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kiridarling · 3 years

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𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂!

izuku midoriya | tw!guns, single mom!reader, bouncer!izuku, domestic stuffs, tit sucking, mommy!calling ah, AND daddy!calling oh my, breeding kink, breaking the bed (futon). minors dni!

— 5.4k words

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this, hmm?”

The alley is dark.

There's a disconcerting feeling as you step deeper into the quiet darkness,

You turn to look at the door you entered this dank place from, but it's just as dark and grimy as the walls. You're almost positive that if you rested a hand against them, it would return pitch black, and if you stood in one spot for more than five minutes, the sticky booze would glue your heels to the floor. You're surprised when it doesn't.

"Hand over your wallet and no one gets hurt, pretty lady."

He's a smarmy looking bastard and as thin as they come. It’s clear this isn’t something he does on the regular, the pointed gun quivering so much you worry a trembling might slip and pull the trigger. And you fucking freeze, blood running below zero and heart plummeting because why you?

And fuck, you’ve got a kid at home with a babysitter, and there are many outcomes to this situation, none of them too cute.

"I said hand it over," he grunts, pressing forwards. Your back hits the grimy brick wall as your eyes dart to the mouth of the alley, where life continues, where cars race past, but no one sees a damn thing. Fuck. Fuck.

And it's not like you have much—hell, you may be a mother, but you know how to party. You squeeze your eyes shut, grip tightening around your purse as you clumsily fumble through it and the man steps closer. You toss all you have to his feet. A fucking twenty. He raises an eyebrow before eyeing your watch. He lets out an unimpressed snort.

"That it?"

You nod, taking a shaky step back.

"Well, that ain't fuckin' enough."

There's a click and you're positive it's him turning off the safety. His face twists like he's about to shoot a bullseye, and you squeeze your eyes as tight as they can go.

Until the looming shadow of the stranger disappears, followed by a sound that's distinctly skin on skin. Er—skin on bone.

You don't watch the fight. Frankly, you don't want to, and you still get to hear your protector spew a litany of curses and disrespectful phrases that should really only come from someone's mother. You don't even open your eyes, still screwed shut with a vice grip around your purse and wallet.

"Um, excuse me Miss? Are you alright?"

Your protector's eyes are much bigger than you expect them to be—and green. You realize you remember seeing those eyes, hardened from across the club.

He's hesitant to touch you, hands rising and falling and rising again. Though you suppose a hug seems like it'd be a little abrasive, it also sounds like the exact kind of thing you need right now.

"U-Um, yeah I'm..." you start, before noticing your attackers body bloodied and wrapped like a pretzel on the ground. "...Fine..."

He sounds like he's going to pass out—he doesn't.

"We should um, we should get you home," As he speaks, the greenette shuffles you out of the alley and into the streetlamp light, blinking himself out of something before holding a meaty hand out of formality. "I'm Izuku by the way. Izuku Midoriya."

For such a big guy, Izuku seems rather timid, and yet, seeing him at the entrance with crossed arms in a black tee and a scowl in the club doesn't give you much insight into his personality. Which makes you wonder why he became the club's bouncer in the first place.

"Um, nice to meet you," you nod, trying to suppress the shake in your hands as you take his. "Y/N."

Izuku smiles at that, and even though you're a regular, you've never actually seen him beam on the job. "Cool! Cool, so...um, I don't really feel comfortable letting you walk home...alone..."

You nod—he panics as if you aren't already on board.

"'Cause it's like, a conscience thing, you know? Like, I really won't be able to sleep tonight otherwise," Izuku defends, shoving a clumsy hand in his green curls. "B-But if you don't feel comfortable with it, or something, that's totally fine! I know what you just experienced was horrible, and you probably do—"

"Izuku."

"Yeah?" He perks up. It seems as if the circuit his mind runs finally comes to a stop.

"I'd...feel more comfortable if you walked me home. Too."

Your innards ache at the stiffness in both your voice and figure, but Izuku doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he beams, standing ten feet taller, and you think—yeah. You'd feel much safer if he did.

"O-Okay! Cool!" He confirms a bit stiff himself, and then, in a smoother motion, holds his hand out to take. "Shall we?"

Your red palm claps over his, and you snort quietly, "We shall."

You two walk in a surprisingly comfortable silence for the beginning of the walk—you lead the way and he silently trails behind, glaring daggers at any passerby with lingering eyes as you march on, unknowing.

"So um, do you come to Club 777 often?"

Which is a question you know he knows the answer to, completely aware you almost come every Saturday. But you smile at his attempt to start a conversation anyways, hands tucking underneath your armpits in search of warmth.

"Yeah, sometimes. Just trying to get out and stuff. Y'know, away from the kid."

"I get that," he nods with a smile, before tugging at the hem of his hoodie. "Oh! Are you cold? Here—wait, let me."

He shucks it over your head and your positive it messes up your hair. But you find that you don't care much, especially in favor of the warmth that it provides.

And then, "You have a kid?"

"Yep," you say, tucking your fists into the jacket pockets. "A big two-year-old potato waits for me back home."

"Oh," Izuku chortles at your description before tucking his hands into his jean pockets too. Licking his lips, his eyes dart to the street, "I...assume your boyfriend watches him for the night? Or husband or whoever."

"Uhm, not quite," you chuckle towards your feet, though it's a touch acrid. Izuku picks up on it immediately.

"Oh I'm so sorr—I didn't kno—"

"It's fine, Izuku really—"

"I—but I shouldn't even be assuming what if you had a wife or girlfriend or—" he takes a second to gasp, and your eyes widen in fear that he'll choke, "—or if they're nonbinary or—"

"Izuku," you knock him on the shoulder and he finally shuts up. "It's fine. I get it all the time."

He falters, but at least he seems to relax. "Really?"

"Yes," you giggle behind a hand, and the greenette smiles at it.

"O-Okay, cool."

Flecks of gold swim in Izuku's green irises and you find yourself noticing them now, suppressing the urge to advance closer for a better look. You stare long enough to watch his smile relax into a comfortable line, but you snap out of it once he kicks a rock, the sound of the gravel skittering across the floor tugging you out of your reverie.

"I'm not very good with kids, y'know," he says as an afterthought. You snort.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean," he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "Like what am I supposed to feed it? French fries?"

"Toddlers aren't it's, Izu." You can't tell if he flushes from the nickname or from what you said, but either way, it's enough to prompt another laugh. "And maybe start with baby food?"

"Ah," Izuku nods, and you guide him in turning a corner. "That would make sense.

"It would."

By the time you stop in front of your red front door, it's almost three am. You figure you caught Izuku right after he got off work, if the cheesy All Might sweatshirt you're wearing is any evidence of that, but either way, he looks like he's about to fall flat on his face.

"You can stay for the night, if you want," you offer, albeit meekly, and Izuku lifts two hands with insistence.

"Oh! No no no please, I'm fine," he shakes his head so quickly his curls bounce in a flurry, and you genuinely worry he's going to pass out when he tries to blink himself awake. "Just...not used to staying up this late is all."

"Then stay," you offer with a shrug, and your orange porch light flickers. "It's the least I can do. I've got a bed and a futon, and I'm fine with sleeping on either."

"I..." Izuku's green eyes flicker towards your door before back to you, "I really shouldn't. I'm a stranger an—"

"And I'm offering."

Izuku's eyebrows fold with the dilemma, but you grab his hand with a tug and a smile, while your free one shoves the keys into the door. "C'mon. Let's get you some rest, yeah?"

You can't tell if Izuku blushes or if it's just the lighting, but either way, his chest inflates in protest before deflating in resignation.

"Okay."

With a smile, you turn the doorknob. Your door has always taken some shoulder to get open, so you don't hesitate in shoving your collarbone into the hardwood. Izuku cringes at the sight.

"Mama!"

Your hit in the legs first, nearly stumbling back with a quiet oof. You look down to see Max wrapped around your legs like you're a fucking jungle gym, grinning with two missing teeth and a bandaid over his nose.

It's three am.

"I'm done," your babysitter grunts. "He doesn't listen when I tell him to bathe, eat, anything—I fucking quit."

And with that, they slam the door behind them, house rattling under the pressure. You sigh. There goes another one. Fuck.

"Well that wasn't very nice," Izuku grumbles under his breath disapprovingly. You smile at the arms crossed over his chest until Max peeks around your legs to see...

"A new daddy?"

"I—no, baby," you fight the embarrassment (and the urge to say you fucking wish) by picking the little one up by his armpits, smiling when he thrusts his hands in the air and goes weee! After he's comfortably cradled in your arms, you say, "He's just staying the night."

"Like daddy did!" Max defends with a giggle before rushing the greenette with open arms. Izuku just looks at you with a shrug before kneeling to take a hug to the chest as Max chants, "New daddy! New daddy!"

And, well. There's no stopping him now.

You peel your heels off your cramping feet and sigh at the fucking freedom, toes uncurling from the scrunched position it feels like they've been holding the entire night. You curse under your breath when you realize since Max is awake you've got to put him to bed too, and honestly, if you knew this babysitter was going to be just as useless as the others, you would've just let Max run fucking free while you lived life for a few hours. Not like that outcome would be any better.

"Alright Maxie, c'mon."

You take him away from his celebration with the greenette and though he pouts, he allows his mother to gather him in her arms.

"Do you um, need help?"

You turn to see Izuku awkwardly shifting in the doorway from the request, hands behind his back with pursed lips. You shake your head.

"Oh no, it's fine. I just have to put him down really quickly and then I'll be—"

"Mama, I'm hungry. I want chicken nuggies." Max loops his arms around your neck and tugs so hard you worry about your bones. You shake your head with a sigh and a pout.

"It's too late for you to be up, bud. You can have chicken nuggies for lunch tomorrow. Sound like a plan?"

But goodness. In this state, it'll take hours for him to relax—and you still have to unfold the futon for Izuku.

Max whines and kicks his legs but doesn't say no, meaning he's not really that hungry, he just wants to stay awake. "But—but what if new daddy's gone in the morning like the last one?"

Fuck.

"Max," you sigh, giving him a light shake so his matching eyes look into you yours. You speak a little softer, "Izuku's not your new daddy, okay? He's a houseguest."

Max's face drops. "Not eve—"

"No, Maxie," you sigh, squeezing him on the shoulder. "Now let's go to bed, okay?"

"I can—I can put him down if you'd like! So you can get into something more comfortable and stuff. I mean, I've never worn a dress but sweats are so much better, you know? Or shorts, or...whatever you wear to sleep."

You understand the many points he's trying to get across, one being that's he's not a creep, just a nice guy, and you suppose you and Max can live in your "new daddy" fantasy for a little longer. Even if you know this one will be gone by morning.

"Um, okay yeah," you say, voice a little thin, before handing your child over to the greenette—who bounces into his arms excitedly. "I'll be back, then? His room is down the hall to the right. The one with the race car bed."

Izuku's eyes narrow as he processes your directions. "Down the hall to the right—okay! I'll just go take this little guy to bed, then."

"Okay, thank you," you nearly bow, because Izuku just saved both of you so much time and he doesn't even understand how. "Oh! And good luck."

"Good...luck?"

"Yep!" You say with a wink and a pat on the back before scooping your heels and booking it back to your bedroom with a cackle. Time to get out of this dress. Fucking finally.

You realize that being alone is much more unsettling when you've had a gun held to your head today.

Every little noise just seems off, like it could belong to something more than it actually does, even the silence; you find yourself shoving your head through your t-shirt abnormally fast, eyes blinking to take a survey of the room to ensure that you're alone. You are. It's fine.

And that's what you tell yourself when you close your eyes to run a wet rag over your face, and again with the dry one. All of a sudden, you don't like the way your bathroom window faces the open backyard nor do you like how dark it is outside. You don't like how big your bed looks, and goddammit, you haven't even gotten into it yet.

Pushing all uneasy thoughts aside, you stumble out of your bedroom with a fresh face and a new outfit, stilling in Max's doorway when the greenette doesn't notice you. Resting against the frame with crossed arms, you smile.

"I do so like green eggs and ham! Thank you! Thank you, Sam-I-am. You know, when I was a kid I—oh, he's asleep."

Izuku tucks the snoring boy in his lap under the covers with a gentle grin, pulling them underneath his chin. The greenette takes a second, watches Max's chest rise and fall a few times, before ruffling the tuft of hair on his head with a snort, and walking away.

You don't even think Izuku sees you until he practically sashays out the door, winking, "Good luck, huh?"

To say you go red in the face from that is an understatement.

"How do you do this?"

"Do what?" You ask as you pulling the futon in your living room forwards. Izuku yawns before gesturing to the clock with a shake of his head.

"Take care of a kid, and work, and go to a bar every Saturday evening? It's four am, and something tells me you've been up for a while. I'm practically dead and I wake up at one pm every day!"

You chuckle at that, jumping on the bed with your hands and knees to ensure its lays flat...and ensure that it won't make an Izuku sandwich at seven in the morning. "You build up stamina after a while, I guess."

"No shit," he gestures to you as you utilize the entire length of your body to put the sheets on the mattress. He would help, but you told him no, insisting that he'd only make this take longer. "Are you sure you do—"

"Nope," you huff, clapping your hands together. "I'm done."

Izuku blinks at the made bed, to you, to the made bed again, and then back to you with wide eyes.

"Mommy magic."

"I—" you blink towards the ceiling to see if that even makes sense, but you figure fuck it, it's four am, with a snort. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want to call it."

In reality, you feel like you're about to pass out.

"Um, so I don't really have pj pants and I don't think you'll have any that'll fit, so..."

"Yeah no, I definitely burned all the shit my ex left—"

"Aha okay, cool, um, so just boxers...are fine...?"

He looks down at his black jeans and back to you, raising an eyebrow. You toss a nonchalant shrug in return, and you hate to say it, but your inner school girl goes—dick outline.

"O-Okay, then," Izuku says, and you watch his hands curl around the waistband. "I'm just gonna—"

He shucks his pants so hard they hit the floor, and your eyes widen because...well...looks like he's just gonna do it then.

Until Izuku's hands rush to cover his crotch (which you weren't peeking at, you weren't) and you realize that maybe you should've stepped out of the room or something.

"U-Um—that was fast—"

"I thought—thought you were going to uhm, turn around," he flushes, a funny contrast to the way his muscles fold under that black shirt, and your feet move to turn around like he ordered you to do it.

"Sorry! So sorry," you try to apologize, but now his dick print is burned in your brain, and...it isn't that bad.

"It—It's fine! I'm in the bed now so, you can turn around."

You laugh awkwardly and scuffle to turn, as you do, and Izuku beams at you from the bed with a wave.

"Hi," he says, his lower half-tucked under the covers. You wave back.

"Hi."

Izuku's eyes dart to you living room tv before the come back to you. "So uhm, I guess this is goodnight?"

"Oh right," you perk up at that, hands rubbing the sides of your thighs like there's something on them. "Time to go to bed, right?"

"Uh, yeah!" He nods, chest shuddering before he says, "so uh, sweet dreams?"

You smile tight at the kind gesture, and your hands opt to pull at the hem of your shirt instead, eyes drifting to an old pile of records you haven't regarded in months. "Thanks! You...too?"

Izuku smiles, though his eyes drift, "Yeah..."

You beam back. You figure you should probably go now, or something, until you think of something and slam a fist into your palm. "Oh! Also, I meant to thank you for saving me. I'm not sure if I did that. Did I do that?"

The greenette shrugs, "Uh, I think so?"

"Okay! Okay. Cool," you nod, flashing a tight smile. "Mmk. Night Izuku."

"G'night."

And see, you would move—except it seems as if your feet are glued to the floor and won't move no matter how hard you try, to the point where it feels like your straining and they're going numb, and yet you're still staring at Izuku's pretty fucking face.

"C'mon," he chuckles, scooting over on the futon to make extra space for you. "If you take all day, the beds gonna get cold, and then I'm going to have to crawl into yours like a creep."

"Oh my fucking god," you snort one breath and move to flick off the lights before stumbling through the darkness for the futon. "You're so weird."

"Weird in a good way, I hope," he lifts the blanket and you slide under—and swear your knee grazes his before it's snatched away.

"There's no weird in a bad way," you say once you've settled comfortably, tucking your hands under your head as you lay on your stomach. Izuku mimics your position, though he takes up much more of the blanket, and you find that it drapes over you like a tent over his shoulders. Neither of you close your eyes, for some reason.

"Hi," Izuku whispers.

"Hi," you smile back.

"Okay," he huffs, face twisting in determination, "Now it's goodnight."

"Right," you nod, but your eyes don't close. "Goodnight. Of course."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," he says with a chuckle, and you can't tell if his eyes flicker to your lips or if you imagine it. Either way, you look them just in case.

"I better not have bedbugs," you snort. "I clean this place like a motherfucker."

Izuku's nose twitches at that with a nod. Moonlight pours into your living room and colors his pale skin silver, though you figure it won't take the sun much longer to color it a strawberry pink. "You really do. It's...different when it's quiet."

"Yeah," you agree, placing your hands on his chest. It shudders under your palms. "Kinda personal, huh?"

"Mhm," he nods, and though his hands wrap around your wrists, they never pull them away. You lift an eyebrow.

"A bad personal?"

Izuku doesn't hesitate, breath nearly ghosting your lips as he says, "Hardly."

"Would you..." now it's your chests turn to shudder, and sliding a hand up to play with his ear, you bite the bullet. "Like to get more personal?"

Izuku's lips melt into a grin against yours, "I'd love to."

His lips are softer than you thought.

Maybe because you assumed all of him was a bumbling mess, including his chapstick application; but they're fucking pillow-soft, and you don't realize how deprived you are until his hold around your body turns from protective to sensual and you melt from his heat.

"Fuck," Izuku huffs between kisses, growling when your grip around his neck tightens. "Watching you from across the club for weeks can do a thing to a guy's patience, you know."

"Oh?" You snort as he presses enthusiastic open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, hot and wet, and painful once his teeth dig into your collarbone. "A-Ah, Izuku—no marks."

"O-Oh! Sorry," he pulls away, lips red and swollen, and shiny with spit. You smile at the reaction.

"'S okay, Baby," you giggle at the speed to which his muscles go lax, and his eyes droop to your chest when you scratch the back of his head.

"Can I—can I suck your tits?"

He asks so bashfully it's nearly innocent, and you find your eyes dropping to your chest along with his before you're ditching his All Might sweatshirt all together.

"God," Izuku's eyes flutter as he gathers your breasts in both palms, groaning at the sight. "They're fucking perfect."

You shudder as his thumb ghosts a nipple, and Izuku dips an experimental hand under your lacy bra and pinches. Hard.

Your thighs jolt and hands fist the sheets, and a moan comes from the back of your throat before you can stop it. Izuku's hand rocket to cover your mouth.

"Shh—you don't wanna wake him up, do you?"

You shake your head, but it's hard to keep quiet when your nipples are as sensitive as they are. Izuku doesn't seem like he really means that statement, though, lowering his head with a devilish grin as if he knows that for himself.

“Sensitive, Mommy?”

“O-Oh um,” you flush at the nickname, and even more so when his lips close around your nipple and suck. Tangling a hand in his hair, you sigh, “Yeah, a little.”

Izuku hums at that, eyes fluttering to watch you bite your bottom lip in a poor attempt to muffle a moan, hissing as his teeth dig into the hardened bud. He pulls off with a slurp and moves to the other, but not without a few kisses across your chest.

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this, hmm?” Izuku nearly growls out before biting into the opposite nipple, and you shudder as he dips a scarred hand down the waistband of your shorts and panties. He chuckles after sliding a finger through your slit. “So wet for me.”

“It—It’s been a second,” you sigh, grip tightening around his shoulders as he slides a finger in. Even Izuku has to bite a lip at your tightness in anticipation, mouth descending over your nipple once more to send frissons of fire up your spine.

“No shit,” he grunts around your nipple, curling his finger. You gasp. “Think I can fit another one in there?”

“Why don’t you try?” You giggle, but it dissipates into nothing but air as he does, his two fingers filling you up enough to elicit a sigh.

“How’s that?” He breathes, face hovering over yours. As your hands coil around his neck, his free one reaches for your inner thigh and pulls it back far enough to give him a better angle as he presses you into the mattress.

“Good, it’s good,” you nod, and your hips start to move on their own, bucking forwards as if there’s any more finger left for you to fuck. (Spoiler: there’s not.)

“Good,” he breathes, eyes going glossy as he watches you writhe under him. You're positive that you're carving painful red lines into his back, but considering the way his eyebrows fold every time you do, makes you wonder if he doesn't mind. "Fuck I can't wait to fuck you—I can fuck you, right?"

"No Izuku, I'm just letting you finger me for fu-u—fuck."

He slides in a third finger and for some reason, it burns a little—but the burn only makes your eyes roll further, and he's stuffing you with a chuckle.

"What was that?"

"I-I—you're not pla—playing very fair," you huff, chest shuddering as he tilts your hips higher for a better angle. You suppress a scream when his fingers curl, jolting forwards at such a speed it makes the futon creak. Izuku tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from going too far.

"No one said anything about being fair, Mommy," he teases, and you whine when he removes his fingers, tapping them against your lips. "C'mon, you gotta get 'em wet so I can fuck you, right?"

You nod at the idea, enjoying the idea of being filled up much more, and coat his fingers to the point where they're dripping when he pulls him out. Izuku's chest rumbles.

"So good for me," he purrs, using your spit to coat his cock before he's sliding his head between your folds—you shiver, grabbing onto his back again. "Ready?"

“Mhm,” you nod, spreading your legs further—though you swear they do that on their own.

“Oh my, you’re um...tight...”

You whimper from the stretch and look between your legs, eyes widening upon seeing that Izuku’s much bigger than you had anticipated. Or had been warned of.

“F-Fuck, I can’t—“

“Shhhh, it’s okay, just a little more, okay?” Izuku nearly whispers into your lips as his hands move to rub your shuddering sides. Your eyes screw shut, “Jus’ a little more, Mommy...”

Izuku pushes deeper and you’re being split in half—because what else could that burn be—but you’ll admit, the feeling of accomplishment you receive once he bottoms out is surreal.

“Good—Good girl,” Izuku’s nearly quivering and plants his hands on both sides of your head with a huff.

“I-Izu,” you whimper as he starts to move, feeling impossibly full no matter how far he pulls out. Izuku shudders, mouth rounding into an ‘o’ when his hips slowly start to gain rhythm, and though it’s loud, you know the creak of the futon is unavoidable. You squeal as his head hammers into your cervix, pulling out a wanton Daddy before you have half a mind to shut the fuck up. You nearly freeze, and yet, all Izuku’s hips do is speed up.

“Yeah? Want me to be your new Daddy?” He moans, and you dig your nails into his back with a nod. The greenette curses at that, biting his bottom lip and his hand drops between your legs to rub at your clit. With thighs seizing around his waist, you slam a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.

“Fuck—I make you feel that good, Mommy?” Izuku nearly wheezes, eyes suppressing the urge to screw closed, “So good you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut?”

“Y-Yeah, I—“ you gasp when he lifts your hips off the bed for a better angle, hands fisting the sheets. “Harder, Daddy—“

“Oh Mommy, if I go any harder I think I might break this bed,” he says, borderline bashful, but you find yourself saying fuck the bed as your hips buck in search of a feeling he refuses to give you. Izuku’s chuckle strains as he says, “So needy, Mommy. You that needy for my cum?”

Clawing at his back, you try your damnest to stutter out a yes. Izuku chuckles at your desperation before he cuts himself off with a groan, eyes rocketing to where you’re both connected as you tighten around him.

“F-Fill me up, I wanna—“

“You want another baby, Mommy?” Izuku pants, and you’re so close you start to feel a buzz in your thighs, praying he isn’t too far behind. You nod vehemently with a gasp and his lips slide into an exhausted smile, "Fuck, of course you do—and you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you? All of it.”

Izuku finishes his sentence with a growl, pressing you further into the mattress—it squeaks like a squeaky wheel, and when it thunks a level lower both of you yelp, the back of the futon thumping on your hardwood floor with each thrust.

“Told ya,” Izuku wheezes, eyes scrunching in a chuckle. You return it.

“It—It’s old anyway,” you reply, but your eyebrows fold as quickly as they unfold from the crash. The creaking futon increases in pitch as his hips pick up the pace, “Fuck—fuck Izuku I’m gonna cum.”

“What’s my name?” The greenette challenges, and you find yourself shivering at the dominance he exudes. The finger on your clit disappears and you whine, knowing damn well you can’t cum without it.

“Daddy—Daddy please—“

“Good—fuck, so good for me,” his hand returns to your clit and you sigh at the feeling. As the coil in your gut threatens to snap, his hips speed up, and Izuku pants, “We’re gonna cum together, yeah? Cum with me Mommy, c’mon—“

“Fuck!” You drag red lines down Izuku’s back as you quake under the weight of your orgasm, broken bed whining as Izuku thrusts all his weight into you. Digging his teeth into your shoulder, the greenette cums with a broken moan, hips stuttering into yours for the final time that night.

The room fills with a comfortable silence, minus the panting, and Izuku rolls onto the mattress next to you with a bounce. It creaks, whines, and then drops again, catching both you and the greenette by surprise. (Again.)

“I think—I think we broke it,” Izuku says towards the ceiling as he catches his breath. You giggle at that, hands laid across your sweaty stomach, and turn to him with your head in the pillow.

“Gives me an excuse to buy a new one,” you say with a shrug. Izuku chuckles back.

“I guess,” he teeters his head to both sides. “I can...also pitch in, if you want. Since I broke the thing. Technically.”

His offer sounds apprehensive as if he’s encroaching in your space, as if he hasn’t been all up in your space less than a minute ago. You smile. “I’d like that a lot, actually. Thanks.”

"And um, breakfast? I mean," he snorts, though it seems rather defensive, and his eyes rocket to the ticking clock on your wall. Your eyes follow: five am. "I mean—fuck um, I feel like this might be weird but I think you're cool? Um, yeah, so breakfast, I can make it if you want because you're so busy being motherly and stuff and plus, it's Sunday but again, if you don't wan—"

"Izuku," you giggle, wrapping your arms around his gut with a little squeeze. "Breakfast sounds nice."

The greenette beams and his chest stutters. "O-Okay cool! Cool, cool. Breakfast then?"

You snort, driving your palm into his face to shut him the fuck up. "Goodnight, Izuku."

Izuku giggles, getting the message, and coils his arms around your shoulders to provide a comfort you haven't felt in a very, very long time.

"G'night Mommy."

#— 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 #CLUB 777 #izuku smut #bnha smut #mha smut #midoriya smut

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mid-weast · 3 years

Text

Will you keep it down? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You and Jungkook attend the same university and have been neighbors for 3 months now. It drives you crazy that he plays loud music at 2AM, and it drives him crazy that you barely acknowledge his presence.

Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader; Black!Reader

Words: 2.6K

Genre: enemies to lovers, student!jungkook, student!reader, fluff, mention of smut, angst? (in the form of bickering back and forth).

Authors note: Hi hi! This is the first fic I’ve ever written so if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also it is unedited so if there's grammar / spelling mistakes I'm sorry again! Also this is catered toward the reader being Black but I hope it can be enjoyed by everyone. Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated ok love u bye!

“Y/N? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!? Open this door RIGHT NOW!”

Even though you were studying in your room, his knocks were so loud you nearly jumped out of your skin. You had expected a reaction, but not a full-on explosion.

You and Jungkook have been apartment neighbors for about three months now, and a constant problem is that he blares his music hella loud late at night. Of course he’s a music major so he listens to music a lot, but at this point you don’t care. It doesn’t even seem like he’s working on composition homework anyway, just being an asshole with no regard for his neighbors peace. Now don’t get yourself wrong, you're not just some uptight bitch who complains about everything. Well, you do have several pet peeves but over the years of going to school in Korea you’ve picked and chosen your battles very wisely. In most cases you let things slide. You wouldn’t care at all about someone playing the music loudly, but it is 2 AM, and while you’re up studying you know a lot of your other neighbors are trying to sleep.

You tiptoe toward your front door and twist the knob slowly. You only open the door wide enough to be able to see his face. It’s not that you’re scared that you’re in danger or anything, and you rarely back down from people giving you a hard time. But you were tired, wearing a big ass t- shirt and short shorts (your regular sleep attire), and it was late at night. So if anything was going to pop off you felt pretty vulnerable. Even though you’re the same age, he towers over you and you find his size kinda intimidating.

As usual, you have to crane your neck to see his face, and your view of him is limited by the narrowness in which

you opened the door.

“Can I help you, lil boy?”

From what you can see of him, right away you can tell that he is pissed. Dawning his usual attire of a black sweatshirt with the hood up, black sweats, and stomp a hoe boots, he stood extremely close to your apartment door with his arms crossed. His usually wide, puppy dog eyes are now pressed in narrow slits. His normally pouty lips are formed in a hard line, and his jaw is so clenched you could carve an ice sculpture with his jawline.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You called the cops on me? Are you INSANE???" Jungkook shouts.

Obviously he's mad, and despite the amount of times you've gone back and forth he's never raised your voice at you. The old you would have screamed back at him, but over time you've tried to respond to anger with calmness. Also, you were a little scared because this mf is kind of big.

"I already told you if you keep blaring your music at 2AM, I was going to do something about it!" You respond in a hushed whisper, slightly concerned that your elderly neighbors will be even more disturbed by the noise. "I've told you this a million times, and you barely do anything about it. If anything, it's gotten worse like you're doing it on purpose. People are trying to sleep and I'm trying to study, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sucks his teeth. "You're such a little snitch. And I've already told YOU that YOU can't tell me what to do."

"I know I can't...but they can," you nod toward the exit, referring to the police officers that most likely just left out that way with a tiny smirk growing on your face.

If it was possible, he clenched his jaw even harder and you think that he's going to pop a blood vessel. He pushes his way into your apartment, which sends you stumbling back and you grab the door handle to regain your balance. This causes you to close the door shut.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're-"

He steps right up to you and leans down into your face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, seriously??? Why are you such an annoying little brat? Just because you're a nerd with no friends who gets no play doesn't mean you can take your bitterness out on me.”

You have to laugh in his face at this point because hello??? First of all, who is he talking to? Second of all, you have told him a BUNCH of times to turn his music down late at night. You didn't think that was too much to ask. As far as you were concerned, being aware of your noise level when you live in an apartment is the universal bare minimum for being a human being.

"ME? Who do you think YOU are? Actually let me tell you. You're an entitled little rich boy who thinks he runs the world. I don't give a fuck about how popular you are on campus, how many people fall at your feet to be around you, and how many hoes you have, you cant talk to ME like that. And how are you going to try and tell me about myself when it's too much of a task for you to be a decent neighbor? I've never done anything to blatantly bother you, so why can you just.." You started to panic because usually when you raise your voice out of anger, your voice cracks and tears threaten to pool out of your eyes, but you tried to get a grip and not back down..."why can you just be nice to me so we can live in peace? Is that too hard for you???"

He looked kind of taken aback by your question. Being nice to you? It never crossed his mind. Also, you kind of had a point. When the semester started and you both moved in on the same day, you would shoot him a small, friendly smile in passing but you never seemed interested in getting to know him. He always wondered why that was. It's not that he had a problem talking with girls, since all he had to do was breathe and girls would come flocking around him, but you would flat out ignore him. Even at all the major parties at the beginning of the year and on Thursday nights when students take over the clubs in the city, you'd barely even acknowledge him. He KNEW that you had seen him too, since you would make eye contact, but you acted like he was just another guy at the club.

And he'd be lying if he said you weren't fine. You had thick thighs, a beautiful face, nice curves, and always wore outfits that hugged you in the right places. He always wondered what it would feel like to wrap his arms around your body and press it against his own. He would constantly sneak peaks of you throughout the night at the club, but something stirred in him when he saw that you were chatting up other guys. Was he...jealous? Jealous that you were so eager to pay attention to these dudes who, in his opinion, were decent looking but they were nowhere near his level, and you never even gave him a second thought? One night he even saw you leaving with a man he knew through mutual friends, and he had to physically stop himself from breaking the glass he was holding, because that guy, while objectively handsome, was nothing compared to him. Jungkook wasn't blatantly cocky, but he let his talent, charm, and looks speak for themselves. He was THEE Jeon Jungkook, and nothing ever really bothered him....except you.

Was he....interested in you? Nah, that can't be it. You were some random chick who happened to be his neighbor, who also is one of the only girls he's met that doesn't give two fucks about even having small talk with him, and that infuriated him for some reason. So the first time you came knocking on his door in an adorable pink satin pajama set with a matching bonnet complaining about his loud music, he knew the game he had to play.

He's still standing over you, centimeters away from you face, but you notice that his eyes soften a little and so does his jaw. He unclenches the fists he was holding crossed against his chest

You continue, “I don't care what you do, and I'm DEFINITELY trying to run your messy ass life. Believe me," you scoff, "you don't have enough money to pay me to do that. But when your dickhole behavior fucks with MY life is when it's a problem. And it's BEEN a problem."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, little girl, maybe I should call you little mouse now, since now I know that you'll go squeaking to the cops now, don't fuck with me or my music again.”

Without moving your head you look him up and down with a confused expression. "Am I supposed to be scared of you? No seriously, you look like you cry during Disney movies while wearing footie pajamas, and now here you are throwing a fit because I forced you to stop bothering the entire wing with your music?"

Girl...what are you saying??? This man just barged into YOUR place, is in your face, and is strong enough to pick you up and throw you, and you’re insulting him? But you figured if he's going to be rude, you'll throw it right back because you're tired of his bullshit.

Whatever softness he was feeling for a fleeting moment immediately left, and annoyance once again washed over. He straightens up a bit and puts on that annoying confident smirk he wears when he thinks he's won arguments between you two.

"You should be nicer to me, all it will take is for me to tweet one thing about you, and you'll be the most hated person on campus."

At this point, any suspicions that you had about him annoying you on purpose were confirmed. You've concluded that this mf is a bully and you, small and shy but not one to take mess, will put him in his place to-motherfucking-night.

You take a step toward him, now crossing your arms tightly against your chest, but he doesn't even move a hair backwards.

"Clearly you need a rude awakening so here it is. I don't know what type of people you've dealt with all your life, always saying yes to you, letting you boss them around and taking whatever bullshit you dish out, but let me tell you I am not the one. Never have been and never will be. Unlike the other fools around here who cream their pants at the mention of your name, I don't care about who you are. You'll respect ME and MY peace as long as we're neighbors, you get me?"

Now y/n, you have never so boldly stood up to someone, where did that come from, babes? You've tried to not let this entitled little boy get to you this whole time, but with him standing in front of you in the middle of your apartment with that extremely annoying, yet handsome, smirk on his face, and after all the crap he's said tonight, he had you all the way fucked up.

After you said that, he just laughed and looked away. Now you’re standing there fuming and confused...was there a joke you missed? You were being dead serious!

"Something funny?" you ask, narrowing your eyes.

"Nothing, just thinking about how I want to face fuck that annoying little mouth of yours so you finally shut up.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. You've never had a guy say something so blatantly rude and vulgar literally inches away from your face. But again, you weren't going to back down.

"Oh really?" Scoffing and tilting your head to the side a bit while narrowing your eyes even more, "I'd very much like to do the same. Maybe then you'll learn your place."

"Oh please, princess, you probably blanch when someone around you even mentions the word sex." He chuckles and leans down close toward your face again and cocks his head to the side, scrunching his nose and in a pouty voice said, "you're fooling no one, but keep trying, maybe you'll get there.”

You're even more annoyed than you were before, if that was even possible. But if he wanted to play this game, you might as well go there with him. It's true, you were a bit more prudent than more, but it pissed you off that he could tell. Regardless, you do know some things to say that could have him leaving with his tail between his legs.

You pouted your lips and in a babying tone said, “Aww sweetheart you have no idea. You think you're big and bad but like I said, you probably cry watching Disney movies. The same way you'd be crying, begging me to let you cum down my throat as I mercilessly toy with your cock for hours.”

Now it's his turn to go pale. Y/n, his stuck up neighbor who has barely even spared him five seconds of her time just threatened to edge him into submission? He has to pinch himself because he must be dreaming....

“Well I-“

“But I don't even think we’d make it that far, hun” you continue, “because in order to humble your egotistical, disrespectful ass, I'm gonna have to ride your face until you suffocate. And when the paramedics come and I have to explain how you died, I won't even hesitate to tell them that you were a punk ass loser who LITERALLY drowned in my pussy!”

You don’t know who this person speaking is, but it is not you. All of the pent up hostility you’ve held towards him just flooded out of you and you couldn’t stop the words from coming out. To be honest you shocked yourself, but you still stood there with your arms crossed and your face unfaltering, just waiting for him to say something smart back.

He stared at you silently, eyes wider than you’ve seen before and his mouth hung slightly open. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with so much fire, but now he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the image you painted came true. His brain said fuck it, and his lips crashed down onto yours. The kiss is sloppy but passionate, and you swore you heard him quietly whimper.

When he feels you starting to kiss back, he smirks into the kiss. Your lips are moving against each other in tandem, and all thoughts about how much you despise the prick fades away. As you uncrossed your arms and placed them on his chest, you could feel his heart beating wildly. Was he as nervous as you were this whole time? You wonder. You knew he was a player, so he was experienced. But the thought that you made him nervous gave you a tiny confidence boost. His hands slowly slide up the sides of your body to sneak behind your back, to pull you further into his chest. As much as your brain was telling you to resist him and push him away, you couldn't help but fall victim to how soft his lips felt against yours. Suddenly you feel airborne as he swiftly reaches down behind your thighs and picks you up. You instinctively gasp but he doesn’t miss a beat, simply biting your lower lip and locking your lips together again.

“Maybe we should test that scenario of yours, and if it comes true, that wouldn’t be the worst way for me to go” he says, doing that annoying but soul-crushingly handsome smirk he likes to wear as he carries you off to your bedroom.

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delicrieux · 4 years

Text

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing. word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years

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Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs

Word Count: 10,705

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”

Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.

“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”

“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.

Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.

“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.

“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.

Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”

Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”

“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.

Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.

Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.

Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.

None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.

You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”

He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”

“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”

A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.

“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”

“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”

“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”

“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”

“I’ll light candles.”

Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.

A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.

This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.

You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.

After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.

For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.

You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.

“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.

You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.

Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”

“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.

“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”

A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.

Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.

Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.

Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.

Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.

“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”

She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.

You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.

The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.

Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.

It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.

Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.

Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.

Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.

Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.

Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.

“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.

Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.

Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.

Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.

Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.

Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.

Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.

Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.

“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”

Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”

“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”

Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.

As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”

Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.

It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.

As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.

Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.

To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.

This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.

Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.

When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.

He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.

Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.

“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”

Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.

Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.

Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long.

Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.

You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.

Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.

By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.

People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.

Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.

The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.

“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”

Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”

“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.

Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”

“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”

“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”

Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”

“Well, I can only assume.”

Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”

“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.

Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.

Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”

Sabrina stared. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”

Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”

Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.

“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”

Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”

Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”

“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected.

Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.

“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”

Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.

“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”

Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.

“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.

You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.

“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”

“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”

Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.

Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”

Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.”

“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”

Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.

Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”

“She did.”

“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”

You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”

While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.

Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.

She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.

Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.

You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.

Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.

Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”

“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.

Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.

“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”

“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.

Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”

Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.

Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.

“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”

“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”

“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”

“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”

“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”

Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.

Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.

“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.

“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”

“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”

“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”

“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”

With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.

Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.

Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.

Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back.

“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked.

You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.

Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”

“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”

Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.

“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”

“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”

Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”

“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”

“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”

You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”

His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”

You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.

“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”

He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.

Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.

“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”

Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”

Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”

“Y/N!”

You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.

“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.

“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”

“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”

Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.

Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”

“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”

Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.

Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”

Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.

“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”

You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.

By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.

You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.

Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.

You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.

Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.

Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.

Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”

Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.

Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.

“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”

Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.

Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.

“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.

Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.

“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.

Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.

“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.

A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.

“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.

Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.

“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.

This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.

“Whoa,” you breathed.

Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.

“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.

“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.

“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.

“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.

“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.

Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”

Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.

“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.

Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.

“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.

“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.

“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”

His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.

“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”

She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.

This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.

You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.

On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.

Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.

Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.

Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.

What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.

Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.

It was impossible.

The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.

You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.

You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.

“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.

Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.

Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.

The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.

Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.

Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.

You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.

Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.

Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.

Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.

Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.

When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.

You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”

“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”

Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”

Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”

The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.

“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”

Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”

“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”

“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”

“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.

Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”

“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”

“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”

“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”

Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”

“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”

“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”

Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.

Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.

Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.

Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”

Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”

After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.

The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.

More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.

Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.

When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin au #bts au #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin series #jimin e2l #bts series #bts e2l #jimin dance au #bts dance au

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glxssylaufey · 3 years

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high by the beach [jonathan pine]

summary: Jonathan Pine x reader ; you are the oldest daughter of Richard Roper. needing an escape from reality, you sneak out to the beach for a quick joint. what you didn’t expect was for Jonathan Pine to catch you.

warnings: smoking weed, age gap (still over 18!) , underaged drinking/smoking, sexual tension

a/u: yes, this is 100% based off the song “high by the beach” by lana del rey :) enjoy!

*°:⋆ₓₒ　ₓₒ⋆:°* *°:⋆ₓₒ　ₓₒ⋆:°* *°:⋆ₓₒ　ₓₒ⋆:°* *°:⋆ₓₒ　ₓₒ⋆:°*

You didn’t belong there, to say the least. You sat alone at a small empty table at one of your father’s late night parties. His parties were always extravagant and flashy. It seemed as if he only threw the parties just to remind everyone how wealthy he is. These events always made your ears ring with annoyance. Summers always felt like this. Your mother would send you and your little brother Danny to visit, but it never seemed like Richard ever has any time for you and your brother.

After finishing yet another glass of champagne, you sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. You still had one year to go before you could legally drink alcohol, though Roper and all his excessive friends never seemed to care. Suddenly, ears perked up upon hearing your name being called.

“Sister! I’ve brought you some sweets!” your little brother Danny called, setting a napkin full of cookies down on the table. You smiled ruffled his brown messy hair.

“That was very kind of you, Danny, thank you.” you laughed, picking up one of the cookies. “Are you having fun?” you asked. His face lit up with excitement.

“Yes, loads!” he confessed. You were glad at least one of you were having fun. “I made a friend yesterday, too.” he said. You raised an eyebrow, trying to remember if you had seen any other children his age here.

“Oh really?” you asked, chewing a bite of cookie. “What’s their name?” Danny’s smile became wider.

“I’ll go fetch him, I want you to meet him!” he said quickly before running off. Before you could open your mouth to protest, he was already gone. You sighed deeply before picking up another cookie, hoping this new friend of Danny’s is an old enough child to understand boundaries and not talk for hours on end.

What you absolutely did not expect was for Danny’s new friend to be a full grown man. A handsome one at that. The man sauntered up to your table holding Danny’s hand, wearing a navy blue suit that hugged his body perfectly. He looked like the perfect gentleman.

“Hi there.” he spoke, voice smooth as silk. “Name’s Jonathan.” he put his hand out to shake yours. You looked up at him, trying to wear your friendliest smile. When you took his hand to shake it, you nearly melted. His grip was firm yet not too tight and you could swear there was electricity coming out of his fingers.

“Pleased to meet you.” you finally said after clearing your throat. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N.” he repeated, testing your name on his tongue. “The pleasure is all mine. Your brother is quite the company.” he chucked, smiling down at Danny. The younger boy beamed proudly, looking back up at you.

“I wanna go look for dad, Y/N.” the young boy said.

“That’s fine.” you said with a nod, leaning back in your chair trying to remain calm. You could still practically feel Jonathan’s eyes roaming all over you.

“Come on, Jonathan!” Danny exclaimed, grabbing the man’s hand again. “Once I’m done we can go play!” this made Jonathan chuckle.

“Why don’t you go on without me for a little, Danny.” he said gently pulling away from your brother’s hand. The boy complied and began to walk after flashing you and Jonathan a smile. You took a deep breath after Danny traveled off while Jonathan pulled a chair up.

“So how is the all famous Y/N Roper doing this fine evening?” Jonathan teased with a chuckle. His words made you blush easily.

“She’s doing just fine.” you said in the best flirtatious tone you could muster. “But she would probably be much better with a refill.” she spoke scooting her empty glass towards Jonathan. He cocked his head at you slightly before standing to his feet, a bit more hesitant than usual.

“Well of course, I am a gentleman.” he joked before grabbing your glass. “So what can I get for you tonight, darling? Water? Punch?” he continued.

“Punch?” you asked nearly offended. “More champagne will do just fine, thank you.”

“Champagne? Danny says you’re only twenty.”

“So?” you ask. “My father doesn’t care if I drink at this age. I also don’t think he’d be very pleased you’re making me wait for a drink.” you said almost in a whisper, the previous alcohol in your system making you confident. You knew your father probably wouldn’t care if Jonathan retrieved a drink for you or not, you only wished to appear authoritative for the upper hand on the man.

“Well, my deepest apologies, Miss Roper.” Jonathan said playfully before shooting you a wink. “One glass of champagne coming right up.”

You giggled as you watched Jonathan walk off to fill your glass. The way he strutted away while his height allowed him to tower over the crowd gave you intense butterflies. You really couldn’t believe you were spending the night flirting with an older gentleman, as proper and handsome as they come. It excited you to no end.

When Jonathan returned back to your table he arrived holding two champagne glasses, one for you and one for him. The two of you continued to talk to allow yourselves to get to know each other. He told you stories of serving in the military and you told him stories of previous summers spent here with Danny. You and Jonathan were quite an attractive pair to be seen and when it ended up catching Frisky’s attention, things took a turn.

Frisky was a smart man. He never failed in intimidating anybody. That’s why Richard Roper put him in charge of keeping an eye on you and Danny to prevent the two of you getting into any trouble. Knowing Jonathan’s flirty antics, Frisky deemed this a solid opportunity to step in.

You caught a quick glimpse of Frisky hastily making his way to your table. You gave a sarcastic deep sigh at him, knowing exactly why he was so worked up. Once the bulky man stopped at your table he crossed his arms and lifted his chin towards Jonathan.

“And what do you think you’re doing, Pine?” he said in a serious tone. Jonathan didn’t seem too phased by him.

“Well, I’m just having a drink here with Miss Y/N.” he replied almost bored.

“Yes, Miss Y/N Roper. I know what you’re up to.” Frisky snapped.

“Frisky, please!” you interrupted. “I’m a grown woman, if you should be babysitting any of my father’s family it should be Danny.” you argued with him. Though Frisky was stubborn.

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N. Pine, get up.” he waved his hands at Jonathan. “Go find Danny and put him to bed, it’s late.” he demanded. Jonathan didn’t put up any further struggle. He calmly rose from his chair and took one last sip of his champagne. He then gave you a gentle smile and bowed his head.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N.” he said sweetly.

“Thank you, Jonathan.” you nodded. As he walked away with Frisky you sank in your chair slightly before sighing. ‘Well there goes that excitement.’ you thought. You were growing quite tired of your father and his men treating you like a mere child when you’re an adult. Standing front your seat, you finish off your glass before storming off to your room. At this point, the party just felt like an inconvenience.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Your eyes felt heavy with sleep by the time you were sure everyone had gone to bed. Though you were in dire need of rest, you couldn’t seem to relax. It was 1 a.m. and you decided to settle your nerves with a late night walk. The punishments for being caught were severe but you were confident in yourself to know you wouldn’t be caught.

You quickly packed a small bag for your walk, including a jacket along with your stash of three joint of weed and a lighter. You always enjoyed a quick light up when you felt a bit tense. You tip toed silently down the stairs and out the back doors. From the pool’s patio, you had a beautiful view of the ocean. You decided to walk down to take your quick walk in the beach.

After successfully sneaking through the large property you finally found a spot to relax on the vast beach. There was a full moon illuminating the night sky, allowing you good skylight in the darkness. You sat down upon the sand close to the shore and opened up your bag. You wrapped your jacket around you to act as a blanket in the wind. Then you lastly picked a slim joint out of your bag along with a small yellow lighter. You clicked the lighter and put the flame towards the end your joint to burn the end. Afterwards you put the joint between your lips and took a deep drag. Inhaling the smoke, you closed your eyes and felt the wind blow against your skin. You began to relish in the light headed feeling as your body began to relax. After an exhale, you began to take another puff.

“Excuse me?”

You jumped upon hearing a voice next to you. You looked up at the figure above you, only to find the one and only Jonathan Pine standing talk above you. You quickly exhaled the smoke and attempted to hide the joint.

“What are you doing at this hour?” Jonathan asked you in a slightly hushed tone.

“I could ask you the same.” you stated sitting up straighter.

“Couldn’t sleep. Just wanted to get some fresh air.” he calmly explained. He was wearing a fitted t-shirt and grey sweatpants with his blonde curls a bit of a mess. It was definitely quite the outfit change from the party but he still managed to be probably the most attractive man you’ve seen.

He looked out to the waves for a second before bringing his gaze back to you. He gave you a shy smile before speaking again.

“May I join you?” he asked politely. You were relieved when you realized he wasn’t going to snitch to your father about sneaking out or drag you to his room. So you moved your backpack and pat on the sand beside you.

“Of course.” you replied. He sank down to the ground and got comfortable in his spot. There was a bit of silence with nothing but the sound of waves crashing in the night. After a couple seconds you placed your lit joint back between your lips to take a puff. Jonathan watched with a smile.

“Weed?” he asked with curiosity. He wore a smile that told you you didn’t have to hide it from him.

“Yeah.” you admitted. “It helps me relax.” you said turning to look at him. He chuckled a little while shaking his head.

“My my, little Miss Roper. First we drink champagne at the party underaged and now you’re smoking marijuana?” he mocked a tsk and winked. “You’re a very naughty girl, Y/N.” he said darkly.

You giggled and blushed profusely at his comment and you could feel your heart begin to race.

“I’d love to.” he said before taking the items from your fingers. “Would you help me, darling?” he asked handing you the lighter. You accepted with a playful smirk. Once he placed the joint between his lips you raised the flame to meet it’s end. He inhaled deep, expertly intaking the smoke. He held his breath before blowing out the smoke into the wind. He chuckled lightly before taking the joint from his mouth.

“Do you want to join me? I have an extra.” you offered with a smile. Jonathan smiled at you, watching as you pulled out a second joint and your lighter. He hesitated to answer at first, making you think he would decline. You were pleasantly surprised with his answer.

“Good?” you asked with a smile.

“Very.” he laughed, his head falling back slightly.

You both continued to laugh, the two of you already buzzed. Jonathan took another drag of his joint before clearing his throat.

“We should do this more often.” he joked, leaning into you slightly. You laughed and took another hit.

“What? Sneak out and get high?” you asked. Jonathan scoffed while tapping some ash off his joint.

“Technically, you’re the one sneaking out. I’m allowed to be out here, I’m an adult.” he teased. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m an adult too, I don’t care what you think.” you sassed back. Jonathan raised an eyebrow at you.

“You know what I really think?” he asked, his voice deepening. You shivered at his tone, looking up to meet his bright blue eyes, finding his face much closer to yours.

“What?” you asked.

“I think you’re beautiful.” he whispered in your ear before looking down for your reaction. You could feel your face heating up from his comment. Jonathan’s cologne overtook your senses as you leaned in closer to him.

“I think you’re high.” you replied, breaking into laughter. Jonathan chuckled before raising his head.

“Yes, but you are too.” he said. You opened your mouth to speak but before you could protest Jonathan’s lips crashed against yours. You melted into him, deepening the kiss. Jonathan pulled away before looking into your slightly red eyes.

“Jonathan Pine, you are exquisite” you sighed, before bringing your lips back to his. The kiss was more passionate this time, the both of you relishing in the taste of each other and the euphoria of your high. Everything felt so perfect. Jonathan laced his fingers into your hair, making you whimper. You broke the kiss with the older man, allowing both you and him to breath. Jonathan lifted your chin with a finger, raking his blue eyes all over you.

“And you, Y/N Roper, are perfection itself.”

#aesthetic #tom hiddleston #thomas william hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #fanfiction #the night manager #jonathan pine #jonathan pine fanfiction #jonathan pine x reader #tom hiddleston x reader #fanfic

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biisexualemma · 4 years

Text

second best. cesar diaz

word count: 1642

warnings: alcohol abuse and lots of tears

requested: uh no another one from the archives

plot: cesar always picks monse over you

a/n: wow am i actually posting an imagine for an omb character that isn’t oscar???? pls note **all characters are of age** thank u hope u like

masterlist

you stumbled forward, tripping over your own feet on the way to the bathroom. jasmine, grabbed your arm, stopping your from falling flat on your face. you were such a mess. you didn't think you'd ever been that drunk before. but once you'd started you couldn't slow down.

jasmine had been keeping an eye on you all night, making sure you didn't get into any trouble but it was hard. you were all over the place. dancing. drinking. sitting. talking. you moved around quicker than she could keep up with. you were trying to forget about him, she knew that, so she let you drink yourself silly. but she didn't want you to get hurt in the process. you were pretty emotionally unstable.

he'd chosen her over you again. story of your life. you loved monse, which made it even harder for you to be mad at her. cesar on the other hand, you were ready to throw hands in you saw him again tonight. he played around with you so much it hurt. you'd been crushing on him for so long and he showed signs too. but he always chose monse over you. you could never compete. it broke your heart.

hence the alcohol.

but it was catching up with you. you entered the bathroom, jasmine quickly pulling your hair out of your face and tying it back. you were now kneeling on the bathroom floor with your head in the toilet as you threw up everything that was in your system.

tears formed in your eyes when you slumped back against the bath, wiping the sides of your mouth. you were a mess. "i just don't understand," you cried softly. jasmine wrapped her arm around you, letting you rest your head on her shoulder. she was a good friend, no matter what anyone said. "why doesn't he want me?"

she shushed you, tightening her grip on you as you cried into her shoulder. "he doesn't deserve you. mami, you deserve so much better than him," she tried to reassure you. you knew she was right. but this was cesar, he'd been your friend for years, there was no one better than him. he was the nicest guy you knew. he always walked you home, helped you study, hung out with you when you were sad. he did all of this and more but he would never choose you over monse. you didn't want him to pick anyone over anyone. you just wanted him to pick you.

he'd always made it seem that he felt more for you than just a friend, he treated you different to how he treated his other friends. it made no sense. you cried out of frustration. you felt pretty battered and weak at this point, you just wanted to go home.

you sniffled, composing yourself after you'd let yourself have a good cry. you needed that. you needed to get it all out.

"hey—" your head snapped to the unlocked bathroom door, where ruby and jamal now stood after barging in. they must have seen you and jasmine come in here earlier. "woah— what happened?" their demeanours both changed quickly when they saw your sad face and jasmine glaring at them to watch what they said.

"nothing," you wiped under your eyes, though it was hard to disguise what had happened. you stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. your mascara had smudged under your puffy eyes and your cheeks were pink and wet. you sighed. "i'm gonna go home."

jasmine handed you a wipe, and you began cleaning yourself up. you suddenly felt incredibly sober. you wiped under your eyes, and took off the little makeup you had on. you splashed your face with cold water and downed some mouthwash. you didn't think ruby would mind since this was his house.

"y'sure you don't wanna talk about it?" jamal piped up. they had all stood outside while you got yourself together. you nodded upon exiting the bathroom. "we can walk you home."

you shook your head. "it's ok. i need to be by myself."

"ok. i get it. but you can be by yourself with us, girl, 'cause you're not walking yourself home. it's late,” jasmine chimed in. ruby and jamal agreed, and soon enough they were all walking you back to your house. they all chattered, trying to take your mind off things but you remained in a quiet little bubble, drowning out any noise they were making. you appreciated them doing this but you weren't up to talking. you just wanted to get home and climb into bed.

"hey—" you'd been so in a daze you hadn't noticed cesar walking towards you guys. he was puffed out, like he'd been running here. he glanced at you quickly, his eyebrows furrowing slightly when he saw your face. but he quickly averted his attention back to the group. "did i miss the party already?" he joked.

ruby explained that they were walking you home, not giving any further details. "you can go to the house. we'll be back soon."

"uh— no— i'll come with," you all continued walking to your house. you remained silent. you couldn't look at him again. you could already feel yourself getting worked up.

you felt a hand touch your arm, pulling you back from the group who carried on walking. jasmine gave you a quick glance to make sure you were good. you gave her a reassuring nod before turning to see cesar in front of you.

"are you ok?" he furrowed his eyebrows again. his concern becoming immediate now he'd pulled you from the rest of the group. as best as you had tried to clean yourself up, you couldn't control your pink cheeks and puffy eyes. but you really didn't wanna talk about it, especially with him.

"fine," you nodded. you carried on walking with him beside you now. your voice was a little groggy but you cleared your throat hoping he wouldn't notice. "how's monse?"

"you sure?" he was watching you as you walked next to him, trying not to look at him for too long. "you're quiet."

you just nodded. "you didn't answer my question."

he was confused. "she's— she's fine. something came up with her mom— but i don't understand— have you been crying?" he grabbed your arm, stopping you from walking. you ducked your head.

"i don't wanna talk about it—"

you tried to walk on but he grabbed your hand quickly pulling you back. "no— wait— tell me what happened— please,” he squeezed your hand tight, still holding on. he looked you over, not seeing any obvious signs that you were hurt. something must of happened, he thought, it hurt to see you like this. you were pretty strong person usually, you didn't cry very often and never in front of anyone.

"i said i don't wanna talk about it, cesar."

"hey," he used his free hand to touch your chin, tilting your head up so you would look at him. "you can tell me anything."

you shook your head, taking a step backwards. you pulled your hand away from his, you felt tears brimming your eyes. you wanted to hate him so badly for making you this demented. he doesn't deserve you, you repeated to yourself. but it made no difference, it still hurt.

"it's not fair," you whimpered. cesar's face contorted from a look of confusion, to hurt. he just wanted to help. "you know i love you, cesar— you know it," your eyebrows knitted, trying to stop yourself from crying again. he really hurt you. nothing mattered at this point. none of the secrecy. "and i can't hang around waiting for you to pick me."

"what?" was all he said. he tried to reach out but you flinched away. you didn't want him to reel you in again, this was his last chance. "pick you?"

"i can't be second best to monse for the rest of my life," his face softened. he understood. "if you want to be with her, please just tell me instead of stringing me along like this," it hurt watching you talk like this. a couple stray tears had slipped from your eyes but you quickly wiped them away.

he just stared at you for a moment, careful as to what he was going to say. "it's always been you," he shook his head, stepping closer to you. you didn't move. "monse and i are just friends. we've been through a lot together— but y/n— you're it. you're before anyone else. i promise."

you took a deep shaky breath in. it was everything you'd ever wanted to hear from him but you couldn't ignore the facts. "tonight— i wanted you here but you chose monse over me."

he frowned. "she needed me—"

"i needed you, cesar."

he was quiet. he couldn't ignore the tears in your eyes that were falling frequently now.

"hey— please— don't cry—" he gulped. he thought if you cried anymore that he might start crying. he wrapped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his chest before you could pull away. you sunk into his chest, letting him wrap both arms around you tightly. "i'm sorry— i didn't realise you needed me tonight— i really— i'm sorry."

"i don't wanna hurt you, y/n," he tucked his face into your neck. "i care about you."

you sniffled, pulling away slightly to look up at him. "then don't make me feel like this again— i hate it." you wiped under your eyes again, sniffling as you calmed down a bit.

"never again," he tightened his grip on you. "promise,” he meant it too. nothing hurt more than seeing you so upset over something he'd done to you unknowingly. "love you," he mumbled, pressing his lips atop your head.

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Present from Sakamaki [PART 1]

ー The scene starts in the classroom

Health committee member (1): ーー There we go. That should conclude the check-up.

Yui: Thank you. Phew...

( Hm...I wonder if it’s because I’ve been having my blood sucked, but my weight has gone down a little. )

( I don’t know whether I should be happy or sad...It’s a complicated feeling. )

Health committee member: Is something the matter?

Yui: Ah, no. This is my health report card.

Health committee member: Yes, thank you very much. (2) ーー Ah.

Yui: ...? Is something wrong?

Health committee member: Oh no, that’s not it.

Here...Your date of birth. It’s your birthday tomorrow, isn’t it?

Yui: Ah, now that you mention it...

Health committee member: I’m one day early, but congratulations!

Yui: ( I honestly didn’t think I’d have anyone congratulate me for my birthday after moving to this city. )

Thank you very much. I’m so haーー

*Rattle*

Laito: Nfu, Bitch-chan~! Laito-kun’s here to pick you up~!

Yui: Laito-kun...!

Kanato: You’re late. What were you doing? You really are such a slowpoke.

Yui: K-Kanato-kun as well...

I’m sorry for keeping you guys waiting. The examination has finished already so let’s go.

Laito: By the way, Bitch-chan~? What did you hand over to the lady just now~?

*Flip*

Health committee member: Eh? Ahーー!

Yui: L-Laito-kun! Y-You can’t!

Laito: Aah~ Right, they took body measurements today, no?

Yui: I’m begging you, don’t look...!

Laito: Hm...? Oh dear, oh dear, what do we have here...? I see...~��

Yui: Geez, Laito-kun...!

*Flip*

Laito: Well, I’m not really interested in this stuff so I’ll be nice and hand it back. More importantly, let’s hurry back home.

Yui: ( Thank god. He handed it back right away... )

U-Um...By the way, where’s Ayato-kun?

Laito: The・truth・is...~ He got such a bad grade on his test this morning.

So he got called over to the faculty room~

*Rattle*

Ayato: ...The fuck?

Laito: Ah, well done getting through the teachers’ scolding~! We were just talking about you.

Ayato: Che...The fuck’s their problem? They kept on naggin’ at me just ‘cause I didn’t get the best score.

Kanato: You reap what you sow. If only you were intelligent like we are, you poor thing.

Ayato: Aah!? You two aren’t much better, are you!?

Laito: Eh~~? We’re not on your level.

Kanato: You had a single-digit number, right? Please do not group us together.

Ayato: Che...

Yui: U-Um, Ayato-kun. Please don’t beat yourself up over it...

Ayato: Fuck off! Come on, Chichinashi. We’re goin’ home already!!

Yui: Y-Yeah...!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the limousine

Reiji: Haah...Because of you lot, we are running horribly late.

Yui: ( Uu...I’m pretty sure I informed him of today’s physical examination before we left for school today though... )

Reiji: For one, people such as you lot who fail to stick to a time schedule on a regular basis, will surely experience problems in your daily life as weーー

*Rustle*

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi. Give me your blood once we get home, ‘kay?

This irritated feelin’ is makin’ me thirsty, so I’ll suck you plenty.

Kanato: Could you not just decide that by yourself?

I am just as irritated because you kept us waiting.

I will be sucking her blood first once we get home. Right, Teddy...?

Ayato: Ah? Excuse me...?

Laito: Nfu~ Bitch-chan’s blood, how nice. I’m hungry as well, so why don’t we equally split it amongst us three?

Reiji: ...Haah...I wonder how I got stuck with a bunch of stubborn fools who refuse to listen to what someone is saying...

Shuu: ...

Reiji: ...That being said, I suppose they are still better than the guy who falls asleep before he can even listen at all...

This good-for-nothing...!

Yui: ( R-Reiji-san... )

I-I’m sorry. It’s my fault we were running late. We had a physical check-up today and...

Since I’ve been a little anemic, it took slightly longer than I expected...

Subaru: Hm? ...Oi, have you really been feelin’ anemic?

Yui: Yeah...

( Could he be worried about me...? )

Subaru: I don’t give a damn ‘bout what happens to you...But it’d suck if you’d run dry of blood. Make sure that stuff gets replenished, ‘kay?

Yui: R-Right...

Reiji: Exactly. Your blood is the only value you hold after all.

Yui: ( Of course. That’s all I’m good for to them. )

( What made me think they’d be worried about me...? )

( I should know that already but...For some reason, it makes me a little sad. )

Laito: ...Nfu~

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s bedroom

Yui: Phew...Somehow I’m really exhausted today...

Tomorrow’s a free day, so I’ll hit the hay early and spend some nice, quiet time.

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Tomorrow’s my birthday, huh...? I wonder if I’ll be able to head out somewhere...? )

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Laito: Attention please~! Thank you all for gathering here on this fine evening~!

Ayato: ...Geez, what do you suddenly want? I was thinkin’ of droppin’ by Chichinashi’s room for a sip of blood.

Kanato: My poor Teddy had his snacks stolen by Laito, you know...!? I won’t forgive you if you made me come here for nothing!!

Subaru: Che...

Shuu: ...Pwaah...Sleepy.

Reiji: ...Now this is unexpected. I did not think you and Subaru would show up as well.

Shuu: No...I was already taking a nap here when you guys just started gathering one after the other.

Laito: Nfu~ I plotted this get-together immaculately, no~?

Reiji: ...I suppose one could say you used your brain for once, Laito.

ーー So, what is this about? Please stop beating around the bush, and explain to us what is going on.

Subaru: It better not be some bullshit or you’re not gettin’ away with it!

Laito: Hm~ Thank you for your typical input, Subaru-kun~ However, I’m pretty sure you’re going to love hearing about this?

Kanato: What do you have to tell us then!?

Laito: You see, it happens to be Bitch-chan’s birthday tomorrow~

Ayato: Ah? Birthday?

Laito: Yes, exactly!

So...I figured we would all throw a surprise birthday party for her!

Subaru: Ah!? Who in their right mind would waste their fuckin’ time on somethin’ so ridiculous!?

Laito: Oh come on~ I mean, she’s always giving us her delicious blood, no?

Ayato: ‘Giving’, my ass! It belongs to me either way.

Laito: Relax! That’s not what matters right now!

I don’t think it would hurt to show our gratitude and do something in return for once though~

Kanato: Surprise birthday party...

Ayato: Keh. Why do we have to show our gratitude? She’s our prey!

Laito: Eeeh~~~? I thought it’d be fun though. I mean, if none of you are up for it, I guess I’ll drop the ideaー

Don’t you think you’d get to indulge in plenty of takoyaki or sweets? It is a birthday party after all.

Ayato: ...

Kanato: ...

Laito: But well, seems like I’m out of luck, so I suppose I’ll have to give up~

Kanato: Please wait. I cannot possibly turn down an opportunity to eat sweets.

Ayato: I’m in too! Let’s prepare a whole mountain of takoyaki and throw this party!!

Laito: Nfu...~ Now that’s sounding more like a proper celebration.

Reiji: Haah...I feel ashamed having to call those three my brothers...

Shuu: ...Who cares. Just do as you please...

Ayato: Stop complainin’ if you’re not even gonna join in. That only means there will be more food for me, so don’t even bother showin’ up!

Kanato: Agreed. You won’t join either, Subaru?

Subaru: No way in hell I’m botherin’ with that annoyin’ crap!

Laito: Hm~ I would have loved it if we could all participate though. You’re skipping out as well, Reiji?

Reiji: Well, under normal circumstances, I would never consider taking part in such nonsense. Howeverーー

It cannot be denied that she has been donating her blood to us.

Furthermore, I cannot see things ending well if the three of you combine forces.

Worst-case scenario, the whole manor will be blown into the air...Which would be highly troublesome, so I shall participate to keep an eye on things.

Ayato: Keh, there you go talkin’ shit ‘bout us again.

Laito: Well, I guess the four of us will celebrate Bitch-chan’s birthday together then.

Reiji: Halt. Do you truly believe that I can supervise all three of you just by myself?

Laito: I’m pretty sure we don’t need someone keeping an eye on us though~?

Reiji: I am not that naive to fall for those words.

I am using my veto to impose mandatory participation on every member of this household, understood?

Subaru: Haah!? What gives you the right to do that!?

Reiji: Do you have any idea how much I look after all of you on a daily basis?

Subaru: Aah!? Fuck do I know!? Besides, we never asked you to do that shit, nor do we actively try and trouble you!?

Reiji: I suppose those being looked after do not realize how privileged they are themselves. ...That good-for-nothing over there is a prime example of that.

Shuu: ...

Reiji: Better be safe than sorry. You shall participate to protect the manor.

Shuu: Ahー ...What a drag. Fine, so just shut up already...

Reiji: Very well. Well then, Subaru. You will join in as well, no?

Subaru: Hell no.

Laito: Oh come on, why not~? You should join the fun as well. It’s not like you get the chance every day? Right?

If you continue to be stubbornー...

Nfu~ We’ll hold the party over at your room, okay?

Subaru: Haah!? No fuckin’ way!!

Laito: Perfect! That means everyone’s in!

Subaru: Oi!! Don’t make that choice for me!

Laito: Eeh~~? But then we’ll throw the party in your room though? Are you fine with that?

Ayato: Actually, didn’t you lose your temper the other day and busted another hole through the wall?

Shuu: Haha...Taking a nap while enjoying the night breeze honestly isn’t that bad though...

Subaru: ...Don’t come here to sleep...

...Fuck...! You guys better don’t make me do all of the shitty tasks!

Reiji: Well then, I suppose that wraps up this discussion. As for what we need to prepare, the obvious things would be...

Ayato: Takoyaki, duh!

Kanato: I want to eat a cake covered in whipped cream with a bunch of large strawberries on top!

Reiji: Those are the things you guys want to eat, no? We should at least try and consider what she likes.

Ayato: Ah? What are you sayin’? We’re already doin’ plenty by celebrating her birthday, no?

Laito: They say it’s the sentiment which counts, right?

Reiji: Guh...I am baffled to hear something sensical come from you lot’s mouths for once.

Kanato: So, what exactly do I need to do to get my strawberry cake?

Subaru: ...Aren’t we kind of missin’ the point now?

Laito: Oh well, wasn’t there this one important guy who said that participating is more important than winning?

...That being said, let’s go shopping for all the foods we want to eat!

Kanato: I don’t mind if you go buy it for me, but it better be delicious.

Subaru: Then go buy it yourself!

Kanato: Me? Going grocery shopping? Why would I bother doing something so troublesoーー

Right...In one of the books I read in the past, it said that a birthday cake is best when homemade.

I can put on as much whipped cream as I like, before decorating it with a bunch of strawberries...Fufu, my own exclusive cake.

Haah...Just imagining it is making my mouth water...I’ve decided. I will make a delicious cake.

Reiji: Not in my book.

Kanato: Why do I need your permission? I decided I will make it, so it’s already settled.

Ayato: Oh, sounds kinda interestin’! In that case, I’m gonna try my hand at some homemade takoyaki as well!

Reiji: You make it sound so easy...Do you truly believe you can pull it off?

Shuu: Haah. This situation is steadily going downhill...

Laito: Nfu~ Homemade, huh? It’s starting to sound more and more like a real birthday party.

Reiji: Laito, why are you pretending as if you take no responsibility in this?

You are the one who brought up the idea in the first place, so you should make sure things are kept in check.

Laito: Eh~~~? But that’s what you’re here for, no?

Ayato: ...So, what else needs to get done?

Kanato: You aren’t thinking of making us do all the work, right?

Reiji: Of course. For one...

I have yet to hear of a birthday party with only takoyaki and a cake.

Ayato: Haah? What’s so bad about that?

Reiji: It is a day on which humans celebrate their very short life, so do you not believe there should be a diverse, luxurious buffet as you would see at evening galas or dinner banquets?

Kanato: I do remember how noisy those evening parties would be. However, I am not interested in anything besides the cake.

Reiji: ...Haah, you are only thinking of your own gain. Truly what one would expect from you lot.

Ayato: I mean, I doubt Chichinashi will enjoy it, unless we’re having fun as well!

Subaru: Che...Ridiculous...

Reiji: Good grief...I suppose I have no other choice. In that case, I shall be in charge of making the main course...

Laito: In that case, I’ll help out Ayato-kun~ Making takoyaki sounds kind of fun, to be honest.

Shuu: Pwaaah~ ...Doesn’t seem like there’s anything I need to do...

Reiji: You shall keep an eye on her to ensure she does not leave her room.

It is a trivial task, perfect for someone like you, no?

Shuu: ...Che...What a chore...

Subaru: Haah, whatever.

Reiji: Subaru, you will be doing your fair share as well.

Subaru: Haah!?

Reiji: Do you truly believe I can trust Kanato by himself in the kitchen? Make sure to keep an eye on him.

Subaru: Why me!?

Reiji: Since you are the only one still left without a task, obviously?

I expect you to put your life on the line to ensure the kitchen does not go up in flames.

Subaru: Annoyin’...

Laito: Okaay~! Well then everyone, off we go! (3)

*TIMESKIP*

Ayato: Oi, Reiji! Step back! I gotta be the one walkin’ in front!

Reiji: Pipe down, Ayato.

Kanato: Good grief...I cannot stand all this noise. Say, you feel so too, don’t you, Teddy...?

Subaru: We’re not lil’ children anymore, so wouldn’t it have been better if just one of us did the shoppin’ by themselves...?

Laito: Oh come on, don’t you think it’s fun to all go grocery shopping together for once~?

Subaru: ...Che. Don’t talk to me as if we’re buds.

Reiji: ...Hm? Everyone, wait one second.

I cannot see Shuu anywhere around?

Subaru: Haah? Who cares? He’s probably snoozin’ again somewhere.

Reiji: Good grief...Here I thought he was actually joining without any protests for once, but there he goes acting off his own accord again...Truly infuriating.

Even though we have to ensure we are back at the manor by the time she wakes upーー

Ayato: Oh! They’ve got a takoyaki grill! Laito! Let’s go check it out!

Laito: Huh~? But don’t we already have one of those?

Ayato: Ah? Like I know where to find that thing. It’d be too much trouble lookin’ for it.

Laito: Good point! Let’s go have a look then!

ー The two of them enter a store

Reiji: Ah, halt! We should stick to the planning and only visit the necessary stoーー

Kanato: I simply cannot spend another minute with this rowdy bunch.

I will go my own way, so come look for me if you need me.

ー Kanato leaves as well

Reiji: Hey! Where are you going, Kanato!? I will not let this selfish behavior slide!

Haah...

Shuu: Pwaah...Like this, I can’t relax no matter where I go...

Reiji: You good-for-nothing...You shamelessly come walking up to me and that’s the first thing you say...?

Shuu: Nn...I’ll be over on that bench over there, so just come wake me up once you’re done shopping...

Reiji: At this point, your laziness has surpassed the point of being disappointing, it almost feels refreshing.

Shuu: Thanks for the compliment...Sleepy...

ー Shuu steps away

Reiji: It honestly is not even worth insulting him...

Subaru: Haah...The fuck is this farce? I want to go back home...

*SCENE SHIFT*

Ayato: Oi, Laito! Do you know what ingredients we need to make takoyaki?

Laito: It’s called takoyaki, so octopus is a given, right?

Ayato: I know that much as well!

But I want to make takoyaki like nobody has ever tasted before!

I’m gonna make so many of them, they’ll pile up all the way to the ceiling!

Laito: Nfu~ Sounds like something you would do. In that case, we need to stock up on plenty of ingredients.

Ayato: Yeah! We’ve got plenty of people with us to carry the bags!

Laito: If we’re going through the trouble of making them, it’d be a little dull to stick to normal takoyaki, right? ...Ah, how about this?

Ayato: Wasabi? Whatcha gonna do with that?

Laito: Fufufu, that’s something to look forward to at the party.

Ayato: ...This and these, also those over there...

Laito: Let’s put them all in our basket! I’m so excited, nfu~

*SCENE SHIFT*

Reiji: Honestly those triplets, always doing as they please...

Subaru, wait right here. I will go call them.

Subaru: Haah!? Why do I have to...Wait, oi!

ー Reiji leaves

Subaru: ...Haah. This grocery run is fucked up.

Shuu: ...

Subaru: This guy is seriously out here snoozin’...

Shuu: ...Shut up. I’m still awake.

Subaru: The fuck!? You’re actually awake...

Shuu: Haah...I just don’t want to move because it’s too much of a chore...

Subaru: Then why did you even join us in the first place...

Shuu: I could ask you the exact same thing...Pwaah...

Subaru: ...Che.

ー Subaru starts walking away

Shuu: ...Oh? Going home?

Subaru: Shut up. Leave me alone.

ー Subaru leaves

Shuu: ...

*SCENE SHIFT*

Subaru: ...

Kanato: Aah, as if on cue. Subaru.

Subaru: Che, goin’ home now after he said that just doesn’t sit right with me...

Kanato: Subaru.

Subaru: That bein’ said, I don’t want to just have to stand there and play supervisor either. I’m goin’ home because I want to.

Kanato: Subaru!

*Rustle*

Subaru: Ow, the fuck you doin’, bastard!?

Kanato: How many times do I have to call you before you come? Are those ears there just for decoration?

Subaru: Ah? I filter out that annoyin’ voice of yours.

So, what do you want?

Kanato: I’ve settled on the ingredients I want for the cake. Please carry the basket and follow me.

Subaru: Haah!? Why do I have to act as your personal carrier!? I was just ‘bout to head home!!

Kanato: What are you saying? The two of us are in charge of preparing the cake together, so it only makes sense for you to help out, no?

Subaru: You’re the one who wants to make that damn thing, aren’t you? Then shouldn’t you be carrying the basket yourself?

Kanato: I’m already holding Teddy. How am I supposed to do that?

Subaru: Aah!? I’m gonna punch you, you bastard!

Kanato: Punch me? You’ll ignore my request and hit me...? Even though you’re the one just standing around there, doing absolutely nothing?

Yet you trample all over my generous attempts to try and help you be useful...Who do you think you are!?

If you fail to understand that, then why don’t you punch yourself on the head instead? Come on, hurry up and do it!

Subaru: Haah...Shut up. Ahー Fine! I just have to carry your stuff, right?

Kanato: Hmph. ...You should have just done so from the very start. Right, Teddy...?

Subaru: Fuck off! I’m comin’ so shut up and show me the way!

Kanato: Fufu, it’s this way.

Subaru: Honestly...I seriously should have never tagged along...Fuck.

*SCENE SHIFT*

Reiji: ...That’s...

Subaru: ...

Reiji: Subaru. Why are you here?

Did I not tell you to wait by that bench over there earlier?

Subaru: Ah, geez! Stop naggin’ at me this whole time! I can go wherever I want!

Reiji: Do you not think you are at fault for not simply saying no earlier? Honestly, it’s always the youngest ones that cause trouble...

Subaru: Oi, you jerk. What didya say just now!?

Reiji: I only stated the truth. So, why are you on the move?

I gave you that task because I figured you would not want to have to walk around.

Take a look! I have brought Ayato and Laito along with me.

Ayato: Ah?

Laito: Nfu~ You’re talking about us as if we’re your luggage~

Subaru: Not my fault! I’m not doin’ this ‘cause I want to! If you want to complain, then complain to Kanato instead!

Kanato: We’re going to buy the ingredients for the cake. You really are the very definition of a creep, trying to track my every move.

Reiji: ...

Ayato: Oi, Four-Eyes. I know what I wanna buy so gimme some cash.

Reiji: You sure have some nerve to ask me for money after you have been doing nothing but acting selfishly this whole time. Do you really think you can get away with that!?

Ayato: Ah? Why are you snappin’ at me? You’re such a cheapskate.

Kanato: Exactly. Why do you not try and keep your calm a little?

Laito: Nfu~ Perhaps you’re running a little low on calcium~? (4)

Reiji: ...

Subaru: ...

Reiji: ...Very well. Just do as you please. However, I do not intend to give you lot a single yen.

ー Reiji leaves

Ayato: Ah! Oi, wait! ...O-Oi, do any of you guys have some cash?

Kanato: Are you dumb? Why would I have money on me?

Subaru: Oi, what are we gonna do...

Laito: This is your fault, Ayato! Go apologize to Reiji!

Ayato: Haah!? Why do I have to say sorry!?

Kanato: That’s easy. Because you’re to blame for everything.

Ayato: Haah!? He was upset with you as well!

Laito: In that case, the two of you should go say sorry.

Kanato: Why are you trying to escape the blame when you’re the one who was together with Ayato in the first place?

Ayato: I’m never apologizin’!

Laito: Get going, you two.

Kanato: I’m not going either!

Subaru: Ahー God! Stop the damn arguin’! All three of you should go apologize!

Ayato: Why do I have to!?

Laito: Ehー?

Kanato: Under no circumstances!

Shuu: You guys are way too loud...You’re practically shouting for the whole store.

Pwaah...That being said...You’re still not done...?

*TIMESKIP*

Subaru: ーー There you have it. So Reiji, just give in already.

At this rate, we’ll never make it back to the manor.

Reiji: Even so, I cannot give in now.

Subaru: ...

Reiji: ーー However, right...I suppose I shall show my gratitude and let it slide this once. Although I have yet to hear an apology.

Ayato: What is this Four-Eyes goin’ on ‘bout?

Reiji: If you continue to call me that, I would not mind just heading home straight away.

Ayato: Che...

Reiji: Hmph...

Subaru, I will be joining the three of them.

Meanwhile you will go look for Shuu so the two of you can purchase the ingredients I need for my own dish.

Subaru: ...Hah? Why not just buy them yourself?

Reiji: Perhaps try using that brain of yours a little and you will realize that it is simply impossible to look for the items on my own list while also keeping an eye on those triplets at the same time.

Above all, I want to ensure that good-for-nothing at least does something as well.

Subaru: I don’t get it. I’m not doin’ anythin’, understood?

Kanato: How can you be so selfish?

Ayato: Exactly! Are you goin’ to ruin this whole thing ‘cause you’re being a selfish prick?

Laito: Reiji’s mood finally improved, but now Subaru-kun’s going to ruin it again?

Subaru: Fuck...What is your problem!?

Laito: It’s easy, no? If Reiji doesn’t give us any money.

We can’t buy the stuff we need for Bitch-chan’s birthday party, right? Ah-ah, I’m sure she would have been so happy as well.

Subaru: ...

Che...I just have to go buy that shit, right!?

*Flip*

Reiji: Very well. I have written down everything with the exact quantities I need on this note.

Subaru: ...You nitpicker.

Reiji: It would be bad to overbuy, no? Please call it effective instead.

I will pay for all ingredients together, so please wait in front of the cashier once you’re done.

*Rustle*

Subaru: ...Hmph.

ー Subaru walks off with the memo

*SCENE SHIFT*

Subaru: Shuu!! Wake up!

Shuu: How could I sleep under these circumstances...? You guys are really noisy...

Subaru: I have to go through this shit ‘cause you were loafin’ ‘round! Now get up and make yourself useful!

Shuu: ...Haah...Guess I have no other choice. I heard most of the conversation earlier, so I’ll make an effort to move today...

Nn...So, what do we have to buy...?

Subaru: This.

*Rustle*

Shuu: Haah, that’s quite the list...Subaru, you carry the basket.

Subaru: Haah!? You can go get it yourself, no!? Why is it always me!?

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ...Nn...

( I wonder when I last got such a good night’s rest? )

( Usually, someone always barged in to suck my blood the second I try to go to bedーー )

*BOOM*

Yui: W-What was that!?

( That sound just now...I didn’t just imagine it, right? )

*BOOM*

Yui: A-Again!? Also, I can smell something burnt as well...

( I-Is everyone okay...? I should go check up on the situation... )

ー Yui tries to leave her room

Shuu: ...

Yui: ...S-Shuu-san! What is happening!?

( Why is Shuu-san lying on the floor in the middle of the hallway...!? )

*BOOM*

Yui: Another explosion...!?

Shuu-san, wake up please! ...Shuu-san!

( Oh no...He’s not waking up at all. There might actually be something wrong with him... )

Um, Shuu-san...! P-Please wait right here! I’ll go call someone else!

*Rustle*

Shuu: ...Shut up. ...Oh, it’s you.

Yui: Shuu-san...!

( T-Thank god. He was just asleep... )

Shuu: ...My muscles are sore...

Yui: Geez, it’s because you slept on the ground. More importantly, why are you here?

Shuu: Ahー... I have no other choice, do I? ...I have to keep an eye on you...

Yui: ...?

Shuu: ...No, it’s nothing.

*BOOM*

Yui: ( ...!! )

U-Um...Do you have any idea what these loud blasts are about...?

Shuu: Hm? Aah...You’re just hearing things. Now hurry back to your roomーー

*BOOM*

Shuu: ...

Yui: That sound again...!!

Shuu: ...Guess we’re not using the kitchen for a while after this...

Yui: Um, what did you say just now...?

Shuu: Nothing...Well, you can just continue sleeping, don’t let it bother you.

Yui: E-Easier said than done...

Shuu: Whatever, just go to bed....If not, that fussy guy will...

ー Reiji joins them

Shuu: ...Too late.

Yui: Ah, Reiji-san...!

Reiji: I came to check up on you because I could imagine you would be sleeping on the job again...

Yui: ( The job? What is he talking about? )

Reiji: You...You’ve woken up, I see?

Yui: Um, is something the matter? I’ve been hearing these explosions this whole time.

Reiji: No, it is nothing serious. You should return to your own room.

Yui: But, I’m worried about the others...

Reiji: Your concern is meaningless to us Vampires. Now get back to your room.

*BOOM*

Yui: A-Again!? Um, Reiji-san...?

Reiji: ...Haah, for god’s sake...

*SCENE SHIFT*

*BOOM*

Ayato: Uwaaah!? What the fuck’s happenin’!? Do somethin’ ‘bout this!!

*CRASH*

Laito: The fire, Ayato-kun! Hurry up and extinguish the flames!!

Ayato: You do that!!

Laito: Okay, here I go!!

*SPLASH*

Ayato: Oi, that’s damn cold...!!

Kanato: What are you doing!? It nearly got on Teddy!!

Ayato: Complain to Laito, not to me!!

Laito: Ahaha! My bad, my bad~! My hand slipped a little~

*Thud*

Ayato: Ah! Hot, hot, hot! Oi, this thing’s hella hot if you touch it!

Subaru: Oi, you fool!! Of course it’s gonna be hot...Che!

*SHATTER*

Kanato: Why do you keep on getting in my way, Ayato!?

Ayato: I’m not doin’ it on purpose either!

Kanato: Then get out of my sight! You’re in the way!

Laito: Uwah~ This situation keeps on getting worse and worse. I feel like it’s beyond saving at this point?

Subaru: Don’t be standin’ there makin’ a calm observation of the situation and do somethin’ ‘bout it instead!

Laito: Ah~ No chance! Once things stop exploding, we’ll just have to start over from scratch, okay?

Kanato: Don’t be ridiculous! Do you have any idea how much time and effort I put into getting this far!?

Ayato: Crap! I think it’s gonna boom again!

Subaru: Oi, idiot! Don’t come my way with that thing!!

*BOOM*

*CRASH*

Subaru: Fuckーー!! Which one of you bastards thought this was a good idea!?

*SCENE SHIFT*

*BOOM*

*CRASH*

Yui: ( I could faintly hear Ayato-kun and the others in the background. I’m sure they’re the ones behind these loud noises... )

( I have no idea what they’re doing, but I can tell that the manor is on the brink of destruction... )

Reiji: ...

Yui: ( Reiji-san’s temples are twitching...I’m pretty sure he’s infuriated...? )

U-Um...If there’s any way I can help out...

Reiji: ...No, that will not be needed. I will take care of it...

Yui: I see...

*BOOM*

*SHATTER*

Yui: ( Honestly, what is going on? I can still hear everyone shouting too... )

Reiji: Shuu, how long do you intend to sleep amidst this ruckus?

Shuu: ...Shut up, I’m awake. I’m doing the task given to me, no?

Yui: ...Task?

Reiji: Aah...It is nothing that should concern you.

I will come and call you later, so do not set foot outside of your room until then.

Yui: Eh? U-Um...

Reiji: Understood?

Yui: ( S-Scary...I probably shouldn’t ask any more questions, right? )

...Yes...

Reiji: Very well. Well then, good-for-nothing. You will be switching duties and head towards the kitchen with me.

Shuu: Haah...What a drag...

ー The two of them leave

Yui: ( ...What on earth is happening in this house? )

( However, I have no other choice but to return to my room after what Reiji-san told me, right? )

ー Yui goes back inside her room

Yui: ( I went back inside as I was told to, but... )

*CRASH*

Reiji: Ayato! Cut it out! What are you even trying to do!?

Ayato: I just...!!

*BOOM*

Ayato: Uwaaah! This damn thing exploded again!!

*THUD*

Yui: ( Don’t let it bother you, just ignore it... )

Subaru: Uwaah! The fuck you doin’, Kanato!? Don’t point that dangerous thing towards me!

Kanato: ...Fufufu, I talked it over with Teddy, and we’ve decided to take down Ayato with this!

Laito: Then point it towards Ayato-kun instea...Uwaah!!

*BOOM*

*SHATTER*

Reiji: Ah, you lot...Stop this at once!!

Yui: ( Peace of mind...Positive thinking... )

Kanato: Ayato! Keep still and let yourself get hit!

Ayato: In your dreams!

Laito: Ooh~ Nice catch, Ayato-kun! Now dump it inside the water...

Ayato: Kanato, you should go ahead and blow up!

*BOOM*

Yui: ( ...Haah, I feel as if it just keeps on getting worse... )

( Speaking of which, I can’t hear Shuu-san at all. He can’t possibly be asleep amidst all of that...Right? )

( Even a Vampire would get hurt, no...? )

( Above all, it’s kind of rare for all of them to gather and do something together. )

( Hm...I honestly can’t imagine what they could be doing. )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) At Japanese high schools, they usually have a health committee with a representative in each class. This student is in charge of helping out during the physical examinations, will escort students when they are feeling ill or have injured themselves to the infirmary, etc.

(2) In Japan, it is quite common to say ‘I have received it’ when somebody hands you something. (People at stores might say it when you pay and give them the money as well.) However, the translation ‘Thank you’ just sounded more fluent and natural in English.

(3) 持ち場に着く or ‘mochiba ni tsuku’ usually gets translated as ‘to get to your station’ or ‘to get in position’. However, since some of them are actually moving places/leaving the house, I altered the translation a little.

(4) I had never heard of this before, but I googled the terms ‘calcium deficiency’ and ‘irritation’ in Japanese and did find multiple articles talking about a possible link between a bad mood and lacking calcium.

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

[ Part 2 ] →

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #vandead carnival #diabolik lovers translation #vcpresentfromsakamaki #shuu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #subaru sakamaki

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let-them-read-fics · 4 years

Text

Too Late To Apologize?

Requested By @rosiesandlilies: “I was wondering if I can request a Rosé x female reader story where Rosie is an idol who also happens to be ur wife and since she and BP are taking over the world by storm, she starts to forget about you and whenever u ask her to spend a little bit of time with you, she gets upset and fights with you. You’re also an important person but you always make time for her. Can it be angsty with fluff 🥰”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,026

Warnings / Misc: -- Angst, Self Doubt, Strained Marriage / Relationship, Crying, Some Swearing, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Oooooo lord, here we go. I am feeding 👏 you 👏 all 👏 today! This one took a while to write, but I’m pretty happy with it. I wrote it all in one go, starting at like 3am (as usual lol), so forgive me if it’s a little rough. I put a lot of effort into it, though, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for requesting -- Happy reading!

PS ~ I highly recommend that you listen to these songs as you read this:

You Were Good To Me -- Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

Surrender -- Natalie Taylor

The Night We Met -- Lord Huron

I Found -- Amber Run

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hongdae, Seoul -- 8:00 PM

“Good evening, everyone! Before I open the doors, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out of your day to stop in. We couldn’t have done this without your support, and we’re endlessly grateful. We hope you have a wonderful experience with us tonight. Now, without further ado, welcome to La Rêverie!”

To your amusement, the sizable crowd erupts into a fit of cheers once your opening speech is over. Echoes of the joyous sounds carry across the city, wiggling their way through the alleys and streets, bouncing off of the nearby buildings. The customers slowly filter in, greeting and congratulating you on their way; you’re beyond excited to start this new journey, and seeing people so happy to be a part of it only makes you more proud.

Eventually everyone makes it inside to their seats, and you join them.

--- Later That Evening ---

“Y/N, we have a private party that would like to see you. They’re eager to meet the woman behind all of this,” Pierre smirks, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. His demeanor confuses you slightly, seeing as how this isn’t the first time high profile celebrities have requested your presence -- that’s just one of the perks of being a world renowned chef. You brush off his remark as playful banter and send him to tell them that you’ll be out soon.

---

“...yes, actually. Y/N and I were fortunate enough to meet when she was studying in Paris; we were being trained by the same chef. We’ve been close ever since. I’m not surprised that she hired me, though; I’m practically a master in the kitchen.”

At Pierre’s cocky words, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. A small grin plays on your lips nonetheless, and you smooth out your top one more time before rounding the corner.

“What’s this idiot on about now? Did he tell you about the time that he nearly got kicked out of our mentorship program for giving Anthony Bourdain the wrong dish?” You ask the table, sending them a glance while ruffling his hair as you come up behind him. They all snicker at that, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes; with an annoyed shove, he scolds you for bringing that story up again.

“Must you always tell people about that?”

Your smile widens, spreading cutely across your face. Mocking him is one of your favorite things to do. “Mhm,” you say simply, nodding your head for emphasis. He attempts to hide his embarrassment, but it only brings a deeper blush to his cheeks.

At the VIP table, the suppressed sound of laughter carries over to you, and you’re reminded of your reason for being here in the first place. Upon offering your full attention to the table now, no longer distracted by Pierre, you’re met with 4 different pairs of eyes on you. Warm, yellow light illuminates the area, the classy overhead fixture emitting a soft glow to cast down on the guests beautifully. It’s cozy and inviting, just like you had intended it to be, and the sight makes you happy.

As you quickly scan over each of the girls, your brain pieces together where you know them from.

“My oh my, it’s Blackpink themselves. To what do I owe this honor?” All of the natural charisma that you possess takes over now, doing its best to override your nerves. It’s definitely not the time to fangirl over them; you have to act cool. One by one, you shake their hands, making sure to give each of them a glimpse of your award winning smile.

Jennie is the first to speak up. “Yourself, of course. You’re the talk of the town, Y/N, how could we miss this?” The way that she says it so casually, already skipping past the formalities, puts you at ease.

“Ah, you’re too kind. Was your food prepared to your liking?”

A chorus of approving noises leaves the table, successfully boosting your confidence in the process. “It was truly incredible, Y/N.” Rosé gushes, her adorable accent adding something magical to the simple phrase. For the first time tonight, your mind goes blank; ever since news broke of your plans for this new restaurant, you practiced to avoid this very thing. As you stand there floundering for a beat, she takes notice of the effect that her words have on you; it doesn’t take long for her to realize how much she loves to make you blush.

“Thank you so much. We’re so glad to have you here tonight.”

“We’re happy to be here! Rosé hasn’t stopped talking about it for the past week.” The Australian’s eyes go wide as Lisa exposes her, and she shoots the younger girl a shocked look. Lisa only smirks at this, her shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. Jisoo nods in confirmation, adding, “Yeah, she’s been super pumped.”

On the inside, you’re freaking out. Rosé was that excited to try out your creations? There’s no logical explanation for that one. Your own surprise is evident in your voice as you respond, “Oh really now? And why’s that?”

“I-I’ve just heard a lot of great things, you know? You’re pretty talented.” She tries to sound confident, but the stutter in her voice betrays her. The tips of her ears are burning with embarrassment, and after sending her yet another smile, you decide to spare her by changing the topic.

“Well thank you, again. It’s truly a privilege to cook for you girls.” The conversation continues from there, effortlessly moving from subject to subject, and you love how welcome they make you feel. Occasionally you excuse yourself to check on the other guests and ensure that they’re enjoying their dinner, and every time, Rosé finds herself sorely missing your presence. Despite only officially meeting tonight, she feels like she’s known you her whole life. The two of you clicked instantly, and she can’t seem to get enough of you.

After spending the better part of 2 hours chatting and getting to know one another better, you grow bold and ask the question that’s been rolling around in your head all night.

“Would you guys like to come back to the kitchen for a bit? I could give you some tips and we could make a couple dishes, if you want.”

Rosé nearly interrupts you from how eager she is to accept the offer. The second that you’re done asking, she’s already saying yes. The others happily agree as well, and soon you’re leading them to the back to get prepped.

_________

“Just like this, everyone. Cut thinly here,” you inform, using your knife to point to the areas in question, “...then turn it and follow through with the slices. It should come out diced, like so.” The girls observed your swift motions, peeking over at the small cubes once you’re finished. Things continue on like this for a while, and soon you’re halfway done with the veggies while they’re barely done with the first part of their batches.

“Slow down, Y/N! You’re too fast for us grandmas.” Jisoo jests, her voice bouncy with amusement.

“Okay, okay! I’ll wait, just let me know if you need help.” Your knife comes to rest against the cutting board, and you take the opportunity to lean back against the countertop to watch them work. Your eyes trail over to Rosé, only to find her already looking at you; she tenses once she realizes she’s been caught, and she returns to her previous duties. You decide to tease her.

“Everything alright, Rosé? You seem a little distracted…” She momentarily shuts her eyes at your words, trying to refocus her thoughts and collect herself. A subtle snicker from Lisa can be heard, and Rosé delivers a quick jab to her arm. The maknae lets out a little “oww” before setting her things down to rub away the newfound soreness of her arm.

A little later, Jennie requests some assistance, prompting you to make your way over to her. The station that she’s working at just so happens to be next to Rosé’s, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t thrill you.

“Do we peel this first or leave it on?”

“Cut the ends first, then slice it in half and remove the outer layer.”

Under your watchful eye, she follows your instructions and is soon back on track. She thanks you, and you bring your hand up to give her a pat on the back. Although she feels childish for it, the action works to make Rosé the tiniest bit jealous; she wants your attention on her.

The blonde clears her throat before speaking up. “Y/N, I need a little help, too.” Your heart jumps at her words, and you fight hard to keep yourself in check as you spin around to face her.

“Of course, Rosé.” She sighs at the way her name rolls off your tongue, and she’s completely convinced that you’ve secretly put her under some type of spell. Her thoughts of you and your mysterious ways are interrupted when you come to stand next to her, your hip lightly brushing against hers.

“Oh, well there’s your problem: you’re holding the knife wrong. Here,” you start, reaching out to reposition her hand in a better spot. Now she’ll be able to control it better, and she won’t run the risk of cutting herself.

“Better?” You ask innocently, missing the way that she bites her lip. The close proximity of your bodies is making her head spin, and she can’t decide if she wants you to stay or go. “Yes, thank you.” She looks like she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t, so you take that as your cue to go check on the other girls. Rosé silently curses herself for missing that golden opportunity to flirt with you, but she takes solace in the fact that she catches you stealing glances her way fairly often. You feel the connection too, and she’s pleased with that -- maybe she was doing something right after all.

The next stint of the night is spent preparing and cooking the dishes you promised them while trading jokes, banter, and teasing remarks. A mini food fight also took place, but for the sake of professionalism you won’t mention that. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

----

“Goodnight girls. I hope you come by again sometime soon!”

They all assure you that they’ll be back before you know it, and you believe them. After all, they gobbled those dishes down like they hadn’t eaten in days -- it’s safe to say that they enjoyed them.

Rosé lingers in the doorway, eyeing you as you work to clean off the counter. She doesn’t want to go; she’s loved getting to hang out with you. Contemplating her options, she decides to be brave; she tells the girls to go on ahead, that she’ll be there in a minute.

“Rosé, did you forget something?” You ask, looking up at her as you reach forward to wipe any remaining debris off the sleek surface.

“Yeah, your number.” Somehow, she possesses all the confidence in the world now, her new demeanor completely opposite to its previously shy counterpart.

You tilt your head at her, a dumbfounded smile parting your lips ever so slightly. “Bold, are we? Alright, I’ll bite.” You say, holding a hand out for her to give you her phone. Her eyes widen a bit -- was she not expecting you to say yes? There’s no way you could turn down a chance like this. She fumbles around in her bag until the smooth screen of her phone comes into contact with her fingers, letting her know she’s found it.

“Here you go,” she chuckles cutely, an adorable little pattern of blush rising to her cheeks again.

After entering your number, making sure to save the contact and even take a goofy picture of yourself for it, you give it back to her. “Call me anytime, love.” Her smile spreads even farther at the pet name, and she ducks her head to hide her reddening cheeks.

As she slowly approaches the door, walking backwards, she says, “I will… love,” offering you a little awkward salute at the end of it. You giggle at her antics, and soon bid her goodnight.

No more than 5 minutes later, your phone dings as it displays a notification from an unknown number.

“I’m usually not that awkward 🤦‍♀️ pretty girls just make me nervous.” The message makes your heart flutter, and you quickly save her number to your contacts.

“Really? We have yet another thing in common, then.”

The girls watch as Rosé does a little victory dance in her seat, her movements a bit limited by the belt stretched across her body. She’s practically glowing with excitement, her fingers already firing off another reply.

________

3 Years Later -- Rome, Italy

Upon seeing Rosé saunter down the aisle, your emotions get the jump on you; before you can stop them, tears flow freely down your face, and you bring a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. She looks bruisingly beautiful: the natural curves of her body are accentuated by the silky material of her dress, and her shoulders are covered in lace. An angel cast down from the heavens above.

She smiles at the audience that’s filled with your close friends and family, offering little greetings as she passes them. Once she and her father make it to the altar, he pulls you in for a big hug, a few tears escaping his eyes. After he takes a step back, he looks between the two of you with pure pride on his face, his hand resting on your shoulder.

The song ends, signalling for the two of you to join hands and face each other, and he returns to his seat.

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of Y/N L/N and Roseanne Park. Two souls destined to find their way to one another, travelling millions of miles in the process. We come together to revel in this fact and send them into their new life together with all of our support.” The officiator says into the microphone, smiling at the two of you. You can tell he loves his job, and he’s damn good at it.

Rosé’s grip on your hand tightens as she tries to contain her tears, but you’re quick to assure her that it’s alright. “You can cry, baby.” At your words, her lip is released from between her teeth, and her tears begin to flow. You wipe them away, stepping closer to rest your forehead against hers.

The ceremony continues on and the two of you recite the personal vows you wrote. Somehow, unbeknownst to you, there doesn’t seem to be a limit to how much you can cry in one sitting. Rosé is having the same problem, seeing as how her makeup is smudging some as the tears wash the substances away. You don’t care though, and you make it a point to remind her of that; she’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“I do.” You choke out, beaming at her as you run your thumb across her knuckles.

“I do.” She responds, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits for those final words from the officiator.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Her lips are on yours before he even finishes the phrase, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she pulls you in closer. Your lips move with hers in perfect time, working to seal your union in the best way possible. “I love you, forever,” she whispers against your lips.

____

Present Day, 1:17 AM

In order to spare you from the overwhelming sadness that you’re being subjected to now, your brain takes you back to those happy times from the past. When Rosé still made time for you; when she loved you.

Even though you hate it, you still find her in everything. The bright sunshine of the early morning reminds you of all the times she would wake you up with kisses, holding you close. The songbirds outside of your window bring to mind when you’d come home to find her at the piano, alternating between striking the keys and strumming her guitar as her beautiful voice carried out across the house.

You miss that Rosé, so, so much. The Rosé that would call you in between sessions at the studio, if only for 5 minutes. The Rosé that longed to hear your voice after a long day; who fell into your arms the second that she shuffled through the door after practice.

As time has passed, though, she’s seemed to fade more and more from your life; missed calls and texts have become a given, and it takes everything in you to mask your sorrow. Anyone who knows you well at all can easily see through the facade: you’re now a shell of who you once were, your normally vibrant and cheery self gone. You attempt to hide your sadness behind a smile, but it never really works out; your eyes don’t shine like they used to, and your lips don’t quite tweak up at the corners in the special way they had before.

But you’re getting ahead of yourself again. Your reason for crying tonight is simple: for the hundredth time this month, she’s cancelled your date night plans, opting to spend the time working instead. The argument that the two of you had earlier replays in your mind:

"I don't have a choice."

Except, she did. She could choose you, choose to take a break, if only for the evening. You never ask too much of her, knowing that she can't handle even more stress competing with what she already has from the company and media. Being an idol is hard enough, and you know you can never fully wrap your head around everything that's expected of her.

Though, that makes this all the more ridiculous. All you've asked for is a couple hours of her time -- for her to relax with you and get away from it all. Earlier that day you had gone to the store and picked up all the necessary materials to treat her to a little spa day, complete with bath and body oils, face masks, and even some bath bombs.

"Asking my wife to spend an evening with me is not unreasonable, Rosé."

"I'm not having this argument again, Y/N. I get enough shit from everyone else; I don't need any extra from you."

Maybe it was something in how she said it, so final and hateful, her face coming to rest in a scowl. Her arms were crossed as she stood in front of you, and you could see the muscles in her jaw clench and release repeatedly. In some twisted way, part of you was glad to have this encounter; it hurt like hell, but at least she was paying attention to you. She hadn't looked at you for this long in a while.

Before you can even get another word out, she sighs, saying, "I don't have time for this. I have to go back to the studio."

Just as she turns to go, you catch her wrist. With a slightly annoyed look, she turns to face you.

"If you walk out that door then I'm leaving; at least for the night. We need to talk about this, but if you don't care enough to even give me that, then…" you trail off, tilting your head slightly. You want her to apologize, to say how wrong she's been for doing all of this to you -- but she doesn't. Her expression is tired, irritation written plainly for you to see. She pulls her arm away, offering a petty, "Oh well," with a shrug before exiting the house.

How could she be so cold? Maybe that's what hurt the most. Seeing the love of your life turn into someone completely different than who you fell for stung more than any argument ever could. The reality is that she's not the same person anymore. Accepting that would be half of the battle in and of itself.

Your heart is betraying itself, stuck in a sticky situation: you're constantly struggling between your love for her and the respect you hold for yourself. Half of you wants to stay, to make her listen and fight for this; but the other half of you, perhaps the more rational side, knows that that won't work now. You've tried that already, you reason with yourself, racking your brain for any new way to get through to her.

Sometimes it's like she forgets all of the sacrifices you make for the relationship. Despite having your own busy schedule to deal with, you always make time for her. So why could she never do the same for you?

It's obvious that in its current state, this relationship is only wrecking your mental health -- a testament to that is every night you've spent lying awake, sobbing into your pillow as your list of insecurities grows longer and longer. She used to be the person you'd run to when negative thoughts plagued your mind, her sweet words of love showing how much she valued you. But all of that's gone now, leaving you with a shattered heart and racing mind. When had you stopped being enough?

~~~~~~~

It’s late, well past 4AM when Rosé manages to make it home. Practice absolutely wrecked her today, leaving her body exhausted from dancing and throat sore from all the singing she had to do. She’s more than ready to collapse into bed and pass out.

One thing that always stayed the same was your sleeping arrangement. No matter how much Rosé hurt you, you still slept in the same bed. Her subconscious was always kinder to you than she was, anyway; the two of you would cuddle in close like before, her arms wrapped around you as she slept peacefully. No arguments or yelling, you could always count on the nights to heal your heart a little bit.

As she enters the empty bedroom, the memory of your argument from earlier that day comes flooding back. She remembers that you said you were leaving, but part of her didn't fully believe you. She should've known better -- you always keep your word. Guilt washes over her, and she gently taps her head against the wall as a sort of self-punishment for her previous actions. Why did she say that to you? The hurt look in your eyes broke her heart, but she couldn’t afford to skip practice, especially with the comeback quickly approaching. In retrospect, she should’ve just told you that she didn’t feel prepared, and that’s why this practice had been so important. Even though she doesn’t show it, you still mean the world to her. She just so happens to be her own worst enemy.

With a heavy sigh, she makes her way to the bathroom; there she finds a cute little basket of goodies next to the tub, and a note on the counter of the sink. She approaches the basket first, quickly discovering that it holds some of her favorite self-care items from the local store. Yet again, a deep pang of guilt courses through her upon realizing that you had prepared that for her. Defeated, she picks up the note.

Roseanne,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve already left. I don’t want you to worry, if you even still care enough to do that, so I decided to leave this letter for you. I’ll be staying with my friend for the next while. I don’t know how long, but that depends entirely on you. I’ve tried to communicate with you, but we’re getting nowhere; we both know it. We’re not who we used to be, Rosé, and I hate that. I want us to be happy again, but it seems that I can’t do that for you. If you want to end things, let me know.

- Y/N

Rosé’s heart is breaking, splintering into a million different pieces and leaving her with no possible way to collect them all. How had she so royally fucked this up? She only has herself to blame, and she knows that; she can’t believe that she let things get like this. She had been so blinded by the stress that she lost sight of the most important thing in her life: you. It’s slowly sinking in that she very well might lose you for good this time, and she doesn’t know how to cope with that. She can survive without her career, but she knows she can’t go on without you.

----- La Rêverie, 2 Weeks Later -----

She only intended to walk by -- to see if you were there and safe. But as she gazes through the windows, peeking into the place that houses so many of her dearest memories, she’s transfixed. Her eyes land on you, finding you hard at work in the kitchen. It’s always been where you go when you’re stressed or upset about something -- two things that Rosé knows she’s the cause of.

You’re in your element, face donning a look of pure concentration as you prepare what she assumes is a new dish. Your hair’s in a bun, a few strands coming down to fall around your face as you move about. Gravity takes its time in gently coaxing them out of the tie's hold, and Rosé’s breath hitches at how beautiful you look; it’s as if she’s falling for you all over again. She’s always admired your skills, but they hold a whole new meaning now, an unspoken tension in every movement you make.

How had she been so selfish? You had been there for her all along, waiting patiently for the day that she would come to her senses. You would always have dinner ready -- usually one of her favorites, hoping that would spark something again -- but she always brushed you off. She never stayed long enough to see the crushed look on your face, or how the pain was becoming clearer and clearer by the day. She realizes now just how much of a toll her actions have taken on the both of you; you're still just as breathtaking as ever to her, but that special sparkle in your eye has long been eclipsed by something more dull. You're tired of being let down repeatedly, stuck in a constant loop of excuses and avoidance, and Rosé can't blame you for a second.

The time apart hasn't been kind to her at all; there hasn't been a single day that's gone by where you haven't consumed her thoughts. She misses you so badly it hurts, and even now, despite being so close to you, separated only by the walls of the restaurant, you've never been further away.

The distant sound of a car alarm cuts through the silence, simultaneously scaring her and drawing your attention. Before you can spot her, she ducks down; there’s no way that she can face you yet. Taking this as a sign, she decides to leave.

She’s spent the past 2 weeks attempting to spare you by not coming around; she thinks you need time away from her to deal with everything she’s put you through, and she doesn’t want to upset you anymore than she already has. Ever-torn, part of you is glad that she’s stayed away; however, another part of you just wants to see her again. You miss the nights more than you thought you would.

--- A Few Days Later ---

Steady sheets of rain pound harshly against the window, vibrating the latches with each gust of wind. Times like these are always the worst, especially when you don’t have Rosé to calm you down. Violent thunderstorms never fail to frighten you, and this one in particular seems like it’ll be the worst one of the season. Swiftly padding over to the window, you sneak a quick peek outside, only to find the branches of the large oak tree that occupies the yard swaying in the wind with reckless abandon. The sight terrifies you, but you do your best to keep yourself from panicking, even having to do some breathing exercises. Your friend can sleep through anything, and you know she needs the rest; so, you stay in the spare bedroom that she’s so graciously allowing you to reside in, and lie awake.

Across the city, Rosé is tossing and turning. The storm hasn’t fully reached its peak there yet, but she knows how worried you must be. Tears spring to her eyes at the thought of you huddled up under the covers, body trembling in fear as the storm rages on. The deep-rooted shame that she’s grown so accustomed to since you left plagues her conscience, making her even more disgusted with herself.

After turning over yet again, her eyes land on the picture she has of the two of you propped up on the nightstand. It was taken on your wedding day, that stunning view of the venue paling in comparison to your beauty. A sense of determination washes over her -- determination to make you that happy again someday, in whatever way she can -- and she gets out of bed to collect a few materials. She’ll do whatever it takes.

----

The sound of a car door slamming perks your ears up, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quickly pulling the curtain back, you’re beyond shocked to see Rosé out there, holding something in her hand. Just as you lean in closer to the window to try and see what it is, her caller ID pops up on your phone.

“Come downstairs, please.”

Even with the vast array of emotions coursing through you at the moment, you’re only focused on getting her inside and out of harm’s way.

You nearly knock the door off its hinges with how quickly you snap it open. To your surprise, she’s still standing by her car, but now you can see what she was holding before; a white sign with black writing on it. The words are barely legible with how much it's raining, the dye of the marker horribly smudged, but you can make out: “I’m sorry! I’m an idiot.” It’s like something out of romantic drama.

Before you can even comment on everything that’s happening, Rosé begins the speech that she’s been trying to piece together ever since you left.

She has to raise her voice so you can hear her over the storm. You wonder why she doesn’t just come in, but you think that maybe she’s doing it to show you that she’s willing to punish herself by standing out in the elements. “No words that I say will ever be able to fix the pain that my actions caused. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, and I hate myself for being such a coward. I was too immature to look past my own struggles and just talk to you about them.”

Now, she takes a few cautious steps towards the front door, testing the waters as she scans your face to gauge how you’re feeling. “I guess I just thought I could deal with it like I always do. But losing you showed me how wrong I was; I love you so much, Y/N. I don’t want to end things; I’ll never want that. You’re my world, baby; I’m so sorry that it took me this long to see what was right in front of me.”

How are you to respond to that? Can you trust her? She looks more sincere in this moment than she has in a long time, and that puts you a little more at ease. Her eyes are begging -- pleading -- with you to believe her, and after a moment you step to the side, wordlessly telling her to come in. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until a few stray tears drip onto your shirt, leaving little marks in their wake. She has to restrain herself from reaching out and wiping them away; she has no idea when -- or if -- you’ll be able to forgive her.

Soft pitter-patter of the water running off of her coat echoes lightly across the foyer, serving as white noise for the conversation you’re having. Her sniffles work in tandem with it, and she bites back her sobs in order to get the words out.

“I know this won’t be fixed overnight, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me. I won’t blame you for a second if you can’t forgive me, either. I just couldn’t let you get away without a fight.”

With each new fresh batch of tears that settle in your eyes, you have to work twice as hard to blink them away. “I-I don’t know what to say, Rose. You’re the only person in this world capable of hurting me that badly, because you mean more to me than anyone else. But I never thought you’d treat me like that. Do you know how many times I doubted myself, thinking I did something wrong?” Your tone is bitter now, voice conveying the pain from those months of anguish that you had to endure, and Rosé hangs her head.

“I know that now, Y/N, and I know that I can never take it back. But God, how I wish I could. I’d do anything in my power to take that pain away. It was never your fault; none of it was.”

You know she’s being honest. After seeing the opposite for so long, it’s easy to spot when she’s telling the truth. You nod a couple times, deciding to pull her in for a long-overdue hug. She’s motionless at first, not quite knowing if you want her to return it or not, but the second that you quietly say, “Hold me, Rosé,” she’s scooping you up in her arms like her life depends on it. Her head rests in the crook of your neck, and the two of you cry together, letting all of the pent up frustration and sadness leave your bodies.

After standing there, embracing one another for who knows how long, she pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. Her gaze subtly falls to your lips, but you don’t fail to notice. “Can I?” She asks gently, raising her eyes back up to yours. “Yes.” You utter, nearly swooning as her soft lips brush against your own. You’ve missed them.

Her chilled hands cup your cheeks with purpose, and you can feel water running off the ends of her hair and onto your chest.

She kisses you in such a poetic way: softly, as if you might break at any moment, but urgently, like a lost soldier finally returning to the arms of their lover. She wants to make you feel how sorry she is, how much she loves you, and this seems like the perfect place to start.

“I love you, jerk,” you say through your tears, brushing your thumb along her cheek as you look into her eyes.

“And I love you, angel.” She picks you up, spinning you around a couple of times before setting you back down on your feet.

After a moment, you glace at the window. “Shhhh, wait. Do you hear that?”

She cocks her head to the side as she listens closely for any potential noise that you might be talking about, but she hears nothing. “No? I don’t hear anything…”

“Exactly; the rain stopped.”

“Huh. I guess it did its job, then.” She smiles, silently thanking the universe for working in its wonderful ways. It brought the two of you back to one another, and neither of you can contain your happiness. Maybe you don’t hate storms as much after all...

443 notes · View notes

paellaplease · 4 years

Note

HAII!! if it hasnt been done yet, could you do revali x reader with basorexia? maybe reader really wants to give him a kiss but she really cant since,, yknow she has lips and he has a fuckin beak so she just decides to give him a lil smooch on the cheek? idk that was just an idea i had in mind, u dont have to write it!

22. basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss.

pairing: revali x reader summary: revali spirits you away to enjoy the new years eve festivities.

In the darkness of your room, you awoke to the sound of a soft tapping on your window. Twisting in the mess of blankets and pillows, you pushed aside the papers and textbooks that had accumulated at the foot of the bed, noticing only then that the candle at your desk had long since extinguished.

Head pounding, you rubbed at your tired eyes, feeling heavy. How long had you been asleep?

The tapping grew more insistent, forcing you to get up. Grumbling, you allowed yourself a second to stretch, ignoring how your room felt like water sloshing in a glass.

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on!" You said, hobbling to the window. Brushing the mess of hair from your eyes, you pulled the curtains away and roughly pushed it open.

The culprit hovered outside, eyes bright and smug. Revali looked very much at home though he was floating at a dizzying distance away from the ground. In the sleepy haze, he looked like a painting of some myth you had read before, with the late night sky as his backdrop and the outline of your window as his frame.

"Took you long enough."

"Apologies. I thought some tree branches were hitting the glass."

The Rito made a show of turning in the air. "Funny, I don't see any nearby trees."

"I know," you sighed, disappointed.

Revali rolled his eyes and poked his head through the window, feathers brushing past your cheek as he ignored your personal space in favour of scoping out your room. The stiff turn of his neck as he looked around reminded you of the curious and confused little birds that landed on the sill from time to time.

"Quite a dreary home you have here." Gesturing to the overall darkness, he pointed to your stack of scattered papers. "You shouldn't study without proper lighting, it's bad for your eyes."

"I was asleep."

"Why, I'm surprised. And here I thought you were one of the festive many who choose to stay awake at an ungodly hour in order to count down the remaining seconds of the year."

"Well," you shrugged, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Not like it's anything special. New year, same shit. What difference would a countdown do?"

Biting down on your tongue, you stopped yourself from saying anymore. The cold breeze sifted past the light shirt you were wearing, making you shiver.

He was right, normally you were one of those people who stayed up, excitedly watching the hands of the clocktower tick til they reached midnight. You enjoyed the energy of being in a collective crowd, waiting with bated breath for the first inhale and exhale you would take into the brand new year.

The final month on the Hylian calendar brought a sense of relief and a hope for new beginnings. Usually today of all days you were at your happiest, jumping at the prospect of celebrating along with the rest of the kingdom and yet…

That sinking weight clawed at your chest again, forcing you to clamp down on it once more.

You grimaced. There it was; that bitter feeling. Hylia. How annoying. It twisted in your brain like an angry snake, pulling down your mood and enthusiasm along with it.

Last year you wanted to cheer and dance until the morning light. Now all you felt like was staring at the wall. Or falling asleep.

You blinked, turning back to the window to see Revali patiently waiting for you to continue. Feeling your face warm, you hustled your brain to get a move on. A coherent thought would be great right about…now!

"Hey have you ever wondered why they don't grow trees on this side of the castle? It's not fair the more expensive quarters get all the pretty greenery. I mean, non-noble guests still need that sweet oxygen everyone keeps raving about, you get me?" Shut up brain, that's enough. I said a coherent thought. C o h e r e n t.

Stars in his wings, Revali shook his head but answered anyway. "I agree, it's hardly fair. Also go change into something warm, we need to get you outside."

"What? Why?"

Something in the Rito's expression clued you in to the fact that he wasn't in the mood to play stupid. You've been sitting in the dark for the past few days and it didn't take a private investigator to know it was playing tricks with your head. "Fine, but when I say we go back--we go back, got it?"

He huffed, turning around to give you some privacy. "I promise on my honour."

The brightly lit lanterns of the town square made you squint as you shuffled closer to your guide, the sound of the city loud in your ears.

Though less prominent, the twisting feeling in your gut continued, making you more hyper-alert than usual to the world around you. Adjusting the sleeves of your coat, you followed Revali past the streets, the Rito expertly navigating through the sea of people.

Somewhere along the way he had taken your hand, and you told yourself it was a good way for you both to stick together. Wouldn't want you getting lost and spending the final minutes of the year playing an elaborate game of hide and seek after all. He was a great friend like that. Nevermind that everytime you would hold his wing a little tighter to remind yourself that he was there, he would always squeeze back.

You needed a distraction.

Just focus on everything that's not him.

The night was alive with the sound of music. It didn't matter if you partied with an alcoholic drink in hand, or a glass of milk, everyone in Hyrule was filled with an addictive buzz that came with an event that only happened once a year. Vendors with bright smiles called out from their stalls, the smell of freshly baked sweets or the sizzle of a barbecue beckoning you to take a closer look. To your left, a group of friends raised their hands in the air, loudly welcoming a Goron that had turned up late but regardless had finally arrived.

The archer followed your line of sight, guessing the question bouncing in your head. "Daruk is in Eldin, probably rattling Death Mountain with that story again about the Moblin camp and the barrel of explosives."

"I love that story."

"Of course you would."

"Sorry about your feathers though."

"Whatever, they grew back."

"How about the one's on your--"

"Anyway," he interjected quickly, playfully nudging you to the side and glowering at your laughter. "We've been told to 'take a break'. The other Champions have chosen to spend this day with their families and loved ones. We are planning to regroup and continue preparations in the days following."

"How about you?"

"I already said it."

Your cheeks coloured at the implications of his words, mind replaying the previous sentence. Families and loved ones. Families and loved ones. He didn't even hesitate. You both were not related. So that left you with...

"Woah!" Digging your heels into the dirt, you abruptly paused your brisk walk and saved yourself from colliding with the archer's back.

Stopping at one of the stalls, Revali held two fingers up. You glanced up at him questioningly but he refused to give anything away, expression relaxed. The vendor returned quickly, the Rito thanking them quietly and placing the payment on the bright yellow table cloth along with a large tip in their jar.

He turned around, dropping a square shaped pastry into your hands. It was some kind of rice cake, with a fluffy exterior and a golden baked surface that smelled of butter and felt warm like the sun.

Taking a bite, you smiled at the hints of coconut that were hidden in its sweet flavour. The sticky treat was familiar somehow. "Is this so luck sticks to you in the new year?"

Revali scoffed, though failed to hide his own smile behind the cake held in his wing. "You said the same thing when we first met. You need new material."

"Says the baron of bird puns."

"I am the king." He punctuated the statement by biting into his own rice cake. Offering his wing, he gently took your hand once more, turning back to step again into the busy promenade.

Following him, you noticed that the crowds ever so slowly began to thin. A lantern lit hill was coming up. The grassy expanse was dotted with a few people, though it was blessingly not as populous as the town square. "I should be the one that's surprised. Thought you hated crowds unless their attentions were all on you."

"It's tolerable so long as I am with good company."

The both of you walked up the hill with an unspoken agreement to make it to the top. Taking a seat on the grass, you allowed yourself to breathe, chest heaving from the small burst of exercise after days of being sedentary.

The twinkling lights of Castle Town stretched out before you. Gazing at it, you could imagine all the untold stories hidden in the glowing little pockets of the alleys and in the hushed whispers behind closed doors. Funny how in a city so full of people, one can feel so alone.

Revali was the first to speak, breaking you from your thoughts. "I think I can understand now. Looking at it from this distance, it really can feel like nothing much has changed."

You continued to stare at the lights, trying to focus on a certain string in an attempt to ground yourself. "Yeah. Sometimes it feels like though the world continues to spin, I'm remaining completely still. Just stagnant."

Frowning, you ran your hands through the grass, feeling the dirt shift under your fingers. You could feel your frustrations building, bubbling up to the surface with no way of dragging them back down.

"And the challenges just get worse every year. How am I going to face those old problems and these new ones if I'm still the same lost person I was back then?"

Your voice echoed at the last sentence, making you hide your head in embarrassment. That was loud.

Some strangers relaxing on the hill turned around to flash you an annoyed glare, before quickly returning to their picnics after spotting the Great Eagle Bow on your friend's back.

"I'm so sorry." You wanted more than anything then to dig a hole and hibernate preferrably for the next hundred years or so. "I'm yelling, that isn't like me. I'm so so--"

"There's nothing to be sorry about. You needed to say it." He glanced at you from the corner of his eye. There was a serious element to it that made it a little hard to breathe. "There is one part of that I don't agree with, however."

"What is it?"

"That entire section about you, how did you put it, stagnanting." He twisted a wing in the air, thinking on his words before pointing a feather directly at your face. "You're fully capable of enacting the change you want to see in yourself."

You felt a little dizzy now. But another kind of dizzy, one very different from the vertigo you felt waking up in the darkness of your room.

"And who said you were exactly the same as you were back then? You've changed. In a good way. You're stronger and more capable of things I'm sure the person you were two years ago or even less couldn't even fathom doing."

Turning to face you, Revali gave you his full attention, compelling you to do the same as the cadence of his speech joined the steady rhythm of your own beating heart. From the back of your mind, you could barely register the sound of people gathering together, their voices floating into the cold night air.

'Ten!'

"It's difficult to see your own progress from a distance."

'Nine!'

"So take my advice and start looking at yourself up close for once."

'Eight!'

He had that expression on his face, one that said he was thinking too hard about something. It was like watching him try to pull the planets together with just a piece of string. His brows were furrowed so deep that your fingers wished to run over his feathers and smoothe the worried creases.

'Seven!'

You slowly reached out to him, giving him enough time to back away. Revali stilled as your hands traced up the nape of his neck, leaning in as his pulse thrummed underneath the soft pads of your fingertips.

'Six!'

He opened his beak the moment you reached his face. You paused, half expecting him to tell you to let go and pretend like it never happened.

Instead, he called out your name.

'Five!'

He said your name again, though quieter now. It was enough to tug at the invisible force drawing you two together. Enough so that the polite distance nervously enforced by the both of you gradually began to dissipate, trailing away like a ribbon of smoke as you both leaned in closer.

'Four!'

"May I--," He cleared his throat, eyes darting away for a second before they were back on you again. Bright green in the lantern light. Emeralds in the desert sand.

'Three!'

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes."

'Two!'

"Your way or mine?" You couldn't help but joke. Revali smiled, exhaling a soft joyful laugh before pressing his forehead to yours.

'One!'

'Happy New Year!'

An earth-shaking boom rattled your ears, but all you could think of in that moment was Revali and the feel of his feathers against your skin; the utter elation of being so close to someone you deeply cared for and that cared just as deeply for you.

In the dazzling light you lifted your head from his, both your eyes meeting for a brief moment. Hands moving, you gently angled his face with a steady hand, feeling then the soft, butterfly light brush of his wings on your waist.

Closing your eyes again, you leaned in to press your lips against his beak, the blush on your face warmer than any fever or furnace. The Rito's soft sigh was barely audible as you trailed your kisses upwards, stopping at the red circle on his cheek.

Revali laughed again as you turned his face to press a kiss to the identical red mark on the other side. "You're very thorough."

"You deserve it." You beamed. "And this is just the beginning, just you wait at the end of the countdown I'll--"

"Actually my dear," he grinned, pointing to the sky.

"Huh?"

Above you were the vibrant colours of the firework display. It was beautiful and awe-inspiring, but a confirmation that you were definitely minutes in to the new year.

"Oh," you said, before shaking your head with a smile. "It's fine, we got 12 more months to prepare ourselves for the next one."

Revali nodded, pulling you closer so he could press your foreheads together again.

"Indeed," he grinned. "Now will you finish your sentence? What exactly were you going to do at the end of the countdown?"

fin.

#revali x reader #revali #botw #revali botw #prompt fic #more taggs later #i wrote this entirely on my phone so apologies for any errors #been thinking about this for a long time #also very late but happy new years #paella writes

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venenatd · 3 years

Text

atsumu x reader; motion sickness - chapter three.

summary; atsumu wants to get to know reader better, and somehow convinces her to take him to the ice rink

content warnings; nsfw content, public sex, unprotected sex (nothing will come from it), dom/sub undertones

a/n; i hope u enjoy!! i think from here on out i get more into the swing of things and much prefer my writing so i hope u do too! reblogs/thoughts are v appreciated <3

ao3 | series masterlist | main masterlist | 18+ minors dni

Choosing to wake up alone means the bed is cool and spacious. You can roll over and feel nothing. Sheets fold against your body, swallowing you whole. No need to tug them away, they are all for you. You push the thoughts away too, the idea that there could have been a warmth to tuck into. All throughout your routine you ignore how someone else could fit into it.

Breakfast alone stings a little more, the hotel full of families and teams. You’re more aware now at the buffet, of the many muscular men that stand around in groups. They pile plates high of the day's energy. Wildebeest at the watering hole, you note to yourself. If there was anyone to eye roll at, you would. You notice you don’t see a certain head of toned blond hair. Not that you’re looking for it, you remind yourself.

People watching is best done on your own however, and your eyes flit between young couples, children spilling honey down their chins, and people desperate for the relief of caffeine.

Alone is safe and comforting. An observer, as Faiz would often call you. Watching and analysing and playing with the stories in your mind. You can live through the honeyed child, the tired parent. Give them a job, a goal, a life. It’s fun to enter their space, if for a moment.

The moment ends as Faiz breaks into your thoughts, fragments of faux futures shatter around you. “I have a challenge for you today.”

“Oh?”

“I want you to trust me,” the cheeky glint in his eye makes you want to do anything but.

“You already know I do.” His overjoyed energy is infectious, and your morning of distraction in other people’s brains has been replaced. You can feed off him to feel full. “What are you planning?”

“So, before you ask he’s down,” he begins, grinning at your raised brow, “but I think you should work with Makito today.” You chew on your toast for a minute, thinking through what Faiz is really asking. Or telling, as is more often when it comes to your coach.

“It’s for p—”

“Passion, you dumbass.”

“—ssion, isn’t it? Oi.” you go to flick his forehead, but he’s too quick and instead gets yours. “Ow, Faiz. Insulting and hurting me? Your favourite skater?”

“My favourite skater you may be, but you also need to score well. And I’ve got a plan.”

He drones on for a while, about how working with Makito is going to help create an environment where you’re performing for someone in particular. If you are embers, he will try and find someone or something to breathe the fire into you. You see how much he’s thought about this, and hey, you’re willing to give it a go if it might help.

As you make your leave from the hotel restaurant, you bump into something. Firm and tall and moving in such an ecstatic manner that it’s almost difficult to believe it’s so early in the morning. The someone grabs your shoulders, almost picking you up to move you to his side. You fluster, and they lean down to you.

“Sorry, sorry! Apparently way too hungry for breakfast,” his voice is deep but keeps the same energy as his movements. “Wait, do I know you?”

And then you see it. Another flashback to your night of heavy drinking. A shock of white and black hair, and bird-like features. “Barely, I think. I was drinking with your,” you’re not sure what term to settle on, “teammate, I think? Atsumu?”

“Yes, Tsum Tsum’s girl! Hey!”

“I’m not—”

“She’s not—”

And there he is. Sun gold hair still damp from an early shower. He looks like the warmth you were missing that morning. You didn’t miss it, you correct your runaway thoughts. It’s just a feeling you were once used to.

“Oh. Awkward. Well, breakfast calls!”

Like that the owl flees the nest.

“I should get going,” you say, shuffling past him as an attempt to run from the atmosphere. You don’t need to talk about it, or what you did. Hookups are a lot easier when you’re not both staying at the same hotel.

“I meant what I said, by the way,” he calls after you, waiting a second for you to turn. You shouldn’t turn around. Not if you don’t want to give him the chance to offer again. But it’s like his voice has a command over you, and you pause briefly. He rewards you with the easy curl of his lips and the way it shows in his cheeks. A small flash of hope in his eyes. “I’ll teach you a spike for a spin.”

At least there’s someone for you to roll your eyes at now.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“Glad ya keepin’ up.”

Atsumu is quickly realising that you don’t quite speak your mind. It’s always you won’t take no, you don’t have to. It’s so far never been, I’m interested, I want that. There’s something about the way your brain is wired that makes him curious. Not that he would tell you about the other women that have flit through his life, but his type usually falls under demanding, high strung. Osamu would tease him that he dates reflections of himself. They could barely be considered dates, if he really looks into it. It’s always to bars and parties, his ‘date’ enjoying the expensive alcohol or his teammates.

Maybe he does have a jealous streak. When he goes for those who throw themselves at him, he never quite expects them to do the same to his teammates in turn. It’s nice to be wanted though, if only as a stepping stone.

If you are not demanding, it would only be natural to assume you are easy or effortless. But you are not that either. You need persuasion and nudging to agree to the course you want anyway.

You are a curiosity, Atsumu thinks as you enter the rink together. His practice isn’t till late, your schedules are so perfectly mis-aligned.

The not-boyfriend from the bar is here too, pushing off the seats to greet you. Atsumu stays back and lets you explain the situation, giving a polite nod when Faiz is introduced as your coach. He relaxes more when Faiz gives him a grin, one that spills with knowledge of late night escapades.

“So, you’re the guy?”

“Am I the guy?” he questions you, and as your eyes once again move to roll, he speaks again, “y’know, your eyes might get stuck like that one day.”

“I told her the same thing!” Faiz laughs, patting Atsumu’s back. “She’s always doing it too, as if I’m so below her.”

“Both of you should stop talking.” It’s cute, he thinks. Your little pout that you probably think looks oh so stern. Brows knitted and a finger to your temple. A kindergartner would laugh in your face.

“Faiz, I hate to break it to you. But she didn’t deny it.” His hand squeezes Faiz’s shoulder, a look of woe playing on his face. The coach responds with a hand clasped to his chest, stepping back as if your words have shot him.

He mutters your name under his breath, as if shocked by the revelation. “You’ve been using me all this time? And here I thought we were friends.” Faiz looks between you, lips trying so hard to fight a smile, and the beaming blonde next to him. “And him? You’re using him for se—”

Your eyes widen, and your hand immediately goes to slap your palm over Faiz’s mouth. “Okay! Okay, I get it! Very funny Faiz, very funny Atsumu. You’re both first class athletes and comedians.”

There’s murmuring that comes from the fingers covering Faiz, and you open them just enough for Faiz to let you, “was it any good at least?” before you close them again.

Atsumu goes to open his mouth, goes to prod more fun in your direction. But your hand goes from Faiz’s mouth, to his hand, and you’re pulling him and his words away.

“Please not in the locker room,” Faiz calls in your general direction, to which you pull your signature middle finger back at him.

“Are we gonna do it in the locker room?” Atsumu asks, praying the slight element of hope is hidden by the teasing. How easy it would be to guide your hand in his, move it towards your waistband.

“You wish.” He does.

“I like your coach.” Atsumu leans against the rows of lockers, watching you swap shoes for skates, “seems more fun than mine.”

“He knows me better than anyone. And he’s honest, doesn’t hide anything,” you speak as if it's routine. A question that has an automatic answer. “I already regret letting you two meet.”

“Oh c’mon, Golide,” he trails after you, admiring how on earth you can walk so comfortably on blades. “We both know you enjoy it.”

“You need me to say it?” you question as you step on the ice, whisking away before he can respond.

Maybe he doesn’t need you to say it, but he certainly wants you to. There’s elements of your attitude that Atsumu wants to learn. Why you very clearly have walls up, and how he can seep into the cracks.

Faiz comes to stand next to him, both of them watching as you move across the ice. Now you do seem effortless. Atsumu is sure it takes huge effort for you to push yourself across the ice, but somehow it looks like you prefer it to walking.

“So,” Faiz begins, and Atsumu knows the tone of the protective friend, “you like her?”

As much as you can after hanging out with someone a couple of times. Atsumu knows he’s become curious. Is that liking you? It sounds like something a teenager would say. So far he knows he likes aspects of you. Your smile, first of all. The banter between you both is easy, it keeps him on his toes. Your moans and sarcasm are both equally sweet.

“Something like that.”

Faiz hums thoughtfully and Atsumu thinks he’s not going to do it, and that he doesn’t need to make any promises. “Just be nice to her. She deserves that.”

It’s a weird way to phrase don’t hurt her, but Atsumu nods nonetheless. Just like that the men are back to smooth and easy jokes and discussions of career.

Eventually another man, the other not-boyfriend Atsumu recalls, joins them, and Faiz bids his goodbyes. They both go towards you on the rink, and so your new lesson begins.

Makito is almost giddy to work with you. His movements are too quick and too erratic for you to feel calm. Your head is usually clear in practice. Knowing where the exact places your skates should be, the extension of your hands. But it’s fogged doing it with someone else, as well as knowing two pairs of eyes are watching.

You had begun by simply holding on to one another, doing the most basic of motions to make sure you were working together well, and that no one was going to trip over the other. Deeming it a success, Faiz had moved onto the next challenge.

“Remember, this is all about feeling with Makito,” he instructs, putting both your hands on each other, “I want to see you responding to him. Acting the part.” Pretending to be in love is what he really means.

You both move across the ice, you’re meant to be jumping into Makito’s lap and the two of you leaning back to balance the weight. The idea is to make it look sexy, alluring, erotic. All words that you think far from describe you.

From the edge of the rink Atsumu wolf whistles, and he imagines the eye roll, although he’s not sure he likes the idea of that so much when you’re seated in someone else's lap.

“Makito, how did that feel?” Faiz quizzes.

He winces, looking sheepishly towards you before he answers. “Like she thought she was going to fall.”

“Did you think you were going to fall?” He directs the question your way, but you think he knows the answer. Curse him understanding you inside and out.

“I- I don’t know. Trying so hard to look romantic I didn’t think about much else.”

It goes on like that for long enough that you’re both sweating. The same song plays on repeat as you go through set movements again and again. It makes it feel like both so much and so little time is passing. Even Atsumu is just flicking through his phone now. Why did you say yes to him coming again? You know Faiz can feel your agitation, the way you bristle each time he instructs you to look a certain way. If trying your best was enough, you’d be done by now.

“Go. Take a break,” Faiz instructs. He’ll give you some time to cool off as he always does, letting you work it out isolated. It’s what works best for your brain. A whole other routine, walking away and turning music up far too loud. Stewing in it all. Absorbing yourself in the negative feelings until you can push them away or find something to distract yourself from them.

It feels like you should be alone this time. Too many wrong buttons pushed and you could snap at someone only to regret it. Too bad for you that you said yes to your newest irritant.

“You looked awesome” Atsumu begins, looking up from whatever feed he’s swiping through. He can barely finish the sentence before your face causes him to falter.

There are two pairs of steps echoing down the hallway, the creak of a rusty hinge swinging twice. Hopes of a lonesome sanctuary in the locker room are dashed.

“Hey, you okay?”

His face is full of concern, which puzzles you. Your fingers struggle to unlace your shoes. Must you struggle with everything when it comes to your profession? Maybe a distraction would be better.

“Goldie?”

The nickname bounces around in your mind, coupled with I’ve got you. Your shoes are off and next comes your sweater. Tugging it over your head and discarding it unceremoniously on the floor.

“Do you need anything?”

Perspiration still clings to your body, coming down from your workout on the ice. He is standing there, so big, so broad. It’s like a magnet is drawing you closer. He is a distraction wrapped in an aggravatingly handsome face and strong body.

“Yes, I do.”

His eyes flick down to your chest, heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat. Not the time, Atsumu. You’re looking up at him through your lashes, and his lips part, thinking about- not the time. He thought it was annoyance in your eyes, but the darkness seems to hold a different weight. Fists are balled by your side, and he’s not sure if you’re holding yourself back from punching a wall or something else.

“Fuck me, Atsumu.”

“What?” His brain is short circuiting, he thinks. ‘It’s not the time’ he repeats again and again. He’d promised to be nice to you and suddenly he’s not sure if that means talking you down or engaging with you in all the ways he wants to.

“You wanted to, right? Just fuck me.”

All of your body language is screaming at him to grab you and pull you in. Your palm crosses against his pectorals, your fingers curling to tease your nails down past his naval.

“You want me to beg Atsumu?” On tip toes you can push your body against his. Low and whispered against your voice is at the shell of his ear. “You want me to say please?”

The tensing of his muscles underneath his shirt makes you not want to pull away. You want Atsumu to want you. No, you want him to need you. To show you that you’re good for something. So you fall back on your feet, starting to turn away, heart dropping for a moment when he stays still. Maybe you’re the desperate one.

But then his hand grips around your arm, pushing you firmly against the row of lockers. His mouth crushes yours before you can even think of teasing him. Gripping under your ass, he brings your legs around his waist. You smile into the kiss as you notice he’s already half hard.

He almost growls into your sigh, realising that he does not have easy access to you like this. Slow ruts against you, easily bringing you against his crotch as Atsumu keeps you stuck between his body and the lockers. He needs convincing to let you away from him for even a second. “Say it again.”

“Please Atsumu. Please fuck me.”

It tips him over, sends him into some sort of feral need for your cunt. Dropping and rotating you, pushing you back up against the cool metal.

Fingers rip at your leggings and panties, rolling them just far enough down your ass. You think he may manage to leave you with bruises when he grabs your hips again. He is always on you, whether it’s his tongue on your neck, his hands pulling down your cami to cup your tits.

Your hands scramble behind you, desperately trying to pull at his pants. He’s quick to entertain you, bringing them down and tugging his cock a few times.

Foreplay be fucking damned. You think you’re wet enough, or at least the stretch and burn of Atsumu buried inside you will be enough to sedate your over active mind. “I need you inside me. I n- need you to fill me, ‘Tsumu.”

As much as Atsumu wants to treasure your body, give you all that you deserve, the pure desire that fills your voice drives him into a new space entirely.

His head presses at that tight ring of muscle, letting himself be lathered in your slick. Gathering spit in his mouth, he pushes it between his teeth to let it slowly drop on his cock. You whine, begging more and more. Pushing yourself back on him as best you can with your waistband keeping your thighs pressed together.

Atsumu’s thumb pushes his spit around your already stretched hole, then moving down to press against your clit. It’s enough for him to fully sheath himself, giving you the delicious burn you were hoping for.

You’ve never been fucked like this. Never been needy enough to beg for it, and fuck, maybe it’s because Atsumu seemed so eager to make you feel good before. Maybe it’s that you know you don’t have to feel anything more than his length pushing against your satin walls again and again. You’ll go home, and all the deranged things your mind made you do can stay here.

Words fall from your lips, you’ve been the one talking- begging so far. “Harder, please, please, please, fuck yes.” One large hand is holding your elbows together behind you, the other plucking at your nipples or passing over your clit. He can’t make his mind up, each one drawing a new sound from you until you're babbling under him. Going from nothing to having Atsumu smacking his hips against your ass, oversensitive everywhere as you’re grabbed and played with.

“Yeah? You can’t even beg for it anymore, huh?”

Glazed over eyes look back at him, as if his cock has been a complete shock to your system.

But you’re defiant. “P-Please,” he makes out through your gritted teeth.

It makes him think of things you both could do. Things that need safe words and more trust than he feels you’re willing to give.

He’s close, feeling his abdomen and thighs tingle and tighten. There’s some part of him that wants you to be open to ideas, open to the trust that they’d need. He would need it.

Quick thrusts slow. Atsumu moves deep and slow, his hand letting your arms go and wrapping under your chest. He almost fully pulls out before driving back in, leaving you gulping for air in short gasps. His fingers massage your clit, and instead of mocking you he’s whispering encouragement.

“You feel so good, so, hah, s’fuckin’ good. Wan— wanna make you feel it all, wanna make you feel good.”

You don’t even realise your satin walls are fluttering around him, but Atsumu does. The tightness of your pussy around him makes him want to fill you up with his cum, and then he realises. No condom. Fuck. He looks at your fucked out face, eyebrows raising in bliss.

More whispered praise against your ear, and now you can feel it too. The coil in your stomach that’s making you tighten, making you open your eyes in surprise. He’s not saying it, but all you can think about is Atsumu saying “I’ve got you” because you’re so sure he does. Holding you up and close to his body, wanting you to also feel the pleasure you can see etched across his handsome features.

Before you realise it’s happening you're falling, spasming around his cock. Repeating “‘Tsumu, ‘tsumu, ‘tsumu” in a rapturous melody. Moans echo around the locker room, and Atsumu’s pulling out from between your plush folds, leaving you to clench around nothing. His cum coats your ass, jerking himself off to completion, wishing so hard it was your cunt milking every drop from him.

Slow and sweet kisses pepper your shoulder and neck, the cheek that isn’t pressed into the metal. “You feel good?” he says softly between pecks.

“Yeah, I… I needed that.” His thumbs massage into your hips, as if he’s working out the bruises that will definitely be there tomorrow. It’s another show of care that leaves you unsettled. “Feel better without your cum on my ass.”

Atsumu lets out a low chuckle, and he steps back to admire his work. A pretty painting, if he says so himself. Tucking himself away, he has to leave you standing awkwardly to run and grab tissues. There’s sincerity in how he cleans you up too, not quick and hurried as he should be. His fingers smooth over the curve of your ass, leaving more kisses in his wake.

Once you’re clean, he neatens your hair and pulls your leggings back up. You smooth out your smudged mascara and you both head back towards the rink. It’s too quiet for too long, but before you can interrupt the silence he does.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Hmm?” you hum.

“You said you needed it. Frustrated about something?”

The cold hits you both as you push open the doors into the rink. Makito and Faiz nod at you both before going back to their conversation. Probably about how much you suck at anything close to passion, you think, the feelings you’d just managed to smother becoming too quick to resurface.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” His eyebrows deepen and his brown eyes are full of so much sincerity you can’t help but go on. “So, I did pairs skating for a while, like what you saw earlier.”

He lets out little hums as you talk, reassuring notes of interest. “But then I moved to singles, and lost the spark and, uh—”

“The passion.” Fuck Faiz and his fucking passion. Atsumu grins at him for a moment, and you’re waiting for the onslaught of teasing to begin, but it doesn’t. His eyes return to you, his smile stays, dropping from cheeky into something softer.

“That. Passion, the desire, the,” you gesture wildly, “the stuff that turns it from spins and jumps into a performance.”

“And that’s what you were doing with your friend?” Atsumu points at Makito.

“The lift? Yeah, seeing if I’ve still got it in pairs.”

In a flash Atsumu is lifting you for the second time today, grabbing you by the waist despite your “hey!” Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, the breath being pulled from you as he manhandles you easily.

One large palm spreads across your back, and your body is running on it’s latest experience, curving back. Is he also thinking about what just happened, thinking about how he was going to take you like this? His face still holds onto something dark, his eyes lingering with lust. You pray your own doesn’t betray you, that you can feign it as surprise.

“That’s it! That’s the look!” Atsumu and you both turn to your coach.

His eyes wide and excited, both hands pointing at your face. Faiz is almost jumping up and down on the spot. “That’s what will make people notice! You did it!”

Your cheeks warm, watching Atsumu try to lean back also, replicating what he saw Makito do earlier. He’s strong and beautiful and everything you’re sure many women want. But with his eyebrows drawn in deep concentration, trying so hard to be elegant… He looks utterly ridiculous. Like that you’re giggling, hands having to loop around his neck to keep yourself from laughing your way to the floor.

You sound so good when you laugh. The challenge of getting it out of you is what first caught Atsumu. A smile made his drunken self feel gooey. Now sober, the noise of you trying to even your breathing as you give him a full bodied laugh. It makes him want to cup your face, marvel at your eyes creasing, the way the corners of your lips curl.

“And it’s gone again.” Faiz sighs, but it’s warm and full of so many emotions but not disappointment.

Eyes full of sweet browns and honey catch you off guard. He’s looking too intently at you. Your smile fades, body going more rigid in his hands. Atsumu lets you drop, making sure you’re steady before his hands move from your waist.

Practice starts back up, Atsumu watching from the sidelines. He can’t hear the discussion well enough between the trio on the ice, and soon his attention splits back between you and his phone.

His thumbs move quickly, typing out a ‘you’ll never believe what just happened’ to the MSBY group chat before he pauses, and presses against the backspace. To share what just happened feels wrong. It felt a little too personal. You needed him for a moment. If he was to tell the team, it’d be a fun anecdote. There’s the chance they could piece together it was with you, and if he can convince you to come to a game…

Atsumu doesn’t want to mess it up.

So instead his fingers take him to a different message, and start to type again.

Me // 11:21am

>> oi, i got a question for u

Samu🍙 // 11:24am

>> yes you need to wash everywhere. including there.

Me // 11:24am

>> ok

>> guess i’ll ask someone else

>> scrub

Samu🍙 // 11:24am

>> don’t be a baby

>> what’s up

His quick typing stops for a moment, watching you jump into Makito’s lap once more, and then the three of you are grinning and high fiving.

Me // 11:25am

>> have u ever liked someone

>> like liked

Samu🍙// 11:25am

>> are you 12 years old

>> i’ve had literal girlfriends

>> i’m trying to get ready for the lunch rush and you’re asking me about crushes?

Me // 11:25am

>> is a few days too soon to know

Samu🍙// 11:26am

>> depends i guess

>> you like someone?

Atsumu doesn’t know how to respond to that, so just hits the call button.

“I told you I’m tryna be prepared,” Osamu immediately berates his older brother, talking about how there’s only so much time before he’s going to be swarmed.

“Well, if ya shut it for a minute, I’d be able to talk.”

“Fine. So who’s my favorite twin crushin’ on?” he asks the question in a song, making Atsumu regret the call in the first place.

“I’m your only twin, dumbass,” he mutters, interrupting Osamu before they go off topic again. “I don’t know if I like her. We’ve hooked up a few times,” a gross comes from down the line, “but she’s just cool. I don’t know, dude. I just want to get to know her more.”

“So what does it matter if you like her? Just get to know her.” Coming from Osamu it seems simpler. Sometimes his thoughts can run off, get muddled and confused and overwhelming. But Osamu’s always been the calmer, the one who can keep him on track and call him out when he needs it. If Atsumu is a boat in a storm, Osamu is the anchor.

A few more words are spoken back and forth, general housekeeping to know what’s happening in each other's lives, before Osamu has to work, and Atsumu is left with his thoughts. There’s still that annoying doubt at the back of his mind. A little worm that’s dug so far down, even with someone else helping it’s hard to get out.

What if you don’t like him?

You apologise for his cold rosy cheeks and how long he had to sit and watch. He reassures you that he had fun, the both of you headed back outside into the heat of the city. You fall into place easily next to one another, walking by the river rather than ordering a car back to the hotel. Atsumu had persuaded you, protesting that without the warmth of the sun, how could he ever regain feeling in his nose.

“Next time you’ll have to get me on the ice.”

“You already impressed Faiz so much, are you sure you’re ready for the career change?”

“I’m sure a publicist could work it,” he’s quick to respond, holding hands out wide in front of the both of you, “I can see it now. The great Miya Atsumu conquers the ice skating world. Is there anything he can’t get gold in?”

“Real humble, Miya,” you say with an exasperated smile.

“Miya?” he echoes, “and here I thought I was gonna get a nickname.”

You’re either looking up at him with a quizzical stare or the afternoon sun is in your eyes. Either way Atsumu notes that it’s a cute expression, one that brings out the flecks of colour in your irises.

Pausing for a moment, people shuffle around you, going about their days in the city. Bringing his lips to your ear, you can feel the width of his smile on your cheek. “‘Tsumu, ‘Tsumu, please ‘Tsumu” he whispers the whines - your whines - much to your dismay.

Pushing him away, you’re only reminded of the hard planes of his abs, and now there’s definitely heat rising in your face. “Shut it Miya,” you wish you said with more defiance. Your grumble let’s him know he’s won your embarrassment.

“Thought ya liked it when I talked,” he teases, twisting you around by the shoulder to keep walking. The way you try and avoid eye contact only makes him want it more, and deciding between poking fun and giving in is all too difficult.

You come around quickly though, Atsumu using his seemingly effortless charisma to smooth over jokes, bring you back out of your shell. There’s a feeling that he can, innately, get people on his side. Despite his seeming arrogance and over-confidence, he takes the quips you throw at him on his shoulder. Letting deep chuckles spill off his tongue and reassuring touches whenever he responds in a similar jest.

Atsumu tugs you left and right, pointing your way back to the hotel with ease. The walk proves longer than the twenty minutes Google Maps promised you, trusting Atsumu when he says he ‘knows these streets like the back of his hand’. He does know them pretty well, at least knows that right turns should in fact be left. But the banter and laughter you two are sharing is doing more to him than the sun. It’s still surface level, discussions about plans for the week, where your home is. There’s a segment featuring each of your favorite colours, foods and films.

“Really? Rear Window?”

“What? It’s a classic!”

“The fact that you’ve even seen it surprises me.”

He goes on to explain that yes, it was the only film available at the hotel, but that he admired the determination of the main character. You wouldn’t have pegged him for watching anything considered old, or classic, let alone admiring the story. “And Grace Kelly, right?”

“I mean,” he begins sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck “yeah but—”

Your giggles quiet him.

Eventually you’re back where it began, standing outside the hotel looking at one another.

“So, are you goin’ give me your number or am I goin’ to have to beg you for it?”

“Oh, there’s a chance you’ll beg for it?”

You don’t miss the glint in his eyes, flashing quickly before it passes. “Is that a no, Goldie?”

It would be easier if it was a no. Your hands are acting on want, pulling your phone out and handing it to him with contact screen open before you can think too much about it.

“You better text me.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Atsumu hopes that you will. Maybe asking him to a meal or if you need him again, to your room. He settles that want next to another. No running before you can even walk. Like Osamu said, just getting to know one another.

Afternoon practice is long. Time spent sweating and running and jumping for hours away from his phone. He’s thinking about hyper active teammates, making sure he’s setting just right for them. Touching you right. All of his energy spent on the blue and yellow ball before him. Spending his energy on you. Then he’s on to letting his mind be consumed by proteins and carbs and what he can eat over the next week. Maybe just a film in, rather than dinner out. Thinking about Kiyoomi who’s acting all analytical, watching the group and remarking on Atsumu’s performance.

“You seem distracted.”

But he’s not, of course. He can laugh it off and joke around with Bokuto in the locker room. Purposefully not thinking about earlier in the day. His heart wouldn’t race when he finally can open up his phone. It wouldn’t thump in his chest when he checks his notifications.

Unknown Number // 5:48pm

>> i can’t think of anything cool to say so

>> hi tsumu✨

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