#have this from my phone notes. i'm thinking about the Being Small days of this AU. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iheartcurlyfries · 5 months

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cause baby, you get me so...

dom!mascellie x sub!femreader

|| authors note: this is the first story I've ever actually felt proud enough to post || also sorry if it's iffy! I'm still new to writing but I've been taking awhile observing my favorite fic writers and have learned a few things so.. enjoy!! :) || (I made this because of shy smith's new song.) ||

|| CW: smut with a lot of plot, mdni, wlw, friends with benefits, ellie loves tits, LITTLE use of 'y/n', fingering, use of swear words, praising, ellie is soft, barely experienced reader, ellie shows reader true pleasure, and light masturbation. ||

you and ellie had been friends since almost forever, you've always been inseparable. and when you both grew older your innocent mind turned into something you never expected, you saw ellie in a different light and seemingly grew a liking to her. she's always protected you from everything and always treated you better than any other girl in jackson (which made you admire her even more), it was almost like she had a sweet spot for you, which you never understood why she did.

ellie was very proudly out, she loved having people know she was gay, she had multiple girlfriends but everything seemed to end up in the same way, ellie gets bored and she breaks up with them. and then there was you, a girl who was scared to come out, you had always pretended to like guys and even dated a few, but no one ever caught your eye as much as your bestfriend did. something about her made you tingle inside, you'd get the butterflies in your stomach even by just thinking about her, but you knew you'd never be able to tell her.

after every stressful day, you'd lay down in your bed, your gaze would shift from the wall to the window, trying to poke at every detail to entertain you. you'd shift and turn, trying to get comfortable, groaning when you couldn't find something to distract yourself with. you'd pick up your phone, scrolling through your messages, trying to find someone to talk to for entertainment.

and that's when it hit you, you saw ellie in your messages, the thought of her instantly creeping into your mind. a small smile formed with a curve on your lips, you'd sigh as you thought about her, putting your phone down as you stared at the ceiling. her being in your thoughts made your thighs rub together, you gently bit down on your bottom lip, picking at it with your teeth.

you couldn't lie to yourself, you always fantasized about ellie, thinking about all the things you'd let her do for to you. you always imagined her in between your legs, you'd yank at her hair as whimpers would escape your lips in a muffled tone. she'd always take it slow with you, making sure you'd adjust to her, she'd never wanna hurt you. she'd slide a finger into you, gently pumping it in and out of you as she swirled her tongue around your bud, making sure to be as gentle as possible. you'd whine and run your fingers through her hair, the sight of her fucking you always made you just wanna cum

you always gave in to your thoughts, everytime they got to intense, you'd gently swirl two fingers over your clit, biting down on your lip to hold back a hoarse whine, your thighs would press together when you got close, you were so very sensitive, a few flicks to your bud and you were done. you'd be a whimpering mess, making sure her name was the only word in your vocabulary in those moments. and when you were done you'd lie there, thinking as if she was the one pleasuring you. but you'd always think to yourself how much more you'd feel better if it was her and not you.

whenever you and ellie would hangout she'd throw flirty comments at you, being oblivious you never knew what she meant by the flirts, always thinking she was just being friendly. you never knew how she felt about you, you could've never imagined the fantasies she'd have, she always saw you as a pretty and delicate thing, like a porcelain doll. she always imagined how good it would feel to be the one to show you a real experience, something that your hand couldn't give you, something that only hers could.

you sighed, leaning back on ellie's couch as you watched her play a game, call of duty. you stared at the screen, smiling when she won and got all excited, you thought she was cute when the game fed her ego, and you rooted for her, giving out gentle and sweet praise to her. 'you're doing great- els.' you cooed as she got another kill. your gaze turned to her hands, she gripped the controller tightly as her fingers pressed the buttons at a quicker pace. you admired how patient she was with this game, how quick she would adjust after getting a kill, it was something you always admired about her.

'thank you ma' she'd say, smiling at you. "ma" was always a nickname she used for you, you liked it of course, it was special, something only she called you.

you'd giggle when she would call you that, a peachy tint covering your cheeks as you looked back up at the screen. "I don't understand how you're so good at this game." you'd tease, you were never really a big fan of video games, it was never something you were good at. but you enjoyed watching her play, you didn't know if it was just her being the one playing or if you actually enjoyed the game, but nonetheless you always found yourself loving watching her play.

'I'll teach you how to play one day, you'll be a natural I bet." she muttered, her eyes never leaving the screen. you looked over at you again, admiring her concentration on the game. "you got this 'els, you got this." you'd praise, the tone of your voice dripping with sweetness.

after your praise she got her last kill, winning the game before celebrating, a big 'ol grin always on her face when she'd win. she leaned back, man-spreading as she put the controller down on the couch, taking a deep breath as she looked over at you.

'do you wanna try, mama?' she asked, handing you the controller with a serious face, a smirk slightly creeping onto it.

"ellie no-" you obliged, 'I'd be humbled instantly.' I said with a nice little chuckle, pushing the controller back to ellie.

'no c'mon ma, I'll show you..' she said, her tone gentle. 'c'mere.' she whispered with a smile, patting her lap. you blushed, and you felt your eyes lightly widened, "okay.." you said with a soft smile, you sat up, crawling over to ellie. she grabbed your hips and sat you onto her lap, lightly rubbing her hands up your sides.

she handed you the controller, guiding you through the loading screen. she leaned over and whispered into your ear- 'this is the shooter..' she began explaining the "simple" instructions, you could barely focus, just the sound of her whispering in your ear and the feeling of her hands on your sides were enough to get you going. 'okay...' you mumbled, your voice lightly cracking. as you loaded in she moved her hands to yours, guiding yours on the controller, helping you get a few kills as she whispered a few praises in your ear. 'you're doing so well mama, look at you go..' she'd say, you'd bite your lip, rubbing your thighs gently together. you felt it, the same feeling, the feeling of being soaked.

after she helped you win the round she smiled, praising you more as she leaned back, her hands creeping back to your hips, rubbing them with her thumb. 'see? you're a natural.' she grinned, running her fingers over your hips, she pulled you back lightly. 'I love how easy you are to teach mama.' she whispered, her tone soft as she tried to get you to turn to face her. you smiled and turned around, facing her as you sat on her lap. 'I still hated it, it was stressing me out..' you giggled, putting a piece of hair behind your ear.

'that's okay, you don't have to play again.' ellie said, her hands now running down your thighs. 'but you did so good ma..'

god her voice.. you thought, everything she was doing made you feel amazing, the way she praised you and the way she stared at you. but oh the way she touched your thighs made you feel the best, it almost felt like she was just teasing you so she could get a reaction. but you didn't care, you got pleasure out of her touch.

you smiled at her, not saying anything as you just admired her, everything from her freckles to the details of her scars on her face. she looked up at you, her gaze softened slightly as she stared at you. 'do you know how beautiful you are, y/n?' ellie said as she lifted a piece of your hair out of your face, moving it gently as you let out a sigh. 'that's sweet, els..' you smiled, licking your lips slowly as you took a deep breath in.

'are you just gonna stare at me forever?' ellie muttered with a teasing tone, it snapped you out of your day dreaming. she giggled before putting a hand on your chin, gently pulling you in. you gasped slightly as she captured your lips in a kiss, she pulled her hand away from your chin, both hands on your hips as her gripped tightened.

you whimpered softly against her lips as her grip tightened on your hips, you put your hands on the side of her face, deepening the kiss more as the butterflies grew in your stomach.

as she kissed you she pulled her hands away from your hips, she guided them to your button up, gently unbutton-ing the buttons slowly, making sure to take her time. she pulled back for a second to slip the shirt off of your shoulders, you helped her, all with a smile on your face. you couldn't believe what was happening.

she smiled back at you, she guided a hand up to your chin again, lifting your jaw up before leaning in to kiss down your neck. she made her way to your collarbone, leaving behind pinky love marks. you let out a delicate moan as she kissed your collarbone, sucking another hickey onto it. 'wear these with pride, ma, they add to your beauty.' she whispered, her tone had a hint of playfulness as she pulled back.

'may i?' she asked, grabbing the hem of your skirt as she waited for your confirmation. 'yes, you're aloud anything..' you reassured her, you smiled as you adjusted yourself on her lap, helping her slide your skirt down your thighs.

as she got the skirt off of you she put it over on the other side of the couch where your shirt was. she turned back to you and leaned in for another kiss, taking everything slow with you. after a good minute she unlatched her lips again, she looked up at you as she made her way to the back of your bra, gently and slowly un-clipping it and guiding it off your chest. she smiled as she saw your perky breasts. 'mm so beautiful mama..' she whispered, gently putting her hands on them, fondling them. she took one finger and gently pinched at your nipple, making you let out a whimper in response. 'so responsive..' she praised, running her thumb over your nipple.

you let a few more whimpers slip as she played with your boobs, her fingers glided over your nipples before she leaned in and took one in her mouth, lightly sucking. 'mm that feels s'good els..' you'd whine, sliding a hand into her hair and gently playing with it.

with a pop she pulled away from your breast, smiling up at you as she kissed up your chest to your neck again, putting a hand on the other side of your neck. you lifted your head up, giving ellie more room as she claimed your neck, as she got closer to your ear she leaned in and whispered. 'mama, m'gonna fuck you..' her tone was smooth and it made your ears tingle, your breath hitched slightly while letting out a soft sigh. she giggled before kissing your neck again, as she was kissing up and down your neck, only leaving more hickeys she slid a hand down your thigh. you let out a gasp as you felt a hand rub at your clit, she rubbed in a harsh way as the wet spot on your panties only grew.

you let out a needy whine, gently spreading your legs more. you slid your hand back into ellie's hair once more, giving it a light tug. 'mmpph..' you moaned, slowly bucking your hips into ellie's hand. you honestly couldn't believe it, one of your fantasies actually coming true, the way she touched you so skillfully through your panties was just oh so fucking good, the way it was just as you imagined, gentle yet quick.

your thighs lightly shook as your head tilted back. she pulled away from your neck, leaning back on the couch with a lustful expression. 'gotta give you something real, princess.' she uttered as she pulled her hand back, guiding them to the hem of your underwear before slowing pulling it down your legs. you lifted yourself up slightly, helping her take them off.

she threw them to where your other clothes were with a grin, looking up at you. 'you're so beautiful..' she cooed, she leaned back again and ran a hand down your thigh. she took her ring and middle finger and gently slid them up and down your delicate folds. her touch making you squirm. she pulled her fingers back and put them in her mouth, tasting your slick, she moaned before pulling her fingers out, making sure they were really wet and ready for your cunt.

she pulled you by your hips, guiding you closer before slowly rubbing your nub with her thumb, 'you ready?' she whispered, looking up at you.

"as ready as I'll ever be..' you giggled, she smiled softly before slowly spreading your folds with her other hands, then slowly sliding the tip of her fingers into your entrance in a teasing way. you whimpered softly before she slid her full fingers into your tight sopping hole. this simple action made you moan, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip, your gummy walls lightly clenched around her fingers. she admired how your cunt swallowed them instantly, after a second she slowly pumped her fingers in and out at a weak pace, but the way they hit your sweet spot every thrust made it feel better than she thought it would.

you were messy as hell, she pumped her fingers into you, slightly increasing her pace as she whispered sweet praises into your ear. telling you how much of a good girl you were being and how well u were taking her. It made you melt, not only her voice but her touch too, you felt a pressure build up in your stomach, something you never truly felt before, and it made you glad ellie was the first person helping you feel that way.

'c'mon baby, you got this..' she'd whisper as she picked up her pace, her fingers pumping in and out of you at a more quickened rate, your walls gently pulsed at the speed changed but you adjusted quickly, gently moaning into ellie's ear as you rested your head onto her shoulder. 'm'gonna cum els, i can feel it..' you got a sentence choked out, it wasn't a cohesive one but it was good enough for these circumstances. she smiled at your words, only picking up her pace more as she rubbed her other hand up your thigh.

you couldn't help it, you lifted your head up and tilted it back with a moan, the way she was fingering you made you feel so fucking amazing. 'mmghh-- ellie..' you whined, you felt it coming, the pressure getting too good.. your eyes rolled back as your walls started to pulse, you felt it, coming down from your high as you let yourself come undone onto ellie's fingers. ellie was delighted, whispering more praise into your ear as she slowed down her pumping, after a few seconds she gently pulled her fingers out of you, licking them clean before she rubbed her hands up your thighs again, you laid your head back on her shoulder, panting heavily.

'good girl, ma, I knew you could do it..'

A/N: ahhh this is so bad but I love it so much!! writing makes me so happy and I hope this fanfiction made you happy too <3

#Spotify #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #smut #the last of us

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iiwaijime · 1 month

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DESTINY — O. MIYA

cws; swearing, gn?reader, just fluff...!

wc; 713

osamu miya.

he's the type to cook for you, always. like, regardless of how well you can cook, or how different your schedules are.

"what time will you be up?" he asks.

"6:15."

and he'll be there cooking your breakfast already.

that's not to say you don't experience lazy mornings, either, when osamu has his arms wrapped loosely around you, and your legs are tangled together. when sometimes you talk about everything, and other times you talk about nothing, and he kisses your shoulder and you kiss his hands. he's warm, too, warm enough that you're kicking the covers off yourself and scooting away from him once you're awake enough. he's undeterred, though, following you around like a determined puppy until you finally give in and let him pull you back into his chest.

he's the type to absolutely smush your cheeks together when he kisses them; he definitely loves kissing your cheeks. he also loves nose kisses!!! he adores your nose — your everything, really, he just loves you a lot.

he loves chauffeuring you around, like hell YEAH he's your man and he will do everything for you. on slower days, he probably like, drives with one hand and uses the other to hold on to your hand or just rests it on your thigh.

speaking of which! this man is HUGE on physical contact. it's nothing too showy, and it doesn't really matter if you're in public or not. like, he ALWAYS holds your hand, everywhere! or has a pinky hooked around yours if you can't do that! OR OR OR when it's cold, he holds your hand and tucks it into his pocket along with his own.

adding onto the when will you wake up thing, when the two of you didn't live together he'd make sure he was awake before you so you could see a good morning text when you woke up, whether you woke up super early or super late.

when osamu falls in love, he falls so fucking hard. this man gets you flowers and keeps one for himself so he knows when to get you new ones. he buys you coffee every day and has a picture of you in his wallet, and a polaroid in his phone case. when you start living together, he writes you stupid lovey dovey notes and sticks them around everywhere. he even does the notes app thing and he knows everything you like. his wallpaper and lockscreen are both pictures of you, and he unironically has an i love my partner tshirt. probably more than one, if i'm being honest.

he lazes around in bed with you when you want, and has all your favourite movies downloaded everywhere, just in case. want to watch a new movie? he's bought the tickets before you even ask. he takes you to libraries and bookstores, and he dances with you in the rain, and goes on walks with you, and he's just so perfect, even when he's not. and he thinks — no, he knows you're perfect, even if you think otherwise.

he's SO good at comforting you. if you don't want to talk, that's okay! he'll hold you until you feel better, or until you're ready to tell him. or he can distract you with the stupidest small talk, if that's what you need. and he knows exactly what to say, always. he understands you, in silence and frustration and grief and pain. when you're okay, and when you're not. and whatever happens, he's always there for you.

and he's not a poet, and all he really knows is volleyball and cooking, but he swears you're some sort of wizard, because everything you do and everything you say is magic, and he's never been more enamoured by anyone, ever. if love is a person, it's you.

he's never believed in soulmates, but he knows he's made for you, made to love you, made to be yours. he's never really believed in things like fate either, but if he's destined to spend the rest of his life like this, with you, he thinks he could learn to live with it. but that's a lie, really, because he's not just okay with it. he's actually so fucking down to have you as his forever.

WSG UR FAVOURITE ACADEMIC WEAPON WITH THE COOLEST CHILLEST MOM EVER HAS POSTED rubs hands together evilly PLEASE LIKE FOLLOW REBLOG AND OR COMMENT IF YOU LIKE IT REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME!!!

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babbymochiiii · 17 days

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⊹₊ ⋆ᯓ★ street racer mark lee

❤︎ ໋𓈒 street racer!mark x afab!reader; you can ride me...or you can ride with me.

ʚ warnings: not proof read, ngl i'm pretty lazy with the smut here...so bare with me cause i was losing the creative juice for it 💀, some boob loving, oral/fingering (f), p in v, unprotected sex (pls...use a condom), mark is drunk on pussy 🤷🏽, creampie x2, possessive mark, dub con, backseat sex, johnny being an asshole of not respecting your space, screaming match between mark and reader, and lots of curse words being thrown around one another. won't lie the second smut scene might make some of my readers uncomfortable due to the content it has and how mark just handles the situation, so i will be putting a little warning sign between the dialogue so if you wish to skip it you can, i don't think you need to have full context of what happens as i feel like the dialogue that comes after explains itself.

ʚ to hear that songs that lowkey had some inspiration to this fic, here is the link to the spotify playlist i made; click here for street racer! mark playlist!

ʚ author’s note: yes this is me adding more about street racer mark from my first ever post here…but with a bit more fun >:) enjoy! originally, i did want to get this out before mark’s b-day, but my bf was in town from school and we’ll all writing plans went out the window and i had to take advantage of my time with him 😩🫶🏼 other than that note, i have been writing here and there for this post as much as i could or really come up with on the spot cause my brain is in a little :P mood for a while now so… ✨motivation is fast and furious ✨

ʚ word count: 7.4k words

❤︎ ໋𓈒 if you haven't read the past parts to this series, here is the series m.list!

street racer!mark who loves the adrenaline rush he gets every time he races.

street racer! mark who is honestly pretty cold and straight forward with people but is a honestly a golden retriever with his tight circle. (He’s a Doberman basically)

street racer! mark from the first moment he saw you, he knew you were his.

street racer! mark who was ready to bash his opponents head into his steering wheel for even looking at you the way he did when you were set up as their flag girl (though he knew he couldn’t but that wouldn’t stop him)

street racer! mark who honestly catches johnny off guard when he acts all sweet and nice to you after you helped start the race he just finished (and won)

street racer! mark who realized he lowkey made a fool of himself when he asked you to be his sugar mama, but couldn’t help but feel his soul sore when he heard you laugh at his rambling

street racer! mark who knew the moment that you agreed to hanging out with him after his two races, you were meant to be his

street racer! mark who honestly cornered your friend into a corner and convinced her to give him your number after not seeing you for a month (he’s quite convincing without doing much)

street racer! mark who feels like a hormonal teenage boy feeling extremely nervous when texting you due to the fact that he wasn’t sure how your relationship with him stood

street racer! mark who the moments he sends the first text he throws his phone onto his bed before shoving his face between his hands because he knows that you have him whipped after one interaction

street racer! mark who jumps at the sound of his phone signaling that he had a new text message, and with a racing heart, grabs his phone and instantly felt his face heat up in ecstasy and a small laugh of embarrassment for not explaining that it was him in the first place when you asked who was texting you

street racer! mark who invites you out to the races tonight, shooting a blank bullet knowing it was hit or miss if you came out tonight or not; but to his delight you ended up saying yes causing him to jump up and let out a “HELL YEAH!” in the process while gaining a weird look from haechan as he walked passed his door

street racer! mark who watches your interaction with johnny from afar, his jaw set as he tries not to storm over. but the moment he sees johnny reach towards your hair and pull it out of the make-shift low bun you had something within him set ablaze and he started to make his way towards you.

“y/n! there you are!” he called out as he was close enough to be in your ear shot. “mark, hey!” you said as you turned and looked at him with a wide smile. “so I was thinking, do you possibly want to get in the car with me for my next race?” he asked you as he looked at you with a look that he knew you couldn’t refuse his offer. you have a look of hesitance. “i mean is that allowed? like dude, I’m not trying to break any rules that says I’m not supposed to do this so like—“ you rambled as you looked between mark and johnny for reassurance (it bothered him you looked at johnny with that look on your face and not just him…) “nah bro, you good. besides it’s sort of really freaking rare if someone sat in the passenger seat with the driver unless that person is on their team.” he made sure to reassure you as he placed his arm around your shoulders and bringing you to his side. you looked up at mark and gave him a wide smile of excitement, that to him, makes your eyes sparkle with said emotion. “then, yeah I’ll go ride with you.”

street racer! mark who can’t stop laughing at the way you scream his name out as he speeds down the roads. several squeals leave your lips as you also laughed out as he could tell was your adrenaline causing you to react in that way.

street racer! mark who can’t help but feel the pride swell in his chest as you cheer him on for winning the race.

street racer! mark who can’t help but hold in his laugh knowing that he caught you off guard with his slight flirt comment.

“all thanks to you.” “dude, you’re flirting.” you said as mark watched your jaw drop slightly in shock. with the small silence that falls between the two of you, makes you both laugh out over the moment.

street racer! mark who doesn’t think twice about leaning in (nor did he care) as he watched you lean in as well with hooded eyes.

street racer!mark who was ready to end johnny’s life as he knew he purposely slammed the car’s hood and squeezed in between the two of you for conversation.

street racer! mark who was trying his best to keep his cool in front of you as he continued the conversation.

“you should’ve heard how she was screaming at the top of her lungs.” mark said as he laughs about your reaction. “yeah i bet she was pretty loud.” johnny said with a cocky smirk while looking down at you.

street racer! mark who was picturing 1,000 ways of his killing his so called friend after the comment he made, but of course that didn’t stop for either of their slip up in front of you as they glared at one another with a knowing look.

street racer! mark who despite the fact he said goodbye to you with glee, he turned around back towards johnny, who he too was turning towards mark, losing the smile on his face as an intense silence falls before them.

"what are you getting at Suh?" mark said getting straight to the point. "don't know what you mean, Lee." johnny said with a smirk as the situation wasn't obvious. "you know i'm going after her." mark said as he felt his anger starting to take over him. johnny scoffs. "it's not like you laid a claim on her just yet mark. she's free game."

street racer! mark who knew with the way johnny smiled at him meant nothing good, and knew that if he wanted you to be his and only his, he had to find ways (and he always found a way)

street racer! mark who coincidentally bumped into you on college campus and somehow convinced you to hang out with him outside of the car meet (anything to get the upper hand)

street racer! mark who couldn't stop staring at you when he took you to a diner that is a couple miles out of town; you were scared of course, but mark reassured you that everything was going to be okay with him beside you (and dude has a gun with him so really yall are fine-)

street racer! mark who somehow convinced you to go with him to a tattoo/piercing shop with him.

"you're getting your eyebrow pierced?" you asked with an intrigued tone lacing around your question. "yeah, i mean, why not? been wanting to get one honestly." mark said as he gave you a quick glance as he continued to drive down the road towards the shop. "i think you'll look good with it." you said softly as you felt yourself blush at the thought of mark having an eyebrow piercing. suddenly, the thought was more than just innocent thought. mark is a very good looking man, you couldn't deny it as you felt yourself attracted, but for some reason the thought of mark having an eyebrow piercing....it makes you squeeze your thighs together. you tried to be discreet about it, as said man you're fantasizing about it right next to you.

street racer! mark who doesn't miss the way you clench your thighs together as you continue savoring the thought of mark having an eyebrow piercing. his free hand runs along the bottom of his bottom lip as a smirk stretches on his face at the thought of you getting turned on. the hand on steering wheel tightens slightly at the thought of you in such a way for him to the point that his knuckles turn white, before he let's go of his grip to calm himself down as you both have arrived to the shop.

"ready?" you asked mark as you both walked towards the front door of said shop. "ready than never, baby." mark said lowly in such a sultry tone, that it visible made chills run down your spine and for a slight blush dust on your face and neck, as you tried to look away from him, but he could read your body language by now and it only made him chuckle to himself.

street racer! mark who sits down on the chair the body piercer has in their room as they prep everything for the procedure.

when mark look's toward you he swears you're more nervous for him that he is for himself. "you okay, baby?" he asked as he couldn't help but smirk at you, but still took hold of your hand in his in a gentle hold. "y-yeah, just...you know. it's a big needle." you mumbled as you look down to where his thumb was rubbing gentle circles on your knuckles to distract you from your own nerves. "i'll be okay, don't worry too much for me baby." mark said as he gave you a small squeeze of reassurance.

street racer! mark who couldn’t help but feel his ego swell due to the fact that you couldn’t stop looking at him with his new piercing.

“you okay baby?” mark asked as he gave you a quick glance in the car before looking back towards the road. “huh? oh— uh yeah, i’m fine!” you squeaked out embarrassed as you looked at your hands resting at your lap. your nails are looking really interesting right now. mark smirked at your reaction before he continued to drive to your dorm complex.

street racer! mark who makes sure that everyone knows that you are his. does not give a flying fuck honestly at how people react when you’re with him, he knows has to stop it and doesn’t care how he’s gotta get them to shut up. but of course, there is johnny…who doesn’t know what isn’t yours, you shouldn’t touch.

street racer! mark who is fed up with johnny’s bs of blatantly flirting with you in front of him. to which he takes measures into his own hand and asks you out on an official date with him tomorrow night.

“on—on a date?” you asked him as he saw the way your face and neck started to flush in a delicate red shade. “yes, thought i’d make it official.” mark said as he leaned in slightly and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “i— yeah i would love to.” you mumbled softly to him as he let his hand linger softly on your cheek, causing you to flush deeper. “great i’ll pick you up, baby.” mark said as he placed a quick, tender kiss on your forehead. when mark stood straight, he looked behind you and saw the way johnny was sending him glares towards him, that mark couldn’t help but smirk at him before he took your hand and brought you to his car.

street racer! mark who goes all out for your first date with him. he was honestly a nervous wreck, but was pulling though seeing how brightly you were smiling at him, and just how your eyes caught the light just right...it made his heart go into overdrive at the sight before him.

street racer! mark who is such a gentleman throughout the whole date that you honestly can't help but make the first move on him when he dropped you off at your dorm room's door.

"i had a good night tonight." you said softly as you looked up towards mark with a small smile on your face and with a knowing blush resting on your face. "i'm glad you enjoyed it baby. anything for you." mark said as he looked down at you with a boyish smile playing on his face. something about the way mark looked in front of you had you in a daze. his black hair in a messy slicked back hairstyle with some strands of hair falling in his face. the classic leather black jacket he wore, this time with a white shirt underneath the jacket, black belt wrapped around blue jeans, as he wore black boots with his whole outfit. your mouth was honestly watering at the sight in front of you. "do you want to go on a da—" mark started but was cut off with the feeling of you taking hold of his shirt in your hand and pulling him down to your level. "—date?" "shut up and kiss me mark." you commanded softly as you eyed the way he licked his lips. without saying a word, mark leaned in and delivered one hell of a bruising kiss. nothing about the kiss was delicate like he was treating you all night. the kiss was straight passion that was breaking through the restraints that held around mark as all he's been wanting to do was devour you whole. there was some teeth clash, but neither of you cared as all you both wanted was to get closer to the other as you tried to fight for dominance in the kiss. you instantly gave up in trying to win for dominance when mark's tongue grazed along yours, causing you to whimper in the kiss as you felt yourself melting at the taste and feeling of him.

street racer! mark who was trying to be a complete and utter gentleman when it came to wanting to take things further with you, but didn't want to push things further if you weren't willing to push at the boundaries as well.

"baby." mark mumbled in the kiss before pulling himself apart, as much to both of yours protest. "i don't want to do anything you don't want to do." mark said as he felt your hands wrap themselves around his neck and find the length of his hair and pull at it, causing for a groan to escape his lips. mark felt himself twitch in his jeans as tugged again at his roots, causing him to bite his bottom lip and look down at you. "mark please...i need you" you muttered your plea as you looked up at him with such doe eyes and a small pout that mark knew that he was completely at your mercy.

street racer! mark who the moment you opened your door and walked inside, he had you pinned against the closed door.

"are you sure you want to do this?" mark said as he looked down at you where you were caged between his arms. "yes." you breathlessly moaned out as you arched your back where your chest grazed his, just to show him how willing you are. "fuck..." mark mumbled before he placed his had at the back of your neck and pulled you into another throb-inducing-kiss. clothes started to come off between the two of you as you walked towards your bed, where mark wanted everything to be comfortable, mostly for you. you were only left in your underwear as you laid so pretty under the dim lighting of your bedroom. mark swore under his breath as he watched the way your chest rises and falls in quick breathes. his eyes travel over the expense of your exposed skin. it didn't take long for mark to find himself between your thighs. he captured your lips into a gentle kiss, completely different from before. inviting as the kiss was, it quickly turned harsh and hot when you bit mark's bottom lip. mark led his kisses down your neck in open mouth kisses, leaving blossoming bruises on the juncture that was between your neck and shoulder. as mark's lips traveled down your sternum, you started to release more breathy moans as the ticklish sensations over your flushed skin. mark took hold of your plumped breasts into each of his hand and gave them a slight squeeze, earning a delicious moan from you. encouraged, he takes one of your hard nipples into his mouth and suck on them lightly while tracing the tip of his tongue over it. you started to mumble curses as mark began to stimulate your neglected nipple between his pointer finger and thumb. he pulled on the nipple as he simultaneously bit down softly and tug on the nipple in his mouth causing for you to arch your back off of your bed and moan out loudly. with a lewd pop, mark started to kiss down your navel leaving slight nips in his path. once he reached down your clothed cunt, he started to place small, quick pecks where your clit lays. seeing the way you reacted. without wanting to wait to devour you any longer, mark rips your underwear in half with a rasped promise; "i'll buy you a new one baby, don't worry." was the last you heard before a moan rips through you as he placed a hard press of his tongue between your wet folds. mark starts to eat you out in a rhythm-ed pace that his tongue and fingers followed as they went inside of you, curling the front of the digits against your gummy walls. as mark continued, he felt you clench around his fingers and tongue. with one last push and curl, he had you arching your back off of your bed with a loud moan as you came. mark helped you ride out your orgasm with slow thrusts of his fingers. as you came calmed down from the intensity of the orgasm, you failed to notice mark pulling down his pants freeing his hard, aching length from it's death trap. mark gave himself a few pumps before he leaned above you. he lined himself up to your gaping entrance, but wanted to distract you due to the fact he feels like he didn't stretch you out enough with his fingers.

mark placed his lips on yours in a searing kiss, that made you fully pull your focus into the kiss. as he continued to kiss you, mark pushed himself into your first ring of resistance. you whimpered at the sensation of the stretch, while mark moaned at how tight you felt around him. mark slowly pumped himself in and out, slowly, resting the waters a bit to see how you would react to his movements. as mark started to pick up his pace, you both completely lose yourselves to the sensation you were feeling. mark was completely weak in the knees as he felt the way your gummy walls milked him with each stroke. not realizing how lost he was in the feeling, mark speed up to such a delicious pace it had you rolling your eyes back and curling your toes. you could hear mark mumbling incoherent sentences, but you were able to catch some of the words that slipped out of his mouth; “so fucking tight.”; “she’s sucking me in so good— fuck.” ; “that’s it baby, take me just like that…”;“listen to her, she’s fucking talking to me.” with each sentence that you could catch beyond your moans and his grunts, caused you to clench around him uncontrollably, that only causes mark to keep losing the little resolve he had left. "baby, if you keep clenching me like that...i'm not going to last long." mark said as he felt himself just continuing his brutal pace that had him grazing against your cervix in such a delicious way, that you swore you would give this man whatever he wanted if it meant that he could keep making you feel the way you do right now. "mark, please...please i'm so close! i—" you choked out a moan as he started to go in such a much faster pace than he was before (that was surprising you in all honestly) that your legs were practically on his shoulders at this point for the way he kept leaning against you to kiss between the valley of your breasts, along the juncture of your neck and jaw. you could feel the long, burning tell-tale of your orgasm fast approaching, especially if mark kept up with the fast pace that his hips where sending against yours. making your entire body jump up against his thrusts. "fuck, baby you're so beautiful taking me the way you are and how you're looking at me." mark grunted out as he whipped a strand of hair that was clinging to your sweaty forehead. "so beautiful — shit — and all mine." mark said, and in that moment it was as if something officially snapped within his mind because if he was going fast now, he was going in faster (that you swore wasn't humanly possible but he was proving you wrong.) "say it." he said as his hand went down your navel, and pressed his thumb down hard onto your throbbing clit, causing you to arch your back at the sensation mixing in with his ruthless thrusts. "say it for me baby, please i need to hear it." mark moaned out, that sounded like an a whimper by the end. you knew then and there that he was close to his orgasm as much as you are as he wanted that one finally push and his hips started to stutter. "m-mark, i'm all yours!" you squealed out as mark started to rub his fingers in a messy side-to-side matter against your clit that without warning you came loud and hard. mark swore he was in heaven the moment he felt you clench his cock in such a vice grip that it was almost impossible to continue thrusting himself into you. but along with you, mark groaned as he let out his load inside of you (not really thinking of the consequences it could bring of course.) mark rode out his orgasm, while helping you through yours.

street racer! mark who watches you with such tender expression that it hurts his heart knowing how quickly you came into his world and took him off of the course he was on. (he's in love with you)

street racer! mark who slowly removes himself from inside of you with a groan, before quietly leaving your side to go to your bathroom to grab a soft towel to clean you up with.

you felt something gently graze over your sensitive entrance that caused you to let out a small whimper at the sensation. "hey...sorry i don't mean to hurt you baby. just trying to clean you up so we can go shower and sleep for the night." mark said gently as he lifted himself up and started to place sweet, gentle kisses on your face as he watched you slowly lift up your hooded eyelids that were heavy with sleep. "okay..." you said softly as you gave mark a small smile. you and mark looked at one another with such tenderness that you honestly felt like you were gonna go into some sort of cardiac arrest at the way your heart was beating out of it's normal pace. "hi." you said shyly as you didn't know what to say to him. mark chuckled as he saw the shy blush carry itself across your face and chest. "hi, baby." he said softly as he placed a kiss onto your forehead. "come on, lemme help you into the shower." he said as he placed his arms around your neck and the back of your knees.

street racer! mark who was absolutely incredible at aftercare that honestly made you want to cry due to the fact he paid such attention on your needs, that you just felt so loved.

street racer! mark who after your shower, gives you a shirt he found in your closet and brings you to bed. makes sure you drink your water, and that you get all the cuddles in as you both get some much needed sleep.

street racer! mark who hasn't seen you in a while due to you become busy with schoolwork as it became one of the busiest week of the school year.

street racer! mark who is excited when he steps out of his car in front of your school campus as he goes to the other side of his car to lean against it, to surprise you with a pick up ride from him, when the smile he had on his face falls as he sees you walking out with some guy at your side.

street racer! mark who can see the way you're smiling at him and tilted your head back in laughter, by the way your shoulders shook up and down, from what he said. whatever he could've said, couldn't be that funny.

street racer! mark who watches the way your eyes lit up at the exact moment that you looked forward again, that he couldn't help but feel reassured in himself when you left with a quick goodbye to the guy behind you and made a full sprint towards mark.

"mark!" you squealed out in happiness as you opened your arms open as you jumped into mark's waiting arms for you. mark spun the two of you around quickly as he held you in a tight hug that he wasn't quite ready to let go of you. "hey baby." he greeted you before he placed a kiss onto your lips. "what are you doing here?" you said as you looked up at him with such an infectious smile that he couldn't help the way his smile grew wider. "wanted to surprise you baby." he said as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "ooh! a surprise, are we going somewhere?" you asked as you bit your bottom lip in excitement. "you could say something like that." mark teased you as he opened your door for you.

street racer! mark who lowkey disassociates as he drives on your way to your shared dorm room. he couldn't help but think about what he saw when he picked you up. something possessive paced within his chest, that honestly was slightly unsettling to him but he couldn't help but let the feeling grow and manifest inside of him.

street racer! mark who takes a detour from the original route that he usually takes to your place. he tried not to pay attention to the look you gave him from his peripheral vision.

⚠️CAN SKIP SCENE IF YOU WISH⚠️

"mark? why are we going this way?" you questioned quietly as you looked around the trees that were starting to surround you and the car. you were met with silence as you looked at the far out expression on his face. the silence felt so loud for you as you waited for mark to react to your question. as you opened your mouth to say something, mark suddenly breaks his car in the middle of the off-the-beaten road. silence once again takes over the two of you, creating a suffocating atmosphere in the car. you were about to speak up, but mark beat you to it. "surprise." he said in a mono toned voice. you felt a shiver run up your spine at the way he spoke to you. you've never heard him use this tone to you nor around you. it felt like a completely different person beside you. "surprise?" you questioned, afraid to add more to your question not knowing how his response is. "this is the surprise i have for you baby." mark said in a tone that was too overly sweet and it was starting to make you feel uneasy. "mark..." "who was that guy baby?" mark asked you as he tilted his head to the side, trying to seem innocent and curious. you studied mark's expression as much as you can as you tried to find some slip up on his end. seeing that he was being consistent with the front he is having, you sighed. "he's in a class of mine." mark hummed out as he looked past your shoulder with a small nod. "a guy from your class..." he mumbled out, still having that far out look on his face. when mark looked back at you, the look in his eyes almost made you flinch if he didn't reach over to you grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you forward. "why were you all smiles with him? don't you know you're mine? i don't get it." mark said as he looked down briefly before looking back at you. "why were you smiling at him?" he asked as he pouted at you. you honestly felt like you were gonna get whiplash. "i was being polite?" you questioned yourself at this point cause you didn't know how to approach it. mark just stared at you as the grip on the back of your neck tightened slightly as he adjusted his fingers. he reaches over with his free hand and grabs hold of you face, squishing your cheeks together to create an embarrassing pout on your lips. "get in the back seat." mark said with a side gesture of his head. you looked towards the small section of mark's car that he called his backseat. you didn't know what to make head or tail of. one part of you wanted to go cry about this cause you weren't sure where to put your emotions in, but the other part of you...she couldn't help but feel turned on by the situation you were in with mark. the way he let his possessive side show in such a raw way, made something primal rise within you. seeing that you weren't moving fast enough for him, mark repeated his command. "get in the back seat, baby." with a small gulp of uncertainty and of anticipation, you started to head towards the backseat. once situated in the backseat, you couldn't help but feel the tension rise as you saw the way mark was looking at you. a predator looking at it's prey. mark looked at you with such a predatory look in his eyes, pupils completely darken over with lust, it made you shudder and clamp your thighs together. he soon hoped over to the back seat with you and without missing a beat, he took hold of your ankle and yanked you down the seat to where he was above of you. a gasp leaves your lips as you looked up towards mark with wide eyes. without saying anything to you, mark takes holds of your hips and turns you around; ass up and face down. “mark can we please talk properly!?” you cried out as you tried to push his hands away from your hips as they tried to hook around the waist band of your skirt. "shh s'okay baby, i'm going to make you forget completely about your classmate." "mark! please..." you moaned out as you started to feel him play with your sensitive nub. "we're talking baby." mark said as he preoccupied himself with taking his half harden length out of the confines of his jeans.

“this isn’t how it’s supposed to be mark!” you cried out as you felt him push your panties to the side and start to rub himself against your slightly glistening folds. "i'd say this talk to going the way it's supposed to baby." was all he said as he continued to rub himself against your folds to the point where it was fully hard and dying to get inside of you. "besides you want me just as much as i want you. can't you feel how wet you are for me baby?" mark questions as he starts to tease your entrance with his swollen tip. you were completely torn. you didn't know what to do considering mark was not going to have an actual conversation regarding the situation the two of you are in. he just wanted to fuck this whole argument out of your system to get it over with and it just isn't supposed to be like that...you know this. but why was he making you feel so good about it. mentally you knew this whole ordeal was wrong but...physically you wanted him. you wanted to cry as you felt such intense and confused emotions, you just didn't know what to place what to what anymore. you truly couldn't find your voice in this situation, and it frustrated you to no end that you felt tears starting to sting your eyes. "please mark..." you whimpered out as you felt yourself starting to dissociate. "fuck baby, anything for you." mark said as he started to insert his length inside of you. as mark fully inserted himself inside of you he let out a pleasured moan, while you let out a whimpered cry. nothing that was happening to you felt real. absolutely nothing. mark continued pleasuring himself and you were completely disconnected. you weren't even sure if you actually came or you just faked it so it could be all over with. all you knew is that mark came inside of you, pulled out and covered you once again with your panties. letting his come ooze out of you and fall onto your panties, creating an uncomfortable feeling. "you're so good for me baby." mark whispered into your ear as he pushed your hair behind your ear and placed a chaste kiss on your temple. tears fell from your eyes as utter disgust consumed your entire being.

street racer! mark who has been noticing things have been rocky between the two of you since he picked you up from your class two weeks ago. but still has high hopes for the two of you as he sees that you are still reaching out to him in the best way you can.

street racer! mark who brings you to the car meets after the two weeks of rocky tension, to which he is completely happy and his "normal self" around you while he goes and does his races. and completely misses the way johnny watches your every move so he can have a chance to talk to you.

you were standing off to the side of the crowd in your own world as you waited for mark to finish his set races today. you were in your own world for so long, that you didn't notice that johnny has approached you until he waves his hand in your face. "oh..." you said softly as you blinked your eyes before looking up at johnny with a awkward smile. "hi, johnny." "hey sweetheart, you alright? i'm seeing you all alone and wanted to see how you're doing?" johnny says as he looked at you with a concerned look on his face. "oh i'm fine. just a bit tired from school and all." you said softly trying to shrug johnny off of you. "and mark's got you out here late? he should've just let you rest at your apartment." johnny said as he frowned his eyebrows. "yeah he wanted me to stay home and get some rest but i wanted to come out and support him since i know he has quite of few races set out for him tonight." you lied through your teeth as you gave johnny a smile. "you know..." johnny trials off as he rubs his hand on his chin before his gaze turned up on you. "...if you were my girl this wouldn't be happening to you." "excuse me?" you questioned as you felt a scoff leaves your lips as you looked at him in disbelief of what he just said to you. "i could be a better boyfriend than mark can be to you sweetheart." he said a he went to go and graze his hand on your face. you gently swatted johnny's hand away from your face before it made contact. "mark's not my boyfriend johnny." "oh really? he never made it official. this whole time i thought he has for the way he acts around you." johnny says as he rolls his eyes at the mere thought that mark has been with you for two months and hasn't grown the balls to make it official with you yet. "well...i'm not rushing him for making it official, johnny." you said as you took a step so you could create a space between yourself and johnny. "why are you even waiting when he's clearly comfortable in the position you guys are in." johnny says as he takes a step towards you, closing the space between the two of you. you rolled your eyes at him as you took a step backwards still trying to keep a good distant between him. not liking the fact that you keep distancing yourself from him, johnny takes hold of your wrist. "i could be a better boyfriend than him, angel." he whispers into your ear. "let me go!"

street racer! mark who finishes the first half of his races and looks for you the moment he parked his car. as he looked for you amongst the crowd, finally landed his eyes onto your figure. but what he saw was making him see red.

street racer! mark who sees the way you and johnny are both cozy against the other, as johnny holds you close to his form. even though he fails to see the obvious discomfort on your face, mark comes up with 1 to 1 million ways that this is you moving on from him and he just couldn't have it that way what's so ever.

street racer! mark who races towards the two of you. pushes johnny off of you and taking hold of your wrist in his hand and dragging you behind him to his car. damn the rest of the races he had planned out for the rest of the night...he wanted to deal with you.

"mark! slow down!" you cried out behind him as you stumbled on your steps as he was moving too fast for you to catch up to him. you were met with silence from him as he continued to drag you behind him. the only response you got from him was the hold on your wrist tightening to the point where it started to pinch your skin in between his fingers. the sensation causes you to wince. mark slightly faltered at the sound of your pained grunt, but continued pushing through the crowd towards his car. one you both made it to his car, mark opened the passenger's door and pushed you inside before he slammed the door shut. this causes you to flinch at the sound and the sudden jerked motion the car had due to the force of the car door slamming shut in your face. you honestly didn't know what was going to happen to you right now. you've never seen mark this mad before. yes...there was the instance with your classmate but this...this was a different mark. this wasn't the mark that you got to know. mark got into his side of the car with slam of his car door as well. without saying anything to you, he starts the car and has the car moving faster before you could get something into the tense air between the two of you. "mark—" "why do you do this!?" mark yells out as he starts to speed down the dirt road that leads out of the car meet. "do what mark!? what did i do?" you cried out as you felt tears sting the corner of your eyes as you felt yourself get frustrated as you knew where this was going to go now. "why the fuck were you so close to johnny? of all fucking people, him! you know how he makes me feel!" mark yells out as he slams one hand on the steering wheel. "mark...johnny was trying his usual shit on me yes! i was trying to get out of the situation but he wasn't letting me!" you said as tears started to fall down your face. "i don't fucking believe you." mark said with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. you felt your heart sink at the declaration he made about you. "are—" you cut yourself off as you felt a laugh bubble in your throat, letting yourself know that you are starting to fall into some sort of shock. "—are you fucking serious right now mark lee? do you FUCKING HEAR YOURSELF!?" you screamed out as more tears started to fall down your face in pure blistering anger. "i wouldn't be surprised if you've thrown yourself at him. i've seen the way you look at that motherfucker." mark says as he presses down on the gas peddle causing the car to jerk faster down the road. you looked towards the car's speedometer and was met with '100 mph' in bold, bright lettering. "mark slow down." you said as you stared at the speedometer and towards the outside of your window to see the dark sky and trees in a complete blur of speed. "mark slow down!" you cried out again. "just SHUT UP!" mark screamed out as he looked towards you with such intense anger in his eyes that you swore this man hates you from the way he is just treating you. you opened your mouth to say something but the next thing that you remember hearing was the sound of shattering glass and a gasp leave your lips, before your world goes completely black.

street racer! mark who groggily wakes up to intense bright lighting in his eyes, and he thinks that he simply left the lights on of his room again, until he starts to hear the slow beeping sounds around him.

street racer! mark who fully opens his eyes and takes in his surrounding to see that he is laying in a hospital bed, and his right arm is in a cast and a sling. he starts to wonder what happened, but all he can remember was the argument in the car with you and then everything went blank from there.

street racer! mark who gasps finally realizing that you were in the accident too and started to feel himself panic seeing that you weren't near him nor in the same room as him.

"you're finally awake." mark heard a voice say at the foot of his bed. mark looked towards the standing figure of his bed and recognized your best friend. he noticed the blood shot and puffy eyes she adored and couldn't help but assume the worst. "is she...is she—" "she's fine and thankfully very much alive, no thanks to you." she snaps as she gave him a look of pure disgust. mark rolls his eyes at her tone, but continues the conversation as if she never even spoke. "i want to go see her." he said as he tried to sit up but winces due to the sharp pain at his side. "you have bruised ribs, so i would lay down if i were you." she muttered as she sent daggers towards mark. "besides, i'm not letting you seeing her." she said as she crossed her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow towards him as if daring him to challenge her. "the fuck? i can see her if i want. you don't get a say in that!" mark said as he started to feel his anger get the best of him. "you are the reason she is in a hospital bed right now! you are the reason she has a fucking coma!" your best friend yelled out as she pointed an accusing finger towards him as she tried to hold back the tears that are stinging her eyes due to the pure anger she was feeling. "a c-coma?" mark said as he looked at her with wide eyes. "yeah, a coma. the doctors don't know when she will wake up...the chances are low."

street racer! mark who felt his entire self being shatter at the thought of you not remembering anything that has happened.

"a coma..." mark muttered to himself as he felt himself start to zone out due to the shock the news brought him.

ʚ a/n: to be completely honest with you, i wasn't really expecting to take it this way but i honestly like how it turned out because it adds a bit of drama to this fic and truly shows the persona i created for mark in this au. just wanted yall to go through what the reader goes through in seeing his true persona! lemme know your thoughts!!

⭑𓂃taglist: @hyuckshinee @yesohhsehun @sfsrm-blog @rockstarhaechan

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totalswag · 4 months

Text

nonsense — DREW STARKEY

authors note i've wanted to write a singer!reader drew fic for the longest time. i've read some singer!reader fics lately and it gave me some inspiration to write my own. i hope you guys enjoy reading. this was also requested by an anon not long ago, so if you’re reading this enjoy 🩵. the song choice is nonsense and just think to when sabrina is performing this song at coachella.

summary performing at coachella for the first time with friends and your lovely boyfriend supporting you in the crowd.

warnings none!

Coachella.

This is your first Coachella where you are performing. You will be playing live in front of millions of people. This is the last weekend for the festival.

Tens of thousands of people travel from all over the world to attend Coachella. The festival features sculptures, art installations, and other open events in addition to music.

When your manager called you about being invited to perform you couldn't believe your ears. Now, here you are about to step on stage.

Standing in a circle backstage with your crew, discussing everything you've prepared for over the last few days and having fun out there. This is what you always do before a show.

Second weekend of the festival.

Walking on stage seems like a surreal experience for you. Looking around, you can sense the intensity of the enormous crowd in front of you.

The weather was lovely, with the sun still shining and the breeze brushing over your skin.

"Hello Coachella, my name is Y/F/N, what's yours?" You smile into the microphone while waving away.

You began by introducing the crowd to yourself, your backup dancers, your music, if everyone is having a great time, etc.

Interacting with your fans is one of your favorite parts of singing on stage. You value your interactions with them since you like conversing. When you read comments on your shows, they usually mention how fascinating you are.

After singing a few songs from the set list, you took a little breather and spoke to the crowd saying a joke, making them laugh.

You begin the next song by sipping from an old-fashioned soda bottle while seated in a chair. As you take a seat, you glimpse your boyfriend, Drew, along with a couple of your friends and security.

You two make eye contact. Butterflies fill your stomach. You offer him a small wave, and he smiles and turns around, presumably blushing.

Fans up close captured the brief interaction with their phones out. We'll see it on social media later today.

Drew and you began dating in the midst of season three of Outer Banks. The first outing was Pougelandia, and fans began to speculate about your relationship because it came out of nowhere.

To be honest, Madelyn Cline and you were close friends before she began filming season one of Outer Banks. She’s the one who introduced you to Drew.

"The last song I'll be playing for you guys is nonsense, so if you know the lyrics, sing along," you cheer, lifting your free hand in the air, moving it around with excitement.

"Is it possible we get my amazing dancers out here," you turn around, pretending you have no idea where they went, "guys come out here, we could perform some sort of choreography, you know" as you gaze at your dance crew coming out the set.

Nonsense is about Drew.

It is one of your favorite songs that you have written. When you first released it, many were unsure who it was about until photos of Drew and you emerged.

Think I only want one number in phone

I might change your contact to "don't leave me alone"

You said you like my eyes and you like to make 'em role

Treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin' thrown, oh

You dance with your dancing crew, who are behind you and moving in sync. The choreography is muscle memory for you guys because you've been performing this song for a few years now.

But I can't help myself when you get close to me

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like "bleh bleh bleh"

I don't want no one else (no no) baby, I'm into deep

Here's a little song I wrote (a song I wrote) its about you and me

When you sing the last line of the pre-chorus, you gesture to Drew in the audience, who moves his head side to side while listening to you sing and blushes when you point to him. You giggle into the microphone.

Fans started cheering louder as they watched you motioning to your lover in the audience.

You continue to move around stage all throughout the song.

You go around the center of the stage as your backup dancers finish their final few dances. One of your backup dancers grabs a chair for you to sit in.

At the end of nonsense you always come up with rhymes. Started doing this after the first performance and can't stop doing it.

Told him he makes me weak to my knees

Everything about him just so dreamy

By the way he's name Drew Starkey

When you say your boyfriend's name, the crowd cheers. You saw his response as he mouthed the words "I love you," dropped his jaw, and put his hands over his heart.

"Coachella, you've been amazing to me these past two weekends. Thank you so much. Can we please give a huge around of applause for our amazing dancers, come on out guys!" Excitement in your voice when you call your dance crew out on stage.

Once you guys made it off stage, you guys began cheering with a bunch of energy. Everyone gave each other hugs.

"Water is calling my name right now" you groan with urgency.

Approaching your manager, holding a cold water bottle for you- thanking her a few times as you open the bottle. You were about jugging down the water when you heard Drew's voice approaching.

"Hi baby," you squeal, dragging the y in baby, and rush into Drew's arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Being in his arms sends relief in your body.

He smells so good.

He chuckles, "You did so well out there, so proud of you," and delicately places you on your feet.

"Thank you," blushing to the point where your cheeks were red. "Did you enjoy the outro of nonsense?" You inquire with curiosity, despite the fact that you already know his response.

He softly grins that makes your heart flutter, "Mhm yeah I did" kissing the top of your head, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"Why don't we get something to eat?" "How's that sound, baby?" Drew asks, his arm still around you.

Your ears and eyes light up from his request, “obviously yes.”

Before leaving you heard the voices of friends turning the corner. The rest of your friends, as well as Drew's cast members who are also your friends, returned to stage, thrilled to see you.

It was so good to see them.

Drew and you returned to the van to change, drove to the Airbnb to relax before returning to watch other artists perform after the sun had set with your friends.

my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@diqldrunks @chenslucy @winterrrnight @rosezza @solanathascientst @runningfrom2am

684 notes · View notes

disneyprincemuke · 10 months

Text

count on us * fem!driver

she often forgets that she’s got a support system she can ask for help from

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: stalking, mentions of violence, cursing

notes: i think it's so funny how i took so long to write this that i'm only writing a note like 5 minutes after posting this LMFAO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

sebastian looks up from his phone, the noticeable lack of a woman’s voice finally sinking in. now that he thinks about it, it’s been suspiciously too long for his driver to be missing.

he raises an eyebrow as he scans the garage for the familiar face, but alludes to nothing.

he presses his lips together, silently exiting the garage to find himself in the paddocks. sending her a quick text to ask her where she is, he puts the phone into his back pocket as he makes it a mission to find the small girl.

in the crowd of people who are heads taller than her, it’s deem an almost impossible mission.

“hey, seb,” max greets him with a nod and a smile, almost passing him nonchalantly.

until sebastian reaches out to stop him. “have you seen (y/n)?”

“i have not,” max frowns. “is something wrong?”

“yeah,” sebastian turns in a circle where he is, gesturing to the empty space by him, “my shadow is missing.”

max raises his eyebrows. “that’s true. she’s usually always around you.”

“if you see her, can you give me a call?” sebastian asks. max gives him a nod before bidding him a goodbye.

he spends the better part of the next twenty minutes trying to spot her, walking the paddocks twice for good measure. yet she is nowhere to be found.

he’s asked four more different drivers if they’ve chanced upon her presence, yet there is nobody that’s seen her.

not logan, and not even oscar. which is odd.

not even a response from you. so, he goes to the one place he hasn’t tried: her driver’s room. she doesn’t frequent staying in too long on media day, claiming that she’s trying to get used to the environment of formula 1.

which, is actually working. there are times she’s able to roam the paddocks and go to interviews by herself. but half the time, sebastian or someone else does an interview with her as a calming tactic.

he knocks on her door once and goes without an answer. he knocks another time before he hears shuffling from the other side of the door.

the door squeaks open, the shorter woman peeking through the small opening she’s allowed. “yeah?”

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere. why aren’t you texting me back?” sebastian asks, looking the door up and down. “and why won’t you open the door all the way?”

“just wasn’t feeling well,” she says softly with a sigh. her head is dropped low, as if to avoid any forms of eye contact. “my room is a mess.”

“you’re not well? why didn’t you tell me?” sebastian questions with the raise of his eyebrow. “can you let me in? let’s talk in private.”

she presses her lips together, as if considering her options. ultimately, she shakes her head. “we can talk here.”

“kid, you’re being very weird. i’m concerned and-“ he pauses, dropping his head slightly to meet her puffy eyes. “have you been crying?”

she tilts her head away from him and lets her hair drop to the side of her face. “none of your business, seb.”

sebastian sighs, leaning on the door frame. “if something is wrong, you can talk to me, you know? i won’t tell anybody.”

“just the hormones,” she croaks, still avoiding his eyes. “i’ll come out in a while for my interviews. i just need a while.”

he hums. “okay. i’ll be in the garage waiting for you, okay? text me when you’re coming out.”

“okay.” and then she closes the door on him.

oscar steps right by the garage’s entrance, careful not to cross the line that would consider him inside. “seb.”

sebastian pops up from behind the car. “oscar! what’s up?”

“(y/n) hasn’t been picking up my calls,” he admits with a sigh. “i’ve been trying to get a hold of her since we arrived on tuesday. have you got any idea where she is?”

“what?” sebastian glances at his watch. “she should’ve been out of her room by now. hasn’t she got an interview with you and logan?”

“that’s why i’m looking for her,” oscar frowns. “i had to ask lando to go first and cover for us. logan and i have been texting her but she never answers.”

“she’s been acting weird all day,” sebastian voices out in concern. “i swear she looked like she was crying when i dropped by her driver’s room earlier.”

“crying? that doesn’t happen often,” oscar mutters. “has she told you what’s bothering her?”

“she just shut the door on me and said she’d be out in a while,” sebastian shrugs. “what do you think is wrong with her?”

“i’m okay,” a small voice comes from behind sebastian. the two men turn their attention to her with puzzled expressions on their faces. “what?”

“no shorts for you today, mate?” oscar asks, eyeing her up and down. “it’s not that cold out today. why the sweatpants and jacket?”

“repping your team today, aye?” sebastian teases, reaching out to nudge her shoulder. “getting into the racing spirit, i see.”

“these were the only clean clothes i had in my bag,” she sighs, rubbing her eye. “i woke up late and i didn’t pack my bag last night. this was all i had in my driver’s room.”

“you could’ve asked me for a shirt,” sebastian shrugs. “you don’t have to get all warm in a jacket.”

“i’m alright, thank you,” she smiles politely. she grins at oscar. “we’re late for the interview, right? let’s go?”

oscar nods, watching in disbelief as she walks past him to get ahead. “yeah,” he says under his breath. exchanging a worried glance with sebastian, he quickly jogs to catch up with her. “hey, wait for me.”

“thank you so much for your time, and good luck for the weekend,” the interviewer smiles.

the three rookies mutter a mix of thank you’s. notably, the girl sat between the two boys stands up with her hands in her pockets.

“hey, are you on mute today? what’s got you so quiet?” logan calls out to the girl who’s already halfway out the door, slowly standing from his own seat.

“nothing, i’m just tired,” she answers monotonously, turning on her heel. “can you guys walk me back to my garage today? i know you haven’t in a while, and like, you don’t actually have to. i’m capable of walking the paddocks myself. but i thought it would be–“

oscar holds up his hands in front of her. “we’ll walk you back. no need to explain yourself.”

she huffs, dropping her head low again. “okay. thank you.”

logan raises his eyebrow. “you’re not fighting with me today?”

“just really tired,” she repeats, then putting the hood of her jacket over her head. “have you guys eaten? wanna go to the cafeteria with me and grab a bite?”

“i’ve got an interview panel in like 5 minutes,” oscar frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “i’m sorry. maybe logan can go with you?”

“i’ve got to film some marketing stuff with alex for williams,” logan mirrors the frown on oscar’s face. “how about we go dinner right after? it’s my last commitment of the day.”

“oh, mine too.”

“then that’s okay. i’ll just eat in my hotel room.”

the disappointment that laces her voice is prominent enough for the two young boys to exchange a worried glance.

so, logan bends down with a warm smile. typically, his snide remarks and playful tone would have been enough to get a confession out of her. so he takes the route. “where’s the remote for your chatterbox function? i want it turned up.”

“maybe tomorrow, logan. i’m very tired,” she dismisses the american, eyes still trained on her feet as they walk.

“come on, seriously,” oscar grabs her shoulders, planting her on the spot while they surround her. “what’s wrong?”

“literally nothing,” she glances up, looking into their eyes briefly. she drops her head once more and walks around them to continue making her way down the pathway.

“you’ve got to tell us someday,” oscar mutters to logan, following behind her. “you eventually give us hints, you know.”

“i won’t,” she whips back quickly, “because nothing is wrong. i’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“you’re not fighting with me, so i don’t know, dude,” logan whispers, eyes wide at her sudden change in behaviour. “not sure which version of you i like more. i miss your chaos.”

“stop worrying,” she huffs, coming to a stop in front of her racing home. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’m heading back to the hotel early.”

she doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on her heel to walk towards her doors.

oscar reaches out quickly, pulling her back towards them. “i’m only letting you go if you promise to stop ignoring our texts in the groupchat.”

“yeah, it’s sad talking to myself,” logan frowns. “oscar’s not a great texter. and he doesn’t even watch my tiktoks.”

“yeah, i do! i just don’t answer.”

“really? what tiktok did i send last?”

“that one edit about that banana cat!”

“liar! (y/n) sent that like a week ago! oscar!”

“well, you send too many! i can’t possibly sit down and watch 20 tiktoks, logan!”

“this is not what we should be worried about right now!” logan says, turning to the girl staring up at them with doe eyes. “watch my tiktoks. seriously.”

she smiles, yet the sadness in her eyes is so unmissable. “okay, i promise. and i’ll text you when i’m back in my hotel room.”

“you better actually text us,” oscar scoffs with an eyeroll. “i know your room number. i will come up and tear your room apart if you don’t.”

“okay,” she laughs. “i will remember to text you.”

she sits quietly at the dinner table, phone buzzing the table off as she continues to gobble down her chicken wing. she stares at the table blankly as she chews consistently.

“are you not gonna pick up your phone?” max asks, putting his spoon and fork down on the plate.

the constant buzzing had been going on for almost 5 minutes, and at first, he wasn’t going to say anything. but isn’t 5 minutes too long to leave your phone unanswered if there is a possible pressing matter at hand?

“oh, i’m sorry. i hadn’t noticed,” she says softly, grabbing her phone. she glances at the screen and all the colours from her face visibly drains and she puts the phone down on her lap. “sorry.”

“it’s something wrong? why didn’t you pick up?” max asks, continuing his meal.

“just the family groupchat going off as always after my interviews for the day,” she laughs nervously, returning to her state of blank stares and eating her dinner. “i’ll answer them later.”

“isn’t dalton gonna nag your head off if you don’t answer now?” oscar chuckles.

they had managed to convince the girl to come out for dinner. but it’s only sparked up more concern between him and sebastian as she opted to be out in her team merch again.

that’s after she swore up and down that she wouldn’t be caught dead in them in normal circumstances where they’re not needed. which also raised max’s eyebrows when he walked into the restaurant and was shocked by the striking purple that made their table stand out amongst the rest.

“he can wait a while longer,” she shrugs.

max pouts his lips. “why are you in team merch, anyway?” he asks, reaching out to pull on the material of her jacket. “you made fun of me for like 4 days straight when you realised i wear red bull merch too often.”

“i have to say i kinda get where you’re coming from,” she answers calmly. “they’re very comfortable.”

“comf–“ max looks around the table in disbelief. “you said that even if they’re comfortable, they’re not very ‘going out’ outfits. what?”

she turns to look at him, bored. “i changed my mind. you’re actually right.”

max sinks into his seat. “what’s gone wrong with the world?”

yuki had been minding his own business, scrolling on instagram when he heard a familiar squeak by a quiet corner outside the paddock’s gantries.

“hey, leave me alone!” a hushed voice says, before he hears shoes thumping against the floor. “i’ll give you the stupid pass if you never bother me again.”

“c’mon. that wasn’t the only agreement we came to. you have to let me take you out on a date,” a deeper voice says.

“yeah, not a chance! you think stalking me for two races and sending me unsolicited pictures would help your chances?” he recognises that voice.

he peeks over the corner, eyebrows raising in shock when he sees the driver push the unnamed man away from her.

“and if you weren’t scared of what i have in here,” he lifts up his hand to show her something, “then you wouldn’t have answered my messages.”

there’s silence for a while, before she grunts. “fine, whatever. here’s your pass. leave me alone in the paddocks, seriously.”

yuki studies the man’s face, before scrambling to walk away from where he is. he hums, walking as fast as he can to the gantry without looking suspicious.

when she pops up next to him, chest heaving with a sweaty forehead, she smiles. “hi, yuki.”

so he smiles back. “hi.”

and then he makes a sharp left after entering the paddocks, on his way to find max. the driver had mentioned the girl acting suspicious and asking a favour of him and daniel to keep an eye on her.

he never actually expected to be the one who find out.

“i think i know what’s bothering her,” yuki says softly, pulling max away from gp with an apologetic smile. he’s thankful that the engineers had been working on the car. he doesn’t have to hush himself so much after all. “i saw her… right outside the paddocks just a while ago.”

“seriously? you didn’t fucking tell us someone was harassing you?”

she sighs, arms folded over her chest as she looks between the men towering over her. she sinks into the comfort of her beanbag chair, defeated by their efforts to find out what’s wrong.

“and we had to find out from yuki because he was fortunate enough to overhear your conversation outside the paddocks?” sebastian shouts. “what the hell! that’s so dangerous.”

“he has pictures from my cloud, seb! that means screenshots of our conversations and my private pictures! i can’t risk that getting out! i’m hated enough as it is!” she explains, trying to reason out before getting another scolding. “can you please see where i’m coming from here?”

“no, because meeting him all by yourself is absolutely fucking insane!” logan throws his hands in the air, trying to make her see how ridiculous the whole situation is. “dude, you could’ve been mauled! nobody even saw you leave the paddocks.”

“imagine what could’ve happened to you? what would we tell your parents?” max adds on, hands on his hips. “this was very reckless.”

“i-“

“and if he planned to physically hurt you, what were you planning on doing?” logan cuts her off, hands on his hips as he grows more frustrated. “did you actually have a plan or were you just winging it?”

“it’s not even that. the way you thought this was even a good idea is beyond me!” sebastian tugs at the roots of his hair. “you should have told somebody!”

tears start to fill her eyes, lips pouted out as they start to quiver. the harassment had started about two weeks ago during their previous race.

initially, she had marked out the instagram dm to be from a spam account. until they sent her a picture only she would be in possession of: her and logan at a beach club from when he was 20 and she was 18 in barcelona.

suddenly the messages and the threats didn’t stop. she couldn’t only think of the repercussions it would have on her career, but everybody else’s who is involved in her life.

her cloud includes a collection of screenshots from their most ludicrous conversations and night outs.

“hey, i was only doing that to protect everybody i know!” she shouts, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “there’s pictures and screenshots i’m sure each and everyone of you would like out of the public eye! i’ve got a fucking video of you,” she points at max, “giving daniel a lap dance in zandvoort!”

she points at logan, “and you,” then oscar, “and you wrestling to push each other into the pool in your underwear from years back!”

she turns to sebastian. “and you drunkenly crying because you regret retiring from formula 1!” she pushes herself off the seat. “i didn’t know what else to do. i’m sorry, but i didn’t see it going any other way than me caving in to what he wanted me to do.”

“i don’t know, get a fucking lawyer and sue his ass?” max asks.

“yeah, i’ve not got the funds for that! thanks for noticing!” she screams at the older driver, stomping her feet into the ground. “god, i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

she looks at the man in the corner of her room, leaning against the wall staring at the ground blankly with his arms in the pockets of his shorts.

“well, you’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?” she points out. “nothing else to add on with everybody’s criticism of how i seem to have mishandled the situation?”

oscar looks up, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. he presses his lips together. “it was reckless,” oscar says. he shrugs when she prompts him for a longer answer. “it’s done and it’s over. let’s figure out how to get him to bugger off, yes?”

“yes, but you have got to realise how wrong this could have gone so easily,” sebastian sighs, slightly calmer than he was a few seconds ago. “come on. be realistic.”

she frowns. “i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

max sighs, walking over to her. he lays his hand on the top of her head and pats it gently. “i’m sorry for shouting at you. i was just concerned. something bad could have really happened to you.”

“i know, but-“

“it’s okay,” max soothes her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “you held a potential scandal off pretty well. but don’t do it like this again.”

“this is never going to work,” she mutters under her breath. after a wonderful qualifying session, she stands in her least favourite dress.

“it’ll work,” max mutters, “i’m max verstappen.”

“literally what’s that got to do with anything?” she scowls, extending her hand out to land a hit on his arm. “that name means nothing to this man!”

“you don’t know that. i’m a very powerful man,” max mutters dejectedly, hand pressed against his chest to feign hurt. “you’re not very nice.”

“shut up,” sebastian mutters, rolling his eyes at the two unlikely drivers to have gotten along very well. “we spent all qualifying session thinking of a way to get you out of this. be quiet.”

“fine,” she says softly, folding her arms. she takes a step back and sighs as logan takes her into his side for a comforting hug. “i didn’t know what else to do.”

“it’s okay,” logan whispers, rubbing her arm. “it’s over now. we’ll handle it for you.”

“i’m handling it for you,” sebastian mutters.

he straightens his shirt and stands a little taller as a figure comes down the dark alley of the paddocks.

“oh, you brought back up?” the man, who sebastian has come to know as ryan, grins. “big fan.”

“shut the fuck up,” max says, stepping forward when he stops in front of her.

“yeah, here’s how it’s gonna go,” sebastian says, pressing his palm into max’s chest to stop him. “you’re going to hand over that thumb drive or she sues you.”

he scoffs. “with what money? she’s only an underpaid rookie.”

“she’s got a whole grid of 21 other rich drivers ready to back this lawyer up,” sebastian says calmly. “don’t make it any harder for yourself. just hand it over before you get served.”

“i call bluff,” he shrugs simply. “you don’t want something like this out in the media.” he tilts his head to throw a teasing stare at the girl in logan’s arms. “especially not when it’s tied to her name.” he looks back at sebastian. “she wouldn’t let that happen to her.”

max clears his throat. “what if you just listen to us before we make this very difficult for you?”

“like how?”

“just trust me,” max smiles sweetly with a nod. “i can find ways to make life difficult for you.”

“what if i only leak pictures of her?” ryan grins, gesturing to the girl now throwing her head back in despair. “you’ve got good pictures, by the way. can’t wait to have you all to myself, you pretty little thing.”

“yeah, i’m done hearing this fucker out,” oscar mutters.

“oscar-“

logan is barely able to grab the australian’s arm before oscar has already lept forward to shove the man back.

“so i’ll make it difficult for you,” oscar smiles politely. his arm darts forward again, bunching up the material of ryan’s collar into his hands. he yanks him in. “i’m going to take that thumb drive out of your pockets myself, and then i’ll beat you with my own bare hands,” he points behind him, “while she watches.

“and then i’m going to get the best lawyer, find the judge, bribe them both and the jury combined,” oscar chuckles dryly, “put you in jail. and then i’m going to go in there and tear you limb from limb again.”

“ah, you’re too nice. you’d never.”

“say bet?”

“bet.”

“oscar, come on!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to yank him back. “you don’t beat people up! come on!”

“yeah, but i do!” max cheers, his hand darting out to shove the man back harder than oscar did. he stumbles a couple steps back and almost loses his balance, regaining it slowly. “i’ll finish what oscar started. come here.”

“hey, nobody’s beating this man up!” sebastian shouts, before quickly trying to lower his voice to avoid any unwanted attention. “listen, mate. i can make sure a court hearing goes by softly. benefits us, but gonna make you go broke. you decide.”

max lifts a finger into the air. “and don’t forget: i’m born petty. i already know where you work, so if you wanna keep that job…”

“and keep having a damn job for the rest of your life,” sebastian finishes max’s sentence. he holds his hand out, waiting for the item to be surrendered to him. “you know what’s best for you. come on.”

“fine, but-“

“there will be no buts, there will be no negotiations,” max grunts, rolling his eyes. if it weren’t for sebastian, he would have already given these three the show of their life. “you will listen to seb. end of story.”

“fine, whatever,” the man sighs, throwing the thumbdrive at sebastian. he tilts his head once more and winks at the girl. “let’s go for our date — that’s the one condition.”

“seriously, why haven’t you let me beat the crap out of this guy?” oscar asks ludicrously, throwing his hands in the air. he turns back to him. “we just said no negotiations. go and fuck off somewhere else.”

“and you better leave (y/n) alone because i grew up with brothers,” logan smiles, “i can fight.”

she moves her head lower, looking at oscar with wide eyes. she takes her spoon out of her ice cream cup and sways it in oscar’s field of vision. “hey.”

“yeah?” oscar asks, lifting his eyes from the table to meet hers.

“you mad at me?” she pouts her bottom lip out before dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for doing what you thought would help you out of a situation?” oscar smiles emphatically at her. he stabs his spoon into his ice cream and puts a firm grip on her wrist. “next time just come to one of us, okay? we’ll handle it.”

she presses her lips together as she sighs. “right. i forget that i don’t have to fend for myself anymore.”

“yeah. we’ve got your back. always,” oscar snorts. “you’re one of my best friends. logan and i would flip the earth for you.”

“likewise,” she smiles. “i’d help you bury a dead body.”

“maybe let’s not go that far.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @love4lando @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @cashtons-wife @bborra @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803

#sebastian vettel x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 fem!drive #fem!driver #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke vr #logan sargeant x reader

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transform4u · 3 months

Text

Mirror, Mirror on the wall...

Dylan, 32 years old and a rising star in the world of journalism, had finally achieved his big break after years of hard work. Now, he enjoyed a comfortable six-figure income, residing in a stylish one-bedroom apartment overlooking a serene park on Chicago's west side. He was known for his easygoing nature, a friendly demeanor, and a contagious laugh that invited others into his world. Dylan took pride in his caring disposition, always looking out for his friends and partners.

Despite his contentment, one persistent annoyance nagged at him: a particular guy on Grindr who seemed relentless in his pursuit. This individual, far from Dylan's type, exuded a flamboyance that clashed with Dylan's more reserved personality. His profile picture, donned in drag, irked Dylan every time it appeared on his screen. Yet, amidst his success and popularity, Dylan prided himself on being his own person—not conforming to stereotypes, but embodying a cool, composed image that he meticulously cultivated.

After a long day at work followed by a rigorous gym session, Dylan returned home to unwind. Just as he settled in, his phone buzzed unexpectedly with a message on Instagram—not from his friend Kyle about their usual happy hour plans, but from the persistent Grindr user. Irritated yet intrigued by the message's tone, Dylan hesitated before reluctantly opening it.

"Hey Dylan. It's clear now that you don't want to date me. And I'm totally fine with that. Maybe you think you're too hot or too cool or whatever to date me. But you've only lived one life. Hah. That's gonna change."

A doorbell interrupted his thoughts, drawing Dylan to the front door where a package wrapped in vibrant red packaging lay waiting. Curiosity overcame him as he brought it inside and unwrapped it, revealing a mirror shaped like a melting heart. Puzzled by its arrival and wondering if he had made a drunken purchase, Dylan decided to hang it on his wall despite its mismatch with his usual decor.

Upon hanging the mirror, Dylan discovered a small letter tucked within. Reading it aloud, he found himself drawn into an impulsive act—reciting the mirror's enchantment aloud, inviting a change he could not have anticipated.

Dylan stood in front of the mirror, mesmerized and slightly apprehensive, as the first effects of his impulsive incantation began to take hold. The air around him crackled with an electric energy, a sensation he could only describe as a tingling wave coursing through his entire body. It started subtly, a faint tremor in his muscles, like a dormant power awakening. He read a note:

"Dearest Dylan. I'm so happy you decided to hang up my mirror. I know how much you love to look at yourself. Hah. Well. Look deep into the mirror. And soon you love life will change. It's a going to be wicked fun. Just look at the mirror on the wall and speak aloud the following words…

Mirror, Mirror on the wall. Give me a life to be hated by all. Mirror, Mirror my face looking back at me. Give me the personality of someone I'd hate to be. Mirror, Mirror show my worst self. Mirror, Mirror change thyself" As he spoke the words aloud. The paper fell from my hands and the mirror glowed and glowed almost incasing my entire room. What had he done?

At first, Dylan relished the transformation. He watched in awe as his reflection morphed before his eyes. Muscles tightened and expanded, sculpting his physique into something that mirrored the fitness models he had admired in magazines. His abs became chiseled, arms bulged with newfound definition, and his biceps swelled with strength. It was exhilarating; a validation of the hours he had spent at the gym, honing his body to perfection.

But as the changes intensified, doubts crept into Dylan's mind. His initial thrill gave way to a growing unease. He remembered the words he had spoken to the mirror: **"Give me the personality of someone I'd hate to be."** Panic simmered beneath his skin as he realized the gravity of his request.

The mirror, now glowing ominously, seemed to reflect not just his physical transformation, but something deeper—an alteration of his essence. His reflection's smirk deepened, its eyes gleaming with a knowing malice. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this," the mirror whispered, its voice echoing with an otherworldly resonance that sent shivers down Dylan's spine.

As the transformation continued, Dylan felt an unnatural confidence surging through him, mingled with an unsettling arrogance. His once warm and inviting laugh took on a haughty edge. His friendly demeanor hardened into a dismissive smirk, and his generous spirit twisted into selfish impulses. The very traits he had prided himself on—kindness, empathy, humility—began to erode, replaced by a cold, calculating demeanor that he barely recognized.

Despite his growing discomfort, Dylan found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the mirror. It was as though he was watching a collision of his idealized self and his deepest fears, all brought to life by his reckless words. The mirror's reflection taunted him, mocking the person he was becoming.

In that moment of realization, Dylan knew he had to undo what he had set in motion. But the mirror held him captive, its eerie glow pulsating with an irresistible power. As he struggled against the creeping darkness within him, Dylan's heart sank with the weight of regret.

What had he done? And how could he ever return to the person he once was?

As Dylan wrestled with the unsettling changes in his demeanor, the transformation took an unexpected turn. The electric waves that had initially expanded his muscles began to reverse course. He felt a strange sensation of compression, as if his body was shrinking down, compacting itself while retaining the newfound strength and definition.

His arms, once bulging with exaggerated muscles, now tightened into a more refined and compact form. The exaggerated bulk softened, the lines of his physique becoming sleeker yet still maintaining a toned athleticism. Dylan's abs, previously sharp and defined, now settled into a leaner but no less impressive configuration. The transformation seemed to redefine his physical presence, sculpting him into a different ideal—a more compact, agile version of the muscular figure he had momentarily embodied. At first, Dylan didn't realize what was happening. His focus had been on the muscular changes wrought by the mirror's magic. But then, he noticed it: a gradual shrinking, a diminishment of his stature. Inch by inch, Dylan's height decreased, each moment bringing him closer to the ground until he stood at a diminutive 5 foot 4.

As his body underwent this metamorphosis, Dylan's skin tone deepened into a rich, bronzed tan. It was a stark departure from his natural complexion, now radiating with a sun-kissed glow that seemed to intensify under the mirror's eerie illumination. The mirror's magic continued to work its unsettling effects, altering not just his appearance but seemingly his very essence.

Dylan's gaze flickered down in shock as he noticed his shirt melting away, replaced by a garish gold chain draped around his neck. The chain, ostentatious and gaudy, clashed starkly against the more subdued attire he had preferred. It gleamed in the dim light of his apartment, a visible manifestation of the transformation's shift towards a persona he neither recognized nor desired.

The realization hit him hard. What had begun as a frivolous experiment had spiraled into something far more profound and irreversible. His reflection in the mirror now bore the mark of someone he might have once scorned—an exaggerated caricature of confidence bordering on arrogance, adorned with symbols of material excess that clashed with his previous understated elegance.

Fear and regret coursed through Dylan's veins as he struggled to comprehend the depth of the mirror's power. The once-inviting mirror now seemed to taunt him with each passing moment, its glow pulsating with a malevolent energy that mirrored the darker facets of his altered personality.

As he stood before the mirror, trapped in a transformation he couldn't control, Dylan's thoughts raced. How could he undo this? Was there any way to revert to the person he had been before his ill-advised invocation? With each passing second, the answer seemed to slip further from his grasp, swallowed by the insatiable hunger of the mirror's magic.

As the transformation continued, Dylan's mind began to fog up. His once-sharp intellect was dulled by a sudden influx of base desires and primal urges. The mirror's magic had not only altered his physical appearance but also rewired his brain, stripping away any semblance of rational thought or empathy he once possessed.

In its place grew an insatiable lust for women—their curves, their scents, their soft skin against his own hardened form. He found himself fixated on images of bikini-clad models and celebrities with impossibly large breasts and tight asses. His gaze lingered on every woman who crossed his path, imagining what it would be like to possess them in the most carnal sense possible.

His thoughts were no longer focused on intellectual pursuits or meaningful relationships; instead, they revolved around parties filled with alcohol and drugs where he could indulge in casual sex without consequence or commitment. The idea of settling down with one person seemed foreign to him now—a concept that held no appeal whatsoever in this new reality where pleasure was fleeting but easily attainable through superficial means alone.

Dylan's once-passionate love for men had been reduced to nothing more than a distant memory as he embraced this newfound heterosexuality wholeheartedly (or rather whole-mindedly). He found himself drawn towards masculine traits such as strength and dominance over feminine ones like sensitivity or emotional depth—qualities that were now deemed weaknesses by his transformed mindset.

As the transformation continued, Dylan's mind was flooded with more fuckboy thoughts. He found himself laughing along with the reflection in the mirror, which seemed to be enjoying his descent into shallow superficiality.

His flaws and memories began to change as well. His once-kind nature was replaced by a selfish and entitled attitude; he now believed that he deserved whatever he wanted without considering others' feelings or needs. His intelligence had been reduced to a basic understanding of popular culture and trends, leaving him unable to engage in meaningful conversations beyond small talk or gossip about celebrities.

The mirror erased any memories of Dylan's past relationships—both platonic and romantic—replacing them with fantasies about scoring hot chicks at parties or picking up women at bars using cheesy pickup lines learned from watching reality TV shows like "The Bachelor." His once-loving personality had been completely erased, replaced by an insatiable desire for attention from anyone who could provide him with temporary gratification or validation through social media likes or compliments on his physique which now included muscular abs but also featured excessive tanning.

As the transformation continued, Dylan became as shallow as possible. He wanted nothing more than to bang a hot chick who would make him feel like a real man. The image in his mind was that of a blonde bombshell with big boobs, toned abs, and an ass that wouldn't quit. She had to be tall enough for him to feel dominant over her but also petite enough for him to easily lift her off the ground during their passionate encounters.

Her personality didn't matter; all he cared about was how she looked on his arm at parties or how good she would be in bed (preferably multiple times throughout the night). He envisioned himself taking her out for expensive dinners before whisking her away to some exclusive club where they could dance until dawn while sipping champagne from flutes held aloft by waiters dressed in tuxedos.

The thought of waking up next to this perfect specimen of femininity filled Dylan with an almost primal desire—a need so strong it eclipsed any lingering traces of empathy or compassion he once possessed.

With his newfound confidence and shallow desires, Dylan mindlessly walked towards the nearest bar. He knew he would find plenty of women there who would be interested in someone like him—a tall, muscular guy with money to burn and a cocky attitude to match.

As he entered the dimly lit room filled with people drinking and dancing, his eyes immediately scanned for potential targets. Spotting a group of girls at one end of the bar, he made his way over without hesitation or any thought about being polite or respectful.

"Hey ladies," he said loudly enough for them all to hear as he slid onto an empty stool next to them, "what's up?" His tone was crude but laced with false charm as if this was something he did every night instead of being completely out of character for him just moments ago.

The woman he had addressed turned towards him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in his appearance. "Not much," she replied curtly before turning back towards her friends and continuing their conversation.

Undeterred by her lack of interest, Dylan leaned closer to the group and spoke directly to the woman again. "So what brings you girls out tonight?" He flashed a fake smile that revealed a row of perfectly white teeth now slightly yellowed from too much alcohol consumption over the years.

The woman rolled her eyes but didn't respond right away, instead choosing to ignore him completely while sipping on her drink nonchalantly.

Feeling emboldened by his new persona, Dylan reached out and grabbed the woman's ass without hesitation or consent. She let out a surprised gasp but didn't move away as he expected her to do. Instead, she turned towards him with a look of amusement in her eyes that made his heart race faster than it had in years.

"Well aren't you just full of surprises?" she said playfully before taking another sip from her drink. "I must admit, I wasn't expecting someone like you to hit on me tonight."

Dylan grinned widely at this small victory, feeling more confident than ever before as he ordered himself another round at the bar while keeping one eye on the group of women across from him.

As the night wore on, Dylan found himself growing more conservative and homophobic. His new persona seemed to thrive on these negative traits, embracing them as part of his identity. He began making crude jokes about gay people, laughing along with his friends at the expense of anyone who didn't fit into their narrow definition of masculinity.

His once-open mind had closed itself off completely, leaving no room for empathy or understanding towards those different from him. Instead, he focused all his energy on maintaining an image that would impress others—a tough guy who wasn't afraid to speak his mind even if it meant hurting someone else's feelings in the process.

Looking into the mirror, Dylan saw a reflection of himself that he barely recognized. Gone was the thoughtful, kind-hearted man he once was; in his place stood Austin—a tall, muscular straight fuckboy with a cocky attitude and an insatiable desire for women.

Austin's hair had grown out slightly longer but still maintained its sleekness thanks to regular trips to the barber. His eyes were now darker and more intense, reflecting his newfound confidence and willingness to take risks without considering consequences or others' feelings. His clothing consisted of designer labels that screamed "money" while showing off just enough skin to be considered tasteful by those who shared similar tastes as him.

Fuckboy Austin was the perfect embodiment of shallow, straight masculinity. He had an impressive physique thanks to hours spent at the gym each week, but he didn't let it go to his head—he knew he could always do better. His wardrobe consisted of expensive designer clothes that fit him perfectly, showing off his toned abs and broad shoulders while remaining tasteful enough for any upscale event or club scene.

His personality was just as well-crafted as his appearance; he had a cocky attitude that made women swoon but also came across as arrogant when dealing with others who didn't meet his high standards for attractiveness or success. He loved nothing more than hitting on beautiful women at bars and clubs before taking them home for a night filled with passionate sex followed by morning-after regrets on their part, which only served to fuel Austin's ego even further.

Fuckboy Austin lived a life filled with meaningless hookups, expensive nights out at clubs, and endless self-improvement efforts to maintain his perfect physique. He spent hours each day at the gym, lifting weights and running on treadmills while listening to motivational speeches on his headphones. His diet consisted mainly of protein shakes and pre-workout supplements that he believed gave him an edge over other guys trying to score with the same women as him.

Austin was also quite popular on social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok where he shared videos of himself flexing in front of mirrors or giving workout tips for those looking to get into shape themselves. His follower count continued growing daily thanks largely in part due to his good looks but also because many found inspiration in seeing someone so dedicated towards achieving physical perfection.

As far as hobbies went, Austin didn't have any real interests outside of working out or picking up chicks at bars; however, this lack of depth didn't seem bother him much since it allowed him more time focus solely on improving himself physically instead wasting energy pursuing meaningful relationships or intellectual pursuits.

Fuckboy Austin's life revolved around one thing: himself. He spent every waking moment thinking about how he could improve his appearance, his social status, or his chances with the latest hot girl who had caught his eye. His days were filled with trips to the gym followed by hours spent on social media, where he would post pictures of himself flexing or posing in front of mirrors while wearing nothing but a pair of tight briefs.

His nights were even more action-packed as he would hit up various clubs and bars looking for new conquests to add to his ever-growing list of notches on his bedpost. He had no qualms about using cheesy pickup lines or playing mind games with women just so they would give him their numbers or agree to go home with him later that night. Once he had secured a willing partner (or two), Austin would shower them with compliments and gifts before taking them back home for an evening filled with passionate sex followed by morning-after regrets on their part (which only served as fuel for Austin's already massive ego).

Despite all this success, there was still something missing from Fuckboy Austin's life—a sense of purpose beyond superficial pleasures like material possessions and casual encounters. Deep down inside, he knew that there must be more out there than just endless parties and meaningless hookups; however, those thoughts were quickly pushed aside whenever another beautiful woman crossed paths with him at some trendy nightclub.

#gay to straight #fuckboy tf #transformation #male tf

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mionemymind · 4 months

Text

Chapter 3: Choosing for You

My Rival Series

Series Summary: The time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

Chapter Summary: The competition is here. Who will be the winner?

A/n: This was a long chapter, honestly might rewrite it, but here it is with all its mistakes and glories. And I'm sorry if you've asked to be tagged and wasn't included in this post, I'm posting this from work because I promised to give y'all something. (Gif credits to @elizabetholsens)

Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing, Alcohol, Mentions of Puking, Memory Loss, Panic Attack

Word Count: 7.2k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Fall Semester - Freshman Year

“Why does winning matter so much to you?” Winning hardly had rewards in life. Sure, there was sometimes money involved on the line but other than financial gain, winning was mainly there to feed the ego. For Natasha, she never viewed Y/n as someone that cared about being number one in life. Based on the few phone calls she overheard, the university felt like a getaway from troubles at home. So why did Y/n even want to win?

The brown eyed girl sat in confusion. Her pencil was still as she wracked her brain for an answer. By all means, winning is fun. Back in high school, Y/n would naturally win things that being number one felt like home at that point. But having moved on from that mentality, winning wasn’t quite the same in Evergreen University. Well, it’s not like she had a chance to feel it when Wanda Maximoff was around.

“If I’m being honest…I don’t think I’ve ever worked for a win in my life before.” The two locked eyes as Y/n softly confessed what was long on her mind. She placed her pencil down and gave Natasha her undivided attention. “Studying has never been my thing before up until now. Don’t get me wrong, I quite hate it, but it feels different now. Like if I just beat her once, then that high will be like nothing ever before.”

“Does she really challenge you that much?” The question sunk into Y/n’s brain and into her deeper subconscious. She sat quietly, overthinking her answer.

“I think…she’s the only one that ever challenged me at all.”

Competition Day - Spring Semester - Junior Year

‘Why does winning feel so wrong?’ Y/n looked in the mirror, splashing small bits of water on her face to help wake herself up. Rolling her neck, she could feel how stiff her bones were from last night. Unfortunately, the bus was no help at all, only providing mild comfort on their four hour journey.

Stepping out the bathroom, Y/n wore the tightly pressed and cleaned uniform as Wanda started her speech for the group. “I want to thank you all for joining us today at this competition. For some of you, this is your first time ever attending the conference while for others, you are returning. Regardless, you’ve all earned your spots on this team, so congratulate yourself for that.”

A couple of applauses were heard as Wanda smiled at the team. She briefly glanced to Y/n who was sitting all the way at the back of the bus. “I know that this bus is carrying some of the brightest minds that Evergreen University has to offer. Without a doubt in my mind, I know we can win this competition.”

Y/n looked away to the view of the hotel where the conference took place. The turmoil in her gut was hard to ignore as she focused on other things besides Wanda’s eyes. ‘Winning is a must. If I want to come back to her here, then I need to win.’

“However, winning is not always the priority. Overall, I’ve been more than happy to see everyone grow into their strengths and even improve your weaknesses. Your efforts have been highly noted by both of your captains.” Y/n looked back at Wanda, her stare as confident as ever.

“We want to thank you all for all the nights, practices, and energy you’ve committed to be in this competition.” Wanda looked over as the bus entered the garage of the hotel. “Okay, everyone come in for a quick send off.”

Everyone gathered into a huddle, placing their hands in the middle. “On three - one - two - three - Evergreen! Fight! Fight! Fight!” Their hands lifted into the air as Wanda looked at Y/n with a determined smile.

‘I’m going to win.’ The brunette thought as she stared into those brown eyes, but little did she know the costs of this win.

The hotel was massive. It was honestly a surprise at how many schools can fit into one place. Some had to fly in, having been more than five hours away. The group followed Wanda to the selected tables meant for Evergreen University.

“Break into your groups, Y/n and I will be investigating the brackets to see who we will be versing first. We have about an hour before round one is officially called. If you need to change or use the bathroom, this is definitely the time to do so. If you have any questions or concerns, please let Y/n and/or I know immediately.”

Doing as told, the members immediately broke into their four person group and discussed strategies for round one. When no one came up to ask any questions, the pair walked off out of the conference room, and into the large hall that had many posters hung up with all the different brackets.

There was a small but comfortable silence as Wanda walked slightly ahead from Y/n, focusing on finding out who they were versing first. While Y/n was also thinking of the competition, she wondered if they were ever going to talk about last night.

Walking up to the first bracket they could find, Wanda took a picture of it and sent it to the math club group chat for everyone to see. “Princewell University, Maroon State College, and Gale College, not a bad start. Looks like we’re going to easily make it into the second round.”

Since Y/n was unable to sleep last night, she made use of her time by looking over the bracket. Going over the many possibilities, there was still a high chance of her group making it to the top five. Round one was thankfully full of easy opponents having judged their previous matches with other schools.

“I agree. Looks like our main trouble is with Harford University. But they’re all the way at the otherside. I’m hoping Legacy College takes care of them so we don’t have to,” Wanda comments. She turned to face Y/n, taking a good look at her clean uniform and brushed hair.

“I need you to be on your A-game today.” Unsure of where Wanda’s seriousness was coming from, Y/n nodded in understanding. “If you can give me that, I’ll overlook this morning.”

Puzzled by her statement, Y/n asked, “What are you talking about?” Wanda crossed her arms, trying her best to be level headed at the moment.

“You wreaked alcohol. Last night was a supposed to be a get together, not an opportunity to get drunk.” The judgment coming from Wanda’s tone felt like a slap in the face as Y/n took one step back.

“Are you kidding me? I took one drink. I wasn’t the one that was drunk last night. Are you seriously remembering the same night as me?” The small moment with Wanda was all that Y/n replayed in that moment.

‘Apologize and I’ll forgive you for everything - apologize and I’ll let go of this whole feud.’ Whether Y/n was going to loudly admit it or not, the small ounce that she saw of Wanda’s true personality changed her view of the brunette. Even if the conversation was small, even if Wanda didn’t hear her response, even if it was a drunk confession, Y/n was going to cling to it.

Wanda was always the girl that was number one but in that small moment, Wanda was just a girl who wanted to win for the sake of not disappointing her father. Because God, how could someone ever be disappointed in Wanda Maximoff? And how could they not see just how amazing she was?

But as Wanda rolled her eyes, and hardened her stare, Y/n knew none of that moment mattered to Wanda, not when her green eyes still showed some form of hatred. “I remember last night clearly. Everyone in the group arrived and managed to say check in with me. You were the only one in the group that I didn’t even get to see. Once it was late, I went back to my dorm and slept. But it’s obvious why you avoided me - you were too busy drinking rather than focusing on the competition.”

“That’s not-”

“I don’t want to hear your explanation. Your team deserves a good leader and if you can’t provide that, I’ll make sure that math club will be looking for a replacement captain next semester.” The pounding in Wanda’s head was hard to ignore as she walked away from Y/n, not even bothering to hear her side.

‘Focus. Everything will be alright if you just focus.’ The ringing in Y/n’s ears was louder than the judge in front of her. The question left his lips almost slipped past the girl but thankfully her teammate, Luke, was paying attention, easily answering the question.

“Another point for Evergreen University, which solidifies their victory for this match!” Cheers erupted from the crowd as each group got up, giving the other members handshakes for the great match.

‘I can’t fucking focus.’ Y/n wore a fake smile as she congratulated the other captain on the team, quickly walking off the stage. Ever since her interaction with Wanda, her nervousness and anxiety came back in full throttle. Her mind went from completely tired to panic. And while her drive to win increased, it came with overthinking as well.

“That was a great match everyone! I’m so proud of you all for being so great for these four rounds that I haven’t had to worry one bit.” Well Y/n did worry, just not for her team’s sake. “I’m going to go ahead and let the staff know about our victory. In the meantime, go ahead and relax at our table. After the fifth round, let me know if y’all want snacks. I can go ahead and purchase them for everyone.”

“Thank you Y/n. We appreciate it!” Luke stated, he was a returning member of the competition, one that Y/n knew well. Letting the group walk away, Y/n finally brought her guard down as she walked out of the conference room and to the direction of the staff booth.

‘I can’t believe I fucking froze.’ Y/n knew the question was for her, yet she had to rely on her team member for something she could’ve easily answered. Wiping her frustrations off her face, Y/n tried to compose herself before she approached the staff.

“School, team, and placement?” The lady wore rectangle shaped glasses. She offered Y/n a kind smile, ready to write the results.

“Evergreen University, team two, and we won our match.” Y/n peeped her name tag, Laura, as she wrote down the results.

“Looks like you’ll be versing Apollo College next in conference room seven.” Laura handed Y/n a slip of paper with the information before calling next.

Shoving the paper in her pocket, Y/n walked past several conference rooms, their doors open for anyone to watch their matches. None of them interested her, but her voice certainly did. Stopping at the entrance of the doors, Y/n watched Wanda flawlessly answer the question.

The bright light focusing on her group amplified her natural beauty. Y/n could pick up on every single detail, something she already knew like the back of her hand. Her jaw clenched as she noticed Wanda's smile, the same type of smile she had when she got hundreds on tests.

The anger inside Y/n manifested once more. She could legitimately feel herself start to boil the more she stared at Wanda. It was dangerously coming close to the anger she felt when she lashed out at Natasha that one night.

Clenching her fists, Y/n walked away from the match, unable to stand Wanda any further with thoughts of winning in her mind.

‘You’re making mistakes.’ Wanda stood in the crowd with her arms crossed. The displeased look on her face was hard to miss as she witnessed Y/n make her third mistake of the match, causing another precious point to be missed. Her brain rushed through many thoughts of disappointment towards the girl she used to hold to a high regard.

‘This isn’t like her.’ But the frown on Wanda’s face deepened, did she really know Y/n at all? Yes, she can admit that Y/n was smart. Smarter than a lot of people at their university. But other than that obvious characteristic, Y/n was admittedly someone she only knew at surface level. They’ve hardly spoken outside classes or math club. Essentially, she was just a stranger that was smart.

Shaking away the sadness that was snaking through her, Wanda watched as Y/n sat back in her seat.

The shame that Y/n carried on her shoulders felt massive along with the anxiety that continued to paralyze her more and more. The brown eyed girl was certain of her answer, so when the judge loudly announced that she gotten it wrong, embarrassment flooded her senses knowing that Wanda was in the crowd, silently judging her every move.

It all came down to the final question of the match. Whoever answers correctly will have to verse Wanda’s team. Luke, once again, got up, ready to answer the question. All eyes were on him besides Wanda and Y/n.

As the two finally locked eyes, Y/n couldn’t help but drown further in Wanda’s rage. ‘Forget everything I ever said - I do fucking hate you, Wanda Maximoff. And I hope you never forget that.’

-------------

“We need to talk.” Celebrations for Evergreen University were deaf to Wanda’s ears as she held Y/n’s wrist. Quickly, she led them out the crowd and through the near empty hallway outside the conference room. Dropping her wrist, Wanda stood there fuming with anger.

“What was that?” Y/n didn’t want to speak, unsure of what would be the ‘correct’ choice of words for the brunette. And by the looks of it, nothing was going to satisfy her. Choosing to be silent anger Wanda ever further.

“This isn’t the time to be childish - you’re making mistakes and if it wasn’t for your team, you wouldn’t have had this spot in the finals.” Y/n clenched her jaw as she bit her tongue. Sure she made mistakes, but it hurt Y/n to realize that Wanda didn’t even care for the ways she did contribute to the team.

Mistakes were permanent for the girl that was always perfect. That was something Y/n realized now more than ever.

“Can you not let go of three mistakes, Captain?” Y/n continued to stare off at the other side of the hallway, refusing to make eye contact with Wanda. Her words sneered off her mouth, feeling disgusted at the way Wanda ridiculed her every move.

“Un-fucking-believable. Dean Holloway was right.” At the mention of the Dean, Y/n’s blood ran cold. Her eyes locked with Wanda’s, as the brunette stood there. “You take everything as some type of joke. And to think I stood up for you.”

Y/n’s mind scrambled on what possibly happened between Dean Holloway and Wanda. ‘Does she know about my scholarship?’

But why on Earth would Wanda assume such things if she knew about her scholarship? Pressing for more information, Y/n asked, “What did he say?”

Wanda rolled her eyes. ‘Of course that’s what she would focus on rather than her own mistakes.’ Looking at the time, there were twenty minutes left before the final. The brunette should have been using this time to help practice with her team, yet here she was arguing with Y/n.

“Last week,” Wanda sighed. This all felt pointless to admit but she felt that Y/n needed to know. Maybe this could be what straightened up her act. “Dean Holloway asked me to reconsider your place in this competition.”

“What?” Y/n took a step back at the confession, feeling more hopeless at how rigged everything was. ‘How could he do this to me?”

“I told him that I could trust you - that you were the only person besides me adequate enough to lead the math club. Somehow, he managed to let me know that you were slipping in classes. No longer being at the top.” Wanda looked at Y/n. She focused on all the minor details of the face that haunted her mind. But upon seeing how hurt those brown eyes looked, Wanda couldn’t help but falter slightly.

“I wanted to believe that it was all wrong, but now…” Y/n silently pleaded as her mind went into overdrive. Couldn’t Wanda see how innocent she was? How she had been studying day and night for weeks just to make it another year at Evergreen? Couldn’t she see that this was all for her?

“I think we should go back to our groups. We need to prepare for the final. But Y/l/n…after this competition, we might have to reconsider your place as captain for math club.”

How cruel the world must be for the universe to deal Y/n such a bad draw? And how awful it must feel to know that Wanda was the one that delivered the final blow?

‘I have to win for me.’ Water dripped down Y/n’s face as she stared at herself in the mirror. There was five minutes left before she was expected to take the stage. Currently, Y/n was in the bathroom, hoping to subside the panic attack that was itching to come out.

‘Even if the school doesn’t want me, even if Wanda doesn’t want me, I want this more than anyone.’ Gripping the counter for stability, Y/n slowed her breathing down, hoping it would be enough. She wasn’t going to let the world decide her fate even if it had cheated her of a fair opportunity.

“Welcome everyone for the final match for the annual math club state competition. I’m thrilled to announce that this year’s top two teams both come from Evergreen University!” Applause rumbled throughout the large conference room as the rest of the school's watch in anticipation.

Wanda sat in her seat, overthinking her conversation with Y/n earlier. ‘Did I go overboard?’ Sneaking a glance at Y/n, it was hard to get a read of what the brown eyed girl was thinking. ‘Whatever, she needed to know.’

Pushing her thoughts to the back, the brunette focused back on the competition. It was finally her turn to go up as well as Y/n’s.

“Please find the inverse of the following equation.” Like a switch, everything in Wanda’s mind grew silent as she focused on the question on the screen. In seconds flat, she hit the buzzer to submit her answer.

“And the correct answer choice was…C, point goes to team # 1.” This was Wanda’s element - this was her reason for being. Glancing at Y/n, Wanda knew her purpose. She was number one and god forbid anyone that stood in her way.

The competition went by like a blur. In the first quarter of questions, Wanda’s team led with a gap of seven points. However, after a couple small mistakes by her team members, Y/n’s team was able to catch up and shorten the gap.

Right now, there are only five questions left. The score remained tied as Y/n tried her best to remain perfect. If things were to continue the way they were, the last question would determine the winner.

Before she knew it, it was finally her turn. Standing up to take the podium, Y/n glanced at Wanda accidentally locking eyes. ‘I will be the one to defeat you, Maximoff. I will make sure of it.’

Fall Semester - Freshman Year

“I’ve never seen you study so much before. It’s kinda freaky.” The two roommates sat around the small circular table in the middle of the room, enjoying a couple of drinks and snacks. Natasha begged for Y/n to stop for at least a small break, having missed talking to her roommate.

“Trust me, I hate it just as much as you do.” Y/n stretched her legs at her sat position. Rolling her neck around, a couple of pops and clicks could be heard.

“Why do it? Your grades are fine the way they are.” Y/n looked back at the pile of books on her desk. She never really recalled studying this much before during her high school days. Heck, she’s been able to get by this whole time just by how naturally smart she was. So when she looked back at Natasha, there was this ‘ya know’ look in Y/n’s eyes. “Does it have to do with Wanda?”

Y/n smiled at the mention of the brunette. It was odd at how many classes they were in together even though their majors were entirely different. There was something about Wanda that caught Y/n’s eye. She didn’t quite know what it was and didn’t quite want to delve too much into it.

“And if it does?” Y/n sipped on her drink, a smirk on her face as she avoided Natasha’s question. The red head shook her head, grabbing a chip.

“Well - you speak of her like she’s a God.” Eating a couple more, Natasha watched as the glimmer in Y/n’s eye brightened every time the brunette was brought up. Like the simple mention of Wanda could make Y/n smile instantly.

“Wrong, Wanda’s not a God. Gods make mistakes,” getting closer to Natasha’s face, the red head could smell the faint of alcohol on Y/n’s lips, “and Wanda Maximoff does not make mistakes.”

Y/n leaned back, still drinking the rest of her drink as Natasha looked at her roommate with a puzzled look. “Whatever you say. Just try not to make this a habit now.”

Y/n shook her head, feeling optimistic that she’d beat Wanda soon enough. Probably in the same semester. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in our state’s history the competition’s fate lied in the last question.” The crowd applauded for the accomplishment as the judges beamed in smiles towards Evergreen University. “.As your judges, we believe this calls for a special problem. We’ve rewritten the last question to make it a more challenging problem.”

“With one point in the lead, if Wanda answers the question correctly, her team will solidify the win. If Y/n answers the question correctly, this competition will proceed to overtime.”

Y/n and Wanda stood at their podiums, anticipation both killing them. “Here is your question.”

As the screen showed off the problem, Y/n could feel herself standing tall as she looked over the problem. It was a multistep calculus problem that involved finding the inverse of a 3x3 matrix. Essentially, a problem that would require two pages of work just to find a solution. And by the looks of it, Wanda was already finished with the first quarter of the work.

Calming her breathing down, Y/n cleared the noise from her head. She looked back at the problem, digesting all of what it told. ‘This is just another problem, Y/n.’ Thinking lightly back to the days where math was just a fun activity to do, Y/n finally smiled, remembering the feeling where math naturally came to her.

Letting the feeling sink in, Y/n started to solve it. The crowd waited with whispers and talks of who was going to win. Many people in the crowd believed Wanda would secure another victory as she did in the past. Very few people cheered for Y/n, simply wanting to believe in the underdog.

A few minutes later, Y/n approached the final bits of her answer, immediately eyeing the answer choice on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat realizing that she could do this - that she could win.

Before she could reach out for the answer, Wanda had buzzed in first with her choice. Suddenly, everything inside Y/n shut down as she saw Wanda smile once again. It was that infamous smile that she grew so used to.

‘This can’t be it. This can’t be the end.’ Feeling herself lock up again, Y/n didn’t dare to look at the screen, hoping to save some of her dignity that was barely left.

Believing the world to be crashing in front of her, she failed to realize that Wanda had made a mistake. The screen glowed in bright red as her answer choice was incorrect. “Y/n, looks like the question is left to you. You haven’t locked in your answer, so what will it be?”

Y/n looked up, unable to digest that Wanda actually messed up. The Wanda Maximoff made a mistake. Fighting back the smile on her face, Y/n reached out for the correct answer choice, her finger tips grazing answer choice B.

The smug look on her face was hard to miss. Everyone on her team knew they would come home with the victory. Wanda’s team sighed in defeat knowing that Y/n would answer correctly.

So why did everything change when Y/n glanced at Wanda? Why did her heart hurt at the sight of Wanda spilling angry and frustrated tears? Why did her breathing stop? And why did all thoughts consume her?

Wanda never cried or at least in front of Y/n or anybody. She was always the strong and confident girl that knew every answer for every question. She walked like she was untouchable. So how did she mess up?

‘Please stop crying,’ she thought. Her heart constricted knowing she was the reason Wanda was crying. Yet every ounce of her brain yelled for her to press the damn answer, to finally prove to Wanda that she could be defeated, to finally get the win that she had been craving for since freshman year.

So why couldn’t she just fucking press it? Looking back at the crowd and at the answer written down on her paper, her free hand crumpled the sheet as her heart overtook what her mind pleaded.

Feeling like time stopped, Y/n held her breath when those green eyes locked with her. ‘I want to win…I want to stay…but at the cost of this…this isn’t a win.’

Beyond logic and reason, Y/n pressed her answer. Confetti blew in the air as the judge announced, “And the winner is team # 1 with Wanda Maximoff as their team captain. Congratulations to Evergreen University!”

Regardless of what Wanda had ever done, said, or thought, Y/n knew that today was all because the school wanted to so badly pin Wanda against her. But Y/n finally knew better. This will not be the day she wins. This will be the day she was finally okay to be second to Wanda.

Many cheers and laughter filled the bus as the group celebrated the Evergreen University win. Wanda had been smiling so hard since the award ceremony that her cheeks started to hurt.

As she looked over the trophy, her eyes couldn’t stop looking at the sleeping figure near the back of the bus. ‘I almost lost it,’ Wanda thought. It was unlike her to make a mistake and if she was being honest, she didn’t know what to blame.

As much as she wanted to overlook her work, she wanted to leave that mistake in the past and enjoy the win. But as she kept looking back to Y/n, who hadn’t said a word to her since the final match, Wanda couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong.

Regardless, the drive back to Evergreen was filled with joy as Y/n finally slept after a long exhausting day.

Finals Week - Spring Semester - Junior Year

Wanda loved winning…but lately, it had a sour taste in her mouth. Finals week came in full swing, giving zero time for Wanda to dissect this weird feeling in her chest. She had helped some of her friends and classmates with studying, making her even more busy than usual.

By the time she was done with tests, the sour feeling still sat in her chest. With only two days left, Wanda couldn’t help but lose some sleep over this feeling. Why was winning suddenly so bad? When did it become something she felt guilty for?

Subconsciously, her mind gravitated towards Y/n. In her dreams, the moment before Y/n answered the final question replayed constantly. It was as if her mind took a vivid recording of the whole interaction. And as she replayed the moment she locked eyes with Y/n, Wanda couldn’t help but feel like the trophy wasn’t meant for her.

Of course she downplayed the scenario, believing that this was another mistake that Y/n had made for that day. And the words of Dean Holloway, this was something Y/n never took seriously. So why did she vividly remember how Y/n’s eyes looked the moment she had chosen her answer? Why did Y/n look so accepting of defeat? Why was there no anger or thrive behind them?

And the more she thought, the more she realized how little she saw of Y/n during the whole week. Friday, the last day of the semester, came around. During the test, her mind suddenly diverted to her. So when Wanda looked up and found Y/n in the crowd, she couldn’t help but want to talk to her, to see what exactly happened in that moment.

Was it something she made up in her head? Was she feeling weird for actually making a mistake in front of people? Was this blown out of proportion?

Regardless, Wanda didn’t dare describe this feeling as part of missing Y/n. Cause if she had, maybe she would have realized sooner that winning felt wrong this time. Because maybe, just maybe, it had pushed away the person that actually understood her better than anyone else.

Last Night - Spring Semester - Junior Year

Y/n Y/l/n,

We regret to inform you that your scholarship has been revoked for the following 2019 fall semester. This decision was not made lightly as the board is aware of the accomplishments you’ve brought to Evergreen University. Nevertheless, the requirement to place #1 in the most recent STEM competition was something we could not ignore.

We do hope you decide to enroll for your senior year. For further information on financial aid or loan applications, please visit the Bursar’s office.

Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences

Cedric Holloway

Evergreen University

The letter sat on the Y/n’s near empty desk as she continued to pack in preparation for tomorrow. It was the last night on campus for every student. While many chose to celebrate it with a party, Y/n chose to spend it alone.

The silence of her room provided some comfort as she cleared her bookshelf. “Why must I have so many books?”

While Y/n never imagined this would be where her college career with Evergreen ended, she certainly never regretted her choice. Then again, she hadn’t been home in forever, so that may change soon once she goes back.

Looking back at Natasha’s fully furnished side, Y/n could feel some guilt rising to her chest as she hadn’t broken the news yet to her best friend. Not wanting to burden the red head with a sad night, Y/n remained silent, hoping tomorrow would be best to break the news.

As for Y/n’s group, none of them were particularly angry about her mistake. Everyone tried their best to cheer their captain up, providing some comforting smiles and words. None of it truly mattered though. This was Y/n’s choice to make and she fully knew the consequences of it.

So for the first time in a while, Y/n was actually alone and not studying. That was until she came. Wanda stood in the hallway, thinking of how she would talk to Y/n, to hopefully apologize. She carried the trophy that was mailed in from the conference, one that actually had her name engraved on it.

But the trophy felt heavy and awkward in her hands, but it was the closest thing Wanda could think of as a conversation starter. Pushing her anxieties away, Wanda walked to Y/n’s dorm, surprised that the door was actually opened.

The first thing she noticed was the pile of boxes that almost blocked the doorway. Looking past it, Wanda couldn’t help but notice how bare Y/n’s side looked.

“What are you doing?” Y/n jumped from the corner of her room, hand on her chest.

“Jesus Christ, Maximoff, can you give a girl a warning?”

Wanda placed the trophy in the hallway, and walked around Y/n’s room, not caring for an invitation inside. Thinking back to the dorm setup, Evergreen University typically had students stay in the same dorm assigned to them from freshman year all the way to junior year. During senior year, students would be upgraded to bigger dorms.

“I thought you couldn’t transfer dorms till senior year was closer?” Wanda turned around to face Y/n, the empty side didn’t make sense as juniors typically left their items alone throughout the summer.

Y/n’s eyes glanced at the letter on her desk. “I’m moving to a new scenery.” She picked up the box with her knick knacks and placed it on top of the letter, hoping Wanda didn’t notice. The brown eyed girl leaned against her desk. She tilted her head noticing the shiny object in the hallway.

“Is that the trophy?” Wanda looked back, almost forgetting what she came here to do. She walked back to the hallway and grabbed the trophy. Their fingers brushed as Wanda handed it to Y/n. “Wow! It’s…it’s really beautiful.”

Y/n rubbed her thumb across Wanda’s name. Wanda Maximoff 2019 Champion. “Congratulations by the way. Sorry I wasn’t able to say it back on stage.” Y/n handed the trophy back to Wanda. If the girl was paying attention, she would’ve noted the odd look Wanda gave her.

Something was different and Wanda hated it. Winning always gave her a high but something about this interaction increased the bittersweet feeling in her chest. “What dorm hall are you relocating to?” Wanda placed the trophy on Y/n’s desk. “I could help you out if you need it.”

Already ready to help out, Wanda lifted the box of knick knacks, her fingers brushing over the letter. “Wanda-,” Y/n startled herself, not expecting to nearly yell at Wanda, “I- I -”

No words left Y/n’s mouth as those green eyes stared back at her. Suddenly, all those times where they yelled in each other's face came to mind. How close were they to ever…?

Y/n sighed, there was no use hiding from the truth now. “I’m actually going back home.” Wanda placed the box back down, still not understanding why Y/n’s things were packed. “I’m-”

Y/n scratched the back of her neck, avoiding Wanda’s stare. “I’m transferring to Langford University.” An eerie silence settled in Y/n’s room. So when Y/n got the courage to look back at Wanda, she hadn’t expected the teary eyes and offended look on Wanda’s face.

“You’re transferring? Why?” Moving off the desk, Y/n sat on her bed as Wanda leaned back on to the desk. “It’s - complicated. I really don’t want to go into it.”

Wanda’s hand balled up into a fist. The lack of details pissed her off. “You’re seriously not coming back?” Wanda hated how bitter everything tasted. The sight of her trophy pissed her off even more.

Y/n opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to say. She was leaving what she called home for the past three years. Not only that, she was leaving the girl that has been there since her first day. What could she even say?

Before she could admit anything, Y/n’s phone rang, breaking the tense atmosphere. “Sorry, let me take this real quick.” Y/n walked out to the hallway to answer her phone.

Wanda sighed with her head hung low. What was she going to do now? Being #1 was something her parents always pressured her to do. But ever since she met Y/n, #1 was something that motivated her to get out of bed and start the day extra early. Meeting Y/n meant countless hours studying just to make sure she knew the lessons by heart. Meeting Y/n meant her life revolved around beating the girl in every single thing. And as harsh as it sounded, it was the only way Wanda knew to get closer.

She turned around and glanced at the open box. There was a various amount of figurines, crystals, and journals thrown in. Wanda picked up a green crystal, one that almost matched her eyes. She remembered the day back in freshman year where Y/n had admitted she recently got into collecting crystals. Wanda thought at first it was a waste of money until she stopped by a local shop.

The red head could see why it was intriguing to buy them especially when you believe the auras and specialities that a certain rock can bring to your life. So in secret, Wanda bought a sphere of rose quartz and placed it in her room. She didn’t notice anything different in her life but then again, all her thoughts already surrounded Y/n.

Wanda looked back at the hallway and could hear Y/n still talking on the phone. It felt wrong to steal, especially since that was a no no in the crystal community. But the idea of Y/n leaving her without a single thing to keep for herself felt cruel. So when she slipped on the necklace, as if it already belonged to her, she could feel her heart skip a beat at the thought of Y/n giving it to her.

Wanda tucked the crystal under her shirt when her fingers brushed the letter once more. The school logo printed on the top right called her name. It felt wrong to intrude, but the more she reminded herself of the situation, the less she cared about her morals.

Gently sliding the letter from under the box, Wanda quickly read it. Eyebrows furrowed, Wanda read “We regret to inform you…”

Y/n shuffled back into the room causing Wanda to straighten up. “Sorry about that. I need to get Natasha. She’s stuck at some frat party without a ride back home.” The brunette crumpled the piece of paper and tucked it into her pocket. Y/n was too distracted to notice. “Again, I’m really sorry but congratulations on the win Wanda.” Y/n looked at Wanda with the most sincere eyes. “Incase no one has told you, I’m really proud of you.”

With one last look, Y/n left her dorm, hoping the Wanda would be decent enough to lock it up for her. And all Wanda could focus on was the sound of her name leaving Y/n’s lips. ‘You never call me Wanda.’

‘Like hell I’m going to let this happen.’ Wanda stormed into her father’s office, knowing he would be working another late night. The clear warm glow from his room indicated that he was there.

Storming through the doors caused him to look up from his computer, clearly unexpecting guests at that moment.

“Give her scholarship back.” Wanda slammed the letter onto his desk, crossing her arms hoping to show that she wasn’t messing around. The brunette couldn’t think straight about anything after she fully read the letter, and by now, she didn’t know whether to strangle Y/n for not telling her or for her father to even approve such decisions.

“This decision was not made lightly.” Wanda could read past her father’s sentence and she was not going to take no for an answer.

“Then clearly you’ve made the wrong decision.” Eric sighed knowing just how stubborn his daughter was. It was unfortunately a trait she got from him. Knowing fully well just how smart Wanda was, explaining this decision was going to be a disaster and a headache away.

Looking past the letter and into his daughter’s eyes, he’s never seen her be this angry. Sure they’ve had arguments, but they’ve subsided ever since she started to attend college. Eric was hoping it was because Wanda was getting older and more mature.

But as she stood there, eyebrows furrowed with a frown on her face, it felt like she was 16 all over again. Not wanting to beat around the bush, Eric figured to cut to the chase.

“She’s a threat.” He didn’t like to admit it, but there was hardly anyone on campus that could match his daughter’s intelligence. This was something Eric wanted to keep. But the more he noticed Y/n move up on the Dean’s list, the more he feared Wanda’s spot would be threated. While he was confident in his daughter’s ability, he simply wanted to keep her spot safe. And that meant dealing with Y/n.

“She’s my equal.” All the guilt from the competition finally made sense. And as more things continued to click, the more Wanda stood in horror at the things she said to Y/n. This was all starting to become a nightmare, one that Wanda prayed to go away. But the look on her father’s face pissed her off even more. “If you don’t, I’m transferring. And there’s nothing you can do that will stop me.”

Giving him no time to respond, Wanda walked out of the office. There was no time to think about her ultimatum, not when all she could think about was Y/n.

‘Say something to her, Wanda, for fucks sake.’ It was finally the last day of the semester. Every student was mandated to leave by a certain time. While there was a large crowd of kids with their backpacks and suitcases, all Wanda could focus on was the goodbye happening between Natasha and Y/n.

The brunette had stayed up all night figuring out ways to get Y/n’s scholarship back. At one point, she even considered paying for Y/n’s tuition herself if it meant getting her to come back. But her father would immediately block her allowance if he caught wind of this.

So far, she hadn’t gotten a response back from him. ‘Maybe he needs more time.’ But time was running out as Natasha helped Y/n with the last box. Percy was already in the driver seat, ready for the long drive back home.

She could overhear their goodbyes and that Natasha would visit soon to hear the full story. But still, Wanda stood paralyzed, unable to move. ‘What if she doesn’t want to see me? What if I was too mean to her?’

And as Y/n got into the car, waving her goodbyes, Wanda stood behind the tree, clutching on to the only thing she had of Y/n. Tears quietly fell down her cheeks, a lingering question on her mind. ‘Did I push you away when you needed me the most?’

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #My Rival #Rivals to Lovers #college au wanda maximoff #College AU #college!wanda maximoff #marvel #mionemymind #academic rivals

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evangelical04 · 5 months

Text

A Single Daffodil || 3

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 11.9K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut, body image issues

Author's Note: is this being posted over a week late? yes but I'm in the middle of exams at the moment eek! on the bright side, I'll be able to work on this more often after this week since most of my exams will be done! and then I have about a month until my job starts so I'm planning to grind!! all that aside, we get to see them get married here, so exciting!! yoongi seems to be having second thoughts hmmm interesting. let me know what you guys think! i love to hear your feedback <33

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee

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You nervously smoothed out the skirt of your dress in an effort to calm your nerves but found little success. The day of the rehearsal had come and in less than twenty-four hours, you were to be married. Your hands shook as you grasped the door handle of the entrance to the banquet hall. Hoseok laid a comforting hand on your shoulder before shooting you a reassuring smile. He had decided to attend the rehearsal at your insistence, citing seeing Joohee again as the reason, though you knew he could tell how worried you were.

Mustering a small smile in response, you pushed open the door to see the ceremony space set up with nauseatingly bright flowers and ornate, crystal-laden light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. The chairs were decorated in satin sashes with gold embroidery and the altar was woven around with glittering flowers. Your mother was standing at the edge of the aisle, speaking to the catering service employee. She was dressed impeccably as always, her commanding presence demanding that you look at and respect her. Your father was sitting in one of the satin chairs, scrolling dully on his phone. Your mother noticed you standing by the door and quickly beckoned you over.

As you approached, Hoseok following close behind, you noticed something at the end of the room. Standing at the end of the aisle was Yoongi, clad in the normal black suit you’d seen him in thus far, with his tie loosened and hair ruffled. He was speaking to his mother, who was adjusting his blazer, and his father, who stood off to the side, distantly nodding along. He had yet to notice your arrival, but you were fully enraptured by him. This was what you had been dreaming of since you’d met Yoongi outside that party so long ago, walking down the aisle to see him at the other end, promising your lives to each other in an act of fierce and nurtured love. But that wasn’t what was happening. Hoseok’s grip on your shoulder grounded you as you approached your mother. You could feel his arm laying across your shoulder blades and hanging loosely, but comfortingly, in an effort to brace you for your mother.

“Nice to see you finally made it. You must’ve been in a rush if you only had time to choose that outfit,” your mother stated, not bothering to properly greet you or acknowledge Hoseok. She knew who he was and she didn’t approve of your close relationship with him, but she knew that she couldn’t say anything out loud lest her image be tainted, which is what you were banking on.

Feeling Hoseok’s grip tighten at your mother’s careless words, you tried to subtly placate him, “Hello, mother. I’m sorry I’m late. Will we be starting soon?” Your mother only nodded curtly before turning away to speak to more of the venue employees. You let out a heavy breath before sitting down at one of the nearby chairs, not making an effort to try and greet your father. It’s not like he’d acknowledge you anyway.

“God damn, you need therapy,” Hoseok whistled lowly.

You let out a tired laugh, pulling him down to sit next to you, “Yeah, but we knew that already. Are you sure you’re up to face these guys? It can be a lot.”

Hoseok nodded, smiling kindly at you, before squeezing the hand you pulled him down with, “Of course, I am. I said I was here for you and I meant it.”

You grinned, having missed his fervent support and soothing touch, “Thanks, Hobi. You’re the best.” Hoseok only gave you another squeeze in response.

“Wow, I’m offended,” came a voice from behind you, “I thought I was the best.”

You and Hoseok turned to find Joohee in a simple dress, hands resting on her hips. Smiling up at her, you nodded, “You know you’re in a league of your own. Hobi can’t even compare.”

Hoseok scoffed incredulously, “You’re so fickle, how could you call yourself my friend.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you leaned back in your chair with Joohee joining, sitting on your other side. Your eyes drifted back to Yoongi, and you startled, finding him looking right back at you. He casually shifted his gaze back to his mother, who was still speaking to him, not sparing you another glance.

“So, that’s him?”

You turned towards Hoseok, whose gaze was pointed at Yoongi’s form. You nodded, “Yeah, that’s him. My…fiance.”

Hoseok studied your sullen form for a moment before grabbing your shoulders and giving you a friendly squeeze, “At least he’s hot!”

Joohee and you laughed at his antics before hearing the large, wooden doors to the entrance open once more. A group of handsome men entered, about four, only one of whom you recognized as Joohee’s older brother. The group approached, laughing together while walking towards Yoongi. Joohee stood, shouting Seokjin’s name, calling him over to your small group. Kim Seokjin smiled at the sight of his sister before breaking off from the group, one of the men following after, while the others continued to Yoongi.

“Hey, Joo, how’s it going,” Seokjin smiled easily, ruffling his sister’s hair. She swatted at him before answering, “Good, but mom’s been on my case lately to come home.”

You looked on in envy, wishing you had a similar, friendly relationship with your own brother. Kyungsoo was nice enough to you, when he cared to acknowledge you. He had been primed by your parents to take over their company since he was young, but they’d made sure that the two of you had stayed competitive academically. Even though you were younger, you tended to do better in your studies, something your parents never let Kyungsoo forget. As a result, he’d grown extremely distant with you and you rarely spoke now. Actually, you weren’t even sure if he was coming to the wedding.

“There’s the bride-to-be! How are you feeling,” Seokjin’s voice boomed, snapping you out of your daze.

You smiled politely at him, “Hi, Jin oppa, it’s nice to see you. I’m feeling alright, as well as I can.”

Seokjin nodded sympathetically, “I know Yoongi hasn’t been the best, but give him some time to adjust. If he’s still an ass after that, let me know and I’ll beat him up.”

You laughed as he puffed out his chest and raised an arm to display his muscles. Joohee rolled her eyes before punching him lightly in his side, “Oppa, no one wants to see that. Here, let me introduce you to Hobi.”

Hoseok stood to greet the older man, no longer obstructing your view of the other man who had followed Seokjin out of the group earlier. He was quite tall, though not as tall as Seokjin, and well built, with tattoos flowing down his hands, curling around the small wrinkles of his fingers. His shaggy black hair framed a boyish face that wore a polite smile. Why did he seem so familiar?

“Jeon Jeongguk,” you blurted out, almost stumbling to stand and confirm your suspicions. He turned to face you, with you now realizing that it was, in fact, the same streamer you’d been following for the past few years. You hadn’t recognized him immediately without his usual garb of sweatshirts, headphones, and piercings littering his face.

“Hi, you’re Seo Y/N, I assume,” he smiled, eyes crinkling. Feeling slightly starstruck, you nodded dumbly.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Kook, she’s a big fan of yours. She watches your streams all the time,” Joohee interjected. Your gaze shot towards her, sending her a silent message.

You know him? And you didn’t tell me?

Joohee only shrugged sheepishly, Sorry, must’ve slipped my mind.

You gritted your teeth, I’m so interrogating you later.

Jeongguk’s voice called you back to him, “Really? That’s cool, I always love meeting fans.”

Feeling your cheeks redden, you stumbled slightly over your words, “Yeah! I love all your videos, you got me into a couple of new games I didn’t think I’d ever enjoy,” you finished, laughing awkwardly.

Jeongguk took it in stride, bashfully scratching the back of his head, “Thanks, I appreciate that. So you’re into a lot of games, yourself?”

Seeing an opportunity, you relaxed, feeling yourself brighten at the chance to talk about your favorite subject, “Yeah! I actually work for O.K. Gaming in their planning team. I’m not really into MMOs, but I like a lot of RPGs and platformers, my favorite right now is actually this indie one from the U.S. that’s been out for a couple of years, Celeste, it got put on the switch but I played it on my PC. But I’ve been branching out, thanks to you! Watching you play all the old Zelda games made me want to get into it too, but I ended up starting with Breath of the Wild because it looked so pretty, the graphics are just amazing! So are the mechanics, I was really impressed with how-”

“Woah, there,” you heard Hoseok, laying a hand on the small of your back, “You’re gonna scare him away.”

You laughed awkwardly, noticing the shocked expression that painted Jeongguk’s face, “Sorry, I tend to get over-excited when it comes to that stuff.”

Jeongguk seemed to snap back into the conversation, shaking his head wildly with a large grin, “No, that’s great! It’s been a while since I’ve been able to geek out with someone. We should totally hang out, what’s your number?”

You felt yourself slip back into a comfortable smile before taking Jeongguk’s phone to put your number in while he excitedly mentioned the games he was thinking of streaming next. Handing his phone back, he glanced at it before looking back up at you, “Hey, is it okay for me to call you noona? I do the same with Joohee noona.”

Slightly surprised at his forwardness, you nodded, “Yeah, that’d be nice. I don’t think I’ll call you Kook though.”

He laughed brightly, “We’ll work our way up to that.”

One of the other groomsmen called both Seokjin and Jeongguk back to the altar, leaving you to bask in the feeling of having met one of your favorite content creators and becoming friends with him, ignoring Hoseok’s quiet teasing at your geeking out. The bliss didn’t last long though as you heard your mother clap her hands and ask everyone to sit near the front. Hoseok’s hand slipped into your own, giving it a gentle squeeze, along with an encouraging smile, before letting you and Joohee join the others at the front. You’d wished that you could put Hoseok in your wedding party, but you knew your mother would never allow it. You were grateful already that he’d come to the rehearsal despite not being able to do anything the entire time.

You and Joohee took your seats at the front, sitting next to some other young women you recognized from your mother’s galas, likely the rest of your bridesmaids. Your mother had been kind enough to let you choose Joohee as your maid of honor, but you knew she’d only allowed it because Joohee’s family was high up enough according to her standards.

Your mother positioned herself at the altar, addressing everyone with a confident tone, “Now that everyone’s present, I’ll let Mrs. Shin go through the itinerary for today.” Your mother then stepped aside, joining your father on your family’s side of the aisle.

A small, stout woman with her hair in a tight bun and a string of pearls adorning her neck took the stand, “Hello, I’m Shin Miyeon, the wedding planner for this event. For today, we’ll start with a rehearsal of the entrances and ceremony, which will be followed by the entrances for the reception and a run-through of the timings for the dances tomorrow. We’ll end with a joint dinner, and then we’ll be done. Let’s get started.”

Mrs. Shin immediately started directing people, the bridal party being the first, and pairing them up by height to walk together. Joohee was quickly whisked away, leaving you shaking nervously, as this was all beginning to feel a bit too real. The thought was suddenly occurring to you that you really were going to be marrying Yoongi and he absolutely did not want it to happen. Sinking further into your seat, you sent an encouraging, but wavering, smile to Joohee who was paired with her brother due to their similar heights. Your eyes drifted towards Yoongi, who was sitting calmly on the other side of the aisle, swiping through his phone with an unimpressed expression. How could he be so nonchalant about all this?

“Mr. Min, Ms. Seo, please join me at the entrance,” Mrs. Shin’s voice called out, making you raise your head in her direction. You felt your heart rate speed up and your hands clench, you weren’t ready for this. Your vision almost seemed to cloud as it felt like a hand was closing in around your throat, and your breath started to stutter. You absolutely were not ready for this. Your life was about to change, arguably for the worse, and you had to spend it with someone who wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You could distantly hear Mrs. Shin calling your name once more but it felt like you couldn’t move, your body didn’t feel like your own. Gaze lowering to the ground, it seemed like spots were taking over your vision. Your breath continued to quicken and you could feel yourself beginning to fully lose control of your breathing.

This can’t be happening.

You needed to get ahold of yourself, there were people all around you, not to mention your mother and Yoongi. But no matter how hard you tried to ground yourself, the control you had over your body kept slipping away, and it only caused you to freak out further. A pair of smart, black dress shoes came into your view and you lifted your head to see Yoongi looking down at you with a raised eyebrow through your blurry vision.

“Are you coming?”

You forced yourself to hold your breath, letting it out slowly after counting for a few seconds, before nodding and standing on wobbly legs. You didn’t have time to break down, you had a job to do.

Following Yoongi and Mrs. Shin to the entrance doors, you pointedly avoided eye contact with your mother while sending shaky smiles to Joohee and Hoseok. You had to get a grip.

“Alright, let’s go through the order we’ll be going down the aisle. Can the rest of the wedding party please come down here?”

You were squished up against the door with Yoongi at your side as the wedding party took their places to arrive at the altar before you. Setting your eyes straightforward, you resisted any temptation to glance at Yoongi to see his expression. You couldn’t face him after he’d witnessed you almost experience a full-on panic attack. Focusing in on Mrs. Shin’s firm tone was an easy distraction, as you watched her guide your wedding party down the aisle and to the altar. Slowly but surely, she made her way to you and your groom, with Yoongi being directed first.

“You’ll walk before Ms. Seo and take your place next to Mr. Kim at the stand,” Mrs. Shin said, guiding Yoongi toward the other end of the room. You watched as he gracefully strode down the aisle, casually stopping next to Seokjin and turning to face your direction. The action made you pause, almost breathlessly, as your gaze connected. However, his eyes didn’t last long on your form, as they slid over to Seokjin and Yoongi began conversing with him.

You couldn’t help the disappointed feeling in your chest, despite knowing full well you had no right to suffer it. Yoongi wasn’t yours, he would never be, something he had made quite clear in your limited interactions. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a tugging in your stomach, a pain in your forefinger, at his blatant dismissal of you. Biting your lip, you cursed inwardly, now was not the time to fall even deeper for your husband-to-be.

“Ms. Seo, please follow me. You can hold this in place of your bouquet,” Mrs. Shin said, handing you a nondescript water bottle. A quick glance at Hoseok’s form turned to face you had you confirming that he was making fun of you as you had suspected. You brushed off his giggles and stepped in what you hoped was an elegant manner after Mrs. Shin, following her down the aisle.

You deliberately avoided looking at Yoongi’s face, knowing that he wouldn’t be watching you. Did you want him to?

Yes.

You almost scoffed. What a ridiculous notion. What you were in need of was a good, old reality check, not playing into the fantasy of marrying Yoongi for love. As you passed Hoseok, he whistled wolfishly, earning a disapproving frown from your mother. It was exactly what you needed though, pulling a laugh out of you before discreetly flipping him off from behind the water bottle. You felt the tension leave your body at Hoseok’s familiar antics, finally feeling relaxed for the first time that night. Maybe you could do this, after all.

Reaching the altar, Mrs. Shin proceeded to give minor notes to the rest of your wedding party as you stood awkwardly next to Yoongi. You could hear his soft breaths as he waited patiently for Mrs. Shin to address you both, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at or try to start a conversation with him. Yoongi seemed to be doing the same, keeping his eyes forward and occasionally glancing at his watch.

You felt lonely. You were standing next to the person who was going to be your partner for the rest of your life and yet, you felt a deep and painful distance from him. You could feel his warmth, hear him shuffling beside you, but you deliberately shied away from brushing elbows to solidify the separation between you. Yoongi seemed so calm and indifferent, it made you feel a troubling combination of envy and anger.

Why couldn’t you be as blase as him about this? Why was he so apathetic in the first place? Didn’t he care about you at all? Was he judging you for not being aloof yourself? Why didn’t he want to engage with you at all?

It hurt, to say the least, but the rational part of you annoyingly came to his defense. Realistically, you knew he had no obligation to try and converse with, or even care about, you. So why were you still so hurt?

“Mr. Min, Ms. Seo, please join me at the doors. We’ll run through it again.”

Mrs. Shin’s voice put a halt to your spiraling thoughts, making you register Yoongi turning around beside you. Following suit, you joined behind him, taking a glance at your watch. Only about thirty or so minutes had passed.

You sighed, this was really going to be a test of your endurance.

The cushioned chair felt welcoming, even though your company did not evoke the same feeling. Your mother was sitting across from you and her cold stare made you shrivel into your seat. Hoseok was placed on the far end of the table with Joohee, making them achingly far from you. Yoongi was next to you in a performance pretending this was a willing marriage. Not that the restaurant staff would care.

You scowled internally, lamenting the fact that you couldn’t even eat dinner comfortably. Your mother was sending you cursory glances while talking to Yoongi’s mother, and your dad was talking business with Yoongi’s father, and with Yoongi conversing with Seokjin, you were painfully lonely. You resorted to quietly playing with the napkin in your lap and staring at your empty plate and wine glass in front of you, desperately wishing you could drink to make the dinner easier but you knew your mother wouldn’t approve.

“Y/N noona?”

You looked up, making eye contact with Jeongguk, who was sitting next to you, previously talking to another groomsman with stunning dimples next to him.

“Oh, yes,” you responded, straightening in your chair.

“I wanted to talk to you some more about the games you mentioned earlier since we didn’t get to finish,” he responded, a bright, bunny smile decorating his face.

You felt yourself smile warmly in response automatically, his joy and bubbliness seemed to be contagious, “Yeah, I’d love to. What would you like to know?”

The conversation with Jeongguk proved to be your oasis in the desert of the stale and stiff conversations happening around you, especially between your parents. His encouraging smile put you at ease and made the tension flow out from your fingers. You were grateful that he was so engaging, keeping you distracted from the shifting from the aloof and dominating presence you felt beside you.

Yoongi had remained relatively quiet throughout the whole evening, only having spoken to you when you were on the verge of breaking down. He spoke quietly to his friends, not bothering to introduce you to them, and had barely looked in your direction. Part of you couldn’t deny it upsetting you, but you constantly reminded yourself that this was to be expected.

The both of you had made no commitment to each other outside of appearing as a couple when it mattered, he had no obligation to be friendly towards you. It felt like your mind was going in circles continually trying to keep your emotions in check and avoid crossing the boundaries Yoongi had so clearly laid out.

The thought entered your mind once again, Is this what the rest of your life is going to be like?

It certainly felt that way.

You felt Yoongi shift beside you once again, making you flinch. Thankfully, Jeongguk didn’t seem to notice, too engrossed in describing his most recent gaming obsession with you. You felt hyper-aware of Yoongi’s presence, whether he was right beside you or at the other end of the room. It bothered you how much he affected you, but you almost enjoyed it at the same time.

There was something pleasant about the feeling of falling in love with someone, regardless of whether it was a tragic infatuation or not. The rush of your heartbeat whenever you caught a glimpse of him, the way your breath hitched when you accidentally brushed shoulders, the way your fingers itched to grasp his hand, it all felt so romantic in a way.

Where it all came crashing down was the reality that Yoongi didn’t feel a semblance of the same way. Your spiked heartbeat was met with his indifferent exterior, your hitched breath with his calm and even exhales, and your twitching fingers with his clenched fist. It was detrimental, damaging even, and it was taking a toll on, not only your emotional wellbeing but your self-confidence as well. You were so swiftly rejected by him that it was a blow to your self-esteem. You hadn’t felt particularly great about yourself prior to his crushing dismissal, but you had certainly been in a downward spiral since then.

Too often now you were scrutinizing your appearance in the mirror, choosing baggier clothing while hating the silhouette, and catching yourself while speaking. It wasn’t logical or warranted, but that didn’t stop your overactive mind from whispering your insecurities quietly every day. Maybe Hoseok had a point. You really needed to look into therapy.

“Noona?”

“Oh, sorry, I was just zoning out,” you blinked, tuning back into Jeongguk’s honey-sweet voice.

He smiled sympathetically, something you seemed to be on the receiving end of a lot lately, “That’s okay. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m alright,” you nodded, not wanting to divulge the cacophony of thoughts swimming around in your head, “Please, continue with what you were saying.”

Jeongguk’s energizing smile made a reappearance, making you relax further into your chair. You let his dulcet voice lull you into a comfortable conversation for the rest of the dinner, trying not to react whenever you felt movement beside you.

“Thank you all for coming, we appreciate your being here. We’ll be meeting at the venue tomorrow at nine, so please be sure to be on time,” your mother concluded, your group standing outside the restaurant. With that, the crowd slowly dispersed, your parents speaking to Yoongi’s at their cars and the bridal parties filing out into respective vehicles as well. You leaned back into Hoseok’s firm torso, letting his arm encircle your waist and his chin rest on your shoulder.

You didn’t often let people touch you, but Hoseok was a rare exception, having broken your barriers down in college, and served as a comforting touch whenever you needed it. It evolved into more casual affection, a similar version being displayed between Hoseok and Joohee, and you accepted it as just part of his personality. You knew how it looked to people around you but you simply didn’t care, Hoseok was a good friend, and you’d be damned if you were going to refuse the little human contact you allowed.

Joohee was talking animatedly to Hoseok about something or other, you weren’t really paying attention. Hoseok’s warmth soothed you, making your eyelids fall in the exhaustion from the day’s events. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught your mother frowning at you, but you paid no mind. For the first time since the announcement, you wondered if she’d finally leave you to your own devices now that you were doing the ultimate show of subservience to her.

Kim Seokjin’s booming voice startled you from Hoseok’s grasp, making him switch to leaning against your car door. You spotted Seokjin’s tall figure making his way over to you, the other groomsmen following behind. Yoongi was also tailing Seokjin, making you stand up straighter and try to steel your expression.

“Joo, Y/N, we’re gonna go for some drinks to celebrate Yoongi’s bachelordom ending, want to join? You’re welcome too, of course, Hobi,” Seokjin smiled kindly. You almost flinched at the mention of Yoongi’s bachelor lifestyle ending, apparently, he hadn’t told his friends about the rules he’d set.

Joohee’s face hardened towards Yoongi, apparently realizing the same thing you did, before turning sickeningly sweet towards her brother, “No thanks, oppa. We’re gonna head back to Y/N’s.”

“Oh, c’mon, noona,” Jeongguk looked at you imploringly, eyes shining, “It’ll be fun! We can hang out more!”

You smiled apologetically as you felt Hoseok wrap a protective arm around you, noting that he was probably on the same page as Joohee, “Sorry Jeongguk, maybe next time.”

Jeongguk shrugged, turning to the other groomsmen, the dimpled man with tan skin and a model-esque-looking man with dark eyebrows and lighter hair. Seokjin furrowed his eyebrow slightly, mouth upturning into a small frown, “Well, okay, but I’ll be taking you out to celebrate at some point, Y/N. Mark the date!”

You laughed quietly, waving him off with an acquiescing nod. The men filed back towards their respective cars, heading to bars or someone’s house, you assumed. You began turning further into Hoseok to face your car before realizing that Yoongi was still standing there.

Pausing, you looked at him questioningly, feeling Hoseok’s grip tighten. Yoongi’s dark eyes narrowed at your intertwined forms.

“Do you need something, Yoongi-ssi,” Joohee asked in a clipped tone. You almost cringed at the blatant contempt.

“No,” Yoongi responded quietly, “I don’t. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He nodded politely in your direction before turning to walk back to his car, pausing for a last glance at your bemused face.

“What was that,” Joohee scoffed, flipping off Yoongi’s silhouette.

You shrugged, not knowing what to make of it either, “C’mon, let’s just go home. I need to get drunk.”

Joohee entered your car and you were just about to follow before Hoseok pulled you back, making you almost stop in your tracks.

“Y/N,” he sighed, looking into your eyes, “Are you really okay?”

You pulled your hand out of his, tired of being treated in such a fragile manner, “Yes, I’m fine. As good as I can be. I just want to go home.” You felt bad for snapping, but you were irritable after a long day and you wanted to get out of your dress and wipe off your makeup. You turned back towards the car before Hoseok spoke again.

“I know,” Hoseok said softly, “But there’s something off about him. I can’t place it. It was the way he looked at you, especially when I was hugging you.”

You twisted your head in his direction quickly, “Stop. Seriously, Hoseok, I really don’t need to be thinking about that. The last thing I need for this stupid infatuation is to think that there’s something there when there isn’t. I don’t need you putting those kinds of thoughts into my brain.”

Hoseok recoiled before scratching the back of his head and shooting you an apologetic glance, “You’re right, sorry. Let’s just go home, yeah?”

You both entered the car, Joohee leaning forward from the backseat to glance at the both of you.

“Is everything cool with you guys,” she questioned, likely having witnessed the scene outside the car.

“Yeah, just fine,” you said bluntly, gripping the steering wheel. What were you doing? Hoseok was just expressing concern. You didn’t have a right to get so worked up and take out your anger on him.

Sighing, you let yourself relax into your cushioned car seat, turning towards Hoseok who was in the passenger seat, “Sorry, Hobi. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s totally fine,” Hoseok smiled comfortingly, “Don’t even worry about it. I know how stressed you’ve been.”

“No,” you protested, “That isn’t an excuse. You were just looking out for me.”

Hoseok laughed jovially, “Hey, it’s fine, I promise. If anything, I’m glad to see you letting out some emotion, I was beginning to get worried that you didn’t get angry anymore.”

“Oh, she can get angry, alright,” Joohee mused from the backseat, “You’re just not around to see it anymore.”

You laughed, feeling relief at Hoseok’s easy acceptance of your apology. You started up your car, pulling out into the street.

“Let’s go get shitfaced in your living room,” Joohee cheered from behind you, Hoseok laughing along loudly.

A smile formed on your face, making you chuckle at Joohee’s exclamations. You were lucky, luckier than you thought initially. Even with everything going on, you felt your heart fill at your friends’ gracious and kind attitudes toward you. You continued driving to your apartment, feeling a touch more confident about your ability to get through tomorrow relatively unscathed.

Your dress felt constricting, but not in a way that a seamstress could fix. Despite your unfounded confidence the night before, standing behind the closed doors of the aisle sent a fresh wave of anxiety through your veins.

How were you going to get through this? Yoongi was waiting on the other side, at the end of the aisle, about to become your partner for life. Except, you weren’t going to be his partner in the same way.

Initially, Yoongi was supposed to walk down with you, your entourage partnered up like you’d practiced at the beginning of yesterday. But Mrs. Shin didn’t like the visual, making her change it to a more traditional style ceremony. Go figure that she wouldn’t think the sight of you and Yoongi walking together

A sick nausea curled in your stomach, making you clench the audacious bouquet, letting a few petals fall to the floor. You felt a hand clasp your shoulder, making you turn, seeing Joohee’s concerned frown.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, I’ll be right there. You can do this,” she squeezed your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I can do this,” you repeated, attempting to calm your nerves. A small voice in the back of your mind whispered, wondering if Yoongi had the same nerves.

The thought almost made you scoff, there was no way. Nothing much in his life was changing other than getting a roommate he had to take to galas.

You knew that wasn’t a fair sentiment. Yoongi was as negatively affected by this arrangement as you were, he was just taking a more emotionally removed approach. Maybe you should learn from that.

Mrs. Shin appeared next to you in a flurry, “We’re about to open the doors. Are you ready?”

You nodded stiffly, knowing the answer was that you’d never be ready to marry Min Yoongi.

Hearing the muffled piano begin to play, signaling the start to your bridal party’s entrance, you released a heavy breath, trying to paint on a passive exterior. Joohee whispered some small last bits of encouragement your way before taking her place in front of you.

The doors slowly opened, letting your bridesmaids walk down before you. You could feel your hands trembling.

Hidden from the audience’s eyes beside the door, Mrs. Shin gestured at you, mouthing that you were up next.

Taking a moment to close your eyes, you steeled your nerves and took a step forward. You could do this. It was just a walk, that’s all it was.

You repeated the mantra in your head as you took more and more steps down the aisle, focusing your gaze on the ornate carvings above the altar. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed your mother gesturing for you to smile, and you responded automatically, letting a small smile adorn your mouth. It felt hollow, but that wasn’t what mattered.

As you approached the altar, your gaze naturally shifted down to Yoongi, who was poised in a statuesque manner. He looked radiant, the black suit fitted perfectly to his chest and tapered at his waist. His charcoal hair was styled, showing his forehead, displaying his clear, smooth skin. His hands were clasped in front of him, your eyes tracing the outlines of his fingers, and his aura exuded confidence. You purposefully kept your gaze away from his face, not wanting to see the expression that he wore.

Reaching the steps up to the altar, you carefully climbed each one, making sure not to trip over the hem of your dress. You took your place next to Yoongi, feeling him turn to face the officiant. As the officiant began speaking, you felt yourself breathe out slowly, trying to recover from the initial stress. You had the first step done, the rest wouldn’t be so hard.

Thankfully, you could zone out for most of the ceremony, with the officiant droning on in your ear. Most of this was for show anyway, you didn’t really need to seem present. It was lucky that you were facing away from your audience, allowing your eyes to glaze over and subtly stifle yawns.

You barely processed Yoongi’s presence throughout the ceremony, trying not to glance in his direction. He hadn’t really acknowledged you, but it didn’t surprise you. In a way, it almost pained you that you were getting used to his apathy this quickly.

Another blessing came in the form that you didn’t have to recite vows. The attendees of the weddings had seen far too many arranged marriages to sit through another cycle of canned and rehearsed vows. It felt especially lucky to you as well in that you wouldn’t have to look into Yoongi’s eyes as you declared your devotion to him.

The ceremony itself quickly came to an end, and you were forced to turn to Yoongi, making eye contact accidentally for the first time that day. It sent a rush of heat to bloom in the apples of your cheeks and the pace of your heart quickened. It felt pathetic, really, to let him have that effect on you.

You extended your hand as Yoongi gently took it, sliding the cold metal of the ring onto your finger. Your hands felt numb from staying in place so long during the officiant’s speech, but Yoongi’s warm touch sparked new life in them, making them tremble in his grasp.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you took Yoongi’s hand in your own, noting the smooth planes of his palm and long digits. You internally cringed at your quivering fingers as you slid Yoongi’s own obsidian wedding band onto his finger. Letting go as soon as you were done, you let your hands fall back down to your sides. You pointedly avoided any eye contact with Yoongi, knowing what was next.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

It felt like the air was sucked from your lungs. You knew this was coming yet it still scared you. You weren’t so much afraid of the kiss, you’d kissed plenty of people, but you were afraid of what it would ignite in you.

Yoongi left you no room to hesitate as he grasped your cheeks and gently tugged you toward him, almost making you stumble. Your eyes widened as he leaned it, his own closed. Reflexively, you almost pulled away.

“Relax,” you heard him whisper, too quiet for even the officiant to hear, the warm breath from his words gently caressing your mouth. But you couldn’t stop shaking. You clenched your eyes shut as he leaned in closer before feeling the skin of his thumb covering your lips. His thumb pressed against your lip for just a second before he pulled back entirely, dropping his hands back down to his sides.

You hovered, unsure of what just happened. Did he cover your mouth for the kiss? You weren’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, you were admittedly relieved, not wanting your first kiss with Yoongi to be under these circumstances of obligation, and it certainly spoke to his respect for your own consent. Even though you were sure there wouldn’t be any more chances for a kiss anyway.

But a more sinister and greedy part of you wished he hadn’t shielded you, craved the soft touch of his lips against your own. You, ashamedly, wanted to share a romantic moment with him, even if it was a guise for a happy marriage. Just feeling his slightly calloused fingers grazing your cheeks was enough to leave you wanting more.

Applause startled you out of your trance, making you turn towards the audience and plaster a smile on your face. Scanning the crowd, you spotted Hoseok clapping, sending you an encouraging smile. You breathed out, feeling minutely comforted by his sweet smile.

Yoongi took your hand, holding it, as you began walking down the aisle. You’d practiced this yesterday, so your body was almost numb to the situation of his thumb rubbing against your forefinger.

Almost.

A nasty thought slithered its way into the forefront of your mind.

That was the same thumb that he covered the kiss with.

As you walked down the narrow pathway, making sure to smile at the sea of guests your mother had invited, you could feel your gaze growing hazier. This was all getting to be a bit overwhelming. Your feet were hurting in the heels your mother had made you wear, the jacquard of the dress was starting to dig into your skin at the bust, the hairpins lining your hair were hurting your scalp, and the scent of Yoongi’s cologne was intoxicating.

You and Yoongi reached the end of the aisle, walking past the doors and letting them close behind, leaving the both of you a few minutes to catch your breath before you were whisked away from the reception. Yoongi quickly separated from you, taking a water bottle from an attendant and downing almost half of it. Your hand felt cold suddenly.

Another employee offered a water bottle to you as well, and you gratefully accepted, taking a swig immediately. The cool liquid soothed your scratchy throat, feeling it go down with it being the only thing you’d had today by way of food. The attendants then gestured for you to follow them into separate changing rooms, preparing hanboks that your parents had wanted you to wear during the reception.

Letting the attendant dress you in the hanbok gave you time to process what had just happened. You were now married to Yoongi. You had filled out the paperwork about a week prior, but the bells and whistles of the ceremony made it feel much more real. Sighing, you took solace in the fact that the hardest bit was done.

But was it really?

Now, you had to sit through a reception, thanking guests for coming and pretending like Yoongi actually liked you. Exchanging recycled pleasantries and fake smiles with your parents’ social circle and business partners was less than appealing.

The employee quietly told you that she was finished and moved aside to let you look in the mirror.

You tried to be happy about how pretty you looked, but all you could see were your bloodshot eyes and the slightly cakey makeup trying to hide your eye bags. At least the hanbok wasn’t as tight as your dress.

Exiting the dressing room, you caught sight of Yoongi in his dark blue hanbok with white pants. He looked striking, as always, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be starstruck at this point in the day. You just wanted to go home and lie down. You were led to the reception hall where guests were already mingling for cocktail hour while the food was being prepped to be served.

A man whose name you didn’t know announced your arrival and the guests turned in your direction and began to clap. Yoongi grabbed your hand in his once more, the suddenness of the action making you flinch. You entered the hall, smiling and greeting guests politely. You couldn’t even recognize anyone staring back at you.

Yoongi led you through all the guests expertly, exchanging greetings and small talk smoothly like he’d done this before. You felt like you were in a trance, repeating the same pleasantries and shallow questions. How was he so good at this?

You finally reached the end of the guests, moving to your bridal parties. You hadn’t even seen your parents, your mother was probably talking to guests herself. Joohee pulled you into a tight hug, holding it for a second longer before releasing you with a comforting smile on her face and sympathy in her eyes. The other bridesmaids didn’t bother going beyond quick congratulations, which you were grateful for. You didn’t know them anyway. Hoseok was next to Joohee, also immediately encasing you and attempting to ruffle your hair, but you moved your head out of the way. He stepped back, taking a moment to look at you before speaking.

“You’re doing well.”

Your eyes became watery as you mustered up a shaky smile, something about him praising you for what felt like thankless effort almost pushed you over the edge, “Thanks, Hobi. Love you.”

“Love you too, always.”

“Hey, I love you too,” Joohee protested, making you bark out a laugh.

“You’re my number one, Joo,” you smiled, taking her hands and squeezing them. She grinned widely in response before punching Hoseok in the arm.

“Ow, what the heck,” he grumbled.

“Because I love Y/N more than you,” she responded petulantly, leaving Hoseok to only roll his eyes in response.

The antics made you smile, giving you room to breathe in the stifling room of business partnership discussions.

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s deep voice rumbled, making you freeze before turning to face him. His eyes laid on your figure in what felt like a scrutinizing manner, making you squirm under the heavy gaze.

“I’d like you to meet my groomsmen,” Yoongi stated, gesturing behind him, “You already know Jin hyung.”

You nodded mutely, sending an unsure smile in Seokjin’s direction. Why was he doing this? He hadn’t bothered to introduce you to them before, why did it matter now? Were you supposed to introduce Hoseok too, then?

“This is Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi continued, moving his hand to clap the tall, dimpled man’s shoulder. The man smiled politely, the dimples faint with the minute movement, and stepped forward, putting out his hand, “Hi, I’ve known Yoongi since college. It’s nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand, feeling quite exposed under his dragon-like eyes, “Nice to meet you too. I like your hair.” It was a rule that you’d made with yourself, to try and give at least one compliment to each new person you met. You found that it made them much more open and friendly towards you, and it didn’t hurt to receive compliments in return.

“Thanks,” Namjoon said, smile widening and deepening his dimples. His firm grasp on your hand grounded you, but you still felt your cheeks grow hot at the contact. Why were all of Yoongi’s friends so hot? “I like your hair too,” he finished. You smiled in response, pulling your hand away before your blush became too obvious.

“This is Kim Taehyung,” Yoongi’s voice pulled you out of the stupor Namjoon’s visual put you in, “I met him a bit after college. He’s a pretty famous jazz performer.”

The model-esque man from the previous day stepped forward, rendering you speechless. Seriously, what was with this friend group? His elegant cheekbones and narrow nose perfectly complemented the kind eyes that adorned his face, and the sandy blonde hair that fell on his forehead. He quickly took your hand in his, kissing the top, making you gasp in response.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Taehyung said, his voice was a smooth baritone that sent shivers down your spine. He looked up from your hand, eyes hooded from his brow bone, making you quickly pull away at the stunning visual.

“Thanks,” you stammered, trying to collect your thoughts, “You have a pretty smile.”

Taehyung’s face broke out into the aforementioned expression, an adorably contagious boxy smile, as he straightened up, “Thanks!”

“I actually listen to some jazz myself, though not that much,” you mentioned, wanting something to connect over, “I’ve been very into Kenny Garrett recently.”

Taehyung’s smile brightened, letting out a low chuckle, “Yes, he’s pretty great. You should come to one of my shows then, I’ll send you a ticket.”

You heard Yoongi clear his throat.

“You and Yoongi hyung a ticket, of course,” Taehyung finished, winking at you before turning away to greet Hoseok.

“And, lastly, this is Jeon Jeongguk. He’s the son of one of my father’s friends, so we grew up together,” Yoongi concluded, but Jeongguk interrupted.

“Hi, noona! You look so pretty,” Jeongguk smiled, excitedly hugging you. You laughed in response, patting his back before retorting, “Thanks, you look pretty too.”

Jeongguk pulled away, laughing jovially, “Thanks! I told Yoongi hyung we already talked but I don’t think he believed me.”

You stiffened, glancing at Yoongi, whose face was impassive, “Oh, I see.”

Yoongi stepped forward, blocking Jeongguk from your sight, “And who’s your guest?”

“Oh,” you stuttered, flustered by his closer presence, “This is Hoseok. We met in college, but he lives in Busan now. Well, not for much longer, he’s looking to move here,” you rambled.

Hoseok chuckled before placing a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, I’m Jung Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.”

Both men shook hands before Hoseok returned to your side, “I’ve been by Y/N’s side ever since our first year, it’s a surprise I’ve lasted this long,” he finished with a short laugh.

You elbowed him in the side, only making him grimace and slip his hand down to your waist for a teasing squeeze, “I work a dance studio in Busan but I’m planning on opening my own here.”

“Impressive,” Yoongi stated in a monotone voice, “You two must be close.”

“The closest,” Hoseok grinned, pulling you flush to his side, causing you to struggle, “We’re very familiar.”

Oh no.

That’s Hoseok’s shit-stirring voice, you knew it well. One glance at his sardonic grin had you wrestling out of his grip and trying to move on in the conversation to avoid whatever Hoseok was planning, “Yeah, we and Joohee are all really good friends. We were practically inseparable until Hoseok moved. We should all get lunch together sometime so you can get to know them better.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Yoongi said, almost eerily calm, eyes set on Hoseok’s impish smile.

You deflated at his words, forgetting for a moment that Yoongi didn’t want you to mix personal lives. It was embarrassing to say the least, and you felt like you came off as desperate. You felt yourself curl inwards before muttering a quiet, “Sure.”

Yoongi sent a curt nod in Hoseok’s direction before turning away to return to his own friend group, leaving you flustered and disconcerted next to Hoseok. He grinned triumphantly before noticing your abashed state, quickly pulling you into a soothing hug.

You pulled away, not wanting to be embarrassed anymore tonight, and reached for a passing waiter’s tray of champagne. You didn’t usually drink at public functions, but you felt like this was a worthy exception. The bubbly liquid felt necessary to get through the rest of the night, and you welcomed the warming sensation enthusiastically. You didn’t catch Hoseok’s concerned gaze nor the other stare that fell on your form from a far darker pair of eyes across the table.

You were exhausted. Every limb in your body and your brain itself were screaming out with soreness and fatigue. It felt like a light at the end of a tunnel when guests began filing out and the party came to a close.

You were decently buzzed, but still sober enough to be aware, from the multiple champagne glasses you drank. Joohee had made sure to keep you well hydrated, somewhat numbing the effects of the alcohol on your body.

The rest of the reception had gone by quietly, with you and Yoongi separated for the majority of it, greeting what guests you hadn’t and barely talking during dinner. You were conflicted, somewhat grateful for the ease the lack of Yoongi’s presence gave you, but also finding yourself missing his confident aura.

You waved the last guest out, before letting yourself collapse on a nearby chair. Joohee patted your shoulder and Hoseok wandered off to grab your belongings so that you’d be ready to go. Your mother closed the door to the room before approaching you, Yoongi’s parents in tow.

“Yoongi,” his mother called, pulling him away from his friends who were seated at another table. He approached, arriving at your seat at the same time as your mother.

“You’ll be going home in the car we’ve called for you,” your mother stated, leaving no room for argument. You were going to stay in Yoongi’s apartment now, “I assume your things are already there?”

You nodded timidly.

“Right, well, we’ll leave you to it. Would you like to join me and Woohyun for some drinks,” your mother asked Yoongi’s parents.

“Yes, of course, we’ll have a driver take us to your home. Yoongi, be good now,” his mother said, patting Yoongi’s shoulder and giving you a polite smile. You mustered up what you hoped was a smile in response, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a grimace instead.

Your mother offered you no goodbye and instead gathered your father and gave some closing instructions to the cleaning staff, before swiftly exiting. You were left looking at Yoongi, who was mouthing something to his friends, waiting to see what he would do.

Joohee squeezed your shoulder before leaving you to help Hoseok with your bags. Hoseok didn’t really need help as you didn’t have much except the clothes you’d arrived in and some electronics, but you could tell Joohee wanted to escape the tense atmosphere. You couldn’t blame her.

Yoongi turned toward you, making you stand automatically to meet his gaze, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just,” you started before being interrupted by Hoseok arriving with your bag. You chuckled awkwardly as Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, watching you take the bags from Hoseok. Joohee was next to him, fiddling with her phone in an effort to not engage, you assumed.

“Are you leaving,” Hoseok asked, to which you nodded in response, “Well, have fun. Call me anytime, I’ll always be there.” He pulled you into a hug, making you melt in his embrace. You soon felt Joohee’s arms wrap around you as well, “Me too, we’ll talk later.” They released you before giving you encouraging smiles. You couldn’t say you felt the same level of confidence.

Facing Yoongi, you gathered your bags, noting his one bag at his side, likely containing his suit. He nodded curtly at Hoseok and Joohee, who waved in response, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door. You stumbled after him, waving a messy goodbye to Hoseok and Joohee, and finally catching up to Yoongi holding the door open for you. You tried to muster a grateful nod, but seeing his cold expression, you moved quickly to get out the door.

Awaiting your arrival outside was a sleek, black car, with a chauffeur standing patiently holding the door open to the backseat. You took a quick glance at Yoongi, who gestured for you to enter first, so you did, leaving your bags sitting outside. Yoongi climbed in afterward, quietly asking the driver to put the luggage in the trunk. The two of you sat in silence, waiting for the driver to finish packing the luggage away.

It was finally over.

Somehow, it didn’t feel that way. The relief you’d hoped to feel was nowhere to be found and you were left with only the biting anxiety that Yoongi’s silence incited. You played mindlessly with the seams of your hanbok, finding it slightly uncomfortable to sit in the backseat with. Yoongi didn’t seem to share the same discomfort, scrolling idly on his phone and not acknowledging your presence.

You wished you could do the same, but you’d left your phone in your bag after not having used it all day. Instead, you turned to the scenery outside your window to keep yourself occupied. The driver soon started up the car and began heading to Yoongi’s apartment. Watching the scenery fly by gave you time to think about what was waiting for you there.

You hadn’t visited Yoongi’s apartment yet, too afraid and uncomfortable to set foot inside a space so truly and specially his. Most of your things from your own apartment were apparently already set up, courtesy of his maid, Mrs. Lim, whom you had been in contact with when you first dropped off your things. You had been in a rush, trying to get to a dress fitting, and Mrs. Lim had insisted that you give everything to her and that she would make sure it would be ready for you when you came.

You supposed now was that time.

Yoongi was still silent beside you and you weren’t sure what to say to him. You hadn’t really spoken for the rest of the night after his odd introduction to Hoseok. It frustrated you how the little things he was doing kept messing with your head.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew that his actions could point toward jealousy, but you refused to consider that as a possibility. Not only would it contradict his entire attitude towards you, but you couldn’t allow yourself to feel even a sliver of hope that Yoongi might harbor feelings toward you. The constant self-regulation was taxing and you dreaded the idea that this would be your future, constantly reminding yourself that your husband doesn’t love you and to not get confused.

Your thoughts halted with the car as the driver pulled into the entrance of the large building that housed Yoongi’s apartment. It was dark, so you gladly accepted the help of the chauffeur in getting out of the car. He kindly handed you your bags before bowing and driving away. You didn’t have access to the building yet, having called Mrs. Lim for your past visits, so you looked helplessly at Yoongi to unlock the door.

He didn’t spare you a glance as he punched in his code and stood aside to let you in. You nodded in thanks anyway and shivered at the cold nipping at your cheeks. Yoongi led you to the elevator, pressing the 9th-floor button, silently standing in the opposite corner from you.

Sighing internally, you almost laughed at the blatant display of the contempt he held for you. For the first time, you thought of him as slightly immature.

The elevator doors slid open and Yoongi led you to a hallway with only four doors, each housing a penthouse apartment. The farthest door was Yoongi’s, you learned, as he held his thumb up to the pad before hearing a click and pushing the door open. Mrs. Lim was immediately there to greet him.

“Mr. Min, let me take your things. Oh, Ms. Seo! Here, I’ll take your bags to your room. Wait, should I call you Mrs. Min, now?”

You smiled at the sweet, older woman, nodding your greeting, “Hi, Mrs. Lim. Please, just call me Y/N.”

She smiled at you, taking your things and rushing off to the upstairs portion of the apartment. It left you standing awkwardly next to Yoongi, who was typing something out on his phone. You took the moment to let your eyes wander around the sparkling apartment. It looked straight out of a catalogue with cool tones and neat furniture with an open concept. He had smooth, black leather couches surrounding a large TV with a path into a dining room that housed a large table and comfortable-looking chairs. That was next to a large kitchen with a wide counter in the middle and a sleek, silver refrigerator and oven. It looked nice, but not welcoming. You preferred warmer lighting and more touches of color, with some plants, but you reminded yourself that this wasn’t your space to customize.

Or was it? You weren’t really sure. It felt like you were invading Yoongi’s home, but wasn’t it your home now too? Should you be able to decorate it to your liking as well? Or at least compromise? The thought of addressing that now felt too overwhelming and you didn’t want to piss off Yoongi so early into your stay.

“You can go change and get ready to sleep. We can discuss the ground rules now or tomorrow morning, your choice,” Yoongi said, snapping you out of your observation of the apartment.

You nodded absently, wondering what other rules he had, “I can come down after changing.”

Yoongi hummed in response before taking off to the stairs, evidently going to change himself. You stood awkwardly by the entrance, not knowing exactly where your room was, and decided to take hesitant steps toward the stairs.

“Oh, Ms. Seo, let me help you to your room,” came Mrs. Lim’s comforting voice from the top of the stairs. You gratefully accepted her help and followed her through the halls as she gave you a tour.

“Over there is Mr. Min’s office, and just next to it, his bedroom. He has another office downstairs for his work, this one is more for personal use. There’s a bathroom here, but you have an en-suite bathroom in your bedroom anyway. There’s an extra room downstairs that I’ve fashioned into a bit of an office for you if you’d like to use it. That’s the guest bedroom there, the hallway bathroom is mainly for that one. Sometimes Mr. Min’s friends will stay over if they’ve drunk. Ah! Here’s your bedroom.”

You entered, enjoying Mrs. Lim’s chattering as she gave you a mini tour. Your bedroom was large with a queen-sized bed and soft-looking sheets with a fluffy comforter. There was a desk in the corner and a vanity in the other. You noted a door on the side that must lead to the bathroom, and your bags sitting on the floor by the desk.

“Through that door is your closet and bathroom. I’ve set up your closet for the most part and tried to make it homey, but please feel free to decorate it to your liking! I’m so excited to have another woman here long term, Mr. Min doesn’t always make for great company. Oh, but don’t tell him I said that!”

You giggled, enjoying the motherly presence Mrs. Lim provided, and began unpacking some of your bags from the day, “Thank you, Mrs. Lim. I appreciate you doing all this for me. And please, call me Y/N.”

“Of course. Do you need assistance getting out of your hanbok?”

“No, I think I’ll be alright, thank you.”

“Right, then I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be off shift now so I’ll be heading home, but please feel free to call me if you have any questions.”

“Of course, thank you, Mrs. Lim. Have a good night.”

She bowed before exiting and you breathed out, sitting on the plush bed, making the comforter balloon around you. The room was nice, definitely, but it felt a bit stale and unwelcoming. At least you could customize this area without having to worry about Yoongi. You opened the door to the closet, marveling at the size and open entrance into the bathroom with a large tub and shower. Your clothes were nicely organized and you had no trouble finding some pajamas to change into with an old shirt you’d stolen from Hoseok and shorts.

Quickly undressing, you neatly hung up your hanbok and slipped into the shower, grabbing the necessary toiletries from your bag. You relished in being able to wash the hair spray out of your hair and loosen it from your scalp, glaring at the pile of hairpins that sat on the granite counter you’d spent upwards of five minutes removing. The warm water soothed your aching legs and the soapy bodywash felt rejuvenating.

You swiftly finished showering, not wanting to keep Yoongi waiting, and wrapped yourself in a towel before loosely drying your hair. You preferred to let it air dry, so you only lightly patted it with a towel. Drying off the rest of your body, you donned new undergarments, pausing on whether or not to put on a bra. You usually didn’t wear bras to bed, but you didn’t want to go down to meet Yoongi braless.

You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and pulled on a comfortable sports bra, before slipping on your shorts and t-shirt, finally feeling comfortable. Quickly checking your reflection in the massive mirror, you headed down the stairs to meet Yoongi.

He was sitting on the leather couch in a loose white t-shirt and black sweatpants, almost taking your breath away at how beautifully casual he looked. You’d only seen him in suits so far and seeing him in loungewear with wet hair and a towel around his neck left you flustered. He noticed your presence, eyes running over your form making you feel embarrassed.

He gestured for you to join him on the couch, setting aside his phone to lean forward on his knees. You sat on the loveseat across from him, not quite sure what the etiquette was at this point.

“Okay, so I’ve already told you the general rules I have. Basically, don’t enter my space without knocking and please, do not go into my upstairs office. I’ll do the same for you. You’re free to set up your rooms however you like.”

You nodded, all of this seemed pretty fair so far.

“You can use the kitchen however you like, just let Mrs. Lim know what groceries you want. If I have guests over, I’d prefer if you stayed in your room, but I won’t force you. This space is as much yours as it is mine, now.”

You continued nodding along, making some notes of getting a TV for your room so you could properly entertain yourself when his friends were over. You wouldn’t exactly want him coming into the room when you’re with Hoseok and Joohee either.

“You can invite your friends over whenever you want, just let me know in advance. I’ll be sure to do the same for you. Also, if I have any of my own partners over,” he continued, the last words causing you to flinch, “I’ll make sure to let you know. Please just give us some privacy and try not to be out in the common space when they’re here. Of course, I’ll extend the same courtesy.”

The harsh reminder of the openness of the marriage left you squirming in the chair. You didn’t want to remember that Yoongi would be fucking other people in the home you shared.

“We can add things as we get used to living together. Anything you want to add?”

You shook your head quickly, just wanting to go to bed as soon as possible. Yoongi nodded, rising, before sparing you one last glance.

“Alright, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight,” you squeaked, watching him ascend the stairs. After his form disappeared into the hallway, you leaned back on the loveseat, exhaling harshly. What a conversation. You’d have to take some time to get used to this. You returned to your room feeling heavily conflicted. As you set up your phone and watch chargers, you thought over the conversation.

Objectively, Yoongi was being relatively fair, letting you exist in the space in the same capacity as him. Yet, you still felt unhappy. You knew why. You wanted him to be only yours, to have the same exclusive outlook you did on the relationship. You were upset with yourself more than him.

He had made this clear from the beginning, that he had no intention of stopping any partners outside of the relationship. He clearly didn’t want to have a relationship with you, sex or not, so what he was doing now was completely fair.

You couldn’t turn the emotional part of your brain that craved to have a real romantic relationship with him. It was almost annoying and you were frustrated at yourself for continuing to feel this way.

Climbing into bed, you continued wallowing, deciding that you’d pity yourself tonight, but the next day, you’d have to pull yourself together. You’d taken a couple of weeks off at the insistence of your boss, even though he knew you weren’t going on a honeymoon, and you wanted to enjoy sleeping in.

It was time to adopt Yoongi’s approach and try to remove yourself emotionally from the situation. How hard could it be?

Yoongi couldn’t focus on his book, ultimately setting it aside on his bedside table. He furiously rubbed at his eyes, feeling frustrated.

His eyes hadn’t been listening to him lately. They seemed to constantly wander after your figure, finding your face and curves at every corner. The past couple of days, they had barely strayed from you, watching as you cuddled up to that man, Hoseok.

Who was he? Were you two together? Was Hoseok in love with you? More importantly, why did it bother Yoongi so much?

He groaned, feeling annoyed that your relationship with Hoseok was getting to him so much. He had been the one to set the boundary of it being an open relationship, so why did it bother him so much that you seemed to be employing that? Yoongi knew that he had no right to feel this way and was only further annoyed that he continued to do so.

And what was with your budding friendship with Jeongguk? When did you two become so close? Yoongi buried his head in his hands, shouldn’t he be happy that his friends and wife are getting along?

Wife. It felt odd to say, or think, that. You were his wife now. Except he’d made it clear that the title didn’t change anything between you, nor would it change his actions. Despite his earlier resolve to not let this marriage affect him, you seemed to be having a great effect on him.

He’d followed your form and mannerisms throughout the past couple of days. He’d noticed your trembling hands and avoiding eye contact. When the two of you had been about to kiss, he could feel your body shaking beneath his hands, prompting him to cover your mouth for the kiss.

He hated how tempted he’d been to fully kiss you.

Throughout the rest of the ceremony and reception, you’d been largely withdrawn, until you’d met with Hoseok. Yoongi was frustrated that you didn’t seem to be able to stand up for yourself, that you played so well into the role of a trophy wife, but he’d been even more upset at your close contact with Hoseok.

The man had laid his hands on you so easily and seeing the way Hoseok’s fingers curled around your waist and your smile when you talked to him made Yoongi’s blood boil. Why hadn’t you smiled at him like that?

Yoongi bit his lip, he knew that wasn’t your fault. He hadn’t been welcoming at all to you, he’d barely given you a chance to talk to him. Yoongi was just steadfast in his mission to continue on with life as normal, he didn’t want this marriage to change anything. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to be upset with you going along with his requests.

You were dangerous.

You were dangerous in the way that you nodded along to everything Yoongi asked, in the way you refused to let your mask slip and show any emotion, in the way you smiled so brightly with Hoseok and Jeongguk, in the way your cheeks tinged pink when Taehyung kissed your hand and Namjoon smiled at you, and in the way you looked so comfortable and natural in your pajamas.

Yoongi had to suck in a breath when he saw you entering the living room with your freshly washed and damp hair, falling in wet curls strands around your shoulders, making a wet spot on the oversized dance team t-shirt.

That was another thing. Where had you gotten that shirt? It was far too big for you, Yoongi knew that well. It was obvious in the way it fell past the hem of your shorts, tantalizing his eyes to rake down your legs, and it was for a college dance team. Were you on one in college?

Or, Yoongi’s mind raced, was it Hoseok’s? Hadn’t the man said he worked in a dance studio? The thought made Yoongi fume, just how close had you two gotten?

But he paused, what right did he have to feel upset? Yoongi had been in bed with another woman just days ago, it wasn’t fair of him to judge you for doing the same. He’d said that you were allowed to sleep with or date whoever you wanted, so why was he so angry at the idea of you and Hoseok?

Another sigh escaped him, he didn’t have it in him to deal with this tonight. Just the idea of you a few rooms down in that too-big shirt and too-short shorts was enough to drive him crazy.

He reached over, turning off the lamp next to his bed. He’d unpack his feelings in the morning. Yoongi turned over, settling into bed, ignoring how empty and cold his hand felt without your warmth.

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