#when people swear off the final season of this series

[doortotomorrow]

SHIPS IN THE SPOTLIGHT : memori edition favourite storyline - becoming the leaders of sanctum

[woniverse-writes]

"MOTH TO A FLAME (part 1)"

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

part 1 ⟶ part 1.5

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 9k (holy shit)

warnings: swearing, reader is described as cute and small a lot, Bada is kinda confusing with her feelings, also this isn't proofread so... sorry for any mistakes lol- lemme know if I missed anything!

“I think Jam Republic is finally coming out-” someone states and the excited conversations start to fill up the studio. Jam Republic walks into the fight zone for their first introduction and they're all just very happy to be there. All the girls are smiling but Audrey and y/n have the biggest smiles on their faces out of anyone. Everyone is commenting on how pretty they are and how their smiles are so precious

“Wow, Audrey is like a doll! So pretty…” Tatter is outwardly in awe of the girls, much like some of her other teammates. But their leader, even though she agreed, was trying to keep the girls’ confidence up.

“True, but we’re prettier” she replied in a motherly tone and patted the blonde girl's head, causing them all to smile and giggle. Minah notices Jam Republic approaching the area they’re seated in, and shares a mischievous look with Lusher, before adding to the conversation-

“Y/n’s like a princess though. No one’s beating that” she states matter-of-factly, anticipating her leader’s response. Bada opens her mouth to say something but right as she’s about to speak, she and y/n make eye contact. Y/n smiles even bigger than she already is, eyes twinkling, and she bows politely greeting team Bebe. Bada is lowkey rendered speechless because she’s pretty sure she just saw an angel.

“Oh- h-hello” she struggles to speak and immediately after y/n turns away, Bada is grimacing and covering her face out of embarrassment, her teammates now laughing at her distress. She tries to laugh it off and put on a smile because of all the cameras around- she just really hopes they didn’t catch that and it won’t be aired.

As Jam Republic continues to stride across the stage, past all the other crews, getting a feel for the room, they finally settle in the middle- waiting for their video to be played. Audrey and Y/n are holding hands and giggling excitedly, while the rest of their team shares similar smiles and affectionate chuckles towards their youngest members.

Then the review video plays…

“I think they all want to be the main character- how are they ever gonna work together?” Y/n can’t help but huff out a laugh of disbelief, but she’s not quite angry yet. She felt a little twinge of annoyance but other than that, she thought it was kind of funny. 

“I’m gonna steal the spotlight from you” Audret whispered sarcastically, bumping her shoulder, causing y/n to laugh. They were smiling and giggling again… until the others started targeting her and Audrey.

“They’re like babies- I don’t think they’ll have any real skill.” All the members are just nodding and keeping their composure, with light smiles, except for y/n. Her smile has dropped into a frown and her brows are furrowed as she tries to understand how these people could so willingly make assumptions about them. And it only kept getting worse-

As their individual dance clips started to play y/n could already feel the tension inside her start to rising. After Kirsten, Ling, Latrice, and Emma’s clips all played- Y/n’s was next. It was a somewhat recent clip of her dancing to “Basics” by TWICE, where she’s got her signature bright smile, and is bouncing around, just enjoying the choreography. She loves that choreo and has always been proud of it because it was fun, so her smile started to come back a little while watching it. She tried ignoring everyone’s words, and for the most part, it worked, but she was still able to hear- 

“Isn’t this too juvenile? She doesn’t seem competitive at all.” 

And if there’s one thing y/n hates- it’s people doubting her passion. She’s always been very dedicated to dance, but she also learned how to have fun and enjoy it, while still working hard to always be improving. But to be honest, it didn’t upset her too much because she never really cared what people’s opinions were on her- as long as she was happy, healthy, and kind y/n couldn’t care less what people thought. Unless it was about someone she cares about, then that’s when problems arise. 

Audrey’s video played right after y/n’s and even though the older girl was keeping it together and even sporting a small smile, the same could not be said for her teammate. Y/n listened to everyone laugh and jeer at her friend, and she felt genuine violence start to bubble inside her. How dare they laugh at her? Who do they think they are? She clenched her jaw and felt any bit of respect she had for these people leave her body. Y/n was already over this shit. 

“I think they’re pretty dancers, but that’s it- they’re just pretty dancers.” The other teams ‘ooh’ at this and letter other noises of enablement. By now Y/n’s face has totally dropped, and there’s no expression besides a deadly look in her eyes. While everyone else is brushing it off with some laughs, especially Audrey, y/n can't help but feel her anger fully ignite into a blazing fire. Their video came to an end and while others applauded respectfully, y/n stood there- arms crossed with her head tilted slightly, a stone-cold expression overtaking her face.

"Oh my god- y/n is the only one not smiling anymore" Akanen pointed out from Tsubakill’s side of the room. To which Rena gasped and replied “Eh?! Oh no! She looks so upset!” and the others all focused solely on her. other teams seem to be thinking similarly.

"Audrey is laughing about it like it's nothing and y/n looks like she's about to kill everyone who picked her as the worst dancer…" Mina Myoung jokes, laughing at the young girl. Some of her members laughed with her, while others just observed with cautious eyes. They didn’t want to accidentally make eye contact with Jam Republic’s seemingly small but mighty dancer.

"From everything I've seen of Y/n, I never thought I'd see her without a smile- more importantly I never thought I'd see her look that angry" Harimu gasps, gripping Redy’s shoulders, pulling herself to hide behind her slightly. Peaking over Redy’s shoulder, she listens to the older girl reply in a tone just as fearful as her own. "I didn't even think she'd be able to make such a scary face" Redy laughs but trembles a little.

"Oh my- wow, she looks so much older with that look on her face…" Funky Y openly expresses how baffled she is to her crew, with wide eyes and mouth slightly dropped open. Yoonji replies quickly in a frantic tone

"Like she's not a baby anymore, suddenly she became a Lion" she animatedly expressed with a growl after to prove her point. And her members can’t help but huff out a few laughs and roll their eyes at her antics. But still- even as they joke around, all are still weary of how y/n will act now.

All of the dancers quickly took notice of y/n’s 180 switch in vibe, and couldn’t help their conversations- some frantic, some laughing and continuing their degrading energy that got her all worked up in the first place, some fearful… and then there was Bebe.

"Woooah… what happened to cutie y/n? She's scary now-" Bada marvels at the small girl standing at the back of her team, with her arms crossed. She really was just as confused as everyone else on how y/n could go from being this darling princess with a dazzling smile and sparkly eyes- to this ice-cold girl who might start calling people out by names soon if she gets pushed any further. 

Bada’s teammates look at her, and some nod, while Tatter holds back a laugh, mumbling her leader’s words to herself, 

“Cutie…” Minah and Lusher hear her and start giggling, causing Tatter to start giggling as well. Bada doesn’t seem to hear them- that or she just pretends not to, cuz she sits there, unbothered, leaning her elbows on her knees, observing the scene before her with a barely-there smirk.

y/n continues to glare at the screen ahead of her and tries to contain her rage. Latrice puts a gentle hand on her shoulder and y/n just nods her head, poking her inner cheek with her tongue, trying her best not to say something that will definitely get her kicked off the show. Audrey sees how furious her bestie is and turns to poke her cheek playfully, of course with a smile still on her face

"heyyyy, don't stress. It's okay!" she puts an arm around the younger girl's shoulders and continues

"Plus this is just another great opportunity to show everyone what we've got!" and of course, Audrey, ever the optimist, successfully calms her down. y/n sighs and leans into the taller girl.

"I know, I just hate how almost all of them think we suck just cuz we're young." 

"well they also think we suck cuz we're pretty" And Basically everyone watching is like- "Aw they're still cuties, even though y/n can be scary". 

Bada can't help but laugh at them, specifically y/n

 "She's pouting now. Cute." She chuckles softly with a small smile on her face, as she sits, elbows resting on her knees, with her hands clasped. Lusher can't help but side-eye her leader and chuckle as well but for a different reason

"Bada, you seem a little too interested in her" She snaps out of whatever daze she was in, sitting straight up and looking over at Lusher for a second, before turning to look back at the front where Jam Republic is now exiting

"I'm interested in a lot of people here." she explains cooly, surveying the room

"Not true-" Tatter leans over from the other side of Bada to look her right in the eyes "We can all tell you haven't found a single person here interesting, until her- or at least her team."

____________

"She looks kind of scary now…" Yoonji whispers to her teammates looking at y/n. Redlic looks in the direction Yoonji is looking at and laughs a little.

"What're you talking about? y/n? She looks like a kitten trying to be a lion." Now the rest of ManneQueen is staring at Jam Republic, specifically y/n l/n. And sure enough, instead of her usual bright and smiling self, her eyes were back to being fiery and to put it bluntly, she looks pissed the fuck off again. Waackxxy was the one to turn to Redlic and go-

“No, she’s definitely got something fierce going on right now… I hope she has a lot of battle cuz I’m kind of interested in her now…” causing the rest of her team to laugh and agree. On the other side, Jam Republic is having their own discussion regarding y/n. 

“I think you should just wait and see- maybe no one will even pick you as a “no respect” dancer!” Ling tried cheering up her younger teammate.

“No I want someone to battle me- I want everyone who voted for me and Audrey to come and try us” y/n fired back with her arms crossed as she leaned back into her chair. She really did look intimidating, especially with her makeup and hair done. Audrey on the other hand was not feeling the same fire-

“Uhm, maybe we don’t need everyone to want to battle us…maybe just a few.” Audrey started to reason, 

”Cuz I don’t know if you remember, but there were a LOT of people that voted for us as the worst dancers…” which caused Kirsten and Ling to sigh, and y/n to roll her eyes and clench her jaw.

“Audrey, my love, I’m very well aware of how many people think we suck-“ 

“You don’t suck-” 

“Thank you Emma, but please give me a second”

“Y/n take a deep breath and check your well-being”

She sighed at their team leader’s advice, knowing it was to help her out and so that she didn’t get too fired up with her teammates. It’s not that y/n doesn’t get along with them- it’s the furthest thing from that, she adores her teammates- but she gets very passionate about everything, and she’s a bit of a hothead. On top of all that, y/n is very protective of those she cares about, some of those people being her dear teammates.

“I’m sorry” she mumbles a bit, but ultimately huffs out the response. To which Kirsten replies with a motherly “thank you”, causing the others to chuckle.

“I just don’t understand how they can all collectively make the assumption that we’re not as good as them- for what? Why? Because we’re foreigners? Because we smile a lot? Because we’re pretty? To me THAT just sounds like jealousy” y/n continues to rant, frantically moving her hands and arms about, expressing her frustration- and her team just listens patiently for her to finish. Once she finally lets out her final huff and relaxes back into her chair with her arms crossed again, and a pout now sporting her face, her teammates can’t help but smile gently at their youngest member- some even trying to hide giggles and chuckles of endearment. 

“Y/n, sweetheart, you’ve gotta remember- not everyone thinks like you- I wish they did, but they just don’t” Kirsten starts to comfort her, and places a hand on her head, trying her best to calm down the passionate young girl. 

Kirsten always felt like asking y/n to join her team was one of the best choices she made in regards to being a leader. She knew the younger girl had experience in kpop dance styles, having performed at multiple k-con stages and doing countless covers from other groups, even choreographing her own routines to kpop songs for fun and still getting the attention of the original artist. Kirsten also saw an unlimited amount of potential in y/n and saw how quickly and easily she absorbed everything around her. The only thing she was worried about was how young she was. it wasn’t a huge concern to her since their whole team was pretty young, but when it came down to it, Kirsten ended up adding Audrey in as well, and the two hit it off right away! To be completely honest- Kirsten felt as if the three youngest members were her babies. Audrey being the sweet angel of a golden child, Emma being the responsible oldest, and y/n being the chaotic troublemaker who’s always trying to pick a fight with someone for hurting her sisters. 

“You just need to remember that we’re here to dance, have fun, and gain a new experience… alright?” Kirsten has successfully reduced her gremlin child to a less angry (but still very pouty) version of herself.

“…alright” y/n mumbled.

“Thank you. Now please stop pouting, you look like a kicked puppy and the others will probably start picking on you soon” Kirsten teased lightly, which caused Audrey to join in and start poking y/n’s cheek, leading to Emma tugging gently on her hair, and Ling poking her other cheek, all while Latrice coos at her and pats her head. This all of course causes her to start whining and complaining playfully at her members teasing.

But the endearment for each other doesn’t end outside of the members' little cluster. the love for Jam Republic, and specifically y/n, has now spread to the entire studio. as everyone originally took notice of the youngest member’s slight temper tantrum, most didn’t really know what she was ranting about, but they could tell she was once again not happy at all. The two teams sitting nearest to Jam Republic happened to be Bebe and 1Million, who originally both had members that intended to battle y/n, but after hearing her rant, some opinions changed. 

“I like her style! She’s very passionate” Harimu laughed as she explained her newfound interest in Jam Republic’s youngest. 

“That’s what I was thinking- I don’t even wanna battle her anymore, especially after how scary she looked before- I just wanna watch her tear up the stage with all her energy” Redy chimed in.

“Do you think we should go up to her during break and try to become friends?” They begin to laugh and joke around about their shared interest in y/n. But their team’s older members aren’t quite on the same level of endearment.

“Ya- you two should be trying to take her down before befriending her, don’t you think?” Lia warns the two girls, who just look at each other and start giggling.

“I don’t know if I’d necessarily wanna go up against someone with her temper” Redy starts off jokingly, but Harimu is already coming back in a teasing mood-

“Yeah cuz you’d probably cry.” Which has Redy letting a gasp-  her jaw dropped to the floor, eyes wide with shock and (false) betrayal.

The other team seated next to Jam Republic isn’t as chipper as 1 Million though, as their leader is trying to convince her team to stick with their guts.

“You wanted to battle her at first for a reason- why would that reason change if you still haven’t seen her dance?” Bada asks Kyma, Sowoen, and Minah. They all voted y/n as the worst dancer because her style was too “pretty” and they thought she relied on having cute expressions. Bada didn’t entirely agree with her teammates, but everyone is entitled to their own opinion. She even originally stated how she thought y/n’s style was refreshing and youthful, but she was worried about how she’d be with darker concepts.

“Well- I mean- she seems kinda crazy…” Cheche halfheartedly joked, but in reality, she was being completely serious.

“Why? Because she’s angry? She should be angry. Being voted as the worst dancer isn’t something to be happy about…” Bada replies calmly. No one really says anything, as they all are just trying to process whether or not their leader is provoking them, or if she’s defending their opponent because she thinks she’s cute. 

Bada sighs and stands up to stretch. She wants her team to not only be amazing dancers, but critical thinkers too. Of course, Bada wants a win, but she also wants her team to be strong- and if going up against someone with untouchable morale and endless energy will force her teammates to be stronger, then that’s what they need to do.

She also may or may not be personally interested in seeing what y/n is made of. After all, she caught her attention originally with her bright smile and explosive personality- then again shortly after with how serious and intimidating she gets when people question her abilities. Bada thought her bold expressions and reactions to things were an endearing contrast from her cute or refreshing facials used when dancing. So now having seen y/n in stark opposition, she’s even more interested.  

They all finish up introductions and meet the judges, then are sent off to get changed and prepare for the battles that are about to ensue. Jam Republic’s hideout is full of conversation from the second they enter the room.

“Well besides y/n almost setting the place on fire, I think that went well!” Ling chirps, smiling in faux satisfaction at her teammates, who let out variations of laughs.

“I can’t believe they think so lowly of us” Audrey finally expresses her disappointment, sharing a kicked puppy look with y/n, who longer feels angry, just tired. The younger of the two just leans her head on her friend's shoulder and stays quiet.

“I know, but that’s exactly why we’re gonna go out there and show every single one of them how wrong they were, right?” Kirsten encourages with her once again motherly tone and warm smile.

Bebe’s hideout conversations on the other hand are going quite a bit differently than Jam Republic’s…

“So moral of the story: I’m scared of a five-foot-nothing, angel-faced, baby who may or may not have the ability to shoot lasers out of her eyes.” 

“Minah, what the fuck are you even saying right now-” Tatter sits and stares at her teammate with a concerned look. Minah and Kyma have been going back and forth since they got back about how they regret picking y/n as their no-respect dancer already, because of how quickly and drastically her personality changed when she got upset.

“I’m just saying- I feel like if I looked her in the eyes at that moment, I would've died.” Minah replies dramatically, and Kyma nods her head enthusiastically in agreeance. Bada huffs out a laugh and rolls her eyes at the two members’ antics.

“You do realize she’s still just a kid, right? You have nothing to worry about. Even if she does look scary, she’s probably all bark and no bite” Bada smirks slightly and leans back comfortably on the couch in their space.

“Weren’t you just saying how cute she was?” Lusher side-eyes her as she questions.

“Yes, and? That’s exactly my point. She’s too cute, so there’s no way she’d actually be able to go through with whatever she looked like she could've done.” Bada reasons, shrugging. Everyone just sighs and new conversations arise. 

After all the teams have finished preparing, they all head back down to the main studio and take their seats again. The judges are all prepared and after a slight re-introduction by Daniel, the host, the battles are set to begin. 

Bada being part of the first battle of the season was definitely necessary, and her win practically secured her spot as the best dancer involved in the program. 

Everyone was hyped especially the members of Jam Republic, who were all just very happy to be there- even y/n, who had managed to calm down from her original state of rage, and now she’s back to her excited, vibrant self, of course wearing a giant smile. The girls all cheered and at some point (she doesn’t know when) y/n ended up clinging to Emma with wide eyes and jaw dropped. After Bada finished everyone obviously went crazy with an uproar of applause, but y/n could only let out a few claps, as she was still shell-shocked. Ling glanced at her teammate and started laughing

“Did you enjoy that y/n?” Y/n, still in a daze, puts the back of her hand on her cheek, then her forehead

“My face feels so hot right now”

“Oh my god y/n! You’re like- actually a tomato!!” Kirsten noticed her youngest dancer’s flustered state and couldn’t help but bring attention to it. With all her teammates' eyes on her now, they giggle as she starts whining and covering her face, collapsing into a ball on the floor. She looks up at Ling, who gently pats her head, and goes

“I don’t think I’m gonna survive this” sending all of her members into a fit of laughter over their youngest dancer’s uncontrollable admiration.

“The way she got up in Redy’s face- UGH I WOULD’VE DIED” she continues fangirling, catching the attention of a few of the other dancers- specifically from Bebe. Lusher is the first to glance sideways at y/n with wide eyes and a hidden smile- she’ll have to tell Bada about it afterward. 

When it’s revealed that Bada won, y/n just about flew twelve feet in the air, that’s how high she jumped. Bada acted coolly and honestly pretty cold toward Redy, but the second she made eye contact with y/n, she smiled charmingly causing the already flustered girl to smile even brighter. She sits back down with her crew and Lusher leans over to whisper in her ear,

“I think y/n really likes you” she teases, causing Bada to roll her eyes and glare. 

“Enough…” the older girl warns playfully, in tow causing Lusher to raise her hands in defense.

“Alright, fine- but just know she really enjoyed your performance.” and the conversation ended there.

During Kirsten’s battle with Waackxxy, the members of Jam Republic are once again hyped up, but this time- it’s tenfold. 

Y/n is standing on top of the front row of their team’s bleachers, jumping up and down so much that at one point she nearly slips. Emma and Audrey are of course both there to keep her out of trouble (like always) and they all make eye contact before bursting out laughing

From across the room- Bada is pretty much just as invested as they are. Except she’s a little more focused on one of the members who ISN’T currently dancing. She of course paid attention to Kirsten’s battle and was genuinely blown away by her style- But Bada couldn’t help but get distracted by the small girl a little bit behind her, screaming and jumping like her life depended on it. She tried not to smile or laugh at y/n’s antics but she couldn’t help it when she almost fell off the bleachers. At first- when she watched her slip, Bada felt herself tense up, almost as if her instant reaction was to reach out and try to catch her from across the room. But once she realized y/n was alright (and that she’d have been fine had she fallen from the short height) she shook her head laughed, but more at herself for feeling so protective of this girl she hadn’t even spoken to yet.

Shortly after Kirsten’s first battle, Audrey has hers- Which means, y/n is about to be at her peak of hype woman realness. When Audrey's name is called, y/n shoots straight up and gets right to hyping her best friend up. She’s smiling and rubbing her shoulders and shaking her around a bit to show her excitement, and finally, the two do their signature handshake that they’ve done before every performance together since they became friends

Bada again watched from the opposite side, and she couldn’t help but feel extra critical while watching Audrey. There was nothing wrong with Audrey’s dancing! In fact- Bada was thoroughly impressed, (but she wishes she wasn’t). Instead of catching y/n’s reactions, this time she was totally focused on the dancers- Bada was curious as to what made y/n so defensive of Audrey, and now she understands a little better. That doesn’t ease her feelings of discomfort though, especially as the battle comes to an end and she watches y/n pounce on Audrey the second the timer runs out. What frustrated her even more was how quickly she became self-aware in that moment. Wait- why do I care so much? She was asking herself as her eyes darted to the floor.

And when she was announced the winner, Bada applauded and cheered, but again felt bitter seeing Jam’s Republic’s two youngest members be cute together. Now all Bada can focus on is why she herself is so bothered by y/n clinging to her teammate, and smiling like Audrey just won the Olympics.

“She seems like a really clingy person” Bebe members all look at Bada and then follow her line of sight to Audrey and y/n- or rather y/n sticking to Audrey and congratulating her. Lusher is the first to speak up again,

“Audrey?” she questions, peaking over at Bada in confusion, whose eyes are fixed back on y/n.

“No, y/n”

“Oh, of course”

Lusher’s response is sarcastic and causes the others to laugh lightly at the sub-leader’s attitude towards their oldest member. Bada once again has no reaction as she’s too focused on y/n smiling angelically, celebrating Jam Republic’s win.

“Omg please don’t tell me you’re already jealous” Sewoen teased and Tatter laughed hysterically. Bada raised her eyebrows and finally turned to look at the girls.

“Me? What would I be jealous of?” she pouts slightly when she talks. Even though she seems all tough, and tall, and cold- only one of those things is true. Bada is really a big softie- a baby angel trapped in a 5’9 body. Her teammates know this all too well as they halt their teasing for a moment to admire their cute leader. But that obviously doesn’t last forever.

“Bada-” Lusher tilts her head, exasperated. She stares at the older girl for a few seconds in disbelief, before letting out a huff of a laugh again. Bada’s eyes just widen as she looks around at her team- she really is confused, because while yes- she is starting to realize she may have a genuine crush on y/n, Bada thought she was doing a pretty good job at hiding it!

“What?? I’m serious- I'm not jealous of anyone” She tries to laugh it off and move on but the only reaction she gets is a few side-eyes from the other members. So she lets out a sigh and hangs her head in embarrassment.

“Let’s just leave it please” She smiles timidly, and THIS causes the other girls to laugh.

Many more battles occur before it’s finally Y/n’s chance to dance. When she’s called up to pick her no-respect dancer, y/n smiles brightly and walks to the center.

"So I actually have a lot of respect for this dancer, and I kind of selfishly chose her for the opportunity to share the stage with her and feed off her energy…" she starts, making sure to survey the whole room before eyes finally land on Bebe

"No way she's gonna pick Bada", "is y/n really about to pick Bada???", "Ya, she must be insane" excited murmurs fill the studio as everyone anticipates her pick.

Bada tries to keep her expression neutral, but she can't help how her eyes widen when she makes eye contact with the young dancer standing in front of her crew. Bada thinks y/n looks cute holding the mic with both hands, poking her tongue out and smiling nervously.

Y/n takes a deep breath and walks slowly toward the team she's been eyeing up

"For my no respect dancer, I'd like to battle Bebe's…" It feels like everyone is holding their breath. Y/n holds eye contact with Bada but breaks it with a nod

"Lusher"

Everyone goes crazy, even Lusher herself- She stands up and bows, smiling brightly, and as she starts to descend the bleachers they're sat in, she turns to Bada with wide eyes and whispers-

"I for sure thought she was gonna be calling your name…" she started seriously

"Hm… guess not yet" she teases her leader and Bada shoves her away

"Ya, go dance or something" she mumbles, already exhausted from dealing with the teasing of her members. Lusher meets Y/n halfway and actually reaches out to shake her hand, to which a nervous Y/n excitedly and politely bows and shakes her hand

"Good luck" Lusher smiles gently and y/n's eyes twinkle a little more at the kindness

"Thank you so much, you too!" and then they're separating and heading back to their sides to start the battle. Bada can't help but roll her eyes at her younger teammate, because while she's appreciative of the good sportsmanship, she knows it's really just to tease her more. Once Lusher heads back to Bebe’s side, Bada is behind her with a hand on her shoulder, talking calmly and softly.

"You know this is a cutthroat competition right? You're not supposed to be nice to your opponent- especially since she chose you as her "no respect" dancer-" Bada begins firmly

"Bada, did you listen to a word she said before? Or did you block it all out after you realized she wasn't talking about you?" Tatter laughed, once again taking the opportunity to tease the group leader

On the other side, Jam Republic is also teasing their group member

"I for sure thought you were gonna pick Bada" Latrice stated, massaging y/n's shoulders, shaking her around a bit to keep her energy up. She didn't say anything, just laughed and rolled her eyes. Noticing the lack of reaction, Ling reaches over and pinches her cheek-

"Are you kidding, y/n would probably forget how to breathe if she had to go up against Bada" causing them all to burst out laughing, including the youngest. She moves out of they're teasing reach and steps onto the dance floor. Daniel introduces the two again and allows them to do their little speeches before the battle actually starts. Y/n goes first and she has that same nervous smile back on her face, but her eyes still twinkle with excitement

"As much as I do respect you, I apologize because I'm still going to compete and perform like I don't"  she finishes, trying to seem cool, but she ends up giggling a little. Everyone obviously loses their shit and starts screaming, and even Lusher is clapping and nodding with approval

"Y/n-ya" Everyone's eyes widen, especially Y/n's, as they anticipate Lusher's comeback

"I appreciate your admiration, but there won't be any sharing of the stage, cuz it's all mine" and cue the 'oohs' and 'aahs' from the other dancers, and y/n just smiles and nods. They turn over their mics and prepare for the music to start

"First up- Bebe! LUSHEEEEER" Daniel shouts out and the music comes in as everyone cheers. She starts with some smooth groves and then hits all the accents once the beat drops. Y/n just felt happy to be there, face scrunched up showing how impressed she is with her opponent's moves. Bada tried to solely focus on Lusher, but she couldn’t help but eye up the opposing dancer. and if anyone happened to notice and ask her about it, Bada would just tell them that she was inspecting the competition for the sake of her team…

As Lusher's time runs out, she finishes off strong by getting in y/n's face and ruffling the shorter girl's hair while smirking, causing her to giggle and poke the inside of her cheek with her tongue. She nodded as Daniel announced the switch, and she anticipated everyone's reactions

CL's "Tie a Cherry" starts playing from the pre-chorus and everyone gets even more hyped- some were jumping around and screaming, some grabbed onto their hair, some just had wide eyes and jaw dropped. Lusher stood similar to the last group- eyes wide and jaw dropped to the floor, but she still smiled and laughed in astonishment. Y/n smiled coolly and nodded her head to the beat before bouncing to get into the feel. She does a quick spin around and her vibe has completely changed again- 

Everyone notices the different look in her eyes and they all start fangirling amongst themselves again, expressing how excited they are to see her dance. Lusher stands back and watches, amused and somewhat proud, like she's just got herself a new friend- a friend that challenges her by picking a song that she already danced to with the artist.

Bada on the other hand is trying to control her emotions and reactions again- standing behind with the rest of her team, hand covering her mouth, brows furrowed. She's stressing rn, but not because she's scared that Lusher will lose (frankly, she could care less about that) but rather because she doesn't know how she's gonna last a whole season of watching y/n dance without reacting in the most obvious ways possible- especially since she has a reputation to uphold. Now- Bada has never really cared about that type of stuff, she's chill and doesn't really care whether or not people think she's cool. But this- this feeling she gets while watching y/n dance- is a whole new level of uncool. To be completely honest- Bada feels pathetic.

y/n's been hitting every beat, leaving it all out on the floor- her movements are explosive and captivating. So much so, that certain viewers are mesmerized even by the smallest aspects of her performance that she doesn't even have control over.

"Woooow… how does her hair just perfectly fall into place…" Bada's mesmerized voice doesn't fit in with the chaotic energy and screams, so it catches the attention of Tatter, who looks over to see a dazed leader with a slight blush painted on her cheeks, and she bursts out laughing.

"Bada… you need to pull yourself together" she laughs. but right as she finishes her sentence and looks back to watch the rest of the dance, the iconic "razzi shots" line occurs and y/n handles it perfectly.

Right as the "razzi shots" line is played through the speaker, y/n's whole body reacts as if electrified- her articulation is so on point that the final hit of her movement mixed with her unmatched expression sends everyone spiraling into a frenzy. And it only got worse as her next movements were smooth, yet articulated combinations of body rolls and hip swivels, leaving everyone with jaws dropped. No one expected the cute, sometimes fiery, girl to have such an alluring, sexy side to her. Especially Bada, who is now fumbling between covering her eyes and her mouth cuz she's so flustered she doesn't know what to do. And the fact that she doesn't understand why she's feeling this way is making her even more flustered.

Y/n's time is about to run out as she slides onto the ground, and with a flip of her hair, she hits a sexy pose that's all tied together with a seductive smile. The applause are the loudest they’ve been so far, everyone is beyond baffled after watching her perform. She stays in her pose for a second, basking in the attention, and to make it even better she daintily bites her finger and puts on a cute-clueless kind of sexy facade. As if she didn’t just completely destroy everyone’s expectations of her. 

After a couple of seconds of holding her pose, she laughs at herself and stands up, first bowing to Lusher, then turning to the audience on her side and bowing- which causes another uproar. Y/n’s brilliant smile is back and she can’t help but clap her hands and cheer with everyone else. The sweet girl who loves to perform was back and she was once again just happy to be there.

The time comes for the judges to decide the winner and in a clean sweep, 3-0, y/n takes the win. Everyone cheers, and y/n comes running up to Lusher to shake her hand again, but Lusher pulls her into a hug instead before pulling back and holding onto the smaller girl's shoulders.

"You're literally so amazing- I was totally joking before, let's share the stage all the time" Lusher jokes around, a genuine smile on her face, but still a teasing lilt in her voice.

"Oh so now you wanna share cuz I won?" y/n teases back, causing Lusher to laugh and shove her shoulder gently, the two girls smiling and giggling together.

"You wish that was you, huh?" Tatter whispers to Bada as they watch from their seats. Bada just turns to look at her with the most fed-up look, causing the blonde to let out a snort of a laugh. As Lusher strides back over to Bebe’s side, she’s smiling still as she looks at her team and shrugs her shoulders. They all hurry to pat her on the back and tell her how well she did, no matter the outcome. 

“Y/n is no joke, you guys should be scared to challenge her for sure now.” She looks specifically at the three who had picked her as their no-respect dancer. Causing them all to sigh and chuckle a little in defeat. 

“It’s okay- we’re stronger. We have to be.” They all turn to look at their leader in disbelief. They've all noticed how she’s been acting toward y/n, and find it hard to believe Bada actually thinks they could beat her- shit they would even agree that Bada doesn’t think anyone could beat her. 

“Whatever you say, captain…” Tatter replies and they all turn their attention back to the front. 

As everyone finishes up their individual dance battles, and the battle of the aces finishes off- the teams are released to go prepare for the group battle. Everyone begins heading to their respective rooms, but one dancer stalls behind her crew by a few steps. y/n keeps peaking over her shoulder every so often, to glance back at Bebe. She simply wanted to ask Lusher for her phone number, but the girl didn’t seem to be with her team. She eventually stopped walking altogether and when y/n looked forward again, she realized the rest of her team was so far ahead she’d have to jog to catch up. 

“Were you looking for someone?” y/n whips back around and is met with the rest of Bebe, more specifically their leader, who is a lot closer than she expected her to be. Her eyes turn into saucers and she seems to struggle a little to find words.

“Oh- actually- well yeah actually I was…” y/n nervously smiled and looked up at Bada, hoping that her face wasn’t turning red already. Bada gave a gentle smile in return. She looked relaxed, cool, but in her head she was trying to keep calm and not squeeze the cute girl in front of her.

“I was wondering where Lusher went, actually.” the Jam Republic dancer spoke up a little more confidently this time- still very shy, but definitely was able to speak without stuttering, which is progress!

“Mmm” Bada hummed and nodded, seemingly understanding. She held eye contact with the younger girl, before asking, 

“Why?” to anyone on the outside looking in, this situation probably looks like a gang of scary tall women harassing some poor girl- which is exactly what Audrey is thinking when she turns to ask y/n a question and looks back to see her many meters away, conversing with Bebe’s leader, while the rest of the crew stands behind her.

“Oh my god- we lost y/n” she starts to panic, causing all the older members to whip around and look at Audrey like she’s crazy, then look at the spot next to her where the youngest member usually stood. Kirsten takes a deep breath before releasing it and shaking her head, Emma and Ling are genuinely in shock, and Latrice just looks at each of the members before laughing and starting to head back towards the direction they came from, to retrieve their baby.

Meanwhile, said baby is still struggling through a conversation with “the love of her life”, as she described to her team after watching Bada battle Redlic.

“Uhm- well I was looking for Lusher hoping I could get her number, or give her mine, cuz… because I really enjoyed dancing with her!” y/n finishes off strong and Bada just tilts her head in an amused, yet condescending way. Y/n finally took the opportunity to actually look at her, and wow, does she wish she didn’t, because if her face wasn’t on fire before, it sure is now. Bada was standing confidently with her feet planted shoulder-width apart and her hands casually in her pockets. Y/n was usually good at acknowledging an attractive woman leaving it at that- but this shit was just too overwhelming for the poor girl. 

“She went to go refill her water, but she should be back soon. We were obviously heading to our room so if you wanna come back with us and wait for her, you’re more than welcome to.” Tatter speaks up in a chipper voice from beside Bada. She could see how red the girl’s face had gotten and wanted to help her out a little by putting her focus on something other than Bada. although her comment only seemed to make it worse-

“Oh! Oh no, that’s okay! I don’t want to intrude, and I- I should probably get back to my group anyways to prepare for the battle-” y/n frantically starts to ramble, her face somehow even brighter red than before. Bada couldn’t help the amused smirk that spread across her face.

“How about you just give me your number and I’ll give it to her?” Bada cuts her off, and not only do y/n’s eyes grow four times in size but so do Bada’s teammates’. They all try to discreetly glance at each other without freaking out, cuz since when was their leader this bold???

“Yeah… yeah of course.” Bada smiles and y/n is about to give her number, right when-

“We seriously need to put you on a leash, girl” Latrice laughs and puts her hand on y/n’s shoulder, leaving her to jump in surprise a little, not expecting her crew to have showed up behind her. The young girl let out a relieved sigh and then a tired laugh. She glanced back at Bada and the rest of Bebe then bowed slightly.

“Thank you so much for your help, but I'll just keep an eye out and try to catch her later” she speaks softly and smiles politely before moving to finally head back to her waiting room with her members. As she’s about to round the corner, y/n looks over her shoulder and shouts a sweet “good luck!” then waves cutely. 

Bebe is still standing in the same spot they were in when y/n left when Lusher finally made her way back to them.

“Why are we just standing in the hall… I thought you guys would be back in our room already.” She eyes up her crew suspiciously, looking at every one of them before landing on Bada.

“Well, we would’ve been if Bada hadn’t decided to harass y/n” Kyma pipes up, and Lusher sends a look that can only be explained as concern and disbelief toward Bada.

“Excuse me, I did not HARASS her???” Bada looks over at the girl with an incredulous look.

“Right, you just tortured the poor girl and acted so cold she probably thought you were gonna eat her-” “EAT HER???? WHAT AM I NOW? A WOLF???”

“Well-” Tatter chimes in this time, “you did kind of give off that vibe when she was talking to you just now.”

“Okay- we can get back to unpacking that later. Why was she even over here?” Lusher interrupted the flow of conversation. Bada sighed and hesitated before sharing

“She actually was looking for you…” she started calmly. Noticing Lusher’s confused expression, she continued

“y/n was asking for your number… said it was because she really enjoyed dancing with you.” Bada smiled a little as she shared this information with her teammate, who in turn also smiled. Lusher’s wide eyes and light grin, made Bada realize how she actually had the opportunity to get y/n’s number and failed miserably. 

“But she said she’d come find you later, so be on the lookout.” the group leader stoically expressed. Lusher hums and nods, mentally pocketing the information. They finally head back to their room and begin to prepare for the battle.

As ALL of Jam Republic enters their room, the first they do after shutting the door is all turn to face y/n. All of the members stare in anticipation, waiting for her to burst.

“So are you gonna tell us what the hell you were doing talking to Bada Lee?” Latrice urges with a teasing grin. Everyone continued to wait for y/n to start excitedly ranting, but it never came.

“I feel…” the youngest starts and they all lean in slightly, waiting for her to express everything vividly,

“I feel really confused.” She finishes her statement in a daze and honestly, the members are now convinced she’s totally out of it.

“Oh my god… what did she say to you?” “Are you okay?” “Do we need to fight her?” Emma and Audrey go back and forth with their questions, hurrying to bring y/n to sit in between them on the couch.

“She just… she’s… I just really love women, and I think I specifically am going to fall in love with that woman, and I think I'm gonna die” she rants outwardly, still in a daze. All of her members lean back slightly, flabbergasted by the youngest’s statement. Kirsten tries to keep her jaw off the floor but she puts up a hand and tries to dismiss the situation for the time being

“Well… uh… alright should we prepare for the battle, and revisit this later?” “yes please” “alright awesome, thank you for sharing y/n” “yeah, no problem”

All teams have gathered again in the main competition area for the group battle, all fired up again and ready to rumble. The energy is high as all groups compete, the mission’s final ranking is announced and Jam Republic celebrates their decent rank of fourth place. With Bebe placing right above them in third, y/n turns to the groups and claps for them, making eye contact with Lusher and giving her a thumbs up, which is returned. 

They wrap up and begin to head back to their rooms again. Y/n approaches Bebe with a bright smile and hopes that Lusher will come right forward and save the other girl from embarrassing herself again in front of the group’s leader. But it turns out Lusher has other plans. She skips down the bleachers and smiles at y/n before walking right past her.

“Bada, can you get y/n’s number for me, I have to use the restroom- thanks!” she shouts as she retreats, causing all of her teammates to laugh in shock, except her leader. Bada, unprepared for the confrontation, is a little flustered and doesn’t know if she’ll be able to put up the same act as before. 

Bada stands from her seat and calmly and coolly strides towards y/n. She pulls out her phone and opens the contact app, handing it to the small girl with a relaxed, almost bored, expression. When y/n doesn’t do anything at first, she looks up at Bada with wide puppy eyes, and Bada swears she stopped breathing for a second.

“You can just put your information in my phone and I'll send it to Lusher” the team leader explains, hoping y/n can’t tell how worked up and tense she is right now. 

“Oh- yeah. duh” Y/n awkwardly laughs and enters her information before looking back up again with bright eyes to ask-

“Can I give myself a contact picture?” She doesn’t seem awkward or nervous at all when she asks for permission, and Bada finds it adorable. She couldn't help the endeared laugh that escaped her, and she was honestly okay with it because afterward the vibe totally changed.

“Of course you can give yourself a picture” Bada responds with a gentle, amused smile and y/n feels her nerves start to dissipate, as Bada’s genuine smile makes her feel warm and fuzzy, and she never wants to stop seeing such a beautiful thing.

Y/n poses for her contact photo by simply doing a peace sign and sticking out her tongue. Bada again giggles at her cuteness and thanks her when she hands her phone back. She’s about to speak when the Jam dancer beats her to it-

“Even though I technically gave you my number for Lusher, you should definitely still text me too, so I have your number as well!” y/n confidently speaks, but the blush painting her cheeks betrays her nerves. Bada’s eyes widen, genuinely shocked at her bold request.

“Of course- I’ll text you right now.” and so she does. Y/n giggles as she watches Bada take a similar selfie to her, which she receives moments later.

“That’s for my contact picture by the way-” the older girl jokes, which causes y/n to burst out laughing. She was surprised that this Bada was the same person as the one who almost had her fainting in the hallways earlier. The two talked and laughed some more- they really couldn’t get enough of each other.

“You know, I was freaking out during your battle with Redy- when you got in her face and started like- making fun of her height or whatever you'd call that- oh my god it was amazing! My face got so hot watching that” y/n excitedly expressed her admiration, but realized a few seconds too late how she possibly exposed herself. And she felt her face heat up immediately when Bada tilted her head and smirked teasingly.

“Oh? Why was your face all hot? Huh?” Bada teases, standing firmly with her arms crossed over her chest. She steps up to y/n, similarly to how she did with Redy. except when she’s directly in front of her and able to look over her head entirely, Bada glances down at y/n who’d already staring up at her with those wide puppy eyes that have been trapping her all day, her mouth slightly hung open. 

Y/n is holding her breath- the way Bada is looking at her right now is making her want to cry. She’s so close, and the tone she uses while teasing y/n makes the younger girl weak in the knees, ready to fold at any second. She tries to stay aware, but y/n can feel her eyelids start to droop, as do Bada’s. The way she’s looking at her- with half-lidded, seductive eyes- y/n doesn’t understand how she got here, but the last thing she wanted for was it to end.

Bada had to remind herself there were many other people and cameras currently around, so she looked y/n up and down, smirked slightly (yet effectively), and backed away. She cleared her throat, but the smirk remained on her face, in fact- it was even bigger than before.

“I’ll text you later, okay?” She’s still close enough to where she can speak softly, and it makes her heart rate pick up when she realizes how flushed and dazed the younger dancer is in front of her. Bada raises her eyebrows slightly when she doesn’t get a response, to which y/n reacts quickly with a firm nod. Bada giggles at her and continues to tease.

“Ya- you should really learn how to use your words, puppy” Bada smiles condescendingly and y/n’s eyes widen once again. She lets out a small gasp when the older girl ruffles her hair before walking away.”

“I’ll text you, y/n!” Bada shouts over her shoulder and y/n just stands there, astonished. She eventually makes her way back to her crew, who watched the entire thing go down.

“What the FUCK was that-”

notes: thank you so much for reading!! sorry that this is so long and there wasn't any "real" romance written in yet. this is definitely a slower burn series, but it's because I like to build up every detail of a story haha. hoping to have the next part ready by the middle of this week, please look forward to it!!

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR - ( c.s )

part two

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, drinking, no smut (yet 😁)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: WELCOME TO MY FIRST REAL SERIES! i have a lot of ideas for this cuz i love this trope dearly so buckle up! more parts will come soon. also working on a tattooartist!reader x matt series (thank you anons) that will also be out eventually. in the mean time if you have smaller/specific reqs you’d like to see, my inbox is open babies! and if u just wanna say hello or ask a question i’m here xoxo

the music booms over the speakers inside the house next door, just like it always does on the weekends (and occasionally on thursdays too). it always drives you up a wall, but tonight it’s particularly bad.

you sit up slightly in bed, absentmindedly wondering who the fuck is on aux. you’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but you know it’s not chris, because these picks are horrendous.

it’s already past two in the morning, not to mention it’s the middle of the week. you haven’t been able to get a wink of rest, even with your headphones blaring at full volume. usually they do the trick, but tonight’s party is relentless, demanding to be heard.

wine wednesday, you think to yourself sourly.

neither of your roommates are home; they’re both off with their significant others, somewhere that’s not here, listening to fuckface and his friends get drunk.

you’re usually pretty passive about the noise, because they provide free alcohol for you guys when you show up and typically give you notice that they’re throwing something.

but tonight it’s just too fucking much. you’re tired, and groggy, and very much so still in your silky pajama bottoms and oversized t-shirt, but you don’t give a shit.

you jam your feet into some sneakers and grab a jacket, clutching it close to your chest as you head down the stairs to the main level of your own house.

you pass the dark living room, shadows leering in the corners as you’re guided only by the light coming from the street lamps outside.

you step onto the porch and the cold smacks you in the face, breath fogging up the air. it’s the middle of january in boston, and the expanse of dead grass between your houses crunches under your feet as you tread toward the front door.

the rest of the street is quiet, aside from the party. but they’re all senior hockey players, and it’s the beginning of their last semester, so what else can you expect?

besides maybe some basic human decency every once in a while. in fact, you’re so frustrated that you’re going in without backup, and without a real plan of any kind.

for some reason, once you get up the three steps to their door, you pause to knock. as if anyone would hear you over the music, or care enough to open the door for someone who’s fucking knocking.

so you twist the handle next, and it’s unlocked. of course.

it opens to a hazey front hallway that you recognize, stairs to the left hand side, blocked off by a young-looking guy you assume is probably a freshman on duty.

the front area is full of people, pressed against the walls, chatting over the music. well, more like yelling over it.

you can smell weed, which confuses you slightly. you know none of them smoke, not during the season at least. they usually don’t let anyone do it inside the house, so it must be an allowance for a girl.

you’re already getting strange looks as you step inside, which is fair. your shorts are hidden by the length of your shirt and jacket, so you’re just legs and shoes. you’ve got no makeup on, and you didn’t check your hair before you came.

but you swallow the lump in your throat, because it doesn’t matter right now anyways.

you shift your way through the crowd, gaze skipping over the people as you finally reach the dark living room. multi-colored strobes flash, lighting up the hoards of tipsy college kids dancing on the soaked wooden floor. furniture is pushed aside to make room, though the championship banner from last year still hangs on the wall.

his eyes find you before yours find him.

he stares at you across the tops of people's heads, standing by one of the couches that’s shoved against the wall. one of his roommates, connor, is leaned back on the cushions, watching the two girls they were talking to pass a joint back and forth.

but he’s no longer focused on anyone else, because he’s spotted you across the room, and he thinks this is the most disheveled he’s ever seen you. your angry eyes lock in on him seconds later, and they narrow instantly.

you beeline toward him, right through a group of people that are half-dancing along to the terrible playlist.

he lifts his eyebrows at your attitude, but not in fear. he’s actually a little impressed. his friends are watching you warily, just as confused as everyone else who saw you walk in.

he can’t help but stare at your legs as you finally reach him, admiring how cute you look in your pajamas, pale pink bottoms peeking out underneath your shirt with every step. he briefly wonders if you’re even wearing a bra.

then you open your mouth, and the fantasy is over.

“what time is it, chris?” you snap at him, one hand balled into a fist, the other clutching your phone.

“i don’t know, but i have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” he takes a sip of his drink to try and hide his grin.

it takes a lot of self control to keep yourself from slapping it out of his fucking hand, just because of how smug he looks. you hold up the screen to his face.

two twenty-two in the morning. chris almost laughs.

“the answer is way too fucking late to be having a party on a wednesday.” you reply, bringing the device back down to rest by your thigh.

“why didn’t you come? i missed you.” he pouts.

you glance over at the people on the couch, at the girls who are still making eyes at you as they converse with connor. he’s giving you a weird look too, as if no one could possibly understand why you’re here like this.

“yeah, sure you did,” you turn back to him, “now shut this shit down before i call the cops.”

chris puts his hands up in surrender, though he knows this is an empty threat just as much as you do.

“wow, somebody’s grumpy.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. “i’m serious. tell the puck bunnies to go home for the night or i’ll do it myself.”

he takes a tiny step closer, just a few inches, and yet it still seems suffocating. he looks too good, clad in a simple black tee and jeans, and he’s studying your face with the fire of a thousand suns.

“you don’t have to be jealous because other girls are here. you know you’re my number one.” chris replies easily.

even though his tone remains light, his expression is serious now. it enrages you more, that he thinks he has so much control over you.

“as if i give a fuck. i just want to sleep, so the choice is yours. police,” you wave the hand that holds your phone slightly, “or call it off.”

chris takes another sip of his drink, tipping it back so he can finish the rest of it in one foul swoop. then he nods his head, like he’s admitting defeat.

“fine. i’ll send everyone home.”

you can feel the relief creeping over you, knowing that you don’t have to actually get law enforcement involved. “thank yo—”

“on one condition.” he interrupts, and you furrow your brows.

“no conditions, chris. we’re not bartering right now.”

“come to the game on friday and we can hang out after for a bit. i’ll even give you a practice jersey to wear.” he offers, and the trademark smirk has reappeared on his face.

lights dance across his features, morphing his expression every few seconds. you just stare, because for once, you’re actually not sure what game he’s playing.

“what, can’t get a date without having to resort to blackmail?” you taunt, and he laughs.

“please, i don’t date. and i’d hardly consider this blackmail. just think of it as getting to know your friendly neighbor on a more personal level.”

there’s a humorous glint in his eye, one that’s daring you to say yes. what’s there to be afraid of? all you have to do is watch hockey, eat some popcorn from the concession stand, and deal with his attitude for an hour afterwards.

you’re still not sure what chris is getting out of this, or why he’s insisting that you need to be there, but at this point you don’t care. all you can think about is salvaging the rest of your sleep.

“alright, fine. now you have five minutes to get everyone out, and i better not hear any more shitty remixes for the rest of the week.” you point an accusatory finger at him and he shrugs, though he’s clearly content that you caved in.

“your wish is my command, princess.”

you turn on your heel to head back outside, retracing your steps from earlier as you slip through the mob. you half expect chris to follow, just because he’s annoying, but he doesn’t.

the overhead lights are coming back on now, and you can hear deep voices shouting, combined with collective groans from the crowd as they all realize they’re being kicked out.

luckily you make it out the front door first, and you jog back up the steps to your own place to get out of the cold.

you’ve only been inside for seconds when your phone buzzes in your hand.

chris

see you friday

sweet dreams ;)

[confused-pyramid]

I'll Be Yours In A Landslide | s7 interlude

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: SMUT, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, angst

a/n: IMPORTANT UPDATE: Sorry for the wait guys, I've been super busy with graduating soon and other life updates, so I haven't had any time to write:( I really wanted to give some sort of a tie-up for this series at least for the time being, so I wrote a little interlude for y'all. I am hoping to come back at some point, but for now, I'm putting an indefinite hold on this series. I really appreciate all the comments and messages I've gotten from people, and I hope to talk to you all soon:) Title is from State Lines by Novo Amor

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"How could you?"

You push past him, shoving your way into his apartment the moment he opens the door. You were fuming your entire drive over, but now that he's standing in front of you, your mind is a battlefield of warring emotions: I hate you, I love you, I missed you.

"You knew the whole time that she was alive," you gasp, already feeling out of breath, "and you kept it from us. From me."

"I'm sorry." It seems to be the only thing he can say these days. He has said it so many times, he's lost count, but it doesn't make this better. He knows he hurt you, even if he didn't have a choice. "Please just sit down and we can talk."

"No," you shoot back, shaking him off as he tries to step closer. "I'm not gonna calm down right now. I've been keeping this in for months, Aaron. I was there for everyone and no one was there for me."

His brow screws together and you know you're hitting exactly the right spots to make him feel worse, but you can't help it.

"I wanted to tell you," he says, his voice almost frantic as you pace back and forth across his living room. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you all of it, but I couldn't."

"You should've tried harder," you yell, knowing how unfair that is even as you're saying it. His face falls and he turns his palms towards you, like he's about to surrender, but that isn't what you want. You want the fight. It's what you've been waiting for for months.

You open your mouth to yell at him again, but then his eyes find yours, and he looks at you in that way he used to...like it's the first time he's seeing you all over again, and suddenly you're walking toward him. His eyes widen as you crash into him, and before he can understand what's happening, your lips are on his.

It takes him way too long to realize what's happening, but his hands move faster than his brain. They latch onto your waist, tugging you closer, pressing your chest to his, as you gasp into his mouth. When his brain finally catches up, he swears he can see fireworks as you grasp onto him, your lips so soft over his. He's been drowning for months, years, wanting you, waiting for you, pushing you away, and now you're here and he can finally breathe.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against your lips, trying to emphasize how grateful he is to have you back, but you just bring your hands up between you and tear off his open button down before chucking it to the ground.

"Shut up," you mutter, a pang of hurt cutting through even as you try to sound angry. "Just kiss me."

He doesn't make you ask twice. His lips come back to yours as he walks you back towards the couch, your knees buckling when they hit the seat.

Aaron sinks down and pulls you on top of him as you grab at every part of him, your fingers tugging at his collar and your teeth brushing over his bottom lip. The kiss is harsh and he gasps as your nails drag over his skin, but he doesn't care. You're here.

He's falling, succumbing to the overwhelming desire rising up within him, but before he can let go, he pulls back momentarily. "You're sure? I don't want you to regre-"

"I want you," you whisper, the last word turning to a sob against your will. "I'm so mad at you, but I love you and I want you, so please don't stop."

His eyes squint with shame and for a moment you almost feel guilty for how harsh you are being, but then the desire returns and he pulls you down on top of him. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, and the roughness of his beard feels unfamiliar, yet exciting. When his mouth moves down your jaw, the scratch of his beard against your skin ignites a fire within you.

You claw at his back, trying to pull his tee shirt over his head, and he reaches down, helping you wrest it off and onto the floor. The movement sends your hips back over his groin and he lets out a low groan as he tears your button-down open.

When your top falls to the floor as well, you both pause, finally realizing the gravity of what you're doing. Your eyes drag down his chest, over the thick scars lining his abdomen and collarbone, and soon your fingers are following along, tracing a path of fire over the roughest and most beautiful parts of him. 

You gasp as his fingers ghost over the scar on your waist, where your bullet wound used to be, and before the tears in your eyes can fall, your lips are back on his. 

There's more urgency in your movements this time as you try to relish the feeling of his mouth over your pulse, your hips rolling over him. 

"Bedroom," you whisper as heat spreads between your legs, emanating from the grip of his hands on your thighs. "Now."

He doesn't waste a second as he wraps his arms around your body and stands up, lifting you along with him as he makes his way down the hall. His lips don't leave yours even as he pushes the door open with his back, and he only breaks away to toss you onto the bed. You hit the covers with a gasp, and you see his pupils darken with lust as he climbs over you, his pants already tightening. 

You can hardly believe he's back in your life again, and even as anger and hurt cloud your vision, he's here in front of you, and you need him as close as humanly possible.

"I want you too," he says suddenly, his eyes finding yours in a moment of earnestness. "So much...for so long."

Your throat thickens with tears again, and you can't decide whether you want to blink them away or let them fall, but then he quickly tugs your jeans and panties off in one go and every thought leaves your brain. 

He looks animalistic as he peppers kisses up your legs, his mouth warm and wet as he stops just before your core for an extra second to rile you up.

"Aaron," you groan, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging him forward. You won't beg, not right now, but he gets the idea.

He practically grins at your desperation, drawing it out a bit longer by sucking bruises into your thighs, before he finally goes where you are willing him to. Your head falls back with a gasp as he plunges his tongue down, licking a trail up your slit that has you writhing beneath him.

He presses his hands into your thighs, spreading them apart as your hips jut off the bed. His tongue feels like heaven as he works you open along with his fingers, getting you close within a matter of minutes. 

"Aaron, please-" you gasp out, your words cutting off as he hooks his finger up, his movements precise in a way that both surprises and exhilarates you. You're not even sure what you're asking him for, you just need more of him. 

It's like he can hear your thoughts, because his fingers start moving faster, and when your grip on his hair tightens, he lets out a low hum that vibrates up your core.

You are barely aware of what your legs are doing, but when he grabs your ankle and lifts your leg over his shoulder, your head flies back and you're moaning his name so loudly, you're afraid the neighbors will come knocking.

"Yes," you gasp, your fingers pulling at his hair harder you mean to.

He laves over your clit, alternating between sucking and licking, until you come apart under his tongue, your mouth falling open with a loud cry. 

You taste incredible, and he's so hard that his jeans have become uncomfortably tight, but even as you cry out his name, it's not enough. He wants to see you come apart under him.

Gripping your hips, he yanks you down so that you're lying directly beneath his body, eliciting a soft moan from you. Your eyes are wide with bliss as you look up at him, your eyelashes fluttering softly, and he has to grip the sheets beside your head to keep his pants from tightening any further.

His knee presses down on the bed between your thighs as he lifts you up and deftly unclasps your bra, before gently dropping it to the floor. When he returns his gaze back to you, his breath stutters as he takes in the sight before him.

"Beautiful," he whispers, almost as an afterthought. "You're so beautiful." 

He has always known it, but something about seeing you in his bed, like this, feels unbelievable. Like he somehow did everything exactly right. Except you didn't, his brain reminds him. You did everything wrong, and still got this lucky.

Maybe it is luck. But whatever it is that brought him here, he isn't going to waste another second thinking about it.

You help him tug his pants off, and when he chucks his boxers off right after, his cock springs free, hard and ready without you even touching him. Your mouth floods with saliva as his knee presses forward between your legs, and you reach down to take him in your hands, but he pushes you back with a small shake of his head.

He wants to feel you more than anything else in the world right now, but he's already so riled up, he's afraid to let you touch him until he's inside of you. He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a foil packet to cover himself, before he lowers himself down.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice gruff even to his own ears.

You nod, your legs spreading as he lines himself up, and his breath gets stuck in his throat when he slowly pushes in. Your mouth falls open as he fills you up, taking his time to push forward until he's fully seated inside of you.

He's big enough that you need a few moments to adjust, but once he starts moving, a string of moans falls from your lips. He leans forward to press a kiss to your jaw, then your lips, and when he pulls back, his pupils are so dark you can barely make out the color of his eyes.

"You're perfect," he whispers against your skin as he presses his mouth to your neck, his hips slowly rocking into you. "You're everything."

After growing accustomed to his size, the stretch feels amazing, and you try to respond, but your head just falls back onto the pillow as waves of pleasure roll over you. You remember your dream from while he was gone, the hazy sequence that had you waking up in a heated fervor, and you can't help but think about how much better he is in real life. How you waited for so many years, and even when it hurt like hell, it was all still worth it.

He starts to thrust faster, and you hike your knees up, trying to change the angle to get him even deeper inside of you. When he hits the right spot, you let out a high gasp and your walls involuntarily squeeze around him.

"Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth as his rhythm falters slightly. "You can't do that." He dips down to press his lips to yours for a sharp kiss. "I'm already close."

"Me too," you cry, realizing it as it flies out of your mouth. "I'm so close."

Your words seem to flip a switch in his brain. You watch as his eyes darken and his rhythm picks back up, like he only has one goal and he won't stop until he gets it. 

You're starting to squeeze around him again, and he fists the comforter next to you as he thrusts faster, his other hand coming down between the two of you. It doesn't take him more than a few seconds to find your clit, and when his thumb flicks over it once, then twice, your breath stutters and your walls close around him so suddenly that he nearly finds his release as well.

You look magical as you fall apart below him, and he keeps moving inside of you, working you through it as he commits the image to memory. You let out a soft sigh as you come down from your high, but it only takes a few more thrusts for him to near the edge.

"Where do you want me?" he asks, his voice a low hum as you run your fingers through his hair, your nails scratching over his scalp.

You gasp quietly. "Come inside me. Please." 

He groans, picking up his pace again, and wraps his arms around you in an effort to bring you even closer. You press your lips to his as he releases, swallowing his gasps while he slowly comes down.

He pulls out slowly, taking care not to hurt you when you're sensitive, before heading into the bathroom. He returns after a minute with a small towel that he uses to carefully clean both of you up with. 

After tossing it away, he climbs back into the bed and tugs you close to him, your back pressing into his front like a pair of puzzle pieces. The day is starting to catch up with you, and you feel tiredness pull at your eyes as his chest rises and falls evenly behind you.

"I'm in love with you," he says suddenly, his voice hurried like he surprised even himself. "I'm sorry if it isn't the right time or if that isn't what you wanted from this, but-"

"Aaron," you cut him off, turning over so that you can reach up and thread your fingers through his hair. "I'm in love with you too. Of course I am."

He lets out a breath, and you can almost hear the relief in his sigh as he wraps an arm around you and tucks you into his side. Unsurprisingly, he's a furnace wrapped up beside you, but you can't bring yourself to move, especially with how much comfort his mere presence brings you.

You lay there for a while, taking this uninterrupted time to re-memorize his face as his breath evens out. You could never forget anything about him, but he's been gone for so long that you expect there are hundreds of new facets to him that you'll get to learn.

His eyes have been closed long enough that you assume he is asleep, but then his breath stutters and you look up at him as he squeezes you closer in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice sending reverberations through his chest. "I know you know I couldn't tell you everything, but I should have let you in more-"

"I don't want to talk about this right now." Your voice is strong, and he must hear the finality in your tone, because he immediately quiets down. "I know you're sorry...and we'll talk about this more in the morning. But right now, I just want to be here with you. I just got you back."

He's quiet for a moment, but you feel his chin dip down in a nod. "Morning then. Good night."

His arms tighten around you and you snuggle next to him, every part of you interweaving in an effort to get closer than you already are. 

That night, you have the best sleep you've had in years.

TAGLIST:@citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios, @whosmys, @mimi-sanisanidiot, @chronicallybubbly, @shilphy87, @threespacemonkeys, @zaddyhotch, @slytherin-min99, @endofthexline, @thattookaturnforthenerdy

[riki-riks-chick]

Senior Year PT.1 ︱N.RK

riki x reader (high school au)

yn is having a hellish year, but one boy makes it all the more bearable.

cw: fluff! bullying, high school, yn plays handball, toxic parents, toxic home life, swearing, slight verbal abuse.

wdct: 1.8k

requested series!

to the person who requested, pls give me feedback on whether this is good or not bc I WILL rewrite b4 continuing to part two. tyy <3

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Third Person POV~

 "I'm actually quite shocked. You're doing exceedingly well.. I got a few emails from coaches who watched our last game.. If you're serious about handball when season starts, you might get a scholarship." Your coach explains, and you're genuinely shocked. Sure you'd been training your ass off, but no one usually acknowledges it.

"Really?.. A scholarship where?" You ask as she smiles, amused at your excitement. "The states... Some school in Virginia."  She explains as your eyes widen. "The states!? My mom would never let me go to the states."

"She's not in control of you once you graduate.. You're good.. Don't let her hold you back.. Now, go home after school and rest up.. We have practice tomorrow after school."

You leave, and rather than going home, you head to your job. Working at some burger shack that everyone at your school came to. It wasn't too bad, but you hated being noticed. 

And just to your dismay, these three cheerleaders, that love to make your life, hell walked in. 

You just happened to be the only employee on the register so you had no choice but to take their orders. 

And as you did so, begrudgingly, one of them spoke up. "Aren't you that loser from third period?.." 

You sigh, avoiding her gaze as you finish finalizing their order. "That'll be $23.45.." You ignore her remark, simply wanting to finish the order. She scoffs though, arms crossing tightly across her chest. "Are you not gonna answer me?... Fucking loser."

She pays for the order before walking over to some random seat to wait around for it, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

They've messed with you before, and you simply ignore it. It's better to take the shit than lose your job that you so desperately need, and worked hard to get.

You call the number for their order after a short while, giving them their drinks last as the tallest one of the girls scoffs. "This is the wrong drink." She then takes it out of the holder, throwing it at you, which results in you getting soaked in diet coke. It was, in fact, the right drink.

"What is wrong with you?" You try not to raise your voice, makeup and hair ruined, clothes soaked and sticking irritatingly against your skin, and she's just standing there with a smirk on her face. "You dumb bitch. Can't even get an order right." Just as you're about to retaliate, knowing that you didn't even make her order, someone grabs her wrist, tugging her away from the counter.

"That's enough.. Do you always go around giving people hell? At school, and now here..?" You glance up at the much taller figure gripping your offenders wrist, and you're slightly shocked at who it is.

It's the one boy that you've never heard speak in class, never seen him interact with other people despite his teammates on the basketball team. And yet he's popular.. Tall, handsome, and quiet. It's hard not to notice him.

When you finally snap back to reality, the three girls are storming out of the place and the boy is still standing in front of you, Nishimura Riki.

You've never imagined making eye contact with him, or speaking to him, but when his deep brown eyes meet yours, you immediately glance away, too flustered to continue looking him in the eyes.

He smiles gently, and there's a hint of pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry that happened.. Are you okay?..." His voice is slightly deep, and definitely nicely toned. You simply nod at his question, remembering that you're covered in soda.

"I'm fine.. I can take your order.." You try to deflect but he shakes his head. "No, let me take you home so you can change.. That can't be comfortable for you." 

His voice is very persuasive, and you decide not to argue, telling him to wait before walking into the kitchen to talk to your manager. 

"Mr. Rio...?" You inquire softly as the man glances up from his position at the grill, working on an order. "What happened?" He question, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Some girl threw her drink at me...." Your explanation leaves him to nod understandingly. "Just go home.. I'll handle everything until I can call another person here." 

You question whether he's sure or not before grabbing your stuff and rounding the counter. Riki grabs your stuff for you, carrying your book bag and your waterbottle as he gestures for you to follow him. You follow him towards his car and it's nice, a black mercedes. You're already regretting your decision to let him take you home.

"I can't get in your car like this.." You sigh as he shakes his head. "It's fine.. I'll clean of the seat afterwards.."

You refuse at his words. "No... I don't wanna cause you any trouble..." You argue as he rolls his eyes. "Fine then..." He get in the driver's seat, reaching into the duffle bag in the backseat as he pulls put a towel, putting it on the seat. "Come on. Now I won't even have to worry about cleaning the seat."

You sigh, still hesitant, but you still get into the car. He smiles once you're seated, leaning over the console to reach for your seatbelt, fastening it for you.

"So, where do you live..?" 

The car ride to your house is excruciatingly silent. You're awkward, and he doesn't know how to speak to you. It's just terrible.

"This is my house.." You speak up quietly as he stops the car. "Well.. I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow?.." He asks as you nod, unfastening your seat belt and scrambling to get out of the car. "What was your name again?..." He asks as you sigh nervously. "I'm Y/n... L/n Y/n..." You answer as he nods. "Nice. I'm Nishimura Riki.."

And like an idiot, you respond, "I know..." Riki chuckles, smiling. "Then you'll know we have class together.. Don't forget to say hi."

He then drives off, leaving you on the pavement dumbfounded. After a few minutes, you shake it off, heading inside as you take off your shoes. Just to your luck, your mom is on her way out. 

"What are you doing home?.." Your mom questions, brows furrowed inquisitively as she slid into her sneakers. 

"Some girl threw a drink at me at work, so my boss let me go home..." You explain as she scoffs. "You're so weak... Your sister would've kept working.. Learn to endure."

And then she leaves, grabbing her keys before slamming the front door behind her. You hear the lock click shortly after, letting out a sigh of relief.

You hated being compared to your sister. She graduated with honors, and you're barely keeping A's and B's... She's just better... And your mom is no help, constantly comparing you to her. It's definitely not fair because your sister is far from perfect, but you try not to let it haunt you.

The first thing you do is shower, the icky feeling of the soda making your clothes cling to you uncomfortably. After showering, you wash the clothes to avoid the soda staining them permanently. Once all of that is handled, you're rummaging through the kitchen for something decent to eat. In the end, you're settling for pizza rolls and some instant ramen. 

After eating the very random meal, you head upstairs to work on your homework, but to your luck, you left it in the cute boy's car. 

Great, another assignment to fail. You think to yourself as you open your laptop, ready to email your teacher in hopes they'll be understanding. Just as you're about to hit send, a notification sounds on your phone, the screen illuminating with a text from an unknown number. 

You open it, and to your luck its Riki. 

[Hey, it's Riki. I found your backpack in the backseat... I would bring it back, but I'm busy tonight.. Is it okay if I give it back tomorrow?] 

You sigh at the text, deciding to just forget the email and hope that homeroom gives you enough time to complete the homework.

[Yeah.. Tomorrow is fine... I need it during homeroom.]

[Great, I'll be there as soon as school starts.]

You thank him before setting your phone on the desk, sighing loudly. This day has been terrible, practice sucked, you got a drink thrown at you, and now your backpack is at some boy's house all because you accepted a ride home.

You just decide to push everything aside, getting in bed and watching random corny kdramas until you fall asleep.

It's rare that you ever get a good night's rest. If you hadn't left work early, you'd barely be home at 8pm... Luckily you got to sleep a little earlier, but just as quickly as you got lucky, you got unlucky.

You wake up to loud sounds coming from downstairs, and you're already aware of the familiar yelling voices. 

You leave your room, heading quietly down the stairs as you hear your parents yelling, something about money and your dad being irresponsible. 

You're used to the banter, and sometimes you just filter it out, but the sounds of broken glass was slightly alarming.

You peek into the kitchen, your parents are at each other's throats, and eventually your mom just yells for your dad to get out.

The man manages one last rude remark before leaving the house, the door slamming loudly behind him.

Just as your mom walks out of the kitchen, you try to ask if she's alright, she simply pushes past you, heading upstairs quietly.

Your sister still isn't home. God knows what she's out doing this time of night, but you're sure it isn't working.

Almost every last penny of your paycheck goes to your mom, and your sister's paycheck is never the same amount. You know for sure she's blowing it off selfishly, and your mom knows too, but she doesn't care.

One time you bought a new pair of shoes with your check since your family wasn't too far behind on bills, and boy you never heard the end of it. That's why you just give all the money you make to your mother.

And yet she still favorites your older sister. But you try your best to please her anyway. In the end you really don't have a way to impress her, unless you won the lottery maybe.. 

You genuinely just want a normal senior year, and at this point you'll do anything to get it.

[sc0tters]

Strike Out | Luke Hughes

summary: a series of events that lead to Nico finding out about your boyfriend, the newest edition of the New Jersey Devils no less.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual scenes, p in v, swearing.

word count: 1.46k

authors note: this is more plot than smut (less than 600 words are smut) and I really liked this one. The prompt Luke with Nico’s sister gave me many options yet this was one I’m happy I took.

Luke knew he was playing a dangerous game.

Not only you the total it girl at NYU with men double taking you whenever walked past. But you were also his captains younger sister.

Nico and Jack had both given him warnings about you when Luke first joined the team at the end of last season. Yet the moment Luke locked eyes with you all of those warnings were out of the window.

You were the girl of his dream for lack of a better phrase. You had the banter, the personality, but most of all you got on with Jack. And of course you knew how to wrap Luke around your little finger.

So when it took you less than three weeks to get the boy into your bed Luke finally realised what Jack meant by you were trouble.

It wasn’t in the sense of you were twisted with the cops but rather that you were addictive. Someone so far out of anyone’s league that people weren’t sure if you were real.

That’s what you were, an enigma to everyone but Luke.

Or at least that’s what he liked to say as he stuck into your dorm because somehow it was safer in there than it would have been if you were in the apartment with Jack.

As much as Luke knew he shouldn’t stay in your dorm as it meant you two were awkwardly on top of each other due to the weird size that dorm bed were. He could never help it as he got to see you in his old band tees that you had stolen from his closet during one of the many trips you had taken to Jersey.

Nico and Jack at this point were either choosing to ignore what was clearly going on or they genuinely couldn’t see it.

But that meant you and Luke were feeling more adventurous than you had before.

Constantly pushing the boundaries being less careful than before as you were now even spending nights in the Hughes apartment.

As your life360 began to have these spurs where it randomly turned off only to be turned on when you were minutes away from Nico’s apartment. You seemed to feel this thrill as your brothers phone calls came in wondering why your location had gone off.

Dawson made the mistake of walking into the Hughes apartment one day when Jack was running late making him the first and only one to have seen it.

You had been straddling Luke’s lap when the Mercer boy walked in “Hughesy I didn’t know you had - y/n!” The boy clutched his chest in surprise as you locked eyes with him.

Some would have called this, strike one.

After all of the threats that Nico gave the boys Dawson was surprise that it only took him this long to get with you.

Luke was quick to place you next to him and before either one of you could beg for his silence Jack was home “oh I didn’t know you were going to be here y/n.” Swollen lips and messy hair didn’t seem to be picked up by the older Hughes boy as he flashed you a friendly smile “you want to stay for lunch?” He added letting you and Luke know that you were in the clear with him.

The younger Hughes boy frowned as you got up “I’m actually meeting Nico for lunch.“ You explained sending Luke a wink “I’ll see you soon Hughesy.” His nickname rolled off of your tongue as you left the apartment “I didn’t know that you two were friends.” Jack had to say that you and Luke were not a pairing he thought he’d ever see.

Next you seemed to grow ballsier than ever.

After a successful preseason the entire team were at Nico’s apartment for a celebration party.

Of course your brother sent you an invite as you were spending that weekend in New Jersey.

Much to Nico’s dismay you were hidden from your brothers side for most of the night.

Primarily because you were a bit too focused on a certain Hughes boy “baby you’re going to have to keep quiet.” Luke raised his finger to your lips as you rode his cock.

Your eyes fluttered as your nails raked up his chest “you’re so good for me.” You groaned as his finger rubbed against your clit “y/n you there?” The knock at the door made Luke wrap his lips around your breast in an attempt to suppress his own moans.

Say it with me now, strike two.

You’re chewed at the inside of your cheek “little busy.” You whined making the mental note to kill Luke later.

The boy smirked from beneath you as your hands locked into his hair “Jack is just looking for Luke and he said he saw you with him last.” That almost felt like strike two in the now game of baseball that you had Luke had found yourselves in.

Nico groaned as you remained silent “I sort of wanted an answer from you kid.” It made you roll your eyes as Luke squeezed your ass “I’ll help you find him in a sec.” Your head fell back when Luke’s lips grazed over your collarbone.

You grumbled “I would have liked if you could do it now.” You were grateful that the door was locked because Nico would have opened it by now.

If Luke hadn’t been bringing you close to an orgasm you would have killed your brother “Nico give me a minute.” You were dangling closer to hitting the older boy “okay jesus I’ll see you in the kitchen.” When Nico finally left Luke was able to go back to what he was doing beforehand.

He watched as your lips pursed “I’m gonna come Luke.” You cried making the boy beneath you capture your lips in a kiss.

It was hot as he held your hips against his “where are you going?” Luke complained as you got off of him before he had the chance to do as much as cuddle you reached for your dress “remember Nico?” You spoke in a duh tone shaking your head.

The red dress wasn’t doing a lot for your body “maybe you should find something else.” Luke mumbled seeing the bruises already forming on your collarbone “maybe you should get dressed before our brothers realise that we’re both in here?” You proposed realising that he was right.

The Hughes boy pulled you back by your hand “you’re so hot when you’re bossy.” Luke mumbled pecking your lips.

Finally and by far you’re most stupid of all moments.

Otherwise known as the time that Nico finally caught on.

It was when Luke had scored his first goal of the regular season and you couldn’t help but praise him tonight.

Naturally you in the crowd as it was in New York but as you ran past the crowd of family and friends of the Islander players you were trying to find Luke.

It shouldn’t have been a hard challenge given his height but still there you were trying and failing to find him “there you are!” His voice came from behind you.

He wrapped his arms around your torso so by the time you had spun around you were now facing him “hey.” You smiled looking up at him.

His hands comfortably found their way to your cheeks making Luke grateful that he had taken his gloves off moments before “what are you doing?” You mumbled trying to see what he was getting at as you could hear your brothers laughs echo off of the walls.

Luke ran his thumb over your lower lip “he is so busy talking to Jack that neither one of them is going to notice a thing.” The Hughes boys words made you feel at ease “bout time I congratulate you on that goal then?” You smiled as he nodded dropping his head to yours.

The two of you forgot how good it felt having his lips on yours as you two had been so busy recently that the idea of hanging out was simply out of the question “what the fuck is this?” A loud voice pulled you two back to reality.

Strike three, you should have been out.

Your eyes went wide as you saw the irritated Nico in front of you “look Luke I might not be good at these things but-” your ramble was cut short as Luke matched your expression “run?” He asked slowly repositioning you to block your brothers attempt at running after him.

Part of you wanted to do more as Nico cut in “I’m going to kill you Hughes.” The captain saw you as his little baby who needed to be protected at all times, even if that was from Luke Hughes.

“definitely run.”

[thecapricunt1616]

Peach (c.b. one-shot)

Blurb (More BTC!) : You could tell Carmy had a bad day from the sound of the door slamming, and then a called “sorry! Didn’t mean it babe” and by the looks of his cheeks that were a flushed red that matched his chest when he’d taken his hoodie off, he’d had a really long run. It felt a bit wrong, but sexy that it felt so, as you watched him tug off his shorts, then his boxers, revealing his soft cock, and his adorable really even though he got all blushy and shy when you pointed it out bare lily white ass.

♡ One Shot Inspo: Based on ♡this♡ ask from a sweet anon, thank you for your request! Peaches symbolize many things, including longevity, love, and immortality. Peach blossoms are also said to put men into a trance of love. Before the 17th century, peaches were considered a subgenus of the apple, so European cultural representations of apples, such as in paintings and poems, were sometimes transferred onto peaches. This included connotations of fertility and immortality. ♡ Summary: Carmy has a bad day at work, and comes home with an attitude that needs a little assistance adjusting. ♡ W/C: 1.7k ♡ A/N: EEEEEE I can't believe season 3 comes out today yall!!! I am shakin in my boots and so freaking excited!!! I'm going to be binging the whole series likely tonight!!! OMG our boy is finally gonna get out of the freezer! I hope you like this one shot, I may be able to get another out today before the new season but its already 3 and it comes out at 9 so maybe but anywho, I hope you all like!! The drought is almost overrr!!! ♡ Warnings for BTC: Smut!! Fem!Reader, No use of Y/N, swearing, Black!Fem!Reader friendly

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡ ➵ My 300 Follower Celebration Bingo!

It was a sticky, hot, balmy Chicago summer day. To top it off, it had been raining all day long which meant people had been ducking into The Beef in refuge of somewhere dry and cool, so Carmy had been absolutely slammed with orders all day long. He was feeling antsy, too full of energy. 

So it was only normal for him to go on a run straight after work. He put on his black shorts, and white hoodie after changing out of his work clothes and drove to his favorite park. He wouldn’t have known how many miles he’d ran since the parks trail was just one big loop unless he had his phone in his pocket, which it told him 5. 

The only other way he’d known he would have ran that much was his hoodie was drenched in sweat, and so was his hair. Like, dripping. Each lap around the trail he had chugged a few large sips from his gallon full of water that was now warm from sitting on the bench on the side of the trail. He had only stopped because he was genuinely exhausted and his water was pretty much gone. But thankfully, his mind had been mostly cleared. 

He had to do this before he came home to you. Carmy knew he had…issues, managing his anger. The only way he knew he wouldn’t explode from overstimulation by giving the physical affection he knew you deserved after he was away from you all day long. So if he blew off all of his steam, he could give you what was left of him which was the exhausted, run down version that didn’t have the emotional wearwithall to shut you out or snap at you. 

When he came through the door, he came to the bedroom to see you curled up in bed. He sighed softly in relief both at the feeling of the air conditioner and at the realization his day was finally over, and he could relax. “Hey baby” he mumbled, tugging his hoodie off and pushing his sweat slick hair off of his forehead as to not drip on you before leaning over and kissing your forehead. “Gonna shower n’ I’ll make dinner sorry m’late went running. Bad day” he said as he headed off to the bathroom, the door slightly ajar just enough you could see him in the large bathroom mirror. 

You could tell he had a bad day from the sound of the door slamming, and then a called “sorry! Didn’t mean it babe” and by the looks of his cheeks that were a flushed red that matched his chest when he’d taken his hoodie off, he’d had a really long run. It felt a bit wrong, but sexy that it felt so, as you watched him tug off his shorts, then his boxers, revealing his soft cock, and his adorable really even though he got all blushy and shy when you pointed it out bare lily white ass. 

He ran shirtless most of the time, and his Italian really came through in the summer - because his skin absorbed so much sun in just the time he went on his runs, turning it more freckled and golden bronzed tan of what his winter color was. His hair demonstrated it too, the ends that was and the parts that peek out of his hat. He had tiny noticeable bleach blonde streaks from the sun in some of his curls, Natalie teased that was his color when he was a baby and he should let it come out more. 

His stark tan line across his ass cutting just before the dimples on his spine made you smile to yourself, which turned to a pout as he stepped in the shower and you could no longer see him. You sigh softly to yourself at your now lack of eye candy and turned your attention back to the tv when you hear a little groan. “Fuckin Jesus it’s hot out today” he muttered to himself that you could barely hear over the water. But it piqued your interest. 

You got up, padding over to the wall next to the bathroom door and listened. Nothing. Damn, you had a sexy little fantasy going on in your head of catching him jacking off or something and offering to join him all sexy, but it sounds like he’s just…showering. You can smell the faint scent of his herby body wash mixed with dove soap, the faint splashing of water every so often as he cleans himself. Found yourself asking if you should just leave him alone, but then again this is something you hadn’t tried together before. 

Carefully you nudge open the door and Carmy looks over “oh- hey babe I’m almost done did you need the- woah, okay- hi- gettin in? All dressed?” He teased, a bit confused and surprised when you had just slid open the shower door casually. He looked adorable, hair full of soap, cheeks slightly less pink due to the cool water, it felt a bit like corruption to offer getting him off. 

“No uh…” you swallow thickly, eyes flickering to his soapy chest and…yeah, you remembered why you wanted in here in the first place. “Can I…help you- like, relax?” You question and his brows raise in surprise, mouth dropping for a moment before closing again, as if he was trying to find what to say. 

This proved true a few moments later when he just said “s-sure- yeah how do you wanna help me?” The heat in his cheeks was coming back. 

“C’mere” you wrap your manicured hand around the back of his neck, gently angling him down to kiss you and he gratefully accepts. He nervously keeps his hands behind his back since he didn’t wanna get you wet, allowing you to touch and kiss him however you wanted. “Carmy” you mumble between kisses and he responds with a ‘mmm’ of acknowledgment “why” kiss “aren’t you” kiss “touching me?” 

You pulled away a bit so he could answer and he wiped soap off his forehead before it dribbled in his eyes “uh I don’t wanna get you wet, I guess?” He said and you shrug 

“Don’t care, you can touch me” you continued ravishing him in kisses and he wraps his arms around you, wet hands finding your back and roaming over the soft skin. It went on like this for a few minutes, biting and kissing and sucking on eachothers lips- when you grabbed his half hard cock at the base and gently stroked it, all the way up to the tip- brushing your thumb over it and going back down, he gasped, forehead falling to your shoulder. 

“Fuckin hell” he breathed, his cock getting fully erect after just a few gentle strokes of your soft, pretty hand. He kept his arms wrapped around you, one hand on each hip, squeezing to ground himself as you found a rhythm pumping him with your hand. His moans went all whiny the way they did when he needed more, and you tighten your grip earning a hot,breathy “yes, thank you baby” out of him that made you smirk proudly and turn your face just barely in order to kiss his temple. 

“Of course Bear, m’sorry you had such a bad day lovey. But I’m here for you, I’m so happy you let me take care of you. I love making you feel good, do you feel good, Carmy?” You ask in a sultry tone in the shell of his ear. His cock stiffened in your hand, along with a pretty ruined whimper letting you know he was close “can you lean on the wall for me pretty boy?” His stomach clenched as he tried holding himself back, his breath coming more ragged like pants 

“So close” he warned “so so close” he repeats. 

“I know baby can you sit up” you giggle “I promise you’ll like it” you said and he huffs, leaning against the wall and looking at you with the cat-like ‘I was comfortable and you made me move’ look, until you got on your knees right in front of where he was now leaned against the shower wall near the door, and continued to stroke him with your tongue stuck out down your chin while you watch him with big doe eyes. 

His attention returns, mouth dropping hotly and pants resuming as you sped up your hand, using your other to massage his balls. The action had his eyes nearly rolling back and head falling against the wall but he remained all of his focus on you, his girl - his beautiful, amazing girl, on her knees, jerking his cock and eagerly waiting for him to shoot a load down your throat so you can swallow it gratefully, and even lick the tip clean after. God he loved when you did that. 

The reminder of your affinity for the taste of his cum had him grunting to cover up his long drawn out moan that tore from deep in his chest as he came harder then he thought he would, needing to lean his shoulder on the wall further as his knees actually shook while he shot rope after rope of white cream into your eagerly awaiting pretty pink mouth. You hum, satisfied at the taste as you continued quickly jerking his cock to milk out every last drop. After you did so, you made sure to allow him to tilt your face up, and admire the cum covering your lips, tongue, and chin, as well as dripping down the back of your throat. 

You shut your eyes, swallowing the mouthful with a satisfied grin licking your lips and wiping the remaining cum off your chin and neck with your finger, and then sucking that while you looked him in the eyes. He stared down at you in awe, cock twitching at your movements. Poor thing couldn’t even get soft with the sight of you around. You furthered that torture by gently grabbing the base of his cock and giving the sensitive tip kitten licks to clean off any missed dribbles. 

“You are gonna be the fucking death of me” he told you as you got up, and go to the sink to brush your teeth 

“Feel better?” You asked and he looked at you in the reflection of the mirror like a confused puppy for a moment before he realized oh, right. He came home in a shit mood after a shit day, and you essentially sucked the attitude out of him. 

“Mmhmm” he mumbled and shut the shower door. 

You sucked the attitude out of him, not the ego after all.

[highwayorgantrade]

Safe House

Pairing: Female Reader! X Soap

Request: Nooo

Summary: Oh no! A bunch of soldiers posted up in your farmhouse bed and breakfast?? Whatever shall you do!! Should you fuck them??

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Overstimulation, begging, volume (keep quiet), unprotected sex, cervix kissing 

Author's note: Okay listen y'all I did not plan on doing this whatsoever. I was in the middle of writing a Graves thing when I got this idea and I knew I just had to get that damn little brain worm out before it ruined my life further. This is gonna be a series!!!!!

The mission had gone wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong. 141 thought they were smart by teaming up with Los Vaqueros again to take down a trafficking ring - “Positive international relations,” Price had called it. “We even got imported muscle.” He grinned, referring to the 6’10” man they had called in, after hearing of his ability to do his job and keep his mouth shut.

 However, the ring had decided on the same tactic, bringing in a nearby cartel to defend their location. Quickly, way too quickly, the group was overwhelmed, frantically phoning in to Laswell for extraction.

“Don’t worry,” She sighed, after directing the seven men to a relatively safe area, the black-tinted SUV already flying gravel. “I have a friend.”

You had just so happened to be the friend. Well, the relative was more accurate, being her sister-in-law. You knew what she did for work, but you never thought she would call on you for help with it.

“Please, (Y/N), it’ll only be for a few days, I swear. A week, tops.” She called you early one November morning. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” And you knew she wouldn’t. The fact was simple: You had lived relatively nearby, and the bed and breakfast you operated and lived in certainly had the facilities to house eight people, and it so happened to be the off-season.

You were eager to accept, happy to help your sister, and it would be nice to have some muscle with the chores that needed done around the property. When the SUV pulled up, you quickly regretted your decision. You had expected a house full of military boys, tearing around like a pack of dogs, but out stepped six of the most attractive men you have ever seen, all completely different, but equally as handsome and rugged. Two were masked, but Christ, were they big anyway. As they loaded packs out of the van, you stepped into the grass, the cold air causing you to draw your cardigan tighter around yourself. When you approached, you kept a safe distance - partly because you didn’t know them, but also because you were afraid that if you got too close, you’d get lost in the intricacies of their faces.

“Hey!” You spoke finally, the rustling of the dying leaves nearly drowning you out. “I’m (Y/N), I hope the trip out wasn’t too awful!” You internally cringed at yourself for giving them the usual spiel you reserved for guests, but continued anyway. “Come on in, all the rooms are pretty much the same, but you can pick, so… that’s something.”

“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” One of them finally spoke, casting a friendly grin your way, and you turned quickly to hide the burning on your cheeks. 

You were proud of the way your property looked, hidden well off the road in a small forested area, the whole thing had kind of an eclectic feel to it, but you still felt kind of strange leading them into the common area. 

“Okay!” You clasped your hands together, and tried to remember that you were only a housing opportunity - they had more important things to focus on. “Well, uh, I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can, but you might see me flitting about here and there. What’s mine is yours.” Some nodded their thanks, others were making quick work of checking their bags for God knows what, and one, the one in a skull mask, merely stared down at you, his large arms crossed on his chest.

Okay… You took that as your cue to leave, and you quickly stepped out the back door, hoping to make progress on your chores before the sun set.

The frigid air felt nearly unbearable compared to how hot you were burning in their presence - you didn’t even realize that you were slightly sweating. With a sigh, you reminded yourself of your responsibilities. Repaint the gazebo, refill and hang the bird feeders, and fix the greenery so everything is in full bloom by summer. Leaves crunched under your step as the half-painted gazebo came into view. You could hear voices coming from your house, a few with different accents, mostly British, but you could pick out a Scottish, a vaguely German, and a couple Spanish lilts. A booming laugh echoed, and you relaxed your tense shoulders at the sound. 

“Don’t make me regret this, Kate.” You mumbled as you settled into the grass and popped open a paint can.

She was pretty. It was the first thing Soap had noticed. It looked like she belonged here, in the woods, with the wind blowing her hair and birds singing in her presence. No doubt she kept them well-fed. He had barely listened when she spoke - he was much too focused on how her sweater wrapped tightly around her body, or how her eyes seemed to physically sparkle with curiosity. She had said something, Soap had no idea, but he responded anyway. Something about the drive? The rooms?

“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” He answered, stabbing that it was an appropriate response. The way she averted her eyes and a hint of a smile played at the edges of her lips told him that he was successful. When she turned around to lead them into the safehouse, Price gave him a nudge and shook his head ‘no.’ No fucking Kate’s pretty little sister? Might as well ask him to walk on fucking water, next. 

She had promised to make herself scarce, and Soap was silently thankful. He didn’t want this woman caught up in what they were doing, and he didn’t want her to know something that could get her in trouble - Laswell would never forgive them. When she left, Alejandro was the first to speak.

“Nobody talk to me about this mission tonight.” He grumbled, and Soap recognized that as a request long ago, based on the way his jaw was clenched nearly the entire drive to the location, muttering what Soap assumed to be expletives every so often. He trudged up the stairs with his bag, Rudy trailing not far behind. 

“Right, then.” Ghost spoke, rolling his shoulders and pulling out a map of the enemy facility and laying it on the wood table, and Soap nearly laughed at how out of place it looked. “If they’ve gotten support from that gang, it eliminates them from support from anyone else, and makes them a target to others, not just us.”

“We need to get to them first.” Konig’s hand landed on the map, gesturing vaguely at an entrance. “This was lightly guarded.” Soap stared at the location, before his eyes flitted out the window to see you approaching a gazebo outside, and he itched to get this out of the way.

“Aye, they might reinforce that entrance since they know it’s weak now. Leaves somewhere else open to vulnerability.” Soap strategized, his eyes lingering on how your hands ran through your hair, and JESUS, how did it still look perfect after that? A light thump on the back of his head pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked back to see Gaz with a raised eyebrow, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. 

“No-go, mate. Red zone. Laswell would have your head on a stick.”

“Might be worth it.” Ghost chimed in, following his gaze to the woman.

Price pointed a warning finger to Ghost, his face stony.

“Ghost, stop instigating. Gaz, leave Soap alone. Konig…” He took a breath, considering the man had nothing to do with their antics. “Good job. Soap, I wish I had control over who a soldier decides to sleep with, but I don’t.”

“That girl in Ibiza left a bad taste in your mouth, Cap?” Soap retorted, recalling one of his more infamous hook-ups, and Price laughed loudly.

“Lesson for the inexperienced,” Ghost turned to Konig. “Remember your date’s name or she will throw a knife at you.” Konig shook his head at this, and slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to call it a day.

“Sounds like my kind of woman.”

Soap had already tuned the ribbing out, and when Ghost packed up the plans, he was already tracing your path, walking out the back door to meet you.

A rustling of leaves caused your head to perk up, and you turned to see the one who had spoken to you earlier, a small smile on his face.

“Need any help?” He tilted his head at the gazebo. “More hands make less work ‘n all.” You looked back at your work, having made minimal progress since you began. 

“Oh! Yeah, sure. If you want.” You responded, pulling the paint tray out in front of you so he could take the spare paintbrush. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again.

“I’m Johnny. Most of the guys call me Soap, though.”

Soap? The nickname seemed to come out of nowhere, and you crinkled your nose at this.

“Why do they call you that? You shower more than everyone else or something?” He laughed at this, reaching up to cover the underside of a railing in white paint, and you fought to keep your eyes from lingering on his arms.

“Good at cleaning house, love.” Soap corrected you, your lips pursing at the nickname. “How long have you had this place?”

You shrugged, simply happy that he was making conversation with you.

“Coupl’a years. Since I was twenty. Bought it as a dump and flipped it.” He makes a noise of approval and takes a deep breath. 

“Your, uh, boyfriend live here with you, does he?” At this, you can’t help but allow a laugh to tear through you, both in recognition of what Soap was doing, and out of pure shock that he was doing it.

“Not sure where my boyfriend lives, I haven’t met him yet. Let me know if you find him, though, yeah?” Soap shook his head.

“I don’t think I will, but thank you for the offer.”

The back and forth with Soap left your head reeling, and you considered your options as you painted in silence. Kate would kill you if she found out, but she doesn’t need to find out. It has been terribly long since you’ve even been on a date, or even had sex for that matter, and Soap certainly isn’t the worst looking man in the world. He clearly had a great body, and you delved down the rabbit hole of how his arms would look pinning your arms above your head, his battle-worn dog tag trailing cold electricity down your chest.

A flash of yellow light pulled you out of your musings, and a firefly landed on your knee. You took a deep breath and turned to Soap, his attention garnered by your sudden movement of waving the small bug away.

“Do you wanna have a drink tonight? With me?” Your face was comically serious, and Soap let out a soft chuckle as he replaced the lid on the paint, taking the brush from your hand.

“Aye.” He stood, sighing a bit at the noise his knees made, and handed you the paint tray.

“I’ll, uh, go put this up and meet you inside.” You offered him a small smile, and his head tilted at you, trying to hide his own.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Soap had to stop himself from running back into the house. Giddiness coursed through him, and he burst through the door to see Gaz, Ghost, and Konig sat in various places around the living room, the TV tuned in to the local news.

“Get the fuck out.” He stated simply, his eyes wide and a dumb grin on his face.

“Pardon?” Ghost barely spared him a glance, and Konig automatically stood, silently confused as to where he was supposed to go. Gaz merely stared up at him.

“I said,” Soap wrapped his hand around Ghost’s bicep and pulled, forcing the man to stand, and Gaz followed. “Get the fuck out.”

“You sendin’ us to bed, then, eh?”

Soap picked up Ghost’s bag for him, and shoved it into his chest, nearly pushing the men up the stairs.

“I am.” He turned to Gaz, his mouth already open to protest, and pointed a finger in his face. “If you fuck this up for me, I will end you.” 

The second the three men shut the door to their respective rooms, you stepped back into the house, locking the backdoor behind you.

I raised an eyebrow at the television, and grinned at Soap.

“Did you turn on the news?” I ask, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of wine from cabinets, pouring us both a fairly full glass.

“Yeah, it’s a new form of foreplay.” He laughed, taking a sip. “Learnin’ that we world is shite.” 

“Oh, so foreplay is important to you?” And that question was your first step. He glanced at you from across the kitchen island, and you could just see the gears in his mind turning, figuring out the best way to get himself into your bed. Honestly, he could have asked to bend you dead over the kitchen counter, his large hand pulling your hair as leverage as he thrusted into you from behind.

But your imagination always runs wild.

“Mm. ‘S very important.” You cocked your head at his answer, and he shrugged. “I prefer to have a girl simply beggin’ before I even think of finishing.” He took a step around the island, not quite in front of you, but leaning on the side. You sipped your wine again, trying to cover your reaction to his answer, but there was no wine glass big enough to cover how you pressed your legs together, one hand gripping the counter with slightly more force than necessary.

“How do you do that?” It was an effort to keep your tone even , trying not to show how badly he was affecting you.

“Eh.” He set his wine glass down, finger lightly circling the base of the stem. “Usually have ‘em coming a few times before I get my own.”

Holy fuck. You needed Soap, and you needed him bad.

“Ah, so only good reviews then?” Damnit, why is your voice suddenly higher? You cleared your throat to try to get it to return to normal, and the fucking bastard smirked at you.

“So far. Tell me, love.” That damn nickname again. “When was the last time you were fucked?” You opened your mouth to answer, but it didn’t matter as Soap began talking again. “Ah, lemme revise that. When was the last time you were properly fucked? The last time someone had you cryin’, had you just stupid on their cock?”

You were buzzing, shaking slightly at Soap’s vulgar words. His accent got lower, rougher as he spoke, and you could feel your arousal tying a knot in your throat.He simply stared at you, waiting for your answer with a dumb smile on his face, like he already knew.

“Oh, no, don’t tell me…” He began, in mock sympathy. “Never?” You shook your head at him, not wanting to tell him the truth.

In all reality, you’ve never orgasmed with someone else. It was all only you, and you learned quickly not to say this, as all men would try to be the first. Then you’d end the night by lying, and they would go with their egos inflated.

You both stood, the tension in the kitchen more than you could bear, and just as you were about to dismiss yourself for the night, Soap wrapped a hand around your forearm - Not tightly enough to worry you, but just enough so you looked up at him, your faces inches from each other.

“Love, I don’t like to, uh, think I’m all that, y’know?” He cleared his throat. “But I’d like to try. Show some thanks to our host.”

In one last attempt at quieting down your own perverse thoughts, you set your wine glass down, and looked at the floor.

“Ah, you don’t need to thank me Soap.”

“I absolutely do,” He responded immediately. “I really do need to. Nothin’ better than a pretty face while I work.”

You bite the inside of your lip, considering all the ways this could go bad. Every single one was overrun with the way Soap was searching your eyes, silently pleading for you. With a purse of your lips, you poured the rest of your wine down the sink, and smiled.

“Absolutely.”

You barely got the words out before Soap wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way up the stairs, searching for any room that didn’t look like it was already occupied.

“Mine’s on the other end.” You breathed in an effort not to laugh at his eagerness, and he turned on his heels toward a door that was differently painted than the rest. He placed a hand over your head, protecting you from a bump as he ducked through the doorframe, and less-than-gently set you on your bed, locking the door behind him.

When he turned, you didn’t see the sweet man offering to help you with painting, you saw a soldier. A soldier tuned into your every breath, every movement, and every thought. He kneeled in front of the bed, between your legs, and began planting lighter than air kisses on your ankle, untying your shoes and setting them to the side haphazardly.

“Red means stop.” He whispered against your skin, traveling upward to your knee. “Yellow is slow down, green is good. Repeat it.”

“Red is-“ You were cut off by your own gasp as he delivered a light bite to the inside of your thigh before kissing it again, and you could feel him smile against you. “Red is stop. Yellow is slow. Green is good.”

“And where are we now?” He breathed against the spot right where your thigh met your most sensitive area, and you felt your stomach jump.

“Green. So, so green.” A whimper escaped you, and Soap tsked, like he was about to scold you.

“Stay quiet, lass.” Teased Soap, as he slid your shorts down, along with your underwear, and he whistled lowly. “A Chriosd ann an ifrinn, seall ort, a nighean bhòidheach.” And with that, he licked one long, thick strip up your cunt, dipping down to tease your hole with his tongue. Soap was eating you out like a man starved, and you were obsessed. 

Light, breathy moans left you, ever so aware of how quiet everything else was. 

“Tell me what feels good, love.” He punctuated his command with a nip to your thigh, pulling your mind out of the pleasure-induced haze. His tongue traveled through your folds, eyes trained on you to see your reaction to his ministrations. Soap’s lips wrap around your clit, fingers toying with your soaking entrance, and it felt like all rational thought had left you. You didn’t care about who exactly was between your legs, nor if his team could hear your desperate mewls.

The pressure inside you was building, and your movement was strange - trying to wriggle away from the incessant barrage against your clit, and trying to grind impossibly closer to Soap’s lips, and by his huff, it was clear he had enough of that. One large arm wrapped around a thigh, his other pressing down on your abdomen, and the only noise Soap could muster was a few low groans as he continued devouring you.

The knot inside you was getting tighter and tighter, and it felt like it was going to snap any second. A split moment of panic ran through you as your back arched off the bed, Begs and cries tumbling out of your lips before you could think of them.

“Soap, please, please.” You cried, hands aching from gripping the sheets. “Please don’t stop, please…” Staying true to your direction, Soap was unrelenting against you, the combination of his sucking, biting, and licking at your clit had dizzy spots appearing in your vision. With one hard push on your abdomen, and a particularly slow drag of his tongue at your entrance, you felt that snap, and you finally understood why it was called the Little Death.

Your mind had gone completely blank, mouth open in a silent scream, and your thighs clamped around either side of Soap’s head, where he still had yet to stop drinking you. It felt like your heart had even stopped beating, until the pounding was heard in your ears. As Soap continued, you felt your body lurch upwards, fingers tangling in Soap’s hair until he finally looked up at you, his hand coming back to slide a finger into you.The sudden intrusion forced a gasp from you, and he gently kissed your thigh, where you noticed the ache that predates a bruise.

“How we doin’, love? We okay?” His voice was impossibly sweet, a complete 180 to how he just made you feel. You nodded, despite feeling like every single sense in your body had been blown out. His finger continued sliding in and out of you, your walls pulsing around him.

“Green.” You confirmed breathily, and he smiled a wolfish grin before adding a second digit into you, his pace quickening. A quick flash of aggravation and desperation coursed through you, and you knew how to get exactly what you wanted. 

You looked down at him, eyebrows upturned in a pleading look, and your doe-eyes were working overtime. 

“Please, Soap, just fuck me.” You said, voice higher and more gentle than you thought it would come out, and he groaned, rolling his head against your leg. His fingers took on a ‘come here’ motion, and your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the feeling.

“Ah, I know what you want. You want these…” Soap planted a kiss on your thighs, interrupting his own speech. “God, these pretty thighs pinned behind your head, taking me so well, takin’ me so good.” He looked absolutely pussydrunk, his eyes darting between your eyes and his fingers, tsking and offering a slight noise of false sympathy when a tear rolled down your cheek. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, and you could feel that fire building inside of you again. “Christ, love, you wanna come again, huh?” You nodded furiously at his question, one hand coming up to absentmindedly play with your tits. A bright look crossed Soap’s face, and while his hands continued, his mouth met your hands.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, and before you could think, he bit down - the orgasm that crashed through you was stronger than the last, and the muscles in your thighs screamed from being clenched so tightly. You felt his fingers work their way out of your pussy, hissing at the feeling of your walls clenching around nothing.

“You want me to fuck you now, pretty thing?” His face was almost smug as he climbed up on the bed, one hand going to your lower back to effortlessly raise you, and he peppered light kisses on your sweat-covered face. Of course you want him, how could you not? Your body was buzzing with the aftershocks of two orgasms, and here he was, lining himself up with you.

“God, yes, please.” You breathed, hands coming to rest on his back. Soap brought his lips down next to your ear, sending another shock straight to your core.

“Beg better.” He punctuated his command by rubbing his cock through your folds, and you twitched when the head ground against your already sensitive clit. Beg better? Fuck you, Soap. 

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you and, hopefully, how serious you looked.

“Fuck me, Soap. Now.” 

The simple instruction was all it took for him to push inside you, and it was like it activated something in him - Soap simply could not shut up.

“Ach, mo Dhia, tha thu a 'faireachdainn cho foirfe timcheall orm. So perfect.” He planted a kiss to your temple. “So perfect, my pretty girl.” 

You brought your lips up to his neck, kissing the curve where it meets his shoulder, and his babbling only continued as his cock dragged against nearly every nerve, your broken moans echoing through your room. God, his slow pace was nearly agonizing, you wanted more, you needed more. It was like Soap read your mind as he paused, hooking your knees above his shoulders, effectively pinning you into the mattress. He flashed you a wicked grin before he began his jackhammer pace, and this new position had him reaching impossibly deep inside you.

A vague, low ache began in your abdomen every time he bottomed out, his head kissing your cervix every single time. The depth combined with his pace, his groaning and endless praise in your ear - it felt like it was all culminating in a perfect storm, one that was threatening to break down every fibre of your being.

“Fuck, Soap, I’m going to-” You interrupted yourself with a low, hoarse groan, your admission only spurring him on as he replaced his hold on your knees with his hands.

“Look at me, love, I wanna see it, I wanna see you.” His stuttering hips told you he was in the same spot as you, and you both were not going to last much longer. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He growled, and that was all it took for you.

Your legs shook uncontrollably as you released around him, and your ending brought his own on. Curses left him lips as he buried himself inside you, collapsing next to you.

“Ach, come ‘ere.” He breathed, reaching his arm out to hook around your waist and pulling you to him, one leg wrapping around his waist. One hand rested on your jaw, planting kisses on your forehead, cheek, anywhere he could get access to. Your body felt numb, and you knew he stayed true to his word - you were fucked absolutely stupid. You wanted to talk, you wanted to ask where this left you? Would you ignore that this happened? Would it recur? Would he tell his team about it? You wanted to ask, and yet you didn’t - The song of crickets and his heartbeat was a lullaby, and one that you couldn’t fight.

The snare of sleep overtook you as your heart rate evened out, and only one thought was on your mind before you gave up the fight for consciousness:

You really fucking hope you don’t regret this.

[espercognitive]

She was a Seamstress, He was an actor.

Timothée Chalamet x Fem!Reader Pt1

This is my first fic on here! I've been like hiding in the shadows but i have to force myself to write! so I'm just experimenting with fic writing. This is probably gonna be a series about theater! your character is theater technician so all the cool behind the scenes stuff is there. You work in costume and you are assigned to Timothée's character! The reader is fem presenting and has female pronouns! I'm going to include gender neutral readers in the future!(also should I put Timothee or Timothée?)

TW: Swearing, Mild mention nudity, Some sexual tension.

Word count: 1.18k

Show season had finally begun for your theater. After training in high school, you got picked to be a seamstress for a well known theater in New York. Your work was paying off and you could finally see your work being used to its full potential. Going from small local high school productions, you had now gotten the opportunity to work with real actors and actresses. People who you were going to help bring a character to life. Especially for the show 'Anything Goes'

But what you hadn't expected was being assigned to Timothée Chalamet.

Unfortunately, you knew who he was. He had been an actor when you were in high school, but even with the familiarity, you still couldn't help but be a bit frustrated. This wasn't the first time you had to work with him, it'd actually be the second time. The first time made you swear you'd never work with him again. Sophomore year had been going smoothly, that was until your theater department had decided to do Sweet Charity. After working with him that show, hearing the name Oscar Lindquist made you shudder. He had been a senior, and he had been popular in the theater department since his freshman year. You were excited to dress a popular actor, but it was the complete opposite of what you had imagined. Instead of a wonderful maybe even flirtatious encounter

Until you got the character assignments, and you see his name right next to yours.

'Oh fuck' you thought to yourself. You sighed as you walked into the costume shop. You had hope that he had grown out of his annoying behavior, but when he walked in to get measurements done, you figured that probably wasn't the case. He strutted into the costume shop, dopey smile on his face, and that same white boy swag he had in his senior year. You felt sophomore you cringe as he walked over to you.

"Y/N right?" he questioned.

"Yes." you mumbled.

You picked up the measuring tape and started to take his measurements. Typically this wouldn't be such a big deal, that was until you had to measure his waist and crotch area. Now back in high school, this wasn't such a big deal. They had the male costumers take those measurements for the actors and female costumers for the actresses. But this wasn't high school anymore, and you had a big girl job, in which you were responsible for getting this right. You crouched down, face to dick, trying to distract yourself from how close the two of you were when you heard him say,

"Do I know you from somewhere? I normally can recognize a cute face wherever I go, but i can't put a name on you."

"Yea we actually went to the same high school together."

"Really? Were you a seamstress then, or did you start now?"

You sighed and answered almost finished with the rest of his measurements.

"Uh yea I was. I was your costumer when we did Sweet Charity."

He jumped messing up your placement as you tried again.

"Hey can you not move so muc-" He cut you off before you could finish your request.

"OH! I remember you! You were that shy little sophomore. I remember how you never yelled no matter how many times I fucked up my costume" He smiled to himself as he finished bringing up that frustrating memory.

"Yea. I probably should've. Ok Stop moving I'm almost done."

"Ok Ok. Seems like you've gotten more a fire to you at least" He mumbled that last part, a little afraid to say it out loud. You gave him a look.

"Ok I finished. I'm gonna pull some stuff and then tomorrow I'll have you come and try some stuff on." You walked off refusing to look at him in the eyes, grabbing your paper with the measurements.

"Yea ok. Thats cool. See you tomorrow Y/N"

You figured this was going to be an interesting show. Only 2 more months till the show opened.

The next day

You had spent all day yesterday pulling close that would fit him. It was weird doing the same thing again. You thought about how frustrated you were in your sophomore year. But maybe he could be different. You would be lying if the crush you had on him still lingered around. Maybe you could get close this time the way you had wanted to in high school.

Nope. Don't start those thoughts. He's your coworker. Nothing more.

You laid out the pants and clothes you needed him to try. Of course as the character Billy, you'd need every one of his outfits to be different and unique. But you'd have to make a sailor costume from scratch. Which meant for the next few weeks, there'd be many fittings. But you just needed to focus on what you had right now, which was being delayed as Timothée was late.

After distracting and helping some other seamstresses, the man or the hour finally decided to make his appearance.

"Hey Y/N. Woah whats up with the face?" He questioned.

"Well your an hour late. I have to go in like an hour for a doctors appointment so we have to make this fast."

"Oh sorry. Well uh I got you a drink. You used to drink apple juice all the time during Sweet Charity so I figured you'd want this."

You look up into his eyes, he seemed genuine. You smiled as you took the bottle.

"Thank you Timothée. If you bring me an apple juice every time you're late, I'll make sure no one finds out." You smiled at him.

"Really? Thats a deal then."

"Ok. Its time to try on all of these outfits I have laid out. If they don't fit, don't worry about it. I can fix some of the sizes on the pants too."

"Ok, but small problem. Theres a lot of people in the dressing rooms, I don't know if we'll have room to do this."

"Oh fuck. Hmm. Crap I have to get this done."

"I can try and find somethin-" You cut him off with an idea.

"Actually, theres a couch room upstairs in the theater. It's pretty empty normally so you should have enough room to change in there." You smiled as you felt satisfied with that idea, until he said,

"Oh a couch room? You want to watch me undress in the couch room? You're definitely not that shy little sophomore anymore apple."

"Apple? Also thats not what I meant! I do not want to be apart of the reason the couches cannot be looked at under a black light."

He giggled as he grabbed the clothes.

"Yea apple. Like apple juice. I don't know, just thought I'd be cute for you."

you laughed as you responded "and I'm not the shy one anymore."

The two of you made it up the stairs and got into the couch room to just try on clothes. Definitely just try on clothes. Nothing else was going to happen...

[pancakesandpessimism]

Luz is the character of all time, I swear to Titan

She starts the series off canonically weak, at least from a physical standpoint, but by the time the season one finale hits she pretty much solos storming a prison. And not only does she make it out of this incredibly dangerous situation alive, but despite probably having to fight through a lot of guards to reach Eda, there are only two people in that entire building who she isn’t able to immediately mop the floor with. 

What's more, look at the state they’re in after she’s done with them! 

Casual reminder that she did this back when she only had four spells at her disposal, only three of which were combative!  

And despite this clear badassery, she isn’t OP or the strongest character in the series, barring temporary titanification. Heck, she isn’t even the strongest member of her immediate friend group! Pretty much all of her big fights (Ex. Grom, Belos rounds 1 & 2, the Abomiton in EE, heck any of her fights aside from the Stonesleeper in EaE) she either lost or needed someone’s help to finish/simply survive. 

And yet she managed to trick a man who mastered manipulation centuries before she was even born, twice, and became the champion of a god. 

But also she once got a magic cold that made her think she had snake arms.

Her adoptive mom is a proud criminal who introduced the son she’d been raising for 8 years as her roommate, and is in love with a nonbinary rebel leader/band geek. Her birth mother is a trekkie who once beat up a flat earther with a flip-flop while she and her snake-sister watched. Said sister spent months stealing her identity, and once mispelled her name in a letter to her mother. 

She met god, and he was wearing sweatpants. Her little brother is the son of god, and accidentally predicted her death in a one-off joke before almost getting them both crushed to death by a snappily dressed lizard later that day. 

She meets her first real friend, who is one of the most powerful witches in the entire series, and less than an hour later they’re sneaking her into school so said friend can cheat on a project. 

Her second real friend, who is also one of the most powerful witches in the series and a massive human nerd, took out a Coven Head by accident while having a breakdown, and she had to hear about the whole thing second hand. 

She shot her future found brother/trauma buddy off of an airship, then saved his life less than an hour later. They speedran the ‘enemies to friends to siblings’ pipeline but with 10x the trauma, and were both murdered by the same centuries-old puritan witch hunter. 

She challenged her future girlfriend to a duel before she knew how to use a combative spell, and both of their teachers made them unintentionally cheat. Said future girlfriend also kissed her on the cheek, and she still spent a whole day freaking out about how to ask her crush on a date before said crush beat her to it seconds before she got the question out. 

She has some of the coolest moments in the entire series. One of her most heartbreaking scenes takes place under the tree she and her girlfriend made when they defeated a nightmare monster with the Power of Love™. She considered going to prom in an otter onesie.

For 99% of the series, she’s at her most powerful when armed with nothing but a (most likely pickpocketed) notepad and a pack of crayons.  

What a character. 

[nolita-fairytale]

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: june/july

summary: you and carmy plan a wedding like it's the opening of a new restaurant.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov

wc: 3.4k

listen to: let's get married (bleachers cover) - mitski

a/n: the long awaited wedding FIC!! welcome to part four of the 'make my heart surrender' universe (four part series). this takes place a month after the end of 'still into you' but before the carmy as your baby daddy headcanon series (my carmy masterlist is organized chronologically, if you'd like to read in order). anyways, i truly adore writing for these two and feel it important to note that after watching season 2, i've realized this has just become an animal of its own -- its own universe/timeline/entity which also means there AREN'T any SEASON TWO SPOILERS! this chapter was inspired by a conversation from two months ago between me and @carmensberzattos so courtesy of us, enjoy some healthy relationship-future husband!carmy. also don't worry syd will be starring in the next chapter. i missed her too. lmk if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist.

masterlist | part two

"let's just get married, don't wanna walk alone, so let's get married, 'cause we don't wanna walk alone or runaway." (bleachers, let's get married.)

'I just want to be married to you' are the words uttered (first by you, you think, but maybe he said it first, you really can’t remember) that lead you and Carmy to the decision that you should elope. Sooner rather than later, preferably, is what you both agree on. It’s not like you’re planning on having a big wedding anyways. How much work can a civil ceremony at City Hall and a nice dinner party afterwards be to pull off?

Famous last words. 

You’re not sure how you’ve gotten from there to here, locked in a heated debate over menu edits with your fiance in the middle of your shared apartment when the sun’s just barely come up, but here you are.

“I’m just saying that we should be open minded and leave room for his artistic integrity!” Carmy passionately argues, winding you up as he makes his case. 

“Artistic integrity? Carmy, are you kidding me right now? I-!” you fire back, shaking your head incredulously. “We said we were gonna keep everything chill.”

“It is chill!” he defends, matter-of-factly.

Oh, he’s just looking for a fight.

“There is nothing chill about a parm espuma and it certainly doesn’t belong anywhere near the carbonara!” you scoff, stubbornly. “I mean, the only reason he even brought up the idea of a goddamn espuma in the first place is because he was trying to impress you.”

Carmy’s jaw twitches in response as he grinds his teeth, a display of discomfort at the mere thought.

“He-he was not,” he denies with the kind of conviction of a five year old toddler who's sure as can be.

You shoot him a look. 

“Carmen,” you warn him. 

Sure it’s a silly thing to fight about, but there’s no malice in this argument. It’s all passion, artistry, and for lack of a better term, foreplay. You let out a sigh, softening before you rise out of your chair. 

“Baby, when are you going to admit that you’re kind of a big deal and that people want to impress you?” you level with him, making your way over to your very stubborn and very insistent fiance. You settle down onto his lap, before tucking a stray curl behind his ear as you break, giving the sweetest smile.

He laughs dryly, averting his eyes from you because he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stand his ground (especially when you’re looking at him like that). 

You’re right. And he knows you’re right. 

And Carmy’s never been able to resist you for long anyways. 

A fox-like grin spreads across your lips and you know you’ve won the argument when you feel a pair of hands snake around your waist. 

“Don’t push it,” he warns you, seeing the look on your face as he shakes his head, finally returning his eyes to yours. 

You raise an eyebrow, “You like that I push.” 

He nods slowly in surrender, his face softening as he asks you:

“You really want to fight about this?” 

You shake your head with a laugh. 

“No, of course not! Of course, I don’t want to fight about this!” you exhale, sliding your hands over his shoulders to wrap around his neck. “But I do think that your new buddy is trying to impress us and that it may be wise for us to reign him in – clear the air on what it is we’re looking for.” 

A beat. 

“Don’t get me wrong. Of course, we can leave room for creativity… but I don’t want our wedding party to turn into some pretentious fine dining fancy party.”

“Well, we did meet because of some pretentious fine dining fancy thing,” he points out, giving your hip a squeeze. 

You giggle, “How could I forget?”

You shake your head once more, leaning in to press your lips against his. Carmy inhales deeply, enjoying the feel of your lips on his, your arms wrapped around his neck, the weight of your body on his lap. 

You indulge him for a moment, deepening the kiss as you feel your future husband relax against you, because you really are happy that Carmy’s made a new friend. 

Carmy had met a private chef a few months ago and had been trying to hire him for the restaurant for a while now. Wanting to work for himself, the chef had respectfully declined all advances, but he and Carmy had kept in touch, and it looked as if the relationship could potentially extend outside of the four walls of a kitchen. Since you both agreed that no one from the restaurant should work the party, it had been good timing (making a new friend and the fact that he was a private chef) and the right move for Carmy to ask his new friend to cater the wedding.

“Fine,” you resign yourself, pulling away from the kiss. “Derek can keep the liquid nitrogen but that is as far as it goes.”

Carmy shoots you a look – one that says he’s not quite convinced. 

“And I will be more open minded in the spirit of… artistic integrity. But I’m not changing my mind about courses. Family style or bust, baby,” you negotiate, a serious look in your eyes. 

Carmy thinks it over for a moment before finally coming to a resolution. 

“Deal,” Carmy nods with the same intensity as a ‘yes, chef.’

You nod too, completing the agreement. 

“I want it to be real, Carm. I want it to be us,” you reiterate, your voice soft as you make your condition loud and clear. 

“I know,” he returns, just as determined and committed to the idea as he is to you. 

You’re satisfied with the resolution – even more satisfied with the fact that you’ve come to it together. 

“You know…” he starts, something in his voice that you can’t quite make out, unsure if you’re going to like what’s about to come out of his mouth. “... it could be a perfect menu if you just let me-.”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Carmen!” you interrupt, knowing exactly what he was going to say. 

You are so not playing this game today.

“You don’t even know what I was-!”

“Yes, I do! You are not catering your own wedding party,” you protest, adamantly.  

You know him too well. 

He laughs, shaking his head as he leans back against his chair, like he’s in high school again, and you’ve just caught him sneaking back into the house. 

“God, I love you! But sometimes you drive me up the wall, Carm,” you groan out of frustration, eliciting another laugh from his chest as you hang your head, resting your forehead against his shoulder this time.

“Such a control freak,” you sigh, against his chest. 

“Thought you like it when I take control,” he murmurs, beginning to leave kisses across your exposed skin. 

You giggle partially because it tickles, and mostly because of what Carmy’s said. 

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

You lift your head and Carmy kisses you again, this time savoring the way your lips feel against his for a little while longer – just long enough to remind himself that he wants to have the option to sneak away in the middle of your wedding party to have sex much more than he wants cater to be in control all the time. 

Sometimes, he thinks to himself, control is overrated anyways. 

Only sometimes.

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, letting go of the idea. “I’ll get back to Derek about final menu edits and make sure he knows that while we want him to be creative, we also want to keep it… you know….”

“Chill?” you emphasize. 

“Chill,” he confirms.

“Okay. Thank you, baby,” you smile softly, trying your best to enjoy the temporary moment of peace between the two of you. Carm squeezes your hip as you roll your eyes with a sigh, muttering an:

“Oh fuck.” 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head again, laughing incredulously before letting out another sigh. 

“Just wait till we go through this again with the cake.”

“Fuck!” Carmy shouts towards the ceiling, throwing his head back as you laugh. “Why did we say we wanted to plan a wedding again?”

“Well baby, I don’t think either of us can pass up on a chance to create a menu,” you giggle, leaving a few kisses along his jawline before you make your way up to his nose. “Can you imagine if we decided to have a full-on wedding? That’d be a freaking mess.”

He chuckles, “It’d be like opening another restaurant.”

“Yeah, pass,” you hum, so glad to have dodged that bullet.

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

By the time you and Carmy are even ready to focus on the cake portion of said wedding-dinner-party it’s a month later. You’ve been through half of the bakeries in the city, you think, and something’s just felt off. You’re practically eating your words, as it dawns on you that you’re having the exact same thought as Carmy: that it could just be perfect if you were able to make it yourself. 

Then again, you remind yourself that a cake is an entirely different thing versus running a dinner service, so it can’t be that unhinged to have these thoughts, right?

But you and Carmy made an agreement, so in solidarity, you decide it’s only fair for you to make like Tammy Wynette and stand by your man. 

You’re grateful for the half day you have today (“Summer Fridays”, as it’s so fondly referred to around your office) – and the fact that you get to work from home. What it means for you is that today you can clock out early and pick up samples from the tenth bakery (okay, so maybe it’s the eleventh but truthfully, you’ve lost count) in the running for your wedding cake. 

You change out of your pajamas for the first time today, throwing on a slip dress and one of Carmy’s crisp, white Ralph Lauren button downs – worn layered and open like a cardigan – before you head to the bakery, and then eventually, The Bear.

The restaurant is closed for the afternoon, as they do a shift change over: some stay and take a break, others go home, let the dinner crew come in and take over. It’s different these days and while some days you miss it – the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, the sounds of an ‘all day’ shouted by the expeditor, the careful dance that is working in a kitchen – you remind yourself that you’re enjoying a half day, and that when you’d chosen to leave, you were ready for a change. 

After entering The Bear, you make small talk with Gary while he finishes turning over the dining room for dinner, catching up over the flag football league he’s recently joined – one, it seems, to be taken very seriously by all participants. You tell him that you’re here with wedding cake samples, and he’s more than eager to give you some space to set up, because who doesn’t love free cake? Mid-sentence, Gary gestures towards a table for you to set up on, as you begin to unpack your large brown paper bag. 

“Well, well. Look who it is,” Marcus calls out, as soon as he sees you. “Heard a rumor you were out here. You brought cake?”

“I brought cake,” you repeat as confirmation, turning to see your dear friend and mentee. “But don’t worry. I’ll be thinking about yours the whole time.”

He snickers, moving in for a hug. 

“‘S Good to see you, Chef. How ya been?” he asks, enveloping you in his arms for a tight squeeze. 

“Good to see you too, Marcus. I’m good. Had a half day today so… you know, we’ve just been busy with wedding stuff. But what’s going on with you? What’s new?” you answer, turning the focus back onto him. 

“Oh you know. The usual. Though, I’ve been workin’ on some new shit for Syd’s new menu when I’m not here,” he answers, a broad smile spreading across his lips as he talks about. 

“Jeez, Brooks. I know, Carm’s got ya busy. When the hell do you ever sleep?” you ask, as you shake your head. 

“I don’t,” he answers plainly. 

And just as you’re about to remind Marcus to get some rest, Sugar comes bursting through the front doors, her rounded belly full on display now that she’s had a chance to tell almost everyone the news of her pregnancy. 

“Hey! Sorry I’m running late,” Sugar says, announcing her arrival. “Got tied up running an errand and then I had to stop at the store for Tums. This baby is killing me with the heartburn these days. Fucking christ.” 

“Oh, no big deal. I haven’t even seen Carmy yet,” you shrug, as she mutters a surprised ‘oh’ and Marcus mumbles something about going to get Carmy. “It’s good to see you!”

“Yo, Carm!” Marcus shouts, heading back to the kitchen while you and Sugar exchange hellos. 

“Awww, it’s good to see you too, sweetie,” she smiles, pulling you in for your second hug of the day. 

This is something you miss about working in the kitchen: the camaraderie, the found-family, all the love. 

“Wow this is… quite the spread,” Sugar mentions, eyeing the cakes you’ve laid out on the table.

“Yeah… they had a lot of ideas, I guess,” you say with a shrug. 

Sugar shoots you an unconvinced look. 

“Okay, fine.  I had a lot of ideas…” you admit guiltily. 

“...aaaand no one is going to do it the way you want it to be done,” Sugar sighs in the middle of your sentence. 

“And they were more than willing to play. I couldn’t help myself!” you finish, defending yourself. 

“Well, your enthusiasm is one of the many things I love about you, but… yeah, this is a lot,” Sugar grins as she gestures towards the overwhelming amount of cake you’ve just laid out on the table. 

Regardless, Sugar really can’t wait to be your sister-in-law. 

“Speaking of… I thought this was just a small wedding. It looks like you’re preparing to feed the entire French Army during Marie Antoinette’s reign.”

“Oh it still is – small,” you answer, simply. “I went a little overboard, didn’t I?”

“Why go through all this trouble? You might as well have a small ceremony instead of-,”

“No!” you protest, hearing another voice say the same thing. 

“Sugar, we’ve already told you that we don’t want to do anything big!” Carmy adds, as soon as he enters the dining room. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, sending you the softest smile as he looks your way.

“Hey you,” you smile in return as he approaches you, giving him a short ‘hello’ peck on the lips. 

“Fak attack!” Fak cries out, as he enters the dining room. “Ooooh cake tasting!”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, as Fak is quickly followed by some of the line cooks that have just wrapped up lunch service. 

It’s then that you hear Tina’s voice, growling something in Spanish as Richie speaks way too loudly about god knows what, as Ebra follows behind, somehow in the middle of a story that has little to do with whatever Tina and Richie are going on about. 

You smile to yourself, because you really do miss this part. 

“I told everyone we were doing a cake tasting,” Carmy starts, gesturing towards the rest of the staff as they join you. “That cool?”

“Totally. We have more than enough to share,”

“That’s true,” Sugar says. "And I can't complain because the baby is reeeeaaally craving cake these days."

As everyone at The Bear crowd around the circular dining table where you set up the cake tasting, you all enjoy bites here and there, comparing notes, sharing reactions to each flavor combo. 

Earl grey & lemon. A classic red velvet. And of course, you had to get a little weird with the black sesame clementine combination you’d dreamed up with the pastry chef you’d been working with. 

“I think my favorite is the black sesame and clementine but I doubt it’s a cake everyone will like. Doesn’t have the crowd appeal we probably should keep in mind,” you murmur to Carmy as the two of you watch his staff go on about the tiramisu-inspired one. 

“Well, babe, it’s our wedding! We can do whatever we want,” he encourages you. 

“I don’t know,” you sigh, paralyzed with indecision. 

“The tiramisu one is good. I’m leaning towards that,” Carmy shares with you, eager to hear your thoughts. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s a little too on the nose?” you reply, unsettled and unsure that any of these are right. 

“Why don’t you guys just let me make it?” Marcus interjects, asking the question he’s been wondering this entire time. 

“I-,” you start, unable to help the fact that your eyes begin to wet with emotion. “Really?” 

He laughs, glancing sideways at you. 

“Uh yeah. I’m a little offended neither of you did in the first place,” Marcus teases the two of you, though you know there’s some truth to it. 

You and Carmy exchange a look that says something along the lines of: ‘oh shit.’

“Well, we didn’t think you’d-,” you stammer, beginning to explain the why behind you and Carmy’s hesitation in the first place.

“We just thought you’d want to- that you should be able to enjoy the party,” Carmy adds, finishing your sentence, his eyes widening as he realizes that you both kinda fucked up. 

“Chefs,” he says, looking from you to Carmy once more, with a seriousness in his voice as he rises to his feet. “It would be my honor. And just because I’m makin’ the cake doesn’t mean I won’t be able to enjoy the party. I can do it in the days leading up to it.”

“Oh-, okay, yes! Yes!” you cry, leaping to your feet this time, as if you’re accepting Carmy’s proposal again. 

Richie rolls his eyes in response, groaning as he mutters something snarky to Fak, as Marcus pulls you into the biggest bear hug. 

“You all are a bunch of saps,” he scoffs, directing this next comment to Marcus this time. “You big softie!”

“Richie!” Sugar hisses, glaring the sharpest daggers from her eyeballs into Richie’s skull. 

“Oh fuck off, Richie,” you snort, with a laugh. “You’re just salty because… wait. Carm, you haven’t asked him yet?”

“Babe, I-,” Carmy whines, his eyes wide. “You just ruined the surprise!”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah ‘fuck’ is right,” he pouts, though he can never stay upset with you for too long. 

“What the fuck are you guys even talking about?” Richie asks, squinting as he looks between the two of you. 

You and Carmy share a knowing look, deciding that now is a better time as ever. 

“We want you to be our witness, Cousin. At the courthouse,” Carmy says, a soft intensity in his eyes as he answers Richie’s question.

“Jesus Christ,” Sugar snarks, with an eye roll as she realizes she’ll be stuck with him at the damn courthouse as well.

“Wh-?” Richie begins to ask, looking from Carmy to you, then back to Carmy again, tears welling up in his eyes as he realizes what Carmy’s just said. “You-? Really?”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, in a well-duh kind of tone. “Plus you know I can’t get married without my Ava there.”

“And sign the marriage license and everything?” Richie balks, because he really can’t believe it. 

“Yeah,” you reassure him. 

“Yeah. I mean, fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!” Richie declares, even more sentimental than Marcus this time. “Shit, Cuz… Hell yeah, I’ll sign the fuck out of that marriage license as your witness.”

Tina snickers, exchanging a look with Sugar, and earning a glare from Richie. He lowers his voice, directing the question towards you this time: 

“Oh and uh… cool if Ava still sings “Love Story?” I kinda promised her she could sing a Taylor Swift song as part of my best man speech and she insists that one is about you and Carmy,” Richie asks, looking around suspiciously, afraid of someone else hearing. 

“Awwww, Richie. Of course,” you coo, only melting inside a little at the thought.

“What?” Richie snaps, realizing that he hasn’t been as discreet as he thought he was. 

Sugar snorts in response, earning a laugh from both Tina and Marcus. 

It’s Marcus’ turn to roll his eyes at Richie this time. 

“What?” Richie repeats, this time with a little more annoyance in his voice. 

Sugar smirks, firing back with a:

“Who’s the big softie now, Rick?”

[faulty-writes]

Hii! I apologize if you keep getting notifications from me at such an hour but I cant get enough of your posts! I love the way you write Tenya!

So if I may trouble you just a bit longer…

Since it’s spooky season, what would your take be on vampire Tenya x f (or gn) reader? And vampire Monoma as well?

[ Oh I like trouble, trust me. Haha. Thank you. I swear I get so many compliments regarding how I write Tenya, makes me so proud of myself. One spooky season request coming up! ]

Despite being what many assumed was a "blood-sucking" creature, Tenya had a sense of elegance and self-discipline because of his upbringing. Yes, he was what most would refer to as a "rich kid" but he was not spoiled in any capacity and often adhered to his own rules which included having manners even when thirsty for blood.

Most found Tenya to be intimidating, but you found him intriguing despite initially being unaware of his true nature. The two of you met in a bookstore late at night and you recall the way he stumbled when he rounded the corner of a bookshelf to find you and the way he bowed and said "Pardon, I was unaware there was another frequenting this shop so late at night."

The two of you began to meet frequently at the bookstore after that, and although you thought it peculiar Tenya only requested to meet you at night. You assumed it was because he was busy during the day but in all truth, he was struggling to avoid revealing his true nature to you and feared that once you found out he was a vampire you'd…well you would not want to see him again.

He slipped one night, after pushing himself too far. Yes, self-control was essential. But one could only contain themselves for so long and vampires were particularly dangerous when deprived of blood. "I…I apologize I…I did not wish for you to see me as such a…monster," while initially a shock, you tried to be accepting and understanding of what he was.

Being the person you were, his vampiric world fascinated you, and he didn't hesitate to teach you about the history of his lineage or his nightly rituals which typically included performing a series of prayers, chants, and such before he drank whatever blood he had managed to obtain.

Unfortunately, Tenya also informed you of the dangerous side of his world. Mostly the rogue vampires who strayed from the societal rules of their world and killed or injured humans during their bloodlust. "I promise, I will not allow harm to come to you. Ensuring your safety is quite a priority." Yes…he would go to whatever lengths he needed to ensure you remained by his side.

To double ensure your safety, Tenya presented you with gifts frequently. Usually, these consisted of protective charms, blessed holy water, and amulets that were believed to ward off bad supernatural threats. Of course, he would never tell you the hoops he had to go through to get such gifts.

Sometimes it was hard to keep up with Tenya's schedule considering he was more active at night. But he assured you that he enjoyed your company and often insisted that you could rest when you appeared extremely tired. Waking up in his bed or falling asleep against his shoulder became a frequent occurrence for you.

His parents were hesitant to accept you and your growing relationship with their son. On the other hand, his brother, Tensei welcomed you with open arms. "It's awesome that my little bro finally found someone! And just to let you know, it doesn't matter if you're human, another vampire, or even a witch. I believe that people who look past such things are the coolest!" It was safe to assume that Tenya got his beliefs from Tensei.

"I believe with enough effort, we may eliminate the prejudice that separates our societies to coexist together in harmony," one of Tenya's deepest wishes was to break the barriers between his and your kind. Although he had not intended to feel affection for you, he did. Yet, he looked at it as the first step to uniting your kind as he dreamed.

Neito, unfortunately, was out of blood and sought to get it fresh from an unsuspecting human. That human happened to be you and he was only attracted to you because of the intoxicating scent of your blood. However, he quickly found that you were not a frail human and stood your ground far more than he expected.

While some would be embarrassed, Neito remained his ignorant self after realizing you were quite the troublesome individual. "How dare you reject me! I am Neito Monoma, and I demand you provide me with your blood!" As far as you were concerned, underneath his vampiric nature was nothing more than a spoiled child and you were prepared to discipline him as needed.

He continued to stalk you, despite finding alternative blood donors because as much as he hated to admit it, he found you intriguing. For a human that is, and used his sharp wit accompanied by playful banter whenever you caught him in his stalking efforts. "Surely you didn't think I'd leave you alone, oh no my dear, quite the opposite. I do not stop until I get what I want and what I want is your blood," and your affection, but he kept that to himself.

Your opinion of him didn't change until you were attacked by another one of his kind. Your guard was down initially because you had mistaken them for Neito, and despite your skills, you were losing the fight until he showed up and saved you. He'd be damned if he let another taste your blood before he got the chance to.

You detested the idea of letting him finally drink from you but considering his courageous actions. You allowed him the opportunity and found that he was surprisingly gentle when feeding from you. "Surely you didn't compare me to such monsters as that rouge one who attempted to take what is mine, how insulting. I pride myself in presentation and manners," he stated, acting just a touch too offended.

Despite not letting many people in, the two of you continued to spend time together, and Neito began to reveal his past. How he came from a high-class family, their rather…unbelievable expectations of him, and how he wishes to break free and prove his own worth to the world. Of course, that was a challenge given the current state of discrimination toward his kind, but he was still determined to do whatever he could to make his dream come true.

He finds himself feeling peaceful when in your presence and this was new to him and something that gave him a sense of belonging. It was almost as if being in your presence kept his demons at bay and he partially wondered if you wore any protection symbols or amulets on your person.

On occasion, Neito would still struggle with the affection he felt for you and his nature. Vampires were strong, drank blood, and didn't hesitate to do what they wanted to obtain said blood. But even though he knew you would allow him to drink from you. He found that he didn't want to cause you any harm and thus the conflict continued but he kept this a secret from you.

Eventually, Neito agreed to allow you to meet his family. Although it was immediately apparent, they detested you merely because you were human and spoke ill of Neito for befriending and furthermore feeling the way he did toward you. "Humans are meant to be our food source, nothing more," they said which caused Neito to argue with them before ultimately dragging you out the door.

Despite your unusual relationship, Neito viewed it as fulfilling his commitment to protect and cherish you for as long as you lived, and from what he understood, that was for a short time. He planned to propose to turn you but decided to wait to bring that up. For now, he'd enjoy your company.

[poppadom0912]

Together (IX)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, kidnappings, shootings, swearing and scary men.

Summary: They're finally together and nothing's getting in the way... maybe.

A/N: So this is the second final chapter before the epilogue. This has been so much fun to write you don't understand. This is like my baby that I've had since January and I'm so proud. You guys have shown so much love for it that it makes me upset it's all coming to an end. So I hope you enjoy and cherish the last two chapters of this series!!

I'm not a professional so ignore any medical inaccuracies. Also, for my sake, let's pretend that all these characters are still here because I can't be asked to remember who left and what season is which. Everyone's just going to exist happily together ;))

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

The gunshots reverberated through the warehouse, despite being cut off from the outside world it sounded like a battlefield where thousands of bullets were being shot when in reality it was probably under thirty people shooting back and forth at each other.

You’d been awake for a while now, your body curling around Will’s as both of you shivered. He tried talking, telling you stories that you somehow never heard before but talking became too hard at one point and his pain doubled resulting in staying in silence.

The silence made it easy to get lost in thought, getting carried away in the thought that maybe this was it. It daunted on you that no matter how hard you fought, how hard your brothers fought, none of it was enough at the end of the day because look at where the three of you ended up.

Half an hour later, Will was dragging you and himself towards the door as soon as the gunshots went off. He murmured how when the door was eventually opened, you’d be hidden behind the door and it’d taken just a few seconds longer to be found, giving Will hopefully some time to come up with a very last-minute plan.

Holding in your breath, you waited anxiously on the floor with Will crouched besides you, pain evident on his face from the new uncomfortable position. Just as you were going to tell him to sit down, footsteps could be heard stomping downstairs and across the corridors.

You and Will shared a glance, worry written boldly on both your faces. This was probably it and that thought of this being the end made the pit in your stomach grow. All this pain and suffering only ending in death, it was kinda pathetic. You prayed Jay mourned healthily, prayed Kelly wouldn’t lose himself and moved on, prayed that everything stuck together, and no one let this tear them apart.  

Will gripped your hand as tightly as he could, his body shielding yours as best he could because if this was it, then he was going to go down protecting you and putting up some sort of a fight. You squeezed his hand back as tight as you could, expressing words that you were too scared to say in the silence that was interrupted by stomping feet and shattering bullets.  

With a watery smile, you squeezed Will’s hand one more time for good measure, maintaining eye contact for just a little longer, having a silent conversation where you both said everything necessary with simply your eyes; eyes that you shared with Jay and eyes that he shared with your dad. Merely the thought of it made a tear slip from where you were pushing it back.  

Will softly smiled back at you, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles comfortingly. This minute of silence shared between you two wasn’t enough, you wanted, scratch that you needed more time.  

The sound of struggle was the next thing you heard; someone was trying to get into the locked room. The sudden banging overtook your thundering heart that was already having a tough time. 

The door burst open; it happened so fast that it hit Will’s back whose face scrunched up in pain. You squeezed his hand tighter to hopefully offer him some comfort, but he only adjusted his position so that his crouched body was fully covering yours from outside eyes.  

“Please, please don’t touch her.” Will begged, urgency dripping as it heavily coated his words. He would rather they did all the damage on him than you, you’d been hurt enough, and he could handle a little more violence. You argued he couldn’t since he was barely stable while on the ground. If he wasn’t being so hypervigilant and took the time, he’d realise he was worse off than he thought.  

“Thank fuck.”  

That didn’t sound like Jackson or Ezra, neither did it sound like any of their bulky lackeys.  

You slowly peeled your eyes open, watching as Will froze from shock. All the oxygen left his body as he lay eyes, finally, on Jay.  

“Shit, what the hell did they do?!” The fear and anger mixed as Jay took in the sight of his siblings. To see them again took off all the weight on his shoulders, relief replacing it but soon it was gone because you and Will looked worse than he could’ve ever anticipated.

“Help me up Jay.” Will ignored Jay’s question and instead held out his hand. Jay complied easily, pulling Will up onto his feet but as soon as he stood, he crumbled back onto the floor.  

“Shit okay, never mind.” Will groaned, eyes screwed shut as he caught his breath, arm protecting his abdomen. “Leave me for now, you gotta carry Y/N, there’s no way she can walk.”  

“Dude, neither can you or are you also blind now?” Jay scoffed; his eyes wide in bewilderment at his older brother's insistence. “Kevin’s down the hall, he can help.”  

You and Will hummed in reply, neither of you having the energy to properly reply. You felt bad because you barely did anything while Will did all he could and more despite being incapacitated.  

“Seeing your ugly mugs makes me want to cry.” Jay said, a smile appearing on his scabbed lips as he looked down at the two of you. There were no lies in his words, relief flooded his body at the simply seeing his siblings even if they were injured beyond human capabilities but being separated for so long, it did things to men.  

“Come on Halstead’s, let’s get you outta here.” Kevin said, suddenly appearing from out of nowhere, making you and Will jump in fright. It would’ve been funny had your responses not been a result of the trauma you just experienced.  

Jay scooped you into his arms, expletives spilling from your lips from your body being jostled around. His whispered apologies and tried comforting you, trying his best to quell your pain with just his words but it could only do so much. Behind you was Kevin holding Will around his waist, the pair being much slower as Will struggled mightily on his feet, but Kevin was a godsend, being the most patient and kind person as he supported Will.  

The bright afternoon sun blinded you as your finally entered the outside world, being met with fresh air, natural lighting and the company of people who had pure intentions of helping. You briefly saw members of intelligence surrounding you, acting as a shield as they guided Jay towards the ambulance waiting.  

The familiar faces of your favourite paramedics soon came into view causing a smile to break out on yours. As soon as you approached the ambo, Jay gently lay you on the awaiting stretcher and stood back, letting the professionals do their job while keeping watch.  

“Oh Y/N.” Sylvie said sombrely, gingerly pushing your hair back before connecting to a bunch of wires that you couldn’t remember what their purposes were. “We’ve got you, you’re going to be just fine, okay?” 

The question was rhetorical, but you still nodded drowsily in reply. You were aware of the two pairs of hands working on you, Violet and Sylvie were very likely panicking on the inside from the state you were in, but their concern took over. They could panic later once you were properly treated.  

From the corner of your eyes, you could see a new group gathering around the ambo and you could hear voices rising, getting louder the closer they got to 61. If you had it in you, you would’ve looked for the source, but Sylvie reassured you that everything was being handled.  

Violets hands suddenly disappeared as she suddenly exited the ambo, rushing with things in her hands. It took a while for you to understand why, your brain all muddled up, but it only now registered that Will was behind you with Kevin.  

“Will.” You mumbled, your voice scratching as your panic increased. “Will-” 

“Violet's with him.” Sylvie said, her undertone giving it away that she wasn’t confident deep down. “Another ambos on the way for him, don’t worry.” Yet, despite her own words, Sylvie didn’t believe in them. She saw Will for a brief millisecond when he appeared, the ruckus catching her attention, but he somehow looked worse than you under the blaring sun.  

Before you could insist on being told what was happening to him, the ambulance doors were suddenly being slammed shut as Violet drove with all lights and sirens.  

*****

Maggie couldn’t believe her eyes.  

It had been two days since the Halstead’s disappeared. Everyone was informed on day one about their disappearance and it was news that everyone found difficulty in swallowing.  

Everyone had been on edge for the 48 hours. While on shift, multiple people from intelligence and 51 made an appearance into the ED and their solemn faces were all identical. The tension was high, and it only got worse when Jay was randomly dumped outside of Med.  

Around an hour ago, Kim called in saying that Will and Y/N had finally been found and that they should be prepared for the worst. And so, Maggie did what she does best.  

61 Was the first to arrive with police escort, Hailey and Adam drove in front with Kim behind with Jay. They almost formed a protective circle as Sylvie exited along with Violet who helped pulling out the stretcher.

Laying eyes on you for the first time made the charge nurse sick. No matter how long she’d been working in the emergency department, nothing could ever make her get used to this.  

Sylvie relayed shakily what she knew about your condition, Crocket and Natalie listening intently with April’s assistance as they got to work as soon as they entered a trauma bay. Maggie stood with Ethan and Connor by her side, watching as chaos descended in the bay. The three of them were waiting for Will.  

“Jay, how about we finally get a good look at you, huh?” Ethan said, remembering what happened yesterday as he caught sight of the green-eyed detective at the back of the group who refused to look away from his baby sister.  

But the man in question looked like he’d seen a ghost.  

“Will’s not going to make it.” Jay stated, his voice strong and firm as he spoke. He looked away from where you were being treated and looked at everyone almost robotically. “Will’s not making it.”  

Before anyone could say anything, the bay doors were opened and everyone flooded out, pushing the gurney towards the elevator. Crocket stayed back from the rest, slowly walking backwards as he explained, “We’re taking her into surgery, but all things considered, she’s looking okay.” 

And with that, the surgeon was speeding off to basically save your life.  

“How about we look at you Jay? You promised me, remember?” Ethan asked rhetorically, guiding the stoic man towards a different, cleaner trauma bay so that he could properly treat him, giving him everything he desperately needed yesterday.  

“I don’t have Will.” Jay retorted but followed the doctor anyways.  

Maggie and Connor watched the two men enter another bay before all they could hear was the sounds of the bustling yet peaceful ED. They didn’t know what to make of Jay’s words, but the man seemed hopeless and on the verge of breaking down. He looked awfully similar to the time when his dad died.  

They turned to the paramedics and the three members of intelligence but the look on their faces told them everything they needed to know.  

*****

Jay finally broke down when he was left alone, your sleeping body being the only thing present in the room with him.  

Crocket fully led Jay through every procedure that they did, explaining what they did during the surgery and what exactly your injuries were. Usually, that was Will’s job, but Jay tried not to think about that when the surgeon gently spoke to him.  

You had several broken ribs, some even fractured, and it’d been very very close to puncturing your lungs - it was apparently surprising you didn’t have a pneumothorax. You had quite the concussion, multiple lacerations that were both superficial and that needed surgical fixing. There also had been some damage to your spleen that was repaired, a fractured left hand and an out of place bone in your foot. 

Overall, everyone had been expecting much worse, but they did explain to Jay that recovering would be the worst part of all of this. They weren’t sure about neurological damage nor how bad your vocal damage was. Once you woke up, there was plenty of testing to be done.  

Seeing you alive and breathing, even while connected to a bunch of tubes and wires, Jay felt relief but oh so overwhelmed at the same time. So much happened in the last two days and now that he finally was left alone with his thoughts and feelings, the sounds of beeping machines and you sleeping painlessly, everything came crashing down on him.  

It properly dawned on him that the three of you had been kidnapped, you’d been hurt and hurt time after time. He was left to fight and get you back home and he’d been so close. For a while, Jay thought everything was done and he did it but then, but then Will happened.  

Jay harshly wiped away the tears on his cheek, his eyes catching sight of his bandaged knuckles and the IV in his left hand that he was itching to remove but then a voice sounding like Will warned him against doing so.  

Ethan did an x-ray on him, stitching his bullet wound and thoroughly wrapping it. He plucked several butterfly stripes and many cotton swabs to get rid of any and all blood stains. All in all, Jay would be off work for a few weeks, maybe some physio depending on how his leg felt but he was in pretty decent shape given the circumstances.

Jay bitterly laughed, shaking his head at the thought that he was expecting to have a full recovering with barely any long-lasting damage. He hated to admit it aloud, but this was going to stay with him forever, there was no way he was ever going to get rid of your gut-wrenching screams, they were forever engraved into his mind.  

And well, if Jay didn’t see Will at least arrive at Med, then nothing was ever going to be the same again.  

And so, what if Jay cried himself to sleep in the chair at his sister's bedside, at perhaps his only sibling's side.  

Jay drowned out his thoughts as he sobbed, hand curling around his mouth to muffle his cries as not to alert anyone of his emotional state. But, when Maggie walks in later to find the two younger Halstead’s gone to the world, she pretends not to see the tear tracks staining Jay’s cheeks.  

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e @lanea-1 @swidkid

[sc0tters]

Heartless | Sidney Crosby

summary: when you finally arrive back to the rink you once called home, the last thing you expect is that the now legend from PIT forgets who he was once to you.

dreamer: chapter one

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.38k

authors note: I know how long some of you’ve been waiting for this series so I want to thank you! This was a bit of a weird chapter but it was just so we could set the ground for the rest of the work to come in later. I truly cannot wait to show you all where this one is going to go!

Today was the start of something new.

Or at least that was what you told yourself as you stood in the cool breeze that whirled around the city of Pittsburgh. Everything had gone your way today and the universe was clearly on your side.

You had woken up early, gotten an A on a paper you just got back, your Amazon delivery had arrived early. And most importantly your favourite coffee shop was still open letting you get something to eat before you were meant to be at the rink “watch where you’re going jackass!” You yelled as a car drove you off the road.

It was a pretty black land rover who only responded with the hit of the horn causing your brows to furrow “what a dick.” You scoffed watching the car speed off.

Now your coffee was soaking into the tar of the road as your croissant was being eaten by pigeons that had found you. So much for it being a good day, I guess.

Everything in your Arsenal that you could try to do to calm down as you wanted to have a clear mind for your first day “not everything is going to go your way.” Marc-André reminded you as he stared at you.

Despite having three children under the age of ten, you were still his baby just like the rest of your siblings “yeah but dad-” you whined parking your car as you looked at the PPG Arena “you know I’m being honest kid.” He mumbled knowing that he should have been in Pittsburgh as you started the season.

It made you roll you eyes “where is mom when you need some moral support?” You complained shutting the car door behind you as you stared up at the sky.

The grey sky seemed comforting as you heard the rough clouds come together as thunder claps roared over the city “she is with your sister but she’d also want you to just breathe.” His voice was clear making you roll your eyes “I hate it when you’re right.” You grumbled as a small smile formed on your lips.

Even with your rough exterior your father knew how to break you down in an attempt to get you to the soft state that had him wrapped around your finger “no you don’t.” Marc-André laughed as he shook his head “now go make me proud and play nice.” His words made you grin as you raked your fingers through your hair.

Pictures of the younger version of your father were up on the walls as you saw some of your favourite people from when you were a child growing up “I should get going dad.” You looked at your watch fearing that you were going to be late.

With that he snapped his fingers before he sent you a salute as you did the same thing “love you kid.” You pressed your fingers to your lips as the line ended.

You took a moment to study the welcome area and all of the trophies that the Penguins had won “I didn’t know we let fans in here today.” A voice came from behind you that causing you to spin on your feet.

Kris held a friendly face as you turned to a panic “I’m so sorry!” You blurted out as your cheeks reddened “I am actually the new intern for the physios office and uh-” you trailed off going quiet when the slap of his hand to his mouth cut you off.

It wasn’t often that Kris was left shocked “sparky you’ve gotten so big!” His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you into a hug.

Sparky was the title you picked up as a kid due to the fact that once when nobody on the team could get you to stop crying. Until your Sidney shocked himself plugging his phone charger into the wall.

Your reaction had most of the guys laughing as Sidney had to recreate his response to it in order to make sure you stayed smiling. Then it stuck after your dad dressed you up as a lightbulb for Halloween that year.

You smiled as he dropped his hands to his sides trying to comprehend that you were old enough to be working “I’ve gotten an internship here with the physio team.” You explained ignoring his crazy you felt admitting to the fact that you were actually there and this was no longer a note on your vision board.

Kris felt like a proud parent “always thought you’d land up somewhere like that.” The physios from when your dad was at the team used to entertain you when you came with him to work when your mom was busy with college work.

His words made your heart throb “enough about me, how are you-” before you could even get your words out the sound of a door slamming cut you both off.

Spinning around a smile formed on your face as you locked eyes with Sidney Crosby. You were like ever other child who was practically in awe of him, you were one of the lucky few who got to grow up with him so that made him all that much cooler to you “surprised to see you got here before you got knocked by another car.” His words made your face drop as your eyes went wide “excuse me?” You sucked at your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him.

Sidney hadn’t even acknowledged that Kris was around yet “you couldn’t even use your eyes to see that I was driving.” That comment made you gasp as pieces began to click in your mind “you’re jackass!” You gasped feeling your jaw go slack “sorry could like someone maybe catch me up?” Kris pleaded as he grew confused.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to turn your glares at him “someone is just an entitled-” he was cut off as doctor McLane walked into the area joining the three of you “I’m so happy to se you’ve made it!” She clasped her hands together as she saw you.

Melissa turned her attention to the two players “I’m glad to see you’ve met the new physio intern y/n F-” before she could finish introducing her you had to interrupt “just y/n will do.” You smiled sending her a nod.

Before you had the chance to continue the argument with Sidney you were knocked off of your feet as he pushed past you to get to the locker room “I promise the rest of the guys will be easier than that.” Kris sent you a smile as he helped you back up. If only he really knew how awful that day would get.

Sidney couldn’t believe that luck had been so against him today as you had to show up at work today, the one place he truly thought that he could get away from young people who thought they knew more than they did.

But not even how much you had pissed him off could have stopped him from smiling as he accepted that FaceTime call from Marc-André “you will not believe the day I’ve had.” Sidney sighed as he sunk into his seat “hope y/n didn’t have too much to do with that.” Your father teased as you used to run laps around Sidney when you went through the phases of having Sidney as your favourite penguin.

It made Sidney stop in his tracks though as the question weighed on his mind “how do you know about her?” The words left his lips quicker than he could have thought about it “did you forget the part where I fathered her?” The older boy laughed as he spoke in a duh tone.

If you had known about the way that the colour drained from Sidney’s face you honestly would have been upset that you hadn’t been there to see it in person “do you seriously not remember how I told you that y/n was going to be the new intern for the physios.” Marc-André couldn’t see Sidney’s response as he dropped his phone.

This meant that not only was Sidney going to have to put up with you, it also meant that he was going to have to act like he liked it too.

[mint-yooxgi]

Written in the Stars - Yandere!Idol!Yeosang X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Soft Yandere AU & Idol AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor, Slow Burn

Pairing: Yeosang X Reader (ft. platonic Ateez ensemble)

Words: 11,875

Warnings: Slow burn. This story is going to be very self indulgent on my part, so please bear with the first few chapters. Jongho is an over excited fanboy. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, I decided to just say 'fuck it' and post it anyways! I got too excited and just had to share, so I really hope you all enjoy what I have planned. I have SO much already for this series, and like I said in the warning, it's definitely going to be quite self-indulgent on my part but it IS based off my own dream, so... anyways, as always feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist

A low exhale escapes you through your nose as you stand in line waiting to board the plane. Absentmindedly, your thumb brushes over the front of your passport, your boarding pass tucked neatly inside. 

Shifting your weight onto your opposite foot, you adjust the straps of your backpack slung over your shoulders. Despite your best efforts to pack light, the heaviness weighs you down, feeling the corner of your laptop harshly digging into your shoulder blade. Perhaps you should have packed a few more of your books into your checked luggage after all. 

It’s not every day that you get to move to South Korea for approximately a year or more, depending on how well writing your next book goes. The decision had been meticulously planned out, seeing as your publisher has arranged a fairly large book signing in the heart of Seoul a few weeks from now. 

To say you were pleasantly surprised to learn how well your books are doing in South Korea is an understatement. You were more than happy to agree to it, especially when you have also been personally invited to perform a new piece of writing at one of the many award shows this season. It seems the organizers really appreciate your way with words, and want you to compose a short poem of sorts to encompass the emotions and influence different types of art has around the world.

It seems as if you’ve become a somewhat popular international author within the country, and you are more than happy to attend any and all events they ask you to. Subsequently, the offers were too good to refuse, and you’ve always wanted to move to Seoul for a few years. At least now you have a good reason to stay.

It has taken you years to get to where you are now, but being a well established international author has truly been everything you could have ever asked for. Writing has always been your passion, and you’re just glad that you can share it with the world. With a little extra on the side, of course.

Slowly, the line begins to move in front of you, and you blink to regain your focus. It looks as if they’re finally boarding for zone two, and you honestly just can’t wait to get settled in your seat and sleep. You’re hoping to at least catch a few hours before you attempt to work on a bit of your next book. The idea you’ve been mapping out is a big one, and you’re hoping the words flow just as easily for this one as all of the previous novels you’ve written.

The length of the flight has yet to be determined if it’s your enemy or ally.

Maybe you’ll just watch a few movies instead…

As more and more people advance, you can feel those familiar jitters of excitement coursing through your veins. Every time you visit another place, but especially when it relates to your writing, you cannot hide your eagerness. The adventures you can have are endless, and you honestly cannot wait to see a few of your friends again. Some, you’ll even be meeting for the first time. Well, if their schedules allow.

When you had arrived at the airport, getting through security after checking in had been a little heinous. 

First of all, you had a few too many bags, but since you’ll be moving to a completely new country, you need almost all of your things to take with you. Plus, you don’t want your new home to be too empty. You’re just grateful your mother will be sending along a few care packages with some of your bulkier items, like your favourite blankets and a few of your trinkets once you’ve gotten settled in.

Then, came security.

There seemed to be a rumour floating around that some celebrity or something was supposed to be on this same exact flight. A few overheard hushed whispers, and you determined the celebrities to be some Korean pop group. Though, you doubt that’s the case. Despite not really paying attention to the other passengers, you haven’t exactly seen any idols around.

Needless to say, security took longer with all the fans trying to sneak through.

At least you still made it to the gate with plenty of time to spare. You even had some free moments to browse the airport bookstore, noticing a small display of your own books near the front table. The way the workers had stacked your newest release in a mini-pyramid of sorts still makes you smile. The fact that you signed a few of the copies had made the workers’ day, taking a few photos with one of the girls who happened to be a big fan of your work.

Looking back on it now, you cannot help but to grin to yourself as you begin to make your way onto the plane. The worker who scanned your ticket seemed to look on you in awe, brief understanding lighting up their eyes after handing you your passport back. They probably recognized your name, if anything. The fact that you nodded back to them in acknowledgment seemingly made their day.

Truly, this is a dream come true.

Stepping onto the plane, you’re quick to find your seat. You made sure to pick the window of the very last row in premium, as you’ve always enjoyed watching the scenery as you fly. Take off and landings are your favourite parts. Plus, with no one behind you, you can recline without worry or fear that you’re infringing on someone’s personal space.

Luckily, it doesn’t appear that your seat partner has arrived yet, and for that, you’re grateful. Honestly, you hope no one actually sits beside you just so you can have a bit more space to yourself. Plus, it’ll make you more comfortable if you decide to actually get some writing done on the plane. 

You’ve always had a sense of paranoia about writing around strangers, given how often people like to snoop. The last thing you want is to be writing some steamy scene, or something completely gruesome, and offend the person you’re sitting beside. Though, you mainly only get that feeling when writing on your laptop.

Sliding your overstuffed bag beneath the seat in front of you, you settle into your own. Your purse gets shoved to the side beside your feet as you unceremoniously kick your backpack as far beneath the seat as it will go.

The joys of premium economy: much needed leg room, and better seating. Though, you can just hear your publisher’s voice in the back of your head, chastising you for not buying business class.

You huff lightly to yourself as you click your seatbelt on. Like hell you’re going to pay something ridiculous, like four grand, in order to have your own private podlike seat. That’s way too much for a one way ticket, and besides, premium is just fine. You’ve been lucky enough to fly it before, anyways.

Settling fully into your seat, you pull out your phone. Unlocking the device, you shoot a quick text to your family letting them know that you’ve just boarded the plane and are waiting for take off.

Of course, they reply quickly, telling you to have a safe flight and that they’ll miss you greatly. Most of all, though, to have fun on your new adventures.

A soft smile paints your features as you tell them that you’ll message them once you land, and if there’s time, phone once you make it to your new apartment. As soon as you see their response in confirmation, you’re turning your phone on airplane mode and grabbing your headphones out of your purse.

Movement from your left catches your attention, and you see a few people settling into the seats near you. You take a moment to assess your new seat buddy before turning back to your phone, plugging in your earbuds without another thought.

Looks like you’ll be sitting next to a guy for the entire flight. Not that you mind, but the last guy you sat beside on a long flight like this tried to talk your ear off about politics and how ‘kids these days don’t have the same respect they used to.’

The worst part? The man didn’t look that much older than you.

Oh well, it could have been worse. It could have also been like that one time you sat beside a lady who told you everything wrong with your first book, and what she would have done to fix it and make it better.

Holding your earbuds in one hand, you scroll through your playlist, searching for a song you want to listen to before putting them in.

From beside you, you can hear some hushed whispering in Korean, each voice distinctly male. The words ‘writer’ and ‘newest book’ catch your attention in-between the bustle of the other passengers boarding the plane, and you nearly let out a sigh.

Just as you go to place your buds in your ears, you hear a gentle voice pull you out of your thoughts.

“Excuse me?” The words are low, cautious, as if he’s unsure of himself. Surprisingly, they’re in English.

Lifting your head, you shift your gaze to the side. The way your eyes blink in mild surprise, caught immediately off guard by who you see sitting beside you, is apparent. Ever so slightly, your breath hitches in your throat.

“Are you…” he trails off, brow furrowing as if he’s searching for the right word in English.

Out of the corner of your vision, you see a face peering out across the aisle from the row in front of you. His hands grip the seat firmly as he angles his body towards both you and the male beside you. Though, from the way his face keeps being blocked by more passengers boarding the plane, what he attempts to whisper to his friend goes unnoticed. At least, by the unsuspecting male. However, at the way you can hear the word ‘author’ lightly cut through the crowd, you grin softly.

“It’s alright, I can speak Korean.” You reply casually.

The way you see the male visibly freeze in his spot, body seemingly relaxing immediately after has you chuckling slightly.

“You do?” The surprise is clear on his features, but he’s quick to hide it in the next second.

“Not very well, but sufficiently enough.” You say. “My Japanese is better.”

You can see the way his brow twitches slightly in acknowledgement, that same look of surprise shining within his gaze.

“Anyways, my friend would like to know if you’re actually the author that wrote this book.” He says, lifting the object slightly in his hand.

An object of which you didn’t even notice before, too wrapped up in your own little world.

Sparing a glance at the book, a soft smile graces your features. For there, resting in his hands, resides a copy of your latest novel from the airport bookstore.

“I am.” You confirm with a small nod.

The male turns back to his left, seemingly having a silent conversation with his friend across the aisle. From his body language alone, you can tell that your seat buddy is slightly exasperated. Especially when his friend looks about ready to lunge across the aisle after the one sitting beside you asks him very lowly if he has to.

The announcement for final boarding call is heard over the speakers, the cabin crew now moving to secure the plane for take off.

You can only quirk a brow in amusement as your seat buddy heaves a tremendous sigh before turning back to face you.

That’s when you notice two more heads popping up over the seats in the middle section, one row in front of you. One sports bright, flaming red locks, while the other has a head full of black hair. They not so subtly peer over the back of their seats, looking in your direction as the one sitting right next to the aisle with bleached locks still has his eyes locked on you.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you; you probably get this a lot,” he sighs, and you can literally feel the death glare the male directly across the aisle from him is sending his way. “But do you think you could sign this for him?”

The plane begins to move. Briefly, you hear a flight attendant tell the three males in the row in front of you that they need to sit properly in order to prepare for take off.

Your brow quirks. “I thought I already did.”

This causes the male across the aisle to practically fall out of his seat as he reaches across to tear the book out of your seat buddy’s hands. You notice that he practically shreds through the front page in order to flip through to where your signature practically shines back up at him.

You notice a vibrant red beginning to creep up his neck as you chuckle lightly.

“I can still add a personalize message, if you’d like?” You lean forward slightly, looking directly past the male sitting beside you.

The way you visibly see the male perk up, practically throwing the book back at the one sitting beside you has a large grin pulling at your features. You can feel your own face heating from this interaction, heart pounding in your chest.

“Flight crew, prepare for take off.” The captains voice is heard over the intercom, and you realize you missed the entire safety demonstration. Not that you haven’t seen it all before.

“That would be great,” the male sitting beside you says, seeing as the other one seems too excited to speak for the moment. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you smile, reaching down to grab a pen from your bag.

“Excuse me, Miss,” the soft voice of a flight attendant draws your attention to the aisle beside you. “Please remain in an upright position until the plane has left the tarmac.”

“Right, sorry,” you smile sheepishly, a nod to your head.

Turning back to the males beside you once the flight attendant walks away, you pat the cover lightly.

“I’ll sign this as soon as we’re in the air, okay?”Your voice is sweet, holding the book lightly in your lap.

“Thanks again,” the male beside you nods.

“Of course,” you repeat. “It’s not everyday an idol from one of your favourite groups asks you to sign something for them.”

Four heads whip in your direction: the male sitting beside you, the two directly across the aisle from you, and the one who had been turning around to face you one row up. The surprise is clear on their features, and you’d bet anything that the two you saw peeking over their seats earlier would be doing the exact same thing once again if they could.

“You know who we are?” The one from directly across the aisle sounds completely awestruck. “You know who I am?”

“Yes, I do,” you nod gently in his direction, a small grin tugging at your lips. “Choi Jongho from Ateez.”

You swear that this man is about to faint from how red his face goes.

“Right now, though, you’re all just some guys on a plane,” you say. “And we all just so happen to be heading to the same destination.”

A slight whine from the row in front of them draws your attention.

“Joong, tell Yunho to stop kicking the back of my seat!” With the familiar intonation, you can just tell that it’s Wooyoung.

“Well, then stop hopping around.” Said male turns briefly towards his opposite side before turning back to continue observing this interaction between you and the other members.

You huff out a laugh, feeling as the plane begins to accelerate for take off. A moment later, and that familiar sense of weightlessness takes over, signifying you’ve left the ground.

“So, you’re a fan, then.” A statement, rather than a question comes from the man sitting beside you.

“For my part,” you hum, a tender smile pulling at your lips. “I saw you guys in concert a few years ago when you came to my city. You’re all incredible performers.”

You notice all four of them that are still looking at you become a little bashful at your words. Mutters of gratitude escape their lips as they bow their heads in your direction, and you are once again reminded of just how humble this group is.

“Then, you know who all of us are.” Again, another statement leaves the male beside you as he observes you with curious eyes.

“I do indeed know who you are, Kang Yeosang of Ateez.” You repeat your little phrase from earlier. A moment later, you shrug. “It’s like I said, though, right now you’re just some guy.”

A ding sounds, indicating the seatbelt sign going off once you’ve reached altitude. As soon as you hear it, realization flashes across your features, and you lean forward to grab a pen out of your bag.

“So, did you want me to address this to you, or is there a specific nickname you’d like me to use?”You direct your question towards the youngest member sitting across the aisle from you.

“Uh…” Jongho blinks, shifting forward slightly as he undoes his seatbelt. “Nickname?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Sometimes people like me signing a term of endearment from one of my books in front of their name, or even instead of their name. I can do that, or something else. Just nothing weird, like ‘Daddy’, or anything like that.”

A head pops up over the seat in front of you. “Someone’s asked you to sign a book for them addressed to ‘Daddy’?”

“Oh, hello, Song Mingi from Ateez.” You blink in mild surprise.

“Hello.” A subtle nod and an immediate look of meekness crosses his features. Almost as if he couldn’t help but pop up and join in on this conversation with you.

“I thought we were all just some guys to you right now?” Yunho quirks a brow at you from down the row.

“Listen, this is the only way I know how to-“ you search for the right word, looking up at the ceiling of the cabin all the while. A slight tilt of your head in realization is the only sign they get that you’ve thought of the word, “dispel my excitement for the moment. I’m pretty sure my heart is about to burst from how furiously it’s racing right now.”

You see Seonghwa poke his head around the edge of his seat to look at you. Only, you see him flinch in the next second, slowly shifting so he’s now peering over the top of his seat just as Mingi does.

Looks like Hongjoong didn’t like the fact that his sight was being blocked.

“I think the feeling is mutual,” at the way you see Yeosang motion towards Jongho with his head, you crack a grin.

“So,” you catch the last dregs of the glare Jongho sends Yeosang’s way before the youngest is meeting your gaze once more. “Nickname?”

Knowing grins tug at a few of the male’s faces around you, Yunho nudging Jongho teasingly in his side.

Again, the youngest shoots a pointed look at the male on his opposite side before turning to look at you. Red begins to creep up his neck as he averts his gaze to the floor before continuously flicking it up to meet your own.

“I’ve always liked ‘Darling’,” he admits, and you notice how Yunho nudges him teasingly while more of the guys shoot him knowing grins.

This time, it’s your turn for your cheeks to heat as you hum. “How fitting.”

Flipping open to the page with your signature, you twirl the pen in your fingers once. A moment later, and you’re scribbling out a message.

To My Darling Jongho,

The stars look up to you. Keep shining!

Signing it off with a ‘Your Fan’, you’re quick to add your name. However, before you hand it back to him, you add a little note at the bottom.

P.S. You have a lovely voice.

Adding a small smiley face, you’re quick to cap your pen and shut the front cover.

The moment you hand the book to Yeosang to pass back to Jongho, you notice a few of the other members sliding back into their seats. The youngest eagerly snatches the book back from the elder, opening to the page with your signature on it without a second of hesitation. The way you see him visibly shake in excitement, a large smile stretching onto his features warms your heart.

There’s a part of you that really wants to ask him about his favourite characters, and what he’s thought about your books, but you hold off for now. You wouldn’t exactly start a conversation with him otherwise, and you don’t want to bother him too much. Besides, he seems far too content to pull out the Korean translation of your previous book from his bag shortly afterwards.

Figuring he wants to read, you turn back to face the seat in front of you. Leaning down, you go to put your pen away, kicking your bag lightly back beneath the seat.

“Yeosang,” you hear a harsh whisper from your left. “Switch seats with me.”

A moment of silence where you notice the aforementioned male shoot a disinterested look towards Jongho. 

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Jongho practically seethes, a frown tugging at his features. “I swear to god, Yeosang, I will split you in half like an apple.”

“Yes, I’m sure your favourite author would love to sit beside a man who just threatened to snap me like a twig.” Yeosang deadpans, reclining his seat back as far as it will go.

You’re about to make a comment on the situation, torn between jokingly saying that that’s actually kind of hot, or telling them that you don’t mind at all, when a voice draws your attention from in front of you.

“So,” it’s Seonghwa, peeking over the top of his seat once more. His hands grip the headrest, and you cannot see his mouth, but the way his wide eyes shine as they look towards you nearly makes you swoon. “Who’s your bias?”

You notice that this catches all of the member’s attention, and you suddenly sink back into the seat you’re in. That is, until you quirk your brow, a teasing grin causing the corners of your lips to twitch upwards.

“My ult?” You tilt your head. “I think I’m very explicit about it being Lee Taemin.”

You can visibly see the way his shoulders deflate at your words, and you briefly look around at all of the males that now seem to be peering at you from over their seats.

“No,” Seonghwa practically whines. “Of the group!”

“Which group?” The expression you wear is nothing short of amused as you see Seonghwa begin to pout before you.

If someone had told you that you’d be making the Park Seonghwa from Ateez pout because you wouldn’t tell him your bias from his group, you would have laughed in their face. Even more so when you notice Hongjoong staring at you with a mildly pointed look in your direction. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear that he’s almost daring you to say that it’s anyone else but him.

“Our group, of course!” He frowns, leaning the slightest bit forward to rest his chin on top of his hands as he watches you carefully.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice San lean into Wooyoung from a row ahead.

“Has she answered her bias yet?” The male not so subtly whispers to the younger.

“Shh, not yet.” Wooyoung hisses back. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“Who’s your bias in Ateez?” Mingi is the one to ask you this time, and you shift your attention to him for the moment.

Again, your cheeks flare with heat.

“Now, isn’t that the million dollar question?” You breathe, letting out a chuckle as you grab your phone in your hand once more. “Nah, sorry boys. If you want that answer out of me, you at least have to buy me a drink first.”

“Is your bias your lockscreen?” Jongho asks, an eager gleam in his eyes as the males closest to you now divert their gazes to your phone held in your hand.

“My lockscreen definitely takes priority,” you grin knowingly, and you watch them all eagerly lean in to catch a glimpse of the photo. “Since I won’t have wifi for such a long time, I always change it to a list of things I should probably get done on the plane."

Clicking the side button reveals said list on your screen.

A collective sigh of defeat is heard from the males around you as you chuckle. Only, in the next moment, your brow furrows.

“Wait, how do you know I usually keep one of my biases as my lockscreen?” You turn towards Jongho.

“Lucky guess?” He shrugs, another blush creeping up his neck.

“He started screaming about it during one of your lives once someone translated your remark.” Yeosang casually states, shifting slightly in his seat to get more comfortable as he settles in for a nap.

You swear that were it not for the way another passenger walks by to use the restroom, Jongho would have lunged at the male sitting beside you.

Still, you cannot help the way your eyes shine in awe. “You watch my lives?”

Jongho avoids your gaze, fumbling over his words for the moment. His hands nervously toy with the pages of the book in his lap, and you nearly coo at how bashful he suddenly looks.

“When he can.” Yunho supplies for him with a soft smile. “Sometimes Hongjoong and I watch, too. It helps when Joong can translate some of the things you say.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest at the implication, and you cannot keep the hopefulness out of your voice. “You guys have read my books, too?”

“Even if it weren’t for Jongho ranting and raving over your writing, our other friends are pretty persistent.” Hongjoong replies, a soft smile pulling at his features. “You’re very popular back home.”

“Yeah, Changbin told me that Felix recommended him this book, so he just had to tell me about it.” Wooyoung supplies.

“Members of Stray Kids have also read my novels?” You say, though with how lowly you whisper it, it’s more to yourself in awe.

“I know! I was surprised, since Bin will barely even look at books half the time,” Wooyoung laughs, eyes crinkling in joy.

“You’d be surprised by how many of us read your novels.” Yunho hums, settling back in his own seat for the moment.

“Wow,” you breathe. “Honestly, it’s something I always think about, but I still never expect it. The only idol I know for sure that reads my books is Mark Lee of NCT.”

“Oh, yeah, we didn’t hear the end of that for weeks,” San calls out over his chair, shooting a look towards Jongho.

“‘Why can’t we get personalized signed copies of her books?’” Wooyoung imitates the youngest, nearly getting shoved out of his chair in response.

“I’d send her a full on review along with our albums if she gave me a chance,” Hongjoong laughs, receiving a harsh kick from Jongho to the back of his seat.

“Remember the one time he said he’d serenade her?” Yunho supplies, a fond chuckle falling from his lips.

Jongho instantly wraps his one arm around Yunho’s throat, pulling the taller man into his side as the elder hunches over uncomfortably. “Want to die?”

You cannot help the way you laugh, eyes falling shut as you lean back in your seat. Your one hand rests over your chest as you catch your breath, blinking away your tears of joy shortly after. The scene is much too comical for you not to react, anyways.

The moment your vision clears, you notice Yeosang having turned to face you. He wears a somewhat neutral expression, but his eyes are soft, a hint of awe residing within.

You chalk it up to him just being tired.

“You really said you’d serenade me?” Your inquiry is tender, nothing but a sense of wonder pulling at your features as you lean forward to look his way.

Slowly, he releases the chokehold he has on Yunho, nodding lightly all the while.

“That’s honestly so sweet, oh my goodness,” your one hand comes up to cup the side of your face as you tilt your head to the side.

The way Jongho’s eyes begin to shine as he meets you gaze says it all.

A moment later, and your attention is being drawn to the male peering his head over his seat in front of you.

“You like anime, right?” Mingi has an eager look on his face, arms crossed over the back of his seat as he rests his chin on top of them.

“I do indeed!” You reply, an excited gleam sparking in your gaze.

“Uh-oh,” Hongjoong says. “This is going to take a while.”

“Shut up,” Mingi frowns, turning his suddenly harsh gaze towards Hongjoong for a moment before turning back to you with an eager grin. “Which one’s your favourite?”

“Definitely Jujutsu Kaisen, but Naruto will always hold a special place in my heart since I’ve loved it since childhood.” You reply. “Haikyuu will also forever be my comfort series.”

You see him nodding along to your every word.

“What about you?” You reply, blinking lightly up at him.

“I really love Demon Slayer,” he replies, a giddiness to his tone.

“Oh yeah, the animation for that series is beautiful,” you nod along to his words. “I also remember when Atiny’s went feral for your Rengoku hair. Now, that was a look.”

You swear the male nearly tumbles out of his seat as his lips part in awe. A subtle blush begins to tint his ears, as he smiles bashfully in your direction.

“Thank you,” his voice is soft. That is, until his sharp gaze is locking on the male sitting beside you. “Hey, Yeosang-“

Pointedly, the male turns away from you, pretending to be asleep.

“I don’t think any of us are going to get him to move any time soon,” Hongjoong chuckles. “Anyways, sorry for bothering you.”

“Not at all!” You shake your head, a kind smile tugging at your features. “Honestly, this has made my entire week.”

“Likewise,” Jongho breathes, and you turn your smile towards him.

“Oh, wait,” you lean forward, pulling out your backpack and riffling through it in the next minute. Once you have what you’re looking for in hand, your eyes are lighting up, pulling the item out of your bag quickly. “The translation isn’t due to drop for another month, but they sent me some early copies. I’d like you to have this one.”

Carefully, you reach over a somewhat asleep Yeosang to hand Jongho the book in your hands. You can see his own shaking as he grabs the novel from you, a look of complete awe on his features.

“Thank you,” he meets your gaze. “I’ve been waiting for this one to drop since you announced it. It’s why I bought the English version.”

“I do that, too, with a bunch of my manga. I think I have at least four copies of volume four of Jujutsu Kaisen just for the one panel alone.” You chuckle.

“Not the cover?” Mingi quirks a brow.

“Oh, god no.” Your face scrunches in distaste. “Kakashi two-point-oh is most definitely not a character I like. I’ll stick with the original, thank you very much.”

From beside you, you notice Yeosang’s shoulders start to shake with mild laughter.

“Anyways,” you chuckle. “That’s a topic for another day.”

The way you see Mingi visibly pout as he sinks back into his seat has the corner of your lips quirking upwards. A second later, and you’re turning your attention back to Jongho on your left.

“I hope you enjoy the book, it’s definitely darker than some of the other ones I’ve written.” You comment.

At this, you notice Hongjoong’s brow quirk. “Darker, you say?”

“Twisted, if you will.” You shrug a shoulder casually.

“Hey, Jongho, once you’re finished with that, let me borrow it.” Hongjoong turns to the aforementioned male who already seems to have begun reading your book.

Jongho’s eyes flash, protectively hugging the novel to his chest. “Get your own.”

The two males begin bickering over your book, and you notice how the other members have all settled back into their seats. You decide to get comfortable in your own, leaving the conversation at that for now as you put in your headphones. A moment later, and you’re putting on one of your softer playlists to help you fall asleep. It works, too, for in no time at all, you’re succumbing to the realm of dreams.

Of course, it doesn’t last too long, for the flight attendants come around offering drinks shortly after. The meals are served following that, and then finally, you’re able to sink back into the comfort of sleep once more.

A few hours later, you wake to more hushed whispers coming from your left. It sounds as if Jongho is attempting to convince Yeosang to switch seats with him once more, much to the elder’s annoyance.

“I said, ‘no’,” Yeosang grumbles, his arms crossed over his chest.

“But I want to ask her about her new novel,” Jongho whines.

“Ask her some other time,” Yeosang huffs out a breath. “She’s sleeping.”

Jongho leaves it at that, but when you crack open your eyes to assess the situation, you notice he’s already almost halfway through the book you’ve given him. A large pout rests on his features as he pointedly flips back to the page he had last been on, continuing to read without another word.

After about another hour where you fall in and out of sleep, you decide that you’re too restless for the moment to succumb to the land of dreams. Adjusting yourself in your seat, you make sure not to disturb the resting male beside you. Leaning forward, you shuffle a few things around as you grab a notebook and a pen from your bag.

Might as well get a little bit of writing done.

The lighting inside the plane is low, but you’ll make do. The last thing you want is to disturb the people around you, and besides, it’s not like you can’t see anything. It’s no different than all of those nights you used to spend when you were younger sitting in the dark staring at your laptop’s screen as you wrote until the first glimpses of the sun’s rays peeked through your windows.

Turning to a blank page, you let out a small sigh through your nose.

Now, where to begin?

Quirking a brow, you smirk to yourself, putting the pen to paper.

Before you know it, two hours have passed and you’ve written a fair amount for the opening of your new book. Sitting upright reveals just how stiff your neck has gotten, bringing a hand up to gently begin massaging at the muscles as you stretch it out lightly. A moment later, and a few satisfying pops can be heard as you crack it, and subsequently, your back.

The way you notice Yeosang spare a look at you out of the corner of his eyes has  you smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

You begin to close your notebook before a final idea strikes you, scribbling the little note to yourself for later. Once done, you tuck it away, pulling out your laptop shortly after.

A brief silence settles over you as you place your laptop onto the little tray you’re using. That is, until a soft voice from beside you draws your attention.

“You have nice handwriting.”

Your entire body freezes, turning to blink at the male in shock.

“Do you always write everything out before typing it?” Yeosang meets your gaze, a mild curiosity lingering in his tone.

Slowly, you shake your head. “Not usually. I just prefer writing things out like this when I’m in public. I always feel like my screen is a giant ‘Look Here’ sign when I use my laptop. That, and you were sleeping. I didn’t want to disturb you with the light.”

“I thought I was ‘just some guy’ to you?” He quirks a brow, completely misinterpreting your words for the moment.

“You are.” You confirm. “I would extend the same curtesy towards anyone.”

“But not right now?” He quirks a brow, eyes briefly darting down to the way you open your laptop.

“You’re awake now, and I think I’ve earned myself a few episodes of Jujutsu Kaisen after actually getting some writing done.” You say. “Besides, my hand hurts from gripping the pen so tightly.”

“Oh?” The corner of his lips twitches upwards as he notices you stretching your writing hand out by curling and uncurling your fingers periodically.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho nearly at the end of your book. His body is angled towards you, gaze flitting above the top of the pages every so often to check if you’ll notice him or not. At the way you smile tenderly his way, he’s quick to hide his face behind the pages once more.

“It’s a bad habit I have,” you shrug, setting up your screen with the first episode. “It’s one of the reasons I prefer typing. That, and both spellcheck, and the fact that I can type faster than I can handwrite.”

“I see.” He hums.

You blink, a subtle heat rising to your cheeks. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Not at all.” He smiles politely. “I asked, anyways. Think of it as the mere curiosities of a stranger.”

“Well then, stranger,” you grin slightly, a playful gleam to your eyes as you properly introduce yourself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

An amused grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he introduces himself to you, following along with your antics for the moment. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“There,” you nod once, quite firmly at that, too, “Now we’re not strangers.”

“No,” he hums, “I suppose not.”

Turning back to your screen, you are more than content to leave the conversation at that. A moment later, and the familiar sight of the first episode of Jujutsu Kaisen pops up on your laptop, allowing yourself to connect your headphones before pressing play. You get about five minutes into the episode before you begin to feel eyes on you.

Shifting your gaze, you notice Yeosang glancing towards you, and then your screen every few seconds. Carefully, you shift your laptop in his direction so he can see the screen better, and you notice him stiffen slightly in his spot.

You chuckle lightly, silently offering him one of your earbuds.

You don’t even have to look at him to see the way he glances from that small item held in your hand, to your face and back a few times before accepting the offer wordlessly. A press of a few buttons and Korean subtitles appear at the bottom of the screen.

You can see the shock clear on his face as he places the bud in his ear.

“What?” You laugh. “Expecting English?”

He blinks. “Yeah, actually.”

“I think I mentioned my Japanese being better than my Korean,” you hum.

“Your Korean sounds fine to me.” He comments.

A warmth blooms on your cheeks as you divert your gaze to the screen.

“Thank you,” nothing more than a mumble escapes you.

“Why? Do you think you’re not speaking well?” He asks, the anime playing on in the background.

“I used to be friends with a girl who always harped on me for my pronunciation, so it made speaking all the more difficult for me.” You admit softly. “Which is really ironic, when she always complained about people correcting her when she was younger.”

“Harped?” His brow furrows. “How so?”

“She would always make fun of the way I would say stuff,” your nose scrunches in distaste as you recall the memories. “I would learn something new, and the first words out of her mouth would be something like, ‘you really think it’s pronounced like that? You sound like a Koreaboo.’”

His eyebrows raise significantly, “Koreaboo?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, turning your head to meet his gaze only to realize just how close he is to you due to the fact that you’re sharing headphones. A warmth blooms once more on your cheeks. “Ironic, since she wasn’t even Korean to begin with, yet she was correcting my pronunciation.”

“Was she a language teacher?” His brow furrows.

“Not even,” you sigh, shaking your head lightly.

“She sounds like a bitch,” he comments, shifting his gaze to your screen.

You spare a glance at him out of the corner of your eyes. “She was.”

“Well, I think your pronunciation is really good,” he says, somewhat nonchalantly.

You wish you could prevent the way your eyes light up. “Really?”

A soft smile graces his features. “Really.”

“Thank you.” Shyly, you avert your gaze back to your laptop, shifting slightly in your seat.

He smiles kindly at you in response, turning back to the show as well.

About two minutes go by before he’s breaking it again.

“So, how come you have Korean subtitles to a Japanese anime?” He inquires, a hint of curiosity leaking through in his voice.

“Well, back to the language conversation,” you begin, “I had always wanted to learn more than one, but every time I went to study, my mind just wouldn’t retain the information. Except for Japanese. So, originally, I wanted to learn Korean first, but it just wasn’t working out well for me. Another fact she harped on me for: my memory. Anyways, I realized I could remember things better in Japanese, so once I learned that, I learnt Korean from Japanese.”

Yeosang hums, clearly impressed. “I see.”

“It was easier to pick up phrases and stuff with Korean subtitles to my favourite shows, so I made the switch,” you go on to say, tapping the edge of your laptop with your finger lightly. “I still use English subtitles if my brain gets too tired, though.”

“Makes sense,” he nods. “Do you watch dramas?”

“On occasion,” your tone is light, a small hum to your words. “I’m really bad at finishing a series though. I tend to start one, and then not touch it for years before going back to it. I still think I have a few episodes of Goblin left. Which is really ironic considering I referenced the reaper in one of my first published series.”

“You did?” He sounds quite surprised, but curious, nonetheless.

“I did.” You confirm with a chuckle. “I make reference to a lot of things I like in my stories. Music, movies, shows, characters, you name it.”

“What’s the thing you reference the most?” He asks, resting his elbow on the arm of his seat in order to lean his head in his hand.

“Probably The Lord of the Rings,” you chuckle. “I love that series.”

“I don’t think I’ve properly seen it.” He admits.

“Really?” You look at him skeptically. “Forgetting that you’re just some guy for a moment, but you literally have a song called The Ring where you make reference to it in the final lines.”

The somewhat sheepish shrug he gives you makes you laugh.

“Alright, fair enough,” you grin. “If you ever get a chance, you should watch it. The extended editions, though. There’s no other way to properly watch those films in my opinion. You get so much more out of them that way.”

“Oh, really?” He hums, amusement dancing in his eyes as he quirks a brow.

“Literal cinematic masterpieces.” You continue. “There’s so many cool behind the scenes facts and tidbits I could tell you, but I don’t want to subject you to that right now.”

“Why not?” His question clearly catches you by surprise.

“I don’t know if you’d be interested,” you shrug, blinking in the next second. “I do also have the movies saved on my laptop, but again, I won’t subject you to that. They’re long as hell, especially if you’ve never seen them before.”

“Ah, so binging them all at once isn’t a good idea.” He nods in understanding.

“Oh, no, you could totally do that, but it’s like, thirteen hours or so.” You say. “Definitely worth it if you make a day out of it, though, Watching them back to back really immerses you in the story.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, then.” He smiles. “They’re based on books, aren’t they?”

The way your eyes instantly light up does not go unnoticed by him.

“They are!” You reply enthusiastically. “They’re honestly one of my favourite series both in film and on paper, but I wouldn’t go around recommending people the book series.”

“Why’s that?” He inquires, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.

“They’re dry as fuck,” you say, and you notice his eyebrows raising in amusement at your description. “Listen, they’re not for everybody. Even I usually take years to get through the first book when I read the series. It’s a very tedious journey, but if you enjoy fantasy, they’re a key staple to read. In any language. At least, in my opinion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles softly, and again, you can feel your whole body heating in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I tend to ramble about the things I really like.” You avert your gaze, fingers suddenly toying with one another in your lap.

“I don’t mind at all.” He’s quick to assure you, eyes crinkling gently in the corners.

A soft smile pulls at your lips as you keep your gaze fixed on your hands for the moment. You can still feel him looking at you for a few seconds longer before he diverts his gaze back to the screen.

The both of you sit in silence for a few minutes as the anime continues to play. By now, the second episode has started, and the corner of your lips quirks upwards as you watch the familiar interactions between the characters. You could probably recite both the original Japanese lines, and the English subtitles by now given how many times you’ve watched it.

A loud gasp from across the aisle draws your attention.

“Holy fuck!” It’s Jongho.

“What? What is it?” The somewhat panicked voice of Hongjoong reaches your ears as you see both him and Seonghwa leaning towards the youngest from the row ahead.

The younger male turns to you, his eyes wide and his lips parted in shock.

“You-“ he blinks, “I-“ he tightens his hold on the now completed book in his hands, “the twist!”

You grin. “I told you it was dark.”

“I just knew it. The way he was acting when he got back to the room was too suspicious.” Jongho mumbles, flipping through some of the pages to quickly reread certain lines. “It was there all along!”

“Some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten about writing is that plot twists shouldn’t catch you suddenly off guard. The best ones are hinted at throughout, and if the reader can pick up on them, you’re doing a good job of laying out the clues.” You chuckle fondly at how eager he listens to you. Even the others look on you in mild awe. “Granted, you don’t want it to be too obvious.”

“It definitely wasn’t,” Jongho shakes his head, as if to reassure you. “It was all paced perfectly.”

“Thank you,” a brilliant, albeit bashful smile takes over your features, and again, you feel Yeosang looking at you out of the corner of his eyes. “I’m glad to hear you liked it.”

“Liked it?” Jongho looks about ready to vibrate out of his seat from his excitement. “I loved it!”

Once more, you thank him lowly, that smile never leaving your features. A warmth blooms in your chest from his words, and the fact that you can see him immediately opening the book back to the first page to begin rereading it has a happiness unlike any other building within. The way Hongjoong starts to pester Jongho about letting him borrow the book has you wiggling your toes to expel some of your giddiness.

You’re just about to offer the leader of Ateez his own copy when a voice from your immediate left draws your attention.

“Who’s your favourite character?” Yeosang blinks once before turning his attention to you from the screen.

“Huh?” You blink back at him, clearly caught off guard by his inquiry. For a moment, you think he’s asking you about your favourite character from your new book.

“Of the show,” he jerks his chin in the direction of your laptop where you see episode two finishing up for the time being.

“Oh,” you tilt your head in acknowledgement, noticing a familiar male peering over the top of the seat in front of you once more. Your cheeks flare with heat. “Probably Sukuna, but Toji is a close second.”

At the way Yeosang quirks his brow at you, you’re quick to continue.

“Look, my taste in fictional men is questionable at best,” you comment, shifting slightly in your seat. “Don’t ask me why I have a thing for the psychopaths, but I do. Bonus points if they have red hair.”

You notice Hongjoong quirk a brow out in your direction of the corner of your eye, only for him to quickly turn to the male sitting to his left. A moment later, and he returns to his previous position, Wooyoung popping his head over the seat to grin smugly in your direction. You simply raise both eyebrows curiously.

“So, you like red hair?” The smug grin Wooyoung wears says it all.

“I enjoy the colour, yes, but it’s not my favourite.” You confirm, noticing how the male wiggles his brows suggestively at you. “The colour suits you very well, yes.”

“Good thing he’s not a psychopath,” Seonghwa mumbles.

“Debatable,” Hongjoong sighs, and you nearly laugh.

“Then, what are your favourite colours?” Yeosang inquires, blinking at you innocently.

“Hair wise?” At the nod you receive, you hum, thinking it over for a moment before answering. “For some reason, I definitely have an affinity towards bleached hair. I love the look of blond locks. Bonus points if it’s long and the roots are starting to grow in slightly. My absolute favourite is lavender, though. As much as I love Taemin’s blond hair, his lavender hair gets me every time. Jeonghan from Seventeen also had really nice lavender locks, and they were long, too. Oh, and special shout out to skunk dyes.”

The way they all stare at you has you immediately shrinking into your seat. Even more so when you see Wooyoung grinning at you like a maniac from a little ways away.

“Sorry, I’m rambling again.” You chuckle nervously. “Here I am talking to literal idols about this stuff when we’re not even friends.”

The boys all share a brief look with one another.

“We could be.” It’s Hongjoong that offers, the others nodding along softly in agreement.

To say his words catch you off guard would be an understatement, and you have just enough time to compose yourself so that you’re no longer staring at him, dumbfounded. 

A blink, and a soft smile pulls onto your features. “I’d like that very much.”

A phone is nearly flung at your face, were it not for the way Yeosang quickly catches it midair.

“Jongho, calm down!” Yeosang harshly whispers to the younger beside him, gaze sharp as he shoots a pointed glare towards the male.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Jongho looks absolutely mortified when you turn to look at him.

“It’s alright,” you chuckle. “Honestly, not the worst thing that has been thrown at me before.”

The way they all look at you in confusion at you has shrugging a shoulder casually.

“When I worked at a bookstore on the operations team, I can’t count the amount of things that either got thrown at me by accident, or fell on me.” You say casually. “Books are also much heavier than phones.”

“I would imagine,” Hongjoong chuckles along with you. “Do you have kaotalk?”

“I do,” you nod in confirmation. “Though, we might have to wait until we land to exchange information. No wifi and all.”

“Ah, right,” you see his head tilt in acknowledgement.

A small pout pulls onto Jongho’s features as Yeosang hands the youngest his phone back.

“Then, we’ll exchange information once we land.” Mingi grins widely, practically shaking in excitement in his seat.

“Sounds good to me.” You grin right back, heart racing inside of your chest.

If someone would have told you that you’d not only be on the same flight as Ateez, but befriending them on said flight, you would have told them to stop fantasizing. However, truly being in this situation feels so unreal, even as you watch them all settle back into their seats with smiles on their faces.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

Yeosang quirks a brow.

“For catching that.”

“No problem.” The corner of his lips twitches upwards.

“So,” you shoot a look at him out of the corner of your eyes, noticing how the anime has been continuing to play in the background this whole time. “Who’s your favourite character?”

“In this?” He motions to your screen with a jerk of his chin.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.” He replies casually, and your eyes nearly bulge right out of your head.

“You’ve never seen it before?” Your voice is full of disbelief as you look towards him once more. At the shake of his head, you’re quick to restart the third episode, muttering to yourself about talking over the show this whole time.

“It’s okay,” Yeosang chuckles. “I’m used to the chaos.”

You quirk a brow. “Are you, now?”

“Yes.” he deadpans, turning his head to shoot you a pained smile with a thumbs up in the next second. “I thrive in it."

You cannot help yourself. A loud, boisterous laugh escapes you, your eyes crinkling in joy. A fact which is only emphasized when Yeosang begins to chuckle along with you, only to steel his face and nod solemnly every time he notices you peering over at him.

The way he grins right along with you as you finally calm yourself down from laughing so hard says it all. Not even the way you can see Jongho flicking his gaze towards you from over his book, a clear pout on his features can pull you out of this moment right now.

For the rest of the plane ride, you either watch more episodes of Jujutsu Kaisen with Yeosang, or talk lowly with him. The conversations are somewhat short, but calm nonetheless. They mainly consist of one of you asking the other a simple question, and going from there. Truly, two strangers just passing the time and enjoying the other’s company, rather than sitting in silence.

At one point, you manage to fall asleep again, only to be woken up by the announcement that the plane is now beginning its decent into Seoul. The way you notice your laptop has gently been closed, your headphone wrapped up and sitting neatly on top of it makes you smile softly.

Stretching as much as you can, you move to put your laptop away. You keep your headphones out, just in case you want to listen to music for the last little bit of your journey. Then, once you’ve settled back into your seat, you turn your head to the side. 

Gazing out of the window, nothing but pure excitement shines within your eyes. It’s finally time, and as soon as you land, you feel as if everything will truly fall into place.

You can feel someone’s gaze on you every now and then. You figure it’s either Jongho watching you out of the corner of his eyes like you’ve noticed he likes to do, or Yeosang looking out of the window with you. Thus, you opt to sit back as far in your seat as you can, giving the male the perfect view to observe the ground getting closer and closer with each passing second. He’s probably missed his home more than you could ever imagine.

The moment the plane touches the ground, you cannot help the way your breath hitches in your throat. The small bounce of the wheels hitting the tarmac only serves to solidify to you that this is real. You’ve truly moved to Seoul for a year, and you have many adventures planned already to come. Starting with that award’s show, of course.

Turning your phone back on cellular for the moment, you’re quick to shoot a text to your family letting them know you’ve landed and arrived safely. It’s now early morning for them, so you’re not expecting a message back for at least another few hours. You also need to get a new data plan for the year you’ll be living in Seoul, so you add that to the mental list of things you need to do already forming in your head.

Five minutes later, and you’ve been taxied to the gate, the other passengers beginning to disembark. Honestly, you can’t wait to get off of this plane and stretch your legs. Your few trips to the bathroom did nothing to help. Besides, you can’t wait to get to your place and shower.

Holding your bags in your lap, you watch as Yeosang steps out into the aisle. Only, he pauses, motioning for you to go ahead of him.

“Ladies first.”

You smile politely, thanking him lowly as you step out of the row and begin to disembark the plane. You get about two steps onto the gate when Jongho steps in beside you, as if he was eager to follow you out.

“Holy shit, you are tall.” His awestruck voice reaches your ears.

An amused glance is sent his way out of the corner of your eyes.

“And the most common phrase said by males I meet goes to…” you huff out a laugh, seeing as he continues to scan you from head to toe, noticing how you stand a few inches taller than him.

A red hue begins to creep up his neck and onto the tips of his ears. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“No, no,” you wave him off with another laugh. “It’s just funny when no one believes you are the height you say you are. Used to happen all the time when I tried dating apps.”

“What do you mean?” Yunho steps in on your other side, and you notice Yeosang walking beside him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the shorter male looks slightly irritated. Though, from the way you notice him loop around to begin chasing Jongho, you know that the younger must have done something before exiting the plane.

“Well, where I come from, it’s really common for guys to add their heights to their profile. Which is really funny, when they are usually the ones that lie about it.” You explain, heading towards customs with the crowd from the flight for the moment. “So, I always found it funny when I would tell the people I matched with my height, or when they would ask about it, only to not believe me. Then, whenever we would meet, I would be significantly taller than Jeremy who proclaimed himself to be ‘six-foot three’.”

You see Yunho nod beside you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Got even more prominent when I started doing signings and people would stand near me.” You comment. “Not to mention the guys that would need to ‘prove’ how tall I was whenever they would bring their books up to be signed. On the other hand, though, it’s really cute to see so many people get flustered by it. Female presenting people and non-binary people especially. Though, I will never forget the fans who always ask me to cosplay Lady Dimitrescu from Resident Evil Eight.”

“You’ve cosplayed Lady Dimitrescu?” Mingi attempts to hide his excitement with a clearing of his throat as he steps into the space once occupied by Jongho.

“I’ve thought about it,” you hum, stepping into the line to get through customs with him, Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho right behind you. Looks like the others are a little ways ahead already. “Maybe one day I will.”

“I fully support whatever decision you choose to make.” Jongho nods, enthusiastically.

“Just say you want her to step on you and be done with it,” Yeosang sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

The way the younger lunges for the elder has a laugh escaping you, especially when the two males start bickering and slapping each other’s sides.

“If you want me to step on you that badly, I have one condition,” you joke, stepping up to the front seeing as you’re the next person in line. At the way you seem to now have all four of their undivided attention on you now, you grin, feeling your cheeks beginning to heat. “Suffocate me with your thighs, first.”

Each male doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re being called over to the customs officer, but you definitely catch their stunned reactions. The way you see Jongho nearly fall over, his face turning bright red and looking like he might spontaneously combust has your shoulders shaking in laughter.

The other three aren’t fairing much better. Yeosang’s eyes look about ready to pop out of his head with how wide they’ve gone. Additionally, both Mingi’s and Yunho’s mouths part, subtle blushes of their own creeping to their cheeks before the eldest is clearing his throat. They don’t have much time to dwell on your comment, for they each get called up to their own customs officer to get through to baggage claim soon after.

Getting through customs doesn’t take too long, and before you know it, you’re standing in front of the terminal waiting for your bags to come through. You didn’t necessarily spot any of the other guys, but you haven’t really been looking out for them, either. That is, until you see a blur of red approaching you from the side.

Wooyoung hops right up beside you, stopping short as a look of complete shock crosses his features. “Woah.”

Sparing a glance out of the corner of your eyes, you notice his gaze scan your figure. He begins looking around the ground at your feet, as if to spot whatever it is you must be standing on to make you that much taller than he is. Once he finds none, his awestruck gaze is back on your face.

“Wooyoung, I thought I told you to wait for us,” Hongjoong’s exasperated voice reaches your ears.

Turning your head, you see all of the guys now walking towards you, a few of their staff in tow.

“I’m so sorry, has he been pestering you?” A male, whom you’re assuming is their manager, addresses you.

“Not at all,” you shake your head, a slight grin tugging at your features. “I think I might have broken him, though.”

At your words, all heads turn towards a stunned Wooyoung, his mouth gaping like a fish. He blinks a few times, a dopey grin tugging onto his features soon after as his face begins to turn as red as his hair.

“Wooyo, are you okay?” It’s San who asks, coming up to stand beside the male still blinking at you.

A second later and Wooyoung starts giggling like a maniac, “tall lady. Pretty, tall lady. Pretty and tall lady.”

“Okay, I think someone needs more sleep.” Yunho gently guides the muttering male away from you with the help of San.

“Sorry about him,” Hongjoong chuckles, stepping in beside you.

You notice Yeosang standing on your opposite side, not saying a word. Though, you can feel the way he glances towards you out of the corner of his eyes every now and then.

The terminal begins moving, signifying the start of baggage claim for your flight.

“Anyways, should we exchange Kaotalk’s now?” Hongjoong asks, his phone already held in his hand.

“Sure!” You reply, shifting to grab your phone out of your pocket. A few moments later and you’re holding your screen to him with your Kaotalk code on full display. “Here you go.”

The way his eyes light up has you smiling, and you notice the others all pulling out their own phones to add you as well.

“Feel free to message me anytime,” you smile, already feeling your phone vibrate in your hand with a new message.

However, before you can even check who has messaged you, a voice from your left catches your attention.

“Don’t forget about me.” Yeosang blinks up at you as you turn to face him.

You smile softly. “I could never forget about you.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you’ve just made him blush. The way he averts his gaze, focussing so intently on your phone to make sure he’s added you correctly only confirms your suspicion.

A piece of luggage on the conveyor belt catches your eye. Just as you move to place your phone into your back pocket and grab your bag, you notice Yeosang stop you.

“Which one is it?” He takes a few steps towards the terminal, not even waiting for you to respond.

“The silver one, but I can grab it-“ by the time the words have left your lips, he’s already hoisted your bag from the belt and placed it gently beside you. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

He smiles lightly. “I wanted to.”

You smile back. “I appreciate it.”

“Do you have any more?” He asks, eyes already scanning the moving luggage for similar ones to the bag he’s already grabbed for you.

“I have three, but I don’t expect you to-“

“Is this another?” He points to a larger silver hardshell case coming your way.

“Yes, but-“ again, before you can tell him not to worry about it, he’s lifting your luggage off of the conveyor and placing it gently beside your other one.

“Are the other two the same?” He asks, shifting his gaze towards you from over his shoulder.

“Same style, but red.” You blink, figuring you’re fighting a losing battle at this point if you keep telling him not to worry about it.

“Believe me, if I didn’t help you first, Jongho would have leapt across the room and done it himself,” Yeosang comments, pulling the first of your red bags off of the line for you.

The moment he wheels it over to you, you double check all of the labels, making sure these are indeed your bags.

“What about your bags?” You ask, noticing how he lifts your final bag off of the line in the next second.

“The staff usually handles them.” He shrugs, helping you wheel your bags over to a cart to help you start loading them onto it.

“Ah, so you wanted something to do.” You nod your understanding.

“Had to make sure all my muscles still work after a long flight like that.” He deadpans, the subtlest of quirks to his lips.

“Are you sure you didn’t just want to show off?” You quirk a brow teasingly.

“Depends,” he hums, shooting you a look out of the corner of his eyes as you both head towards the exit. “Were you impressed?”

You laugh, fake swooning in the next second. “My hero.”

Yeosang quirks a grin in response. “Fine then. Your bags were super heavy to lift, and I demand compensation.”

“I never forced you to lift them!” Your mouth falls open, a scandalized look crossing your features.

“I could have lifted them for you.” Jongho cuts in, seeing as they’ve all now caught up to you for the moment. “I would have been more than happy to.”

You chuckle, but you cannot help the way that you notice Yeosang fall silent as the younger inserts himself in between the both of you.

“It’s quite alright,” you smile softly. “Yeosang helped me just fine.”

“Do you have a ride to your accommodation?” It’s Seonghwa who asks, blinking at you with wide eyes.

“I do, thank you.” You nod. “My publisher sent some people to pick me up.”

You see a few of them nod back in understanding just as you reach the exit gate.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye for now.” Hongjoong turns to face you, stopping just off to the side to ensure they’re not blocking anyone’s path.

“You guys be careful out there,” you say, looking over all of them briefly. “I’ve seen some wild videos of how certain people can act towards all of you at the airport.”

“You, too.” Mingi sends a firm nod in your direction.

“Well, hopefully we’ll see you around!” Wooyoung grins, practically vibrating in his spot in excitement.

“Not to be ominous, but I have a feeling you will.” You smile knowingly. “Like I said, feel free to message me any time. Keep in touch if you can, and don’t be strangers.”

“We will,” Hongjoong smiles back, the corner of his own lips quirking knowingly as Jongho begins to pout beside him.

“I’ll see you guys around,” with a final wave, you’re grabbing your two luggage carts and steering them out of the exit.

You don’t even have to turn around to know that they follow you out a moment later. Given the way half of the crowd begins to bustle, practically swarming the opposite ramp as Ateez exits the terminal, you have a definitive answer. However, what you don’t expect is for a few people to be there for you.

“Miss, would you be willing to sign this for me? And could I possibly get a picture, too?” A girl asks, holding a copy of your first published book out to you.

“Of course,” you grin, having already given your luggage to the people you were supposed to be meeting at the airport that your publisher sent. Once you take the book and pen from her hands, you turn to face her. “Who should I make it out to?”

You’re so caught up in your own little world, completely awestruck by the fact that a small crowd had come to greet you at the airport, that you completely miss the feeling of eyes glancing back at you from across the way.

The last thing Yeosang sees before being ushered out to a waiting car is you signing some books and taking pictures with a few fans, a radiant smile lighting up your face.

[campcampkirbykirbykirby]

Camp Camp Commentary Notes - Season 1, Episode 1: Escape from Camp Campbell

This is the first in a series of posts detailing the various nuggets of behind-the-scenes info found in the commentaries of the Camp Camp Seasons 1 and 2 Blu-Ray. I aim to cover both the writer commentary and cast & crew commentary of every episode in the set (except the holiday specials because they don't have commentaries GRRRR)

Writer’s Commentary

Writers went back to touch up this episode after completing the initial 10 episodes, before going on to the bonus 2 episodes that were greenlit following the positive reception

This episode went through about 12-14 drafts before it was finalized

Pilots are very hard because they both need to be very good and hook the audience so they will want to watch more, you have to juggle introducing all the necessary characters and telling a single solid story

Doubly so since this was the crew’s first shot at writing for an episodic series, all their other efforts had been story-driven up to that point

Irony in that the title of the first episode is about wanting to leave the camp (or show) entirely

Max and David’s dynamic is perfectly set up within 8 lines of dialogue

In older versions of the pilot, Mr. Campbell never showed up in person, only in the introductory video that was later repurposed into promotional material

Most of what was taken out of the pilot ended up being reused in some way, including the intro and the teaser trailer

One of the primary goals was to establish early on that this is not a kids show, like some people who saw the early promo material thought it was

This is why Max swears less than 40 seconds in, and why the rabbit gets swooped up by Timothy earlier (although I’d argue you could make that joke in a more family-friendly show)

First RT series produced in more of a writer’s room style akin to The Simpsons

The writers would come up with episode ideas, divy up who’d want what story, they’d write a first draft, come back to it, workshop the script several times, rinse and repeat until it devolved into Miles and Jordan doing final punch-ups and trimming

This pipeline allowed for lots of easter eggs and background details to be slipped in

Then they effectively do a table-read of the script which allows them to add more

Starting in Season 2, they started recording writer’s room conversations, so if something funny came up and they wanted to add it, they wouldn’t just have to go off of memory

Putting all the campers in the activities field doing their activities seemed like a good way to establish all of their respective camps.

Challenger II is Miles’ favorite visual gag (as of 2018, at least)

Working with Lee Eddy and Travis Willingham was great, Lee especially since they had previously worked with her for Red V.S. Blue

Travis was the first person who recorded for the show, as part of the aforementioned introductory video, and he was great at riffing and ad-lib

What exactly Camp Campbell was was foggy initially (whether or not it advertised that it was a camp of all camps), and the initial pilot didn’t explain it very well because they had built an internal understanding of what it was and didn’t do a very good job conveying it to the audience.

Mr. Campbell really likes the Quartermaster

Looking back on the first episodes is very interesting, especially when you have been working on the show for years at that point, for example, Max’s bond with Nikki hasn’t been established yet, so he has to ask why she’d help him.

Not enough time for the full theme song (hence why no intro), so they thought having Gwen interrupt it was funny

The scene where Max, Neil, and Nikki are running was seemingly the origin of Neil’s raptor arms (oh, excuse me, T-rex arms)

Ed, Edd ‘n’ Eddy was used as a reference for things like this because the Eds each had distinct walk cycles befitting their personality

First Day buttons were included so the campers would have a means to get away from the counselors

The music sting as the bus is driving away is a nod to the Back to the Future theme

Cast and Crew Commentary

Michael jokes about a sequel or prequel called “Max Max/Maximum Max”

The scream Miles did when David gets hit by the bus gets used quite a bit

The more Max’s parents push him away, the more he tries to cling to him, according to Maggie

Episode was supposedly recorded March 2016, ironically one of the last ones recorded

Recording for the series started November of 2015

Handheld camera movements in the mess hall scene were added by animator Gil Calceta

Lee Eddy was the only person who auditioned for Gwen, the crew saw it as perfect casting

Laserdisc player is not big enough for laserdisc

Campbell’s lazy wear (for lack of a better term) was only made for the one shot, though it would later comeback in Season 4

Michael initially auditioned for Camp Camp not really knowing what it was, and his script was just some typical Max phrases

Older episodes, Max was pitched up because Michael hadn’t quite perfected the voice yet

There was no helicopter assest created, it’s off screen and only implied by Campbell being pulled up by the ladder

The scene of Nikki throwing the button took 3 days to animate

The line “Go to bitch, jail” in the Camp Camp Rap Rap was an ad-lib/outtake