made me want to murder someone.” My hand clutches my chest, heart racing.

She giggles—at my agony? My eyes snap open, and her smile fades under my intense stare. “These past few days have been torture,” I continue. “I can’t get you out of my mind. All I can think about is you—your lips on mine, your legs around my waist. You drive me insane, Y/N. I can’t think straight.”

Y/N’s eyes shine with emotion, and she closes the distance between us, resting her head against my chest. My hand instinctively finds its way to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. She pulls away slightly, and I lift her chin with two fingers, forcing her to meet my gaze. Her eyes glisten, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, cheeks flushed a delicate pink.

When our lips touch, the electric current between us is undeniable. I close my eyes, exhaling through my nose, and cup her face, my thumb brushing her ear, fingers caressing her neck. Y/N grips my shirt, pulling herself closer. When my tongue slips into her mouth, a moan escapes me at the sweetness of her taste.

I can’t stay away from her anymore. I’m not strong enough.

Y/N wraps a hand around my neck, pulling me even closer. My hand travels down her back, wrapping tightly around her waist. I know she can feel my arousal pressing against her, but I don’t care. When she whimpers against my mouth, I know she feels the same.

Is it possible she’s been yearning for this as much as I have? 

Tell her what you want, Min.

“Y/N, wait.” I gently push her back, keeping one hand on her face. She stumbles slightly, holding onto my arm, looking dazed. “I don’t want this to be another kiss you regret. I don’t want you to be swept away by the moment. I want… I want more.”

She gapes at me, panting.

“I’m sorry I’m being so blunt, but I can’t hide this anymore.” I drop my hands to my sides and step back.

“What are you trying to say, Yoongi?” Her confusion is evident.

“What I’m trying to say is that I want to see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I-I think I can come in the afternoon between classes.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N! Would you listen to me? I don’t need you to come to the lab. I want to see you outside of the lab.”

I pinch my nose, trying to calm down, afraid my intensity will scare her away.

“Oh…”

“My cousin is coming to visit. We’re all going out for drinks. Do you want to come with me?”

She looks at me, and then she nods. “Okay.”

Okay… she said yes. Oh my god, she said yes.

I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry I snapped at you like that.”

“I know,” she replies, giving me a small grin that weakens my knees. My hand reaches for her face again, addicted to the softness of her skin as I brush her hair behind her ear and stroke her cheek. She stares into my eyes, cheeks burning, and I’m debating whether to kiss her again when I see Jin’s car pull into the parking lot, and I drop my hand immediately.

Shit…

Y/N glances back and sees Jin getting out of his car.

“I should go study, then…” She looks back at me, and I nod, feeling a mix of regret and anticipation. “I’ll catch you later. Call me about tomorrow.” She brushes a timid finger down my arm before turning to leave.

I stay outside for a few more minutes, gathering my thoughts and waiting for my heart to calm down. 

I did it. I asked Y/N out... sort of.

Now what?

Yoonji had turned into a shadow in my apartment, trailing me as I prepared for what felt like the most important night of my life. “Have you been using that stubble trimmer I got you?” she asked, her fingers grazing my jaw as if she were assessing a work of art. 

I nodded, feeling uneasy under her watchful gaze. Deep down, I was already regretting the group date we had planned. The thought of going out with Y/N sent my heart racing; adding my cousin and a few friends into the mix felt like a cosmic joke, and I was definitely the punchline. 

As I rifled through my chaotic closet, I tried to tune her out, running my fingers through my damp hair in a futile attempt to calm my nerves. 

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Leave it to Yoonji to treat every moment like a Broadway performance. I shot her a glare, barely suppressing my frustration as I swept past her in search of my jacket. 

“You’re wearing a polo shirt?” she challenged, disbelief lacing her tone. 

“What’s wrong with a polo shirt?” I snapped, slapping my hands against my thighs in exasperation. The anxiety gnawed at me, and her judgment only fueled the fire. 

Yoonji stepped closer, her expression softening. “Yoongi, my oblivious cousin, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that polo shirt. As long as it doesn’t have holes in it.” 

Relief washed over me like a tide, momentarily pushing my worries aside. I had never cared much for her opinion on my wardrobe; that had never mattered before. But tonight? It wasn’t Yoonji’s approval I craved—it was Y/N’s. I wanted to be more than the cynical grad student she saw in class.

“You look great,” Yoonji said, her smile coaxing a small, reluctant grin from me in return. “If just thinking about her has you acting like this nervous mess, I already know I’m going to love her.”

Yoonji had made it clear she’d ride with Hoseok and Serena so I could pick up Y/N alone. Now, I found myself parked outside her building, panic clawing at my insides. My palms felt clammy as I smoothed them over my thighs, my heart thumping violently against my ribs, and my mouth was desert-dry. It had been ages since I’d done anything like this. Estelle and I had never ventured out much together; I had buried myself in my studies while she lived her own life, leaving me utterly out of practice.

Despite the storm of anxiety raging within me, excitement bubbled up as I thought of Yoonji, Hoseok, and even Serena meeting Y/N. They needed to see how extraordinary she was—smart, caring, and hilariously funny. What thrilled me most was the prospect of spending time with Y/N outside the sterile confines of our lab, engaging with her as something more than just colleagues.

I banged my head against the steering wheel a few times, trying to settle my frayed nerves. My heart leaped when a knock on the window broke through my spiraling thoughts. There she was—Y/N, standing outside with that bright smile and a wave. I quickly unlocked the door, feeling like an utter fool. 

“Hey…” she said as she slid into the car. 

“I’m sorry. I was going to get you. Just… got distracted,” I admitted, feeling like an idiot for letting her down.

“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “Better this way anyway. I didn’t want Jess to see us.”

“Jess?” The name floated through my mind, familiar yet vague—wasn’t she the one from Y/N’s sleep ramblings? The one with the boat?

“Jessica, my roommate,” she explained. “She was in your class last year, and she knows I’m working in your lab… so I don’t want any rumors spreading, you know?”

“My class?” I felt disbelief surge within me. How could this be?

“Intro to Micro. Last Fall. You were our T.A.,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What?” 

“We were both in your class,” she added, unfazed by my shock.

“I was your T.A. last year?”

“Yes.” 

“Are you sure it was me?” I grasped at straws. How could I have overlooked her?

She turned toward me, eyebrow raised in that cute way she had. “Oh, I’m sure.” 

“I’m so sorry,” I blurted out. How could I have forgotten her? 

“It’s okay. You keep to yourself. I get it.” 

“Do we know each other from anywhere else?” My worry twisted into a knot. Had I brushed past her countless times, completely blind to her presence? 

So much time wasted. How incredibly foolish of me.

“Just that class in the fall. Unless you count all the times I waved at you at the gym or smiled at you every Saturday as you passed by my table at the library after getting your coffee.” 

She had been right there all along, and I had missed her completely.

“Shit, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I’ve been such an idiot!” I pounded the heel of my hand against my forehead a few times, embarrassment crashing over me.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Y/N reached for my hand, gently pulling it away from my face.

“No, it’s not. I was completely blind… and I feel like I’ve wasted so much time.” 

“Well, I’m here now…” She smiled, releasing my hand.

“You are.” 

“And you can see me now, right?” 

“You’re all I see now…” The truth swelled in my chest, echoing through me. Y/N was all that mattered, the only one who could unravel this tangled mess of a heart I had. 

“You see?” she said, clasping her hands over her lap. “When you say stuff like that, it makes it really hard to believe you can be such a grump.” She smiled, a shy yet bold thing, and my instinct was to lean in and kiss her, but I tamped down my urge for the sake of the group date.

“Well, no need to worry. I’m still very much a grump.” I offered a wry smile, taking a deep breath. “Shall we do this?” 

Y/N nodded, and I started the car. 

I didn’t mind being a grump, as long as I could be her grump.

When we pulled up to the bar, I rushed to open Y/N's door, but of course, she was already climbing out by the time I reached her side. My gaze landed on the exposed skin of her collarbones, the freckles scattered across her chest—how had I missed them in the car?

Her white top hung loosely on her frame, the neckline dipping low enough to reveal just a hint too much. Luckily, she wore something underneath, but the sheer fabric let me catch glimpses of her silhouette. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who noticed—some guy outside was staring at her like she was the last meal on earth. My hand found her lower back as I guided her inside, urgency propelling me forward.

Hoseok, Yoonji, and Serena were already at a table, and when Yoonji spotted us, her face lit up like it was Christmas morning. I half-expected her to pull out a camera.

“Y/N, this is my cousin, Yoonji. Yoonji, this is Y/N.” Before I could finish my introduction, Yoonji sprang to her feet.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed, pulling Y/N into an enthusiastic embrace. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she cast me a cheeky grin. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“Yoonji, calm down,” I thought, but I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. 

“Nice to meet you too, Yoonji,” Y/N replied, her sweetness radiating like a warm glow.

“And you’ve already met Hoseok and Serena.” I gestured to the other two goofballs, who were now staring at Y/N like she was some kind of celestial being.

“Hi, Y/N! How’s life in the undergraduate world?” Hoseok teased as I pulled out a chair for her.

“Lotta drinking, lotta partying… you know, same old, same old.” Y/N shrugged, grinning, and I could see she had already charmed Hoseok.

“So… let’s get to the important stuff.” Hoseok waved a hand at me, a smirk growing on his face. I knew it wouldn’t take long for the teasing to kick in. I rolled my eyes.

“Oh! I know! Yoongi is wearing a polo shirt,” Serena piped up.

“I guess hell froze over, baby,” Hoseok snorted.

“I completely approve, by the way,” Yoonji chimed in, not even bothering to glance my way.

Here we go. I was about to shoot them all a glare when Y/N’s gentle touch on my thigh sent my heart soaring. My eyes darted to hers—she wore a smile that made everything else fade away.

“The cologne… maybe a tad too much?” I heard Serena say.

“Hey, I suggested that!” Yoonji shot back.

The banter continued, but I was lost in Y/N’s gaze, enchanted by the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled at me. The world around us dimmed; it was just her fingers entwined with mine, brushing softly against my palm, the gentle caress of her thumb sending shivers down my spine.

A moment too soon, Y/N turned to address the others. “Why do you guys talk about him like he’s not in the room?” Her words hung in the air, stunning everyone into silence.

I couldn’t believe it. In less than an hour, she had managed to charm my friends while cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

“Well, you’re with him now,” Yoonji finally said, a sly smile creeping across her face. “It’s our job to protect you.”

I would have preferred they protect me from their embarrassing stories, but Y/N seemed to revel in it.

“Protect me from what?” she asked, laughter bubbling in her voice.

“His awful sense of humor,” Serena said, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Okay, I’m warning you,” I said, grinning back. “You may want to turn around and leave right now.”

Y/N giggled, clearly enjoying herself.

“Hey, if you leave me now, I’m going to assume you’re all crazy,” she said, her smile wide and infectious. 

I couldn’t help but smile back, knowing this night was going to be unforgettable.

As night settled over us, the world transformed into a playground of laughter and playful banter, wrapped in a soft, velvety blanket. The drinks flowed like a tide, and my heart raced with the electric thrill of the evening. I watched Y/N mingle with my friends, and in that moment, something inside me sparked to life, hinting at possibilities I had yet to explore.

I leaned closer, our shoulders brushing, a daring move that sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “What are you doing to me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Just being me,” she replied, her tone light, but the glimmer in her eyes suggested deeper currents.

“Can I hold your hand?” The request slipped from my lips, fragile as a moth's wing.

Surprise flickered across her face as she weighed my words. “Yes.”

The moment our fingers intertwined, warmth rushed through me, narrowing my focus to the electric connection between us. In the distance, Hoseok's teasing banter continued, and Yoonji was lost in conversation with Serena, but they faded into the background. All that mattered was Y/N and the magnetic pull that bound us together.

Yoonji’s voice broke through my reverie. "I'm staying with Em and Serena tonight," she whispered in my ear.

“Yoonji, you don’t need to—”

“Nonsense!” she insisted, her grin stretching wide. “I love her,” she mouthed as she walked away, and I couldn’t help but smile, glancing down at Y/N.

“Oh, you’re not coming with us?” Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Nope! I need to help Serena pick an outfit for tomorrow. It was really nice to meet you, Y/N. I hope to see you soon!” Yoonji hugged her again, whispering something I couldn’t catch.

Before long, Y/N and I were walking toward my car. I opened the door for her, and she smiled as she slid in. As I drove to her apartment, she asked about Yoonji and our bond. I shared how I moved in with them when I was thirteen, how we’d become like siblings, grateful she didn’t pry into the reasons behind it. Tonight wasn’t the time for shadows of my past.

A comfortable silence fell between us, an unspoken acknowledgment of the fleeting moments we shared. Soon, we arrived in front of her building, and reality crashed in—I was running out of time.

“Can I be honest?” she asked, her voice breaking the silence like a warm breeze.

“Please… always.”

“I don’t want to go home just yet.” She looked at me through her lashes, and my heart raced, a wild beat echoing in my chest.

“Can I be honest too?” I asked, inching closer.

She nodded, biting her lip.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” I leaned in slightly.

Her breath hitched, and she let out a soft sigh. “Can I? Kiss you?” My voice was barely audible, filled with anticipation.

She nodded once, a small smile lighting up her face. I reached for her, brushing her hair back before gently cupping the nape of her neck and pulling her closer.

Our kiss started softly, exploring each other with tentative tenderness. But it quickly grew desperate, fueled by a hunger we could no longer deny. Her hand gripped my shirt, pulling me closer—just as eager. I let my hands roam, one resting on her thigh while the other tangled in her hair, my heart racing with every heartbeat.

“Y/N…” I breathed against her neck, fighting to maintain control. “You need to go inside now, or I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go.”

“Why don’t you come inside with me?” She pulled my face from her neck, her eyes shimmering with mischief and warmth. “Jessica should be gone by now. It’s Spring Break, remember? I might be the only undergrad left.”

The invitation hung in the air, electric and intoxicating. She wanted me to come home with her. Alone. My mind raced as I followed her into her cozy apartment, a space filled with personal touches and the inviting scent of vanilla.

“Welcome to Casa de Jess and Y/N!” she announced, her excitement infectious. “Do you want a tour, Mister?”

I grinned at her playful spirit. “If you’d be so kind, Madam.”

With exaggerated politeness, she led me through her apartment, showing off each room like a proud hostess. “And this is my bedroom.” When she opened the door, my breath caught. It looked like a whimsical explosion of color—pink and feathers everywhere, a bright pink comforter proclaiming “Little Princess” in white letters.

“Oh dear God…” I muttered, glancing around.

“What do you think?” she asked, a hint of seriousness in her tone.

I scratched my neck, searching for the right words. “Um… well… interesting choice of colors, Y/N.”

She burst into laughter, the sound bright and carefree, and I looked at her, puzzled.

“Oh my God! Your face! Priceless!” she exclaimed, doubling over in giggles. “This is Jessica's room!” She laughed so hard she had to lean against the doorframe for support.

“Oh thank God…” I exhaled in relief. “I don’t think I could sleep in here without having nightmares.” I leaned against the doorframe, smiling at the chaos.

But then, her expression shifted from playful to serious as she stepped closer. “Do you expect to be sleeping in my bed anytime soon, Mr. Min?”

“Shit… no… I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” I ran a hand through my hair, mortified.

“Hey…” She stepped between my legs, her hand resting on my chest. “I was joking.” She smiled up at me, and my heart raced. I wanted her, needed her, craved her.

I traced her lip with my thumb. “You know what’s the first thing I noticed about you, Y/N?” She shook her head, her gaze locked on mine. “Your smile… It’s beautiful.”

Her smile widened. “When you smile, you get all gummy and your face softens. Your teeth are small, too. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable? Here I am, telling you I love your smile, and you tell me mine is imperfect. I’m hurt,” I joked, placing a hand over my heart.

“It’s not imperfect. It’s crooked and mind-blowingly sexy.” She giggled, and I couldn’t help but snort.

“See? There it is.” She framed my face with her hands and pulled me into a kiss. Her lips were soft, and I tried to crouch down to level us, but it felt awkward. Instead, I lifted her by the waist, her legs wrapping around my hips. Y/N’s arms encircled my neck as she deepened the kiss. When her tongue slipped into my mouth, I moaned, pressing her against the doorframe where laughter had just echoed.

My breath came in desperate gasps as I pulled away, kissing along her neck, but the fire ignited within me burned too bright to resist. Her whimpers drove me wild, and there was only so much I could take.

“Next door to the left,” she whispered in my ear.

Holy shit…

I carried her to her bedroom, still wrapped around me. As soon as I opened the door, her scent enveloped me, divine and overwhelming. Trying to stay composed, I ended up slumping onto the bed with her. She squealed and giggled, pulling off my polo shirt. Her hand traced patterns on my chest, making me shudder.

Every cell in my body was on high alert, every touch amplified.

"Y/N…" I groaned when her fingers traced the button-fly of my jeans. "You make me feel like a fucking teenager."

She giggled as my lips found hers. Her hand slipped into my boxers, and when she grasped me, I groaned loudly into her lips. She stroked me tentatively, softly but firmly. After a few strokes, it was too much.

"Y/N, stop… please," I begged, panting into her neck. "I’m going to cum in your hand. I need to slow down."

"Sorry." She released me, sighing. "Too much… too soon?"

"Yes… No… I-I just need a minute." I pressed my forehead into her neck, trying to regain control.

"Okay," she whispered, her hand returning to my hair.

My hands found their way under her shirt, pulling it off. The sight of her, arms stretched above her head, devilish smile on her lips, took my breath away.

"Polkadots?" I teased as her hands flew to my neck, pulling me back into a kiss. Her kisses were eager, biting and pulling at my lip, straining my self-control.

I kissed her neck, my hand slipping under her back. "God, you are so beautiful…" I whispered, unclasping her bra.

Her bra off, I trailed kisses from her neck to her chest, my hands cupping her breasts. Y/N squirmed under me, her moans driving me crazy.

"Can I touch you now?" Her voice was raspy with desire.

"Not yet," I whispered, unbuttoning her jeans.

"Not fair…" she moaned as my fingers dipped into her panties.

My fingers found nothing but wetness, silkiness, and smoothness, a tantalizing blend that drove me wild with anticipation. My dick throbbed painfully as I ground against her leg, barely able to contain myself any longer.

“God, Y/N…” I murmured, my voice a strained whisper.

She whimpered beneath me, her body trembling as my fingers traced circles to pleasure her. I slipped one finger inside, then another, and her scream of my name filled the room, echoing in my ears like a symphony of ecstasy. The sheer joy of her response made me want to cry into her neck.

“Yoongi, please…” she panted, her hands pulling at my hair, desperate. “I want to touch you… please… I need to feel you.”

God…

In one swift move, I had Y/N completely naked beneath me, her chest heaving with gasps. I fumbled for the condom in my wallet, and in mere seconds, I was naked too, hovering over her. Wrapping her wrist in my hand, I guided her to touch me—every inch of me.

Her hand clasped around me, guiding me to her entrance, spreading her wetness. I kept one hand on her breast, the other gripping the blanket next to her face, my control slipping with every passing second. Our eyes locked, the intensity between us palpable.

“Yoongi, what are we doing?” Her hand still gripped me, her voice a mix of wonder and worry.

“God… I don’t know…” I panted, my forehead resting on her neck.

“Is this wrong?”

“Feels right to me.” I groaned into her shoulder as she increased the pressure with her hand.

“I mean… isn’t this against the rules?”

How could she be coherent right now? I was on the brink of losing it, and I wasn’t even inside her yet!

“I-I don’t know, Y/N… Honestly, the rules are very blurry right now.”

“I want you,” she whispered huskily into my ear.

“God, Y/N. I want you too… so fucking much.”

“Would we get in trouble for this?” Her voice held a clear note of worry.

I lifted my head to meet her gaze. “I don’t know… I don’t care… Do you?”

Please, please, please, don’t ask me to stop now. Please…

She shook her head, pulling my face closer to hers in a kiss, positioning herself for me to enter her.

Thank you, God.

Our eyes stayed locked as our bodies connected, the sensation of being surrounded by her utterly mind-blowing. I needed a moment to adjust, Y/N’s moans and the arch of her back driving me insane as I slowly reached the deepest part of her.

I pulled out as slowly as I could manage, then pushed back in. My eyes rolled back, hands gripping her hips, a moan escaping through my clenched jaw. Nothing in my life had ever compared to this, to being with her. No one came even close.

Our bodies moved in sync, and a new terror gripped me: the fear of not lasting long enough to satisfy her. I sought distractions in her breasts, her neck, her lips, but every part of her only turned me on more.

So, I distracted myself mentally, reciting the first thing that came to mind:

There’s antimony, arsenic, aluminum, selenium… And hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium... And nickel, neodymium, neptunium, germanium… And iron, americium, ruthenium, uranium…

The words spun through my mind, a desperate attempt to hold onto control, as I plunged deeper into the intoxicating feeling of her.

It's Tuesday morning, and the sun hasn't even thought about rising yet. The lab calls out to me with its endless list of tasks, each one promising that today won't be long enough to tackle them all. I feel exhausted, bone-deep weary from days that have been both draining and, honestly, the best of my life.

Y/N and I spent the weekend wrapped up in each other, mostly on her bed or the couch. It’s a novel experience for me—taking a break from work on a weekend—but I still managed to squeeze in some research: exploring every inch of Y/N’s body, learning her curves, her soft spots, and the way she sighs when she’s lost in the moment. I’m hopelessly addicted, and I doubt I’ll ever get enough.

In between those moments of passion, she opened up about her family, her childhood, and the accident that changed everything. I kept my past hidden, deflecting the conversation back to her with more questions. I learned that I influenced her decision to join Jin’s lab; she remembered me from my time as her oblivious T.A. I teased her about being a little stalker, but the truth is, I loved hearing her talk.

Y/N could chatter for hours, and more surprisingly, I found that I could listen willingly and happily. She’s an amazing cook, and with each passing day, she feels more and more like a miracle. I kept adding to my mental list of quirky Y/N facts: her underwear is never a solid color—always striped or patterned, like the bra with little pineapples. She re-watches movies until she knows the dialogue by heart. When she made me watch a film about the Titanic, I laughed when I thought it was a documentary. After that, I decided against any sailing plans.

But Monday brought a harsh return to reality. Seeing her in the lab, just out of reach, was torture—pun intended. She wanted to dive into her experiments, and since I skipped the lab all weekend, I had a mountain of work to tackle. We managed to keep things professional, but the tension in the air was thick. Monday nights were reserved for her family’s Skype calls, leaving me alone, tossing and turning in my bed, missing her like crazy.

As I trudged through the hallways, still groggy, I spotted Y/N sitting by the lab door. With her earphones in, she was bobbing her head, lost in her own world. The moment she saw me, she pulled them out, a broad smile lighting up her face.

I swear I’ll never tire of that smile…

“God, Y/N. What are you doing here so early?” I grumble, struggling to match her morning cheer.

“I couldn’t sleep! I’m dying to see if the experiment worked!” she exclaims, bouncing on her toes.

Of course…

“Mhm” I mumble, fumbling for the keys. 

“It’s nerve-racking! A whole day of work, then waiting sixteen hours—sixteen hours!—to see the results?” 

The key sticks in the lock, and I jiggle it impatiently. 

“C’mon, c’mon…” she chants, practically bouncing.

“Y/N…” I groan, turning to her. “I haven’t had coffee yet. Would you calm down?”

Finally, the door clicks open, and she bolts inside, nearly tripping over me. She rushes straight to the incubator, while I drag myself to my desk, her excited chants of “YES! YES! YES!” echoing behind me.

I can’t help but snort. I guess her experiment worked.

She sets the petri dishes on the bench, and her squeal of delight fills the room. “They worked!” she cries, launching herself at me. I barely catch her as she wraps her legs around my waist.

How does she have this much energy? It’s not even eight yet!

“Jesus Christ, woman! What are you on this morning?” 

Her arms encircle my neck, and she beams at me, making my own lips twitch upward.

“Hi, Grumpy.” She runs a hand through my hair.

“Hi…”

“Good morning.”

“Morning, Y/N.”

Her lips find mine, and I’m a goner. I moan into her mouth as she tugs at my hair, ready to take her right there on the bench, on the floor—anywhere. But we’re in the lab.

“Y/N…” I whisper, kissing her neck.

“Hmmm?”

“Someone might come in.” I nibble her earlobe, making her squirm.

“It’s early,” she whispers, her voice husky as she pulls at my hair. 

God…

I set her down on the bench, clumsily knocking over some plates. “Shit... sorry.” I try to pick them up, but she’s pulling at my jeans, pressing herself against me, and I make a bigger mess.

“Did you touch my samples?” she asks, feigning anger, echoing my words from when I snapped at her earlier.

I smile, but the way she bites her lip and the hooded look in her eyes snaps my resolve. My lips crash into hers, and my hands slide under her shirt as I press her back onto the bench, scattering more plates.

Fuck, I’m going to ruin her experiment.

I lift her, her legs locking around my waist. I mean to move her to the unused bench behind me, but her grinding against me messes with my balance. I knock over a chair, slamming my back against the corner of the bench. Groaning in pain, I secure her in my arms.

“Are you okay?” 

The pain clears my head. Reality rushes back, and I realize what we’re about to do—in the lab, on a Tuesday morning, when anyone could walk in.

Just then, I hear rattling keys from the hallway.

Fuck…

I set Y/N down, and she stumbles. I steady her, stepping back just as Jimin walks in.

Y/N smooths her shirt, picking up plates, her face a vivid crimson. I run a hand through my hair, rubbing my sore back with the other. The pain is nothing compared to the throbbing in my pants, but there’s no fixing that now.

Jimin looks at us, eyebrows raised, then heads to his desk. I let out a sigh, glancing at Y/N—she’s still picking up plates, cheeks burning.

Could we be any more obvious?

Y/N and I were deep in conversation about her results, our voices low enough that Jimin, across the lab, pretended not to be listening. Y/N’s work was nothing short of exceptional, and while pride swelled within me, I needed to keep it grounded in reality. Success like this was rare; she needed to understand its value, to cherish it, but also to brace for the inevitable setbacks.

“Are you familiar with Murphy’s Law?” I asked as she finished jotting down her notes.

“Of course,” she replied, turning to face me, her eyes sparkling. “Did you know his first name was Edward?”

“What? No.” Murphy, as far as I was concerned, was just Murphy.

“Yep. Edward Murphy,” she said, her face serious as she began tidying up her workspace.

“You’re kidding,” I said, moving closer, disbelief evident in my voice.

“Nope.”

“How do you know that?”

“I watch Jeopardy a lot.” A small, embarrassed smile tugged at her lips as our eyes met.

“Why am I not surprised?” I muttered, watching her shrug off her lab coat. Her movements were effortlessly captivating.

“Were you going to say something about Murphy?” she asked, snapping me out of my daze.

“Yeah, right,” I said, shaking off the distraction. “Murphy’s Law applies to the lab too.”

“Oh, I know. ‘Everything that can go wrong will go wrong,’” she recited, her tone matter-of-fact.

“Exactly.” I nodded, impressed.

“But I don’t believe in that,” she said firmly, a spark of defiance lighting her features.

“Of course you don’t.” I had inched closer, almost beside her now.

She gestured toward her successful experiment, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. “Murphy was just a pessimist.”

“And you’re a glass-half-full kind of person?” I probed, towering over her with a teasing grin.

“Technically, the glass is always full. Half with water, half with air.” Her eyes crinkled with mischief.

“Are you trying to be a smart ass?” I leaned my elbow on the bench, bringing us face to face.

“That depends,” she said, her voice dropping, locking her gaze onto mine. 

“On what?”

“Do you like smart asses?” She traced a finger along my forearm, sending an electric jolt through my body.

I staggered back, giving her a warning look. She couldn’t be doing this to me—not now.

“Anyway,” she continued, taking a deep breath, “how many of Murphy’s laws do you know?”

Classic Y/N—always one step ahead. I sighed, admitting, “Just the one.”

“That’s it?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Enlighten me, then.”

“‘Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse,’” she recited proudly, and I found her knowledge oddly attractive.

A glance at the clock reminded me of the work ahead. How inconvenient.

“That’s a good one. And it’s true,” I said.

“‘Matter will be damaged in direct proportion to its value,’” she continued.

I chuckled. “Also true.”

“Yoongi, you’re one of the grumpiest, most pessimistic people I know, and you don’t know any of these?” She placed her hands on her hips, teasing me with that playful spark in her eyes.

That was it. I straightened from the bench, glaring at her. She was provoking me, and God, did I want her.

“Last one, I promise,” she said with a smile. “’Hot glass looks exactly the same as cold glass.’ Learned that one the hard way.”

Our laughter mingled until Jimin cleared his throat behind us. “Can you keep it down? I’m trying to do science here.”

I rolled my eyes at Jimin, then turned back to Y/N, who was smoothing her ponytail, giggles subsiding. Her happiness was infectious, and I got lost in her eyes.

“Y/N,” I said, struggling to keep my voice even, “we should check on that gel.”

“What gel?” she asked, puzzled.

“The gel, Y/N.” I stared at her, hoping she’d understand.

“Oh… right,” she said, her smile turning knowing.

I followed her to the dark room, anticipation thrumming in my veins. Once inside, I switched off the lights, activating the IN USE signal. Y/N took a sharp breath, her excitement palpable.

“Are you trying to drive me mad?” I whispered, reaching for her face in the darkness.

“Maybe,” she whispered back, her breath warm against my skin.

My hands traveled to her neck, fingers sliding under her ponytail to release her hair. “Y/N… this isn’t smart. We could get caught.” I lifted her onto the counter, the cold bench pressing into my back.

“Not smart,” she agreed, her breath hitching against my neck.

“Do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you when you provoke me?” My hand slipped under her shirt, cupping her breast. She gasped, and I pressed myself closer, making my point clear.

“Oh, it’s hard all right,” she giggled, wrapping her legs around me.

“You drive me insane, Y/N,” I murmured, biting her lip. She moaned softly, fisting my hair. “Please… can I?”

“Oh God, yes… Yoongi, please.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. I lifted her with one hand, fumbling with the buttons of her jeans with the other. In seconds, I was inside her, stifling my moans into her shoulder.

God bless a dark room.

The weeks drift by in a blur of lab work and secret rendezvous. Y/N is a constant distraction—she teases me, contradicts me, drives me mad, excites me, motivates me, and challenges me all at once. I’ve never felt happier. Having her in my life has transformed my days from monotonous routines into a whirlwind of laughter and unexpected joy. I catch myself cracking jokes that aren’t laced with sarcasm, and I genuinely enjoy explaining new techniques to her, savoring our discussions and her insightful challenges. I never imagined mentoring could be so thrilling—or so fulfilling. Y/N pushes me to be better, to be happier, to have fun.

The lab buzzes with the unspoken tension of our secret. I’m sure everyone suspects something, but we maintain a facade of professionalism. Our attempts to date outside the lab are constantly thwarted by inconvenient encounters with colleagues. It’s frustrating as hell. I don’t care what people think, but the risk of getting into trouble with Jin or Y/N losing her chance to work in the lab keeps us cautious. So, we play the game, keeping up appearances, even though we’ve stolen away to the dark room eight times… not that I’m counting.

As the semester winds down, it becomes harder to heed Yoonji’s advice not to overthink the future. Y/N hopes to land a summer internship in the lab, but I haven’t had the heart to tell her how unlikely that is. Jin has never offered an internship after just one semester. I could vouch for her, but she’s adamant about not wanting special treatment. The thought of her securing an internship elsewhere, leaving for the summer, gnaws at me. The impending separation looms like a dark cloud, promising a long and miserable summer.

Tonight, Jin is hosting the department's end-of-semester party. I sit in my car, ready to drive Y/N there, trying to suppress my annoyance at having to pretend all night. We’re picking up Hoseok and Serena too, a cover to avoid suspicion. Waiting in the car like some kind of creep, I watch the building's entrance.

Then I see her, and all my irritation dissipates. Thank God for May weather—Y/N is wearing a skirt. She smiles at me through the window, and as she gets in, her lips meet mine, her hands finding their way to my neck. I encircle her waist, breathing in deeply, savoring her scent. Even after two months, my need for her is as urgent as ever.

“Hi…” she breathes as she pulls back, her fingers tracing patterns in my hair. I close my eyes, enjoying her touch.

“Hi…” I murmur, resting my forehead against hers. “You’re wearing a skirt.” I groan, my hand sliding down from her waist, over her thigh, and under the soft fabric.

“I am,” she says, her lips brushing my neck. I tease her inner thigh, each stroke inching closer to where I want my fingers to be. “What are you doing?” she whispers in my ear.

“I don’t want to go to this thing.” I nibble her earlobe. “Can we just stay here?” My fingers hover over her panties, but she traps my hand between her thighs.

“No…” she breathes, her voice shaky. “You promised we’d go. Jin invited me personally. Please.”

Her plea makes me relent, and I move back, our foreheads still touching. “But you’re wearing a skirt. You know what that does to me?” I caress her thigh again, unable to resist.

“I have an idea,” she giggles.

“I’m going to be hard and uncomfortable the whole time,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.

“I’ll take care of it afterward,” she promises. I groan again, starting the car.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

As I drive, Y/N fumbles with the radio, displeased with the music.

“Oh, I know!” She reaches for the glove box. “Can we listen to this?” She holds up my mom’s Carpenters CD.

My chest tightens, but I try to smile. I haven’t told her about my parents, and while she knows I moved in with my aunt and uncle as a kid, she hasn’t pried. She’s giving me time, waiting for me to open up.

“Not a chance,” I snap, slipping into our usual banter.

“C’mon, I want to listen to it.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Why have a Carpenters CD if you don’t like them?”

“Y/N…”

I really don’t want to get into it tonight.

“Just one song, please?” Her eager eyes and smile make it impossible to refuse. I nod, focusing on the road. She opens the case and sees my mom’s note, and my chest tightens again.

“Oh…” she says softly. “You didn’t want me to see this.” She closes the case. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. Just put the CD on. It’s fine.”

“No, Yoongi. This obviously has sentimental value. I’m sorry.” Concern etches her features.

“Hey, don’t be upset.” I reach for her face, my thumb brushing her cheek. “Let’s forget it. I’ll tell you about the note another time. Okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, eyes locked on mine.

“It’s fine.” I smile, pushing thoughts of my parents away. I grab my iPod, knowing exactly what will cheer her up. When The Police starts playing, her smile returns, and all feels right in the world.

I place my hand over hers on her thigh, the sensation of the skirt fabric under our intertwined fingers reminding me of the night ahead.

Oh God, the skirt, the party… this is going to be hell.

“Hey, Y/N! Ready to mingle with the senior citizens?” Hoseok’s voice cuts through the chatter as he hops into the car and settles behind me.

“So, what’s the plan?” Serena chimes in, sliding into the backseat beside Y/N.

“Can we please keep this low-key? We’re just giving Y/N a ride, nothing more,” I say, trying to keep the irritation from seeping into my tone. Of course, they ignore me.

“Y/N, how about you and I walk in first? The boys can follow behind us,” Serena suggests, leaning forward to prop herself between our seats like a self-appointed traffic cop.

“Or… I could stroll in with Y/N, my arm around her shoulders. You know, start some fun rumors,” Hoseok pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Ow!” He yelps as Serena gives him a swift elbow to the ribs. “Come on, babe! I was just joking!”

“Seriously, Hoseok. That dog act is getting old,” I mutter, catching Serena’s annoyed glare in the rearview mirror.

“How is this not a big deal?” I groan under my breath.

“How about we all walk in holding hands? All four of us!” Y/N suggests, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I turn to scowl at her. “You too?” She flashes me a grin, scrunching her nose playfully.

We finally pull up to Jin's house, and as we pile out of the car, I notice Y/N walking ahead, chatting with Serena. I fall back next to Hoseok, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. 

Inside, Y/N glances back at me, then disappears into the crowd. I greet Jin and grab a drink, then find a spot by the back wall. Familiar faces from the lab are scattered around, some with their families. I find myself chatting with a few of them, even playing with a little kid in a sweater that says “Future Scientist.” I snort at the irony—here's hoping he grows up to be an engineer instead.

To my surprise, I’m not hating this night. I lean against the wall, stealing glances at Y/N as she lights up while talking to Prof. Tanner, one of the few female professors in our department. I’ve heard she can be a total nightmare, but she’s all smiles for Y/N. What gives? 

As Y/N mingles, I can’t help but wonder if there’s anyone who wouldn’t be drawn to her charm. Just then, Jungkook appears out of nowhere, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. My heart races, and I shoot up from my chair.

“She’s got it under control,” Serena whispers, her grip firm on my elbow as we watch Y/N step away from Jungkook, saying something before he wanders off. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, sinking back down in my seat. Y/N glances my way, her eyes briefly meeting mine before she moves on.

“Yoongi, you need to get it together. You’re staring at her like some creepy stalker,” Serena says, finally releasing my elbow.

I sigh, knowing she’s right. We bicker a lot, but beneath her icy exterior, she really does look out for me.

Hoseok appears, holding another round of drinks, and I begin to feel a little lighter. But when I find Y/N again, she’s deep in conversation with Jin. I can see the passion in her gestures, the way she lights up as she talks about her project. It fills me with pride to see how far she’s come this semester, how confident she is now.

Jin glances at me a couple of times during their conversation. I try to focus on my drink, but the curiosity gnaws at me. Is he proud of her? Does he see what I see?

“Dude, Jimin is giving you a death stare,” Hoseok whispers, snapping me out of my thoughts. I follow his gaze and meet Jimin’s dark brown eyes. He quickly looks away, a slight frown on his face.

I shrug, trying to shake off the feeling of unease. “He has a weird stare. You think he suspects something?”

“Probably,” Hoseok says. “I don’t know how much longer you can keep this charade up. It’s torture.” I rub my chest, where a tightness has been growing since Y/N walked away.

“Jeon can’t take a hint, huh?” Hoseok mutters, and I see Y/N accepting a drink from Jungkook.

Are you kidding me?

My hand tightens into a fist on my thigh as I down the rest of my drink, a wave of frustration crashing over me. Y/N smiles at Jungkook, and while I’m somewhat relieved to see it doesn’t reach her eyes like when she smiles at me, it still makes my blood boil. I want her by my side, to claim her as mine. I want Jungkook to back off.

“Dude, calm down,” Hoseok says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I turn to him, exhaling sharply through my nose.

My night is crumbling, and I feel on the verge of snapping.

“I can’t, okay? I’m going to take a breather.” I stand abruptly, forcing myself not to look for Y/N again. I know if I see her with him, I might lose it and drag her away like some caveman.

“Want me to come with you?” Hoseok asks, his concern evident.

“No, I’m fine,” I reply, but my tone lacks conviction.

I storm into Jin’s sprawling backyard, seeking solace in the shadows. I need to figure out what’s happening inside my head. Why does this pressure in my chest hurt so much? It’s ridiculous—I shouldn’t be feeling like this over someone. I should be rational. 

Sinking onto a bench, I rest my head in my hands. 

God, I’m losing my mind. Or maybe I’m turning into a hypochondriac… or both.

I just want Y/N. I need her. I miss her. I love her.

My head falls back against the bench. 

Is this what love feels like? 

Suddenly, I hear a soft voice. “Hey… what’s wrong?” 

I didn’t even notice Y/N coming outside. I lift my head and lean back, letting out a deep sigh.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” I say, but the anger slips through despite my best efforts.

“Yoongi…” She sits beside me and takes my hand in hers.

“This party sucks!” I snap, but she doesn’t flinch. She never does. Y/N knows me too well, understands my rough edges. I never want to take my frustration out on her.

“What sucks?” Her voice is steady, soothing. How does she do it?

“This stupid party…” I trail off, staring at our hands.

She laughs lightly. “Are you drunk?”

“No! I’m not!” Realizing I raised my voice again, I groan and try to regain my composure. “I want you beside me. I want to tell Jungkook to back off because you’re mine. I want to hold your hand, put my arm around you, keep you warm. I don’t want to hide this anymore.”

“I know…” Y/N reaches for my face, her fingers brushing my hair behind my ear. I lean into her touch, closing my eyes as her words unravel me. “I want to be beside you too,” she whispers, and it feels like the world has shifted. “But right now, it’s not smart for us. The semester is almost over. I’ll find an internship in a different lab, and then we won’t have to hide anymore.”

So I’m screwed either way. If she finds a different lab, we won’t have to keep this secret, but I won’t get to see her every day. And if she stays, we’ll be stuck in this limbo.

“Can we go soon?” I plead, my frustration boiling over. I want to escape this place, take Y/N somewhere safe where I can finally let myself be with her.

“We just got here,” she giggles, trying to lighten the mood. “Stop being so grumpy and let’s get back inside.” She rises, but I grip her hand tightly.

“You know I hate when you call me grumpy.”

“No, you don’t. You love it,” she counters with a bright smile.

I do love it. And I love you.

The words sit heavy on my tongue, burning to be spoken, but I hold them back.

I pulled her gently between my legs, my hand finding its way to her cheek as I brought our lips together. She kissed me back, soft and tentative, but then, with a push against my chest, she pulled away.

I groaned, rising from the bench. “I’ll go in first. You follow in a few minutes, okay?” I needed a moment to gather my thoughts, and the warmth of her fingers lingering on my chest felt like a whisper of reassurance.

“Yeah…” I breathed out, almost a whine.

“And try to have some fun.” She shot me a playful smile that sent a flutter through my chest.

“Yeeees…” I groaned again, turning to walk away.

“You’re being a big baby, you know that, right?” Her teasing tone made me roll my eyes.

“Y/N, don’t provoke me,” I sighed, tugging at the hair on the back of my neck.

“Okay, okay.” She giggled, her laughter lightening the air between us. “I promise to sit by you for a bit.” With that, she let me head inside alone.

I lingered outside for a few more moments, trying to cool off and collect my thoughts before re-entering the fray.

Just as I was about to step back in, Jimin stumbled outside, looking a bit worse for wear. “Yoongi! There you are,” he said, plopping down on the bench next to me.

“Jimin,” I greeted, not really in the mood for small talk.

“So… are you like social now?” he asked, his words slurred from the alcohol he’d consumed.

“What do you mean?” I feigned interest, though I really didn’t care.

“You never used to come to these things,” he pointed out, sounding suspicious, as if I’d committed some sort of crime.

I shrugged and stood up, feeling the urge to escape. “Are you sleeping with your undergrad?” he blurted, trying to whisper but failing miserably.

A glare shot across my face as I realized he suspected something. Jimin was definitely too drunk for this conversation. “Jimin, I think you should stop drinking,” I advised, and when he just stared blankly, I added, “I better get back inside before Hoseok thinks I left without him.” I didn’t wait for his reply as I headed back in.

Y/N was sitting with Hoseok and Serena when I walked over, and the moment she smiled at me, my chest tightened with a mix of longing and pride. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her hand or leg, but I managed to sit back, trying to play it cool. 

I was surprisingly glad I’d come. I’d anticipated a dull evening, but it turned out to be quite enjoyable. Watching Y/N all dolled up, chatting with everyone, filled me with a sense of pride. 

Then, as Jin started playing Nelly, the atmosphere shifted. Seeing Dr. Amun-Kebi, bow tie and all, dancing to “Hot in Here” was an image that would be burned in my memory forever.

Later, Y/N paced nervously through my room in her underwear, her damp hair leaving a faint mist in the air. I watched her, my heart pounding at the sight of her anxious movements as she rummaged through her bag. The tension felt heavy, almost suffocating.

“Y/N, you’re going to do great,” I said, my voice still laced with sleep as I tried to offer her some comfort.

“You don’t know that,” she replied tightly, finally finding what she was looking for. 

“You know this stuff better than anyone else in that room,” I said, propping myself up on my elbows to catch her gaze.

“That’s not true. You’ll be there too.” She faced me, comb in hand, her worry evident as she began to untangle her wet hair.

“Exactly! So, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, but it felt weak against her rising anxiety.

“I stutter when I’m nervous,” she admitted, her voice wavering as she pulled out her clothes and bent over, her vulnerability stark against the backdrop of my cluttered room.

“Then try to relax,” I said, taking a deep breath. “You’ve put in so much work, and you know your project inside and out. You’ll do amazing, Y/N.”

“What if Jin asks me something I don’t know?” Panic danced in her eyes as she placed her hands on her hips.

“You don’t have to know everything. I’ll be there too—this is my project too. Remember, it’s not a test. The point is to discuss the results together, nothing more.”

Slowly, her frown faded, replaced by a tentative grin. She climbed back onto the bed, straddling me, her wet hair dripping onto my shoulder. The scent of her filled the air, intoxicating, as she leaned in to kiss me softly.

I lay back, tracing the strap of her bra with my finger. “I know how to get you to relax,” I teased.

“Not a chance, Grumpy. We’d be late,” she shot back, rubbing against me just enough to send a bolt of desire through my body.

“Y/N, you’re such a tease,” I groaned, dropping my head back in exasperation.

“And you have a foul mouth, Min,” she replied, disappearing into the bathroom, her voice echoing playfully.

“Which, coincidentally, you love,” I called after her.

She poked her head out, toothbrush in her mouth. “That… I do.”

With a lazy stretch, I got up from the bed, dragging my feet toward the bathroom. She stood by the sink, brushing her teeth in her adorable smiley-face underwear, making me ache with need. “You’re going to pay for my blue balls tonight,” I murmured into her neck, eliciting a giggle as my stubble brushed against her soft skin. 

She bent over to rinse her mouth, pressing her behind into the growing bulge in my boxers, causing a deep groan to escape my lips. I playfully smacked her ass as she squealed, darting out of the bathroom.

“Don’t take forever, Grumpy. I want to be early to set things up!”

Y/N and I stood in the seminar room, preparing everything for the presentation. The space was cozy, just big enough for the nine of us in our group, including Jin. After confirming that all the slides displayed correctly, I shot Y/N an encouraging smile and took a seat toward the back, keeping a close eye on her.

I could see the nerves bubbling beneath her composed exterior. We had gone over every detail last night, and I knew she was ready for this moment.

Jin kicked things off with some lab business, and then it was Y/N’s turn to shine. As she started her talk, she stumbled over her words just once at the beginning, but quickly found her rhythm, her confidence blossoming with every passing second. My heart swelled with pride as I watched her speak; she was absolutely incredible.

Jin seemed impressed too, prompting her to elaborate on a few points, which she handled flawlessly. But then Jimin jumped in with questions that felt a bit off-base, probing into unrelated techniques and approaches. Y/N stumbled over a couple of his inquiries, but she made educated guesses, maintaining her poise. Still, I could feel my irritation rising. What the hell was Jimin’s problem?

“That was all nice… uh… Y/N?” Jimin hesitated, clearly relishing the moment as he mispronounced her name. My blood boiled at his deliberate slight. 

“I just don’t see the point.”

“The p-point?” Y/N stuttered again, and it took everything in me to keep my temper in check. I wanted to tear Jimin apart for being such a jerk.

“Yeah, I mean… so you found two new toxin genes. How is that going to help anything?” Jimin shrugged dismissively, and I could feel my frustration reaching a boiling point.

Before Y/N could respond, I jumped in, my voice sharper than I intended. “Oh, I’m sorry, Jimin. Are you questioning the impact of my research?”

Jimin turned to face me, a smug expression creeping across his face.

“Yoongi…” Jin’s warning gaze made it clear I needed to rein it in.

“No, seriously. Please, tell me if you are,” I shot back, my eyes locking onto Jimin's, daring him to continue.

“Actually,” Y/N interjected softly from the front of the room, pulling our attention back to her. “I think I might be able to answer that question.” She glanced at me for permission, and I nodded, stepping back to let her take the spotlight.

“Please, go ahead,” Jin encouraged her, his tone supportive.

“Well… if these two toxins are, as we’ve shown, involved in the cancerous growth of stomach epithelium cells, then studying their protein structure and interaction will provide insight into the anomalous stomach pathology caused by H. pylori… and its possible cure.”

I couldn’t have put it better myself. My heart swelled with pride and something deeper. Marry me?

“Marvelous!” Jin exclaimed, while Jimin huffed, sinking into his chair in defeat. My annoyance at Jimin evaporated, replaced by overwhelming joy. I couldn’t take my eyes off Y/N as she smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears. I wanted to run to her, scoop her up in my arms, and kiss her senseless, but I managed to stay seated, a wide grin plastered on my face.

As the room emptied, I lingered behind with Y/N, pretending to help pack up the projector and laptop. It was just an excuse to stay close to her, to contain the waves of emotions crashing inside me. Jin congratulated her one last time before leaving, and I counted his steps, waiting until he was far enough away. My heart raced, and when I could wait no longer, I dropped everything and rushed to Y/N, cupping her face in my hands and kissing her desperately.

“You did amazing!” I said, my voice breathless with excitement.

“I was so nervous!” she admitted, her eyes wide.

“I know, but you nailed it!” I kissed her again, unable to get enough of her.

Still holding her face, I searched her eyes. “Geez, Y/N… you’re incredible. I—” I leaned closer, resting my hands on the table behind her, my lips trying to convey everything words couldn’t. It was more than just her success or my pride as a scientist; it was so much deeper than that.

“I want to cook you dinner tonight,” I said, pulling her into a tight embrace.

She smiled up at me. “You do?”

“Yes. We’re having a celebration date at my place.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” I kissed the top of her head, reluctantly letting her go as we gathered our things to head back to the lab. My heart was full, my mind racing with excitement and a twinge of fear. I’d never been happier in my life.

Now the only question was: what on earth was I going to cook for Y/N?

We returned to the lab, the earlier tension between Y/N and me fading as we wrapped up our tasks. Her eyes sparkled with determination as she headed off for her final exam, and we agreed to meet at my apartment for dinner later. Just as I was about to slip out early to prepare, an email notification pinged in my inbox.

From: Seokjin Kim, seokjinkim(at)fhcrc(.)org   Sent: Friday, May 13, 2024, 4:27 PM   To: Yoongi Min, ygmin(at)u(.)washington(.)edu  

Yoongi,

We need to talk about your undergrad. Please stop by my office.

Jin

-

Dr. Seokjin Kim   Member, Division of Basic Sciences   Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center   1100 Fairview Avenue North   Seattle, WA 98109-1024  

Shit. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Jin had never summoned me to his office like this before. He usually came down to the lab if he wanted to talk. The email's terse tone sent a chill racing down my spine. There was only one reason he’d call me in like this—he knew about Y/N and me. 

That jerk, Jimin, must have said something. 

No point speculating now; I had to face Jin. My heart raced as I imagined the worst. He’d tell me Y/N and I couldn’t be together, that she wouldn’t be able to work in the lab anymore. The thought twisted my gut with regret. I should have been more careful, kept my feelings in check.

Shit.

I knocked on Jin’s door and stepped inside. He was facing his computer, barely glancing at me as I sank into the chair across from him. 

“Hello, Yoongi. Take a seat,” he said, his voice calm but layered with an undercurrent I couldn’t quite place. “Let me just finish this email.”

I watched him type, the sound of the keys echoing like a death knell. Finally, he turned, a smile dancing on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. I nodded, trying to mask my nerves, my hands gripping the chair arms.

“I have to say, I was very impressed with Y/N’s seminar. She showed a broad knowledge of the project, answered questions confidently, and gathered an impressive amount of data for just one semester.”

“She is incredible,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Nice, Yoongi. Way to keep it cool.

Jin raised an eyebrow, nodding. “She does seem very mature, dedicated, and hardworking.”

“She is.” I couldn’t help but think of all the moments we’d shared, both in the lab and out.

“So, I called you in here for two things. First, I want to offer Y/N a position as a summer intern. What do you think?” 

My heart leaped. Jin had never offered an undergrad a position after just one semester. This was amazing! Y/N was going to be thrilled. 

“That’s… um… that’s great! She completely deserves it, and it would be an incredible opportunity for her. She wants to apply to grad school next fall, so summer research would be really beneficial.”

“I see… so you approve?” Jin asked, tilting his head.

The way he looked at me made my blood run cold. He didn’t need my approval. Something was off.

“O-of course,” I stammered, my instincts telling me there was more to this conversation.

“Well, that leads to the second thing I wanted to discuss.” He shifted in his chair, crossing his legs as if he were settling in for a serious talk. 

Here we go…

“It seems you have a very close relationship with Y/N. You seem very… protective of her.”

I knew it! Jimin must have spilled the beans. My fists clenched at the thought.

“Now, I understand it’s in your nature—her being under your care and all—to be protective. But there’s something else,” Jin continued, tapping his finger against his lips thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed the change she’s brought about in you. It’s fascinating.”

Geez… Jin and his fascination.

Before I could respond, he went on. “Of course, I would never ask if there’s something unprofessional going on because that would be tactless. However, you should know that involving yourself in a romantic relationship with an undergrad—especially if she’ll be getting paid for the summer—is completely unacceptable.”

Fucking shit.

My hands gripped the chair so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I couldn’t do this. Hiding my feelings for Y/N felt impossible, but I’d have to—for her sake. This was an incredible opportunity. We’d have to keep it up until she graduated. Damn, that was a whole year! Maybe I could graduate sooner, find a job in another lab…

Jin was staring at me, eyebrows raised, when suddenly he burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the small office.

“I’m just messing with you, kid.” He slapped his thighs as his laughter subsided. “Your personal life outside this lab is none of my business. As long as it doesn’t affect your work or hers, I have no problem with it.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. Did he just say what I thought he said?

“You know, when I met Mrs. Kim, she was a post-doc in this lab.”

“I didn’t know that…” I exhaled, the tension draining from my body.

“Well, now that this is settled, I’ll offer Y/N the position.”

“O-okay.”

Still in shock, I left Jin’s office. Before I even reached the lab, my phone rang—Y/N, squealing about Jin’s offer. I didn’t mention my conversation with him; I’d save that for tonight during our celebration dinner.

Our celebration dinner… Oh God. What was I thinking? I couldn’t cook!

I definitely needed to stop at the grocery store unless I wanted to serve Y/N mac and cheese for dinner. Sighing, I realized I had no idea what to prepare. Time to turn to my all-knowing best friend: Google.

Search: What to cook for your girlfriend? Search Results: 5 Easy Meals To Cook For Her – AskMen.com

AskMen.com? Seriously? 

Chipotle Shrimp Kabobs…

What the actual fuck?

Sautéed Lemon Garlic Chicken…

Really, AskMen? Really? 

I groaned, frustration bubbling up. This was not going well. Maybe I should try again.

Search: Easy dinner for two Search Results: Cooking for Two Recipes – Allrecipes.com

Allrecipes.com? I think I’ve heard Yoonji mention this site before. 

Salmon with Raspberry Ginger Glaze…

Holy shit! And these are the easy ones?

I slammed my forehead against the desk repeatedly. Okay, maybe I should stick to something I already knew how to make… like grilled cheese. Or pasta! I could whip up some pasta sauce.

Search: Easy Pasta Sauce Search Results: Easy Vodka Sauce – Allrecipes.com

Now we’re talking. 

I jotted down all the ingredients and headed to the store, feeling a flicker of hope.

I was chopping onions into tiny squares when my phone buzzed with a text from Y/N.

Undergrad: I’m done with the semester! Woot! Woot! Do you want me to come early to help with dinner?

Yes… please… no!

C’mon, I can handle this. How hard could it be? Just follow the protocol, Min.

Me: What? No faith in me, Y/L/N?

I typed quickly, trying not to let the onion juice splatter all over my cell. 

Shit…

Undergrad: I would prefer not to get food poisoning. I have an internship this summer! :)”

I couldn’t help but smile at the screen.

Me: You’re distracting me. See you here at 7. P.S. Smiley faces are lame.”

Undergrad: And you, my Grumpy, are adorable!

I chuckled, my heart racing with excitement. Maybe I could do this after all. Just as long as I didn’t burn the kitchen down.

When Y/N knocked at the door, it was only a quarter to seven. I had the garlic bread in the oven, and the sauce still needed another thirty minutes to simmer. I’d hoped to squeeze in a quick shower before she arrived, but clearly, that plan was a bust.

I opened the door to find Y/N standing there, a bright smile lighting up her face. “Did you wrestle the tomatoes?” she giggled, tiptoeing in for a quick kiss. “Hi…”

I wanted nothing more than to pull her close, but I was covered in tomato juice and splatters from head to toe. “Give me a sec,” I said, retreating to my bedroom to change.

When I returned, she was by the sink, eyes wide as she surveyed the chaos I’d created. “Geez, Yoongi. How many things are you making?” She gestured dramatically to the pile of pots and utensils stacked high.

“Just the one dish, Y/N,” I replied, trying to sound casual while stirring the bubbling sauce.

“Did you feel the need to use every pot in the kitchen? Were you trying them all out?” She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Okay, Y/L/N. You’re getting on my nerves. I’m trying to cook here.” I continued mixing, trying to ignore her playful jabs.

“You should use a wooden spoon,” she advised, inching closer with a wooden spoon in hand. “The metal one makes the sauce acidic. The metal reacts with the pH of the tomatoes—”

I shot her a glare. “I didn’t even know I owned a wooden spoon,” I grumbled, taking it from her. “I almost have a PhD, you know.”

“Okay… okay… Mr. PhD.” She waved her hands in mock surrender. “Can I play some music?” She reached for my laptop on the counter and gasped, laughter bubbling out. “Oh my gosh… you googled the meaning of sautéed?”

“Okay, that’s it, Y/L/N.” I pretended to drop the wooden spoon over the counter dramatically. “No dinner for you.” I pointed a finger at her, struggling to keep a straight face.

“I’m sorry!” she laughed, and I stepped closer, cornering her against the counter. “It does smell delicious,” she whispered, running a finger down my chest.

“And I haven’t even showered yet.” I dropped kisses along her neck, my hand sliding beneath the hem of her shirt.

“You do smell delicious too,” she said in a husky whisper.

“Liar. I stink of onions.”

“Only a little bit.” She giggled into my neck as I lifted her up onto the counter. “Thanks for making me dinner.”

“My pleasure,” I murmured, nuzzling her neck. She smelled amazing—like warmth and sunshine. I pulled back to look into her eyes. “Congratulations on your internship, Y/N. You absolutely earned it.”

“Yeah… about that,” she said, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. “I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Why not?” I asked, confusion painting my features.

“Well, I have to think about it.”

“Y/N, it’s an incredible opportunity. Jin has never offered an internship to a student after only one semester of work.”

“I know… but…” She bit her lip, trailing off.

“What is it?” I cupped her cheek with my hand, rubbing my thumb along her skin.

“Well… are we going to be okay if I join the lab for the summer? We’ll have to keep hiding this, and I know it’s been getting… um… difficult… for both of us.”

I sighed in relief, a smile creeping onto my face. It was sweet of her to include herself, especially when I’d been the one making everything complicated. The thought of her giving up this chance for us made my heart swell. “Yeah… about that…” I echoed her earlier words. She looked at me expectantly. “I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult about the whole thing… but it turns out, we don’t need to hide anymore. I mean, we should still keep things professional in the lab and all, but… Jin sort of knows.”

“WHAT?” She pushed me back with a hand on my chest, her eyes wide.

“I think it was becoming obvious, Y/N. He didn’t ask me directly, but he said our personal life had nothing to do with our work. As long as it didn’t affect our performance, he didn’t care.”

“He doesn’t care?” Her voice was still high-pitched with surprise.

“Apparently, his wife worked for him once too…” I shrugged, returning my attention to dinner. I stirred the sauce and tossed a pinch of salt into the boiling water before adding the spaghetti.

“That… that changes things,” she said slowly, her brow furrowed.

I stepped back between her legs, looking into her eyes. “What is it?”

“So, um… do you want me to take the internship? You won’t get tired of me?”

“What kind of question is that, Y/N?” I shook my head, feeling a pang in my chest. “I’ve been aching, physically hurting, thinking about you taking an internship somewhere else and leaving me for the whole summer.”

Her smile was radiant, brightening the dim kitchen. “You have?”

“Yes…”

“Well, it looks like I won’t be going anywhere,” she declared.

“Good. Because I have a lot of work to do, and I could really use an overachieving undergrad with some pretty amazing skills at the bench.”

“I’d say my skills go beyond the bench. Wouldn’t you agree?” she asked, a teasing smirk playing on her lips.

“I would…” I pointed the wooden spoon at her playfully. “But don’t distract me now, or I’ll burn your dinner.”

Dinner turned out surprisingly well. We ate as she excitedly recounted her classes, finals, classmates, and professors. I sat back, just soaking in the sight of her—how her eyes lit up when she spoke, how her mouth curved into a smile, the way her eyebrows danced with every emotion. Watching her enjoy life, so passionate and full of energy, felt like a precious gift I never wanted to take for granted.

Y/N was drying the last few dishes, the rhythmic swish of the towel against porcelain filling the quiet kitchen with a comforting cadence. I approached her from behind, the warmth of her body radiating toward me as I leaned in to kiss her neck. The familiar flutter of anticipation twisted in my stomach. “You want to show off some of those non-bench skills of yours?”

She turned to me, a playful smile on her lips. As I leaned on the counter, I caught a whiff of my own odor wafting up. “God, I stink…”

Her laughter bubbled up, light and teasing. “It’s fine.”

“Do you mind if I take a quick shower?” I asked, a hopeful lilt creeping into my voice.

“Can I join you?” 

A grin broke across my face, and I took her hand, leading us toward the bathroom. The air between us crackled with a tension that felt electric, urging me to shed my shirt and pants before we even reached the shower.

She kicked off her shoes, her fingers deftly unbuttoning her jeans while I turned the water on, steam swirling like ethereal ghosts in the dim light. “May I?” I asked, wrapping my fingers around her wrist. She nodded, her eyes shimmering with mischief.

With practiced ease, I unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down to her ankles. As I knelt to kiss her calves, then her knees, and finally her thighs, her giggles rang out like music, lifting the weight of the world off my shoulders. “Your scruff tickles,” she said, her voice bright and breathy.

I lifted her shirt over her head, tracing my fingers along the delicate straps of her bra. Once our underwear was discarded like forgotten memories, I pulled her close, feeling her warmth envelop me as her legs wrapped around my waist. Our differing heights made this an all-too-familiar arrangement, a perfect fit for everything we were about to share.

She squealed as I jumped into the shower, icy water hitting us both and sending shockwaves of heat through my body. Her lips found mine, soft and insistent, and I pressed her back against the cool tiles, the world outside fading away.

“Put me down,” she murmured hoarsely into my ear.

I obliged, feeling the rush of her kisses trailing down my chest as she sank to her knees, a wicked smile playing on her lips. 

“Y/N…” I breathed, leaning against the slick wall for support, knowing what was coming. This was one of her non-bench skills—a skill I’d come to appreciate in ways I couldn’t quite articulate. The water cascaded over us, hot and cold, our bodies entwined in a dance as old as time.

She began slowly, teasing, her hands wrapping around me, her tongue swirling around my tip, and I groaned, the sound swallowed by the rushing water. My instincts told me to hold back, but the pleasure was too sweet, too intoxicating. 

“Y/N…” I rasped, the words spilling out like a confession, “I’m… shit…”

But she didn’t relent. No, she tightened her grip and quickened her pace, and as my knees weakened beneath me, I surrendered to the waves of ecstasy crashing over me. I grabbed at the shower curtain rod, but it shook under my weight. I couldn’t hold on anymore.

With a final, desperate groan, I let go, surrendering to the moment, the pleasure consuming me entirely. She rose from her knees, licking her lips, that look in her eyes making my heart race. “You are one talented woman,” I murmured against her neck, panting.

Still wrapped around me, I stumbled into the bedroom, a tangle of limbs and laughter. I collapsed onto the bed, her body beneath me, and kissed her everywhere, exploring the soft curves that felt like home.

I knelt beside the bed, pulling her legs over my shoulders, my hands wandering over her hips as I feasted on the sweetness before me. The taste of her was electric, sending jolts of desire straight to my core. 

“God, Y/N, you taste even better than you smell,” I groaned, losing myself in her as she writhed beneath my touch, her moans filling the air like a siren’s song. 

It was then that I realized bringing her pleasure was no longer just a thrill; it was my favorite pastime, a dance of intimacy that bound us closer than any words could express. I placed soft kisses along her body, the world outside fading into obscurity, leaving only us—lost in our own private paradise. 

“Mmmmmm… Yoongi…” she sighed, fingers tangling in my hair. “Very… talented… yourself.”

I chuckled, planting another kiss on her lips, affection bubbling up like a tide. I love you, I love you, I love you…

“Inside… now,” she commanded, breathless and eager.

“Yes, ma’am,” I grinned, knowing this night would linger in our memories long after the water had dried.

“Y/N?” I gently comb my fingers through her damp hair, the strands clinging to my chest like the remnants of a storm.

“Hmm?” Her voice is soft, almost dreamy, as if she’s still wrapped up in the warmth of the moment.

“I… I want to tell you about my parents.” As I speak, she lifts her head, folding her arms over my chest, resting her chin there like it’s a pillow—a sanctuary amid the chaos of my memories.

A tiny grin dances on her lips, and she nods, encouraging me to continue.

“You probably guessed that they’re dead, right?”

She nods again, her gaze steady. “I know they’re not part of your life now… I figured something must have happened.”

“My dad died when I was four,” I say, the words tumbling out bluntly, like the beginning of a ghost story. 

“I’m sorry…” Her voice is small, fragile.

“I don’t remember him, except for pictures.” I shrug, trying to shake off the weight of the past. “He had pretty aggressive colon cancer—killed him in two months.”

“Oh my God, Yoongi… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I attempt a smile, but it probably comes out crooked and imperfect, like an old photograph faded by time. “So it was just my mom and me for a while… but when I was eleven, she was diagnosed with breast cancer.”

Her eyes widen, a shadow of understanding crossing her face as she starts rubbing gentle circles on my chest with her fingers, an attempt to soothe the pain I’m dredging up.

“She was so strong, though. She fought it for almost two years, with the most eager and positive attitude you can imagine. Kind of like you, in a way.” I flash her another smile, hoping to lighten the moment, but Y/N’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and she remains silent, letting me spill my heart.

“When she started getting worse, we moved in with my aunt, uncle, and Yoonji. My dad’s brother, Namjoon, is one of the best oncologists on the West Coast. But after metastasis, there was pretty much nothing else he could do.” 

“And that’s why you do cancer research,” she says, piecing it all together.

“It was Namjoon’s idea, really. He talked about how frustrating it was, being an oncologist, waiting for new therapies, new drugs, and discoveries. I figured it made sense to devote my life to that.”

“It does…” she replies, her tone soft but firm, a steady anchor in my turbulent sea of memories.

“I know it’s not a very profitable career…” I pause, the weight of Estelle’s words echoing in my mind, the sting of her judgment lingering like a bad dream—wasting my time.

“Profitable?” Her disbelief catches me off guard, pulling me from my thoughts. “What do you need so much money for anyway? You’re doing something you love. Something meaningful. That’s so much more important.”

Y/N renders me speechless with her insight, her understanding washing over me like a wave, leaving me breathless. I kiss the top of her head, the moment stretching between us until I decide to share the last piece of my story, the promise I made her before.

“My mom… um… she loved The Carpenters. She would make me sing their songs to her all the time. At the end—when she was breathing through a tube and couldn’t speak anymore—she wrote that note you saw on the CD.”

“‘I’ll be with Daddy soon’?” Y/N remembers, her voice barely a whisper, the words hanging heavy in the air.

“Yes…” I run a hand through my hair, staring at the ceiling as if the white paint might offer me some solace. I try to breathe through the lump in my throat. “I still miss her… so much.” I keep my eyes fixed on the ceiling, willing them not to fill with tears, blaming the onions and their cruel sulfenic acids when they finally betray me.

After a few deep breaths, I turn to face Y/N, who is sniffling, her hands trembling slightly.

“Y/N, don’t cry. Please.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just so sad. I’m so sorry.” She cries over my chest, and I run my hand over her hair, creating a soothing rhythm in the storm of emotions.

“I know. But I’m okay. I’m happy now.”

“You are?”

“Yes, because of you.”

Her sniffles dissolve into giggles, a beautiful mix of laughter and tears, and she never ceases to amaze me with her resilience.

“I love you, Y/N.” The words burn in my throat, raw and true, echoing in the empty spaces of my heart.

She lifts her head, staring at me through her wet eyelashes, and I know she can feel how my heart pounds beneath her. I’m overwhelmed by emotions, but I’ve never spoken truer words. After a moment, Y/N’s hand reaches behind my neck, and her lips collide with mine in a passionate kiss, her tears mingling with mine.

“And I love you…” she breathes in between kisses, her voice trembling with sincerity. “So… so… so much.”

We fall asleep like that, her warm body over my chest, the world fading away. I feel a profound relief, a weight lifting as she gets to know me in ways no one ever has. And even though shadows of uncertainty linger about our future, I realize I don’t have to solve everything right now. Like Y/N said, I would savor my time—my time with her, my time in school. As long as she was by my side, nothing else mattered. I was doing what I loved, and the person I loved was right there with me. It couldn’t possibly get any better than this.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[liannelara-dracula]

Azusa Mukami NSFW Alphabet Hcs

Based on this ask:

Hi Love,

I have the others coming soon but I decided to give you Azusa's.

-Liannelara

Links;;;

Kanato

Yuma

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Prompt

Requests are open

Rules

Warning:

nsfw

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A

Aftercare—What does he do?

He is pretty good at it, this is honestly what he’s known for.

Azusa would make sure you are tended to and would run a bath for you both.

He put some candles and uses a bath bomb for you both to relax in. 

He’ll even put flower petals into it because he knows you like them.

When the bath is ready he will carry you if you cannot walk.

He helps you wash up and gives you a massage too.

He likes to cuddle you in bed too and will stay there with you.

During his cuddles, he kisses your forehead and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

Anal—Is he into it?

No, he really isn’t that kind of person.

He’ll do other things that he’s more interested in. 

Although if his partner is interested he is willing to try. But he’s not keen on it.

B

Boobs or Butt—What does he prefer?

Boobs, he’d most definitely be a boob guy.

Mostly because it's soft and easy to grab a hold of.

Whether they are small or big he doesn’t care.

If they are small he may find it more convenient that it fits into his hands.

Because he can cup it and feel all of it fully.

He may comment on it being small but this wouldn’t be in a bad way, he’s just admiring it and cannot get enough of you.

And you can bet that he’d plant kisses in between your chest and all over it.

He especially loves hugging you from behind to hold your chest when he’s touching you.

Body part—Favorite body part?

If it's not your boobs, I’d say it's your hands because they are soft.

And smaller than his and he likes that he holds your hand in all of that.

He can feel the pressure when you squeeze his hand during sex for anything he’s doing to you that brings you pleasure.

Boner—What got him to this?

He’d try to keep it to himself and not bother you about it.

Especially if you are busy with something he isn’t going to bother you. 

Unless it gets to the point where he’s waited to many hours an he can’t get it out of his mind.

Then he’ll come to you and ask you for help.

Or you may just notice and then he’ll ask you for help since you noticed.

He’s probably a little shy about it too.

C

Cum—Things relating cum

He gives more than you’d think. 

I mean he made three kids with Yui, so clearly he’s got it.

He isn’t super interested in tasting or anything like that, Azusa is pretty vanilla.

Although he does like it when he can get you to react for him.

Of course, we can’t forget how much he likes to feel so he’d love it when you are the cause of him cumming.

Contraceptives—Any protection?

He leaves it up to you tbh.

If you’re married he’ll probably want children

But if you are not ready he’ll just wear a condom.

D

Duration—How long is one session itself? Are there rounds?

Generally, sex lasts about 7 minutes on average for most (1 session). This is considered the most desired amount of time for most, it ranges from around 7--13 minutes. Although it depends on the person and what they are included in their sex. I actually learned this in my psychology classes so this is a proven fact. I was surprised at how short it can be.

He probably lasts about 5--6 minutes each session but in a night of extreme passion, he’ll go to 7 or 8 minutes.

Azusa doesn’t always do rounds but sometimes he will.

Especially when he’s feeling extra generous.

At max, he will do 2 rounds.

Because he is a vamp he usually has more stamina and can handle more than humans but if you can’t keep up with him he just tries to go at your pace.

Even if he could do more he doesn’t like wearing you out.

So if he feels like you’ve had enough he’ll stop even after a session.

He’s not one to test the limits.

Sometimes you may want more but he stops because he thinks you should relax.

Denial/Dirty Secret—Something they won’t admit or a sexual fantasy they won’t share?

Even when you are tired and he may want to continue he’d never tell you that.

It’s mostly because he cares more about how you feel and he doesn’t want to put you through so much.

Knife play--he may or may be okay with this he likes pain on him because he thinks he deserves but to something he loves and cherishes I just don’t think he handles seeing them wounded and that he caused it. In his mind, it's one thing, but carrying it out and actually hurting you doesn’t seem like something that he could actually do.

If you are a vamp and you heal though he might tell you about it eventually.

Degradation/Dirty Talk—Into either one or both? How is this done?

Not into them, he likes to praise you.

For dirty talk, it’d be so rare if he said something explicit to you tbh

He’s usually saying that you’re beautiful and that you should be louder.

If he wants to be dirty he’ll go as far as saying, “I like when . . . you’re underneath . . . but even more . . . when you’re . . . on top of me.”

E

Experience—Have they done it before?

Yes, he’s done it before a few times.

He’s gotten to explore a lot of things and knows what he prefers but with a new partner he is open to different things even though he has his own style.

He doesn’t change much throughout the partners he’s had, he’s consistent.

F

Fingering—Will they do it? How often? How many fingers?

Sometimes he does, but he’d mainly do it if it's something you’d request and like a lot.

He’s not too big on this either because he is mostly vanilla.

He’d use two fingers at the most.

Fangs—Does he bite you? How often does he use it? Where else does he use his teeth?

Not used a lot but on some occasions, he does it on a really passionate night or something like a special day for you too.

Or when you’re trying to make kids.

He doesn’t use his teeth very much in general, just for some blood on your neck and stuff.

G

Generosity—Are they a giver or a receiver? Or both? Why?

Likes to give but is more of a receiver.

After all, he is a masochist soooo

For pretty much anything he likes receiving that’s also why he’s not opposed to his lover being in control.

H

Hair—How well groomed? Is he okay with body hair?

Pretty fair

But he doesn’t judge much about your choices in shaving, whatever works for you is good enough for him.

He just wants that you take care of yourself and be comfortable.

He isn’t looking for any extreme maintenance of any sort.

Hickies—Where does he leave marks? Is he okay with being marked?

Sholders, collar bone, neck, in between your chest.

And he’s okay with being marked as well.

I

Intimate—Is it rough, dirty or sweet?

It's all very sweet, maybe some rough moments in between if he was really needy or just reaching his high but he’d never start rough.

Ignorant—Are they able to tell if their partner is giving signals?

He is fairly attentive to his partner so he’d definitely notice.

If you use language he’s not familiar with he might not understand but with some clarity or body language, he’d pick it up.

J

Jerk off—Are they the type?

Yes, while he may not do this often, he reverts to this when he doesn’t want to bother you.

Or when you’re just not around this is his only solution.

K

Kinks—What are some main kinks they have?

Hair pulling in the sense that you do it to him

Praising you

Bondage is mostly on you.

You taking control

Lip biting

Bathtub sex

L

Lighting—Lights or no lights?

With a lamp light usually, just so he can see a little

Or some dim lighting is enough for him.

Location—Have a post right here

M

Motivation—Turn-ons

You get loud

Say something or act boldly

You pull his hair

Kiss his neck

When you are on top of him like straddling, that really gets him

Or when you're wearing really thin and loose clothes and they are just easy to pull off

He especially gets turned on when your body is wet from a bath.

When you expose your neck but its not on purpose.

N

Nudes—Are they the type to send them/ask for them?

He wouldn’t ask it’d have to be something you start.

And then he’d get involved in it. 

Although I don’t see him being the time to really engage in it.

No—Turn offs

If he’s interrupted or pulled away from something he will get out of the mood.

If you are not vocal, he feels like he’s not doing a great job so he’ll just stop.

Probably cursing in bed, he’d just find it unattractive because he wants it to be sweet.

Going super rough.

O

Orgasms—How often do they do it? Is it before or after their partner?

A few times, probably like 3~5.

He does it sometimes before his partner or around the same time.

Orgasm Denial/Overstimulation—Into it? If so how often? Is it done to them or done to their s/o?

Yes, more or so when it's done to him.

But sometimes he likes to tease and he’ll do it to his partner.

And it's fairly often.

Oral—Giving or Receiving? How often?

If he knows that you really like it he wants to give you it.

I don’t think he likes to receive as much, he’s probably tried it though.

Although giving is a different story, he really seems to enjoy it if you get super vocal about it.

It’s as often as you like, at some point he started to randomly ask if he could because he enjoyed it.

He often reminds you to try and stay still though.

P

Pace—Are they fast and rough or slow and sensual?

He is mostly slow

It's rare if Azusa will go fast

He’s gentle and some sensual, but more than anything he’s sweet with you.

Position—What’s their favorite and most used?

When you ride him, he likes you being in charge and being on top.

Although he likes a position where he is able to hold your boobs too.

But if there is something new you want to try, Azusa is willing.

Polygamy—Would they have a threesome+?

He doesn’t seem like the type, though it's possible he may try it once.

Pet Name—What does he call you? What do you call him?

You two stick too each other's name, if your name is really long he would just use a shortened version of your name if you prefer it.

Although he might use honey.

Q

Quirks—Something they do that you have to deal with?

Azusa constantly worries about you and stops because he doesn’t want to tire you or overdo it.

You can expect that he’ll randomly stop in the middle of his thrusting just to see if you’re alright.

And you’re finally starting to get into a rhythm and he just stops.

Quickie—Are they okay with them or do they only want a full session?

If he only has a little time it's okay to him

Just as long as you’re both satisfied.

He does them sometimes.

And because he’s sneaky he gets away with it.

R

Risk—Willing to try something new or open to getting caught?

Yes, willing to try something new with you.

He doesn’t want to get caught, especially if you feel uncomfortable.

But don’t worry he’d be quick to cover you.

S

S/D—Sub or dom?

He is mostly a sub, he likes his woman on top.

T

Talkative—Do they talk or have casual conversations with you?

He doesn’t say much but he may talk a little.

Azusa isn’t one to have casual conversation though, he’s more focused then you’d think.

Toys—Do they like/use them? On you or on themselves?

Not that opposed if they bring you both pleasure.

Would prefer he uses them on you.

If something is done to him he doesn’t want a toy.

U

Unfair—How do they tease? How often is it?

Not very much, and it would be something minimal

Like light kisses and touches but not fully hitting the right spot.

Some whispers by your ear about how you feel and how cute you look.

And a bit of grin on his face as you flustered.

V

Vocal/volume—How loud? Moans, groans, or whimpers? 

He moans and is fairly loud but you are louder

And he wants it that way.

He likes the whimpers and moans you make the most.

When you are vocal it turns him on.

Especially because he only hears you get like this during this time.

W

Wildcard—Some special things they do specifically?

Always puts you on the bed gently or scoops you up.

Makes sure he is fair and that you’re not the only one naked.

He doesn’t do it all the time but he will pinch your nipples a little because it gets you to moan.

It’s only here where you see him grin and sometimes smirk at you.

He sometimes will giggle, but it's very innocent. He does this if one of you makes a mistake.

X

X-ray—How big are they?

He’s a little on the small side but is obviously proportionate to his body so 5.3~5.5 inches

Idk how else to explain this, someone shoot me

Y

Yearning—Sex drive level

On a scale of one to ten, he’d be a 6

So fairly high then you’d think

It's mostly cause you don’t expect it because he’s sweet.

Z

Zzz —Do they sleep after? What do they do?

Yes, Azusa will once you two have settled everything and have showered.

He’ll kiss you goodnight and then he’ll drift off into sleep with you in his arms.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗ ©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present

[theyluvlyss]

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐝🙂...

1. tonight, I went to go see the black phone in theaters again (one time showing only typa deal, at least where I live, for those curious ig lol) and y'know,,, I've always known this one thing about myself, which is that my brain LOVES the theater. she loves going, she loves the loudness, the atmosphere, she loves it all, even if (clearly) she's seen the movie already. because of this silly little fact, and because I went to go see this silly little movie tonight, as I lay in the comforts of my warm bed and drink my dr.pep and eat my vanilla ice cream...

my brain all the while had apparently been working overtime behind my back. just as my head hit the pillow, she practically punched me in the throat with a fic idea that I just can't pass up. but I fear I have trouble committing, so I cannot promise it'll even come into fruition, let alone get finished. but on the off chance it does and I do... I will leave anyone reading right now with these...

north denver, 1982 (or 3, idk)...

reader is new to town, dresses like a freak, and absolutely does witchy spiritual stuff...

ghost boys reach out to the reader...

something with finney and gwen, the grabber, idk maybe max, too, add in a bit of angst, love, hurt, comfort, allat junk *inahles*...

😃✋🏼it's all a jumbled kerfuffle of thoughts from there, and I'd lowkey like it to be a full blown, multiple part/series/chapter FIC fr, yk? IDKIDK but I see a vision and...yeah. do y'all see the vision?

...am I crazy😀?

moving on😌☝🏽...

2. sooner or later (hopefully sooner, though) I will be binging/rewatching life is strange 1 and 2 playthroughs, which will then allow me to add a masterlist for some of the characters I've been wanting to write about for a very long time now, which means requests for those characters will be open once I do (not yet, though lol) :D!!

I've done my fair share of fic reading back when wattpad was my main app, and while they were good for the time, lord knows I haven't touched that app in years and I'm NOT going back. but, unfortunately, there's not a lot of fics on here to read (my heart shattered into pieces when I looked up sean diaz's name and there was basically nothing😔💔) and I don't like fooling around with other fic sites, so, as usual, I must be the one to fill the void left both on this app and in my heart.

you're welcome🤭✨️ (kidding, ish-).

anyways, that's about it for now (other than the 80+ requests I'm working on currently), thanks for reading whatever this is you wanna call it, byeeeee /ᐠ-з-マ/.

[rizzstappen]

College Au, I agree that you def should write it 👀👀

Ahh okay I’ve been tinkering with this for a bit! Thank you for this ask Danni!!

This is my first time writing for Maxiel and first time writing rpf in years so please be easy on me 😭 but of course feedback and any questions are welcome!! Inspired by this picture and the tags!!

Sorry for any mistakes! But I don’t think I can look or edit this anymore without going insane 🤪 enjoy!!!

Maxiel College AU where it’s a special day during junior year!

—

“C’mon one more DR!” Blake shouted from across the tennis court. The Austin sun beating down on them making the already humid day feel worse than it actually was.

“Yeah, nah mate,” Daniel called back as the three men walked toward the net where they had set their backpacks down to get in a quick tennis match. “Max is waiting for me. I promised I’d be back on time. He says it’s a special day.”

Daniel had been thinking all day about it.

Before leaving for class Max had whispered to Daniel something about a special day. In his sleepy haze all the Aussie could do was hum and try to pull his boyfriend back into the warm duvet covers away from the busy campus outside their window.

Every morning was a routine once the semester began. Max woke at 7 am for his 8 am lecture. Showered. Got dressed. Kissed Daniel before he headed out the door. Daniel, of course, didn’t have class until 1:30. He liked sleeping in and staying up late. Plus he worked at the local bar which meant late night shifts. Max didn’t mind it. They always made sure to leave the afternoons free around dinner time so they could catch up on the day before Max went to play FIFA or do homework and Daniel went to work.

“He said that? You don’t know what the special day is?” Scotty asked with a slight scoff knowing if he forgot a date Chloe would have his head.

Daniel rolled his eyes sliding his backpack onto his shoulders and hiding his sweaty curls under a black and green hat “no he didn’t say what it was. If I ask he might kill me so I’m off to get some flowers on my way home” he nodded hopping the day would reveal itself when he walked in the door.

After saying bye to Blake and Scotty, Daniel headed out to the local flower shop. It was small with a French exchange student behind the counter who flirted way too much with Max in his opinion. The green eyed student recommended a bouquet of roses. Cliche.

Instead Daniel opted for an assortment of red, yellow and white tulips. Like the ones Max spoke about from his home country. Daniel liked to get flowers often wanting to give Max a little piece of home since he couldn’t travel back to Holland often.

The jingle of his key alerted the cats of Daniel’s return to the small apartment. Once inside the cats curled around his ankles and purred against his leg welcoming him back. Daniel leaned down scratching both Jimmy and Sassy behind their ears with whispered ‘hey guys, where’s dad?’ He toed off his shoes by the door before walking towards the living room. Max wasn’t in his usual spot on the worn leather couch Daniel had practically begged Max to bring back after they found it on the side of the road last year.

“Hello?” He called out the crinkle of the cellophane echoing around the tulips in Daniel’s hand.

“Shit” Max’s quiet voice echoed coming from the kitchen. Daniel made his way over seeing Max fussing over…something? His broad shoulders hunched down pulling at the fabric of his black polo that were tucked into his jeans being held up by a black belt.

Max turned holding a tray in his hands with what should’ve been a cake. The white frosting and vanilla bread had clearly turned into a crumbly mess.

“It’s supposed to be a cake, of course, but I think I took the bread out too soon and it was too hot. Of course I just wanted it to be decorated before you got back-“ Max rambled. A grin spread on Daniels lips “a cake for this special day?” He asked trying to real more information out of his boyfriend about this mystery day.

Max raised an eyebrow and nodded “of course why wouldn’t there be a cake?” He says.

Cake. Birthday? No. Anniversary? No. Daniel still couldn’t wrack his brain about what this special day might be.

Max smirked at his boyfriend as he sets the tray down on the linoleum lined kitchen counter “you have no idea what today is huh?”

Shit. He was caught. Max could read him like a book but Daniel wouldn’t admit it of course. “What?! Of course I know what today is. I got you flowers. Tulips” he grinned handing over the bouquet.

Max inspects the flowers. Not as good as the ones from his hometown but he knew it was the thought that counted. Max looked his boyfriend in the eyes a grin on his lips as he speaks “then what is today?”

Daniel looks back for a moment. What other possible date would be important enough for a cake?

A laugh bubbles up from Max “you don’t even know!” he smirked happily moving to get a vase filled with water for his flowers. “Daniel it’s the day we met in class” he spoke over the water running into the green vase “three years ago, of course” he nodded shutting the water off and sliding the flowers into the water before setting them down “it’s called a meet cute. I think” he said before he gestured to the cake sat on the counter “that’s what Victoria called it. She said it would be cute to celebrate it.”

The words ‘happy 3 year meet cute’ scrawled out in red icing against the white frosting in Max’s handwriting

Daniel was stunned.

3 years. He couldn’t believe 3 years had flown by. He remembered walking into his Horticulture 120 lecture and the only spot left was next to Max at the front row. He was sure he’d drop the class. It was an elective after all. But then he turned and saw Max’s eyes. Blue. Like the Maldives. In that moment Daniel knew he had to stay. So he did and clumsily introduced himself. His braces giving him a slight lisp. But it was the best thing he had done. Now he had an apartment and two cats with that same boy. And they were celebrating meeting 3 year later.

Daniel gives his boyfriend a soft look before his own laughter filled the space between them “oh Maxy” he said “that’s adorable really. Thank you” he says admiring the icing work he had attempted winning his finger into the white frosting and licking it off his finger.

“Happy three year meet cute anniversary” he said leaning in kissing Max’s blushing cheeks.

Max smiled turning to look at his boyfriend “happy three year meet cute anniversary” he whispered before planting a kiss on Daniel lips.

[cellard0ors]

I don't know if this is the same anon twice or if two different anons are asking the same question in a different way, but my personal NSFW head canons for hackearney are thus (and spoiler alert, I've written a good few of them):

Travis:

* LOVES Laura's breasts. They're one of his favorite things to play with and touch.

* Enjoys taking Laura from behind, but is still a wee bit self conscious about it - because what was once considered taboo is now vanilla doesn't change the fact that Travis grew up during that taboo time. If his Ma knew he'd fantasized about that sort of thing growing up...😬

* Honestly could care less about his own pleasure. Sure, he enjoys blowjobs and the like, but his partner's pleasure is what really gets him going. It's how he's always approached sex, because while he enjoys it, he's never taken much from it. EXCEPT, of course, when it's Laura - from that he takes everything, because it means so much to him.

* Travis loves going down on Laura - this is just a hackearney staple in the ship, tbh - I just agree with it like every other shipper 🤣

Laura:

* Dirty talks - otherwise he doesn't make much sound during sex past groaning

* Knows Laura probably has sex toys but doesn't like to think about it. Partly due to jealousy and partly due to the frustration that he can't just magically appear when she feels like sex

* Worries about his age and sex drive thanks to their age gap. There's been a few sex fails and he feels they're all his fault - Laura tells him otherwise, but it's a concern.

*... clearly the only solution to the problem is to make sure he has sex with Laura as often as possible.

* Dated quite a bit before Travis - even before Max! Most of the relationships were the innocent kind of puppy love adolescents can have - sharing kisses and all - but as she got up higher in her teens she went farther than most pretty quickly. That being said, while she enjoys sex and her previous lovers weren't too shabby they're nothing compared to Travis.

* Sex with Travis makes Laura feel like her previous sexual encounters were trash - mainly because Travis is so good at making her cum. He's like an evil sex demon...

*...an evil sex demon she loves!

* Is good at blowjobs and can deep throat but only at certain intervals - it's definitely harder with Travis who is...bigger...than her previous partners.

* Laura is LOUD. She tries not to be, because it's almost embarrassing how energetic and loud she can be during sex. She doesn't want to sound like an overeager porn star, but it does seem to come across that way - again, especially with Travis.

* Laura was loud with Max and her previous lovers - with Travis she's damn near deafening.

* Loves Travis hands! Everything about them - she wants them all over her body.

* She's also a fan of his nose. It's funny, because she's pretty sure he hates it, and she's pretty sure the feeling of it against her folds is one of the greatest things she's ever felt.

* If it was up to her, she'd probably have public sex with Travis - but considering he's surprisingly shy and vanilla, she has to take her time in coaching him into that idea

* Thought she didn't like dirty talk until Travis introduced her to it. She loves the filthy things he says during sex and loves to egg him on - adding her own dirty talk to the mix.

Together:

* Enjoy the aftermath as much as the actual act. The cooling down of their bodies, the slowing of their heart rates, the snuggling...❤️

Think those are the basics. Might be more, but those are the building blocks of how I approach them. 😉

[mamawasatesttube]

You know what you’re right actually. Can I change my “what’s cookin good lookin’ “ prompt to KonBart? That’s clearly the more correct application of that prompt.

also prompted by @pteropodidaes!! thank you ♥

Bart's arrival is heralded by two things. First, a gust of wind that rattles the pans hanging above the cooktop, nearly sends Ma's cookbook flying off the counter, and whips the curtains all over the window.

And second—

Smack!

"Heeeyyy! It smells so good in here, wow. What's cookin', good lookin'?"

Kon pinches the bridge of his nose. "For the love of god, Bart, have some manners! You can't just go smacking people's asses in their grandma's kitchens. I have dignity—"

"No, you don't," Bart interrupts, grinning. He grabs Kon's shoulders and hops up, slings his legs around his hips, and hangs on like a human backpack as Kon keeps whisking the glaze in the bowl in front of him.

Kon can't quite hide the fond smile that tugs at his mouth, no matter how exasperated he's trying to be, and wraps a band of TTK around Bart to hold him more securely. "Okay, I don't have dignity, you got me. But I have standards."

"Mmm, maybe." Bart hooks his chin over Kon's shoulder and peers at the bowl. "Honestly, the real reason I gotta stop smacking your ass when I run in here is your stupid invulnerability! That hurts at high speeds, you know. Anyway, what're you making, huh? I thought you said you were gonna cook something with all that zucchini from Max's garden, but it smells really good in here, so there's no way you actually used it—"

"I so did," Kon says smugly. "There's zucchini bread in the oven, and this is the glaze to go on it when it dries—vanilla with a pinch of cinnamon, y'see." He scoops a dollop out of the bowl on his finger and holds it up for Bart to taste. "It's good, try some?"

Bart obediently licks it off his finger. Kon turns his head just in time to watch his entire face light up, and laughs as he walks to the sink to wash his hand.

"Okay, that is really good, but—you're putting cinnamon vanilla glaze on zucchini? What the fuck?" Bart makes an incredulous noise. "Gross!"

Kon snickers. "You haven't ever had zucchini bread before, have you."

"Uh, no, but it sounds gross. I'm sooo sick of zucchini. Max keeps harvesting like a bajillion of them! Helen's taking them to work by the bagful and forcing her coworkers to take them!" Bart rests his chin on Kon's shoulder again. "If you actually made it not taste like zucchini, maybe it'll be okay, though. Maybe."

"It's a Martha Kent tried-and-true, family-approved recipe, if that makes you feel any better." Kon dries his hands on his apron and reaches up to ruffle Bart's hair. "But I bet you're gonna love it."

"We'll see," Bart says dourly. He butts his head into Kon's hand like a cat.

"You yourself said it smells good," Kon points out. He effortlessly plucks Bart from his back with a twist of TTK and plops him onto the counter instead, leans in, and pecks his forehead. "Trust me, Imp. You're in for a treat."

Bart hums, hooks both legs around Kon's waist again, and lightning-fast, snatches the whisk out of the bowl of glaze to lick it clean. "Okay, okay. I guess you haven't let me down yet, chef."

"Yet?" Kon repeats indignantly. He bops Bart on the nose and snatches the whisk away; Bart lunges for it, and Kon catches him around the waist and plops him right back down on the counter.

"Yeah, yet! I dunno if you're gonna make something super gross tomorrow!" Bart grabs for the whisk again. "Oh, come on, you were done with that anyway!"

"Mostly done," Kon corrects, and Bart playfully kicks him.

When the timer finally beeps and he turns to take the zucchini bread out of the oven, they're both still laughing.

♥ angst/fluff prompts ♥

[pinkiepiebones]

Since the physical release of Rite Here Rite Now is nigh, I'm gonna repost this batshit idea I had in late 2018 which I emphasise because some of this is cringe and there is no concept of time, space, geography, or costs.

(unreality)

(long read, edited for clarity)

ARG

Ghost put out a concert DVD that, when placed in a CD drive on an old computer, opens an unfinished game that you brute force your way through. The screen displays a phone number that you call. A man recites a rhyme to you and hangs up. You research the poem, find the author's name, and find a coded message within the wiki page of the author. It leads you to a train station. You wander around until you find a locker there with a grucifix carved into it....

You find the locker is unlocked. Inside is directions to your next destination. And a plane ticket.

You meet Hideo Kojima at a diner in Deming, New Mexico. He gives you a manila envelope and you say “wait was this a Death Stranding 2 ARG” and he says “no Ghost asked me to be part of this and I said 'of course! I love the bizarre.'"

I sode the envelope is a note from Papa Nihil asking you to rent the 1983 Dutch horror film The Lift. You find a rental store, somehow, and rent the movie. At the 48 minute mark there’s a very small, poorly edited-in ghoul in the bottom left corner and when you zoom and enhance you realise it’s holding up a note that says BEHIND YOU

Copia is there, holding a pie.

You eat the pie, despite it being a flavour you don't care for, and at the bottom of the pie tin are coordinates.

The coordinates lead you to a high school. You find the locker of a kid with the last name "Forge'' and you have to break into that locker. No, you can't just ask for it to be unlocked. Ghost will know. So you get into the locker and scour it for clues. Tucked inside the chemistry textbook is a black piece of paper that reads “where did it all begin?”

So you book a flight to Linköping.

A limo driver is at the airport when you arrive, holding a sign that doesn't have your name on it, but instead it shows a series of numbers and a grucifix. You go to the nearest vending machine and punch the numbers in. Obviously. A diet cherry vanilla pepsi max rolls out. Inside that bottle is a download voucher for a new Ghost single.

Downloading the single begins phase 2.

By now roughly two years have passed and the new album has been out a while. Your family thinks you are lost, certainly kidnapped, possibly dead, but you’ve come this far...

After downloading the single you get an email from iTunes, which is somehow still around. It’s an eBook ad, but the picture for the fourth book on their list of Hottest Street Chef Biographical Recipe Books is glitched. Clearly, you must buy that book.

On page 38 there is no recipe, just a note, addressed specifically to you, asking you to attend tea in the cemetary across the street from the bookstore.

You go to the cemetary and find no tea party, but tucked inside one of the bouquets on one of the tombstones is a tea cup with the word BIBLE on the bottom

You relisten to that cover and when you play is backwards Tobias says “wow I never expected anyone to get this far. Okay so your next clue will be at your house by the time you hear this.”

You arrive home and tear it up looking for that clue. After a week of pretty much wrecking your house you realise the clue was written in the bottom of your sock drawer! Of course! It was so simple, you skipped right over that possibility!

Now you’re flying to Italy. Your family is very sure you are dead or involved with the drugs.

At the mall in Milan is an old record store. Your clue advised you to check out mid 2000s stoner band Dandy Warhols.

You pick up the record for their second album, because almost everyone’s second outing is better than the first, and taped to it is a note. “How much further are you willing to go?” On the other side is a key and an address.

You take a taxi to this address, a ritzy crematorium. You had no idea such a thing existed.

Your key unlocks the main crematorium chamber and you pull out the drawer. Sticking out of a pile of totally not human remain ashes is another download voucher.

This download voucher won’t work.

You’ve typed the code in seventeen times, recieving an error message each time. You wipe the slip off again, sure you removed all of the definetely not human remain ashes from it, when it hits you. It’s a phone number. You call- it’s a movie information line, but the automated voice only gives you one movie title and one time.

You find the only theatre in Milan and buy a ticket for the movie. It’s a decent popcorn flick, nothing terribly creative or memorable, but at the 56 minute mark you start catch the old “cigarette burns” in the corners, the things that told projectionists to get ready to change film reels way back when.

At the 59 movie mark the movie stops and you are shown a still image of the hallway from the Rats video. At the 63 minute mark you hear footsteps. At the 70 minute mark Sister Imperator walks into the frame and says “have you been paying attention to your watch?” The movie immediately resumes. Good thing you’re a master of this by now and already had the time codes written down. The numbers magically correspond to a library book.

You brush up on your film history at the library. On the back page is a grucifix drawing and the word “cheese.” Your next destination is clearly Switzerland.

Or Wisconsin.

Wait, no, this book had a chapter about “holes” in the history of nitrate film. Switzerland it is.

It should be noted that at this point about three years has passed, your family considers you dead, how do you have money to do all of this, and oh, a rival band’s evil manager has been TAILING YOU THIS WHOLE TIME? This evil rival band manager man just wants to get the album first and use it to ruin Ghost somehow. Don't worry, this B plot goes nowhere.

You're in Switzerland. As soon as you arrive you get a call telling you how great a cuckoo clock would be. You head to the nearest clock shop and when the little wooden bird that lives inside one decides to do it’s thing you grab the paper stuck to it’s beak.

Tickets to the opera? Well okay.

You arrive at your box seat and realise there is another reserved seat. As act one starts a ghoul arrives and sits beside you. The ghoul is wearing a top hat. When act one finishes the ghoul leaves and you’re think 'shit I figured the clue was in that hat.' But then you take off the top hat YOU had been wearing all evening and the clue was in YOUR hat the whole time!

You order a pizza from Switzerland's only Domino’s store and tip the delivery guy the Swiss equivalent of $6.66. He nods knowingly and adds a free bottle of diet vanilla cherry pepsi max to your order. Inside the bottle is another note.

“Honestly, I’m running out of ideas. None of us here ever anticipated anyone would understand my game. Meet me at the post office on Tuesday. -TF”

Tusday arrives. You also arrive. At the post office.

Tobias himself is standing by the greeting card display, smiling at a card depicting kittens climbing out of a birthday present. You approach cautiously.

“Do you have ten dollars” he asks without looking away from the cat card. You immediately hand over the cash. He reaches into his pin-covered messenger bag and hands you a record. You open the gatefold and start reading the liner notes, looking for clues. “No, no, game is over” Tobias says gently. “I’ll sign it for you, but, yeah... I mean, it’s been three, four years. Have you had breakfast? I’ll get you breakfast, my treat.”

He manages to find a French bakery here in Switzerland and you order one of every crepe dish on the menu since it’s on his dime. “This has been quite a journey for you, hasn’t it” he asks as you eat.

“I bet your family misses you.”

You look up.

“They’re very worried about you.”

You realise he hasn’t ordered anything.

There are no patrons at the restaurant other than him and you.

Tobias reaches across the table and holds your syrup sticky hand (youre a messy eater).

“I need you to wake up, darling.”

You swallow your last bit of crepe and stare at him. His face is a mix of concern, sincerity, and fear.

And then he starts laughing. “I’m fucking with you!! Oh man, you were buying that? ‘Oh no, it was a coma the whole time’?! That’s the worst kind of ending!”

He wipes a tear from his eye. “Oh, the look on your face. So worth it, so worth it.”

He settles down. “But, uh, yeah. Good job winning the game.” He reaches over and takes a blueberry off your plate and pops it into his mouth. “I’ll have to make the next one trickier, eh?”

~FIN~

[miraclesabound]

Miasma

Summary: Joel has a chance to make things right with an acquaintance from before the outbreak. Also at AO3.

Pairing: Joel Miller/F!Plus Size!OC Odette Green Phillips, past Odette Green/Max Phillips

Note: The flashback scene is directly inspired by something I went through in college. Miasma is defined as "an atmosphere of unpleasant smells".

Now with fan art by @miranhas-art!

Warnings: Episode 9 spoilers, loss of a spouse, Odette getting an inferiority complex and it's partly Joel's fault, age gap, remembering a deceased spouse, description of a heart attack, nightmares about Sarah and Ellie, Joel continuing to lie, first kiss.

Tags: @writeforfandoms, @the-ginger-hedge-witch, @joelmillerscoffeemug, @oonajaeadira, @grogusmum, @blueeyesatnight, @hopeamarsu, @lavenderursa, @littlemisspascal, @simpingcowboy

May 2024 – Jackson

Joel was used to seeing people’s grocery bundles at the Jackson general store, but his curiosity was piqued when he walked in one day to see a sizeable pack of soaps and perfumes waiting for pick-up. Tommy, who was coming in behind him, saw where his brother was looking and chuckled slightly. “It seems like a lot to me, too – but that’s what Mrs. Phillips likes to order.”

Joel shrugged. “I suppose this is pretty tame, given what people would trade their ration cards for back in the QZ.”

“She’s an Austin girl, as it happens – she went to UT around the same time you did,” Tommy told him. “She came up with her husband five years ago – he passed about six months after they arrived.”

“That’s a shame,” Joel said.

“It really is – no one deserves that, but Odette especially didn’t. She’s close with Maria, but I’m sure a friendly word from someone back home would help too, if you have the chance.”

The name tickled at Joel’s memory, though he couldn’t quite place why. “Did she ever say what her maiden name was?”

“Green – why?”

“Ah shit,” Joel muttered. “I don’t think I should make a social call, Tommy – I” He was interrupted by the ringing of the store bell as someone walked inside.

The woman who stepped in brought a slight whiff of her perfume with her– warm sugar and vanilla, if Joel’s nose hadn’t failed him. Her clothes were neat and fit nicely on her plump frame, her dark hair was perfectly done, and for the moment, she didn’t seem to know him.

Tommy smiled. “Well, speak of the devil. Joel, this is Odette Phillips. Odette, this is my brother Joel, I don’t know if you two ever met.”

Joel could see the recognition light up Odette’s face, and if he felt a little sick remembering when they last spoke, Odette looked like she was going to throw up. She quickly grabbed her bag from the clerk, verified the contents, and ran out of the store as if she expected danger to follow her.

Tommy watched Odette leave, and then turned to look at Joel with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Joel said. “I’m pretty sure she hates my fuckin’ guts.”

--

UT-Austin – February 1997

When Joel Miller caught up with her after their engineering course let out for lunch, Odette Green’s heart initially soared. The older man had earned her admiration over the semester – he was working on a certification for his carpentry business, and he spoke with such pride about his daughter Sarah, who’d just turned 6. It seemed like he had a new photo of her in his wallet every time that Odette saw him.

Add to that that he was utterly gorgeous and funny, and was it any wonder that Odette had been getting sweet on him? He had even sat next to her today in class – when she’d finished her work, she found herself leaning into him and resting her head on his shoulder. He’d felt like everything warm and safe and solid.

Joel said something that briefly sounded like “I’m in love with you.” Although Odette wanted to kiss him for that, she realized that with the noise of the other students leaving, she couldn’t be sure that’s what he said. “Joel, I’m so sorry, can you repeat that?”

He did just that, and this time Odette clearly heard his words: “I’ma level with you, ok?”

“Ok, fire away.”

“What you did in there wasn’t appropriate. I know you’re young, but even if we were a couple, which we aren’t, cozying up to me like that in public wouldn’t be all right, and you need to learn that.”

Odette swore she could feel her heart crack from embarrassment – she hadn’t realized how badly she’d misread him. That feeling turned into nausea when he followed up with, “And to be quite honest, you’re not smelling great. I don’t know if it’s BO or something you had for breakfast, but it wasn’t pleasant.”

Odette felt tears start to prick the edges of her eyes – not just because of Joel criticizing her, but because he was right. She knew she was behind on her laundry – she hadn’t even had the chance to take a shower before coming to class today. And even if she were fresh as a daisy, what was she thinking acting like Joel was hers to lean on?

Doing her best to keep her voice from shaking, Odette said, “Then all I can do is apologize. It won’t happen again – excuse me.” She walked past him – but instead of going to the dining hall, she went straight back to her dorm and jumped into the shower, turning the water on brutally hot and scrubbing herself nearly raw. After the shower, she gathered her quarters and her laundry – she got both loads of clothes done within about four hours.

The next day in class, she made sure to sit in a different row from Joel. In fact, they didn’t speak to each other again.

--

May 2024 – Jackson

After telling Maria and Tommy about what happened back in school, Joel was surprised when they said he could probably smooth things over. However, he did trust Maria’s judgement as Odette’s friend. He went to the Phillips residence the next morning, hoping that Odette wouldn’t slam the door in his face when she saw him.

When he knocked and announced himself, Odette called out, “Ok, just give me a few minutes!”

He waited as he heard some rustling inside, the quick sound of a tap running and shutting off – and then Odette opened the front door.

She was pretty, Joel realized as he looked at her. When they’d had class together, all he’d noticed was that Odette was far too young for him – she’d been barely 20, and he’d been 29. However, middle age had been kind to her. Her features were more refined, her eyes still sparkled, and she carried her weight with more grace. On top of it, she had on a different perfume today – Chanel maybe? He remembered the smell from the bottles his dad would occasionally buy for his mom.

“What can I do for you, Joel?” Odette asked. “I’m sorry about the wait – I was doing some housework and I had to freshen up.”

There was no venom in her voice, and Joel decided that he should cut to the chase. “I know it was years ago, but I was hoping I could apologize for being a prick back at UT.”

“Well, I accept your apology,” she said in a civil tone.

They stood there in silence for a few moments, and it was Odette who cut in first. “Is that all you came to say?” Her tone still had no malice or heat behind it, only curiosity.

Joel leaned in just enough so that the frame of the door could support his weight. “I mean…if I could come in and we could catch up, I wouldn’t mind.”

Odette smiled – an expression that Joel hadn’t seen on her face in 27 years. “Sure.”

--

“It wasn’t just about the thing that happened in class,” Odette explained when Joel asked about her dashing away from him the previous day. They were sitting in her living room, taking in the warmth coming through the back window. “I saw Sarah’s memorial at Tommy and Maria’s place, of course – and when I saw you, the thought of what happened to her came rushing back.” She closed her eyes, letting out a breath. “I could tell it was gonna make me cry, and I didn’t want to make it all about me, so I booked it.”

“Make it about you? I don’t follow.”

“I’m not the one who lost their child,” Odette said. “I didn’t want to make you or Tommy have to comfort me.”

Joel looked at her in confusion. “That’s … quite a jump to make, Odette. You wouldn’t have been making me do anything.”

Odette paused, as if that hadn’t occurred to her. “…I wouldn’t, would I? Sorry about that – old habits die hard.”

“Old habits?” Joel asked.

“Yeah – you hear from certain people that you’re being inappropriate, and you’ll do anything to make yourself presentable.”

Joel winced, remembering his words from the last time they’d spoken nearly three decades ago. “…who else was it?”

“My best friend at the time,” Odette said. “I believe the exact term she used for me was ‘emotional vampire’ – she said she loved me to death, but I was exhausting to be around. I started trying to prove her wrong, to be a good friend, to not unload all my problems on her – and then that thing with you happened.”

“So it was a one-two punch?”

“Oh, worse than that – she landed punch number 3. I told her what happened – she could tell I was upset about something – and she said that just proved her right that I had a boundary problem and it had gotten me in trouble.” Odette shrugged. “The whole ‘perfect clothes, perfect behavior, perfect smell, perfect me’ thing I’ve got now started after that.”

“…I don’t think I like this woman.”

Joel’s understatement caught Odette off guard, and she burst into laughter – the giggles and chuckles making her whole body shake. Joel found himself chuckling slightly too – it was nice to see her happy.

When Odette finally caught her breath, she thanked him – “Sorry about that,” she said. “It’s just that…heh heh��my husband Max said the exact same thing when I told him later why I’m like this.” Her tone became gentler. “He was actually really lovely about all of it…” The two of them were quiet for a moment, and she shook her head. “Ah, you don’t want to hear me get all mushy, I’m sure.”

“Odette, stop.” Joel put a hand over hers. “I’m not gonna make you clam up in your own house. Don’t try reading my mind, yeah?”

“Oh, now you really sound like him,” Odette said, doing her best not to get distracted by the physical contact.

“Tell me about him?” Joel gave her hand the slightest squeeze.

Odette pondered for a moment. “He…loved me the way I needed,” she said. “We met a few months after I graduated in ’98 – and he could tell that I had some sort of complex about myself, but he didn’t take it as an insult or make fun of me for being so stiff. He was just – there, and constant, and weird, and funny. He’d make the stupidest jokes – but he’d also buy me a perfume if he knew it would help me feel clean. I must have had ten different open perfume bottles when the outbreak happened. And then…he protected me.”

“Well, that’s what a husband's supposed to do for his wife, right?” Joel didn’t like how Odette made “protected” sound like such a high bar to clear.

“Not just physically,” she told him. “We got shuffled to the Dallas QZ for a few years, which was its own brand of bullshit – and then when we struck out on our own, the wilderness was frightening. No matter where we were, he was keeping me physically safe, sure – but he was also keeping me sane. In the QZ, he would still try to trade for interesting perfumes and soaps so that he could get me presents for my birthdays. When we were on the road, he…kept me from dirtying my hands. He always made it so he would be the one to do it if we had to…steal, or defend ourselves, or whatever else might happen – he didn’t want that on my soul. That counts as protection, right?”

“I guess it does – but then I don’t get it,” Joel said. “How does such a strong guy pass at 43?” It may have been a rude question, but he was genuinely confused.

“The same way he lived – looking after me,” Odette said – and here, Joel saw her start to tear up. “I’d learned how to ride, so I was out with Maria on patrol, and we got cut off by a bad snow. Max found us quickly – but something about the search over-exerted his heart. He collapsed as soon as we got back, and he never woke up. Maria taking him to the hospital was more a formality than anything else.”

Joel knew from his own horrific experience that there were no words of sympathy that would be enough – so instead, he lifted his arm, offering Odette the option to lean into him. When she looked at him questioningly, he nodded and pulled her into his side.

“I’m really a lot better – I was a wreck that first year,” she told him. “I guess I’m just…trying to look after myself the way he looked after me. I keep to my schedules, and my outfits, and my fancy soaps – not just for myself, but to remind me of him.”

“That makes good sense.”

Odette wiped at her tears, glad that she hadn’t worn make-up today. “And what keeps you sane these days, Joel?”

 “I don’t think sane is the right word,” Joel admitted. “But I’ve been busy for the last year. Ellie, that little girl with me, needed to get out this way from Boston to…meet with her family, and I ended up being the guy for the job.” He prayed that Odette didn’t notice how he’d paused. “I found out almost too late that her people weren’t safe. I’m just glad there was a place for us here.”

Odette didn’t press him for details – leaning against him like this, she felt his exhaustion as if it were her own. “Have you had a chance to rest at all?” she asked.

“Honestly, this is my first day off,” Joel said. “I’ve been running around helping out where I can, getting Ellie’s situation figured out – being able to just sit down has been nice.”

“I’m glad – I try to keep things comfortable here. I don’t get a lot of company, but I don’t want to spend a whole visit cleaning if someone does stop by.” Odette looked up at Joel and her mouth tightened slightly. “Honestly, do you want to crash out for a bit? You look beat – there’s a guest room upstairs.”

“You sayin’ I look bad?” Joel said in a joking tone.

Odette smiled to show she got the joke, but when she answered, she was serious. “Not at all – you never have. I’m just saying, I know I’m tired and I’m not the one who hoofed it halfway across the country. If you’ve got the time, seriously, the guest bed is yours. The bathroom is at the top of the steps.”

Joel didn’t need to be told again. He gave Odette one more side-hug and was asleep upstairs within ten minutes.

--

Sunset was approaching, and while Odette had been sincere when she told Joel she appreciated company, she wanted to make sure he wasn’t sick. He’d been asleep for several hours now, and she was sure he was hungry.  Walking up the stairs, she knocked on the guest room door: “Joel, it’s after 5, you ok in there?”

“Yeah…yeah, give me a minute…”

Odette was worried – something about his voice sounded off. “Can I come in?” she asked.

“It’s your house.”

“Ok.” She pushed the door open – and the sight in front of her broke her heart. Joel was sitting on the bed, blankets half off, his hair was messy from sleep, and his eyes were rimmed with tears. “Hey, what’s going on? Are you ok?”

“Nightmare,” Joel said, an audible gulp passing through his throat. “Ellie’s family, they…they somehow had Sarah too, and I was too late for both of my girls, and – ”

Odette sat next to him, hugging him around the shoulders. “That’s all I need to know,” she said. “I’m so sorry – oh!” She felt herself tip over – Joel had collapsed back onto the bed and taken her with him, wrapping his arms tight around her thick waist.

“Please,” Joel whispered. “Just…don’t go.”

Odette shivered – the breath of the words tickled her neck. “You sure?” she tried to joke. “I was cleaning the kitchen while you slept, I’m sure I don’t smell fresh.”

Joel pulled her more tightly to his body, and he ran his nose along her throat. “You smell real,” he told her. “You smell real and warm and alive.”

Odette could tell that if she were standing up, her legs would be going out from under her – no one had gotten this close to her in at least a year. “You don’t need to butter me up, Joel,” she said, her voice sounding much steadier than she felt. “If there’s something you need from me, just say so.”

Joel didn’t speak – instead, he took Odette’s chin and kissed her fiercely, as if he was afraid she would fade out of his arms. Odette gasped against his lips, but when he pulled away, thinking he’d offended her, she tangled her fingers in his hair and smashed their mouths back together.

[wh0lemilk0vich]

ok one head canon i think about all the time is billy plumping up over the summer. he finds out that steve is working at the mall when he drops max off one day and decides to catch a glimpse of former king steve

of course billy has to go in to tease steve for his ridiculous uniform. billy is just about to go to work himself so he's in his red board shorts and his official hawkins pool lifeguard tank top. steve immediately knows billy is up to no good so he puts his foot down and says no loitering, if he wants to be inside scoops he has to be a paying customer

billy acquiesces and orders a single scoop of vanilla in a dish. he eats half of it all while teasing steve relentlessly and tosses it on his way out. the ice cream was good but he can't let himself indulge too much for the sake of his image as well as his job

billy keeps coming inside the mall every time he drops max off which eventually turns into billy stopping by starcourt on his way to work regardless of whether or not max is with him. he sees steve every day for a little pre-work pick me up in the flavor of flirtatious banter and a single scoop in a dish

eventually that dish turns into a waffle cone and the single scoop multiplied into three by the time billy realizes what has happened over the course of the summer. as he formed his flirtationship with steve, he also formed quite the belly

a stark contrast from the first time he stopped by scoops, on the last day that hawkins pool is open, billy is struggling to fit into his uniform. his board shorts are stretched right across his hips, and his shirt is nearly see through with how much it strains to contain the entirety of billy's belly. the outline of his navel is clearly visible, as is the stack of rolls on his sides, and his perky pecs have softened into pudgy moobs

steve already has his order ready - an extra large banana split topped off with nearly an entire container of whipped cream. billy polishes it off like it's nothing and before he can head out for his last day of work as a lifeguard - because he's surely not returning for next year's swim season - steve slips him a piece of paper with his phone number on it and suggests that billy start stopping by his house for dessert instead

I can get into a muscle chub billy, like softened over rugby build. I think that would definitely suit him. I think that's a super cute head canon/scenario

Usually I associate chubby with soft, sort of submissive characterization because that's usually what I identify with. But every so often I can get on with the thick, harder, more masculine reading of it which is what my mind immediately goes to with billy.

[romistav]

““you guys are so fucked up.” 

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON MAX AND DEJAN’S EXIT LAST NIGHT? WHY DIDN’T YOU VOTE FOR THEM?

”my thoughts are that it’s great dejan is no longer here. he was dragging everyone here down and, i mean, getting in an actual fight with josh right before leaving? clearly, not a good look. i wasn’t going to vote for my abusive ex to stay on the show, sorry.” 

HOW ARE YOU FEELING ABOUT THE START OF CASA AMOR?

"i think it’s technically the best thing that could’ve happened to me but i am still not happy that it happened. i mean, i miss marcus and it hasn’t even been a full day. i’m trying to let myself be distracted and for the most part it’s working but then i start thinking about what he’s probably doing and the fact that i have no clue who he’s talking to. this essentially made everything i’ve been trying to do all that much easier, though. i have to give it a chance but i still think you guys are fucked up.” 

ARE THERE ANY NEW ISLANDERS THAT HAVE CAUGHT YOUR ATTENTION? WHO?

”stella is incredibly stunning. i mean, she’s tall and i’m pretty sure she just naturally smells like vanilla or something. charlene is pretty cute, she hasn’t tried, like, hitting on me or anything so i don’t think that i’m her type but i can see us being friends. she wants us to be a ghost hunting duo or something which sounds fun and a lot more chill than most of the stuff i’ve been up to in here. zeke is, like, well you’ve seen him. god, is it fucked up to say that all of them have caught my attention? dante is such a cutie. that accent could make anyone melt, i think. he invited me to go visit the vineyard he works at which i know might have just been him being polite but that was very sweet.” they give the producers a look like they’re ready for the next question only for them to shoot another look right back at her. “and jude, too. i’m excited he’s here.” 

ARE THERE ANY NEW ISLANDERS YOU DON’T SEE YOURSELF VIBING WITH?

“not really. i think the only one i haven’t really spoken to is angel but i can see us getting along, too. i think i’m a pretty easy person to get along with, to be honest. still, having them around is nothing compared to having everyone else here. i miss getting to discuss every single thing that’s happening with josh and dylan. i wonder how they’re doing. i mean, josh is probably loving it.” 

DO YOU THINK YOUR HEAD COULD BE TURNED? 

“what i think doesn’t matter as much as the fact that my only chance of staying on here is if my head is turned. you know that better than anyone. i do think that you like me, though, because you’ve given me plenty of good options to pick from. i’m looking forward to seeing where it goes with someone here but even then i think everything is going to shift as soon as everyone comes back to this villa. like, i don’t know, obviously i can’t see what’s going to happen but i guess, yes, i can see my head being turned.” 

WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR ‘OTHER HALF’ IS UP TO IN THE OTHER VILLA RIGHT NOW? HOW ARE YOU FEELING ABOUT THEM? 

“i hope that marcus is having a great time and i hope he’s getting to meet lots of interesting and fun people. i’m not giving you anything else, that’s genuinely how i feel. i already said that i miss him, right? so, yeah. i wish him all the best and those bombshells are so goddamn lucky they get to meet him.”  

[goldenhourhimbo]

*Wes note: very scientific ratings by which I mean no proof just vibes.*

Max- silent killer. Mad dirty talk.

Checo- vanilla af. Missionary for 3 minutes, comes inside you without discussing it, and then turns on sports.

Carlos- stoic af. He enjoys it! Will give no indication that’s the case.

Charles- will throat fuck you but you’re going to like it. Good dom energy.

George- into snowballing.

Lewis- will assure you swallowing is vegan because he gave you consent to consume it.

Fernando- drinking a beer while you top him off. might even turn on sports while getting blown.

Lance- tries to get aggressive but it doesn’t go well for him. Needs to practice his dom skills.

Pierre- wants to bring strong dom energy but freezes. Wants to tell you to deep throat him and put a finger in his ass but loses courage.

Esteban- thinks he’s bringing the alpha male but moans too much.

Oscar- clearly and effectively communicates his desires.

Lando- would rather come on your face than in your mouth. Absolutely never returns the favor.

Hulk- actively tries to act like he doesn’t like it too much. Thinks it plays as alpha male. Is wrong.

Kmag- doesn’t see the point. Would rather fuck.

Alex- attempts dirty talk but it doesn’t go well. You feel bad for him instead of turned on.

Logan- most well behaved. Right amount of noise. Gentle hair pulling. (Amanda note: I’m filing for divorce)

*interlude* how many of these fuckers are there driving these cars?!

Nyck- will ask you to eat his ass.

Yuki- another silent killer. Good dom energy. Won’t come on your face because it’s too messy.

Val- will be sure to thank you but not in a simp way. You think he’ll bring the dom but you make him melt.

Zhou- definitely skull fucking you. demands eye contact too. Wants non waterproof mascara so it’ll run down your face.

Bonus Round:

Daniel- happy to be there, all around good time, positive responses. Real time feedback.

Jenson- favorite position is doggy style. Would rather fuck. Doesn’t believe in clitoral stimulation.

Nico- wants you to hang your head off the bed while he skull fucks you. Would rather come on your face.

Seb- no surprises, you get what’s on the tin. Respectful and fun.

Wes is going to rate how he thinks each dude on the grid (plus daniel) reacts while getting a blowjob, stay tuned

[ofprescotts]

📲 max to open.

MAX: uhh i'm out with this girl i met on tinder

MAX: don't judge me about the tinder part but LISTEN

MAX: she won't stop talking about sucking my blood

MAX: if i stop replying pls call the police

[majorasnightmare]

i got 2 (two) likes from beloved mutuals so that counts as encouragement i think ANYWAYS

everyone loves elden ring waifus and besides ranni i think the biggest victim of waifuization is melina, which i mean makes its own kind of sense because shes your guiding maiden etc etc but where i draw the line is sexy fanart because genuinely, GENUINELY

i dont think melina knows what sex is

this got long so apologies for no readmore im on mobile

like she knows children are born. she knows children come from mothers, and that her own manner of existence (burned, bodyless) is unusual

but i also think that an int build tarnished could convince her of Stork Theory with a solid enough argument

like. lets be honest here. melina is WEIRD okay. shes weird and thats part of her charm. she speaks weirdly formally like all the time despite also clearly considering your tarnished a close friend, but that can be chalked up to how melina rly is one of those "married to their job" type people. like her offscreen arc is coming to terms with her own predetermined purpose and finding her own meaning in that (by recontextualizing it outside its intended purpose) but thats really like ALL she thinks about, is her job. she guides you, she provides you with wisdom thru the words of marika, and then she goes to the erdtree and to the giants forge! and anytime anything OUTSIDE that happens, she gets genuinely confused

when boc sits by the grace crying about his mom, melina literally pulls you aside and asks if thats normal. she couches nearly everything she talks about in Grandiose Metaphor INCLUDING aforementioned child talk! (her plea by the three fingers grace, and her talk about boc crying ala "is it normal for people born of a mother to be. Like That. tarnished?")

she isnt NORMAL shes some vessel of Divine Duty struggling with personhood and Ideological Opinions and the mundanities of life confuse the fuck out of her because shes so used to thinking about The Grand Design that she genuinely doesnt have any fuckin idea what "normalcy" is

in the cut content for the mimic tear questline, when you LITERALLY have a goo parasite living INSIDE YOUR BODY, melina responds to the foreign presence by ONCE AGAIN pulling you aside and asking you if thats NORMAL. "did you... want that, to happen???" she asks, as if people choose to host shapeshifting blasphemy oozes the same way i choose to be brand loyal to skullcandy headphones with built in mic. people crying because they miss their dead mom and ur sworn partner in crime rolling up with a blood parasite yoinked from a forsaken city register the same level of confusion from her.

stop posting sexy melina art, she isnt dtf she does NOT know HOW children happen, only that they DO (and its a good thing! people having families is good, probably, she thinks).

less horny melina, more melina being a fucking weirdo. melina doesnt pose in lingerie, she sits in ur apartment and rummages thru ur pantry before cautiously mixing four loko and vanilla extract into cup noodles and asking you to try it when you get home to carefully note the results and wax poetic about the ability to eat. if you run a faith build or just carry Flames Cleanse Me, theres a solid case of evidence that she might not realize Poison Kills People. she operates on spectrum extremes and not even in the normal range. melina sees you cut urself chopping onions and goes to cast a max power erdtree heal because your bleeding, but then when you say its fine assumes that blood just comes out of people sometimes and thinks you can tank a waterfowl dance without worry

further evidence: her only known source of companionship before meeting your tarnished is the fucking horse. she talked to the horse, regularly, and values the horses opinions on important moral dilemmas, and also refers to the horses opinion on deciding who to hitch her chain to on the matter of Deciding The Fate Of The World. like, same, but you cant make the argument that thats comprehensive socialization

[lilyrizzy]

Anything abo would be awesome. I don't think there is much Daniel in rut anywhere. Daniel's POV is so underrated, it huuuurttss

Thank you for this lovely prompt! I agree, Daniel’s POV & rut content are lacking and v underrated. Hope you can enjoy this (despite it being a bit short, sorry it’s been a day)!

Daniel can smell Max, stronger than usual these last few weeks, seeping underneath the door.

Vanilla, so rich the taste coats his tongue as he takes deep breaths, with the usual softer note of synthetic coconut underneath. Sun cream.

It makes his dick throb, and he digs his fingers harder into the grey-green ceramic of the sink.

“Max,” he groans, voice hoarse, “I need a minute.”

Max tries the door again, rattling it against the lock Daniel slid secure the moment he shut himself inside the bathroom. He can’t tell if the fogginess he feels is because of the need rising inside him, or because he only woke up ten minutes ago, desperately grinding himself between Max’s thighs. He feels like the waves we would watch from the beach back home, cresting too quickly to avoid, capable of so much damage.

He’s never had an unexpected rut before. Usually, he knows exactly when they’ll be and he can talk to Max, make sure he’s ready for it. Now he just feels unprepared, and it hits him that this used to happen to Max, whose heats had no real rhythm until they bonded, for the first three years of his F1 career.

Max whines and his scent dives down, turning slightly sour. He’s unhappy. “Daniel,” he tries again, “Please. Come out.”

Daniel can’t- He can’t think clearly with Max smelling like that, sounding like that when he needs- When the base of him already feels so tender.

“Tell me it’s okay.” He begs, desperate. Needs to hear it before he can let himself touch Max. “I can’t- I don’t want to hurt you.”  He’ll never understand how Max gives himself over to heat so sweetly. It makes Daniel sick how much he trusts him when all Daniel can picture now, in the beginning of his rut, is how pretty Max will look after he’s marked him up with his teeth.

“It did not hurt. Last time.”

It’s a lie. Daniel can remember the way Max winced toward the end, when Daniel tried to push inside him, sore and sensitive. Remembers having to jerk off onto the tattoo of his bite on Max’s hipbone instead, rubbing it into his skin as he knotted his own fist.

The memory is normally unpleasant, one that makes Daniel want to scrub his brain with a scouring pad. Now, it just makes him harder and he has to wrap a hand around himself to ease the ache.

“It was- good,” Max is saying, relentless on the other side of the door. “I would like- let me help you. Please.”

There’s a war raging inside Daniel. The need to make Max happy, stop him from sounding so desperate, and the need to stay behind this locked door so he can’t eat him alive. He just wants to give them what they both need, but he can’t tell what that is through the haze that’s settled inside his head.

“Tell me what you want.” He normally knows, can read Max as easily as the data for his car, but now he just can’t think.

“Daniel,” Max tries the door again. Then, softly, “I need you.”

Daniel’s opening the door before he has time to think, feet carrying him across tiles that are so cold they hurt his burning skin. Max’s eyes widen and he takes a few steps back, letting Daniel crowd him until he’s sat on the edge of the bed. His little omega dick is red and hard between his legs. Daniel wants to push Max back into sheets that smell so strongly of the both of them and make him beg for Daniel to touch him there.

“I’m going to fuck you.” He says instead. He tries to phrase it like it’s something Max can say no to if he wants, but it doesn’t quite carry in the gravel of his voice.

Max tilts his head back, eyes slipping shut. “Yes,” he says, tongue wetting his soft lips. Daniel’s hand wraps around the throat Max is baring for him.

“Then I’m going to knot you.”

Max whimpers. “Please.” At least Daniel can trust this; Max loves it so much, even outside of heat, of rut.

Daniel can smell his slick, see it shining on his thighs. He cups Max, two fingers reaching back to sink inside him. The rush of wetness that comes shatters the last of Daniel’s control, and he’s pulling his fingers out to tip Max onto his back and shove his dick in.

“Daniel, Daniel,” Max chants, needy sounds falling easily from his lips. It’s too much, Max underneath him, Daniel was already halfway knotted up in the bathroom just from hearing Max beg for him through a door.

He runs a hand down Max’s chest, over his sensitive little tits, down his side. When he gets to his stomach, an image of Max, ripe and round, full of a baby Daniel gave him flashes in front of his eyes as quick as a camera shutter. He comes with a groan, orgasm tearing through him like a bad hit.

This first tie will be the longest, like always. Daniel’s still coming, pulsing deep inside Max, when he moves to take him into his hand and find’s he’s already wet. They’re both covered in come that’s still spurting out Max’s dick where the throb of Daniel’s knot must be milking it out of him.

“Maxy,” Daniel groans, and Max opens his eyes. They’re wet. Daniel can’t help leaning down to kiss him, hips already moving again, knot tugging against Max’s stretched rim making them both shake.

[angelasscribbles]

Bad Romance Chapter 21: Engagements, Planes and Confessions

Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Multiple

Paring this chapter: Riley x Maxwell

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

Word Count: 4,631

Song Inspiration: Follow You by Imagine Dragons

A/N: The Beaumont's are not broke is this series. Because it's so cringey otherwise and smacks of pimping her out.

A/N 2: This is another flashback chapter. The more I write this, the more backstory presents itself to me, so I pass it on to you.

A/N 3: I've noticed that when Liam is dominate most readers find it hot, but when Riley is, some readers feel bad for the guy. I just would like to point out that submission isn't about gender, it's about personality. Men can enjoy submission, woman can enjoy being dominant. In this fic, Riley is clearly a switch (meaning she can be either depending on the situation and/or partner she's with.) Liam is mostly dominate but a little bit of a switch, as we've seen. Max is completely submissive, he is not a switch. What's depicted here portrays a bit of that. These are BDSM terms, but this does not really portray BDSM. The sex itself is still pretty vanilla, with just a vague sprinkling of the D/s dynamic. (That's an abbreviated for a Dom/sub type relationship). Feel free to DM me with questions or comments. I know I push the envelope of what a lot of you are familiar with sometimes.

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons

General blanket warning for series: Smutty, Lemony, Awful, Toxic Relationships with lots of cheating. This is a hot mess express; no one is happy, everyone is in love with the wrong person, every relationship depicted herein is generally and massively fucked up. You’ve been warned.

My other stuff: Master List.

Five weeks ago……

The knock startled him. It was late, he had been almost asleep. He rubbed his eyes as he made his way to the door, pulling it open with a yawn. His eyes widened in surprise, “Riley. What are you doing here?”

“Come on, Max, get dressed.” She said stepping into the room. She was holding two bottles of champagne in her hand, “We’re going to celebrate!”

His eyes narrowed, “Ok…” She sounded anything but celebratory.

“Let’s go to the place and do the thing!” She sang out.

“Really?” He asked, trying to clear the fog from his brain.

“Really!” She was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

He glanced at the clock. It was well after midnight, but hell if he cared. “Give me a sec.” He told her as he quickly pulled off his pajama bottoms and got dressed.

They snuck out of the palace through the secret passageways and into the garages. She climbed giggling into the trunk until the car was through the checkpoint. They just waved Max through, but Riley would have been stopped and a guard would have been assigned to follow her.

Max pulled over around the curve in the road, out of sight of the palace. He popped open the trunk and helped her out. “That never gets old.”

“It’s like I’m a spy or something.” She told him as she climbed into the passenger seat of his Ferrari 488 Spider.

“I mean…you are pretty good at sneaking out of the palace. Are you sure you haven’t been getting pointers from Leo?”

She laughed, “No. But if you think I’m on Leo’s level, then I’ll take that as the high compliment it is.”

“So….do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet, that’s what the place is for.” She responded, then turned the radio up, “Could we put the top down?”

“Sure.” He lowered the top of the metallic red sports car and turned the music all the way up.

Riley threw her head back and whooped out loud. She kicked her shoes off then pulled a corkscrew out, opening the first bottle of champagne. She took a long drink then offered it to Max. He shook his head as he shifted gears, giving her a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road.

Riley turned sidewise in her seat, leaning her head on his shoulder and sticking her feet out the window, the wind tickling her toes as they moved in time to the music. She sang at the top of her lungs and drank champagne straight from the bottle.

The car took a turn off the main road and fishtailed a little. Riley was used to Max not slowing down for corners, so she was prepared and only spilled a little. His driving didn’t scare her, he hadn’t wiped out yet, she reasoned. Besides, she’d ridden with Drake and if she could survive his driving, she could survive anyone’s. He drifted into a tiny, graveled parking area and came to a stop. Shutting the car off, he turned to Riley, “Ok, blanket is in the trunk, let’s go.”

Riley handed Max the two bottles of champagne then tossed him the corkscrew, “Sorry to disappoint you, but no sabers tonight.” She grabbed the blanket in one hand and entwined the fingers of her other hand with his. They walked through the moonlight to the top of a small hill. Looking down from the hill, they could see the fence at the end of the airport and the planes on the tarmac getting ready for takeoff.

Max sat the bottles down so he could help Riley spread the blanket out on the ground, then they sat down on it.

“No picnic this time.” Riley said.

“Nope.” Max agreed, “I didn’t have any notice this time.”

“You always come up with the best adventures.” She told him as she took another drink.

“Yeah, that’s what you always tell me.” He pulled the bottle from her hands and took a swig himself, “Want to tell me what we’re doing here?”

“Remember the first time you brought me out here?” She asked as she took the bottle back.

He wrapped his arms around his knees as he answered her, “Of course I do. It was the night before the derby, and you were nervous about having to talk to the press.”

She handed him the bottle and flopped down on her stomach, grinning up at him, “Who knew watching planes take off over us would be so relaxing?”

“Me. I knew.” He sighed as he looked down into her face. She had been so entranced with the planes that night. It had become one of their favorite places to go when she wanted to get away from court for a little while. They’d stopped coming when she’d broken up with him to be with Liam. This was the first time they’d been back since.

Here comes one! Lay down!” She demanded as she turned over onto her back.

Max laid down beside her, crossing his arms behind his head. He turned his head to watch her face as the plane roared over them.

Her eyes were glued on the sky above them. The sound was almost deafening, and the plane was so close, she’d never been that close to a plane she wasn’t boarding. Especially while it was in the air and she was on the ground. She was sure that if she stood up and jumped really high, she could touch it. There was something magical about being so close to it as it lurched itself into the heavens.

The roar faded away as the plane climbed into the sky. Even though she knew it was an optical illusion, she loved the way it seemed to be standing still, suspended in the air above them for a while. She drew in a deep breath then turned her head to find Max watching her. “What?”

His eyes bored into her, cobalt blue like celestial fire glass, the weight of his gaze damn near physical. She shivered at the intensity she found there.

He rolled onto his side and reached a hand out to stroke her cheek, his touch feather light as his fingertips grazed her skin. “I love you, Riley.”

“What?” Surprise thrilled through her.

“I said I love you. That can’t be news to you.” His hand stopped moving but his thumb ran along her lower lip.

“You’ve never said it before.” Her eyes held his as every feeling she’d never spoken ran through them.

Max snorted, dropping his hand and rolling away from her. He sat up and his fingers pulled at loose threads in the blanket as he focused his gaze there while asking, “When should I have said it? When I first met you and you were sleeping with me, but still in the competition for Liam? I assumed it was just fun and games for you. I mean, it was for me too, at first. Then you dumped me for him, remember?” He glanced at her then away again, “Was I supposed to say it then? That felt wrong, manipulative.”

“What about after the coronation and all the shit that happened then?” She sat up, crossed her legs and focused her attention on his face.

He brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them again. He looked up at the stars with a sigh, “That also felt wrong. You were going through hell, Ri. I wasn’t going to add my shit to it. I was trying to just be there for you, as a friend.”

“So why now?”

“I mean…maybe my excuses were all just that…excuses. It never seemed like a good time to say it. But at this point, not saying it is starting to feel dishonest.”

“You know I’m engaged to Liam.” She said carefully.

“I do.” He sighed again, shifting his gaze to her, “I was there when he made the announcement tonight. I’m not telling you how I feel because I expect anything to change between us, or to try and sway you away from whatever it is you’re doing with Liam. Or Drake, even, for that matter. I just…wanted you to know. You don’t have to feel the same way. You don’t owe me anything in return. I just feel better having said it than not, that’s all.”

“Max….”

“Don’t make it weird, Ri. I told you, you don’t have to say it back.”

“But I do love you, Max.” She said softly.

“What?”

“I do. And it’s so fucking weird, because I swear, I had never been in love in my life until I came here. Then I fell in love with Liam, and he stomped all over my fucking heart. Which, you’d think would make me revert back to my old ways, no commitments, always leave first, never get your heart involved, never let ‘em see you sweat, blah blah blah…. And that’s exactly what I intended, what I told myself, but then you…and Drake….”

She paused and lifted the bottle to her lips, tipping her head back as she took a long drink. Lowering the bottle, she whispered, more to herself than to Max, “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Ok, I get that you’re having an existential crisis or something right now, but let’s not gloss over the important part. You know, the part where you love me.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of her at the expression on his face. It was equal parts happiness, teasing and disbelief. She shook her head as she tossed the empty bottle to the side. “You’re such a dork.”

“Did you just say that I’m adorable? Is that what I heard?”

She giggled as she became aware of the roar in the background, gradually getting louder. “Oh! Here comes a landing!” She shoved him back and threw herself down on the blanket to watch the plane as it dropped toward them, seemingly slowly at first then faster and faster until it hurtled over them with a rush of wind and sound, temporarily deafening.

“Wow! That never disappoints.” She breathed.

“No, you do not.” He scooted closer to her and leaned in, capturing her lips with his own. She snuggled into him as the kiss deepened, the familiar sparks of electricity that she always ignited in his body trickled through him.

All he wanted to do was get lost in that kiss, but there were answers he needed first. He pulled away from her reluctantly. “So, are we going to talk about this engagement?”

She drew the cool night air into her lungs and began to talk. Shock crawled across his face as she told him what had happened.

She’d been completely blindsided when Liam had announced their engagement. An engagement that she’d known nothing about until moments before the press conference. She’d told him no in New York. But he’d come back home and filed the contract anyway. The contract she’d signed when she thought he loved her. He’d slid the ring on her finger just before he’d stepped up to the podium, and she’d plastered on a fake smile and climbed up onto the stage beside him.

Max had been in the audience, so had Drake, and she hadn’t been able to get to either one of them to explain things, to give them any kind of warning. Drake hadn’t even tried to speak to her, he’d turned and walked away while she was still on stage, and he wasn’t returning her calls or texts.

It had taken her hours to get free from the press and the well-wishers, not to mention the meeting she’d had to endure with the royal council after everything else was over.

But she’d know that, despite everything, Max would open his door for her. And he had.

“So I am, in fact, engaged to Liam, whether I want to be or not.” She finished, with a note of despair in her voice.

“Fuck, Riley. I’m so sorry,” Max shook his head in stunned disbelief, “That’s beyond messed up. I can’t believe he did that!”

“I can.” Liam had not stopped trying to get her back since the night at Madeleine’s estate when the engagement tour had kicked off. Being engaged to Madeleine hadn’t slowed him down one bit. Once he’d broken the engagement to her, he’d only ramped up his pursuit.

“Riley! Riley!”

The insistent pounding urged her out of bed. She pulled the door open, bleary eyed, to find Liam in the hallway outside her hotel room. “What the fuck, Liam?”

He didn’t bother to wait to be invited in, he just pushed the door open and walked into the room. She glanced over her shoulder at the bed. It was empty. Her eyes went to the bathroom door. It was closed.

“I have something to tell you. I broke the engagement with Madeleine tonight.”

“Ok….”

“Don’t you see? This means we can be together, I’m free to-“

“What about the scandal, Liam? Engaged to the ice princess or not, the council will never allow you to marry me with the scandal hanging over my head.”

“That’s the best part.” He crowed. He was practically jumping up and down, his body vibrating with happiness as he thrust his phone at her, an article from the Cordonian Star on the screen.

“Lady Riley Brooks/Lord Maxwell Beaumont pictures photoshopped!” The headline screamed.

She grabbed the phone from his hand, and quickly scanned the article, “What? Someone admitted to photoshopping the pictures? Who? Why? They weren’t photoshopped, they were real!”

“I paid someone to confess.”

“What?!”

“I paid him, a lot.” He said taking the phone back, “It’s not illegal to photoshop pictures, he won’t serve any jail time and the amount of money I paid him guarantees he’ll never take back his confession. Even if he does, it’ll be too late, we’ll already be married, and no one will believe him. Even if they do, I don’t care!”

Her eyes flicked up to him, “Ok, but-“

“Riley, love, don’t you see? The scandal is neutralized, my father has been neutralized, he won’t, can’t hurt us again and I’m now free to do what I want. I’m already king, they can’t take that back. We can be together now.” He reached for her, his hand grazing her shoulder as she jerked away.

“Oh, great, now that you don’t have to worry about being embarrassed by the fact that I wasn’t some fucking vestibule virgin-“

“I never cared about that!”

“Well, you sure could have fooled me! Once those pictures were published, you couldn’t put distance between us fast enough!”

“Because I didn’t know who was behind it and I had to protect you from my enemies! They had to believe I didn’t care about you so that you wouldn’t be a target, I’ve told you this!”

Riley sighed and rubbed her temples. It was the same old argument and he never seemed to even try and understand her side of it. She glanced at the closed bathroom door again and decided on a different tact, “It’s late, Liam, can we talk about this later?”

“Sure, ok, tomorrow? I can pick you up-“

“We’re going to Coney Island tomorrow.”

“We?”

“Yes, we! Me and Max, Hana and Drake-“

“Ok, I’ll join you! What time should I be here?”

She pressed her lips together in annoyance but in the interest of getting him out of the room, she gave him a quick rundown of the day’s itinerary.

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow, and then, the night after that, will you let me take you out? We have things to talk about.”

“Fine.” She agreed, mostly to get him to leave.

Once he was out of the room, she knocked on the bathroom door, “You can come out now, Drake, he’s gone.”

“So, what do you want to do about it?”

“What can I do?” She asked as she plunged the corkscrew into the second bottle, jerking the cork out and tossing it, and the corkscrew, to the side to land next to the empty bottle. She tipped the new bottle back and took several long draughts.

Max reached for the bottle, “Maybe you’ve had enough of that.”

“What? No! We’re celebrating, remember? I’m engaged! I’m going to be queen, I’m marrying the love of my life, right?” She took the bottle back.

“Riley…”

“What, Max? I should feel like the luckiest woman in the world right now, shouldn’t I? This is everything I wanted six weeks ago. Have you seen the size of this ring? This thing is worth more money that I’ve made in my entire life.” She held her left out to him as she tipped the bottle back with her right.

Max barely glanced at it. “You could break the contract….”

She drew in a shuddering breath as she fought back tears, “No, Max, I can’t. There are penalties for that. I don’t have money for the fees-“

“I do, you know you don’t ever have to worry about that. My family has more money than God.”

“I know and I appreciate that, but it’s not just that. I could be deported; your family could be stripped of their lands and titles-“

Max shook his head, “Liam wouldn’t do that.”

“I don’t know, Max, he might.”

“No. I’ve known him my whole life. There’s no way, he just not that-“

“You didn’t see the look in his eyes. I’ve never seen him like that. He was frantic, desperate. He’s going to do whatever it takes to get me back.” The hell of it was, if he’d been truly apologetic, she might have found a way to forgive him. But he was still steadfastly dug in that he had done the right thing. She sighed as she tipped the bottle back again.

“Hey.” He said as he brushed her hair away from her face, “We’ll figure it out. There has to be a way. You don’t have to have all the answers tonight.”

“You’re right!” She wiped her cheeks, thunked the bottle down on the ground next to the blanket then turned back to him with a smile. “I can think of better things to do.”

Max’s eyes widened at the expression on her face. “What? Now? Here?”

“Why not?” She asked as she crawled across the blanket to him. It was pitch dark and somewhere near four in the morning, there would be no more planes for hours. No one would see them. She wasn’t sure she’d care if they did.

Max froze as she climbed onto his lap and straddled him. “I can’t think of a single reason why not. In fact, I suddenly can’t seem to think at all.” His hands landed on her hips then moved under her shirt and traced up her back.

Her hand sank into his hair and tugged him forward into a kiss. He leaned up into it, biting into her bottom lip, sliding his tongue between her lips, savoring the taste of champagne mingling with her natural sweetness.

He had some vague notion that he should object, that maybe she wasn’t in the right headspace for sex, but she stripped away all his hesitance, all his reticence along with his clothes. His shirt unbuttoned, the sides fluttering in the gentle breeze, his pants unfastened, she placed a palm on his chest and pushed him back onto the blanket.

“Good.” She giggled, reaching for the bottle of champagne.

“Riley, what are you-aaahhhh!” His back arched up off the ground as the cold champagne splashed across his bare skin. “That’s going to be sticky.”

“Don’t worry, I can fix that. Hold still.” She lowered her head and lapped the sweet, tangy liquid off his body, her tongue running from just below his navel to the hollow of his neck; her lips sucking and tasting every inch of him.

His head pushed back against the ground, low, soft moans spilling out of him. He pulled short, sharp gasps of air in and out of his lungs as his body began to tremble. Heat surged through him, belying the coolness of the night. “Can I touch you now?”

She stared down into his eyes as if considering the request then shook her head, “Not yet.” The longer she made him wait, the longer she denied him, the higher the anticipation climbed, the bigger the payoff would be.

She moved off him to slide her panties down her legs. She leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows and spread her legs apart with a seductive grin.

Crooking a finger at him she told him, “Come here.”

Max flipped himself over and positioned himself between her legs.

Riley picked up the champagne bottle again, “Want a drink?” She titled the bottle over herself and let it dribble down the crevice between her legs, the cold liquid a sharp shock against the warmth pulsating there.

Max caught it on his tongue as it dripped from her, lapping and licking up her folds, swallowing it, the taste of champagne mixed with her juices sending him into a frenzy of activity as he followed the trickle up to her swollen, rock hard nub.

Pleasure jolted through her as his tongue made contact with her clit. She tossed the bottle to the side. It made a soft thud as it hit the ground, contents sloshing as it rolled down the hill, forgotten. Both hands sank into his hair as she bucked her body up into his mouth with soft groans and gasps that built in intensity. “Fuck yes, Max! Make me scream.”

He sucked her into his mouth as his tongue flicked and pushed at her, until the universe burst open and she screamed out his name. Her legs wrapped around his neck and she held him to her while the orgasm finished pulsing through her.

He licked her one last time then pulled away, grinning, “I’m never going to look at a bottle of champagne the same way again.”

“Best use I’ve ever found for it.” She laughed as she sat up and leaned into him for a kiss. Lips still locked on his, she pushed him back onto the ground with the weight of her body.

“Pull your pants down.” She told him.

He quickly lifted his hips and shoved his pants down to tangle around his ankles, then lowered his body back onto the blanket and looked to her for further instructions. He craved her attention, her commands, he only desired to please her, his goddess. Obeying her was the most erotic thing he could imagine.

She rewarded him with a smile, “Good boy.” His compliance, his immediate response to her demands, his complete submission ramped up her desire to the point that she was already teetering on the edge again.

The deep velvety darkness enveloped them as she slid herself onto him. The music of frog song impossibly loud in the stillness of the night, the dark penetrated by the stars, bright pinpricks of light above them.

“I’m yours, Riley.” He whispered as she moved on top of him.

She ground herself against him then pitched forward to sink her teeth into his chest in an attempt to muffle her screams, to keep them from floating down to airport security below them. The strength of the second orgasm slammed through her and she whimpered into his chest.

She squirted, the hot liquid coating his dick as he felt her clench around him. He thrust himself up into her, fingers digging into her ass, as he exploded inside her. He couldn’t suppress the cry of ecstasy that escaped him.

Riley pulled back to look into his face, flushed, breathing heavy, eyes closed, lips parted and she didn’t care if it was a word usually reserved for women, she thought he was beautiful. She loved the way his face looked right after he came. It was pure bliss. She sighed contentedly as she rolled off him and collapsed on the ground next to him.

He turned his head to her, “I wonder if anyone heard us.”

She giggled, “What are they going to do about it, if they did?”

“I don’t know, but we probably aren’t supposed to be out here so late.”

“They literally can’t do anything to me, I’m the queen in waiting now, remember? Don’t worry, Max, I’ll protect you!” She laughed at her own joke.

His laughter joined her own, she felt it vibrating against her cheek as she rested her head on his chest and his arms went around her. Her fingers traced soft lines up and down his body.

They lay there, watching the stars for a while, then he kissed the top of her head with a sigh and said, “We should probably get back before we fall asleep out here.”

“Let’s just sleep out here.”

“I mean, I would, but you’re shivering, Ri.”

He was right, she was. Mid-September in Cordonia brought warm days and chilly nights. Besides that, the sun would come up soon and someone was bound to come along and find them. There was a playground just downhill from them and park maintenance made their rounds early.

“Fine. But I’m staying in your room.”

“You know I don’t have a problem with that. But aren’t you worried Liam will come looking for you?”

“I think he knows better right now. He said he’d give me a few days to, and I quote, calm the fuck down.”

Max shook his head, “I still can’t believe he did that, Ri, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Max.” She sat up with a sigh, “Just, thank you, for always being here for me, ok?”

He sat up and rubbed her shoulders, “You don’t have to thank me for that, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than by your side.”

“I should have just married you, Max. Or Drake, even. I should have gotten married to someone else so that he couldn’t have filed that damn contract!”

“But you aren’t ready to get married, Riley. You barely believe in marriage.” He didn’t care if she married him, or someone else, or no one at all. He just wanted her to be happy.

“That’s true. I was doing it for him, because he needed to be married to ascend the throne and I loved him. I didn’t want him to marry anyone else, so I signed that stupid ass contract and now look. It’s true, what they say. No good deed goes unpunished.”

Max stood, stretched, then turned and took her hands, pulling her to her feet. “We’ll figure it out, and I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

“Even if I’m married to one of your best friends? Even if I’m your fucking queen?” She asked as they gathered up the empty bottles and the blanket.

“No matter what means no matter what. I’d think you’d understand that by now. Besides, most royal marriages aren’t based on love. Affairs, taking lovers on the side is so commonplace among royalty that it’s pretty much considered a given. Hell, we even have an amendment to the marriage contract to formalize the agreement, that’s how accepted it is.” He answered her as they walked back down the hill, bodies bumping gently into each other as they went.

“What?” She laughed as the car came into view.

“Yeah, it’s called a Cordonian Arrangment.” He told her as he popped open the trunk and they deposited everything into it.

“Really?” She asked as she climbed into the passenger seat, “Tell me all about it.”

He did. He talked as he drove and an idea began to form in her head.