#anyway yeah dancers are the best

[unmeiokaemasu]

I was gonna be like "man Azura is one of my favorite singers(/dancers)" and then I remembered that Reyson and Ninian exist...the dancer(/singer/refresher) class is my favorite in fire emblem btw and I WILL die on this hill

[jiishwa]

got like the ultimate compliment after ballet class tonight when one of the instructors who teaches the upper level class came up to me and was like “where did you study? where did you come from? i can tell you’ve been doing this for a long time” and i legit had to look him in the eyes and be like “hi, i come from nowhere, i’ve been doing this with youtube videos for like six months 🙂”

[bandsanitizer]

always. always! always!!! here for the growth the kingdom showcases in their performances. that their music continues to grow and their vocals and dancing continues to improve. that they keep pushing themselves to develop and hone their artistry. they’ve come so far and I’m so excited to see where they’ll go.

[no-144444]

pointe shoes and racecars- o.piastri

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summary: you and oscar had grown up together, and grown apart. now you're teaching him ballet for a mclaren video. will you two reconnect?

pairing: oscar piastr x fem! ballerina! dancer

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Oscar Piastri was your best friend’s older brother, what could go wrong? 

You’d moved to Melbourne when you were a kid with the rest of your family, and your brother quickly started karting at a local track. In comes the Piastri’s. You were sitting on the sidelines, bored out of your mind when a little girl a bit older than you came up to you with another girl, about your age, and another little girl, much younger than all three of you. 

“Which one’s yours?” The eldest asked. 

“The one in the red kart, my brother. You?”

“The one in the fluro yellow. He’s our brother,” she explained. “I’m Hattie, that’s Addie, and that’s Mae. Wanna be friends?”

You nodded. “Yeah! I’m Y/n.”

And since that day, you were. Turns out you and Addie ended up in the same class in school and became fast friends, then you ended up in the same ballet class, and it all snowballed from there. Playdates became hangouts and dolls became bitch-sessions, and soon enough you were all grown up. You were a constant in the Piastri family home, sleeping over most nights to carpool to early ballet, then school, then back to ballet, and then back to the Piastri home. You watched every race with the girls, growing up alongside Oscar and your brother from the beginning. You watched both of them in Formula Renault, Formula 3, Formula 2, and finally, Oscar’s second year Formula 1 was coming up, while you brother (Jack) was staying yet another year in F2. It was funny, whenever Oscar was home in recent years, you always seemed to miss him. You didn’t mind. Oscar and you weren’t all that close, you were closest to Addie, Hattie, Mae, and Nicole. Though, he texted you when he was away and you responded, apologising for missing him, he always told you that he’d ‘see you on the stage one day anyway’. He’d always supported you. You’d always supported him.

Sadly, your time living with the Piastri’s had come to an end. You had been given the chance of a lifetime in the form of a full scholarship to the Paris Opera Ballet School, and you weren’t going to turn it down, much to Nicole’s dismay. That was two years ago. Two full years of living in Paris, down. 

Paris was amazing. You missed your family and you missed everyone back in Melbourne, but you loved it in Paris. Your new fellow dancers were so welcoming and nice, and you’d made fast friends with a group of them. You’d been doing French in school since you were a kid, and you loved getting to speak it with native speakers. You’d even been named an Etoile (star) in your first year. You’d helped the Paris Opera Ballet with their online presence and started a YouTube channel with some of your fellow dancers which had garnered over 4 million subscribers. Everything was brilliant. 

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“Alright everyone, gather around!” Carole called. “We have been invited to the McLaren garage this weekend for the Monaco Gran Prix,” she explained. “We will be attempting to teach some of the staff some of  Balcony Pas de deux from ‘Romeo and Juliet’, and also having a photo shoot with Vogue while we are there. Y/n and Hugo, I want those lifts as clean as possible! Chop chop!”

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The week went by and finally you were walking into the McLaren motorhome behind one of the staff members who was showing you around. In the end only 3 people from the company were required to go, Hugo (Romeo), Laura (one of the company's pianists), and you (Juliet). You walked around, keeping an eye out for Oscar, or the rest of the Piastri family who had all told you they’d be visiting. 

You were quickly ushered into a makeshift filming studio and told to warm up while they gathered the people you’d be doing the video with you. You chatted and warmed up, trying a few of the lifts from the show and just generally practising your moves. 

The door swung open and there he was. Oscar with a grim look on his face who hadn’t even recognised you. 

“Do we really have to do this?” he not-so-subtly asked Lando beside him. 

“Mate I don’t want to do it either-”

“Y/N!” Nicole’s voice cut through all the noise of the motorhome and the piano stopped. She ran and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug as you laughed. 

“Hi Nicole,” you beamed, hugging her back. Hattie, Addie, and Mae weren’t far behind her, and joined in on the hug, emotions flowing as you all started to catch up. 

“How are you? How’s work? How’s Paris?” Hattie asked immediately. 

“How’s Paris? Is it amazing? Can I visit sometime?” Mae asked, speaking over her sister. 

“How are you?!” Addie squealed, taking your hands. 

“I’m great, so happy to see the four of you,” you smiled but it dampened as Hugo reminded you of the job at hand. “Sorry guys, we’ll need to catch up later, the fun police has just-”

“Quoi? Je ne suis pas la « police du plaisir » ! Nous avons un travail à faire !” (What? I am not the 'fun police'! We have a job to do!) He defended, but by then the girls had already cleared out, and you’d already turned your attention to Oscar and Lando. 

“Hi,” you smiled at Oscar. 

“Hi,” he smiled back, a hint of blush on his cheek. “I almost didn’t recognise you.”

“I could say the same for you,” you chuckled. “Became a Formula 1 driver and forgot about your friends, huh?” 

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Don’t even.”

“Ready for some ballet?” Hugo smiled at the two men, who both just grimaced. 

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You started warming them up, learning quickly that while Lando was not flexible, Oscar was even worse. 

“And go down further if you can,” you instructed, pushing down on Oscar’s shoulders. 

“Bug, I can’t go any further,” he chuckled. 

“Bug?” Hugo questioned. 

“Childhood nickname,” you dismissed. “Don’t start using it.”

Hugo nodded, holding his hands up in surrender. “Noted.”

“Holy shit, you’re ‘Bug’?” Lando gasped. “He talks about you all the time!”

You chuckled as Oscar’s cheeks went a brilliant shade of pink. “Sure Lando, I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Alright!” Hugo announced. “Let’s start on some variations!”

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The boys watched in horror as you and Hugo danced around the room. Balcony Pas de deux, your favourite number of the entire show. You did everything perfectly, Hugo did everything perfectly, but when you two danced, sometimes there was something missing. You usually thought that it was just a lack of romantic chemistry because you were such great friends, or maybe it was something else. Lando and Oscar applauded as you two finished your piece, then you turned to them, smiling. 

“I have to lift him?!” Lando stressed. You laughed with Hugo. 

“No, you’ll be lifting me,” you explained. “Hugo’s going to teach you the moves and you’ll just need to lift me. You don’t even have to go on pointe. It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

The boys stayed unconvinced. You’d picked an easy enough professional routine and you were sure they'd get it eventually. You started with teaching them how to properly lift someone so they wouldn’t get hurt, and they wouldn’t drop you. Unsurprisingly, Oscar was very good at this, you remembered how Addie and you would force him to practice lifts with you in the confines of the Piastri family home, and shockingly, the muscle memory was still there after so many years. So, you moved onto teaching him the moves for the first 20ish seconds of the dance. And unsurprisingly, he was very good at the lifts, not so good at the dancing. He couldn’t get his back leg low enough, or he couldn’t extend his arm enough, but you barely noticed. You were having too much fun to notice. You realised you’d been missing fun when dancing with Hugo. Juliet was this spontaneous, youthful character who was full of love and a craving to be loved. Oscar brought out that fun side of you. He always had. You laughed and smiled as you both danced, laughing when he’d trip or almost drop you, but neither of you cared. You moved on and taught him up to about the one minute mark in the piece. There was a lot of repetition and not a lot of male dancing in the first 60 seconds, so he was practically in the clear, all he had to do was smile and lift you. And he did. There wasn’t a moment where either of you weren’t smiling. He looked a bit uncoordinated and you looked thousands of times better than him, but you two were both smiling like little kids. 

His hand slipped and he almost dropped you to the floor, concern and shock plastering itself on his face as he scrambled to catch you. “Shit, are you alright?” he asked, somehow catching you by pulling you to his chest. 

“I’m fine Osc, no bruised sternums here,” you chuckled. He laughed, reminded of a crash you had in karting as a child. 

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As the session came to a close, you did the first minute of the dance with Oscar and with Lando and determined that while Oscar was better at the lifts, Lando wasn’t half-bad either. 

“Alright everyone, thanks for tuning in and tell us if you want to see us attempt this again!” Lando smiled at the camera. 

“I have no idea how you do that every night,” Oscar sighed, clearly tired and out of breath. 

“Sometimes twice a night,” Hugo corrected. “And yes, it is tiring.”

“I don’t know how you sit in a boiling car going 300 kilometres per hour for ninety minutes every Sunday,” you smiled. 

“It is tiring,” he shrugged, smiling. “Do you want to grab lunch?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you nodded. “Let me just grab my stuff.”

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Catching up with Oscar felt great. You didn’t realise how much you two had in common. From movies, to books, and everything in between. You were even too busy laughing to hear Hugo call you to join him for the Vogue shoot. 

“Y/n!” He repeated, gathering others' attention. “Come on! We are being timed here!” 

“Coming!” you called back. “Sorry, I completely forgot about the time. Good luck in free practice today, please don't get yourself injured,” you said, pulling him into a hug. “Love you Osc!”

“Good luck!” He called after you. “Love you too Bug!” 

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“Childhood crush?” Hugo asked as you two relaxed after the shoot, exhausted after your day. 

“Nah, best friend’s brother,” you explained. 

“Oh, so even more of a rom com then,” he chuckled. 

You scoffed. “No. We’re friends, that’s it.”

“Friends? Friends don’t look at you like you’re the only person in the room, friends don’t somehow laugh their whole way through the first 60 seconds of  Balcony Pas de deux,  friends don’t make puppy dog eyes at you, and still call you by your childhood nickname!” He laughed. You groaned. 

“We’re not like that! He’s just… he’s intense with his eye contact-!”

“He wasn’t intense like that for me!”

“I don’t know what to tell you!” You finally gave up. “Come on! There’s no way he-”

“Bug?” Oscar popped his head in the door, sweaty and smiling. “How’d it go?”

“All good,” you nodded. “How did Free Practice go?” 

“Good,” he nodded, out of breath. “Went fastest in sector 2.”

“Very impressive!” Hugo smiled, pretending to know what that meant. You chuckled.

“I was wondering if you wanted to stay for the rest of the weekend,” Oscar offered. “Both of you, of course,” he gestured to you and Hugo. “I know you're busy but my mum would kill me if I didn't ask.”

You smiled. Someone else could cover Juliet for one weekend, right? “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“I’d better get back to Paris, but thank you for the kind offer,” Hugo smiled. 

“Cool,” Oscar smiled at the both of you. “Addie has offered her room if you want to share with her, but there’s also my apartment, if you want your own bed.”

“My own bed please, Addie kicks in her sleep,” you chuckled. “Thanks Osc.”

“No problem.”

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You said your goodbyes to Hugo and followed the Piastri’s around Monaco for the rest of the day. You saw some of the sights, but eventually ended up in some fancy dinner with good food and good people around you. You were laughing at anyone’s jokes, telling stories, and genuinely just enjoying yourself. Paris had many things, but it didn’t have the Piastri’s. Sometimes you wished you could just shrink them and put them in your pocket to have them with you at all times. 

“So, how’s Paris?” Oscar asked as the night died down. You two were on your way back to his apartment and you were a little bit wine-drunk, but neither of you cared. 

“It’s amazing, but it doesn’t have you guys,” you patted his shoulder. “I miss you guys like crazy.”

He smiled. “I miss you too.”

“How’s Monaco? It’s so funny that we’ve lived an hour plane ride away from each other and we still haven’t visited each other,” you chuckled. 

“Monaco’s nice,” he nodded. “But it doesn’t have you here.”

Suddenly you were a lot more sober than you were 5 seconds ago. “Well, I’m here right now.”

“Exactly,” he smiled. “It’s really good to see you Bug.”

“It’s good to see you too,” you smiled. “Beetle.”

He laughed as you brought up his old nickname. Most people resorted to calling him ‘Osc’ or ‘Ozzy’ now that he’d grown up. He thinks his mum stopped calling him ‘Beetle’ when she visited him at school or races because you weren’t around to be ‘Bug’. Neither of you remembered why it had started, but you and Oscar were Bug and Beetle. It probably would’ve made more sense to have Addie as Beetle, with how much time you two spent together, but in reality it was just both your mums’ collective hopeful thinking that your friendship would turn into something much more. It might’ve, if you’d both stuck around long enough to see it through. Some part of him wondered how his life would’ve turned out if he’d stayed. Not that he didn’t love his life, he did. He was everything he’d ever dreamed of (well, not a Gran Prix winner yet so, not everything), well, everything but one thing. He didn’t realise it at the time, but in every single one of his visualisations of his future that he did as a child (something about a winner’s mentality? He didn’t understand it at the time), he’d imagined you being there with him. He never explicitly said it, but you were either his girlfriend or wife, or something other than a friend. It had always been a certain to him. You were his Bug. He was your Beetle. It just worked. 

“What’re you thinking about?” you asked, leaning into him as the street lights illuminated his face. Since when was he so pretty? 

“Us as kids,” he smiled. “Remember trying to teach you karting?” 

“You mean bruising my sternum? Yes I remember the month of agony thank you very much,” you chuckled. “And I remember how stressed you were running over to me. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen you lose your cool.” 

“Well I was about as stressed then as I was today when I almost dropped you,” he laughed. 

“Well, you saved me this time,” you chuckled. “My knight in a shining papaya?”

He laughed. “Sounds about right.” 

As you two came up to his apartment building, your conversation died down. You two went up to his apartment and he gave you the grand tour, finally showing you your bed for the nights. You said your ‘goodnights’ and then a problem plagued you. It was just meant to be a day trip to Monaco, you were meant to fly back earlier, and now here you were in Monaco with just your dance bag. What was in your dance bag? Your various shoes, a multitude of toe pads and things to stop the pain, three different water bottles, and some random leotards and a skirt. 

“Osc?” you knocked on his door, hoping he wasn’t asleep already. 

“Yeah?” he came to the door, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Of course, classic Oscar, asleep in seconds. “Everything alright?” He yawned. 

No. Everything was very much not alright. He’d come to the door with no shirt on, and you really couldn’t focus on the problem at hand. “I have no clothes,” you blurted out. 

He immediately opened his eyes and stared at you, then his brain processed fully what you said. “Oh, no pyjamas,” he nodded. “Sorry, I thought you meant- I’m actually just going to stop myself now.”

You chuckled. “Probably best.” 

“Well I’ll give you a hoodie and some of my shorts?” he offered. “Just to sleep in, and then I can bring you to the shopping centre down the way. I think there’s a Zara there or something.” 

“You really don’t need to bring me, I’m sure I can find it on my own. I’m sure you’re busy tomorrow-”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head, handing over the clothes. “I have time for you.” 

“Thanks Osc.”

You went to sleep with significantly more to think about, so did he. 

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You woke up the next morning to the sound of a smoke alarm, a shouting Nicole, and a cursing Oscar. You quickly got up to witness the commotion. 

“Y/n! Thank God you’re here!” She groaned and turned to Oscar. “I cannot believe you live on your own, you’re 23 and you can’t make eggs without almost burning your building down?!” 

“It wasn;t my fault!” he defended. “You’re the one who came to the door!” 

Nicole rolled her eyes as the girls laughed, watching this all unfold. Addie came over and stood beside you, smiling brightly at you. 

“What?” you chuckled. 

“Nothing,” she smirked. “Nice hoodie.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “I had no other clothes,” you explained as the arguing continued. 

“Not a fan of sleeping in a leo?” she smirked. 

“Shockingly no, and also, we have to go shopping for clothes now, since all of mine are in Paris.” 

“Shopping! Yes!” Mae cheered. “Let’s go,” she said, immediately starting to drag you out of the apartment. 

“I’m not even dressed-!” Your complaints were met with nothing but more pulling.”Alright, alright! Let me grab my phone and my wallet, then I’ll be back out to you, yeah?” 

“Yay!” Mae cheered. 

You went back into your room, tried your best to make the hoodie and men’s shorts combo look good (it didn’t) and grab your things, then came back out. Oscar was cleaning up the kitchen as Hattie talked to him about the free practice and quali today, and Mae jumped up the moment she saw you. 

“Time to go!” she announced. “Bye Osc, good luck! See you at the track!” she called, already halfway out the door. 

You chuckled, following behind her, Addie, and Nicole. “Bye Osc!”

He grabbed ahold of your hand and placed a key in your palm. “In case you want to come back and change,” he smiled. 

“Thanks Osc,” you grinned. “Maybe leave the cooking to me tonight?”

“You don’t have to-”

“Osc, you’re letting me stay at your house, and you got me a paddock pass to see you. Let me make you dinner.” 

He nodded. “Alright. Thank you.”

His hand lingered for another few seconds before Mae called back to you, willing you to ‘come on!’. 

“See you later,” you smiled. 

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Shopping was fine, you bought some clothes and essential hygiene and makeup, then went back to Oscar’s apartment and got dressed just as FP3 started. You all rushed over to the track to watch, and it went well for Oscar, quali was probably going to be interesting, as per usual. Monaco was always a very special track and you really did enjoy looking around at the beautiful scenery. You noticed how the cameras followed you around, but you just put that down to being with his family. 

“Y/n! Can I get a photo?!” a young girl asked. You smiled and knelt down to be at her level. 

“Of course you can,” you smiled. “What’s your name?” 

“Carlotá,” she nodded. “I do ballet! I love you, you’re so good. I want to be as good as you one day!”

“Well I can’t wait to see you on stage one day! Maybe we’ll even get to dance together,” you chuckled, heart warmed by her enthusiasm. 

“I hope we do!” she smiled. 

You quickly got a photo with her and then you were back on your way to the McLaren hospitality with Addie talking your ear off about her new college courses as you listened intently. Suddenly, Oscar was in front of you, sweaty but smiley. 

Nicole immediately pulled him into a tight hug and you saw the weight lift off of her shoulders, if only for a short time. “All my kids are safe,” she sighed, and you knew you were a part of that. You’d always admired how much she cared and how deeply she cared about everyone in her life, it was incredible. Hattie hugged him next, then Addie, and lastly Mae. You smiled and gave him a pat on the back as Zak Brown ushered you further into the hospitality for a ‘family lunch’.

“So, I never knew Oscar had a girlfriend,” Zak smiled, turning to you.

Your face dropped. “Oh, um… he’s not my boyfriend. I’m just a family friend,” you explained. The air in the room had been sucked out and everything was a bit more awkward. 

“Oh gosh! Sorry, I just thought because of the video- I really need to remember to not just believe YouTube comments,” he chuckled. He’d somehow charmed his way out the awkward moment, and you found yourself laughing too. 

Oscar wasn’t laughing. He quite liked the idea that his boss thought you were his girlfriend. He was just as fond of the internet thinking you were his girlfriend. He’d made a devastating revelation last night. His mum had been right all those years when she told him that he’d end up with you. Well, not that you’d ended up together yet, he still had to do the ‘asking out’ part. Nicole watched as his frown deepened the more you laughed at the comments of the YouTube video of you teaching Lando and Oscar ballet with Hugo. 

“Wow, I think you might need to post something to tell everyone you’re just friends,” Zak laughed, showing you some more comments. 

You nodded. “I’ll post a baby picture or something,” You chuckled, turning to Oscar. “At least you’ve got the acting part of ballet down.”  

He smiled. “Exactly.”

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As the day progressed, you watched with bated breath as quali went underway, and Oscar qualified P2. You were ecstatic, jumping up and down with Addie and Nicole as Hattie and Mae cried in the back. All five of you had never been good with toning it down during his races. You just loved him so much, NOT like that, obviously. But in the friendly, totally platonic, family friend way. 

Nicole led the rest of you through the motorhome and you finally found him, sweaty and smiley once again. 

“Osc!” Nicole cheered, pulling him in for a hug. Addie, Hattei, and Mae all joined their hug, and you weren’t sure if it was right for you to join too, so you stayed back, taking a few photos of the five of them hugging. A part of you wanted to make it your wallpaper, but suddenly Oscar was in front of you. 

“Congratulations!” you smiled. 

“Y/n, I’m tired and I really don’t want to beg for a hug, please?” He smiled. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around his neck, his went around your waist, burying his face in your shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered. 

“Well done Osc,” you smiled. 

You didn’t catch the way Addie and Hattie smirked at each other, or the way Nicole gushed over the two of you, or the way Mae took a few photos of the two of you, immediately sending them to Oscar’s phone, knowing he’d want them. 

You pulled back, a bright smile on your face, then turned to the girls. “Alright, I’m making dinner tonight, you guys ready to go?”

“Oh, we have a booking at this restaurant tonight,” Nicole sighed. “Another time?” 

You nodded. “Of course, see you all later,” you smiled. 

If you’d looked slightly more to your left, you would’ve seen Oscar silently beg them to not intrude on the date you didn’t know was a date. Of course, being the Y/noscar shippers they were, they obliged with as minimal smirking as possible, which was a lot. You hugged them goodbye then turned to Oscar. 

“Alright, you go shower and then direct me to the nearest supermarket!” You instructed and he smiled. 

“Sir, yessir,” he joked, saluting you. “You can wait in my driver’s room if you want.”

“Sounds good.” 

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Your evening was wonderful, you spent the evening walking around Monaco and grabbing supplies for dinner, then the actual cooking was rather enjoyable (aka you cooked your famous chilli and he sat in the corner, chatting away to you) and finally, cozying up on the couch with your favourite childhood movie, Cars. Well, it was his favourite, yours was Ballerina. Anyways, as the film continued on, you found yourselves getting closer and closer to each other. First it was an arm around the back of the couch, then an arm around you, then you were leaning into his side, until you had your head on his chest and he had a satisfied smile on his face. 

As the film came to a close, you got up and stretched, yawning. 

“Y/n,” he spoke. “I’ve really enjoyed having you around these past few days,” he smiled. 

“I’ve really enjoyed being around you,” you smiled back. 

“I’m in love with you,” he blurted out. It wasn’t exactly the smooth delivery he’d imagined since he was a teenage boy stalking your instagram from thousands of kilometres away, but it would work. Hopefully. 

“Pardon?” You stared at him shocked. 

He let out a nervous breath. “I’m in love with you.”

You nodded. You didn’t exactly know what to make of it all. You loved him too, so why wouldn’t your mouth make the words? This was so stupid, just say it! Say it! Say-“I love you too,” you finally blurted out after a few seconds of buffering. 

His nervous frown turned into a bright smile, and his hands landed on your waist, pulling you into him. He hugged you close for a moment, internally calming down. “Kept me waiting there,” he chuckled.

“Sorry,” you smiled. You pulled away a little bit, then pressed your lips to his. “Brain fart.”

He laughed, then pressed his lips to yours again, in a perfect, Oscar, kiss. You could feel his hands on your waist, every brush of his brush against your forehead, every piece of skin on yours. You couldn’t get enough. 

“You have a race in the morning,” you whispered, pulling back from the kiss just enough to remind him. 

He nodded, connecting your lips again. His kisses were getting more and more heated, more and more consuming, more and more hungry. He was barely listening. He was kissing you. Everything little him had dreamt of. 

“Oscar,” you pulled back, getting serious. “Wait until after the race, alright?” 

He nodded, pressing his lips to your again, this time quicker and softer. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” you smiled. “I would want to too, just… I don’t want to impair you’re-” you awkwardly tried to explain as he tried to hold back laughter. He failed and ended up laughing in your face, only making you laugh too. 

“God I love you,” he smiled bashfully. 

“I love you too.” 

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The next morning, you woke up to Oscar beside you, his arms wrapped around you. You smiled. This felt right. He felt right.

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You walked into the paddock hand in hand and Nicole immediately gasped. “You’re finally together?!” 

You laughed. “Yeah, we are,” you nodded. The four of them were a mix of cheering and crying, all ecstatic for you both. 

“If you hurt her I’ll kill you!” Addie warned, pointing a finger in Oscar’s face. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he smiled, looking at you. 

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You watched in awe as he crossed the finish line in P2, celebrating with his sisters and mum. You all ran to the Parc Fermé, ready to greet him. He ran over to you five, hugging his mum first, then running straight to you. He smiled then pulled you in for a kiss. 

“Congratulations,” you smiled, pulling back. 

“I have to watch you dance now,” he rushed out as Addie pulled him over for a hug. “I love you!” He shouted, being pulled away by Lando, knowing they were on a time crunch.

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2,830,623 likes liked by landonorris, y/nballet, and others oscarpiastri Bagged myself a dancer, and a second place trophy. Great weekend :)

comments

user83: WHAT THE FUCK MY WORLDS COLLIDING

user73: BRO HAS ULTIMATE RIZZ -> Hattiepiastri: INCORRECT BUZZER, they've been in love with each other since they could walk, they just didn't know it yet.

nicolepiastri: My babies  ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

landonorris: NOW HE'LL STOP THIRSTING -> oscarpiastri: polly not...

y/nballet: my love  ❤️

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7,830,725 likes liked by oscarpiastri, hugomarchand, nicole piastri and others

y/nballet: Bagged myself an Osc :)

oscarpiastri: I love you  ❤️ -> y/nballet: No papaya heart? -> oscarpiastri: shut up please.

user73: WHAT IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS??? -> user26: they've been friends forever and now they're dating :)

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[monzabee]

pon de replay - cl16 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 

Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.

So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.

It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.

“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.

“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.

“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”

If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”

Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.

He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”

That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.

“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.

Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.

“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.

So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”

His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”

If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.

And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”

This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.

“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”

“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.

And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”

Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”

“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”

“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”

And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.

So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”

You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.

“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.

He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”

“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”

“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.

Or so you’ve thought.

Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”

“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”

You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”

That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.

“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   

“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.

“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.

So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”

“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”

“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”

“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.

That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”

And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.

[starry-nights-garden]

Ateez Reaction ✧ When they weren't your first bias

✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: fluff, humor ✧ warnings: none

Hongjoong:

the nr 1 overly attached jealous bf in front of atiny so obviously he has to play his part when he finds out that you originally biased Seonghwa

makes you wish he had never found out tbh jdbdjxjjd

but you just can't deny it when he finds your old stash of Seonghwa photocards

"I'm not upset, it's fine. People's tastes can change." - says that while sounding VERY upset

will leave it at that for now but will get a giggle out of reminding you of this in the most unexpected moments

gives you a gift that you don't react to super enthusiastically: "Well, it doesn’t have Seonghwa’s face on it, so I get that you don't like it."

you don't hug him back once because you're distracted by something else: "Well, I'm not Seonghwa, so I get it."

you don’t pick up his call because you weren’t looking at your phone: “You’d have picked up if it was Seonghwa, right?”

will he ever stop? nobody knows

at this point you can’t even tell whether he’s just messing with you or if he’s actually still petty about it kasdjöfklas

Seonghwa:

his pride is definitely hurt when one day you mention to him that you used to be a Yeosang stan

“What do you mean? Like… I wasn’t your first bias?”

you try to brush it off by telling him people’s tastes change, it’s really not that deep

well, it is that deep to him kasdljföas

“Like… you liked someone else before me? It wasn’t love at first sight??”

turns out he always thought he was your first bias and now you just shattered his entire worldview ksdjfkal

needs to know exactly why you liked him, in as much detail as possible, so he can do better!!

thinks this is some kind of competition, even though your little celebrity crush on Yeosang is long over ksadjflkas

actually it’s quite charming and definitely entertaining to see him making such an effort, so you decide to watch for a while before starting another attempt at reassuring him that he’s just perfect the way he is in your eyes, and he can stop comparing himself with his team member now :’)

Yunho:

deliberately startles you by sneaking up to you from behind when he catches you watching a Mingi fancam

“Oh? What’s that?”

softly laughs at you when you instinctively hide your phone screen jasklfjösadk

but then you also scold him for surprising you like that

he’s quick to apologize and sits down next to you, already having figured out what’s going on

“Was your first bias Mingi?” - you can’t but admit to it

but Yunho just acknowledges it with a nod - he knows you like him best now and he doesn’t mind that you used to like someone else

“So your type are tall guys?” he questions and then laughs about it

yeah, this one’s just completely chill about it, really he sees no reason why he would be upset about something like this

Yeosang:

barely even reacts when you tell him that your first bias was Jongho

"Ah." - simply shrugs it off??

so you go on with your conversation which eventually drifts off to a different topic

you're thankful that he doesn't really mind or seem jealous

you'd go as far as to say you're glad you have such a mature boyfriend!!

... until you're about to walk away to go do something else and you hear him mutter something under his breath

"I'm much better than him anyway."

???

so you turn around and say "what" and he's fully ready to explain lol

"Well, first of all I'm more handsome than him. I'm also much nicer to you. Also I personally think I'm a better dancer."

gives you a full list of reasons why he’s better than him that sounds a little too much like he had prepared it in advance jcjdjxjx

San:

“Wow, Y/N, I expected better from you!!”

ngl you’re scared to death when you hear him yelling that from the other room, but once you find him holding up all your Wooyoung merch the tension leaves your body at once

obviously the first thing that comes to mind is asking him whether he’s jealous that you used to bias his best friend aksdjflkas

“I mean- You never even told me about this!!”

you try to calm him down by telling him it was just a phase, San is now your nr 1, etcetc, but he just won’t let it be

“No, I mean… how can you keep these when you’re dating me now…” his voice just gets smaller and smaller sakdfjlas

poor bby is actually upset about this, so you resort to the only thing you can imagine would work to calm him down

you take the merch away from him and give him a big hug, letting him rest his head against your shoulder

he pouts at you and makes you kiss him as reassurance, because he is obviously jealous, but also he would never admit that out loud laskdjfka

tries to act like nothing happened after getting all the cuddles he needs to feel better about it lol

Mingi:

it’s when you’re cleaning your apartment together that you stumble upon all of your Yunho merch and you immediately feel guilty about keeping it a secret from him

you figured he might be hurt over it, and though you were looking for a good time to tell him about it, that moment just never came

“Ah, right… I used to be Yunho biased actually…” you briefly explain and try to laugh it off

“Yeah, I knew about that.” - his unbothered reaction catches you off guard, so you ask if he’s not upset

“Why would I be upset? He’s my bias too!” 

?????????

ends up looking through your collection with you and you swear he has heart eyes a few too many times aksdfjökas

so all’s well that ends well, right? wrong.

because several days later he will wake you up in the middle of the night and confess that maybe he is a little jealous after all…

needs you to reassure him that you’re nothing more than Yunho’s fan, and Mingi is the one you love the most now!!

Wooyoung:

"What do you mean, you liked Hongjoong??"

you can tell it never even crossed this guy's mind that you could've ever biased someone other than him lol

when it eventually finished sinking in and he stops perplexedly staring at you he just??? pats you on the back??

"Aaaaa, you did well choosing me over him!"

pats your head now??

"I'm actually much better than that guy, you know!!"

gives you a full on speech about how awesome he is and explains to you in detail how basically you'd be doomed if you dated Hongjoong lol

"I mean, he's a great guy! Don't get me wrong! But taking care of you? I mean, come on. You know you can always rely on me, but him??"

expects you to praise him and tell him he's right at the end of it

WILL complain if you don't do that, and the only way to console him is you stroking his ego a bit and lots of kisses :')

Jongho:

when one day you casually mention to him that you used to bias San, you can literally see his brain trying to process that fact

starts sulking???

acts like he's super upset and lowkey complains while just pouting about it

you know he's acting but what you don't know is whether he's just acting or if he's also a little upset (he's VERY upset)

he's also so so embarrassed that he's this upset about something so stupid, so obviously he has to do his utmost to confuse you so you wouldn’t notice his inner turmoil djbdbd

he'll eventually get over it, but the initial shock runs deep lol

will definitely tease you about it at some point or use it as a way to win an argument jdbdhhd

"Oh, would you have been upset about that if it was San too?"

and well, now you're angry, so he's quick to make it clear that he was just joking and will definitely make it up to you with a kiss

[dantakeyoman]

I would reallyy love if you could write about how when the Sully family reaches the new tribe all of the Metkayina girls are trying really hard to get Neteyam to notice them (Cause you know he's the oldest, a good warrior and is gonna be a leader soon) but they dont know he already has a mate and the reader gets jealous. So neteyam has to comfort her and when she realizes she is being silly and has nothing to worry about...this one metkayina girl really pushes it....(im talking getting touchy with neteyam, always finding ways to get him alone and is rude to the reader) and she loses her absolute shit and you can decide what she does but i want it to be very possessive like behavior😏 sorry this is long😅

Metkayina Girls Start Falling At Neteyam's Feet and You, His Mate, Get Jealous (SFW)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: a story of jealousy with aa twist, these girls are really shameless, Kiri and Lo'ak duo, sorry im posting so late, my stomach actually really hurts rn, but not writing for so long has been driving me crazy, anyway, enjoy <3 ( i barfed in my mouth a little bit writing some of this cringey shit )

"Humans?! That must've been so scary for you! What happened next?" Leyelu asked as she stretched, laying herself stomach-down in the sand in front of Neteyam, batting her eyelashes.

"Yeah, did you fight them? I'm sure you did, since you are such a strong warrior," Nayat smiled, scooching her seat closer to the boy.

"Um...well, I didn't-." "Impossible. I can imagine you swooping in and saving your family. All heroic-like," Srraza smirked, openly raking her eyes up and down Neteyam's body, not caring how uncomfortable he looked.

Their shameless display made you want to vomit, and possibly scream, at the same time.

There were a total of three girls. Leyelu, Nayat, and Srraza. And all were practically throwing themselves at Neteyam.

It had been about a week and some change since you and the Sullys arrived at Awa'atlu. And every day, without fail, these girls managed to tail Neteyam, following him and showering him in praise whenever they could.

You hadn't had not two seconds alone with him before one of them, or all three, came barging in with some fake excuse of a heavy basket they needed help lifting or a boat they needed help loading.

You knew Neteyam never entertained their advances, and were thankful for it.

But being his mate, you couldn't help but feel frustrated. (and maybe a little jealous)

"If you scowl any harder, it's going to become permanent," Kiri playfully warned, your face amusing her.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," you curtly answered, tearing your eyes away from the scene angrily.

"Yes. I'm fine is stretched tightly across your face right now," Lo'ak smirked from his spot in the sand, hands behind his head as he subathed.

"(y/n), I hope you know that Neteyam would never-." "I know," you sighed, already guessing what Kiri was going to say.

"I trust Neteyam completely. It's just-."

You couldn't finish the sentence. It was embarrassing.

"Just what?" Lo'ak asked, ears perking in intrigue.

"Give her a minute," Kiri shushed, smacking him in the arm, earning an annoyed ow! from the boy.

"It's not that I'm scared Neteyam will leave me. It is just...I don't see why he won't," you started, staring down at your feet in shame.

Kiri and Lo'ak both whipped their heads towards you in disbelief, their expressions contorting into ones of confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lo'ak asked, confused.

"Lo'ak!" Kiri scolded.

She was thinking the same thing, but he could've been a little easier on the delivery.

"Look at them," you sighed, holding out your hand to the girls, who were still fake listening to Neteyam's story.

"Leyelu's father is one of the best hunters in the clan, only second to Tonowari. Nayat's mother is incredibly skilled on the loom, who is now teaching Nayat everthing she knows. For Eywa's sake, Srraza is studying under Ronal to be a healer."

The brother ans sister's expressions slowly softened, the meaning behind your words now coming to light.

"You are the best dancer the Omaticaya have ever seen. And the best the Metkayina have seen, as well," Kiri tried to comfort, a warm smile on her face.

"Oh, yes, because dancing can help me hunt for food. And dancing can help me make clothes. Let's not forget, it can help me heal as well," you sarcastically agreed, snippy.

Kiri sighed.

She didn't take it to heart, not one bit. She understood your frustration.

"They all have spent their years learning skills that can be of use, be important. All I have to show for mine are a couple of dance moves."

Lo'ak looked like he wanted to say something, but decided against it until you were finished.

"And the best part of it is they are all gorgeous, the most sought after girls in this village. And I'm just...me."

Kiri felt her heart ache.

She had no idea you had been feeling this way this whole time.

She thought it was just a small case of jealousy. But it seemed to be much deeper than that.

"So, no. I'm not frustrated or scared of Neteyam leaving me. I am frustrated and scared because he has every reason to."

You turned back to the scene, only to see Leyelu resting her hands on Neteyam's chest, leaning into his face.

"Hey, Neteyam. Have you ever given thought to who could possibly be your mate?" she asked with a smirk, peering up at him through her beautiful eyelashes.

It was as if you didn't even exist.

"(y/n), wai-." But you ignored Kiri, abruptly standing up, not wanting to watch the scene any longer.

"Dammit, (y/n)! Sit down and look," Lo'ak groaned, roughly pulling you back down and turning your face to watch Neteyam.

"Do not touch me," Neteyam sternly ordered, grabbing the girl's wrists and pulling her hands of him, harshly.

"I know that you know I already have a mate. And you trying to make advances on me while knowing that is incredibly disrespectful."

The girls were giving him puppy dog eyes, as if that would guilt him into stopping.

It made you gag.

"I do not appreciate how you've been disregarding (y/n) this entire week. Especially when she has done nothing to you."

"That's exactly the point. She does nothing. She is just there with you. You two do not even act like mates," Srraza scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"That is true. I never see you two hug, or kiss, or embrace each other romantically at all," Nayat agreed.

"Because any time I get alone with her is interrupted by you three!" Neteyam exclaimed, annoyed.

His sudden burst shocked you.

You didn't know he felt this.

"I only get time to myself every once in a while, and I like to spend it with (y/n). But ever since I've gotten here, you three have used every mean under the sun to keep that from happening. For Eywa's sake, that was what I was on my way to do now before you all came along!"

"But why? She doesn't hunt, she doesn't loom, she doesn't heal, she can't even carry a tune. She's boring, plain. Why would you willingly want to spend time with her?" Leyelu asked, cocking an eyebrow s she crossed her arms.

Ouch.

"That's why you look like a dead fish, bitch!" Lo'ak loudly called, making you and Kiri die in snickers.

The girl whipped around, glaring daggers at the boy.

"Lo'ak!" Kiri tried to scold, but couldn't through her laughter.

"It's true! If her eyes were any farther apart, she'd be able to see the back of her head," he huffed.

You were his friend. And he didn't like people talking shit about you.

Meanwhile, Neteyam was using every ounce of his strength to not bare his teeth at the girl.

"I don't care about what she can't do. I love what she can. She's a phenomenal dancer, and has forgotten more moves than you three will ever learn. She's funny, she's kind, she's caring, the farthest thing from boring. And her beauty makes the three of you look like a patch wet sand. I am lucky to call her my mate, and if you all would excuse me, I'm going to spend the rest of the day with her," Neteyam angrily corrected, pushing past them and walking towards you.

And as he drew closer, you smiled, wider than you had in a while.

You felt foolish for thinking he could do better than you.

Especially after he just confessed that he believed he could do no better than you.

It made you feel happy, and loved, and secure in your relationship.

There was no one that could take your place because you were the place, and the only one who could ever be it.

And now knowing that fact, sent you over the moon.

…

taglist !!

@vane28282, @remutoast, @p1nkprint, @ladyorchidia, @anthonys-viscountess, @karmz-7319, @cantbuysophialove, @scarabruhs, @an0th3rsss, @deloe18, @mariiyoushi, @av1xar, @alexxcorona113, @may-and-lay, @overlyfancybreakfastfoods, @harshita-hiranyamayi, @qui-02, @myheartfollower, @morks-watermelon, @bangtanxberm, @adavenus, @sweetdayme4427, @lilac13, @torchbearerkyle, @dazedshoon, @rovckwell, @wonieee, @0710khj, @multifandomreader73, @kadu-5607, @la-cey, @roseazura, @sophiejiro, @angelbeari, @bludyl

[fandomnerd9602]

Wedding Daze (Pt. 1)

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Why did you and Wanda agree to a one week engagement period? The planning. The venue. The cakes. You could laugh or you could cry.

Luckily all of your friends and family were close by anyway. So it wasn’t a problem with travel or time for you and your amazing doe Wanda.

You and Wanda spent the days leading up to your nuptials finalizing everything. Natasha, your wolf hybrid pal, took the maid of honor duty extremely serious. Well except she also had recently spent a lot of time with your future in law Pietro.

The wedding was less than three days away. You had just finalized a deal with a charity, a media marketing push with Tony, and then picked up the cake with the boys.

You were about to go into your office when Pietro ran up and took a hold of you.

“Listen bratok,” he said so slick and cool, “tonight is the infamous ritual for both parties.”

“The bachelor/bachelorette parties? Piet no stag clubs!”

“Done,” he huffed, “Nattie told me I couldn’t do that. Besides it’s just you, me and the boys”

Billy and Tommy came running up to you excited as could be. “Guys night!!!” They shouted excitedly.

You gave a chuckle and shake of your head.

What you didn’t notice was Wanda, peering out of her own office. She loved that the guys in her life got along so well. And then Natasha came running up and took a hold of her, “come on bride to be”

“Where are we going?”

“To a little night on the town for just us!” The wolf pal responded before letting out a playful little howl.

Wanda, Natasha and Yelena went out to a local karaoke bar. Yelena brought her best friend and Labrador hybrid Kate Bishop with her. Wanda found herself having a blast. Singing along to old karaoke songs and getting a little drunk with friends old and new was amazing to her.

“You have no idea how free I feel right now!” Wanda giggles as she settles down in a booth with her gal pals.

“I think we got an idea, Bambi” Natasha giggles, taking another sip of her drink.

“I think we all know how Natasha feels free” Yelena giggles.

“Shut up, sestra!” Natasha retorts.

“What are Wanda and I missing here?” Kate asks with a drunken giggle.

Yelena smirks, “I saw Pietro sneaking out of her den the last few nights”

Wanda shrieks a little, maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that her best friend was hooking up with her brother.

“What?! Are you kidding me?!” Wanda asks, lightly punching her wolf pal in the arm.

“He treats me right” Natasha gives a little wink.

“Trust me. I can tell” Yelena snorts.

Meanwhile across town, you and Pietro decided to have your stag party at the local bowling alley. Billy and Tommy were having a blast.

“I would’ve hired you a dancer,” Pietro admits, “but you got kids now”

“I’d rather go bowling with you and my boys anyway” you smile.

“Your boys.” Pietro smiles, “I like the sound of that.” He takes a sip of his drink, “thank you for being their poppa”

You give your boys a kiss on their antlers, “that’s my privilege.”

Pietro chuckles, “Wanda chose well”

You give your brother in law a gentle smile. Yeah you considered yourself so blessed that out of all the people in the entire world, Wanda chose you.

The night was beginning to wind down as you got Pietro back to his condo on the sanctuary grounds and got the boys to bed in the comfort of your home.

You couldn’t help but think that in less than twenty four hours you’d be marrying the doe of your dreams. The one who gave you strength to keep going as much as you encouraged her to do the same. Where was your doe anyway?

Your question was answered a second later as you heard your door open. Natasha carried a tipsy Wanda in.

“Your princess awaits you,” Natasha gave you a slurred smile.

“Princess? I’m a queen” Wanda giggles as she falls into your arms.

“Yes you are” you kiss the top of her head, “need a place to stay, Nat?”

“Nope. Kate’s our designated driver”

You look outside and see Kate waving to you and Wanda. Yelena stands next to her, offering you a salute.

“Thanks Nat” you hug your wolf bestie before helping to guide Wanda to your bedroom.

Wanda giggles as she passes her old room, “we’ll have to redecorate that one of these days”

“Why’d that?”

“Cause some day I wanna little teeny baby girl” she slurs her words a little. You let out a little laugh.

You lay Wanda gently down on your bed and grab a couple bottles of water for her. You give her a kiss to the forehead.

“Good night, my doe”

“Good night my buck” she mumbles back. “Until tomorrow”

And with that you grab your pillow and head to the couch.

Tomorrow. You couldn’t help but smile. Tomorrow couldn’t get here fast enough.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @idkwhatever580 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @aloneodi @multi-fandom-enjoyer @russianredassassin @revanshand @texaswolf23

[bookyeom]

pairing: dino x reader word count: 3.8k warnings: swearing, alcohol, kissing and the barest of suggestive content (it’s hardly there, but it’s insinuated) 

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.

false alarm by matoma, becky hill

i heard sirens in my head  from the first time that we met thought it was a false alarm  yeah, we started as a spark didn’t think we’d come this far but here we are

now I’m burning in your arms  endless fire in my heart  no, it’s not a false alarm

A/N: Happy Birthday to our Makdoongie!!

*****

Everything is currently a bit of a blur, but a pleasant one. 

You’re sufficiently buzzed, the thumping of the bass vibrating through you as you wait in line at the bar. You sway contentedly to the beat as you manage to slide onto an empty barstool, waiting as the song changes to see what the new vibe is. You’ve just opened your mouth to order from the frenzied bartender when you register the first few beats of Bruno Mars’ Finesse, and you squeal. You stand up abruptly, nearly falling off the barstool as you do so, and whirl around to face the crowd.

You push yourself up onto your tippy toes, eyes scanning the room frantically. You’re on a mission now. Everyone and everything is a blur in the dim light of the club, fading into the background until you find exactly who you’re looking for. He’s already looking back at you, both hands in the air as he points in your direction. He’s too far, and the music is so loud that you can’t hear him, but you know he’s shouting your name. 

You push through the crowd towards him, one half-finished drink order and a confused bartender forgotten behind you, your own hands raised in the air as you whoop and holler. You’re practically vibrating with excitement as he weaves through the huddle to meet you halfway, and when you meet in the middle, you’re absolutely euphoric. 

You both immediately drop it down. 

You’re not a bad dancer, and Chan is far from it. You’re sure that the two of you are being stared at as you take over the floor, fake twerking and throwing your hands in the air. The movements are absolutely ridiculous but you’re hitting the beat, feeling the music — honestly, you’re absolutely killing it. All you can see, all you care about, is Lee Chan next to you with his head thrown back, laughing and having the time of his life. You can just barely hear his laugh over the pounding of the bass, but you know the sound of it by heart, anyway. You’re beaming, inhibitions thrown to the wind as you find your rhythm with him right there beside you. 

You never feel as happy as when you’re with him. 

This is something that you’ve come to acknowledge as truth. It’s also something you don’t allow yourself to dwell on — because the implications of what it means is terrifying.

The song has just reached Cardi’s rap part when you catch Chan mouthing something, and your eyebrows raise in question. He tries again, and you shake your head. I can’t hear you, you try and mouth back, gesturing, and his mouth forms an ‘o’ in understanding. Then he’s leaning down, lips by the shell of your ear. 

“This song is the best,” he yells, a hand finding your hip to keep you steady as you’re jostled by the ever-moving crowd, and you nod, turning your head to reply. 

“It’s our song!” You yell back, and he pulls away just enough to grin down at you, nodding furtively in agreement. His hand is warm where it’s still settled on your waist. 

You think time stills for a second when your eyes meet. His gaze is unwavering as he beams, and you can’t help but feel like the only other person in the room when he looks at you like this. 

Shit, he’s beautiful. 

It’s not the first time the thought has hit you without warning. You’d blame it on the alcohol if it wasn’t something you catch yourself thinking almost every single day now — that he’s beautiful, your friend Chan. That he’s beautiful and warm, and all things good, and that he’s one of the best things to ever happen to you. 

He still hasn’t let go of you when the song changes, but the moment between you ends so quickly that you wonder if it even happened at all. You hear the opening notes of J.Lo’s On The Floor and Chan cheers again, his hand slipping from your waist to find your fingers. He moves to twirl you and you oblige, letting him spin you out and back in. You belatedly realize what a poor decision you’ve made when you end up with your back flush against his chest, bodies pressed tight together. His arm is snug across your chest, holding you to him as he sings the lyrics into your ear, swaying you dramatically to the opening lines. You think it can’t get any worse — and then the beat drops. 

You are wholly unprepared for the way Chan begins to move against you. Both of his hands drop to settle on your waist as he begins to move his hips back and forth to the music, and your breath catches as your eyes flutter shut. 

Shit.

There’s a reason you never dance seriously with Chan, and it’s because you know the damage he can cause. You’ve seen him dance, seen him do it all from hip hop to contemporary, and you just knew that his body could move against yours in ways that would make you blush. 

You were right.  

Don’t panic. Don’t make it weird.

You’re grateful for the drinks you’ve downed because with the liquid courage, you somehow manage to swallow your nerves and allow your friend to guide your body along with his as he dances. Your head falls back against his shoulder and your fingers reach up, searching for his hair, his neck, anything that will help anchor you to him. He responds by pulling you even closer, his breath warm in the space between your neck and shoulder. You can feel him everywhere, can feel his body pressed against yours, can feel your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. But you don’t hesitate, don’t let yourself think, don’t question anything. You just let yourself feel it all.

Until he abruptly comes to a halt, the song not even halfway through, and brings you to a stop with him. 

It feels like you’re moving in slow motion as he turns you to face him. Gone is silly, giggly Chan, and in his place stands serious, pensive Chan, staring down at you like he’s trying to figure something out. He’s so close, your hand falling to rest on his chest as the two of you remain frozen in the middle of the dance floor. You have absolutely no idea what to think, or say, or do, as his eyes wander across your face in the haze of the flashing lights. You’re not sure how long it takes but he decides what to do for you both, taking your hand and pulling you towards the exit. You hold on for dear life, not daring to let him go. 

As soon as you step into the cool of the night air, Chan turns around, backing you up gently against the wall of the building. You’re sure you’ve been floating for the last ten minutes. You can’t see or hear or think about anything or anyone but him, and how gorgeous he looks in front of you, hair messy from dancing, cheeks flushed. His hands find your face, his forehead falling to rest against yours, and it’s all you can do to just breathe. He’s so close, and all you can think about is how you want him even closer. You swear you can hear his heartbeat — or is it yours? You’re not sure. You’re in a daze, because of the alcohol and because of him, and you’re desperate for him to do something. Anything.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low. “Do you want to—”

“Yes,” you cut him off almost immediately. He inhales a sharp breath at your hasty response, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments, and you wait. Then he’s taking your hand again, pulling you to the curb, and hailing a cab. 

You don’t let go of each other’s hand the entire way back to his apartment.

You’ve been in Chan’s apartment many times. This shouldn’t be new.

But it is, because his hand is in yours as he pulls you through the threshold, and then his hand is finding the middle of your back to pull you in, and then he’s backing you up against his front door.

You don’t think you’ve ever held your breath this long. You feel fuzzy, untethered, a little bit insane as he looks at you. You don’t think he’s breathing, either. His free hand finds your face, and his thumb is brushing your jaw, and you wish you knew what was the right thing to do.

You know what you want to do, you just don’t know if you should.

“Y/N?” 

When he says your name, you let out a breath. “Yeah?”

His eyes search yours, and you can tell he’s struggling, too. “Do you… Um, do you want to shower?” 

You almost laugh, because that was not what you were expecting him to say, but you suppose he’s right. This was probably a terrible, awful, horrible, no-good bad idea. That doesn’t stop your heart from sinking, though.

You nod and he takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. You try to clear your thoughts, try to calm your racing heart as you follow him to the bathroom. He doesn’t say anything else, just hands you a clean towel from the cupboard with a soft smile. You thank him quietly, and the door is almost shut behind you when he says your name.

“Y/N?”

You turn, embarrassingly quickly. “Yeah?”

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out for a moment. Then he tugs on the towel in your hands, pulling you closer and nearly causing you to stumble. His forefinger and thumb catch your chin, holding you steady as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

You don’t remember much of your shower after that. You’re in a daze, hot water streaming down your face, when you hear a soft knock and you jump a little.

“Yeah?”

Chan's voice sounds softly through the door. “I just put some clean clothes on the floor outside, okay?”

When you get out, you take your time drying off, trying desperately to wrap your head around what’s happening. You pull on the t-shirt and shorts he’d left you, taking a deep breath before heading out and into his room. You don’t miss the way Chan’s eyes widen as you enter the room, the way his eyes give you a onceover, or the way his fingers brush yours as he passes you on the way to get a shower of his own.

The air is tense when he re-enters. You’ve already crawled under his sheets — which, again, should be nothing new. What’s new is the way he hesitates, his eyes meeting yours as he towel dries his hair. 

“You can get in with me,” you say softly after a moment of quiet, and he nods. He seems to hesitate for a moment anyway, hand lifting to run through his damp hair. Then he’s climbing in next to you, and you can feel your heartbeat roaring in your ears as his warmth joins you under the covers. 

Are you allowed to touch him? Are you allowed to want to? 

You decide that there’s no going back now. He’d kissed you first — it’s your turn. 

You inhale a breath, and then you’re rolling onto your side to face him. He looks at you in surprise, and it gives you some sense of relief to find that he looks just as nervous as you feel. Before you can lose your nerve, you close the space between you, your head finding his bicep as you curl up into his side. You can feel it as he lets out a breath before he relaxes next to you, his arm sliding under your shoulders, and you goosebumps erupt across your skin. You move to wrap an arm around his waist. You can hear Chan let out a quiet laugh when you do, and you look up at him with a smile. He raises his eyebrows, almost as though you’ve challenged him to something, and then he’s pulling you in and turning his body into yours so that he can tangle your legs together.

Alright, you think as you roll your eyes at him fondly, you win this time, Lee Chan.

The two of you stay like that for a while. Your head is clearing itself of alcohol more and more as the moments pass, and everywhere he’s touching you has your head spinning for an entirely different reason now. His hand has found the space where his shirt has ridden up on your waist, just above your shorts, and he’s begun to trace gentle circles against your hip.

“Chan?”

You break the silence. He hums from his place beside you, fingers stilling.

“Yeah?” His voice is just above a whisper, hushed in this sacred space between you. Like he doesn’t want to break whatever bubble you’re currently trapped in. You don’t blame him. 

“I’m not imagining what’s happening here, right?” You finally say, and you can feel his body tense up. Your voice is quiet — you’re just as terrified as he is.

After a moment, Chan moves his arm from under you and props himself up on his elbow so he can look down at you. His other hand finds your thigh, and he squeezes gently as he responds. “No. You’re not.” 

You pause, biting down on your bottom lip, and Chan’s gaze follows the movement. Then you admit, as soft as ever, “I’m not really drunk anymore.”

“Neither am I.”

There it is. 

For a moment, all you can hear is the background hum of Chan’s air conditioner and the beating of your heart in your own ears.

“So…”

“I’m pretty sober now, and I know exactly what’s happening,” he says, trailing off before adding quietly, “and I’m okay with it. I’m more than okay with it, actually.”

Oh.

“Me too,” you murmur, and then he’s smiling, his gaze on you so soft and warm that you almost want to look away for fear of melting under the affection of it. You don’t.

“Long time coming,” he says, and if your heart wasn’t skipping beats yet, it is now. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “Way too long.”

He smiles, head falling back to the pillow. It’s quiet for a moment as you just look at one another. 

“Please let me kiss you again,” he says after a pause, voice even softer than before, and you feel your entire body alight with electricity.

“Absolutely, yes.”

The wide smile you’re rewarded with is worth its weight in gold. The hand on your hip slips around to the middle of your back and he pulls you in, your arms wrapping around his neck as he finally, finally presses his mouth to yours. Once, twice, three times; he kisses you, deep and warm and slow, and you can feel it all the way down to your toes. 

You can’t help but chase his mouth as he pulls away, which feels embarrassing until you’re rewarded with the sound of a soft, breathy laugh full of pure joy from his lips. His nose brushes against yours, foreheads pressed together as you both catch your breath. 

“Why’d you stop?”

The laugh you receive this time is loud. It’s one of your favourite laughs; it’s the one that comes out when he can’t hold back just how happy he is. 

He doesn’t waste any more time. His lips meet yours, and you find yourself on your back again as he kisses you breathless. You find yourself taking mental notes and pictures of it all, just in case. You want to remember how he kisses just like you always imagined he would, soft and slow; how his hands are gentle in their wandering, just like you always knew they would be; how his mouth moves languidly against yours as his hand finds the side of your jaw. Tender, and as warm as the sun.

You don’t know what this means for the two of you, but you don’t think you ever want to forget how it feels.

When you break apart again, you can’t place exactly how you’re feeling. You feel shy, and nervous, and excited, and a million other things all at once. His eyes lazily wander across your face, thumb brushing your jaw.

Minutes pass. He doesn’t look away, so you don’t, either. 

You both know that there’s so much more that needs to be said, but you’re terrified to let anything ruin whatever is going on right now, so you don’t say any of it. Neither does he. Instead, you let yourself relish the feeling of his thumb against your cheek, let him look at you, let him lean down and kiss you one more time. His fingers are warm against your skin where they’ve slipped under your — his — shirt, and you hum against his mouth as he squeezes your waist gently.

“I think kissing is all I want right now,” you whisper, and he nods, brushing his nose against yours. 

“That’s okay,” he murmurs, leaning down to find your mouth once, twice more, before he’s rolling off of you. He turns away from you, and you panic for a moment, fingers reaching for him a little desperately, because space is not what you wanted. That’s not what you wanted at all.

“Please don’t go too far,” you say, and you would regret the desperation in your voice if you weren’t rewarded with the softest look from him in return.

“I’m just turning off the light so we can try and get some sleep,” he explains gently, fingers finding yours and squeezing. He doesn’t let go, even as he reaches for the lamp with his free hand, pulling you back and into his side as soon as the room goes dark.

You want to stay like this, to stay awake, to kiss him some more. But when there’s no more light and you’re wrapped in his warmth again, you can’t help but let your eyes fall shut.

It’s you that wakes up first. 

You know where you are as soon as your eyes open. You’re in Chan’s room, which is nothing new. What is new this morning is the way he’s got his arm draped over your waist, and his face is right next to yours on the pillow. And also that you kissed last night. A lot.

You panic a little when it all comes back to you, but your overthinking is overpowered by your need to pee. You manage to get out from under him with minimal damage. You try not to freak out as you wash your face, your brain reeling with what all of this might mean. You don’t regret it, of course you don’t, but does he?

You fight against everything in you that wants to run, to leave his apartment and pretend nothing happened. Because it’s Chan, and he’s a good friend, and you owe him that much, even if you’re a coward.

You’re grateful that you don’t have to wait for him long, because the longer you sit there, the more you want to throw up. You hear when he stirs in the other room, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a brief moment in order to steady yourself. You wait with bated breath on one of the stools in his kitchen like a robot, rigid and tense, until you finally hear him enter. 

“Hey,” he says softly, and your heart leaps into your throat. 

“Hi,” you reply, voice just as quiet, and you meet his eyes. He smiles tentatively, a hand lifting to run through his hair. He looks so heartbreakingly beautiful like this, you think, when it’s early in the morning and he’s on his way over to you, eyes a soft brown in the sunlight that streams through the kitchen window.

”Did you sleep okay?” 

You think he knows you were staring when he speaks and it takes you a second to react. You blush, abruptly turning your head away from him. 

“Yeah, I slept well.” 

“Hey,” he says, and you can practically hear him trying not to smile. “You can’t hide from me after you kissed me like that last night.”

“Chan!” You’re absolutely scandalized as he uses the bottom of the stool to turn you back towards him. Your hands lift to cover your face, and he laughs. You wince as his laughs subside, but you don’t fight him as he gently pulls your hands away.

“Hi,” he says again, and you purse your lips. “I’m sorry for teasing you.” The smile fades from his mouth as his expression turns serious. “We should talk about it.”

You nod, even though you’re so nervous you don’t know if you can talk at all. 

“Do you…” He trails off as he lets go of your hands. He leans against the counter next to you, and you wait for him to continue. “I mean, would you want to do that again?” You furrow your brows, and his eyes widen. He’s quick to speak again, stumbling over his words. “God, I meant… Did you enjoy it? Kissing me and everything? Do you, um, do you want to do this?” 

His eyes squeeze shut as he finishes his sentence, and you can’t believe how flushed he’s gotten. 

“Do you?” Is all you can manage.

Chan’s eyes open again, and he blurts out, “I asked you first.” 

That’s fair.

“Well,” you say softly, “my head’s definitely a lot clearer now.” You watch as Chan deflates a little.

“Oh.”

Your heart stutters in your chest as you clock the look of disappointment on his face. “Wait, no! I meant that — what I wanted to say is that even though I’m sober now, I still want to kiss you. Of course I wanted to kiss you last night, too. I wasn’t that drunk —” It’s your turn to flush crimson red now, and you force yourself to take a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is that of course I want this, Chan. I have wanted to be with you for so long, and I —“

Your surprised gasp is muffled as he pulls you into him, squeezing you so tight around the waist that you think he might break you. He buries his face in your neck and murmurs, “You should have said that first, oh my god. I have liked you for so long it’s embarrassing, so you need to stop talking before I literally explode.”

It takes a second for everything to process. Then he’s pulled back to look at you again, your legs moving to let him stand between them, and he presses his forehead to yours. Your hand lifts to his face, and you’re flooded with affection when he leans into the warmth of it.

“So,” he says softly.

“So,” you repeat.

He gazes at you, warm, and you bite your lip.

“Us?” You finally ask, and Chan nods with a smile.

“Us.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the fourth of our Thirteen Valentines in honour of Channie’s birthday. I know I just posted the Woozi fic yesterday, but it’s Chan’s birthday. What can I do?

Also, this fic in particular is very important to me, so I would love to hear your thoughts!

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, sorry!)

[skullvgirl]

Hi hi :) so I had a request and MAYBE IT SOUNDS STUPID but like-

What if Blue Lock was used for other sports depending on seasons? Like there's one for volleyball, basketball, etc, etc...

So imagine the boys are back home and they're chilling with their partner and oh! S/o got mail. They open it. Their partner is invited to Blue Lock for a chance to be on the best dance team. Specifically the best Lead/Main.

Who is like 'hell no don't do it, i was there'? Who would be encouraging and supporting them?Again maybe it's a silly idea but I'm just curious 🙏😭 doesn't have to be full headcannons or anything just maybe a sentence or two for each? Do whoever you'd like but please include Chigiri, Baro, Rin, Otoya, and Meguru!

Again, maybe that's a silly idea so feel free to ignore if you don't think Blue Lock would expand like that- but if you do, thank you so much!

-🐀

𝜗𝜚 when your invited too blue lock

warnings ;; none

incl ;; chigiri, barou, rin, otoya, bachira

an's ;; u r so creative for this request i love this that, and also sorry if oyota comes out a bit ooc, this is my first time writing for him ≽ܫ≼ !!

chigiri is utterly appalled. when you get the letter requesting your presence at blue lock, a part of him isnt surprised but he's just so shocked they would prey on a sweet girl like you. he tell's you not to do it, says that you're an amazing dancer w/o blue locks help but you kinda feel obligated since 1. he went and 2. it's for the main role in dancing, just like his role was a forward. you end of going and he honestly hopes you just don't come back traumatized like kuni did. and for their sake, lets pray you don't.

barou is 100% super supportive, and here me out on this. he definitely thinks ( although he doesn't say it outloud ) that everything about you is on some sort of podium where you and him rule above everybody else ( with you just a smidge higher ) and he probably thinks you could easily complete blue lock because of this. he definitely wants you to go, says to make sure to shit on everybody else there and put everyone in their place if they try it or he will. ( also probably binges your preformances once you get to that stage )

rin doesnt want you to even step foot in the building. mostly because you're saying you wanna go to 'be like him' but he kinda despises himself and the reason he went so yeah, super unsupportive. "Y/N don't go, you're safer with me here anyways." ( he's a big baby about it )

otoya also 100% wants you to go and is supportive of the same barou is only with him, he definitely cheats. although soccer and dancer are way two different things, aome of the same systems at bllk ( he's guessing ) are the same ( food/ ranking system ) he tells you about the whole shabang, kisses you out the door and screams while watching the competitions.

bachira is curious when you get the letter and he's not sure if he'a comepletely opposed too it or 100% for it, so i'd say 50/50. he definitely wants you too pursue huge margines in your career, and bllk is definitely a place to do that but at the risk of you failing and never being ablw to dance for japan again he decides you shouldn't go. "YN don't bother, it'd be way too easy for someone like you." ( 100% lying lololo )

an's ;; fun and refreshing ask 🐀 nonnie, thank you.

[xervn]

like a french girl 🎨

part 2 - like a | art major ellie x dance major reader

first chapter | next chapter

ao3

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you

18+ MDNI | 3.7k words | tags; college au, pining, still sfw for now, texting, no use of y/n, not proofread

a/n: if you're not imagining the prof as nick offerman you're not doing it right.

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The song finally ends and all the other dancers in the studio scatter, just as breathless and exhausted as you are, leaving the room reeking with sweat and the remnants of unbridled passion.

You try to steady your breathing, leaning forward with a hand bracing your thigh, fanning yourself off by pulling at the collar of your tee. Today’s practice was more exerting than usual, especially since you were the one leading it. 

You might’ve showed off a little because you overheard some of your classmates undermining your talent; claiming they could do your own choreo better than you can. It wasn’t like what they said bothered you, however, you needed to set the record straight.  

You’ve always been an amazing dancer, you have the awards, the scholarships to prove it. You’ve scraped your knees bloody to get to this point in your life. You weren’t gonna let a few shit talkers ruin a great thing. So, yeah, you’re absolutely winded because you wanted to prove a point, but you don’t regret a second of it. The looks on their faces was enough to clear any doubts for the rest of the year, for sure.

You drag your feet over to your stuff huddled in a corner, dodging past everyone else in a rush to leave. You pick up your water flask, taking a much needed chug. Mid-drink, you hear the doors of the now empty studio swing open and you swivel around only to see Dina in her black leotard, clutching her bag on her shoulder as she jogs towards you with a suspiciously wide smile.

“Hey, D. You don’t look like you want anything at all.” You say sarcastically, scoffing as you set your bottle down. 

“Oh, come on! I can’t see my best friend?” Dina asks, resting her hands on her hips. All you can do is stare at her with an unmoving expression of doubt, folding your arms with a perked brow. 

“My best-est friend in the whole world. Ever.” Dina adds on. 

You don’t think Dina could make it any more obvious so you decided to wrap it up yourself. “Dina, what is it? I swear to god if you say Jesse…” 

The expression on Dina’s face pointed in every direction that it’d be about him. You groan, amazed that you’re having this conversation again. She’s been pestering you for weeks now about meeting this “amazing” guy she’s been recently dating. She insisted that he’d be like another gal pal, but obviously you doubted that. You’re sure he’s as great as Dina says, but you find it awkward to meet him like that anyways. 

“Just hear me out!” Dina practically begs, clasping her hands together and everything.

“Dina— I love you, but I don’t wanna be a third wheel for an hour.”

Her wide grin returns, looking oddly ecstatic to hear you bring that up. “Okay, well, what if I told you that you won’t?”

You already told yourself you made up your mind the minute this conversation started, but you gesture for her to continue anyway.

Dina’s face lights up as she goes on, “Jesse’s going to bring his friend too, then it’ll be the four of us!” 

You’re not sure how to feel, it does cancel out the one annoyance you had, but now it sounds like a straight double date. The thought alone makes you cringe a bit. 

Dina can tell, rolling her eyes before speaking, “His friend’s a girl, and she’s cool.” 

You just silently make out an ‘oh’ and Dina snorts at your expression. Well, now there’s nothing keeping you from going, but you don’t feel like letting Dina have this one that easily, so you intensely rub your chin as if there’s something else to be considered.

“I’ll buy you food! Cinnamon rolls!” Dina exclaims with a hint of desperation. You giggle and stop the act, finally giving Dina a smile and a nod. She’s already pulling you in for a sappy hug and you return it with an eye roll, making sure she doesn’t go too crazy now that she’s finally convinced you.

“So, when are we doing that?” You ask.

“Today. You're so sweaty, gross.”

“Rude— Today?!”

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After a nice shower and a trip to a small on-campus bakery, it was time to go meet Jesse and his friend with Dina. Just to make conversation, you tell Dina about your embarrassing encounter last night as you two walk around campus. 

“You mooned a stranger?! Listen, when I said you should hook up with someone while I was gone, I meant through a party or an app. Not the window!” Dina exclaims, not even attempting to hide the amusement in her voice. 

Honestly, you were amused by the situation too, it was hard not to be. “Shhh… I didn’t moon her, she just happened to be there. Plus, my ass was mostly covered.” You reply with a playful grin before biting into your promised cinnamon roll. You didn’t really have anything to be embarrassed about, either way it’s an emotion you deal with often. First of all, you’re a dancer; you’ve tripped during a routine before, danced a few humiliating moves. It’s a part of the process. Second of all, your ass is fucking great and we’re ending on that note. 

Dina tsks and shakes her head at you in pretend disappointment. Unable to take her seriously, you dissolve into laughter. 

You two walk across the courtyard and into the school commons; a tall and open building, with the walls of it being large windows. For the time of day, it wasn’t that busy. You decide to scope out the small crowd, and play a little game with yourself to see if you can find out who Dina’s man is before she tells you. 

Not him. Definitely not him. Maybe him? Nah. Who is that?

“Over there!” Dina taps your shoulder excitedly and points in the distance, but you were already looking that way. 

There was a girl, maybe an inch taller than you in a black, patch-covered varsity jacket that definitely didn’t fit her, facing a taller guy that looked exactly like Dina’s type. You weren’t positive why you were drawn that direction, all you knew was that there was something vaguely familiar about that girl. You tried to put the pieces together, but you gave up not even two thoughts later; shrugging it off. 

The guy looks towards you and Dina, smiling brightly as he beckons you two over. Dina links arms with you and drags you along before you can even acknowledge it. As you two start approaching, the mystery girl finally turns around and offers a small smile to Dina, only for it to drop the second she lays eyes on you. 

Your eyes lock on hers and you’re absolutely mortified. It was definitely that girl. Y’know, the one you saw through your window? That girl. Even if you didn’t see her all that well last night, the struck look on her face gave her away. This funny situation was getting less and less fucking funny as you and Dina stride closer. The panic starts to override your sensory abilities, the unusual feeling etching into your thoughts. Maybe you should just own it? Pretend you don’t remember? Should you run away? You think you should—

“— meet Jesse!” Dina says, looking at you expectantly. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice you stopped walking. Now the girl is way closer than she was last night. You could keel over and die now, really. 

It’s not like you’ll see her again. You wish you could turn back time and slap yourself for jinxing you like that. You glimpse up at her, and, fuck, she was looking back at you. You guys needed to stop doing that. Even worse, she’s just as hot as you were hoping she wasn’t. The hair, the outfit, the decorated carabiner hanging off the loop of her jeans? She’s a fucking lesbian wet dream. 

You whip your head away, and unbeknownst to you, she’s still staring; gawking, even.

For Ellie, ever since you walked up, all that’s been going through her head was, ’I wanna draw her’ over and over again. Seeing you up close was even better than she could’ve ever imagined. Your… everything was better than she imagined. She initially locked eyes on you when you were still passing the courtyard and she was in awe of that smile of yours. She was obsessed with how you laughed, how you threw your head back as you did. For a moment, she wondered what was funny. For a moment, she thought about what she’d give to hear it. She had to look away and face Jesse so her whole body didn’t turn red from just watching you. 

She only understood the gravity of the situation when you finally approached. What were the chances you were Dina’s friend? You were really in front of her now, an arm distance away. She has literally never been happier to go out before. She was genuinely glad Jesse dragged her out here for once. 

For as long as she could, she admired you; already color-matching the shade of your skin, your eyes. Appreciating the plumpness of your lips, how expertly your gloss spread across them. She wants to appreciate more of you, but from the way you looked away from her, she worries you might think she’s a pervert and honestly, you’d be well within your rights to think so.

Ellie catches her stare, dipping her attention onto her feet instead. You catch the sheepish action in the corner of your eye and it automatically tells you everything you need to know. If she hadn’t seen anything, she wouldn’t be acting like that, right? Let alone remember you. You wish you weren’t agonizing over this, catching these little traits was only making things worse. 

It’s painful; the situation. The whole thing didn’t even cross your mind until recently. You can’t make eye contact with anyone in front of you anymore, so you nervously say hello along with your name while looking out of one of the several windows. 

Dina forces a smile, since she already introduced you herself, giving you a quick ‘what the fuck’ look on her face before turning back to Jesse who still hasn’t caught a whiff of the tension. Your behavior was incomprehensible. You’ve never acted this way around new people. The whole reason Dina begged you to come was because you were so personable, so you can only imagine her confusion now.

Jesse and Dina exchange looks before Dina attempts to continue the convo. “So, Ellie, what’s your major again?” Ellie. Now the (extremely good-looking) face has a name, great.

“Uh, drawing. Art.” Ellie says, awkwardly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as her eyes darted everywhere but you. You were making it awkward, she was making it awkward, and all for different reasons. 

Dina nods along to Ellie before saying, “Oh, really? Didn’t think you guys left your rooms.” Dina teases, slow-turning to Jesse who already has a fist bump waiting for her. 

Ellie shakes her head with half a smile. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Yeah, I guess I needed some sunlight.” 

“Yeah, right. I had to bribe you out with a DC comic.” Jesse chirps in, his tone taking a dramatically repulsed turn. 

Ellie immediately punches him in the arm, “You haven’t even read the comics, asshole.” 

Jesse’s hand shoots up to soothe the spot as he laughs.

“Well… I think DC is better than Marvel if you ignore the movies.” You spit out and Jesse and Dina are immediately groaning at your comment. The only reason you said anything was because you felt inclined to take Ellie’s side since they were ganging up on her. Not to mention you might’ve traumatized her, so you might as well attempt to make buddy-buddy. You weren’t lying though, you read enough comics in middle school to know; even if your appearance and style might’ve indicated otherwise.

Ellie teeters at the side, not expecting you to speak at all, let alone take her side. She didn’t think she deserved to hear you speak more than she has already, but here you were, making her blush over a silly shared interest.

Ellie stuffs her hands into her jacket’s pockets, twisting her lips before gaining the courage to speak to you. “That’s because it is. They haven’t read Sandman yet.” 

“Oh, shit. Sandman was really good! Death was definitely my gay awakening now that I’m thinking about it.” You respond, glancing off as you dwell back on it.

Ellie definitely blacked out for a moment after hearing “gay” and “awakening” leave your mouth in the same sentence. Now there’s a part of her wondering if she has a chance with you.

She doesn’t say anything, she can’t say anything since she doesn’t trust her voice. You can’t tell if she’s super awkward or homophobic, but she doesn’t look like the latter. She just gulps loudly and you take note of… this whole interaction and store it in your brain for a later date, like a sleepless night.

With the sudden silence befalling, you both look over to see that Dina and Jesse are still passionately ranting and raving about how trash DC is, so passionately they look like they might kiss about it. Like, their faces are inches away from each other. You and Ellie are absolutely baffled at how this is even possible. They’re talking about superheroes. Superheroes! The sight makes you wanna hurl. You scowl and look elsewhere, catching Ellie grimacing in the process. 

Her brows are furrowed, lip upturned, and her nose is slightly scrunched up to the point where she kinda resembles a squirrel. You snort to yourself at the comparison. Okay, she’s adorable, so it took everything in you to contain your laughter. Obviously, you did a poor job since Jesse and Dina turn to your stifled giggling, following your eyes to see a plainly disgusted Ellie judging them. 

They get flustered, shyly laughing it off while Ellie pretends to scold them. “Welcome back. Now cut it out.”

Ellie turns to you with a surprisingly bewitching smile that catches you way off guard, and mouths out ‘gross’ while stealing a glance at the couple. 

“Pfft, I think it might be time to change topics.” You say, biting back the smile forming on your lips. Ellie is unintentionally endearing, you can tell because, well, she’s growing on you. Maybe you’ve been overthinking the whole thing? From the looks of it, she might’ve just needed to warm up to you. You like that conclusion much more than anything else. Anything else being a possibly unflattering angle of your ass cheeks.

Dina chuckles before nodding, “Okay, well,” Dina puts a hand on your shoulder and looks between Jesse and Ellie, “She’s a dance major too. The trendy kind.” 

“Trendy kind?” Ellie asks, focusing on you as she waits for an answer.

You roll your eyes at Dina for the silly description and fixate back on Ellie, finding yourself unusually nervous under her stare. “I’m focusing on commercial dance choreography. For singers, concerts, things like that.”

“She also did ballet for ages.” Dina chimes in. You nod reluctantly, since it was a long time ago, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t still use those skills. 

“Oh, that explains it.” Ellie says, looking directly at you, clearly without a thought. She doesn’t mean anything bad by it, it just explains why she was weirdly infatuated with your back; your posture. Either way, that was supposed to stay in her head and not for you to hear.

You raise a brow, barely tilting your head to the side as you ask, “Explains what?”  

You hold your eye contact with Ellie this time, silently waiting for an answer. 

“Oh— err—“ Ellie stammers. She has no idea how to save herself. Even if she did, she doesn’t think she’d be able to say it when you’re looking at her like that. Looking up at her quizzically, slightly pouting out your full bottom lip. You’re a bit intimidating, you’ve always been a bit intimidating to everyone. However, Ellie finds herself oddly attracted at the same time and it’s really fucking with her brain. You aren’t even trying to be threatening though, you only want to know what she thinks of you. For no particular reason. 

Ellie, flustered beyond comprehension, can only shrug and manage out, “Uh, nothing? I guess, um, that’s how you two met?” 

You calm your expression, afraid Ellie might melt if you put any more heat on her and for the record, she would’ve, but not for what you think. You couldn’t read her at all and it made you wanna rip your hair out. 

You end up giving her a small nod while a trace of curiosity lingers on your face. 

Coincidentally, Ellie can’t read you either. Do you know she was the one “creeping” on you last night? If you don’t, then maybe all hope isn’t lost for her. But, of course, she can’t fucking tell. One second you’re looking at her like she’s a ghost, the next you’re giggling at all her jokes. But she’s not an idiot, she knows that as long as she doesn’t completely scare you off; she can complete her final. The only question from here is if she’ll ever gain the courage to ask you. 

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The answer to that is no. No, no, no. You’ve been integrated into Ellie’s life for weeks now. Although it hasn’t been daily you always show up at least twice a week, over three when she’s lucky. It’s been weeks and she still can’t ask you. 

In her defense, you guys are never alone. You haven’t even walked by Ellie since the dance wing and art wing are nowhere near each other. You’re always with Dina, she’s always with Jesse. All four of you occasionally meet up for lunch, or spot each other at student events and parties. Never just you and her. Ellie has tried to rehearse just asking you casually with Dina and Jesse around, but that sounds like a fuckin’ humiliation ritual. Imagining you saying “ew, no” or bringing up how she was ogling you through your window in front of them. 

It’s not like you’ve been giving her the impression that you would. It’s actually far from that. You’re a walking ray of sunshine. You always, and I mean, always say hi to her first. Ellie might be a little nuts, considering it’s only between her and Jesse, but she swears you do. Sometimes, you even avoid him to get to her first and she thinks it’s the cutest damn thing ever, but as far as she knows, that’s just her imagination playing a sick prank on her delusion.

Good news is that her work has improved since she still gets to see you often. She steals glances at you, taking mental pictures of you whenever she can. If someone told her to draw you eating a damn french fry, she’d be able to do it perfectly. 

Her professor leaves less marks on her work than usual, and with finals rapidly approaching, Ellie thinks this is the best she’ll ever be able to do. It’s way better than before and the chances of you modeling for her are slim to none, so she’s trying to convince herself she’s perfectly fine with wrapping it up here. Acting like it doesn’t eat away at her to not be able to draw your full body, all its perfections and imperfections. 

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You’re chatting with some friends as you gather your stuff up to leave, when your professor calls out your name. Your head shoots up in that direction and you quickly excuse yourself as you walk over to a scruffy looking older man shuffling around paperwork.

“Yes?” You stand neutrally at his desk, completely unaware of what he has to say to you. 

“You’re failing. Failing horrendously,” He shifts in his seat to look at you better, “You know you are human right? You labeled the rectus femoris the tibialis anterior for fuck’s sake.” 

The… what? You had absolutely no idea you were failing and no idea what he was saying. Yeah, you spent zero time studying, but it’s human anatomy. It’s just a stupid mandatory course. The classes with actual dancing are what you put your time and effort into. What type of asshole teaches a science course at an arts school, then fails the students? Whatever.

You bite your tongue before speaking, forcing a faint smile. “Oh, well, can I make up the grade…?”

The man pinches the bridge of his nose before pulling out your paper from the stack and in front of you. “You’re not understanding, out of 640 muscles in the human body you got one correct. The pectoralis major.”

Honestly, you have no words. Seeing the paper in front of you was pretty humbling. 

He laces his fingers as he continues to gruffly speak, “I don’t know if it’s because you’re gay or something and the only thing you can identify are boobs, but this is an easy grade. You had to get at least 200 correct to pass.”

Did he just? Your jaw dropped ages ago, and you start to say something but he immediately cuts you off. “I don’t wanna hear it, take your paper. Study, and I’ll let you retake it. Do not make me have to fail you.” 

You purse your lips, conflicted with how he called you out and how he’s giving you a redo. You just snatch the paper and storm out of the classroom. 

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dina: LMFAOOO

you: its not fucking funny

dina: is it becus ur gay or something

you: STFU!!!!

you: what do i do ffs

you: finals week is coming up soon and im stupid

dina: you shouldve taken the course with me last semester

you: help me study

dina: foh i barely passed 

you: 😭😭😭im so screwed 

dina: no ur not

dina: don’t worry

dina: ask ellie 

Ask Ellie? Your thumbs shake over your screen. How could you ask Ellie? The amount of strength it takes to talk to her in real life without turning into putty is insane. You guys don’t even cross paths enough for you to comfortably ask for a favor, but you really need to pass this class. It definitely wouldn’t be the worst to finally talk to her one on one... hang out with her more… see her more… Fuck it.

you: what’s her number?

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what's this? click!

tag list: @bready101 @pascals-doll @macaroni676 @khai-le @pedropascalsbbg @seraphicsentences @starlight-savegery @snowy-vee

a/n: marvel solos but i think ellie would love dc

[mediumgayitalian]

part one

———

Finding parking is, as expected, hard, largely in part because Michael wants to get them all killed.

“— yeah, that’s right, shitwad! Back off! We were here —”

“Will you please shut the fuck up,” Lee hisses, jamming the switch for Michael’s window. Unfortunately, Michael is sticking his fucking head out of it, so it won’t close.

“This fucking guy! This fucking guy thinks he can swoop up to our spot —”

“Motherfucker we’re in Wilmington, do you want to get fucking shot —”

“He can wait his godsdamn turn like everybody else! Hey, fucker —”

He succeeds, finally, in yanking his brother back in by the scruff of his neck and speeding away from the shitwad in question.

“I can’t believe you let him walk all over us!”

“If I end up with a bullet hole through my windshield, I am kicking your ass, Michael. I won’t need to worry about some trigger happy mortal taking you out. I’ll kill you.”

“Drama queen. Now we’re never gonna find a damn spot.”

They do, in fact, find a damn spot. Within forty-three seconds of Michael saying that, actually, Will points out not just a parking spot but a pull-through, which Lee takes, smirking. Michael aims a kick for his knee.

“Go help Will unbuckle, you bitter bitch. I gotta grab something.”

Ignoring both Michael’s grumbling and Will’s insistence that he can unbuckle himself, thank you very much, Lee jogs over to the trunk. He grabs his and Michael’s bows, just in case, and carefully grabs the bundle of roses he bought from the stand across from his apartment. The stems are a little crushed, but the flowers all seem fine, full and bright, sunny yellow. Even the paper is relatively uncrinkled, folding delicately around the thorny leaves.

Michael nods when he sees them. “Nice.”

“Thanks.” Lee tosses him his bow, slinging his own over his back. It flickers with his quiver under the Mist, settling eventually to look like a small backpack. “Got ‘em this morning.”

“Can I hold them?” Will asks.

“Sure, kiddo.”

He lays them gently in his arms, the same way Cass has taught him to bundle herbs and plants when they gather for poultices. Every step is suddenly much more deliberate, avoiding potholes and cracks in the pavement so he doesn’t trip and crush them under his body. When he nearly walks in front of a car, not paying attention, Michael plants a hand on his head, guiding him around like a claw machine.

“Okay,” Lee says, holding open the door. “Let’s find Diana.”

The lobby is crowded. There are people everywhere — families, grandparents, and of course dozens of dancers, shining hair pieces glinting in the low lights, tutus and rhinestones peeking out of studio sweatsuits. Faces heavy with stage makeup bleed into each other. The building is abuzz with sound, chatter and laughter and shouting and twenty different songs playing at once. Lee can hardly believe they’re all fitting in the same building, and almost convinces himself it’s actually enchanted, smaller on the outside. He glances down when Will backs into him, flowers clutched tighter to his chest, and rests a firm hand on his shoulder. He hooks his finger around Michael’s hoodie, too, and for once he doesn’t complain.

“You see her?” he shouts over the noise. Or, well, Lee’s pretty sure that’s what he said. He shakes his head, anyway, and Michael scowls, standing uselessly on his tiptoes. Even if that didn’t put him just barely over most people’s shoulders, the throng of people is too thick to see much. People elbow and push each other around to meet up with family members, and groups of dancers do their best to practice their routines in what limited space is available. Lee has felt less claustrophobic in Times Square at Christmas.

In a stroke of brilliance, in his very humble opinion, he lets go of Will’s shoulder, puts both hands under his arms, and hauls him over his head, settling him on his shoulders.

“Keep an eye out,” he shouts.

Will grins, tugging on Lee’s hair with his free hand in confirmation.

One hand clamped over Will’s knees, the other still hooked on Michael’s hoodie, Lee starts to wade through the crowd. He can start to see, as he gets farther from the door, the entrance to the stage, the ticket stands, the coat check. Several banners hang temporarily from the ceiling and stick to doorways, welcoming them all to the Twenty-Sixth Annual Believe Dance Comp!, and a table laden with trophies sits proudly by the stage doors.

Sitting under one of the banners, Lee notices a group of girls of varying ages, all wearing the green and purple Stage Lights Dance Academy Cass sometimes wears. He guides them closer, scanning each stage makeup-ed face to try and find his sister, but stops short before he gets too close.

Two girls, sitting at the head of the group, mime twisting their hair, exaggeratedly anxious looks on their faces. The rest of the girls roar with laughter.

Lee feels something heavy settle in his stomach.

“You think anyone will come for her?” a younger girl asks, hushed so that Lee can barely hear her over the crowd.

One of the older girls snorts. “Are you kidding? The only way her mom will come is if there’s an open bar!”

Lee is reminded of the one and only time he’d fought a group of empousai. There’d been a trio of them a Central Park, on a field trip he’d gone on with his ninth grade class, surrounding one of the oak dryads. They’d crooned at her, tugging on her leafy hair and trailing clawed fingers down her handmade dress, calling out backhanded compliments. But Lee’s skin felt like it was crawling, he remembers, and the dryad had been tense, green tears building in her eyes. Every bleat of their laughter had grated his ears, and he’d snapped, eventually, ripping off his bow and picking them off one by one. The third one had seen him, chasing him away from his group, but he’d been so mad that he wasn’t even scared. The dryad hadn’t done anything. They got nothing from poking at her. They’d just done it to be cruel, because it was fun for them.

“I don’t even know why she has the gall to show up. She missed the final practice.”

“Miss Breanna likes her, that’s why,” one of the girls scoffs. “Of course she can skiff off practice and still compete. She thinks she’s so much better than us.”

Michael shifts forward. Lee throws out an arm to stop him, shooting him a warning look.

“You think anyone’ll take your side?” he murmurs.

“They’re talking about —!”

“I know, Michael.”

“They can’t talk about her like that!”

“I know, Michael.” He forces his jaw to unclench. “I know.”

“Yeah, well, favourite or not,” another dancer says wickedly, “her seats will be empty again. And she’ll walk out empty-handed and alone, like she always does.”

Most of the adults milling about the lobby hold flowers, like they do. Except unlike them, their bouquets are large, unlike them the stems are not crushed, unlike them they are wrapped in ribbons, in embroidered banners. One is, even, shaped as a ballet slipper, and Lee notices the oldest girl in the group, the one who made the joke about Cass’s mother, eyeing it, smirking.

He pictures Cass holding it next to all the other girls from her studio. With their big, normal families, their wide smiles, their fancy cameras, their beautiful, expensive bouquets. Pictures the smirks that will be sent her way, the whispers. They can’t — gods, what was he thinking?

“What time is it?” he asks.

Michael glances at his watch. “Quarter to.”

“Hm.”

In her frantic IM, yesterday, Diana had ordered them to be here by noon. From what little he knows about dance competitions, Cass’s performance will be sometime after that, nestled among the many. When exactly, he doesn’t know.

If they leave now, wagering, they could miss it. And that would be the worst thing of them all. But…

“Will,” he says, suddenly getting an idea. “C’mere.”

He reaches up and sets Will back on the ground, clutching his hand as he weaves through the crowd, beelining for the far corner. He stops at a sign with a little stick person on it, gently taking the flowers from Will’s hold and passing them back to Michael.

“Listen to me carefully.” He crouches to Will’s level, meeting his eyes. “Diana is — somewhere, in there, getting Cass ready. Michael and I can’t go in there. We need you to go in and act really confused.”

“That will be very easy, because I am confused,” Will protests. “Why do I have to go in there? I don’t even really know why we’re here!”

“Just — go in,” Lee insists. “Trust me. If I give you more instructions, it’ll ruin it.”

Huffing, Will goes.

“Brilliant,” Michael mutters. “Lose the kid and Diana. Great plan, Lee.”

“Come on, does no one trust me?”

“No one knows what you’re doing, dude! You hang around Carter for five minutes and suddenly you think you’re Mr. Plan Guy —”

Lee flushes. “That is not what this is about!”

“I am not missing this! I swear Lee, if we’re late —”

“We’re not gonna be late!”

“Why is it that every boy on Earth is actually stupid,” hisses a new voice. The change room door busts open, damn near cracking under the heel of a heavy boot, and Diana comes striding out behind it, Will perched on her hip. Her short dark hair sticks out in every which way, shoulders tense as a line, mouth twisted in a scowl. Immediately, Lee and Michael snap their mouths shut.

“Hey,” Will complains, pouting.

She adjusts her hold on him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not you, sweetpea. Only Thing One and Thing Two, over here.” She glares at them. “Why did I find him wandering around in the change room? I told you to wait for me in the lobby! I swear you two want to — ruin this!”

“Hey,” Lee says, flinching back. “You know we don’t, Diana. That’s not fair.”

She scrubs a hand down her face, sighing. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just —” She presses another kiss to Will’s cheek and sets him down, leaning on the doorframe. “It’s been a rough morning. She keeps trying to call her mom, and — well.”

Lee hates that those girls were right. He hates it. He hates that they’ve been right before, that Cass has walked off the stage, face blank, alone. Hearing their giggling, probably. Twisting her hair around her fingers as she tries to hold it together.

His jaw tightens.

Not this fucking time.

“What time is Cass on?” he asks

“…Her solo at one-thirty,” Diana says. “But —”

“Great.” Lee grabs each brother’s shoulder, pulling them back. “We won’t be late, Diana, I promise.”

“Wait! Lee — dude, what are you —”

“We’ll meet you inside! Save us seats!”

“Lee! Get back here!”

“Seats!” Lee calls, glancing back. He makes a vague gesture in return to her incredulous, spread-wide hands, trying to convey the Situation. “We won’t be late! Promise!”

“I’ll kill you if you are!” she relents. “Be fucking back on time!”

———

In hindsight, it would have been smarter to take the car.

For whatever reason, both Lee and Michael assumed there would be a flower stand just outside the theatre. Neither of them had seen one on the way in, but it made sense. If Lee had a flower business, he’d probably put it next to a theatre. Where else would you put it?

Regardless, there isn’t anything close across the street, or even on the whole block. Will sits on his shoulders again, because it’s easier than trying to guide him, and every so often he glances at the watch Beckendorf made him, calling out the time.

“Will,” Lee begs, veering around a street corner, “you are not helping.”

“I am so!” He checks his watch again. “Twenty-seven minutes ‘til Cass starts. That’s why we’re here, right? To watch Cass dance?”

“So long as we make it in time,” Michael stresses. “Shit, Lee, maybe we should just head back. The flowers we have are fine —”

“Cass deserves more than fine.”

Michael snaps his mouth shut. “I know that.”

Lee slumps. “I — know you know. Sorry.”

Their steps fall in synch, footsteps making level prints in the light dusting of snow. On occasion a passing car drowns them out, but for the most part the only sound is their breathing, and Will picking at his nails. The shifting of their jackets.

“You’ll never undo it, Lee.” The road cross button makes a heavy click noise under Michael’s fist. The countdown for the walking man is loud, four, three, two, one. Three of the little lights are broken, making it look like its chest is cracked open. “There’s some shit you just can’t fix.”

“I’m not trying to — fix her,” he argues weakly. “I’m just…”

He can’t push away the horrible ache in his chest. The rapidly expanding feeling, the sinking chasm of expecting and hoping and being disappointed. Of looking out into the crowd to find a familiar face and not finding one. Of hearing giggles as you walk past and clenching your teeth, knowing. It balloons, pushing out on his ribcage, forcing its way up his throat.

Michael stops, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. Lee stares at a spot at the air above his shoulder, swallowing roughly, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, Lee. You think competing with those assholes is gonna — go back? Gonna magically bring her fucking — hell, bring Dad?”

Lee looks away. “Of course not.”

“We’re going to be there. That’s what matters, isn’t it? That’s what’s really important.”

“Oh, to hell with high horses, Michael. I’m fucking tired of — of pretending it’s okay!” He starts forward again, ignoring the twinge of pain in his skull when Will grips his hair, yelping at the sudden surge forward. Michael jogs to keep up. “It’s — fight these monsters, train these kids, lead your cabin. Ignore the fact that your dad couldn’t be assed to visit a few times a year, he’s an Olympian, after all, you understand. Well, I’m tired of it! I’m tired of —” he trips over a crack in the sidewalk, barely catching himself — “I’m tired of being so damn understanding!”

For a moment Michael says nothing. Lee’s breathing is heavy, shakey, and it takes effort to still the tremble in his hands.

“The girl,” Michael says eventually. “The prissy one, who sat closer to the door.”

“…What about her?”

“I just.” He chews at his bottom lip. “I’m not saying I disagree with you, dude, but you have issues, dude, and shit you need to work out. For real. Besides just —” he gestures broadly at the mostly empty street — “ranting into the air.” Slowly, a smirk spreads across his face. “It would be really, really funny to see her face if Cass walks out with a bouquet three times the size of hers, wouldn’t it.”

Lee matches his grin. “It would be.”

“Betcha she’d seethe.”

“Probably turn purple.”

They turn to each other, finally back in synch.

“Nineteen minutes,” Will pipes up.

Lee startles. He checks his own watch. “Oh, shit. Let’s go.”

———

part three

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

Upstairs, the club is already full and alive with music and lights and people. While the others walk out on the dance floor, making their way toward the DJ booth, I stay back, allowing myself a few minutes to acclimate. I find a spot in the back, out of the way, and watch the crowd on the dance floor as they smile and cheer and dance, some goofing off and laughing with friends, others serious and focusing only on the music as they move. It occurs to me that it’s been years since I’ve been to a club. Dawn used to drag us out all the time when we were in college together, and I got kind of burnt out on it after a while, but I’m glad I came out tonight.

I look past the dancers to the booth and recognize the DJ as our co-worker Kamryn, her signature bright pink ponytail swaying as she dances behind the decks. I had no idea she did this kind of thing, but she’s good.

It’s not long before I find myself moving my head and shoulders to the beat, the rest of my body itching to be set free and move as the bass thumps in my chest and a familiar warmth radiates through my limbs. As I expected, the tablet Lex gave us contains MDMA and something else, and whatever that something else is multiplies the sensation and I feel it hit me all at once as my entire body flushes with heat and a gentle euphoria lifts my anxiety up and away.

I look around to try to spot Ash, and as if I manifested him with my mind, I see him walk out of the crowd right toward me. His black t-shirt is soft and thin and hangs on him just right, and my mind flashes briefly to the exposed skin underneath. Catching myself, I take a breath and look up quickly to see his playful smirk. “Are you gonna come dance, or what?” He asks.

“Yeah, I was just about to.”

“Let’s go then.”

He extends his hand to me, and I take it, letting him lead me through the crowd to the middle of the dance floor where the moving lights and loud music and energy of the dancers take over. I let it envelop me and flow through me as I let go and dance and become part of it all.

[music]

I look over at Ash and am immediately mesmerized by the way he moves, weightless and fluid. I’ve seen him dance dozens of times, and he always looks good, even when we’re just fucking around in his living room trying to make each other laugh, but this is different. His footwork is quick and smooth and hypnotic, his weight shifting, pulling him side to side, crossing over and back again. It’s a style so distinctly urban that I can’t help but wonder where the fuck in Brindleton Bay he learned to dance like that. I can’t take my eyes off him.

Part of me is tempted to reach out and pull him into me, but I also don’t want to interrupt him. I watch as someone else comes up behind him and tries to dance with him, but he shrugs them off and shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone to do his own thing. So, I leave him be and dance beside him, keeping my hands to myself. It’s probably for the best anyway… I have an image of Lex popping up between us if we get too close, as if I’m a teenager again at a church dance being monitored to “save room for Jesus”. Little did they know what Henry and I had gotten up to earlier that day. I smile to myself at the memory. He may have broken my heart in the end, but that day… that was a good day. It feels nice to be able to enjoy a happy memory without being dragged down by all the sad ones attached to it, even if only temporarily. I silently thank Lex for whatever she gave me… and thank myself for only taking half. The night is already starting to blur around me as it is.

Soon, a song comes in that drags me gently out of my wandering thoughts and wraps around me like a warm blanket. It’s beautiful, layered and flowing like waves, the beat quick but more subtle than the others, a welcome reprieve. I look over at Asher and he smiles at me, nodding; he likes it too. Letting the beat guide me, I close my eyes and move to the music, feeling it wash over me as I lose myself again.

[1:50] The song slows and gets quiet sooner than I’d like it to, but I take advantage of getting a moment to breathe. Ash is grinning up at me, and I get the distinct feeling he’d been watching me.

“What’s that look for?” I ask.

“Having fun?” He was definitely watching me.

I laugh a little, more flattered than embarrassed, “Yeah, you?”

He shrugs casually, but, judging by the size of his pupils and the grin on his face, I’d say he’s feeling as good as I am.

“Where’s Lex?” I wonder, realizing that I haven’t seen anyone else from our group in a while.

Ash searches the crowd for a moment before pointing to the far end. I turn to see her familiar mop of ginger curls, and smile when I see her laughing and dancing with her friends.

“Enjoying her birthday, I see.”

“Yep.”

[2:20] The music dips quieter as the layers are removed bit by bit. When I turn back to Ash, my smile falters as I look him over, the image of his shirt lifting up refuses to leave my mind, and my body trembles from the effort of holding myself back from reaching out to him.

My desire (or desperation?) must show on my face because he peers at me through his long lashes, gives me a playful grin, and asks, “What?” The way he says it comes out like a dare, and I watch as his eyes dip down and then slowly follow the lines of my body back up until they meet mine again, making my heart race and turning the last ounce of my willpower to dust at my feet.

[2:40] The music is starting to rise, so I gesture for him to come closer. When he leans in, my body reacts instantly, as if each and every individual cell is reaching for him, so I take his hand and I put my mouth to his ear and say the only thing I can think of to say, “I want you to kiss me.”

Our cheeks are so close that I feel the disturbance in the air between them as he smiles. He pulls back, and holds up a finger, telling me to hold on. I watch curiously as he listens to the music, nodding his head to the beat, as if waiting for something.

[2:55] A second later, he looks back at me with an excited smile, and in one swift motion, he reaches a hand to the back of my head and pulls himself into me. The second our lips touch, I feel the energy rush through my entire body as the music drops and the crowd around us erupts in cheers and dancing.

Maybe it’s the drugs, maybe it’s the music, maybe it’s him, or maybe it’s the combination of it all, but it’s the best kiss I’ve ever had.

Prev // Next

[gyorouis]

𐙚 PLEASURE DELAYER.

— "your mystery, like an orange peel's stings left its mark despite my delicate efforts."

genre: fluff, angst

pairing: varsity/med student!yeonjun x med student!y/n (fem reader)

warning: swearing, (bad writing lol)

word count: 3.4k

now playing: between friends — pleasure delayer ୨ৎ

the first time you laid your eyes on yeonjun, was when your university had a sport’s week. you were patiently waiting for your friend beomgyu who was busy taking photos for the journalism department's upcoming feature. you stood there, outside the court, hands on your pocket and chewing on your gum, time seemed to drag on. growing increasingly bored waiting for beomgyu, you eventually wandered into the gymnasium.

loud screams from the spectators on the benches filled the air, some holding red balloons and others clutching yellow ones. you scanned the crowd, searching for a tall guy with copper hair and a camera hanging around his neck. finally spotting him, you saw beomgyu sitting on one of the benches, completely absorbed in the game, seemingly forgetting that his best friend was waiting outside the gymnasium.

“y/n!” he screams when he spots you, glaring at him as he waves his hands, signaling you to sit beside him. you shake your head, sports like this don’t excite you. he stomps his feet and looks at you pleadingly. defeated, you slowly walk towards him. you release a deep sigh when you sit beside him. “is that a sigh i'm hearing?” he exclaims. you roll your eyes and try to focus on the court where the game is happening. you see the players dribbling, shooting, and the crowd cheering enthusiastically with each point scored. you can't quite grasp what makes this game so thrilling for people like beomgyu, who is groaning each time your department scores. you’ve never enjoyed watching basketball; the fast-paced action and strategic plays seem lost on you. you glance around at the excited faces of the fans, trying to understand their enthusiasm.

you were fidgeting in your seat, unease creeping in as your eyes swept across the bustling stadium. the air was thick with the clamor of enthusiastic fans, their cheers echoing off the walls. red and yellow balloons bobbed above the crowd, adding splashes of color to the sea of faces. despite feeling out of place in this lively atmosphere, you resolved to give it one last shot and focus on the game unfolding before you.

as you glance towards the court, your eyes fixate on a dark-haired guy wearing your department’s basketball jersey. he stands out amidst the flurry of action, his movements flowing with a captivating confidence. although you’re not well-versed in basketball, his skills and passion for the game are unmistakable and draw you in.

you notice how effortlessly he dribbles the ball, swiftly maneuvering past defenders with grace. each shot he takes seems calculated yet instinctive, earning cheers from the crowd each time the ball finds its mark. his movements possess a mesmerizing rhythm, like a dancer on a stage, commanding attention with every pivot and feint. despite the noise around you, you find yourself leaning forward, completely engrossed in observing his every move.

unbeknownst to you, beomgyu has been observing you, trying to gauge exactly where your eyes are fixed. a grin appears on his lips when he discovers your gaze directed towards the court.

“that’s yeonjun, choi yeonjun,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you side-eyed him. “i wasn’t asking his name,” you explained.

“yeah, whatever. oh, anyway, he’s just from the other block so you will probably see him around, especially in our department's building,” he added casually, watching for your reaction.

“but i never saw him around…” you replied, your curiosity piqued despite yourself.

bingo! beomgyu thought, noting your subtle interest in yeonjun.

"well, now you did," he said before standing from his seat. "where are you going?" you said, trying to focus on the game while looking at beomgyu. 

"you said that the game bores you, right? let’s go! besides, i’ve already got enough shots for the paper," he said, noticing your furrowed eyebrows and dropped shoulders. but before he could say more, you stood up. 

"you’re right, let’s go," you said, starting to walk away, leaving beomgyu confused. "i thought she would want to stay until the game ends," he whispered to himself, shaking his head at your unexpected decision, before following you.

the second you saw yeonjun again was in your department building’s lobby. it was a few days after that first game encounter. he was walking with his friend, a tall, blonde figure. yeonjun sported the casual attire of a medicine student heading to class, with his basketball warm-up draped loosely around his neck. you watch intently as he strides towards the elevator, mere feet away from where you stand. your gaze lingers on him, absorbing every detail of his demeanor and appearance, as if etching his features into your memory. the air seems to hum with anticipation as your eyes meet his unexpectedly, sending a jolt through you.

it was only a fleeting moment, but his eyes locked onto yours for what felt like an eternity, a good 13 seconds if you could recall. your heart raced as if it might burst from your chest. in that brief exchange, you felt exposed, as if he could see right through you. now he knows you exist.

the night after, you found yourself giggling uncontrollably, playfully nudging beomgyu as you recounted how yeonjun had looked at you in the lobby.

“what the fuck? you actually counted how long he stared at you?” beomgyu exclaimed, feigning disbelief and disgust.

“do we have overlapping schedules with their block?” you asked, brushing off beomgyu's reaction.

“damn, you're really into him,” he chuckled under his breath. your gaze turned pleading, a look beomgyu knew all too well—an expression that signaled you were about to ask a favor, one that could potentially lead to embarrassment for either of you.

unable to resist your persistence, beomgyu raised his hands in defeat. “fine, fine. i’m close with soobin. i'll ask him about yeonjun,” he conceded reluctantly.

in the days after the basketball game and that brief 13-second eye contact, yeonjun becomes a familiar sight around campus. you spot him often: in the library, flipping through books with focused intensity; at the campus café, laughing with friends over cups of coffee; and even during evening strolls, where you both occasionally pass each other under the soft glow of street lamps. it's as if he's woven himself into the fabric of your daily routine, appearing in unexpected moments that leave you wondering if it's mere chance or something more.

you catch glimpses of him between classes, sometimes pausing near the same notice board or lingering near the art building where he seems to appreciate the sculptures on display. each encounter brings a mix of curiosity and fascination as you observe his interactions with others and the way he effortlessly commands attention without trying.

weeks pass, and you find yourself pondering about yeonjun more often—and whether he notices your coincidental meetings as much as you do. it's a strange sensation, this heightened awareness of someone who was once just another face in the crowd, now seemingly everywhere you look on campus.

when you thought you were content with those small smiles and nods toward each other, you were wrong. one time, you were waiting for beomgyu outside their journalism office. as you stood there, you heard a familiar laugh echoing down the hallway. your heart raced, and you wished the floor would swallow you up as you realized the laugh was drawing nearer. it came to an abrupt halt when the person causing the laughter noticed you standing there.

you could still hear small chuckles when someone patted your shoulder. you slowly turned your head, praying, "please don't be yeonjun, please don't be yeonjun." as you looked up, your heart pounded. standing before you was a tall guy with tousled blonde hair and black glasses, his smile warm and genuine. "hi, you’re beomgyu’s friend, right?" he asked, his voice smooth and friendly. you were left dumbfounded, your mind racing to process the situation. if you weren't mistaken, this was yeonjun’s friend, the one you had heard so much about from beomgyu.

just as you were about to answer him, yeonjun appeared at his side. oh, that eye smile; you swore you could die just from the sight of his genuine smile. he waved at you, and you shyly returned the favor, feeling your cheeks flush.

"oh, is that the camera that beomgyu uses?" yeonjun exclaimed, his eyes widening with excitement as he hopped to stand beside you. your heart skipped a beat at his sudden closeness, his presence both electrifying and overwhelming.

you weren't sure how you managed to answer all his questions about the camera and how it worked. his curiosity was endearing, his eyes sparkling with interest as you explained. each time he leaned in closer to inspect the camera, your heart raced. his fascination with cameras was evident, and you found yourself captivated by his enthusiasm. as he listened intently, nodding and asking follow-up questions, you couldn't help but be drawn to his genuine passion and the way his smile made everything else fade into the background.

"can we use it, or like take a picture now? no, uhh, can i take a picture of you using that?" he asked, his excitement palpable. you didn't utter a word, just nodded in response.

standing there awkwardly, you waited as yeonjun prepared to click the shutter. he stole a glance at you, his voice soft and inviting, "smile for me." the sound of his voice felt like a gentle caress, warming your heart, and you couldn't help but smile genuinely. sensing your reaction, he looked at you again, a faint smile tugging at his lips before he skillfully pressed the shutter.

"see? it came out nice!" he exclaimed, showing you the picture. his talent for photography was evident as he had perfectly captured your sweet smile. "it's pretty, you're pretty," he added, his words delivered with a sincerity that made your heart flutter, as though he hadn't just sent your thoughts spinning in delightful chaos.

just then, yeonjun's presence in your life became more significant. you found yourself either spending lunch with him or walking home together, as your paths aligned perfectly. it was a simple joy, yet it filled you with contentment. you desired nothing more than these moments with yeonjun, even if it was just as friends.

tonight, you are walking with yeonjun under the serene night sky. the moonlight casts a gentle glow on both of you. originally, soobin and beomgyu were supposed to join you, but beomgyu, sensing the need for some space, invited soobin to accompany him to the convenience store.

“aren’t you hungry?” yeonjun asks, breaking the awkward silence between you. 

“i’m not, how about you?” you reply. yeonjun seems taken aback by your response; he had silently hoped you would say you were hungry so he could spend more time with you.

“i’m not hungry,” he says with a smile.

“are you sure?” you ask, stopping in your tracks. he nods and, without thinking, takes your hand as you both cross the street. the sensation of butterflies in your stomach feels like an understatement; it’s as if they’re having a jubilant party, all energized by yeonjun’s electric touch.

you let your body fall onto the mattress, a smile still lingering on your lips. you place your hand, the one yeonjun held, near your heart. a thought emerges: is he thinking about it too? is he smiling about it too? does yeonjun feel the same way you do? the smile slowly fades as you consider the possibility of your feelings not being reciprocated.

you are content with having yeonjun by your side, but your heart longs for more than just friendship. a part of you wonders if it might be worth taking a chance. despite the uncertainty, there lies a possibility that he, perhaps, feels the same way too.

you woke up. no, you didn’t even get the chance to sleep peacefully; your mind was clouded with thoughts of yeonjun. lazily, you got up and prepared for campus, dreading the webinar you had to attend and praying you wouldn’t see him today because you looked exactly like a panda.

you sat beside beomgyu, half-listening to the speaker. it had been easy to avoid yeonjun so far; you hadn’t seen him since arriving at the auditorium. your eyes wandered around the room, searching the crowd. just as you were about to give up, your gaze landed on the balcony of the second floor. there he stood, arms crossed and resting on the railing, his eyes fixed on you as if he had been watching for a while, waiting for you to notice him.

you smiled and were about to wave when he winked at you. caught off guard, you quickly looked behind you, checking if the wink was meant for someone else. when you looked back, yeonjun was chuckling, clearly amused by your flustered reaction. feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you turned back toward the stage, trying to focus on the speaker. but your mind kept drifting back to that moment, a flustered smile tugging at your lips. the memory of his wink lingered, making it impossible to concentrate, as your thoughts danced around the possibility of what it might mean.

one night, you lay awake in bed, replaying a memory in your mind: a rainy afternoon where you and yeonjun had taken shelter under a gazebo. you shivered from the cold, and without hesitation, he had draped his jacket over your shoulders, his hands lingering on your arms as he looked at you with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “you always get cold so easily,” he had said, his voice soft and caring. the warmth of his jacket and his gentle touch had made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered to him.

another time, during a group study session, he had absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “you look tired,” he had murmured, concern etched on his face. “make sure you get some rest, okay?” his touch had sent shivers down your spine, and the way he looked at you made you wonder if there was something more behind his actions.

and then there were the nights you spent talking until the early hours of the morning, sharing your dreams, fears, and secrets. his presence was a constant comfort, and the way he listened to you, really listened, made you feel seen and understood in a way no one else had ever made you feel. 

these memories replayed in your mind as you stood outside the campus café, waiting for yeonjun. you had asked him to meet you, your heart pounding with anticipation and dread. as he approached, his usual smile faltered when he saw the seriousness on your face.

“yeonjun, we need to talk,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of what you were about to say.

he nodded, his expression concerned. “what’s wrong, y/n?”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “i need to understand what’s going on between us. all those moments we’ve shared, the way you look at me, the way you touch me… what does it mean to you?”

he blinked, taken aback by your sudden intensity. “what do you mean? we’re friends, y/n. you know that.”

your frustration bubbled over, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. “friends don’t look at each other the way you look at me, yeonjun. friends don’t act like they’re the only ones who matter in the world. you’ve given me so much hope, and it’s tearing me apart not knowing where we stand.”

his eyes widened, and he took a step back, clearly caught off guard by your outburst. “i… i didn’t realize you felt this way. i never meant to hurt you.”

“then what did you mean, yeonjun?” you demanded, your voice rising. “why did you give me your jacket when i was cold? why did you stay up with me all those nights, talking about everything and nothing? why did you make me feel like i was special, like i meant something more to you?”

he looked away, guilt and confusion clouding his features. “i care about you, y/n. i care about you a lot. but there are things in my life that make it complicated. things i can’t control.”

“what things?” you pressed, desperation seeping into your voice. “what could possibly be so complicated that you can’t be honest with me?”

he ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his every movement. “it’s not that simple. there are expectations, responsibilities… things you don’t know about.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, the person who had become so important to you. “then help me understand, yeonjun. because right now, it feels like you’re playing with my feelings, and it’s killing me.”

he sighed, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. “i’m sorry, y/n. i never wanted to hurt you. but i don’t think i can give you the answers you’re looking for.”

the finality in his words hit you like a punch to the gut. you had hoped for clarity, for a resolution that would either bring you closer together or allow you to move on. instead, you were left with more questions and a heart full of pain.

“i can’t keep doing this, yeonjun,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i can’t keep hoping for something that might never happen.”

he reached out as if to touch your hand, but you stepped back, the distance between you feeling like an insurmountable chasm. “i’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely audible.

with tears streaming down your face, you turned and walked away, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the empty night. the memories of your time with yeonjun played in your mind like a bittersweet melody, each note a reminder of what could have been.

months had passed since that painful confrontation with yeonjun. the ache in your heart hadn't completely faded, but keeping your distance had become a coping mechanism, a way to slowly detach yourself from what could never be.

you focused on your studies and threw yourself into activities with friends, trying to fill the void left by yeonjun's absence. it wasn't easy. thoughts of him lingered in the quiet moments, in the spaces between laughter and conversation.

one afternoon, you found yourself walking through the campus courtyard, lost in your thoughts. the air was crisp with the promise of autumn, leaves crunching underfoot as students hurried to their next classes. you glanced up, and there he was—yeonjun, standing near the library entrance, his gaze fixed on something in the distance.

your breath caught in your throat. it had been so long since you had seen him up close, since you had allowed yourself to acknowledge the pain he had caused. part of you wanted to turn and walk away, to retreat into the safety of avoidance. but another part, a stubborn part, urged you to confront the lingering emotions once and for all.

as if sensing your presence, yeonjun turned. his eyes met yours, and in that moment, everything unsaid passed between you. there were no words, just the weight of regret and longing etched into your gazes.

you saw it in his eyes—the same regret mirrored in your own. the pain of what could have been, of the misunderstandings and unspoken truths that had driven you apart. for a fleeting second, you both stood there, frozen in time, suspended between what was and what could have been.

but reality intervened. a passing student bumped into you, breaking the spell. yeonjun looked away first, his shoulders slumping imperceptibly. you took a step back, the distance between you suddenly feeling insurmountable once again.

with a heavy heart, you turned and continued on your way, the memory of his eyes haunting you. it was a silent goodbye, a final acknowledgment of the love that had never quite found its voice.

gyo's note: hi! this is my first time posting my work here, a feedback will help me work on my writing more, i've been enjoying the song pleasure delayer these days and i just can't help but write a story about it (and yj happens to suit the way i wanted the male character to be written!) i hope you enjoy reading this, xoxo.

✮ 2024 gyozies, all rights reserved.

[taytrashmouth]

The summer I’ve waited for

Jeremiah fisher x female reader

TW: drinking, swearing.

Description: you’ve been friends with Jeremiah forever, back in Boston you are inseparable, what happens when he invites you to cousins this summer

———————————————————————

You met Jeremiah at school when you were 12, he’s always been funny and kind, he was nice to you when no one else was.

You were best friends since the first moment you met, the only thing that sucked was that he was never around for summer.

But this year, at 16 he invited you with, Susannah was so happy you were coming with, Belly would have a girlfriend and she loved you like her own.

The drive down to cousins was long, Conrad drove, Susannah scrolled through her phone in the passengers seat while you sat in the back with Jeremiah.

Your leg was bouncing up and down rapidly, what if it was awkward, what if belly didn’t like you, what if you ruined the perfect summers Jeremiah spoke of so often-

Your thoughts were broken when jere put his hand on your bouncing leg.

“Hey what’s wrong?” He frowned.

“Just nervous.” You shook your head.

“It’ll be so fun having you around, and I already know belly will love you, besides you’ll have me by your side, you’re stuck with me for three whole months.”

You couldn’t help but smile, he had no idea how much you liked him, he was the only boy you’d liked for 5 years. Spending 3 months with him sounded like heaven.

When you arrived Jeremiah showed you your room, right across from his. The house was gorgeous and the sound of the waves was magical.

You sat outside by the pool looking out at the ocean once you’d unpacked. Absolutely mesmerized.

It wasn’t until you saw Conrad, Jeremiah and Steven (you’d seen him in photos) throwing belly into the pool while she kicked and screamed.

“You guys that wasn’t funny.” Belly spoke.

“Yeah guys not cool.” You walked behind both Conrad and Jeremiah, hands around their waists. As they both turned to look at you, you pushed as hard as you could pushing them both in too.

They both yelled and you and belly laughed.

“I love her!” Belly laughed and smiled at Jeremiah, gesturing to you.

“Yeah me too.” He smiled subtly and looked down at the water, making you blush.

It was a few days later that you sat at the kitchen island waiting to watch a movie with belly and the moms that belly said something that surprised you.

“You know I’m so happy i finally got to meet you cause you’re like really cool, and because jere talks about you non-stop, he thinks you’re so smart and he tells us all these stories about you being like the coolest person.” Belly rambled.

“All good things I hope.” You chuckled, blushing slightly. “ I’m sure he doesn’t talk about me that much.”

“No there was a point I wanted to be you, and I hadn’t even seen your photo- I was like 12 but still”

You both giggled.

Summer went on, you went to parties with jere and he taught you how to play beer pong, you both sang karaoke at this tiki bar on Saturdays, he showed you all of his favorite spots in cousins. Late night drives and long walks on the beach.

Everything was perfect except you couldn’t help but feel that he loved belly…..and it hurt.

But there were moments where you allowed yourself to dream, to feel as though he liked you back.

The night by the pool when lover came on the speaker and you smiled at the sound of your favorite song.

“Let’s dance.” Jeremiah spoke. You looked up at him as he stood up and held out his hand. “You need to practice anyway.” Referring to the deb ball, belly begged you to do it with her.

You didn’t know how the hell to find a date, you only liked, and wanted one guy.

You smiled and gave him your hand. He pulled you up and held your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and you began to sway. He spun you around slowly once or twice but soon it was just the two of you in this moment, looking into each others eyes.

“You’re a good dancer.” You whispered.

“I have a good partner.” He smiled, both of your cheeks burning.

Then there was the day you tried on your debutante dress, you looked in your bedroom mirror, only seeing the parts of yourself you hated.

That’s when Jere barged in with a smile, rambling about something Steven just did, but when you turned around he stopped dead.

“Holy shit…” he let out.

“I know-“ your voice was laced with insecurities but he didn’t let you fished before moving closer and making you spin around.

“You’re perfect.” He smiled and held your cheeks, you leaned into his touch wishing this moment would last.

Tears filled your eyes, he was healing all your wounds, damage he didn’t even cause.

“Thank you.” You smiled back.

When Taylor came out for belly’s birthday she bought belly a purple swimsuit, she had a pink one and she had bought you a dark blue one, because she knew belly liked you, and wanted you to be included.

You were insecure, people at school had bullied you your whole life, your weight fluctuated a lot and you weren’t exactly comfortable in a bikini.

When you didn’t go down to the pool after about 20mins jere came to look for you…

He found you in your bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror in your new bikini with tears running down your cheeks

“Hey hey hey, what’s wrong?” He asked with a frown, immediately pulled you into his chest.

You hugged him tightly and he stroked your hair.

“I hate it.” You chocked.

“What? What do you hate?” He held your shoulders looking at your face now.

“Me, they way I look, fuck, I look like a whale compared to them.”

Jeremiah almost laughed.

“Them? Belly and taylor?”

“Yeah and like every other girl at this stupid beach.” You cried more, but he wiped away the tears that fell.

“Turn around.” He smiled, you grumpily spun.

“Exactly what I thought, no sign of a whale…and y/n….you’re hot, don’t tell belly or Taylor I said this but you’re like way hotter than them.” He exclaimed.

You chocked a laugh.

“Really?” You frowned again.

“Definitely.” He hugged you again, and made jokes as you washed your face before following him back to the pool.

“I found her!!! She was trying to make sure she was still hotter than all of us.” He joked as you walked out the doors to the pool.

Taylor smiled, “I knew that bikini was your color, it’s literally so hot.” Belly nodded in agreement.

Steven gawked at you as you climbed into the pool and belly hit him on the head.

It wasn’t until you were walking along the beach as the sun set, a week till the deb ball and still you had no date.

“Hey!” Jeremiah called as he ran down the beach to catch up.

“Hey.” You smiled back.

You talked about a lot of things as the sun began to set.

“Still no date?” He asked.

You shook your head,

“Seriously? I don’t believe no one’s asked you.” He spoke as if you were the most precious thing that any guy would want.

You shook your head again, a few guys had asked, but you didn’t really want to go with them. So you told them no.

You continued to talk about the ball.

“Mom told Conrad to ask Belly, but I think she’ll be pissed if she finds out he didn’t actually want to ask her you know?” He spoke.

“Yeah, I’d be pissed if that happened to me.”

“That’s why I swore off these things, drama creating nonsense, I’d only make an exception for this one girl-“ he spoke slowly but you cut him off.

“Yeah, it sucks that Conrad’s taking her-“

“What?” He stopped walking.

“You like belly….don’t you?” You frowned.

He scoffed and looked off to the side.

“You’re really really dumb for someone with straight A’s, you know that?” He asked.

You frowned even more.

“I’d make an exception for you n/n….”

Your whole world stopped for a minute, looking into his ocean eyes.

“I’m just waiting for you to ask me……” he looked at his feet.

“I didn’t ask because I needed to know you wanted this, I couldn’t do it because i could never forgive myself if I screwed this up, us…” he looked back up at you.

Your heart was pounding, your head was exploding and your stomach erupted with butterflies.

“Will you go to the ball with me Jere?” You smiled.

He sighed with relief and smiled the biggest you e ever seen.

“Fuck yes!!!!” He wrapped his arms around you and spun you in the air before putting you down.

You laughed, feeling on top of the world.

“You sure about this?” He asked looking down at you.

“It’s been five years of crushing, I’m sure.” You joked.

“Good because I really want to kiss you.” He smiled.

He leaned in and your lips met, it was like two pieces of a puzzle. So passionate yet soft. This was the summer you’d always wanted, the summer you waited for.

As you broke apart for air you both smiled and entangled your hands, and you walked home in the dark, waves crashing against your ankles.

“I liked you before we were even friends you know.” Jeremiah spoke up.

“What?”

“Yeah, I saw you in the hallway one day and I knew, that the pretty girl by locker 34 was going to be my wife one day.”

You smiled, and laughed with him, as you swing your hands back and forth.

“Really? I still had braces….why me?” You asked with a frown.

“Because I love you, you idiot!” He yelled, he turned and kissed you for the second time that night. You smiled into the kiss, and the waves crashed into your calves.

“I love you too…I always have.” You told him. “And I’m not sure about ‘wife’ just yet, but I’m just waiting for you to ask me..” you quoted his words from earlier.

He smiled and got down on one knee, his shorts were wet and your dress was blowing in the wind. You threw your head back in a smile.

“Y/n l/n, will you make me the happiest golden retriever and be my girlfriend,”

“Fuck yes!!!!”

He got up and you held onto each other like it was the last time you’d hug.

When you arrived back at the house, he dragged you up to his room, rummaging in his drawer to find something.

“I uh- I got this for your birthday last year, but I chickened out of giving it to you because I though it might overstep a boundary or something.” He explained as he sat next to you on his bed and handed you a box.

You carefully took off the lid and revealed a sliver locket, the letter J engraved on the front, you opened it up and on the left was a picture on Jeremiah giving you a piggy back ride, both of you smiling so widely. And on the right the lyrics ‘at every table I’ll save you a seat’ were engraved in cursive.

You closed the locket and stared at the J, then at him, tears in your eyes.

“Because I really know you.” He pointed at his initial.

You smiled, tears falling.

“I love you, you’re perfect.” You smiled, looking at his beautiful eyes, and smile, thinking of how thoughtful he was, how kind, how funny, he was yours, and you were his.

He helped you out the necklace on, and you never took it off

[esmedelacroix]

11 days til' Christmas

ot8!ateez and their drunken habits on christmas ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

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Hongjoong - The Clingy One

You were at Hongjoong's childhood house for the holidays celebrating Christmas with his family. There was a reason Hongjoong didn’t like drinking too much around his group members but you didn’t know what it was.

You would find out this Christmas when you made him a cocktail. Hongjoong’s family naturally welcomed you with open arms after he had made the revelation that you were a bartender.

They were tired of just drinking plain soju every year. When you got into the kitchen you made a multitude of holiday-themed alcoholic beverages.

“Here you go,” you said as you slid Hongjoong his fifth dirty snowman(spiked hot chocolate) of the night.

He was so lost in conversation with his cousins that he didn’t realize how much he had been drinking. That was until he wrapped his arm around your waist and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. “You good?” you asked him as you continued to make a drink for his mom.

“Yeah,” he murmured into your neck.

It was sweet but very out of character for him. He was very touchy but usually in private. You turned to look at him, noticing that he had the worst flush you had ever seen.

“Oh my god, Hongjoong, are you drunk?” you asked between giggles.

“Nooooo,” he denied as he hugged you again and kissed your neck.

“Yea you are,” you said laughing.

“Ugh, that’s how my boy always is, always hugging and saying ‘I love you’ when he’s drunk,” his mother chuckled as she came into the kitchen.

“You’re not going to be able to get him off of you for the rest of the night,” his cousin chimed in.

Although it was uncommon for Hongjoong to be this affectionate in public places it felt kind of nice.

On top of being clingy, he also got very quiet and gloomy when you weren't around and tried to lock himself in the cabinet??!!

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Seonghwa - The Sleepy Beauty

The electricity was out and you and Seonghwa were curled up in front of your fireplace wrapped in a blanket building a Lego Death Star while keeping each other warm.

It was the most brutal snowstorm of the year. You could hear the screams and shouts of little children playing outside in the snow. The sounds of sleds racing down the hill you lived on and the drip, drip, drop of the tap in the kitchen never really stopped. We have to get that checked out, you thought to yourself

You and Seonghwa made it a mission to try and finish the eggnog that was sitting in the fridge before it went bad. Once you got tired of the taste, you both decided to go for the wine instead. It was Christmas anyway.

"Finally," you sighed as the two of you finally finished the Death Star as well as two bottles of red wine.

"It looks amazing right Seonghwa?" you asked after hearing no response you felt something touch your lap.

Seonghwa had passed out just from drinking some wine. Or maybe you just could hold alcohol a lot better than he could. You felt really bad that you didn't slow down and make sure that he was okay.

You ran your hands through his hair slowly. You heard him hum at the relaxing feeling. "You're awake?" you asked.

"Hmm," he answered confirming he was still awake.

"Oh goodness, I thought you passed out," you sighed in relief.

You handed him water to help him sober up. He was still just very tired. You vaguely remember Hongjoong talking about how quiet and tired Seonghwa got whenever he was drunk.

The two of you curled up by the fireplace and napped for almost the rest of the day, it was one of your best Christmas' yet.

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

Yunho - The (Bad)Dancer

Once all the Christmas festivities came to an end and both of your families left your place you and Yunho were gassed. Of course, you enjoyed having both your families over but it was no easy feat hosting a holiday celebration.

Thankfully they had all left quite early but the two of you were bored and seeking some excitement. What better place to go than to a bar on Christmas night?

Most weren't open for the holidays but one was. The bar was mostly full of singles moping over beers, and old men watching soccer matches on the TV because half of the town lost their electricity.

The two of you took a seat at the bar together. "Is that really you?" Sang-hee, your best friend and owner of the bar, quipped as she gave Yunho a nod hello.

"Merry Christmas Sang-hee, can we start with two milk and cookie shots and two Mrs. Claws Cocktails," you asked as you put your purse down.

"Of course, that on the house, but what are you two doing at a bar on Christmas night? Should you be getting freaky deaky by the fireplace?" she asked as you made your drinks.

The two of you laughed at her teasing feeling the heat rise up to your cheeks. "Just give us our drinks Snag-hee," you said, rolling your eyes playfully.

The two of you finished your drinks while talking your heads off with Sang-hee joining in occasionally. "Sang-hee, two peppermint bark shots please," Yunho said, feeling all giddy and tingly getting buzzed.

"I don't think I'll drink anymore, I still need to drive," you said as you sipped your water.

"Then I'll drink for you," Yunho reassured as he took your shot.

He started to stagger a bit and slur his words and you realized that it was probably time to go home. You turned to face Yunho but he was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, have you seen-," you started before being interrupted by lots of laughter and clapping behind you.

Once you turned toward the commotion, you saw your husband dancing like a lunatic on the dance floor. You let out a sigh and watched him dance his heart out. It was a common occurrence for him to start dancing when he was wasted but it was never good.

Every time you told him that he danced when he was drunk, he never believed you. So you took the liberty to take out your phone and videotape him dancing.

Once he began to trip over his own feet you knew it was definitely time to take him home. You draped his arm over your shoulder and helped him walk out as the whole bar cheered for him and asked for one more performance.

As you drove him home he still continued to bob his head violently to the music playing and you couldn't help but laugh to yourself.

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Yeosang - The Nonsense Texter

It was the first Christmas since you started dating Yeosang that you had to do it long distance. After your own Christmas celebrations, you got into bed and texted Yeosang. You had seen in his story that he had gone drinking with his group members that night.

You: yeosangie! how was your Christmas?

Yeosang: g

Yeosang: goo

You: what?

Yeosang: D u lov me?

You: um yes?

Yeosang: rely?

You: yes, are you drunk?

You laughed to yourself in your bed realizing that he was definitely drunk. It was very uncommon for Yeosang. He held his alcohol very well, you had only ever seen him drunk on occasion but you never took him for a drunken texter.

Yeosang: who i this?

You: It's me babe 😭❤️

Yeosang: what?

You: yeosangie?

Yeosang: ples stob it, only my girfrend calls me tha

You: i am your girlfriend...

Yeosang: o, hi baby

You chuckled to yourself at his texting. He barely made any sense. You took some screenshots just in case he tried to delete the messages out of embarrassment.

You: i'm going to let you sleep now, gn

Yeosang: who is thi?

You chuckled putting your phone away, getting ready for bed. You were so ready to tease him about it in the morning.

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San - The flirt

Christmas was definitely interesting with San staying at your house. You asked him to be on his best behavior at home but your parents didn't really mind with playful manner.

It was your first time bringing a boyfriend home, especially for such an important holiday.

Your parents were ecstatic that you were bringing a boy home and took every chance to embarrass you. Whether it was your dad telling him about your failed attempts at dating in high school or your mom showing him your baby and puberty photos.

San teased you about your emo phase throughout Christmas Eve dinner and you swore to get your revenge once you went to his parents’ place for New Year's.

Christmas Day was always hectic at your house. You were always cooking dishes and making sure everyone looked good for photos.

That Christmas you would be the one to make dessert and you dragged San into your endeavors. The two of you finally agreed on making strawberry swirl cheesecake after much debating.

At your shared apartment you and San always cooked while drinking wine so you did just that. San had a bit too much to drink but he was having a good time at dinner.

Your father kept filling his wine glass and he felt bad saying no so he just kept drinking. San would usually just be all lovey-dovey with you when he was drunk so you wouldn’t mind your family seeing him wasted.

To your surprise, he put his arm around your mom’s shoulders and kept on trying to make advances. It was entertaining, to say the least, he didn’t do anything crazy but he had mistaken your mom for you.

The two of you did look alike but she was flattered at how young he thought she looked.

It took you shaking his shoulder and reminding you of your existence, for him to stop flirting with your literal mother.

Your dad thought it was cute and your family couldn’t stop laughing about it even the next day. Once they had informed San about it he was humiliated. You poked fun at him about it, giving him the karma he deserved for making fun of your emo era.

In the bed, he got what he deserved but you concluded that you couldn’t take your flirty drunk boyfriend anywhere.

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Mingi - The Walking Speaker

You and Mingi were ready for Christmas. There were gifts under the tree. All the shopping was done and the house was prepared to receive your friends and family for the holidays.

The two of you finally plopped down on your couch and popped open a bottle of wine to share. The two of you silently enjoyed each other’s presence cuddled on the couch.

Mingi didn’t usually drink alcohol. He had made an effort not to drink years ago but he occasionally drank with you and his closest friends from time to time.

He got drunk pretty quickly. He often talked about holding his alcohol well but once he drank a bit he was wasted.

You decided to put the bottle away and join Mingi on the couch. You could decide on a Christmas movie to watch. You wanted to watch “Love Hard”(one of the best Christmas movies ever) and Mingi wanted to watch “Love Actually”(the worst Christmas ‘romance’ film to ever exist).

You decided to just let Mingi choose any movie but “Love Actually” and he chose to watch “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” The two of you were polar opposites when it came to romance films. You had the correct opinions and he had the wrong ones.

He liked, “The Notebook” and “Lala Land”(most overhyped romances) You loved, “It’s a Boy Girl Thing” and “Dirty Dancing”(best movies ever).

Halfway through the scene in the Grinch’s layer, Mingi yells, “Oh no, is he going steal Christmas?”

“Oh my god, you scared me,” you said placing a hand over your pounding heart.

"Sorry!" he shouted right in your ear laughing at your reaction.

“Oh Mingi, must you always be this loud?” you complained leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Jagiya, let’s play a game,” he suggested pausing the movie.

“Okay,” you said skeptically.

You knew exactly what game he was talking about and you let out an exaggerated sigh. Mingi’s favorite game to play when he was drunk was a game where you yell in the other person's face and see who does it louder.

So you spent the next minute yelling in each other's faces before you rested your head in his lap unable to contain your laughter.

“Okay that’s enough,” you chuckled.

The two of you continued the movie along with Mingi’s loud and unhinged reactions to the Grinch ruining Christmas for all the whos in Whoville.

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Wooyoung - The Gossip/Eavsdropper

You were having lunch with Wooyoung after a successful day of last-minute Christmas Eve shopping. "Feels so good to be done," you sighed after the two of you ordered your food.

"Finishing Christmas shopping should be a celebration in itself, so I ordered us a bottle," Wooyoung replied.

"Seriously? The plan wasn't to get day drunk," you joked, shaking your head at him.

"We won't get day drunk, I hold my liquor pretty well," he said.

"That's what you say every single time. Then I end up having to haul your ass into the car," you teased.

"Well not this time," he assured.

But then it was one glass. Then two, then one more.

You only had a bit because you knew you would be driving the two of you home. Wooyoung wasn't all that crazy when he was drunk he acted almost completely normal. Almost.

"Did you hear that?" he asked.

You shook your head about to ask him what he was talking about but he violently shushed you. He listened to something attentively for a minute before finally turning back to you.

"The two girls behind us are seeing the same guy," he whispered.

"No way," you gasped.

"I don't like to gossip but I think one of them is his wife and the other is the mistress," he said, leaving you completely gagged.

"And get this, the mistress is 15 years younger than him," he started.

"No," you said in denial.

"And they're both in on it, they're planning to share his money when the geezer dies," he continued.

"You gotta be kidding me," you denied as you sipped your mocktail.

"Because the two women are seeing each other, they're dating behind the guy's back," he finished.

Your mouth was hanging open, you were completely gagged and impressed at his eavesdropping skills.

"But I'm not gossiping," he said.

"Yes you are, you always do when you’re drunk," you teased, getting ready to leave.

"I am not drunk," he rebutted as he took your hand and slid it into his pocket to keep you warm.

You leaned your head on his shoulder before saying, "I love you,"

"Babe, I think I'm drunk," he replied.

You laughed at his very late realization and enjoyed your afternoon with him as he gossiped some more.

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Jongho - The Liar

Christmas dinner with your boyfriend Jongho and his group members was a tradition that you always looked forward to. It was nice to see Jongho interact with his friends.

Even more fun to drink alcohol with all of them. You had never ever seen Jongho drunk, maybe a little tipsy but never drunk. The goal every year was to outdrink him but you always got wasted way before him and ended up having to go home early.

It was ironic how he was the youngest out of all of his group members and could still outdrink all of them. He was the oldest and the youngest in a way.

The two of you were running a little late but when you finally arrived you were greeted with smiles and hugs from everyone. All of you sat and exchanged gifts and got straight to partying.

Once everyone but Jongho(of course) was pretty much buzzed and all of you were tired of the drinking games you started talking about their latest comeback.

"The tour was so crazy, did you see how Wooyoung put the cake in Hongjoong's face?" Mingi chuckled.

"Yeah, I saw the video, it was hilarious," you laughed.

"Yeah, did you also see when we performed with Beyoncé?" Jongjo asked.

"What?! You guys met Beyoncé?" you asked, extremely shocked that you were never informed of this.

"Yeah we're working on a song with her don't tell anyone though," he revealed nonchalantly.

You looked around at his members in shock. They all nodded along holding in laughter and Mingi confirmed it was true with a snicker.

"What? Why are you guys laughing?" you asked cluelessly.

"He's tipsy," Yeosang said.

Jongho? Tipsy? Your Jongho, was tipsy?

"He lies when he's intoxicated," Yeosang explained.

You never thought you'd live to see the day he was drunk. You found it so cute that he couldn’t tell the truth when he was drunk either.

Sharing this moment with him was the best Christmas gift ever. Even though he still ended up having to carry you up the stairs because you had passed out.

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