#with plenty of cameos of course

[kidvoodoo]

Dutch Bookie Joost Klein and his temporary hired gun, Nordic Crime Boss Käärijä

History will call them coworkers….

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly lmao 2024 lambda literary award finalist wynnstannery

[myheadphonesareneverloudenough]

Thinking about how Matt Lang mentioned rerunning TGWDLM.

Obviously, there'd have to be changes. Not just in the casting, but in every aspect of the show just due to the nature of how Hatchetfield has expanded and how TGWDLM has aged.

Now that we know for sure that the events in TGWDLM happened because of Pokey, I think they'd design the show even more around the colour blue instead of green like in the original promotional material. This also gives Matt Dahan so much more to work with when it comes to underscoring, think of all the motifs he has to sneak into the scenes now.

Hidgens would have to be recasted, and while there's plenty of options, I think after Workin' Boys he has to be played by Jeff Blim. I don't know if anyone can ever top what Jeff did in WB. Of course, that would mean that Jeff's original TGWDLM characters would need to be recasted as well. Mr. Davidson has not been seen in HF since TGWDLM (save for the small BF cameo), so it wouldn't be hard to find someone new for that role. Sam Sweetly is more difficult because of his appearances in Nightmare Time and the pre-recorded NPMD cameo, but it's impossible to have Jeff play both Hidgens and Sam in the same scene so he would still most likely be recasted.

The only Jeff character that would need to stay the same is General John Macnamara, that's another permanently Jeff character, in my opinion. The show would require some rearranging so that the Macnamara and Hidgens scenes weren't back to back this way. Between TGWDLM and BF, Macnamara went through a lot of character development and Jeff really discovered who he was by the second show, so it would be super interesting to see him interacting with Paul again now that we've learned so much more about the guy.

Now that Hatchetfield has expanded so much, I think it would be really fun to bring in new characters that we've met since TGWDLM happened. They should include Curt Mega as Officer Bailey in Show Me Your Hands, since we know he canonically works alongside Sweetly. Bring in James Tolbert during the PEIP scene as Xander Lee. Even just the people on the streets in La Dee Dah Dah Day, imagine the amount of cameos that could come into play there. Kim Whalen dances in as Becky Barnes, Angela Giarratana is Grace Chasity, all these well-known characters that we never saw during TGWDLM before making small appearances as they were already infected by the hive mind.

Speaking of the La Dee Dah Dah Day number, it would be fucking awesome to get Joey Richter back in the Pete Spankoffski costume for the coffee shop scene to do the hot chocolate boy bit.

I also just think a new perspective on the show will change so much of the context. Like Emma discussing Jane, we now know Jane's family with Tom and Tim. We're now very familiar with Ted's little brother, a character we had no idea existed during TGWDLM (think about Ted's little freak out over Alice being dead at Hatchetfield High...). We had no idea that this apocalypse was brought on by one of the Lords in Black.

Anyways. I agree with Matt, they should definitely bring The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals back for another run of the show.

[seiwas]

prompt: fingertips trailing, not used to this feeling + “please stay. for me?”

summary: college parties can be loud, but it's quiet in this bubble you and shouto have made for yourselves at the end of this couch.

wc: 1.6k

contains: gn!reader, college!au, cameos from everyone else in the gang, mentions of alcohol (it's a college party after all!!), friends to ???, fluff, sfw

co-written by @stellamancer as part of our milestone event collab: keep this love unspoken (tell me as loud as you can) [closed]

At some point of every college party your friends drag you to, you always end up here: in some corner of the house, sitting on a couch as you watch Kirishima perform some ridiculous dare that Kaminari somehow put him up to. With Sero filming, of course. 

Sometimes their roles switch, and Ashido and Jiro get added into the mix—not you though, nope. 

During parties like this, you always stake claim to the far end of the couch, nursing one of Yaoyorozu’s concoctions in your hand. You’re happy just to watch them this way—your little friend group formed through spiderwebs of shared classes and friends of friends. 

“So, she tries to tell him how she feels, right? But…” Uraraka tattles, leaning closer to your ear as she hangs off the armrest beside you. 

The music settles into a muffled backdrop for her animated storytelling, always the ever-sweetheart who ensures you’re in the loop with everything. You nod along, the corners of your mouth curling. Your legs cross over one another to sink more comfortably into soft cushion, the slight buzz in your head settling you to relax.

In the middle of Uraraka’s retelling of events, you feel the space beside you dip, a presence almost imperceptible if not for the low ‘hello’ that accompanies it. 

There’s a practiced ease to the way its owner slips beside you, as if done plenty of times before (in lecture halls and restaurant booths, library sessions and entirely too-cramped car rides home). 

“Shouto,” your eyes widen, surprise melting into relief.

You’d kind-of been hoping he’d come. 

“You made it.” 

He nods, lips curling into a small smile. The gray lines on his navy blue flannel stand out softly atop the textured ridges of corduroy; his red cup holds suspiciously purple liquid—a good reason he’s left it untouched. 

“I was told I would be the designated driver.” 

Your lips curve over the edge of your cup, stifling your smile. Shouto has a bit of an awkward stiffness to how he speaks, a semi-formality to the way he arranges his sentences—but you find that endearing about him; much like you do his bluntness, and his unintentionally funny side comments, and the way he would so willingly forego drinking in lieu of his responsibility to drive your friend group home later on. 

It’s endearing, because he turns to you most times after dropping the gutsiest quips to some of Bakugo’s (fake) insults—as if he’s waiting for your reaction, hoping you’d give one. You’re pretty sure a one-sided bickering with the blond resulted in him showing up here. 

It’s endearing, because you’ve had this crush on Shouto since your first year of college; since he slid himself into the seat beside yours for one of your Chemistry classes, much like he did just moments ago. 

And you think, that maybe, with the way he always gravitates towards you, that there might just be something. 

The weight pressed beside you is distracting, his thigh warm against yours. There’s a triangular cut-out of space by your hips, hidden to everyone else but occupied by you, Shouto, and the almost-touching of your fingertips. You’re close enough to catch the faint notes of washed violet leaf and pea—he always smells like the faded remnants of his cologne blended into detergent and baby powder. 

“Well, look who finally decided to show up!” Ashido’s voice is loud, booming into the space between you and Shouto. “About time!” 

“Hello to you too.” His voice is cool and cordial, unaffected by Ashido’s rambunctious energy. 

She blinks at him and looks around as if she's searching for something for a minute before asking, “...where's Bakugo?” 

“Not here,” Shouto says. “He said that he didn't want to ‘be at some dumb party with a bunch of drunkass losers.’” 

You can’t help but giggle a little, while the words are undeniably Bakugo, hearing them in Shouto’s measured tone is kind of funny. If Bakugo were here, though, you feel like he'd complain, about what—you're not sure. 

Ashido clicks her tongue in annoyance. “He's missing out. I think even Blasty Boy would get a kick out of the spicy food challenge that Kirishima put Kaminari up to.” 

Spicy food challenge? With alcohol? It sounds like a recipe for disaster, one that you're hesitant to watch. 

You can feel the warmth of someone's gaze on you and when you look, you find Ashido eyeing you coyly, like she knows something you don't. Then her eyes slide over to Uraraka. 

“Ochako, you wanna come watch?” 

The question startles the other girl a little as she sits up, looking a bit hesitant and you have no doubt that she's just as eager as you are to see Kaminari make a mess of himself. 

“I don't know…” she murmurs.

“Come on, it'll be funny!” Ashido insists, but when that doesn't seem to convince her, Ashido’s gaze turns sharp, giving a meaningful look that communicates something with her eyes alone. 

“I guess I'll come. Someone has to keep Kirishima from going too crazy.”

Ashido grins widely and gives you and Shouto a little wink before skipping away.

When Uraraka excuses herself, you finally turn to Shouto, pointing your head at his drink, “Momo’s?”

He shakes his head, stray strands of red hair brushing against the tips of his eyelashes,  “Mineta.”

“Ah.” 

That explains why his drink looks untouched. Among your friends, there are only two self-proclaimed amateur bartenders: Yaoyorozu, who’s given herself a bartender name—Creati, and Mineta, who everyone calls Grape Juice, because no matter what he puts in his drinks (and only God really knows what goes in it), they always end up a sickly deep purple. 

Your response earns you a barely concealed chuckle from Shouto, his lips lifting into a soft smile. 

“Are you enjoying so far?” he leans in closer, head tilted so his words flow warmly into your ears. The proximity makes you nervous, makes you fidget the slightest bit until you feel your nailbeds touch his. 

You swallow your heartbeat. 

“I like the music,” you briefly meet his eyes, his gaze as intent as it always is. Your eyes avert to the nearest thing they focus on—one of your other friends tinkering with his turntable at the music booth, “Tokoyami’s sets are always good.” 

Shouto hums. 

“You?”

And you’re sure you said it loud enough for him to hear, but he still scoots closer, fingers slotting themselves in the gaps between yours. Shy touches have been the hallmarks of your friendship lately, an equally thrilling yet familiar connection shared when everything around you becomes too loud. 

It’s never been like this though—his pinky now interlacing itself with yours. 

Your breath hitches. 

“The music is loud,” he says, but it’s ironic; the noise around you has muffled, the music drowned out—you hear nothing except the feeling you’ve grown beneath your ribcage, rattling against your bones. 

He stares at you as the music beats on— one, two, three— one, two, three and as your heart tries to synchronize with the rhythm you realize that he's waiting on a response. 

“Yeah…” You nod too, just in case he’s having trouble hearing.  

The conversation ends that way; and while there's a part of you that wishes you'd said something more to keep things going, the content look on Shouto’s look makes you think that maybe this is fine. With your feelings entwined like this, it feels like the two of you are in your own little world, your own little bubble that just belongs to you and Shouto. 

It's nice. Comfortable. You could get used to this.

“Shouto!”

But then the bubble bursts. 

“You came!” A girl you recognize, but whose name you can't quite recall comes into view, all smiles and dressed to impress. 

“I did,” Shouto answers her and you're weirdly pleased to see his expression passive as usual. 

The girl giggles and the sound is grating on your ears. You don't know why. Too much alcohol maybe? She tilts her head, smile widening as she says, “I'm so glad to see you! Do you want to get a drink?” 

No. You don't say it aloud but before Shouto can even answer her the word is resounding in your head, accompanied by a twisting feeling in your stomach. It's not your call, Shouto is free to do what he wants, but… 

(Shouto glances over at you, feeling your pinky tighten ever so slightly around his, searching for some sort of cue.) 

“Come on,” the girl urges in the absence of a response from Shouto. “We can get a drink for your friend here too!”

“... sure,” Shouto finally says after a moment. He starts to rise from his seat next to you but your pinky tightens. You don't want him to go. He looks at you inquisitively. “What do you want to drink?”

You don't want to drink. The drink you were nursing earlier was enough, more than enough, with the alcohol coursing through you, warm, and at this moment, like liquid courage. 

“...please stay,” you blurt out. 

Shouto looks down at you and you think he looks a little bit shocked. A little concerned. Your only words of explanation manage to be—

“For me? Please?” 

He bends back down, tufts of red and white hair brushing against his forehead as he looks you in the eye. All you smell is the faded notes of his cologne mixed in with detergent and baby powder. “Was your drink too strong?”

Maybe. You wouldn't have said that sober.

Embarrassment flushes you warm, the heat spreading throughout your entirety. 

The girl looks concerned too. “I can go get you water if you want?”

Shouto glances at her, “If you wouldn't mind. I'll stay here just in case.” 

She nods and walks off, presumably to find you some water, leaving you and Shouto on your own once more. A moment passes and you say, sheepish as your words from earlier sink in. “...sorry… I hope you don't mind…”

Shouto stares at you for a moment, considering but he gives you a small smile. His pinky tightening around yours once more. “It's fine. I don't mind.” 

notes: requested by @kissxcore

(sel speaking)

alexis! thank you so much for requesting (and for waiting)! i'm not too sure if this is what you were hoping for, but nonetheless, i hope you like it 🥺 it's a little fluffier than what the prompt looks like on surface level, but i kind of wanted to capture that feeling of loud noise being muffled when you're with someone you like 🥺

where would this fic be without niku's dialogue!! truly!! always adore how she's able to slip in and out of different characters and nail each of their tones and characterisations every time!! she added so much life to this by including dialogue from the others in the gang 🥺

[igbylicious]

My god Im so curious about Yunho from your Woosan fic 😫 anything for a solo scene with him to see what hes like esp cuz damn

oh god strictly speaking i don’t take requests but OOF anon it’s whiway and you caught my brain right in the middle of a perfect Yunho-shaped storm asdjhadshj. so here you go, i whipped this up real quick >:3c

WHICHEVER WAY: A YUNHO BONUS

(set before the main series but doesn’t need context. features a different reader character)

pairing: yunho x gn reader

genre: pure smut, strangers who fuck

wc: 2.5k

warnings: bdsm sex party but like a lowkey chill semi-privately hosted one, dom Yunho, sub reader, big dick Yunho obv, explicit consent, blow job, exhibitionism (you suck Yunho off in the middle of a room full of strangers), a lil rough face-fucking & light choking, hand kink, hand on throat, Yunho wears a leather glove, dirty talk, cum swallowing, light hairpulling (@ reader), copious amounts of drool, degradation that sometimes leans into praise, nicknames for reader (‘cocksleeve’, ‘cockslut, sweetheart), corruption kink if you squint, Yunho pov, mention/cameo of the skz aussie line, also a San cameo and he’s shy :3, implied threesome w/ San at the end

a/n: gender neutral reader, wearing clothes described to have ‘generous amounts of see-through fabric’ but no specific details. reader is called ‘little’ but in a sweetly demeaning way; not a reflection on physical size, and also called ‘pretty’. there is a mention that Yunho has larger hands

Yunho always enjoys the parties hosted by Chris. He has a ridiculously large home with plenty of room to accommodate his guests, zero tolerance for unwanted shenanigans — and great snacks at the buffet table.

People tend to underestimate the importance of a good snack during a sex party. Not Yunho.

He scopes out the room while munching on some kkokkalcorn, not in any particular rush to get his hands dirty or his dick wet. It’s still early; the door has not even been closed yet, but already there is a decent amount of people. Yunho knows some of them, at least by face, but there are some unfamiliar ones too.

Yunho hones in on the unfamiliar faces. He enjoys meeting new people, like that adorably inexperienced dom he met at his last party; nerve-wrecked yet filled with potential — but San is not here. Too bad. Yunho wouldn’t mind taking him under his wing again.

But San quickly fades from Yunho’s mind when a stranger catches his eyes. When you catch his eyes.

He stops reaching for more snacks, absent-mindedly using a tissue to wipe his hands clean while he watches you instead. You took the flexible dresscode and ran with it, wearing a sexy getup with generous amounts of see-through fabric. Covered yet exposed. Intended to provoke… but not exuding any particular authority. You want to be noticed, noticed by someone who will act on what they see.

It’s enough for Yunho to mentally categorise you a sub, or at least a switch. He can never be completely sure from just a look, of course — but Yunho has a solid track record of educated guesses, and you’ve put too much effort into your look to be unintentional about what message you telegraph to others. Well, you succeeded in your efforts; Yunho has noticed you, and he is definitely contemplating to act on it.

Your getup almost makes him feel a little under-dressed in comparison. Nice slacks and a flattering pinstripe waistcoat, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his strong forearms. The look is finished by a nice, bulky watch on his wrist and silver rings adorning his long fingers on one hand, a leather black glove on the other.

(Okay, maybe he’s not that under-dressed. He also wanted to telegraph a message.)

You must feel his eyes on you, glancing Yunho’s way and unmistakably pleased by his attention. You bite your lip, almost like you’re shy, but then you subtly arch your back a little, pushing your pretty plump ass back. You grin when Yunho’s eyes follow the movement, then you saunter over to the buffet table with confident steps.

Yunho watches with a slow, amused smile how you ignore him completely, pouring yourself a glass of water instead. Already you’re playing. He doesn’t mind that, not at all. He can give a little chase if you want to be pursued.

“Haven’t seen you around this scene before. First timer?” he asks. His voice is casual, his burning gaze anything but.

You look at him over the brim of your glass, hiding a coy smile. Your eyes flicker over to Yunho’s hands, lingering on his leather glove. “Second, actually,” you answer, though Yunho infers from your tone that while you might be new to parties, you are not inexperienced with this type of play in general.

“Shame,” he says with a shrug. “Wouldn’t have minded showing you around. Give you the grand tour.”

You set down your glass, tilting your head with a playful glint in your eyes. “…You can still show me around, if you like. Wouldn’t mind being seen with you.”

The way you tilted your head shows off the column of your neck in a way that has Yunho’s hands itching. He considers your grin for a long moment, flexing his fingers. You don’t waver.

“Yeah. I can do that,” Yunho says, something darker creeping into his voice. “So what are you looking for? Any hard limits?”

“Nothing outside what Chris doesn’t allow in his house,” you say, not in the least thrown by the directness of Yunho’s question. You talk through some of your expectations and preferences, and Yunho listens with vested interest as the vast extent of your compatibility rapidly becomes clear.

His pants are already getting a little tight. You notice.

“Then… want to play with me?” you grin, biting your lip at him.

“Thought you’d never ask.” Yunho extends his ungloved hand to you, and he chuckles at how you almost seem disappointed. “Hey. All good things to those that wait,” he teases, beckoning his long fingers, showing off his rings.

“I’m not good at waiting,” you sulk, but take his hand anyway. For all your pouting, Yunho can feel the shudder that runs through you as his warm palm envelops yours, his rings pressing into your skin.

He leads you away from the buffet table (‘shenanigans near the snacks’ is among the things Chris does not allow), across the house’s open floorplan to a semi-secluded lounge area. You won’t be alone there.

Some of your future bystanders look up at the new arrival, though a few are too wrapped up in each other to pay you and Yunho any mind. Soft moans and faint wet squelches make up the background music, punctuated by the occasional muffled cry from a private room nearby.

Everyone else is seated, but Yunho takes you to stand right in the middle of the lounge area.

“Now, let us see what you can do,” he drawls, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. It’s time to play for real now. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

As you do just so, Yunho glances about the room again. Everyone not otherwise occupied is watching you intently. Hungry interest; some of pure appreciation, others laced with envy.

Just as you unbutton Yunho’s slacks and pull them down, inhaling tightly when you fully comprehend what you are dealing with, Yunho catches the eye of a delicate young man with long blond hair. A pair of lips is lavishing his chest with attention and yet he can’t look away, can’t seem to decide if he wants to fuck you or want to be you, face-to-face with Yunho’s impressive size.

Yunho grins at the pretty freckled blush on the young man’s face — and then ignores him completely, putting his hand on your head to give you a light push down to his half-hard cock. He sighs in bliss when you press a soft kiss against the tip. A sweetheart you are indeed.

You start off slow, not taking him very deep yet; first a few hungry strokes with the flat of your tongue over the underside of his slowly hardening dick. It creates an easier slide for your hand, but your mouth is focused on sucking his cockhead, teasing at his slit. Yunho takes deep breaths, not wanting to show just how affected he is already.

He idly wonders if this is your usual style, working up to more, or if you’re a little intimidated by his sheer girth and length. He wouldn’t mind that — it’s kinda cute, honestly. And it does lead to wonder just how filthy you’ll get once the timidity wears off…

Yunho likes the thought of that. Wants to coax it out of you.

“Cute,” he taunts with a raspy chuckle, sinking his ungloved hand into your hair. “The little cockslut is nervous about taking my dick down that tight throat. Never had one that big before, have you?”

You moan around him, glancing up with a pitiful shimmer in your eyes. You take him just a little deeper, whine in frustration at the physical limitation of your mouth, and pitifully shake your head at him.

His cock twitches, and not just from the vibrations of your whines. Usually Yunho believes he doesn’t have an ego about his size, just appreciates its utility — but then someone like you comes along and proves him all wrong.

A light movement catches Yunho’s eye, and he chuckles again. “Look at you, can’t even keep your hands to yourself,” he scoffs as you try to relieve some of the pressure between your legs. “No. No, that won’t do. Cocksleeves don’t get to touch themselves until they’ve served their purpose.”

You make a noise, slightly more distressed this time as you stare up at him.

“I’m not good at waiting,” you had said. It sounded bratty to Yunho’s ears at the time, still does now, but there is not a hint of defiance in your needy eyes, only desperation.

“But… I happen to be in a friendly mood. How about we make a deal,” Yunho offers in compensation. (Fuck, is he soft on you already?) “You keep your hands where they belong” — he pats on his thighs — “and I will use mine to reward you after.”

Just to make his point, Yunho goes to lightly wrap his gloved hand around your neck, leather pressing against bare skin, while his other hand tugs at your hair a little harder. He saw you check them out earlier. Yunho knows perfectly well how most people feel about his hands, and you are no different.

You swallow thickly around his cockhead, anticipation shuddering through you. Obediently, you press your palms against Yunho’s thighs, fingers brushing against his hipbones. Good. Yunho likes his hands too, likes using them. Especially to wrap around a pretty neck like yours.

“Then come on, sweetheart,” he says, tugging at your hair again. “Show me how far you can take my cock without gagging on it.”

Again, you let out a little moan around him, in protest this time.

Yunho’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Oh? My little cockslut is ready to choke on my dick now?” (You sure changed your tune on that one quick. Yunho is definitely not complaining though. Maybe you really aren’t a brat.)

You make an affirmative noise that grows whiny when his gloved fingers tighten ever so slightly. Shit. He’s gonna have so much fun with you.

“Then relax for me, sweetheart. Let’s see how deep I can fit in that tight throat.”

The answer is, right around three-quarters deep. It’s a brave effort, honestly; some don’t even get that far. And Yunho hardly cares about the neglected part of his cock, not when you are so warm and welcoming and wet around the rest of him, drool leaking down your chin. Your eyes are even tearier than before, swollen lips stretched obscenely around his fat cock.

You gurgle weakly, your eyes fluttering shut as you let him guide you up and down his length. He can’t imagine that your jaw isn’t aching, but you make no noise of complaint, content to let him take control now it’s clear where your limit lies. Yunho is fine with that, except…

“Look at me,” he says, just sharp enough to snap you out of your cockdrunk haze. “Let me see those pretty eyes while I’m fucking your mouth. A good cocksleeve can do that for me, can’t you?”

You blink up at him, your gaze wet and shimmering. There is almost an innocence to it, like it’s your first time sucking dick and you are in the middle of a holy revelation right here on your knees for him. Never wanting to let him out of your mouth again.

Although… Judging by the way you’re starting to squirm, rubbing your thighs together, Yunho suspects that last part might just be wishful thinking. He hisses when your nails dig into his hips, like you’re trying to stop yourself from reaching down. Yunho smacks at your hands in warning.

“Hey, hey, don’t go and ruin things for yourself now,” he sweetly coos, though his grin mocks as he firmly rubs his thumb over the length of your neck. “You were doing so well, is this your limit? Is this as much as a fragile cockslut like you can take?”

Immediately you whine in protest, trying to shake your head but pinned by Yunho’s hold on your hair, stuffed too deeply by his dick.

“That’s it,” Yunho hums in approval. “I’m gonna move a little faster now, alright? Be good and swallow my load, then I’ll give you everything you need.”

You moan eagerly, letting him fuck into you with shallow but rough thrusts. Muffled whimpers and wet gurgles escape past his cock, your chin soaked with saliva that spills down onto his glove. It doesn’t take him much longer, not with how good your hot mouth feels enveloping him, and the eyes surrounding you and him still watching how Yunho takes exactly what he wants from you.

He grunts sharply when he hits the back of your throat and you spasm around him with a loud, choked moan — and it takes all his self-control not to buck harder into your willing mouth. He could break you, he knows that. You would gladly let him, he knows that too. Not yet. Not this early in the night.

Instead Yunho pulls back until just his cockhead rests heavy and leaking on your tongue. He strokes his spit-glistening length, just a few quick passes and he groans lowly as hot euphoria bursts through his veins, magnified by the sight of your throat bobbing as he spills inside, swallowing him down.

Yunho pants with harsh breaths as he carefully releases your hair, still semi-hard when your glossy lips are finally released. They stay open in a wide ‘o’ as you stare up at him in a daze, like he fucked the shape of himself into them.

Your knees are stiff and unsteady as Yunho helps you back on your feet. It endears him, appealing to his softer side again. The sloppy mess on your face and neck, however, appeals to a different side. He sort-of wipes you clean, two tender hands cupping your cheeks, but he doesn’t try too hard. He likes the wrecked look too much on you. Wants to see how much further he can take you.

But as Yunho glances up to give his audience one last look, his eyes light up when he finds a familiar face. A face that has clearly been watching them intently for at least a while, cheeks dusted with an adorable blush, a distinct tenting in the pants underneath.

San.

Almost as shy and uncertain as the last time, though he no longer looks like he might bolt at any second — and he looks exactly as eager to please. Yunho is still not wholly convinced that San isn’t a switch, despite what he may say himself; but then again, Yunho’s guesswork has never been an exact art. Doesn’t matter right now anyway. A sweet thing like you might be just what San needs to melt that uncertainty away… and Yunho finds himself in a sharing mood.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Yunho murmurs to you, gently brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Yeah,” you say, slightly hoarse but with a tired, radiant smile. “I’m really good.”

“Then… how does my pretty slut feel about having two cocks tonight?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, but you quickly find the target of Yunho’s suggestion, whose flush deepens when he realises he’s been noticed. Your breath catches at the sight of San, and Yunho smiles slowly as he draws you towards him. The night has just gotten started, and already it’s far beyond even his sweetest expectations.

[lilacmingi]

QUIDDITCH CHAMPIONSHIP

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Slytherin!San x Slytherin!fem reader

Word count: 6,000

Note: Brief cameo from Jooyeon (Xdinary Heroes) <3 Reminder that this is an imagine from my Wattpad from 2023 so there will not be extra parts or continuations

You and your friends started heading off the quidditch field, walking back towards the school when a voice called out to you.

"Hey, Y/n!"

Knowing who the voice belonged to, you turned expectantly to the dimpled Slytherin standing a few feet away wearing his quidditch uniform proudly.

"What is it, San?"

"Did you see me play today?" He questioned breathlessly.

"I did."

"I was pretty good, wasn't I?"

"You were sub-par."

"Sub-par?" He echoed with a scoff. "I'm the seeker, that's like one of the most important roles on the team. I control the whole game."

"For a seeker, you sure aren't finding much."

San's jaw dropped. "I played very well today."

"But you didn't catch the snitch." You pointed out.

"I-" He paused. "I was having a rough day."

"Right." You nodded and turned to leave.

"Hey!" He called to you, making you stop once more. "You know, the championship game is coming up next week. If we win it, will you go on a date with me then?"

The air between the both of you was quiet for a moment until an idea popped into your head and you smirked, deciding to humor him and play along.

"Tell you what, if you catch the golden snitch, I'll go on a date with you."

You could see a look of determination on his face as his shoulders straightened, his eyes sparkling. "Alright."

"Alright." You respond with finality before turning around and leaving the quidditch field.

You weren't concerned in the slightest about your little bargain with San, you knew he wouldn't catch the snitch so you had nothing to worry about.

San on the other hand, took your bet very seriously and planned to work as hard as he could to make sure the quidditch cup trophy belonged to Slytherin.

7 days until quidditch championship

Your textbook landed with a heavy thud on your desk as you set it down, dropping into your seat with a heavy sigh. The empty chair beside you was soon filled by a bright-eyed San who seemed far too upbeat for someone who was up at 9 AM.

"Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, San." You greeted with less enthusiasm than him.

"I'm gonna go to the quidditch field after school to practice. You wanna come watch?"

"No thank you."

San's nonstop efforts to win you over were incredibly annoying, not to mention futile. No matter how much disinterest you showed, it was never enough to push him away.

"Your loss." He sighed, leaning back in his seat and propping his feet on the desk. "I'm going to practice as much as I can. I plan to catch that golden snitch. Just you wait."

"Mr. Choi, feet off the desk." The professor scolded as she strode into the classroom.

"Sorry." He murmured.

You didn't actually think he was going to succeed, not that you thought he was incapable but because catching the golden snitch is a hard task no matter how good of a player you are, so the chances were fairly low.

"You know, there are plenty of empty seats in this classroom." You pointed out.

"Yeah, but I wanted to sit next to you."

"Of course you did." You mumbled under your breath.

To your relief, class began shortly so you wouldn't have to worry about San bothering you for at least three hours. Normally, you'd be upset about having double hours, which is for students in higher grades, but considering this three hour class will keep you from being pestered by San, you're thankful for it, at least for today.

5 days until quidditch championship

Your quill moved smoothly across your parchment as you scribbled down notes for potions class, listing the ingredients for the Blemish Blitzer and Calming Draught potions as your professor spoke. He was talking about all sorts of different potions, telling everyone what they were used for and what was needed to make each potion. You were listening intently, finding some of them to be very useful. There was a potion for calming anxiety, alleviating coughs, and even one to make the drinker drowsy; that last one might come in handy on nights when you can't sleep.

As you jotted down notes, a paper crane flew over and landed in front of you, pulling your attention away from your messily-written list of ingredients. Your gaze lifted to find the teacher's back turned to the class before you unfolded the paper, a note written inside.

Favorite flower?

Your eyes moved over to the only person who could be responsible for sending such a note. Choi San.

The culprit sat a few desks over with a small smile on his face, his cheek resting on his palm as he waited for your answer. Instead of writing a response, you wadded it up and tossed it into your cauldron without breaking eye contact, seeing a small plume of smoke in your peripherals as the bubbling potion incinerated the paper in the blink of an eye. You only did this when the teacher wasn't looking and once he turned around the smoke had dissipated.

San pressed his lips together, visibly sighing before going back to his work.

The day went on as normal and you found yourself sitting in charms class. Your professor was showing you the wand movement for a particularly difficult spell, your wrist flicking and twisting as you tried to get the movement down. Your brows pulled together, your tongue poking the inside of your cheek in mild frustration.

"One more time." Your teacher instructed, his eyes scanning the classroom to get a look at everyone's movements.

"Now, practice saying the incantation." He directed before saying it aloud, the class repeating it.

"Again."

You echoed the incantation once again with the rest of the group. It was a mouthful, but you felt like you got it.

"Alright. Does everyone understand?"

Your eyes shifted around the room, noticing everyone nodding their heads. To be honest, you didn't quite feel like you got the wand movements down, but no one else seemed to have any problems so you decided to keep it to yourself.

San, who was sitting diagonally from you in the next row over, noticed you struggling. Even though he couldn't see your face too well, he could tell you were unsure when you tried to copy the professor's movements.

Later that day, you were headed down the stone-paved halls towards the Slytherin dorms when you heard a crackling sound of sorts that grabbed your attention. You turned your head towards the strange noise which seemed to be coming from a wall decorated with intricate concrete swirls. You took a step back, watching as the sculpted piece slowly began turning black, a doorway appearing seconds later.

Before you could do anything, a hand shot out, pulling you inside the darkness as the door closed. You began thrashing around until a voice spoke up.

"It's just me."

"San?" You spoke his name harshly due to his unorthodox way of announcing himself. "What's going on?"

Just as you asked the question, the room slowly lit as the lanterns sitting about grew brighter.

"It's a training room." He said with a smile.

"Why?"

"You seemed to be having trouble in charms class today. I thought I could help you."

You tried to hide the surprise on your face as you responded. "I don't need help."

"Alright. Show me the spell, then." He countered, crossing his arms.

"I will." You then proceeded to repeat the incantation after taking a few seconds to recall it.

"Now show me the wand movements." He instructed.

You were hesitant and San picked up on that.

"Go on." He prompted.

Heaving a sigh, you withdrew your wand and did the motions in a swift manner in hopes that he wouldn't notice any errors you made.

"Slower." He instructed.

Biting your bottom lip you slowed the movements down, San's eyes lingering on your hand.

"That's wrong."

Your arm dropped in defeat. "Okay, I don't quite understand the wand movement, so what?"

"You need help and you didn't ask for it today."

"I..." You trailed off, the rest of your sentence getting stuck in your throat. "I was embarrassed."

San's perfect brows raised. "Embarrassed? For needing help?"

"It's stupid, I know."

"It's not." He shook his head. "I get it."

You looked over at him, noticing the sincerity in his eyes.

"If you need help, I'm offering it. I know you'd rather it not be me, but if you're desperate enough for assistance then you'll take what you can get."

He was right. You silently cursed him for being so perceptive.

"Fine."

A pleased smile settled onto San's features at your answer.

"Alright, then. Try it one more time, but do it like this." He demonstrated the movements with his own wand, watching you repeat it.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, you practiced the spell until you had it perfect.

Despite how you felt about San, you thanked him for helping you. You weren't above being grateful when it mattered, even if the person that helped was someone that got on your nerves.

"We can meet up at our place whenever you need help." San offered while you both went on your way to your dormitory.

Your brows raised. "Our place?"

"Yeah." He grinned. "The training room."

"It's not our place."

He seemed to deflate a bit at that but was quick to brush it off, changing the subject.

"The sun doesn't go down for another hour and a half, I was thinking of practicing at the quidditch field again. You wanna come watch?"

"I'll pass."

He had been asking you every day if you wanted to watch him practice and you had no interest in doing so.

"I assumed as much." He gave a dry, half smile. "There's no harm in trying though."

3 days until quidditch championship

Your shoes brushed against the grass as you walked through it, the blades making a soft shiff sound in response to your feet moving past. Classes were done for the day and you decided to take a walk around the school grounds, enjoying the refreshing weather. Your brief journey led you to the quidditch field, your eyes unconsciously taking a glance towards it, catching sight of San flying around as one of his teammates, Jooyeon, watched from he ground. Based on the lack of players, it appeared San was doing a solo practice. Without realizing, you came to a stop watching the way San dodged the bludgers coming at him, whizzing through the air with ease. Moving closer to the arena's entrance you stood and observed, making sure you were hidden as your eyes followed San's figure zooming around the field on his broom.

As annoying as he sometimes was, he was a good quidditch player, that much you would admit. Not just that, but his determination to improve was somewhat admirable—you'd never say it out loud though.

All of a sudden, one of the bludgers rammed into him and nearly knocked him off his broom, his once solid form wavering. You recoiled, hissing slightly at the sight as you imagined how bad it must have hurt. He tried to recover, but appeared to be losing control of his broom, unable to get himself back on track, this causing him to tumble to the ground, rolling a few times before stopping, his body a lump on the grass.

"San!" You gasped, rushing out onto the field without giving it a second thought.

He winced as he rolled onto his back.

A feeling of guilt washed over you as you took in San's pained expression, part of you felt like you were to blame for this. You made that stupid deal with him and now he had pushed himself too far and gotten injured.

"Y/n?" San peeled one of his eyes open to look up at you before a cheeky smirk pulled at his lips. "So you did decide to come and watch."

"Don't be delusional. I was only passing by."

"Sure you were." He rolled his eyes with a sideways grin.

"Do you want help or not?" You asked, losing your patience.

"I'm fine." He assured you, pushing himself into a sitting position. "It's nothing a quick trip to the nurse won't fix."

"You need to be careful."

"I need to catch the snitch." He said, meeting your gaze, his sharp eyes full of determination.

It was in that moment you worried he would actually win.

"San! You alright?" Jooyeon ran over with a worried expression, his distressed gaze scanning over his older teammate, searching him for injuries.

"Yeah, I just hit the ground really hard." He responded, rubbing his shoulder.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing."

"Y/n can take me." San insisted.

"No. I have somewhere to be." You lied.

"Not anymore you don't."

Without a choice or a say in the matter, you pulled San's right arm over your shoulder and helped him up, noticing the way his face twisted as he got to his feet. Escorting San to the hospital wing was not how you planned to spend your afternoon.

He was quick to asses the fact that he hit his left shoulder pretty hard on the ground when he fell off his broom, hard enough for it to cause him pain when he moved it. The injury, though minor and easy to fix, was preventing him from getting the rest of his afternoon practice in which agitated him.

The only sound heard was two pairs of feet moving through the grass and the light breeze that blew past the trees on the school grounds, rustling their leaves.

"That was a nasty fall." You commented, needing to break the deafening silence that loomed in the air.

"Yeah. That bludger hit me pretty good. Usually I'm able to recover without any issues, but for some reason I couldn't this time. I guess you're a bad luck charm."

"Bad luck charm? Really?" You sarcastically responded.

"I mean, it happened when you were watching me. You never showed up to my other practices and I never had any accidents then."

"Then I'll be sure to watch you real good during the championship game."

Your jab meant nothing to him, in fact it made him laugh.

Once you dropped San off at the hospital wing, you allowed the nurse to take things from there and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" San asked.

Truthfully, you weren't sure.

"To the dormitory." You answered.

"Could you stay?"

Something in your gut told you to listen to him and for some odd reason the idea wasn't completely appalling.

"Alright." You caved, moving to sit on an empty bed beside the one San was occupying.

"What seems to be the problem?" The nurse asked him.

"I fell off my broom during quidditch practice. I hit the ground pretty hard and I think I may have injured my shoulder."

"Let's see." She began removing his gear, leaving him in his uniform pants and a black shirt.

She gingerly touched his shoulder, seeing if he reacted. When he didn't, she started moving it which is when San's face twisted in discomfort. After a moment, she nodded her head as if she figured out what the problem was.

"It seems you may have just bruised your shoulder, maybe even pulled a muscle during your fall. That's no problem, though. I'll heal it up right away."

You watched as she cast a spell, immediately healing his injured shoulder.

"Move your arm around for me, please." She requested.

San did as he was told, his eyes lighting up.

"All better." He smiled.

The whole visit took no time at all, you wondered why San even asked you to stay in the first place. Though, some part of you was glad he did. The thought of leaving him alone didn't quite feel right.

Once the nurse walked away, San jumped to his feet, rolling his shoulder to test it.

"Thank goodness it was just rough fall and a pulled muscle. If it were something more serious she might not have been able to heal it and then I couldn't play in the championship game." He went to grab his gear, sliding it back on.

"What do you think you're doing?" You asked.

"Going back out to practice."

"You just injured yourself."

"I'm all better. Everything is fine now." He paused, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You don't want me to practice because you don't want me to win the game. Is that it?"

"No. I just don't see why you're going back out there after getting healed. You should take it easy."

"Ah. So you're worried about me?"

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to." He grinned, sauntering out of the hospital ward.

As much as you wanted to try and stop him, you knew you couldn't. He was determined to get back out on that quidditch field and finish practice no matter what.

Later that night you lied in your canopy bed, staring at the green fabric draped over the wooden frame above. One thing you loved about the dormitories was how everyone got a canopy bed with curtains that could be drawn for privacy. During your spare time you'd sometimes come up to the bedrooms and lie down for a quick nap or just sit with the curtains pulled together while you wrote letters or did homework. The partial privacy the canopy beds gave you made you feel protected.

Tonight, however, your curtain-covered safe haven wasn't proving to give much solace as  thoughts of San swirled in your head, he was plaguing you and you hated it. You couldn't stop thinking about the way your heart clenched when you saw him fall off his broom earlier that day, the scene replaying in your head. You didn't say this aloud, but you were relieved he only pulled a muscle. If he'd gotten seriously injured you don't know what you would have done.

You paused, eyes going wide at your own thoughts. Why did you run out on that field? It's strange. You went out there without even thinking. As soon as San hit the ground you bolted towards him.

"No." You whispered out under your breath.

There's no way you were entertaining the idea of actually liking San. He got hurt, you were worried. That's all. This was just concern masquerading as attraction, you were sure of it.

1 day until quidditch championship

The light gray clouds hung low in the sky, moving languidly across your vision as you lounged in the courtyard. It was an overcast day which was fairly common here at Hogwarts. You didn't mind it.

Your eyelids slid closed as a long relaxing breath was let out through your nostrils, the comfortably cool breeze caressing your cheeks.

A few blissful moments passed before you heard someone walking through the grass, the sound seeming to be close by. However, you decided not to open your eyes, until you heard someone clear their throat, that is.

You peeled one of your eyes open, finding San standing over you, very clearly holding something behind his back.

"What is it?" You asked with a sigh, mildly annoyed that he disrupted your leisure time.

"Sorry to bother you." He apologized, seeming to be aware of your irritation. "I got these for you."

He held out a bouquet of red roses, his eyes staying glued to the blades of grass below as he avoided eye contact, waiting for you to take them.

The sudden gift made you scramble to your feet to get a closer look at the blooms.

"I hope roses are alright. You never told me what your favorite flower was and these are the default."

"Where'd you get these?" You asked.

"It doesn't matter." He responded, still avoiding eye contact.

You'd never seen San act this way before. Usually he was boisterous, overly-confident, and obnoxious. Now, he was shy, almost nervous and much quieter than usual.

Carefully, you took the flowers from him, turning the cluster of blooms in your hands, seeing the way they were tied together by twine, the stems appearing to be thorn-free.

San nervously fiddled with his hands, that's when you could see scratches across his knuckles and the tops of his hands, a couple bandages wrapped around his fingers.

Your expression softened as did your heart.

You cleared your throat, murmuring a quiet thank you under your breath.

"Yeah. You're welcome." He rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous manner. "Well, I'm gonna stop intruding on your alone time now."

With that, he turned around and started walking away. You almost called out for him, asking for him to stop and maybe even join you, but your words were stuck and died on your tongue before you could utter them.

You stood amongst your fellow housemates, watching the field below. Some students around you had signs with players' numbers on it while others had little pompoms with the Slytherin house colors on it, shaking them excitedly. It was a big day and the entire school was buzzing with energy. You on the other hand were nervous. Not only was this the championship game in which you and San's little deal depended on, but one that was between the houses with the longest running rivalry; Slytherin vs Gryffindor. Of course, you wanted your house to win, but if they did that meant you had to go on a date with San and you still weren't keen on the idea.

The players stepped out onto the field sporting their respective house colors, gathering around the referee and taking their places. The quaffle was tossed into the air and the game began. One of the players on the Slytherin team was quick to grab it, zooming towards Gryffindor's goal, but it wasn't that easy. A bludger was hit towards the Slytherin player by someone on the opposing team, but he was quick to dodge it as Slytherin's beater, Jooyeon, came in and hit it back towards Gryffindor at the last second.

It was when you saw a small golden sphere whiz by that your breath hitched. Your eyes followed it as San flew after it.

No, no, no. You thought to yourself.

He reached his hand out for it, but was hit in the side by Gryffindor's seeker.

You breathed a silent sigh of relief.

The game went on and both teams were doing incredibly well, the score staying close the entire time. Your upper body leaned over the wooden railing of the stands, watching anxiously as Gryffindor's seeker and San were side-by-side chasing after the snitch. The latter appeared to be ahead by a hair, his fingers almost touching the golden sphere.

"Go San!" You shouted impulsively.

You were quick to silence yourself. Why were you cheering? If San caught the snitch you would have to go on a date with him.

It was at that moment the snitch darted to the side, disappearing from San and the Gryffindor player's sight, which brought you a little relief.

He won't catch it. You thought. It's too difficult.

But he's been practicing a lot. You noted just a second later.

That little revelation was enough to have you worried all over again. That feeling multipled tenfold when San found the golden snitch and was hot on its trail once again. Even from your vantage point you could see the spark of determination in his eyes and that terrified you.

When he was close enough, he extended his hand, reaching towards the golden snitch while he tried to keep his broom steady with the other hand. You caught sight of Gryffindor's seeker coming up behind San, your nails unconsciously digging into the wooden railing. Moving your gaze back to San, you saw how focused he was, a feeling of dread washing over you. He whizzed all over the field, dodging bludgers and other players, sharp eyes fixed on the snitch. In the blink of an eye, San snatched the flying sphere from the air and the game was over.

"Choi San has just caught the golden snitch! Slytherin wins!" The announcer exclaimed causing the entire section to erupt in cheers.

Your heart dropped to your feet. He caught it.

San caught the golden snitch. Slytherin won the quidditch cup. The students around you screamed and cheered in celebration while you stood frozen and unmoving, your mind processing what had just happened.

You were only humoring him when you made that stupid deal, you didn't think he'd actually win. But now that it had happened, you realized you had to keep your end of the bargain.

You left the stands, keeping your eyes down hoping that you could slip out of the stadium without being noticed.

"Well, well, well." San smirked, walking towards you triumphantly.

"Don't rub it in."

"As bad as I want to, I won't."

"You know, I didn't even want to do this."

"I know, which is why I've decided something. You keep your end of the deal and go on a date with me, then afterwards if you really don't feel anything for me I'll leave you alone."

Your brows raised slightly.

"You're serious?"

"Very."

"Okay." You nodded. "That's fair."

"Great. Meet me outside the school's entrance tomorrow at noon."

A vague feeling of dread creeped up on you as you stepped outside the school, hoping you wouldn't regret your decision to keep your word.

"You're right on time."

San was standing not too far from where you were, giving a friendly wave as you approached him.

"Alright. What's the plan?" You asked, noticing the broom in his hand.

"I'm glad you asked." He grinned while he straddled the handle. "Get on."

You hesitantly slung your leg over, standing behind San.

"You'll have to get closer than that."

You stepped forward, chest pressing against his back.

"Have you ever ridden a broom before, pretty?" He asked.

You ignored the way the nickname made your stomach flip and answered his question.

"Only once during first year when we were learning how to use them."

"Hold on tight."

You barely had time to wrap your arms around his waist before the broom lifted off the ground. San angled the stick upwards, lifting the both of you higher into the air making your anxiety skyrocket.

Your hold on his slim midriff tightened as he flew around the school, your face pressing closer to his back as you fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and shield yourself from the heart-stopping view below.

"There's no need to be scared, Y/n." He told you. "You're safe with me."

You hoped that was true.

Lifting your head, you peered over San's shoulder, looking out at the view of the lake sitting below Hogwarts. The outlook from above was incredible and helped distract you from being so nervous.

"It's pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah." You breathed. "It is."

"See? This isn't so bad."

"I guess not."

After making his way around the castle, San landed on a flat area on the roof of the school, which you were partially relived about, thankful to be on solid ground again.

"The roof?" You questioned, glancing around at the empty area while San set his broom aside.

"Just wait." He grinned excitedly, moving over and grabbing something that you clearly couldn't see.

He pulled back on the unseen object, revealing a picnic setup.

"Ta-da." He beamed, gesturing to the arrangement.

"You had an invisibility cloak? How did you manage to get your hands on that?"

"I have connections." He shrugged. "C'mon. Have a seat."

Obliging, you made yourself comfortable on the blanket he had laid out, getting a look at all the snacks he prepared.

A small array of fresh fruit, sandwiches, and small desserts were spread out before you, even a couple bottles of fizzy sodas. You didn't want to say it aloud, but you were impressed. He really went all out for this.

"Would you like one?" San offered you a plate of small sandwiches.

You obliged, plucking one from the saucer and having a taste. Your brows raised in astonishment.

"Where did you get these?"

"I got permission from the kitchen staff to prepare all of this."

"You made these?"

He nodded, mentally fist pumping in celebration, thanking Wooyoung for teaching him how to prepare the sandwiches.

His dedication was, in a way, endearing and made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, your heart fluttering slightly.

"Is there anything you'd like? I can fix you a plate." He offered.

You accepted his offer and told him what you'd like, watching as he piled the plate with food. He handed you your platter with a smile, grabbing a bottle of soda.

"A drink for the lady."

Either he was really turning up the charm for this date, or he was actually a nice person and you severely misjudged him—you feared it was the latter.

"Thank you for agreeing to this." San gave you a dimpled grin, his cheeks painted a light shade of pink.

"Yeah, you're welcome." You spoke quietly, popping the top on your drink using a simple spell. "It's nicer than I expected."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The both of you sat in silence for a few moments as you quietly snacked on fruit and took a sip of your drink.

"Thanks for the flowers." You spoke up suddenly. "And also for removing the thorns."

San appeared stunned at your words.

"You picked them yourself, didn't you?"

"How'd you know?" He asked.

"I saw your scraped knuckles and bandaged fingers."

He pressed his lips together, unconsciously fiddling with his fingers that were still healing.

"You're welcome. I hope roses were alright."

"They were. I really liked them, actually."

"You did?"

You nodded. "They're in a vase beside my bed."

Hearing that made San's heart soar. You'd always shown so much disinterest in him, but knowing you kept the roses he picked for you, in a vase no less, made him giddy. Maybe you didn't dislike him as much as he originally assumed.

"Would you like dessert?"

"Did you make this stuff too?" You questioned, reaching for one of the confectionery treats.

"Unfortunately no, just the sandwiches. I'm sure that makes all of this less impressive."

"It doesn't." You responded, taking one of the tiny sweets from the plate San had offered you.

San packed up the empty plates and other leftovers placing them into a basket, casting a spell to make it compact and easy to carry.

"We have to get back down and there's only one way." He stated, picking up his broom.

You peered over the edge of the roof, looking down at the ground below.

"You're not scared, are you?" San asked almost teasingly.

"No." You denied. "I can handle it."

"Get on, then."

You took your place behind him on the broomstick once again, this time feeling more comfortable wrapping your arms around him, the closeness making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The descent from the roof to the ground wasn't as terrifying as you expected it to be. As soon as you landed, both you and San headed back towards the school, though a part of you didn't want the date to end.

"I have a confession." You spoke up.

San's gaze landed on you upon hearing the word confession, giving you his undivided attention.

"The date was..." You hesitated.

San's eyebrows raised.

"I enjoyed it." You finally admitted. "I was impressed with everything."

His eyes softened as a gentle smile spread across his lips, thought his heart was doing flips. "I was hoping you'd say that. So, what's the verdict?"

"Verdict?" You echoed.

"Yeah. How do you feel about me?"

The question alone put you on edge. How did you feel about San? He was so charming during the date and you couldn't deny that you had some sort of attraction towards him.

"Well, I don't dislike you." Was what you decided to say.

That made San chuckle. "So that means you like me?"

"I suppose it does."

"The real question is, do you like me enough to want to go on another date?"

It only took a couple seconds for you to answer.

"Yes."

"Can I escort you back to the dorms?"

"I'd like that."

The walk back inside the school was a quiet one, assumably because you were both feeling a bit shy after your confession. Truthfully, you were kicking yourself for constantly brushing him off, wondering why you hadn't given San the time of day sooner. He wasn't nearly as obnoxious as you originally thought he was.

You were so lost in thought, you didn't realize you'd already arrived at the Slytherin dorms until you heard San speak the password to get inside. He escorted you through the common room to where the girls' dorms were located, standing awkwardly outside the door, his face red. You turned to him, waiting to see what it was he had to say.

"Is it okay if I give you a kiss on the cheek?" He finally asked.

"Yes."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek in a gentle manner, the moment not lasting long enough. When he pulled away he was unable to hold eye contact, bidding you a shy farewell before scurrying away.

Your eyes scanned the hallway warily as the secret entrance to the training room slid open. Giving one last glance to your surroundings, you stepped inside, the already dim room shrouding in darkness as the entrance closed.

Your back immediately hit the wall as a pair of lips landed on yours, a set of hands squeezing your waist, keeping you pinned to the brick wall. Knowing exactly who it was, you welcomed the display of affection and kissed back. Your fingers tangled themselves in San's black hair, tugging at the strands any time his teeth latched onto your bottom lip, eliciting a string of blissful sighs from you. His actions made your mind foggy and your face hot, his kisses feverish and desperate.

You tugged his robe off, hands groping his arms, feeling his strong biceps under the fabric of his school uniform.

San parted ways, giving you only a few seconds to catch your breath before taking it away again by reattaching his lips to your neck. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your sensitive skin, sending a wave of chills down your spine. Your fingers unconsciously curled at the base of his neck. The feeling of your nails dragging against San's scalp elicited a low groan from him, the sound vibrating against your skin and making your eyelids flutter slightly.

When he finally pulled away, you noticed the lanterns inside the secret training room had lit up, wondering when that happened. San rested his forehead with yours, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes.

"I wasn't sure you'd show." He said breathlessly, his chest moving up and down with each huff.

"Why? You asked me to meet you here. Plus, this is our spot, isn't it?"

His eyes widened as a bright grin broke out across his face.

"You called it our place."

"Yeah, I know." You lightly rolled your eyes, huffing out a chuckle.

San had a game in an hour, so you were glad you got to spend some time with him prior, but part of you was selfish and wanted to spend the rest of the day with him.

"Good luck at your quidditch game today." You told San, cupping his cheek. "You're gonna need it."

"I don't need luck."

"I don't know." You trailed off. "Ever since we started dating you haven't been practicing as hard since there's nothing to win."

He smirked, pulling you flush against him. "That's because I've already got my prize."

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

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[storiesforallfandoms]

he already has my approval ~ taron egerton

word count: 4393

request?: no

description: in which her dad keeps trying to set her up with her celebrity crush, who just so happens to be playing him in a biopic

pairing: taron egerton x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

The first time I met Taron was on the red carpet for Kingsman: The Golden Circle, and it did not go as well as I had wished it would’ve.

I had seen the first movie in theaters when it came out and immediately developed a crush on Eggsy, and, in turn, on his actor Taron. When dad was offered a cameo in the sequel, I think I was more excited than he was. I begged dad basically every day to let me go to set with him, but I was in college at the time and neither of my dads would let me miss that much time to travel just to meet my celebrity crush. It felt unfair at the time, but they had a point in the long run.

When the day of the premiere came around, dad took me as his plus one to the red carpet. I was buzzing with excitement the entire day as dad’s stylists came in to help us get ready for the night, but the minute our ride pulled up to the red carpet my excitement turned to nervousness. There was no reason for me to be so nervous. I had been to huge events like this before, and of course I had met famous people plenty of times. But there was something about meeting my actual celebrity crush that made me feel like a high schooler who was about to go on her first date.

Dad introduced me to Taron, because of course he did. Fatherhood never changed who dad was, and he was shithead, cocky, lived to tease everyone in his life Elton John. I always knew it was a bad idea to tell dad about my crush on Taron, but I never regretted it more than when I heard him shout across the red carpet, “Taron, darling, come here!”

He looked like the most handsome man in the entire world dressed in his suit, his smile lighting up his face as he approached us. That moment was when I realized he was real. He wasn’t just a character on my screen; he was an actual real person. And now he was stood in front of me. So close that I could smell his cologne, and boy, did it ever smell good.

“Taron, I want you to meet my daughter (Y/N),” dad said, gesturing to me. I was still in such awe by his beauty that I almost forgot who I even was.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/N),” Taron said as he shook my hand. “Elton has spoke very highly of you.”

My brain was definitely short circuiting. Hearing him say my name was one thing, but then for him to also say that he’s heard a lot about me from dad also contributed to it. When I realized I was just stood there staring at him like an idiot, I felt embarrassment wash over me. I tried to force myself to say something, but it was like I completely forgot how to speak English.

“She’s a little shy because she has a crush on you.”

I turned to look at dad in disbelief. If there was a higher power, They would do me a favor and open up the floor to swallow me whole and take me away from this entire situation.

I made my escape before Taron could say anything. I turned away from the two of them and walked away as quickly as possible.

The memory haunted my nightmares for a while afterwards. Even after I managed to forget about it for the most part, the intrusive thought would pop into my mind from time to time just to make me cringe. I could barley ever watch Taron’s movies anymore without thinking about that moment, which was hard since I still had such a big crush on him.

A year later, I was on set with dad and papa for the movie papa was producing about dad. Papa was so excited, as he was making the movie as a gift to dad. Papa had complete creative freedom and dad was able to give as much input as he wanted. When filming started, the two of them wanted to bring me, Zachary, and Elijah on set to watch some of the filming. They hadn’t told me much about the movie just yet, but papa’s excitement was contagious enough that I was feeling it, too.

“We’re filming the Troubadour scene today,” papa was telling us. “Full 70s aesthetic. You guys are gonna feel like you were really there to see your dad’s first ever solo performance.”

“Do I get any 70s outfits once you guys are done filming?” I asked.

“Darling, you know we have a closet full of all my favorite outfits from those days,” dad said. “You’re free to go through it as you please. It’ll be the real deal, not some cheaply made replicas.”

“Hey! You’re the one who approved of Taron’s wardrobe!” papa said with a chuckle.

The mention of his name made me stop in my tracks. “Wait...whose wardrobe?”

Both of them looked at me, confused by my reaction. “Taron, honey,” papa said. “That’s who’s playing dad in the movie. You didn’t know that?”

Memories from the year before came rushing back. I could not see him again or else I may just turn into an embarrassment puddle at his feet. I especially couldn’t be here with dad and have a potential repeat of the situation.

As if reading my thoughts, dad walked up to me and gently took my hand in his. “Honey, it’s been a year. He’s not going to remember.”

“But what if he does?” I asked. “God, he probably thinks I’m crazy after our first encounter. I can’t watch the filming.”

“Hey, hey, calm down sweetheart,” papa said. “You’re working yourself up. It’s okay. If you feel uncomfortable you don’t have to watch, but I don’t think it’ll be as bad as you’re expecting.”

I took a couple deep breaths to calm myself down. I wanted to be there and support both of my dads on this project they were both so excited over. I knew they were right and Taron likely didn’t even remember our first encounter, but I still couldn’t shake this pre-embarrassment feeling about seeing him again.

I sucked it up and followed them to the Troubadour set. There were many extras dressed in 70s clothes standing around the stage. The general murmur of the crowd turned into an excited one as people began to notice dad walking onto the set. I couldn’t see Taron anywhere, but I did recognize Richard Madden talking to the movie’s director, Dex Fletcher. Zachary was tightly holding my hand, trying to hide behind me. I knew the crowd was likely making him nervous, so I squeezed his hand and picked him up.

“Lead actor walking the set!”

I felt my body tense as everyone turned to see Taron taking the stage. He was wearing a pair of white overalls and a navy blue shirt with silver stars. He had on a wig that looked like dad’s hair from this time period and a pair of thick framed glasses that matched his overalls. He looked really good, even if he was dressed as my dad.

It took my brain a moment to register that he was walking towards us. I felt the panic return, but I tried my best to play it cool.

“It’s like looking in a mirror,” dad said as he embraced Taron. “I still have this outfit I’m pretty sure. I was just telling (Y/N) that I still have all my favorite outfits back home going all the way back to this very first performance.”

At the mention of my name, Taron’s eyes landed on me. I tried not to crumple under his gaze, and kept the smile on my face.

“Hey,” Taron said. “Good to see you again.”

“Good to see you, too,” I said, surprisingly myself with how confident i sounded.

“Who is this little guy?” Taron asked, referring to Zachary. The young boy buried his face in my neck, peaking one eye up at Taron.

“This is Zachary,” I said. “Z, this is Taron. Doesn’t he look like daddy?”

Taron struck a pose for Zachary, who seemed to warm up slightly but not a lot.

“What do you think, Elijah?” papa asked the youngest boy. “Do you think Taron looks like daddy?”

Elijah shook his head. “Daddy is old!”

We burst out into laughter as dad gave Elijah a mocked offended look. Elijah squealed as dad picked him up and began tickling his sides. Zachary was still a bit hesitant, but I could feel his body shaking as he chuckled in my arms.

“Come on, Rocket Man, we gotta start filming,” Dex called to Taron.

Taron made his way onto the set stage. Quiet was called and a hush fell over the room. The minute Dex called action, music filled the silence. One of dad’s songs, his least favorite yet one of his most popular ones, began to play. Except it wasn’t dad singing it, it was Taron’s voice. I was a little shocked to hear him singing instead of there being a backing track of dad’s music, but I had to admit he was an amazing singer. It was a fantastic choice they made. His singing voice was amazing and it made the movie have more of a fantastical musical vibe, instead of just a movie with dad’s voice dubbed over for the music.

I tried to get Zachary out of his shell more by dancing with him while the music was playing. We were not strangers to dad’s music. The three of us had seen dad perform on numerous occasions. I figured the familiarity of the music, plus the goofy dancing would definitely help with his nervousness. And I was right for the most part; Zachary came out of his nervous cocoon eventually and started dancing with me. By the time Dex called cut on the scene, Zachary felt comfortable enough to be put back down on to the floor and followed dad and papa to meet Jamie Bell, who was playing Uncle Bernie.

“Seems he enjoyed the show.”

I jumped at the sound of Taron’s voice so suddenly. He was laughing at my reaction as I turned back to him, my heart beating a million beats per second just having him so close to me.

“I think he just needed some time to warm up to being around so many people,” I said. “Usually when we go to dad’s shows we’re in a special VIP area where it’s just the three of us and papa, so he’s not used to so many people and so much attention being on him.”

“I get that. He’s only young. Doesn’t fully understand how well loved his dad is.”

“I don’t think I even fully understand it, and I’m in my mid 20s,” I said.

Taron chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile too. The realization of his realness was starting to wash over me again. He was actually here, stood in front of me, talking to me. He was a real person!

“Listen,” Taron said, “I wanted to talk about the first time we met.”

I felt my heart drop to my stomach. I tried not to let my embarrassment show too much. Maybe if I pretended I didn’t even remember, we could just move on from the entire situation and pretend like it never happened.

“I’m sorry it went the way that it did,” he continued. “I know you were embarrassed about what your dad said. I know Elton meant no harm, and he was just trying to tease you because...well, he’s Elton John, but it really wasn’t fair of him to say that to me when we were first meeting. I could tell by your face that that wasn’t exactly the way you wanted our first meeting to go.”

I was a little surprised by what he was saying. I don’t know why I was expecting for him to say something that would make the situation worse, like maybe calling me out on my crush and saying something about it. He seemed like a really nice guy, not the type to make someone feel bad. But I guess, after having an entire year to let that embarrassing moment stew, I just expected the worst if I ever met him again.

“I appreciate you saying that,” I said. “It definitely was not the way I wanted to meet the guy I had such a big crush on. I think dad expects stuff like that to wash over me like water off a duck’s back because of who he is and how many famous people I’ve met and am close to, but his status never makes those types of interactions easier. Again, especially when meeting someone that I was crushing so hard on.”

Taron was giving me a look that I wasn’t sure how to read at first. “Was?”

My brows furrowed together. “Hmm?”

“You said ‘someone I was crushing on’. As in you’re not anymore?”

I wasn’t sure why that was the part he was focusing on. I opened my mouth to respond, but Dex called to Taron again. Taron looked at me and winked behind the thick framed glasses before making his way back to set to start filming again. And it was with that wink that I could not handle anymore and finally had to sit myself down.

~~~~~~

I kept coming to set the next few weeks. At first it was only one day out of the week for a couple of hours, but soon enough I was tagging along with dad and papa every day. I tried to tell them it was because I was enjoying watching the movie being filmed, and getting to relive these big moments with dad, but they both knew that wasn’t the truth. They knew I was going because I wanted to see Taron.

We had gotten to talking a lot in between takes when I was on set. About everything and anything really. It started with just getting to know each other, but eventually it blossomed into talking about whatever was on our minds. Sometimes it was about the movie, sometimes it wasn’t. Either way, we just got to know one another. And eventually, my “celebrity crush” became a real one.

I knew my dads could see what was going on, but they didn’t bring it up. I figured that was mostly because of how my first interaction with Taron went and dad didn’t want to risk embarrassing me like that again. Which, I did appreciate. I felt like a friendship was being built with Taron and I didn’t want that to be risked with fatherly embarrassment to the extreme, even though I knew that wasn’t dad’s intentions.

One day, we walked on set and I was surprised to see Taron was nowhere in sight. Instead, we walked into a setup that looked like great grandma Ivy’s apartment that I had seen in plenty of dad’s baby pictures. There were three different actors than normal on set, one I recognized as Bryce Dallas Howard and one young boy I recognized to be dressed up the way dad had been when he was that age. I realized pretty quickly that today was probably mostly shooting scenes of flashbacks from dad’s childhood, which caused me to feel disappointed realizing that I likely wouldn’t be seeing Taron today.

I was sat in my usual seat (because yes, I had visited so often that I was given a seat with my name on it) watching the set up for the scene when dad came over and sat next to me, dramatically sighing as his body settled into the chair.

“These old bones can hardly sit down anymore,” he said.

I smiled at him. “Oh, please. You’re hardly that old, dad. Besides, we both know that after everything you’ve gone through, you’re going to outlive us all.”

“A man can only hope.” We laughed together. Dad put an arm around my shoulder and leaned into me. “Taron’s in his trailer, you know.”

“Oh?” I said, hoping I didn’t seem as excited by this information as I was. “He’s filming later on then?”

“Yeah, way later on this evening. David said that Taron showed up way earlier than he needed to claiming that he thought his call time was this morning, not this evening.” I raised an eyebrow at him, silently telling him to say whatever it was he was trying to say. “I don’t think that was the case, though.”

“Clearly.”

“I think he came here early hoping to see you.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “I think you’re being a little ambitious there dad.”

“About as ambitious as I would be to say that you show up every day so you can see him, too?” When I didn’t respond to that, dad just laughed. “I see things, (Y/N). My eyes may be old, but they can still see things that no one else sees.”

“And what is it that you see with me and Taron?”

“I see a young man who is enamored by a young woman, and a young woman who feels the same way. I also see two cowards who are too afraid to confess their feelings to one another.”

I playfully nudged him with my elbow, to which he dramatically clutched his stomach and acted like I had shot him or something.

“I’m not saying that Taron feels anything for me,” I said, “because I don’t think he does. I think he’s just being friendly with someone that he considers to be a friend. But, if what you’re saying is right and he does have romantic interest in me, maybe the reason why he won’t admit it is because he’s too afraid to? I mean, my dad is Elton John after all. That’s a pretty big name to have as a potential father-in-law.”

“Hey now, I didn’t say anything about marrying you off to the man.” I smiled and shook my head. This really was just an every day thing with dad. He loved being a father, but I think he loved being a nuisance more than that. Papa always warned him he would regret that when Zachary, Elijah, and I started to pick up on his habits. “But both of you know that Taron has my approval if he does want to pursue you romantically. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have even been cast in this movie!”

“You cast him because he’s a good actor!”

“Oh, that was only part of it. The other part was so that you two could have a do-over with your meeting, since I ruined the last one.”

I put my head on dad’s shoulder. “You didn’t ruin it. You just embarrassed me beyond belief, but that’s what a father does.”

Dad gave me a small squeeze before pulling me away from him. “Go to his trailer. Have a few moments alone.”

“Give you a few grandkids?”

He pushed me away, which caused me to laugh hysterically.

“Darling, I may be old but I am certainly not that old,” he said. “And, again, I said I approve of him. Not that you two need to get married and pop out babies right away. Go on a few dates first, for the love of God.”

I stood from my chair, still laughing. Dad tried to glare at me, but he couldn’t. This was just our relationship.

I made my way out of the set before they started filming so that I wouldn’t be disrupting anything. All the trailers were grouped together in the lot, luckily with signs on them to label what or whose trailer they were. Taron’s was the furthest on the lot, with a theatrical gold star stuck to the door with his name on it. Part of me figured this was dad’s doing, but the other part of me would believe that it was Dex’s doing, too. Papa truly couldn’t have chosen a better director to capture dad’s personality and aesthetic than Dex.

My heart was pounding so loud that I thought Taron would hear it before I even knocked. I took a deep breath and pushed myself to knock before I got too nervous and ran away instead. There was a brief rustling in the trailer before the door opened, revealing Taron in a pair of black and gold hot pants, a gold jacket that was left unzipped so I could see his entire torso and chest, and heeled shoes with gold tips and gold wings on the side. I wasn’t sure where to look first. My eyes naturally lingered on his chest, his coarse chest hair a welcoming sight, but I couldn’t help but glance lower at his thighs in those hot pants, too. Not to mention the bulge -

“Shit,” Taron breathed, a panicked look in his eyes. “Sorry, uh, I didn’t expect...I thought it might’ve been someone from the set. I’m just...uh...”

“In costume, I would assume,” I said, trying to pretend like I was looking at his shoes and not another area lower on his body.

“Yeah,” he said. His face was starting to turn bright read. “It’s for a scene later on...way later on. I’m - I was early today, so they already put me through costume and makeup.” He cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair. “Do you, um, do you want to come in?”

I nodded, unsure if I could even form any words. He stepped aside to let me into his trailer. He still looked flustered by my sudden appearance, which I thought was cute.

“Don’t be sorry, by the way,” I told him. “I don’t mind this eye full that I’m getting. Quite the opposite, really.”

That only made him more flustered, and I couldn’t help but smirk at that reaction.

“You’re a lot like your dad,” he commented. “He said something similar while we were filming Kingsman a few years ago.”

“We Furnish-Johns have good taste in men.”

I sat down on the couch of his trailer and he sat across from me. I tried not to be too obvious with my gawking, but it was hard not to look at him. God, was he ever attractive. And here he was, sat next to me, practically naked, and all flustered because I had caught him this way. I felt like I should be feeling a similar way, but knowing that I was the one who had made him feel that way just made me feel so cocky instead.

“I didn’t think you were on set today,” I told him. “I showed up and didn’t see you or Jamie or Richard.”

“We’re filming a couple smaller scenes later on to end the day. Dex wanted to film all of the flashback shots of your dad before he was Elton John today, just to get that out of the way.”

“You got here really early for that. It’s not even noon, and your scenes are this evening papa said.”

Taron shrugged. “I got the wrong call time.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “By over 12 hours?”

He shrugged again, but didn’t offer any further explanation.

I took a deep breath, once again willing that cockiness to stay long enough so that I could say what I wanted to say without losing my nerve. “Remember the first day on set where we talked about the first time we met, and you made a point of asking me about my crush on you.”

Taron nodded. “Yeah. You made it seem like you didn’t feel that way anymore.”

“Yeah, I did. Because I thought I would scare you away if I admitted that I did still like you that way.” I was moving towards him now, closing the already smaller space between us. “That I do still like you that way, if you get what I’m saying.”

We were so close that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. He was looking down at me in a way that I could only ever dream of having Taron Egerton look at me like. It was like the movies I had seen him in, except this was real life and the person he was looking at was actually me.

“I think I understand,” he said. “But just in case, is it okay if I do an experiment just to be sure?”

I giggled. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

He placed a finger under my chin and tilted my head back until I was looking up at him. He leaned forward at an agonizing pace before his lips finally pressed against mine. It felt like the entire world around us paused in that moment. I had to restrain myself from getting onto his lap and deepening the kiss, even though I wanted to so badly. I wanted to spend the next few hours in this trailer with him, not even letting him leave to go film. I wanted to be tangled up with him and never let him go ever again.

The kiss ended far too soon. When Taron pulled away, I tried to chase his lips to pull him back to me. He chuckled at my eagerness, allowing his lips to press against mine for a quick peck.

“Let me take you out before we get too hot and heavy,” he told me. “I want to take you on a proper date.”

“I guess we should do that before I jump your bones,” I teased. “But you do still have quite some time till your call time. If you’d like company while you wait, I wouldn’t mind staying here with you for a while. Especially if you’re going to be dressed like that the whole time.”

Taron’s face turned red again as he looked down at himself, almost like he forgot what he had been wearing. “Might be too tempting for you.”

“It definitely will be. But I will respect your virtue and not try to deflower you in your trailer.”

He buried his face in his hands. “Oh my God! What have I gotten myself into here?”

“Something pretty great, if you ask me.”

[kcwriter-blog]

Thanks for Thinking of Solavellan

I’ve been seeing a lot of posts directed at Solavellans by kind, caring people who want to make sure we temper our expectations. After 10 years of being treated like dirt by the fandom, it’s so nice to have so many people take an interest in us, to the point of compassionately telling us that we aren’t going to get much content, as sad as that may be. I can’t speak for all Solavellans but I wanted to let everyone know why they don’t have to worry about me at least:

We are grown ups

We are adults, well versed in managing our expectations. In fact, most of us hold down jobs, take care of our families and live our lives. Are we excited that our Inquisitors will be in the game? Of course. Do we expect them to be the central character? Of course not. We understand that Rook is the star of the show. We are busy planning our Rooks and deciding which romances to pursue. We are trying to decide what class and faction to play just like everyone else. Are we excited about what we know about Solas so far? Yes. If Dorian is announced to be in the game, as seems likely, I’m sure people will be equally excited and talking about what they hope to see.

We know Solavellan content will not be the focus

See above but also, we are used to having less content. We have the least amount of romance content in DAI. In Trespasser everyone got to talk to their Lis throughout the game. We had a 15-minute conversation at the end. Most players got a resolution to their romances. Like all Inquisitors, our Lavellans are kind of in limbo where Solas is concerned. The fact that we are making Inquisitors in the character creator tells me that all Inquisitors will have at least one confrontation with Solas and Rook will probably be part of that. Those will differ depending on whether you want to stop him at all costs, redeem him or want to redeem him and romanced him. This was done in Trespasser. If they can find the time and money to put three paths of 15-minute conversation in a ten-hour game, they can do the same for a 70-hour game. That’s not a lot of content but it is sure to be impactful and we will be happy with it.

We are no different in voicing our hopes than anyone else

I have seen plenty of posts where people that romanced Dorian want to have a tender moment between their Inquisitors and him. I fully support their hopes. I want that to happen for them. Other hopes expressed are the return of Cullen, the return of the Hero of Fereldan, Fenris and Merril cameos, etc. All are expressed in terms of “I hope” or “I will riot if it doesn’t happen.” To be honest, I feel sad for those poor souls because no one is telling them to temper their expectations. Does the fandom not care about their health and well-being? We are expressing our hopes and wishes. Do we think we will get all of it? Of course not. We are, as I said before, adults.

We Think We Will Rescue Solas

Honestly? We hope we can be a part of that, but it is just hope. It is more likely that Rook will break him out of prison. Maybe the Inquisitor will get to help – the way Hawk and the Warden Companion did in DAI – but if not, there will probably be some sort of confrontation. Rook may ask the Inquisitor’s opinion about Solas and the answer will depend on the Inquisitor’s relationship with Solas but that may be all.

We have too many unrealistic expectation

Please don’t think that we expect everything we want to happen to be in the game. We are aware that a lot of our hopes are not going to be realized. To be honest, we are already surprised that some of those hopes are figuring in the game. Keep in mind that for 10 years we thought our only interaction with him would be to make sure he didn’t die alone. We recognize we are a small group and so does BioWare. Yes, we have indulged our brain rot and obsession with art and fiction but that’s just us. We don’t expect it to show up in the game. If it does, we will be excited. If it doesn’t, we will shrug our shoulders and go back to drawing and writing.

We are talking amongst ourselves

We are talking to other Solavellans. Solavellan has become a tight-knit community over the years because of what we’ve had to put up with. Anders fans can probably relate. We are not talking to the DA community at large. Most of us don’t interact with the larger DA community because of everything that has been said over the years. We talk to and support each other. If you aren’t a Solavellan, feel free to scroll past our posts or even block us if you think we are too loud or annoying. You won’t hurt our feelings.

I’m sure other Solavellans can add to this or mention things I’ve forgotten. Again, don’t worry about us. We will be fine.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Friends in the Crucible

MOTA PACIFIC THEATRE || FLIGHT SURGERY AU

1: Welcome to Hell Island

Requested by the sweet @forsythiagalt

AU NOTE: due to a long-standing crush on real life heroine Ensign Jane Kendeigh and her work on Iwo Jima, the current ongoing anniversary of the battle and a hope to not step on the toes of any existing Nurse!xBuck pairings -I’ve gone with what excited my imagination the most and created an entire Pacific AU with our MOTA boys. If this AU ends up being as interesting and stimulating to y’all as it was for me in writing it, I’d be terribly down for exploring more scenarios with everyone in their new and varied roles.

Main paring: Gale Cleven and OC Flight Nurse Ensign Maureen Kendeigh…cameos by “Doc” Egan, John Brady, Ken Lemmons, Harry Crosby and Benny Demarco…and maybe a nod to a certain Marine Captain named “Andy” who I refused to let die, even though he was never on this island. You neither need to have seen HBO’s Pacific or know about the history for this to make sense, in fact it might help my ignorant writing go down better without it 😏

Warnings: WAR?! Graphic descriptions of wounds, battlefields, gore, foul language, period typical language: use of the word “Jap” and a joking insult of “fish eater” for a Catholic. Hints that John Egan is a terror to his nurses, Cleven having to take his pants off for a wound to be examined, brief mentions and emphasis on his never having been touched by a woman intimately, a nurse positioning a man’s member out of the way to his surprise, strictly professional tho. No joke, really. But they’re having a bit of a moment.

Only proof read once. So many thanks to Bee, Christi and Ashley who all enabled me into going this rogue with a simple request and for giving edits and assurances. Hope y’all enjoy!

There were a whole lotta jolts in the descent. Of course there were. Why, there were jolts and bumps even coming down to the runway at Pearl or San Diego, and there had been far more than jolts on the training tarmacs in Kentucky. She had been in enough planes, experienced enough banging about, and had enough wheels up landings that Maureen felt somewhat entitled to her opinion on the necessity of jolts or none.

So far, Major Gale Cleven had piloted this monstrous tin can like a limo, smooth, steady and with full warning for each bank and turn. Maureen had not even had to catch a single falling bottle so far and the rows of empty bunks lining each side of the plane had hardly rattled except in the same low humming frequency of the ever thrumming engine.

But now there were jolts. And of course there were, they were flying straight into a warzone. Cleven had gotten them to Iwo Jima two hours ago, and since that time he’d been circling the island in a wide arc, casually waiting for a pesky air battle between fighters to calm down enough for him to land. Sure, the beaches had been wiped clean and a landing strip had been carved out of volcanic ash and marine corps blood -cleared for their use. But still, there were Jap bunkers, Jap planes, Japs themselves and Jap equipment in that smoldering mountain and so far, no word had come down definitely as to when the island might be considered secure.

It was all very historic, Maureen has been assured -allowing a woman into a combat zone. First time ever, so they kept erroneously insisting. That’s why there was a man armed with a camera and not plasma sitting a few lines down from her on the cold metal bench. Maureen had once had plenty of time to ponder the historicity of her mission and that of her fellow nurses back in Guam, right now she wished she could focus solely on her training and ignore the ominous crack-pop of something hazardous in the air and the resulting wobble of Major Cleven’s steering.

Stupidly she wished the Major’s low voice would come back on through the near radio system and soothe them all back down like frightened livestock. Gale Cleven had a way of managing that even with his face obscured, and while it made Maureen blush to admit she needed any calming, the facts were she was 24 years old, practically untried and desperate to be brave enough to be of use. Rattling on the bench seat between equally nervous girls and a hawk-eyed journalist was no match for the cuticle picking anxiety.

Maureen chose to forcefully look up from said bloody cuticles and was met by Major Egan’s gum smacking grin across from her. How many carriers had he been on when they went down? Kamikaze planes jutting out the side of them, ocean water pouring in, sharks abounding and hundreds of patients under his care, in his charge to tow to shore?

Mild, scattered, poor-man’s flack wasn’t remotely disturbing to their flight surgeon. “He’s great, isn’t he?” Egan yelled to her cheerfully, the jerk of his head suggested his praise was directed towards someone in the cockpit.

Maureen knew well enough that much as Egan respected the co-pilot Demarco, it was no match for the love affair between him and Cleven, an appreciation that had Egan’s special request yanking his friend from Air Force to Navy to Transit. Such a series of bounces in a man’s otherwise distinguished career, all to chauffeur one charmingly entitled flight surgeon, was enough to put anyone into a bad mood -it would explain Major Cleven’s initial coolness on meeting them all at the departure tarmac.

Or maybe he was just businesslike. Maureen couldn’t fault anyone for that. He had been prepped, perhaps not as much as she had, but he didn’t act entitled in any way, and he kept the plane steady. Except for this mounting series of jolts.

“Yes,” she had chosen to holler back to Doctor -Lieutenant Commander? Bucky No Shits? Johnny? Doc “Smirky”?- Egan, knowing he’d want a favorable report on his friend, “it’s been remarkably smooth.”

Maureen was glad truth aligned with diplomacy in this instant. Although if any man could handle the outright truth it was John Egan, no matter what they all said. And “they” said a lot, he had once had two marine squadrons under his care and to them he was a Marine, simultaneously he’d had three navy squadrons to take care of and to them he was a Navy man. He’d even switched uniforms thrice in a day before. And now he was being flown about by his best friend to tend carcasses on a foreign strand, oddly suited to terrible conditions and bad scenarios, offering medical aviation expertise and poorly timed jokes wherever he went.

He’d trained her group of specialized Evacuation Flight Nurses the last three weeks of aquatic conditioning in the states, and he’d culled eighteen out of the group for getting winded after towing full grown men seven laps in the San Diego surf -all while puffing on a cigarette himself, seated with sunglasses on in an motorized dinghy. Maureen had come to hate him that day, and every day after she’d come to want to be like him. Kathleen Martin got her wings pinned first and Maureen right after, “well done, Candy!” Egan had praised while his fist drove in the tack.

“It’s Kendeigh, sir.” Maureen had dared correct for the hundredth time that training week, “Pronounced like: Ken-Day.”

“Cand-ay. Got it!” he repeated with jovial affirmation and that was that.

Major Cleven had given her the respect of calling her ‘Ensign’ as he shook her hand, a quick and firm squeeze and on to her next companion, she’d have judged him as too pristine in everything from mannerisms to features were his war record not ample justification for his bearing. The low cadence of his voice over the coms came in as a slight pitch to the plane and a swoop of decline in altitude became apparent under her—

“All personnel prepare for landing.”

Cleven was nothing like those pilots during training, barking orders laced with frantic warning in their voices. It was a cow pasture back in Kentucky and there they’d had no good reason for alarm. Here where there was real reason, Gale Cleven crooned to them and John Egan smiled opposite her as he took in the effect his chosen pilot had on his nurses.

“Like soothin’ a baby,” Egan sighed as he lounged a little deeper on his bench, long legs deceptively braced for impact, Maureen had long ago learned the man was nothing but smoke and mirrors of his actual intentions, “isn’t he great? In danger of fallin’ asleep with that guy at the wheel.”

To emphasize his point -or more likely to distract “his girls” from the imminent prospect of landing on a battleground, Egan leaned back all the way and tipped his cover over his eyes, pretending to fall asleep. Maureen caught him as he cocked one sharp eye open to see if she was still watching. She gave him a hopeless smile of recognition of his disguised kindness before forcefully suppressing a gasp of shock as the plane hit Amtrak smoothed gravel and ground its way down the beach. Egan hadn't budged by the time the momentum ceased and the plane became bizarrely still after hours of vibrating travel.

“Right. That’s us.” He straightened up, his cover and his posture, rising up in his seat and slapping at the metal ceiling of the plane, “Good job Buck.” he hollered and got no reply. “He’s still crabby about flying a C-47.” he divulged to no one in particular as they all rose and prepared to disembark, drilled for ages in this routine and finally let loose to practice it. Egan’s nonchalance was almost disorienting for such a momentous occasion.

The large cargo door was opened and a irreverently pleasant tropical breeze funneled through the plane, bearing with it the sounds of crashing waves and popping, far off gunnery. There was also a smell that came with it, sulfur and sweet. It was sickening from the first, and Maureen dreadedly wondered if it was from volcanic fumes and rotting vegetation or something more heartbreaking. With her kit on her back she followed her companions out the cargo door, finding Major Cleven blank faced and unphased on the tarmac beside it. Nothing but a smidge of sweat around his hairline to suggest the hours of flight he’d just clocked and the wacky landing he’d managed so well.

“Welcome to hell island, ladies.” he greeted in a droll monotone and Maureen’s gait stiffened without her permission.

There was no true tarmac, as they had been warned, just a strip of cleared back sand churned up by Cleven’s wheels. Lapping waves were on the left side and then a field of sheets to the right. It was the oddest sight. Rows and rows of camo tarp and white sheets blotted pink, hardly a spot of sand to be seen between. They’d been warned it was havoc here, the situation so bad that they’d finally allowed for this exception, allowed the sending in of specialized units to evacuate by air as the boats could hardly ferry enough of the wounded out in time to save them. But this -this beach of corpses was so daunting a task it seemed impossible to choose where to start.

“John,” she heard Major Cleven address Lieutenant Commander Egan as he dropped down beside her, “you’ve only got so many births, do what ya need to do to fill them, but I’ve got my orders. You’re not settin’ up a hospital. When we get the supplies off, get this plane full -we’re takin’ off. Full stop. I’m not gonna have us here like sittin’ ducks for the mortars while you fuss.”

“I hear ya.” Egan assured him in that remarkably unassuring way of his and lit a cigarette. “Alright nurses, gather round.”

Triage was crucial for such a mission, the prioritizing of wounds and necessary services essential for prolonging the lives of those in imminent peril, versus those with the likelihood of surviving on only the essentials found in a corpsman or medic’s arsenal. They’d be back tomorrow with another flight, and the day after that. Cleven was right that they weren’t here to establish a hospital, yet still the idea of how many would perish from being left behind, even by this first flight, was a sickening probability Maureen has been trained to ignore.

“Where are all the corpsmen?” Egan asked one pharmacist's mate who came to greet them, picking his way through the rows of groaning men. The boy couldn’t have been a day over seventeen.

“Up there,” the kid had nodded up to Mount Suribachi and its ominous veil of smoke, “or dead. Lost so many in the first week they started sending us in to substitute. We’ve done what we can. Sure glad to see you guys.”

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Lemons, sir.”

“Hell I can’t call someone a lemon, now can I?” Egan’s grin was infectious and the boy grinned back like he was seeing his first friend in ages.

“Then it’s Kenny. Sir.”

“Yeah alright Kenny, let’s get to it.” Egan had drilled you all so thoroughly you could have performed even without the aid of the grounded pharmacists and their mates, yet still it was odd to see such a mass of wounded and so few to tend them. The desperation and chaos was tangible.

Maureen had barely set off out from under the plane wing when Gale Cleven’s brusque reprimand arrested her steps as forcefully as a tug to her flight suit would have, “That bunch don’t need your help.”

The terse judgment in his tone gave her sharper eyes to notice that the particular section she was headed towards all had sheets pulled over their faces. Her own face blanched at both the misstep and the sensory overload of so much sorting to do. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself, not here, not when faced with the easy part of all this, and she wasn’t going to be crippled by criticism while enduring her first trial by fire. “Right, thank you, Major.” she agreed with him as stoically as possible and ground her heel back around on the sand and tromped off towards the direction of sheets that were visibly alive and writhing in misery.

That changed as soon as they saw her girlish form walking amongst them. Sounds of dying anguish changed to cheerful wolf whistles and happy greetings. It made Maureen’s heart swell with pride at the unbreakable spirit in each of them.

She spent the next hour and a half amongst those men.

Gruesome was a word that Maureen swore to herself that she would never use lightly again. She wasn’t one given to hyperbole anyway, and her years apprenticing in the hospital in Manilla and her most recent training for exactly such wounds as these, understandably led her to believe she knew the mettle of such a word.

But no.

Gruesome, she decided as she began her task again and again, applied only to this: the way the tiniest slip of her hand on any part of this poor boy took skin with it, charred and soupy flesh squishing off meat and sinew like the flaky crust on a prime bit of brisket. It was the only comparison fitting. His own flamethrower had bitten him as he tried to take a countless next pillbox. He’d said it like a joke even as his teeth chattered too hard from pain to deliver the punchline.

Maureen wasn’t here to contemplate ironies, or the unfairness of war, she was here to find some intact vein through which to stab her needle and begin giving him back the blood that was slowly leaching into the black sand beneath him. Ensign Smith was holding up the bottle, throwing a shadow over his charred form that helped Maureen discern a bit better, giving the boy a kind word or ten of reassurance about home and pain relief. Maureen bit through her own tongue when she finally slid the needle home, deep and pulpy, she could only pray it would hold the blood they gave back.

“Alright, bandages, Smith.” Maureen decided and did her best not to jump as a mortar thumped on the sand, hundreds of yards away, but still, they were getting ever closer, proving Major Cleven’s grim prognostication to not be unfounded. He was confirmed that the Japanese didn’t give two shits about red crosses, much less cargo planes carrying in supplies and taking away wounded. Maureen tried not to dwell on it as she and Smith began cutting away filthy uniforms and wrapping their patients' flesh in the Vaseline soaked bandages. It was a terrible business for the first few minutes before the interlaced numbing agents in the gauze took affect and made their care something less like torture for the poor men.

Some of them could walk, a missing leg being a mild injury comparatively, they just needed the helpful shoulder of a technician and off they went to amble into Cleven’s plane. There the Major met them despite it being beyond his purview, handing out cigarettes even though he himself abstained and kept an eye on the Navy mechanic refueling his plane from a bullet riddled jeep. When he wasn’t doing that he was scanning the sky, aviators turned up and reflecting a cloudless sky. Maureen’s mouth grew chalky at the thought of what he was looking out for.

Once wrapped and tended, the men were ready to be hoisted on stretchers and taken to the plane. But those men were select ones, ones that Egan had decided upon. He had a particularly odd way of triaging, one that upon initial observation appeared rather callous and aloof to his nurses who had been trained as much in medical practice as in solicitous decorum.

Doc Egan moseyed through the ranks of wounded, keenly aware he was not as popular as his pretty faced nurses, but making up for it with such easy-going banter that chuckles followed him wherever he went, making the men forget that he was deciding who got relief and who did not. Who were to be permitted the cooling sheets of Elysium by nightfall and who were to be left burning on the sand. Puffing a cigarette and making small talk, he clocked each injury and each likelihood of recovery without giving a bit of it away.

Nearing Maureen’s own patient of the moment, she felt him crouch down beside her and take in the hopeless gut wound she was ineffectually trying to stuff with bandages. A sturner superior would tell her not to bother, to move on, save such determination for someone with a longer life expectancy than five minutes. Maureen found it hard to make that call herself when met with the pleading eyes of someone’s dying son.

“C’mon Candy, move over, lemme try.” Egan murmured and his hip knocked hers gently as he crouched over the boy, perfectly aware of the futility. “Hey bud, breathe for me, breathe. You wanna smoke?”

Egan’s now bloody fingers reached up to his own lips and plucked his fresh and third cigarette of the hour and brought it down to the boy’s chapped mouth, shifting until he was fully seated on the sand, arms around the kid’s shoulders, gently taking the refreshment away when he puffed out, then replacing it for another inhale.

Maureen knew better than to linger. Beside this scene of brotherly last rites was another dying man and a hundred more beside him, so she moved on, seeing only vaguely the way the kid coughed blood as he laughed at Egan’s conversation. The topic seemed to be on the boy’s dog back home. The Sergeant she was tending added in a bit of teasing over the name -who names their dog “puppy”?!

Maureen had barely managed a tourniquet on the sergeant's arm before she could suddenly hear Egan’s gentle chatter turn to low shushing.

The sergeant looked away to the other side.

Maureen noticed the discarded cigarette laying on the sand, it had been smoked to a stub.

The heaving rattle of panicked breath beside them stopped.

Egan shifted onto his knees again and his long, bloody fingers dragged those sightless eyes closed. There was the brittle clink of dog tags being checked.

The sheet was tugged up all the way.

That triage was over.

Maureen politely ignored Doc Egan’s harsh sniff beside her -it was dusty here- but clocked the way he rose to his feet, a rough brushing off of his flight suit and his brusque inquiry regarding her morphine distribution in sector 2.

“All tended-“ she had begun when a shout from the far off plane rang out-

“-JOHN!” That was Cleven’s unmistakable bellow and Egan, despite being in a human sea of potential Johns- responded like he’d been made to hear that one voice alone. “Incoming, west!”

“Shit.” Egan spun westward and sure enough there were fighters with a blazing red sun, rushing straight down at them.

They were such a distance away still, Maureen doubted Cleven’s sight for all of fifteen seconds before horror set in. “They wouldn’t-?” she looked up at Egan whose bitten lip suggested that they would indeed strafe these poor men given the chance.

“Stretchers!” Cleven yelled again, “Get ‘em under the wings!”

There was a callous logic to it. Those men already prepped to be saved might as well be prioritized this much more. Fairness wasn’t something promised in war and Maureen chose to hate Gale Cleven instead of some ephemeral “war” for verbalizing the awfulness of that necessary.

“Do it.” came Egan’s agreeing order and Maureen and Smith took their respective sergeant down near the waterline at a run, fifteen other nurses and the various techs mimicking them. They deposited their men under the relative safety of the flimsy wings and dashed back out for more, leaving two techs behind to hoist the poor fellas into the cargo hold and deposit them in their respective bunks.

“Come onnnnn.” Cleven’s warning yell was drowned by the commencement of allied anti aircraft higher up the beach, trying to pick off the fighters before they reached the landing strip.

Maureen hardly noticed the closing drone of the fighter’s approach, nothing but her heart beat and memorized lines of her training on repeat in her ears. She’d been trained to fight hand to hand if necessary, her folks knew the risks of their daughter volunteering for such service but there was a sour dampening of resolve at the idea of being picked off from the air, not even allowed a bit of struggle to go out with.

All she could do was lift, hoist, run, deposit, do it all again.

They were getting near to full. On one pass through she saw Cleven counting berths and scolding poor Ensign Courter for her rushed method of securing her charge- “five feet drop to the floor on my first bank, oughta be just what that chest wound needs. For God’s sake, I’ll do it!”

He had a cold sort of fury to him Maureen found obnoxiously potent, and she felt a judgment rise in her for his obvious haste in wanting to get out of there. To his credit, when the planes did go by and everyone hit the ground, he was still standing yanking on the straps to secure the top bunk. Bullets punctured the side of the plane and riddled it, tiny specks of light flooding into the dark hold. One man was grazed as he lay in there.

“John!” Cleven warned again after they’d gone by.

“I know, I know damnit.” Egan snapped back from yards away, “There’s just not enough corpsmen -let me finish my damn job.”

“By the time you finish yours I won’t be able to finish mine.” Cleven retorted and the obvious finally occurred to Maureen -perhaps it was not his own safety that preoccupied him but the fragile capability of his riddled plane being able to evacuate once full. That, was indeed, his job. Still, such sentiments expressed as they were from the shelter of the cockpit and from a man who favored a silk blue neck scarf identical to the shade of his eyes, rankled Maureen.

The returning buzz of the Japanese fighters coming back around only cemented her futile rage. Her arms were aching and the sand caught at her boots and her mouth was dry with dust and there were so many, so, so many more left to help. Ensign Smith had been called away to assist with lifting another, and Maureen was knelt beside the man they’d managed onto a stretcher, doing her damndest to find how many bullets were embedded in his left leg and how deep the shrapnel was on his right. There was so much blood and filth it was impossible to tell and Andy, as his name was, couldn’t give her much help besides informing her it hurt like hell and she sure was a sight for sore eyes.

“Egan! At your three o’clock!” There was Cleven again.

Maureen grinned back at Andy and forced it to stay on her face as the buzz of the approaching fighters grew imminent and the dreadful thwump of machine gun fire thudded into the earth yards up the beach. It hit the section of the dead first, a further injury and dishonor. Maureen felt a lump in her throat at the realization she had no one near to help her lift this stretcher and that Andy himself hadn’t a usable leg to spare.

“Go.” her patient told her with a clear look of realization on his face as the leaden spatter of strafing began to elicit responses from those wounded men still alive enough to react.

“No.” The refusal came out of her mouth about as naturally as taking the next breath.

A shadow threw over them for a second and Andy’s facial expression grew surprised, but, stubbornly focused on her patient’s face, Maureen assumed it was the plane passing by at last and chose not to spend her last seconds watching what was going to kill her. “Ensign Kendeigh, lift.” Major Cleven’s voice was so close so suddenly it spooked her flat on her backside until she saw him, squatting down and casting a shadow at the head of the stretcher, poles gripped in both hands, ready to hoist. She scrambled to the foot and took the wood in hand, lifting for the twentieth time that day and running towards the plane.

Time was slow and fast all at once. Cleven’s shadow had come before even the first fighter. But as they ran it zipped by, bullets flinging up sand into their eyes, a near miss. The second one was close behind and as they ran near to the wings, they saw no room was left under them, as crowded as an awning at Coney Island during the height of summer.

Maureen squatted fast and lowered the foot of the stretcher, feeling Cleven mimick her movements behind her. Before she could turn ‘round and enact her training, there their pilot was, body draped over the battered Marine captain, his back as stalwart and protective as the wings of his plane. Maureen threw herself to the ground as well, propping herself over Andy’s battered legs. Together they made a turtle shell of sorts and, damned to be caught cringing when death took her, Maureen kept her eyes open and stared back at Gale Cleven’s gentle face as the -thud-thud-thud- passed them, a micro expression of assurance twitching his mouth and eyes as death passed over.

Who needed to look at the sky when you could find God in those eyes his mother gave him?

For as long as she lived, Maureen would never forget the gust of his spearmint scented breath on her face, the first sensation she registered as soon as the planes were past and they yet remained, alive, locked together above a man they’d both risked dying for.

“Major, you shouldn’t’ve.” Andy’s rough voice spoke Maureen’s own dazed sentiments as they straightened up, Cleven picking up his fallen aviators from the sand, “You gotta fly us outta here, you die an’we’re all sitting ducks.”

“Eh, that’s why we have co-pilots, Skipper.” Cleven grinned before glancing back at the sky, his face morphing into anything but carefree.

“Is that how Lt. DeMarco feels?” Maureen teased wearily.

“I’d never presume to know how Benny Demarco feels.” Cleven replied levelly but the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement, “Ensign Kendeigh, give me a task.” he demanded.

“Sir-“

“I want us outta here in ten.” His tone held no room for argument, “What’s somethin’ even a dumb pilot can manage? Egan!” He yelled as the Lieutenant Commander approached them at a jog, his dark face the picture of rage for the men in his care being further hurt. “Out in ten.”

“Not gonna happen, still got supplies to distribute-“ Egan was visibly inscenced.

“-one more pass on my plane and we’re not gettin’ up. Look at that back wheel” Cleven replied, nodding at the deflating tire. “Hand me your shit, what’re we supplyin?”

“Aren’t you queasy for needles?” Egan balked, finding time for teasing despite himself.

“Hand me the damn syrettes.” Cleven stuck his hand out.

“You're under Candy’s orders.” Egan stipulated, pointing to Maureen and Cleven nodded.

“Yup, and we leave in ten.”

“Okey Buck, go, go, go.”

The nurses that had gone before them had tagged and labeled each, making it easy for Maureen and Major Cleven to squat along the rows and complete what help could be given. Her other companions were doing the same, each staggered at a few yards and assisted by Corpsmen and pharmacists. And despite the tension from the strafing and the dismal prospect of having to leave so many behind, the hum of chatter soon picked up again on the beach.

“Shit, shit, shit, no-I hate needles!” Marty, eighteen years old but with eyes that had seen a little too much, bore his dressing with tired stoicism until Cleven pulled out the morphine syrette.

“Son,” Gale murmured with barely concealed amusement, “your side looks like a bear cub teethed on it, you’ll be fine. And this’ll help.”

“Don’t ‘son me’ you baby faced glamor boy.” Marty spat back, marine corps superiority coursing through his admittedly impressive veins.

Gale was midway through a good natured snicker at Marty’s venom when the heavy shock of lobbed mortars began to thud the beach again. “Jesus.” the Major sounded more annoyed than surprised and had the wherewithal to place a restraining hand on Marty’s chest as the kid began to scramble up in panic, displacing Maureen’s dressing on his ribs.

“Cleven, they’re chewin’ up our strip!” Demarco yelled to them from the cockpit and sure enough, craters were beginning to form at the end of their taxi-able stretch of beach.

“Don’t leave me! Don’t leave Major!” Marty suddenly clutched at Cleven and the Major had to wrench his arm free. “Calm down, private, you’re on a stretcher.” he then ducked his head as he moved round to seize the poles, “And if there’s one thing you should know,” he went on in a low murmur just for Marty’s benefit, “it’s that Doc Egan doesn’t waste his stretchers on dead men.”

Carrying Marty’s stretcher to the plane was Maureen’s last jog down the beach. She ran up the cargo ramp and Cleven was after her, handing over the task of racking the private into a bunk to one of the nurses before sternly ordering a path for himself through the crowded belly up to his cockpit. Demarco had the full radio system on, the better to communicate with the nursing personnel as they prepared for take off, and everyone aboard could hear his exasperated greeting as his reckless officer took his seat.

“You really game enough to try to get this Goony off the ground with less than a thousand feet of strip?” Benny’s broadcasted doubt made most nurses pause in their work and Maureen met Andy’s eye from the third bunk halfway along the plane wall.

“I thought he said that’s why they have co-pilots.” Andy joked to her quietly.

“Mm,” she agreed mischievously, “I guess co-pilots are one thing, co-Clevens are another.”

“Should find a way to mass produce.” Andy sighed, “War would be over in five seconds.”

Gale Cleven hadn’t even refuted Demarco’s concern verbally and already the crew shrugged it off, if Major Cleven couldn’t get them off Hell Island then no one could, and that was that.

“John Egan, get your ass onboard, it’s wheels up.” Cleven’s yell out the window blasted through the radio, too, and the girls grinned at each other -Major Egan wasn’t one to get bossed about. But, as if to challenge everything they knew about life and their own superior, mere seconds later, John Egan was hopping up into the belly of Cleven’s plane with his empty sack dangling and sweaty hair in disarray. “We’ll be back Kenny!” he yelled to the young pharmacist’s mate left on the sand as the cargo door was hastily wrenched shut by Brady.

“Honey I’m home.” Egan yelled up to the front and Demarco’s snicker echoed along the walls of the tin belly.

“Everybody stow your gear,” Cleven’s order came through, the pounding vibration of nearby mortars shuddering the plane even more than the engine’s revving, “we’re gettin’ outta here now. S’gonna be bumpy.”

“That’ll be one word for it.” Demarco snarked, “Death by bumps.”

The human cargo in the plane, those not groaning or insensible, let up a unanimous chuckle. It helped to have been to hell and back, a quick death as a plane failed to get air and plowed instead into a sand bank was hardly the worst prospect these men had faced.

“Believe, Benny, believe.” Maureen could hear Cleven’s soft smile in his voice as the wheels began to roll.

Brady, their engineer, navigator and the lone crewman besides the pilots aboard this transport, kindly manhandled Maureen to a seat between his legs on the rattling floor beside Egan’s built-in desk, his hand fisted in the back of her jumpsuit collar like she was a kitten. They kicked their legs out together and braced as they gained speed and the plane began to jostle into the milder craters at an ever more intense pace.

Shell fragments made a series of charming bangs off the side of the wing nearest her and Maureen could hear Brady whispering behind her in repetition “God spare the oxygen, God spare the oxygen, God spare-“

“50-“ Demarco’s countdown was unfortunately broadcasting like some morbid game announcer and Maureen could see Egan’s jaw ticking in stress under the harsh overhead lights.

There was a terrible blast in front, the sound of shattering glass or metal and a jarring shudder went through the plane, “Damnnit.” Cleven hissed but the acceleration remained.

“You hit?”

“No. Read me, Benny-“

“80-“ Demarco obligingly resumed counting.

“C’mon Buck.” breath gusting on Maureen’s neck behind her, as Brady had begun to direct his prayers to the Major now and as if in answer, the stomach swooping feeling of flight took over them seconds later as the cargo plane let out a mighty roar of strained endurance and lifted with a wobble that had more than a few bunks puking their guts out. There’d be over five hours to clean the plane floor and attend to housekeeping if they could just level out and stay up long enough to get out of range.

Down the way from them Egan was still seated, one hand holding aloft a not yet hung plasma bottle and the other gripping a support bar. But his head was starting to nod like a dancer keeping pace with the band’s ever growing tempo. The engines had a beat, if you’d been personal with a plane long enough to pick it up, and Maureen paid attention to Egan’s stippling fingers on the cross bar as they mounted and mounted, little bursts of enemy gunnery causing a comparatively mild wobble to the plane body every few seconds. She figured a veteran like Brady would know when it was safe to let her go; judging by the grip on her collar he was still highly dubious of their lasting success.

“Fighters, -everyone brace.” Cleven’s voice warned about as cooly as if he was pointing out the drip of ice cream slipping down a cone.

“Ice man.” Andy praised from his bunk to the agreement of his companions as the fighter zipped by without so much as a shudder from Cleven’s steering.

Plenty of the passing bullets had punctured the belly and one man got a direct hit. “Candy!” Egan commanded from his place checking the unfortunate man’s pulse, “Go remind Buck that we haven’t got the oxygen to go full bomber, he’s gotta keep low and -Candy! When ya come back, time to start throwin’ on blankets. Brady, get our pumps going. This is as steady as it’ll get.”

“You got it, commander.”

More than a little sure her mission was more provoking than necessary, Maureen still obeyed and followed Brady up the length of the plane and towards his electrical station, then past it to poke her head between the pilot’s seats.

“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise, getting car sick, kiddo?” Demarco joked, “Hey, I get it, I’d find it hell back there with no windows to look out.”

Their front window was partially shattered and the metal on Cleven’s side was gnarled.

“Those mortars obligingly made a few.” Maureen joked back.

“Anybody hurt?” Cleven asked, and to her surprise, he turned from his panel to look at her with unmasked concern.

A joke was ready made there about everyone quite literally being shot to hell but she sensed he’d not appreciate it and following some uninterpreted impulse of desiring his good opinion, she hardly wished to repay his earnestness with flippancy. “Only one.”

“How bad?”

“He looked -dead.” Maureen admitted. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the man moving past him but she’d seen Egan’s treatment of the body and it wasn’t promising.

Cleven’s jaw worked overtime at the news and something snapped in his mouth, followed by a soft curse from lips too full and soft to always be so stern. Maureen thought he may have broken a tooth with all that tension but he spit out two halves of a blooded toothpick instead. It fell to his pant leg.

“Major Cleven, sir, you’re bleeding.” It had drawn Maureen’s attention to his wet lap.

“That’s what I said.” Demarco agreed.

“It’s somebody else’s.” Cleven shook his head.

“You know if you pass out on me-“ Demarco warned, completely ignoring Cleven’s denial.

“-that’s why we’ve got co-pilots.” Cleven finished for him with a maddening smirk that made Benny Demarco throw his hands up.

“Can you check him?” he asked, “I mean -you are a nurse!”

“What? Hell no!” Major Cleven spooked for the first time all day at the suggestion, glancing quickly from his reddened trousers, behind him to Maureen Kendeigh, and back again. “I’m fine.” he declared in a firm tone that dettered her almost as much as the challenge of getting over the instruments and a steering column to pull down his pants and look. “Ensign Kendeigh, was there a purpose to your visit?” He redirected, resolutely ignoring Demarco’s unabated concerns.

“Yes sir,” she replied, meekly as she could, “Doc Egan asked me to remind you that you’re not flying a bomber. To mind the oxygen, sir. And that it’s cold.”

Cleven let out a mirthless little laugh. “We’re full of holes Ensign, of course it’s cold.”

“I know sir.”

“Yeah, ‘course you know,” his eyes lightened for a moment and Maureen almost deluded herself he was being chummy when he murmured next, “you’re smart like that. Tell the Lieutenant Commander I’ll keep her nice and low, so low the Jap navy gunners can blow the floor out without a sweat.”

“Much obliged, Major.” Maureen chirped, pleased to have been trusted with a bit of morbid humor -it was the truest test of being taken seriously a woman could hope for in the service.

“Thank you, Ensign.” And with that she was dismissed.

By the time she got to the belly again her assigned job of doling out blankets had long been accomplished by her fellows. Brady had the place lit up like an operating theater and there was the added drone of medical equipment added to Cleven’s engines. She liked to think of them as his now, Maureen realized, a tiredness seeping in now that the rush was over, now there was just six hours of the same until they touched down again in safety. His engines stayed with them, consistent, steady, dependable yet a little absent, just like the man himself.

“Major Cleven said he’ll keep her low, Doc.” Maureen reported dutifully but whatever humor Egan once held when sending her to the cockpit was now gone, a bloody mess on his hands as he and Ensign Dormer worked over a head wound.

“Good.” Egan gritted out, “I need a monitor on vitals and I need new gloves, c’mon Candy, c’mon!”

The hours passed like this, no way of telling time in the artificially lit tube of metal. Some men needed a cup of water and a kind smile, others required every bit of grit and intelligence to keep even the faintest pulse discernible above the hum. When one of them passed away in the anonymity of the top bunk, Egan didn’t bother to cover his face, the man looked to be sleeping and it suited the morale better if his fellows were not disillusioned on that score.

It was impossible not to think for a split second on the unfairness of it all -live to be finally evacuated and only die before getting safe. To think how someone else less tore up might’ve been given that bunk and survived the trip.

“Can’t dwell on it.” Ida Brady, their headmistress back in Manila, had said -and she had been right. But seeing her brother Lt. Brady cross himself now in recognition of a soul passed did something to Maureen’s own spirit, a grieving sort of fury possessed her which matched Egan’s own as they worked on the next unsalvageable man until he became a likely contender for seeing his wife and kids again.

She had been up for nineteen hours, flying for ten of those, nursing for four. She was bone tired and yet there was always someone to be tended and the thought of leaving one of these poor men without even the slightest of their needs met felt impossible. Maureen didn’t even think to pause or lag in her expertise, neither did the nurses around her and up there at the front somewhere, Cleven’s eyes were sharp and focused as ever, she knew it, and knowing it brought a calm over her that made her sympathize with Egan’s own superstitious preference for the man.

Brady came through with coffee, an abnormal duty he picked up as a result of trusting no one else with the process or the electrical requirements to make it. “Figured our pilots could use it.” he explained before passing out a passel of paper cups to the girls filled with the peppy stuff, belying his practical excuse, before taking two to the cockpit.

He came back out with a funny look on his face- “Benny says he needs a pan.”

“What the hell for?” Egan balked.

“Or a condom.” Brady dutifully amended the petition.

“I repeat -what the hell for?”

“They’ve drank a lotta coffee sir.”

“Any of you fellas got condoms?” Egan asked his patients with a laugh and got a series of predictable replies. “Gale Cleven sure as hell don’t.”

There were light hearted moments like that, many of them in fact, but six hours of flying with wounds as bad as the ones they were tending was no joke, there were bits of laughter and there were times of quiet and there were restless sleepers whose terrors not even morphine could dim.

“Forty minutes out.” Major Cleven had gone quiet over the coms for so long it was like hearing from God again when he came on, gentle and steady.

Those they couldn’t get comfortable were at the height of their groaning as the cold and the endless buzz got to them. Helplessly the nurses offered pillows and water and irrigated the burns with saline and checked needle positioning. Maureen had taken to charting, something too often neglected in high stress environments but something that proved terribly crucial as soon as they landed and handed over their charges to a new set of professionals. On the left side of the plane she held one man’s wrist after another and noted their pulse. On the right side she did the same, one man’s left hand after another, wedding band or sans wedding band, in her notes it was only ever:

“94, 57, 88, 91, 63, 82”

The lights had been dimmed, hopes were some rest could be gotten by those in any shape to manage sleep. It made for a drowsy atmosphere, only the flashlight in her teeth illuminating the veins under her fingers and her co-workers faces, Egan’s face was a shiny mess of freckles in the torch light despite the chill, exhaustion seeping out of him but not a hint shown in his workmanship. It made the dull chorus of groans in the dark all the more ominous and Brady remarked to Smith on one pass that maybe they should have brought a record player.

“Twenty minutes out.” Maureen and every other soul on board was living for those little updates from Cleven.

Men told to hang in there and not die before they could be gotten to surgery suddenly had a goal in mind and the suspense was growing brutal. Stashed and stowed, secured and checked, landing preparations were already done and it was last minute tending before taking seats. Maureen found herself nearly piddling by one young private, trying to soothe him with a washcloth as sepsis fever wracked him when over the intercom came the oddest lulling hum, like a far off jazz intro.

It was too soft initially to be recognized but the surety picked up, something about the tone unmistakably belonging to their pilot, his hums about as characteristic of him as his laconic speech.

“Is that whadda friend we have in Jesus?” Demarco’s voice overtopped the gentle melody.

John Egan was wheezing in a chuckle beside her as Maureen shook her own head in disbelief.

“No,” Gale murmured, humming paused only briefly, “it’s ‘Leaning on the everlasting arms’ -you fish eater.”

“You gotta be jokin’.” Benny was wheezing too but Cleven was back to his gentle humming, words actually forming this time and filling the tired plane with a timbre that could put Bing Crosby out of a job.

“What have I to dread, what have I to fear

Leaning on the everlasting arms?

I have blessed peace with my Lord so near

Leaning on the everlasting arms”

It worked, the sickening drop in elevation was -if not noticed- bravely pushed aside for a hymn sing, Brady leading from the back and Cleven from the front. And for a brief moment, men from Kansas to Florida, Oregan to Rhode Island, strapped in a flying coffin of flickering souls, were seated back in the pews of their childhood, trusting something larger than themselves. Even if that something was Gale Cleven’s steady hands or the justness of a cause worth dying for or God Almighty, it was something big and above the pain of right now.

“Leaning, leaning

Safe and secure from all alarms

Leaning, leaning

Leaning on the everlasting arms”

The Navy station at Gaum had a runway, in fact there were five Cleven could have picked at whim, and there was no feeling so beautifully civilized and sure as the smooth roll of plane tires on asphalt after what they’d just left. “Flaps at quarter!” and they were slowing, the deflated back wheel only causing some slight disturbance, and then they were stopped.

That bizarre stillness settled again as the engines were cut. Egan gave Maureen a smile so soft and telling that her heart about seized in realization -they’d managed it. “Well that’s us.” he repeated for the second time that day, voice gone raspy with cigarettes and fatigue. “Welcome to American soil, boys.”

There were so many lights outside the cargo door, searing white flashes in the nighttime, jeeps and ambulances and all manner of medical personnel at the ready, it was overwhelming in the exact opposite way the beach at Iwo had been. Maureen hopped down onto the tarmac with Ensign Mann, ready and prepared to stay with her charges until the transition could be made. Clipboard in hand and kit on her back, she’d go in with her select five until they’d been admitted and charted meticulously in the various wards.

“How’s it feel to make history, Miss?!” -some of those lights, Maureen realized with a dull throb behind her eyes, were flashbulbs. Journalists were thick as thieves, snapping and hollering, others respectfully keeping a distance, “You're the first woman to step foot in a combat zone-“ Maureen kept her hand on her stretcher even as she watched Cleven limping over to a jeep and piling in after Demarco. Her mouth set in a sour line of suspicion regarding his claims of being unscathed. He’d be in interrogation and she in the wards for the next hour, she’d have to find out later.

A couple of hours later John Egan was sat with Captain Crosby in the administration office, nothing but a small alcove at the front of the ward, his legs spread wide in his chair and good scotch whisky being slurped from a cleverly injected orange while reviewing the charts. Croz was a whizz at this, meticulous and careful to a fault and John adored him for it because men who gave a damn were scarce after this many years of grueling loss and, also, because it allowed himself to wind down sooner than he was technically free to do so.

“Two men lost, that’s -that’s still good odds.” Crosby couldn’t manage an upbeat tone, he felt those two lives as deeply as Egan did, but facts were facts and over all, this experimental mission had proven beyond successful. Now to tell that to the families of the two men now being carted to the morgue instead of surgery and salt baths.

“Yeah, my girls were Trojans out there.” Bucky sucked his teeth, the squint in his eyes beginning to relax with a boozy sort of calmness. “Speakin’ of Trojans! —Candy!”

Maureen approached the little alcove at a tired gait, not above reprimanding Egan for his loud voice with all those occupied beds just feet away. “It’s late, Commander.” she reminded with hinting softness that only made him crane his head back and grin sloppily at her.

“It is, it is.” he agreed, reaching up to pat her arm and she squinted at the smell of whiskey, Crosby’s sudden and transparent busyness with the charts confirmed her suspicions. “You should get some shut eye, Candy! Back at it tomorrow.”

“So should you.” she hinted kindly.

“Mm,” he hummed in negative, “apparently my ‘specialty’ is needed elsewhere before then.”

“And so the booze?” she struck back and Crosby’s pen briefly dragged along his tidy line in shock at her daring.

“Steady hands, Candy darlin.” Egan responded, lifting two sticky palms up and showing, indeed, not a tremor. “I’ve got a surgery in less than an hour -working with Brady’s old sister, of all people, the one who snuck out of Manila after?- anyways, she’s 90 pounds of spit and vinegar. Starved for two years, but she takes three weeks off and a round of anti-parasitics and she’s all ‘let me back at ‘em.’ Hell of a dame. Anyway, surgery with her. I need this.”

“Well,” Maureen Kendeigh knew when to let go of a fight with a man who’d as yet never failed her or anyone else, despite his habits, “I can confirm it does nothing for your eyes bags.”

“Kiss ‘em better?”

“Not in my purview, sir.” she couldn’t help but smile, “Perhaps lieutenant Brady will be obliging?”

“She scares me.” he objected.

“And I don’t?”

“Only in the ways I like, Candy Darlin’.” he insited.

“Ah Major!” Crosby’s strained greeting drew their attention away from this over rehearsed banter and Egan straightened up fast upon sight of his friend.

“Buck!”

“John.” Gale Cleven was in the same uniform he’d been in for hours, flight jacket undone and scarf hanging loose. He must have come straight from interrogation and standing in front of the administrator's desk he was turning his cover over and over in his hands. Maureen was certain that were she to devote two hours a day to brushing her hair she could never bernish it to the golden brilliance that twelve hours of flight-sweat gave his. On a more concerning note, his was pale as death except for those lips. “I came to check in on everybody. Load of journalists out there.” He thumbed back behind him at the public area, “Mostly curious about you, Ensign.”

“Historical.” Egan affirmed and sent Maureen a sly look as she sighed over the fuss being made of her mission.

“I’m one of twenty.” she reminded.

“I hope you were nice about her.” Egan goaded his buddy and to her confusion, Gale flinched as if that were a remarkably successful mode of attack.

“O-of course.” he frowned severely and Maureen had a desperate urge to thumb those lines away. “I told them the truth.” he defended, mildly heated.

“Which is?” Egan was enjoying this and neither Maureen nor Harry Crosby could seem to puzzle out why.

“They did remarkably.” Cleven didn’t budge.

“Better than you thought.” Egan prodded.

“Yeah. Admittedly, far better than I thought. Jeeze, John.”

“But were you nice about her?” Egan insisted.

“What?”

“You said they were particular about Candy.” Egan said, “So what did you say?”

Maureen grew concerned that with such a level of fluster in the Major’s face not a stitch of blood seemed able to raise a blush.

“How ‘bout you read it in the paper.” Gale replied, coolly mean before clearing his throat and straightening up, back in possession of himself. “I came to see how many -how’d we do?”

“Twenty eight.” Egan confirmed.

“Outta thirty?” Cleven asked for confirmation.

“Yes sir.” Crosby answered him.

“Alright.” The Major accepted that, hat still whirling in his hands, a strange contrast to his perfectly contained posture. It drew Maureen’s eye to his hips and that deep red stain running down his pant leg.

“How’s your hip Major?” she asked, seeking to break the silence before Egan did so with some new and regrettable subject.

That did bring a flush and a sheen of sweat broke out on a face Maureen knew would be feverishly hot were she to touch it. He looked peeky, truth be told. “It’s fine, ma’am.”

“Hold up,” Egan stood from his chair and leaned over the desk to glare blearily at Gale’s trousers. “You're hit.”

“It’s a scratch.”

“Scratches don’t keep bleedin’ like that.“

“Well, mine do.”

“Hey, I don’t go tellin’ you how to fly your planes-“

“-you do though.”

“-so you don’t go tellin’ me what’s a scratch and what’s a wound. It’s still drippin’, that makes it a wound.”

Cleven moved his boot to the side impatiently and only succeeded in proving his friend’s point as a line of fresh blood smeared the white tile. “I was gonna just -“

“-What?”

“-Clean it in the shower.” Cleven sighed, defeated but with an edge that suggested he might yet do it .

“Oh, just gonna rinse mortar fragments outta of your thigh, yeah?”

“It’s not that bad. Dunno if it really got hit.” He protested, “Might be scratched.”

“Or you might have a piece of your instrument panel snuggled up to an artery.” John affirmed sarcastically. “We’re goin’ up again tomorrow. I need you fit, I need you good.”

“I am.”

“You’re gonna get checked.” Egan commanded and Gale looked back at the double doors leading to freedom and a pack of journalists and sighed. “You’re on the ground now, flyboy, I call the shots.”

“Ok.” Cleven mumbled, “If you’re so goddamn eager to pants me, do it.”

“I am, I am but I’ve got even better things to do.” Egan rounded the desk and flung an arm around Gale in parting, bringing him in close despite Cleven’s stiff necked antipathy that hid only the deepest seated endearment, “Like putting a left lung back where it should be and trying to get Lt. Brady to smile at me.” Egan expounded, letting go and beginning to actually leave, much to Cleven's sudden concern, “Which is, naturally, on the left -the left lung, that’s where it goes.” Egan went on.

“Wait, aren’t you gonna-?” Cleven called after him.

“Pantsing is more of Ensign Kendeigh’s purview.” John replied cheerfully. “Don’t look so appalled, I'm sure she’s seen smaller.”

“John!” Major Cleven and Maureen both inflected his name like twin, scandalized parrots.

“You deserve each other.” John laughed, “Ensign, do your duty.”

“This is the kinda behavior that has you gettin’ write ups for bein’ a terror to your nurses!” Gale growled after him in remonstrance but it did nothing to slow Egan’s tactical withdrawal.

“Bulshit, everybody on this ward loves me!” John dared to claim even as he was berated on his way out by more than a few wounded marines for being a little too jovial at two in the morning.

Cleven didn’t wait for the doors to fully close on Egan or for Maureen to collect her professional demeanor and clipboard before he was leaning over Captain Crosby at his desk, large hands splayed on the fresh paperwork, assuming the pose of a supplicant before a lawyer. “Harry, Captain, do me a favor this once and take a look fo-“

“-Major Cleven sir,” Harry Crosby interjected levelly and with the utmost respect, “I’m an administrator.”

Maureen composed herself, the sight of this stoic man losing a grip on himself due to the prospect of lost modesty was surprising, it was also motivating to find her own professionalism and put him at ease. “Major, if you’d follow me?” she nodded her head towards the ward and started clopping down the dim aisle toward one of the last empty beds. He didn’t need to lay down for it but she needed her instrument tray, an isolated light and, if his shyness was so severe, drawing the sectioned curtains would hardly be amiss.

When she arrived and turned round to instruct him, he was obediently there to obey. Something about that dogged respect for authority he possessed and his compliance with her own profession filled her with an odd protectiveness and she motioned him into the space gently, tugging the curtain closed behind him. He was taller than she realized, made more apparent as he took the initiative and tugged off the bulky weight of his flight jacket, methodically laying it out in a half fold on the bed, nothing but a lean line of him left in olive green.

Lanky, her mother would call him, a long drink of water. He looked all of twenty four, suddenly, soft and in need of a meal. “Your leg, yes?” she reaffirmed, jotting it down in the chart. She had found that men found it easier to talk of injuries when she wasn’t making eye contact.

“Yes.” His voice was low as the grave and hushed too, “And -I think maybe my hip.”

Maureen’s eyes flicked to the place in question, recalling how she had suspected his lap in general on the plane. “Right.” she made the customary jot down of the detail and then an arguably unnecessary note beside it, the longer to give him a chance to cool himself. “Your pants Major, if you would.” she filled in the date and the time, cursory information so as not to be idle while he undid his belt, the clank of the flat uniform clasp deafening in the space where he seemed to hold his breath.

She was used to discerning the moment when it was safe to look up. Often there was a brief period after the sound of pants hitting the floor where one might have the misfortune of catching a man adjusting himself to a preferred side. She was prepared to give him that moment in peace but his voice called her to attention.

“Is this?-“ he didn’t finish his sentence and she looked up to see his vague gesture as he stood in briefs and boots, jacket hung open, too.

“Yes I think we can manage with those on.” she smiled reassuringly, discerning his query. His skivvies were blood stained on the right and clinging to him but the wounds appeared to be above and below their coverage, “I’ve always got scissors if need be.”

“Scissors.” He repeated with a nod, teeth savagely dug into his lip.

“Jacket off, this could get messy.” She ordered and something about her decisiveness seemed to soothe him like she knew it would, he shrugged it off gracefully and laid it beside the sheepskin, and yanked at his tie to relive his bobbing throat. “Please, sit Major.”

He sat down on the bed, a little stiffly, and she reached above her to turn on the large overhead lamp, shining it down on them both and in the harsh glow of it she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen something so beautiful as Gale Cleven’s blushing face fixed upturned towards her own.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, looks like.” she attempted to make conversation and got a mere nod instead, once she stepped nearer, his eyes devoutly focused themselves somewhere to the right of them, on the floor.

She rinsed the area first, wiping away the crusted blood until his smooth, lightly haired skin came into view, little jagged tears visible in it with small fragments embedded. It wasn’t bad at all, but deep enough to keep it bleeding.

The touch of cool water made him jolt in surprise. What it didn’t do was make him shrink. She saw his hands curl, white knuckled around the mattress pad beside him as she gently dug out the metal, and she had a suspicion it wasn’t from the pain.

As unabashedly as her profession had taught her, Maureen tugged up his boxer leg until she was satisfied she’d uncovered the last little shard and did what was necessary, reaching atop the wet fabric and moving his heavy member up and away. He about bucked off the table at that mere touch of positioning and Maureen backed away out of pure animal instinct to avoid getting reflexively kneed.

“I'm sorry!“ he rushed out, his chest suddenly tight like an elephant were sat on it and his blood thudded in his ears, “Ensign, I apologize, I don’t know why-“

“It’s fine.” she insisted, stunned and pitying at the realization she probably was the first woman to touch him this way. To touch him at all. “I’m sorry this requires it.” she admitted.

“Please don’t -“ he took a large breath and began again, actually managing to meet her eyes out of sheer willpower, “-I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re doing your job, i don’t know why I get- it’s unprofessional of me, I'm sorry.” he repeated firmly and straightened his spine as if he could discipline a most human reaction away.

“It’s not at all uncommon.” She whispered, feeling compelled to be unprofessional herself if only to make him stop berating himself, “We nurses deal with this all the time, quite normal after combat, particularly.” Maureen paused for a moment and weighed the joke on the tip of her tongue as she dabbed iodine on a cotton ball and prepared to go back into the dreaded zone of his thigh crease, “It’s to be expected, the manual says; your blood is quite literally UP.”

Stood there in suspense between his legs with the iodine swab waiting mid air, Maureen waited until she saw a flicker of amusement twinkle his sad expression and a snicker escape that sober mouth. “Tell me about it.” he rasped, exasperated at his own body. “Every damn time.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” she teased, bringing the swab down and ignoring the sizable jolt his whole body and appendage gave at this dab to his thigh or the way his belly caved in with his deep intake of breath, “I’m telling you it’s normal.”

“Damn, you are sweet.” He declared suddenly with gut wrenching emphaticism that finally broke Mauren’s own precarious composure. “Not just to me,” he hastened to add in response to her melting expression so close to him, “to everybody out there. You were incredible today.” He paused and Maureen swallowed hard and tried with great difficulty to find the capability to thank him for the compliment. Before she could, he added with youthful honesty, “But you are -sweet to me.”

“Right back at you. Major.” she insisted, daring to stay that close and look back into those eyes she thought would be her last sight on earth for a second there on the beach earlier. His shuddering breath suggested he was recalling it, too.

“It’s nice to have friends in the crucible with ya.” he explained and Maureen felt her heart glow.

“Your poor hands.” she whispered, dropping her swab to gather his shaky hands in hers, the large palms engulfed her own even as she tried to cradle them. Never a hint of this anxiety while flying them, yet here he was shivering with it afterwards. “Probably blood loss.” she gave him an out, some men weren’t ready for talk of flight exhaustion or strained nerves.

“Then why’s it wasting all I’ve got to spare on…that?” He actually managed to joke back and Maureen actually allowed herself to laugh -god help her, she laughed at a man’s joke about an ill timed erection.

“John would say something about hope springing eternal, right about now.” she wheezed even as he groaned, his hands still placidly jittering in her grip, “I enjoyed your singing, by the way.”

“Mm, yeah, well,” he cleared his throat, “you didn’t see the hole in the wing or the busted flaps all the way home. That landing didn’t promise to be as pretty as it was.”

“But it was pretty.”

“Yeah. Not too bad.”

“A gorgeous landing.” she insisted and his eyes started to water under the harsh light. Impulsively, and in an act of unprofessionalism she would have never recognized before today, Maureen Kendeigh drew his hands close to her chest and pressed a kiss to his lined forehead. The way he sagged against her in a shuddering lunge suggested her impulse was a good one. “Doc Egan insists whiskey is good for this.” she whispered into hair that smelled so strongly of his musk and the wool of his cap she about buckled from it.

“Mm, but is it g—good for him?” he responded rhetorically, a gust of moist breath against the open throat of her flight jacket, his usual irony still remained with only a hiccup of nerves interrupting his speech. Maureen wasn’t sure anymore, what saved a life, well, it had saved a life, so why demonize it? She was here to force things to keep living in environments so hostile wildflowers gave up. Some men needed their booze and some men needed to be held in the hospital ward at two in the morning until their shakes calmed. As if he could read her mind, she felt Gale turn his head to the side a little for breath, face still pressed to her chest as he uttered quietly, “This is working. For me.”

“Good.” Nose buried in his hair she took a few measured breaths herself, feeling that odd calm still radiating off him, even as his body was shot to hell and giving off the overtaxed jitters. “You bring people calm, you know that, Major? It’s why Egan picked you for this, deep down, you make a plane load of dying men hang in there. That’s a gift. But when you’ve got a cup you keep pouring out of, it’s bound to go empty. Gotta refill yourself, sometimes, yes?”

“I thought this was blood loss.” Gale replied softly and it took Maureen a beat to recognize the sad mischief in his blue eyes.

“Alright. I’ll speak for myself.”She conceded with a huff.

“You must be exhausted.” he noted, suddenly as sober as they come.

“A little tired.” she admitted, questioning the way she instinctively tightened her hold on the back of his neck as he stiffened to pull away. Entirely unprofessional, she wasn’t a medicine spoon or a needle, he had every right to pull away.

“So what would fill your cup back up?” he asked in that low voice that sent a million varied undertones crashing through her, whether he intended it or not.

Too tired to be much more than plainly honest, or as honest as a woman should be with a half undressed patient cradled to her chest, Maureen admitted the half of it, which in many ways was the whole, “This is working for me.”she repeated his own words to him and watched them take effect.

Like a sudden reanimation had occurred, Gale Cleven untangled their hands with emphatic surety and then, in an act of kindness Maureen never expected, brought them to her shoulders and tugged her down for a solid embrace. “A hug and a nap then.” He prescribed, his solid shoulder beneath her cheek and his legs parted for her to step between. Only the bandages kept him from bleeding further on her.

“Not a nap,” she smiled, an inexplicable warmth and calmness flooding through her in his hold, his back was broad and lean under her hands, “we should go to sleep.”

“No such thing as going to sleep in the military, Ensign.” Gale murmured, “Sleep -that’s what happens when your mama tucks you in and you’ve got a whole night to waste. Naps. That’s what we take.”

“Alright, a nap, and a hug.”

“Alright.”

“You know,” Maureen dared with a little smile as some part of her slotted back in place and gave her the boldness to be a little too much, “there’s this thing people came up with ages ago where you hug and take naps at the same time.”

Pink cheeked but with a jaw clench that had defeated warzones, Gale Cleven pulled his head away and gave her a heavy look of admonishment, “Marriage.” he stated unamused.

Well, she had meant sex, and she wanted it, always had after danger -but Cleven had a point too.

“Uh, yes, that’s the most common-“

“-If I were to marry you, Maureen Kendeigh,” his voice took on a teasing lilt that was somehow more devastating than all his commanding earnestness, “there’d be no nap taking.”

“Oh.” A single utterance was about all she could articulate in the face of that smirk and gentle refusal. Both flattering and painful all at once. “Well, that’s not for us then.”

“No.” he pondered, full lips twitching downwards in disappointment, “At least, sounds like a decidedly post-war endeavor. No naps.” he clarified.

“Oh -yes.” she caught on, well used to the code of superstition all around her that didn’t allow men to spell out any sort of lasting, long term hope. “A postwar endeavor.” she agreed, never having heard marriage so smartly categorized.

“Uhuh,” his hands trailed up from her ribs to squeeze the sore muscles of her deltoid, “for now -naps. Back up tomorrow.”

“Alright.” she agreed, stepping a small distance back and looking him over, this time his presence didn’t shrink, in fact if anything he expended in the small room and it made her chest ache, “You're alright?” she made sure one last time.

He held his palms flat up and Maureen could attest they were indeed steady, terribly large, too, and his watch on his wrist was careening towards three o’clock. “Looks like it.” he rasped. “But you’re in charge here. Can I go, Ensign?”

Regretfully Maureen nodded, “You’re dismissed, Major.”

When he stood up from the bed he was by necessity in her space, looking down at her rather fearlessly as he yanked up the waist of his trousers and gathered the belt closed around his lean waist. Maureen felt her cheeks burn but couldn’t look away, if she were to glance away from those eyes she might see something even more tempting before he’d secured the fabric.

“Got any more duties after this?” he asked, breaking the moment as he bent to arrange his trouser hems over his boots.

“No.”

“Then I’ll walk you to your billet.”

“For naps.” she clarified cheekily.

“For naps.” he agreed with mirthful vehemence, finger pointed at her with almost paternal caution to not push his patience.

“Do you want your shell fragments?” she rattled them in their dish, the pieces she'd pried from the shallow muscle of his hip.

Cleven paused with his hand on the dividing curtain, shaking his head in amusement, “Give ‘em to Egan,” he suggested with a wicked little smirk, “knowing him he’ll make a talisman out of them or something equally useful.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s life blood, lemme head your thots or screams! Xoxo

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added for my MOTA fics)

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

@steph-speaks

@crazymadpassionatelove

@rubyfruitjungle

@taestrwbrry

@storysimp

@javden

@sexualparkour

@jointherebellion215

@sunny747

@ask-you-what-sir

@xxanaduwrites

@pretty4u

@yorkshirekiwi

@waitedforlove743

@elvismylove04

[cinnbar-bun]

Popularity- Cross Guild's Day Off 2 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Summary: In which you work with the three Cross Guild officers and Buggy attempts to prove his popularity through a poll. Of course, it's never as simple as it really should be in Cross Guild.

Rating: SFW/Crack

Word Count: ~3k

Notes: No relationships are defined, so feel free to headcanon whatever you want. I know it says x Reader up there and I wrote it in mind that it's a weird ass polycule but I made sure to leave it ambiguous for your reading pleasure. Made in mind with part 1, but can be read as standalone. Features cameos from Alvida, Galdino, and Daz Bones.

A/n: I love these three goofballs so like feel free to request stuff with them or what scenarios you'd like to see them in please???

Read Part 1 here! Read this chapter on my AO3 here!

“It’s really not fair! It’s not fair at all!” Buggy screamed. Mihawk, Crocodile, and you sighed at whatever it was that seemed to be, well, bugging Buggy. 

“Will you stop your complaining? Some of us are actually trying to do work here,” Crocodile growled while his fingers continued clicking away on the calculator. “(Y/n), go and hand me the reports for-,” 

“Right here, Sir,” you said as you handed him the stack of papers he wanted. Crocodile smirked proudly while his eyes narrowed at Buggy. 

“See, why can’t you be like (Y/n)? They know how to get work done.” 

“Wha-! I get work done! Plenty of work!” 

“Juggling isn’t work.” 

“Is too!” Buggy stomped his foot. 

“Hardly,” Mihawk chimes in. 

“Grrr… you two are just jealous of me! Jealous of how I’m the Star Clown and you two will just be boring, old men!” 

Mihawk and Crocodile glanced at each other knowingly and rolled their eyes. 

“You’re still bothered by the fact you were not important enough to have any good cards in the deck, aren't you?” Mihawk states bluntly, not bothering to be gentle with Buggy’s fragile ego. 

“SHUT UP!!! SHUT UP!!!!” Buggy shouted, gaining the attention from his subordinates outside the office. 

“Aw… someone’s upset,” Crocodile teased. You huffed at the two stoic ex-warlords and tried to soothe Buggy. 

“Buggy, it’s alright. They’re just silly cards. Look around you, you have so many employees happy to work for you because they really admire you as captain,” you say genuinely while patting his head. Buggy sniffles and nods. 

“You’re right, (Y/n), you’re right,” Buggy agrees. He wipes his eyes and nose with his hand before he bounces back to life, clenching his fists. “That’s very true! All these people love me and would die for me! So those card makers don’t know anything! I’m the most popular one here!” 

“Wait, what…” you wince, while Crocodile and Mihawk groan. 

“Thanks, (Y/n), now he’s gonna do something stupid again,” Crocodile sighed. 

“Buggy, all I’m saying is-” you try to fix your error, but Buggy shakes his head. 

“Nope! You just gave me an amazing idea!” 

“Here we go again,” Mihawk mumbles. 

“W-what’s the idea?” You ask Buggy. 

“Obviously, to really settle the matter, we need to hold a popularity contest!” Buggy proclaims. 

“We really don’t have to. No one cares about this except you,” Crocodile says blandly while he opens the folder you gave him. 

“Haha! You’re just saying that because you know deep down that I will win when it comes to Cross Guild!” Buggy eggs Crocodile on. “They love me here!” 

“I really don’t care-” 

“So, to finally gather once and for all who the most popular is-” 

“God damn it.” 

“I’m going to poll the others!” Buggy announces, grabbing a random clipboard from your desk. 

“Isn’t that rather biased?” Mihawk asked. 

“Biased? What are you talking about?” Buggy raises his brow. “You think Imma lie about this?” 

“Yes,” all of you respond. Buggy lets out an offended gasp and frowns. 

“Well then, what do you suggest, smart guy?” Buggy yells at Mihawk. 

“Having only you go around and then return with results will obviously not be the most accurate. We need to send a third party that won’t lie,” Mihawk explains. 

The three men turn to look at you. 

“Why do I have to do it?” You fold your arms. “I have work to do!” 

“I’ll pay you extra for this week in order to have Buggy shut up,” Crocodile states. 

“Do you think I can be swayed so easily with money?” 

“Yes,” the three men respond. You swipe the clipboard from Buggy. 

“Damn right I am,” you state as you pick up your favorite pen from your desk. 

“Now then, since you’re going to be polling, I expect truthful and honest answers,” Mihawk demands. “No one can lie or cheat this.” 

“Before we do this, none of you are allowed to know who voted for who,” you add. “I’m not having you fire or hunt down some poor employee because they voted for Mihawk or something.” “Well that won’t happen,” Buggy comments. “No one is gonna vote for Mihawk to begin with.” 

Now it’s Mihawk’s turn to be offended. “What do you mean by that, Buggy? Do I need to silence you for good?” 

“Eek! All I’m saying is, you hardly ever step out of the office or interact with anyone!” 

Mihawk stays silent then mumbles, “I interact with others…” 

“Oh really? Name one person you’ve interacted with,” Crocodile demands. 

“You can’t do that, either,” Mihawk counters. 

“That’s just because I don’t give a shit about these people’s names. I still talk to them, though,” Crocodile corrects. 

“Fine, (Y/n)!” Mihawk huffs. 

“They don’t count.” 

“Why don’t they?” Mihawk crosses his arms. 

“Because we all see them every day in this office,” Crocodile chides Mihawk. “Name someone.” 

“Okay, I guess I cannot name anyone,” Mihawk relents. “Not that it matters in the slightest, by the way. This is a silly and pointless little game.” 

“See? No one is gonna vote for you!” Buggy laughs. 

“I guess I should kill you now, Buggy,” Mihawk says as he draws Yoru. 

“Gaaaahhh! No! Please don’t!” Buggy cries, latching onto you for safety. 

“Buggy, please let go,” you sigh. The clown does so shakily and you begin to write on the paper in your clipboard. “Okay… Buggy, Crocodile, Mihawk. There we go. I’ll go around and ask, then. See you guys later.” 

“Before you go,” Crocodile begins. You turn to hear him out while he has a big shit-eating grin on his face. “If you’re going to talk to Mr. 3… knock before you enter.” 

Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets from what this could mean as you nod and exit the office. 

“Why the hell did you say that?” Buggy questions. Crocodile chuckles, taking a puff from his cigar as he shakes his head. 

“Oh, they’ll see soon enough.” 

-

“Favorite head of Cross Guild?” An employee scratches his head. His coworker beside him does the same. 

“Wait, uh, they’re not gonna kill us for answering this, are they?” The other one asks. 

“Crap, you’re right. Is this some way to weed us out or something?” 

You shake your head. “No, no, not at all! This is just a… uh… thing they’re testing for some new merchandise,” you lie. 

“Ah,” the two men nod along. “That makes so much sense.” 

“Buggy,” the first man states. 

“Mmm… yeah, Buggy,” the second adds. “He never harps on us like Sir Crocodile.” 

You thank them for the response and tally it to the votes. 

“I guess Buggy was right,” you mumble to yourself, seeing as he currently had seven votes out of the seven people you asked. “Maybe we could send these results in to those cardmakers and get a cut of the merchandising.” 

Just as you’re about to walk away, Alvida strolls into the room. 

“Oh, Alvida! Good morning,” you smile at her. “Can I have a moment of your time?” “(Y/n), dear,” Alvida runs a hand through her hair. “What do you need from the most beautiful woman of the sea?” 

“Well, the higher-ups wanted to run a poll,” you show her the paper. “Please vote for your favorite head of Cross Guild.” 

She studies the paper for a moment and purses her lips. “Hmm… you know what, I vote for you.” 

“What?” 

“What? Just put a tally for you,” Alvida suggests nonchalantly. 

“But, um, I’m not a head of Cross Guild,” you argue. 

“So? You practically are their fourth one. I’m sure they won’t mind. And if they do, they can take it up with me,” Alvida brushes your concerns aside and takes the pen from you. She writes your name down and adds a tally. 

“Can I ask why you want to add me?” 

“Simple, dear.” Alvida chuckles. “You’re not like those brutes upstairs. You get worked to the bone by them yet still retain your own sense of self. Do you know what that is?” 

“No, I don’t think I know what that is-” 

“Passion!” Alvida throws her arms in the air. “You are passionate, clean, stylish, and most of all, you are quiet! If anyone is worthy of my vote and attention- it is you!” 

“Wow, thank you,” you comment, impressed that Alvida actually gave you a nice compliment. 

“Yes, yes, well, what do you think about becoming my assistant instead of working for them?” Alvida winks. 

“Ah sorry, I’m pretty happy where I am right now,” you quickly shut down. Alvida clicks her tongue. 

“Hm… perhaps you’d prefer to be my partner instead? You would be a good match by my side.” 

“Would you look at the time!” You awkwardly laugh. “Bye, Alvida!” 

“Bye, darling. Don’t worry though, we’ll pick this conversation up another time~,” she waves. You sigh in relief as you walk away that she didn’t mace you immediately. Still, there’s work to be done. 

You walk into the staff lounge and greet the other members there, who cheerfully greet you back. 

“Sorry to bother you guys, but if you could just fill out this poll, that would be great. And don’t worry, no one will know of the results, so please be as honest as you can!” 

The clipboard gets passed along by the staff members, who quickly add a tally mark to the poll. In less than a minute, all twenty people in the lounge have responded. 

“Wow, thank you guys. You guys are quick,” you joke, taking back the clipboard. 

“The choice was obvious,” one of the employees answers, and the others nod. You wonder who they voted for when you look at the paper, only to see your name has now over twenty marks attached to it. Your eyes widen and you politely thank the others as you step out of the room. 

It was one thing when Alvida did as she pleased, but now the others were voting for you in droves. You took a deep breath. Crocodile, Mihawk, and Buggy surely wouldn’t kill you for this, would they? After all, Alvida herself said they could bring it up with her. Yeah, that was okay. This was just a silly joke anyways. 

You continue to collect polls, feeling touched yet also nervous when you found that every employee had checked you off as their favorite. It got so bad that you had to use a second page to collect all the tallies that the employees were adding to your name. 

As the number of employees left to ask dwindled, you remembered to get Daz Bones and Galdino’s polls. You figured the choice would be clear for them- Crocodile. After all, they were very loyal to him and even continued their work relationship into Cross Guild. It would also allow for Crocodile to at least get some vote from his current tally at zero. 

You had scoured for them all around the base, but didn’t find any sign of their presence. Just as you were about to give up, you found Daz Bones peacefully sitting, probably waiting for his next assignment. 

“Daz! Can I-” 

“(Y/n), I have no interest,” he cut you off. 

“It’s for Crocodile,” you add, knowing he wouldn’t participate otherwise. Daz nods and then urges you to step closer. You show him the clipboard and he raises a brow. 

“Crocodile really cares about this sort of thing?” 

“It’s mostly because of Buggy,” you explain, and Daz nods, connecting the dots. He quickly tallies a mark to Crocodile’s name. “Thank you, Daz!” 

“You’re welcome,” he gruffly responds. 

“Oh, and do you know where Galdino is?” 

“Why should I know? Perhaps he’s in his room,” Daz shrugs. You should’ve guessed that but wave goodbye and walk to Galdino’s room. You’re about to knock when you remember Crocodile’s ominous warning echoing in your head again. 

“Knock before you enter…” 

You were going to do that anyways, but the weird way Crocodile said it made you grimace. You nervously rapped your knuckles against Galdino’s door. You heard a huff and a lot of grumbling as Galdino swung open the door. 

“What do you w-,” he angrily yells until he gasps when he sees it’s you. “(Y/n)! Ah! Uh! Please excuse me!” 

You briefly notice a large wax statue on the table before Galdino slams the door on your face. You jump when you hear Galdino freaking out and throwing things around his studio. Something metal is grating against the floor as you hear Galdino struggle to move the obviously heavy object. 

“G-Galdino? Is this a bad time?” You call out. 

“No, no, no! It’s fine! Perfectly fine! Hahaha there’s nothing weird going on here!” Galdino answers from inside his room as something crashes to the floor and Galdino swears. 

It’s silent for a moment until Galdino opens the door, leaning against the frame and trying to give you a charming smile while some wax is now splattered against his pants and shirt. 

“So, (Y/n), what brings you to my studio?” He asks while forcing his voice to sound lower, pushing up his glasses. 

“Ah, the heads wanted to take a little poll. Mind answering?” 

“Anything for- I mean-,” Galdino coughs and lowers his voice again. “Anything for you, (Y/n).” 

He takes the clipboard from you and begins to notice the options, quickly marking a tally next to your name. 

“There you go- wait a minute!” He looks horrified as realization sets in that there’s only one tally next to Crocodile- most likely Daz, he thinks. Crocodile would absolutely know right away that Galdino didn’t choose him, and the thought makes Galdino nearly pass out. “I-I need to change my vote!” 

“Sure,” you give the clipboard back to him and Galdino scribbles over the one he gave you to mark one next to Crocodile. 

“Kh... but we’re supposed to be honest…” Galdino mutters. He glances at you, and seeing you patiently waiting and smiling at him makes his heart tighten. 

Gah! Who am I supposed to choose?! My muse or my boss?!

“Are you alright, Galdino?” You asked, making Galdino struggle to form words. Instead, he scribbled over the mark he put next to Crocodile and re-marked a tally next to your name. 

He hands the clipboard back to you and you smile and wave to him. “Thank you, Galdino!” 

“Y-you’re very welcome!” Galdino shouts, unable to control his voice properly around you. You turn around and head back to the office while Galdino lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

He was most likely going to die after this, but seeing your smile was all worth it. He could die happy, even knowing that Crocodile would probably drain him of life later. 

You, however, didn’t notice the longing look Galdino gave you as you open the door to the office. 

“Well, I got all the votes!” 

“Well, who won?” Buggy immediately jumps forward and steals the clipboard from you. He notices that Crocodile and Mihawk hardly have any, with only Crocodile have a mark. “See I wo…” 

His face darkened as he noticed he had only seven votes. 

“What’s the matter, Buggy?” Crocodile smirked. “Can’t handle the fact you lost?” 

“I… wha…” Buggy grips the clipboard roughly, nearly snapping it in half. “How the hell did (Y/n) get all the votes!?” 

Crocodile and Mihawk are caught off guard. 

“Wait, what? (Y/n) won?” Crocodile repeated. 

“I thought I told you to be fair and not cheat!” Mihawk accused you, his golden hawk eyes glaring into yours. 

“I-it wasn’t my fault! Alvida was the one who put my name on the list!” You try to defend yourself. 

“Give me that-” Crocodile snaps as he swipes the poll from Buggy’s hand. Crocodile grunts as he notices page after page marked with tallies from the employees choosing you. He sees Mihawk has none, but that his name has one mark (Daz, of course), and one crossed off (that bastard, Galdino-). Given Crocodile’s attentiveness, he does recognize that yours and Alvida’s handwriting is different, so your story is credible. He huffs and tosses the clipboard, making Mihawk lean over curiously. 

“Not even one vote…” he murmurs. 

Buggy, meanwhile, is distraught, crying on the floor and banging it repeatedly. 

“It’s not fair! Not fair at all! I hate this! I’m the star!” Buggy wails out loud. 

At first, Crocodile did this as a joke to satiate Buggy, but even his own ego is hurt by this new poll. 

“I take it back, you’re getting docked again,” Crocodile threatens, pointing his cigar at you. 

“What?! But I spent all day getting this with the promise of money!” 

“I changed my mind! I wanted a good poll, not whatever the hell this was!” Crocodile yells back. 

“Recount! Recount this!” Buggy shouts. 

“I refuse to lose this competition. Give me an hour, I will win this,” Mihawk says, pushing himself off his couch as he walks out the door to do who knows what. 

The ensuing commotion causes some of the Cross Guild members to peek through the door and watch Buggy screaming in agony at losing while you’re sobbing at the fact you’re losing money due to this dumb poll. 

Alvida rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. 

“Would you guys cut this noise out? It’s driving me mad!” 

“Alvida! This is all your fault!” Buggy yells at Alvida in tears. “I was supposed to win, not (Y/n)!” 

Alvida frowns at Buggy and twirls her mace in her hands. “Are you questioning my decisions?” 

Buggy gulps as he sees the mace casting a shadow over him. 

“N-no, not at all!” He quickly corrects himself, praying Alvida will not maim him to death. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

[carlos-in-glasses]

I'm having some thoughts and feelings, for reasons.

The feelings are that I'm so grateful for this beautiful fandom and the beautiful couple in the picture above. The thoughts are beneath the read more and can be taken or left. The picture cannot be left, however. Taken is the only option. You need to see it because look how cute they are!

For prosperity:

Something I always 'explore', if you will, in my own writing is how people process the concept of time. Endings, beginnings, the past and the future linking up. Your past self always being with you like a spectre. The present feeling like a marble rolling around a tube... I think this is because I'm not good with change or saying goodbye, but I do know that endings always lead to something else. Which is scary, because you don't necessarily know what that will bring.

Thinking about all of the above in terms of Lone Star is a different beast for me personally, because I've never had this kind of experience with a show or characters before, where I'm so compelled by it that I found my way into the fandom and have been creatively stimulated to the point of writing 25+ fics for it (which isn't nearly as many as others have produced! But to me it feels significant). So for that reason I want to say: When the show ends -(WHENEVER THAT MAY BE) - the characters don't. They don't end, not really. As long as we choose to keep talking about the themes, sharing meta posts, writing them or drawing them or creating gif sets, and revisiting them in rewatches or YouTube clips - there they are. Always. Either suspended in their moment and so easy to revisit in all their glory, or put in new situations in fic and art even years into the future. If this hiatus has taught us anything, it's that even without the show on air, there are still plenty of stories to tell and interpretations to be had, based on what came before. When the show ends, the thing that will unfortunately go is the speculation aspect, but what we have instead is a beautiful completed work that can inspire and be meaningful forever to those who already love it and for those who will find it in the future - and it will be found. Anything that exists can be found. (See: deep sea fish that glow in the dark (!)). And things that don't exist can be imagined.

We're so lucky to be the ones in the know when it comes to the show and to Tarlos. We know how special it is, what a gift it is. I'm not a spiritual person but I do feel oddly spiritual when it comes to this. Idk.

Something I've always hoped (as I'm sure we all have) is that we would know ahead of time that it's over. The show not being renewed between seasons is a thought that horrifies me to my core. I remember thinking towards the end of season 4: "At least if it doesn't get renewed, it ends with Tarlos being canon-married." Which, as a Tarlos super-fan, was my no.1. concern, but I love and care about the other characters too of course.

Going into season 5 and fearing it could be the last season, I had a huge tummy ache wondering if Tarlos would be on the rocks. If they ended on a cliffhanger having assumed season 6 was on the cards, we'd never get a resolution. But Rafa's Cameos have really eased my mind in that regard. Based not only on the tiny amount he's given away, but the way he talks about them loving each other, it sounds like they're going to be okay - and we're going to see it for ourselves that Tarlos really is endgame. In a time when hope is needed, we do have this. AND we have each other! As long as Tarlos ends happy, I for one intend to keep dancing, even if it means I'm the eccentric up on the table on my own doing the robot. But I would always like others to dance with.

Whatever happens, which we don't officially know yet, we can get through it together.

[batneko]

bowuigi rock star x roadie AU.

The Mario bros are still plumbers by trade, but they're friends with the guy who manages the nearby concert venue and often get roped in to help out during big shows. They're both stronger than they look, and have plenty of experience at repairs even aside from plumbing. And Luigi has always been good with machines so he takes to the new equipment with ease. Though Mario is better with people and makes friends faster, Luigi is the one that everyone comes to rely on when things go wrong.

At a concert a few years ago Mario got into an actual physical fight with the star, but since the guy was already well-known as an asshole Mario's friend pretended to "fire" him and then brought him back to help out again next week, no big deal. Just can't work the next Bowser concert, that's all.

Bowser got famous when he was only eighteen, which means he never really had to grow up. He's spent the last ten years getting his way and experiencing no consequences (as long as he punched down). However now that his son is old enough to talk about how he feels and what he wants, Bowser is starting to realize he's been absent at best and a phenomenally bad example, and wants to start being better. Too bad he has no idea how.

His star is also starting to fade, and he feels conflicted about that. He's had enough hits now that as long as he manages his portfolio well and does enough stupid celebrity appearances to keep himself in the public eye, he'll never have to work again. But he likes performing, he likes rock, he doesn't want to be the "cameo appearance by" guy. He's not even thirty yet, dammit!

So he's doing this show at a slightly-smaller venue he hadn't ever intended to return to (some little guy with a mustache tried to step to him last time), and trying to figure out how much he can cut down on touring and still be able to afford the nanny and all the stuff he likes, and some intern just told him "my grandma loves you!" and then one of the subwoofers explodes and the replacement won't work for some reason and the concert is in twenty goddamn minutes and Bowser is going to lose it.

But out of nowhere another little guy with a mustache (not the same one as before? that one got fired, right? this one's cuter anyway) turns up and fixes the replacement and gets everything back on track so efficiently that Bowser is on stage ready to go with ten minutes to spare.

Come to think of it, that same little guy had been the one organizing the roadies to unload all the equipment earlier. And Bowser's pretty sure he was running the sound check. Does he do everything around here?

In the middle of his concert as Bowser is about to start a rather raunchy song, he suddenly says, "This one goes out to the guy who fixed my subwoofer and saved the show. Come to my dressing room after and I'll thank you properly." There's laughter from the audience (plausibly-deniable bisexuality has been a part of rock music for as long as there's been rock music) and Bowser adds, "I'm not joking," and then starts the song.

After the concert, Luigi comes to his dressing room.

True to his word, Bowser is all set to get down to business, but it turns out there was some work that needed running by him and everyone figured Luigi had earned some goodwill so they made him go. He didn't even watch the concert, he was too busy working behind the scenes.

Of course this only comes out after Luigi was halfway seduced to go ahead and let an asshole rock star blow him, but Bowser is so embarrassed at the misunderstanding that he throws him out into the hallway, breathless and disheveled. A lot of people see him and a few people caught Bowser's dedication, so by the end of the night everyone assumes it happened anyway.

And that was just the Friday show. There's one more to get through tomorrow.

[dazed--xx]

Breathless

Member: Hyunjin x reader  

Word count: 21.3K

IDOL CAMEOS: Karina-Aespa, Yeji-Itzy, Lia-Itzy, Joshua-Seventeen, Chanyeol-Exo

Trigger warnings:  SMUT, toxic relationships, ANGST, oral sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), fake texts, mentions of alcholism (By side character), mentions of cheating, mentions of medical issues, mentions of anxiety. anything else i could have forgotten.

A/N:  I wanted to start writing for other groups for a while, and i watched the Case 143 comeback and just fell down a Stray Kids rabbit hole again so i decide to write this i hope you guys enjoy, let me know if you want a part two. also i do commissions, personally i dont like buy me a coffee but i do have cashapp, paypal and venmo if you ever want to get a commission i do still have a buy me a coffee as well anyway enjoy

“Can't you stay?”  

Your voice is shaky as you look at him with hope filled eyes. You could tell even just from looking at his back, as an annoyed sigh is released from his lips, he had rolled his eyes. “Cant. Sorry” He states matter of factly. He wasn’t sorry... you knew he wasn’t; he never was. He always said it anytime you'd ask, never giving a reason beyond ‘cant’ yet you still find yourself asking “w-why not?” your tone is so soft you don’t even register the words had actually come out until he snaps “I mean it's not really your business is it?” quickly turning to face you as he forces his shirt on. “Does it matter?” your teeth capture your bottom lip as you hold the blanket over your bare chest. Your gaze avoiding his glare “I guess not...” the familiar prick behind your eyes has your vision blurring. You hear your bedroom door open “H-have fun I guess....” you call to him only to be met with the sound of the door closing.

Of course, not.... You hadn't expected as much anyway.  

  In the past 10 months of your relationship with him you have learned plenty of things about Hwang Hyunjin. He was a passionate dance major, spending more time in the dance studio than in his own dorm. He had a love for art, with dozens of classic paintings littering his dorm. Along with his own. He was independent, charming, and undeniably gorgeous. But he was also cold, distant, and lacked social etiquette. He was quick to tell you exactly what was on his mind whether it hurt or not. If he chose not to vocalize his disinterest; his expression was an open book for all to read anyway. He enjoyed the party lifestyle, if his social media was anything to go by, he’d often be spotted in the background of photos with his best friends; Seo Changbin and Han Jisung.

Everyone in your university wanted at least one of them. Most of the female population had a ‘night to remember’ story with either one of them. They were blunt and honest about their lack of commitment, only needing a warm body as a temporary place holder in their beds.

Relationships were off the table. Sure, they’d be down for a good time here or there but in Jisung’s own words “Relationships equal clingy annoying problems” which is why you were so surprised when Hyunjin asked for exclusivity oh so matter of factly last year. You had been sleeping together on and off after your dance instructors paired you up for your first joint project between both of your classes. It had been a late night in the studio running through one of your last rehearsals before evaluations. You weren't sure if it was the close sensual nature of the choreography, thanks to Hyunjin, or the ambiance in the dimly lit studio but as the song came to its conclusion; both of your chests heaving against each other, your eyes meet. Your bottom lip finds its way in between your teeth. His hand caressing your cheek as his thumb traces over your bottom lip “Fuck......Don't. Don’t do that” his voice full of something unfamiliar to you. “Do what?” you ask innocently your hands grip his shirt. His hold on you tightens around your waist, pulling you closer into his slim muscular figure. The tip of his tongue brushes over his plush lips. Your cheeks and ears burn a bright scarlet. Looking back, you weren't entirely sure who initiated it but soon, your lips meet. Shortly after you felt the cool glass mirror against your bare chest as Hyunjin attacked your core. His thrusts ruthless until you reached a mind-bendingng orgasm. Youd only realized your mistake afterward when he quickly fixed his clothes and ran out the door.  

You took the loss in stride. Avoiding the topic during the last 2 weeks of rehearsal, acting as if it never happened. You never stayed alone with him longer than necessary, you'd pull away the moment the song came to an end even though sometimes he’d try to hold you in place for a while longer. Youd make sure the studio was properly lit at all times. Only texting him about rehearsals and quickly dismissing his selfies and flirty remarks. You would begin spending your lunch in the university library when Jisung set his sights on your best friend, Karina, and he and his best friends began impeding on your time with your best friends. Only truly having to come face to face with Hyunjin at your evaluation.  

As the song came to a close you ripped yourself from Hyunjin’s grasp, thanked the judges for their time, collected your phone and made your way out of the studio and into the locker room. Reaching your locker, you force your dance bag out of its confinement. A sigh of relief is released from your throat. Your eyes focusing on the mirror you kept on the back wall; you steady your breathing. Closing the door, the need to shower now replacing your anxiety. Turning toward the private showers your face is met with a wall of muscle. The familiar cologne fills your nostrils, dread fills your stomach as you silently beg the ground to swallow you whole. “Sorry” you murmur as you attempt to make your way around him. A small ‘tsk’ is heard from above you as he places himself in front of you again. “Do you have a problem or something?” you snap. An amused smirk finds its way to his plush lips. Damn you Hwang, you think to yourself, as he shrugs and shakes his head. “Why are you avoiding me?” He pouts. You hate how your heart races “I'm not” you shrug “Just no reason for us to interact anymore” his eyebrows scrunch together his pout only growing at your words “You don’t want me anymore?” needless to say you ended that interaction pressed against the shower wall his lips attached to your neck as he guides you on his shaft. Only for the cycle to continue over and over until your presence in each other's lives was nonstop. Then one day he had asked you to be his girlfriend with a nonchalant shrug, murmuring back a shy ‘yes’ and 10 months later your cat and mouse game continued.  

Apart from the occasional quickie or stolen kiss, you rarely see the man that claims to be your boyfriend. Your offers to accompany him to the studio remain declined, stolen moments with him moved from the library study rooms to either one of your dorms in the late hours of the night. You should have seen his rejection coming; it's all he’s ever done. His friends, the studio, parties all get more of Hyunjin’s time than you. With the summer coming to an end and the dance studio finally opening up again tonight, you knew immediately he’d go; especially with it being all the other dance majors can talk about due to the party being held there.  

“UM....HELLOOO!!!” your dormmate Lia, exclaimed as she snapped in front of your eyes pulling you out of your trance. You glare at her petite frame. “Busy in wonderland there, Alice?” she giggles. “HA.HA. You’re so funny I forgot to laugh.” you quip. “Anyway...what's up?” you question adjusting the blanket, Lia places a pout on her lips “I need a favor”

“If it's buying condoms for you again the answer is no” you growl.  

“No, smartass. Not this time, but I'm really busy studying for the stupid exam I have tomorrow since my psychology professor is a psychopath and Yeji is sick do you think you can run and grab some medicine for her?” she pleads. You smirk at her “What if I was busy?”  

“With what? Hwang left already. You’re going to spend the rest of the night in bed. Like you always do” she snarls before she turns and makes her way out the door.  

“Love you. Goodnight.” she calls

______________________________________________________________

You couldn’t help but get lost in the beauty that is Jongno-gu, walking along the river toward Yeji’s off campus dorm. Your eyes drift to the beautiful lights that decorate the road indicating the little restaurants and shops. An envious feeling grows in the pit of your stomach as a young man chases his girlfriend around the gorgeous area; smiles plastered on their faces as he finds his arms encasing her from behind. Lucky....you think to yourself. If only you were more like Lia or Yeji or Karina. You take a single pause in your movements. A memory growing in your mind of you having to spend your last paycheck at your summer job your senior year on bail for Karina due to her ex cheating on her and her taking a bat to his car and him. Okay maybe not Karina......you thought. The whirring of an engine cutting your thoughts off as a single headlight blinds you. You force yourself right and collide with the hard concrete. Brushing your hair out of your face before you dust off your legs. Pulling yourself off the ground, you notice the motorcyclist shoving the bike off his leg. “Oh my god! Are-Are you okay?” Your eyes widen in panic as you rush toward the driver. He unbuckles his helmet and pulls it off.  

Your heart races as honey blonde hair begins blowing subtly in the small wisps of wind. His brown eyes sitting in a scowl. You couldn’t help but stare at his heart shaped plush lips, noticing the freckles that litter his face.  

Fuck...

He was absolutely mesmerizing. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the roar of multiple engines. His eyes widen as he stares in the direction he came, tossing his helmet into your arms he takes off in the direction you had just come from. Your eyes widen as you stare down at the glossy black and red headgear. “E-Excuse--” you tried to call after him as 4 motorbikes whip past you following after the mystery man. You contemplate just leaving the helmet on the bike and returning to your task. You groan to yourself as you notice the headlight still on and the idling of the engine. You stomp your foot in frustration.  

Ughh this is so not worth my time....  

You notice the bikes disappearing in the distance. Taking the helmet and placing it on the ground before you grab the handlebars of the motorcycle and after a long struggle you were finally able to lift it. Bringing the kickstand down you place the helmet on the seat. The tightness in your chest from the unexpected work out has you reconsidering if you care if the bike got stolen or not; the owner obviously didn’t. You stare in the direction of Yeji’s place noticing the beautiful welcoming lights. You growl to yourself as you slowly lift the kickstand taking hold of the handlebars once again you drag the vehicle in the direction its owner dashed to. Your eyes roam the area as you wearily drag the bike along in search of its owner. You notice a group of motorcycles in the parking lot to the docks. Hiding the bike behind the dumpster in front of said lot. Helmet in your arms, you quietly make your way toward the sound of shouting. You can hear them getting louder as you stand against a pilar attached to the side of the dock. You notice the honey blonde stranger dashing toward the end of the pier you were currently on. You thanked God no one saw you as they dashed past you. You throw your head back in relief and in an instant a sharp pain rings through the back of your skull.  

You groan placing your hand over your mouth and rolling your eyes at your foolishness. Your heart sinks into your ass as red and blue lights begin to come from behind you and the loud wail of a siren rings through the air. Your eyes widen in bewilderment as you quickly try to find an off switch on the unexpectedly placed 112 help box. You can hear the sounds of the boys retreat as you continuously hit the box. The siren finally coming to a halt.

You let out a sigh of relief as you slowly back out from your hiding spot. Your back meeting a warm wall.  where one previously was not; you jump at the contact, whipping around you come face to face with the angelic honey blonde stranger. A gasp escapes your throat at the sudden closeness, his lips were drawn in a straight line, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you a stalker or something?” he questions, you were shocked at the amount of bass in his voice. Your eyebrows scrunch together letting out an annoyed scoff as you turn to leave. A ‘tsk’ is released from his lips as his hand grabs your hood and pulls you back into his chest; his arm snakes around your waist. You turn your head to face him, your heart races as your noses brush. Your eyes widen as you pull back, your eyes roaming over his face. They land on his alluring heart shaped lips. You wondered what it would be like to kiss them, though you don’t believe they’d feel as good as Hyunjin’s, they do look quite soft. Butterflies danced in your stomach, as his lips turned up into an amused smirk “What are you looking at?” He quips. Your face is painted a bright scarlet as you force yourself from his arms “Bye!” you call as you dash toward the direction of Yeji’s place. You can hear his deep raspy voice calling toward you as you continue your escape; completely and utterly embarrassed. Your legs refusing to stop until you finally reach Yeji’s door. Knocking as you try to catch your breath.  

“Finally,” Yeji declares as she swings open her door. Her cheeks a rosy, pink, lilac fluffy blanket enveloping her petite figure. “Where the hell did you get a helmet?”

______________________________________________________________

You hate Mondays.  

And not in the Garfield way or the ‘79 school shooter way. You just hate them with a passion from today on. After yesterday's rounds with Hyunjin and the motorcycle debacle your body is absolutely sore and ready to give up on itself. Regretting even getting out of bed, you stare tiredly at the gates of the university. You scowl at the crowds of people with happy smiles on their faces, coffee in hand. A yawn escapes from your throat before you could stop it, you notice a small crowd standing under the cherry blossom tree. Your hair races as you recognize the familiar blonde tresses, a smile on his lips as he slightly shoves Jisung. You take a small step forward before your movements halt; a petite brunette and what you could assume to be her friends came into to view. Her hand lay on Hyunjin’s bicep before she slowly trails it along his arm. He smiles at her leaning in and whispering something in her ear. A gut-wrenching sting fills your stomach as your throat burns with jealousy when you see him remove a petal from her hair and stroke a stray hair behind her ear. Your breathing grows shaky as tears threaten to fall.  

A manicured hand snapping in your face forces you to pull your attention away from the pair. You smile as a coffee is handed to you; a pair of arms are wrapped around your neck as you come face to face with your childhood best friend, Yoo Ji-Min (who’d kill you if you called her anything but Karina. Her new name she had claimed when she declared she wanted to be an idol 5 years ago). “What are we staring at?” she questions as she places her cheek against yours releasing you from her grasp as she notices the pair. “Seriously?” she scoffs. You shake your head at her tone “They're just talking....” you mumble. She crosses her arms over her chest “Thats why I found you alone instead of over there like last year?” she growls. You shrug in response “I don’t want to bother with it right now, I'm so tired”  

“What are you doing for your intro solo today?” she asks, your whole-body tenses as your eyes widen in realization “crying?” you respond. “You?! The queen of having everything planned down to the second of a song doesn’t have a plan? Like no choreo at all?” Karina gasps as she drags you along the path to the dance building. “Don't remind me, okay? I went through too much last night! And no are you crazy of course I have some choreo it's just not........up to my standards I guess” you whine as you stomp your foot pressing your chest against her arm with your chin sitting on her shoulder. “So then, you're ready” she smirks wrapping her arm around your shoulders. “You over think these things Y/N you need to relax honestly, you're a great choreographer and you're only in your second semester! Your dance is fine” she reassures you.  

You shrug in response “Not this time....” your eyes can't help but drift to the pair once again. The girl leaned against the cherry blossom tree, Hyunjin stood a little too close as she giggled at something he was saying. “No! THIS time I decided ‘oh let's be special lets at stunts’ and then completely forget I even had to do the damn dance and now I'm going to make a complete fool of myself. The instructor already emailed me personally to tell me she was looking forward to my solo specifically, I can’t go in there and fall on my---BIKE!!!!” Your whines were cut off by a loud shout and the familiar roar of an engine grew louder. Hearing it come closer and closer to you, you whip your head around only to see the familiar silhouette of a motorcycle barreling toward you; quickly wrapping both of your hands around Karina’s arms you shove her back with your back pressed against her chest. Your heart races as you notice the black and red bike. Your eyes flashing to the driver, “no. Way...." You whisper to yourself in disbelief as the driver cuts off the engine and pulls off the matte black helmet. The same angelic glowing stupid face...you think to yourself. You notice a group of guys greeting him with warm cheers and hugs. A glare sits on your face as anger courses through your veins like venom. Releasing your hold on Karina you stomp your way over to the honey blonde boy.  

He smiles as your eyes meet; your hands quickly meet his chest as you shove him back. A loud ‘oh’ is heard from the small crowd of boys. “That is the second and last time you almost kill me with that thing” you exclaim as you shove him again. His hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you into his chest. Fighting against his hold you notice the smug smirk on his lips. Your knee jerks into his thigh. He jumps at the close call. “If you don’t want me to hit you there let me, go cause that was the warning shot.” you growl. “Are you calm?” he questions. “I won't hit you again if that’s what you're asking” at your words his grip is released on your waist.  

As soon as you were free you punched his arm  

“You said!”

“I lied! Do you have a thing for almost running me over or can you just not see for shit?” He places his finger in his chin as if he were thinking “I think it’s a you thing” You glare at him “I should have let your stupid bike get stolen” you grumble as you turn to return to Karina. Your movements are brought to a halt as you notice all eyes on you. Your eyes drift over the crowd as you feel a hand on your wrist. You turn your head to the owner “Wait.” he smiles. Your heart races as your eyes meet “w-what?”  

“You still have my helmet, gorgeous” he whispers in your ear. Your eyes widen in realization as you pull away from him. “Fuck! I do!” You exclaim “I'm so sorry I'll bring it to you tomorrow” your eyes fall on Karina who looked on in amusement a mischievous glint in her eye. Looking past her, you notice Hyunjin’s attention fully on you; a scowl on his face his arm wrapped in Jisung’s grip. “She your girlfriend Lixie?” One of his friends teased as you stomp past them. You glare at him, Bang Chan, the school's number 1 in academics a senior. Deciding it's better to just let it go you shake your head and stomp away.  

Karina rushes to your side, her hands quickly wrapping themselves around your arm as she drags you toward the dance building.  

“Explain. Now.” she demands

______________________________________________________________

You can't help the smile that remains planted on your lips as you enter the dance studio. Dropping your bags in the corner and out of the way you drag Karina to the center of the room and dropping into your position for stretching. The studio always made you find a sense of relief and comfort. You loved the way you’d lose yourself in the choreography. You were quite flexible; taking advantage of the gymnastics and taekwondo skills you’ve acquired over the years now making you able to include high level stunts in your routines. While you wouldn’t say you were the best dancer in your major, you could argue you were in the top 15. Changing from your legs open to spreading into a straddle you grasp Karinas hands as she slowly lays back.  

“Damn Y/N, if I knew you could do that, I definitely would have hit that before Hwang” Jisung whispered in your ear, a scoff is released from your throat as your head whips around to see Jisung only a couple of inches from your face. Your eyes widen as you pull your head farther away from his face. “What is wrong with you?” You question in disgust as a black boot comes in contact with Jisung’s ribcage kicking him over. Your eyes trail up the person's figure, only to be met with your boyfriend's bored expression focused on you his hands sitting in his pockets. You quickly look away as your cheeks heat up, butterflies fluttering all over your stomach. “It was a fucking joke....” Jisung mumbled, as he glides across the floor next to Karina “Kiss it better?” he pouts to her. You feel a warmth surrounding you, a pair of arms wrapping around your waist. You notice Jisung staring awestruck at Karina while she did her split stretching one up and leaning back. “Do that on me please” He begs her, her cheeks burn a bright scarlet. You feel Hyunjin’s fingers losing themselves in your hair as he places his face in your neck. You tangle your fingers in his hair, a shy smile growing on your face; your ears and cheeks burning a bright scarlet at the new action.  

“Oh my god! Why are you here?” Karina snaps both of your eye's flash to her and Jisung who now had his head on her shoulder “Aren't you a music major?” He lifts his head from her and places his hand on his chest “You’re keeping tabs on me?!” A sly smirk grows on his face “You should just let me give you what you want baby”  

“I'd rather fuck a double-edged sword” She growls.

“Can I watch?”  

“Why are you such a fan? Huh Simp Boy?”  

“You act like you don’t want me” Jisung counters, his eyebrow raised. You shake your head as you roll your eyes. “Ladies” you interrupt “You’re both pretty” you groan before you reluctantly pull yourself from Hyunjin’s grasp and stand up. You can feel his eyes on you as you make your way toward the water fountain. “Where are you going?” Karina calls. “Away from whatever the fuck is going on with you two” you retort.  

Taking a deep breath, you feel the uncomfortable pressure that filled you once Hyunjin’s arms encased you. That’s odd... you thought Hes never done anything like that before.  

You remember the scowl embedded on his face, Jisung’s hand wrapped firmly around his wrist. You know you'd have to explain the interaction......possibly, judging by the way he, himself, was flirting with another girl this morning he more than likely wouldn’t even care. You laugh at the irony; you don’t understand why you felt so guilty when he didn’t, yet you did. “Wow helmets leave some water for the fish” A familiar deep velvety voice rings from behind you. You hate how annoyingly sexy you find it----Helmet?!?! A glare forms on your eyes as you turn to face him. “Are you stalking me or something?” A bright smile is brought to his face, your heart flutters at the action, a warmth grows in your stomach.  

“Why, Helmet you seem to think highly of yourself” He quips, his eyebrow raised “Why? you into that sort of thing?” he winks. Your mouth falls agape at his question. How could someone that looks so angelic be such a.........demon. “Stop calling me that! My name is Y/N”  

“Well do I have my helmet?”

“Well, no but---But nothing until I have my very expensive helmet back, you'll be whatever I call you” He cut you off “You'll have it tomorrow until then-------OKAY PEOPLE! I don’t have all day so I’ll make this quick. Places! I'm explaining this one time and one time only. You will all be doing your intro solos if you aren't prepared that’s not my problem; everyone got the email. Everyone will be required to perform a routine that best represents your dance style; you will then be paired up with another person that’s style matches your own. They will be your partner for the rest of the semester. Any Questions?” The instructor declared as she barreled through the double doors, dropping her bag and placing herself at the head of the room. Everyone's eyes roamed around the room as the stragglers began to join the semi-circle that had formed due to the instructor's abrupt entrance. You notice a familiar pixie like brunette in your place beside Hyunjin.

  Great......she's here too.... you thought to yourself.  

“Okay! Yang Ye-na you're up” the instructor calls as the girl stands from her spot and makes her way to the center of the room. You grow envious at the winks her and Hyunjin exchange. You notice the darkness in his eyes as he stares her down. Embarrassment fills you as you beg the ground to swallow you whole. Tears burn your eyes at the realization, He doesn’t care......You were so fucking stupid to think you were different; that he wanted you and only you. Of course, he’d want her, she was absolutely flawless. Her beautiful wavy hair pulled up in a half up half down style; her bangs framed her face perfectly. Her body was curvy in all the right places while you were just average. Hyunjin was practically a god, why would he actually waste his time on you when he could be with women on his level. You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sounds of applause. Quickly joining in with your peers, you clap unenthusiastically.  

The rest of the performances flew by, you received high praises for your choreography to ‘Unholy’ by Sam Smith. Yet, you quickly placed yourself where you previously sat and tucked your face behind your hair. Continuing your train of (over) thought. Going through the motions as everyone performed but Karina. You couldn’t help yourself when your best friend performed. Your applause louder than the rest of the class as her song came to its conclusion. A proud smile on your face. “Okay! That was the final dancer, good job everyone.” the instructor calls as she tapes a paper to the mirror. “Here are your partners” she declares as she walks toward the back of the room. Everyone quickly rushed over to the list.

Choi Yeonjun-Han Eunji

Han Jisung-Yoo Ji-Min

Hwang Hyunjin-Yang Ye-na

Jung Wooyoung- Hwang Yeji

Kang Chanhee-Kwon Eunbin

Lee Juyeon-Kim Min-Jeong

Lee Minho-Lee Chae-yeon

Lee Yongbok-Park Y/N

Son Dongju-Lee Seoyeon

Your heart sank in your chest as Karina grasped your arm examining the list. A scowl grows on her flawless feature. Her mouth hanging open as she internally rages. “NO!” she finally exclaims. You hear a chuckle from behind you, turning around your met with Jisung standing with an arrogant smirk “It's like were meant to be or something” He laughs. Karina fakes a gag as she shoves her way out of the crowd. Jisung reaches out to her “But Baby!” you couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. Shoving your own way out, you notice Hyunjin and Ye-na huddled in the corner by the speaker. A smile planted on his lips as he sat beside her. Your eyebrows scrunch together as they shift closer. You knew his reputation but at least last year he was fucking subtle. Why'd he even ask you out? You wonder to yourself. It's not like he actually acted like he was in a relationship. It was always late-night booty calls when no one could dare catch either of you leaving the others dorm. Your texts typically go unanswered and if he does take the time to respond it's always one or two words. You notice his hand now placed on her knee, as he stared at her. Wow you thought to yourself.

Your view of the pair is blocked by the one person you wished you'd never have to deal with again. “WOW!” you roll your eyes at his enthusiasm. You notice Hyunjin and Ye-na's attention leaving each other and turning it to the loud boom of the boys' voice in front of you. You finally plant your eyes on his face, his eyes are squinted adorably as his heart shaped lips formed an angelic smile. “Looks like were partners, Helmet” He states happily “It's like fate. Maybe you're like my soulmate or something?” you groan in response “or god just hates me....” you stomp your foot, grabbing your water bottle from the ground and shoving past him toward Karina.  

“C’mon Helmet, don’t break my heart already” He whined as he followed you wrapping his arm around your shoulder and jostling your hair. “Yah! Do you want to die?!” you threaten as you shove him off you and fix your hair. You hold back a laugh as, Yongbok apparently, trips over his feet and comes colliding with the person walking past. Your hand smacks over your mouth as you snicker while he bows his head at the person mumbling a quick apology before springing up and reaching for you. You hold your arm out your finger pointed at him “No, whatever it is youre planning. Unplan it” you warn as you take a step back. He feigns innocence shaking his head and holding his hands up in surrender.  

“Cute” he states matter of factly

“What?”

“Nothing just the fact that you thing you're scary is cute”

“Okay. No.” you hear from behind Yongbok before you feel a strong grip on your arm as you are whisked toward the door. Your eyes land on your captor, the familiar mop of blonde hair. Your eyes widen as you look at Karina pleading for her help. She sat comfortably in her position giving you a knowing smirk.  

You stumbled on your feet as Hyunjin continued to drag you out of the studio. You struggle to stay up right as to you tried to keep up with his pace. Your nerves build as he pulls you into an empty studio locking the door before he shoved you against the wall. A loud ‘THUD’ rings through the room. Your eyes drift over his flawless features, an irritated glare planted on his eyes. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?” he growls wrapping his hand around your throat sending a shock to your core. Your eyebrows scrunch together as a confused pout forms on your lips “W-what?” He presses his body against yours “Dont act fucking stupid” he snaps his grip getting tigher on your throat making your panties grow wet. “Hyun, I really don’t know what youre tal---Why was he all over you?” he cuts you off. You’re completely awestruck at his question. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, the words not coming to you

His patience grew thinner as each second passed. You hate to admit it to yourself but he has you absolutely soaked. “I-its not like that” you finally mutter “I just met him”

“When?”

“When what?”

“when did you meet him?” he asks “you two seem.....comfortable” you almost laugh at the irony, he had some nerve that’s for sure. “I mean its not really your business is it?” you quip throwing his words from last night back at him “Does it matter?” you see a fire grow in his eyes “so what? Youre fucking him now?” He spits. An offended scoff is released from your throat “Sure, I mean its not like youre the only person I've fucked for the past few months.” You argue.  

“Does he know that?”  

“Does Ye-na?” you counter.  

A smug smirk grows on his lips, as his eyes drift to your lips. “Does he know how hard I fuck you?” Hyunjin asks as he turns you around pressing your chest against the cool wall. You whine at his rough action. “I just met him!” you declare “Yet he has a little name for you” His nip at your ear, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair gripping it roughly and forcing your head back. You groan internally at the mention of the new nickname. You hate how easily Hyunjin turns you into a whimpering pleasing mess for him. His arousal evident as he presses his member against you. His lips brush over your ear, his free hand trailing over your jaw before gripping your chin and forcing you to face him. Your bottom lip finds its way in-between your teeth. Your eyes connecting once more, his grasp on your hair tightens. Suppressing a moan, you squeeze your thighs together pressing your ass firmly against his hard member.

Your breaths fill the air as your body trembles in arousal and hints of fear. You’ve never seen Hyunjin this mad or angry in general. His eyes burned holes into you, your eyes flashing behind him. Your body jumps when you feel his soft plush lips on your throat; fingers wrapping in his hair pulling him closer to you. It was no secret to anybody, including Hyunjin, that you were weak for him. Even if you typically would not stand for half of the things, he put you through you still find yourself making excuses for it time and time again. Yet, in moments like this, where you can see that glint in his eye you can trick yourself into thinking you were more than a temporary fascination. You hate how badly you want him despite his previous actions in the day. You’ve never been the bratty type, but the look on Hyunjin’s face unlocks a new part of you. You’ve never thought to actually test Hyunjin’s limits and see how far you could take things like he’s done oh so many times before. Still, you can't find yourself stopping the words before they come out.  

“Hes cute isn't he?” A mischievous smirk plays on your lips. “And he’s my dance partner. You never know what could happen when you have to be so......close” you whisper in his ear seductively. You could practically feel yourself dripping in anticipation when you feel Hyunjin’s body tense against yours; Pulling back you can't help the warmth that grows in your chest when you notice the panicked expression painting Hyunjin’s face. His jaw clenches as his strong grip returns to your hair pulling you forward so your faces were only centimeters apart. “You wanna repeat that? I don’t think I heard you correctly” He challenges, you knew this was your one and only chance to take back what you said but you felt a little rebellious considering he was all but sucking face with Ye-na; so instead you chuckle “Don’t worry babe, you’ll always be my favorite” using another one of his infamous lines. You can see why he always antagonizes you when you berate him for never knowing when to draw the line; because the panicked look on his face and possessive grip he holds on to you has you ready to risk it all.  

“I better be your only” He growls as he shoves your faces closer together finally closing the space between your lips. You moan at the contact; his hand releases your chin wrapping itself around your waist pulling you deeper into his form. His teeth nibbling at your bottom lip “only me, baby” he whines against your lips “Hyun, you know I only want you” you reassure between kisses. You whine as he pulls himself away and releases his grip on your hair. A look of confusion falls on your face as you turn to look at him. A squeak is released from your throat as his arms encase your waist. His lips attack your neck leaving a wet trail along his path to your sweet spot. You whimper against him as your hands find their way under his shirt, roaming along his muscular torso. You feel a shock run down your spine and into your core as he sucked roughly on the sensitive skin leaving a large purplish red mark, as his fingers dance along the waistband of your leggings. “All mine...” he groans in your ear, the roughness in his voice making you almost cum in your panties. You nod in excitement at his words as his hand plunges into your waistband. Not wasting anytime, he quickly enters your panties his fingers teasing your slit.

You jump at the feeling, a whimper forcing its way out. “Can he make your pretty pussy this wet?” He questions as he rubs circles into the bud. You shake your head in response; He brings his fingers to a halt. You practically cry “D-daddy, please...” you beg grasping at the waistband of his joggers. “Use your words, baby” He teases “Can your little dance partner make your pussy as wet as daddy does?” You bite your lip as he begins his motions again “N-No” you moan. Hyunjin brings his lips centimeters from yours; your lips brushing ever so slightly as he continued his toying with your sensitive clit.  

“No what?”  

“He doesn’t even get me wet at all daddy”  

Hyunjin gives you a faux pout “Aww baby, that’s cause even this tight little pussy knows who owns it” you nod in response, your eyes roll to the back of your head as he plunges two digits into your hole. His lips connect with yours as he roughly begins pumping his fingers into your core hitting the familiar bundle of nerves deliciously. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip before groaning and forcing his tongue into your mouth. You moan against his lips as his tongue dominates your mouth. Your hand palming him over his joggers, “Yeah you're doing so good, you only want to be good for me, huh baby?” His voice is rough, lips swollen as he presses his forehead against yours; his hips buck into your hand. “Y-yes daddy” you whimper “no one but you” His lips press against yours hungrily, his fingers thrusting mercilessly; you nibble on his bottom lip as your hands roam over his body. Your mouth hangs open as a familiar knot builds in your stomach. “I-I'm gonna---” your words are cut off as Hyunjin’s pace speeds up bringing you over the edge. “Fuck cum for me” He groans as his lips attack your throat. “Only daddy could make you feel this good baby, fuck... you got my cock so fucking hard” You can only respond with a moan, your fingers run through his hair pulling him deeper into you. Your legs are shaking as you come down from your high. He pulls his hand out of your pants lifting his fingers to your mouth. You connect your eyes as you bring his fingers into your mouth, his mouth hangs open at the action; pupils blown out.

“You look so pretty when you act like a little slut for me, baby” He coos

Your cheeks heat up at the praises, unable to hide your smile you bury your face in his neck. You hear a chuckle rumble through his chest, his arms tighten around your waist pressing you against him. Your cheeks burn a bright scarlet under his gaze, you pull back from him. His eyes are hooded, lust clouding over them. His tongue traces over his bottom lip, before connecting them with yours once more. A gasp is released from your throat as your back is pressed against the wall, his hand running down your thigh lifting your leg at the knee pressing you even deeper against him. Your hips buck at the contact of his clothed member “Are you gonna be a good girl and let daddy fuck you?” he groans against your lips. You nod enthusiastically, “pl-please daddy, I'll be so good for you” your hands run over his chest and along his abdomen as you pressed small kisses against his neck earning a moan from Hyunjin. The sound has you enthusiastically sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. Your heart swelled with pride as you observed the mark you had left on his neck, your eyes trailing over him only to be greeted with a fucked-out expression on his face. Letting his forehead fall against yours, your noses brushing ever so slightly “Fuck baby....” He whispers against your lips “as much I'd love to fuck your mouth right now I need to be inside you” His hand quickly forces your leggings down around your ankles taking your panties with them before freeing his own member from its confines.  

Your mouth waters at the sight, his hand wrapped around his shaft as his painfully red tip leaked precum. Before you knew it your chest was once again pressed against the cool wall. Hyunjin’s large hand cups your ass before giving it a loud, painful smack.  

“Fuck...” you groan. Throwing your head back in pleasure as Hyunjin’s cock glided up and down on your folds teasing your clit.  

“Please...” you whine

“Please what baby?”  

“Please fuck me Daddy”  

You feel Hyunjin’s hips thrust forward at your words, before pulling away slightly. “Fuck” He growls your head whipping around to see him searching his bag and wallet a frustrated scowl on his face. “What is it?” you question removing your pants as he throws his bag to the ground “I don’t have a condom” Oh. A disappointed pout forms on your lips, you bite your lip before nervously suggesting “I mean.... I am on birth control” your eyes roam over the room before landing on him. His expression turning from frustrated, to confused before his mouth hangs open in realization. “Are you sure?” He can't even begin to try to hide his enthusiasm. “I-I mean unless you don’t want to” your voice is small, your eyes not meeting his “s-sorry I shouldn’t have suggested it” you apologize. “Come here” he calls as he sits against the sofa in the corner. You hesitantly make your way over standing in front of him shyly. His hand takes a hold of yours pulling you into his lap, so you straddle his hips. His hand caresses your cheek, “Do you want me to fuck you raw baby?” You try to hide your face in his neck as his hands trail over your thighs. He brushes his nose with yours “No, look at me” Your eyes connect as you nod biting your bottom lip grinding your bare pussy against his shaft. Weak whimpers leave your throat as he connects your lips.  

“Fuck I can't get enough of you baby” He moans pressing your hips tighter against him increasing the friction on your clit. His tip continuously teases at your hole. Your hand sliding between your bodies holding his member in place before gliding him inside you slowly. Your eyes fall on Hyunjin, his mouth hung open as his head fell back against the sofa. “F-fuck...” his hands hold you in place “Don't. Don’t move yet” he struggled to get out. His heart raced as he stared at you behind hooded eyes, your cheeks a bright red. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as his cock twitched inside you. He fights the need to cum embarrassingly fast. He had just gotten inside you and he felt like he would explode already. He struggles not to thrust mercilessly into you as you press your chest against his. His lips following yours until they meet his hands guiding you up and down on his member. Hyunjin could have sworn he’d seen stars. For the many times he’s had sex, he’s never even thought to go raw but during the course of your relationship he couldn’t help but imagine the scenario every single time he was inside you. He wondered what it would be like to paint your walls with his cum. You’d always taken him so well; he gets lost in the sight of his cock disappearing inside your tight little pussy. “Look at you baby” He moans “I bet your dance partner would love to be me right now” your pussy clenches at his words.  

He hated how jealous he had gotten, but how fucking dare that guy? You were his. He fought the urge to fuck up into you harshly to remind you of who you belonged to; him. “Fuck daddy you stretch my pussy out so well” you moan. He holds back a smile at the almost pornographic noises coming out of your mouth. He could never get over this feeling, he loved every moment he had a chance to spend ruining the innocence your beautiful face portrays. He loved the look on your face as you came around him. And him only. He craved your body every time he was away from you wanting to bury himself deep inside your womb and remain there. He lost his will to hold back as your lips attacked his neck once again; an action he used to detest but now he found himself praying for you to leave your mark on him. Claim him for the rest of the world to see. “You’re doing so well” He praises as his hips find a steady rhythm into your g spot. “You make daddy feel so good, baby” a feral growl is released from his chest as you come undone with a moan of his name. His resolve completely breaks as he feels the familiar knot forming in his stomach. “It's like you were fucking made for me” he laments “All mine baby fuck I'm gonna cum deep inside your little pussy” his arms hold you against him tightly his eyes rolling to the back of his head “P-Please daddy cum deep inside my pussy” you whine in his ear “own my pussy with your cum” His vision blurs as his hips stutter against yours “FUCK! I'm gonna fucking breed you baby. The whole fucking world will know who you belong to then” You connect your lips as the contents of his orgasm fill you.  

He held you in place, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. His hands guide your arms around his neck before returning to your hips. He was in deep, he knew it. Though he would NEVER let you know, he absolutely loved the way you held him as you kissed him. He hated the butterflies that filled his stomach when he’d pull away and see the reddening of your cheeks. Seeing your dance partner blatantly flirting with you all morning and you unknowingly flirting back drove him mad. His friends noticing his jealousy when they saw that guy way to close to you this morning, Hyunjin quickly became ready to risk it all the moment he saw the guy whispering something in your ear; only stopped by Jisung’s grip on his wrist holding him in place. The straw that broke the camel's back was the blush on your cheeks when he called you cute. It was bad enough for you to be partnered with the guy, but he was the only person you were allowed to look like that for. And for it to happen in front of him, he felt his blood boil and his heart clench. The possibility of you walking away from him and never looking at him like that again had his body acting before his mind could catch up to what was happening. He needed to know you still belonged to him. That the introduction of this new guy and his past mistakes wouldn’t have you looking elsewhere. He hated that he knew he didn’t deserve you, but he was selfish and couldn’t let you go. Not when this was starting to mean absolutely everything, and he would die before he lost it. “Tell me you love me” He pleads against your lips.  

“I love you” ______________________________________________________________

“Can’t I just drop the class?” Karina suggests.  

You give her a knowing look “I don’t know. Are you a dance major?” you question. She places her head in her hands “Out of anyone in the class, I get paired with the one guy I didn’t want to be paired with. Who did I piss off in my past life?” Yeji shrugs as she scrolls through her phone “I think you guys make a cute couple” you snicker at her words as you check your phone.  

‘NO NEW MESSAGES’

You sigh in disappointment as Karina picks up a piece of bread off her tray and tosses at Yeji hitting her forehead. “Not even close to funny” Karina growls. You cross your legs a slight hiss releases from your throat at the soreness between your legs. Your chin rests on your palm “Why do you act like you hate him so much?” you question “you still in love with him or something?” Karina’s eyes widen as she quickly looks around quickly “Yah! Do you wanna die?” a faux offended scoff is released from your throat as you launch yourself from your seat dashing around the table and straddling Karina’s lap. “You’d never do that baby” you state as you wrap your arms around her neck “You love me too much” you pucker your lips leaning in pretending to kiss her; her hands coming between your bodies as she groans “Stooooooppp” A pout forming on her lips. You smile at her as and pepper kisses all over her face, smacking your hand over her mouth and kissing the back of your hand. “You’re so annoying” She whines. “I’d be less annoying if you’d just accept my love” you argue.  

“Fuck” you hear from behind you “Kiss her again” Whipping your head around seeing Jisung and Changbin standing there eyes wide in amusement. Quickly shuffling off of Karina’s lap you make your way back to your seat. “Did you put a tracker on me or something?” Karina growled at the innocently deceiving boy. “Nope! Just your lucky day I guess babe” He smirks. You and Yeji share knowing glances and snicker to yourselves. “Aren't you guys one short?” Changbin asks disappointedly. “Lia had some sociology lecture or something” You reply placing your hand on his forearm as you notice his sadness. He nods dejectedly.  

You felt for Changbin, despite his two friend's actions, he was the tamest of the three. Sure, he slept around as well but he was more for friends with benefits rather than one-night stands. You had noticed his lingering stares at Lia earlier last year; yet you never once mentioned it as to not embarrass the shy boy. But Changbin knew you knew his feelings for your friend. It remained an unspoken secret between the both of you. “Aren't you guys missing someone too?” Yeji questioned as she looked at you, your eyes flashing to her in contempt. She shrugs in response. The last thing you wanted was to acknowledge Hyunjin’s absence; mainly because you felt exceptionally awkward due to his request earlier due to him leaving abruptly leaving a few minutes after but also because you were afraid of the answer. “I guess he had to.... talk about something with his dance partner. He said he’d meet us here though” Changbin states as he sits a little further down the bench from you. Your heart sinks into your stomach at his words. You hate how your heartbreaks at the slight suggestion of Hyunjin and Ye-na being alone. You wanted to trust him; he’s never actually cheated on you....as far as you knew. But how could you know anything? You rarely spent any real time with him and if you did it always turned into sex within minutes.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a warm hand resting on your shoulder. Almost jumping out of your seat, your head turns to scold the culprit. Instead, you let out an annoyed sigh groaning before you rest your head on your arms on the table at the sight of your dance partner and his annoyingly stupidly perfect smile. “Do you need something, Yongbok?” He places his leg over the bench straddling it, his gaze locked on you. “I prefer Felix” He corrects. “I prefer being left alone yet here we are” you shrug your eyes focusing on your shoes. “Anyway” He shrugs off “Kinda hard to do considering were dance partners” you shrug in response. “But after you...ehm...left. We got a project basic hip-hop, so I'll be needing your number” Your head lifts at that not expecting him to be so close, your noses brush and you pull your head back.  

“Why?” You question; your eyebrows scrunch together. “So, we can figure out a good schedule for rehersals. I hope you arent one those dancers” He states matter of factly. “One of what dancers?” you egg on. A smug smirk sits on his face “Oh, you know one of those that gives the bare minimum and relys on others to get by” you roll your eyes at his accusation, your hand quickly jostles his hair. “Yongbokie~” You coo “Just tell me you want my number” you tease. “Stop calling me that” He whines an adorable pout form on his lips. “Yongbokie~, Yongbokie~, Yongbokie~” your teasing pauses as you feel eyes on you. Looking around the table you notice Jisung and Changbin sharing worried looks; only to act obviously suspicious as they look around.  

“Im not kidding!” He groans. You ruffle his hair once more before grabbing his phone from his hand; holding the screen to his face to unlock it you text yourself from his phone. He nods slightly as he lifts himself from the seat you grabbed his sleeve pulling him back down. “Dont text me first I'd rather not deal with you anymore than I have to” He places his hand over his chest “You’re a heartbreaker, Helmet” shaking your head in response as he gets up and walks away. You feel all eyes burning holes into your face, your cheeks heat up as a confused expression grows on your face “What?” they shake their heads, Karina’s eyebrow raises as her arms cross over her chest “nothing....” you nod at her.  

“So whens the wedding?”  

______________________________________________________________

You were greatful the rest of your classes went by without a hitch. Unfortunately for you, you were alone in the rest of them. Your stomach filled with dread everytime you’d pass Hyunjin in the hall with Ye-na stuck to his side. Smiles plastered on their lips; standing way to close for comfort. As you allowed your legs to trudge the way toward your moms convience store you find your mind wandering farther than it should have. You felt stupid honestly; why did you allow your relationship to be what it was? Why had you entered it in the first place? Apart from sex, as far as you knew, you were no different from Ye-na, Minji, Yerim, Garam and all of the other girls Hyunjin decided to pass the time with. His flirty comments and lingering touches happened to all of you. You grew tired of things not being 100% clear, because despite the odd way he had acted today; you still couldn’t tell if he genuinely cared for you or if you were something to pass the time with when he was bored. You hoped he could notice you were pulling away, since typically, you’d be trying to cling yourself to Hyunjin as you walked to work. Instead, the idea of being around him made you feel exceptionally nauseous. So, you abandoned your plan to walk to work with your 3 best friends and began your journey solo.  

The day felt overwhelming in every sense of the word. You felt your throat constrict against itself as tears welled up in your eyes. Your breath shaky as a ding rings through the air. Pulling your phone out of your hoodie pocket, staring at the notification on the screen.  

You shake your head not wanting to deal with this at this very moment

Your eyebrows scrunch together as you stare at his message. You can't help but feel confused; he’s never blatantly told you he wanted to see you and honestly it makes you nervous. You decide to just ignore his messages not wanting to get even more overwhelmed by him. You sigh as you push the door open to your mother's store. “Welcome to- Oh Y/N!” your mom exclaims her eyebrows scrunched together as her eyes flash to the clock. “Early for once I see” You give her a sad smile with a soft nod of your head as you walk into the back room. Dropping your bag on the empty chair behind the desk and grabbing one of the red and blue mesh vests and cash drawer. Making your way to the register, gently placing your hand on your mother's arm. “Eomma, why are you here? Wasn’t Chanyeol supposed to open?” a scowl grows on her face at the mention of your brother's name. “Aish, that boy. He didn’t even come home last night” opening the register and taking the cash drawer out. “I had to open late because I didn’t know he didn’t come home until I came down to get some things and we were closed still” she growls as she places your cash drawer in and assigning it to you.  

“You should have called me. Or Karina. One of us would have come in you know” you scold “You know youre not supposed to manage the store alone” you look at her worriedly. “Im the mother here” she soothes you, her hand running over your hair. “Besides I’m not having you miss your classes, you can worry about my health when youre actually a doctor” You froze at her words, guilt crashing into your intestines like a tsunami. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to your mother about your choice to pursue dance like your older brother but, the last time you brought up the idea of majoring in dance she—it didn’t go well. Apparently, there are no stable jobs in dance. It's not a good career path in her eyes due to your brother's failure and subsequent alcoholism. Even so, you still majored in dance and told your mother you were pursuing medicine as she had asked. How were you eventually going to break the news to her? You werent sure but you knew this was your life and you were going to live it how you deemed fit. You do love your mother, of course you loved your mother, which is why you continuously picked up the slack for your older brother; picking up shifts if you learned she would be working alone, walking her home and staying with her until morning so she didn’t have to walk home late by herself.  

Ever since your older brother had returned from his failed endeavor to be an idol, you found yourself taking on a lot of the burdens for both of them. Your brother struggled with the fact that he could not make it as an idol as your mother's health deteriorates. You could only sit by and do your best to help them during their own struggles so much to the point they don’t notice yours. You were greatful to Karina for being the one other person to understand the massive change in your family as she had been there since long before your father died when you were 14. She had witnessed your struggle to cope with the loss of your father, then your subsequent depression pulling you out before you got too deep. You had been together through boyfriends and fights, rumors and friendships. She engrained herself in your family practically as a member in her own right. So much so, that at 16 when your mother had gotten her diagnosis of Susac’s Syndrome, she began working at the store with you. Karina was the only reason you could cope with everything. Which is why you were so greatful when your mother informed you that she had called her to work with you since your mother now will be going home instead of closing with you.  

“The truck is coming by the way” your mother informs “Make sure you guys get most of it put away please” she pleads as she walks into the back room. You roll your eyes at her quick escape.  

“Of course,”  

______________________________________________________________

“Have a nice day” you call as the stranger smiles waving on their way out. Walking to one of the coolers you grab a soda before going back behind the register, pulling your phone out you scroll through instagram. The sound of the door’s beep has you shoving your phone in your pocket. Your eyes flash to the door only to see Karina making her way over to you. A smile on her lips, your eyes look at the time. “Sure. Be all smiley and shit it's not like youre 30 minutes late or anything” you scold her as Yeji enters through the door fully engaged in a conversation with Changbin. Jisung and Hyunjin followed them shortly after. Your eyes widen as you grab Karina’s forearm pulling her infront of the storage room.  

“What the hell are they doing here?” You ask behind gritted teeth. An innocent pout sits on Karina’s face as she shrugs “They’re with Yeji” You roll your eyes at her “fucking Yeji...” you mumble. “I don’t get the problem” she states confused, grabbing a vest. “I didn’t really want to deal with all of this today...” you groan as you follow her back to the front. You notice Yeji scanning through the aisles engaged in conversation with Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin just talking in the corner eyes flashing to Yeji and Changbin every once and a while. “Did you already assign yourself a drawer?” Karina asks. You nod in response “Honestly, you don’t have to stay the full time.” You suggest as Yeji and Changbin place their items on the counter. “I only really need help putting the truck away then you should be good to leave if you want” You mention as you begin scanning the items, noticing Jisung and Hyunjin making their way over to you. “And what? Leave you to close by yourself?” Karina quips crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, youre absolutely crazy to think you should be here by yourself so late” Yeji interjects. “Why would you be closing alone anyway?” A worried look grows on her features as she reaches over the counter grasping your forearm “what happened to your mom?”  

“What do you think could have happened?”You quip. “Fucking Chanyeol...” you growl more to yourself than to anyone else. Your brother's name was all it took for Yeji’s worries to subside. You notice Changbin standing with a confused expression “Chanyeol...???” Yeji releases a sigh as you input a discount for her. “Her brother....” she answers, leaving the words to hang in the air. “Dont put that burden on me!” you groan “We just so happen to have crawled out of the same hole”  

“And grew up together, pursued the same major, lived in the same house, have the same parents. Ecetera ecetera” Karina teases. You glare at her before turning back to Yeji. “Anyway, can you just run by my mom's place and make sure shes okay. I don’t know if Chanyeol has finally come back or not, and I really don’t need her to be alone right now” You beg. She gives you a small smile in return “Of course, I havent seen mom in a while. It'd be nice to check on her, maybe your brother will be there” she winks. You and Karina gag to yourselves and shudder. “Ew” Karina groans in disgust. “We need to find you someone suitable for you cause holy crap gross its Chanyeol” Karina argues as you tell Yeji the price. Your eyes flash to the street noticing a truck driving down the alley to the store. “Can you bitch and take money please; the truck is here” you sneer. You groan before walking infront of the counter and making your way toward the storage room and heading out the back door.  

You smile at your delivery driver and cousin, Hong Jisoo, “Y/N?!” He smiles wrapping his arms around you. You let out a squeak as you’re lifted into his lean frame. “Oppa! Let me down!” you whine as you playfully shove at him. His lips upturning into a bright smile. “I havent seen you in like forever. Feels like youre avoiding me” He jokes as your feet touch the ground once more. You roll your eyes at him “Cause youre my most annoying cousin” you playfully shove him snatching the clipboard out of his hands. “Yah! I come out of my way to bring you things and this is how I get treated” He jests. “Oh, boo hoo how dare you have to do your job” you prod. “Im making an after-hours delivery, Y/N” he retorts. You scoff at his nerve “A late one at that” signing for the delivery before handing it back to him.“BUT, since you love me youre going to help me unload the truck?” You bring your hands together in a pleasing motion, your eyes big.  

“Why can't you guys do it?”  

“Karina is the only other person working”  

“Your mom still lets her work the register after what happened last time?” He questions in shock. “You can fuck all the way off, Joshua” you hear Karina snap from behind you. A smug smirk grows on your cousins' lips. “You know? I havent spent any time with my favorite cousin in a while I think I'll stick around for a bit” He suggests, his eyes falling on Karina. Her eyes narrow as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Play nice you two...” You warn giving them a threatening look before opening the door to the truck. Lifting yourself inside you grab a large crate of sodas, placing it down on the ground near the door you take a step down. Placing your hands on each side of the crate, you lift it and carry it inside only to see Yeji and the boys still standing there. “Damn, took you long enough” Yeji quips. Placing the crate infront of the freezer, you let out a whine “Joshua and Karina are going to drive me crazy” You pout. Placing your head on her shoulder “Never mind what I said stay and make sure they don’t make me commit an actual murder” you plead. She shakes her head at you.  

“Would it be wrong for me to leave them alone?” You question.  

“Yes.”  

“But Karina—would burn down the store if she was left with Joshua” she cut you off. You roll your eyes in response. You nod in agreement. “Sorry hun, I can run to your moms and stuff, but I have to meet with Wooyoung at the studio at 5.” She apologizes petting your hair softly. A pout forms on your lips as you turn at the boys pleadingly, bringing your hands together “you guys wanna become my favorite people in the entire world” Changbin looks away from you at your request scratching his neck before pretending to look at a newspaper. Jisung sits with his hands in his pockets looking at the ceiling rocking back and forth on his heels. Your eyes finally turn to your boyfriend. A look of shock fills his expression “I should already be one of your favorite people!” he exclaims in disbelief. “You’re slowly losing that title....” you grumble as you walk back toward the crate you had put down. You feel a hand wrap around your waist pulling you back into Hyunjin’s frame. “What was that? I don’t think I heard you, babe” He whispers in your ear, his voice borderline seductive.  

“Go be gross somewhere else!” Karina exclaims, as she comes into the store a large box in her hands. You roll your eyes at her as you go to pull yourself from Hyunjin’s arms only to have his arms tighten around your waist. “Hyun...” you trail, his lips cutting your words off as he connects them with yours. Your eyes widen at his sudden PDA, you couldn’t help but melt into him as his tongue runs over your bottom lip. Your cheeks heat up as he pulls away, before releasing his hold on you and turning to Karina “Gross enough for you? I can make it worse if youd like” he states with a wink before turning back toward you, his hand caresses your cheek before brushing a stray hair out of your face. “I have practice as well tonight babe......” he states apologetically. You nod in response “It's fine” You smile at his use of the pet name, He gives you a worried look “Honestly I usually do it by myself, I have Karina and—OW!!” Your words are cut off by a loud bang and a scream from Joshua in the back. You and Karina dash out the door toward the backroom, a trail of footsteps follow behind you. Karina reaching outside first you notice her immediately almost fall in a fit of laughter. “Whats goin—oh crap what the hell happened?!” you bellow.  

Youre greeted with Joshua sat on the ground, a milk crate all over the backroom and himself. Gallons of milk litered the ground, milk all over the ground, boxes and Joshua. “i may have made a little bit of a mess” Joshua states guiltily. “This is unreal!” Jisung laughed hysterically. Your fingers sat on the bridge of your nose. “So, I don’t have Joshua, Jisung I will literally pay you” you beg, you see him placing his chin between his finger and his thumb, thinking “How do you know I don’t have rehersal?” You stare daggers at him “Because your partner will be here dumbass! putting this truck away......forget it” You roll your eyes, turning back to Joshua “Get up, clean this, and just....” you clench your fists “put milk on a delivery for tomorrow.” You feel large hands on your shoulders, Hyunjin’s colonge fills your nostrils. His hands run down your arms, “Come here” he gestures to the front. You take a deep breath as you follow him through the door and outside. “I'll come back” he states, your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. You shake your head at his offer “It's fine, you really don’t have to I’ll be fine as long as Joshua just stays behind the register.” His eyebrows scrunch together “He’s staying?” you nod casually “Yeah, he’s helping me put the truck away I havent seen him in a while”  

“I-I can cancel” Hyunjin blurts, you shake your head in response. “Hyun, it’s fine I literally can just put the truck away with Karina and make Joshua work the register I should have known better than to have his scrawny ass help me unload it” His hands wrap around your arms as he locks eyes with yours “I want to help babe I can cancel” his voice is soft. “Dont. Hyunnie its fine really you don’t have to.” You brush your hair out of your face. “I usually do it alone anyway im just never here to unload it my brother usually does it” The sound of Hyunjin’s ringtone sounds through the air, he pulls it out of his pocket. Your heartbreaks at the contact's name, Ye-na's name sat with the red faced emoji. He quickly locks the screen, shoving his phone back in his pocket. You stare at the ground “I should get back” you state hastily pulling yourself away from him opening the door. You feel a hand around your wrist

“Babe--Have a good practice” you cut him off forcing your wrist from your hand and make your way back inside.

______________________________________________________________

You were greatful for Karina, even though you now owed Jisung $100, you had finally finished getting the truck put away. Jisung having left as soon as it was unloaded as per his agreement with Karina. Your mother had sent you a text about Yeji visiting her, which you had appreciated tremendously. You had sent Karina and Joshua home at close, which was over an hour ago. Opting to do the closing procedures and cleaning projects. Purposely ignoring your phone for the majority of your shift, not wanting to confront what you had seen on Hyunjin’s phone. You knew you had a plethora of unread messages; you didn’t understand where his now oddly attentive behavior came from and as much as you enjoyed it; you didn’t understand why now? Why when you’ve finally begun to open your eyes to how messed up your relationship did, he want to put effort? You didn’t know. You’ve finally opened your eyes to everything and youre not sure where you stand at this point. Why was her contact saved like that in his phone? Well, you know why it was saved like that, but has he used it?  

You groan to yourself as you struggle to empty the mop bucket, the water splashin all over your pants as you dump it down the floor drain. “Fucking great” You grumble to yourself. Your foot slides slightly as you make your way out of the back room with a sigh. Giving the store one more passover before grabbing your things and making your way out the front door. The soft wisps of wind kiss your cheeks as you lock the door behind you. You jump as two hands circle around your waist a squeak makes its way out of your throat. Quickly whipping yourself around and pulling yourself from the person's arms. Your nervousness calms as you see Hyunjin standing there a confused expression grows on your face.  

“W-what are you doing here?”

“Is your phone not working?” He questioned. A dejected look plastered on his features; his eyebrows scrunched together as his plush lips drew into a pout. Hyunjin felt confused, why hadnt you answered his messages? You always answer him; you’ve never gone longer than 30 minutes without responding. were you actually mad about Ye-na calling him? Did that Joshua guy keep you occupied to the point you forgot about him? Who was that Joshua guy? Hyunjin couldn’t help the tightness in his chest, he had to explain he couldn’t just let things linger he knew that. He tried to explain that he just forgot he had her number let alone had her saved like THAT. But you had left so quickly, as you pulled away from him Hyunjin felt like his heart was going with you. He needed you to know there was nothing with Ye-na. It’s the whole reason he came here, but as he stared at you his mind was drawing a blank. He didn’t know how to approach the topic, let alone how to explain but he knew he needed to. He’s hoping you’ll just forget about it. He’s hoping him showing up and trying to fix this fucking mess that hes turned your relationship into would fix this.  

He’s worried you're going to wake up one day and realize you didn’t deserve this. That you were so much better than to deal with his bullshit and leave him. His heart clenched at the thought, he couldn’t let that happen. Fuck he wouldn’t be able to handle that, he loves you. He only began considering the notion recently but today reinforced the insecurities Jisung had drunkenly planted in his head a couple weeks ago at some party. He had been talking to some music production major who he hadnt bothered to learn the name of before Jisung drunkenly stumbled against his shoulder casually whispering Karina and Yeji were also in attendance and had seen him. It was the first time since you guys had gotten together that he felt an overwhelming sense of panic. He had only been in a conversation, honestly pretty casual but the girl was making her interest pretty known and had been a little closer to Hyunjin than he would have liked but he was used to those types of things. Ever since he had hit puberty women had flocked to him and made suggestive gestures. He enjoyed the attention and the lack of effort it took to get them into bed without having to commit to something, it felt amazing. He was happy with casual sex with no feelings on his part. Of course, there were the select few that wanted more than he wanted to give them, and he’d successfully curb the whole drama aspect before it started.  

Being with you was different, for some reason you were the only girl that didn’t get her hopes up the first time. You had avoided him, ignored his flirty remarks, and never gave him the time of day for a while afterward. Hyunjin had to convince Jisung and Changbin to ‘casually’ stumble upon your group of friends at break so he could see you. Only completely lucking out when Jisung had taken an interest in your best friend Karina and he could use Jisungs interest as a way to see you, but after the first couple of times you had disappeared, and he had to start all over again in his pursuit to get close to you. He’d never wanted someones attention so bad, sure he had still flirted here or there but after being with you he wanted to only be with you time and time again. So, when he had found his opportunity to get you alone, he immediately took it. He needed to be with you in some way, he couldn’t get over how perfectly your body had fit into his, how your nonchalant attitude about everything and your acting like it never even happened only made him want to scream in the middle of the quad that it did. That you had given yourself to him and in turn took a part of him with you. That you were different, and he wanted no one but you so why werent you giving him the time of day? Why didn’t you want him? Everyone wanted him, why not you? Why not the one person he wants?  So, when you finally had given in to his advances, he knew he had to do whatever he could to keep you around. It started off (in his mind) as casual sex to him, a quick way to get off and have a good time but then almost immediately after he found himself getting annoyed with both Jisung’s and your former dance partner, Lee Minho’s, flirty comments to you. He quickly realized for the first time he wanted more. He was over the moon when you agreed to be his girlfriend, but for some reason he found himself keeping things at a distance. Like if held on too tight things would break, he didn’t realize he hadnt held on tight enough until that night at the party.  When, Jisung started slurring about how your friends were definitely going to tell you that theyd seen him with some girl and that him and her looked like they’d probably hook up tonight; Jisung practically cheered that Hyunjin would probably be single again and they could have all the fun they wanted. Hyunjin felt bile rise to his throat as tears burned his eyes at the idea. You wouldn’t leave him.............right? Jisung looked worriedly at him, “Wait, are you okay?” Hyunjin took a harsh gulp of his drink his eyes drifting back to the cup. “She-she wouldn’t break up with me...” he mumbles sadly. Hyunjin had ended the night on Jisungs couch with tears streaming down his face at the idea of you leaving him and he couldn’t understand why.

He couldn’t understand the tightness in his chest and the need to call and beg you not to break up with him. He’s never felt the need to explain himself to anyone but for some reason he can't help but feel like he had to this time. He needed you to know nothing happened that your friends misunderstood. That you were the only person he cared about that he loved you. He wanted to tell you so badly that he realized it that night, deciding only to say it if you were to mention the party but you didn’t. You never broke up with him and he never had to reveal himself to you like that.  

Having Ye-na call him and to have you pull away like you did, brought him back to that night. He didn’t even want to leave when you had gone inside, he wanted to call Ye-na and cancel. You needed his help and he wanted to help you so why werent you taking it? Why did he never even know about this place? He’d walk past it so often with Jisung and Changbin on his way to and from his dorm. How had he not known that not only do you work here but it's your mother's store? Of course, he knew little tidbits about your mother's condition and your brother's situation. But why did he not know about this? He didn’t even know you had a job, honestly, he’d never even thought about it in the grand scheme of things. How long has your mother had this store? Had you always worked after you left him when you guys walked together? Did you always close this late and have to walk by yourself? The idea made anxiety raise in his chest. You wouldn’t have walked alone......right? Youd have at least called him, he tells himself. “Were you going to walk home by yourself?” he questioned worriedly. You nod a confused look grows on your features “why wouldn’t I?”  

“it's late, you could get hurt what do you mean why wouldn’t you?” His voice is full of worry. “Hyun, I do it all the time nothings ever happened im literally 10 minutes from my dorm” You state matter of factly, starting your journey home. “Why wouldn’t you call me? Why would you think it's okay for you to do something so dangerous?” He found himself growing more and more angry as the words came out. “Would you have even answered? It's not like you have before” you scoff as you begin speed walking as you roll your eyes at him. He has some fucking nerve.... you think to yourself. Hyunjin stood frozen in place at your words. A conflicted expression sitting on his face as his heart clenched. He didn’t realize how tired you actually were, not until now at least. Had you called him to walk you home before? Had he not been there for you when you needed him? “Babe....” he called dejectedly, noticing your retreating figure. “Wait! Talk to me” he exclaimed as he rushed to catch up with you. His hand encasing your wrist turning you to look at him. “Im sorry I didn’t mean---I don’t want----fuck im sorry okay” he apologized behind teary eyes and a shaky breath. “I-I—please just call me next time okay” you look at him worriedly, your heart broke at the sight. “Hyun are you okay?” your hand grasps his bicep. Your eyebrows scrunch together.  

Fuck......he was in way deeper than he thought.

______________________________________________________________

Lee Felix is the absolute worst.  

You completely regret agreeing to let him make the rehearsal schedule. He was an annoying thorn in your side everywhere else, but a complete drill sergeant in the studio. Early morning rehearsals, during break, after classes before you go to work, after work. The days you don’t even have classes you have rehearsals, due to the overly nitpicky boy. You thought you were over-prepared, until you met Felix. You did appreciate the fact you both would not be happy until the whole dance was perfect in both of your eyes. BUT the guy seemed to forget you had a social life and other priorities even though he himself has now not had a choice and worked a shift at your mothers' store with you. You hated that the longer you guys continued your crazy rehearsal schedule the less and less time you had to see Hyunjin and your friends. You had finally convinced Felix to allow at least Karina and Jisung to watch the rehearsals and give critques. He was oddly warmly welcoming to the two, yet only asked for Karina’s opinion on the dance.  

“Honestly, when it gets to the bridge Felix I can see you a little off with the timing can I see you run it again like just you this time?” She states professionally completely emerged in her dancer mindset. You gave a sigh of relief before laying completely on the ground, chest heaving as you reveled in the break you had finally gotten. You noticed Jisungs eyes on you “can I help you with something, Hanji?” he sat quietly his arms crossed over his chest “Do you like this guy or something?” He asks accusingly. You sit yourself up rapidly “What the hell did you just say to me Han Jisung?” your tone is no longer friendly. A scowl sitting on your face. His expression follows yours “Do you. Like. This. Guy. Or. Something?” He repeats behind gritted teeth “Did you forget I have a boyfriend?” You growl your arms crossing over your chest.  

“No. It sure seems like you did though”  

“You’re fucking joking, right?!”  

“So why isnt Hyunjin allowed to be here? Why is it only you two all day every day? Are you cheating on Hyunjin?” He snaps before standing up and clenches his fists. Your resolve breaks at his questions, you jump to your feet your hand quickly connecting with his cheek “ASK, FELIX! IVE BEEN ASKING FOR THE PAST TWO WEEKS FOR HYUNJIN AND ALL OF YOU TO FUCKING BE HERE! AND IM NOT YOU OR HYUNJIN OR CHANGBIN THAT CAN JUST FUCK RANDOM PEOPLE AND BE OKAY WITH IT! AND YOU WANT TO SIT HERE AND DEFEND YOUR FRIEND THAT DOESNT EVEN GIVE A SINGLE FUCK ABOUT ME ENOUGH TO LITERALLY DO ANYTHING BUT FUCK ME AND LEAVE! GET OUT JISUNG! NOW!” Karina and Felix step inbetween you and the boy, Karina’s arms wrapping around your waist holding you in place so you couldn’t get another hit on Jisung. “YOU OBVIOUSLY DONT KNOW YOUR FRIEND WELL ENOUGH JISUNG! IF HE HAD A PROBLEM THEN WHY IS HE FUCKING YE-NA?! WHY ISNT HE THE ONE HERE SAYING ANYTHING? BECAUSE HE AND YOU DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT MY RELATIONSHIP! FELIX KNOWS ABOUT HYUNJIN! HE KNOWS I WANTED MY BOYFRIEND HERE AND TO BE WITH ME FOR MONTHS! HYUNJIN IS THE REASON WHY HYUNJIN ISNT HERE CAUSE EVEN IF I ASKED HIM TO COME, HE WOULD HAVE SAID NO LIKE HE ALWAYS FUCKING HAS! SO WHY BOTHER ASKING ANYMORE?! YOURE LOOKING FOR A REASON FOR HYUNJIN TO BE SINGLE! YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU GOT IT! YOU AND YOUR FRIEND CAN LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE” you growl ripping yourself from Karina’s arms grabbing your bag and storm out the dance studio.  

You notice Hyunjin and Ye-na, in conversation as they casually walk in the direction you came. Hyunjin’s eyes meet yours, a concerned look growing on his face. As you got closer to the pair, he extended his arm to try to stop you “Baby you okay whats wron--” his words are cut off by you quickly shoving his hands away and continuing on your path facing him. “Ask your best friend. And just leave me alone” you scoff as you turn away from him. “Wait, what?” he called after you “BABE!” you kept walking, ignoring his calls. Shoving your way out of the Dance building, you keep your legs moving, your eyes plastered to the ground as you walk toward the exit.  

“Helmet!” You hear call from behind you, you shake your head and keep going. “Y/N! Come on you know I don’t run that fast” Felix whines. You halt your movements, tears welling in your eyes as Felix encases you in his arms. “I’m sorry......” you cry into his shirt. His hand pets your hair “what happened? Me and Karina are so confused” you shake your head not wanting to get into it “It’s nothing” He scoffs in amusement “Nothing. If it was nothing, then why did you hit Jisung like that? And why did Hyunjin come into the studio absolutely fuming and lose his shit on Jisung? what happened?” You took a deep breath, taking a seat on the stone wall behind you, before explaining the parts you understood. Why Hyunjin went into the studio and yelled at Jisung wasn’t your business nor did you have a real explanation for it. But you were greatful for Felix, though your friendship began as more of a rivalry thing you both had learned to appreciate the others insights and each other as a dancer. And after you had finally returned his helmet (after 4 days of him asking about it) you began to notice how nice and funny he actually was. You now found the nickname Helmet almost tolerable and gotten to know him over the past month. “well, Jisung is pretty rude to think you were my type, Helmet” Felix jokes nudging your shoe with his, You playfully smack his arm “Youre an ass.....but I just got so pissed because like Jisung KNOWS everything about my feelings for Hyunjin And for him to act like he has a right to ask me questions like that—tch.” you explain “and with YOU?!” you fake a gag before guilt sets in “but I didn’t have to hit him”  

“You acted in the moment, and you’ll apologize later” He smiled “Can we go back and run through it one more time though? Karina telling me I was off is really getting to me?” He begs

______________________________________________________________

You felt absolutely drained. One more run through turned into 2 more hours of rehearsals. Your body ached as you wiped the sweat from your brow. “One more time," he said. I'll be on beat if we do it one more time” you sneer toward Felix, who stood in the center of the room hands on his knees as he gasped for air. “Shut. Up.” He groans between breaths. “yeah, sure Lix you think you got it cause im not sure if I'll be able to do another run through” you groan “At least im not doing no damn flips that’s for sure” you state hands on your hips. He shakes his head as he makes his way over to his bag grabbing his water bottle out. You finally checked your phone, only to see a flurry of messages from Karina and Hyunjin. Sighing to yourself you click on Hyunjin’s notifications.

Opting to ignore Hyunjin’s messages, you decide to see why Karina had blown up your phone.

You roll your eyes at her last question, of course that’s what she’d be worried about.  

You respond before putting your phone back into your bag and saying your goodbyes to Felix. You were happy your dorm was a short 15-minute walk from the campus, spending majority of the day in the studio was not ideal. You couldn’t wait to take a shower and lay in bed forgetting about this whole day. You had no clue why Jisung had acted the way he did, but you still felt terrible about hitting him. You werent sure as to why he immediately assumed you were intimately involved with Felix, while he was an attractive guy, he 100% was not your type and you were definitely not his.  

You felt utterly stupid, for even begging for him to even be accepted by Felix in the dance studio, you can see why Felix was so reluctant he wasn’t a dance major, so he’d focus on things that werent important. You had argued that he’d probably sit quietly on his phone, you wished you would have just accepted Felix’s offer to let Hyunjin sit in, due to his also being another top dancer in our class. You were so tired of thinking about it and just opted to not let anyone but Karina into the studio from now on.  You were happy that the walk went by in no time, but you were halted as you saw Hyunjin sitting on the ground next to your door. His eyebrows scrunched together eyes not leaving his phone. You sigh as you slowly make your way over, Hyunjin noticing you as you stand in front of your door unlocking it. “So what? youre not talking to me anymore or something?” He scoffs, you can hear hurt in his voice. “I don’t have time to deal with this right now Hyunjin” you stoicly explain. Hyunjin couldn’t help the crack in heart at the use of his name. What did he do? Why were you treating him like this? Jisung couldn’t say much behind his panicked stammering so Hyunjin couldn’t understand what happened.  All he could get was Jisung was sorry, and you wanted nothing to do with him anymore.  When Hyunjin heard that he couldn’t hold himself back quickly grabbing a hold of Jisungs collar, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!” He had lost himself; he knows that, but you had never not talked to him. You’ve never pushed him away let alone told him to leave you alone. He didn’t know what happened with Jisung and You, but he knew he needed to figure out why his whole relationship had gotten put on the line.  

“Just tell me what happened!” he begs his hand grasps your arm, his free hand caressing your cheek “Babe, talk to me” you feel tears well in your eyes. Hyunjin’s arms encased around your figure his hand caressing the back of your head as you struggled to hold back tears. “Can I bring you inside?” He asks softly, you nod against him tightening your grip on his waist. He let out a sigh of relief, he stood there for a moment enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. You fit so perfectly in his arms, just knowing youre accepting him again has his heart racing so wildly he knows you can hear it. And for once he doesn’t care. He just wants you to talk to him again, look at him so brightly like you always did. Just the simple act of you using his full name made him almost burst into tears. He didn’t know why you were angry with him, but he knew he wouldn’t let it last long if that was the result. Hyunjin never wanted to feel that sense of panic again. He reluctantly let you go as he entered the code to your door. You slowly trudge your way in until you finally enter your room, dropping your bag, you lay yourself down on your bed. Hyunjin slowly follows behind you before placing himself over you. His hand strokes your hair “Whats going on baby?” his voice was soft as your eyes connected. You noticed the concern sitting deep within them. You shake your head “Nothing its nothing” you sigh. He gives you a frustrated pout “Babe. It's not nothing” he eggs on “Please tell me what happened please” your arms wrap around his neck as you press your lips against his pulling him closer to you.

He responds quickly taking control pressing you deeper against the bed, you moan against his lips as his hand runs up your side. Your tongue traces over his bottom lip, he allows you entry.  Your tongues battle before he gains dominance. Your fingers playing with his hair, pulling yourself closer so he can have more access to your mouth. He moans at your taste, “Fuck baby we need to stop” he pulls away slightly placing his forehead against yours. Both of your breaths are heavy “why?” you whine before placing soft kisses against his throat. “Because I need to—fuck—know what happened” he stated behind gritted teeth. You knew his resolve was breaking, you just needed a little push. With faux disappointment you sigh “Fine” before signalling for him to let you up. You stand outside the door to your private shower pulling your shirt off. “What are you doing?” He asks behind a suspicious glint in his eye as he lays himself on your bed, his hand behind his head as he kept his eyes on you. You shrug as you pull your leggings off “Felix made me spend literally all day in the studio I need to shower youre more than welcome to my bed apparently” you state sarcastically a sly smirk on your face as you enter the bathroom leaving the door cracked slightly.  

Hyunjin could hear the shower running, his eyes stayed stuck to the door. He knew what you were doing, he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself. How could he when you were literally offering yourself up on a silver platter? He already had to force himself to stop when you kissed him, he took a moment to revel in your taste. Fuck, he was addicted to your lips. His cock twitched at the sight of you stripping for your shower. His hands were shaking as he continued to stare at the partially open door. He could just come in at any time if he wanted, yet he couldn’t tell if it was intentional. You’ve never been a tease, not with him at least. You always gave into him and his advances, but you’ve also never left the bathroom door open if you were showering. He wanted to come in so bad and feel your naked body shiver under his touch. He could feel his determination growing thinner and thinner the longer he imagined your petite figure, completely naked and from how badly you made it seem like you wanted him he knows more than just your body is wet. He knows he has to maintain his composure so he can get real answers from you, so you know this wasn’t just sex to him. That you could tell him what happened and he’ll do whatever he could in his power to fix it; but the more he thought about it, you seemed to not even care about your words to Jisung and allowed Hyunjin inside, you held onto him with tears in your eyes in the hallway, you had kissed him and not the other way around. Maybe you didn’t want to talk about what happened with Jisung, and if it doesn’t seem to be ruining your relationship anymore, maybe he shouldn’t bring it up again.  

His resolve absolutely crumbles like the lost city of Troy, you exit the bathroom drying your hair, towel in your hands and not wrapped around your body. Hyunjin could no longer control the need to be inside you, to feel you submit to him and let him give you immense pleasure. He rapidly jumped from your bed and behind your naked figure. His hand immediately ripped the towel from your hands and tossed it across the room, taking the opportunity to grip your hair forcing your head back almost sitting on his shoulder. “What are you doing?” he growls behind hooded eyes. You look up at him innocently, “nothing daddy” you state sweetly, his hand smacks down harshly on your ass causing you to squeak and jump at his action.  

“Dont lie to me, baby” He warns in your ear. You can feel yourself practically dripping in excitement, you had to contain your smile as Hyunjin fell perfectly in your trap. You knew you’d at least be able to do some form of seduction at some point in the time he chose to be here, you just didn’t know it would just ta cke a simple shower with the door open to completely break him. You figured you were going to have to do more, but you were happy you didn’t have to work so hard for it. “I-I’m not I just took a shower daddy” you reaffirm. “It seems like you just want to be punished, I know what you’re doing” He loosens his hold on you “On the bed. All fours. Now" he demands as he forces his shirt over his head, and you quickly rush over to the bed and position yourself. You feel his hand caressing your ass before sliding down toward your entrance.  

You feel his fingertips on your core, your legs shake in anticipation. “You’re fucking soaked but you weren’t doing anything?” He quips “Acting like a bitch in heat is nothing?” You stay silent, whimpering as he growls at you. You can feel his fingers teasing your slit, you push yourself back against his hand to add some pressure to your bud. “Fuck---you want daddy to fuck you huh?” He groans as he feels your juices all over his fingers. You nod excitedly, only to be met with another harsh smack of your ass. His hands grip your hair forcing your head back “Use your words babygirl” Your eyes burn with tears “D-daddy f-fuck me please” you beg.  

“I'll be so good for you I promise, I need you inside me please daddy” He could feel his pants growing exceptionally tight, quickly forcing them down.  “I would prep you baby but fuck it's been way too long since ive fucked you” Rubbing his tip against your slit, before gliding himself inside of you. Your head is thrown back, your mouth hangs open; a loud gasp is released from your throat. Hyunjin’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling, fuck he didn’t realize how long it had been until he was finally back inside you.  

“S-so fucking tight baby” He groans as he gently glides himself out before thrusting harshly back inside you immediately hitting your sweet spot. “Fuck daddy” you moan “It's so big, feel so—ngh—feel so full” your need to adjust to his size completely gone from his mind at your words as he begins rapidly attacking your core; his hand with a death grip on your hair as he forces you back on his cock. His free hand taking a hold of your waist to keep you right where he wanted you.  His eyes traveling to where your bodies are connected, He throws his head back as his mouth hangs open. He almost, heavy on almost, grabbed his phone and had this moment saved in a hidden folder he kept of similar images and videos you had sent him. His pace is unrelenting as he revels in the practically pornographic noises coming from your throat. “Fuck youre doing so good baby come here” he moans as he pulls himself out of you and lays on your bed. “Come ride me baby” He looks at you, a pleading look on his face as he stroked himself.  

You quickly straddled his lap; he presses his lips against yours as you ease yourself onto his length. His arms immediately wrapping themselves around your waist pressing your chest against his. He whines against your lips at the snail pace you’ve chosen to go. His eyes watering with tears at the need to fuck you into oblivion. Your moans and taste only doing more to drive him deeper into insanity. He was so fucking happy you didn’t even think about a condom, the warm velvety feeling of your walls on his bare cock being the only thing he could focus on. His mouth follows after yours as you sit yourself up on his chest, your hands placing themselves on his pecks before speeding up your movements. Hyunjin could tell by how tight your pussy had gotten around him, the way your eyes rolled, and your head hung back that you were close. His hands place themselves under your thighs lifting you slightly as he pounded rapidly into your core. “FUCK--its—it's too much. D-daddy im gon-gonna---Cum for me baby. Fuck please cum around my cock baby.” His voice strained. His vision blurred as you came undone around him.  

Quickly, flipping you both over; pressing you against your bed legs wrapped firmly around his waist as he chased his high “Fuck!” he exclaims “Who owns this tight little pussy?” he groans against you. “Y-you do daddy” you moan weakly. He can see you struggling to keep your eyes open at the harshness of his attack on your core. His hand wrapping around your throat “Fuck can—can I cum inside you baby?” He bites his lip, his tone is soft almost inaudible, yet you still heard him and eagerly nodded and begged for him to finish inside you. He buried his face in your neck leaving wet hungry kisses against it as he felt the familiar tightness in his stomach.  

“Fuck baby im gonna fucking breed you so well” He groans against your throat. “You want that, babygirl? You want daddy to fuck a baby into you?” he can feel you tighten around him at his words. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach, your arms wrapped around his neck as he pressed your bodies closer together. You felt his fingers on your clit bringing you closer over the edge.  “You take daddy’s cock so well—nghhh—fuck I-I--” His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he climaxes deep inside you. Reattaching his lips to yours his hand caressing your face as he pulled himself out of you. Your legs were shaky as you stared at his figure disappearing in the bathroom only to return with a washcloth.  

Hyunjin’s mind was all over as he helped clean you up. He almost told you he loved you, he mentally face palmed. That was the last way he wanted to tell you how he felt. His worries quickly fading as he sees your fucked out form, struggling to stay awake as he cleaned you both off. He watched you turn to your side back to him before laying himself back into your bed for the first time since you two had gotten together. His heartbreaks at the confused look you give him as he wraps his arms around you. You open your mouth to say something as he quickly cuts you off before you can say anything “Im staying” he states softly kissing the back of your head  

“Get some sleep baby”  

______________________________________________________________

To say you were anxious would be an understatement.  

When you had received the email from your professor after you and Felix were able to present your routine stating you and Felix would also be in the schools showcase and representing the dance program with your outstanding choreography, you had completely rejected the idea. Not only would that put a hindrance on your mothers not knowing about you majoring in dance, but you would have to dance kinda of sexy with Felix, infront of the whole University and whoever else decided to come to the well-known showcase. BUT Felix seemed really excited about the whole thing and was happy to have been the chosen pair over Hyunjin and Ye-na. Who were also contenders for the top pair in your program, it had been months ago but apparently your first effort as partners really impressed the instructor and she had informed a friend of hers at JYPE who will now be watching the showcase.

Your heart sunk into your ass as you stared out the curtain at the large crowd. You noticed the smiles on the crowds' face as Jisung, Changbin, and surprisingly Bang Chan (who apparently is also a music production major) finish up their set. Your eyes scan the crowd, you notice Yeji, Karina, and Lia all placed in the front row eyes wide with pride and excitement. Your hands are shaky as you nip at your bottom lip, a habit only done in your nervousness, you rub your palms against your dress. You can feel Felix’s eyes on you “Do I look as nervous I feel?” You question looking at him pleadingly. He scratches the back of his neck as he looks everywhere but you. “Yongbokie~” you whine extending the pronunciation of his name with a stomp of your foot. He places his hands on your arms looking directly into your eyes “Dont worry remember im right there and weve done this so often you can do it in your sleep”  

“PLEASE HELP US WELCOME LEE YONGBOK AND PARK Y/N FROM OUR DANCE PROGRAM” Your eyes widen at the introduction. “Showtime” Felix’s sings as he walks toward the other end of the stage as the music begins. You stand frozen taking deep breaths as you and Felix stare at each other from across the stage, he gives you a reassuring smile and thumbs up as you both make your way out into the public eye.  

(Song- Breathless- Luke James and Jude Demorset)

Yeah Oh yeah Oh, honey Why you looking like that

Didn't I tell you I'd have you hooked By the morning you'll be coming back, oh

You both take slow fluid steps as you walk toward each other, eyes on the other until you reach him, you make a flirty smile as you place your hand across his chest on his shoulder his hand around your waist as you circle each other eyes locked.   Oh, baby Why you making that face Like you didn't accept that my body would have you so out of place Oh, baby

You remove your arm from him, turning your head away as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind. As you step toward the front of the stage, with a soft lift of your leg behind you between Felix’s legs as his hands grab yours while you dip and sensually lift yourself.   Honey, don't worry You are on your way to heaven Just relax (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

You both pull away and begin making your way to opposite sides of the stage as the music comes to its climax. Your heart no longer shaking, as confidence fills you. Before launching yourself across the stage, toward Felix’s waiting figure. You aerial once you were near him landing perfectly infront of him, your dress flowing beautifully with the choreography.

I don't wanna hurt you I just wanna blow your mind Tonight Imma leave you breathless Breathless (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Felix’s arms wrap around you as you gracefully turn in his arms, your head bent back whilst your arms are in 5th position. You backbend landing into a split.  

Girl I know I'm a rebel Really hope that you don't mind I just wanna leave you breathless Breathless (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Felix’s hands help guiding you up as he guides you back up to your feet over your head turning you both around slowly as you extend your arms a smile plastered on your face as you flip yourself over his head and back onto your feet

Baby, I don't bite

Felix’s steps are smooth and fluid as he steps toward the front of the stage his hand coming up to cover his chin and mouth as he faced you his other arm wrapping around his torso

Maybe I'm lying But I promise I'm gonna do it right, oh

on beat his head goes faces each side his arms moving gracefully as he extends his arm to the crowd before spinning and giving the audience a flirty smile and wink as he extends his hand toward you.  

Honey, don't worry You are on your way to heaven Just relax (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

You point your toe as you walk toward him, your arms moving with the beat before Felix grasps your hand and lifts you over his head. Slowly turning you around as your dress adds another beautiful element to the choreography. You smile at each other at the use of the dirty dancing lift. You both struggle not to laugh as he guides you back down. I don't wanna hurt you I just wanna blow your mind Tonight Imma leave you breathless Breathless (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh) Baby I know I'm a rebel Really hope that you don't mind I just wanna leave you breathless Breathless (Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

You spin your arms guiding your spin before you jete. Standing on one foot as you lift your leg behind you extending your arm up into an Arabesque. You drop to one knee both of your arms crossing into an X over your chest as you tuck your head. You bring your head up elegantly, as your arms extend over your head and back flip into a standing position your arms straight up. You turn into Felix’s arms, his hand wrapping itself around your waist as you place your hand on his chest, your faces inches from each other as the song comes to a close.

Your chest is heaving as you hear the roar of applause from behind you, turning to the crowd you take a hold of Felix’s hand taking a bow before pulling him off stage. A large smile playing on your lips, Felix is giddy as you guys made it off stage. You wrap your arms around his neck “That was fucking awesome!” you declare as Felix laughs in disbelief. You smack his arm as you pull away “How were you so calm? you werent nervous at all?” You question, he scoffs at your words “I WAS TERRIFIED! Theres a scout from JYP out there I was fucking terrified, you couldn’t tell?” he exclaims. Your eyes widen in disbelief “NO! FELIX!” He shrugs as he lifts his hand to point behind you. You turn your head in the direction he was pointing in only to see Karina, Yeji, Lia and your mother and brother running up to you. Your heart sinks at the sight of your mother, you look at the ground in embarrassment. Karina is the first to reach you wrapping her arms around your neck “You were fucking amazing! Is this why Felix is such a dick about people coming to your practices” She exclaims giving a small playful glare to Felix. He rolls his eyes at her words “What the hell are you talking about I’ve invited you” he argues as she removes herself from you. “Guys---” your words are cut off by Yeji and Lia wrapping themselves around you.  

“You did so good!” they exclaimed; you laugh at their insync jinx. Your eyes drift to your mother and brother standing behind them, wide proud smiles on their faces. You pull yourself away from the two. Trudging your way over to them, you look at the ground. You feel your brothers' arms wrap around you, “I-I’ve never seen you dance before” his voice is filled with tears you notice the lack of liquor smell on him, only a strong colonge. You feel tears welling in your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You can hear the heartbreak in your mother's voice. “Eomma!” you cried as you wrap your arms around her “I'm sorry...I wanted to tell you! I did but you were so disappointed at the idea I didn’t want to hurt you” you cried. She shook her head as she wrapped her arms around you “you could never disappoint me, I'm sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t tell me" She wiped your tears “You’re an amazing dancer, you remind me of your father”

“Hi Im Felix” Felix exclaims excitedly extending his hand toward your brother a large bright smile on his face.

______________________________________________________________

You were greatful for the showers in the female dressing room.  

After your overwhelmingly emotional moment with your family, you quickly rushed into the dressing room, undressing and quickly making your way into the warm water waiting for you. You can hear the dressing room open, the murmur of voices making their way into the vanity room. Choosing to enjoy your shower you grab your shampoo and lather it onto your hair. You hear a crash from the strangers in the next room.  

“Ye-na what is going on?!” her friend exclaimed as you heard more crashes from the room. You hear a pause before you hear the familiar screech of Ye-na's voice “I just don’t get Hyunjin, I thought we were like going somewhere but apparently not” she snapped. Your ears perk up at the sound of your boyfriends name. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “what do you mean?” her friend inquires. “I mean he had no problem sleeping with me at the party the night before we started classes and now all of a sudden I don’t fucking exist!!” your heart breaks at her words. He slept with her.....tears well up in your eyes. He slept with her the same night he slept with you. You scoff in disbelief.  

“Wait doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” her friend questions. You press yourself against the shower wall, waiting in anticipation. Your heart pounded against your chest, your hands shaky. Your shower long over but you were frozen in place under the rapid cascade of the water.  “He said they werent anything serious” You could hear the smirk on her lips. Nothing serious? You heard the door close. Turning the water off, you slowly make your way out of the shower. Grabbing onto the towel you allow the tears to fall. You feel your body trembling as you hold the towel against your chest, leaning against the doorframe. Nothing serious..... that’s what you were to Hyunjin. Nothing serious. Pulling your phone out you see new messages from Felix, your tears cascading down your face. Quickly responding to him you pull your long sleeve skin tight shirt and black sweats on.  

You hear a soft knock on the door. Wiping your cheeks you crack the door slightly, only to be met with a set of soft concerned eyes staring back at you. Once his eyes landed on your sobbing form, he wraps his arms around you pulling you into his chest. You sobbed against him as he cooed in your ear. “what happened? You were just so happy what changed?” He questions. Sniffling as you pull back you explain what you had overheard. You notice a change in his demeanor, his fists balled up at his side. “Youre kidding right?” He growls behind a clenched jaw. You shake your head as you grab your bag “Can you please just bring me home?” you plead. He runs his hand through his hair. “Arent you going to talk to him?” He inquires. Shaking your head rapidly “Not....Not now” You state dejectedly “Not today”  

“Honey, theres no day but today.”  

“Ill do it another day Lix forreal I cant handle anymore right now”  

He shakes his head “No. Youre doing it today. Theres literally no day you should even do it but today. You don’t think hes going to figure out youre avoiding him?”

*PING*  

Your phone sounds. Seeing his contact name pop up you open his message.  

Quickly, locking your phone without responding you turn your attention back to Felix. “Can you bring me home? Yes or No? Cause if not I have to leave now while I still havent seen him”  

*PING*  

Rolling your eyes at his nerve to be annoyed. “Felix~!” you beg as your phone goes off once more. Irritation filling you at his words.  “Fine, BUT you owe me” Felix groans pulling your attention away from your phone for a second. “nice to know your profiting off of my misery some friend you are....” You groan as you finally respond to Hyunjin.  

You smile to yourself at your petty use of the nickname you called Felix that Hyunjin absolutely hated. Feeling quite proud of yourself as your phone goes off with countless messages now being ignored. Walking with Felix out of the auditorium and into the parking lot you see his familiar black and red motorcycle. You hesitate at the thought of actually getting on it. Felix grabs his spare helmet and holds it out to you. Grabbing a hold of the item you feel a hand wrap around your wrist and turn you around. Your eyebrows scrunch together as you force your hand out of the persons grip. Your heart cracks once more as you come face to face with Hyunjin, an irritated scowl on his features. “Is there something you want?” You growl.  

“Yeah why the fuck are you going home with Felix?” He snaps back. “Woah, okay dude relax she just asked me for a ride home” Felix quips from behind you. You can see the fire in Hyunjin’s eyes “Are you my fucking girlfriend?!” he spits. Felix chuckles to himself “She wont be your girlfriend for long....” he mutters under his breath as he rolls his eyes. “Y/Nie~, ill wait over there for you just let me know when your ready to go” Felix states calmly as he wraps one arm around your shoulder giving you a small side hug before ruffling your hair and walking over to the bench by the entrance.  

You nod softly before looking at the ground. “What the hell is your problem?!” you snap, you notice the confusion on Hyunjin’s face. You’ve never really truly yelled at him before so to say he was shocked would be an understatement; but his shock was soon replaced with anger as he growls “MY PROBLEM?!” you nod before shoving him back slightly “Yeah! Your problem. Why are you such a dick to Felix? Hes been nothing but a good friend to me, and you always act like such an ass to him for literally no reason”  

“Why cant you see he wants to be with you?!”  

“WHY DOES IT MATTER?!” You snarl “Its not like we’re anything serious right?”  

You cant help but feel guilty as you see hurt flash across Hyunjins face “We’re- we arent anything serious?” His voice is laced with pain. “Why would—why would you say something like that?” you notice tears in his eyes his voice growing shaky. “Its what you told Ye-na right?” You stare at him, tears filling your eyes as you remember why you wanted Felix to bring you home. “what?......” His voice is so small its almost inaudible “w-where did you hear that?”  

“So its true? Nice to know” you state matter of factly crossing your arms over your chest as a stray tear makes its way down your cheek.  

“N-no! I didn’t--I wouldn’t---I never told that to anyone. I am serious about us” He declares in a panic as he reaches for you, you take a step back. “Babe....” He pleads. “i swear I-I never said that to Ye-na" you shake your head at him lifting your hand “And shes just so delusional that she thinks you two slept together as well right?” Sarcasm drips off your tone like venom. His face drops his mouth hanging open to say something before closing it again unable to find the words. You scoff at his hesitance “So you did. You slept with her?” He steps close to you once again you step back.  

“not recently......”  

“Please just—just delete my number” Your hurt obvious in the way your voice cracks, Hyunjin’s tears begin to fall “What?” His voice is shaky “N-no. Why?” you shake your head in disbelief “Because you cheated on me Hyunjin are you stupid or something?”  

“No I didn’t I swear! Baby I never cheated on you, me and ye-na was a long time ago before us please belie-believe me” His hand finally is able to wrap around your wrist pulling you into him burying his face in your neck. You shake your head as you attempt force your way out of his arms “Let. Me. Go.” You growl. Hyunjin shakes his head as his arms wrap around you tighter “No! No I cant” he cries “I cant youre going to leave” you continue your fight as you feel your shirt growing wet, Hyunjin’s form now trembling. “please! I cant lose you please.....I would never---I could never cheat on you please don’t go please just listen to me” He sobbed. You look over to Felix signalling him to come back and start his motorcycle. You shake your head “I cant. I cant do this anymore Hyunjin”  

“NO! Stop please im Hyunnie, your Hyunnie. Please, please I don’t know what else to do babe I didn’t cheat on you. Im serious about us im so fucking serious about us please believe that! I cant lose you, not like this, not because of her I swear nothing happened with her in so fucking long. I’ve only been with you. I only want you please at least let me prove that” He pleads as you hear the roar of Felix’s engine. Finally pulling yourself away from his arms, you take one final look at Hyunjin’s face. He still looked absolutely perfect, even as he cried. Your heart raced as you felt his lips press against yours. Your resolve almost crumbles as his lips moved against yours, the taste of his tears mixing with your own. Pulling away he presses his forehead against yours his hands on either side of your face. “Im sorry, I just cant trust you.” you cry, he shakes his head “please don’t do this, I love you please” he pleads, youre heart breaks at his confession. Taking a step back. “let’s........break up” you declare softly as you hop on the back of Felix’s bike and tap him signalling for him to drive away.  

Ignoring the flurry of calls and text messages now flooding your phone you allow the tears to fall completely and whole heartedly, you sob into Felix’s back.

[loganelfreeces]

Hi, I’ve been seeing windbreaker stuff on my dash for a bit now. Would you mind telling me about it?

Hello dear Follower and THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE CHANCE TO INFO DUMP ABOUT MY NEWEST OBSESSION!

Wind Breaker (Stylised all capitals) is a manga by Satoru Nii, who has written one series before: Danshi Badminton-bu ni Joshi ga Magireteru: Secret Badminton Club, a sports comedy I haven't read so I can't say anything about it. Nii-sensei is a big fan of Tokyo Revengers, a delinquant anime I also haven't watched, but Wind Breaker has been compared to it a bunch because they share a genre.

The manga recently got adapted by studio CloverWorks, who adapted The Promised Neverland, Spy X Family and Black Butler: Public School Arc. The soundtrack was done by one Ryo Takahashi and it is beautiful!

The anime follows the adventures of one Haruka Sakura, who's been bullied in a normal every day Japan his entire life for his completely natural protagonisty looks. As such, he decided the only reasonable response was to become a badass delinquant who don't need no friends to become the King of Furin High School, the country's most famous delinquant high school where fights happen every day and the local area is terrorised all the time.

Except when Sakura arrives, he ends up helping out Tachibana Kotoha when some guys were harassing her and when she thanks him for saving her from these thugs, he does this:

"It's not like I saved you or anything! I just couldn't stand that guy!"

And I have been fucking obsessed with this little Tsundere ever since.

So is everyone else in the town of Makochi, because it turns out that the students of Furin High School have been united under the banner of one Umemiya Hajime.

Umemiya got them all to protect the town from the rival gangs and teams, allowing Makochi to have some peaceful days so every time we see some random extra, they're almost always showering the Furin kids in free food and praise.

And our beloved, adorable Sakura, has almost certainly never been treated with any kindness, so it's beautiful watching how he reacts.

Of course, just because the town is peaceful, doesn't mean there aren't problems. There's no police so, Furin have to protect the town from violent gangs, like:

Shishitoren, the Devotees of Power

KEEL, the bastards who rule with an iron fist of fear

And every random unnamed small gang of mooks who pop up when things get too chill.

Luckily for us, we've got plenty of interesting characters in Bofurin to help Sakura get socialised like the feral kitten that he is and to fight the bad guys!

We've got Nirei Akihiko, the weak but clever guy who knows everything about everyone and has a pretty strong backbone, all things considered. (He is not a new Zenitsu, stop comparing the two)

We've got Suo Hayato, the fan favourite who introduced himself as being "Leonardo Dicpario" and then spent his entire first fight in the anime psycholocally analysing and torturing his opponant.

We've got Sugishita Kyotaro, the silent but zealous Umemiya fanboy who hates Sakura because he still wants to become Top Of The School.

We've got Hiragi Toma, the ever exhausted Dad leader of the Tamon Team and one of Umemiya's 4 Kings, his direct advisors and helpers.

We've got Umemiya Hajime himself, the goofy third year leader of Furin High School who has proclaimed himself everyone's Big Brother and sees everyone in Makochi as part of his family because of his Tragic Backstory.

Plus loads more I do not have the time to get into.

The anime is soooo fun, full of really funny scenes, but also really heart warming ones. It's all about building and being active in your community to make things better for those around you, listening to the people around you to understand them, how to be a good leader and when to stand your ground and when to let others help you.

The manga also has some very strong themes about being yourself around Haruka and an extremely Queer Manga only character who has cameoed in the anime, but hasn't made a proper introduction yet. Tsubakino "Tsubaki-chan" Tasuku.

I won't spoil things too much, but Furin is an All Boy's School and Tsubaki-chan has a very strong personal arc about their clothing choices, hair choices and their feelings for Umemiya. And it's all handled very kindly and sincerely.

Season 2 has been announced for sometime next year while the Manga just hit 150 chapters. I'd highly recommend getting interested, because it very much feels like things are only just getting started for Windbreaker.

Please come be insane about Windbreaker with me.

[pjisskullourful]

𝗣𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵

🔒 Thomas × reader [sequel to DISTANTLY LONGING]

NSFW 🔥 filth& feels smutty play

° Thomas Raggi/female reader insert ✨ cameo by: Damiano David

wordcount::: 5,369

° you're hanging out with måneskin on tour for a few days, but somethings got thomas feeling territorial over you

° commissioned by my absolute most beloved jace(@punk-gremlin)💋[requests are open but commissions get priority- there are 2 fics in cue, secure your own spot right here]

° [ITA:] cucciolo: puppy - principessa: princess

“What do you mean that you don’t know how to whistle?” Damiano asked, extra animated. You didn’t know why this would matter so much to him.

But you weren’t about to dismiss someone so important to your boyfriend. This time joining Måneskin’s tour was the time to bond with Thomas’ closest friends. You had spent plenty of time with them before but you couldn’t turn down an opportunity to make a good impression.

“I can never do it right.” You said.

You and the lead singer were sitting on separate sofas, chatting to kill time before the band were due to begin their set for this festival. Elsewhere in this common area, Thomas was playing pinball. You thought he was within earshot, but he wasn’t going out of his way to include himself in your conversation, he didn’t need to.

Damiano’s feet were planted on the ground, his arms rested on his legs as he leaned in toward you. He was wearing a friendly smile as he had been the entire time you had been talking.

“Come on, you must know how- you just put your lips together and blow.” He said.

The smile was still splashed across his features as he formed his mouth into a tight circle. It wasn’t a pout as if he were about to pose for a photo. As you started to copy him, Thomas came into your field of vision - standing instead of sitting with you.

“Yeah, I know what I’m supposed to do, but the wires in my brain are crossed or something. ‘Cause I don’t blow the air out, I suck.” You earnestly explained and Damiano’s eyes lit up. You further made your point by demonstrating your lacklustre whistling skills.

It sounded so terrible that it looked like he was about to start laughing, a reaction that didn’t surprise you. Your whistling was quiet and breathy, you didn’t know how to adjust the pitch. You ran out of air too fast to be able to carry a tune. You knew it was silly to hear.

“Wow. I hope you’re better at sucking than you are at blowing.” He joked, still smiling in that non-condescending way.

Suddenly and unprompted, Thomas offered you his hand to hold. It was automatic for you to put your hand in his, even though you didn’t get up immediately. You still had something to say to Damiano.

“Yeah, I can blow up a balloon. Unlike this guy.” You said and you pointed to Thomas. “It’s only whistling that-”

He cleared his throat rather loudly. “Can I please talk to you for a moment?”

You looked away from Damiano and found a strange expression on your boyfriend’s face. You began getting to your feet, none too worried about this conversation coming to an end.

“Of course.” You said and he didn’t wait to start walking, heading towards the door to his dressing room with you in tow.

“See ya later.” Damiano sang out after you and you waved to him over your shoulder.

It appeared that Thomas was displeased, annoyed even. It wasn’t often that you saw him like this. It was a palpable attitude that surrounded him and his shoulders appeared broader at this moment.

You tried to think quickly, were you being oblivious to something that everyone else had picked up on? You had spent the whole day with him and you hadn’t noticed this mood at any earlier point. According to your recollection, there were no causes for concern.

The door to his private dressing room stood mostly open. You followed him into the unoccupied space with him letting go of your hand so that he could shut the door entirely.

You didn’t feel comfortable enough to sit down on the sofa, or even lean against a wall. “Is something wrong, cucciolo?”

He wasn’t quite making eye contact as he stood separate from you. He rested his ass against the vanity table and held his arms folded over his chest. “Why haven’t you called Damiano out, or told him to knock it off? He’s been unbearable all day, but you have just been letting him get away with it.”

Your throat felt thick because here it was: the evidence that you were ignorant to a fault. You were beginning to get embarrassed because you didn’t know what he was talking about, even though it seemed like you should.

“Get away with what?” You asked in a quiet voice.

“Flirting with you. Basically everything he’s said to you today has been innuendo and you haven’t tried to discourage him, not even a little bit.” Thomas said.

You paused, your brow furrowed as you attempted to assess the day from this new perspective. No clear examples came to your mind. “He’s been flirting with me?”

“Yes. You didn’t notice that comment he made about not caring if you accidentally saw all of the nudes on his phone?” Thomas asked.

You could remember that joke but you had laughed it off, before being distracted by the photos and videos of his cats, that was the reason his phone had been in your hand to begin with.

“Why would he flirt with me?” You asked, feeling strange and unsettled now.

“‘Cause he thinks it’s funny, especially if it bugs me.” He said.

“I thought that’s all he was doing: trying to be funny and that’s why he was smiling at me so much. But I didn’t think anything he was saying was all that funny. But I wasn’t gonna be rude and tell him that he shouldn’t quit his day job to become a stand-up comic.” You explained.

As you were talking, the look on your boyfriend’s face had started to change. You were less sure which emotion he was feeling now, but he was meeting your eye more.

“You didn’t know?” He asked.

“No, I really thought that his sense of humour was a little weird, just different to mine, which has happened to me before.” You said.

“I thought you had been playing along this whole time.” He said, you were positive that his bad mood had run its course. Now he just seemed deflated, maybe a little embarrassed - like you.

“I was just trying to be friendly.” You said.

“And you were, you were being really nice and social.” He said, starting to cross the floor over to you. “I’m sorry for this, my whole reaction.” You offered your hand to hold this time and he took it. “I’m sorry if I sounded like- if you thought I was angry at you. I never want to be angry at you, principessa.”

You placed your other hand to his cheek, cupping it as you looked into his light eyes. “I never want to make you angry. I don’t know what I did, but I wish I could take it back.”

“No, no, you did nothing wrong.” He said then he moved in closer to give you a kiss just beside your lips. “You were just having a conversation, you didn’t know he was teasing me.” He kissed you on the cheek. “It’s my fault for assuming you were in on the joke.”

“I didn’t even know there was a joke.” You said.

He gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “That’s nothing you have to apologise for, okay?” He wrapped an arm around your waist, you were pleased to feel the physical connection growing. “I’m the one who needs to apologise. And Damiano, I should make him apologise.”

You looked at him with your brow furrowed. “Was he making fun of me?”

“No, no, no.” He said, giving you a couple of kisses on the cheek. “He was teasing me. He knew it would annoy me if he flirted with my girlfriend.”

You still didn’t fully understand this situation, but it didn’t seem like it would give you reason to be upset now that the two of you were talking it out. “I don’t need Damiano to flirt with me, I don’t need anyone to flirt with me. I’m yours.” You initiated the kiss this time, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He leaned into you and your mouth parted a little for him. “You know that, don’t you?”

He kept his forehead resting against yours, the distance between the two of you dwindling. “Yeah, I know it. But sometimes logic gets lost and these stupid insecurities happen, I-”

You cut him off by placing a firm kiss onto his mouth. He didn’t resist, not needing to finish making that point. As he kissed you back, he wrapped both of his arms around you, his hands gripping your lower back. The earlier worry was transforming into a different kind of energy: adrenaline. If he wasn’t already feeling it with you, you wanted to get him there.

“You don’t need to be, but…” As you talked, you dragged your fingers up the nape of his neck. “It’s hot when you get jealous.”

“Hot?” He repeated, eyebrows lifting in intrigue, rather than judgement.

“Yeah, you can be territorial about me anytime.” You said as you twirled his hair around your finger.

He was smiling as he started to kiss you more. You could have said more - you could have spoken about knowing exactly how jealousy felt. You could have told him how flattering it was that he thought you were worth any jealousy.

But you didn’t stop kissing him. This seemed like the most direct way for the two of you to get in sync with one another again.

The hem of your loose dress was lifted when he moved both of his hands under the material. You gave his top lip a suck as he began moving his hands up your back. On the path down again, he applied his fingernails to your skin. They weren’t sharp or especially long, but as he used the right amount of pressure, you felt a pleasant stinging. Keen tingles moved through you and you sucked harder on his lip.

He dragged his nails up your back and you couldn’t help thinking back to instances when he had left scratch marks on your skin. You had savoured wearing his marks, carrying the signs of his lust on your body for days. You would be flattered to have more - the ultimate, personalised accessories. 

As your heart consistently picked up speed, you applied your teeth to his lip. It was firm without being an actual bite, enough to show him the hunger coursing through your veins. Even though you liked the idea of being the reason his lip got swollen.

“I love you.” He said between kisses.

“I love you too, cucciolo.” You said.

You tightened your arm around him and tilted your head to allow for a deeper kiss. You moved your tongue forward, touching his as you invaded his mouth.

He raked his nails down your back, then kept going lower, just using a firm caress. He passed his hands over your butt, moving down to reach the backs of your thighs.

When he squeezed, you felt a new burst of endorphins. This time it came from pain because he had just grabbed you over a fresh bruise. It had been spotted by him this morning when you had been dressing, getting ready to leave the hotel.

It had been easy to figure out the cause: the chest of draws that he had guided you to instantly upon getting to your hotel suite. The two of you had embraced your new privacy with him pushing you onto the top of this furniture, fucking you there.

You quietly hissed as you drew back from him slightly. “You’re right on the bruise there.”

“I know.” He said, showing you a smile before he kissed you again.

“You’re just admiring your handiwork, are you?”

“Something like that.”

You tightened your arms around his neck, arching your back into him as he continued to press his fingers into the bruise.

“We have time.” You told him, referring to the hours left before their set started.

“We have time and I have a need.” He said.

“I’ve got a need, too.” You said.

“What’s your need?” He asked, his voice huskier than usual.

“To prove to you how much, totally and completely, I’m yours.”

You further emphasised your point by eagerly pushing your lips against his. Instantly he matched the energy of this kiss. It was swiftly followed by more, until you were getting short on breath.

“Please tell me you have a condom.” He said.

“Yeah, in my purse.” 

“I’ll check that I did actually lock the door.” He said, releasing you from his secure hold.

While he went to the door, you retrieved your bag from beneath the vanity table. You tended to carry a lot with you, packing things into the bag with the mentality of I might need this. Amongst the rest of your thorough inventory, you found the wrapped condom.

You turned around to see him sitting on the sofa, having already shed his T-shirt, shoes and jeans. You handed over the condom and, with a smile, you reached for the bottom of your dress. You pulled it up and over your head, not hesitating to remove your bra too.

He beckoned you closer with a curling of his index finger. “Get over here, I wanna enjoy that body that was made for me.”

You held his cheeks in your hands as you moved in to kiss him. He grabbed you firmly, bringing you to where your chests could be pressed together as he wrapped his arms around you.

He used his hold to move you, redirecting you closer to the sofa, the side of your leg bumping into this soft surface. You didn’t need to part from his lips for him to tell you what he wanted, you knew what to do. You climbed onto the couch, planting your knees on the pillow as you remained in his embrace for a few more wonderful moments.

He twisted his body around so that he could face you as he brought the kiss to a gradual end. “Lay down for me, on your back.”

You readjusted and laid back, finding the lounge to be comfortable. It wasn’t covered in leather that made horrendous sounds with every movement, nor was the soft material itchy against so much of your bare skin. With your head at the opposite end of the sofa to his current position, you could keep him in your sights. You watched him remove his dick from his underwear and take the condom out of its wrapper.

“Look at that wet patch.” He said, his eyes on your purple panties. “You weren’t lying about that whole jealousy thing turning you on.”

You kept your legs parted, your knees raised, because you didn’t want to hide something that he deemed worthy of admiration. “It’s not just the jealousy, it’s so much more than that. It’s the way that you do stuff like scratching my back and I don’t even have to ask, you just know to do it.” You watched him covering his erection with the latex. “I don’t need- I would never want anyone but you, Tommy. You’re the only one who can make me feel so good.”

Once the condom was in place, he started to move toward you. On top of your body, he crawled closer. As he did this you noticed that there was something changed in his smile, it looked slyer now, this wasn’t the way he would smile when posing for a photo. You knew that this smile was just for you.

You also knew that he could never sneak innuendo past you. With all of the time you had spent looking at him and getting to know his facial expressions, you were able to read him well enough that you could tell when he was building up to something sexual.

“I can make you feel so good right now.” He said, settling his body on top of yours as your faces got to the same height.

“Yes, please.” You quietly moaned as you draped your arms around his shoulders. “I’m yours and that’s the only way I want it. I don’t want anyone else.”

He began pulling your underwear down. “Not even pretty boy singers?”

Immediately you remembered Damiano saying that of himself a few hours earlier. It had been while you were mucking around with filters on Snapchat and you had found one that claimed (with just a face scan) it could reveal the compatibility of two people. You and Thomas had been rated only 35% on this scale.

Damiano had wanted to see what results he could get. Holding his cheek to Thomas’, they had gotten 50%. Then he had sat beside you, and what you knew had to be randomly generated numbers appeared on the screen: 92%. And he had been ready to remark that perhaps you would be better suited to a ‘pretty boy singer’. You had joked about the scientific accuracy of anything coming from Snapchat, moving on without much thought.

Seemingly it had earned more thought from Thomas, and you would love to help lay the whole thing to rest. Then the two of you could move on together, neither left behind.

“Definitely not pretty boy singers.” You assured him.

He was pulling your panties down your legs as he started to kiss you again. You moved one of your feet from out of its leghole, then the other. He pushed his body firmer on yours, the increase in pressure delighting you. You held your arms tighter around him, wanting to feel every part of him on you.

“Gimme your leg. Where’s that bruise?” He asked.

You smiled as you lifted your leg for him. At the same time you were now feeling his hips on yours and his cock lined up with your ready pussy.

He grabbed your thigh, he didn’t actually need to be reminded of the spot. His fingers created indents in the soft area as he held on, his digits on top of the minor injury.

As he gripped you experienced refreshed stinging and you arched your back, revelling in it. He didn’t ease off and you loved it, loved getting to enjoy more of it. Settling into the sensation, you found that the pain dulled out everything else. You could let go of earlier thought cycles, taking this situation at face value that he was no longer upset. At once you were given clear and impactful intensity.

“You like that, principessa? Yeah, I know you do.” He said and you felt a new pressure at your entrance, his head in exactly the right spot. “You fucking love it.”

He pushed into your wet cunt, gradually letting his inches disappear inside of you. You parted your legs further for him, appreciatively moaning as you felt him going deeper.

Your chest rapidly rose-and-fell and you could feel his cock twitching within you. The excitement climbed even higher and you were grateful to reaffirm your connection to him in this way.

You moved your hand up into his hair, gripping the shaggy locks between your fingers as he grinded forward. At this depth, he began to work his hips, plunging into your pussy.

He found a rhythm, consistently stroking his length into you. He released his hold on your leg and you let out a shaky sigh, feeling the intensity in different (but equally pleasing) places now.

He moved his hand to your hip, gripping you here as you moved to begin matching him. You copied his speed, dedicating your energy to this synergy. The extra movements encouraged more tingles into your body, the lust swelling up, demanding almost all of your attention.

“Claim me.” You said, the current effort made your voice strained, but your words carried the intended determination. He looked at you, focused even though his lids appeared heavier than usual. “Fuck me hard, Thomas.”

His next rut into you came with more power, the impact having greater effect. He didn’t hesitate to follow this up with a second one, letting you feel even more of his strength. He continued at this vigorous speed, going faster than you as you were feeling the marvellous aroused heat spreading through your entire system.

Your hold on his hair had gotten so tight that it was pulling a little. But you didn’t release it, relaxing anything right now didn’t feel like an option.

“Your princess needs it.” You told him.

He maintained this new impassioned tempo and you started to think that you could match him again. Your body was full of tension as you resumed your movements, snapping your hips in time with him, quick and excited. You shut your eyes as you clung to him, not needing to know anything beyond the collisions of your bodies.

Endorphins rushed you and you were desperate to keep going. Your inner-walls clenched around him as your sensitivities increased, making each jerk from his cock feel better than the last. The effects were only getting grander, building to something that could surely ruin you.

In addition to how he didn’t stop driving into you, he gave your clit some attention too. This came in the form of him slapping his fingers against the swollen hood. You jolted, unprepared and a little daunted by this sudden intensity.

You buried your face into the curve of his neck as you struggled to cope with the way these new sensations rocked you right to the core of your being. They were incredible, only adding to the ecstasy inside.

There was no opportunity to regulate yourself because he was soon applying more spanks to your clit. Your breath stalled and you wondered how much more you could truly take. You pressed hurried kisses onto the side of his neck, but it didn’t take long for this to progress to sucking at one spot. Your whimpers became muffled by his skin as you attempted to brace yourself.

“Are you trying to leave a mark of your own? Is my princess wanting to mark her territory now, hm?” He asked.

That sounded enough like encouragement to you. You sucked on this section of his skin harder, even briefly letting your teeth press against what was in your mouth. He continued to allow this, just moaning as he kept fucking into you with the same strength.

“You can give me a nasty hickey as I claim you- yes, you can, yes, yeh-mm.” He said.

As you kept sucking, he slapped your clitoral hood more. It didn’t sync up with his thrusting and so you were left at the mercy of surprise. The adrenaline continued to rule you.

You released his skin from your mouth as you felt a new peak achieved - one that really daunted you. “Ah, I’m- you’re getting me so close.”

He sounded cocky as he replied. “Yeah, it was starting to feel that way.”

He gave your clitoral hood another series of firm taps, making you feel like you could burst. You let out your loudest whimper, riding too high to feel even a hint of self-consciousness.

“You can come, princess.” He said, his voice so sweet. “You don’t have to wait for me. You can- oh, I want you to come.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.” You repeated under your breath as your grinding against him got truly desperate.

All that you wanted to do was surrender and let the pleasure totally take you over. This urge only got stronger with each powerful pump from his body.

When he spanked your clitoris a few more times, all of your effort went to jerking up into him. You lost your synchronisation with him. But you gained his tip crashing into your g-spot and it was so perfect that your fate was almost instantly sealed. You let out little cries as you held on.

The hot tension gripped your entire body as you stayed levitating above the sofa, remaining so close to him. You writhed as his every pump ended at your g-spot, taking you further than what you had known before.

You grinded until you captured your orgasm. The tension burst all through you while your pussy wildly spasmed, drawing out these sensations.

“Thomas… ah… mm’migod…” It was a jumble of sound until you altogether let go.

It was a total overload to your system, everything else entirely over-shadowed. He was all that you knew, the few coherent thoughts that you had were about only him.

It was a lovely way to exist, so you didn’t feel any need to rush back to reality.

The way he was still thrusting into you kept you riding your high. You rocked your hips with less vigour, but wanting him to get more of that pleasing friction. You dragged your fingernails over his scalp, steadily beginning to get your breath back. His remained consistently short, his energy going to the more important task at hand.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as you heard him quietly repeating your name. It was as if this was the only word that he knew. You murmured your encouragement, louder than him to ensure that you were heard because you were so eager to watch him come undone.

It wasn’t long before his movements began to lose their style. It wasn’t about maintaining a tempo, now it was about keeping his dick stimulated. He had his mouth hanging open, but that wasn’t helping him catch his breath, not even a little.

“Fuck, fuck.” He whined.

His eyes flashed open, seemingly facing his own surprise. Looking into his wide eyes, you didn’t think there was a single thought plaguing his mind, no concerns to slow him down as the orgasm thoroughly took him down.

He tossed his head back and you got to watch the muscles in his neck as he remained buried deep in you. The after effects of your climax continued to play through you, your cunt still fluttering and spasming around him. It was something that he didn’t want to stop enjoying, making no adjustments to pull out of you.

He exhaled heavily as he planted both hands on the couch, bracing himself as he rocked his body weight back slightly. You licked your lips, watching his ongoing effort to get his lungs back to full. You were fascinated by how he settled himself after the climax. You made mental notes, wanting a clear image for when he was so far away that phone sex was the only option.

He gently rocked toward you again, looking down. The first thing that you noticed was his smile and it made you smile too. Then you saw the way his eyes appeared to be half shut, the lids so heavy again. He was a sight that you loved to behold, seeing him with absolute clarity.

“My princess…” He said as he gazed down at you.

“I love you.” You said, lifting yourself up so that you could secure a kiss from him.

As he kissed you back, he drew in closer to you, filling your pussy a little more. Gradually he rocked back and a steady tempo was introduced for him to get in some more strokes. You were content to stay so close to him, your tongue gliding into his mouth.

You felt your orgasm slowly fade out as you continued to bask in this intimacy. The tremors lost their power until they could no longer be noticed at all. There were less moans and whines coming from him, now it was mostly sighs as he went on with his lazy back-and-forth.

He broke the kiss to coo out your name. At the same time he aimed for maximum proximity, rubbing the front of his body on yours. His eyes studied your expression and you studied his face as well.

“That’s hotter than jealousy.” You said.

“What is?” He asked.

“When you’re all happy and calm and pleased with yourself after sex. Just stay like this for as long as you like and I’ll keep admiring you.” You said.

“Stay like this?” He asked, he was getting even slower without fully stopping yet.

“Yes, it’s actually perfect ‘cause being in a hotel and on the road, I don’t have my weighted blanket. I miss it, not so terribly. But now it’s like I have an even better weighted blanket.” You said.

He brushed your hair back from your forehead. “I love being exactly what you need, and if what you need right now is a weighted blanket then here I am…”

You felt extra cosy when he let all of his body weight rest on top of you, not holding back or trying to support himself in other ways. Beneath this pressure, you were wonderfully grounded. He stopped his rocking, now just lying with you. You felt like there was no unwinding left to do as he got comfortable, laying his head next to yours on the sofa.

It was quite simple how good everything felt, your deep breathing falling into time with his. You didn’t need to speak, you could tell that he knew how you felt.

When you looked at him, he would show you a natural smile. There were a few kisses exchanged, but they didn’t need to build to anything more.

“Couldn’t you just stay like this forever?” He asked.

“Yeah. Except I, um, I have to go to the bathroom.” You said and it was almost laughable how one sentence could ruin the mood. But the calm in your mind had given you time to recognise the beginnings of a discomfort. “Sorry, Tom.”

He readjusted, lifting his body away from yours, his cock finally coming out of your cunt. He pushed himself against the sofa’s backrest, giving you the necessary space to get up. “That’s okay. I literally could have fallen asleep like that, which would be a bad idea.”

You kissed him before getting up. “Do you want me to get you a Red Bull from that other room?”

“Yes please, principessa.”

As you pulled your clothes back on, he remained on the couch, laying out flat and looking comfortable. You knew he wouldn’t rush to get himself covered up, so you grabbed your own jacket. You laid this over his butt, giving him a bit of modesty if someone checked in here while you were gone.

Before heading for the door, you checked yourself quickly in the mirror. You were pleased with your earlier decision to not apply lipstick. So far as you could tell, your appearance wasn’t too different from when you and Thomas had come in here. You didn’t carry any obvious signs of being dishevelled.

You opened the door and stepped out of the privacy. Everything seemed exactly the same and you could quickly go toward the bathroom. There weren’t many people around, and those who were hardly paid attention to you passing by.

Then you went to the fridge, starting to feel like you were going to get away with this secret. You grabbed a can of energy drink, ready to rejoin your boyfriend.

When you turned around you found that Damiano was now standing in the room with you. His eyes were wide as he looked at you and it didn’t appear that he was on the verge of making a comment, as he typically would.

You remained where you were, heart beating a little faster because you worried what he might say if given the chance. You were getting the sense that he knew. He could probably see the clues and put it together that you were freshly fucked. There was something different about how he was looking at you, as if he was seeing something different.

You didn’t give him the chance to say something cheeky, or something that could magnify this awkwardness. You didn’t give him an excuse to pick apart. You just walked away, not saying anything.

The secret remained secure, until you reached for the dressing room door and he broke the silence. “Hey, don’t use up all of his energy. He needs at least a little for the set later.”

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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ARC REVIEW: Honey Cut by Sierra Simone

5/5. Releases 6/18/24.

vibes: WEAPONIZED LONGING, the perfect angst recipe, the man Lana Del Rey was singing about but much better, We Can't Discuss Our Feelings Because My Feelings Are Hard

Heat Index: 10/10

Isolde Laurence is in a bind (literally, at points). She's about to marry Mark Trevena (the cold, dangerous man who deflowered her and promptly crushed her heart) in an arrangement that will enable her to seduce him and offer his secrets to her uncle, a high-ranking cardinal. However, on her way to do so, she's fallen in love with Mark's romantic, pining bodyguard Tristan. And Tristan--who very much loves her back--is also in love with Mark, thanks to a preexisting whirlwind affair he put a stop to upon finding out about the engagement. Isolde is determined to, if nothing else, guard her heart against her new husband. And, for personal and practical reasons, honor the agreement they made years ago: once they exchange vows, they'll be faithful to each other.

Easier said than done.

But Isolde herself is deadlier than she seems, and in the midst of a thorny triangle, she may end up crushing not only Tristan's heart, but her own... and maybe even Mark's. If he has one.

Well, this was my most-anticipated release of the year, and BY GOD did it live up to expectations. This is an ongoing series (you must read Salt Kiss before starting this one, and in my opinion? You should ABSOLUTELY also read the prequel novella, Salt in the Wound, as it lays the groundwork for Mark and Isolde's relationship) and of course, I don't want to count chickens before they hatch, but... If Sierra pulls the ending off--which I totally believe she will; she's yet to let me down--this could end up being her best series yet. And that is a LOT coming from me, someone who worships at the altar of New Camelot (and Thornchapel, for that matter).

The thing about the way Sierra writes triads--and nobody does it better--is that they all feel unique. You might think that Mark, Isolde, and Tristan would have a lot in common with New Camelot's Ash, Greer, and Embry. They're MMF, they're based on Arthurian myth, these people literally know each other (Sierra: I owe you my life for that cameo). But the dynamic is completely different--and in this installment especially, quite darker. I didn't see Mark's darkness as much in Salt Kiss (Salt in the Wound... perhaps more so, which gives you some insight into the differences between his individual dynamics with Isolde versus Tristan) but here? Um. She portrayed the conflict within him and his ruthlessness perfectly... While also letting us even further into the vulnerability she hinted at in Salt Kiss.

Mark can be a difficult character for readers to humanize, I think, because we haven't had his POV yet. It's easy to sort of dismiss him as this frosty, stern alpha who doles out pain while also dealing with plenty of his own (on the inside, because Mark is clearly very uncomfortable with feeling a feeling). Where she makes it brilliant is through these moments of BOYISHNESS. We got sneak peeks of boyish Mark in Salt Kiss, but here? Oh my god. The grins, the poking at Tristan, the GOOFY HOT FACETIME SEX WITH ISOLDE??? It's so human, and dropping those sneak peeks in makes his pain even more palatable.

And the thing is that you do get that pain. Because Sierra also doesn't shy away from the agony of a love triangle and, yes, cheating in this book. I often find that MMF is used in a sort of like... "Why choose? Heehee it's all okay because everyone wants each other" get out of jail free card. Sierra really doesn't do that ever, but this is the hardest she's gone in on "these people are cheating, and it HURTS the person they're cheating on, and it HURTS them". No punches are pulled here. This is one of the angstiest books I've read, and as an angst hound, I loved every second of it.

The ending? I am going to be in actual PAIN until Bitter Burn (out early next year, SHIT). There was a moment in the last few pages of this book that made me gasp. In part because I really didn't think she'd go there on multiple levels. This is a book of huge swings, and for me, every single one worked.

Quick Takes:

--I have been very vocal about how much the one time Mark called Tristan "puppy" in a cut scene (Beg Me, which you should absolutely read if you can--I think it's on Sierra's website) has not left my head since. Guess what? It's just a regular nickname now. He says it SEVERAL times in this book, in prime moments. And I was extremely happy.

--You can for sure read this series on its own, but I will say that this book in particular "spoils" a good bit of New Camelot. In the same way that any romance in the same universe or series of standalones sort of spoils others, but if you want to read chronologically without any giveaways, you should read that series first. And in general, read it even if you do read Lyonesse first. Because it's gorgeous.

--I can't emphasize enough how happy Isolde and Mark's dirty Facetime calls made me. Like. At the end of the day, Mark is just like any other man with a hot young wife, desperately trying to get a peek over his phone. While someone else peeks, perhaps.

--Isolde's such a fantastic heroine. Broken and devoted to God and maybe lowkey a zealot, while also craving physical and emotional pain and release and Tristan's soft heart and Mark's cold one all at once. She's the kind of heroine we very rarely get to read about in romance. If I'm being honest, I was a little worried about how the dynamics would balance here, as so much of the last book was Mark and Tristan on their own, and then the remainder was Tristan and Isolde on their own. (Which is another reason why you should read Salt in the Wound first, in my opinion.) But God. The dynamic of the three, the dynamic between Mark and Isolde, just blew me away. Two black cats circling each other, Mark perhaps a little more reticent to open up to Isolde than Tristan because he recognizes something of himself in her.

While at the same time, I found that Tristan and Isolde's relationship deepened. I always fully believed in their agonized love for Mark, and their desire to stay loyal to him. Yet I also completely believed that they couldn't possibly stay away from each other, not permanently.

--Mark's backstory? I foresaw some surface level stuff, but not the parts that mattered. Those kind of blew my mind.

The Sex:

I mean, it's Sierra Simone, so it's creative and very much a part of the character development. One of the sex scenes in this book was so... it was really one of the best she's ever written. But also? DEVIOUS. Sierra, you did not have to do us like that. However, I'm glad you did.

There are so many different "flavors" of sex in this book--super kinky, kinda vanilla (or as vanilla as these people can get), happy, angsty, sad, passionate, light, funny.

You can expect, among other things: restraints, impact play, cum play, breeding, biting, public sex (a lot of that), car sex, edging, voyeurism, pain play, cum licking.......... all that shit. And more!

Look, dude. Read this book if you've read the other books. If you haven't read the other books, read those and then read this book. I can't recommend it enough. This is angsty, passionate, heady romance at its best. Hot and emotionally complex and well-written. Sierra's prose! It's what romance should be; she sets the pace, and we all must chase it.

Thanks to Candi Kane PR for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.