#had to draw my babes in an au
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livfordoodles · 6 months ago
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Challengers AU 🎾
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tokyoteddywolf · 10 months ago
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Shadow Giratina on a string what crimes will they commit
Bebe Wyrm is full of Sin :D
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dreamsb0u · 1 year ago
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tw knife
killerganger/doppelganger killer belongs to @ask-doppelganger-killer
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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago
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ichinyan still likes dragon quest. by the way.
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rafecameronssl4t · 27 days ago
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idk if you’ve watched love island uk s8 but for the love island au can u make a story inspired by gemma and luca where reader’s ex comes into the villa and makes rafe jealous and a scene where reader accidentally calls rafe her ex’s name
+ i absolutely love ur stories <3
Guilty as sin? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (love island au)
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A/n: S8 OF LOVE ISLAND UK IS MY FAV 😭😭 (there will be a part 2 bc it was getting too long but I'll post it soon as well so the wait won't be too long!!)
Warnings: slight angst if u squint ig lol
Word count: 2,746
MASTERLIST
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divider by @h-aewo
You spot Rafe across the villa’s airy kitchen, caught up in a conversation with the other guys. Without a second thought, you walk towards them and call his name, excitement clear in your voice. “Rafe! Rafe! He turns at the sound, his brows knitting in slight confusion as you tug his arm, urging him to step aside with you. “Yeah?” he asks, his tone curious as he searches your face.
The hint of a smile curls at his lips when he sees how eager you are. “Sofia just got a text,” you say, a little breathless, unable to keep the smile off your face as you watch his reaction. “A text?” he repeats, eyebrows lifting. “What did it say?” “It said, ‘Girls, there will be a surprise for you tomorrow morning," you reveal, and his eyes widen, the full impact hitting him.
He crosses his arms, tilting his head as he watches you. “Wait—another guy’s coming into the villa?” You nod, feeling his gaze intensify as he studies you with a playful smirk. But before you can say anything, Lucinda’s voice echoes across the villa, singling you out. “Y/n, you simp!” she calls out, half-laughing, clearly catching onto your excitement.
You turn and laugh, calling back with a grin, “I wasn’t telling him anything!” She rolls her eyes in good-natured mock annoyance as she walks past, but you can’t help but giggle at the playful accusation. Rafe’s attention returns to you, his smirk deepening as he takes a step closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear. “So,” he murmurs, leaning in, “are you excited?”
“Excited for?” you playfully tilt your head, looking up at him with a feigned innocence. His hands slip around your waist, drawing you in until there’s barely any space between you, and his eyes search yours, warm with amusement. “The new guy coming,” he challenges, his voice low and teasing.
You pretend to consider his question, tapping your finger against your lips, scrunching your face as though deep in thought. “Mmm… maybe just a little?” you tease, letting the words roll off your tongue as you watch his expression darken with playful jealousy. Rafe scoffs, his hand falling to your hip as he gives you a gentle push, his smirk still lingering.
“Oh, really?” he mocks, his tone dripping with amusement as his fingers skim the small of your back. You laugh, slipping your arms around his neck and pressing your forehead to his. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” you reassure him, your voice softening. “Why would I even look his way when you’re right here?”
His face softens, a genuine smile breaking through as he lifts you off the ground, his arms tightening around you. He peppers kisses along the side of your neck, each one making you squirm and giggle as you cling to him, laughing. “Rafe!” you squeal, struggling to keep a straight face. “I need to go get ready!”
He finally sets you down, but not before stealing one last kiss. Just as you turn to leave, he smirks, his hand sliding down to give you a playful smack on the ass. You whip around, giving him a mock-glare, but he just grins, completely unbothered. “See you later,” he calls out, chuckling as you roll your eyes and walk away, unable to hide your smile.
~
“Sofia, you look gorgeous, babe!” you squeal, clasping her hands and giving her a little twirl. She giggles, cheeks flushed, excitement lighting up her eyes. The new guy had just chosen her for a date, and you couldn’t be happier for her. With all the girls hyping her up, it’s a moment of pure joy.
Linking arms, you and the other girls make your way to the balcony, eager to catch a glimpse of the date unfolding below. From up here, you have a perfect view, though the new guy’s back is to you, obscuring his face. “What are you girls doing?” a voice asks, pulling your attention. You glance over your shoulder to find the guys walking in, curiosity evident in their expressions.
As they come closer, you shush them playfully, grabbing Rafe’s hand and pulling him toward you. He doesn’t resist, settling behind you as his arms wrap warmly around your shoulders. Leaning back against him, you focus on the figure in the distance. But something about the guy’s tattoos catches your attention.
A chill pricks at your skin, a sense of familiarity hitting you hard. You squint, taking a closer look, and suddenly, it all clicks. Your heart skips a beat, and the realisation makes your stomach twist. “No, no, no, no…” you gasp, ducking down quickly onto the lounge, unable to tear your eyes away. Your reaction sends the others into a flurry of confusion.
“What?” Rafe asks, brow furrowing as he glances down at you, concern slipping into his expression. You press a hand over your mouth, whispering, “That’s my ex!” The words come out in a mix of disbelief and shock as you look back at the girls, wide-eyed. “What?” Lucinda breathes, glancing back toward the balcony with a look of pure disbelief.
“I’m not joking,” you chuckle, though it’s a nervous laugh. “That is my ex-boyfriend.” Rafe stays silent, his arm still around you, his gaze shifting between you and the new guy below. You don’t notice his reaction, too busy processing the whirlwind of emotions yourself. It feels surreal.
“You’re lying!” one of the girls gasps, her tone a mix of amusement and shock. You shake your head, peeking over the edge once more for confirmation. The familiar way he holds himself, the tattoos, even his laugh—it’s all undeniably him. “No, I swear to god, that’s him. Shit!” You cover your mouth, feeling a bizarre mix of dread and disbelief bubbling up.
Rafe’s still silent, his eyes dark and unreadable as he watches you, a slight tension in his grip around your shoulders. But your mind races too fast to register it fully.“How long were you two together?” Leah asks, her curiosity piqued. “Like… a year and a half?” you mumble, still processing, voice distant as you dredge up the memories.
“And how long ago?” she presses. “Uh, ten months ago, I think?” you say, distracted as you peek again at the scene below. It’s hard to believe he’s here, in this villa with you. And as you try to make sense of it, the lingering tension in Rafe’s silence seems to settle heavily over you, but you’re not quite ready to face that just yet.
As you glance back at the date, you catch sight of Rafe slipping away, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t say anything, and you let him go, feeling an odd tension settle in your chest but brushing it off for now. There’s plenty to process already.
~
Once the date wraps up, Sofia rejoins you and the other girls in the makeup room, still glowing from her time with Jacques. You’re finishing up getting ready when Leah gives her an excited smile. “So, how was it?” she asks, her curiosity bright. Sofia’s smile widens, her cheeks flushed. “He’s gorgeous! So sweet, and we just talked non-stop. He’s so easy to be around!”
You smile back, watching her giddy expression. It’s clear she’s caught up in the excitement, and you’re genuinely happy for her, even with the twist of awkwardness lurking beneath the surface. “What’s his name?” Leah presses, a hint of mischief in her tone. “Jacques,” Sofia replies, her voice light and dreamy. But her answer shifts the atmosphere slightly.
The girls glance at each other, then at you, their expressions turning curious and cautious. Noticing the looks, Sofia raises an eyebrow. “What?” she laughs nervously, sensing she’s missing something. You clear your throat, managing a chuckle. “He’s my ex,” you say, unable to help the small, amused smile that crosses your face.
Sofia’s jaw drops, and she stares at you in shock. “No! What? Are you serious?” She looks between you and the others, trying to piece together this unexpected twist. “Yep,” you reply, laughing at her reaction. “It was about ten months ago, though, so it’s ancient history.” “And… how do you feel about it?” Sofia asks, a cautious look in her eyes.
You know she’s asking if there are still any lingering feelings or unfinished business. You shake your head, waving off any notion of that. “I mean, obviously it’s weird seeing him here, but I’m totally over him. There’s no way I’d want to rekindle what we had, you know?” You smile, reassuring her that there’s no reason for her to hold back with Jacques.
Sofia visibly relaxes, a relieved smile crossing her face. “Good. That’s honestly such a relief,” she laughs, and you exchange a small, supportive nod. “How do you think Rafe feels about all this?” Hannah asks, her eyes flicking toward the door where Rafe had left earlier. Her question makes you pause, recalling his sudden silence and the look on his face.
You shrug, trying to play it off casually. “I don’t really know, but he shouldn’t be worried at all,” you say, adding a chuckle to lighten the mood as you resume getting ready for the day Still, a small part of you wonders if Rafe had taken it harder than you realised, and maybe a talk was in order. But for now, you push the thought aside.
~
After Jacques finishes his other date, the girls gather outside to greet him, buzzing with excitement. You hang back slightly, watching as he makes his way through the introductions, charm turned all the way up. There’s an odd, surreal feeling creeping up as you watch him joke and laugh with your friends. Finally, his gaze lands on you, and a knowing, mischievous smile spreads across his face.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” he says with a smirk, his arms opening for a hug. You roll your eyes, giving him a mock look of exasperation. But despite yourself, you lean in, wrapping your arms around him for a brief hug. “Nice to meet you… dickhead,” you reply, tone playful yet loaded with familiarity.
He lets out a low laugh, clearly amused. “Still the same as ever,” he chuckles, giving you a wink that’s both teasing and a little too comfortable. You shake your head, a smile slipping onto your face despite yourself, as you walk with the girls toward the kitchen. They look between you and Jacques with wide, curious eyes, and you can feel the questions bubbling up.
“Well, that was… friendly,” Lucinda says with a smirk, nudging you as you all start gathering glasses and setting things up for the night. You shrug, feigning indifference. “Honestly, it’s just weird, seeing him here. But hey, if Sofia’s into him, good for her,” you say, keeping your voice light, though you can feel Rafe’s absence tugging at the back of your mind.
He had yet to say anything about Jacques since he left earlier, and you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that you needed to find him. Just then, Jacques strolls into the kitchen, joining the group with that same confident smile. His gaze lands on you for a second longer than it probably should, and the other girls exchange glances.
You pretend not to notice, fully focused on making a coffee. Sofia nudges you with a playful grin. “He’s cute, right?” she says, winking at you. You laugh, giving her a shrug. “If you’re into that kind of thing,” you say with a teasing smirk. But deep down, your mind is already drifting to Rafe, wondering what he’s thinking about all of this. The day's only beginning, and you can already tell it’s going to be an interesting one.
~
The guys settle in around the firepit, the evening sun casting a warm glow as conversation shifts toward you. Rafe sits back, sunglasses on, trying to keep his cool while sneaking glances in your direction. You’re in the kitchen with the girls, laughing and seemingly at ease, but Rafe can’t help but feel a subtle edge of tension.
“So, serious question, mate,” Rob starts, giving Jacques a curious glance. “Are you Y/n’s ex?” Jacques just hums with a nod, the smirk on his face saying more than words could. Rafe’s attention sharpens at that, though he tries to keep his posture relaxed, his focus seemingly elsewhere.
“What’s she been saying about it?” Jacques asks with a raised eyebrow, glancing toward the kitchen. “Like, how’s she feelin’ about all this?” Rafe shifts, keeping his composure, though he’s attuned to every word. “Bit awkward having your ex in here, right?” he comments, his voice casual but probing. Jacques shrugs, the ease in his posture unmissable.
“Eh, maybe for her. But me? I’m pretty chill about it. Honestly, I couldn’t give a fuck,” he says with a chuckle, a careless grin spreading across his face. “It is what it is. We’ve moved on.” Rafe nods slowly, assessing Jacques. He can’t help but feel a certain familiarity with the guy—there’s a vibe there, a sort of unbothered confidence he recognizes in himself. It’s disarming, and Rafe feels his initial tension ease a bit.
With a smirk, he leans forward, locking eyes with Jacques. “So… you probably know a lot about her then, yeah?” he teases, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity. He wants to understand what exactly Jacques knows—and, maybe, what he doesn’t. Jacques laughs, throwing his head back in genuine amusement." You could say that,” he replies, eyes gleaming with the kind of familiarity that only history can create.
“You want me to let you know if she’s into you or not?” he jokes, the hint of challenge making Rafe crack a genuine grin. Rafe didn’t expect to find himself relaxing, but something about Jacques’ nonchalant vibe—and the fact that he doesn’t seem hung up on you—makes Rafe feel a little more at ease. Still, he can’t completely ignore the glances Jacques throws toward the kitchen, wondering if this odd triangle is just beginning or if it’ll soon fade into the background.
~
Rob leans back, casting a curious glance at Rafe as the two relax by the firepit. The atmosphere is warm and easy, the soft hum of the villa around them, though Rafe’s attention occasionally drifts to where you’re standing in the kitchen, laughing with the other girls. “So, has she talked to you yet?” Rob asks, trying to gauge the situation.
Rafe shrugs, looking nonchalant, though his fingers absentmindedly trace a line up his bicep, his eyes following your movements in the distance. “Nah, not yet. She’ll come over if she wants to chat,” he says, a slight smirk on his face as he shifts his gaze back to Rob. “Bet she’s feeling a little shocked seeing her ex show up out of nowhere, though. I’d be thrown off, too.”
Rob lets out a chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, mate, can’t blame her. It’d be a bit of a head-spin, wouldn’t it?” They fall silent for a beat. Rafe looks relaxed, yet there’s a certain edge to him, a competitiveness that’s only starting to surface. He leans forward, voice dropping to a lower tone, though his eyes are playful.
“Here’s the thing, though,” he says, his smirk widening as he glances over at the kitchen before turning back to Rob. “Right now, my hoodie? Smells like Y/n’s perfume,” he says with a self-satisfied grin, watching Rob’s face break into a grin of his own. “Does his? Nah, don’t think so.”
Rob bursts out laughing, clapping Rafe on the shoulder. “Oh man, that’s cold,” he says, barely holding back his laughter. “You should walk right up to him and be like, ‘Recognize this scent?’ Just to mess with him a bit.” Rafe laughs along, picturing the scene and almost tempted by the idea, his gaze settling on you again.
He imagines Jacques catching a hint of your perfume on him, subtle but unmistakable, a reminder that there’s a closeness Jacques doesn’t share with you anymore. There’s no threat, not really, but Rafe feels a spark of pride knowing he’s the one wearing traces of you, even if it’s something as simple as your perfume lingering on his hoodie.
There’s a playful but possessive glint in Rafe’s eyes as he leans back, chuckling with Rob. He knows it’s all in fun, but he can’t deny that the thought of reminding Jacques who’s in the past—and who’s in the present—has a certain appeal.
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kissme-suguru · 10 months ago
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Baby Daddy! Toji Headcannons
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˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖Toji Fushiguro x Fem! Reader
Warnings: SFW & NSFW, MDNI, slight smut, strangers to lovers, non curse au, modern au, fluff, Toji is still broke (lil struggle dates), unprotected sex, slight baby trapping, pregnancy, body appreciation, lactation kink, reader is Megumi's mom
A/N: First piece to introduce my blog!! Honestly this was lowkey inspired by Baby By Me by 50 Cent cause tiktok keeps it in my head with the edits. Let's pretend Toji is a present father...
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BD!Toji who you bumped into outside a convivence store late one night while he was on the phone with Shiu, seconds away from cursing you out but couldn't help and notice how pretty you were.
BD!Toji who tries to act nonchalant and hide his smirk when you give him your number after talking for a bit.
BD!Toji who texts you a few days later inviting you to his small apartment for your first date and orders pizza. He feels his feelings start to grow when you show no judgement of non-luxurious lifestyle.
BD!Toji who still tries to impress you with little things despite not having stacks of cash to spoil you with. Whenever he did have extra spending cash he would get you something nice to remind you he cares, brushing off your concerns about the price. "Don't worry about it, doll. You like it right? Then that's all that matters."
BD!Toji who practically lives at your apartment since he's there all the time, keeping clothes, shoes and other essentials he was too lazy to go back to his place and get.
BD!Toji who's so charismatic he manages to hit raw on the first time you have sex, claiming you inside and out as the his name rolls off your tongue while he fucks you from behind.
BD!Toji who isn't used to commitment but only fucks you. He had grown so used to the feeling of you wrapped around him and he sure as hell wasn't planning on letting you go. The two of you ending up moving in together after you questioned what you were. "You're mine. Simple as that, doll."
BD!Toji who can't help but smirk slightly when you announce your pregnancy in a panicked state, finding your nervous emotions about his reaction endearing. His arms wrap around your small frame and pull you into his chest to show you how he felt without saying much. "Calm that pretty head of yours, babe. Don't wanna work up our baby."
BD!Toji who becomes even more protective over you in your vulnerable state. He makes you walk in front of him in public, an arms length away at all times. And if you thought he was possessive before it's more now that you're carrying his son.
BD!Toji who gets in the habit of calling you mama.
BD!Toji who takes pride in seeing your body change and grow as you get further into your pregnancy. The sight of your full breasts never failing to draw his attention, often coming up behind you to just squeeze your plump tits through your shirt. When you finally manage to give into his begging he wastes no time attaching his lips to your swollen nipples and tasting the sweet essence coming from your breasts, watching you try to keep your composure. "You like that, mama? I feel you grinding against my thigh like a needy little thing."
BD!Toji who starts taking any job he can get in order to provide for his soon to be family, making sure you two have all the necessary things for the arrival of your son.
BD!Toji who doesn't really know how to help you during the birth but tries his best to make you feel comfortable and give you encouraging praises. Once the soft cries of Megumi echo through the room all the nerves leave his body and he can't take his eyes off him, noticing how much he takes after him already.
BD!Toji who's enjoys watching you preform your motherly duties no matter how small. Looking at you nurturing and loving his son was enough to make his tough shell crack every time.
BD!Toji who you wouldn't expect to go all out when it came to being a dad but did. He would carry Megumi in his strong arms often and always checking on him.
BD!Toji who has to fight off the ladies whenever he's out alone with Megumi. Of course he was a natural flirt but never letting women get ahead of themselves telling them immediately that he has you.
BD!Toji who after dealing with him for a couple years and seeing you care for his son saves up enough money to buy you a nice ring to propose with, wanting you to be his officially for life.
BD!Toji who hates to admit it but he loves being a dad. He takes pride in his son and enjoys watching him grow, raising him better than how he was. Megumi having his father's attitude and smart whit as a child which manages to get him in tiny (jokey) arguments with his dad. that you can't help but laugh at.
"Watch your mouth, brat before I punt you across the room."
"Oh yeah? Try it old man, see if you can even lift your leg up with your stiff joints."
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ellecdc · 1 month ago
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the pilot - Pretty Woman
slow burn poly!wolfstar Pretty Woman (1990) au: established wolfstar, escort!reader, side jegulily, eventual dorlene, political heist-type situation, depictions and descriptions of sex-work
I // II
cw: discussion of experienced transphobia, discussion of someone else's homophobia, the Black Family, writers poor understanding of UK politics, mature themes and discussion of full service sex work [3k words]
link to series masterlist
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“Absolutely bloody fucking not, are you out of your mind?” 
“Cas, please.” You begged as you followed your roommate out of her room and into the kitchen.
“You have plenty of bags, why do you need to borrow mine?” She grumbled as she flicked on the kettle. 
“The room is booked at the Ritz, Cas; I cannot walk in with my fraying duffle.” 
Her movements paused as she turned to look at you incredulously. “The Ritz? Fucking hells, babe, where’d you find this guy?”
You shrugged your shoulders helplessly. “He found me.”
“Blimey…if he has enough money to throw around for a casual stay at a hotel like that and-”
“Me.” You finished for her. “I know…I- I’d like it to go well, in case…”
“In case he decides to book again.” 
You nodded solemnly at Dorcas who continued staring at you, only looking away when her water came to a boil. 
“Fine. Fine…okay, you can borrow my Prada bag.”
You squealed as you hugged your friend from behind as she prepared her tea, ignoring her grumbling on account of the pleased smile she had on her face.
“Thank you, Cas. Really…this….this could be good for us, yeah?”
Her face softened as she turned to look at you as you backed towards her bedroom to retrieve her bag; guilt, grief and hope intermingling in her eyes as she nodded at you. 
*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐
Your cheap heels clicked across along the marble floor which reflected the lights like diamonds under the many crystal chandeliers hanging on the high ceilings. You were wearing your most expensive jacket, but you still felt horribly out of place; you weren’t exactly wearing a whole lot underneath it (everything was going to be coming off shortly anyway…), and you were delusional enough to feel like everyone in the lobby was somehow onto you.
This late into the evening, most guests were dressed to the nines as they made their way to casinos and orchestras; cocktail dresses and more than a few tuxedos painting your vision in every direction you looked. You couldn’t get to the elevator quickly enough, though you were forced to spend the ride up staring at your reflection ad infinitum on account of the parallel mirrors in every direction.
Fifth floor, room 522. 
The room itself had its own miniature chandelier hanging above the room number illuminating it in the hall. You looked back at the text on your phone to confirm you were at the right place.
Great! Looking forward to seeing you: room 522 on the 5th floor
You’d had high paying clients before – men who could afford to spend their money on sex – but not like this, never like this.
You suddenly felt incredibly nervous and hoped you could make a good impression; if he was pleasant, you’d be more than happy to have him as a repeat client.
You’ve been through worse.
You took one last look through your borrowed bag to make sure you had your essentials, as well as your ID and taser in case of emergencies, before taking a deep breath and knocking gently; cautious of the hall of other rooms who may be winding down for the evening and not wanting to draw attention to what was very clearly an escort.
Please let this go well.
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“Okay, so, explain to me again why you couldn’t just hire an actress or some theatre student?” James asked as he rubbed painfully at his temples.
Sirius groaned and threw his head back. “Because James; an actress will have a portfolio – a history - that my family can dig into. They’ll also have dreams of pursuing other acting jobs after this one. I need someone nondescript, unheard of, and not going anywhere so that my mother and her cronies can’t poke holes into our story.”
“Same reason he can’t use a friend.” Regulus added from his place on a tufted chair in the luxurious hotel room currently being paid for by his and Sirius’ family.
“Right. Mother and everyone will know if I’m using a friend, or an acquaintance and it will point back to this larger scheme.” Sirius agreed readily.
“But wouldn’t it make more sense if you had met your new fiancé through a friend?” Remus questioned.
“Sure. If my friends weren’t the two of you, Lily, and Marlene.” Sirius added simply.
“I just don’t understand how we jumped straight to prostitution.” James muttered.
“Look,” Sirius levelled, “I’ve thought about this long and hard. I’ve also discussed this with Andromeda and our Uncle Alphard, and they both agree this is the best way to go. Our family won’t have any reason to have met our prostitute unless they themselves have hired a prostitute, and this girl is supposed to be from the opposite end of town, so I doubt there’d have been any overlap anyways. She also won’t have much of a background for them to dig into – and she’d be hard to get to if they tried.”
“Why would she be hard to get to?”
Remus grimaced and answered James for him. “Prostitutes often have pimps, James. Men that...organise the contact for the girls. Sirius would have had to go through one to find this girl.”
“I thought that was a myth?” Regulus interjected, but Remus shook his head.
“It’s estimated that approximately 65-85% of prostitution is pimp-dominated.”
“So, some guy sold her to you?” James asked incredulously.
“Sort of...I guess.” Sirius admitted.
James groaned and looked at the ceiling “I hate this.”
“This is the beginning of the end, James. We’re taking the Black’s down once and for all; they won’t be able to hurt any of us ever again.” Sirius lamented, his eyes moving from James towards his younger brother at the end of the sentence.
Regulus nodded at his brother before there was a gentle knock on the door.
“Well boys, show time.” James said as he stood from his seat and moved to answer the door.
Sirius wrung his hands nervously as he heard James greet you at the door, sharing nervous looks with Remus and Regulus who both sat up straighter.
“-get you anything? There’s a full bar here, you can help yourself to whatever you want.” James was saying, though Sirius could almost hear your grin and polite shake of your head.
“I’m alright thanks, I’m not-”
But the second you stepped into the suite's living room you fell silent and looked at the three boys in horror; Sirius realised what he’d done wrong too little too late.
Both Remus and Regulus stood to greet you, and you pulled your bag into your chest and stepped back so quickly that the picture frame on the wall you slammed into shook. 
“It’s okay, we-”
“What is this?” You whispered overtop of Sirius, eyes darting nervously between the four men now all standing with their hands raised in placation, though Sirius felt as though it likely had the opposite effect. 
“Fuck this looks bad, doesn’t it?” James muttered nervously.
“Shut up, James.” 
“What is this?” You repeated a little louder.
“Y/N, right? My name is Sirius, love. I’m the one you spoke with on the phone.” Sirius offered as calmly as he could muster. “I’m sorry we surprised you, but I promise you’re okay, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“We just want to talk.” Remus added, and you let out a hysterical laugh.
“You hired an escort to chat?” You deadpanned, and Sirius’ noticed your eyes turning glassy in your panic.
“Okay, okay. Hang on, just…” Sirius started, moving in slow motion as he stepped towards the side table his wallet was sitting on whilst holding your eye contact the entire time. “Look, this is the price we agreed upon, right?” He asked, only breaking your eye contact to count the bills out in his hands as he inched closer to you. “You can take this right now and leave if you want, but-” he continued, fanning out the rest of the cash he’d withdrawn, “It’s tripled if you stay and just hear us out.”
You looked at him in pure discombobulation as he placed the agreed upon sum in your hand and closed your grip around it for you before backing away slowly. 
“Sit, please; we can order room service, you can help yourself to anything from the bar. Just…hear us out.” Remus offered as he gestured towards one of the wingback chairs. 
You swallowed thickly and let your gaze drift over the four men again; Remus who was looking at you pleadingly, Regulus who looked very pained on your behalf, James who looked very embarrassed by this whole misunderstanding, and Sirius who was looking at you like you were his only hope. 
“This…it’s not-?”
“No. No, there’s…no. No sex, nothing funny, just…a sales pitch.” He offered awkwardly. 
You scanned the room again, and though your knuckles were no longer white, you were still hugging your bag tight against your body.
“Can I take your jacket?” James offered, taking a step towards him. You simply looked at him before your gaze fell to the rather informal clothes everyone else was wearing.
“Do you have something more comfortable to wear in your bag?” Remus offered, obviously reading your worry for what it was as you nodded at him. 
“The washroom is right there, if you wanted to change? Or…if you wanted to call a cab.” Sirius offered. You nodded at him before disappearing through the door and locking it behind you. 
“Fucking smooth, Sirius.” Regulus muttered as he sat back down with a dramatic sigh. 
“Well I don’t fucking know, Reg! I’ve not exactly done this before, either.”
“That could have been bad.”
“Well we don’t know if she’s going to agree or not so it still could be bad.” Remus countered.
“I don’t think I can stomach having to hire another one.” Sirius muttered as they heard the door to the bathroom click. 
You exited, still looking nervous but you were no longer wearing your jacket which Sirius took as a good sign.
You were wearing a pair of well fitting jeans and a black turtleneck with a pair of black heeled boots - classic and nondescript. You looked put together enough, but like you wouldn’t draw attention to yourself. Though, Sirius figured a girl as pretty as you was likely to garner a few stares regardless of what you were wearing. 
That was probably good for business, which reminded Sirius why you were here. 
“Are you hungry? Do you want to order something to eat? Anything to drink?”
“No, thank you.” You replied as you accepted the chair Remus was gesturing for you to sit in. You allowed James to take your jacket, but kept your bag in your lap. 
“Water?” Regulus asked, and you finally managed to make eye contact with one of them.
“I have a bottle of water, thank you.” 
That seemed…fair, Sirius supposed. He guessed you were used to spending time in the company of rather predatory men.
“Okay, so, I’m really sorry about the confusion, but the reason I hired you is that I was hoping for your help.” Sirius said as he hooked up his laptop to the TV and started his slideshow. 
“You did not actually make a presentation.” James snorted, causing Sirius to look at him nonplussed.
“Of course I didn’t.” He responded simply, blushing only when he turned to notice you were looking at him with one raised eyebrow. “Regulus made it.”
“Someone had to.”
“This really is a sales pitch?” You asked almost disbelievingly; the ghost of a smirk on your lips. 
“Okay, well, if everyone would shut up, I’d get on with it.” Sirius chided with a smile, glad that you were relaxing enough to at least chuckle lightly at his expense. 
And Sirius told you.
He told you that his name was Sirius Black, that he came from the rather ignoble Black dynasty that had their claws (and more importantly, their heavily lined pockets) deeply entrenched in the rightwing government; currently backing the particularly problematic Tom Riddle who was running for Prime Minister. He explained that he’d run away from home at only 16 to live with James and his family due to the abuse and hostility his parents held, and how he could not support what they stood for. However, when his younger brother came out as trans to his parents - his parents who were now relying on their only remaining child to continue their legacy and help paint a picture of themselves as the proper, wholesome political family they pretended to be - they were desperate to play damage control. 
They promised to leave Regulus alone - they’d have nothing to do with him, but they wouldn’t publicly shame him - if Sirius played nice. Nice, meaning living a respectable, traditional lifestyle. This meant that Sirius and Remus had been dating behind closed doors for almost eight years now whilst Remus worked as Sirius’ personal assistant, and Sirius pretended he wasn’t in contact with his younger sibling should the press ask. 
His parents folded at Sirius’ friendship with James and Marlene, simply because no one would be able to explain away Sirius and James’ nearly lifelong friendship (he’d lived with his family for Christ’s sake), and even the Black’s understood the power in having ties with other wealthy and powerful families like the Potter’s and MacKinnon’s, even if their politics didn’t align with their own. 
“How does this all involve me?” You asked then, surprising Sirius out of his well rehearsed schpiel to find your eyes trained on him. 
“Right, so…my parents are tired of my bachelor lifestyle.”
“It doesn’t paint a very traditional picture to have the heir to a powerful family pushing 30 and still living in a bachelor pad with his unmarried mate and employee.” Remus offered dryly. 
“They want you to find a girlfriend.” You deduced.
“They want me to find a wife.” Sirius corrected. 
“And that’s…me?” You asked around a chuckle, your smile falling when you realised no one was laughing with you. “Oh my god…”
“I’ve told them I’ve been seeing someone for quite some time now, but didn’t want to bring them into this world until I was sure about them - until I was sure they weren’t ‘just after the family money’.” Sirius explained solemnly. “They want me to make it official, and they want me to start bringing you around.” 
“Around…”
“Events; galas, fundraisers, press opportunities. The likes.” Regulus explained flippantly. 
“Right…” You offered in monotone. “And you want to show up to galas, fundraisers, and press opportunities with a hooker?” 
James turned to give Sirius a look that seemed to read ‘see?’, but Remus responded first.
“Well…we were sort of hoping he could show up with you.” Remus corrected gently. You seemed surprised and more than a tad confused at Remus’ apparent defence of you. 
“They’re terrible people, Y/N.” Sirius blurted. “They are terrible and they stand for terrible things. They put all of their money into anti LGBTQIA+ propaganda and organisations, they actively work towards harming a large portion of UK citizens, they want to reverse any progress the country has made in reproductive healthcare and women’s rights, they’re trying to ban fucking children’s books, I-”
“Then why play along? Why play nice, as you said? Marrying an escort seems like a very dramatic way to keep your brother out of the limelight.” You argued.
“Clever girl.” Regulus murmured as he leaned further back into his chair. 
“Family inheritance.” Sirius offered plainly. “I have access to use family money, but do not have access to direct family money. Not until I fulfil the requirements of my inheritance.”
“The requirements being an approved heterosexual wedding.” James filled in. 
“Regulus is no longer entitled to his sum of the inheritance after my parents disowned him.” Sirius continued. “But that means that, should I be successful, I would inherit both of our portions.”
“Which would make Sirius the primary shareholder in the Black estates.” Regulus continued. 
“Meaning you’d have final say over allocation of funds…” You finished for him. 
“You are clever.” Remus agreed with Regulus’ earlier sentiments. You turned bashful and looked down at your lap to avoid having to look at any of them, Sirius found himself smiling at the top of your head. 
“And I just…play along?” You asked then.
“You’ll be paid - handsomely - any time you’re with any of us. And once I have access to the estate, you’ll be given a portion of it.”
“It’s no small sum, either.” Regulus assured you. 
“I will make sure it is well worth your time, Y/N.” Sirius promised. 
He let that sit in the air as he moved towards the bar and poured himself a drink before picking up his wallet. “And here.” He added as he handed you the other portion of the cash he’d taken out for you.
“What?”
“I promised you triple if you heard us out; you’ve heard us out.” He responded simply as he took a seat beside Remus. 
You fanned out the bills in front of you like you couldn’t believe your eyes; you weren’t counting them, necessarily, but proving to yourself it was real. 
“They’re terrible?” You asked then, but when Sirius looked up, he could see you were asking Regulus. 
“Awful.” Regulus murmured, eyes staring unseeingly at the coffee table in front of him as James placed a comforting hand on his knee. “Honestly, I’m…scared; not necessarily for myself, I mean, I know I’m safe and have people in my corner, but…there are so many people out there like me who don’t and…”
You nodded in understanding as Regulus trailed off. 
“Okay.” You whispered as you folded up the money as best you could and put it in your bag before standing.
“Okay?” Sirius asked as he stood, too; quickly followed by Remus, James, and Regulus.
“Okay.” You repeated, nodding once to yourself before meeting Sirius’ gaze. “I’ll do it, I’ll…I’ll help.” 
Sirius felt a smile take over his face as he looked at you - his dame in shining armour for all intents and purposes - as you accepted your jacket from James. 
“Tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it; I’ll help.”
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bunnys-kisses · 3 months ago
Note
Hi there! I was wondering if I could get mushroom pie and ice cream bars with a side of juice and ✨Vampire! Max Verstappen? ✨
I love your writing so much! And the bakery theme is my favorite thing 🥰
bakery menu
want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu!!! want more vampire!max or something else that might tickle your fancy? then the bakery is open for requests!! thank you so, @fictional-babes-inc for this darling of a request. i've been pondering vampire or monster!max, like oh god! so thank you for this treat, it was great to make for you! enjoy!!
mushroom pie ("if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up.") + ice cream bar (“did you see the way he was eyeing you? he needs to know you're mine.") + juice (cockwarming) served by vampire!max verstappen (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, vampire!max, vampire au, possessive behaviour/jealousy, cockwarming, human!reader, mentions of blood, biting, facetimes (exhibitionism), degrading language, clit playing
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max thought that the marks on your neck were enough to let others know what you were taken. bringing a human into the fold with a bunch of vampires could cause some problems if one of them got the wrong idea. you belonged to max, and any vampire with at least one working eye could see that. how you tucked yourself neatly into your lover's side, let him taste your blood. docile and beautiful doing so.
but max knew charles well enough, the two had been immortal for about the same time. he knew that if you had max's name printed across your chest, charles would still flash those boyish smiles at you. get in a little too close, let those green eyes of his hypnotize you the way it had so many women.
max was a possessive creature of the night and charles loved to get under his skin.
"max."
"i don't want to hear it." you were both in the car. it was well into the night and max was driving you both back home.
his eyes were on the road, he refused to make eye contact. the thrum of envy engulfed his stomach. he gripped your soft thigh a little harder, if he wanted to, he could break the bone.
but max didn't break his toys. even if they disobeyed him.
"if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up." he said, his eyes flickered to you for a moment. they were blue, but a dangerous kind of blue. like the deepest part of the oceans. the all consuming nature of him.
you swallowed, "charles meant nothing by it. you knew how he is. he's a flirt. you know i'd never leave you. i promise." you bottom lip wobbled. humans, always so emotional.
as if max wasn't seething with jealousy.
when you both got home, you were brought to the couch in the living room. you cunt ached at the feeling of him tugging down your skirt, threatening to rip it at the seems.
your vampire boyfriend really hated the idea of another undead creature of the night putting his hands all over you. like he owned you.
he ran his fingers across your clothed slit and watched your squirm. oh, you were just lovely weren't you. he felt something rise inside of him as he eyed your heated body.
you looked so innocent, so human with all that blood in your body. sizzling under the heat of his sexual advances.
he got you out of your blouse and pulled the bra off of you. he stripped you bare and got his face up into your neck and sank his teeth into you. not enough to draw blood, but enough to bruise the sweet peach he called his beloved.
he got you up into his lap, seated upright against him. he got his cock out of his slacks before he pushed you down onto him. the sudden feeling of his cock inside of you made your breathing stagger for a moment.
you let out a small moan, but soon you were bent over as max propped his phone up on some books on the coffee table. you whimpered instead of asking what he was doing.
he just said, “did you see the way he was eyeing you, my love? he needs to know you're mine." he said it like a promise which made you stomach do a flip.
soon he was facetiming charles as you stayed seated on his cock. this possessive vampire! you squirmed a little but, max stayed close and started to play with your clit.
charles answered it, he was in bed and his eyes went wide at the sight before him. there you were, in max's lap with his cock stuffed into your pretty hole and his large fingers rubbing against your clit.
vampires really didn't have a sense of decency did they? regardless it made you run hot, your throbbing pulse enticed him.
"holy my." charles said as he shifted a little in his spot on the bed. you could feel the leer of his gaze through the phone screen, "you're certain she wasn't a prostitute before you met, max?"
"no. her father of a vampire hunter wouldn't have let her. she had never ever sucked cock before i got to her. poor thing, completely taken apart by the vampires."
you looked away, but max's words were biting as he told you to face his phone. look at charles while you did your job and kept max's cock warm. they spoke of you like you weren't in the room with them, like max's cock wasn't spearing you.
but you wouldn't move your hips as his cock filled you. you tried to get some sense of control by holding onto your knees. but soon max held you throat with his other hand, keeping your back to his chest.
"so, charles." max said as he continued to play with you. his fingers were methodical as they moved.
charles chuckled, "possessive, max? you could've just sent a photo. but, no, you have to put it right in my face.... but you know she'd look better with my fangs in that soft stomach of hers."
max sneered, "shut up, charles. you see this." he held your throat a little tighter, "this is mine. you have all of monaco to seduce. she is with me."
charles laughed at the petty jealous words, it was honestly funny to him, "oh max. i'll get her soon. you and i can have a take about what to do with your little pet."
vampires always so high and mighty.
you were a little beauty to max, the favourite thing to keep his cock warm. and he made sure you did a good job, he wouldn't have you slacking. he kept you seated on his cock, unmoving while he worked your slick pussy.
"max. ah!" you whimpered.
max sighed, "keep quiet. bad pets don't get to complain."
you clenched around his cock as you tried to grip onto his forearms. you looked like a debauched mess against him. letting charles drink in the sight of you. the other vampire didn't touch himself, rather he was enticed by the sight of you.
all the men, women and others in monaco, and charles yearned to dig his cock and fangs into you. see what the lover of his rival and friend felt and tasted like. was it rich like a large meal, or was it sweet fruit in the late summer.
what did you taste like, little human?
max took you by the jaw and turned your head to the side, exposing your neck and letting him take a bite into you. once again, only enough to bruise. the intimate act of drinking blood was only for his eyes.
you felt your head grow heavy from the entire thing. the pleasure damped any bad thoughts you were having. you could hear charles' voice when he said, "seems she enjoys this too much, max.'
max worked your pussy harder as you remained soaked around his hard cock, that was dribbling pre-cum into your poor cunt. he smirked at charles before he sank his teeth in fully.
to damn with convention, he wanted to make his stake clear.
it sent you over the edge. you came around his cock and it made him tense up. he licked at the blood as he slowed down his fingers. you went soft against his chest and let your lover do what he pleased.
"and charles... don't touch what is mine again." he could see how flustered charles was. max then ended the call before you were shoved over the coffee table, the books shoved off the table. your ass up in the air as he tossed his phone to the side. he needed you.
he needed you now.
-
the following week, you were with the vampires once more. they had been nice enough to give the human guests something to nosh on while the creatures discussed all matters.
you could feel charles' gaze from the couch. you felt heat run through you once he approached you. his hand on your thigh, pushing up the short dress you owned.
he chuckled, "a sundress for the lover of one of the most important vampires on the continent." he leaned in a little closer, "i think you'd look pretty in something darker. something that didn't make you look like prey."
you felt your heart stagger.
"charles... that's enough." max said as he cut into the little scene on the couch.
charles just smiled, "i wasn't actually going to bite her."
max raised his eyebrows then said, "if you're going to try and fuck her, charles. i must be present there too." it was his compromise, if charles leclerc wanted you so badly. then what was stopping him? but if he was going to take that chance, it would be under the watchful eye of your vampire lover. <3
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recklessmatt · 10 months ago
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veins and video games - m.s ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。♡˚
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PAIRING: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 1.9K
GENRE(S): smut, established relationship au
SUMMARY: you notice how good matt’s hands look while he’s playing video games. 
WARNINGS: smut [soft dom matt, teasing, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), fingering, slight overstimulation]
“just five more minutes, baby,” your boyfriend, matt, says for the nth time this evening, his eyes not even leaving the PC screen as he speaks. 
“ugh but you said that last time.” you whine sprawled out on his bed for god knows how long. 
matt mutes his mic and turns around to look at you and says “I know babe, but i promise just 5 more minutes and i’m all yours okay?” then turning back around to return to his game. 
“ughhhhhh” you groan rolling over to your belly and going back to your phone. matt turns around looking at you, seeing a pout on your lips he starts to feel bad for playing for so long. he then has an idea.
“baby come sit on my lap and watch me play.” he says, you perk up and make your way over to sit on his lap.
he gives you a quick kiss on the forehead, unmutes his mic, starts the game and you intently watch him play. you watch the screen for a little bit but then your eyes drift down to follow the movement of his hands and fingers. you notice his veins pop out everytime he moves his hands and his fingers move quickly across the controller. now thinking about how good his fingers would look inside of you, you start to rub your thighs together for relief. you then unintentionally start to move on his lap getting a little more comfortable which causes matt to let out a breath.
matt grabs your hips and says, “baby, stop moving.” quietly so the boys won’t hear him, eyes still not leaving the screen. 
you pout your lips and move again still feeling uncomfortable. matt then utters out a small groan so quiet you almost missed it. you bite your own lip and smirk to yourself knowing what your movement caused, starting to feel something hard poke you from under. you move on him again and that causes his character to die.
“FUCK MATT WE ALMOST HAD HIM!” you can hear chris yell through matt’s headset. “we got him for the next game bro.” matt replies.
taking advantage of the small break, you start to trace your fingers along matt’s veins, loving the way they look in the light. you then bring his fingers to your lips, give it a small kiss and that’s when you slowly start to put his fingers in your mouth. matt is watching you intently with a dark look in his eyes. you make eye contact with him and start sucking on his fingers pretending like it’s a lollipop. you start to feel matt get even harder from under you and you start to move on his lap causing matt to let out a groan.
“matt you good?” you hear nick say through his headset. “yeah, just stubbed my toe. let’s start playing.” matt says, pulling his fingers out your mouth, giving you a warning glare. you pout and then an idea comes to your mind. 
you get off his lap and get down on your knees in front of him. matt looks at you not knowing what your intentions are. you start to pull his sweats and boxers down just enough to take his cock out. the feeling of your soft hand wrapping itself around his shaft causes him to let out a quiet groan. you look up at him with wide eyes and that sight alone will make him cum. he sucks in a small breath as you lick up a small stripe, taking him in your mouth, lips wrapping around the tip of his cock as you swirl your tongue around it.
you smile when matt jerks his hips up at the contact, his bottom lip between his teeth trying to keep his cool as you start to take him further down your throat. you make a ‘hm’ noise that sends vibrations through his body. you notice his jaw tightens and his grip tightens around his controller as you start to bob your head up and down at a rhythmic pace. He looks down at you and that sight alone makes you draw out a quiet whine. he throws his head back, closing his eyes causing him to lose focus in that game.
“MATT CMON BRO WHAT'S GOING ON WITH YOU TONIGHT” chris yells through his headset.
as matt is about to speak, you swirl your tongue around his tip and sucking on it like your life depends on it, and that makes him let out a loud groan.
“fuck.” you hear matt nearly growl into the mic, hips faltering as he tries his best not to cum down your throat.
“sorry guys im not feelin too great tonight imma have to clock out for the night.” matt says into the mic all in one breath trying his best not to stutter. immediately after telling nick and chris he leaves the game, takes off his headset, and shuts everything down. pushing his chair away from his desk he gives you a disapproving look. hair messy and out of breath, the tip of his cock still resting on tongue, he’s never looked so hot.
“you couldn’t have waited 5 minutes could you hm?” matt says with a husky voice shooting straight to your already soaked panties. “i just..” you begin, starting to pout your bottom lip out with wide eyes that make him go crazy, “i just wanted your attention.” “yeah baby?” matt smirks, getting up from his seat and dragging you to his bed. 
you nod eagerly, letting him lie you down on your back and pulling your panties down, sinking straight into the soft silk sheets and legs spreading automatically. matt pulls his lip between his teeth, tracing you up from your thighs up to your pretty pink lips. he taps the bottom of your lip with his thumb signaling you to open, you comply letting him shove his fingers in your mouth. you start swirling your tongue and sucking on his fingers like you were on his cock. matt lets out a groan, replacing his fingers with his lips. the kiss is hard, heavy and messy, getting you even more wet if that was possible. you slowly start to feel his fingers running down your waist all the way to in between your thighs causing you to let out a small whine.
matt pulls away, “what’s wrong baby?” saying mockingly. you start to let out inaudible words. “use your words pretty girl” giving you a soft kiss. “matt i need you.” you whine bucking your hips up trying to get some type of friction. “i don’t know baby, after that stunt you just pulled, i don’t think you deserve it.” he slowly teases you purposely avoiding the one spot you need him the most. “matty please i’ll be a good girl for you.” you whine. he smirks, “oh you’re gonna be a good girl for me baby?” you nod eagerly, begging, “yes yes yes i’ll be so good for you please” and that’s when you finally feel his fingers rubbing your clit in circles. 
you let out a sigh mixed with a moan finally feeling that relief you’ve been needing for ever. matt continues to rub in circles slowly getting faster and faster. “matt please i need your fingers inside me.” you sigh out. “so needy baby” he says as he starts to insert a finger into your wet cunt. “oh fuck baby, you’re so wet and tight for me.” he moans out and inserts another finger starting to pick up the pace causing you to let out a loud moan. all you can focus on right now is how good his fingers feel inside of you and the way he curls his fingers is just hitting you all in the right places all while he’s giving you wet kisses on your neck. the combination of the neck kisses and him fingering you with those long slender fingers makes you closer to your orgasm.
“feel good baby?” he says as he picks up the pace even more. you moan out, “mmm i’m close matty.” “I know baby i know, i can feel you clenching around my fingers. you’re doing so good for me.” he says starting to rub your clit with his thumb as he fingers you and that pushes you towards the edge. “oh my god” you scream out drenching his fingers in your juices. matt slows down his pace letting you ride out your high and once you finally calmed down he brings his thumb to your bottom lip signaling you to open. you let out a moan tasting yourself on his fingers looking at him deeply in his eyes making him let out a small sigh. he immediately dives in for a passionate kiss, tongues fighting with dominance. you feel his hands going to your waist to the edge of your shirt starting to lift it. you break away from the kiss to help him out by pulling your shirt over your head as he does the same to his own, reconnecting your lips together, he removes your bra with ease. “open your legs wider sweetheart.” he mumbles against your lips. you comply feeling the tip of his cock rubbing against your wet slit. the feeling makes you let out a small whine still sensitive from your previous orgasm which makes matt chuckle lowly. he starts to slowly insert himself letting out a loud moan. “fuck baby, you're so tight for me.” he says bottoming you out, once you’ve adjusted to him he starts to pick up the pace keeping a steady rhythm. “oh fuck matt, fuck fuck fuck…” you moan out. he continues to pound into you at a fast pace, hands gripped onto your waist. “mmm baby you feel so good. you’re doing so good for me.” he moans out, slowing his pace slightly making you feel every inch of his cock sliding in and out of you deeply. he brings his thumb to your lips and you close your lips moaning around it. “fuck..” he picks up the pace going harder and faster feeling your tongue on his thumb and that causes you to let out a scream. “matty close close close…” you moan out feeling another orgasm creeping up. “yeah baby? cum on my cock for me.” he groans out putting pressure on your clit. that action alone made you scream out his name covering his cock in your juices, but he doesn’t slow down. “matt…can’t…too much..” you say breathless. “yes you can baby. you’re gonna be a good girl for me right?” he leans down giving you sloppy wet kisses on your neck slowing down his pace but going in oh so deep. “mhm wanna be… your good girl…” you say, slightly fucked out causing matt to chuckle. he then throws one of your legs over his shoulder letting him fuck into you at a new angle. “mmm you take me so well baby im so close baby.” he says ramming into you at a faster speed. you can’t even speak words properly so you just let out noises. “you gonna be a good girl let me cum in you huh?” he says in a low voice. “uh huh uh huh” you nod your head clenching around him repeatedly.
“oh fuck im cumming baby, fuck im cumming.” he says squeezing his eyes shut, hips moving faster as he feels you clenching. you scream out feeling your third orgasm of the night wash you over as matt lets out a long string of curses and moans releasing his load into you. his hips slow down letting you both ride your high. he slowly pulls out, both of you wincing at the loss of contact. 
“you did so good for me princess.” matt giving you a gentle kiss.
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taglist: @luverboychris <3 she my bitch fr
author's note: hi dis my first story i've ever written, if you like it, kisses for you, and if you hate it don't tell me or i'll cry. i was actually debating on whether to start writing or not but i got a request (surprisingly) and so here's this but n e weighs fanks for reading mwah <3
REQUEST:
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flwrstqr · 4 months ago
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𓈃 ★ PRINCESS DIAIRIES | PARK SUNGHOON
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synopsis you are a shy, awkward teenager living with your artist mother. your life is turned upside down when you discover you are the heir to the throne of genovia. at first, you're reluctant to accept your new identity. as you face challenges at school, with the media, and within yourself, you struggle to balance your normal life with your royal duties. sunghoon, who has secretly liked you for a long time, finds himself falling even more for you as he sees you grow into your new role. as you navigate your new life, you and sunghoon grow closer, sharing quiet moments and, most importantly, falling in love.
word count 6.8k+
meet the cast best friend's brother!sunghoon x quiet kid/princess!fem reader (feat haneul from kiss of life + other ocs)
genre high school au, royal au, angst, fluff, romance, best friend brother au, unpopular to popular, crack, princess diaries based
warnings swearing, kissing, small grammar errors, everyone being mean to yn at first, some annoying characters, mentions barfing, yn being played by a boy at one point, some second hand embarrassment scene 😓,
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danielle's note 𖥔 so i just watched like princess diaries yesterday and i ended up falling in love with it so i wanted to write a long ass au for this. plus like i had to cook up a good plot so 😈 sorry if this is ass but anyways i hope u guys enjoy this (this fic is for my fav hoon stan ><)
﹙⠀ PLAYiNG . . . ⠀good luck babe by chappell roan, feather by sabrina carpenter, saturn by sza, i love you so by the walters, obsessed by olivia rodrigo, xo by enhypen, break up with your girlfriend by ariana grande
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YOU WAKE UP TO THE SOFT CHIMES OF YOUR ALARM, gradually getting louder until you reach over and silence it. You fumble for your glasses on the bedside table. Once they're on, the world comes into focus: your room adorned with vibrant art pieces that was made by your mother.
You stretch and get out of bed, your feet touching the cool floor. Your school uniform is laid out neatly on the chair by your desk: a skirt, a crisp white blouse, and a blazer. You put on the uniform, the fabric feeling stiff but familiar. As you stand in front of the mirror, you run a brush quickly through your hair. Makeup isn’t part of your routine; you prefer to keep things simple.
Heading downstairs, you hear the familiar sounds of your mom humming along to music in her studio. You grab your backpack from the hook by the door and slip on your shoes. The house smells of fresh paint and coffee, a comforting mix you've grown up with.
“Have a good day at school, sweetheart! Also, don't be nervous during the speech!” your mom calls from her studio, not looking up from her canvas.
“Thanks, Mom. I will,” you reply softly, even though she can't see you.
Stepping outside, the morning air is cool and crisp. You take a deep breath, adjusting your backpack on your shoulders, and start walking to school. You keep your head down, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself.
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YOU ARRIVE AT SCHOOL, spotting Haneul leaning against the bike racks, her face lighting up as she sees you. She's waving enthusiastically, and you can’t help but smile back. Haneul, like you, is considered one of the "losers," known for being a "nerd." But she’s your best friend, and that label doesn’t bother either of you much.
“Hey,” you greet her, adjusting your backpack.
“Morning! Ready for another thrilling day of high school?” she jokes, rolling her eyes.
You both laugh and start walking towards your first class. As usual, you pass the popular girls, Eunae and her two "minions", who are gossiping loudly by their lockers. Your eyes dart towards your crush, Siwoo, who’s with them. His blonde hair is always perfectly styled, falling just above his eyebrows in a way that frames his sharp, expressive eyes. Those eyes, a deep shade of brown, seem to hold a confident, almost teasing glint. His smile is captivating, often described as a blend of boyish charm and genuine warmth, making him instantly likable to many (such as you). Your heart sinks as you see him kissing Eunae. You roll your eyes, trying to forget it.
“Ugh, seriously?” Haneul mutters, noticing the scene as well. “She’s so fake.”
You nod in agreement, but your attention shifts as you catch sight of Sunghoon, Haneul’s older brother, standing nearby. His dark hair, slightly tousled, falls naturally around his face. His eyes, a striking shade of hazel, are often focused.
You give him a small wave. Sunghoon notices and waves back, his smile warm and genuine. The bell rings, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Come on, we don’t want to be late,” Haneul says, tugging at your sleeve.
“Yeah, let’s go,” you reply, falling into step beside her as you make your way to class.
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CLASS TIME BEGINS, and your heart races as you try to focus on the lesson. When Siwoo stands up to give his speech, you can't help but be mesmerized. His blonde hair is perfect, shining under the classroom lights, and his confidence radiates as he speaks. You know Siwoo isn’t the brightest student, more of an athlete than an academic, but that doesn’t matter to you. He’s cute, and that’s enough.
As he finishes his speech, Eunae and her two friends erupt into loud cheers, their high-pitched voices echoing in the room. You roll your eyes internally but feel a pang of nervousness as you realize your turn is coming up. Public speaking has always been your weak point.
When your name is called, you stand up, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. Your legs feel like jelly as you walk to the podium, your heart pounding in your chest. You hear Eunae giggling with her friends, and it only heightens your anxiety.
"Look who's next," Eunae whispers loudly to her friends, making sure you hear.
You take a deep breath and start your speech, but the words come out in a stutter. "S-so..."
You push up your glasses, hoping it will give you some confidence, but it only makes things worse. The giggles turn into outright laughter, and you can feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Your stomach churns, making you feel like you’re going to be sick.
"Oh my God, she can't even talk properly," Eunae says, loud enough for the whole class to hear. More laughter follows her comment.
In the far corner of the room, you notice Sunghoon watching. His eyes are calm, and there's a hint of concern in his expression You feel like you're about to barf and, in a panic, you rush out of the classroom. The laughter follows you, echoing in your ears.
Once outside, you lean against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. Tears prick at your eyes as the embarrassment washes over you. You feel utterly defeated, wishing you could just disappear. You were always the invisible one, what should you expect?
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AFTER SCHOOL, you walk home, the events of the day replaying in your mind. When you step inside, the familiar smell of your mom's cooking greets you. You head to the kitchen, where she’s stirring something on the stove.
"Hey, sweetheart," she says, looking up with a concerned expression. "I heard you barfed in class today. Are you okay?"
You sigh, dropping your backpack on the floor. "Yeah, it was just… really embarrassing."
Your mom walks over and gives you a comforting hug. "I'm sorry that happened. Kids can be really mean sometimes."
You nod, feeling a bit better with her support. "Thanks, Mom."
She pulls back and looks at you seriously. "There’s something I need to tell you. Your grandmother is coming over for tea next week."
You look at her, confused. "Grandmother? But we never talk to her."
"I know," your mom says, her tone softening. "This is the first time we’re going to meet her. She’s your father's mother. After your father passed away a few months ago, she reached out. She said she wanted to speak with you specifically."
You blink in surprise. "Me? Why me?"
"I don’t know," your mom admits. "But I think it’s important to hear her out. She might have something to share that’s meaningful to you."
You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Okay. I’ll talk to her."
Your mom gives you a reassuring smile. "It’ll be fine." You nod, trying to push aside any other thoughts on your mind.
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YOU WALK INTO THE CAR MOTOR PLACE, the familiar scent of oil and rubber filling the air. Your heart races as you see your Mustang in the garage, a little closer to the dream car you’ve been saving up for. It still needs a lot of work, but you’re determined to have it ready for your 17th birthday.
As you approach the car, you hear the final notes of a performance. Sunghoon finishes his set and the crowd disperses, girls whispering excitedly about how hot he is. But he pays them no mind. Instead, he walks straight toward you, his eyes lighting up with a genuine smile.
"Hey," he greets, his voice smooth and warm. "Checking on the car?"
You nod, unable to help but smile back. "Yeah, it's coming along slowly but surely."
He glances at the Mustang, then back at you. "It's going to look amazing when it's done. You've been saving it up for a while,"
You blush at the compliment, feeling a flutter in your chest. "Thanks, Sunghoon."
His smile widens, and he leans a bit closer. "If you need any help with the car, just let me know. I'd be happy to lend a hand."
"Really? That would be amazing," you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you at his offer.
Sunghoon's eyes twinkle "Anything for you," he says softly, before giving you one last smile.
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YOU STAND AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE GRAND MANSION, your eyes wide with awe. The sheer size and elegance of the mansion are overwhelming. Fancy maids and butlers bustle around. You clutch your cheap, simple backpack, a gift from your mother three years ago, and adjust your school uniform nervously. Your hair is a bit messy, and your glasses keep slipping down your nose.
As you step inside, the grandeur of the place hits you like a tidal wave. The floors are polished to a gleaming shine, intricate chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, and every piece of furniture looks like it belongs in a museum. You can't help but feel out of place, a small figure in this space.
Just then, you hear the soft click of heels on the marble floor. You look up to see her, your grandmother, a woman you've never met before. She descends the grand staircase with an air of grace and authority, her posture perfect and her gaze steady. She's dressed in an elegant gown, a deep shade of blue that compliments her dignified demeanor. In contrast, you feel even more self-conscious about your plain school uniform.
"Hello, dear," she greets you with a refined smile. Her voice is smooth and cultured, a stark contrast to your own uncertain tone. You mumble a shy greeting in return, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Please, sit," she says, gesturing to a plush armchair near the grand fireplace. You sit down cautiously, feeling the softness of the cushion beneath you. A maid approaches and places a delicate china teacup in front of you, the steam rising in gentle curls.
Your grandmother takes a seat across from you. She reaches into a small velvet box and retrieves a necklace and charm, the gold catching the light in a mesmerizing way. "Here's a gift," she says, handing it to you, "has been passed down through our family for generations."
You take the necklace. The charm is intricate, a tiny masterpiece that speaks of history and legacy. You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. You play around with it nervously as your grandmother eyes you quietly.
As you sip your tea, you can't help but make a bit of noise, your lack of manners showing. Your grandmother eyes you critically but says nothing about your manners. Instead, she clears her throat, the sound resonating in the quiet room.
"I have some news for you," she announces, her tone serious and measured.
You stop stirring your tea and look up, pushing your glasses up your nose in a nervous habit. "What is it?" you ask, curious.
She takes a deep breath, her gaze steady and unwavering. "You are the Princess of Genovia."
For a moment, the world seems to stand still. You choke on your tea, coughing violently as you try to process her words. "What?" you exclaim.
She nods, her expression grave. "Your father was the Prince of Genovia, which makes you the next heir."
"No, no way," you stammer, shaking your head, "I'm just… an invisible me. There's no way I'm a princess."
Your grandmother's gaze softens slightly, "It's true, my dear. Your father never had the chance to tell you, but this is your birthright."
The weight of her words presses down on you, a crushing force that makes it hard to breathe. Your life, once simple and predictable, has been changed.
"No," you whisper, your voice trembling. "This can't be happening."
Your grandmother is about to explain further, her lips parting to speak, but the overwhelming reality hits you like a freight train. You stand up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound that echoes in the grand room. "I need to go," you say, your voice breaking.
Without waiting for a response, you turn and rush out of the mansion, your footsteps echoing in the vast hallway. you push the door open, the bright sunlight outside momentarily blinding you. You stumble down the steps.
You walk quickly, almost running, trying to put as much distance between yourself and the mansion as possible. How can this be real? How can you, an quiet girl with a simple life, be a princess? You are the Princess of Genovia. And your life will never be the same again.
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THE NEXT DAY, the reality of the previous day’s still hangs heavily over you. You can hardly focus on anything, your mind constantly drifting back to the shocking news. You try to go about your usual routine, but everything feels different, surreal.
As you sit at the kitchen table, pushing your breakfast around your plate, you hear a knock at the door. Your mother goes to answer it, and you strain to hear the conversation. Your heart skips a beat when you hear your grandmother’s voice.
“Hello, my dear,” she greets your mother politely. “May I come in?”
“Of course,” your mother replies, sounding a bit nervous.
They walk into the kitchen together, and your grandmother’s presence fills the small room. She’s dressed impeccably, her elegance stark against the worn, cozy surroundings of your home.
“Good morning,” she says to you with a gentle smile. “I hope you’re feeling a bit better today.”
You manage a nod, but the tightness in your chest doesn’t ease. You notice your mother looks anxious, avoiding your gaze.
“Please, have a seat,” your mother offers, gesturing to a chair. Your grandmother sits gracefully, folding her hands in her lap.
“Yesterday was overwhelming, I know,” your grandmother begins, her tone soft but firm. “But we need to talk more about this. There are important things you need to understand.”
You remain silent, feeling a mix of resentment and curiosity.
“There’s a royal ball in two months,” she continues. “It’s an important event where you’ll be formally introduced as the Princess of Genovia. It’s crucial for our country and for you.”
Your mother takes a deep breath, finally looking at you. “I know this is a lot to take in,” she says. “I should have told you earlier, but I wanted to protect you. I wanted you to have a normal life.”
You feel a surge of frustration. “You knew? All this time?” you ask, your voice shaking.
Your mother nods, her eyes filled with regret. “Yes, I knew. I’m sorry, honey. I thought it was for the best.”
Your grandmother reaches out, placing a hand on yours. “I understand that this is a lot to accept. But you have a duty, a responsibility to your heritage. This is your birthright.”
You pull your hand back, feeling overwhelmed. “I’m just a normal girl. I don’t know anything about being a princess.”
Your grandmother’s expression softens. “You may feel that way now, but you have the potential to be a great leader. We will help you every step of the way. You won’t be alone in this.”
Your mother’s eyes plead with you. “Please, sweetheart. Give it a chance. We’ll support you in any way we can.”
You sit in silence for a few moments, the weight of their words pressing down on you. The idea of being a princess, attending a royal ball, and stepping into a completely different world feels terrifying. But there’s a small part of you that’s curious, that wonders what it would be like to be this new identity.
Finally, you let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you say reluctantly. “I’ll do it.”
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A FEW DAYS LATER, the sun casts a warm glow over your grandmother’s mansion as you arrive. You clutch your simple backpack, feeling out of place yet again as you step into the grand foyer. Your grandmother greets you with a kind smile, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.
“Today’s the day,” she says, leading you to a large room filled with mirrors and high-end beauty products. “I’ve arranged for the best stylists to give you a makeover. They’ll help you look the part of a princess.”
You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. As you take a seat, a team of stylists and beauticians file into the room, each one carrying various tools and products. They begin their work, chatting amiably as they discuss your transformation.
For nearly four hours, you sit patiently as they work their magic. Your hair is trimmed and styled into a sleek, elegant look that frames your face perfectly. Your eyebrows are shaped, making your eyes look bigger and more defined. They remove your glasses and fit you with contact lenses, giving you a clearer view of the world without the barrier of frames.
As they finish up, you catch glimpses of yourself in the mirror, hardly recognizing the person staring back at you. Your skin glows, your features are more defined, and you look… different. Beautiful, even.
Just then, your grandmother walks back into the room. She pauses mid-step, her eyes widening in shock as she takes in your transformation. You stand up and turn to face her, feeling a rush of nerves.
“Oh my,” she breathes, her voice filled with awe. “You look absolutely stunning.”
You blush, feeling a mix of pride and embarrassment. “Really?”
“Really,” she confirms, stepping closer to take a better look. “Your hair, your eyes, everything… You look like a true princess.”
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. The stylists beam with pride, knowing they’ve done an excellent job.
Your grandmother reaches out to gently touch your hair. “This is just the beginning, my dear.”
As you walk through the grand halls of the mansion, you feel different. Lighter. More confident. You catch a glimpse of yourself in a large, ornate mirror as you pass by, and for the first time, you see not just a girl, but a princess.
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THE NEXT DAY, YOU SIT NERVOUSLY IN THE BACK OF THE LIMO, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. You’ve been riding in this luxurious vehicle for a few days now, but it still feels surreal. The thought of people judging you for your sudden change in appearance and status makes your stomach churn. Today, you’re picking up Haneul and Sunghoon.
As the limo pulls up in front of their house, you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. The driver opens the door, and Sunghoon steps inside. His jaw drops as he sees you, his eyes widening in shock.
“Y/N… you look…” He’s completely speechless, his gaze fixed on you.
Before he can finish his sentence, Haneul appears, her voice breaking the silence. “Sunghoon, get in already—” Her words trail off as she sees you, her eyes widening in surprise.
Sunghoon finally finds his voice. “You look amazing,” he says, blush creeping up his cheek.
Haneul, on the other hand, doesn’t share his enthusiasm. She crosses her arms, her expression turning sour. “So, what’s the deal? You get a makeover and now you’re one of those popular girls who’ll ditch us?”
Your heart sinks at her words. “Haneul, it’s not like that…”
“It sure seems like it,” she snaps, her voice filled with hurt. “You think you’re better than us now?”
Sunghoon, sensing the tension, tries to intervene. “Haneul, that’s not fair. Let’s hear her out.”
You feel a mix of frustration and sadness. “I haven’t changed on the inside. I’m still me. There’s just a lot going on right now.”
Haneul raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”
The limo moves closer to the school, and you feel the pressure mounting. “I can’t explain it all right now, but you need to trust me.”
As the limo approaches the school, you grab a hat from your bag and put it on, hoping to avoid drawing too much attention. You quickly get out of the car, pulling Haneul aside while Sunghoon steps out slowly, still in shock.
“Haneul, listen,” you whisper urgently, glancing around to make sure no one is overhearing. “I need to tell you something. Please, just hear me out.”
Haneul crosses her arms, still looking skeptical but nods for you to continue.
You take a deep breath, lowering your voice even further. “I’m a princess. The Princess of Genovia.”
“What?” Haneul whispers, her anger dissipating into surprise.
“It’s true,” you say, your voice trembling. “I found out a few days ago. My grandmother told me. My father was the Prince of Genovia, which makes me the next heir.”
Haneul’s expression softens as she processes your words. “Really?” she asks, her voice filled with wonder. “You’re a real princess?”
You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “Yes. And it’s been overwhelming. I didn’t mean to hide it from you.”
Haneul’s face breaks into a smile, and she reaches out to squeeze your hand. “Why didn’t you just say so? That’s amazing! I’m sorry I was so harsh.”
"I'm sorry, I couldn't tell anyone." I say, shrugging.
Haneul giggles. “So, does this mean we get to visit a castle?”
You laugh, “Maybe one day. But for now, I need you both to keep this a secret.”
Haneul nods “Absolutely. My lips are sealed.”
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YOU SIT IN CLASS, your hat pulled low to avoid drawing attention. Your fingers tap nervously on your desk as you try to focus on your work. The day has already been overwhelming, and the last thing you want is more eyes on you. But as the class progresses, you hear a familiar, smug voice from across the room.
“Sir, Y/N is wearing a hat, and I think that’s against the school dress code,” Eunae says, a smirk playing on her lips.
Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as the class turns to look at you. The teacher glances up from his desk, adjusting his glasses.
“Oh, well, that is true,” he says, his tone regretful but firm. “Y/N, unfortunately, you have to take your hat off.”
Taking a deep breath, you reach up and slowly remove your hat, letting your hair cascade down your back. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, and you brace yourself for the inevitable laughter or teasing. Instead, you hear a murmur of whispers filling the room.
“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re so pretty! Can we be friends?” one girl exclaims.
“Your hair is gorgeous!” another student adds, their tone filled with genuine admiration.
You look up, seeing the mean girls from your class suddenly smiling at you, their previous disdain replaced with a strange, almost predatory friendliness.
“I think it’s a wig,” someone whispers, a hint of skepticism in their voice.
Before the whispers can escalate, Haneul’s voice cuts through the noise. “I think her hair is gorgeous,” she says loudly, her tone firm and supportive. “But let’s get back to class. We have more important things to focus on.”
Her words have the desired effect, and the classroom falls silent. The teacher nods approvingly and returns to the lesson. You glance at Haneul, gratitude evident in your eyes. She gives you a reassuring smile, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you.
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YOU'RE WALKING TO SCHOOL ON AC RISP MORNING. Sunghoon is beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his uniform.
"So, YN," Sunghoon begins, his tone casual, but there's a hint of something more beneath it. "Do you have any plans for Saturday?"
You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Not really. Why do you ask?"
Sunghoon hesitates for a moment, then looks at you with a mix of hope and excitement. "Well, my band is performing at this new place downtown. It's kind of a big deal for us, and I was wondering if you'd like to come."
You stop walking, "Really? That sounds amazing! I'd love to come."
A grin spreads across Sunghoon's face, and he looks relieved. "Great! It starts at seven. I'll send you all the details later." As you start walking again, the conversation shifts back to lighter topic.
"You know," you say after a while, "I've always wanted to see you perform. This is going to be so cool."
Sunghoon chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I'm glad you're excited. It means a lot to me that you'll be there."
When you reach the school gates, Sunghoon turns to you, "Thanks, YN. For coming on Saturday. I know it's going to be awesome with you there."
You smile, giving him a gentle nudge. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. See you later,"
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A FEW DAYS PASS, and you're walking through the bustling school courtyard, lost in thought about what you might wear on Saturday, when you hear someone call your name.
You turn around to see Siwoo, the school's star athlete and the crush you've harbored for as long as you can remember. He's walking toward you with that effortless confidence that always makes your heart race. The chatter around you seems to fade as he gets closer, and you can feel a rush of butterflies in your stomach.
"Hey, YN," Siwoo says, his voice smooth and casual. "Got a minute?"
You nod, trying to keep your cool. "Sure, what's up?"
Siwoo runs a hand through his hair, looking almost bashful for a moment. "So, I broke up with Eunae."
Your eyes widen in surprise. Eunae, the queen bee of the school and someone who has made your life particularly difficult, is no longer with Siwoo? You can't help but feel a tiny spark of hope. "Oh, wow. I didn't know."
Siwoo shrugs, his usual smirk returning. "Yeah, it just wasn't working out. Anyway, there's this beach party on Saturday. I was wondering if you wanted to go with me."
Your heart nearly stops. Is this really happening? You, the one who has always admired him from afar, being asked to a party by Siwoo? Without hesitation, you blurt out, "Oh my god? Yes?"
Siwoo's smirk widens, and he gives you a wink. "Great. I'll pick you up at seven."
As he walks away, you can't help but watch him go, your mind spinning. The butterflies in your stomach are in full force now, and you feel like you're floating. You finally manage to turn around and head to your next class, but your thoughts are excitement and disbelief.
For the rest of the day, you can't focus on anything. You keep replaying the moment in your mind, wondering if it was all a dream. But no, it was real, and now you have plans for Saturday with Siwoo.
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YOU STEP OUT OF THE LIMO, adjusting your school bag on your shoulder. You take a deep breath, ready to face another day of classes and the usual high school chaos. But today, something feels off.
Suddenly, there's a commotion. A crowd of photographers and reporters seem to materialize out of nowhere, cameras flashing and microphones thrust towards you.
"Is it true you're the princess of Genovia?"
"How long have you known?"
"What's your next step as royalty?"
You stand there, stunned and overwhelmed. Your heart races as the realization dawns on you: the secret is out. You glance around frantically and spot Haneul, your best friend and the only person you trusted with the truth. Her eyes are wide with shock, and you can't help but wonder if she was the one who let it slip.
Everyone around you is whispering, their curious and excited gazes fixed on you. Some are even reaching out, asking for your autograph.
Before you can fully process what's happening, you're gently but firmly guided through the crowd by school security and pushed towards the principal's office.
You sit in the chair, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts and questions. Moments later, the door opens, and your grandmother strides in.
"YN," she says, her tone calm but serious. "We need to discuss the next steps for you. I've already spoken to the principal about the necessary procedures to ensure your safety and academic success."
You nod, still in a daze. "What's going to happen now?"
She sits down beside you, her expression softening slightly. "Things will change, my dear. There will be more security, and certain aspects of your education will need to be adjusted to accommodate your new responsibilities. But don't worry, we'll handle this together."
The principal enters, looking a bit flustered but maintaining a professional demeanor. "We've arranged for additional security measures starting today. Also, your schedule will be slightly adjusted."
You take a deep breath, trying to absorb everything.
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THE SUN IS SETTING OVER THE BEACH, casting a warm golden glow across the sand. The beach party is in full swing, with music playing and laughter filling the air. You’re sitting with Siwoo by a bonfire, enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze and the warmth of his presence. He’s been attentive all evening, and you can hardly believe that you're here with him, the guy you’ve admired for so long.
He leans in closer, his voice low. "I'm really glad you came tonight, YN."
You smile, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "Me too, Siwoo."
Just as the moment seems perfect, a sudden burst of light blinds you. You blink, confused, as you realize it’s the flash of a camera. Then another, and another. You look around and see a swarm of paparazzi emerging from the shadows, their cameras aimed directly at you.
"Princess YN, over here!"
"How does it feel to be the princess of Genovia?"
The questions come rapid-fire, and the crowd presses closer. Panic sets in as you realize your private moment is being invaded. You look at Siwoo, who seems just as stunned as you are.
"Come on, we need to get out of here," he says, grabbing your hand.
You run together, dodging through the throng of people and flashing cameras. He leads you to a small beach shed and pulls you inside, closing the door behind you.
Siwoo looks at you, concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?"
You nod, trying to catch your breath. "Yeah, I just… I didn't expect this."
He steps closer, his gaze intense. "Neither did I. But, YN, there's something I've wanted to do all night."
He leans in, and for a moment, you think he's going to kiss you. But something feels off. The reality of your situation crashes down on you. This isn’t how you imagined it, not surrounded by paparazzi and hiding in a shed.
You try to pull away, but Siwoo's grip tightens slightly.
Just as you're about to push him away, the door of the shed creaks open slightly, and the flash of a camera captures the moment. Realization hits you like a ton of bricks. This was all a setup. Siwoo purposely kissed you in front of the cameras.
"I can't do this," you say, your voice trembling as you push your way out. "I'm sorry."
Before he can respond, you slip out of the shed, the flashes blinding you once again. You hear the paparazzi shouting and the clicks of their cameras, but all you can think about is getting away. You run down the beach, tears stinging your eyes.
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THE NEXT MORNING, you pick up the newspaper on your doorstep and your heart drops at the front-page headline:
THE DAILY BUZZ
PRINCESS OF GENOVIA HAS A BOYFRIEND?
Photos of the Princess in a Beach Scandal
Your stomach churns as you see the photos of Siwoo kissing you splashed across the front page. The headline is bold, the images intrusive and unmissable. The story details the scandal that erupted at the beach party, with paparazzi capturing every moment of your private exchange.
You arrive at school, clutching the newspaper in your hand. Whispers follow you through the halls, eyes lingering on you with curiosity and judgment. You can hear snippets of conversations as you pass by.
"Did you see the photos? I can't believe it's true!"
"She's really the princess of Genovia, and now she's got a boyfriend?"
The words sting, but what hurts more is the realization you have yet to face: Sunghoon. You had forgotten about the whole performance on Saturday. You scan the hallway and finally spot him by his locker, his face buried in a book. As you approach, he looks up, and your heart sinks further. His eyes are cold, filled with disappointment and hurt.
"Sunghoon," you start, your voice barely above a whisper. "I—"
But before you can continue, the bell rings, echoing through the corridor. You glance at the clock, realizing you have to get to your private class. You want to stay and explain, to apologize, but you know you can’t afford to be late.
"I'm sorry," you manage to say, but Sunghoon has already turned away.
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YOU RETREAT TO YOUR ROOM, hoping for some quiet time. Hours pass as you lie on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything in your mind—the paparazzi, the headlines, Sunghoon's hurt expression.
As the night deepens, a realization slowly dawns on you, one that sends a jolt through your heart. You don't have feelings for Siwoo. The excitement and attraction were all lies, fueled by the thrill of being noticed by someone so popular. But when you think about Sunghoon, it's different. You remember all the moments you've shared, the way he makes you laugh, the way he genuinely cares about you.
Sitting up, you take a deep breath. It’s Sunghoon. It’s always been Sunghoon.
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YOU PACE AROUND YOUR LIVING ROOM, your heart heavy with the weight of the misunderstanding. Mustering the courage, you pick up the phone and call him.
"Hey, can you come over? I really need to talk to you," you ask softly.
There's a pause on the other end before Sunghoon finally agrees.
When he arrives, he looks weary, the pain still evident in his eyes. You take a deep breath and begin, "Sunghoon, I'm so sorry. I need to explain what happened. Siwoo was using me, and I didn't realize it until it was too late. I didn't meant to skip your band performance."
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I… I believe you."
"I know, and I'm so sorry," you repeat, your voice earnest. After a moment, you look at him, your heart pounding. "There's something else. Can you come to the ball with me? It's the Genovia Special Ball, and I want you to come with me."
Sunghoon looks at you, surprised. "What?"
You smile a little and repeat yourself, "Will you come with me to the ball?"
After a few moments, he nods slowly. "Okay, I'll go."
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THE DAY OF THE GRAND BALL HAD FINALLY ARRIVED, but instead of excitement, you were overwhelmed with stress. Your grandmother was incredibly upset about the whole situation, her stern words echoing in your mind. The pressure of becoming a princess was suffocating, and in a moment of desperation, you decided to run off.
As you hurriedly packed your things, you noticed a letter on your desk. With trembling hands, you opened it and began to read.
"Dearest Y/N,
If you’re reading this, it means the time has come for you to embrace your destiny. I know it seems daunting, but remember, you are stronger than you think. You have the heart of a lion and the grace of a swan. Being a princess isn’t about perfection; it’s about kindness, courage, and love. I believe in you, and I know you will make me proud. Trust yourself, and remember, you are never alone.
With all my love, Dad"
Tears welled up in your eyes as you read his words. You realized, you couldn't run away from reality and you had to face it.
Meanwhile, at the ball, Sunghoon was waiting anxiously. He felt betrayed and worried as you hadn't shown up yet. Your grandmother, too, was nervous, glancing at the door every few minutes, hoping you would walk through.
Sunghoon paced near the entrance, his eyes darting to the door every few seconds. "Where is she?" he muttered under his breath, clenching his fists. He felt a pang of hurt, thinking you had left him again.
Your grandmother, regal yet tense, addressed the crowd with a forced smile. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. My granddaughter will be joining us shortly."
Determined, you dashed out into the pouring rain, hailing a taxi to the grand party. The rain soaked through your dress, but you didn’t care. You arrived, drenched from head to toe, but your resolve was unshaken. You rushed inside, interrupting your grandmother's speech. She was shocked to see you, but relief washed over her face as she motioned for you to come forward.
"Y/N, my dear," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "You made it."
Soaking wet, you stood beside her, and she handed you the microphone. Despite your usual fear of public speaking, you felt an unexpected calmness. You began your speech, your voice steady and clear.
"Ladies and gentlemen," you started, taking a deep breath, "I apologize for my tardiness. Today, I was reminded of the true meaning of being a princess. It’s not about the crown or the title, but about the responsibility to lead. My father’s words reminded me of this, and I am here to honor him and all of you."
You paused, scanning the room filled with expectant faces. "Being a princess means embracing the values that truly matter: compassion, integrity, and dedication to our people. It's about standing up for what is right, even when it is difficult. It's about listening to the voices of those who cannot be heard and offering a hand to those in need."
You took another deep breath, feeling the weight of the crown yet also the support of your father's spirit. "My father taught me that true leadership comes from the heart. It's about being a beacon of hope and a pillar of strength for others. I promise to uphold these values and to be the princess that you all deserve."
The crowd listened intently, and by the time you finished, they erupted in cheers. Your grandmother placed the crown on your head, and you were officially crowned princess.
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YOU SLIPPED INTO A BREATHTAKING GOWN OF SILK AND LACE , its intricate design accentuating your every movement. Your hair was swept up into an elegant chignon, adorned with delicate jewels that sparkled under the ballroom lights.
You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement as you re-entered the ballroom. The music had started, and couples were already dancing. Your eyes searched the room until they found Sunghoon, who was waiting for you near the dance floor. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and he quickly made his way to your side.
"You look stunning," he whispered, offering his hand. You blushed and took it, feeling the warmth of his touch.
"Thank you," you replied softly. "Shall we?"
He led you to the center of the dance floor, and the music shifted to a slow, romantic melody. Sunghoon's arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as he began to lead you in the dance. The world seemed to fade away as you moved in perfect harmony, your eyes locked on each other.
"You did amazing tonight," Sunghoon said, his voice low and sincere. "I'm so proud of you."
You smiled, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection. "I couldn't have done it without you," you admitted. "Thank you for believing in me."
As the dance continued, the room seemed to blur around you, leaving only the two of you in focus. Sunghoon's arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.
"Y/N," he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek. "There's something I've wanted to tell you for a long time."
Your heart raced, and you felt a flutter of anticipation. "What is it?" you whispered, barely able to breathe.
"I love you," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I always have."
Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours. His hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you even closer, while his other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing your skin.
You could feel his heartbeat through the closeness, and you melted into his embrace. Your hands instinctively reached up, one resting on his shoulder while the other gently tangled in his hair.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.
"I love you too, Sunghoon," you confessed, your voice trembling with happiness. "I always will."
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choccy-milky · 7 months ago
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Babes you got my foaming at the mouth every time you post or update! This new chapter was so precious!!
Modern AU where the only thing that’s different was instead of an illustration of Sherlock Holmes, it’s a picture of Banana Pumpkinpatch
GIRL THE WAY I GOOGLED "BANANA PUMPKINPATCH CHARACTER" BEFORE REALIZING YOU MEANT BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH LMFAOOO 😭😭😭 but aww THANK YOU💖and this is amazing i had to draw it as soon as u sent it, i love that cloras love for sherlock holmes also works in a modern au setting. CLORAS LOVE FOR SHERLOCK IS ETERNAL
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(and yes seb would read/watch it bc of her)
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rageserenity · 8 months ago
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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.
For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!
With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)
The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.
Mutual Pining
Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.
2. Alternate Meetings
There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?
3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink
This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!
4. Canon Fix-It
All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.
5. Hurt/Comfort
Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹
6. Canon Compliant
Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!
7. Beach Divorce
Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!
8. Domestics
Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.
9. Found Family
The real heart of x-men!
10. Time Travel
There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.
11. AU
Love a good AU!
12. There Is Only One Bed
Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?
13. Genosha
By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.
14. Declaration(s) of Love
Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?
15. Jealousy
Need I say more.
16. Reunion
These two have absolutely no chill.
17. Soulmates
Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.
18. The DOFP Aircraft
The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?
19. Gay Mutant Road Trip
You already know.
20. Body Swap
SO fun when people have superpowers.
21. First Kiss
When? How? Who initiated it?
22. The Mansion
Mansion!content is a genre of its own.
23. Conflicting Ideology
Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.
24. Sebastian Shaw
A trope unto himself.
25. Team As Matchmaker
They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?
26. Cooking
Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…
27. Hurt No Comfort
Plenty of scope with these two 🥲
28. Growing Old Together
Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!
29. Making Up
*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe
30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know
Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.
I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁
*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)
If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.
Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!
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blackkatdraws2 · 6 months ago
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I'm involved in a Stanley Reblog Chain and put effort into these drawings so I'll post them here too.
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[The other characters belong to insomniphic / beartitled / and marionette-j2x]
[Just me rambling underneath!] ↓
Tumblr has a tag limit and it grates my nerves to no end to know that I can't ramble as much as I'd like to...
Stanley and the bad bitch he pulled by being a loser. Imagine having a hot babe deform reality just to be together with you because he sensed you were feeling lonely without him. [WHEN IS IT MY TURN?!]
It's funny because with the general vibe of their AU, it would make sense for him to show up in the most flashy but also unnerving way possible. The Narrator's [Black's] arrival has to grab people's eyes since attention and views are what he's all about.
I wasn't sure what type of characterization they had so I just played it safe and [tried to] draw how my characters would respond instead of blindly guessing how the others would talk or act around each other. [My Stanley is antisocial and an anxiety-ridden freak.]
Also, I've been wondering what their height differences actually were when I saw my Stanley have to look up at Marionette's Narrator [since this guy is pretty damn tall] so I did a bit of digging and this was what I found.
I had a lot of fun making this by the way. It's been a while since I've participated in any Reblog Chains that involved character interactions and making comics, so it's a real throwback to when I first started posting TSP art in 2023.
Stanley here is an absolute social shutoff teehee, but he does talk back when talked to. His responses usually leave no openings to continue the conversation though. He's the type of guy to stay on the corner and watch everyone else.
As for the Narrator [Black] he's a bit strange. He's proper in public, but he doesn't think the other people are special [or not as special as he is at least]. He just doesn't care to be honest, he keeps to himself [along with Stanley] and that's it. It's a miracle for Stanley to have even pulled somebody like Black considering their personalities are the type to clash with one another. [They love each other though, genuinely. Despite how deranged they can be towards each other sometimes, that development took a long time to be nurtured into something healthier for those two.]
Also, 4th wall breaking in action!!!!!!!!!!!
Black didn't want to interrupt this comic since it was made for Stanley but after the other three came in he lost reservations and came in as well.
[Copy and Pasting the tags of my other post because I am NOT re-writing all of this...]
These two would probably just stay in their own spot [somewhere quiet and more alone]. This place is a bit too crowded for their liking. But I would be very happy to jump on any opportunity to make my guys interact with the others!!!!! Don't be afraid to throw a bone [prompt] for me to bite on, okay?
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byhees · 1 year ago
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pillow barriers between your bodies.
엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 500 genre fluff established relationship non-idol au warnings not proof-read pet-names skinship — more
a/n. requested— plagiarism notice
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heeseung would be so confused; had he done something wrong? were you, perhaps, upset with him? a million thoughts would be circling his mind. stretching an arm over to lightly tap you on the shoulder, finding the fluffy pillow a major annoyance. “you okay, babe?” he’d ask with such a soft voice, thoughts of dozing off dissipating into the air. might actually buy your acting, and gently yank the pillow out the way, closing the space between your bodies; after about three minutes of hugging, he’d fall into the depths of slumber, face buried in your embrace, soft snores falling from his mouth…
jay would be far too tired to question your actions— he just wants his late-night cuddles, and gentle hair strokes. cheek would be smooshed against the pillow, arm lazily draping over your side. would probably complain a little about how the pillow’s uncomfortably separating you two, and would eventually tuck the soft object at the end of the bed; “this feels so much better,” he’d murmur, eyelids fluttering close…
jake would probably sulk immediately— his offer for snuggles being so rudely rejected in front of him? that’s so not like you. tries to toss the pillow away, but is met, face first, with another one. “no cuddles today?” he’d ask, and his pout would only deepen with your response; you’d eventually give in, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to his cheek. his sulky demeanour would evaporate so quickly, and he’d pull you into a tight hug…
sunghoon would watch the whole thing in silence, and dramatically sigh. musters all his acting knowledge to concoct an expression of mock offence— “and i thought i was your favourite cuddle buddy”. would playfully snatch the pillow away, and draw you close in his embrace, hands finding recluse in tracing faint shapes on your skin; “i’m reclaiming my rightful spot”. holds you close to him the whole night…
sunoo would instantly gawk at you, wide eyed and everything; is probably subtly sarcastic as he quips about how he’s been ‘replaced’. would try and shift the pillow away, little by little, but immediately feigns cluelessness when you look up at him and point it out. at one point, he’d simply just wrap his arms around both you and the pillow, sandwiching the rectangle of fluff between your bodies…
jungwon would immediately, and i repeat, immediately, get worried; wonders if anything has happened, and offers a listening ear. pulls the pillow away, and embraces you in a back hug, indirectly spooning you in the process; “everything alright, angel?” would pout in response after hearing about your little scheme. ends up falling asleep a few moments after, a little content smile lightly tugging on the corners of his lips...
riki would be teasing you so much; the room would be a little bit dim, and he’d just be playfully smiling. gradually scoots closer to you under the guise of feeling cold from the small, shared blanket. swiftly pulls the pillow out the way, and nuzzles himself close to you; “i think this arrangement suits us better. what do you think, love?” would slide an arm around your waist, and fall asleep to the lullaby of your hushed laughter…
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taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @g4m3girl @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels
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lowkeyremi · 9 months ago
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"I'M PREGNANT"
How they react when you tell them you're pregnant ! ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami (fem reader)
content: no curse!au, fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of infertility (choso), mentions of a miscarriage, established relationship (marriage + dating), children, families.
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Gojo Satoru
Upon arriving home from another stressful day of work, Satoru looks around for his loving, beautiful, awesomest (his words not yours), girlfriend.
"UGHH I had a HORRIBLE day today. Baby, where are you so I can tell you all about it?!!" He takes note of how most of the lights are off and he can't smell dinner. Even on your worst work days you always make dinner, so there are two things Satoru can think of off the top of his head. A. You're out with friends and forgot to tell him or, B. Something is really wrong and you're hiding from him.
His stomach drops at the idea of option B, and as much as he'd like to eliminate that option it is very possible.
"[name]? Where are you?" He asks loud enough for you to hear it from your shared bathroom. You stare silently at the three positive pregnancy tests on the floor next to you. You know it's only a matter of time before he figures it out because he's used your real name instead of a pet name.
"If you're cheating on me then don't worry. I'll only kill the bastard who dared to make a move on you." If you weren't so stressed from your current situation you might have laughed at the fact that Satoru is a clueless idiot. Why would you cheat on him?
He starts walking deeper into the apartment. Into your room, you note, because you can hear his soft footsteps.
"Tell the coward to come out, babe. I bet he's in there with you fearing for his life right now." His voice sounds deadly but you know deep inside he's probably devastated thinking you've cheated on him.
"It's just me 'Toru. I.. I um. I need a minute." He shuffles outside of the door. If you're correct he's probably pressing his ear to the door to listen for another man's voice.
"I'm unlocking the door." He says, and fuck, you forgot that there's that little key at the top of the door to unlock it.
"Toru don't!" He unlocks the door pushing it open to reveal what's going on. It all happens too fast, you launch to try and close the door. In the process, one of the three tests gets kicked. His eyes draw to the moving object. They focus in on the test and he about falls to the ground.
"B-baby.. what are those?" The silence after his sentence is so loud that you could hear the busy city life outside of the bathroom window.
"You know what they are Satoru." He makes his way over to you embracing you so delicately like he'd break you if he squeezed any harder.
"Am I gonna be a daddy?" The question is whispered softly into your ear. Your tears fall landing on his shoulder.
"If you want to keep the baby, then yes." Ultimately it's not his choice, he knows that, but he also understands that this statement you've mentioned means you've already made your decision to keep the little baby forming inside of you.
"Fuck yeah I wanna keep it! Hope it looks like me so you have two adorably cute people to look at everyday. Also what the hell, my pull out game sucks!" He starts muttering to himself about how he could have sworn he hadn't cum inside of you recently.
All your anxiety subsides, and is replaced with faint annoyance when you roll your eyes.
"I'm having second thoughts." He doesn't realize you're joking because of how serious you look.
"Waittttttt I take it back!! The baby can look like you instead PLEASEEEEE PLEASEE KEEP IT." It's astonishing how your boyfriend can go from thinking you've cheated on him to being a sap in a matter of seconds.
Geto Suguru
"Sugu... can we go get some food?" This is the sixth night in a row you've asked this question. At first, Suguru just thought you had the munchies, but after observing you, he thinks there could be a different reason for your sudden change of behavior.
"It's 2:30 in the morning doll.." You sit up sleepily to check your phone and sure enough there are about two minutes until it's 2:30 am.
"How do you do that, Sugu?" He shrugs matching your previous actions.
"You seem to be having munchies every night? You getting enough to eat?" You nod meekly to answer his question. He suspects that you're pregnant but he's not sure how to bring it up.
"I have, but I dunno.. I've just been having these crazy food dreams that make me so hungry. I don't know where it's even coming from." He responds with a nod.
You take note of how he scratches the back of his neck, when he does that he's usually thinking.
"What's on your mind, Sugu?" He sighs inwardly as you get up out of bed to go make your latest craving: pork cutlet rice bowl with a fried egg on top. You didn't even really eat pork much but now you will destroy a pork cutlet bowl.
"I think you might be pregnant." You stop as soon as those words leave his mouth. The tension in the room rises as you try to find words to say.
"I- what? What makes you say that?"
"I mean think about it, last month I came inside of you like three or four times, which is enough to get you pregnant. On top of that you were testing out that new birth control since the other one was giving you weird side effects, and now you're craving pork. You don't even like pork." His reasoning makes since, but you're in denial right now.
"...That's a strong claim to make.... I mean what if it's just munchies?" He rubs his temple before getting out of the bed to join you in a hug.
"I'm not saying you are. I'm saying I think you are. If you are, you know I'll be there every step of the way with whatever decision you choose to make." He's so understanding, it's one of the many things you love about him.
For his sake you guys go out and buy a test for you to take. You took two of them, both showing a '+'.
"Well, it looks like you're gonna be a papa, Sugu." You say handing him the test, so he can see for himself.
"You're going to make an amazing mother, my love."
Kamo Choso
The both of you were clueless to the symptoms. He'd told you it's unlikely he'd ever get you pregnant because his sperm was tested, and he's very much infertile.
So, imagine his surprise when he sees a box of pregnancy tests under the bathroom sink while he's looking for a new tube of toothpaste.
You've already left for work so he'll wait for you to return to ask you about it.
He's excited, honestly. Choso has always wanted to start a little family with you, but he figured his infertility would stop that from happening. His doctor suggested adoption or a sperm donor. The two of you quickly ruled out the second option, it just didn't feel right to you guys.
The topic of adoption has been brought up here and there. You've both considered it deeply.
Choso can't sit still, he's off work today and the excitement within him will not fade away. All day long he's humming and practicing what he'll say to you when you get home. He even started looking at baby stuff.
When he hears the door unlock he's quick to act, greeting you at the door with kissing and smiles.
"Hey baby." His smile reaches his eyes, something it hasn't done in a little while.
"Hey, Cho. You seem to be in high spirits today."
"You're pregnant?" He blurts out the question without even thinking. Shit.. he was gonna try to ease into it.
"How'd you find out? Gosh did your stupid brother tell you? I was gonna surprise you!!" Confusion takes over your face when he gasps.
"You told Yuji before me? Baby.. how could you?" He's only half joking, he's a little bit sad, of course.
"I needed to tell someone!! I wanted to surprise you. I knew you were gonna be so excited." You pull him into a hug. He quickly reciprocates forgetting why he was even upset in the first place.
"Oh, I found out because the box of tests were under the sink."
"I probably should have hidden them better..."
Fushiguro Toji
Even though this is your second baby, telling him will never get any easier. When you'd told him about your first daughter he was indifferent about it. He'd go to great lengths to avoid you. Since you couldn't get through to him your only option was to call your step-son, Megumi.
He guessed that Toji was trying to figure out how to come to terms with being a father again. You had confronted your husband and he did admit to trying to understand the changes that would be made to your lives.
He said that his first daughter with you was his first and last child with you. You agreed with him because you only wanted a small little family. That was about three years ago. Here you are sitting on your bed looking at the test. Your daughter is playing on the floor with her toys.
"Mama, what wrong?" For her age she's quite perceptive. She must get that from Toji you think.
"Remember when you were telling Mama that you wanted a little sister or brother?" You'll break the news to her first. Her reaction will be the cuter and less stressful one.
"Mhm." Toji insisted on getting a bed frame that's somewhat high off the ground, so your little girl is standing right next to the bed waiting for you to pick her up.
Her deep green eyes stare deep into your soul as do your husband's eyes when he looks at you. She's sitting with her legs folded on your bed waiting for you to continue.
"Well.. you're going to have a little sibling." She springs up like a rocket, cheering in happiness.
"And when were you planning to tell me?" Your eyes quickly flicker over to the door frame which Toji is leaning against. There's a smug look on his face, nothing malice. Maybe he wants another one?
"Uh- Toji, baby, I was going to tell you soon. I just... Nami, my sweet girl? Can you go play with toys while mama and dad talk?" With ease she slides off your bed and walks out of your room.
Toji closes the door behind her ensuring she doesn't get nosy. "I didn't know how to tell you. You seemed really set on only having one.."
"I say stupid stuff all the time then change my mind. Do you really think I'd get mad at you for being pregnant? I'm the one who got you pregnant."
For once you don't know what to say.. you did think he'd be upset. Now that he's reassuring you all your anxiety washes away.
"I mean if it's another girl I might end it all." He's only joking, but you think another girl would be pretty funny.
"You're so stupid." He smirks at you, "You like it." Toji's not wrong, you do like it.
Nanami Kento
He could tell before you could. Everything started to add up when you complained about your back hurting, you hadn't mentioned period cramps in awhile and you seemed to be more clingy than Kento's ever seen you before.
It would make sense, he thinks. You'd gotten off of birth control last year and he stopped using condoms when you two got married. He wants kids more than you do, he believes. That want became more prominent after your first baby died three months into the pregnancy.
It would be cute to see you walk around with a round belly, complaining about little things like not being able to put your shoes on, or something of the sorts. He could once again experience that paternal feeling he felt awhile back.
"Honey, what're you daydreaming about now?" You ask joining him on the couch.
"Do you think you might be pregnant?" He asks suddenly taking you by surprise.
"I haven't really thought about it but it would make sense. The aches, cravings, yeah." If he were any normal man he'd get you a pregnancy test, but honey, this is Nanami Kento. You have a doctor's appointment scheduled for the next day.
When you arrive at your appointment with your husband the doctor has you pee in a little cup and he asks a bunch of boring but necessary questions.
On the drive home you notice Kento tapping the wheel to the tune of the song you're playing. He's never really liked your music tastes so he must really be excited.
"I can't wait to get the results." You nod in complete bliss. You're still trying to process the potential pregnancy. There was a time in the past; two months after you'd gotten off your birth control, you ended up pregnant but unfortunately your little baby passed away before being born.
There's hope in your heart that this baby is here to stay... a rainbow baby.
Within a few hours the doctor calls your husband telling him the results are positive. You're going to be a mother if this baby stays strong.
"We're going to be parents." He's so excited but he tries to contain his excitement.
"You're going to be a great daddy, Ken." He smiles dreamily at you. This is a dream come true to him. He couldn't think of anything better.
"I just know this is the one, Honey. We aren't going to lose this one." He tells you quietly with a little smile and you trust him. After all, Kento would never lie to you.
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spookyserenades · 1 year ago
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Trouvaille - Chapter Twelve
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Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader
Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance
Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Word Count; 16.6k
Trouvaille Masterlist
Trouvaille playlist
Updates on the 7th of each month
Hi babes!! Welcome to the latest update (a crazy one!!) Lot's going on in this chapter, including a boatload of angst, a bit of fluff, some ~spice~, and lots of emotions. It is a pretty Yoongi-heavy chapter (nice) so for all my Yoongi stans-- this one is for you! I hope you all enjoy this update, and let me know what you think if you'd like, and I'm sending you all my love 💕
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
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Yoongi leaned against the grimy plaster that made up the back hallway of The Black Lodge, trying not to grimace as he felt the silky material of his button-down sticking to the years of smoke residue and alcohol fumes. The air was thick with wispy clouds of cigar and cigarette smoke, as it always was, and the strange, dark energy of the bar was still ever-present; but Yoongi wasn’t entirely focused on that, for once. 
He could really use a cigarette, himself. Yoongi quit smoking around the time his mother passed away– no, don’t think about it. Using his pointed incisors, he bit down on his lower lip enough to draw blood, the piercing pain chasing any thoughts of his mother from his mind, a coping mechanism he’d picked up over the past year. Refusing to cut his hair, abstaining from composing, gnawing his lips into shreds; anything to distract, or perhaps to punish, to forget. 
Time marched on, unfortunately. Mourning in an already mournful place was useless and made him feel like he was drowning in a pit of molten tar. Even clinging to hope, that one day he’d be able to manage breaking free and finding somewhere else to live, the hope grew dimmer by the day. 
The frown on the leopard hybrid’s face deepened as the sound of someone retching in the men’s bathroom he was standing across from reached his sensitive ears. Sometimes, he wished he could stick pencils in the spotted appendages– he’d take normal, dim human hearing from his other set over some of the shit he had managed to overhear with hybrid ears during his nearly 28 years of life. Absently, he reached up to fiddle with one of the earrings dangling from his lobe– the silver, pointed shape of a feathered wing gliding between the pads of his forefinger and thumb. 
His frown turned into the faintest ghost of a smile, that vicious and searing sensation of growing hope knocking the wind out of him as he caught the scent of jasmine– mingling with sharp botanicals, a saccharine underlying sweetness, and something uniquely human. He straightened up immediately, the door of the women’s bathroom creaking open and a great gust of that delicious scent smacking him square in the face. 
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“I-? I what?” Y/N squeaked, not only unable to recover from the tender kisses Yoongi had showered over her wrist and hand, but the words that had come out of his mouth immediately after he pulled away from her slightly. “Y-yoongi. We kissed? I asked you to kiss me?”
Yoongi was now rather quiet, slowly moving away from her and staring out his window, his face somewhat closed off now that he had revealed what Y/N knew he was leaving out of the whole story of their first meeting. His tail was curling around his own waist mindlessly, and Y/N was cold and reeling with the absence of his body heat that was once accelerating her heartbeat into a gallop. 
It seemed that Yoongi was giving Y/N a few moments to process everything he confessed, a poorly-constructed imaginary wall in between them as she babbled nonsensically. 
“I’m? I don’t even know what to say. I never get that drunk, enough to ask for a kiss from a total stranger,” Y/N blurted out something that actually made sense after a few moments of stuttering, however, the statement that left her lips had Yoongi hissing and a flash of hurt sparking up his feline hazel gaze. Abruptly, Y/N wished she could collect her words from the air and stuff them back into her mouth. “I’m so, so sorry, Yoongi… I shouldn’t have forced you into a corner like that.”
Yoongi was astonished, his tail beginning to flick back and forth so sharply Y/N knew that he was very agitated. Deciding to shut up before she offended the leopard hybrid any more than she clearly already had, Y/N began to approach Yoongi at snail’s pace to prevent him from flinching away. 
“When did I say that you had forced me into a corner, Y/N? Are you serious right now?” Yoongi used her name for the first time in what felt like months, taking her off guard and making her swallow thickly. His voice was soft, but had a deadly edge to it, and the way his jaw was clenched had shivers rolling down her spine– Yoongi actually looked like the predatory leopard he was. 
“I was just saying, um, like I feel bad that I threw myself at you like that,” Y/N wished she could rewind time and relive the tender moment they had right before the bombshell was dropped, but that tenderness seemed to be leagues out of her grasp. 
“You did nothing of the sort. I told you, we talked for almost two hours. We were hardly strangers by the time I kissed you, by the way,” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at Y/N with a dangerous look in his eyes. It made Y/N want to back up and shrivel beneath his gaze, but she knew that Yoongi would never hurt her, so she stood her ground, albeit shakily. “I liked you, Y/N. I wanted to kiss you.”
“L-liked?” Y/N couldn’t help but emphasize the end of the word, the past tense, where Yoongi had implied that his affection for her had disappeared over the course of the year. 
After all, she made him wait, got his hopes up, and was now implying herself that he was nothing but a drunken mistake. Heart plummeting into her stomach, she watched Yoongi’s nose twitch, likely picking up on her anxiety and rising stress levels, the stoniness of his features loosening up a tad. The air was charged, tense, and Y/N wasn’t sure who would cut it first, and where the complicated conversation was going. 
“Y/N–” Yoongi took a step forward, his hand raised as if to place it on her cheek, before the sound of his bedroom door being blasted open cut him off with a surprised grunt, blood draining from his face. 
“HEY, YOONGI. WHAT TIME IS DINNER?” Hoseok jogged into the room shouting, loud rap music coming out of the earpods he was wearing, his breathing labored. 
The fox hybrid must have just come back from a run, and nothing on his face indicating he had a flying fucking clue what Y/N and Yoongi were talking about– he didn’t even seem to notice the tension swirling around the room, Y/N’s stricken expression, or the fact that she was just standing in the middle of Yoongi’s bedroom. Urgently, Yoongi put space between her and himself, dropping back into his composed attitude, like nothing had occurred at all. 
Ambling forward calmly, Yoongi yanked one of Hoseok’s earpods out, Hoseok grinning at him cheekily and switching off the music on his phone. Still standing in the center of the room motionless, Y/N gawked at Yoongi’s flawless attempt to appear normal and nonchalant. 
“Foxy, you trying to blow out your eardrums?” Yoongi grumbled, frowning deeply when Hoseok plopped down on the leopard hybrid’s bed. “Dude, you’re fucking soaked. Get off my bed.”
Hoseok did nothing of the sort, simply repeating his question about dinner, flicking his sweaty bangs off of his forehead with a smirk and leaning back on Yoongi’s cushy beige comforter smugly. 
“I don’t know when dinner will be ready. I was going to make something carb-heavy because I have a game tomorrow night. There’s pasta dough in the fridge…” Yoongi began tying up his hair with a purple scrunchie Y/N had got for him at work, the sight of him both using it and the fact that he didn’t let her put up his hair for the first time in weeks, making her chest squeeze in pain. “Can you help roll out the pasta for the machine, Foxy? I think Y/N mentioned she wanted to shower before dinner, which honestly you should be doing instead of perspiring all over my bed.”
Y/N hadn’t mentioned taking a shower before dinner at all, and she didn’t know if Yoongi wanted space from her and didn’t want to come out and say it, but the lie stung nonetheless. 
“Ah, I’ll shower before bed. Especially if I’m going to be covered in sweat and flour,” Hoseok heaved himself off of Yoongi’s bed, following Yoongi to the door and out into the hall. 
Willing her legs to move, Y/N felt her throat grow thick, confused and left out in the cold. Swiftly, she made her way into her bedroom once she was confident Hoseok and Yoongi were in the kitchen, hastily getting right into the shower so she could put off a crying session. Having red eyes and a swollen face at dinner wasn’t appealing to her, and would attract way too many questions. 
There was a lot for her to think about surrounding the state of her and Yoongi’s relationship now, but Y/N knew if she dwelled on it for too long, her attempt to keep tears at bay would be spoiled. She would give anything to pull the memory of her night at The Black Lodge with Yoongi out of the deep corners of her mind; to relive it, to understand her thought process and how her brain absorbed it. Her body felt weakened after the intensity of what she had learned, head pounding and legs like jelly, and she wasn’t sure if she could make it through dinner acting like everything was okay when she really just wanted to burrow into her bed for the next three weeks. 
Y/N took her sweet time massaging her jasmine lotion into her skin, selecting a warm set of pajamas, and even tidying up some clutter around her room to make sure she was only in the kitchen long enough to choke down some food before she could pull her cozy quilt over her head and sleep away all of her confusing thoughts. It would be damn near impossible for her to get out of the nightly movie routine she had created with all of the boys, and it was her turn to pick out the movie that night as well, but perhaps she could act like she was too exhausted to stay up past dinner. 
Taking Yoongi to his game the following day ought to be awkward. It wasn’t like they could exactly continue their conversation– the rest of the hybrids were going to tag along, so they could grab some dinner afterwards and have a nice Saturday night out on the town. In reality, she wasn’t sure she’d get more one-on-one time with Yoongi until their next piano lesson, if he kept dragging other hybrids into helping him with meals rather than her. 
Slapping moisturizer onto her face, Y/N stared at herself in the old silver mirror hanging over her sink vanity, miraculously appearing pretty normal despite the pure bewilderment she was still experiencing. There was barely detectable puffiness around her lash lines, probably from the effort of holding back frustrated tears in the shower, and she was fairly positive no one would even notice– that is, unless Taehyung got close up to her face, which was always a frequent occurrence. 
 Hoseok 🦊: dinner’s ready, darling~~~
Y/N’s phone chimed, a message and photo coming in from Hoseok. He sent her a selfie, flour dusted across his nose, holding up a plate of fettuccine alfredo, with broccoli and chicken, from the looks of it. Immediately, she saved the picture and added it as his contact photo, loving the little grin on his face– it replaced the former incredibly attractive photo of him post-track meet sweaty and smirking at the camera. Brightening upon seeing Hoseok’s good-natured, radiant smile, Y/N felt a whole lot better about heading out into the kitchen. Whatever was going on between her and Yoongi would eventually be sorted out and addressed, but it wasn’t fair to the others for her to hole up in her room and ignore their nightly routines.
Exiting her room, she headed straight to Namjoon’s half-open door, the crackly sound of his Walkman playing an old Bob Dylan tape filling his cozy space. The room was filled with lamplight, and Namjoon even had a stick of amber incense going on his desk, and she felt immense comfort in even just hanging out in the threshold of his door. However, the wolf hybrid wasn’t in either of his usual spots– the wooden desk chair or the cushy window seat. 
“Joonie?” Y/N called out softly, wondering if he had popped out to his van to retrieve a book or something. 
In response to the sound of his nickname being called, the door to Namjoon’s bathroom creaked open, a mumbled ‘hold on’ coming from him gruffly. Y/N took it upon herself to enter his room further; ever since his birthday, Namjoon really didn’t have a problem with her in his space, and often invited her into his room when he wanted her opinion on something. Typically, it was over a Tarot card meaning or her thoughts on a passage in a book he was reading; Y/N thought it was really sweet of him, and besides– she loved talking to Namjoon, he was insightful and overwhelmingly intelligent. 
Finally, the wolf hybrid emerged from his steamy bathroom, silvery hair towel-dried and ears similarly damp. It looked like he haphazardly threw on a wrinkly gray sleep shirt and sweatpants, Y/N realizing she must have caught him just out of the shower. The reality of that had her stomach flipping over, sheepishly cowering by his desk as he tossed his towel into the hamper and turned the volume down on his Walkman. 
“Is that tape one of the ones you got from the music store last time?” Y/N tried not to snort at the reediness of Bob Dylan’s croon, Namjoon meeting her at his desk and stubbing out the burning stick of incense. “I thought you only saved the ones that weren’t grating,” Y/N recalled Namjoon’s comment from that day, which seemed years ago, with a fond, teasing smile. 
Namjoon shook his head with a playful grimace, catching her gaze out of the corner of his eyes. He smelled really good, homey and masculine, and he was close enough for Y/N to try and pick out the top notes of his body wash: honey, musk, pine?
“Believe me. Dylan was one of the least grating of the bunch,” Namjoon responded, a dimple appearing on his cheek as the corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk. “Besides. ‘Visions Of Johanna’ is one of the most beautiful songs ever written. Lyrically speaking.”
“I’ll make sure to give it a listen, if that’s what you think,” Y/N automatically responded, already adding the song to a queue on her phone. Lately, she’d been getting really fantastic music recommendations from each hybrid, which was a lovely thing to share with them. It allowed her a tiny window into all of their different, complex personalities. “Dinner’s ready, by the way. Wanted to grab you before I headed to the kitchen.”
“I know. Yoongi texted all of us,” Namjoon reached down to ruffle Y/N’s hair, as if she was being silly for even telling him. 
“Oh, really?” Y/N squeaked quietly, following Namjoon around his bedroom like a lost puppy. He was tidying up, something Y/N noticed he tended to do before bed (otherwise, he’d be sleeping with encyclopedias and chess pieces). “Hoseok texted me…”
“Yeah, in the group chat,” Namjoon murmured distractedly, not minding that Y/N was hovering behind him like a phantom while he stacked loose pieces of parchment onto his nightstand, her eyebrows furrowing. “That’s usually how Yoongi lets us know food is ready.”
Y/N didn’t know how to respond. Apparently, all the hybrids had a group chat between one another, one that didn’t include her, and she didn’t quite know how to feel about that. She wasn’t even sure if Namjoon realized that he had revealed a secret– perhaps it wasn’t and she was just unobservant– but he sensed something was up when she was quiet, looking over his shoulder inquisitively. 
“What’s the matter? You look like I just stole candy from you,” Namjoon accused, though his eyes were soft and filled with concern. “Your eyes are a little puffy, too, have you been crying? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Namjoon, I’m okay. Just tired, is all,” Y/N didn’t even care if Namjoon could sniff out her lie, considering everything she had gone through that day. She didn’t have a shred of energy left to try and hide her emotions from her hybrids, and Namjoon usually wasn’t one to pry, so she prayed he’d take the hint. “Let’s go eat, okay?”
Before she could get too far, Namjoon caught a hold of her shoulders, two large palms settling over the joints and spinning her around so he could get a good look at her face. She was shaking, slightly, under his strong grip, eager to escape the scrutiny of those penetrating eyes of his. 
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but don’t lie to me. If you’re upset, at least don’t try to cover it all up,” Namjoon said firmly, leveling a stern look her way. 
“Joon, please…” Y/N used her hands to ease his off of her, resigned. “It’s nothing, just some stress. I’ll be fine after I get some sleep tonight.”
Namjoon looked unconvinced, some unknown emotion flashing through his eyes, Y/N squeezing his hands before releasing them. She swore she could hear low growling coming from deep within his chest, but he composed himself and lightly cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the hallway. 
“Okay, I’ll drop it,” Namjoon began heading out to the foyer, Y/N close behind. “Maybe you should read a book before bed to relax and get some good sleep. You’re really tense, I felt it in your shoulders. Have Yoongi make you some tea, too.”
Jolting at the mention of the very hybrid causing her rise in blood pressure, Y/N made a noncommittal noise. On the other hand, Namjoon’s kind consideration and concern for her well-being had butterflies coasting in her stomach. 
“You’re sweet, Joonie,” Y/N murmured, mirroring his earlier action by reaching up high to ruffle his still-damp starlight hair. “Pick out a book for me, please?”
Though he was in front of her leading the way to the kitchen, Y/N could see the very tips of his human ears turn red as he grunted out an embarrassed ‘okay’. Namjoon, she found out, was more of a softie than she originally understood. Besides, he always picked out excellent books she’s never read before, which was a bonus. 
The kitchen was warm and thick with the smell of roasted chicken and buttery, cheesy pasta, Y/N’s mouth watering against her will. Spite started to well up inside of her, surpassing her confusion and melancholy, and she desperately prayed to the sky that somehow Yoongi had screwed up the seasoning so she would have an excuse to not enjoy his food. Following Namjoon with a swish of his silvery tail, Y/N begrudgingly slunk further into the room. 
She caught sight of Taehyung first, seated at the breakfast nook by himself, adjusting settings on the camera strapped around his neck. His hair was wild and curly like he just washed it, a vibrant multicolored, vintage-looking sweater slipping over his wrists giving him sweater paws. Cooing, Y/N made a beeline for the Kodiak hybrid– trying with all her might to appear as unaffected as Yoongi took garlic bread out of the oven and shot the breeze with Jimin about the cold weather. Taehyung was a more than wonderful distraction.
“Hi, Tae,” Y/N scooched into the booth, having no trouble cozying up to his furnacelike side, his chest rumbling as he instinctively used one of his arms to hook around her shoulders and pull her closer. “Working on something for the next expo? It’s a week before Christmas, right?”
Smiling with his mouth closed, Taehyung let Y/N wiggle closer into his warmth, wordlessly passing his camera over and resting his nose in her hair as she took it gingerly. Being pressed up so closely against him, Y/N could feel his chest expand with the deep inhale he took, Y/N so used to him and Jimin taking a whiff of her hair daily that it didn’t even register as odd to her anymore. Turning on the camera’s display, Y/N flicked through a couple of Taehyung’s latest works, his editing more streamlined than ever before and each shot more creative than the next. The subjects were images of nature, primarily the backyard and around the neighborhood, but taken from unique angles and using natural light in interesting ways. 
“You’re getting so good at this, Tae. Pretty soon, you’ll have people asking to take wedding pictures for them!” Y/N passed his camera back to him, resisting the urge to totally curl into him or climb into his lap. He was just too cuddly. 
“Thank you,” Taehyung now offered her his toothy smile, wide and showing just how beautiful it made his face, conveying joy contrary to his ever-so-quiet voice. “I still need to work on taking portraits. That’s the assignment for next week…”
“Well it’s fortunate that you live with seven other people to practice on, huh?” Y/N teased, loving the flush that dusted his cheeks and tip of his nose. 
Their moment was interrupted by a black shadow, Y/N somewhat peeling herself off of Taehyung a tad to look up. It wasn’t a black shadow at all, however, it was just Jeongguk– dressed all in black, naturally, and with an enormous bowl of pasta and chicken in his hands. 
“How was your day, Jeongguk? The Tarantino movies you guys were watching… which one was your favorite?” Y/N reached across the table to poke the top of his hand with each word she was speaking to capture his attention, knowing that doing so usually irritated him enough to answer her questions. Since Halloween, though, he’d been much less easily perturbed, and usually regarded her attempts to agitate with amused midnight-black eyes. 
“Kill Bill. The first one, not the second. Pulp Fiction was good, but didn’t live up to all of that bullshit hype college kids drone on and on about,” Jeongguk playfully slapped her hand away from him so he could pick up a fork and start eating, a tiny wry grin pulling up the corners of his mouth. 
“I don’t think I really liked any of them,” a new voice joined the conversation, Seokjin filling up the last empty space in the booth beside Y/N, miraculously balancing three bowls of pasta on his forearm to deliver to Y/N and Taehyung. “Gory, lots of swearing and violence.”
“Grow some balls, Pink Panther,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, Y/N finding it extremely difficult not to laugh– he was quick on his feet to come up with that nickname, since Seokjin was wearing his favorite ballet-pink hoodie. “Why am I surprised? You could barely make it through an episode of Tokyo Ghoul, and that’s fuckin’ animated blood.”
“Oh, leave him be, Jeongguk. Action or gore isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s totally okay,” Y/N emphasized her point by using her slipper-clad foot to collide lightly with his shin under the booth, a free hand coming up to smooth over Seokjin’s back affectionately. “Also, it’s hard to take you seriously when you’re talking over a mouthful of half-chewed chicken.”
There was Seokjin’s squeaky-sounding laugh coming from her right, Jeongguk rolling his eyes again, taking a swig of whatever cocktail he had made for himself. Looking down at the food Yoongi made and Seokjin had brought to her, she felt her stomach turning. While it looked and smelled delicious, she didn’t want to give Yoongi the satisfaction of horking the whole plate down right away. Instead, she watched everyone in the booth tuck in promptly, Y/N glowering at her slab of garlic bread with feigned disinterest. 
“Not hungry?” Taehyung’s voice was in her ear, as always, low and indulgently rich. Concern lit up his eyes, his fork and knife paused mid-air as he studied the side of her face, even giving an animalistic sniff in her direction. 
“I had a big lunch,” Y/N admitted, even though that was a bit of a lie. She had been so nervous about her piano lesson with Yoongi earlier in the day, all she could choke down at lunchtime was a handful of baby carrots and hummus. 
Taehyung lifted a brow, definitely not buying the lie, but let it go without a word, mercifully. Y/N discovered that keeping her emotions under wraps from everybody while thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in her head constantly was more challenging than anything she had dealt with before. 
Yoongi’s words kept echoing like a pagan chant in her ears: ‘I know how you feel. About us, all of us’. Was Yoongi that keen, already able to intimately decipher her emotions and feelings through scent alone, or was she painfully obvious about her embarrassingly large crushes on each hybrid she adopted? Flames licked her cheeks, and she afforded a look past Seokjin’s wide shoulders to Yoongi sitting beside Jimin at the island, his back to her. Even now, Y/N could detect a whisper of tension threading through the lean muscles of his back through his shirt, and though she was puzzled– at best– by everything that went down between them in the last few hours, she was pleased to see how much he had filled out with muscle between consistent meals and his basketball practices. 
Sighing lightly, Y/N picked her way through her meal once tearing her eyes from Yoongi, not wanting to attract more attention by not eating dinner. Besides, her stomach was beginning to make embarrassing rumbling sounds, earning an annoyed side-eye from Namjoon across the room, pointedly using the tip of his nose to gesture towards her untouched plate. She resisted the split-second impulse to stick her tongue out at him, reconsidering upon remembering how intimidating Namjoon could be when teased. 
Throughout dinner, Y/N distracted herself from her thoughts and the lack of typical banter she’d have with Yoongi by cozying up to Seokjin and Taehyung; asking them about their preferences for birthday meals during fast-approaching December. Jeongguk asked her if she happened to celebrate Christmas– she replied yes; while her and her mother celebrated the pagan holiday of Yule, her father was more of a traditionalist and loved Christmas. 
“Yule lasts several days, and is made up of just some quiet rituals and whatnot– burning a Yule log, for example. But my dad adores all of the fun traditions of Christmas he had growing up, so he wanted to share that with me, too. We’d deck out the house in all of the lights, bake a thousand Christmas cookies, go out every year to pick out a tree… watch holiday movies in corny matching pajamas. My mom called it ‘Commercial Christmas’, but it was always really fun, and she was just poking fun at how silly my dad can get with it,” Y/N explained to the elk hybrid, him nodding along to her words while pushing broccoli around on his plate. “Oh! And there’s a Holiday Market in the city, too, if you guys are interested in checking that out next month. Food, decorations, music, all of that.”
It dawned on Y/N that her hybrids had likely never celebrated Christmas in the way she had in her youth. She had similar thoughts before, based on each of their strange, varied behaviors during the last three birthdays and Halloween, as well. It had her lower lip jutting out slightly, and she knew that perhaps the reason she worked so hard to make these events extra special in the past few months was because she was making up for their lost years of merriment and celebration of milestones. 
Dwelling on that, she totally zoned out at the breakfast nook, only coming to when Seokjin collected her near-empty plate from her, snapping back to reality when he stood and her hand slipped from the middle of his back, where she was absently rubbing circles into the cozy material of his hoodie. All the jaguar hybrid did was flash her a sweet smile, bringing the dishes to the sink with a purr. 
Shaking off her nerves, Y/N also rose from her seat, taking Taehyung with her so she’d have an excuse to cling to someone (and avoid Yoongi), by pulling him by the loose sleeve of his sweater, the Kodiak hybrid happily being hauled away from his camera and half-drunk glass of wine. Taehyung was one of the hybrids that didn’t drink as much as the others, or even Y/N herself, so sometimes a half of a glass of wine was all he needed for a pretty flush to color his cheeks and his tongue to loosen. 
“What are we watching tonight, Y/N? Nothing scary, I pray?” Y/N managed to scoop Jimin up in her grasp, as well, his expression filled with trepidation as she sandwiched herself between the two hybrids and dragged them into the parlor. 
The fire was roaring, and Taehyung broke free from her hold on his sweater to add another log to the tall flames in the fireplace– he was very serious about keeping it going strong until everyone headed off to bed, like it was an unspoken household duty he felt responsible for completely. Thankfully, he was quick to return to her, eager to claim one of the spots on either of her sides before anyone else could. As Ben had joked about over the phone with her, the hybrids did almost claw at each other in order to get a seat next to her on the couch, even Jeongguk, at that point. With Jimin and Taehyung being the ‘lucky’ ones that night, Y/N didn’t have to worry about sitting awkwardly inches away from Yoongi. 
“No, sweet pea, nothing scary. Just for you and Hoseok, though… on second thought, Seokjinnie, too. I’ll save the horror marathons for another time. I was thinking we could watch something funny?” 
Jimin’s shoulders relaxed downwards several inches, and his ears perked back up to their natural position as he handed her the remote, soothed that she wasn’t about to repeat her surprise showing of Suspiria from last month. Hoseok had to leave the room during the last few scenes of that one, in fact. 
Y/N scrolled through the options in her digital library, avoiding romcoms at all costs, landing on some random comedy with Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn. She needed something mindless, something that required not much critical thinking, so she could forget about the tangled cobwebs clogging up the cavity that once held her brain. 
The room slowly filled up with the rest of the hybrids, Hoseok tossing wrapped Klondike bars to everyone, Jeongguk taking up the recliner; Namjoon took his usual seat at Y/N’s feet, while Seokjin and Yoongi ended up sitting on the floor next to the couch. Yoongi minded his business, not even sending Y/N a glance as he sank to the floor with his glass of wine. Seokjin didn’t seem pleased that he was so far from Y/N, but knew that her rotating who she sat next to was in an effort to be fair– and he respected that. 
“I know how you feel. About us, all of us.”
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“Ben, can you just listen before you say ‘I told you so’?” Y/N stirred cream into her coffee, her lower eyelid twitching when she tasted the concoction on her tongue. Somehow, ever since Yoongi started making her coffee for her each morning, she couldn’t seem to make her favorite ratio quite as precise as he did– even though she had been making it perfectly fine years before he took up the task for her. “I’ll let you say it all you want after I get some of this off my chest.”
Saturday morning, Y/N met up with Ben in the city at their favorite brunch spot on Newbury street, leaving all of her hybrids at home for a lazy morning by themselves. It was rare these days that she’d carve out time to go out with her human friends without at least one of the boys tagging along with her, but miraculously, she was able to break free for a few hours to catch up– or vent– with Ben. Ben cocked an eyebrow at her, taking a measured sip of his mimosa.
“I can do that, but first–” Ben reached into his briefcase, rummaging around within the depths of the leather bag, boldly pulling out a nip of Kahlua and swiftly dumping it into Y/N’s coffee. “You look like you’re one inconvenience away from a nervous breakdown. Happy Saturday, have a drink.”
“Thanks,” Y/N grimaced, sucking down the entirety of the scalding, now spiked, coffee in one go, Ben waving his hand as if to say ‘don’t mention it’. “Christ, I don’t even know where to start…”
Y/N had spent the night tossing and turning, even after the stupid movie she watched with the hybrids and a few shots of gin, waking up with dark circles under her eyes and two hours of sleep under her belt. In those two hours, she had dreams of red curtains, whiskey-scented whispers, piano, and hazel, feline eyes. 
“I think I have an idea of where this is going,” Ben broke the ice after several moments, once the waiter came by to take their brunch orders and bring another round of drinks. This time, Y/N got herself a mimosa, too. “Let me guess. You fell for one of them.”
Y/N felt her stomach drop, the Kahlua, coffee, and champagne churning in her gut as Ben stared at her expectantly. Ben was always quick to pick up on how Y/N felt, particularly when it had to do with her romantic life, but it wasn’t like she was around him enough these days for him to observe her around all of her hybrids… fell for one? She had to laugh, and the sound came out snorted and pathetic. 
“Oh, it’s worse than I thought. More than one? Taking cues from those reverse-harem animes you used to love in high school, huh?” Ben pressed, his nose scrunching up upon hearing the braying donkey laugh Y/N was trying to cover up by chugging her mimosa, a swig of it going down her windpipe. 
“Nnn–ugh! Fuck me, Ben. Lower your voice,” Y/N coughed into her cloth napkin, frantically glancing around the restaurant as if she was being surveilled.
“Relax, Y/N, they’re not even here. They can’t hear you all the way from the Haunted Mansion, even with hybrid ears. Get on with it, spill. You’ll feel better,” Ben pushed a hand through his coiffed red hair, sucking his teeth as he assessed Y/N’s frazzled appearance and erratic behavior. She must have looked like a nutcase. 
“I… Stop looking at me like that! If you’re so smart, you must have pieced together everything already, so why bother?” Y/N accused, but when Ben simply hardened his cerulean gaze, Y/N knew that he was encouraging her to talk through her feelings rather than squirreling them away until she exploded. “Fine. Yeah, okay. I have a crush on them, all of them, as a matter of fact, if that’s even humanly possible… and I know what you’re thinking, I’m batshit, I’m gross, and I’ve put myself in a horrible scenario.”
“Y/N, will you just take a breath, please? We’ve been friends for over a decade. Nothing you say to me is going to scare me off or make me ‘shame’ you Cersei-Game-of-Thrones-style. So, you’re attracted to all seven of them? I mean seriously, Y/N, I can’t blame you, and if you called Laura or Alice, they wouldn’t either. They’re all gorgeous,” Ben leaned back in his seat, both seriousness and amusement dancing across his features. 
Y/N wrestled the champagne bottle resting in the tableside bucket of ice up and out of the shards, pouring herself another glass and completely ignoring the orange juice pitcher nearby that would make her mimosa, well, a mimosa. 
“You know, Y/N… humans and hybrids can be in romantic relationships, and before you fly off of the handle, let me finish! Listen, I know, you know, and your hybrids know that you didn’t adopt them to use-and-abuse, obviously. You’ve always been a romantic, Y/N, it’s not like you can control how you feel, especially when it comes to love.”
Processing this, Y/N gawked at Ben, suddenly unable to come up with any kind of retort. Their waiter came by with their food, and the smell of Y/N’s French toast made her utterly nauseous as soon as it was placed in front of her. Grimacing, she pushed the plate to the side, Ben smirking over a bite of crispy bacon. 
“Love…” Y/N squeaked, the four-letter-word wheezing from her chest painfully, Ben having the nerve to roll his eyes. 
“You do love them, don’t you? Besides the fact that it's obvious to me, as your wonderful best friend, when you fall, you fall hard,” Ben nudged Y/N’s plate back in front of her, sticking a fork in her hand with mischief in his eyes. “It’s a different kind of love– but I love Daisy, she’s my daughter, and I can’t imagine my life without her anymore. That must be similar to how you feel, no?” 
For at least a month, Y/N kept herself in blissful, complete denial, trying to squash down her feelings as best she could in an effort to keep them from the hybrids. She didn’t know if she was fooling them, because she definitely wasn’t fooling Ben, who looked like he was trying to refrain from laughing. The more she thought about her recent behavior; stuttering, blushing, heart racing, constant cuddling, the more stupid she felt. 
“God, I’m a moron,” Y/N stuffed a piece of French toast into her dried-out mouth, the consistency like glue as she chewed. “They probably already know and are just too nice to reject me. Or they’re scared to.”
Ben didn’t say anything, just letting Y/N come to terms with the startling realization: she loved them. Seven different men, she was in love with seven, and the gravity of that realization was driving her to silent lunacy.
“Whatever scenario you’re coming up with in your head, stop it, you’ll start panicking,” Ben reached across the table to grasp Y/N’s hand lightly, his thumb smoothing over the back of it. “It’s kind of a scary, tricky… uh, delicate, subject, but how would you feel about maybe just talking to them about it instead of bottling things up? Even at the cookout in August, I could tell most of them cared about you quite deeply.”
“Can you imagine that conversation, Ben? ‘Hey guys, I know we’re in the middle of dinner and it’s not like you can get away from me after this, but I accidentally fell in love with all of you, so that’s why I’ve been walking around like a bumbling idiot’,” Y/N hissed, her face going hot just by visualizing that scene in her head. “Also, I haven’t even told you what happened yesterday, and if a confession to the seven of them went anything like what went down last night, I’d have to move to a rock out in the middle of the sea.”
 Motioning for her to explain, Y/N launched into the long, complicated report on her interaction with Yoongi post piano lesson, speaking in a hurried and hushed tone. Ben listened carefully, but Y/N chose to leave out some of the more supernatural aspects of her first meeting with Yoongi in The Black Lodge– Ben was a skeptic, at best, so she told him she had gotten too drunk and forgot about meeting Yoongi. By the time she had ended her story with how Yoongi seemed to be acting like nothing happened, Ben’s eyebrows were knitted and their breakfasts had long since been polished off and forgotten. 
“Uh…” Ben leaned back in his seat after he was stunned speechless for several moments, robotically passing his credit card to the waiter, his free hand coming up to rub his close-cut beard. “You weren’t bullshitting me with that text last night. That’s a lot to unpack.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. He pretty much revealed to me that he knows I’m crushing on them all, totally called me out on it. Even went as far as saying it wouldn’t be long before the others figure it out, too,” Y/N moaned miserably into her hands, covering her face exhaustedly. 
“Y/N… from what you told me,” Ben started gently, as if he was trying not to spook a nervous animal. “I think Yoongi likes you too. I mean, he waited for a year for you to remember him, he said he enjoyed talking to you, and honey– he kissed you. You shouldn’t take that bit lightly, either. Predator hybrids like Yoongi, specifically the big cats or canines, are extremely selective when it comes to choosing their romantic partners. To them, it’s like finding their mate.”
“I– no. If that was the case, he would have told me, I’m sure of it. You’ve seen him, right? Met him? He’s gorgeous, funny, caring, can cook like a dream and is a talented pianist; he could have anybody he wants, and I’m not exempt from that, and he knows it… so that’s my reasoning, I guess.”
“Why are you spewing nonsense? You’re starting to tick me off. You were never this full of self doubt in the past, especially over a man. You have to talk to him about this, sooner rather than later. Tell him how you feel, and don’t beat around the bush. And even though I’m almost positive that he likes you romantically, you two need to sort it out before the others catch on and it spirals into something even more tangled,” Ben, as they prepared to leave the restaurant, helped Y/N shrug into her coat, his hands on her shoulders as he gave her a necessary reality check– though his expression was sympathetic and full of concern. “I’ll help you out. I can borrow a couple of your guys on Monday to watch Daisy while I go into the office, and you see if you can somehow get Yoongi alone, okay?”
“Monday…” Y/N blanched, not prepared to throw caution to the wind and admit her feelings that soon. “I-I guess I can make that work. Seokjin and Joonie will be at the library with my mom for the book club, Tae at the rec center preparing for his next expo…”
“Alright. I’ll take the other three for babysitting– the cowboy, the grump, and Foxy, am I correct?” Ben attempted to lighten the mood, holding the restaurant door open for Y/N with a wry grin. “You can do this, Y/N. You’re a smart, beautiful young woman, and I know how much you love those boys. They all deserve to know how much you do– but start with Yoongi.”
Y/N made a noncommittal, grumbling noise, grinding her teeth as the bitter wind whipped through the streets of Boston. Autumn was nearly over, and the harsh winter was well on its way, Christmas decorations already beginning to pop up on certain storefronts. 
“If it goes to shit, I’m calling you. You know how I am with romantic confessions. Remember Liam in high school? I broke out in hives asking him to homecoming,” Y/N muttered, grabbing Ben’s hand and shoving their joined palms into his coat pocket, her best friend snickering at the memory. “Can we change the subject? I’m starting to feel itchy. You can still swing by Copley with me, right?”
“Yeah, I have some time. What are you going there for?” Ben steered her in a different direction than they were going, cutting through some side streets to get to the mall. 
“I’m picking up some things for Seokjin’s birthday, it’s coming up really soon. I found some cookware online I think he’d like, he’s been into culinary pursuits recently,” Y/N felt some of her anxiety dissipate as she thought about sweet Seokjin. He had pouted that morning when she left to meet Ben, and it was hard to pry him off of her as she was heading out the front door. 
“Oh! That reminds me. Has Sarah gotten in touch with you?” 
“She did, actually. We’re planning to meet at some point after the holidays, probably in January. I don’t know if I should tell Seokjin, or keep it a surprise for a little while…” Y/N bit her lip, recalling the pleasant email exchanges she had with the woman who had adopted Hannah. 
“With everything you’ve got going on right now, I think it’s alright to hold off on telling him until the plan is more concrete. Focus on the two birthdays you have coming up, Christmas, and sorting out the thing with Yoongi,” Ben shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s fingers as they ambled down the frosty sidewalk. 
“Shit. I have to order Christmas presents soon…” Y/N used her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, thanking the sky that she had that extra income from the boarded horses– gifts for seven hybrids and her other friends and family would certainly add up cost-wise. “I wish I had an assistant to keep track of everything I have to do.”
“Ah, you say that, but I haven’t seen you this happy in years, Y/N,” Ben countered, winking at her. “Even with all of the romantic drama, adopting those boys brought you back to life.”
“Stop being sappy, I’ll cry. Seriously, I will! They’re not around to fuss over me right now and I can do so freely, and that’s an opportunity I would take if you keep it up,” Y/N nudged Ben in the ribs, separating from him as they reached the revolving doors of Copley Place. 
Once in the toasty mall, she and Ben changed the direction of their conversation, Y/N feeling merry despite the looming task of confronting Yoongi in two day’s time. They made plans to have a holiday get-together at her house, with Roy and Daisy, and the Santos twins as well, all while piling items into a cart for Seokjin’s birthday. 
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“Come on, sweets, won’t you do it for me?” Y/N was perched on the velvet bench at the foot of Jeongguk’s bed, attempting to convince him to go willingly to Ben’s for ‘babysitting’ early Monday afternoon. She tried to make her eyes as doelike as possible, Jeongguk chewing on his lip ring with his arms crossed, staring down at her. 
“That pouting doesn’t work on me. Go find literally anyone else in the house it does work on, Y/N,” Jeongguk tsked, pulling a few buttons loose on the creamy button-down he was wearing. 
“Okay, shithead. You want to be sassy today? Be my guest. Just saying though, Daisy has been asking for you. Ben says you’re one of her favorites,” Y/N bit back, just to see if guilting him was the way to go. Jeongguk simply shook his head, having the audacity to look amused by her outburst. She was already on edge, and his nonchalance and stubbornness did not make things better. “Maybe this will sweeten the pot. Ben said he was going to pay you guys.”
“Bribery, coercion, ass-kissing… you must really want me out of the house today,” Jeongguk drawled, turning away from Y/N as he used his floor-length mirror to clasp the necklace her mother gave him for his birthday around his neck. Through the thin material of his light-colored shirt, Y/N could faintly detect the black lines of the mystery tattoo on his back. 
“No, but it wouldn’t kill you, Jeongguk. Don’t you want to get out for a little bit? You, Hoseok, and Jimin can take Daisy to the playground in the Common, get some food, walk around…” Y/N refrained from flinching when the elk hybrid accurately called her out for shooing him out. 
“How the fuck can we go out without a human with us? Won’t the four of us get scooped up by agents and tossed back into Gerry’s shithole shelter? Besides, why does a four-year-old hybrid need three babysitters, aren’t Foxy and Blondie enough?” Jeongguk approached Y/N once more, using his thumb and forefinger to gently flick her forehead. 
“Ugh, you’re such a little shit,” Y/N rubbed the spot he flicked, even though it didn’t hurt at all. “I ordered you all ID’s, remember? They arrived this morning. If you get stopped, you show agents your ID, and it tells them that you’re adopted and can roam even without me being present. Daisy has one too, the version for children… She needed it for enrollment in her daycare.”
Jeongguk paused in contemplation, his eyes scanning her face thoughtfully as she squirmed on the bench under his scrutiny, one of his ears lazily twitching. It was a stare-down, Y/N needed to have that talk with Yoongi, and she wanted the conversation to be as private as possible, and Jeongguk seemed a touch suspicious. 
“You really want me to go babysit the bunny that badly?” Jeongguk narrowed his eyes, a spark of triumph lighting up inside of Y/N as she sensed him beginning to cave. 
“Yes, please! I’ll call in some baked ziti for you from Sal’s for dinner,” Y/N jumped to her feet, Jeongguk rolling his eyes and sticking his notebook into the pocket of his baggy black cargo pants. 
“Yeah, yeah. You’re only saying that because I’m doing you a favor, and you probably want pizza yourself, kiddo,” Jeongguk grunted as Y/N elbowed him in the ribs, scoffing at him indignantly. 
“I’m only like a year younger than you. ‘Kiddo’, really?” Y/N paused by his bedroom door, softening up once seeing the twinkle of merriment in Jeongguk’s dark eyes. 
Suddenly overwhelmed with affection for the elk hybrid, considering how much he had warmed up to her over the past few weeks, she leaned up on her tip-toes, lips brushing over his sharp cheekbone for a barely-there kiss while he froze to a complete stand-still. Pulling away as quickly as she could before he could say anything, she giggled at how round his eyes became before heading out to the hall. 
“Thanks for the favor, sweets. Ben will be here in 15 minutes to pick you and the other two up!” She called over her shoulder, hurrying away with the image of Jeongguk looking adorably stunned burned into her retinas. 
Bounding downstairs, Y/N managed to round up Jimin and Hoseok from the backyard, both of them more than willing to watch Daisy for a bit– the both of them practically doted on her. She handed out their new-and-shiny ID’s, Y/N smiling at the pictures on the cards. Staring at Jeongguk’s picture, with a serious expression on his face, she snorted at the way his antlers didn’t quite fit in the frame. 
“Tae did a nice job with all of your photos for these, huh?” Y/N gushed, brushing her fingertips over the tiny picture on Namjoon’s ID, which she’d have to give to him later. “Next time I get my license renewed, I want him to take my picture too, I always look washed out and horrendous in the ones taken at the DMV.”
“I doubt that, Y/N. You always look nice in pictures, even the ones Taehyung takes of you,” Jimin disagreed with her, grinning when she pinched his fleshy cheek bashfully. 
“Such a charmer, Jiminie. Aw, her heart’s racing,” Hoseok crooned, squeezing himself in between her and the coyote hybrid, a wicked smirk on his face as he patted his chest to mimic heartbeats.
Hissing, Y/N tried to step away from the teasing bastard, even more humiliated now, but Hoseok was far too quick for her to make a feeble human’s attempt at escape. Boldly, he grabbed her by the belt loops of her jeans, bending low to press one of his ears over her heart. Squeaking as she wiggled in his grasp, a few of his fingertips slipping into the waistband of her jeans to keep her in place, his skin burning hot with hybrid heat. 
“Hear that, Jiminie? It’s beating even faster now!” Hoseok continued gleefully, squeezing the flesh over her hip bones before he– mercifully– pulled away. “How cute, darling, you’re way too easy to flatter, and even easier to tease.”
“Hoseok,” Y/N used all of her strength to prevent herself from melting into the floorboards, not even noticing that Jimin’s shoulders were shaking with laughter and Jeongguk had crept into the foyer during the spectacle. “Stop fucking with me, the playing field isn’t even. I can’t hear your heartbeat, or smell your embarrassment, or whatever.”
“You could always try flattery, you have a knack for it,” Jeongguk leaned against the front door, seemingly recovered from the smooch she planted on his cheek only moments ago. 
“Brat,” Y/N sneered, though it was half hearted, and she was interrupted by a three-beat honk from outside. “Ooh, Ben’s here. Okay, I think you two have poked enough fun at me, get going. See you soon, sweetheart, have fun and be safe.”
Y/N murmured her last statement directly to Jimin, using a hand to shove Hoseok towards Jeongguk and out of the front door. Patting Jimin’s shoulder lightly, she leaned up to whisper into his ear. 
“You’re in charge, make sure those two don’t swear in front of Daisy, please,” though Y/N was whispering in Jimin’s ear, she was the one shivering with the proximity, intoxicating, dark lavender filling her senses and calming her steadily-climbing anxiety; it was almost time for her to look for Yoongi, who she hadn’t seen the entire day. 
“See you later, Y/N,” Jimin grinned like he knew something she didn’t, craning his neck sideways to press a kiss to one of her knuckles, her hand turning clammy as it slipped from his shoulder when he strolled out the front door. 
Y/N stood in the threshold of the door, watching the three hybrids get into Ben’s car, and stayed until Ben drove off down the street. The silence that followed their departure was eerie, Y/N wondering if Yoongi was taking a nap or was even in the house at all. Typically, during the early afternoon, the leopard hybrid would be messing around on the piano or reading a book in the parlor, but there was no music coming from upstairs and the heavily trafficked parlor was deserted and dark. Sighing, Y/N started to stack logs into the fireplace, knowing if Taehyung came home later and there was no fire, he’d be upset. She knew that she was stalling the inevitable, finding Yoongi and having the conversation she had been dreading for 48 hours, but she tried to summon courage to face him from the growing flames in the fireplace. 
Once she had mustered enough nerve, Y/N wandered through the house to find Yoongi. She searched every nook and cranny, every back hallway and hidden passageway, but clearly he wasn’t inside. Muttering under her breath, she dropped some clean laundry off in Namjoon’s room, pulling on the sherpa-lined jean jacket he had draped over his desk chair to prepare herself for traipsing around the yard. Inhaling Namjoon’s scent on the collar of his jacket, the oversized fabric swallowing her whole, she felt warmth fill her up with the notes of honey and Namjoon. 
“Fuck, it’s cold,” Y/N whimpered as soon as she opened the slider to the backyard, wrapping Namjoon’s coat more tightly around her torso. In the distance, horses were whinnying in the stable, and there were some creepy looking turkey vultures sitting in the naked oak tree next to the picnic table. “Where’s my angel…”
The sky was a gloomy gray, and Y/N wondered if snow was on the way with the way the frost-dusted grass was crunching under her feet. That quiet, still sensation just before a snowstorm was present, as well, which is why the echoing sound of a basketball striking asphalt made her jolt in surprise. Bingo. 
Weaving her way past the gate to the driveway and garage, Y/N let out a nervous breath, becoming a misty cloud of white in front of her. The turkey vultures in the oak tree started making their disturbing, guttural shrieks, sending a chill down her spine. Quickening her pace, butterflies started fluttering in her stomach as the basketball hoop came into view. 
Aware that Yoongi could both hear and smell her, she paused several feet away, eyes sweeping the area for the leopard hybrid. He was just there, she was sure of it, but he was nowhere in sight. 
“Yoongi? Where are you?” Y/N called, annoyed with the possibility that he was avoiding her on purpose. She knelt down, numb fingers grasping the acid-washed hoodie Yoongi must have tossed onto the ground, when a pair of sneakers appeared in her line of vision, she glanced up at the owner, swearing colorfully. 
Yoongi was staring down at her, basketball tucked under his arm, very sweaty and very much without a shirt. Mouth drying up, she felt a range of emotions flood through her; fluster, affection, happiness, concern, before finally landing on anger. 
“Oh my god, it’s like thirty degrees out here! Put this on,” Y/N impulsively threw his sweatshirt at him, hitting him square in the chest before it unceremoniously fell back onto the pavement. 
“I was too hot. Hybrid body heat, silly girl,” Yoongi replied simply, his old nickname for her making a comeback. Unfortunately for Y/N, paired with his damp, long hair and naked chest, it sent a bolt of arousal through her unexpectedly. Hopefully he couldn’t smell it. “What’s up? Where is everyone?”
Y/N read between the lines– that was Yoongi’s newest code for ‘find one of the others, I don’t want to talk to you’. Gritting her teeth, she managed to straighten up, forcing herself to look him in the eyes and not the dewy skin over his collarbones. 
“They’re all out. It’s just you and I, at the moment,” Y/N cleared her throat, getting a strong blast of vanilla-and-cloves as Yoongi passed a veiny hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Please, for my sake, put on the sweatshirt. I don’t want you turning into a popsicle.”
“Nah,” Yoongi turned away from her, dribbling the ball and aiming to shoot it into the basket, his tail curling around his leg as it usually did when he’d play. “Why, don’t like what you see?”
Y/N’s eyes glazed over as she watched the muscles in his back move and flex, effortlessly sinking the ball into the basket and elegantly slinking to the hoop to retrieve the ball before it could bounce away. The pale skin of his chest was slightly flushed pink, making Y/N’s mouth water, and all at once she felt like a creep. 
“Cat’s got your tongue?” Yoongi drawled, his gravelly voice raising goosebumps on her flesh. Apparently, her hybrids felt like toying with her that day. 
Steeling herself, she approached Yoongi with determination, forgetting all about his sweatshirt, his expression growing curious and spotted ears flattening against his head at their proximity.
“Are you avoiding me again? We never finished our… conversation,” Y/N began, chickening out on professing her love right away, considering his lack of a shirt. 
“You reek like the wolf,” Yoongi dodged the question and subject entirely, moving like he was going to take another shot at the hoop. Before he could get far, Y/N reached out and yanked the basketball out of his hands, scowling. 
“We need to talk, Yoongi. You’ve hardly been able to stand in the same room as me longer than five minutes since that night,” Y/N averted her eyes from his face, finding it hard to look at him with all the emotions running through her. 
Yoongi sighed, the sound of it seemingly coming from the depths of his soul, scooping his sweatshirt off of the ground and shrugging it on. 
“Let’s go inside. Seokjin would die if he saw you out here without a hat,” Yoongi mumbled, resigned, and motioned for Y/N to follow him into the house. 
They were quiet, Y/N’s pulse thundering in her ears, positively dreading the conversation they were about to have. If Yoongi rejected her, she’d have to lock herself in her room to cry and  lick her wounds for hours, but if he didn’t… how on earth would she explain the situation between her and Yoongi to the others?
“So, what is there to ‘finish’ about our conversation?” Yoongi broke the silence as he followed her up to the music room– the most soundproof room in the house, lest someone come home early and interrupt them. Yoongi sounded bitter, like the words on his tongue tasted of grave dirt, Y/N wincing knowing that she was the cause of it. “I thought we wrapped it up already. What’s the use of beating a dead horse? We met before, you forgot, we kissed, now we’re here. End of story.”
“No, Yoongi, it’s not. I–” Y/N cut herself off, sinking down onto the couch with her head in her hands. “Let me apologize, first. I don’t want you to think that our kiss was a drunken mistake to me. I shouldn’t have insinuated that. I’m sorry, angel.”
Yoongi stiffened, at either her words or her nickname for him, she didn’t know. He remained standing in front of her, ears perked up and alert, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. 
“I’m sorry I can’t remember. Believe me, I want to, more than anything. I’ve been having dreams, though, flashes of a memory. Maybe it will return to me, in time,” Y/N peeked at Yoongi through her fingertips, nervously chewing on her lip. 
“Y/N–” 
“Please, just, can you hear me out for a minute?” Y/N interrupted whatever warning he was undoubtedly trying to dole out, desperate to get it over with before she lost her nerve. “Last time we talked about this, you said you knew how I felt, about you, about the others, but I changed the subject.”
Yoongi nodded, his eyes narrowing and arms crossing over his chest, waiting for her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Y/N dropped her hands from her face, finally making eye-contact with the leopard hybrid, who appeared to be taking in all of her micro reactions. 
“You were right, or are right, about my feelings. I’m only starting to, um, understand those feelings, but you noticed them before I even realized they were there,” Y/N fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, growing hot in the face. “I’m sorry for hiding it, and I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Met with silence, Y/N’s worst fear was coming to life; he was going to reject her, their relationship would be permanently damaged, and her heart was going to shatter. Yoongi simply stared at her with that sharp feline gaze, a muscle in his jaw working and his expression giving away nothing as two what he was thinking. 
“I don’t want to lie to you anymore, and it’s totally fine that you don’t feel the same way, but I need to tell you,” Y/N’s voice became shaky, heart feeling like it was going to explode, ready to careen off the edge of no return. “I love you, Yoongi.”
The world went still, not even the birds outside chirping, and Y/N wasn’t confident that she was breathing anymore. Without a word, Yoongi turned on his heel, plopped down on the bench and slid a hand over the weathered keys of the piano. Baffled and heartbroken, Y/N sat frozen on the couch, stiff as a board and head spinning. 
Before her vision could go black, Yoongi began to play. Eyes snapping open, she couldn’t help the gasp that ripped from her chest; Yoongi was playing the song he had composed, the one he previously wouldn’t perform for her even upon her countless requests to. Though his face was blank of emotion, his playing certainly wasn’t, and the song almost breathed air as his hands floated across the keys. It was one of the most beautiful songs she had ever heard, so much so that she wasn’t even aware that she was crying until she felt the hot tears tracking down her cheeks. 
It was over too soon, the final note ringing out solemnly, Yoongi standing from the bench and heading towards the door, his ears flat against his head again. He stopped, hand twitching over the doorknob when he heard Y/N sniffle pathetically, looking over his shoulder. Heart bursting into smithereens at the look of anguish on his face, Y/N wanted to rush over to him, but couldn’t bear looking at him any longer. 
“I wrote that the day after we met. The first thing I composed in years. I wrote it for you.”
With that, Yoongi left the room, Y/N feeling her tears run down her neck, listening to the sound of him closing the door to his bedroom and turning on the tap to his shower. 
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“So Y/N, it wasn’t exactly a rejection,” Laura soothed through the phone, Y/N humming noncommittally. She was in her car in the driveway, several days later, Seokjin’s birthday, his birthday cake sitting on the passenger seat beside her. 
“I don’t know what the fuck it was. He’s been walking around the house like a fucking ghost for days now, I think I broke him,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair, not believing that she had to resort to taking phone calls in her car to avoid eavesdropping. “I set out to see if I could fix things, or tell him my feelings, but now everything is even more messed up. I don’t know what to do.”
“Give him time, honey. He shouldn’t be leaving you hanging like that, but maybe it’s a lot to process for him. Your hybrids have been through a lot, he probably wasn’t expecting you to confront him,” Laura theorized, making Y/N snort. She had just accepted that Yoongi had been weirded out and didn’t reciprocate her feelings, but she humored Laura anyway. 
“Yeah, I know. I’ll keep you updated, I guess,” Y/N replied airily, eyes landing on the pink buttercream frosting spelling out Seokjin’s name on his cake, a small smile spreading across her face despite everything. “I gotta run, Laura. Have to round everyone up for Seokjin’s brunch.”
“Keep me updated!” Laura exclaimed urgently, Y/N grunting in response, before hanging up and hauling herself outside. She moved Seokjin’s cake to the trunk where his gifts were, making room for him to sit next to her during the ride to the restaurant. 
Y/N: Time to go! Reservation is at noon &lt;3
Hoseok 🦊: Jinnie looks so handsome on his birthday 🤧
Seokjinnie 🌸: -_-
Jimin 🦋: We’re coming!
Y/N: Can one of you please lock the door on the way out
Joonie 🐺: I got it.
Making sure the heat was cranked up in the cab for Seokjin, she watched the front door like a hawk, waiting for everyone to file out. They came out in pairs, first Jimin and Taehyung, then Hoseok and Seokjin. Last out was Jeongguk and Yoongi, followed by Namjoon diligently locking the door and even giving the handle a jiggle to ensure it was deadbolted. Feeling warm all over at the sight of them, all dressed up in their unique styles, Y/N grinned, even though her heart was still bleeding for Yoongi. She pushed that aside, for now, for Seokjin, determined to give him the best birthday ever. 
“It’s so cold! Fuckin’ Boston weather,” Hoseok whined, the first one to the car, sliding in the seat behind Y/N. “Would moving to Florida ever be an option?” 
“Hell no,” Y/N twisted her face up in disgust even thinking about swampy Florida summers. “We can visit someday, though. Go to Disney World or something.”
“Where are your gloves?” Seokjin climbed into the passenger seat, Namjoon begrudgingly giving up his designated spot for the birthday boy, pointedly narrowing his orange eyes at her bare hands on the steering wheel. 
“Oh, somewhere in the house. I don’t need them, we’re going from the car to the restaurant,” Y/N blushed when he took her hands in his, his thick lips puckering to blow warm air onto them. “Happy birthday, my Seokjinnie!”
“You’re old as fuck,” Jeongguk commented from the third row of seats, his hair slicked back with gel as Y/N glared at him in the rearview mirror. “30? Judas priest.”
“Have some respect for your elders, fuckface,” Hoseok defended Seokjin, a lazy smile on his face when Y/N turned around to back out of her spot in front of the house. 
“Please, stop swearing,” Jimin pinched the bridge of his nose delicately, making Y/N snort. 
She drove one-handed to the restaurant, one of them captured by Seokjin, who was doing the thing where he lightly traced his fingertips over her skin in endless patterns. He was purring, too, Y/N stealing glances of him every once in a while– Hoseok was right, he looked unbearably handsome. Shiny, wavy raven hair, a cozy plum-colored sweater, and his expression content and relaxed. 
When they arrived, Y/N had Namjoon and Taehyung help her bring in the cake and the gifts, never letting go of Seokjin’s hand once. She shouldn’t have noticed, but she did, that Yoongi was keeping a lot of space between them, sitting the furthest away from her at the table and silently reading the menu while everyone else chatted. If the other hybrids had noticed his odd behavior the past few days, they were very good at pretending they didn’t. 
Shaking her head, she put all of her attention on Seokjin, who still hadn’t released her hand. He wiggled in his seat happily, tail curling around her lower back, scooching his chair closer to Y/N. 
“What are you going to get?” Y/N leaned her cheek on Seokjin’s shoulder, reading his menu instead of her own. With a purr, Seokjin pointed out a few items, his teeth digging into his lower lip. “Ooh, that sounds yummy! Eggs benedict?”
They ended up ordering an obscene amount of food, Y/N passing on the mimosas so she could drive home uncompromised, but ordered a round for all of the hybrids. 
“So, how’s the book of the week so far?” Y/N asked Seokjin, who was taking a dainty sip of his mimosa. “A Christmas Carol, right?”
“Mm-hm. It’s a little early for Christmas stories in my opinion, though,” Seokjin cocked his head, a contemplative look on his face. “Have you been sleeping okay lately, Y/N?”
Seokjin was too kind to not point out the very obvious dark circles under her eyes, but she knew that was why he asked. Truthfully, she was lucky if she got three hours of sleep every night since she told Yoongi she loved him, but she couldn’t admit that to Seokjin. The last thing she wanted was to concern him on his birthday. 
“Yeah, I’ve just been having strange dreams that sometimes wake me up. I’m perfectly fine, though, honey,” Y/N attempted to soothe, Seokjin nodding and taking another swig of his mimosa. 
Thankfully, before he could pry, food arrived, and Y/N busied herself by stuffing her face so she didn’t have to talk. 
“This is the first time I’ve ever celebrated my birthday,” Seokjin admitted quietly, the food in front of him untouched as he seemingly soaked everything in. Chest squeezing, Y/N snaked an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his sweater. 
“Good thing you’ll have plenty more to celebrate each year, to make up for that,” she replied equally as soft, Seokjin’s eyes softening as he returned a kiss to her– his lips stamping affection on the crown of her head. 
Flushing, she caught Yoongi’s eyes across the table, that same blank look on his face from when he played the song for her days ago. Her song. Hurriedly looking back down at her food, she stuffed the emotion welling up inside her deep down. 
“Try this,” Seokjin interrupted her attempt to not wallow, a fork with a perfect bite of eggs benedict on it appearing in front of her face. 
Automatically, she opened her mouth like it was second nature; Seokjin often liked to feed her bites of his food like that, and she was never one to deny him. His lips twisted up into a smug smirk, using his free hand to cup her jaw like always, angling her face upwards so he could feed her the bite of his entree. She felt eyes on her from the whole table, but she couldn’t have cared less, locked in on the way Seokjin’s gaze was fixed on her mouth. 
“How is it?” Seokjin asked through his shit-eating grin, his touch vanishing but his tail still curled around her waist. 
“Mmm,” was all Y/N could articulate, swallowing slowly and unable to break free from his spell. 
“Spoiled,” Seokjin murmured, tutting. Heart falling to her ass, she gawked at his gorgeous side profile with utter disbelief, ears turning hot with humiliation and something else. 
“H-huh?” She squeaked, though the jaguar hybrid simply resumed eating, striking up a conversation with Hoseok a couple of seats down, still smirking. 
Reeling, Y/N managed to choke down the remainder of her meal, only snapping out of it when the waitresses came by with Seokjin’s cake, lit up with sparkler candles. Amazingly, Seokjin didn’t even flinch when the cake was placed in front of him, despite his usual aversion to things that were on fire or noisy, his cheeks rounding out as he read the top of his cake and blew out the candles. Hoseok sang a rather off-key version of “Happy Birthday” with the waitresses, and Y/N noticed that Taehyung had brought his camera with him, furiously taking pictures with flash of the entire event. 
“You got the lavender cake!” Seokjin exclaimed while Y/N was cutting a slice for him, pink frosting covering the pale purple sponge; a very Seokjin color scheme. 
“I did! You said you liked it a few months ago, I hope you still do,” Y/N pushed the plate in front of him, wondering if she should have a slice herself, considering how stuffed she was from all of the food Seokjin had just fed her. 
This time, Seokjin was the one blushing, mouth full of cake. Chuckling, she ruffled his hair, sliding plate after plate of cake down the table for each of the hybrids, astonished that they still had room in their tummies. 
“Okay, so what did you get Jinnie for his birthday? Did you snag him an audition on Masterchef?” Hoseok asked, frosting coating his lips. 
“Oh! Joonie, can you pass me those bags?” Y/N exclaimed, Namjoon getting up from his booth seat to deliver the three gifts at the head of the table, his damaged ear flickering when she called his name. 
Seokjin, who wasn’t quite as shy as he was when she first met him, accepted the first gift bag with pink ears despite all of his opening up. The whole table– apart from Yoongi, who excused himself to the bathroom minutes prior– watched Seokjin peer into the bag with rapt interest. 
The first gift was from her mother, a lovely vintage watch that Y/N had helped her pick out at a pawn shop recently. When she spotted it in the shop, it had Seokjin written all over it; elegant and classic, and went well with his polished wardrobe. Hoseok oohed and aahed, reaching across the table to strap it on Seokjin’s left wrist for him. Giggling, Y/N admired the way it looked on his slim wrist, leaning against his arm while he went for the other two gifts; several sweaters and shirts in various shades of pinks and neutrals, a pretty set of silver dangling earrings (Y/N noticed that he had two lobe piercings on his left ear, but didn’t have any earrings to put through them), and a set of brand-new Japanese knives. He loved every single gift, gushing over the knives in particular, but he had to slap Hoseok’s hand away when the fox hybrid attempted to put the earrings on Seokjin. 
Once the cake was eaten and plates were cleared away, Jeongguk and Namjoon both began to grow antsy, probably hoping to leave soon and get back to their routines. She handed her car keys to Taehyung beside her so he could pull the car around– he was the only one Y/N was confident that he knew how to drive, and Namjoon was known to speed– everyone following the Kodiak hybrid outside. Yoongi had long since returned from the bathroom, but once he saw that it was just Seokjin and Y/N waiting at the table to pay the bill, he too went out to the car. 
“Thank you, Y/N. Today was…” Seokjin trailed off, like he was at a loss for words. They were standing by the bar, waiting for his leftover cake to be boxed up, Seokjin straightening out Y/N’s coat and making sure it was clasped correctly. “Perfect.”
“My Seokjinnie,” Y/N cooed, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in chest. She felt him purring, his own arms coiling around her back, rubbing circles over her coat. “I have one more thing for you.”
Pulling away, she chuckled at the look of bewilderment lighting up his features, Y/N reaching into the pocket of her coat for an envelope, offering it to him with a wink. Carefully, Seokjin tore the envelope open, fishing out the two pieces of paper from within and turning them over. His eyes scanned the text, his pupils blowing out wide and mouth dropping open once he registered exactly what he was holding.
“A cooking class,” Seokjin breathed, cheeks turning bright pink. “At Eataly?”
“Yeah! I heard the classes there are awesome, and in that class you get to have wine pairings with whatever you cook, you learn about the regions in Italy where the dishes come from. You’ve been so into cooking lately, and I thought the class would be perfect for you, especially with the wine pairing aspect,” Y/N explained, Seokjin hanging on every word and reading the tickets over and over. “It’s in February. I got two tickets, so you can take whoever you like. Hoseok, Yoongi, Joonie, it’s your choice!”
Seokjin froze, a curious look in his eyes, tucking the tickets back into the envelope and reaching for Y/N’s hand again. 
“You don’t wanna come with me?” Seokjin squeezed her hand, a frown on his face for the first time that day. Blinking, Y/N made a noise of surprise. 
“Me? You want me to take the class with you?” Y/N asked stupidly, Seokjin furiously nodding and his ears perking up. 
“I don’t want to take it with anyone but you,” Seokjin confirmed resolutely, taking his cake box from a waitress ogling him without so much of a glance in her direction. Heart soaring upon hearing those words, Y/N couldn’t help but give him another tight hug. 
“Okay, I’ll go with you. Can’t wait,” Y/N agreed, mouth full of his felt coat. 
Seokjin just grinned brilliantly, leaving her embrace, tugging her towards the door, where her Land Cruiser was double-parked with the rest of the hybrids. 
“Let’s go home,” Seokjin held the door to the restaurant open for her, uttering the statement like it had great meaning to him. 
Even though she shouldn’t have, she let Taehyung drive home, Yoongi sitting beside him, while Y/N squeezed into the backseat between Namjoon and Seokjin. It was halfway back to the house when she realized Taehyung wasn’t using GPS; he knew where home was by memory, or perhaps by heart. 
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“It’s just a piano lesson, just act natural, like nothing’s wrong,” Y/N glared at herself in her bathroom mirror, pinching her own cheeks to bring life back into her complexion. “Just act like you aren’t in love with the teacher.”
Groaning, Y/N switched off the bathroom light, feeling a touch ill. She had barely spoken more than a handful of words to Yoongi in over a week, nerves still too raw. Last week, she skipped her lesson, not even bringing it up to the leopard hybrid, and spent much of that Friday out in the stable with Jimin taking care of the animals. That week, however, she ironically decided to face the music and resume with the lessons, an attempt to grasp a sense of normalcy between her and Yoongi. 
Y/N paused before she left her bedroom, shooting her crumpled sheets a dirty look. Sleep still evaded her, and her dreams had been getting more and more vivid and taunting, the locked memory of her first meeting with Yoongi driving her insane even while unconscious. Growling, she left her room, taking a peek into Namjoon’s bedroom to find it empty, disappointment flooding through her. He must have been in his trailer, where he and Jeongguk had been hanging out recently like a pair of Ghostbusters.
She could hear a movie going on in the parlor, but she didn’t stop by to see what was on or who was watching, not wanting to drag her feet any longer. Y/N knew that Yoongi wasn’t there; he spent most of his time those days in the music room with the doors shut. Poor Taehyung couldn’t even use the record player all week. 
Crawling up the stairs, once she reached the room at the end of the hall, she knocked on the closed doors. Of course, he knew that it was her, but there was still a chance that he wouldn’t open up. As the door opened, her heart throbbed at the sight of him– similarly tired looking, just like her. Yoongi stepped aside, letting her into the room, before promptly shutting the both of them into the silent room. 
The room was a mess, sheet music strewn everywhere, a throw blanket tossed messily over the loveseat, several dirty mugs on the coffee table. She half-turned, too grief-stricken to face him fully, she gestured around the room. 
“Have you been sleeping in here?” Y/N managed, picking a crumpled piece of sheet music off of the ground, instantly recognizing the writing on the paper to be in Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi ran a hand over his face, his clothing all wrinkled and pen ink covering his fingers. “Um, I guess as long as it’s comfortable…”
“What do you want?” Yoongi asked softly, Y/N flinching at the question like she was burned with a fire poker. 
“I just wanted to ask… If we could have a lesson? If you still want to teach me? I understand if you don’t,” Y/N felt her throat grow sore from trying to keep down tears, feeling like a giant crybaby. 
Yoongi grunted, trudging over to the piano, pushing sheet music off of the bench and sitting down. 
“Come,” Yoongi patted the bench, avoiding her eyes, tail wrapping around his waist snugly. 
Y/N’s legs moved on their own accord, perching on the edge of the bench as far away from him as she could accomplish, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by touching him. Scanning the sheet music in front of her, already able to read it pretty well thanks to his vigorous teaching style, she heard the notes in her head as her eyes roamed over the notes. 
“Is this…?” Y/N timidly pointed to the paper, unable to look at him whatsoever. This was a terrible mistake. 
“It’s your song,” Yoongi gruffly admitted, his voice coming out strained. “I can teach you.”
Nodding, she was surprised she was able to keep the waterworks at bay, Yoongi launching into his lesson patiently. Y/N was leagues better and playing than she was months ago, so Yoongi hardly had to correct her or fix her hand placements, but the air in the room was suffocating her. Being so close to him, so close yet emotionally miles apart, had the queasy feeling in her gut growing by the second. 
She made it halfway through the song, but the more complicated section of the piece was starting to trip her up. Fumbling through the same measure four times in a row, she huffed in annoyance, considering throwing in the towel for the night. 
“No, try again. Like this,” Yoongi snapped her out of her self-criticism, gently rearranging her fingers on the keys to form the correct chord, the contact shocking her so much that she yelped, her vision going black immediately. 
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“Give me your number,” the girl– Y/N– demanded, apparently trying to sound confident, but her alcohol-flushed cheeks were countering her desire to seem intimidating. 
Yoongi chuckled, for what felt like the first time in years, watching the girl stick out her arm and using her free hand to dig around in her purse for something. With a triumphant grin, she produced a pen from her bag, shoving it in Yoongi’s palm. 
“Give me your number, Yoongi,” Y/N repeated, waving her bare forearm in his face. 
“Silly girl. Why don’t I just put it in your contacts?” Yoongi teased, though he was secretly delighted that she wanted to keep in touch with him. He prayed that you’d be the one to remember. 
“My phone died,” Y/N pouted– oh, she didn’t know how irresistible she was. “Just write it on my arm, I’ll plug it in to my phone tomorrow, I swear.”
She didn’t know that promises, when it came to The Black Lodge, often disappeared into thin air. She didn’t know that there was a strong possibility that come morning, she’d forget she was even at a bar, that she met him. He shook his head, as if to clear the thoughts from it, reaching out to hold her wrist steady, uncapping the pen with his teeth. Yoongi could tell she was holding her breath, her heart rate picking up as he copied his cell phone number onto her smooth flesh. 
“What time is it? I have work in the morning…” Y/N looked regretful, like she couldn’t bear to leave the bar. It pulled at his heartstrings, embarrassingly enough. 
“Midnight,” Yoongi checked his watch before looking back at her face, trying to memorize every inch of it. “You should probably get going. I’ll call you a cab.”
Yoongi let Y/N cling to his arm, a little unstable on her heels, walking her to the back entrance of the bar. He felt the ache of having to say goodbye to the first person who made him feel like a real person in years, but there was nothing he could do– it’s not like he could lock her away in his apartment upstairs just so he could have someone to come home to. Breathing in deeply, he knew that he’d miss her scent as soon as she’d get in the cab and drive away. 
Leaning by the door, watching for the cab out of the window, Yoongi tried to appear nonchalant, but he was truthfully shaken. Y/N was talking about a concert that she wanted to go to with him the following week, an indie band he never heard of. If you remembered him the next day, there was a possibility he’d have actual plans with someone. Someone interested in getting to know him. 
“Hey Yoongi?” Y/N brought him out of his reverie, frowning as he spotted her cab waiting outside. 
“What’s that, silly girl?” 
“Can you kiss me?” She asked quietly, Yoongi positive that only a hybrid could hear her with how low she spoke. “Please?”
Stunned, Yoongi swallowed thickly, forgetting all about the cabbie waiting outside and honking furiously. She looked shy, and judging by her scent, she was anxious. Stepping closer, Yoongi’s body moved on its own, his hands slightly shaking as they reached to cup her delicate jaw. Y/N sucked in a breath, gaze dropping to his mouth, before her pretty eyes fluttered shut. Stooping, Yoongi shut his own eyes, his lips finding purchase on hers, her sweet sigh being swallowed up by him willingly. She gripped his wrists, still cradling her face, her teeth nipping lightly at his lower lip. Y/N pulled away all too soon, looking dazed, Yoongi equally as breathless. She reached up, flicking the angel wing earring dangling from his ear, giggling. 
“I’ll call you tomorrow, angel.” 
With that, she disappeared into the night, and the call never came.
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“Y/N? Y/N, sweetheart, are you okay? What happened?” Yoongi, his voice somehow far away but definitely panicked, drew her out of whatever vision had taken over her body. She could feel herself being held, propped up against a heaving chest, a trembling hand cupping her cheek. “Y/N, please baby, open your eyes!”
Wheezing, Y/N could feel consciousness coming back to her piece by piece, the crack in Yoongi’s voice devastating her. Peeling her eyes open, she was met with Yoongi staring back at her, mortification and fear all over his face, ears pressed so flat to his skull she almost couldn’t see them. 
“What happened?” Y/N echoed Yoongi’s question back to him, her own voice scratchy. Yoongi, despite himself, pushed hair out of Y/N’s face, his whole body coiled with stress. 
“I don’t know. You passed out for a few seconds, but you s-sounded like you were having a terrible dream,” Yoongi’s voice cracked again, still holding her close to his chest. 
“I– it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t a dream. I think,” Y/N spoke slowly, like her mouth was full of molasses. “I think it was a vision, like the ones my mom has.”
Y/N felt sapped of energy, entirely sagging into Yoongi’s embrace, forgetting all about how estranged they had been for weeks. When he put his hand over her’s, she got the vision. 
“What did you see, sweetheart?” Yoongi seemed to calm down a bit, though still held onto her like she was going to dissolve into smoke. 
“The bar, you and me. But from your perspective. Our kiss,” Y/N whispered, trying to replay the vision in her head over and over again, trying to remember how Yoongi’s lips felt on her. 
“You– you remembered?” Yoongi exclaimed, color flooding his cheeks. “Wait, what do you mean, from my perspective?”
“Like I was seeing it from your eyes,” Y/N explained tiredly, slumping further into his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you the next day, angel.”
Yoongi went ramrod straight, a hiss coming from the back of his throat as he maneuvered Y/N upright by her upper arms so he could look into her eyes. 
“You need to stop apologizing to me,” Yoongi breathed, his eyebrows pulling together, pained. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Can’t do what?” Y/N’s voice broke, moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. 
“How many times am I going to make you cry?” Yoongi used a thumb to brush away the tears under her eyes, his anguished expression becoming even more pronounced. 
“I-I get that you don’t like me like that, Yoongi, b-but–”
“Y/N, I love you. I think I fell in love with you a year ago,” Yoongi confessed desperately, his other hand coming up to cup the side of her face. “As cheesy as that is. I love you, and it’s killing me.”
The world stopped, her heart stopped, and everything around her ceased to exist except for Yoongi. Tears drying up as if by command, Y/N searched for any sign of deception on his face or hidden in his body language, but came up with nothing. 
“You love me, too?” Y/N whimpered, heart aching from something else now. 
Yoongi leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes falling shut as he exhaled shakily. She twisted her fists into the fabric of his tee shirt, craving his warmth, savoring how close he was. 
“So fucking much,” Yoongi confirmed, voice above a whisper. “I love you so fucking much, baby.”
“Yoongi…” Y/N breathed, heart about to beat out of her chest. “Love you…”
With a purr rounding out into a growl, Yoongi moved one of his hands to the small of Y/N’s waist, dragging her closer to him. Inches away, danger, but also tenderness, filled his hazel eyes. He was beautiful. 
“Kiss me,” Yoongi’s barely audible request sent fireworks off in her gut, his eyes shutting again as he nudged his nose against hers. “Please.”
How could she possibly deny him, her Yoongi, her love, when he asked her so sweetly?
Pulse racing, Y/N released her hold on his shirt, tucking a long strand of jet black hair behind his ear, humming when he shuddered, placing her hand on the side of his neck, his own pulse thrumming as fast as hers was. 
“Please, baby,” Yoongi repeated, the pet name making her stomach flip. Without any more hesitation, Y/N leaned up, perfectly slotting her lips against Yoongi’s, gentle, slow, and impossibly sweet. 
His lips, full and soft, were yielding against hers, letting her take the lead, his hands remaining still– one holding her face, the other on her waist. Locking lips for several moments, innocent and so full of love, Y/N drew away, winded and over the moon. Yoongi stayed close, eyes lidded and breathing labored, before he spoke again. 
“More. Kiss me more.”
Yoongi pulled her into his lap, his tail curling around her waist, one arm around her back and the other traveling down to the outside of her thigh. Y/N, growing shy, gave him a simple peck, face on fire. She never imagined that this was how her night was going to go, but she couldn’t even remember when they weren’t like this before. Not satisfied with the measly peck she planted on the corner of his mouth, Yoongi chased after her, gripping her jaw tightly and descending his lips on her once more, Y/N gasping in surprise. Yoongi took that opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, swallowing the startled moan she made hungrily, the tip of his tongue flicking against the roof of her mouth. 
Melting in his grip, Y/N kissed him back with renewed vigor, a hand moving to tangle in his silky hair, pleased that he took over the kiss, lungs screaming for air as Yoongi sucked on her lower lip with a purr. As if sensing that she needed to catch her breath, Yoongi released her lip with a pop, his mouth peppering kisses along her sensitive jaw voraciously, hand on her thigh rubbing up and down. Sighing blissfully, Y/N’s head tilted back when his lips trailed to her neck, mouth wet and kisses searing her flesh.
“Fuck, you smell so good,” Yoongi groaned into her neck, lightly sucking on a spot behind her ear that had her mewling. “Let me mark you…”
Words failing her, Y/N nodded desperately, eager to feel his teeth sink into her flesh. Chuckling darkly, Yoongi started muttering sweet nothings, dragging his tongue up the length of her throat. The hand on her thigh moved again, this time to grab a loose hold of the base of her neck, Y/N’s eyes rolling back into her skull with the weight of his palm in such a vulnerable spot. 
“Hold onto me, my love,” Yoongi murmured in her ear, Y/N obediently tightening her grip around Yoongi’s waist, whining at the sensation of his teeth tracing the vein fluttering with her erratic pulse making her see stars behind her eyelids. 
With one more open-mouthed kiss to her throat, Yoongi bit down, Y/N crying out his name, never feeling more alive than in that moment, in his arms, teeth in her neck. Tail protectively curling even tighter around her waist, Yoongi’s purrs were growing so loud, he sounded more predatory than ever. She didn’t know if it was the fact that he loved her, that he was kissing her, or the the side effects of scenting, but Y/N swore her soul ascended as he removed his teeth from the mark, a sensual swipe of his tongue sweeping over the wound to cauterize it. 
Growing entirely limp in his arms, Y/N barely had the energy to kiss him back when his lips returned to hers, whimpering at the tangy taste of her own blood on his tongue. And then, all at once, his lips were gone. 
“I don’t want to get carried away, sweetheart,” Yoongi’s voice was strained, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead with a hum.
“What if I do?” Y/N countered dopily, her head full of cotton and Yoongi. Yoongi barked out a hearty laugh, unable to help himself by pecking her lips once more, smoothing her hair into place. She probably looked like she got attacked.
“Not tonight, love,” Yoongi helped her stand, snickering at her whining protests. “Let’s take it slow, hmm? You need to get some rest, proper rest. So do I.”
“I guess you’re right,” Y/N admitted begrudgingly, though she wanted nothing more than Yoongi kissing her senseless all night, her body was sagging with exhaustion. “Your edginess has been keeping me up for nights on end.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” Yoongi apologized sincerely, his ears flattening against his skull again. Before he opened up the soundproofed door, he stopped, lifting her hand to his lips to brush a kiss over her knuckles. “I love you.”
Realizing, until they figured out how to tell the others, they’d have to keep their affections to themselves, Y/N pouted even further. Now that she had a taste of him, she was insatiable. 
“I love you, too, angel.”
Silently, Yoongi walked Y/N to her bedroom, stealing one last kiss after making sure the hallway was clear, Y/N floating on air as she sunk onto her bed, Yoongi shutting the door and leaving her to relive everything that happened mentally. 
On her nightstand, where she had left it, her phone chimed, making her flinch and swear. Blindly reaching for it, still a little hazy from the scenting and makeout session, she unlocked her phone, only to feel dread wash over her as she read the text that she received.
Hoseok 🦊: What the hell is going on with you and Yoongi? 
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