#like i’m actually almost hoping it works out a certain way but also??
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gregmarriage · 1 year ago
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cool. have you ever considered the fact that i am scared™️
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cathnospam · 1 month ago
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Continuing from This Drabble about you and your BF Katsuki answering sex questions about each other<3
Black Female Reader x Katsuki Bakugo , mentions of panty stealer bakugo, slight smut???
“Okay uh, how do you rate your partners kisses 1-10.”
“9”
“9?! Muthafucka I taught you how to kiss—-“
“You always push back first like you can’t handle it, it pisses me off.”
“I like breathing.”
“So.”
Rolling your eyes, “I was ganna say 12/10, but since you’re being a bitch—“
“So, 12/10 got it. Next.”
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“Does your partner have any dirty secrets?…oooh.—-”
“M’going to bed.” Bakugo immediately gets up to take off his tank top seeing as he was going to sleep in your dorm tonight, but as the shirt clung to his semi flexing biceps you grab him, “No, y/n.”
“Oh c’mon boy are the secrets THAT bad?! I’ll tell you mine at least—-fuck.” He considers for a moment. Curiosity weighing heavier than his will to sleep at the moment, “You ass.”
“What did you call me—“
“I think…” You place two fingers on his soft lips, “One secret is that……….one time, when you were out on work study you left your black tank top in my room….and….i missed you….and i was ovulating so i….put on your tank top and ….played…with myself.”
The air was thick, it’s as if Bakugo took it as he grew closer to you while speaking, there wasn’t much to make him speechless but dammit that’s a new one.
Fuck. That’s actually more sexier than he wants to admit right now. He crossed his legs, hoping a tent won’t form in his grey sweats and noticed your eyes wandering at every part of your room but his eyes.
“I…moaned your name too.”
“You…you damn….pervert fuck—-“ His voice almost broke into a groan, looking away also embarrassed you knew he didn’t mean it in a malicious way from how he looked back at you, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down, “Stop acting fucking weird. You did it. Who cares. As long as it was MY name you moaned.”
“Of course dumbass. I only want you…”
Bakugo felt his ears burning, already annoyed he was flustered once he groaned, “I took your panties once.”
“What?”
“Why the hell would you wear that lacy frilly shit during class in that short ass skirt? It’s like you want those idiots to see you.”
“That CANNOT be the reason—“
“IT IS. If you’re ganna wear ‘em wear them IN OUR dorms you dumbass.”
“…well.”
“Well what.” He pouts.”
“Well where the fuck are they I like wearing them after I get waxed.”
Bakugo hesitates, not wanting to actually answer mainly because he doesn’t just have ONE pair of panties. But a few. “I’ll show you later.”
“Tch.” You mock his sounds, “Ever use ‘em to masturbate?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
You giggle, you can only imagine what his perverted ass has done with them. And the last time you seen them was in your hamper so you assumed they got lost somewhere in the laundry. Honestly it’s kinda….interesting he’s telling you this.
“Does your partner have any no’s during?”
“I’m not calling you a bitch.”
“Aw.” You sarcastically sigh, “Why.”
“Why the hell would I call you out your name—“
“You called me your slut yesterday.”
“…Slip of the tongue.” He crosses his arms like a child, making you giggle. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize it was hot.” You say adjusting yourself closer to him, you could actually feel the heat from his body rise as you kept speaking, “It’s fine. Degrading isn’t something I’d need from you anyway.”
“I don’t get that kink, who the hell likes to be disrespected by someone they…are y’know with.”
You shrug, you understand why certain people have kinks, but it’s hard to put in words for someone like Katsuki. He’s a very simple man when it comes to relationships. Almost traditional and old fashion which is what charmed you the most about him. He never even called you a bitch before in any sense nor has he ever told you anything that would genuinely hurt your feelings, “Some people are just into that.” You concluded, your boyfriend looks at you with an unresolved look, but accepts it anyway. Weirdos.
“I wouldn’t hit you either. Like in the face or anything. Only on the ass”
“Good because my face is too pretty for that.” Katsuki smirks at you, you’re absolutely right you’re too pretty for him to hit.
“Nobody else.”
“Hm?”
“…Nobody else is allowed to join us.”
Squinting for a moment his statement clicks , “OH! No threesomes and stuff. Oh yeah of course not. If I see you with any other girl I’ll kill you and her.”
Katsuki swallowed his laughter, masking it with a clearing of his throat, your eyes not tearing from his making sure he knew you were serious. You don’t scare him typically, but he knew the moments when you genuinely had an aura about you that screamed “Fucking try to play with me.” And this was one of those moments. “You look at me like I didn’t just fucking say —“
“I know.” Your voice cracked a little trying to cover up the jealous tone you were about to spew out. Just the thought of Katsuki touching another girl had you upset.
Little did you know it was the same for him with you.
“Anything else?”
“I won’t do race or age play.”
“What the hell…?—-“
“Well I am black so obviously no and then you have age play which is just a cute way of saying you like children—-“
“WHAT?”
You pause to cover up his loud mouth with your small hands, “SSSHH! Before we get in trouble again!…anyway moving on!”
Not wanting to argue, he takes your laptop and smacks your hand away, “What is something you DONT like that your partner does during sex.”
“Take my laptop away from me.”
He strikes you and look, he doesn’t say anything verbally but he says “quit fucking around” with his eyes, admitting defeat that he won’t give you back your laptop you sit back and think for a moment.
“Eh…Oh! I don’t like that you won’t let me ride you.”
Damn it.
He had a feeling you’d say that too. Bakugo scratches the back of his neck roughly while letting out a groan. Throwing his head back a little he side eyes you, “Why do you wanna be on top so bad. I’m the man I should—“
“It’s not even about dominating you or anything you can still fuck me from below, ‘Suki. You’ll still have all the power.”
Bakugo has seen porn videos where the guy fucks up into the girl. Even some where the man is straight up holding the girl up and pumps her full. It’s so erotic he couldn’t even finish the video, but even though he enjoys vanilla sex, he is quite certain riding him isn’t too far off from what he likes.
Besides he loves having your tits bounce in his face and feeling your nipples practically bounce into his mouth makes up of great reason.
“…Fine. But when I’M ready.”
“Yaaaayy mkay….now what is something YOU don’t like about me.”
“You’re ganna be pissed.”
Your smiles immediately transforms into a straighten line, “Uh oh.”
“I don’t …like when you cum too fast.”
It was a bit embarrassing yet confusing to hear. Clearly that means he’s doing a good job so why —
“Because I want to keep fucking you.” Bakugo speaks up as if he read your inner thoughts, all you could do was blink a few times at him, and he continued more, “Even though I don’t cum until after you do which isn’t that long, sometimes I wanna keep going. I’ve timed it, the moment I start fucking you sex only last about 6-8 minutes.”
“That’s average. Some people are 2-3 minutes.” You spoke with an unimpressed and deadpanned voice mostly because this sounded ludicrous to you and Bakugo seen it in your expression causing him to sigh in annoyance. “Shouldn’t your ego be filled knowing you make me cum fast?”
“Yeah, but —-fuck sue me for wanting more. And don’t say some shit like I’m a nympho or some shit because that’s fucking disgusting and those freaks are usually only in a relationship to fuck—-“
“OKAY OKAY CALM DOWN, BOY!” His voice kept getting louder and louder and you refused to have another write up because you have him in your dorm past curfew…again. “I get it though.”
“You want to be overstimulated.”
What? Bakugo scrunched yo his eyebrows. He never heard that term before used when talking about sex.
“Overstimulated means …well… showing you is actually better than telling you.”
In an instant Bakugo’s furrowed eyebrows soften, his gaze transitioned from confused to darker and subtly lustful. You felt the vibe of the room change so quickly you practically had to clear your throat to make him focus again.
“So the next question…”
“Nah, show me.” He firmly shuts your computer and places it on your nightstand. Arms still crossed, “Show me what that word means or should I look up a video and figure it out myself.”
“….y’can.”
It wasn’t ideal for your evening to end like this with him, but it’s just you and your slightly horny boyfriend watching porn videos.
What’s the worse that can happen?
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dearsnow · 6 months ago
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YOUR BAR BOYFRIEND
- after being harassed by a drunken stranger, your bar boyfriend swoops in to save the day (bob floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is intended to be on the quieter/more introverted side, but if you’re not like that you can ignore that one line ⚠️ verbal sexual harassment, drinking).
PART 2
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word count: 1,206
a/n - tell a friend to tell a friend… SHE’S BAAACKKKK!!!! i’m so glad to be back to writing, y’all have no idea how much i missed it. i’ll probably be a bit rusty until i find my rhythm, so please ignore the not-top-quality writing until then. also, feel free to send in requests or chat!!
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“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I have a boyfriend.” You utter apologetically, side-stepping the arm of the man in front of you. He reeks of beer and a hard day’s work, his scruffy face all too unkept in the lighting of the bar. You can’t even fathom exactly why you’re in the bar in the first place- you’ve never been one to explore, but this man is making you feel like you never want to leave your house again.
Your eyes scan the room, but no one seems to notice your predicament. The bar is full of Navy men, surely one of them would be fine with pretending to help you. “C’mon, sugar, one drink. Thas’ all ya have to do. If it goes well, hey, I wouldn’t mind one fuck either.” He grins, winking. The hope that you held in your heart is quickly dissipating. “He don’t have to know.” You feel your stomach drop as he moves to grab your hand, but an firm grip shoves his fingers away instead.
“Honey, is this guy bothering you?” A voice behind you speaks. You quickly turn around.
“I… yeah.” You stutter. You’re staring right into the face of a guy in a uniform, his jaw set as he glares at the drunk through his glasses.
He moves in front of you, creating a physical barrier between you and the significantly shorter man. Relief floods you. “Then I think he’d better leave before someone kicks him out, huh?”
The intoxicated man rolls his eyes, but frantically shuffles out the door of the bar. His gait was evidently terrified.
The tension is pulled from your shoulders, and you unintentionally sigh. The guy with glasses turns around to face you. His expression is softer now that the threat is gone, and his concern is almost cute.
“Are you alright?” He asks. “I’m sorry for the pet name thing, but I overheard you and I couldn’t really just stand there and watch. I’m Bob, by the way, Bob Floyd.” He reaches his hand out for you to shake, and as you do, his hesitates through his rambling.
You smile at him. “Thank you, Bob, I’m fine. And I don’t mind.” His grip is firm but not crushing, just like his presence. You introduce yourself, and he nods like he’s desperate to commit the sound of your name to memory. The respectful tone is honestly a breath of fresh air with the raucous energy of the Hard Deck, causing your cheeks to be a few degrees warmer when you pull your hand away. Our of the corner of your eye, you can see him wipe his somewhat clammy hands on the sides of his pants.
“Also, I’m sorry for taking the place of your actual boyfriend. I assumed you just didn’t know where he was, so I stepped in.” His eyes search for your own, holding steady eye contact. They’re the prettiest shade of blue you’ve ever seen.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. I don’t actually have a boyfriend, but I thought a lie was the better choice. You saved me, and that’s all that matters.” Your voice has a certain breathy quality to it. You’ve completely transitioned from terror to being deeply attracted to the person who spared you an even more intense confrontation. Bob’s eyes widen just slightly.
He takes his hands away from his sides and motions to one of the tables in the corner, his face just the slightest bit pinker. “Would you want to sit down?”
You nod, and he leads the way. As he’s pulling out your chair for you, you can’t help but wonder how your night turned out this way. You went from having the worst night of your life to dizzily encountering the person you could only describe as being your bar boyfriend.
You just recently moved to this part of San Diego for a newfound job opportunity, completely unaware of your proximity to the Hard Deck and a Naval base. You didn’t know anyone or anything, and as someone who isn’t necessarily very outgoing, it was hard for you to adjust. Not even your coworkers were easy to make friends with, so you slowly became more and more isolated.
The bar was kind of your last resort. You didn’t expect to find anything great, and you still don’t know what compelled you to go, but some hidden part of you figured that at least you could get some form of entertainment. Finding Bob, though, you never expected.
Conversation feels easy with him. He seems like a quiet guy, but he knows exactly what to say to keep you talking, and he offers insights of his own that just further the subject you’re talking about. Words fly from your mouths, and you can say that you’ve never enjoyed talking more. You bounce from common topics like work and hobbies to deeper breakdowns of memories and experiences, your smile growing wider every second. You’re completely in a world that was built brick by brick for you and him.
You’re so lost in the moment that you don’t even notice the woman who rests her hand on the back of your chair until she speaks. “Bob, you of all people? Never would’ve expected you to abandon us for a pretty girl.”
Bob reddens as you turn to face her. “Sorry, Nat.”
She holds a hand out to you, which you shake. “Call me Phoenix. He’s my backseater, and apparently a lady killer tonight.”
Bob stands as Phoenix gives him a pointed look. “Sorry to steal him away from you, but he’s taken way too long of a break from our pool game. I’ll give him back to you later.”
“You say that like I’m a robot.” He grumbles, showing just a hint of disappointment at having to leave your conversation.
You wave him away. “Have fun, Bob. I’d better go anyways.”
“Wait-“ he starts as you stand up, “-could I give you my number first?”
You secretly cheer inside of your head. You nod, and he takes a pen out of his shirt pocket. “Here.” He mumbles, writing it on a spare napkin and handing it to you. His fingers brush over yours, sending electrifying sparks throughout your entire body. You could get used to this feeling, you think. His hand hovers for a split second before regretfully moving away. “It’s, uh, it’s up to you, but I’d really like it if you called or texted. I had a nice time with you.”
You tuck the napkin into your bag, eyes soft. Bob thinks he’s never seen a sight so beautiful- the sun is setting behind you, and it casts you in a golden light as your mouth quirks up. “Of course I will. I had a nice time with you too.”
Your voice is quiet, but a sound that he relishes all the same. He could’ve gotten lost in you if Phoenix wasn’t impatiently tapping her foot next to him.
She pulls him away, and though he knows he’s up for a lot of teasing, Bob can’t find it in himself to care. He just knows that he needs to see you again, and you know that no matter what, you’ll make it happen.
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gabseyoo · 9 days ago
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DON'T WASTE THE NIGHT — SAKUSA KIYOOMI
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content: college/university!au, halloween setting, female reader, virgin!kiyoomi, popular!reader, virginity loss, mutual pining, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, pretty vanilla but cute, mean girls references, kiyoomi might be a little occ, he’s shy :(, atsumu being atsumu. word count: 8,0k.
notes: yes i’m late to halloween but i don’t care :) it’s being so long since i posted a one shot and i had this idea for maybe a year, two (?), and i finally had the inspiration to write everythiiing. i’m happy with the result, i hope you like it too <3
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Halloween parties were not Kiyoomi's thing. Rather, no party at all. He didn't like the crowds, the drunks, or the excessive noise. But thanks to his group of friends (which he doesn't even remember how he ended up being a part of), staying away from parties was almost impossible, so it was already a common thing for him to be dragged to one every weekend where he would be counting the minutes to leave and drive all his drunk friends home. 
But, that was not the case tonight. 
Surprisingly, it was the first time Kiyoomi didn't want to leave a party, and that was thanks to a certain someone who had shown up at the Miya's Halloween party. 
"Just go talk to her." 
Kiyoomi almost jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of his personal headache, also known as Atsumu. 
"Who?" He asked, playing dumb because he knew perfectly well who the blond was referring to, and mentally slapped himself for not being more discreet.
Atsumu snorted, "Y/n. You're staring at her like a creep." He said, pointing his head in your direction across the room, where you were talking enthusiastically with your friend, dressed in a pink tracksuit. "I don't blame you. She's pretty."
Sakusa kept silent, trying to suppress his need to agree out loud, because of course you were pretty. More than pretty. 
"You like her, don't you?" 
Kiyoomi sighed heavily, obviously uncomfortable with the question. It was obvious he liked you. Very much. But he didn't trust Atsumu to be able to not make a big deal out of the fact that Sakusa liked someone, so he decided to answer his question with a dry: "No."
"Liar." The blond replied. "It's pretty obvious that you like her."
"I don't like her." He insisted, though he already knew it would be in vain, it wasn't for nothing he called Atsumu his headache.
"So you hate her and you're staring at her 'cause you're planning her murder?"
Jesuschrist.
"I'll be planning your murder if you don't shut up." 
Atsumu pursed his lips and Kiyoomi thanked god in his head. But the fake threat seemed to work only for a limited time, because the twin spoke again seconds later, making him roll his eyes.
"Don't you even think she's pretty?"
He let out a sigh in frustration, but agreed with the question because, c’mon, it will be a very blatant lie to deny the obvious, "She is." He admitted, "But I don't like her." 
"You do like her, there can't be any other reason why you were looking at her like that."
Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, is there a way to shut this guy down?
"Like what?" 
"Like you like her." 
"If I say so, will you shut the fuck up?" He blurted, resigned. 
"I knew it!" Atsumu exclaimed victoriously, and Kiyoomi just let out a sigh, cringing when the twin tapped him a little too hard on the shoulder as if he was congratulating him. "Wow. So Omi likes someone, huh, who knew." 
"Don't make a big deal out of it." 
"Omi, liking someone isn't a bad thing." He said in a more earnest manner, perhaps trying to show that he was actually serious and not joking about his friend’s situation. 
Kiyoomi closed his eyes for a moment and sighed before replying, "I know it's not."
"Then why don't you go and talk to her? She's in your class, isn't she? It wouldn't be weird. Maybe she likes you back."
The twin had a point. Sakusa sat behind you for two hours straight five days a week during a very boring class. While you might not call yourselves the best of friends, you could say you got along well— you would usually turn around to ask him if he understood the subject so he could explain it to you, borrow a pen or offer him a gum. Occasionally you would randomly show him your phone with something you thought was funny and there were even times when you would ask his opinion on which item to buy or which selfie to post, you would often have small conversations and even followed each other on Instagram. And, as a bonus, lately you had started walking together to the classroom exit at the end of class where you would say goodbye with a 'see you tomorrow'. 
But you liking him back? He didn't think he was that lucky.
Because, yes, maybe you weren't a stranger to Kiyoomi and he wasn't a stranger to you either, but contrary to what many believed, Sakusa Kiyoomi didn't have much experience with women, not even with having a crush on someone. The idea of talking to you outside the classroom made him nervous. You were too pretty and too charming and too popular and too hot and... out of his league.
There were times when he wondered if it was possible for you to like him? Okay, call him arrogant, but he knew he was nowhere near ugly, that was a point in his favor. But one point that was not in his favor was the fact that, yes, maybe he was good-looking, but the university was full of good-looking guys, who unlike him, were more... outgoing. Guys who smiled more and didn't have a grumpy attitude like he did, who weren't known for being rude, and who probably wouldn't think twice about asking for your number or inviting you on a date. And, honestly, he felt like one more in the very long list of men who have a crush on you. 
"It's just..." He started, but the words were lost in his throat.
"Just what?"
"She doesn't see me that way. Just leave it at that, okay?" He finished his sentence, taking a sip from the bottle of water he'd been carrying since he arrived. 
Atsumu folded his arms, glancing in your direction for a moment before making that smile that never meant anything good, "You know what? I have an idea." 
Kiyoomi panicked. "Miya, what are you gonna do?" 
"You'll thank me later." 
And just like that, Atsumu pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and before Sakusa could stop him, he started walking in your direction.
No. No. No. No. Kiyoomi's heart was going to escape from his chest. Fuck. He knew it was a bad idea to be honest with Atsumu. A. Fucking. Bad. Idea.
He watched frozen from his spot in the corner of the room the moment the blond approached you, greeting you and your friend casually before saying who knows what that made you look at him with confusion for a moment as you exchanged more words, but after something that left the blond's mouth, your face lit up with a smile. The interaction seemed to be going well, until the twin pointed— really fucking pointed—over his shoulder, and then, you connected your eyes with Kiyoomi’s for a moment. 
His feet began to move automatically. 
Towards the exit. 
He was so embarrassed. What did Atsumu say to you? What did you think? Fuck. He didn't even want to know. He was out of here, he'd move his seat to the other end of the classroom, or better yet, he'd never set foot in that class again, who cares if he had to repeat it next semester, that was better than looking you in the face after this.
"Where do you think you're goin'?" 
Sakusa was halfway to his car when he heard the twin's voice call out to him. 
"Home." 
Atsumu trotted up in front of him. "Come on. Don't be like that, listen-" 
"You fucking embarrassed me." He spat, pulling his keys out of his jacket roughly. 
"I didn't. I just did you a favor." Atsumu replied, crossing his arms proudly, which only raised Kiyoomi's anger levels.
Don't punch him. Don't punch him. Don't punch him.
"Fuck you, don't talk to me ever again."
"C'mon Kiyoomi, trust me. You think I'm capable of making a fool of you?" The twin asked with confidence in his voice. Kiyoomi simply looked at him, his silence explaining his answer, which caused Atsumu's smile to disappear. "Ouch." The twin brought a hand to his chest dramatically and Kiyoomi rolled his eyes before pressing a button on the control, removing the lock and alarm. 
He was barely about to open the car door when Atsumu spoke again. This time in a more serious tone, "Omi, I'm your friend. Just trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you."
Kiyoomi would never admit that those words made him feel a little bad about his attitude. 
Without removing his hand from the door handle, he blurted out the question that was consuming him and that he needed an answer to.
"What did you tell her?" 
For some reason, he expected Atsumu to answer with honesty, but he wasn't surprised when instead, the twin simply replied, "A wingman never reveals his secrets."
"Oh, fuck off." He mused, opening his car door just a few centimeters before the other man's hand closed it.
"Look, just go inside and talk to her. I swear I saw it in her face that she’s interested, of course, until you ran away like a chicken. I hope she's not offended and you've lost the opportunity of a lifetime." 
Only a sentence of Atsumu's words caught his attention.  
"What do you mean with 'she looked interested'?" He asked, his voice betraying him by not sounding as disinterested as he wanted it to.
Atsumu smirked. "It seems like she does see you that way."
You do?
The mere possibility of that being true, of you seeing him that way, was what prompted him to let out a last sigh and set the car alarm again before locking his keys in his hoodie. Although he wouldn't say this out loud and was still unhappy with Atsumu's actions, the twin was right in saying that this could be his chance. Maybe he should stop feeling self-conscious and just go for it. 
"If you're lying, you forget I exist." 
"Deal." Atsumu said, stretching out his hand, waiting for him to take it, but the black-haired simply brushed past him, to which the twin simply huffed in resignation before following his friend.  
Kiyoomi's feet felt heavier with every step he took back to the twins' house, he was going to do it. He was actually going to do it. He was going to talk to you outside the classroom, after whatever Atsumu had told you, which opened the door to many possibilities. One, was that you liked him; the other, was that you didn't and that you only saw him as a friend, he longed too much for the first option but he wouldn't be dissatisfied with the second, it all depended on how things turned out when he walked through the door in front of him.
Kiyoomi inhaled and exhaled, filling himself with courage before placing his hand on the doorknob. 
But that burst of bravery he was able to fill himself with was interrupted by the twin, who stopped him with a grip on the wrist.
"Don't touch m-" He didn't finish his sentence since Atsumu put something cold in the palm of his hand. 
"Here." Atsumu whispered and Kiyoomi looked at the object, frowned in confusion when he realized it was a key. "It's the key to the guest room. Use it wisely."
Use it wisely? What did that mean?
"Why would I want to-" Kiyoomi started, but the twin interrupted him, raising a finger to silence him. 
"Shh. Thank me when you're at the altar and I'm your best man. Let's go inside." 
And just like that, Atsumu grabbed his arm to pull him inside the house.
Bruno Mars' voice was blaring from the speakers in the living room, people were singing at the top of their lungs, drinking and dancing, evidently having a good time. Sometimes Kiyoomi wondered how the twins knew so many people, there were so many guests that they had to push their way through the crowd to get to where you were still standing by the kitchen area, looking spectacular as ever as you talked to your friend.
As if you sensed his presence, you turned your face and your eyes met, causing Kiyoomi's heart to skip a beat. Damn, was this a good idea?
"Here he is." Atsumu announced their arrival excitedly. "The Kiyoomi I was telling you about. Does he look familiar?"
Sakusa almost rolled his eyes, but the chuckle you let out at Atsumu's humor stopped him, "Yes, I think I know him." You replied, your eyes still fixed on the tall black-haired man in front of you. 
"Perfect!" He exclaimed, clasping his hands together enthusiastically. "Then, since there's no need for introductions, I'll leave you two alone." The twin said, patting him on the back before turning and leaving. 
"Yeah, me too." Your friend said, throwing you a mischievous look and copying Atsumu's action, losing herself in the crowd. 
Now that you were alone (if it could be considered "alone" in a room full of people), he wondered where the direct Kiyoomi was when he needed him. Say something, say something, say something, say something. He mentally shouted to himself, but he was so intimidated by your presence and the cute way you were looking at him that no words could formulate in his mouth. 
"Uh—, hi." He said after a few awkward seconds of silence, trying to play it cool by leaning against the kitchen island. 
"Hi." You replied with a smile and looked up at him, as if waiting for him to say something else, but at Kiyoomi's lack of response, you continued, "How are you?"
So fucking nervous, he wanted to say, but instead, a 'fine and you?' left his mouth. 
"Me too." You said, and he noticed how you bit your lip lightly, as if you were thinking of what to say before speaking again: "Um… did you do the homework for Monday?"
"Yes, and you?"
"Yup."
Fuck. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. If he were someone else, someone like Atsumu perhaps, he might have already charmed you with words, made you laugh and you would be having a more enjoyable conversation. 
After a sigh, you spoke again. "Are you drinking?"
"Yes." He said, raising his water bottle and feeling stupid a second later, obviously by that question you meant was he consuming alcohol. "Something like that. And you?"
"Something like that" You repeated his words, raising a glass goblet showing what appeared to be a cocktail. "It’s strawberry juice, goes with my costume, and I'm also driving tonight, so I can't drink too much."
"That's very responsible of you."
That's very responsible of you?!
Couldn't he think of something more stupid to say? Probably not. 
But if you thought his answer was stupid, you didn't give it away, since you giggled before saying, "I think it is."
In an attempt to divert attention from his very stupid comment, he took advantage of the information you gave him about the drink to salvage this interaction. "So— why the drink goes with the costume?" 
"You don't know who I am?" You asked, raising your arms to better show off your costume. It was very 2000s style. A pink tracksuit, a white blouse under it, also a necklace. 
"Uh— Paris Hilton?" He guessed, inwardly hoping he was right. 
You giggled again. "Almost. I'm Regina George's mom." You said, giving him a bump with your shoulder against his arm. And, amazingly, Kiyoomi for the first time did not find an unexpected physical contact upsetting. "What do you think? I didn't know who to dress up as and this was last minute."
"You look…" Divine. "Good."
"Thank you." As soon as your words were out of your mouth, he noticed how you stared at his outfit, squinting your eyes and making a tender gesture with your mouth that he had learned you did when you thought of something. "Come to think of it, you pretty much look like Damien in that hoodie. You should just add some sunglasses." You added after a few seconds, pointing to the blue fabric covering his body. 
Kiyoomi frowned. Damien? Who the fuck was Damien and why he looked like him? 
“Who?” He asked. 
“Damien? The guy who shows up in the middle of the gym scene? With the blue hoodie and glasses? You haven't seen Mean Girls?”
The tone in which you said it made him regret having refused his cousin’s offer to see that damn movie a few months ago. 
"No, I've only heard of it." He admitted with a shrug.
Surprisingly, you smiled at his response, "It's a classic. We should see it sometime."
We should. A half smile appeared on his face at the word we. "Yes, we should."
"Um, do you wanna go watch the beer pong game?"
Two hours later, Kiyoomi found himself having what was perhaps the longest conversation with a girl of his life, and the one he had enjoyed the most. 
After awkwardly breaking the ice and watching Atsumu lose (two times in a row) in beer pong, you moved to the living room, where you luckily found space on the couch where you had been sitting since then. 
Kiyoomi leaned back against the couch, his elbow resting on the armrest as he listened intently to you recount an embarrassing childhood memory that had him chuckling softly. The sight was rare, and his friends’ curious stares only made it rarer, he knew they were probably losing their minds right now, but he tried to ignore them, though, focusing instead on the way your eyes lit up when you spoke. You were magnetic in a way he hadn’t expected, and the realization only deepened the smile tugging at his lips. God, how much he regretted not having the self-confidence to talk to you in this way much earlier. 
“Okay, your turn.” You said, nudging his knee lightly with yours.
“My turn?”
“To tell me something embarrassing. Come on, don’t hold out on me now.” You teased, leaning just a fraction closer.
Kiyoomi let out a low groan, feigning reluctance. “Fine. But you owe me for this.”
As he started to recount a story about an unfortunate middle school haircut incident, his voice grew more animated, his laughter trying to break through every now and then, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room melted away.
The conversation flowed naturally, but there was an underlying tension, an awareness that neither of you could ignore. When he finished his story, you both fell into a comfortable silence, your knees still brushing against each other.
“Is it me or the twins keep staring at us?” You asked out of the blue, pointing with your head to a spot behind Kiyoomi, who didn't even want to bother turning around—because most likely no, it wasn't you—but still did, finding both twins pretending to look away before going their separate ways, Atsumu bumping into someone in the attempt. 
He sighed deeply, his lips pressing into a line. “Ignore them. They’re just… nosy.”
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Nosy about what?”
His face turned a faint shade of red, and he leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Kiyoomi didn't want to, but he would tell you the truth. “Probably that I'm talking to a girl.”
You chuckled, maybe finding his bashfulness endearing. “Do you not talk to girls often or something?”
“No.” He said, pretending that the admission didn't make him feel a little embarrassed.
“And is there any special reason why I'm the lucky one?” 
Kiyoomi hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours before dropping to where your knees touched. His mind raced for an answer, but nothing felt sufficient—not for what he was feeling, not for why you had captivated him so completely.
“You're… different.” He finally said, his voice quieter than before.
“Different how?” You asked, your tone teasing but your eyes soft with curiosity.
He let out a breath, his hand brushing against his neck again, “You're easy to talk to. Genuine. And you're…” He stopped himself, shaking his head with a self-conscious laugh.
“I'm what?” You prompted, leaning in slightly, your voice coaxing.
“You're just… you. And I like that.”
Your playful expression softened into something warmer, and the space between you felt even smaller. “That's probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Kiyoomi.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was charged, alive with a tension neither of you could deny anymore. His hand, resting between you on the couch, shifted slightly, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was brief, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make you glance up at him.
In that moment, something unspoken passed between you—an understanding, a shared want that neither of you could ignore any longer.
Kiyoomi leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate, as if savoring every second leading up to the moment his lips met yours. When they did, the kiss was soft, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened as the world around you faded into the background. He wasn't an experienced kisser, he hadn't done it enough times in his life to consider himself one, but he let instinct guide him, following your rhythm. It was slow and even sweet, he could taste the flavor of your gloss. Strawberry. Maybe the same one he always saw you applying in the middle of class and now decided it was his new favorite flavor. 
Kiyoomi doesn't know at what point the kiss became a little more intense. He could feel you pressing into him as you pulled one of your legs up onto his lap. He was so immersed in the kiss that he even forgot where he was, in the middle of a party, on an old couch surrounded by strangers and friends. 
This same realization also seems to have reached you, because at that very moment you broke the kiss. And even though only seconds had passed, he already missed the feeling of your lips against his. 
“Well—” You said, your voice light but still a little shaky. “I think your friends will definitely have something to talk about now.”
Kiyoomi chuckled softly, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Let them.”
You looked into his eyes and smiled at him, you looked very pretty with your slightly swollen lips and bright eyes. At that moment, Kiyoomi wondered if this was real or some dream, he was almost certain that his eyes betrayed how madly smitten he was by you. 
“Kiyoomi,” You said, your voice breaking him out of his thoughts.
He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in curiosity. “Yeah?”
Your next words, simple yet charged, left him momentarily stunned.
“Can we go somewhere else?”
When Atsumu gave him the key to the guest room, he never thought he would actually use it. But here he was, with a very excited you at his side waiting for him to open the door. He really hoped you wouldn't ask why he had that key, because he knew he didn't want to lie to you as he also knew he didn't want to give you the explanation.  
After he opened the door, he stepped aside to let you in first before passing behind you. And something that caught him off guard was, when he barely closed the door behind him, you were quick to lock it before you put your hands on his cheeks to kiss him again. This time hungrier, more passionate. 
You were a good kisser, too good. And that only made Sakusa more nervous than he already was, he knew what you wanted, he knew where this was headed. And even though he wanted it too, the reality is that he had no idea what the fuck to do. 
His body was tensing up, overthinking the situation. He was not experienced in this area, not at all.
Still, he tried to keep up with you, walking backwards as you kissed him until he fell into a sitting position on the bed. 
In a matter of seconds, Kiyoomi watched as you took off your pink sweater, staying only in your tank top which didn't cover you for long, since you took it off immediately, leaving a very nice white bra in sight. 
It would be a lie to say that Kiyoomi was not hard. Because he was. Perhaps much harder than he had ever been in his life. 
“I really wanted to do this.” You said, and without even giving Kiyoomi time to process what you just confessed, you kissed him again, took both of his hands and brought them to your breasts as you straddled his lap. 
Kiyoomi almost choked when he felt your soft breasts under his palms, but instead of doing something with his hands, he stayed still, afraid to make a move you might not like. 
He was frustrated with himself. He literally had the girl of his dreams all over him, kissing him, letting him touch her after admitting that she wanted to do this and he just did nothing. 
Just relax, he told himself. Let yourself go. 
But his body seemed to betray him again the moment your hands went to his pants with the intention of unbuttoning them, because the first reaction he had was to stop you while from his mouth escaped a “Wait.”
“What happened?” You asked, your brow furrowed, obviously confused by his sudden reaction. 
C'mon, Kiyoomi, just tell her. She's an angel, she will understand. 
“I don't know how to say this.” He mumbled, almost to himself. Still, he took a deep breath, encouraging himself to speak. “I, uh- I don't-” He tried to explain himself, but before he could complete the sentence, you interrupted him.
“You don't want to do this, do you?” You spoke softly, Kiyoomi looked up, meeting your face which had an expression full of disappointment. 
His stomach turned over, no, no, no, no. You had misunderstood. “Y/n, that wasn't what—”
You quickly got up from his lap and bent down to pick up your shirt, “It's okay, I just-” Your voice broke as tears escaped your eyes and Kiyoomi felt like he wanted to kill himself at that moment, “I just want you to know that I'm not usually like this, but, when Atsumu told me that you liked me I thought that— I'm sorry, this is embarrassing.” The words rushed out of your mouth as you put your clothes back on. 
Kiyoomi would ignore (for now) that Atsumu really told you that he liked you literally only minutes after he admitted it, he would kill him later, now his main priority was you and clearing up this mess as soon as possible. 
“Hey, wait.” He said, holding you by the wrist to keep you from turning around and leaving. “I'm sorry. This is a misunderstanding, just, listen to me for a minute.” 
You looked at him silently before turning to face him again. 
He took a deep breath before continuing, “I like you, too much. I've been for a long time. And believe me when I tell you I really want to do it.” He admitted, and before you could say anything, he continued, “It's just that, I’m really fucking nervous. I— I've never done this.” His last words came out in a lower tone due to nerves and perhaps some embarrassment. But there was no turning back now. 
You looked at him for a few seconds, blinking at him before asking, “Done... what?”
“This.”
“Oh. Are you a…” You said, leaving the last word up in the air, but he mentally finished it for you, knowing full well what you were going to say.
A virgin.
“Yes.” He confirmed it. 
You were silent, and although it was somewhat dark, Kiyoomi could tell the shock on your face. He understood. If he were you, he might have been surprised too, since it's a fact that not many people expect. 
Kiyoomi was silent as well, silently mourning for himself. Thinking that maybe he ruined everything and a part of him was afraid that you would make fun of him. But the truth is that he was more worried if you left, how would he look at your face after that? He wouldn't be able to. It looked like he would have to take back the plan to leave that class and move to another country, which was a shame, because everything was going so well. 
His thoughts were interrupted when out of nowhere you let out a chuckle. 
“I'm kind of dramatic, don't you think?”
What? 
“I rushed to think that the reason you were a little tense and decided to stop was because you didn't like me, I never imagined that it was because you were… nervous. I'm really sorry, Kiyoomi.”
“Hey, It's okay, don't apologize. ” He said before taking both of your hands in his, “I should do it for not saying it from the beginning.”
“I didn't even give you the time to do it, I rushed too much, I should have taken it slower. But, I was excited, I mean, I just found out that the guy I like, likes me too.”
Okay, this is the second time you've admitted that you liked Kiyoomi. And wow, it felt fantastic to hear it, it felt so good and surreal at the same time that after all, it seemed that his feelings were indeed reciprocal. 
“I think I ruined the mood.” You said in a chuckle, making Kiyoomi frown. “It's okay if you want to stop.”
He didn't want to stop, in fact, he felt quite the opposite. He wanted to do it, with you and only you. So he didn't think much of it when he asked, “Do you?” 
“Huh?”
“Do you want to stop?”
He watched you bite your lip lightly before responding in the most adorable voice ever, “No.”
“Me neither.”
You looked at each other for a few more seconds before you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring your lips together again. The kiss was slower, and for some reason it felt much more intimate. 
Kiyoomi returned his hands to your waist, now feeling more comfortable enough to caress you with his thumbs before slowly moving down your hips to your thighs, you seemed to understand what he wanted, because you automatically straddled his lap again. 
After the awkward moment you just spent, his erection had softened, but when he felt your center against his crotch, combined with the kiss becoming more passionate, his dick soon got hard again. You felt it, of course you felt it. That must have been why you began to move slowly over him, brushing your sex against his, which caused Kiyoomi to moan against your mouth.  
Kiyoomi by this point felt more comfortable, perhaps more confident, so he dared to run his hands up your sides until he reached the hem of your blouse. 
“Can I take it off?” He asked after breaking the kiss, and you looked so cute when you let out a giggle and nodded before raising your arms as Kiyoomi pulled up the fabric. 
Your bra came back into view, but not for long, as you brought your hands behind your back to unfasten it to let it fall to the side—Kiyoomi thanked mentally for this because he was sure it would have taken him quite a while to remove it by himself—.
The light coming through the window was enough to appreciate you well, which he was grateful for, because he really didn't want to miss any detail of seeing you this way. His thumbs went up to caress your nipples, which were erect and looked too cute. It was a gentle touch first before cradling both breasts in his hands and squeezing them gently. 
“Can I...?” The question was lost in his throat, somewhat shy even to speak during this moment. 
“Kiyoomi,” You said his name, grabbing him by the cheeks to make him look at your face, perhaps so he would be a hundred percent sure you meant what you were about to say, “You can do anything you want to me. If I don't like something, I promise I'll tell you, okay?”
He looked at you for a few seconds before answering, appreciating your face completely, from your eyes to your lips. God, you were so beautiful. “Okay.”
Kiyoomi kissed your neck and left a small peck on your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He took it slowly, running his tongue softly over it before sucking gently, and somehow he felt proud of himself when you let out a little moan and brought your hand to his black curls. 
He took his time, enjoying the taste of your skin in his mouth as he switched from one nipple to the other and finding delight in the little sounds you made until he felt eager for more. When he parted his lips from you, it was to remove his hoodie and t-shirt in one motion, letting them fall to the floor. 
“Wow,” The expression came out of you almost automatically at the sight of his body. Your delicate hands went to his biceps, making a path along his skin, past his shoulders to his chest. “How can you be so hot?”
Your words caught him off guard, so he couldn't help the laughter that came out of him. “You think?”
“Of course, just look at you.” Your hands followed their trail, down his abs to his v-line, at that moment he knew what you would do next. You settled on his thighs, leaving more space between his crotch and yours, then lowered your hand to the noticeable bulge in his pants. 
Kiyoomi almost moaned when you stroked him and almost choked on his own saliva when your thumb circled the tip, god, he knew he was leaking and hoped it didn't feel in his pants. 
It was the moment you squeezed him, that something changed inside him, he felt eager for more, and although he didn't want to rush this, he dared to bring your lips together again and, placing a hand on your lower back to keep you from falling, he turned around to lay you down on the bed. 
When he felt your hands on the edge of your pants, he decided to break the kiss and positioned himself in the middle of your legs to help you complete the action, pulling the fabric gently down your legs to drop them on the floor. Fuck. He gave himself the pleasure of admiring for a moment your beautiful form in front of him, in nothing but underwear, and practically giving yourself to him. If he was dreaming, he will kill whoever wakes him up.
His hands went up your thighs until they reached the edge of your underwear to start pulling it down, you raised your hips to help him and that was the moment where Kiyoomi saw for the first time your pussy. He gulped when in top of that, you spread your legs just as he finished removing the garment, exposing you completely to him, letting him see all of you. 
Now, what was he supposed to do? Sakusa was not completely uneducated on the subject, he knew where he was supposed to touch or even kiss. But he also knew that knowing it wasn't the same as doing it. So he preferred to be honest and let you guide him rather than try to do something he wasn't entirely sure you would like. 
“I really want to make you feel good, but, can you just…” For some reason (embarrassment) the words were lost in his throat. 
“Guide you?” You finished the sentence for him. 
“Something like that.” He mumbled. 
You smiled with what Kiyoomi guessed would be tenderness before taking his hand and guiding it to the middle of your legs. 
The first touch almost knocked the wind out of him and made his erection press harder against his pants, fuck, you were so wet and he could hardly believe it was because of him. 
Sakusa leaned forward with one arm by the side of your head, meeting your face a few inches from his as you whispered to him how to please you. He circled your clit at the speed you liked, thrusting his fingers in and out, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you helped him find, enjoying the moans that came from your beautiful lips and the way one of your hands squeezed his shoulder with pleasure. 
You kissed him the moment you started to cum on his fingers, your legs even trembled and Kiyoomi had never felt so proud of himself. He kissed you with the same desire, not ceasing to give you pleasure until you asked him to stop because of over stimulation. 
“God… you're so beautiful.” The words came out of their own accord as he looked down at you. 
“You think?” You smirked. 
“Every day.” 
“I never thought you'd see me that way, you know?” Those words were kind of funny coming from you. The girl who was the dream of many. Including his own. 
“Why?” 
You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes as you leaned slightly closer. “Because you’re you, Kiyoomi. Cold, composed, and…” You paused, pretending to think. “Kind of scary sometimes.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “Scary?”
“You know what I mean.” You teased. “You’re just… untouchable. Like, you don’t even notice anyone half the time.”
Kiyoomi chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I notice you.”
Your smile faltered for a second, replaced by something softer, something real. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He said. “You’ve always stood out to me. Even when I tried to act like you didn’t.”
You tilted your head, your expression thoughtful. “Why did you try to hide it?”
He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced away for a moment. “Because… I didn't think I'd ever have a chance. I thought you were way out of my league.”
Your laugh was soft, light, and you reached out to gently take his hand. “Kiyoomi, you're ridiculous.”
“Am I?”
“Absolutely.” You said, patting his bicep lightly. “Because if you had just talked to me sooner, you'd know I've been trying to get your attention for ages.”
His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as he tried to process your words. “You… what?”
You grinned, leaning in just enough that your noses almost touched. “I've always liked you, Kiyoomi. I just didn't think you'd ever notice.”
Kiyoomi stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest, before his lips quirked into a lopsided smile. “Guess we're both ridiculous, then.”
“Guess we are.” You murmured, and this time, it was you who closed the distance, your lips brushing his in a kiss so soft and sweet, the total opposite of the words that came out of your mouth next, “Now, please fuck me before I lose my mind.” 
Of course he would, his mind and his cock couldn't hold back any longer. 
“Just. Let. Me. Take– Take these off.” He said between kisses as you wouldn't let go, insisting on keeping his lips on yours with your palms on his cheeks. 
Kiyoomi did his best to remove his jeans and underwear in one go without breaking the kiss, but in the end, he had to do so (albeit unwillingly), when the last of his clothes were on the floor and the two of you were completely naked, to say something he remembered at the last minute. 
“I don't have a condom.”
This was bad, unfortunately Kiyoomi didn't carry any with him right now. The only one he used to carry in his wallet (just in case), he ended up giving it to Atsumu two weeks ago at a party, since at the time, the twin needed more than he did. Now he regretted it. 
You looked at him for a moment, processing his words before saying, “I don't care if you don't care.” 
“Are you sure?” He asked, astonishment radiating from his face.
“Very sure.”
Kiyoomi gulped before nodding, nervous about what was coming next. 
He took his cock in his palm, giving himself a few gentle strokes before lining himself up with your entrance. Your hand went to the middle of your bodies to replace his hand with yours and he heard you gasp at the feel of his shaft. 
“God, how— Kiyoomi, are you telling me you're a virgin with a dick like this?”
Kiyoomi couldn't help but let out a laugh, this was one of the things he liked most about you, how you spoke your mind bluntly. 
“I guess so.”
“Well, I wanted you to put it in in one go. But I guess we'll have to go slow.” You teased, adjusting your hips as you continued to slowly stroke his dick. 
Kiyoomi moaned as he felt your wet entrance meeting his leaking tip. He already felt in heaven and he wasn't even inside you yet. 
He placed both of his arms beside your head, looking down at you as he slowly thrust his hips forward, moving deeper into you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This felt so good. You felt so wet, so hot, so tight that he had to mentally beg his cock not to cum soon, he couldn't embarrass himself like that. 
He pressed his lips against your forehead, kissing casually as he heard you moan as you took him in. “Does it hurt?” He asked, still with half of his dick out of you. 
“A little.” You admitted and that worried Kiyoomi, who was about to pull out, but you spoke first. “But it feels so good, just keep going, it'll fade away.” 
He nodded and continued to enter you until he was completely inside you. He had to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a moment at the new feeling he was experiencing. 
“How does it feel?” He heard you ask after a minute, your sweet voice filling the silence where only your breaths could be heard. 
“Too good. Fuck. I don't think I'll last long.” He admitted, somewhat embarrassed, but still eager for more. “Can I— fuck—can I move?”
“Yes, please.”
Slowly at first, he began to move his hips, enjoying the feel of your wet walls squeezing him. Kiyoomi couldn't believe he missed out on this pleasure for so long, but he was glad that the one he was experiencing it with for the first time was you. 
He looked down at you, paying attention to your face and appreciating your expressions with adoration radiating from his eyes. How you bit your lower lip, how you opened your lips slightly, how you closed your eyes, how you smiled when you made eye contact. 
You whispered in his ear to go faster, and without a second thought, he complied with your request. He slipped both of his arms under your armpits to hold on tighter and began to thrust so hard that even the bed began to hit the wall. Thank goodness there was a party going on downstairs and the sound of the bed along with the sound of your moans would not be heard by others. 
“Kiyoomi…” You moaned his name, sounding like an angel as you did. Your hands went behind his back, holding him tightly against you and he even felt your nails digging lightly into his skin. He couldn't resist bringing your lips together again, kissing you sloppily as he moved in and out of you. 
He felt you squeeze him as your moans increased before he brought one of his hands to the middle of your bodies, circling messily over your clit, bringing you to the edge. Your legs trembled and a cute moan left your mouth as you came. Kiyoomi also moaned against your lips, you squeezed him so deliciously that he was surprised he didn't explode at that moment, but he knew he wasn't far from it. 
“I'm going to…” The words were lost in his throat as he felt his own orgasm so close. He was panting like crazy, holding you tighter against him as he settled his head in the crook of your neck and his thrusts became more intense. 
“Don't pull out, please.” 
His common sense told him that was irresponsible, but his desire along with how sexy it was to hear you say those words were stronger, because when he least realized it, he was cumming inside you— and it felt good, too good. Nothing compared to the orgasms his hand had so far provided. God, he might get addicted to you after this. 
The room fell into a silence, where only your accelerated breathing and the music muffled by the door could be heard. You both refused to move for a few moments, enjoying the touch of your skin and the vital sounds of each other. 
The dim light slipping through the windows painted faint shadows on the walls, highlighting the way your bodies pressed together. Your skin against his was warm, electric, like a spark neither of you wanted to break. Time felt like it slowed, stretching out as you both stayed perfectly still, caught in the pull of the moment. He could feel your heartbeat under his touch, steady and grounding, blending into the quiet rhythm of your breaths.
“So, how was it?” You broke the silence, stroking his back with your fingertips. 
Kiyoomi couldn't help but let out a chuckle in the midst of his quickening breath, “Mind blowing.” 
“I agree.”
Kiyoomi propped himself up on his forearms, his eyes meeting your adorable face, and he couldn't help but smile softly. He leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your lips before settling down beside you. With an easy, natural motion, he slid a hand to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Now, with your head resting on his chest, he held you with the kind of tenderness that made the moment feel too perfect to let go of.
As the quiet rhythm of his breathing filled the room, Kiyoomi looked down at you, nestled against his chest. He absentmindedly traced gentle circles on your back with his fingers, his mind lingering on the softness of the moment. The warmth of your presence and the steady rhythm of your breathing calmed him, but his mind refused to settle.
He couldn't stop replaying the events of the night—the way your presence had lit up the room, the way you spoke with such ease and authenticity, and how natural it felt to be by your side. For someone who usually kept people at a distance, you had somehow bypassed every barrier he'd carefully built.
The thought made his chest tighten, but not with unease. With something new. Something he wanted to hold onto.
He glanced down at you, his heart catching at the way your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked sleepily. He knew moments like this didn't come often—not for him. And he knew it— he wanted more. 
But would you want that, too?
The doubt lingered for only a second before he pushed it aside. Tonight had been proof enough that whatever this was, it was mutual. And if he didn't take a chance, he'd regret it.
Gathering his courage, he took a breath, his voice low and steady as he broke the silence.
“Hey.” He began, the faintest hint of shyness lacing his tone. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”
You smiled, your cheek still resting against his chest. “Not yet. Why?”
“I was thinking…” He hesitated for a beat, then pressed on. “Maybe we could go out. Just the two of us.”
Your eyebrows lifted slightly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Are you asking me on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?”
“Yeah.” He said. “I want to take you somewhere nice. Anywhere you want.”
You reached up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “I'd love that.”
His lips curved into a small, genuine smile, relief flickering across his expression. “Good. I'll make it worth your while.”
“You already are.”
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spoiler: sakusa didn’t know it yet, but atsumu will actually be the best man a few years later.
827 notes · View notes
monzabee · 9 months ago
Text
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. 
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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.
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sol-iscus · 4 days ago
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❗️Mild arcane spoilers ❗️
Miiight ruffle some feathers.
Not EVEN going to lie, unnecessary ship wars aside, the fan base has developed such a deep love and understanding for these characters (because let’s be honest, there are some pretty intelligent people giving eye opening analyses) that after the finale, it appears that we have a better understanding of them than the actual writers.
We deserved better as the audience after all the hype over the years, all the waiting, even after some episodes got leaked a while ago, most of us remained respectful and waited to see what this season would bring us. The core characters ABSOLUTELY deserved better as well.
It felt as if I was watching all of the characters’ development be erased in real time, or become sidelined and nearly mute after being propped up to appear as if they were going to have a significant arc.
With the amount of episodes we had, it felt like they were trying to cram a bunch of different storylines into one 9 episode season and that left us with annoying plot holes and rushed sequences.
And I’m just gonna say it.
If a certain relationship needed to be sacrificed if it meant that other characters had the proper development they needed and DESERVED, then I would have preferred that much, MUCH more than that undercooked finale.
Don’t. Even. Get me started on that caitvi scene. In the cell? Right after that conversation she had with her sister? Don’t give me that nonsense about how it’s vi reclaiming her power or something. (An actual weird ass statement from Amanda Overton in a Q&A video about how that was Vi reclaiming and working through her trauma in that cell).
No apology? No groveling for forgiveness? That little argument they had lasted like five seconds and didn’t even address the earlier conflict that happened in the show after cait left vi. And before any of you say “cait apologized with her actions”
I don’t care. Two things can be true at once, she can and should have apologized directly as well as displayed that with her actions.
Moving on to Mel??? We did not nearly have enough time to explore her new abilities as a mage, her armor, and her connection to the black rose. As I said, the storylines this season should have been more refined so we could focus on a central group of characters. They did nothing but hint at her armor from the end of season 1 all the way up until now.
Also maybe I’m hallucinating, but did we ever find out what happened to the firelight’s tree?? That’s one of the main reasons Ekko and Heimerdinger went to the lab isn’t it? HELLO?
Next on my list, Jinx. This girl has suffered to no end.
- Lost her whole family except for Vi.
- Almost died once and was brought back to life.
- Tried to end her life several more times
And you slap us all in the face by writing her off?
“Oh but she may not be GONE gone, look at the glitching at the end!"
I. Don’t. Care. It’s the principle.
I’m sick and tired of seeing characters that struggle with mental health and keep having one bad event after another happen to them, never receiving a proper ending. What messages are the writers sending with this? That death is basically the answer because there’s no hope for them? Cool. That was not an honorable act of self sacrifice, that was plain insulting.
Instead, if they still really wanted to have a Jinx redemption arc and a chance to rekindle her relationship with Vi, having her tap into engineering for the betterment of Zaun would have been the better route.
We should have gotten an extra extended episode since this is last season for the Piltover/Zaun region, and for Jinx and Vi's story. I really want to blame Riot for being greedy and possibly becoming too cocky with the popularity of Arcane that they think anything would suffice because It's Arcane.
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casualhedonists · 1 year ago
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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter two)
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pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader
chapter: 2/?
MASTERLIST
warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)
i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.
a/n: first off, THANK YOU for the love on chapter 1. wasn’t sure how I’d fare since I’ve done a lot of writing in my life but little to no smut. with that said! longer chapter incoming. also I just know he’d give insane head okay i just do,the guy looks like he fucks and he definitely does
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You weren't sure exactly how you slipped away from Snow’s room that night, but you could somewhat piece it together in flashes. First a head rush, then the fire in the pit of your stomach practically having gasoline thrown on it.
You remembered a quiet gasp escaping your lips, then panic, a flash of white, and suddenly you were stumbling away, head spinning as you tried to catch your breath, pacing unevenly down the hallway, any chance of a stealthy escape long thrown out the window.
Back in your room, once the door was bolted and your back was against it, making sure nobody could get in if they tried, you had your first shot at clear-headedness since you’d heard heels scuffing the hardwood.
You’d soaked your panties through and were dripping down your thighs, but you’d be damned if you could get into the headspace to take care of it. Panic flooded your veins, ice-hot as you tried to catch your breath. you slid down the door and sat there, legs numb against the cold wooden planks.
Who was she? A million questions filled your head all at once. Was she from the Capitol? Could she be one of Snow’s friends, one of your friends? The thought made you sick. What if you’d dined with her before? Talked to her? How long had this been happening? Who knew about it? Were you being played?
Had he seen you watching him?
Unable to help yourself, your one-track mind took you back to the way he’d groaned your name, though you were half sure that had been a fever dream of some kind. Still, you kept replaying it. Over and over, like a broken record.
It didn’t make any sense, you were so fucking confused. All this time you’d been hoping he would make a move, you’d practically begged him to. Why hadn’t he? When you were clearly on his mind, and yet he made you believe he didn’t think of you that way at all. Was he just respecting your agreement?
You fiddled with the lace on the hem of your slip as you mulled it over. You stayed sat like this for almost an hour, trying unsuccessfully to wrap your head around it. When you ended up right back where you started, and you were sure enough time had passed that if someone was coming to get you, they would’ve already, you finally stood up. Your caution led you to drag a chair from across the room, propping it up by the door to jam the handle. That left you with the sliver of peace of mind you required to shower off this cold sweat you’d formed.
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The next morning, you dreaded breakfast. But you knew you had to face him, as well as the fact that this could very well be your last meal. You should at least try to eat well.
You made your way downstairs, a few minutes later than usual, enough for Coriolanus to already be sipping coffee, a few pages through his newspaper. You’d not got fully dressed yet, not wanting the contrast to be too obvious, but you’d wrapped a silk dressing gown around you so you were a little more covered up. You knew one thing for certain, you wouldn’t be trying any more of your tricks until you knew just what you were dealing with.
He didn’t look over at you, which you took as a good sign. The urge to hide from him, from what you’d seen and what you now knew, overwhelmed you. You didn’t say a word, and picked silently at your breakfast, but despite your best efforts, not managing to keep more than a few bites down.
“You’re quiet today.” He muttered, and you started.
“Um.”
He lowered his paper.
“Something wrong?”
How about everything?
“Oh, no, I’m okay. Just uh…” you glanced up at him, and met his sharp gaze. Fuck. You’d hoped you’d go unnoticed. You felt like a deer in headlights, like he could read your mind.
“Well?” He prompted, gaze unwavering. You blinked.
“Headache.” You managed to breathe, faking a small, pitiful smile.
He brought his paper back up in front of him, crisply turning the page. You both thanked the new barrier between you for cutting off his stare, and resented it as you looked at the tiny printed words you couldn’t make out from where you were sitting.
“I’ll have Lucille bring you up something.”
“Thank you.” you said quickly, almost too quickly, and you feared he might lower his paper again to watch you as you stumbled over another excuse. But you fell lucky this time.
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The week seemed to pass in a blur, Monday’s gala being one of the only times you really left your room when Snow was around, other than meal times, which you spent in a similar state as that first breakfast. You cursed yourself for throwing out your longer dresses, and settled for the least suggestive of them, the white one you’d been thinking of pitching to Snow as a backup plan in your panicked state outside his bedroom. That all felt worlds away now. What you’d seen had shifted the tides, marking a solid, definitive line in your head between the before and after.
The gala went as well as it could given the circumstances. You danced, Snow was charming to you in front of the guests, but held your gaze no longer than usual. It was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling to feel his hands on your waist, knowing what you knew. It felt like you’d been tapped with a cattle prod and had to hide it every time his hand brushed yours on top of the dinner table, as unsuspecting guests smiled at you, the happy couple.
If only they knew that in the same breath, you were scanning the crowd, wondering who the blonde could’ve been, how close she was to Snow, if at all, and hating the way every touch he placed on your hands and waist served as a reminder that he’d been touching her instead of you.
Your stupid brain had formed a highlight reel of what you’d witnessed behind Snow’s door, and it tortured you with every passing moment. To know he was thinking of you. To think that maybe, he wanted you there instead. It put a strange sense of possessive pride into you, that weaved between your jealousy. Because yes, you’d seen another girl on her knees with her mouth around him, but you hadn’t heard any name other than your own while it happened.
You carried this strange hope, dwindling to start off, and then building each day that you were left un-hanged and very much alive, slowly chipping away at your fear of the worst. And yet, you knew the game, unbeknownst to Snow, had been fundamentally changed. You’d stopped your antics altogether, now barely meeting his eye as you passed each other in the hallway, covering up more at breakfast, and only talking just enough to avoid another interrogation. Avoiding touch, and conversation, and all-around keeping yourself away from him.
You were quieter still at night in your room. After a few days, you’d finally felt safe enough to move the chair away and sleep with the door locked as you normally would. But while your games had stopped, your want for him had only been amplified. Fuelled by jealousy and frustration, you had to bite down on your hand so that not even the slightest noise made its way out as you pictured him, not as you used to in your fantasies, but as you’d seen him that night, undone with your name on his lips. It was much easier, in your head, to picture yourself as the one on your knees. Any other fantasy just failed to make the cut now you’d seen the real thing.
Thursday rolled around and you’d made a new habit of pacing the downstairs library when Coriolanus was out of the house. That way, if he got home and stepped inside, you could pretend to be lost in a book. But the hours seemed to stretch out and you became bored, and with no Snow in sight, you decided to head down to the servants’ quarters.
This wasn’t a common occurrence, but it wasn’t unheard of. You were known for your gentleness among the house staff, less harsh than Snow, but firm nonetheless. It had led you to a respectful friendliness with the maids and servants, and once every so often you’d check in on them.
Today’s objectives, however, were purely self-motivated. You found Lucille, who dressed you, at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables.
She stood upon seeing you, and curtseyed (Snow was rather old fashioned that way). You nodded, then took a seat at the foot of the table.
“Do you need any help with that?” You glanced at the cutting board.
Lucille’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Ma’am.”
You laughed. Lucille chopped and diced, and you asked questions. At first, they were after her family, her brother was sick and despite your offers, she wouldn’t accept help. So instead you listened, and slowly but surely, your questions got a little more directed toward the object of your interest.
You were good at playing the long game, so you started by asking about the company he kept. What she thought of them, with the promise that it would stay between the two of you, cross your heart.
She wouldn’t say much but she knew a little more than you; Snow kept very similar company as you did, and rarely went out for social visits. Any trips were strictly work-related, and when you eased into the topic of his past, Lucille mentioned, in very polite terms, that he had left a small trail of women heartbroken after a short period of time. That not all of them had been pleasant, and that she was pleased you seemed to have a positive effect on him.
She knew about your arrangement, practically the whole staff did, but they were kept on a very tight leash and were thoroughly reminded to not say a word acknowledging it, not even to you. It was with a knowing glance that Lucille told you she was happy you’d stayed around.
You smiled. Knowing that was likely all you were going to get for now, you let her be. By then, it was late enough to have gone dark, and you headed up to bed.
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You awoke to creaking outside your door, and the shadow of footsteps from underneath it. You’d been tossing and turning for the last - you checked your watch - two hours. Excellent. You rolled onto your back wondering who it was, and then you heard it again. At first you wondered if it was just a sleep-deprived hallucination, or a sense of deja-vu, but then you focused, and there it was. The sound of heels. Again.
You sat up in bed, pushing your hair out of your face. You were enraged the first time, but if this was becoming a Thursday night tradition, it would be a serious problem. You were tired, you reasoned, you could just try to go back to sleep. Ignore it. Not let him have this power over you, a power that he didn’t even know he had. All the more reason to ignore it, and make it tomorrow’s problem.
But you just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, no matter how hard you tried. Your mother used to say it was a problem, always sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong. But it had got you this far, hadn't it?
You knew you were going to follow her to Snow’s room again, it was just a matter of time. You had to at least pretend you had an ounce of self-control, whereas really your head was thrumming and you knew it would take getting hit by a high-speed train to send you back to sleep now.
So you held off. Five minutes passed. Then ten. You had to know, at least, what they were doing. Maybe you could get a look at her face, see who it was, and answer some of the questions you had.
So you went. With a purpose this time, knowing full well what and who you’d end up seeing, trying to take steady breaths and focus on your plan. Check who it was, then leave.
You’d never been that great at execution. Call it hedonism, call it a morbid fascination, or living vicariously, but when you walked up to the door - which was ajar again, strangely even more than last time, by at least an inch or two - you looked inside, and your feet planted. The last shred of your self-control allowed you to take in the room first, the desk and chair that was right within your sight, and as you tucked yourself into the room, half hidden behind the door, you finally looked back at the bed where you’d seen Snow with his blonde girl last time.
Neither of them were sitting now.
Thirty seconds ago, you would’ve believed the hottest thing you’d ever seen was what played out in this room last week. But that was before you saw Snow turned away from you, still fully dressed with his sleeves rolled up, stomach on the bed and face between the blonde’s thighs, eating her out like he was on death row and she was his last meal.
You’d gotten head before. You knew it felt good, but the boys you’d slept with before your arrangement with Snow were selfish and inattentive. They would try, but they were far more interested in getting their dicks wet than showing you a good time. But Snow - you’d never seen anything like it. You didn’t know it could feel that good, or at least, not as good as the blonde girl - who you noted in the back of your mind, wasn’t anyone you recognised - was making it look. Her hips were bucking so hard he was having to pin her down with both hands around her waist.
She was just moving so much, wriggling and crying out and gasping and - you didn’t think you’d ever truly known jealousy until that moment. You couldn’t look away, knees weak and hands shaking, letting yourself get sucked into this headspace again, losing all trace of rationality. You’d think she was playing it up for him, but you knew what that sounded like. You’d faked enough orgasms to know if she was, but this? This was real. As she got close, grinding into him, writhing, running a shaky hand through his hair then getting louder, you managed to snap out of your trance.
In a flash, you ran back down the hallway.
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If you thought you were avoiding Snow before, this week was about to give you a run for your money. You took breakfast in your room, and kept only to the parts of the house you knew he never entered. You only touched yourself in the shower, silent cries washed away by the water and steam, paranoia backing you into a corner.
You feigned illness the one time Snow sent a maid to inquire after you. Nothing too major, but enough to put him off. When he left the house, you snuck into the library to smuggle books back to your room, a pile forming as you tried ceaselessly to distract yourself.
You wrote home, you studied art and history. You attempted a few terrible sketches. You tore apart your room, then put it back together.
Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around again. On longer days like this, when Snow had been away working for hours at a time, you’d doubled down on your efforts to get information, and after chipping away for just long enough, you finally managed to squeeze some tidbits out of Lucille. Namely that there was a certain gentleman’s club in the city that he used to frequent before his election as President. Snow’s old driver might know its name, she said.
“But that was long before he met you, ma’am, rest assured.” She added hurriedly.
“Of course. Thank you, Lucille. I think I’ve kept you for long enough. Goodnight.”
Snow had been gone for the whole day, and you weren’t sure if he’d come home yet, so as you headed up to your room, you quietly wandered a little further down the hallway, to check if there was any light beneath his door. There wasn’t. Good. You were glad he wouldn’t be continuing this routine of his. Maybe this Thursday night, you could sleep peacefully.
With a sigh, and mulling over what you’d learned today, you returned to your room, poured a drink, then collapsed into bed.
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This night was as sleepless as the rest, and you’d been drifting - not uncomfortably - in and out. A storm was brewing outside, and the sounds of howling wind began to keep you alert. You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling, then glanced towards your door. Snow must’ve come home at some point, and very late at that, because dim lights had been turned on in the hallway. Paranoia crept into your mind, slowly poisoning your thoughts and turning you inside out.
It didn’t take long before the feeling pushed you to roll out of bed, slide on a dressing gown, and crack open your door. This time, you couldn’t hear footsteps, or anything that might arise suspicion. You closed the door again. Waited. Then looked around your room, at the messy sheets and the half finished glass of liquor on the nightstand. You rarely drank alone, but these past few weeks had been getting to you, fucking with your head. Coriolanus Snow had driven you to this.
The wind got louder, and you knew you were too wired to sleep, so you stood by your window and finished the glass.
You’d never been good with mysteries. You wanted to know everything, all the time. Know who had power over you, know precisely how to take it away. Know exactly what was happening around you at any given moment. But most of all, you didn’t like being played for a fool.
And sure, the ethics of it had never been discussed between the two of you. Your business was strictly professional, but when you weren’t allowed to sleep around, why could he?
In fact, how dare he?
You poured another glass, straight whiskey. Downed it, pacing your room, back and forth between the door and the window, running your fingers along the ridges of the crystal glass. You thought about him, comfortably in his room, not a care in the world.
How dare he.
You weren’t sure if it was the drink or the buildup of your situation that had your blood boiling, but it didn’t matter. You were incensed. His behaviour was an insult to your name, to your family’s name. Sure, this relationship was a sham, but all the more reason for him to act with basic fucking respect. Sleeping with - and very obviously, at that - a whore, who had a bad habit of leaving the door cracked open, was unacceptable.
You were running hot, and if you knew one thing for certain, it was that when Snow met with fire, he was going to melt. You’d make sure of it.
Your feet took you into the hallway, with the decidedness that this would be the last time.
You rushed down the corridor with a tightly bottled rage that was about to burst, words hot on your tongue and demanding to be spoken, until you turned the corner and saw Snow’s door half open. You stopped in your tracks. Reassessed, then stepped closer, slowly, steadily. Remembering what you were there for.
Then, as you got close enough to see inside - right there, without you even having to step past the threshold, were the two of them, lit by a table lamp, Snow sat on the desk chair as the girl rode him to high heaven, obscene noises getting louder. As you approached you saw Snow’s face again, eyes shut, breath laboured, and you couldn’t believe that anyone just walking by would be able to see this. They were fucking like animals, out in the open. You didn’t know how or why you drew closer still, closing in on them. The girl’s head was dropped down to his shoulder, back facing you, and couldn’t see you unless she turned, but Snow? He was practically facing the door, almost as if he’d been…
No. It couldn’t be. Could it?
But you didn’t have time to think it through, because Snow’s eyes blinked open, and you knew. He was looking right at you, blue eyes piercing into yours, sharp and dangerous like he was going in for the kill. You stood there, jaw dropped, unable to look away. In what world could you walk in on someone like this, and feel like they held all the cards, and you none? That was how he looked at you; like you’d been there watching the whole time, and this was all a show, playing out exactly as he’d planned it. Like somehow, despite all your best efforts, he’d landed on top.
It was like he read your mind, because he wet his lips, unblinking as the blonde writhed on his lap, and fucking smirked.
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a/n: can’t wait for them to hate fuck after this (oh sorry forgot i’m the author for a sec) thanks for reading &lt;3
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taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii
if you’d like to be tagged, please leave a comment on the masterlist!! 💌
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helluvapoison · 9 months ago
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heyy i was wondering if you could do like Lucifer x reader getting married if ,you want to ofc🫶
btw i love your work so muchh, thank you!!🫶(also english is not my first language so i hope i didn't write anything wrong)
Absolutely I Do
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
a little insight to your wedding with the king
[part ii (18+ only)]
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
• What would be a tamer version of a bridezilla? Not quite lashing out at everyone and their mother over the tiniest details but blowing a fuse when white roses arrive and he specifically asked for white gardenias?
• That would be Lucifer
• Asmodeus is his best man and the other Sins are his groomsmen, they’ll handle the flower debacle and any other matter that needs saving
• Good natured Charlie was given, arguably, the easiest task of holding onto the rings! She’s more than capable of planning the entire event on her own (and she asked to… twice) but Lucifer wanted her to enjoy this wedding as he wouldn’t be having another
• It’s part of why he wants this to go perfectly!
• He never thought he’d find another love after Lilith. He didn’t even realize that while you were delicately filling in the crater she’d left, he was falling more and more in love with you
• The other part, his pride and perfectionism aside, is that while it may be his second wedding, it’s your first. In his eyes you deserve only the best and he’ll be damned all over again if he doesn’t deliver
• You told your fiancé (FUCK he loved that word coming out of your mouth, almost as much as he was going to like husband!) to at least try to not go overboard. To which you received a “Me? Overboard? Darling, I would never! Simple and elegant, that’s what the headlines will say!”
• The many, many, many vision boards said otherwise. However you already knew damn well “simple and elegant” translated to grandeur and extravagant– and that’s exactly what it was. To Lucifer’s credit, it wasn’t gaudy or blinding. It really was a gorgeous spectacle
• Per his request it’s an all white event, a stark contrast to the overall location. The guest list is massive. After all, Lucifer’s still a king and certain people would be offended if they missed an occasion like this. Everyone goes all out. Bodies pour into chairs, everyone dripping head to toe in white garments and glamorous jewels
• Lucifer preened and primped, checking the mirror a couple hundred times and asking whoever was in the room if he looked ok. Anything less than “outstanding” had him groaning as he turned back to the mirror
• The wedding suddenly seems like a terrible idea. Not because he has cold feet (he’s rather sweaty, actually) but because the moment he sees you he just wants to steal you away
• You are positively and wholly breathtaking. The stars are jealous over how you outshine them! He can’t do anything but stare in amazement as you walk down the aisle
• Does he, Lucifer Morningstar, vow to protect, love, cherish and serve you for all eternity? Undoubtedly. He adds a few his own too like spoil you rotten, compliment you hourly, never ever never let you feel like you’re alone— all things he’s already done but wanted to make it “official”
• “It’s been an honor to be your confidant and friend… but I’m dying to do that and more as your husband.”
• Then do you take him to have and to hold, for better or worse, richer or poorer?
• “I do.” You answer proudly, squeezing his hands ever so slightly
• Forgetting present company, forgetting he’s a king and supposed to act dignified, Lucifer doesn’t wait to get permission to kiss you. He jumps slightly, knowing you’ll catch him instantly. Hugging your neck he crashes his lips onto yours
• You giggle against him, returning the kiss briefly before setting him down. (Hell knows he’d get carried away and forget much more if you didn’t)
• “I do believe you’re my husband now, Luci.”
• The entire wedding may as well have been a surprise party the way his eyes widened, as if it only just set in what the ordeal was for
• “Oh my golly, I’m your husband. I’m your husband! Hey everybody, I'm their husband!”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ don’t apologize, you did great friend! thank you so mochi and i hope you enjoy
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mickyschumacher · 1 year ago
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𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: being in a secret relationship with lando norris has been a journey in itself. but nothing comes harder than the moments where you both struggle to keep your hands off one another.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), unprotected sex (wrap it before your tap it lol), cumming inside, voyeurism, fingering, slight handjob, boyfriend established but secret, cute cringe couple humour, obvious pining, poor knowledge of pr specialist things, mentions of mental health and stress, mclaren in itself needs a warning, mention of fave menace w*ll b*xton (simply ew), allusion of future marriage
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lando norris x mclaren’s pr specialist!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+
𝐀/𝐍: this is based of taylor swift’s ‘dress’! okay, so i’m giving you lovelies this one and some others while i study for my last exam 😔 i actually have some requests which are exciting and nerve wrecking but i'm gonna try my level best to do them after my exam. although i’m also supposed be on a plane not too soon after. anyways, thank you so much for your support and patience ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
As a PR specialist, things were constantly changing. For example, for a certain amount of time you were assigned to Fernando Alonso when he was under McLaren. Quite honestly, it was a nightmare.
There was nothing wrong with Fernando. For the time you had spent with him, he was rather sweet. But the media had painted him out as some sort of tyrant of McLaren, claiming that the F1 team belonged to him as opposed to being owned by Zak Brown. Then again, you supposed the Spaniard’s lack of care for listening didn’t help either.
When learning that Fernando was leaving, you could only hope that whoever you were assigned to next was less work than him.
In came Lando Norris, a young driver with ambition and humour, and lucky for you, little work.
Somehow he just knew the right things to say. And if he didn’t, he was always asking you beforehand.
Between the both of you there was only a two year age gap so of course it was easy to befriend each other. You were always talking about something to the other.
His passion for DJing, his childhood or your love for travelling and the gossip of certain celebrities. How you were absolutely certain JLo and Ben Affleck was a PR couple because who on earth had a nude portrait of themselves above their bed?
It wasn’t until almost a year ago where you realised you liked him more than just a friend. There was just something about the way you two communicated that left in trailed sighs, awkward laughs desperate to talk more and grins that got your hearts pacing.
Or perhaps it was the way you had poured your hearts out to one another. As happy as Lando looked, he was one under a lot of pressure which affected is mental health. You were there for all of this ups and downs. You were his number on speed dial for everything.
And when things got a little too much for you, Lando did his best to not only be there for you but to cheer you up. Stupid jokes, random flowers and, teddy bears.
How were you not supposed to like him?
Surprisingly, Lando had been the one to confess his feelings to you. Well, only after one of the engineers from Mercedes was openly trying to court you at an F1 dinner.
Lando had gotten so jealous that he had pulled you aside that evening and begged you to not think of anyone else but him. That you were only supposed to smile like that at him… with him.
At first, you were thrilled and kind of shocked that Lando felt the same way. But that happiness and smile he liked so much quickly faded when you thought about your job.
‘F1’s Lando Norris is dating his PR specialist’…
Yeah… the implications of that sounded terrible. You could imagine it already. What was Lando hiding to date his publicist? Is Lando that good of a person?
And while you and all the people knew the truth, those types of rumours would’ve undermined your job in the first place and honestly, you were sure that McLaren wouldn’t exactly be jumping with excitement that you two were dating.
So you mentioned this to Lando with the suggestion of being secret about your relationship for now.
You could literally see some of the shine in his eyes fade. He was gutted but he understood what you meant. He’d rather be with you secretly than not at all and without his best friend.
our secret moments in a crowded room
they've got no idea about me and you
there is an indentation in the shape of you
made your mark on me, a golden tattoo
Your relationship with him had been a roller coaster. Neither of you had been in a secret relationship and neither of you could deny how fun it was.
Take right now for example. Today was the McLaren’s car launch for the 2023 F1 season. The room was filled to the brim with all sorts of people: journalists, publicists, engineers, marketers, social media managers, the new driver next to Lando, Oscar.
Yet with all those people, Lando and you found it impossible to not find each other. You were constantly meeting each others eyes, especially when you were nearby for his interviews.
There was a thrill, you must admit, about no one knowing about the two of you.
A rush of adrenaline at the thought that no one knew nor expected you to be in Lando’s bedroom this very morning before the launch.
“Remember to be sort of vague about the car and, well, everything. I mean obviously but I don’t think Will’s going down without a fight,” you reminded your boyfriend with an annoyed sigh.
Will Buxton was not only a F1 journalist but a man who got under everyone’s skin. You couldn’t fathom why people liked him in the first place.
Lando, who was leaning on his elbow on his bed, gave a hum of response. He only had half of his mind present as he watched you get ready. “Surely, this can’t be fair,’ He asked.
You raised a brow at him through the mirror. “What?” You queried before putting on a necklace. Sorry, attempting to. You weren’t exactly sure why the clasps of necklaces were made so poorly.
Lando got up from the bed and walked up behind you. He grabbed the necklace from your hands with an amused expression before bringing it to your neck. With one hand, he pushed your hair to the side and joined the clasp to the metal ring. He rested his fingers on the back of your neck, slowly rubbing the area as he met your gaze in the mirror.
“I mean, you get to wear this,” Lando started. His hands ran over the satin silk material of your black dress. It was fairly casual, landing mid-thigh. Perfect enough for you to blend into the crowd. Although, it didn’t matter for Lando. He could always pick you from the crowd. Especially, if you were wearing this. “And I wear this? It doesn’t seem fair,” he whispered into your ear.
You let out a small laugh, eyeing his new uniform for the season. You turned to face him, rubbing your hands over his chest and pretending to dust it. “I think you look quite good, love.”
Lando narrowed his eyes. You felt his hand travel up your neck and to your lips. “When did you even buy this? It wasn’t even in your closet?”
Your heart started to pace when you caught that knowing glint in his eyes. His mended brows seemed to ease when you didn’t respond. Sometimes you didn’t need to open your mouth to say anything. Instead, you let your eyes talk.
A small grin came to his face. He turned you to face the mirror. His hands came alive, roaming your thigh and waist. “Just for me, huh?” Lando smiled.
“Lando,” you warned weakly. You had a feeling where this was going. Honestly, you weren’t opposed to it. But the both of you needed to clock in soon. “It’s supposed to come off after the launch.”
Lando pursed his lips, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck and meeting your gaze. “Oh, it supposed to come off too? Jesus, I don’t think I can’t wait that long.”
Lando could feel the perfume he has come to love so much infiltrate his nose. God, this dress and now the perfume. How on earth was he going to get out of here?
“Fuck,” He murmured out. He closed his eyes and rested his chin on your shoulder. He needed to get himself together. But the thing about your skin was that it was so inviting… so warm.
You felt his his arms wrap around your waist as you added some finishing touches to your look. Lando pouted at you through the mirror.
“What’s wrong, baby?” You cooed, squishing his cheeks with your free hand.
“I don’t think I can leave this room. I can’t,” Lando groaned, starting a line of kisses on your neck.
“Lando…” You whimpered out pathetically, feeling your neck stretch out even more willingly. You could feel him close in on the one area near your ear.
“Fuck, Lando. Not there,” You swore but with no effort to stop him.
Lando’s greed seem to increase upon your exclaim. He furthered his attack on the spot, sucking enough of your intoxicating skin, not only to get his full but leave a fresh purple mark.
Now he was satisfied enough to leave the room.
You watched his lips leave your skin, almost leaving you to pour for a second before that dark spot on your skin caught your eyes.
You gasped. “You didn’t,” you said in disbelief, whacking your boyfriend.
Lando’s blues twinkled at you as he planted a cheeky kiss to your cheek. “I did.”
Now you were in a room of all these people. It was exhilarating for Lando to know that he had given you a tattoo of some sorts. To attend those interviews and know that behind your carefully placed hair, he had given you something no one else would ever… yeah, he was aching to leave.
It wasn’t any less for you. Even last night you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You were walking around with the fact that you knew what was underneath the damn racing gear. The scratches and indentations of your hands on his skin caused by the will to bring Lando even closer to you.
all of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation
my hands are shaking from holding back from you… ha, ah, ah
all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting
my hands are shaking from all this… ah, ha, ha, ha
Lando was looking at you probably more than one should look at their PR specialist to the point he was sure you could feel his eyes on you.
But he couldn't help. Every little thing you did in that dress had caught his attention.
Your pinky-red painted lips covering the champagne glass you held. Those lips he wanted for himself. On him. Everywhere. Now.
The occasional brush of your hands that sent shudders he had to surpress.
The lights of the venue practically spotlighting you so everyone could see how beautiful you looked. So Lando could see exactly how nicely the dress clung to everyone of those damning curves.
The polite smiles you offered every single person you met. A gesture that sent his heart racing.
The forced polite laughter and chuckles you gave to the people that flirted with you. A gesture that made him both proud and frustrated. Proud in that you were clearly faking it because he knew what your real smile and laugh was. Hell, he had the pleasure of making it everyday. And that people clearly found you as beautiful as he did. Frustrated because people were clearly into you and he could do nothing but watch in silence.
Lando couldn't blame them either. If he was them, he too would've stopped to impress. But he didn't need to. Not when you were his entirely and he yours.
The more he looked at you the more his hands shook and his patience wore thin. His hands ached for this day to end, for him to take you to his room, and remove that goddamn dress.
He could imagine what his former teammates Carlos and Daniel say. Something along the lines of "stop staring at her like you want to eat her".
Which, in all honestly, wasn't true.
Lando didn't want to eat you. He wanted to devour you. Slowly and gently. He wanted to appreciate you... all of you. So much that only his name was falling from those beautiful lips of yours.
say my name and everything just stops
i don't want you like a best friend
only bought this dress so you could take it off
take it oh, ha, ha, ha-ah
carve your name into my bedpost
'cause i don't want you like a best friend
only bought this dress so you could take it off
take it oh, ha, ha, ha-ah
Lando couldn't imagine the poor luck he had. The event was finally over and he was home. Without you.
You had become slightly tied with some last minute discussions with the reporters and journalists, even your dear favourite Will.
Which meant for the past hour, Lando had nothing but his thoughts. Thoughts that consisted only of you, that dress, and what he was going to do with you.
What was he supposed to do?
Unbothered to put on a new change of clothes, Lando was in bed only in his boxers which had a very obvious bulge.
Lando let out a sigh, his hand brushing over his clothed cock. "Fuck," he muttered out through a clenched jaw. If it was any other day, he would've lost all self-control and jerked off to his thoughts of you. But you were going to be home soon and he desperately wanted to feel you.
"Lando? Honey, I'm home!" Your voice echoed through his house, teasing him.
Lando whipped his head up, feeling all his thoughts and emotions briefly stop as he darted towards the entrance.
You were taking of your heels when you saw Lando stand in all his glory almost naked. You couldn't help but laugh lightly. "Oh my... I thought we discussed you not walking around the house naked, Lando."
Lando said nothing. Instead, he took a step towards, eyes searching your face and arms encircling your body closer to him.
The hairs on your body stood straight while goosebumps started to sprawl across your skin. Lando's thumb brushed across your bottom lip. "You were later than expected," He said in a tone that almost neared a whine.
You let out a sigh, kissing the tip of his thumb. "I know. I'm sorry, baby."
Lando grinned. "It's okay," He quipped before scooping you up in his arms.
You let out a yelp before smiling as Lando ventured to your bedroom. You could soon feel the soft sheets of your bed touch your skin while Lando hovered over you.
"You have to tell me what the deal with this dress is, love," Lando whispered. His finger slid under the strap of your dress before trailing all the way down to your bare breast.
You opened your mouth to answer but not even a hint of a sound came out as Lando's finger circled your nipple gently. You met his eager blue eyes, waiting for answer.
"I only bought this dress so you can take it off. Simple as that."
Lando let out a low exhale, feeling his cock harden even further. God, were you even real?
"Yeah?" He hummed, pushing the straps of your dress down your arms. He pushed his face down lower, wrapping his lips around your nipple as he continued to pull your dress down your body.
Your back arched on the bed, pushing yourself into his mouth even further. Without a word, you lifted your hips up and Lando had fully taken the dress off.
His other hand reached your other nipple, paying it an equal amount of attention. He rolled the pebbled mound between his thumb and index finger, giving it a slight squeeze.
You let out a small whimper. Your hand navigating through his short curls. You could feel your core tighten and your pussy become slick with your arousal.
Lando unlatched his lips from your breasts, using both hands to gently thumb your nipples. "Tell me want you want, love. I want to hear it from these pretty lips."
God... you couldn't even decide. "I don't know. I want your lips. Your fingers. Fuck, I want it all."
Lando couldn't help but grin as a he felt a surge of energy rush through. "I can do it all," He chuckled before bringing his lips to yours. His tongue darted between your lips and into your mouth. His hands trailed up and down your waist while a muffled moan came out of his mouth.
You kissed him back with the same intensity of fervor, bringing your hands around his neck, willing him closer to you.
Lando could tell by the slight squirm of your legs, you were getting impatient down there. Slowly, he trailed down your waist and reached your panties. His own lips quirked at the damp material. Pressing his fingers into your core, he could feel a shudder overcome you.
Lando continued his assault on your lips as he rubbed you through your panties.
You removed your lips in a gasp for air. "Don't tease, Lando," You moaned out, clenching your thighs so it trapped his hand to your pussy.
Lando chuckled. He used his free hand to brush over your swollen lips. God, he wanted those lips around his cock. Maybe tomorrow morning. Or maybe in the shower tonight. Right now, he wanted to focus on you. "Say please. A good girl should always use her manners, no?"
This good girl thing had always infuriated you. It felt childish. But then it paled in comparison to the tingling and blossoming sensation of Lando's fingers rubbing your clit.
But of course, if you were going to be a good girl, you were always going for extra credit.
"Please, Lando. Fuck. I need your fingers. Please. I love the way they fill me up. The way they feel in me. Please."
Lando wanted to grin. But all he could do was groan in response. How could he not reward his dear overachiever?
His fingers pulled down your panties, snatching down the damp material past your legs. A guttural sound of pure sin fell from his mouth as he saw your pussy. It glistened in front of him, almost as if it was flooded. Sliding his fingers down those soaked folds, he watched you writhe under him and whimper.
Lando kept his eyes on you as he pushed two fingers into you slowly. He could feel your core envelope him and welcome him graciously. He watched your back arch once he began thrusting into a pace, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.
"Shit," you moaned, reaching for your breasts to both add even more pleasure and bring some sort of sanity. "Faster, baby. Please."
Lando sped up the pace of his fingers, bringing his thumb to rub your clit. His eyes flickered to your pussy. He licked his lips. You were swollen and engorged. Your puffy lips continuously took him in and it was almost paining his cock that he wasn't inside you yet.
A new intense wave of euphoria settled over you. Your body convulsed with a buzz that provided the almost silent moans from your mouth. "Fuck.... I... I'm gonna come," You moaned out, head falling back as your mind became clouded with pleasure.
Lando's cock throbbed from not being touched. He could do it no longer.
The whine you released when Lando took his fingers out of you almost made him want to put them back in. But instead, with a speed he had never even found in his car, he took off his boxers and hovered over your body.
"I know. I know," Lando murmured, pressing his lips into yours to silence your begging plea.
You placed your own fingers in your mouth, drenching them in your saliva. Removing them, your hand travelled down his waist, brushing past his v-line before circling your hand around his cock. You could feel Lando moan into the kiss, briefly stilling at your touch.
Slowly you rubbed him up and down, dangerously thumbing the slit of his cock. You watched as your saliva lubed him, giving him a unique shine. Your shine.
"Jesus fucking christ," Lando moaned out. He was sure if you kept up like this, he was going to cum in your hands rather than inside you.
"Fuck, as much I love your hands and touch. I need to be in you, baby," Lando sighed, removing your hand from his cock and slowly pressing into your body to slide his cock up and down your pussy.
You moaned at his words, feeling his lips wrap around your nipple once again.
"Stop teasing," You panted. The buzz created by the tip of his cock rubbing your clit was almost paining and torturous.
Lando didn't even mean to tease. But even just feeling your pussy felt like a different type of high. He groaned, pushing the tip of his cock into your swollen lips. A rush of warmth surged through him as he laid in you for a brief moment.
Your pussy was a safe haven. A cocoon made for his cock. This high... this pleasure... he could feel it with no one than you.
You sobbed in ecstasy. Lando was almost bring cruel. You raised your hips, fucking yourself onto your cock.
Lando had to keep himself above you, almost collapsing at your action. He let out a small laugh at your impatience before he started to move in you.
As he thrusted into you, you could feel his cock glide through your folds, reaching those familiar areas of arousal. You clenched your walls around him teasingly, silently urging him to speed.
"Fucking hell," Lando hissed out, speeding up the movement of your hips.
Sweat and arousal doused the both of you as the room was full of your pants and the obscene sound of your skin slapping.
"I'm gonna cum soon, baby," Lando said once you clenched around him once again. This clenching action always drove him overboard. It pulled him in even further into you and pressured his cock to pulse inside of you.
"It's okay. Cum with me," You moaned, bringing him into a sloppy kiss.
Your muffled moans became impossibly higher as Lando rutted into you at a merciless speed. The wave of pleasure and euphoria that had sprawled across the both of you was inexplicable. A transient unearthly state of mind. A paradox of what was holy and unholy.
Your hands had found their way to Lando's back. Your fingernails dug lightly into the smooth skin of his back. You dragged them down as your hips bucked higher in the chase of the climax.
"Fuck! Lando!" You cursed.
Lando could feel his cock twitch and throb inside you. The nails. His name. Your lips. It was any second now. "Fuck. Say my name, Y/N!"
'When your eyes had started to roll, you blinked focusing on the most beautiful boy in front of you. God he was a sight to behold. Blue eyes hooded with lust, lips swollen and puffy... albeit sweaty, but handsome nonetheless. 'When your eyes had started to roll, you blinked focusing on the most beautiful boy in front of you. God he was a sight to behold. Blue eyes hooded with lust, lips swollen and puffy... albeit sweaty, but handsome nonetheless.
"Lando!" You moaned, "I love you so much, Lando! Fuck!"
Your loud groans disturbed the quiet peace of the air as Lando and you felt the wave of euphoria hit you hard, his hips stilled within you. His body shook, warming your walls and folds with an influx of white.
Lando let out a soft moan, chin falling into your shoulder while both your sweaty bodies pressed together. You could still feel Lando's cock within you, giving every last dribble of cum to you.
"I love you, I love you, I love you.," Lando's hoarse voiced mantra made it's way into your ear. He planted a lazy kiss onto your shoulder before turning his body to face the ceiling. "Fuck, I love you so much, Y/N."
You turned on the side of your body, leaning on your hand. Your eyes were weighed with exhaustion but nevertheless you smiled at him. "I guess I should buy more dresses often," You joked.
You could feel Lando's body rumble with a gentle chuckle. His hand reached to move your sweat-ridden hair behind your ears. His blue eyes trailed over your face, in awe of how he had gotten this lucky in his life. The woman he loved so much was right next to him and he hoped forever.
Lando smiled at you, bringing your fingers to kiss them. He briefly thought backed to the small box he had managed to hide away in his closet. Three podiums. He was going to get three podiums and make sure that ring adorned your finger.
"Love, I'll buy all the dresses you want. And I'll take them off for you too."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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dovveri · 3 months ago
Text
strangers
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synopsis: trainee life is a lot tougher than you thought, but with three other trainees you met along the way, you have a little more hope that it’ll all be worth it in the end.
warnings: bad eating habits, mentions of vomiting and self-induced vomiting, swearing, suggestive, TOE-SUCKING, alcohol and parties, lots of feelings and trainee life angst
w/c: 19.2k !!!!! why is this like half of my entire bachelorette series jeezus
a/n: requested!! i actually dont fill reqs this quick but i had the idea alr and i lwk love writing poly i just think its so much messier and more confusing and FUN so writing this came a lot easier than writing other reqs do. also u lwk only have to read half of this and be happy yippee happily ever after OR u can potentially hurt urself and enjoy the angst but idk it’s not THAT bad so 🤗
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
“y/n?”
you blink, tilting your head up from your hiding spot under the table in the recording studio. it’s nayeon, one of the korean trainees. you hurriedly wipe your eyes on your sleeve, stumbling upwards and almost knocking your head on the bottom of the table.
“s-sorry. were you using this room? i’ll get out now-“
“no no! it’s okay i was just going to get some practice in and i saw you. are you… are you okay?” you appreciate her speaking slower for you, your grasp of korean still wasn’t the best.
“y-yeah i’m fine. i’ll just- leave you to it- sorry again-“
“are you sure? today’s actually my day off so i don’t have to be doing anything. i’m happy to just listen if you want…?”
you gulp, avoiding her gaze, nayeon was one of the trainees that everyone knew would most likely make it. you didn’t see much of her because she was always off on side jobs filming as a background dancer for music videos, booking small modelling gigs, and she was generally in more advanced classes than yours and was even set to debut in a group with a few others before the idea was scrapped. she was steadily making a name for herself even before the public knew her, something you couldn’t help but be envious of. but here she was, offering to listen to you of all people.
“i- um-“
“it’s okay. you can take your time.” she smiles sweetly, “i tried to take a few english classes but it’s a lot more difficult than i thought it’d be. so i can understand how hard it must be to come to a different country and learn a whole new language.”
“t-thank you. i was just um- i was actually just thinking about calling home and… and quitting.”
she nods, eyes filled with empathy, waiting for you to continue.
“i just- don’t think i can make it. there’s so many talented people here and this has always been my dream but i’m just not good enough and i don’t even- it doesn’t even make sense for me to be here when i could be back home getting an education or i don’t know- doing something with my life.”
“you don’t think what you’re doing now is something?”
you sigh, gripping your arm firmly, "it- it is but i don't know if it's all going to work out in the end."
"and you think going back home and going to school will guarantee things working out for you?"
"well- i- no, not for certain but-"
"so isn't the only difference that you actually want to do this? you don't want to end up working an office job for the rest of your life right?"
"but- like i'm more likely to get an office job than i am to debut-"
"i'm sure the office jobs will wait for you. idol life won't. if you don't make it, then the office job will always be there right? it's up to you though, i'm not trying to convince you to stay or leave, i just think it's a shame when you have a real chance at getting what you've dreamt of your whole life. you were scouted weren't you? did you know i auditioned to get in? and i had to hide it from my family because they didn't think this was a realistic job prospect, not when i was still in high school. so if you think you don't belong here, just remember you beat out other auditionees to get your spot as a trainee here, so you were good enough for that." she smiles brightly, her two protruding front teeth proudly on display, giving her the adorable likeability to a rabbit.
her words bring you back from the edge of panic, you've always looked at her through a lens of jealousy, wishing you had as much natural talent and star power as she did, but right now, you could see she was so much more than that, and you respected her for it, admired her for it.
"thank you nayeon." you finally meet the older girl's eyes, and her smile grows even brighter.
"of course. do you have any training schedules to get to right now? or do you want to stay here and practice some vocal chords with me?"
"would that be okay?" your eyes widen at her offer.
"yes! don't be silly y/n i know we're all meant to be competing or whatever but we're most likely going to debut in a group right? we can't just be out for each other's throats all the time."
you smile, finding her attitude refreshing, most of the trainees you had met were exactly like that, and you felt even more isolated when it was obvious they made no effort to get to know you because of the language barrier, to them, it was just another advantage they had over you.
"c'mon. let's see what you got."
your motivation reinvigorated, you spend the rest of the afternoon cooped up in the recording studio with nayeon, practicing together but also joking around and laughing, being the kids you were in an industry that stripped you of that freedom.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
"これの読み方を知っていますか?"
"いいえ、私は愚かです."
you shuffle uncomfortably in your seat, unable to shake the insecurity that they were talking about you. you were currently in your intensive korean class, waiting for the teacher to appear. the class was mostly quiet, except for the two girls sitting a table away from you, whispering and laughing, pushing each other around playfully.
when you glance towards them again, one of them meets your eye. you panic, whipping your head back down to your open textbook.
the girl who saw you whispers something to her seatmate, nodding towards you, bringing the other girl's attention to you as well.
you strain to see what they're doing in your peripheral vision, but the little giggles and whispers have you shrinking in even more on yourself, thinking they were making fun of you for whatever reason.
you don't notice when the one who spotted you first is suddenly standing next to you. she waits for you to acknowledge her, but when you don't she giggles again, leaning down and tilting her head so you had to look at her.
"hi. my name sana. you?"
"y-y/n."
"y/n? nice to meet you! that momo." she steps back a little and points at the other girl who waves shyly at you. you stare back at her, dumbfounded, reciprocating her wave.
"you... korean good?"
you blink, unsure of what to say, "umm... it's okay i guess."
sana grins, all teeth, almost blinding you, running back to her seat and picking up her textbook, skipping back towards you and plopping down in the empty seat next to you. she points at the page, "how to do?"
you look down to the question she has circled, it was part of the homework set from the last lesson. you flick back to that page in your own textbook, showing her and trying to explain with gestures what it was asking.
when it clicks, that blinding smile graces her features again, her eyes lighting up and quickly scribbling down the answer. then she turns to momo who seemed to be doodling little drawings all over her workbook instead of studying.
"モモリ馬鹿野郎 ! これがあなたのやり方です."
you shrink back into your seat, thinking she was done with you, only needing you to help her with her homework, and now that she was done, she could go back to making fun of you.
but instead, momo looks over curiously, standing up and hovering over the two of you. sana starts talking in rapid japanese, her hands flailing around excitedly.
momo nods along, and then she seems to get a moment of realisation, her eyebrows raising and mouth opening in the shape of an o, an "ahh!" escaping her.
sana looks back to you, "thank you! you so smart!"
you still don't really follow their conversation but you nod, shyly rubbing the back of your neck, "it's okay."
"we sit here?"
"sorry?"
sana frowns, an adorable pout forming on her lips, thinking over how to say what she wants. then she grabs momo's hand, gesturing between the both of them, "friends!", then she grabs your hand, gesturing between the three of you now, "friends?"
your hand is sweaty against sana's, you take note of how soft it feels against yours, heart stumbling a little over itself. you nod sheepishly, not expecting sana to grin, pulling you into a hug immediately.
momo goes to grab her things, and then settles into the seat on your other side, "sorry for her. she very huggy."
sana pouts, flicking momo's forehead playfully after she pulls away from you, "you like it too."
momo giggles, rolling her eyes.
things were moving so fast your brain was playing catch up. you knew the people here were a lot more affectionate than back home, but you still felt your heart racing from being in such close proximity with sana, and now momo too, the both of them squeezed against you and conversing lightly in broken korean and japanese while waiting for the teacher. it wasn't unwelcome though, this was the first time someone had asked you in such a straightforward way to become friends, it was refreshing, definitely better than the trainees in your vocal and dance classes who refused to interact with you at all.
when the teacher finally comes, he looks a little surprised at the change in seating, but doesn't comment on it, diving straight into the lesson.
sana and momo both try their best to keep up, sana remains fully engaged in the lesson, asking plenty of questions, while momo is the opposite. she's easily distracted, when the teacher goes on one of his off topic rants, she starts doodling in her textbook again, you repress a laugh at the stick men she drew frolicking around in fields with rainbows and stars. you can't help yourself but bring your pen to her page, adding a little deranged dog to her drawing.
she looks at you in surprise, but lets you finish, giggling at the result and drawing in some fur for the dog, fixing up your sorry attempt at a puppy.
the class finishes uneventfully after that. momo yawns, closing her book with relief while sana stretches, standing up and grinning down at the both of you.
momo looks at her warily, squinting, "what?"
"what?"
"you have not good look on your face. what you do?"
"what do you mean momoring?" sana's grin only grows wider.
"i don't want to get in trouble again."
"you woooon't. what you think y/n? want to sneak out get fried chicken and beer?"
momo groans, slumping down on her desk, muttering to herself in japanese while sana laughs at her reaction.
you look between the both of them, raising an eyebrow. you knew you shouldn't, but you hadn't had real food in so long, the company's strict diet and weight requirements always on all of your minds. and you hadn't really gone out and explored korea since you arrived. you'd pretty much been confined to the dorms and the company building, eating cafeteria food and living the same routine everyday, you knew the korean trainees would often get together after late night practices and have small gatherings the company wouldn't know about, but you were never invited to those.
you grin cheekily, "you have a plan?"
sana laughs, pulling you up to stand, hugging you once again in glee, "yay!! i knew we good friends! of course, it's not the first time momoring and i have snuck out." she pulls away with a wink.
momo grumbles behind you, slowly standing up as well, "last time you got us caught you said we were helping 'clean the streets'. stupid. we had extra exercise requirements for two weeks."
"we won't get caught this time! i promise! and if we do i pay for all our food."
momo perks up at that, eyeing sana, then holding out her pinky.
sana giggles, linking their pinkies and then dragging momo by their pinkies, and you by your hand out of the classroom and back towards the dorms to get ready.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
"sana- move!" momo grunts, shuffling around in clothes too big for her, a cap that dipped over her eyes, and a mask to hide her face.
"shh! you're gonna get us caught!"
"no you are!"
"okay they're gone let's go." sana slinks forward in similar attire, careful to avoid the security cameras, flapping a sleeve behind her frantically to gesture the both of you to follow. momo glances at you, rolling her eyes but smiling, tiptoeing forward and following sana.
you're body is surging with adrenaline. you had always been a 'good' kid. you've never tried sneaking out of anywhere before. you were also trying to hold in your laughter at how stupid the three of you must look, the sunglasses covering your eyes while indoors and at 9pm at night glazing your vision.
you make it halfway across the main entrance, almost to the exit, hands shoved in your pockets.
"... y/n?"
you pause, heart pounding. the two in front of you stop as well, sana looks back at you in alarm.
you decide the best course of action is to pretend you didn't hear them. after all, they couldn't be sure you were yourself right now right? the absurd disguises made sure of that. you take another step forward.
"y/n what are you wearing? you look like vector from despicable me."
curse sana for lending you that naruto cosplay. you forgot how visible your disguise was.
you turn on your heel slowly, terribly embarrassed to have been discovered like this, mind scrambling to come up with an excuse for what the three of you were doing.
but you're stopped in your tracks when you realise who was teasing you with a wide grin, two front teeth on display. she laughs when she finally sees you, it's loud and bright, it'd scare you away if you hadn't already heard it plenty of times from her when she had found you in the practice room that day.
"you look so stupid. wait-" she whips out her phone, and before you can protest, she snaps a quick picture, laughing at her phone after checking the result.
"nayeonn!"
"i can't believe you tried to sneak out wearing that."
you pout, crossing your arms protectively over yourself, "i wasn't trying to sneak out!"
she raises an eyebrow, "yeah and i'm not gorgeous." she jokes sarcastically, before peeking over your shoulder and nodding behind you, "and who are those two losers behind you?"
you turn, taking off your ridiculous sunglasses and waving to let them know you were fine and to join you. sana tilts her head curiously, moving back towards you, tugging along momo who takes off her cap, blowing her hair out of her face.
"oh! you're the japanese duo that came here on the same day! i'm sorry i don't remember your names but i saw you dance and you were incredible." she directs the last part at momo, who blushes at the compliment, nodding and hiding behind her hair. sana grins though, bowing down and bringing momo down with her.
"i'm sana! this is momo!"
"nayeon. it's nice to meet you both." nayeon smiles sweetly, bowing as well and gesturing for them to stand up. "where were you guys headed?"
"chicken and beer! you want to come?" sana quips happily, excited to meet anyone new.
"how were you guys going to get beer?" nayeon jokes with a smirk.
sana tilts her head confusedly, she looks adorable in the clothes that drown her.
"you're all underage right?"
sana looks to you in confusion, not seeming to understand what underage meant.
"ah- none of us are 18..." you gesture to the three of you.
sana makes a sound of exclamation, not having thought about that particular detail.
nayeon laughs brightly, finding the japanese girl's antiques endearing. "good thing you have me then! c'mon. i know the best place as well, and no one from the company will go around there so we won't get caught." she winks, pulling a mask and cap out of her jacket pocket and slipping it on.
you blink, surprised at the change in events.
nayeon shrugs, "always gotta be ready if we're training to be idols right?" you can see the smirk in her eyes, before she charges forward without an answer and leads the four of you into the night.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
your shoulder hurt.
there's another bout of laughter, you flinch, preparing yourself.
sure enough, nayeon's large hands come clapping down on your arm, you wince, trying to smile your way through the sting of each slap.
it doesn't help when sana realises why you look constipated, cracking up even more pointing at you with a hand over her mouth, which makes nayeon laugh again for absolutely no other reason than that you were all wasted.
"nayeonnie calm down- you're going to kill y/n-" sana chokes out between giggles.
nayeon blinks, looking at you, face brightly flushed. she pouts, leaning in close, "what did i do?"
you flush even brighter, blaming the alcohol and not the way nayeon's eyes are glued to your lips, squinting and trying to focus on one part of your face only with her wobbly vision. you push her off of you gently, rubbing at your shoulder with a grimace, "you hit people when you're drunk.""
nayeon coos, chasing after you, "awwwwwh did i hurt you? poor baby. here lemme kiss it better." nayeon purses her lips together, pushing her face towards you while you whine and laugh, trying to push her away.
sana pipes up at the word, "kiss? who are we kissing? i wanna kiss!"
momo snorts, playing around with the bottle cap of the soju you had gotten to after you had all decided the beer wasn't enough. her face is probably the most flushed of you all, but she was also probably the most sane of you all currently. "don't you kiss enough?"
sana whines, poking momo's cheek, "no! you don't let me! c'mere-" she leans forward, tickling momo's sides, trying to get her to let her defenses down and land one on her. momo laughs, pushing sana off, scrambling away in urgency.
you aren't faring much better, but then you get an idea, "sanaaa! kiss nayeon! she's trying to get me!"
sana turns to you both, and she's never one to turn down a kiss so she leans across the table, yanking nayeon's head towards her and pulling her away from you. but what surprises you is when she plants a sloppy kiss right on the eldest's lips.
you look at momo, expecting to see a similar look reflected, but she rolls her eyes, calmly picking up the bottle and bringing it to her lips again to take a sip.
they break away with a smack, exaggerated on sana's end who giggles and licks her lips, grabbing the bottle from momo and taking a sip as well.
nayeon blinks, her brain seeming to catch up with her body 2 seconds late. when she realises what happens, she stands up abruptly with a screech, her metal chair scraping against the floor in pain. you wince at the sound, but laugh when you catch her face, now brighter than momo's, hand over her mouth in shock. sana and momo easily join you, cackling as nayeon flails around, sounds coming out of her mouth in incoherent phrases.
it seems the shop owner has had enough of the four of you though.
"yah! out! all of you! bedtime! 2am now! go go!" you all continue laughing as you're ushered out of your seats. you're all too drunk to notice the way the shop owner has fondly been watching you for the last few hours, cleaning around and keeping her shop open later than she normally opens, recalling the days she was young and stupid as well. she shouts at you while she pushes you out the door, but she also shoves a plastic bag of takeaway chicken into your hands as she pushes you out, telling you all to go home and not to cause too much trouble at this time of night.
you all laugh and thank her, sana even goes to kiss her cheek, cooing at how adorable she was in her apron and wrinkles.
when you've finally calmed down and take in the chill air of the night sky, you shiver a little, the alcohol sloshing around in your body not enough to keep you warm.
momo sidles up next to you, linking your hands together easily and pulling you against her.
you grin at her, tightening your grip around her hand that she's shoved into the warm pocket of her jacket pocket.
the peace is quickly disrupted when nayeon sends a stumbled kick your way from behind you. she misses though, tripping over herself and almost falling face-flat onto the ground save for sana hooking onto her waist quickly, pulling her back up with a laugh.
nayeon wraps an arm around sana's shoulder, thanking her for the support. "yah. you two. kiss. i can't be the only one who had to kiss someone today."
sana pouts, "why do you say that like you didn't like it?"
nayeon sputters, squinting up at sana from her slouched position, her weight almost entirely leaning on sana, "no i didn't- i didn't mean it like- no but- ugh-"
sana giggles, shuffling around so she can accommodate nayeon better.
momo turns her head, "no way loser. you two only kissed because you're both so kissy."
"what does that even mean?!"
"sana kisses everyone when she's drunk. and you're just as bad nayeon. i don't know how you can go drinking with just one person. you need at least 2 or 3 to hold you up when you get drunk." momo teases, sticking out her tongue.
"respect your elders you little shit!"
you all laugh at that, nayeon may have gotten you all drinks but she wasn't that much older than you. and she looks hilarious bringing a fist up in the air and waving it around like a little angry old lady, too much spite in too little a body, it was cute.
"wait... so the only one i haven't kissed yet is y/n?"
you freeze, ready to make a run for it at the earliest sign of danger.
nayeon grins, pushing sana off of her and towards you, "let's change that!"
your eyes widen, legs tensing up, ready to rush forward, you pull your intertwined hands out of momo's pocket. but right as you're about to take off, momo smirks, yanking you backwards and spinning you around until you're met with the soft, ready lips sana has wating for you.
"mmf-!"
your eyes are squeezed shut when momo spun you, terrified of falling onto your face, but now all you can feel is her hand still holding yours, sana's coming up to steady your hips, her lips pressing against yours gently.
all too quickly, she breaks away with a giggle, licking her lips again. it must be a habit.
you stare at her dumbly, mouth hanging open, lips tingling with the faint taste of strawberry soju.
nayeon has ended up on the floor without anyone supporting her, cackling loudly and pointing at your dumbfounded look.
momo stifles a few chuckles as well, her hand still wrapped tightly around yours.
sana simply smiles, closing your mouth with her hand, brushing a thumb over your jaw in the process, then tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
you flush up immediately, whipping around and staring at the floor, the tips of your ears bright red.
sana laughs, cooing, "awwwwh! you're so cute! look at her guys! she's blushing!"
"no!" you speak up indignantly, voice squeaky, "i'm just drunk!"
"you're more red than me!" momo joins in, trying to get a look at your face better with a laugh, her nose scrunching up in glee.
you whine, trying to pull away from her, but she doesn't let your hand go, so you end up pulling her along with you as you stomp forward, eager to get home and away from your teasing new friends.
sana laughs, running after you both.
that left nayeon, still on the floor in the middle of the street at 3am. "guys! hey guys! don't forget me! come back! hey- wait!"
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
the four of you grow easily close after that night. and it helps that by chance, you're all allocated into the same dorm room for the new year. it's definitely a surprise since nayeon was one of the company's top trainees, and the rest of you were foreigners and had only been around for about 2 months. you'd heard it was meant to help the three of you get better at korean, having to converse in korean daily with a korean roommate so that existing friends like sana and momo couldn't get away with just talking in japanese when they were in the comfort of their dorms. plus, it seemed both sana and momo were making a name for themselves amongst the trainees as well for their bubbly idol personality and raw talent respectively.
"how's this?" nayeon comes out of the bathroom and does a little twirl, her hair already curled and makeup applied dazzlingly. she's wearing a pretty silk white dress with little blue bows decorating it, matching the blue ribbons she's used in her hair.
sana squeals, immediately bounding upwards and poking at her. "it's so cute! when did you get this?!"
"the last family trip i went on! are you sure it's okay?" nayeon pouts.
but then momo yells out from behind her, still doing her eyeliner in your shared bathroom mirror, "you look fine stop digging for compliments."
sana laughs cheerily when nayeon sputters back at her, latching onto the older girl and pecking her cheek, "it's okay nayeonnie i don't mind. i'll praise you anytime you want." there's a slight lilt to her voice, she finishes with a wink.
nayeon blushes immediately, but tries to cover for it by turning to you. "y/n? what do you think?"
you roll your eyes from your spot on sana's bed, more focused on applying the dark blue nail polish on your hands. "it's pretty."
"just pretty?" you can hear the pout in her voice.
you sigh exasperatedly, looking up at her in mock annoyance. "you're gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, exquisite, glamorous, everyone at the party will have their eyes on you."
you can hear momo fake gag from the bathroom, and sana bursting into giggles. but nayeon crosses her arms, frowning, "you see when you list it out like that it makes it a little harder to believe."
"ugh nayeon! you look good! what more do you want from me!"
she laughs, leaning down to squish your cheeks together affectionately, "thanks darling, i love my little thesaurus."
you grumble, careful not to get the drying nail polish onto sana's sheets. sana comes back to her position next to you, grabbing your hands and starting to blow on your fingers.
"what time does the party start again?" momo yells out from the bathroom, slipping into her outfit for the night.
"like... 10 minutes ago but it's fine. no one interesting is gonna get there on time." nayeon squeezes in next to you as well, leaning her head on your shoulder.
"that's because you're only interested in yourself."
"hey! i can revoke my invite to all of you!"
"you wanted us to go because you'd be, quote, bored out of your mind with all those mindless prepubescent boys trying to get in your pants! besides, we all got our own invites anyway."
"what?! why didn't you tell me?!"
"you were so cute thinking you were doing us all a solid or something for inviting us." sana speaks up with a giggle, "we couldn't break that!"
"you couldn't sana! i wanted to tell her and shove it up her proud ass but you just love to watch cute girls fumble around don't you?"
sana giggles again, going back to blowing on your nails.
but then momo steps out of the bathroom, clad in a very short bodycon dress, her makeup and hair fully done, the dress cutting open at her midriff showing off toned abs, pretty gold necklace decorating her neck, outlining her collarbones and the plunging neckline that pretty much ended at her belly button, tying together the cutout.
the three of you all stare at her, eyes roaming over the mass of skin, mouths open in... shock.
sana licks her lips slowly, eyes not bothering to meet her best friend's again, "you look... good."
momo smirks, imitating what's meant to be nayeon, "just good?"
nayeon bristles then, snapping out of her stupor, "shut up momo. don't you think you're... showing a bit too much skin?"
momo starts looking around for her shoes, bending over criminally with her back to you all, it's almost comedic how all three of your gazes lock onto her ass immediately. "this is nothing compared to some of the outfits they put us in when we do our showcases. besides, it's not like you can talk." she snorts, turning back around with heels in hand, her smirk never leaving her face as she watches the three of you, knowing exactly what you were doing.
"yeah but you'll... get cold."
"it's an indoor party."
"shut up!"
she laughs, standing back up after slipping into her shoes, "okay! ready to go?"
you gulp, standing up shakily, forcing you to look at her face and not ogle your friend's very attractive body. "y-yeah. took you all long enough."
"you finished practice earlier than us, you had more time to get ready. now let's go losers."
she leads the charge out your tiny shared room, nayeon gets up and follows grumpily. you look back down to sana who's still got her gaze locked on the way both girls' hips sway with each step. you roll your eyes, poking sana and dragging her up with a laugh. sana lets you, her brain short-circuiting, only able to be tugged along.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
you honestly had no idea how a party of this scale went unnoticed by the company. there were so many trainees you recognised, and even a few idols that were lesser known to the public. it was at someone's house, you don't remember who's, but there was no way you could've gotten away with a party this size back at the dorms.
music was blasting, drinks were being circulated, people were dancing and grinding up against each other. it wasn't a surprise to see the amount of rowdiness going on, that's what happened when you force a bunch of teenagers to undergo strict training and diet regimes, and forbid anything that could get anyone into any sorts of controversies in the future in case you made it and got famous.
the four of you had naturally split up when you arrived, being pulled away by different friends and people wanting to greet you. you spot momo on the dance floor already, not that it was difficult to seperate her from everyone else. sure you were all trainees and went through mandatory dance class, but everyone knew momo was something else when it came to dance. she had an aura about her, one that made people back up and give her space, circling her on the crowded floor and watching in awe of her moves.
you can hear nayeon before you spot her. she's with jihyo and jeongyeon, two other trainees that she was set to debut with, and granted, was naturally close with. they were all top-notch trainees at the company, everyone knew of them, knew that the next group coming out of jyp would most likely include the three of them.
that left sana, someone people naturally gravitated towards. her adorable happy-go-lucky energy was infectious, it was impossible not to fall in love with her at first sight. she was currently surrounded by a crowd of people, laughing and smiling, face tinged with the pink of alcohol.
eventually, someone gets people together for a game of spin the bottle. you're all sitting in a big circle in a room away from the rest of the party, chattering excitedly with the buzz of liquors, an empty soju bottle laying in the middle of you all.
"okay party people! game time!" the original host of the party, jackson wang, saunters in with a charming grin, plopping himself down between mark and jeongyeon. "so i'm gonna assume we all know how spin the bottle works. and if you don't... well you'll find out! who wants to go first!"
everyone looks around at everyone, antsy, unwilling to go first. jackson rolls his eyes, "alright losers. guess it's me." he bends forward and spins the bottle. everyone watches with anticipation, breaths held.
it lands on one of the younger trainees, ryujin. she makes a face of disgust, cringing, but jackson ignores it, quickly swooping in and kissing her.
when they break away, ryujin quickly downs her cup of whatever concoction of alcohol she has, wiping at her lips and pushing him off of her playfully. jackson laughs, backing away and returning to his seat. ryujin goes forward, places her fingers on the bottle, then spins it.
again, you all wait in anticipation, eyes locked on the dizzying movement, until it slowly lands on bambam.
ryujin groans again, bambam looks like he just won the lottery. "nope! i'm not kissing one of you gross guys again, jackson tasted like he doesn't know what a toothbrush is. gimme a dare."
there are shouts of disapproval, but ryujin ignores them all, sitting on her haunches, unmoving.
"okay just because you made that totally untrue comment about my breath, i'll give you one worse than kissing bam." jackson looks around the room, thinking to himself, mark whispers something in his ear and they both snicker, "alright. suck someone's toes for 10 seconds."
"pfft is that meant to be a dare?" ryujin easily leans forward, pulling yeji's sock off and immediately wrapping her lips around her toe. yeji squeals, trying to pull her foot away but ryujin is persistent amongst everyone's hollering and cheering, counting down the seconds.
she finally breaks away with a laugh, making a show of licking her lips while yeji blushes, yelling at her and slapping her arm, shoving her drink into her hand and making her rinse out her mouth.
bambam shyly goes forward next, he spins the bottle, and it lands on nayeon. his eyebrows almost get lost in his hairline with how far up they go, his head shooting up and looking at nayeon who was leaning on jihyo heavily, still laughing at the whole ryujin-yeji situation.
his boys clap him on the back with a cheer, pushing him forward towards the older girl. nayeon blinks, turning her attention to him, realising he had spun her.
her eyes meet yours for a second, and then they flit around the room, landing on sana and momo respectively, it's so quick you wouldn't have noticed if you weren't already locked on her gaze.
bambam moves forward shyly, kneeling in front of her, unsure of what to do. she leans back a little as he comes closer, putting on an encouraging smile, looking up at him.
he takes a breath, then dives down, you can hear their teeth clacking as he accidentally goes in too aggressively, nayeon cringes, but tries to make up for it by tilting her head, pressing her lips against his, trying to urge him to slow down, but bambam moves almost too eagerly, like he's eating her up. in the end, nayeon has to gently push him off of her to get him to stop, he looks dazed as he collapses back in his spot, bright blush on his face all the way down to his neck. nayeon tries to look polite and laughs it off, moving forward and quickly spinning the bottle to move everyone along.
only for it land on momo.
"oh hell no." they both say simultaneously, blushing furiously and gaping at each other from across the circle. you catch sana's eye, supressing a laugh as you look between the two of them.
"dare! i pick dare!"
sana perks up, taking the opportunity immediately, "okay i dare you to kiss momo!"
the boys around the circle all laugh, agreeing with her energetically, starting up a chant. momo sends a death glare towards sana, who just sticks out her tongue at her, making an exaggerated kissy face mimicking momo and nayeon kissing.
with no choice, nayeon shuffles forward, crouching down in front of momo who can't look her in the eye.
"don't fall in love with me or anything hirai."
that gets momo to snort, meeting nayeon's equally nervous gaze, "as if i'll be able to think about anything other than getting rid of the taste of you-" she's cut off, nayeon leaning down to plant her lips on her in haste.
momo blinks at first in confusion, then she's closing her eyes and circling a hand around nayeon's neck, pulling her in just a little closer and returning the kiss. they ignore the roar of the crowd, nayeon thinks to herself how much better momo's lips felt against her own than bambam's teeth did.
that thought quickly rips her away though, scrambling backwards and wiping at her lips in mock disgust, laughing breathily with a pretty blush adorning her face.
momo looks on after her, her expression unreadable. after things settle down again, momo leans forward, spinning the bottle.
sana doesn't even give anyone the chance to think, sliding forward and into momo's lap, cupping her cheek and bringing their lips together. momo reacts automatically, hands circling sana's hips and slotting them together, like they've done this countless times in the past.
watching nayeon and momo kiss was silly, fun, but this, this was something different. you glance at nayeon, who has a hand at her lips, staring at sana and momo make out in front of everyone, eyebrows furrowed slightly. you look back, swearing you can see the hint of a pink tongue poke out from sana, momo's hands tightening around the other girl's hips in reaction, before sana finally breaks away. she stands up, sauntering back to her spot with a proud grin, people are cheering, throwing confetti, bowing down to her as if she just brought rain down in a drought. she thrives in the attention. momo on the other hand is breathing heavily, expression shielded behind her hair, biting her lip and clenching her thighs together.
sana does a round around the inside of the circle, giggling and skipping along in her little pink slip. she finally arrives back to her original spot, bending down and spinning the bottle.
it lands on one of the younger trainees, dahyun. sana smiles sweetly, crawling forward. she whispers a few words to dahyun, who nods shyly, breath picking up, then sana leans in, just pecking her before pulling away again. nothing like the kiss she shared with momo.
you decide you need a drink.
at this point in the night, the kitchen is thankfully much less chaotic. most people are playing the game, on the dance floor, or passed out around the house.
you spoon a ladle of the jungle juice that probably has ludicrous amounts of liquor in it into your cup, gulping it down thirstily. you don't know why you suddenly felt so stifled in that room, feeling hot even in the little cropped top and skirt you're wearing.
"y/n?"
you turn, of course it's your three roommates, all looking very concerned for you.
"hey. you okay?" sana comes up to you first, cupping your cheeks, placing the back of her hand on the front of your forehead.
you wave her off with a chuckle, "yeah i'm fine guys. why did you leave the game?"
"because you left." momo says simply, taking the cup you're still holding in your hand away from you, sniffing the contents.
"you didn't have to do that. i was just taking a water break."
"riiiight. water." momo raises an eyebrow unimpressively, pouring the rest of your drink down the sink nearby.
"i'm fine though seriously! you guys should get back to the game."
"you're not coming?" sana pouts.
"not really feeling it anymore."
"do you wanna go home?" nayeon speaks up then, coming forward to lean on sana's back, her face resting on sana's shoulder, looking up at you with wide eyes.
"what? no! you guys have fun. seriously, stop worrying about me i'm fine!"
"we can't have fun without you."
"i'm sure you can."
"no. we're not the four of us without you. we're just... the three of us." sana tilts her head like a confused puppy, her proximity to you making you dizzy, you're not sure if it's the alcohol, or the fact that she was so close, but you can only focus on her lips, which then remind you of the way her lips had been on momo's lips, that had been on nayeon's lips. yeah you were definitely a little more than dizzy.
"wooahh- too much to drink i think." momo sidles up next to you, catching your waist, and holding you up against her. she jokes, "didn't think you'd be the same kinda drunk as nayeon y/n. i don't know if we have enough personnel to take care of the both of you."
you groan, pushing yourself back onto your own two feet, leaning back against the kitchen bench, "don't compare me to that trainwreck."
"hey!"
you all laugh, sana's hands coming down to squeeze nayeon's that are around her waist, turning to peck her cheek.
"i'm getting tired anyway. let's go home."
"what? guys no- you don't have to do this for me- you can stay-"
"we're not doing this for you idiot. i wanna sleep too. i'm gonna be grumpy tomorrow morning if we don't get enough sleep and i have dance practice with jyp."
"you're always grumpy in the mornings momoring."
"no i'm not!"
"yes you are." nayeon quips.
"shut up or i'll kiss you again im."
that makes everyone pause, processing the words in their head. momo doesn't even seem to realise what she's said, staring fiercely back at nayeon, only focused on winning their little bouts of banter.
you all stand in the kitchen in awkward silence, looking nervously at each other, unsure of what to say.
eventually sana speaks up, laughing edgily. "are y/n and i interrupting something orr...?"
"what?! no?!" they both speak up, protesting loudly.
you laugh, trying to ease the tension that seems to have come out of nowhere. "i could've said that about you and momo sana. that was some kiss." that was probably not the right thing to say to ease the tension.
"that's nothing. sana and i kiss all the time." momo brushes you off, shrugging, but sana looks hurt at the her words.
"nothing?"
"wait what do you mean all the time?"
momo blushes, looking between sana and nayeon. but sana's easily emotional feelings, amplified by her intoxication, have her eyes watering, sending momo straight into panic mode. "wait no- that's not what i meant satang-"
"then what did you mean?" sana frowns, you weren't sure if she was genuinely angry now or still playing around.
"i don't- satang i'm stupid we know this i just say stupid shit- things just come out of my mouth i didn't mean it like that-"
"then in what way did you mean it momoring?" her tone is clipped, throat scratchy.
"satang this isn't fair-"
"what isn't?"
"c'mon- satang please-"
all of a sudden, sana lurches forward, pressing her lips against momo's, trapping her against the kitchen counter. nayeon falls onto you without sana holding her up, you quickly grab her waist, supporting her, but both your eyes move back to sana and momo quickly.
they're kissing for real this time, not like when they were putting on a show for everyone else during the game. and you're both close enough you can hear the wet smacks of lips against lips, the little gasps and whimpers, every breath they take in between each kiss. momo's hands have come up to tangle in sana's hair, pulling her closer, their bodies meeting and moving against each other like they were made for each other.
you squirm slightly under nayeon, hands gripping her waist tighter at the sight, the dizzy feeling from earlier returning full force. you try and force yourself to focus on something else, it was probably a bit weird, to be so close, staring as your two closest friends made out, but you couldn't bring yourself to look away, your gaze lidded at the rushed pace, tongues clashing and being sucked into mouths.
you can tell nayeon is feeling very similarly, her hot breath hitting your lips at a faster pace than normal, laboured with excitement.
there's a crashing sound from upstairs where they were playing the game, followed by loud whooping and cheering. it pops the bubble that's formed between the four of you. sana breaks away from momo, panting, hands having come in to hold onto the other girl's hips, pushing her into the bench further having squeezed their bodies together as close as possible.
"w-was that- nothing?" her voice comes out hoarse and in a whisper, still catching her breath.
momo can't speak, her eyes still tightly shut, shaking her head in response.
"then what was it?"
momo groans, knocking her forehead against sana's gently, "don't ask me that sana." her voice is also laced with shaky breaths.
"why not?"
"it's confusing. you know i can't handle thinking about that much."
"am i confusing?"
she shakes her head again, but then points to you and nayeon, drawing a circle between the four of you, "this is confusing."
that gives sana pause, thinking over the possible implications of momo's words, taking the chance to catch her breath. then she looks up to the both of you, her eyes dragging up from the way you're still clutching nayeon's waist tightly, before meeting yours. the eye contact sends shivers down your spine, even when her eyes leave yours to stare into nayeon's, you can still feel all your senses on alert, breath held, tensions at an all time high.
sana's head tilts again, considering the both of you. then, she seems to come to a decision, and she's just as quick as she always is.
before you realise it, her lips are on yours, hand cupping your cheek, the other wrapped around nayeon to keep her there.
it's nothing like that first kiss you shared weeks ago. that was a simple peck, there and gone. this time, sana's moving her lips against yours, fingers caressing your cheek, down to your neck, lips soft and wet, panting directly into your mouth.
momo forces her eyes open, staring at you and sana kiss with hooded eyes. hands coming back down to grip the bench behind her, knuckles almost turning white from how hard she was holding onto it.
sana breaks away from you, but without taking a breath, turns her head, and starts kissing nayeon.
nayeon is only slightly surprised, almost all her weight leaning on you, gripping the back of your top tightly, reciprocating sana's kiss with as much vigor as sana gives.
when they finally break apart, you're all still breathing heavily, looking between each other, tension surmounting, thousands of words unsaid.
it's nayeon that speaks up first this time. she whistles lowly, letting out a small chuckle, "so... that wasn't... nothing."
"no." momo agrees. their eyes meet.
sana rolls her eyes, getting impatient, "so do you two wanna fuck or do you wanna fight?"
neither of them protest this time, they don't even laugh it off, you can all feel the very real pressure in the air.
"dunno. i think i need a..." momo licks her lips, "another taste to know." then she leans forward, capturing nayeon's lips with her own, straight up moaning at the contact. your thighs clench together at the sound. all of this was getting too much for your dumb little drunk brain. you had been spectating more than you had been involved, and it'd be a lie if you said you weren't turned on by it all.
nayeon and momo's kiss is different from sana's kisses. they're both aggressive, fighting for dominance, their natural banter translated onto their lips, grunts and gasps, trying to one-up each other.
eventually, they break away, but momo transitions straight over to you.
"need to compare." she mumbles lowly before attaching her lips to yours. she's much more gentle with you, teasing your mouth open before dipping her tongue inside, you whine against her, hips moving of their own accord when they grind up into nayeon who's still leaning on you for support.
you hear nayeon swear under her breath, regaining some of her drunk-addled consciousness to grip your hips roughly to stop you from doing that again. but that's the end of her control, she leans in, close enough so momo and you can both hear her, just inches away from your mouths moving against each other.
"my turn."
momo obliges, breaking away from you, only for nayeon to latch on. you can still hear momo's rough breathing next to your ear while your lips start moving against nayeon's, once again, with a completely different kissing style to momo and sana. she's slow and languid, pressed against your lips until you're just about to be out of breath, before breaking away and coming back in. she finishes with a little kitten lick on your upper lip, you whine, pushing your hips against her hands as she growls, pushing you back into the counter.
sana's spent the entire time watching all of you, having enough time to even pour herself another much needed drink. she swirls around the contents of her cup, downing it and speaking up again. "home?"
"home." you all unanimously agree.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
you wake up hazily with a pounding headache, vision blurred, mouth dry.
you squeeze your eyes shut again, the dim brightness of the room too much for you. you reach blindly for your glasses that should be next to your pillow on the top bunk of the bunk bed you share with sana. instead, your palm comes colliding with something that most definitely was not your glasses.
your eyes shoot open, squinting and trying to focus, as the person you've hit groans.
"10 more minutes."
"...momo?"
momo groans again, burying her face into the pillow you're sharing, hair messily coming to cover her eyes and furrowed eyebrows.
suddenly, memories of last night come flying back to you. you look down alarmingly, lifting the blanket slightly to find yourself very naked, with an equally naked momo curled around you, arm thrown lazily over your side, legs intertwined.
you also realise that this was not your bed. you were on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed opposite the one you shared with sana, this was nayeon's bed. now even more confused, you slowly turn your body, trying your best to not disturb momo who mumbles something while you shuffle around the bed, before pulling you closer into her.
the sudden feeling of her chest now pressed against your bare back surprises you, even though you knew you were both naked. you try your best to not think about it, squinting to look around the room for where nayeon could be if you were in her bed.
you didn't have to look far though, cuddled up on sana's bed right opposite you, is sana and nayeon. and you'd bet they were in the same state of undress you and momo were.
your heart rate picks up as you recall the events of last night. you hadn't exactly done a lot of talking. as soon as you got home, you were all over each other, somehow, you had made the limited space, and the fact that not all four of you could fit on one little bunk bed work for all of you. your thighs tingle with the memory, a blush adorning your face.
eventually, it's sana that wakes up first, turning in her bed and blinking at you slowly.
you let her come to her senses, your eyes drifting down to where the blanket has fallen in her movement, breath catching at the sight of her pretty naked chest moving up and down slowly with each breath.
sana doesn't mind the attention, she never has, she yawns, stretching unabashedly, revealing more of herself, sitting up and letting the blanket fall to her waist. "morning." she grumbles out, her voice scratchy and deep with fatigue.
you gulp, unable to tear your eyes away from her, "morning."
nayeon whines as sana moves, slowly waking up as well, her arm curled around sana's thighs, trying to keep her still.
sana reaches around and pulls an oversized shirt on, patting her hair down. you're not sure if you're thankful or mournful she's covered up.
"what time is it?" nayeon's voice speaks up, laced with the same hoarse tiredness you're sure you all have right now.
sana picks up her phone on the bedside table next to her bed, you're not sure where yours is. "6."
"too early. come back to bed."
sana giggles then, putting her phone back down and running a hand through nayeon's hair. "don't you have a schedule to get to later?"
"yeah later."
"... we should talk anyway." she's strangely serious, normally the most energetic of you all, even in the mornings. it gets nayeon to look up, hair messy, squinting, placing her chin on sana's thigh.
sana smiles at the sight, you find nayeon's glasses next to her bed, reaching to hand it over.
sana murmurs her thanks, stretching out to grab it from you and gently placing it over the eldest's eyes. she looks adorable.
"how long have you been awake?" nayeon directs the question to you, finally able to see you were awake and looking at the two of them.
you smile, "not that long."
"is momo...?"
"still asleep."
"should we wake her?"
"she's not gonna like that."
"she needs to get up in a bit anyway. she has practice with jyp later remember?"
in agreement, you turn in your spot again, smiling at the sight of momo, mouth hanging open slightly, black hair framing her face. hesitantly, you nudge her shoulder. there's no response, so you nudge her again, a little harder. she groans, grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers, "10 more minutes."
you giggle, "you said that 10 minutes ago."
she mumbles incoherently, drifting back into sleep.
you roll your eyes, nudging her again, except she doesn't respond. so you resort to different measures, your other hand that isn't being held captive by her, sneaks down between the two of you, and you start tickling her sides.
she squirms, blinking, waking up, whiny and giggly.
"s-stop- stop y/n- stop- i'm up i'm up!"
there's laughter from behind you as well, and momo sits up, pushing your hands away to stop you from your attack. not that she needed to, your eyes focused on something else as soon as the covers left her body. but of course, she bumps her head on the bunk, yelping, and cradling the top of her head, her hangover only worsening.
"okay okay guys- before we talk- i'm gonna need all of you to put on some clothes." you speak up, eyes still staring at momo's chest, almost drooling over her.
momo raises an eyebrow, before she shoves her chest into your face, rolling on top of you and squishing you.
"wha- momo- hey! no- mmf-"
you can hear everyone laughing as momo gets her revenge, pulling on the back of your neck while pushing out her chest, squeezing your face in between her breasts.
she finally breaks away once she's had enough, grinning and plucking a shirt down from her bunk on the top bed, pulling it loosely over her body.
"there. better?" she's kneeling on top of you, legs on both sides of your torso, shirt just long enough to reach past her top thighs. you gulp, eyes trained on the skin of her legs. momo rolls her eyes, pulling her shirt down a little more, coughing to get your attention.
your eyes snap back up to her with a blush.
she grins, leaning down easily and pecking you, rolling off of you again with one leg still thrown over your legs and cuddling into your side.
"morning losers."
"you're inconceivable momo."
"where'd you learn that word from? my ass?"
nayeon blushes, digging into sana's thighs. "throw me a shirt you little gremlin."
"get it yourself."
"you're on my bed!"
momo blinks, looking down at herself, finally coming to realise her surroundings. "oh."
sana laughs, pulls a shirt from under her bed and hands it to nayeon, "just borrow one of mine for now."
"sana i just got one for her!"
"give it to y/n."
"you just wanted to see her in your clothes."
"so?"
momo grumbles, handing the shirt she had grabbed for nayeon to you, helping you pull it on, hand skimming over the skin of your side and stomach.
“so…” you cough awkwardly, squirming under momo’s fingers that have stayed beneath your shirt, drawing random shapes into your skin.
“wait why do we need to talk?” she speaks up, leaning on her elbow, face on her palm looking across the room.
sana laughs, “is it simple for you now momoring?”
“is what simple?”
“i love your brain you idiot.”
“huh?” momo looks as confused as ever, too early to be thinking about anything.
sana takes a breath, gripping nayeon’s hand, “i like you. all of you.”
momo blinks, “we like you too.”
“i don’t want to kiss mina the way i kiss you momoring.”
“oh.” momo looks at sana, thinking, “but don’t you kiss everyone?”
sana laughs again, “is that what you think of me?”
she shrugs, “we kiss all the time.” she quickly corrects herself, not wanting to make the same mistake as last night, “and it doesn’t mean nothing. i’m sorry for saying that last night.”
the younger smiles, appreciates the effort, “you’re right. i kiss you all the time. no one else. i think you just get too dazed to notice anything else after we kiss.”
nayeon snorts, laughing loudly.
“what about dahyun last night?” you speak up, recalling the whispered words sana said to the younger trainee.
“we were playing spin the bottle. nayeonnie doesn’t like bambam even though she kissed him right?”
nayeon’s laughs turn into coughs very quickly, “absolutely the fuck not.”
“i was just making sure dahyunnie was okay with me kissing her, i told her it’d be really quick and i wouldn’t kiss her like i did momo. you don’t have to be jealous y/n.” she teases.
you whine, “i wasn’t!! i was just curious…”
“wait… is that why you left the game early last night?”
you feel your cheeks heat up, refusing to acknowledge the question.
“y/n!”
“what!”
“you should’ve told us! or me.”
“no way. i didn't even know what i was feeling. i just needed to get some air."
"will you tell us next time?"
"next time what?"
"next time you feel anything. even if you don't know what the feeling is."
you smile, pulling momo's hand that was creeping dangerously higher out from under your shirt, and interlocking your fingers, "yes. i will. i like you all too."
"blegh."
you and sana both look at nayeon with a frown.
"what?" she asks simply, crunching her nose up.
"nerd." sana pushes nayeon off her thigh, rolling her eyes.
"i'm not good with feelings!"
"get better with them then because i'm not dating an emotionless narcissist."
nayeon perks up, ignoring the insult, "we're dating?"
sana blushes, "i don't know. do you guys want to?"
"i do." you offer sana a reassuring smile, she's been leading the conversation this whole time and it took a lot of courage to do that. "momo, nayeon?"
"i don't think anything changes between us. except we all get to kiss and have sex whenever we want right?"
"momo!" you slap her hand lightly, she snickers.
"yeah. i'm pretty happy with that."
you all turn your gazes to nayeon.
she rolls her eyes, "as long as i get to top momo."
"just try it!"
"i will!"
you spend the rest of the morning, laughing, cuddling, doing things you'd always do together, but now with more freedom and less confusion.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
sometimes, you wish you had a different dream. a lot of the time really.
it hasn't been a good week. monthly trainee evaluations were coming up, and everyone could feel the pressure. there were rumours running around that jyp was preparing a survival show to debut the next girl group, and he was in the midst of picking trainees to participate, so everyone was on edge more than ever.
the one who had it the worst was momo.
you wince, curling in on yourself, knees to your chest, head resting on your knees, while you listen to your girlfriend dry heave in the bathroom.
nayeon's pacing around the room, obviously agitated, wishing she could do something to help. sana was in practice, you knew how hard she was working recently, she didn't need to worry about anything more right now.
"-stupid fucking trainers. they're all fucking blind she doesn't need to lose weight. they're gonna fucking kill her fuck-"
the bathroom door creaks open. both you and nayeon's heads snap towards it immediately.
nayeon rushes forward, holding momo up, caressing her cheek, brushing hair out of her face.
momo looks pale as a ghost. she's trembling, exhausted, you can barely stand to look at her without breaking down in tears. she knows. she knows how you all felt about her. so even when she's suffering the most, she still manages to crack a joke, "you care about me now im?"
"shut up momo. this isn't the time for that. you should lie down."
momo groans weakly, "can't. need to go to the gym."
nayeon explodes then, "what?! you are not going to the fucking gym right now momo. look at yourself! you're dying!"
"you still think i'm hot though right?" she grins. it has none of her usual sparkle, no mischief, just white teeth and lips.
"shut up or i'll kill you before you kill yourself."
the younger girl shrugs, you can see her bones with the movement.
"don't go to the gym. you already haven't eaten anything for the last five days. you haven't even drunk water for the last five days."
"yeah and i've still got 2 and a half kilos to lose."
"you don't- you shouldn't have to do that! you're skinny enough! you're going to die before you lose that weight!"
momo takes a shaky breath, you're surprised when a tear escapes her eye. even the fact that her body still has enough water to cry, and her not being the type of person to cry much in the first place, especially in front of other people, is shocking enough. she can't hold herself up any longer, collapsing onto the bed next to you. you open your arms immediately, lowering your legs, adjusting so she can lean all her weight on you. the feeling of her body against yours is terrifying. she's all bones. you can feel each rib, every pointy bone in her joints.
"i know. i'm so scared of dying." she whispers out eventually, still crying silently.
nayeon squeezes in as well, holding one of momo's hands, bringing it up to her lips to kiss it softly.
"i don't want to sleep. i'm terrified i won't wake up again. that i won't be able to see you guys again."
there are tears streaming down yours and nayeon's faces as well now.
"then eat. please darling. you need to eat." nayeon begs, wiping at her eyes furiously.
momo looks up at her weakly, smiling even now, "you know i can't. you'd both be doing the same thing if you were in my position right now."
you hold back choked sobs, burying your face into her neck. she can feel the tears staining it.
"it's okay. i'm gonna be okay. we're all going to be okay." her hand finds yours, squeezes both your hand and nayeon's.
"it's not fair. you're pretty much the same weight as me. why are they making you do this?"
she shrugs again, her sharp shoulders dig into your chest, "maybe they're testing me."
"for what?" nayeon says incredulously.
"dunno. if i have the willpower. if i'm ready to die for my dream. who knows."
"it's not willpower. it's fucking starvation. you're not even- you're all muscle. there's nothing to lose. the number on that scale is only higher because muscle is heavier than fat. and you wouldn't have all that muscle if you weren't the best dancer in this fucking company."
"you think i'm the best dancer?"
nayeon sighs frustratedly, "i know you are. darling... please. please just- some water- anything-"
"i can't. i'm sorry."
you've been talking in circles for days. the same thing, over and over again, begging her to eat, drink some water, rest. she's persistent though, hasn't broken once. when she first told you all the news, you were aghast, angry, but not surprised. you all thought you knew what it meant to lose 7 kilograms in a week, it was terrible, but it wouldn't be impossible. they wouldn't set you an impossible task. there has always been importance placed on your weight in this industry. they weighed you every morning before classes, tracked your progress, what you ate, how often you worked out, made sure you were kept consistently underweight, just how the public liked you. if they said momo needed to lose 7 kilograms to be attractive, to get a chance to debut, then she needed to lose 7 kilograms.
it wasn't until around the third day that you realised just what that meant though.
she collapsed in dance class. it wasn't an out of the ordinary experience, they put all of you on the edge of malnutrition, so there were always girls fainting left and right. but it was the first time for momo. and unlike the other girls who were instructed to eat better, momo was encouraged to keep doing what she was doing. because it was working, she was losing a kilogram everyday, more than that at the time because all her water weight was gone first.
so she came home that night proud that she had collapsed. they'd brainwashed her.
and so she kept on going. when all the trainees were off enjoying lunch, she had two fingers down her throat in the company bathrooms. when everyone retired to go home for the night and rest, she'd be running 10 miles an hour on the treadmill at the gym. naturally, her body started shutting down. she was losing too much weight too quickly, she wasn't getting the nutrients she needed to function as a human being, her body was in a state of panic, it was retaining as much weight as it could, it thought momo was in trouble, that it needed to protect her from all of these sudden changes, so it's natural she stopped losing weight at such a fast rate.
she didn't care if it was natural. all that mattered was that that number on the scale was 7 kilograms less than it was when she was first told to lose the weight.
on the outside, you could see how much it was affecting her, not just physically, but mentally as well. you were so confused what to do, you wanted to support her, and as a trainee who had the same dream as her, you understood why she was doing what she was doing, but you also didn't want her to die. you wanted your momo back, the one that smiled and laughed and played around with sana, secretly loving how affectionate sana was despite her outwardly 'cool girl' persona. you wanted the momo that teased and fought with nayeon, the only one that could bring nayeon back down to earth when she was getting too much in her head. you wanted the momo that kissed and pulled you into her whenever you shared a bed, that clung to you in the morning when you had to get up, whiny and pouty and sleepy. she was a shell of herself now. they had ripped the life out of one of your favourite people on the planet.
the door to your dorm clicks open softly.
you're all still cuddled up on the bed, squeezed against one another.
sana walks in, a tired smile on her face. it immediately disappears once she sees the tear streaks on all of your faces.
she rushes forward, cupping momo's cheeks, checking her pulse.
"i'm alive satang don't worry."
"did you eat?"
"you know i haven't."
sana's the most emotional of you all. just seeing her favourite people crying has her own tears welling up.
"oh satang not you too-"
"i can't help it. look at you momoring. why didn't you guys tell me?" she directs that to you and nayeon, frowning.
"you were at practice. we didn't want you to worry."
"momo is more important than practice."
"no satang. monthly evaluations are in two days. you're gonna make that lineup."
"i don't care if i make it if you die momo!"
"stop it. all this talk about- i'm not going to die guys. i'm fine, don't give up on me yet. i'm still here. if you all think i'm not going to make it then how am i supposed to think i'm going to make it?"
"that's not fair momo." you speak up, still cuddled into her neck. "this isn't- this isn't a daily worry. we live in the fucking twenty first century it's not normal to worry about whether or not you're going to live to see tomorrow."
"please momoring. here-" sana starts scrambling around in her bag, pulling out a thermos. "just one please-" she shakes out an ice cube, holds it out to momo in her palm.
momo stares at it, watches it melt, her mouth open, lips dry.
"please it's just one-"
"i-i... i can't-"
sana sobs, head falling into her elbow, crouched on the floor.
nayeon gently takes the ice cube from her, holds it in her palm, watching momo's gaze follow it.
"momo..."
"don't make me nayeon. please. i can't."
"i'm not. i won't." nayeon makes sure momo is still watching her, then she slowly takes the ice cube into her own mouth. she sucks on it, her cheeks hollowing out, melts it in her mouth slowly. when she's done, she opens her mouth, showing she's swallowed it all, then she asks, "do i look different?"
momo looks at her confused, "no?"
"if i went on that scale, how much do you think my weight will change?"
momo gets it, her face darkening again, "don't do this nayeon."
"just answer the question."
"...it probably wouldn't."
"right. look, here, y/n, have one." she reaches for sana's thermos, you hold out your hand, accepting the cold cube, then you pop it in your mouth, burying yourself back to your position in her neck, kissing the skin there gently with your cool lips.
she sighs on top of you.
nayeon's shaking another one out, popping it in her mouth, then she's giving one to sana who has her hand out, staring at momo with wide, hopeful eyes.
momo looks between the three of you, you all had so much love for her, you all just wanted the best for her. it was one ice cube. her body was screaming for it.
slowly, she holds her palm out.
you all stare at her with bated breath, almost in disbelief.
she smiles, "i've probably cried out enough for an ice cube right?"
sana lets out a broken laugh, nayeon's quick to shake out an ice cube into momo's palm.
momo stares down at it, brings it up to her mouth, takes a breath, then encloses her lips around it.
she sighs again, closing her eyes, reveling in the coolness of it, leaning back against you more.
you let her, leaning back fully until you're laid on the bed, spooning her. nayeon comes in behind you, squeezing herself against the wall, an arm coming up to rest on your midriff, her hand able to reach momo's side. sana clambers up as well, kissing momo's forehead and sniffling, looping an arm around her waist and snuggling in. after you had started dating you ended up pushing the two bunk beds in your room together so you could all share the bottom bunk, and so you could use the top bunks for storage space. it was still a little bit of a squeeze but the four of you didn't mind. you liked being as close as you all possibly could.
momo couldn't shake the thought that the ice cube melting down her throat would add on another kilogram or two, but she tried to focus on the feeling of her loved ones curled around her instead, falling into a restless sleep, praying she would be able to wake up and feel like this again.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
you grip your fork tightly, stabbing into your bland salad.
sana sits next to you, just as stiff, staring daggers across the cafeteria.
momo doesn't seem to mind though. she's happily munching away at her leaves. your heart softens a little at the sight, remembering how far she pushed herself last month, at least she was eating better now.
but then nayeon's laugh breaks through again, loud and bright. your jaw tightens at the sound.
"that's it." sana goes to stand but you tug on her hand, pulling her back down.
"don't."
"why not?" she spits, you've never seen her so livid. she was the happy charm of the company, people forget she could feel other emotions too.
"you'll cause a scene."
"good. then maybe he'll get his fucking baby hands off her."
"we can't. everyone will wonder why."
"why what?" she's still seething.
"why you have an issue with them. at worst they’ll think there’s something going on between you and nayeon. at best they’ll think you have a crush on him."
sana blanches, flicking her gaze over to you, “what?!”
“i don’t like it either. but we just have to trust her right?” you offer a smile, it’s a bit wonky and forced and sana sees straight through it, but it does get her to calm down a bit, taking a breath and slumping down in her seat.
“fine.”
“she loves you.”
“whatever.”
you smile genuinely at momo who looks at you in confusion, her mouth still full of lettuce. you shake your head, gesturing for her to keep eating and not to worry.
it’s not until later in the day when you have combined level dance practice that the issue comes up again. normally, he wouldn’t be near your class, sana and momo were naturally gifted dancers, so they were in higher level classes, and nayeon was an all-rounder, she was always in every top class to ensure she was around other people her level.
“they’d be cute wouldn’t they?” jihyo makes light conversation while you’re all stretching.
jeongyeon scoffs, “are you serious? he’s like… a baby.”
“he won’t be for that much longer.”
“gross dude!”
jihyo laughs.
“who are you guys talking about?” momo moves towards your group, mina in tow behind her.
“bambam and nayeon.”
“oh.” she drops down in a stretch, “what about them?”
jeongyeon snickers, teasing momo, “of course you didn’t know you airhead. bambam has a crush on her.”
“really?”
“yeah. did you see him almost wet himself when he got her during spin the bottle at jackson’s party?”
“it was so funny! and then when he went in to kiss her, that was so awkward! poor kid, i almost felt bad for him.”
“i don’t.” sana speaks up then, her teeth gritted, eyebrows furrowed, not even bothering to hide her gaze, staring at bambam and nayeon playing around in the mirror.
jihyo and jeongyeon exchange glances, confused.
“uhh… you okay sana?”
her eyes snap back up to meet jeongyeon’s, “yeah. fine, why?”
“you just seem a little… edgy.”
sana huffs, standing up again, “just tired.” she doesn’t say anything else, turning on her heel and leaving the training room.
momo catches your eye, tilts her head in question.
you shake your head, speaking up, “i’ll check on her.”
you jog outside, finding her near the water fountain.
“hey.”
“if you’re gonna lecture me again i don’t want to hear it.”
“no i wasn’t- i didn’t mean to lecture you at lunch. i just wanted to check on you.”
she sighs, sinking down into the cushion next to the fountain. you carefully sit next to her.
“i’m sorry. i just- i do trust her i just- i don’t trust him.”
“he’s just a kid sweetie.”
she scoffs, “yeah a hormonal pubescent teenage boy. they’re soo innocent, not like they don’t watch porn and jack off to every woman who even breathes near them.”
you’re about to reply when the door to the dance studio opens again, it’s nayeon.
she pokes her head out, looks up and down the hallway, and spots you, grinning. she jogs down to the both of you.
“hey! what are you guys doing here? class is about to start!”
sana doesn’t bother meeting her gaze, “oh so now you care about us?”
nayeon frowns, looks at you in confusion, you feel incredibly awkward, avoiding her eyes as well, “what’s going on?”
“nothing. go back to your boyfriend.”
“what?”
“you heard me.”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about sana. c’mon, let’s go to practice.”
“you don’t? is it that natural for you to drape yourself all over him?”
“what?”
sana finally looks up, eyes red and angry, “bambam. you know he likes you. why do you entertain him?”
“what? sana he’s just a kid-“
sana stands then, throwing her hands up in frustration, you keep your gaze locked on your shoes, “a kid! i’m sick of hearing that! so what if he’s a fucking kid? we’re fucking kids. you all think it’s so impossible that the im nayeon would ever like someone like him so it shouldn’t be anything to worry about right?! you know what sounds more impossible?! that im nayeon is in a polyamorous relationship with three other girls. three other kids!”
“sana! calm down don’t be so loud-“
“no don’t you tell me to fucking calm down. you see? we have to hide this. us. we can’t even talk about us in public. i was okay with that! because i still had you all. you were all worth it! but you could get with bambam right now and people wouldn’t even bat an eye. they’d celebrate it, congratulate him for pulling the girl, all while we can’t even hold hands in public without people looking at us weird!”
“but i- i don’t want to be with him! i want to be with all of you!”
“then don’t fucking laugh at his jokes, touch his biceps, compliment his fucking hair!”
“but- honey that’s all harmless-“
“you still don’t get it! you-"
the door opens once again, and this time it's momo's head that pops out. she frowns when she sees all of you, walking up, tilting her head in question.
sana huffs, "whatever. i'm not feeling like practice today. tell the instructors i'm sick please."
"wait sana-"
she turns on her heel and struts briskly away.
nayeon sighs in frustration, running a hand through her hair, "what is going on with her?" she mutters to herself.
you frown, the events of the day culminating, you wish nayeon could see where you were coming from, "she told you. i think it was pretty obvious." you didn't mean to sound so clipped, your tone just slipped out that way.
nayeon looks down at you, you were never one to talk back, you'd kept more of your emotions to yourself. "are you angry with me too then?"
"that's not it nayeon. look i don't want to fight. let's just go to practice."
you stand up, brushing past her, unable to look her in the eye. you can hear momo questioning nayeon behind you before you open the door to the practice room again, thinking over sana's words that left a heavy feeling in your stomach.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
after practice, you and momo go and grab dinner while nayeon has to go to another vocal lesson.
momo's still blissfully unaware, talking about how the dance practice was and how much fun she had in such a big class with everybody. you listen to her ramble with a smile, not wanting to burst her bubble.
it's unavoidable when you go home later that night and find nayeon alone in your dorm, freshly showered and typing away at her phone.
momo skips in first, kissing nayeon and grabbing some clothes to shower into, heading into the bathroom right after.
nayeon looks at you then, putting her phone down, "hey."
"hi." you shrug off your bag, taking off your shoes.
"where's sana?"
"i thought she'd be home by now."
she frowns, "i haven't seen her since..."
you bite your lip, growing slightly concerned, "should we call her?"
"i don't know if she would pick up for me..."
"right..." you take out your phone, scrolling to sana's contact and pressing dial. it rings for a little, and just before you're about to give up, she picks up, giggly and breathy.
"y/n!! i miss you! what's up!"
you squint, there was a lot of background noise, "sana where are you?"
"out! i'm having fun!"
"where?"
"i don't really know but i'll be home soon! i promise! i love you!" she blows a kiss through the phone and then she hangs up.
you stare down at her contact picture, it was of her and a hamster plushie momo had won for her when you had gone on a date to the carnival. you had all agreed it looked like her and she had hated it because she thought you were saying her chubby cheeks were the resemblance point.
"is she okay?" nayeon speaks up again, barefaced with her thick glasses on.
"i think so. she sounded... she said she'd be home soon."
"oh."
"yeah."
it's oddly quiet, awkward. you start shuffling out of your day clothes, picking out pyjamas for your turn to shower after momo.
"are we okay?" nayeon breaks the silence suddenly, eyes seemingly even bigger behind her glasses. she fiddles with her fingers nervously.
you sigh, moving around the small room to clean up a little, if only to give your hands something to do, so you had an excuse not to look at her. "i don't know. i think sana's less okay than me."
"but you're still... not okay?"
"i feel silly. momo doesn't even feel anything about it. i wish i was the same. i know you'd never cheat on us or whatever, i just- it's still hard y'know? watching you be like that with him. like- you wouldn't want to see me all over another guy right?"
"but he doesn't mean anything to me. he's just- he's like my little brother."
"i know that's why i feel silly. i know realistically you'd never leave us for him. but it still hurts sometimes- like- like you're dangling the fact that you can in front of our faces."
she's quiet for a bit. you risk it to sneak a glance at her. she has her eyebrows furrowed, thinking.
you sigh again, moving forward and standing next to the bed. you place your hand on her head, then start running your fingers through her hair.
"i'm sorry. i don't want to be- i'm not trying to be clingy or jealous or whatever i just can't help it. i- i- i love you."
she looks up at you, surprised. your hands move down to cup her cheeks, smoothing out the skin, there.
you lean down, pressing your forehead against hers, breathing softly, closing your eyes, appreciating her presence. then, you move the extra inch to press your lips together, just slowly, softly, only for a second or two.
when you break away, she doesn't let you go, holding onto your wrist and tugging you down gently, asking you to hug her. and you oblige. kneeling on the bed, letting her wrap her arms around you, and place another kiss on the crown of your head.
"i love you too. i'm sorry i didn't- i wasn't aware of how it looked on the outside. i never- because he doesn't mean anything to me like that, i didn't think anything of it. i didn't realise you guys may have taken it differently. thank you for telling me."
you peck the side of her hand that's right next to your face, holding yours. "it's because you're a T isn't it?" you joke.
she chuckles behind you, "yeah and all my girlfriends are Fs. emotional losers."
"repressed freak."
she rolls her eyes, brings you in closer, "i love you."
"you said that already."
"i wanted you to know again."
"looks like our F is rubbing off on you."
she whines, "are you not going to say it back?"
you smile, "i love you too."
when momo comes out of her shower, she curls into bed immediately with you all, tired from her day and wanting no more than to sleep with her girlfriends. she hopes you've all made up and the fighting can stop tomorrow.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
"did she come home last night?"
"it doesn't look like it."
"fuck she's not picking up her phone either."
"where could she be?"
"what are we going to tell the company?"
"she can't just have gone missing right?"
you're all stressing, nayeon's pacing around the room like she does when she's agitated, momo's trying to call sana's cell, and you're checking her socials and her friends to see if anyone knows where she is.
"what did she say when you called her again yesterday?"
"that she'd come home soon. there was a lot of background noise though, she said she didn't know where she was."
"you don't think she's in trouble right?"
"i don't know..."
"fuck! i never should've fought with her yesterday!"
"don't- no nayeon this isn't your fault at all don't blame yourself. we're going to find her." you step up, halting her pacing, grabbing her hands and squeezing.
she sighs, gritting her teeth, "fine. c'mon. let's go to class, we're late. maybe someone there has seen her.”
before she moves to leave, you cup her cheek, turning her back to you and kiss her in reassurance. she offers a smile when you break away, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
momo keeps trying sana's phone while you walk to the company building. by now, you were all relatively well known in the company, and the tension could be felt by newer trainees, they cleared the way as you walked past, not wanting to get caught up in anything.
you push open the door to the dance studio hurriedly, not in the mood for another scolding from the trainers.
but you freeze, spotting sana on the floor, stretching and getting ready.
"y/n? what's wrong?" momo tries peeking over your shoulder to see why you've stopped, and then she spots her as well.
"satang!"
sana looks up, there are obvious bags under her eyes, she's sluggish in her movements. momo pushes past you, dumping her bag down and rushing over.
"where were you?! we've been calling you all morning!"
sana squints, backing away from momo who was speaking too loud for her, "phone died."
"we were worried satang! why didn't you come home last night?" she says the last part in a whisper, not wanting to get sana in trouble with the watchful trainers.
you and nayeon have both entered now as well, nayeon stands behind you a little awkwardly, unsure of how to approach.
"i was out." sana says simply.
"but where?"
"doesn't matter. i'm here now right?"
"sana we were really worried." you speak up now, crouching down into a stretch.
she looks at you, her eyes are lifeless. "and now there's nothing to be worried about. i'm fine."
"what happened to you last night? you said you'd come home and then you didn't. where did you sleep? did you sleep? you look terrible."
she cringes, "gee thanks."
"you know i didn't mean it like that. what aren't you telling us?"
at that moment, bambam chooses to come over and greet you all.
"morning nayeon!"
nayeon is still focused on sana, frowning, but she greets him offhandedly anyway, "morning bam."
"what? no morning for us bambam?" sana speaks up with a teasing smile, it's anything but harmless.
"o-oh! sorry. good morning sana, momo, y/n." he bows to each of you.
"i get it. it's your crush on nayeonnie isn't it? she's so pretty right? and born to be an idol. i can see why you like her."
bambam sputters, completely unprepared, blushing bright red.
sana's smile is sinister.
"sana stop."
she looks at you innocently, blinking, "stop what? i'm not doing anything."
"sana!" behind you, mark suddenly appears, clapping bambam on the back. "last night was fun. you should invite your roomies next time! i'm sure bam would appreciate that wouldn't he?" mark elbows bambam with a snicker.
"oh i'm sure he would. i don't know though, i kinda liked it when it was just us y'know?" she sports a smirk, the one she uses when she wants sex.
mark blushes, muttering something and then dragging bambam away.
"what the fuck sana?" nayeon finally speaks up, glowering.
"what?" she blinks up.
"you were out with mark last night?"
"so what if i was?"
"we were fucking worried."
"and i told you i'm fine now. there was no reason to worry."
"we thought something bad could've happened."
"yeah well obviously nothing did right!? i don't get why you guys are so pressed. i just had a little fun, i needed it, and it was good for me."
"you mean he was good for you?"
"better for me than you were."
nayeon falters at that, hurt flashing across her face, "i'm sorry."
"what for?"
"i didn't listen to you yesterday."
sana shrugs, "it's fine. i get why you like it. i tried it. it's the attention right? it's nice to know someone else is in love with you."
"that's not- that's not what i was doing sana-"
"then what were you doing? you're with us right? so why are you flirting with other people? worried we won't last? backup options? attention?"
"sana- please- can we talk about this i don't-"
"we are talking about this."
"not here. alone."
"you ashamed of me?"
"no! sana what-"
"mark can hold my hand in public. he can kiss me in public. he can call me his."
nayeon clenches her fist, "does he?"
sana shrugs again, not bothering to answer, moving into another stretch. you can't believe her, what you're hearing, you've never seen her like this. never thought she could be like this. momo looks to be in shock too, sitting on her haunches, staring at sana with hurt written all over her face. sana ignores you all.
class starts.
you keep sana in the corner of your eye. she fools around with mark, teasing him, playfighting with him, and ignores the three of you completely. you try and understand where she's coming from, why she was purposely trying to hurt you. she just told you she loved you last night, this wasn't real. she was just doing this as her own personal form of revenge. she didn't mean any of this.
you had to keep telling yourself that.
as class ends, sana looks like she’s about to go out with mark again, but you quickly run out the door, tugging on her arm, “can we talk?”
her eyes soften when she realises it’s you, but she still looks unsure.
that is, until momo links her arm with yours, pleading with sana as well.
“alright.”
you quickly lead her into one of the empty recording studios, gesturing for nayeon to come follow before sana can change her mind. as soon as you’re all inside, you stand against the door, blocking any routes of escape.
sana scoffs when she sees nayeon enter the room as well, but with you in the way, there’s nowhere to run.
“what did you want to talk about?” her tone is cutting, she rubs in between her eyebrows, pushing out the tension there.
“you.”
“what about me?”
“how could you do that to us satang?”
sana sighs, glancing at momo, “you notice now momoring? how come you didn’t have an issue when it was nayeon?”
“w-what?”
“you knew bambam liked nayeon. why didn’t you have a problem when nayeon was hanging all over him?”
nayeon tries to protest but momo replies quickly, wide-eyed, “what do you mean? nayeon doesn’t like bambam though.”
“and i don’t like mark. so what’s the difference?”
“you went after him.” you interject.
“no i didn’t.”
“then how did you end up hanging out with him last night?”
“he saw me crying outside the company. he offered to listen and then to distract me afterwards. i had fun. he didn’t make me cry.”
“sana…” nayeon’s lower lip is wobbly.
“what?”
“…i’m sorry. for not listening to you. i should’ve given you a chance to explain yourself and understand where you were coming from.”
sana’s quiet for a bit, staring at nayeon, turning the words over in her head slowly. and then her own lip starts wobbling, throat constricting, tears welling up.
nayeon panics, “fuck- no i didn’t want to make you cry i didn’t- i’m sorry i made you cry the first time i didn’t- i’m sorry-“ she desperately wants to comfort her but she’s not sure if she can, still in an awkward sort of limbo.
sana closes it though, almost leaping into nayeon’s arms, burrowing her face into her neck and breathing out shakily, sniffling.
“…i’m sorry too. i knew what i was doing- i was being petty and stupid and jealous and i hurt all of you doing that.” she whispers into nayeon’s neck, but it’s quiet enough in the room that you can all hear her.
you breathe a sigh of relief, internal turmoil calmed for the moment. you walk forwards, wrapping your arms around the both of them, feeling momo do so as well on the other side.
“i don’t like him. i didn’t kiss or hold hands or do whatever else i said in there. i just- it really didn’t bother me before. that we had to keep this to ourselves. but then seeing nayeonnie with bambam acting so carefree and- and- everything, i just wished i could grab her and kiss her in front of him, so that everyone knew you were all mine, and that i’m all yours.”
“one day we’ll be able to sana. i promise. and i won’t- i’m not going to act like i’m not already spoken for anymore. i am all yours and i always will be.”
sana sniffles again, you’re close enough you can lean over nayeon’s shoulder and kiss her forehead.
“and i’m sorry for making you guys worry. my phone really did die though if that’s any solace.” she chuckles wetly.
“i have a portable!” momo quickly breaks away, running to her bag and pulling it out, handing it to sana with a proud smile.
sana returns it, thanking her and kissing her cheek, plugging in her phone.
“you were wrong about one thing you know.” nayeon speaks up again, the hint of a smile on her face.
sana stiffens, ready to argue again but not wanting to.
“korea is so homophobic that we can actually hold hands in public without people thinking we’re anything. we could probably get away with kissing on a few rare occasions too and people would still think we’re just really good friends. especially if we’re all kissing each other, they’ll just think we’re… all very friendly with each other and kiss as a sign of affection or something.”
sana laughs out loud, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, “you’re right. i don’t necessarily have to hide how affectionate i am with you all.”
“and you’re very affectionate satang.”
sana rolls her eyes, hitting momo lightly. but then, her phone lights up, and she seems to read over something. she takes a few seconds, and then she’s blinking up, fresh tears in her eyes, launching forward into nayeon’s arms again.
nayeon grunts, catching her and squeezing back, “i take it you saw my message.”
���mmsorry- i lov- too.” her voice is muffled, but it’s obvious what she’s saying.
you don’t know what nayeon’s text said, and sana refuses to share with you afterwards, saying “nayeonnie’s words are for me only, tell her to do it again for you.” knowing nayeon hates expressing too much, which makes it all the more special to sana, but you’re just happy everything is okay between the four of you again.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
there was something going on and everyone knew it. the rumoured survival show for a new debut group was apparently set to start filming soon. select trainees were being pulled out of practice and given the news, although they were instructed not to say anything about it in order to not cause discouragement amongst other trainees and to minimise media leakage.
your girlfriends had all been called up and informed that they would be participating. now you were all waiting in anticipation for your own name to be called out.
after the monthly trainee showcase, JYP himself comes to make the announcement.
"i'm sure you've all heard the rumours going around about the new group we're planning to debut. it's going to be televised nationally in a reality-type fashion, so even if you don't make it to the final lineup, making it onto the show itself will be a big deal already, getting your name out there for potential future plans. the name of this show will be..." he pauses for effect, "sixteen!"
there's thundering applause, but you can barely hear it, anticipating, praying he would be announcing the lineup and that your name would be there.
"it's sixteen for the chosen sixteen exemplary trainees that the staff have recognised and recommended. they will be competing for seven spots in this new group. all sixteen trainees have now been notified of their involvement, but if you haven't received any news, don't worry! i always have all of you in my mind, like god, your time will come! so please cheer on and support your fellow trainees in their journeys!"
did you hear that right? everyone chosen had been notified already? so you weren't chosen? you weren't good enough? all that training... all those hours slaving away... all those tears, doubts, connections you've lost, all for what?
you look around, other people are cheering, some are crying, some are in disbelief like you.
your feet move before you can think, pushing to the front of the crowd, grabbing JYP.
"sir- why- why didn't i make it?" you're desperate, huffing, on the verge of breakdown.
he looks you up and down, a frown appearing on his usually smiley face, "what was your name again?"
your heart sinks. he didn't even know your name.
and then a look of realisation comes across him, "oh! you're that girl that's always with nayeon, momo, and sana! you should be happy for them! they're all fantastic trainees, they'll make wonderful idols."
you blink, dumbfounded, mouth agape.
"b-but- i- what was it? was i not a good enough singer? dancer? am i not pretty enough?" you're grasping for straws, anything to help you cling on to the possibility of your dream.
he tilts his head, crossing his arms, "ah- you... perhaps it's because you're always with those three. you just don't... stand out. nayeon has natural star power, her voice is one of the strongest in the company. momo is the best dancer we have, probably one of the best dancers in your generation. and sana has a personality people gravitate towards, she can keep group morale up and maintain public image. let me ask you.. what do you have? because aside from being friends with genuinely talented people, you just seem... average."
your hand falls, head drooping, the words hitting you hard.
"don't take this too personal though! perhaps with them out of the way, you can really find your own light to shine now! i believe in you!" he smiles again, then he's off with a flourish, being guided away by busy assistants.
you stare after him in shock, a flashback of sorts playing through your head, of the hardships you've been through to get to this point, of the tears and sweat you've dripped, it was too much. you needed out.
again, your feet move before you have control over them. mind moving at miles a minute, body on autopilot.
you're back in you're dorm room before you know it, and then your suitcase is being pulled off the top bunk, laid on the floor, and you're stumbling around throwing things in haphazardly. you don't even register when the door opens and three sets of footsteps tread in, too focused on thinking about how to get out, whether you could get to the airport in time, what you would say to your parents, your family, the people standing at the door in surprise, watching you clumsily shove things into your suitcase.
"...y/n? what are you doing?"
you barely look at them to reply, voice light and distracted, "packing."
"where are you going?"
"home."
"what?"
you head into the bathroom, starting to pick off the things you needed, you could leave some things, not everything was going to fit anyway and some things you could throw away.
"y/n wait- stop- just wait-"
you ignore them, clattering makeup items falling out of order into toiletry bags.
"y/n!" it's nayeon, her hands gripping your wrists firmly, not too firm to hurt, but enough to get you to stop. you finally look up at them, the break allows you to really feel your emotions, tears welling up immediately.
"oh sweetheart." nayeon tugs you into a hug, running a hand through your hair comfortingly. you feel sana and momo surround you, placing their arms around you as well. the dams break open then, and you're sobbing into their arms, all of your emotions finally catching up.
you stay there for a few minutes, just crying it out, the girls hushing and soothing you, letting you babble nonsense and cry into their shoulders.
when you finally calm down, you're exhausted, slumping down into nayeon. she supports you immediately, and tries to peek at you from your position in her neck, but you refuse to look at her, your eyes puffy and nose red.
"do you want to talk about it?"
you shake your head.
"do you... still want to leave?"
you take a breath, unsure. "i don't know." you whisper honestly, "what do i have to do here if i stay?"
"you have us." sana says quietly.
you chuckle wetly, "you don't get it. you guys all made it. i'm never going to. i don't- i'm happy for you all i am but- my dream-"
"shhh- it's okay. we... we do get it my love. we were all on this journey together weren't we? we've all had thoughts we wouldn't make it. even nayeon." momo tries to lighten the mood a little.
"but- you've all made it now. i don't even- why would you still want to be with me? i'm not good enough. you all got through. i'm the only one who didn't. doesn't that- don't you think i'm just pathetic? how could you still like me?"
"what?! what are you talking about y/n?! we don't like you for your talent we're not some talent recruiters. we like you because you're you, you're sweet and funny and caring. i know it's hard because we're in this industry so it feels like we're all competing, but you can't- it's not like that for us. don't ever doubt our love for you again."
you sob quietly, emotions still a wreck.
"please don't leave. this doesn't mean anything. there will be other opportunities. your dream is still possible. we might not be able to debut all together like we always wanted to but- but you still have a chance y/n. don't give up on it."
you sigh, too tired to argue, letting them bring you to bed, giving you one of the coveted middle spoon spots and cuddling into you until you fell into a restless sleep.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐
the next few weeks are absolutely hectic. for your girlfriends. you spent most of your time moping around, giving only about 50% in all your classes, motivation completely shot. it didn't help that the three of them started spending a lot more time together, as is expected when they have to prepare filming for the same thing. often you'd find yourself coming home after a long day of practice, and find them giggling and laughing about things you have no idea about, sharing inside jokes and talking about things that happened during their day that you'd be too tired or jealous to ask about.
they tried to include you of course, but you couldn't bring yourself to join in.
internally, you felt terrible. you knew you should be proud, happy, enthusiastic that all three of them were in the process of having their dreams come true. they had worked harder than all of you, they certainly deserved this opportunity, and they deserved you to be in their corner, supporting them and loving them like any other partner would do in this situation.
but you couldn't do it. jyp's words continue to ping around your head like an endless pinball machine. how you had always been in their shadow, how he never saw your worth because of them. a small, petty part of you blamed them. you hated that part of yourself, tried to squash it down as much as you could. but sometimes when you're laid in between them at night, their light breaths deep in sleep, those thoughts come back, and you can't help but be envious of their position, wondering why them and not you.
naturally, you started drifting from them, especially when filming actually started.
they were moved out to different dorms during the filming, split into major and minor dorms so that the film crew could get some reality content. they still texted you often though, asking how your day was every night, they still made every effort to make it work. it was you who really started moving away when they were no longer physically there to remind you they loved you.
you'd cry most nights. cuddling into sheets that smelled like them, watching episodes of sixteen, wishing you were there with them. you missed them.
and then momo gets eliminated.
it's brutal. you're confused when she shuffles into your dorm room, hood over her head, dark circles under her eyes, still red from crying.
you had no idea what happened, the episode hadn't aired yet.
but your heart breaks seeing your girlfriend. you immediately squeeze her in your arms, she bursts into tears again, sobbing, clinging to you, unable to make any words.
she tells you later when you're curled up in bed, what happened and how she got eliminated. when she drifts off to bed, you stare at her sleeping face, now devoid of tears, she looked peaceful. and those sick thoughts come back.
you felt grateful she was eliminated. she was brought down to your level again. she was just another trainee now. it was terrible, but you had her again, you weren't going to lose her. you should've felt angry, sad, disappointed her dreams were just ripped away from her after getting so close. but you felt relieved instead. what a terrible person you were.
soon enough, it's the finals.
momo's dyed her hair a light blonde colour and cut bangs. you went with her and helped her pick it out the day after she came home. she needed a fresh start, needed to forget the pain it felt to be back at square 1.
now you stood with her in the crowd with the other eliminated trainees. you nod at them politely, but you have your hand tightly gripped with momo's anxiously looking up at the stage waiting for your other two girlfriends to appear. you hadn't seen them in months and you'd missed them.
momo had talked your ear off about everything that happened while she was on the show. updated you on everything. it felt nice, to be included again, to feel needed, wanted.
and momo wasn't shy about how supportive she was of nayeon and sana. constantly bringing them up during the day, wondering how they were doing, if they'd eaten yet, if they were getting enough sleep, hoping they weren't thinking about her getting eliminated too much, praying they'll both make the final group.
you agreed with her each time, but she made you feel like a terrible girlfriend. she was what you were meant to be when she was still on the show. you try and make up for it in the last few weeks, making signs and pasting pictures of nayeon and sana on posters, making some for both you and momo to bring to the finals. she grins and kisses you on the head when she sees them, saying how sweet you were, how considerate you were. you smile guiltily, knowing that was far from the truth.
finally, the lineup starts to be announced.
you spot sana on the majors side already, nayeon still on the minors side. you have your fingers crossed, anxiously watching, momo's hand is white from how hard she's gripping yours, just as anxious.
nayeon's name is announced first.
momo bursts into tears, smiling, crying. she's so proud. you are too. she made it. you always knew she would. im nayeon was born to be a star.
and then, after the first seven are confirmed, sana's spot also secured, jyp makes the surprise announcement. it was going to be a nine member group. he announces tzuyu first, as the fan favourite.
and then, momo's name is read out.
momo is in shock at first, but trainees around you start clapping her on the back, congratulating her, and she starts sobbing again, covering her face as the camera pans to her. you quickly let go of her hand, not wanting to arouse any suspicions. she tries and looks at you but she's pushed up on stage before she knows it.
you can see nayeon and sana in the back, crying, in shock as well.
you can't even listen to momo's speech.
you feel like you're the only person in the entire venue again. it was quiet. you were alone. again.
your feet start to move on autopilot again. dissociating.
you manage to slip through the crowd, back turned, not realising the girls were searching the crowd, looking for you. wanting to share one of the most important parts of their lives with you. you were too selfish to let them.
you're at the dorms again, the suitcase is out, already half-packed from the last time you'd thought about doing this. this time though, they wouldn't be able to stop you. there'd be an afterparty, you were sure, they'll probably expect to see you there, they won't. then they'll come home, worried, and find all your things gone. the only remnant of your existence, a letter placed carefully on the bed.
dear nayeon, momo, sana,
firstly, congratulations. if anyone deserved those spots, it was you three. you've all worked so hard to get here, and i'm so proud of you all. your dreams are coming true. everything you've ever thought was out of reach, is about to become reality. you deserve all the fame, money, love, everything, and i know it's going to come your way, because i fell for you too.
i'm sorry. i'm not who you thought i was. i'm not a good person. and you deserve to be with good people. i'm leaving. for good this time. i'm sorry that i chose tonight to do this, when you three should be on top of the world, in a way, it's my own sort of revenge i guess. selfishly making you feel a little of what i've felt the last few months. it's why i can't be with you anymore. i'll only bring you down more. i loved you all. i didn't want to start hating you for being better than me, i wanted to keep the memories of our love pure and joyful. if i stayed, i'd grow to despise you for having what i've wanted for all my life. i didn't want that. i'm a terrible person, i could never ask for your forgiveness, only that you forget about me. forget me and continue living your lives under the spotlight, don't let me drag you back into the shadows. don't try and find me.
i'm sorry.
when they try and call you, you'll be on the flight home, your phone unable to receive any of their messages. you throw away your phone as soon as you arrive, buying a new one and starting your new life.
they barely have time to chase after you. you'd be grateful for that. they're thrown straight into schedules and planning for their debut.
eventually, you become a distant memory for them, as they do for you.
when you're older, you'll find a box you sealed away, filled with pictures of the four of you, young and in love. you'll sit there, thumbing through them, crying, wondering how you could possibly have let them go. you'll think back to your actions, appalled at the person you were, hating the industry for pitting you against them, and then realising it was your fault the entire time. you were young, stupid, greedy, you thought your dream mattered more to you than the girls did. now that you’re older, you realise you were so wrong. the girls were your dream.
you'll buy a ticket for their concert while they’re on tour, and you'll quietly cry to yourself again, seeing them in person, grown up, smiling, singing, doing what they loved in front of crowds of people who loved them as much as they loved you all those years ago. you'll think about making yourself known to them, but you'd hurt them enough. they seemed happy now, you had no place intruding on that anymore.
you were just another stranger now. you have been for years. and you had no one to blame but yourself.
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trippinsorrows · 4 months ago
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looking through your eyes + eight
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authors note: so....i like cliched shit, so there's some of that here. hope it's not too much. this one is also very heavy at points, so please read the warnings, but it def has its moments that help progress the plot. also, the book referenced is a real work that we often use in therapy with survivors of sexual trauma. an excellent, powerfully healing read. i own neither the book nor the excerpt used.
if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!
cw/tw: references to csa, aftermath of csa, character being triggered, scene of violence/torture, fluff, angst, language, and suggestive themes
song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes
masterlist
words: 12k (i clearly don't know how to stop. it is what it is)
It's out of our hands We can't stop what we have begun
---Leann Rimes
“Clarke.”
There’s a heavy sigh followed by continued writing, icy blue eyes focused on the report before her instead of the irksome man before her, no doubt giving her those ‘fuck me’ eyes that would be an HR nightmare if HR actually did any fucking thing at this precinct.
She finishes her quote before asking with all the intentional disinterest, “what do you want, Reed?”
His question, as well as his intrusion by her desk, is expected. “why aren’t you joining the rest of us for the luncheon today?”
It’s none of his business, and Danica has no issues telling him that in intentionally vague terms. “Got somewhere to be.” 
Finally looking up, she sees Reed’s gaze go cold. “Where?”
Danica drops her pin and answers in the sweetest yet nastiest voice she can muster before 10am. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but the Miller girl is being released from the hospital today.”
Reed is just as confused as he is stupid. “Who?”
His obtuseness shouldn’t surprise nor irritate her, but it does. She remembers every single case she’s ever worked, and she’s certain this one will always remain at the top of the list. No matter how far she gets into her career. “Solana Miller. Xavier Miller’s daughter. The home invasion—”
“I know.” Reed’s almost relaxed, nosy disposition has entirely shifted. “Captain said the case was closed. Kid doesn’t want to press charges.”
“That kid is fucking traumatized. Don’t put that on her. Xavier is the one refusing to let us proceed.”
Reed leans forward, harshly whispering, “keep your fucking voice down, alright? Miller is…..he’s not someone you want to piss off. If he says we don’t run it, then we don’t run it, got it?”
“And who the hell is he to decide how the law works?” Clarke is also leaned over her desk, almost a month worth of pent up frustration with the lack of justice bubbling to the surface. “You read that medical report. You were on the scene. You don’t beat a grown man the way they beat that little girl. She could barely fucking walked. Dragged herself to a neighbors to ask for help. It’s a miracle she’s still alive.”
“But she is, okay?” He’s also matching her energy, just as passionate about blatant injustice as she is for said justice. “The best thing to do for that kid is to let her go home, heal, and move on with her life.”
And that’s the part that almost breaks her, that almost makes her shift from her role as an advocate to the survivor within that so deeply identifies with Solana.“You really think it’s that simple? Like she can just go back into the house where she was raped and almost killed and pretend like nothing happened?”
“No, I don’t know, Clarke, and quite frankly, I don’t care. I’m moving on and picking my battles wisely.” His voice switches to something ominous. “And if you knew what was good for you, you’d move on too.”
Aware of the underlying implications of his warning, she calls his bluff, “you threatening me?”
“Believe it or not, I actually do like you, Danica, but you’re playing a dangerous game.” Reed’s voice lowers again, and Danica almost feels like he’s trying to be genuine. “I know you’re still new around here, so let me give some free advice. Xavier Miller is a dangerous man. He’s got friends in places you don’t want to find out about. Leave this alone before you’re the next mutilated body we find floating in the river, alright?”
________
Danica Clarke has always been stubborn, a trait she’s certain will lead to her demise, but if this is the route that brings her to said demise, she’s okay with it. 
Danica waits in the doorway, aware of how knocking can be alarming. She waits and assesses for the moment Solana’s gaze is close enough to where she won’t be as startled. “Hey there, pretty girl….”
Sure enough, Solana jumps a bit, and Danica is pleased to see the swelling on her face has gone down tremendously and the bruising has started to fade to an almost flesh toned color. She looks less at death’s door than the first time Danica was introduced to the 12-year-old.
“Can I come in?”
As expected, Solana doesn’t say anything, just nods quietly. 
Danica moves to sit in the chair on the side of the bed. “Heard you were getting released today….” Danica studies Solana carefully, adding kindly, “may be kinda nice to have a change of scenery.”
Solana remains quiet, but Danica has been around enough survivors, remembers her own survivor story, to know that nothing feels nice or good in the immediate aftermath. There’s just numbness and pain. No in-between.
“I’m so sorry there’s nothing more I can do to help you, Solana. I really am.” And she means that with every fiber of her being. “You didn’t deserve this. You deserve justice, and I wish there was more I could do, but….my hands are tied.” Danica’s only been at this precinct for less than six months, and while asking to be transferred won’t be a good look when evaluations roll around, she doesn’t give a fuck. She can’t serve with bastards who would let sick fucks like Solana’s attackers walk around freely. 
It’s too repulsive.
“But, I do…..I want to give you something.” Danica reaches into her backpack and pulls out something she hasn’t had to look at in years. A book, thick, with yellow, paperback binding. The edges are a bit worn, and certain parts are highlighted, but it’s still just as powerful nonetheless. “When I was….a little younger than you, I was raped too.” Danica sees Solana’s gaze lift up, surprise and shock written on her face. “And it wasn’t until I was a freshman in college that I started to heal and finally process what’d happened to me.” Danica’s lips press together. “The counselor I saw in college, she gave me this book, and it changed my life.”
Solana looks down, reading the title, typed in big, black letters: The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse.
“I wanna read something out of it for you, if that’s alright?” Consent, especially now, is everything, so Danica waits patiently for Solana again to nod, permitting her permission to read. 
With a deep breath to also prepare herself for revisiting the past, she begins reading a passage that Solana can see she has highlighted. 
“I know you're in a world of pain, but that pain will lessen. At the beginning you can't see that. You can only see your pain and you think it will never go away. But the nature of pain is that it changes— it changes like a sunset. At first, it's this intense red-orange in the sky, and then it starts getting softer and soften. The texture of pain changes as you work through it. And then one day, you wake up and realize that life isn't just about working through your abuse; it's about living, too.”
Danica looks up to see Solana sniffling, wiping at her eyes. She’s tempted to reach and take her hand, but she also knows better, knows that the last thing this child wants is to be touched.
“I want you to have this, Solana. I want you to take it, and when you’re older, when you’re ready to reclaim your voice, and you will, I want you to read every word in here. From cover to back cover. You’re gonna be okay, sweetie. You don’t feel it now, but you have to believe it.” Her eyes gloss over. “Don’t ever stop living, Solana.”
“Solana.”
Flashbacks and memories from that time of her life don’t happen often, and it’s an intentional thing on Solana’s part.
She doesn’t like thinking about that part, but this certain memory has now revisited her a total of three times now. Twice in a dream and now in the middle of a conversation with Bayley and Naomi.
That…..that can’t be a coincidence.
“I’m sorry.” Apologizing seems like the most appropriate thing until Naomi shakes her head.
“Roman said we’re not supposed to accept or condone you apologizing for anything, so imma pretend like I didn’t hear that, sis.” 
Roman….
He confuses her. 
He’s certainly unlike any man she’s ever met. And though that number is far from generous, he’s still the anomaly. 
After essentially rejecting what was an….interesting, unfamiliar, different experience between the two of them, she expected him to be upset. To be frustrated. To be absolutely all over her baggage. To ignore her.
But, that’s not what happened, none of that has happened. Instead, he’s carried on like nothing happened, like she didn’t run away from him in near tears. 
Like they didn’t….like they didn’t almost have a moment.
He’s stayed true to his word in that he’s met her every day after work in the week that’s passed. And while the first day was awkward, mostly on her part, they’ve fallen back in that same confusing yet peaceful space. 
Confusing yet peaceful…that seems to be the theme since the day she said “I do.”
It’s not uncomfortable nor unpreferred over where she came from.
It’s just…..different. 
“Oh—okay.” Solana doesn’t know what else to say but notices that Naomi looks like she has something else to say but is hesitant. “Is—is everything okay?”
That seems to be the door that paves the way for said conversation.  “I’ve been thinking. You’ve come a long way. Like, you’ve really got the basics down, all the defensive positions, even fluidity of movement.” It’s leading up to something, Solana is certain of this, but it also means a lot to her that Naomi believes she’s progressed. Doing well with this or even retaining Naomi’s training is something she never saw for herself. “I want to advance you to learning attacks. Solana’s stomach starts to tighten. “With weapons.”
And there it is.
Solana winces. “Weapons?”
Bayley sighs, joining in to help Naomi present her case. “We wanna teach you how to use knives.” Solana’s stomach tightening quickly morphs into twists and knots. “Hear me out, please. I know….I know that’s gotta be a sensitive thing for you, and I totally understand why, but knife fighting is a really great skill to have, even if just to have one on you at all times and know how to use it if need be.”
“And let’s be honest, Roman isn’t going to let anything happen to you to where you would need it, but still.” Something tells Solana Naomi isn’t wrong about that. That neither woman is wrong in what they’re saying, but just the conversation brings back flashes of that night, the night that left the physical and mental scars she still bears now.
Bayley offers a sympathetic smile. “Just think about it, okay?” Solana can do that. She will do that, just….maybe not right now.
And she doesn’t have to because Roman and the twins suddenly enter the gym space. Solana’s stomach tightens seeing Roman shirtless, a sight that’s happened a couple times now, and each time doesn’t seem to make it any easier on her nerves. If anything, it gets worse.
“Whassup, ladies.” Jey greets, clapping his hands as he asks, “ya’ll ready for tonight?”
“Tonight?” Solana speaks up, not directing her question to anyone in particular, but Bayley is the one to answer. “What—what’s tonight?”
“Night of Champions.” She then goes on to explain. “It’s one of our annual wrestling events. Naomi and I are competing.”
Curious, Solana turns to Roman. “Are you fighting?” 
Jimmy, however, is the one to answer. “Soso, Big Dog don’t do these events no more. Not very often anyway, but he’ll be there.”
“Can I come?” Solana directs her question to Roman, knowing that it will be his call. He eyes her unexpectedly. 
“You want to?”
She nods, referring to the group. “I—I wanna see them fight.”
It also feels like the right thing to do, to support the two women who’ve been nothing but supportive of her since day one. Even Jimmy and Jey with their often inappropriate comments about her body and continuous praise over her cooking abilities. It’s still always been very respectful in a strange sort of way.
Roman steps towards her, and Solana finds that it takes a concentrated effort to keep her eyes on his and to not gaze downward. Him being shirtless before her doesn’t help with the attraction she’s still trying to wrap her head around and navigate. 
He lowers his voice, asking, “you sure?”
She’s confused only for a second when she remembers why he seems to be ensuring this is what she wants. This will be the first time Solana has returned to the Warehouse since Grayson and Austin’s attack, since she caused a whole scene that resulted in the whole damn place being shut down and Roman sending a grim message to all.
For a second, she backs away, retreats from her initial desire. Briefly tells herself that this isn’t what she wants, but that other distant voice in the back of her head, not as present or loud, seems to win the battle this time around.
“Yes,” is the final answer she settles on. “I’ll be fine.”
Roman nods, informing. “We leave at 6:30.”
Solana starts to wonder about what this night could entail when Jey suddenly expresses, “It’s kinda nice outside. I think I’m gonna go for a swim. Get in that aquatic cardio.” 
Jimmy also cosigns this after sharing a quick kiss with Naomi. “Oh shit, yeah, lets’ do it
Roman is instantly annoyed, asking with all of the exasperation. “Don’t ya’ll have a pool at your houses?”
“Yeah, but yours is nicer.” Jimmy answers like it’s the simplest thing in the world. He then looks over at Solana, asking, “you joining us, Soso?”
And that, not the idea of returning to the place where she was almost attacked, is what brings on the heavier anxiety. Once upon a time, Solana loved the pool. Swimming with her mom on hot, summer scorching days used to be some of her favorite memories. Now, those memories are plagued with flashbacks of being held under water, a form of torture implemented by her brother.
“N–no.” Solana catches Roman’s gaze on her, the way his eyes dip to her running her fingers against the sides of her workout pants. “I—ummm—I’m going into work for a little bit today, so I should get ready to go.”
Roman speaks up first, skeptical.  “I didn’t know you were going in today.”
“I have to take care of something.”
Solana being vague is new, it’s unfamiliar, and it doesn’t feel the best to lie to him in a sense. Even if it’s less a lie and more a vague answer. 
There is something she needs to take care of. She just has no desire or even ability to tell him just what she needs to take care of, because that would mean she has to tell him the why, and that is something she’s never discussed with anyone and has no desire ever to.
________
Dear Mom,
I’m sorry I haven’t written you as much. Life has been….very confusing and different, but not bad. I think….I think I like living here.
I like Bayley and Naomi. They’re so nice to me. I think you would like them too. Bayley is Mexican, so we talk in Spanish sometimes, and I love that because it reminds me of us, mama, all our conversations and writings.
Jimmy and Jey, Roman’s cousins, make me laugh. They’re also nice to me, and they really like my cooking, your cooking. I still use a lot of the recipes you taught me.
I finally have a dog, mami! Her name is Dulce. She’s so sweet and little and adorable. Roman got her for me. 
Roman…
He’s not what I expected. I don’t….I don’t understand why he’s nice to me. Cause that’s what it is. That much I’ve finally realized. He’s….nice to me. 
I’ve never had a man be nice to me. 
We had….something happen a week ago. I still don’t really know how to describe it, just that he was touching me, not even inappropriately. And I think…..I think I liked it, but then I got scared because it was like….it was like it wasn’t him touching me. It was them. 
And I….I hate that. I hate it because it’s miserable feeling this way. Wanting something but not wanting it. Being scared of something but wanting it. Desiring to be close to someone but not wanting that either.
I feel so torn sometimes. 
I’ve been thinking a lot about that book the detective gave me after it happened. There’s gotta be a reason I kept it all these years. I think….I think I want to read it.
I don’t know what to expect, and I’m nervous because I don’t like thinking about it, but I can’t, I don’t, want to keep living like this.
I can’t.
________
When Solana asked to attend Night of Champions, she was thinking it would be similar to WarGames. A foolish assumption. It is in the sense that the arena area is packed, not a single seat unoccupied, the boisterous sound of loud chatter and music serving as a backdrop against said chatter. That’s all the same and unchanged.
What is different and what Solana should have thought about was the fact that the two women who made her feel so comfortable last time won’t be there this time, because they’re competing. And so are the twins. 
And Nicki is apparently upset with Jey—a recurrent theme, it seems—so she also won’t be present.
That leaves one person.
Roman.
Solana didn’t think about the fact that she’d be seated with Roman. It’s not as nerve-racking as it could be, as it probably would have been almost three months ago when this whole new, unexpected chapter of her life began. 
But, it’s still a bit anxiety inducing.
She doesn’t miss how Roman’s grip on her hand remains firm on hers from the moment he helps her out the SUV, his eyes again taking her in the same way he did when she met him back in his office to tell him she was ready to go.
Solana initially felt unsure of herself given the fact that Naomi and Bayley could only pick out her outfit, shoes, and accessories for the night but couldn’t actually help her get ready given the fact that they were competing. Solana struggled to navigate her hair, as always, pinning it up on her head, and her makeup definitely isn’t as nice as the night of WarGames, but it mostly covers up her facial scar, and that’s all that matters.
Still, she must not look completely awful because Roman did not hesitate to give her a slow one over followed by a muttered “damn” and more vocalized, “fuck, you look good.”
She’s starting to lose count of how many times he’s said that now, and each new occurrence still gives her the same butterflies as the first time.
Roman escorts them to their seats, the twins and Paul already being present. Jimmy is the first to speak, whistling loudly.
“Damn, Soso. How we supposed to fight and you distracting us looking all fine and shit?”
“If you want to live and make it to the actual fight, you’ll shut the fuck up.” It’s hard for Solana to tell just when Roman is being completely honest with his cousins or just deadly honest with his cousins. 
This is one of those moments. 
“Thank you.” She doesn’t know what else to say, what kind of response is appropriate to something that isn’t as so.
Roman then motions for Solana to sit down and easily props his big body down in the seat right next to her. Their arms are nearly touching, but she tries not to think of that. Tries to distract herself by asking the twins, “shouldn’t you be in the locker room?”
“Naw, we fight toward the end of the night, so we like to assess with Roman till then.”
“Assess?”
While Jey was the one to provide the initial answer, Jimmy handles the clarification. “You gon be a member of the Warehouse, you gotta earn that shit. That means doing your thing in the ring. You ain’t cutting it, you out.”
Solana nods, quietly. It makes sense. Roman seems like a man with high standards. “So…you all have the final say?”
Jimmy takes a sip of his beer, shaking and nodding his head toward his cousin. “Naw, that’s all Big Dog.”
Solana glances at her husband who’s focused not necessarily on the conversation at hand but the preparation for what’s sure to be an eventful night. 
“If you don’t mind, My Tribal Chief is trying to focus here.” Paul’s voice, equally nice as it is nasty, reminds her of his presence. For some reason, she’s surprised by said presence, though she shouldn’t be. It’s clear the Wise Man is an important asset to Roman. 
“Whassup, my dogs!”
Just then a lanky man comes over to the group. He’s wearing a black t-shirt that says ‘honorary uce’ and has wild red hair that looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in weeks. Solana takes a second to look at him, finding him strangely familiar. It’s then she realizes that he fought with Roman, Solo, and the twins during WarGames.
He goes for some kind of special handshake with Jimmy, then Jey, and finally Roman who looks like he’s contemplating murder rather than wanting to return the greeting. He quickly plays it off, “that is well—okay my tribal chief, and—wow—” Him turning to Solana, finally noticing and acknowledging her, is an experience for the both of them. She notices his initial gaze sets on her chest which is uncomfortable but not entirely unexpected given the style of her dress. Still, she shifts in her seat, uneasy with the attention. “Those are—-ummm—” His eyes go wide, as he moves to backtrack on an obvious Freudian slip. “I mean, it’s uh, very nice to meet you, ma’am, or Mrs. Reigns, or your highness. Whichever you prefer is a-okay with—“
“Sami.”
His shoulders hunch and head drops in shame, like he already knows what’s coming. “Yes, Tribal Chief?”
“Go sit somewhere else.”
This Sami person doesn’t even hesitate, confirming he already knew he fucked up in the less than five minutes he was present. “Yes, my Tribal Chief.”
Solana watches, still partially confused but also kind of amused as he wastes no time in departing. 
Paul then leans over, chatting away, “I told you, my Tribal Chief, I never liked Shmuel. He’s always been so beneath you. I understand he makes easy collateral, but—“
Roman sighs loudly. “Wise Man.”
“Yes, my Tribal Chief?”
“Go join Sami.”
“But……” Solana looks over at Paul. His expression is one of devastation, like he’s just been told he had six months to live. “I—I always sit with you for Night of Champ—“
“Wise Man.”
Paul swallows. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”
“I’m not gon tell you again.” Roman finally looks over at his closest advisor, forcefully enunciating and instructing, “go.”
Similar to Sami, the Wise Man walks off with his tail between his legs, leaving just Solana, Roman, and the twins. 
She has no idea where Solo is. 
“See, now you ain’t even have to do all that, Big Dog. You be getting yourself all upset over nothing. You need to start doing some deep breathing or shit, then maybe you could get off them high blood pressure pills.” 
It’s that last part that Solana zones in on, that makes her turn to Roman, “you have high blood pressure?”
He lifts his eyes, dismissing, “it’s nothing.”
“Can’t—can’t that be dangerous?” It’s not necessarily a question she needs him to answer. Solana is well read on a variety of subjects, especially subjects pertaining to physical health. High blood pressure can mess with a lot of things, a lot of organs. Eyes. Brain.
Heart
Jimmy is the one to chime in, asking with that typical tone of humor. “Soso, you do know what he does for a living right?”
But, it’s hard for her to find said humor when all she’s thinking about now is how certain meals she’s prepared for him could maybe not be the best for his high blood pressure. How she could be exacerbating that.
Feeling pressured by her inner monologue, she offers, “I can change how I cook for you.” And she can. She probably will, making a mental note to peruse through her mom’s recipe books that would be more aligned with the type of diet he probably needs. “I know there’s certain things you probably shouldn’t eat—”
“Solana.” He interrupts, but it’s not with that same irritation he had towards Sami and Paul. “I’m fine. My numbers weren't that bad. The doctor is just being over cautious.”
She wants to believe him, wants to not be as…bothered by this as she is, but something tells her Roman isn’t unlike most men who downplay these sorts of things.
Letting the conversation go, her determination to help him maintain his health remains. 
The conversation shifts to a dialogue between the twins and Roman, the three men conversing in Samoan. She doesn’t mind this, as it also allows her the space to catch the gaze of Bayley and Naomi who look freaking amazing in their gear.
“Soso.”
“I swear to God, if you call her that one more fucking time—”
Jey, possibly foolishly, waves off Roman’s threat. “You understand Yeet, right?”
Blinking twice, she asks, “what?”
“Yeet,” Jimmy says it too, like it’s as basic a word as they come. “Our motto.”
“I—” Honesty is a bit easier with her husband’s cousins. “N–no.”
“Man,” Jey makes a sound with his teeth and jumps right into the explanation. “It’s like a way of life. Like, you yeet when life going good—”
“—when life going bad.”
“—or when you leaving.”
“—or going.”
“It’s a way of life.”
Jimmy and Jey playing off of each other for their presentation is entertaining, at best, but it doesn’t leave her any less confused than she was just a minute ago.
“I—I still don’t get it.”
And that, for the first time, is when Solana hears Roman laugh. It’s not something she ever thought possible, but it’s there, his handsome face turned into an amusing expression as he expresses vindication. “I told you it was fucking stupid.”
“See, I thought we was close, Soso. I thought we was becoming family and shit, but I see you a hater like your husband.”
At that, Jey punches his brother on the arm, reminding with a rough mutter, “man, she be cooking, don’t be fucking up our good thing.”
“Aww shit.” Jimmy quickly moves to backtrack. “I mean, I could see your point.”
Conversation continues as such until the start of the night, Solana watching as the three men around her easily shift into an almost business mode. Their gazes are almost intense, watching closely as matches begin.
Solana partially expected to have to sit and remain quiet for the evening, but certain moves, similar to what Naomi and Bayley have taught her, catch her attention. And it must show, because Solana finds herself occasionally being asked by Roman if she has any questions or if she understands why a fighter did a certain mood.
Some she can answer. Some she cannot. 
So she asks him.
And he answers all of them, clearly, concisely, in a way she can understand.
If Roman is irritated by any of her questions, he does a damn good job not showing as such. And to her credit, she does her best to take a guess vs asking outright with certain things, pulling from her time with Bayley and Naomi. 
And in certain matches, she’s fully immersed in watching their expertise that questions aren’t even a thing. Like the tag team match between two of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen, Jade and Bianca, as Roman called them. Same with Naomi and Bayley who independently show her a side of their ruthlessness she figured existed but hadn’t seen firsthand until tonight.
“Do you all learn how to fight when you’re kids?”
“More or less,” Roman answers, and Solana has a hard time not staring, not being caught up by how handsome this man really is. “This life….it’s kill or be killed. So to not be killed, you learn how to fight. How to survive.”
Survive…
Solana has such a complicated relationship with that otherwise simple word. 
“How come….how come you don’t fight as much?” She’s wondered about this, come up with speculation but would like to know for certain, especially as he seems to be in a relatively decent mood.
Like most things, he keeps his answer nice, simple, and vague. “I don’t have anything to prove to anyone.”
“Did–did you?” He looks over at her, and warmth rises back as she tries to clarify. “At some point, I mean.”
Again, it’s a one-worded response. “Yes.”
She’s not entirely sure just what he’s saying ‘yes’ to, but a full blown out explanation was never expected. He doesn’t seem like the type. But something more would have been….nice. Granted, Solana realizes she’s probably pushing her luck in asking all these questions anyway and sits back in her seat, relegating herself to focusing on the current match.
The chill of the arena makes its reminder yet again as Solana crosses her arms over her body, trying to warm herself. The man beside herself notices this, accurately assessing, “you’re cold.”
True to her nature, Solana shakes her head, downplaying the fact that she is very much cold. “I’m fine.”
Downplaying or being outright dishonest is clearly something Solana would do well to push away, because it seems like this man is capable of seeing right through any and all lies.
Roman shifts forward in his seat and removes his jacket, reaching it to her. “Here.”
Rejection would be rude. It would also make her feel even more bad than she already does at inconveniencing him. Still, her options are really singular, meaning there are no others. Only one.
Mustering a small smile, she accepts his objectively kind gesture, sliding her arms through and adjusting as best she can given their size difference. Warmth overcomes her as well as the scent of his collage, something masculine, almost minty. It fits him.
Silence befalls them for a comfortable while before Solana excuses herself to use the bathroom, Roman only nodding in acknowledgment. 
It’s in walking down the hall that Solana sees Jade and Bianca chatting away, admiring their championship belts. The taller of the two, Jade, happens to glance her way and smiles, exclaiming, “Girl, you are wearing the hell out of that dress!”
“Absolutely killing it,” Bianca also compliments, her smile just as genuine and affable. 
Solana is certain she’s just staring dumbly for a good couple of seconds, because such a compliment from two objectively stunning women towards her was the last thing she expected. 
Descending off her shock, she offers an equally genuine smile and expression of appreciation. “Thank you so much.”
The compliment keeps that smile planted on her face. It’s so unexpected but deeply appreciated.  
Solana dries her hands and tosses the used paper towels in the trash. It’s a brief glance at herself in the mirror that serves as the start of the slippery slope, landing her back in a brief state of uncertainty. The dress is so revealing, much more revealing than anything she could or would ever wear. But it’s hard to think or sit too much in that discomfort when the night has consisted of several compliments. Sami, Jimmy, Jey, now Bianca and Jade. Not to mention the biggest one, or maybe the one that gives her the most butterflies, coming from Roman. 
“Fuck, you look good.”
Her smile shifts from something more silly to something a bit more bashful, her cheeks warming at someone as handsome and powerful as Roman Reigns thinking that she looks good.
Thinking that she’s beautiful.
A toilet flushes from the only other taken stall, and the door opening reveals the perfect reason why Solana should have just went straight back to join Roman instead of having a mental discourse in the bathroom.
Samantha’s long, shapely legs are the first thing Solana notices along with the way her dress melts to her toned, curvy body. She looks good, and she has to know that she looks good. A woman like her probably has men lined up by the dozen, Roman being at the front of that line. 
Samantha’s dark lips form into a smirk as she walks over to the sink. “Surprised to see you tonight.” She moves to wash her hands. “After that not so little incident a while back, I figured that was the last day you’d step foot in here.”
Solana swallows. She’s managed to not think about that day since it happened. Samantha bringing it up is definitely salt on an open wound. “I—umm.”
“Nice dress. A lil snug though. Maybe go up a size next time?” Her voice, so sweet and sugary, is also venomous and knowing. “Or two.”
Solana’s hands naturally move to her stomach, forearms trying to block the part of her body she hates the most and is certain Samantha is primarily referring to.
“Sage, right?” She doesn’t give Solana a chance to respond. “Let me give you some advice. Woman to woman.”
Something tells Solana she’s not going to like this advice. 
Samantha dries her hands and walks up to Solana. “I know you’re Roman’s wife, but you can’t seriously think that means anything to him, right? It’s just a title, and he’ll defend you only because it’s defending his pride.” Solana tries to not put too much into Samantha’s hurtful words, but it’s hard not to when Solana knows Roman continues to be intimate with this woman, even after their marriage. She can’t blame him for that, though, especially since he’s definitely not getting it from her. Still, it does sting a bit. “Trust me, I’ve known him very well since we were in high school.” Samantha smirks, chuckling. “So, I would know.”
“Bitch, you don’t know shit.”
The last voice Solana expected to enter the conversation was that of Nia’s. But sure enough, Roman’s’ cousin stands near the bathroom door, arms crossed over her body. 
Samantha’s expression sours tremendously as she icily greets the other woman, bigger, stronger, maybe even prettier. “Nia.”
Nia ignores the greeting and comes to stand near Solana, immediately going in on the slender women. “If you know him so well and you supposedly mean that much to him, how come it’s not you with a wedding ring on your finger?” Solana says nothing, keeping her gaze down, but it doesn’t stop her from also thinking about that very valid question. Just why didn’t Roman marry Samantha? “Or better yet,” Solana glancing back up allows her to see Nia’s cruel smile. “Why is it Solana’s name he said when he was fucking you?”
What?
Solana is visibly shaken by that because where in the hell did that even come from? There’s no way that can be true. No way Roman could be in bed with someone like Samantha and say her name. 
But Samantha is visibly disturbed, lip almost curling into an almost snarl as she spits, “fuck you, Nia.”
“I’d call you Solana too, so I don’t think you’d want that.”
Samantha storms out of the bathroom without another word leaving Solana alone with Nia, Solana who is still trying to process what was just said and finds herself asking Nia. 
“Is—is that true? Did you—did you really hear about Roman—ummm—”
Typically, Solana would keep her questions in the safety of her mind, but this…..this feels almost impossible to not seek clarification on. 
“You know he’s my cousin, right?” Nia looks visibly disgusted but still answers her question. “I would never make something up like that about family. Samantha is a blabber mouth that doesn’t realize she shares her shit with that dumbass best friend of hers, Tiffy, and the whole town knows.”
The answer is appreciated, but it still leaves Solana with so many questions. 
“I—I don’t understand.” Again, it’s something meant to stay inside but manages to slip past the cracks. 
“God, you are naive.” Nia rolls her eyes and explains while crossing her arms. “Sweetie, if a man is balls deep in Woman A and says Woman B’s name, Woman A is not who he wants.” 
That seems almost inconceivable to Solana. For Roman to think she looks good and maybe even consider her beautiful is one thing, but for him to desire her in that way is something entirely different.
She doesn’t know what to do with this information.
“Don’t let that skinny bitch get to you.” Nia seems eager to switch the conversation to something different. “She’s a pussy. All bark and no bite. Remember, you have the ring on your finger. You just have to put her in her place one good time, and she’ll leave you be. And if not, let Roman know. He’d never hurt or kill her himself, but he’d definitely ask me to, and truth be told, I’ve wanted to snap that bitch’s neck since high school, so you’d be doing everyone a favor.”
Solana can’t allow herself, or maybe more so doesn’t have the capacity, to think about that right now. She’s still trying to get a grip on chapter one. Still, she offers a quiet ‘thank you’ to Nia, turning to leave when the taller woman says her name. Solana turns back around. “Yes?”
Nia sighs and rolls her eyes. “I know you think I hate you, but I don’t. I may hate how soft you are, but I don’t hate you.” Nia then smirks with an almost playful add on of, “I don’t care enough about you to hate you.”
________
As expected, Roman is immediately asking what took so long the second Solana is back in her seat. 
Her excuse is weak. She tells him that there was a line, but it’s the best thing she can come up with on the spot. His expression is all the answer she needs that he certainly doesn’t believe her but will let it go.
For now. 
The rest of the night seems to be more of a blur, Solana now more consumed with trying to wrap her head around this newest bit of information. 
The twins end up finishing off the event with a brutal but successful match where they, as expected, retain their tag team titles.  
Solana could see this, understandably, pleased Roman. 
And outside of some constructive criticism towards Jey and Jimmy, Roman expressed his desire to leave as soon as they got cleaned up, which took less time than she expected. He’s guiding them, her, out to leave, her hand still in his, when a thickly accented voice calls the attention of the man beside her. 
“Roman Reigns.”
Solana can barely turn around to the source of the voice when Roman’s muscled arm is stretched across her body, moving her behind him, his big body serving as an impenetrable shield.
Because of their height difference, Solana can’t see a whole lot outside of the instant shift of security and even the twins toward whoever this person is. 
“How wonderful for you to bless us with your presence so soon after WarGames.” The man scoffs, clearly trying to bait Roman. “What is this, the second appearance in how many years? Hell hath fuckin’ froze over.”
Solana catches a brief glance of the mystery man and gasps. He has an imposing figure, similar to Roman but there’s something cold about him, something….sinister. 
“How dare you acknowledge the Tribal Chief—” Roman lifts his hand to silence Paul. 
Roman simply states, “talk.” 
“You know what I want, Reigns.” Solana hears a footstep and notices how Roman makes a subtle movement that results in the twins also moving closer towards her, shielding her from this man. “You don’t deserve that title. You may have been a fighter then, but you ain’t now. You’re about the Bloodline, and I respect that, mate, but the Undisputed title deserves to be with someone who defends it more than once a fucking year.”
“So what, you think you the one who gon’ take it? Man, we outta kill your ass right now for talking out your neck like that to our Tribal Chief!”
Solana hates being unable to see Roman, to see his face, to be able to gauge and read his facial expressions. He’s an enigma of a man, typically oscillating between irritated, angry, and indifferent, but not having the option altogether to know where he currently lands is bothersome.  Especially with what comes out of his mouth next.
“Do something.”
Solana freezes. That….that can’t be good.
“You standing up on me. You make a good tough guy face. Do something.”
Solana’s fingers tap against her side, that familiar knotting in her stomach returning. She glances over at Jey who seems to also be a bit confused by Roman’s response.
“Uce—”
Roman ignores him. “Go on. Pull it.”
Jimmy speaks up this time, rough voice quiet but urgent. “Roman, we got Solana here—”
“Come on. Make it happen. What’s different? Ain’t nothing changed. Think back to the last time you challenged me.” Solana hates when Roman moves away from her, because it means he’s a step closer to this man, this man who seems determined to pick a fight with the Tribal Chief and may get just that. “Think about it. I whooped you then. I’ll whoop you now.” Roman speaks with such a confidence about him, the most violent, straightforward promise of sure brutality she’s ever heard from a man. “Ain’t nothing changed.”
Solana isn’t necessarily thinking about what she’s doing when she suddenly moves herself in between Roman and this man who’s apparently hellbent on getting her husband riled up. It’s another unconscious act as she plants her palms against his chest, both relieved and nervous by how his gaze instantly drops to hers.
Solana licks her lips and finds herself pleading in an unexpectedly calm yet typically soft voice. “Let’s just go.” His initial expression of fury and simmering anger seems to lessen the longer he looks at her, and Solana adds on, desperately. “Please.”
This act of boldness is completely unplanned and entirely stems from Solana unable to stop thinking about how Roman being so upset all the time can’t be good for his blood pressure. It can’t be good for his health. 
And for reasons she doesn’t quite understand, that bothers her. It concerns her. 
Him not being healthy concerns her.
What does not surprisingly concern her is when Roman moves his hands down to her hips and almost gently moves her to the side, forcing her hands to drop. She expects him to lunge at the other man or to scold her for interfering, but he does neither.
He steps toward him and simply states with all the coldness, “you’ve got your match, but I set the date when I want it.” Solana’s more or less holding her breath, waiting for Roman to strike the man, or worse. “But know this, McIntyre, you step in that ring with me again, I’m not just ending your career this time, I’m ending your fucking life.”
Roman’s threat sends uneasy chills down her spine. There’s no mistaking Roman’s promise, something she’s certain he will be sure to fulfill.
He then takes her hand again and moves her to the side opposite of the man who looks like he hates Roman as much as Roman probably hates him. Solana is almost entirely eclipsed by Roman’s big body as he walks her past the ordeal.
The car ride is a bit uncomfortably silent, Solana recognizing that Roman is still seething from the exchange but most likely waiting until she’s out of his vicinity to express that rage. 
But, it's when she’s walking back in the house after letting Dulce do her business that Roman catches and speaks to her. 
“Solana.” He’s leaning back against the counter, big arms crossed over his muscular body. He’s so….big. “What happened when you went to the bathroom tonight?”
She can’t be surprised, can’t feel caught off guard by his question. It’s still not something she necessarily wants to talk about or knows how to discuss, but she’ll do the best she can. 
“I ran into Samantha.” Taking a deep breath, she tries her hardest to keep it vague but still an acceptable answer. “I don’t—I don’t think she likes me.”
At that, Roman nearly growls, “what did that bitch say to you?”
Solana winces at his tone. “It wasn’t that bad…”
He’s quick with the dismissal and redirection. “That’s not what I asked you.”
“She just—she just talked about my outfit, that—that was it, because Nia came in there, and well, I don’t—I think Nia might hate her more than she hates me.”
Roman sighs, running his hand over his face. “I’ll handle Samantha.” Before Solana can protest, he adds, “Nia doesn’t hate you.”
This brings a small smile to Solana’s face. “That's what she said.”
Roman also looks slightly amused by this, studying her for a second. “Solana.” The surprises keep on coming, because he takes an unexpected turn in the conversation. “I almost lost my temper tonight.”
This….this feels true. His issuance of threats were delivered in an almost calm manner, but it was more deceptive than anything. Like a setup for violence that was potentially about to unfold if she didn’t interfere.
Still, nothing ended up happening, so it doesn’t make sense for him to act like it did.
“But, you didn’t,” she points out quietly, offering a bit of an olive branch. “And….you were upset.” 
Solana would maybe argue that he’s always in varying states of upsetness, but that’s not the point of the conversation at hand. 
“I have no shortage of enemies, Solana.” His voice takes on a darker, almost subdued tone. It makes her previously amused expression slip into something more somber. “But, I need you to know that I would never do anything that would put you in danger. Drew wanted to issue his challenge. That’s it. He wasn’t going to do anything, because he wants an audience for that. I had it under control.” Solana isn’t questioning that nor did she plan to, but Roman’s next question definitely takes her for a loop. “Were you scared?”
It’s a valid, understandable question that she didn’t think about until this moment. There was anxiety, maybe some element of fear but also concern, so she decides to play down the first two. 
“I wasn’t scared.” It was more concern than fear, which, in her mind, are two different things. “Just….confused about what was happening.”
“That’s not what I meant.” His dismissal is nicer than what anyone else would receive. “Of me, Solana. Were you scared of me?”
Another valid question that she’s actually been thinking about on and off for the past few weeks. Solana would like to consider herself not naive to a lot of things about this life that she was born into. She knows that most of the people who surround her are killers. And Roman is no different. The king of that, maybe.
But…..
But, he’s done nothing thus far to make her ever believe she would ever be subjected to that side of him. If anything, he’s worked to stress and help her understand that she’d never be hurt by him. And adding up all of the things he’s done to support said message, Solana feels it only appropriate to be honest with him. 
About more than just his question.
“When—-when the twins asked earlier today if I wanted to go in the pool, I got nervous because—-” Solana displays her textbook signs of discomfort with the stammering and playing with her fingers but still manages to get out what she wants to share. “Wes, he used to…..hold my head under water until I almost passed out.” Solana looks away for a second, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “That……that’s who I’m afraid of.” Solana manages to set her gaze back on Roman, almost confidently assuring, “I’m not scared of you, Roman.”
He steps toward her, and Solana’s eyes never leave his, mindful of the way his hand lifts, tensing when he rests it against her face, palming her cheek almost gently. Solana stiffens but easily shifts into something not calm but not on edge either. “You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, of anyone. I won’t let anyone else ever hurt you again.”
And for the first time, she believes him without the speck of doubt and uncertainty in the backseat. Solana has seen nothing from the man before her to indicate otherwise. She doesn’t know a lot of things regarding him, regarding them, regarding just why he’s so hellbent on defending her, but one thing she’s realized is that he’s intentional and determined with his dedication to protect her.
This is similar, very similar, too similar to that night where her fears got the best of her, where she was unable to overpower the discomfort and fear. But, this isn’t that night, and Solana doesn’t feel that building dread in the core of her stomach. It could be the fact that it’s only one hand on her, cupping her face. Nowhere else.
It could even be a very early sign that maybe, just maybe, that book she was given so long ago really does have the healing properties someone from so long ago once promised. 
There’s even her conversation with Nia from earlier that sits in the back of her mind, the undeniable confirmation of Roman’s attraction to her. Enough to where he would say her name during that.
Whatever the case, she doesn’t move away, just nods quietly, slowly moving away from him. 
“I’m—I’m gonna get ready for bed.”
Roman says nothing, also nodding as acknowledgment, watching as Solana grabs Dulce and disappears out of his sight but not the front of his mind.
________
The Reigns estate is as spacious as it is grandiose. There are several ways and paths to reach a destination. 
So, Roman doesn’t have to pass Solana’s room to reach his bedroom. There’s an alternative route in coming from where he was working, but he decides this specific way for reasons he’s not entirely sure of.
It ends up being a good decision because it’s in walking past her door that he hears low scraping against said door. Instantly, he knows it’s Dulce clearly needing to go outside. And she confirms as such with her soft whimpering. 
Rolling his eyes, Roman opens the door just enough for Dulce to run out, stopping when she sees it’s him. He glances at the bed to see Solana sleeping, open book on her chest, indicating she fell asleep while reading.
Dulce whines again, and he chides quietly, “be quiet before you wake her up.”
Dulce’s ears go down as Roman picks up the puppy that’s still too little to walk up and down the steps, hence needing human transportation. It’s annoying, but he brings her down the steps and out the backyard. 
Settling her down, he instructs, “go on. Do whatever you gotta do.”
He’ll give the dog some credit where credit is due. She’s far more obedient than he expected for a puppy, because in less than 10 minutes, she’s emptied her bladder and is being carried back to Solana’s room. 
Roman is careful to lay her little ass back in her bed, aware of her bristle looking legs that would probably break with one bad drop. 
Rising back to his full height, he catches Solana turning on her side, the shift in position causing the book to slip and almost fall out the bed, but Roman is fast, catching it before the crash and potential disturbance can wake her up.
Naturally, he glances at the front cover, noticing the age of the book. But the aging look doesn’t mean shit to him when he sees the title and a piece of paper that clearly has Solana’s handwriting. He doesn’t read that, wanting to respect her privacy, but he definitely reads the title, and it instantly shifts his entire mood. 
The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse
It shifts his mood from his default state or irritation to quiet rage. 
There’s only one reason she would be reading this book, working out of this book. And it’s not that he didn’t already know she’d been violated in one way or another. Her medical records confirmed as such.
But, he was thinking she was a teenager, not any better, but definitely not a fucking child.
Someone hurt her when she was still a child, a literal goddamn kid, and this is something Roman cannot find it in him to avoid investigating. He’s always been a man uncomfortable with unanswered questions, and there are no shortage of them in regards to Solana. Not that he would ever put her in a position to answer them. No. He wouldn’t do that to her, would never make her share something like that with him.
But, he does know someone else he can demand answers from. 
Two people, actually. One of them being shit out of luck after narrowly avoiding Roman’s wrath from earlier today in learning that he fucking tortured Solana.
Roman carefully places the book on her nightstand and makes sure Dulce is still in her bed on the other side of Solana’s before quietly closing the door.
Roman is down the hall, powerful strides taking him to his room as he pulls out his phone, dialing the one person he knows for a fact will answer his call at any time. Hitting dial and switching it to speaker, Roman tosses his phone on the bed to get dressed. 
Sure enough, he answers on the second ring.
Roman jumps right into it. “Meet me at the Miller house. Get your brothers.”
Solo only pauses for a second, answering in that stoic voice, “we’ll be there in 30.”
Not good enough. 
“Make it 20.” 
________
As expected, Roman is met at the Miller house by his cousins, all three.
Slamming the car door shut, Roman hears Jimmy yawning loudly. “Man, why the hell is we here?”
Ignoring his older brother, Solo straightens his stance and informs, “I had Pearce disable the security system.”
“Good.” It’s the fact that Solo already knew to do so without being told. Moments like this is when Roman knows he made the right decision promoting and moving Solo up the ranks. He’s more than proved himself.
“I have questions. Miller has answers.” Roman’s answer there is intentionally vague. Solana’s trauma is no one’s business but her own, and just because he is also aware doesn’t mean he needs to broadcast it. “And Solana told me today her brother used to waterboard her.”
“Waterboarding? Like actual fucking torture?” This information seems to awaken both the twins, eliciting angry reactions. “What the fuck is wrong with his ass?”
“We killing them, right?” Jey, forever the hothead and also relatively equal with Roman in terms of how quickly he travels from zero to one-hundred, is the first to ask the most obvious question.
“No. Not tonight. That would be too easy.” And it would. Roman meant that shit when he said he wanted their asses to suffer. “But that doesn’t mean we have to make living easy for them.”
They don’t deserve to live, let alone living easy lives. Not when they’ve done everything seemingly possible to make Solana’s miserable.
Roman then looks towards the twins, instructing, “take care of the brother.” It’s not a necessary directive, but he doesn’t hesitate to add, “make him fucking suffer.”
He then motions for Solo to follow him, the men headed toward the house as Roman swears out loud, “Xavier is mine.” 
Roman steps back as Solo waits zero time in shattering the large window in the living room, providing an entrance for the men. Roman grabs his gun, nodding for the twins to move first, followed by Solo, each man armed with a gun. It’s unnecessary, Roman is certain as they’re more likely to find father and son in the midst of illicit acts vs prepared for the onslaught headed their way. 
Up the stairs and on the second floor, Roman quietly motions for them to split up, Solo and the twins to the right while he moves to the left, the most likely location of the master.
Solo seems to give him an uneasy expression, but Roman simply nods and heads toward his target.
Xavier is his.
The combination of the brothers works just as Roman predicted, them successfully locating the brother’s bedroom, confirmed by his horrified shout of ‘what the fuck! 
It’s followed up with a shout of pain and Jey yelling “Get your bitch ass up!” and “Solo, fill up the tub!”
Pleased, Roman is standing directly outside of Xavier’s door when the older man rips the door open, face contorted in a mixture of shock and anger. That quickly morphs into fear when he realizes just who is responsible for this attack. 
Roman brings the gun across upside Miller’s head, watching the man fall down and writhe in pain, holding his hand against his now bleeding head. 
Undeterred, Roman reaches down, yanking the man up by his neck as he jolts his body against the nearest wall. “We need to talk.” Straight to the point and not in the mood for any bullshit this fucker may try to spew his way, Roman demands,  “I want to know what the fuck happened to my wife.”
And there’s a brief but telltale sign that Xavier knows exactly what he’s referring to without Roman even needing to elaborate. 
That only pisses him off even more. 
Still, Xavier stutters, shaking his head, “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Roman gives a bitter smile, shaking his head and scratching his beard. It’s the last thing he’s certain Xavier sees before Roman again has him up by the collar of his pajama shirt. 
“You really want to play these fucking games with me?” It’s a no. It’s a hell no, but Xavier insulting Roman’s intelligence by lying to him indicates the opposite of no. So, Roman will treat him as such. “Who the fuck touched Solana?”
His question is followed up by screaming coming from down the hall, the beautiful sound of a piece of shit getting exactly what he deserves. 
“What? Ain’t so tough now, little bitch! Like to beat on women but a pussy when it comes to fighting another man!”
And while it could bring a smile to Roman’s face, Xavier looks horrified in hearing Jimmy’s taunts. Instantly, he’s pleading, pathetic and pitiful, “pl—please.”
“I’d torture and kill that bitch right in front of you tonight if I could.” It pisses Roman off to no end how this man can care so much about his demented son but not give a flying fuck about his innocent daughter. “Now, answer my fucking question, who touched Solana?”
Again, Xavier decides to test Roman’s patience, offering unasked information. “She—she was a virgin before she married you.”
“I don’t give a fuck about her being virgin or not!” She could still be a virgin and have been touched. But truth be told, that shit’s never mattered to him anyway. Virgin or no virgin, it’s always been an irrelevant deciding factor to who he took to bed. “Tell me what happened to her or I’ll blow that bitch son of yours fucking brains out right in front of you—”
Roman pulls the gun from out of the back of his pants, knowing full and well that while he would love to empty the entirety of it in the scum before him, it’s better served torturing him in another sort of manner.
Mentally.
And it does the trick.
“Alright, alright!” Xavier finally caves, sweat bubbling across his wrinkled forehead. “She was raped, alright? Two men broke into the house when she was 12 and attacked her. Beat her real bad. They—they never found them. Okay? That—that’s the truth. That’s what happened.”
No. Not fucking okay. Nothing is fucking okay. Roman wanted answers, felt like he needed them, but knowing the truth, it doesn’t do shit but paint his vision red. 
He knew something happened to her. 
He just didn’t know how bad.
Raped. 
Beaten. 
Twelve.
And then another thought hits him, the absolute terror on her face that day when she was faced with what should be the most simplest thing for a person: going into their childhood bedroom. 
Roman remembers her fear, the dried blood, the scratches on the wall. 
It all makes sense.
She was attacked in her fucking bedroom.
The thought of a child being hurt at all has never sat right with him, but to be hurt in that way. As a child, and for that child to have been Solana. 
He’s fucking breathing rage. 
“Where the fuck were you, huh?” Roman jerks his body back against the wall, half ready to break this fucker’s neck. “Answer me!”
“I wasn’t home!” Xavier’s sweating has progressed into droplets from his forehead onto the bridge of his nose and shirt. “I—I was out on a fishing trip with Wes.”
A fishing trip…..
This man was out enjoying fucking nature with his dimwitted offspring while his daughter was at home alone fighting for her fucking life.
“You left a 12 year old home alone?” It keeps getting fucking worse. “How long was she alone!” Roman is fully prepared to risk snapping this motherfucker’s neck when he spits out a desperate answer.
“A week. It was just a week.” And if it makes a fucking difference, he desperately adds on, “I—I’d done it before, and she was fine.”
Xavier is either stupid or very stupid, because Roman can’t conceptualize how this imbecile would think the additional information makes it any better. 
Solana was hurt.
She was hurt in the worst way possible, and it’s all his fault. 
With all of the aggression in his body, Roman throws the piece of shit across the room, intentionally aiming for the glass coffee table that instantly shatters under the weight of his fat ass.
Without a second of fucking hesitation, Roman fires two shots directly into Xavier’s body, one in his right hand and the other in his left foot. Xavier’s shouts of pain do little to dull the unadulterated rage coursing through Roman’s body.
Shouts morph into tiny, pathetic whimpers as Roman slowly walks through the broken glass, tossing his gun to the side as he pulls out the brass knuckles in his back pocket. 
“I told Solana I wouldn’t kill you until she gave me the word, and I’m not going to take that from her.” He crouches down besides the now crying older man, crying in the way Roman is certain Solana did when she was alone and helpless. His fury is practically bubbling over now as he coldly vows, “but that doesn't mean I can’t make your life a living fucking hell until then.”
________
Roman walks back into the house with a weight he can’t shake, even with the brutal carnage he unleashed on the Miller household, leaving father and son on the brink of death. That type of violent release typically abates his anger, and it did diminish a lot of it, seeing that piece of shit pummeled into a bloody, broken mess.
But Roman is still plagued with thoughts of the hell Solana endured living in that household. To be attacked in that way in her own home, in her fucking bedroom, it makes Roman want to get right back in his SUV and carry Xavier and his equally piece of shit over the doorstep of death.
But, he couldn’t do that to Solana, take that away from her. He’s just the executioner in this situation. He’ll let the day of reckoning be determined by her because that’s the least she can get. 
Coming straight back home, Roman didn’t bother to stop and get himself cleaned up. His guards have seen much worse, and Solana is asleep, so that’s not a concern either.
But, it is a concern because in an almost scene of deja vu, Solana is most certainly not asleep. She’s sitting on the sofa, Dulce right beside her when she hears his heavy footsteps. 
Roman doesn’t have time to say anything, too stunned by this happening yet again, even later than he’s returned before. 
Why is she up?
Solana jumps up off the sofa and is suddenly standing across from him, her face painted in what’s obviously a moderate to tremendous amount of worry and anxiety. 
But, she isn’t looking at him. Not really. She’s more so focused on the blood stained and splattered clothes that adorn him.
“You’re hurt…..” He’s heard her say it the last two times they were in this type of situation, eerily similar in a lot of ways, but this time….this time is different.
It’s different because she rushes over to him, her hand floating over his chest, one place, two place, another place. Like a plane trying to find a safe space to land, she’s unsure where he’s hurt and clearly overwhelmed by it all.
And then he sees it, the blurry overlay of water over her eyes and the slight tremble of her lip.
Roman steps towards her, trying to be respectful of the distance between them. Her discomfort with touch makes all the sense now. “Please don’t cry.” And this is yet another new, unfamiliar, unexposed territory for him, seeing her so distraught at her belief that he’s been hurt. The way that the thought alone clearly wrecks her.
Roman quickly notices the changing of her breathing pattern, heavier, rhythmic almost. 
“Shit…..”
Roman has heard this song before.
Realizing this is a matter of de-escalation, he does what’s needed in the moment and brings his hands to her face, cupping her face.
“Solana, breathe, baby.” The term of adoration isn’t even something that really registers with him at the moment, not an intentional addictive or something he gives two fucks about in this moment, really. He’s solely focused on settling the woman in front who’s on the brink of a panic attack.
He can’t see her deal with that again, especially now that he knows just why she had the first one.
Roman has no hesitation in pushing away loose strings of her hair, never once taking his focus off her. “I’m fine, Solana. I’m not hurt. It’s not my blood.” Recognizing she clearly needs to see it, he moves back to lift and toss his shirt on the floor. “See?”
And that seems to do something for her, something to help settle the panic. 
Roman watches her and forces himself not to think about the heat that fills him at her hand on his chest, over his heart. It’s all so innocent. Recognizing her breathing has settled into something less alarming and more familiar, he moves his hand over hers, reiterating once more, “I’m fine.” He waits for her to finish taking a deep breath to ask, “why are you up?”
This has to be the third time Roman has come home at an ungodly hour to find her waiting for him, and he’s trying to figure out what the real reason is. 
She licks her lip, clearly working her way up to a response. “Dulce had to…..had to use the bathroom, and I saw you weren’t here, and you didn’t answer my text.” Roman curses himself. He was so caught in his uproar that he didn’t even bother checking that thing, never expecting for Solana to be the missed notification on his lock screen. “I just…..I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Roman has heard this part before and tries to navigate how he wants to push back on his belief that it can’t be just that, but Solana surprisingly beats him to it. “I get….I get worried when you’re not here at night and—-and I can’t sleep until—-”
“Until I’m back….”
He has a good guess why. She was attacked in the middle of the night, and he’s also pretty certain he remembers reading that the attack that killed her mother also happened at night.
“Solana…..” For the first time in a while, if ever, Roman is active in his attempts to explain this to her as gently as he can. “What I do…who I am…I can’t always be here.”
“I know,” she sniffles. “I’m sorry—I don’t mean to bother you—”
“You could never bother me, okay?” He wipes away more of her tears, hand back to cupping her face, realizing she’s not going to pull away from him this time. He takes full advantage of that. Roman moves his other hand to the small of her back, holding her against him. It’s not missed upon him how she also brings her other free hand to his chest. “But, I always make it back, alright?” She nods, as he runs his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Can’t no man put me down.”
She smiles, a little laugh that does more to him than he’d like to admit, that he feels comfortable with. And this settles him. It settles him more than nearly killing her dad and brother for hurting her, directly and indirectly, did. 
Solana nods, murmuring a quiet, “o–okay.”
He’s studying her. Closely. Maybe more than what’s necessary. It comes from a place of concern, and he’d admit as such. “Are you good now?” 
She nods again, and he believes it enough to let her go, watching her start to walk away when he’s caught off guard again because of her body, so soft and warm, against his again. Her sweet perfume filling his senses, her arms around his neck.
She’s hugging him. Solana is actually hugging him. He can’t remember the last time someone did that shit.
But he doesn’t waste a second of time accepting her embrace that seems to end just as quickly as it began. He can’t be surprised or upset. This is big for her, obviously, and he would never push her past her comfort zone, but he also can’t deny that the absence of her in his arms is noticeable. 
And uncomfortable.
Solana murmurs a rushed goodnight and grabs Dulce to head back up the stairs, Roman eyes never leaving her until she’s completely out of view.
Roman stands there for a few good minutes, unsure of what just happened, working to process the same unfamiliar feelings that coursed through him the last time they had a moment like this. It’s the same as before, just ten times stronger, more intense, more consuming.
Unsure of a lot, two things he knows for asbolute fucking certain:
He’s going to find Solana’s rapists and make them pay for every sick fucking thing they did to her.
There’s not a fucking force on earth that could take this girl away from him.
She’s his.
And he’ll protect her with everything in him.
No matter what the cost.
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wcnderlnds · 2 months ago
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false hope | peter maximoff
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✧ fluff/angstober day four | false hope ✧
・❥・warnings: some swearing・❥・ authors note: this is bad bc my brain just did not want to work with me hence why its a short one. also shoutout to my best friend @xmidnight-rain for the idea because i was struggling.
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It was the way he carried your books to class for you, the way he offered you his jacket on cold nights, the way he always shot you a smile when you walked into a room. Those were just a few of the reasons why you were hopelessly in love with Peter Maximoff. From the very second you’d met him when you arrived at the school you’d been drawn to him. His friendly nature had pulled you in but it was his sweet, quirky personality that had made you stay. Everyday he’d always seek you out to tell you his latest joke or show you the newest thing he’d bought stole. Any compliment he threw your way made you blush, the butterflies in your stomach going into overdrive. There hadn’t been any other man that had ever made you feel this way.
You were almost certain he felt the same way, too.
Except…. he didn’t.
It was a normal day – like any other. Peter had asked you yesterday if you wanted to go out for food. With how he was flirting with you aand the big smile on his face, you'd figured it was a date. That was your first mistake. It had all been going well until Peter had leaned in and – being the complete fool that you were – you leaned in too thinking he was going for a kiss but nope. The second your lips touched his, he had speeded across the room with wide eyes.
“Wh-what… are you doing?” He asked, flustered.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry… I thought…”
“No! No, I mean… no.”
“Well, geez, thanks Peter,” you bit out sarcastically. His instant dismissal hurt.. Peter must have seen the look in your eyes because instantly he was back in front of you, his hands gently resting on the tops of your arms.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just…” He sighed. Words were never his strong suit so he had to think of how to phrase this without hurting you. “I don’t see you in that way. You’re my friend. My pal.”
Ouch. If your heart wasn’t hurting before then it definitely was now. All the signs had been there. How could you have read it so wrong? Were you really one of those people that thought someone being nice to you meant they liked you? You brushed his hands off you, taking a step back from him. There was no way you could be so close to him now that you’d made a fool of yourself.
“But… I thought…” Tears stung at your eyes. Were they from being upset or the utter humiliation you’d just suffered? “I thought you liked me too. You… always flirt with me and give me your jacket and… wow, I’m a fucking idiot.”
“No, hey, no you’re not. Maybe I gave off the wrong impression. I’m the idiot and I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you. That’s never been my intention. Your friendship means the world to me. I don’t have that many true friends, y’know? People who listen to me and actually want to be around me. I lead you on without realising it and I’m sorry,” he frowned, a hand running through his hair. “I should’ve been more clear.”
“Yeah.” Using the sleeve of your sweater, you wiped at your eyes. There was no way you were going to cry in front of him and make an even bigger fool of yourself. “I think I’m just gonna go now. I’ve humiliated myself enough.”
Peter made a move to grab your arm but thought better of it. He knew you needed time even if it hurt him to know that he’d hurt your feelings. So, he let you go to give you the space he knew you needed. 
tag list (ask to be added!): @juliamaximoff @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @xmidnight-rain @honeymoon8
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nickssidewitch · 7 days ago
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✨❤️ How the Sturniolo Triplets Flirt With a Crush 😻✨ (a Tarot Reading)
Chris 🧡
Very invested, will make sure to keep up with his crush almost every single day 😭
But he also overthinks A LOT during this stage, so he’ll ease back if he thinks he’s doing too much.
He’ll post little things on his socials so the person he’s flirting with can see them. It’ll be little subliminal messages and things of that nature.
But he’ll also overthink that as well, and will probably even make little clarifications to try not to make it seem like it’s directed at someone (even though it most definitely was).
My Gosh, this man worries so much when he flirts because he hopes the girl can pick up on it and if he’s not being super cringy or he’s not making her turned off.
If he can see that the girl is enjoying his flirting, he won’t worry as much, but she has to be super direct about it, otherwise he will literally die of overthinking 😭😭
He flirts the most via social media posts, but he also texts and does FaceTime calls a lot with the person he’s into. He’ll wanna text/call them late at night just so they can both catch up on each other’s days and just vent.
He will literally stay up for hours, laying on his stomach, feet dangling in the air like a giddy schoolgirl, staring down at his phone just to see if his girl will ever call him or text him. I’m exaggerating… but also I’m not.
He’s a great listener, so he doesn’t mind a rant or a trauma dump or two 😭
He will buy his girl things that remind him of her. Little trinkets like charms and stuffed animals. He’ll buy clothes and jewelry if he sees something he knows the girl will like.
He will pay for everything.
He definitely puts on a certain voice that he doesn’t even realize. (I can hear it in my head and it’s sexy as fuck. A bit raspy and low, a bit of a whisper). He even has a look on his face and will stare at you with that look 😭 He has no clue he does it though.
Lots of music. Lotsss.
If he feels that the flirting is not working though, he will be devastated.
Nick 💜
He actually prefers being flirted with. He likes being the center of someone’s affection. *debby ryan meme*
He will do obvious things to flirt with someone. And if the guy don’t pick up on it, that’s on him ✌🏾
He’s a gift giver and acts of service kind of guy when flirting. If the man doesn’t appreciate what he’s doing by actually acknowledging it, then he’ll be devastated and won’t give you the time of day anymore.
I think he knows what he wants, who he wants, when he wants it, and sometimes why. 😭
That can be a bit intimidating for some guys because they have this expectation of him being someone who will change themselves just to get their attention. But in reality, Nick is very confident in who he is and would never change himself for a man’s attention (unless it’s literally just him working out or drinking more water, etc.)
He’s asking his brothers about what guys do in certain situations (because usually it’s a bi or more masc guy he’s into). He’ll literally go to Chris or Matt with his phone, show a text and be like “oh my gosh what does this mean??”
He’ll definitely be touchy-feely with you, and that’s a big deal because he hates touching people and people touching him. So if he’s got his arm around you, then you’re the one for him!
Matt 💙
Super invested like his brothers.
People keep saying he’ll be dry which is very untrue. That man will always find a way to keep the person he’s flirting with entertained.
He wants them to laugh and actually find him funny, otherwise it won’t work and he knows it.
Humor is a way for him to figure out whether you’re actually listening to him and understand him and the way he thinks. So if you can’t pick up on his humor or don’t laugh at certain jokes he makes, you’re out.
He likes flowers and chocolates, but doesn’t mind jewelry and expensive things to bring his girl as well. And if she’s like “Oh, Matt, you shouldn’t have”, he’ll be like “Um, yes, I definitely should have, and I did!”
He’ll send risky texts or say risky things just to see the girl’s reaction to them. Nothing too crazy or frisky. Just something that can spark a reaction that can be a telltale sign of whether she’s into it or not.
These are the basics of it! Lmk if you guys liked this post!! 🥰
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fairy-writes · 4 months ago
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Hello!! I really like u and think ur really cool! Can I request an rivals to lovers with hoshina? Like you've been rivals ever since high school and noticed that you both become a part of the defense force at the same time and the rivalry grew stronger and then like you've heard the other officers talking bad things about him and then instantly defended him since you acknowledge him as someone who is strong and wouldn't let anyone bad mouth about him despite being rivals and then he heard it
once again i really really really love u and have this friend crush on u <33
ONE-SIDED CONFLICT
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Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
__________________________________________________________________________
Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8
Pairing(s): Hoshina Soshiro x Reader
Word Count: 0.9k
Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Rivals
Notes: Not my best work, but I don’t really know how to write Rivals to Lovers rip
I really hope you enjoy it, at least a little bit! Thanks for reading! <3
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Your rivalry with Hoshina Soshiro was more of a one-sided conflict. Well… that wasn’t explicitly true. He just got under your skin a lot more than you got under his. He always watched you with that shit-eating grin on his face, like he was watching something amusing. 
And that aggravated you. 
But… Nothing aggravated you more than people smack-talking him. 
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“Can you believe it?” 
“I can’t!”
“Why would they bother letting someone with blades be a Vice-Captain?”
“I’ll bet you 1000 yen that he bribed his way to that position.”
You clench your hand around your coffee mug until it nearly cracks as you hear your fellow members of the Third Division talking about the newest Vice-Captain.
Hoshina Soshiro.
The very name gets your blood boiling and your heart racing. You were both blade users in the Defense Force. Perhaps some of the only ones. You were the only ones to primarily use blades. Sure, you could use guns and heavy artillery if the situation called for it. But there was something about slicing through kaiju flesh that gave you a certain thrill. 
It also didn’t help that you and Hoshina had some sort of ‘rivalry’ going on. It wasn’t outright declared, but seeing as you two came from different clans that specialized in kaiju slaying, the odds were pitted against you from the start. 
It was always, “Look at what Hoshina Soshiro accomplished!” and never, “Good job at rising through the ranks!” So perhaps that contributed to your upbringing and the need to take him down. But even so, you could acknowledge his skill and prowess with the katana and even more so with slaying kaiju. 
Which is why it made you so angry to see other people try to tear him down. 
Your coffee mug actually cracked when you flexed your fingers and started leaking said coffee all over the table. But you paid it no mind.
“Don’t you have better things to do?” You snap at your teammates, and they look at you dumbly. Almost like they can’t believe someone is standing up for Vice-Captain Hoshina. 
He was just that, your Vice-Captain. 
They should respect him. 
“I’m sorry?” One of your teammates asks incredulously, and you roll your eyes.
“He obviously earned that position. So you should respect that. He wouldn’t be our Vice-Captain if he wasn’t qualified!” 
“Perfectly said, Platoon Leader.” You flinch, duck your head out of reflex, and turn to see the man you had been talking about. 
Hoshina Soshiro is watching you with that same shit-eating grin he always has on his face. He studies you with a calm expression. As if he didn’t care about what others were saying. And maybe he didn’t. But you certainly did. 
Everyone turns back to their meals with quiet grumbles, but no one says what they had been saying to his face. He jerks his head to the side for you to follow him. So, you begrudgingly get up and follow after, leaving your cracked coffee mug and spill behind. 
You follow your new Vice-Captain down the hall until you reach his new office. He leaves the door cracked open to give you an escape. That was the peculiar thing about him. He always gave you an escape from whatever you were doing. Whether that was sparring with him or studying together, he always gave you an out. 
Hoshina claimed it was to preserve your dignity when he whooped your ass in whatever competition you competed in. But, more often than not, you didn’t need an out. 
Because most competitions ended in draws between the two of you. 
“Vice-Captain?” You ask, mildly confused when he comes to a stop before the large windows behind his desk that overlook the Third Division base. Captain Ashiro’s is a floor above his, but his office is still impressive in its own right. 
“Y’know, fightin’ with your fellow teammates isn’t the best idea.” He said, and you huffed,
“It was hardly a fight.” You grumble, and he turns, his eyebrow arched and a look on his face that screams, “Really?”.
“We both know that infamous temper of yours would’ve gotten you into more trouble than was worth.” He borderline teased, and you can feel your ears burn with embarrassment. 
He knew you well. That was one of the downsides of being rivals with him since high school. He knew all your tricks and tics just like you knew his. 
“If I may, Vice-Captain—”
“Soshiro.” He cuts you off, and you stare stupidly, almost not comprehending the words that just came out of his mouth. But you gather yourself and push on, 
“Fine, Soshiro. If I may, they shouldn’t be talking about you like that, regardless of how you feel. You’re pretty incredible with a blade, and they should respect that.” 
Hoshina—no, Soshiro—stares at you almost as stupidly as you felt, eyes cracked open slightly in shock. 
Then he begins to laugh. 
And laugh. 
And laugh. 
“I think that’s the nicest you’ve ever been to me!” He wheezes, wiping a tear from his eye as he composes himself and leans his hands on his desk. Your ears and face burn, and you very nearly accept defeat and make your escape when he approaches you from around his desk. 
He stops just before you, staring you in the eye with that same stupid grin on his face. 
“How about we meet outside work, and you can tell me how incredible I am?” He teases, and you just nod idiotically. Captain Ashiro knocks on his office door and enters, saying something about the reports she needed for the latest meeting. You are then dismissed. 
You stop outside his office and lean on the wall, cupping your burning cheeks. 
Did you just agree to a date?
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loveharlow · 5 months ago
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SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 004
PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[8.1k] A certain pogue is out of jail which means a certain handful of Kooks should be going in, unless they found some way out of it...
WARNING(S)‧₊˚ death, strained friendship, tw! topper, mentions of drowning
NOW PLAYING‧₊˚
A/N‧₊˚ A lil TR x Sarah bonding until it all goes to shit of course, BUT A LOT OF GOOD THINGS HAPPEN NEXT CHAPTER! Sorry for the angst streak :/ also, the scene between TR and JJ is loosely based on this scene between Brooke and Lucas from One Tree Hill.
˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗
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THE SOUND OF CHICKENS CLUCKING AND KIARA PLUCKING THE STRINGS ON HER UKELELE SOUNDED IN THE QUIET OF THE YARD. The four of you — you, JJ, Kiara, and Pope, were in the surf shack at The Chateau. It was early in the morning.
JJ was waxing his board as Kiara played her instrument, you and Pope standing idly by. You were starting to get worried. It’d been almost twelve hours since your confrontation with Shoupe and nothing seems to have changed. You hoped it wasn’t all for nothing. 
But another question was on your tongue…
“...Has anyone seen Sarah?” You asked, eyes squinting from the sunlight. Everyone looked at each other for a brief moment until Kiara broke the silence.
“Last thing she said was that she was going to meet Wheezie.” You hummed at her words.
You and Kie hadn’t spoken nor looked one another in the eye since last night, so it was safe to assume you weren’t the best of friends right now. To be honest, you haven’t been for a while. It was just so weird. There was a time you considered her one of your best friends. But now you couldn’t even face each other without some kind of cat fight ensuing. And you feared these disputes might go from verbal to physical if the pressure reached that point…
“That’s a lot of wax on your board.” Pope spoke, interrupting JJ as he waxed his surfboard. The blonde paused in his movements, side eyeing his friend. “If you put too much, it’s gonna be slippery.”
“...Are you tellin’ me how to wax my board, Pope?” JJ asked, standing up straight.
“I’m just saying, that’s a lot of wax-”
“No no no, you’re tellin’ me how to wax my board. Are you kidding me?”
“I’m just saying that’s a colossal waste of wax.” Pope shrugged sassily, turning away from the blonde.
“Guys,” Kiara butted in, looking between the two. “Really? Can you go two minutes without-” A car horn cut off the tail end of her sentence. The sound making all of you freeze. That was a very distinct horn. A horn that only belonged to a certain vehicle. A certain vehicle that belonged to a certain boy.
None of you said anything else, almost all completely still and waiting to hear it again. When the sound came again, you were the first to turn and run towards it. You rounded the corner of the surf shack just in time to see the Twinkie kicking up dust in front of The Chateau, a dearly missed brunette behind the wheel.
“No fucking way!” You exclaimed breathlessly as you ran towards the vehicle, almost tripping over your own feet. “Jombee!”
“Guess who’s out of the clink?!” He smiled, hopping out of the passenger seat. You knocked the wind out of the boy when you threw yourself into him, squeezing him as tightly as you could. He returned the gesture in full, the both of you laughing into each other’s shoulders as the others approached.
“Are you kidding me?!”
“Am I dreaming?”
“My boy’s out of the can!” They all joined in on the hug when they got close enough, the five of you piled in on each other. You weren’t sure if what you said worked or it was by the grace of some other miracle that John B was here right now but you didn’t care.
“How’d you do it?” JJ asked as you all pulled back from the hug, forming a circle. “You bust out?”
“No, actually,” John B said matter of factly. “They dropped the charges.” Just then, three of them turned to you with knowing smiles on their faces, John B following their gazes like a lost child. “What?”
“It worked.” Pope told him simply.
“What? What worked?”
“Our little pogue princess here used her magic to get your ass out of jail, Bree.” JJ celebrated, nudging your shoulder playfully as a small smile grew on your face.
“How the hell did you manage that?” John B asked, scoffing gratefully.
“It was nothing…” You waved off. “I just put some pieces together, that’s all.”
“Uh, it was not nothing.” JJ assured. “She went straight up Criminal Minds on Shoupe and his league of badge-wielding sissies. Had a folder and everything-”
“...Wait,” John B cut in, the smile gone from his face. “Where’s Sarah?” The four of you looked to each other, shoulder's square and tense.
“...She went to go meet Wheezie last night.” Kiara told the boy, shoving her hands in her back pockets. “She didn’t come back.”
“SO, SARAH JUST DIPS AND DOESN’T CALL?” John B theoreticized, the only one standing on the boat. The five of you were lounging in the HMS Pogue that’d been stationery in the water behind The Chateau. John B was kind of dampening the mood with a Sarah question every five minutes but you all gave him the benefit of the doubt. 
“I don’t think we should jump to conclusions. I mean, I don’t think she would just leave. No offense but, where would she even go?” Kiara threw out, leaning against the inside of the boat next to John B’s legs.
“But, I mean also, she left her bag.” Pope added, you weren’t sure how that helped the conversation.
John B just sighed, planting his hands atop his head. “I really think Ward got to her.” He offered a possible theory. “I mean, he tried to have me killed in jail.”
You turned around so fast, you feared you almost gave yourself whiplash. “He what?”
“Yeah. He sent somebody to the prison who...yoked me up and almost killed me.” 
“Do we know who this dude was?” JJ asked. Judging by his tone, he had an idea in mind and he most likely could go through with it if he truly wanted. Between the inmates who didn’t approve of crimes against children and JJ’s connections in the jail from his dad, he could honestly probably set something up with just a name and a dirty cop.
“No, I have no idea.” John B shook his head. “Dude, I swear to God, one day I’m gonna kill that son of bitch.” He threatened mindlessly, finally taking a seat inside the boat.
“It’s okay.” Kiara tried to comfort.
“No, Kie, it’s not okay.” He snapped. “We gotta find Sarah.”
“No, literally, it’s okay.” Kiara said once more, pointing behind the distressed brunette. “She’s right there.”
The four of you turned to see Sarah…sitting in Topper’s boat. 
As Topper drove.
At the sight of John B, the blonde girl stood up. “...John B?” Her small voice traveled across the water, Topper’s boat getting closer and closer. She shouted John B’s name happily, the boy simply looking away from her. Seeing your girlfriend on her ex’s boat the morning you get out of jail can’t be the best ‘Welcome Home’ surprise.
The four of you cringed, Sarah clearly not registering the picture that was being painted.
“Oh, poor Sarah.” You muttered under your breath, mainly to yourself. “Sometimes, I forget that you are indeed a blonde, teenage girl.”
“What the hell is she doing with Topper?” Kiara asked, loud enough for the four of you only to hear. Everyone shot small smiles at the blonde girl, confused about who she’d arrived with but glad that she was safe nonetheless. Topper slowed his boat next to The Pogue, allowing Sarah to cross over as he and John B exchanged awkward glances.
“My God, this is weird…” You mumbled, clearly not quietly enough considering Pope nudged your shoulder in warning. “Wh-Am I wrong?”
Sarah threw herself into John B, the boy returning the gesture wholeheartedly but you could tell he was still a little thrown off. “I though I’d never see you again.” Sarah told him, voice muffled into his shoulder before she pulled back to look him in his eyes. “What happened?”
“They dropped all the charges.” John B smiled at his girlfriend.
“What?” Sarah breathed out, a bright smile on her face.
“Yeah, I’m a free man.” John B said smugly, leaning one arm on the boat’s windshield. 
“That’s amazing!” Sarah exclaimed, pulling the boy into her one more time. The look of heartbreak on Topper’s face was clear as day. Anyone could tell that he was still in love with her. You might’ve even felt bad if he wasn’t such an asshole.
“I know, it’s great, but listen, Sarah,” John B calmed her down, pushing her back by her arms to look at her. “They’re coming after Rafe.”
“...Good,” She said, surprising you all. Her eyes fleeted to you for a brief moment. “He’s completely unhinged. He jumped me last night.”
“What?” You all said simultaneously, eyes going wide as your attention went to Sarah.
“That’s why I didn’t come back.” 
“Yeah, man. Rafe has lost his mind.” Topper butted in, leaning against the structure of his own boat. “Literally almost drowned his own sister.” You rolled your eyes. Topper has known how unhinged Rafe was all along. He and Kelce always stood by like bodyguards when Rafe would treat you like shit towards the end of your “relationship” with him — he’d grab you by your neck in front of them, pull your hair, call you a bitch, tell you to shut up. But they didn’t care. Or at least they didn’t care enough to say anything about the way Rafe manhandled you or the people around him. But now that Topper had a chance to be Sarah’s knight in shining armor, there was no way he was going to pass it up. “Thankfully I got there just in time.” He said, and you swore you saw the hint of a sly smile on his face.
John B turned away from the blonde on the other boat, tongue prodding against his cheek. “Well, I guess I owe you one, Topper, don’t I?” He asked, voice short.
He simply scoffed in response, shrugging nonchalantly. “...’s all good. I mean, somebody had to rescue your girlfriend, right?”
“Oookay,” You jumped in. “I think it’s time for you to go, Topper, don’t you agree?-” You tried before John B jumped in.
“That’s funny because she’s not actually my girlfriend, right?” He directed the question more at Sarah than Topper, the girl tucking her hair behind her ear and laughing nervously.
“What is she, then?” Topper asked, chuckling. 
John B threw a hand out in Sarah’s direction. “Tell him.” He had a sure smile on his face, like he knew Sarah would say what he wanted her to. But it quickly dropped following her words.
“I…I’m with him.” She looked almost unsure of what she was saying. Like she didn't want to say it.
The four of you not involved in this love triangle cringed silently, all looking in different directions as your faces twisted while Topper basically wheezed. “Gotcha. You’re with him. Yeah, okay.” He taunted, looking to the four of you. “You guys clear on that?”
“I think it’s clear you gotta go now.” JJ warned, looking up at the preppy blonde.
“Yeah, I think it’s about that time.” He agreed simply as Sarah called out to him.
“Topper.” She said, leaving John B’s side to get closer to Topper’s boat. “Thank you.” She said gratefully, pulling the boy into a gentle hug.
Topper returned the gesture. “Yeah, of course.” He said softly, hand rubbing up and down her back gently. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He assured, and none of you missed the glare he shot John B behind Sarah’s back before she pulled away, letting Topper speed off.
YOU WERE STRETCHED OUT ON THE COUCH IN THE CHATEAU, TOSSING A BALL UP INTO THE AIR. John B and Sarah were outside on the hammock, the conversation they were having didn't look too pleasant. Kiara and Pope were talking in the Surf Shack, no telling whether they were cuddling or Kie was pushing him away. You were deep into thought when the door swung open, a chipper blonde waltzing in, humming some random tune under his breath as he went over into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
You looked at his frame in your peripheral before rolling your eyes and sighing, resuming your train of thought. 
“...Y’know, you are really just take the passive part out of being passive-aggressive, y’know that, right?” He spoke across the room, closing the fridge and leaning against it, a beer can in his hand.
“Sorry. I guess liars just bring out the worst in me.” You muttered, voice full of attitude.
“How can I lie about something I have no idea about? Kind of hard to understand why you're so mad at me if you don't say anything.” JJ scoffed, taking small steps towards you. 
At this you scoffed and rolled your eyes once more, sitting up on the couch and leaning your weight one arm, the ball clutched in your other hand. “Are you really just never going to say anything about it?”
“Say anything about what?"
"I mean, at first, I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Like maybe it wasn't what it seemed but it's been days-"
You’ve been talking in riddles for days-”
“You kissed Kie.”
“...What?” He recoiled at the statement, standing up straighter. “No, I didn’t-”
“Yes, you did.” You interrupted, swinging your legs off of the couch and leaning your arms on your thighs. “In Charleston. At the gas station.” 
He seemed to ponder on it for a moment before he found it — his eyes going wide and his jaw going slack before he stuttered to find words. “Th- that is not what happened. Is that what she told you?”
“She didn’t tell me anything. Neither of you did because you’re both liars and shitty friends.” You spat, standing from your seat and walking out of the door, hearing his heavy boots follow behind you as the screen door hit the wall. “Maybe this is a sign. Because clearly, you’re both made for each other. Do all liars and backstabbers have a moral code? Birds of a feather, y'know-”
“Can you let me explain?” He breathed out, his footsteps barrelling down the wooden steps and you walked through the dirt and gravel. You didn’t know where you were going or if you were going anywhere at all. It just felt right to walk away.
“You could’ve explained days ago.”
“Look,” He tried, gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks and turn you around. “Just listen to me, please. I understand what it may have looked like and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you but I meant everything I said to you. That kiss you saw? Didn’t mean anything.” 
“A kiss always means something.” You rasped, snatching your arm away and looking him in his eyes. Really in his eyes, for probably the first time in days. 
“Okay, maybe you’re right but it didn’t mean anything to me. I didn't initiate it or like it or anything. I can’t speak for Kie but I can speak for me and the kiss. meant. nothing. And you would know that if you had-”
“If I had what?” You cut him off. “If I had said something? As you so sweetly pointed out, I didn't say anything, did I? I’m so sorry if the sight of you and Kie playing tongue hockey while Pope and I are less than ten feet away caught me off guard so badly that I couldn't say anything when it happened.”
“And I get that, I do. But you aren’t listening-” He tried to calm you, planting both of his hands on your shoulders before being harshly shrugged off.
“Stop that.”
“...Look, Kie kissed me. We were talking and then she kissed me and I pushed her away. The kiss didn’t last more than five seconds and I didn’t kiss her back. I told her I didn’t like her that way, I don't like her that way, and that I wouldn’t do that to Pope or you, ever. I even told her about what me and you have going on. I promise you.” He reassured. “And to be completely honest with you, would it even matter if I did? I mean, we aren’t together. You said you needed time to figure out your feelings. You said that you didn’t want me to wait on you to figure out your feelings. You said that.”
At his comment, you stood in shock. A silent ‘wow’ leaving your lips as you looked around at nothing. “And you know what, JJ? I loved you for that. You were so patient and understand in that moment that I fell in love with you in a such a way that I couldn't just call you my friend anymore. And I can’t believe that you use what I said now and twist it into something else. You know that’s not what happened. I told you I didn’t want you to wait on me to figure out my feelings if that’s not what you want, that part is true. But what about when you told me that you would and that it was your choice? That you’d be there when I was ready?” You reprimanded, scolded. “And when I told you that if you did kiss someone else or hook up with someone else, I just wanted you to tell me and not let me find out from someone else. And you told me that there would be nothing to tell and nothing to find out because you were “all mine”. Or did all of that just coincidentally slip your mind?”
“It didn’t. I just…” JJ sighed, running a hand down his face. “I need you to trust me and believe me when I tell you that my heart is with you. It always has been and it always will be.” He told, eyes boring into yours, pleading. “...But a part of me feels like when all of your grief is gone and you feel better about everything. About your mom, your dad, everything. You won’t...need me anymore and you’ll try to push me away because maybe then you’ll realize that you don’t really feel that way about me. You just thought you did because…because I was there for you when you needed me to be.”
“Oh.” You scoffed, eyebrows raising. “You kiss someone else, one of our friends, and I’m the one who’s feelings are being doubted?”
JJ just sighed, stepping impossibly closer to you. One of his hands reached out to caress your face, this time you let him. “...I love you.” He said softly. “I don’t know how else to say it.”
“How about how you show it?” You whined, eyes getting teary and voice wavering. You gently grasped his hand, dragging it away from where it was cradling your face. “I am not using you to make myself feel better, JJ. What I feel for you is not a product of my grief or fucked up life or because you were there for me at just the right time. And maybe I needed the time to realize that before but I know it, now. I am sure that I love you but now I need you to be sure that you love me back. Okay, so why wouldn’t you just tell me about the kiss? If it didn’t mean anything, why didn’t you say anything?” You explained, two single tears running down your face.
Suddenly, JJ’s phone started to go off, notification after notification. You let go of his hand, using your own to wipe your tears, as he fished for his phone in his pocket.
“Shit.” He cursed under his breath, walking in the direction of the Surf Shack.
“What?” You asked, voice still off from crying and you followed behind him.
He rounded the corner to find Kie and Pope pulling apart from a hug, you could only wonder what they were talking about. You didn’t miss the way both of their eyes went between you and JJ. Between JJ’s red face and your tear stains, they probably had questions. You wouldn’t be surprised if they heard the heated conversation.
“Pope.” JJ started. “Just got a call from Guffy. Somethin’ happened to your pops.”
“LET ME KNOW IF I’M HURTING YOU, OKAY?” Sarah cooed, planting a bandage on Heyward’s hairline. By the time the six of you arrived, the older man was hunched over, beaten and bloodied. Not too badly but bad enough for someone like Heyward. 
“You’re doin’ just fine.” Heyward told Sarah, wincing as she fully secured the bandage and walked away. “Thank you, darlin’.”
“Pop,” Pope started, walking closer to his father. “What happened?”
“Oh, I should’ve known better.” Heyward started, lightly touching the bandage on his head. “He came in just as I was about to lock up. Caught me by surprise. Once he had me down, he put his knee in my chest,” You cringed at the thought. “...and he asked me about that…about that key. From that drawing you showed me. And in case you’re wondering,” The older man gaining his sass back as he spoke. “I ain’t tell him nothin’.” He told the group of you, a hand on his hip with his lips pursed before his eyes went back to his son. “Now did you track it down?”
Pope fished around in his back pocket, pulling out a slim, gold key with a red string attached. The five you surrounding the father and son had sly smirks on your faces.
“I found it in Mee-maw’s old apartment above the pharmacy, just like you said.”
“...Shit, boy, you should’ve gave this to me. I wouldn’t have had to take a beatin’.” He spoke, shocked by the sight of the key as he twirled it between his fingers. “What’s the big deal? It ain’t worth anythin'. Why they want it so bad?”
“I don’t know.” Pope shrugged along with the rest of you. “First, I get this letter telling me that I need to go to Charleston. And then I meet this rich lady who wants me to give her a key that I didn’t even know was in my family.” Pope explained enthusiastically. 
“Well, don’t y’all just sit here whinin’ about it.” Heyward scolded the group of you sporting long faces. “Figure it out.”
Pope’s face twisted at his father’s words as he shook his head. “No.” He said firmly. “I’m just gonna give the key to that lady. It’s not worth-”
“No, no, no, no, no, no…” Heyward interrupted. “Did I raise you to back down from a fight?” 
Pope shook his head. “...No, sir.”
“Well, all right.” Heyward nodded, admiration is his eyes. “Now, I didn’t think ‘bout it before. I admit that. But now…” He trailed off, eyes on the key in his hand before pointing to the injury on his head. “Now? I’m interested.” He smiled smugly. “Did they say why they wanted it?”
Pope drew his lips into a thin line. “Somethin’ about an old cross. I think it might be some kind of lost treasure.”
“You know who you should talk to?” Heyward suggested, leaning forward. “Your great-grandmother.”
JOHN B STOPPED THE VAN IN FRONT OF SHADY ACRES NURSING HOME. It was the next day, the group of you agreeing to put it off until then considering it was a little drive away. Pope was the first out of the van, Kiara following as JJ got out of the passenger seat.
“Hey, um…” Pope started, looking up at the building. “I think I’m actually gonna do this one by myself.” It seemed like a general statement but his eyes kept zoning in on key. 
“...You sure?” Kie asked, half-way out of the van doors.
“Yeah.” Pope shrugged. “I can handle it, I don’t really need you, so…” The clear attitude in his voice had you and Sarah, who were still seated, cringing in the van, looking anywhere but at the two. You figured whatever they talked about in the shed wasn't as good as it seemed. Maybe that wasn't a happy hug...
“Oh, we’re just all one big happy family today, aren’t we?” JJ joked, trying to lighten the mood. Now that he mentioned it, it did seem like all the “couples” in the group were off. Even John B and Sarah hadn’t talked since yesterday afternoon or all this morning.
Pope simply looked at the blonde before walking off, a gloomy expression on his face. John B restarted the van, ready to drive off while Pope did his task.
“OF COURSE I THANKED TOPPER.” Sarah whispered as you, her, and Kie walked back towards the van slowly. John B had made a pit-stop at a burger place where you, Sarah, and Kie went to get milkshakes. John B and JJ were inside the vehicle, it looked like they were having a hushed conversation of their own. “He saved my life, and I’d put him through so much already.” She added, sipping on her milkshake as you did the same, Kie nodding. “And you’d think that that is the crime of the century.”
“Tell me about it.” Kiara said. “All of this crazy shit’s happening, and Pope is giving me the silent treatment for not being in love with him.”
You gulped down the rest of you shake at her words. “I think it’s more so due to the fact that you led him on as if you were in love with him, but hey,” You butted in bluntly, sending a tight-lipped smile Kiara’s way. “What do I know?”
“People can’t control their feelings. You can’t force yourself to…love someone who you just don’t.”
“No,” You dragged out. “But people can control how they interact with those people. Kissing someone, sleeping with someone? That doesn’t exactly scream ‘I’m not in love with you’.”
“What the hell is your problem?” Kie stopped walking, turning to you. “You don’t speak to me for days and then when you do it’s the same passive-aggressive bullshit? I mean, seriously, what’s your deal?”
You stopped in your own tracks from where you had taken a few steps forward, turning to face the girl while still sipping your milkshake. “Does Pope know?”
Kie rolled her eyes and threw her hands out, Sarah watching intently. “Does Pope know what?”
“That you kissed JJ.” You said bluntly, eyes staring into hers.
"Wh-*cough*-What?!" Sarah's eyes went wide as she choked on her milkshake.
“‘Cause if he doesn’t and he’s already pushing you away like this? I can’t imagine how much he’ll hate you when he finds out.” You shrugged.
“...If.” Kiara corrected, shifting her. “If he finds out.”
You pursed your lips, looking up at the sky as you pretended to think while you shook your head. “When.” You corrected her correction before turning on your heel and walking towards the van. 
“I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE RELATED TO DENMARK TANNY.” John B exclaimed. You’d all returned to The Marina just as it had started to drizzle where Pope explained how his grandmother told him all about how Denmark Tanny and his wife, Cecilia, were Pope’s ancestors. “Are we in the presence of a royal?” John B teased, the six of you camped up under a roof of one of the shops.
“A king? We shall crown him.” JJ joked alongside JB, planting an imaginary crown on Pope’s head. “All hail the Lord of Tannyhill. We are not worthy!” He continued, the rest of you joining in on the chant before Pope stopped you all with a chuckle.
“Everybody relax. Can we relax, please?” He requested, the laughter fading lightly before his face faded into something more serious. “...I just keep thinking about the letter. The one Limbrey sent? It had the wheat symbol on it.” He pointed out. “That must mean it had something to do with the Royal Merchant.”
“Yeah. Somethin’ seems fishy…” JJ threw in.
“But if we find that cross, we can split it like we were gonna split the gold.” Pope continued, gleefully.
“And live happily ever after?” An uninvited voice rang out, the group of you turning to find none other than Carla Limbrey and her live-in bodyguard approaching. You all straightened, the expression on your faces going hard.
“You assaulted my father.” Pope was the first to speak, his lips curled in anger as he took steps towards the woman only to be pushed back by her accomplice. 
“Oh, I didn’t assault anybody.”
“He can identify the psycho from a mile away.” Kie assured, Carla turning to her.
“Why would my employee…” She trailed off, turning back to Pope. “Assault your father? That's absurd.” She laughed, like the whole ordeal was humorous. “Listen,” She started, limping towards Pope. “We can keep on negotiating but the fact is, I want the key.” She explained, her employee pushing Pope up against a support beam causing you all to jump up.
“Hey!” JJ shouted, being the closest to Pope.
“And I won’t stop until I have it. I don’t have a choice, which means you don’t either.” She spoke solely to Pope. She stared at him intensely, her gaze never wavering.
“It’s Limbrey, right?” You piped up, her eyes turning to you as you leaned against the wooden railing of the dock, swinging the gold key around your finger. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
“...Yes, it is.” She said, her voice straining as she walked towards you slowly. 
“Looking at the tide right, I’d say it’s about…” You taunted, dangling the object dangerously over the water as you peaked at the waves then back at her. “Twenty feet deep out there? So, if I just threw it in the channel, the probability of you finding it again is slim to none.” You explained, sitting up straighter and extending your arm completely over the rail. “Wanna give it a shot?” You taunted, letting the key slip from your fingers.
“No! Hey!” Limbrey lunged forward, nearly tripping over her feet. She let out a sigh of relief when you swiftly caught key in your hand again before it even had the chance to really fall. “...Please don’t do that.” She pleaded. 
You could feel your eyes narrow as you relaxed against the rail again, the key fisted in your palm as you threw one arm out in the direction of her employee. “Get him to back the hell up.”
“...Back up.” She ordered, turning towards the man as he walked away from Pope, looking you up and down. Carla was quick to stand back in front of Pope once more, talking to him. “As I have told you from the beginning, I am willing to be reasonable.”
Pope eyes drifted towards you, probably catching on to the fact that the key you were torturing Limbrey with was fake, considering you were sure he had the real one on him. You nodded towards the boy, winking at him.
“...Okay.” He said, eyes back on Carla.
“Okay?” She seemed surprised at his cooperation.
“I’ll give you the key.” He told her, standing up straighter. “But I want the tape.”
“Of course-” Limbrey was quick to agree, but you felt like her employee was getting suspicious with the way he was eyeing you.
“Hey, Pope,” You stepped in, walking towards your friend. “You don’t have to do this, okay?” You told him, but your head was nodding slightly so he would catch your drift. Giving the key up to easily would only seem suspicious now. There had to be some kind of resistance on his end.
“No, it’s okay.”
“No, Pope, this is your family.”
“It’s fine. It’s okay…” Pope assured, putting his hand out for you to give him the key. “This is about your dads.” He added, eyes fleeting between you and John B. “That’s way more important.”
“Oh, you’re a good friend.” Limbrey sighed as you planted the key in Pope’s palm. 
“The tape?” Pope turned back to her, eyes never leaving hers. 
“Yes, give him the tape.” She ordered the man she brought with her, watching as he pulled a red tape recorder from inside of his jacket, handing it slowly to Pope. He didn’t hand Limbrey the key until the player was in his hand. “You know…” She started again, leaning into him. “I wish that you’d come to this decision earlier. We could’ve avoided all this unpleasantness.” She said before turning and walking off, her employee following behind but not before turning around with a smug smile on his face.
“It was nice seein’ ya, Pope.”
“Walk away before I beat your ass with her cane.” You told him bluntly, him offering the six of you one last grin before strutting off. You watched the pair leave, standing next to John B as a smile grew on your face. “How long do you think we have until she realizes she has your father’s old key?”
“Ten minutes.” He replied. 
Just then, Pope turned around with both of his arms out, a small relieved smile on his face. “Whose idea was the fake key?”
You and John B turned your attention to JJ who was trying to conceal the smile on his face. “Hmm, I don’t know. Should we tell him?” John B teased, throwing an arm around JJ’s shoulders.
“Did hell freeze over?” Pope asked, astounded.
“I’m impressed.” Kiara said. “Maybe you are good for something.”
“Even a blind pig can find an acorn at times.” JJ joked as Pope and JB tickled him, poking his ribs and ruffling his hair. 
“We gotta take this tape to Shoupe.” John B smiled, juggling the object in his hand as the released the blonde.
“Yes sir.” JJ jumped up. “Ward Cameron we’re comin’ for you, big boy!”
You didn’t miss the look of despondence on Sarah’s face. It was the visual epitome of being stuck between a rock and hard place. You knew what it was like to know someone’s a bad person but still feel obligated to love them. You seemed so easily detached from your mother that you never stopped to consider that maybe Sarah was having a hard time doing the same with her father.
“WHEN I GOT DOWN TO THE TARMAC, I SAW THE SHERIFF LYING DEAD ON THE GROUND.” Gavin’s voice came from the tape recorder planted on Shoupe’s desk. John B had requested that you go in with him to give the evidence to Shoupe while the others waited, considering you had cleared his name in the first place, he figured your help could do no harm. “And then Ward asked me to fly the gold to Nassau and dispose of the gun. He’s protecting his son.” The former pilot explained, Shoupe’s eyes drifting upwards to stare at you and John B. “It was Rafe Cameron who killed Sheriff Peterkin. I gotta be honest with you…I’m terrified. If anything happens to me, I’m telling you, it was Ward Cameron.”
John B looked up at Shoupe and the FBI Agent standing behind him, a deadpan look on his face. “I told you Shoupe…” He started, shaking his head slightly. “Ward killed both of our fathers and Gavin, and now you know Rafe killed Peterkin.”
Shoupe just licked his lips and nodded, taking a quick glance at the agent behind him. “...I know, kid. I know.”
Your brows furrowed at this. During your last conversation with Shoupe, right after you’d told him to drop the charges and right before you left his office, he left you with a few last words...
“I don’t know if I believe all of this, kid. And I can’t promise that this enough to get your friend out and put Ward behind bars. Maybe one or the other…but not both.”
Leaning forward in your seat, you gained Shoupe’s attention as his eyes turned to you. “What does that mean? ‘Cause last time I was here you said that the outcome we have right now was nearly impossible.”
The man just sighed, slowly rising from his chair as it rolled against the floor. He put both of his hands on his belt and cleared his throat. “We’ve issued arrest warrants for both Ward and Rafe…as well as your mother and any department employees involved. Rafe is currently in custody, the other warrants are being carried out as we speak. I can’t give ya anymore than that.”
“LLLLADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WARD CAMERON, KING OF THE KOOKS, IS GOING TO JAIL!” JJ’s voice boomed from the inside of The Chateau. The guys were inside celebrating Ward’s takedown as you rounded the corner of the porch, finding a solemn Sarah sitting criss-cross on the patio furniture with Kiara right across from her, giggling at the guys antics.
You sat the opposite side of the blonde girl just Kiara looked to her, the brown-haired girl’s face falling at Sarah’s expression.
“...Do you regret it?”
Sarah was quick to reply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No.” She stated firmly, biting the inside of her cheek. “He deserves all of it, and I know that. It’s just…” She cut herself off with a teary sigh, her voice returning with a quiver to it as her eyes filled with tears. “He’s still my dad. I can’t just pretend like he’s not.”
“No, I get it.” Kiara tried to comfort, scooting closer and planting a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I understand-”
“But you don’t, Kie.” Sarah blurted, a tear falling from her eye as her nose and cheeks took on a shade of red. “I know you’re trying to help but you just don’t get it...” She said, rising from her seat and swiftly walking off into the direction of the backyard and out into the rain. 
You didn’t know if it was weird of you to go after her, considering Sarah and Kie were closer but you figured after Kiara sat there with no intention of getting up that it was okay to do so. Getting up from your seat and walking off to follow Sarah, you stepped out into the drizzling rain, going towards her figure that was stood at the edge of the tall grass on the shore of The Marsh, her arms hugging herself as she looked out at the water.
As you got closer and stood next to her, you could hear small sniffles leaving her nose. Maybe she didn’t regret helping turn her dad in but it was clear as day to anyone that she was upset.
“I know I’m probably not the person you want to talk to…” You spoke up after a few moments of silence, Sarah looking at you briefly. “But I think I’m the only person who can relate to how you’re feeling, right now.”
“You don’t have to come out here in the rain to make me feel better.” She sighed, fully turning to you now, damp strands of hair sticking to her cheeks. “Especially after everything I’ve put you through.”
“Sarah, I already told you that I forgive you-”
“But why?” She cried, swinging her arms out to her sides. “It would be one thing if I didn’t believe you but I made your life a living hell and I didn’t even like my brother then. How can you just forgive me so…so easily?”
“Because it wasn’t your fault.” You told her, moving your own pieces of damp hair out of your vision. “I know that right now you probably think you’re no better than them, your dad and brother. But you are not responsible for the bad things that they did to other people. Yes, you made my life hell and maybe I’ll always hold that small grudge against you. But you didn’t kill Peterkin, and you didn’t kill my dad, or Big John, or Gavin.” You explained. “And unlike them, Sarah, you owned up to your mistakes. You apologized to me and Kiara and you’ve become a better person for it.”
“..But why do I feel bad for still loving him?” She whined, tears falling faster now. “I tore myself away from Rafe after he tried to drown me but my dad…he’s still my dad. And I know he’s done bad things, really bad things, and I will never forgive him but for some reason, going against him puts this pit in my stomach that I can’t get rid of because ...he’s my dad.”
“But that’s the thing, Sarah,” You began, stepping closer to her. “He’s not your dad anymore.” You told her, putting a hand on her upper arm gently. “The way I think of it? He’s just a shell of the man you used to know. Like with my mom — I know it seems like I’m okay and that I hate her and that’s that, right? But that’s not true. I miss my mom. So much. But not the mom that being hunted down by the police right now.” You explained, your own voice wavering. “I miss the mom that would listen to my shitty guitar playing after my dad taught me chords and convinced me I was the greatest in the world. I miss the mom that would make cookies with me in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. The mom I miss would never do the things that the woman I know now has done. Any of it. And I know it’s a hard thing, to separate who you grew up with and who you’ve come to know but Ward isn’t the father you knew, Sarah. He’s the monster you know now.”
Sarah just sniffled and nodded, processing your words as she wiped the tears and rainwater from her face.
“...And as for that grudge?” You started, a small smile on your face. “Maybe I’d be more inclined to let it go if you helped me out with something. Just a small little side quest…” You shrugged cutely as her brows pinched together. “Got any clue where Rafe would hide a stolen dog at Tannyhill?”
You managed to get a small chuckle out of the girl before her phone started to ring, Sarah fishing the device out of her back pocket — Topper’s contact card bright on display as her eyes darted to yours.
“We might have to postpone that heist…” She said, answering the call. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Topper’s voice came through, his voice faint and distorted through the phone. “Sorry to be the, uh, bearer of bad news here but…they’re coming for your dad.” He told her, Sarah letting out a deep breath. “My grandpa just signed the warrant.” He explained. You forgot his grandfather was a judge. “So, if you have anything you want to say to him, I would do it now. Just wanted you know.”
“Thanks.” Sarah replied, voice small and weak as she stared at her sneakers. She removed the phone from her ear and ended the call, sighing deeply.
You shot her a tight-lipped smile, a look of pity. “I’ll get everyone and we’ll go with you.”
THE TWINKIE WAS GOING AS FAST IT COULD DOWN THE NARROW STREET WHEN THREE COP CARS SPED BY,  headed in the direction of Tannyhill.
“Shit…” Kie breathed, eyes trailing the speeding vehicle as she looked out of the window.
“Oh my God,” Sarh sighed, eyes wide as the severity of the situation set in. “Can we please hurry? I need to be there for Wheezie.”
“You think I wanna miss this?” John B said bluntly. Ouch. The statement and the way he said it even hurt you, so you weren’t surprised by the mean side-eye that Sarah gave him from the passenger seat. 
The four of you in the back exchanged glances. There was a lot going on and it was difficult to know what each of your worried looks were for — Sarah, John B, or Sarah and John B’s relationship.
It wasn’t long before the van pulled up right behind one of the parked cop cars outside of Tannyhill, right outside the concrete wall. You all nearly tripped over one another scrambling to exit the van before it even came to a full stop — the sound of police chatter, footsteps, and sirens in the distance. 
You all stood on your tiptoes, peering over the wall.
“Holy shit.”
“I can’t see, bro.”
None of you had a good view but you could see a small swarm of officers running towards the dock where Ward kept his boats while Rose stood helplessly by the door. 
“Screw it.” John B said out of nowhere. “I’m going over.” He warned before hurling himself over the wall, the five of you watching as he landed on the other side. You looked at each other before following his lead, landing in the grass.
You all jogged through the freshly cut grass, approaching the doors where Rose stood just in time to see Wheezie rushing out as Rose tried to stop her.
“What’s going on?” The young girl asked, eyes on the huddle of officers by the water. “Why are the police here?”
“Wheezie…” Sarah called her sister’s name in relief, walking faster in order to reach the girl and pull her into a hug.
“Why are the police here again?” Wheezie asked, her voice soft and curious. 
“Go inside,” Sarah told her, caressing the back of her head before pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Don’t come out.” Wheezie looked at her older sister with confusion and concern before nodding and turning to go back inside, a teary-eyed Rose guiding the girl back inside.
You couldn’t help but subconsciously notice that there was no sign of Marley — no paw prints, no food bowls, no leash, nothing. Not that he’d take that much care of her anyway. But it didn't look like a dog was being kept here. You felt bad for thinking about that at a time like this but if Rafe wasn’t holding her at Tannyhill, you could only think of one other place he’d take her, and if you were right then getting her back just became a whole lot more dangerous…
“Sarah,” Rose called before shutting the patio door, her voice scratchy. “Your father, he…he’s out on The Druther’s.” She told her, Sarah wasting no time in jogging in that direction before Rose could finish. “But I don’t think you should- Sarah!”
She tried to call her back but it was no use and the rest of you could do nothing more but follow Sarah out to the docks. Through the grass and over the wood, about six or so officers formed a line, effectively blocking the entrance as the group of you approached the scene.
“Dad!” Sarah cried, seeing her father’s figure on the third story of The Druther’s.
The officer’s attention turned to you all, holding their hands out to stop you all from going any further when Shoupe’s voice rang.
“That’s Sarah Cameron! Let her through!” He ordered, motioning you all through with one hand as the officers stepped to the side.
“What are you doing here, Sarah?!” Ward called tearfully from the top of his boat. He looked genuinely terrified. 
“Dad, what’re you doing?!” She called from the docks as you all walked behind her, forming a sort of line on the wooden surface, officers on each side.
“Vic, you gotta get her out of here!” Ward’s attention went to Shoupe, pleading with the man. “She can’t be here right now!” He was straining his voice so much, you would think he was about to die, not be arrested.
“Just come on in, and you can talk to her!” Shoupe tried to reason, throwing his arms out in Sarah’s direction, trying to find anyway for Ward to turn himself in.
“Sarah, I’m so sorry, baby,” He continued to cry, going inside of the cockpit for a moment. It looked like he was flipping switches which made the officers weary. “I can’t!” Suddenly, the anchor started to reel itself out of the water.
If they didn’t get any units in the water by now or anytime soon, you feared Ward would get away. Once again.
“What’re you doing?!” Sarah called, stepping closer to the edge of the dock. “Dad, no, no, no!”
“Ward!” Shoupe stepped in, applying more pressure. “This ain’t gonna end the way you want it to!” Your prayers were answered and Shoupe’s warning was proven when four police water units came cruising towards The Druther’s, lights and sirens on display. “You don’t need her seeing this!”
Sarah’s jaw couldn’t close as she eyed each of the approaching boats, one after the other. Anyone within five feet of the girl could hear her labored, stuttering breaths. Just then, Ward started to climb down to the second level of the boat, causing Sarah to cry out once more.
“Dad, don’t leave!” Her voice cracked, at a pitch so high you’d question if it was even her voice. “Where are you going?!”
“I love you!” Ward assured, landing on his feet on the second level deck.
“Hey! Damn it, Ward!” Shoupe cursed. “Turn it around and get back in here!”
“Dad! No!” Sarah cried hysterically, watching as Ward closed himself off in the boat where no one could see him. The four units in the water were closing in on him —where did he plan to go? “Please don’t leave!” Sarah croaked one last time when suddenly the bottom of The Druther’s blew, sending a wave of silence over everyone.
Even the boats in the water slowed, not wanting to get to close to the wreckage as it blew again, each blast getting higher and higher, hitting each story of The Druther’s. Each boom sent each of you back a step, hearing Sarah’s breath hitch was what broke your heart.
You all threw your arms up, shielding yourselves from the debris and shrapnel that was now flying in the air as easily as dust. A thick cloud of dark grey filled the air, metal and other materials floating down into the water as everyone just stared.
It was silent until Sarah started to hyperventilate, a hand on her chest as you watched as her knees began to give out. “No, no.” She struggled to get out, a hand hovering over her throat as she cried. “Dad…dad!” You know someone should’ve helped her or comforted her but it was like none of you could. You were frozen in place, watching the boat go up in flames.
You couldn’t believe this. No, really. You couldn’t. Despite the fire and the smoke and the boat now in pieces, you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you.
Ward was dead?
You were supposed to believe that Ward was dead? 
How could any kind of universe allow him the easy way out? How was that fair?
You didn’t even really notice Topper, who’d appeared out of nowhere but seemingly just on time, catch Sarah just as she fell. You saw it out of you peripheral, but your sights never left that burning boat.
Ward…was dead.
Ward Cameron was dead.
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misspelledwordswizard · 7 days ago
Note
the chain reacts to reader dancing belly dance like Shakira
that's all
aIt would be a good way to earn some rupees now that I think about it
Oh yes, that was so much fun to write! some were a little platonic, others not so much, Wind's completely, of course. Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!
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The Chain needs money. That’s the problem we’re currently dealing with, and everyone thought of something they could do to make up for our lack of rupees. Some offered to search for rupees in the grass, easy but time-consuming. Others thought of offering their services in the village near where we were. The lack of money is so worrying that we can’t even pay for the inn, so we’re camping nearby. 
I wanted to help too, of course, but when I tried to say something, they didn’t listen, saying that I didn’t need to worry, that they would deal with it. While everyone dispersed through the village, leaving me to “explore”, I decided that I would go against what I was told and get the money myself. Stubborn? A little. 
In the end, there wasn’t much I could do anyway, I would get bored quickly. Rummaging through my things, I found the perfect object to use, which would allow me to at least try to get some rupees, while I could still have fun.  I found a place where I could change into a belly dancing outfit that would also help to attract the attention of others. 
While looking for a place to perform in the center of the village, I came across a man who was doing something similar to what I wanted to do, but with music. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I asked him if I could perform alongside him, using his music to dance to, which he agreed to. 
Soon I was performing a belly dance, the sound of the coins on my waist synchronized with the music being played, and my surroundings began to fill with curious people, some of whom gladly helped by leaving a few rupees. Everything was going well, until I saw a familiar blonde approaching. 
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Four 
The shorter man approached where I was performing, squeezing through the crowd with great difficulty. Finally, when he could see me clearly, his eyes widened in surprise. 
I thought about stopping to explain myself, it was a bit embarrassing, but I was already very focused on this whole thing, and in the end, it was working. He moved closer to me, until he was right next to me, so I could hear him more clearly. 
— What are you doing? What’s all this for? – He asked, so that only I could hear. 
— I’m getting rupees! I had to do something to help with this, so I’m using one of my skills. – He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, his cheeks taking on a pink hue as he looked away. 
— That’s... pretty clever, actually. But you don’t have to put yourself out there just for the money! 
— It’s okay, I like it! And it’s been a while since I’ve been able to do something like this, so I’m having a great time. 
He looked at me for a moment, looking almost indignant, but then he smiled and sighed. 
— Okay, but I’ll stick around then, to make sure everything’s okay. 
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Hyrule 
The boy walked through the crowd, confused about what all the fuss was about, until his eyes landed on me. The poor guy turned so red he looked like a tomato, he stood there, motionless, staring at me while I was still dancing. He stayed like that long enough to worry me, if he hadn’t reacted soon, I would have had to stop the dance to check on him. 
He blinked rapidly, coming out of his trance, then approached me shyly, embarrassed by the attention he gained from the others for doing so. He used such a low voice that I had difficulty understanding. 
��� Hey, why are you doing this? Not that you don’t look amazing! You’re very pretty, I mean, you’re very talented, but why do this now? 
The poor guy looked totally nervous. I imagine that in his era it wasn’t common to see women with such “vulgar” clothes, especially dancing in such a different way in front of several strangers. Or maybe that was only done by a certain type of women. 
— Oh, I’ve managed to get us some rupees! Don’t worry, this is just an artistic performance. 
That seemed to calm him down a bit, still without reaction, he went to a more secluded corner, where he could stay and wait for me to finish, so that I wouldn’t be alone. 
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Legend 
— What the hell is this? 
The blond man complained, not caring about the attention that was turned to him, he looked at me with a sullen face, judging me to the core, with his arms crossed, waiting for an answer. 
— A belly dance performance. – That was all I replied. 
— And for what? Are you trying to get the attention of the entire kingdom? 
— No. I’m trying to make some money. 
— Hasn’t it been made clear that you don’t have to do anything? 
— But I wanted to, it’s fun, I was bored and wanted to help. 
He snorted, but didn’t respond again, contrary to my logic. I thought he would leave in a huff, but to my surprise, the hero just stood there, watching me as I continued to dance. Well, I guess it’s okay to tease him a little more. 
— Are you enjoying the view? – I said, with a mischievous smile on my lips. 
— I am. 
He said, making me gasp in surprise and even making me lose focus and stop for a moment, while I processed his answer, which made him laugh. 
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Sky 
The hero of the skies emerged from the crowd, his eyes wandering until they stopped on me. He was visibly confused as to what I was doing, tilting his head to the side in doubt, until he approached and asked. 
— What are you doing? – His tone was not judgmental, just curious and somewhat enchanted by the movements my body was making. 
— It’s belly dancing, I’m performing to try to earn some rupees. 
— Sounds fun! Can I stay and watch? – He asked, seeming excited about it. 
— Sure, I’d love to have you here! – I replied smiling, his support made me want to continue even more, the activity that was already fun in itself became even better, because now my dear friend was there, praising and having fun with me. That thought made me blush, something I hope Sky doesn’t notice. 
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Time 
One felt butterflies in my stomach when I saw the tall man there, in the middle of all those people, watching me while I danced without any shame. I automatically thought I would get a scolding for doing this when I was explicitly told that I shouldn’t. However, it had been more of a suggestion than an order per se. 
The man in armor remained there, standing, watching me with a serious face while I continued dancing, trying my best not to lose focus with his gaze and end up making a mistake in some movement, which didn’t work out as well as I had hoped. 
I considered the idea of ​​stopping and getting out of there as quickly as possible, dragging the Old Man with me to avoid confusion, maybe that was what he wanted. Before I could finish this line of thought, I heard a muffled laugh coming from him, which caught my attention. 
Time smiled at me suggestively, as if laughing at my nervousness, knowing very well that he was to blame for it.  He then just walked over, bent down, leaving a few rupees in the small box I used for that, and left, without saying anything, leaving me more confused than before. 
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Twilight 
I could see, out of the corner of my eye, the Rancher looking at me among the others, his gaze fixed on me, but he didn’t seem surprised or bothered, just interested in the dance. 
Without worrying too much about it, I continued with my movements, following the beat of the music, moving my hips fluidly just as I had learned. But a part of me couldn’t help but ignore the presence of the blond right there, watching me like a predator watches its prey, which started to distract me more than I would have liked. 
Twi approached, smiling sideways, getting closer and closer, until his lips were close to my ear and he could whisper something for only I to hear. 
— It really is a mesmerizing dance, I would love to see it more often, in a more private way, though. 
He spoke, sending shivers down my spine, and then walked away, leaving me standing there, frozen. I stopped the dance, too shocked to concentrate on it, as I watched him walk away from the place as if it were nothing. 
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Warriors 
Shortly after seeing the Captain’s neatly styled blond hair, I could hear whistles and cheers coming from the crowd, with the voice easily unidentifiable as his. He continued to compliment me and act like I was some kind of celebrity, while giving me suggestive looks and laughing. 
I just rolled my eyes, holding back my laughter as he continued to do his provocative antics, drawing even more attention to himself, leaving those around him not very happy with him. 
Wars kept up this repetitive and annoying way, motivated to get my attention, but it was fun to watch him try, so I just let him continue while I danced. 
It wasn’t long before the others started to get annoyed with the blond, telling him to be quiet, which didn’t do much good, so soon he was being kicked out of there, which he couldn’t help but get a good laugh out of me. He whispered things like “you’re killing it!”  as he walked further away being pushed away by some men, which made me just shake my head, rolling my eyes with a smile, and continue dancing. 
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Wild 
The Champion’s long golden hair came into my field of vision, drawing my attention to him, who seemed fascinated by my movements. He smiled, excited to see me dancing, and seemed to have quickly understood why I was doing this. 
He applauded along with the crowd, when a song ended and I stopped dancing to catch my breath, then he approached me, with difficulty as other people did the same to leave their rupees. 
— That was amazing, I didn’t know I could dance so well, that sounds hard. 
— Yeah, a little bit, but once you learn it feels natural. 
— Okay, you have to teach me how to do that later. I’d rock it in a gerudo outfit, and I’d make money on top of that. Oh, we could even dance together! – He suggested, excited about the idea, making me laugh. 
— Sure, I wouldn’t mind having company. If you want to stay and watch, I’ll do it for a while longer. 
He nodded excitedly, very interested in the dance itself and how majestic I looked while I was doing it. 
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Wind  
The boy looked at me with a sparkle in his eyes as I danced, making me laugh. He approached me without caring about the others who were watching, very motivated to know more about the dance itself. 
— Wow, that’s so cool! Can you teach me? Can I dance with you? What’s that called? – The blond asked me a lot of questions, while I kept dancing and smiling at his excitement. 
— It’s called belly dancing, yes, I’ll teach you, and if you want to dance with me now, I’m sure it’ll be a fun addition, kid. – I joked, answering his questions and ruffling his golden hair. 
He got excited, soon standing next to me and trying to copy my moves, of course, it wasn’t very similar, but he was having fun, and that was more than enough for both of us. And the people watching thought it was cute too, which earned us a little extra money, so it was all profit. 
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