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missbeautyandherbeast · 5 months

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Ways to My Heart

Donatello X Reader

Summary: Request: Originally based on “Ways to Break My Heart” by Ed Sheeran but it got healthier

A/n: Apparently I appear every Christmas and rewrite an old prompt. And now that I'm older and healthier, it's kinda fun. And y'all were right, we're not about to be a rebound. So, for my dear @witchancunin, I hope you don't mind that it's been four years.

Autumn was settling in. With the wave after wave of rain that we had, there were little colors to the dying trees. Some scientific reason about fungi and decay. Donnie had explained it, but I barely payed attention.

Not that I wasn’t paying attention to him: I was too focused. We were working on a new lego set and I had one to many to drink to pit the small plastic pieces together so he took over and his fingers though larger than mine, were so nimble and they pursued the legos with ease as he assembled a BD-1 droid: my present to him after we finished The Fallen Order together.

The thought of us playing made me smile. I played through most of the game, getting my Star Wars fix, but when it became too difficult, I’d get so frustrated and Donnie would laugh and take the controller from me and defeat whatever stood in my way. I loved and hated him for it.

But that didn’t change the fact that New York was wet and colorless.

I took the hidden alley, now slick with today’s chilled rain, and followed the path down to his home and the warmth it offered. And when winter came and I missed the heat of my hometown—which was safe and sound in the middle of Georgia—four brothers did their best to keep me temperate: Mikey was all hugs; Raphael actually knitted me a sweater last winter (yes it was purple, no I don’t want to talk about it); Leo let me invade his space now and again if he was meditating; and Donnie… well there was no place warmer than his lab. Between the tech and the constant blush he knew how to get on my face and down my neck… it was where I spent most of my time.

“Still no color,” I sighed, shrugging off my coat and hanging it in my usual spot by his door.

“I told you there wouldn’t bet be,” His eyes flashed to mine before returning to his project.

“A girl can dream,” A smile touched my lips as I wandered over to see what he was working on.

In front of him was a circuit board and he was soldering wires to the metal with such precision. I left him to it, having no idea the plans in his head of creation, and I found my book on one of his other work stations. Picking it up, I resumed reading—a romance novel I let myself indulge in now and again when I was over stressed. This one was about chess and it was set in Jersey, which I found hysterical.

I must have made a sound, or a face, or some sort of tell because I heard his voice pulling me from the fictional world.

“What did Nolan do now?” Donnie asked, pushing back from his desk and over to where I was curled up.

“Not Nolan,” the story’s main guy. “It’s Oz. He’s definitely telling off Mallory right now,”

“Oooo what did she do?” I had his full attention. And it wasn’t the first time. He insisted that every time I read a book I tell him about it, despite the many insistings that he read them himself.

“I like your perspective,” He told me once. “Books are dull, dry, but you bring them alive,”

So, I launched into the tale, weaving the complexities of the plot with my words and gestures, the poor book being waved around. And all the while his eyes stayed on mine, and he gave the softest smile that belonged to only me.

He always kept me warm.

When it go late enough, and we had joined his family in having pizza and watching tv (we were currently going through the newer She-Ra on Netflix), I had to trek back out into the cold.

“Let me take you home,” Donnie piped up, seeing me get my coat and boots.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” I rolled my eyes.

“I know,” He said with such certainty. “Let me do it anyway.” There was that warmth again.

“Okay,”

Raph gave me a knowing look but I ignored him.

And like greeting an old friend, we had our routine. Donnie would stay, and we’d curl up on my couch and watch old reruns of Doctor Who until we were both asleep in the comfort of my apartment.

And it was warm.

……………………………….

Then April came.

And God it was so nice to have a friend who was in on the secret. We explored New York together, had movie nights, and so many girl talks that may have involved some alcohol.

But it meant I had to watch Donnie fall head over heels for her—from my usual spot in his lab, as he showed her all of his projects, chattering happily.

I told myself it didn’t bother me. And it didn’t.

Sorta.

Maybe?

Shut up.

Hiding it from Donnie was easy. Hiding it from the rest of his family? Not so much.

“You okay kid?” Raph asked, standing beside me as Donnie explained the entire Shell-Razer to April.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” My voice was low.

“Because my brother’s an ass,”

I laughed humorlessly. “We weren’t together Raph.” A shrug fell from my shoulders as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to fight off the lingering chill. “It’s fine. I’m—fine.”

It was a few weeks later that I came to the lair; always having an excuse to not accompany April. I could see it in her eyes that she knew something was up, but she didn’t call me out on it—yet.

“Miss Y/n,” Splinter stopped me as I entered.

“Master Splinter,” I gave a small head nod.

“Let’s talk child,” His words caught me off guard.

“Um. Okay,” I followed him to the meditation room that was lit softly with sparse candles.

“You have not been coming around as often.” It was a statement. Not a question.

“Yeah,” I knew no excuse would work on the old master, and the father of four boys.

“Is everything alright?” He rose an eyebrow and I gave a feeble lie:

“Yeah,”

He nodded. “Let’s try that again. Everything is not alright.”

Tears glossed my vision and the familiar pain flooded my chest like ice. I tilted my chin back, holding my head high.

“Master, there’s nothing I can do.” I opened my mouth to continue trying to find the courage. “I care deeply for him,” My eyes trained on a candle flame. “But I never told him and… that’s my consequence to live with,”

“I see,” His wise voice held so much understanding that it washed over me. “And because of that choice, you do not come around as often?”

“It hurts less,” That was the simple fact. “I don’t have to watch him…”

“Chase after April?” Splinter filled in knowing.

“Yeah.”

He nodded. “Perhaps you and April should talk,”

“Look, I don’t—“

“Y/n,” He cut me off and I pursed my lips. “April is your best friend, and I have a feeling she wants to help you,”

“I know,” He was right, and maybe hearing git gave me the courage to say something after all. A smile touched my lips. “Thanks Sensei.”

“I care about my family,” He said. “And that includes my daughters,”

Tears stung my eyes again as he gave me a hug.

“Thank you,”

“Of course, child,”

……………………………………….

April and I did sit down and talk. More of she called me out on moping and avoiding the subject. So, we sat on our fire escape and talked. About everything.

She knew when she first got there that there was something going on between Donnie and me. And though she loved the brothers, she didn’t like Donnie that way. She also knew that was the reason I was avoiding going to the lair.

“I’m sorry,” She said.

“For what?” I almost laughed.

“Because, before I came, there would have been no doubt that you and Donnie would be together by now,”

“Hey I wouldn’t trade you for anything,” I smiled. “And if… if Donnie wants to be… whatever the heck this is, I can handle it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” April said. “I want you to be happy Y/n. And I want you back at the lair. I… I just want you to have your life back,”

“It wouldn’t be as fun without you.”

“I know,” She laughed. “But I am going to talk to Donnie,” She must have seen the horror on my face. “Not about you! God no! But I’m gonna tell him that I don’t feel that way about him, and hopefully he gets the message,”

I nodded. “Thanks April,”

When April had told me that Donnie took their talk semi-well, I still gave it a few weeks before I headed to the lair, not wanting to have to pick up the aftermath of his shattered fantasy.

With end of Spring, I had my family back.

There was a cool distance between Donnie and I that was slowly thawing until I was back in his lab reading and he was fidgeting with his tools. It took another week for him to ask me about my book. And another week for him to take me home. And a few more days for his smile to be back. And a couple more for mine to stay. I wrestled with what had happened in the winter and spring, trying to look for the other shoe to drop.

But when the six of us played a board game, or watched movies or even had dinner, all that was felt was camaraderie. Donnie didn’t notice April anymore and he backed down. Raph kept a careful eye just like I did. When he caught my stare, Raph rose an eyebrow at me, glancing to Donnie. I shrugged and smiled.

I didn’t know.

And I think that was okay.

I think I was okay.

With summer, meant my birthday. June 14th. The boys and April insisted on throwing a big party for me in the lair with cake and presents and music and dancing. I hadn’t laughed so much in months.

Donnie offered to walk me home, like always. Like old times. Like now.

We were standing on my roof, all I had to do was climb down the fire escape to the apartment April and I shared.

“Happy birthday,” His smile was back, and God I had missed it. All of the careful walls I had built around myself came crashing down at the simple gesture.

“Thanks Donnie,”

And in the starlight of the roof, alone with the city alive beneath us, he leaned in and his lips were on mine. A stolen kiss that had me wrecked.

Donnie pulled away, wonder in my eyes, and confusion in his.

“I—I’m sorry,” He stammered out, his brows pulling together.

“It’s… it’s okay,” I managed a smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, backing away. “That… I didn’t mean—it was a mistake,” He choked out.

My body jerked back with the rejection that crashed over it.

“What?” My voice was as cold as ice.

“I—I don’t know why I did that.”

“Oh, okay,” I managed.

He was gone like a shadow in the night and I stood there frozen.

…………………………………

I must have been up there for too long, because April came up to find me.

“Hey are you okay?” Her voice was concerned.

“Um,” Was all I could manage.

“What happened? Donnie came back and he’s not talking. He’s barricaded himself in his lab.”

“Um.” I said again. “He… he kissed me.”

“Oh my God that’s amazing!” April celebrated, but paused when she saw the dread in my eyes. “Then what happened?”

“He. Um. Said it was a mistake.” I choked out.

“I—I’m—I’m actually going to kill him,” April said. “He said that? To you!? After kissing you!?” She was outraged, and maybe I should have been too, but it was like my entire body had gone into a comatose. She took my hands into hers. I met her eyes. Tears finally thawed and started to fall.

“Oh, honey come here,” She pulled me into a hug and I started crying. Every tear I had denied finally rushed forward, and soon I was sobbing on that roof.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked her, miserable. We had made it back to the flat, and we were curled up on my bed.

“No, honey, you didn’t.” April soothed, petting my hair.

The next morning he was standing in my living room. The two of us. Standing like we had not twenty four hours ago. But the morning was different. Now I couldn’t bare to be near him. It was only because April said I should at least get closure this time that I was even out here.

I stared at him, my lips pursed, waiting for him to say something.

“I’m sorry,” He blurted out. “That—what I said, it wasn’t what I meant.” He started pacing anxiously. “Look, I know that I hurt you with that whole April thing, and I haven’t apologized for that and I really should and I want to!” His words began tumbling together in his nervousness. “And I wanted to do that before I ever did anything else, and God definitely before kissing you, but you were there so close on that roof and you were just beautiful, and I—I’m so sorry,”

I blinked. My face when through a series of expressions before settling on shocked confusion.

“I know!” Donnie insisted. “God, I know and I’m so sorry Y/n. Especially for not explaining last night. But I was panicking and—“ He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for chasing after April like I did. I genuinely thought that you’d never want me like that. And that was a dick thing for me to do. And I’m sorry for hurting you for so long.” He smiled a bit. “And I’m sorry for crossing your boundaries last night. And for not sticking around and explaining. Also a dick move on my part. So… yeah,” He nodded, not daring to meet my eyes.

“Um. Okay,” I managed. “Uh… wow.”

“I know it’s a lot. I’m sorry,” He said.

“You can stop apologizing Donnie,” I gave a small laugh. “That’s um… alright. Thanks? I think?”

“Are you mad?” His eyes met mine. “I don’t know…” I confessed. “Um I think I need a minute. Or two,”

“Right! Yeah! Of course! Take as much time as you need!” He said backing away. “Um—I’m gonna go and give you space, but you can come over or call or anything anytime—we are still having game night tonight, so if you want to come—not that you have to!” He was an anxious mess again.

I placed my hand on his arm to stop him. “Thank you,” I smiled pointedly.

“Right, um… I’ll just be off then,” He nodded, backing away. “Bye.”

“Bye?” I laughed. And like that he was gone again. “Hey April?” I called, knowing she heard all of that.

She emerged from her room.

“You heard all of that right?” I clarified.

“Every word,” She was grinning.

“Why does it all feel so weird?” I asked. “Like really weird.”

“Because that my dear,” April said. “Was emotional maturity.”

“Is that what that looks like?”

“For the most part,” April nodded. “So, what are you feeling?”

“That, it all makes sense? And I want to believe him? And that its still really weird,”

“All fair feelings,” April said.

The hours ticked by until game night at the lair. April and I had gone back and forth about going or not. And when it came time to it… I was putting on my sneakers and grabbing my bag.

I walked into the lair and I felt every stare on me. I was only looking for one gaze though.

“Hey,” He said, getting up, looking genuinely surprised that I was there.

“Hey.” I smiled. “Can we talk?”

Tags: @brightlotusmoon@boatloadsofheart@legandarybeauty@crazywritingbug@bitch-kms@ravn-87@just-a-casual-fangirl-011@unicornjoos @stuckoutsideofthebox@ilikestuffproductions@whygz@coffee-addicti@sugarspooks15@leslieebee@serperiorkb@blossom-skies@fantastical-67impala-fangirl@coresan@big-banging-red@iceprincess2019@raphaeladdict@thirstyforvenom @merindagriese@depressedemo-152@bengewatch@corabmarie@bitemebro522@tmnt-queen@muleka-loka@violet-sky-96 @curadopordeus@artemismohr18 @thewhisperpen @xjupitermoonsx@bisexualbumblebeesstuf f @merindagriese @oceans-daughter-3 @dixonreedusfangirlforever@shanidenise@thegayestfish441@lovelyyroseee@yourlieberhoe@dolphincommander@molzies-fanfics@fuzzy-panda@msmcsmutt @zombiesnips-blog

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bonefall · 9 months

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You've single handedly dragged me back into the warriors fandom with your warriors overhaul and as a consequence I've been dragged back to my ocs, so I decided to give clanmew names a whirl for the biggest one I've got, sheepstrike!

During a particularly hard leafbare, the prey in the moors wasn't enough to sustain windclan, leading to a starvation event similar to the great hunger seen in goosefeathers curse. With many of the weaker cats already having died, the clan was growing desperate, and a then generically named curlyfur (fofwarrlfaf, curled fur, named for a curly fur genetic mutation) stepped up with a risky plan: sneak into the twoleg farm and steal one of the sheep once they were let out in the fields. While the clan cats would normally not do something to potentially provoke the twolegs, at this point they were desperate enough to try, which lead to an eventually successful raid. While the raid was a group effort, the windclan cats attributed their survival to the cat who came up with the daring plan. Curlyfur was then given the honor title Sheepstrike, which I've translated as baabakorren, baa meaning sheep and bakorren meaning to use/make use of. While her original name focused more on the actual acquisition of the sheep, her clanmew translation ended up focusing more on the use of the body, as the sheep not only fed the clan but also kept them warm with the use of its wool, and gave them materials to make future tools with the use of its bones.

Her name would have been easier to translate, but I took it a step further and decided to try and keep the alliteration as a fun little challenge. Maybe it's a fun little naming quirk of the windclan leader? Who knows? All I know is I made things needlessly difficult shuffling through the clanmew lexicon finding any verb that started with the letter b and shoving it against baa to see if it fit.

(I also gave naming her littermate Cornflower a whirl and ended up with Mooheqmwaron, mooheq meaning corn and mwaron meaning bloomed. As a young kit and apprentice cornpaw was rather skittish, but after a bit of socializing she grew into quite the social butterfly, becoming a popular figure at gatherings. The prefix corn was used because of her yellow coat color and her clans close location to a farm, and the suffix flower/bloomed was used in reference to the fact that she grew into herself and metaphorically became a bright and beautiful flower. Her original name is also a bit of a fun jab at cornflour, since I picture her having a grand old time with kitchen duty, specifically the baking of tunnelbuns)

If people keep sharing cool OCs that draw inspiration from BB, I'm going to have to find some way to boost them. Some people understand the assignment and absolutely knock it out of the park!

Speaking of sheep-killing... I am actually planning a minor subplot in BB!DOTC relating to sheep. I think I may have mentioned it in passing at some point, but in a nutshell, there's a point after the formation of ThunderClan where Thunder Storm and the Gang are negotiating with the River Kingdom, Shadow's Clan, and the Wind Coalition.

To stay on their good side, the Wind Coalition employs them for a while to teach them the secret of killing sheep, something that Tribe cats know how to do. But they quickly find out that the reason the Wind's Runner sent them to do this isn't because they're better at killing sheep, but because there is a vicious collie and she wants to see what they do with a sudden challenge.

As a result of what happens here, sheep become much more closely managed and killing them becomes too hard to do casually for future generations. WindClan also carries an important cultural memory from the event; that stealing from humans means more dogs on the moor.

(Also the border collie's name is Hamish, for no particular reason. I just think it's a cute name.)

But anyway! Onto some new words for you!

The word "mooheq" is actually made during the Sundrown Patrol! Corn was only 'discovered' and named after the Clan cats settled at the lake, because of passing through so many farms to find Sanctuary Lake. Before then, all of the strange, unnatural-looking plants grown by humans are called Yoshepe.

It's why they don't have words for most farm animals (chickens, goats) or any other common crop, like tomatoes, potatoes, or lettuce. Only particularly noteworthy human products are given names, like the unsettlingly red domestic rose or medically valuable catmint.

So for Cornflower, if she's from a time before the Lake before they invented Mooheq, I've gone and gotten three plants for you. Two to keep a "direct" translation and one to hopefully keep the "vibe"

Cornflower (Centaurea cyanus) AKA Bachelor's Button = Kerrma This plant (and the next one) are actually named for a very interesting reason; they're 'parasites' of cereal-crop fields. Before industrialization, they carved out a little niche as grain impostors, and humans would unwittingly sew them along with the crop. Kerrma is blue and fluffy, valued for its beauty.

Corn Cockle (Agrostemma githago) = Mwirrma While Kerrma is pretty, safe, and a bit more 'delicate,' Mwirrma is an unkillable weed. Poisonous and seen in cornfields, roadsides, and disturbed areas, this pink flower is seen as a reminder to "be careful" when doing something as risky as visiting a human grain field.

Sunflower (Helianthus annuus) = Awlpon I was actually ready to rule against having a word for Sunflower in base Clanmew, then I learned that sunflowers can naturalize themselves in this area, in addition to being a very common crop. So this is one of the few human crops that Clan cats have a name for. It's yellow, it's grown by farms, it's bright and cheerful and faces the sun. If none of the other two tickle your fancy, here's one for Cornflower's vibes!

#clanmew

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perryisle · 9 months

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🚆 📎 💡 🌌 💢

answers below cut!!!

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

vinny kind of wouldn’t care how many people the trolley hits at first bc like. he never knew them Personally or anything so they don’t really matter to him. but one part of him would want the trolley to go on five people because “it would be funny” and another part of him would want the trolley to hit one person because less people get killed and he’s a lot more considerate about not hurting Actual Human Beings than demons (he doesn’t really show others that side of him though + he doesn’t really think about Bein Nice to people for most of the story)

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

vinny can kind of sort of play the bass!! i imagine he hasn’t really played it since high school and is considering playing it again For Fun (a guy needs more hobbies yknow)

💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it?

doing this with three characters!!!

lance plans a lot and i imagine he has a pretty good memory so he just Knows when to do stuff and what to do without any tools (like notes or whatever). also he has a lot of backup plans when things go wrong

mae tries her best to plan (she frequently sets reminders n crap) but usually she forgets what to do or decides to not do what she originally had planned earlier

vinny does not think at all he just does whatever

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

ive had the idea of lance for a very long time (since crit dmg’s early development in 2021) and the first thing ive decided about him was that he was some dude that used to be associated with ENDS and wore a yellow scarf (bc haha funny primary color things)

some major inspo for him includes henry from no more heroes, fifteen from katana zero (kz is a very good game btw go play it if you’re interested), and aki from chainsaw man. as for design inspo mr. doppelganger from travis strikes again contributed a lot to his design (ESPECIALLY with the scarf + long coat combo and his heterochromia)

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

wow these answers are becoming very vinny-centric!! anyways i don’t know if this would count as a habit but vinny really has to get used to bein fuckin nice to people for once. like come on dude you’re like protecting people now you really don’t need to be assholes to em yknow!! i imagine most of his character arc involves taking his job more seriously and learning how to be more comfortable with showing kindness to others. at the end of his arc hes still VERY into beating up demons but he mostly does it for his friends and the people that live in turnstyle yknow (at the VERY least he’s still snarky and has that edgy anti hero attitude but more nice in the end)

#perry ocs #perry answers #oc talk #ask game #ask #critical damage!!#vinny (oc)#lance (oc)#mae (oc)#long post #the first and last questions really got me really thinking about rewriting vinnys backstory and arc a little bit #bc like. looking at it now I Could Change A Few Things

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destinywillowleaf · 2 years

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hey @greentrickster i made a basically full (rough) spriteset for this AU. literally the only things missing are his 6-5 breakdown and a version of Apollo's disheartened sprite(cause he looks more frazzled than disheartened or discouraged at the end of his surprise set(s)) and it would be done.

also featuring "Nahyuta is vaguely like a fallen angel" in color because it turns out the implications his scarf had were "another Japanese cultural shorthand that conveys Nahyuta’s holiness and suggests that he is like a god" and "not unlike a character with a pair of angel wings in the West" so that's. fun. (both links lead to the same page btw) not sure how godly Apollo get to be as a result. probably not that much tbh sorry bro.

anyway, sprites! in order, top to bottom, left to right, left page!

normal/neutral, thinking (and transition into talking and thinking, the side profile is a reference for how his hand's positioned), desk slam into determined (his left hand comes up and is a fist on the desk), objection point, confident (two versions).

right page!

shock 1, shock 2 and its progression, shock 1 resolution (because i forgot it before), nod, shake head, embarrassed.

fun facts/information about the choices made in the sprites under the cut~

Nahyuta keeps his arm around his back because he's mimicking Kristoph when he was standing as co-counsel (and also because that's just what he does in canon :P but here it's more of a mimic). He can take off a coat easily but mimic poses are harder to break.

his thinking animation has a fist to his mouth because i do that sometimes and this is my AU and he should have a unique pose. originally was considering keeping his arm behind his back and still might do that instead?? it works either way really

desk slam is mostly based on his canon slam, but without the beads. It's just a forearm and fist into the bench together, with his arm sort of parallel to the front of the bench instead of perpendicular (mostly to differentiate himself a bit from Asogi)

the determination pose changes the angle of the arm and adds his other hand to the bench. it's supposed to be able to slide into his breakdown (with a change in face, of course) with the vague plans i have for it now

also the main reason he gestures with his right is cause i thought it'd be fun since prosecutors use right arms/hands and defense attorneys use their left arms/hands. so what if Nahyuta just. didn't get with the program.

idk what i want his confident post to be but crossed arms is always an option. could be unique, could get in another mimic. (also if you can't read it the additional text is just saying the weird colors are a bleed-through from the colortest Apollos on the previous page)

why shock 1 and shock 2: you know how Apollo as of soj (and maybe dd) has two version of his shock animation where one has his mouth crack open like the og sprite. it's sorta like that. shock 2 is for more intense surprise which is why the papers float, Nahyuta pauses to see the floating pages (eyes dart from one side to the other), and then slaps them down to try and regain composure. also because green suggested it near the start of this whole AU and i love it. that was so much fun to draw.

i also have no idea what i actually want his embarrassed sprite to look like. awkward smile is probably gonna stick around though. it's funny.

important note, cosmic turnabout would be the same animations but the bits of hair in front are braided into the rest. he's not letting his emotions show as much. there might be an additional damage animation where he just flinches and grabs his prayer beads for this section.

when he's got Clay's jacket, it's sort of worn like Dhurke's because i like parallels and no one can stop me. maybe his arm is also actually broken but i haven't decided yet. what matters is that he refuses to use his right arm because he can feel a burning sensation from the Defiant Dragons tattoo due to his failure to his friend and he's just having a rough time of it all. also there's a non-zero chance his hair would be down more if he can't use his right arm 👀

#prosecutor apollo attorney nahyuta au #auta sahdmadhi #nahyuta sahdmadhi #his t-shirt is from opening week 2021 (which. might not be a thing at other colleges) and his mug says ''NO MUGS HAVE MY NAME''#the lack of color coordination here is the real reason why kristoph wanted to make sure his court attire looked professional lol #everything is in lowercase cause it's like 1 AM and i'm making what most people call a Bad Decision #but as always i'm really grateful that green let me sort of take this AU and run with it because it's been so much fun #doodling and plot-developing (and while i might not ever get around to writing the ENTIRE thing. scenes might still crop up eventually)

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mishwanders · 1 year

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Man! I love ocs! I have my boy Lloyd. Love how you represent Mat with dead crows, that’s badass! My oc, Lloyd represents a buck, he’s supposed to have a patch of a deer on his coat. :3 But I would love to hear more about your character(s) people have such amazing stories and ideas!

Same! I find that most of the things I read are OC stories versus reader stuff, even though it’s opposite with my writing - reader inserts primarily what I be writing at the moment lmao. OKAY BUT I NOW WANT TO KNOW MORE ABOUT LLOYD!! I love animal symbolism’s with characters and deers have always had my heart (literally have a tattoo of a deer skull on me lmao).

If you want to hear more about my characters - then you’re in for a ride! I still need to do some character intros for the others (already finished Sorina Spencer’s), but that’s for when I have the brain power to do so. I’m planning on doing a 5 part series that follows all four of my ocs and their involvement throughout the RE timeline to which they’ll all come together in the end to help bring about Miranda’s downfall, but that’s after I finish my reader insert stories ~

Anyway, for those who want to see info about my ocs, it’s under the cut so I don’t fill your feed with my nonsense lmao

ALRIGHT SO HERE WE GO!

Before we start here’s a fun fact about them: they’re all disabled in some way and queer. Sorina (bi) becomes an amputee, Matilda (pan/gender-fluid) is a cane user, Ricardo (gay) loses an eye, and Elena (bi/trans) gets infected with the mold/Cadou combo which exacerbates her auto immune disorders and chronic pain.

Sorina Spencer: one of my new ocs, doesn’t have a story done yet, and to be honest she came about because I really wanted to have a character play with the big dogs of the umbrella underworld and make it really game of thrones-escque with the politics of it. Just think Circi + Danny combined. She’s an absolute bitch who’s hungry for power and I love it for her.

Ricardo Santos: Like Sorina, doesn’t have a written story yet but that’s okay because it’s coming up. He’s a sweetheart when he wants to be - and really only Hunk gets to see that. Most of the other times he’s cool and calculated serving out his Justice/orders for Umbrella and Sorina. Really he came about because I wanted to put a character with Hunk for a while and I thought giving him a witchyman who also works for Umbrella would be an interesting one. Ricardo serves Santa Muerte and is constantly doing what he can to make sure Hunk gets out safely - even reaching out to those on the other side to do so. After Raccoon City though, he has new orders to take a look at the disappearance of souls in Romania.

Matilda Costache: Now Mat has a written story already called Phantom Sins that it’s in my Long Reads, BUT I’m repurposing them in this new story I’m planning out. Instead of being romantically involved with demon Leon and demon chris tho - Mat’s going to be in a relationship with Mother Miranda, which then leads to them being caught in the middle of it all and trying to decide whether they should betray the woman they love or not. I still really enjoy the fact that they’re two sides of the same coin and want to explore that more in this. I just really want to explore Mother Miranda in a relationship and see how that would change her attitude towards some things, so that’s why I’m throwing them together. Was originally gonna do Heisenberg but decided against it because those two are basically family to me and it just felt weird.

Elena Winters: my sweet girl and the first OC I ever made! I had a whole 50+ chapter story for her before but I scrapped it and am now repurposing her for this new story and returning to my original ideas I had for her. Basically she’s Ethan’s older sister and she gets dragged to go with him to Louisiana to find Mia and shit gets fucked. It’s how she meets Chris (during the not a hero DLC stuff) and has to come to terms with her infections now and how to use them to help others and keep her family safe. Sorina becomes a part of her life through Mia and is actually the one who gives the BSAA an anonymous tip about what was happening on the ranch. Consider the Winters family that woman’s redemption arc.

Which like, all of that to say - the ending of it (RE8) will be interesting because it’s going to be written from all of their points of view and what they’re doing on the ground along with the main characters to stop Mother Miranda.

If there’s any character you want me to talk about specifically let me know 🤣 there’s still so much I could talk about, you just don’t even know lmao

#mish rambles #just rambling about my ocs #oc: matilda costache #oc: sorina spencer #oc: ricardo luis santos #oc: elena winters

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thygoddessouijathicc · 2 years

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Here comes the girl~

Hello nonexistent Ouija fans who I hope might exist someday, it is I, your best friend and ultra POGCHAMP Ouija.

I have been mentioning a character by the name of “Faria” in a lot of posts, and even made one generally explaining who she is and why her design was taking so long. (School, rotation issues, motivation).

At long last, she has arriveth.

This is Faria Nightingale (pronounced Farrah, but it’s spelled bad), the coat design is her official one, but I also wanted to show her without it. She was raised for the equivalent of dogfighting, and likely has Histronic Personality Disorder, although that is not set in stone. I can’t reveal too much more of her backstory, so that’s all you get so far.

Faria stands at a hight or 6’4”, and has a healing factor like Wolverine, although she can be killed, as long as it’s quick enough that her healing won’t kick in.

Faria has a somewhat raunchy sense of humour, and makes a lot of TV show references. She is bisexual with a preference for girls, and I’ll just save myself the pain of waiting years for myself to begin the actual PH comic and then have to wait even longer to make Sapphire x Faria canon, and you from the pain of knowing for a fact these two are going to be together because Faria starts flirting with Sapphire right out of the gate and Sapphire is CLEARLY not as opposed to it as she claims to be, and having to suffer though my planned will-they-wont-they anyway, and just say, they will.

Faria and Sapphire will end up as a couple, it will just take some time. And since I’m the author of PH and I say these two are dating, it is now immediately canon forever no takebacksies. Btw, I have named the ship SaFaria, but that name kinda sucks.

Random fact: Faria is entirely illiterate, and Sapphire tried to teach her how to read, but she made a few too many jokes about Sapphire being her sexy tutor, so Sapphire declared Faria will just remain illiterate forever.

Faria takes inspiration from a lot of characters, originally Underfell Sans because I started in the UT fandom, but now the only parts remaining of that are the fact she’s a monster, and she has a golden tooth.

Currently she’s taking inspiration from Issac Foster from Angels of Death, Dave Miller (DSAF version of course), and weirdly enough, Beetlejuice.

Final fun fact: In older versions, Faria used knives or at one point, a chainsaw as a primary weapon, but then I realized: 6’4” cat monster trained to kill with claws, fangs, who has hands big enough to potentially crush your skull, and can fit your head in her mouth, she don’t need a weapon, she is the weapon.

If you have any comments please comment or something.

Cyanran~

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seiyasabi · 2 years

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Hunters vs Gatherers

(This is a Yandere Ushijima x Girly Fem Reader x Yandere Tendou story! I decided to do somewhat of a Halloween special, because this is a Leather face AU! Homie is already a farmer boy, so I thought this au was perfect for him :P

if someone has already done this idea, please dm me the original creator, so I can give them credit :))

TW: !cannibalism!, !noncon aspects!, killer au!, misogyny!, Ushi is scary af, bodily harm!, TENDOU is super creepy!, ur friends die!, etc..

Please proceed with caution!)

“I don’t like this, guys. I think we’re trespassing-“

“You’re worrying too much, (Your Name)! The owners will totally understand us coming onto their property! They’re the only people for miles!” Your friend, Hina, interrupted your anxiety coated words. Your other friends give grumbles of agreement at her seemingly disarming words, but you aren’t so convinced.

There was a sign on the edge of the property clearly stating ‘Trespassers Will be Dealt With Accordingly,’ which immediately put you on edge. Most signs would say ‘trespassing prohibited’ or ‘beware of dog,’ not a blatant threat!

You should’ve known better than to go on this damn road trip. Your friends told you it would be fun driving across the country to see a rando rock band they stan, but the moment your friend, Riyuu’s, van started to stall, you realised how wrong they were. So, here you were, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, completely surrounded by wilderness. Of course, there was no cell reception. The last town was over 20 miles behind you, so your dumbass friends reasoned that walking forward was the best option. Clearly, they were wrong. The only thing you found in the past ten miles is the farm you’re currently trespassing onto.

The grounds were maintained, but clearly outdated. A beater of a pick up was at the opening of a rice field, and there was an old fashioned house and barn far into the property. It seems like there’s multiple areas of vegetables, grains, and animals.

Yet, this fact didn’t stop your stupid friends. Their loud footsteps and voices visibly and audibly spooked the animals on the property, creating a chorus of whines and bleats.

“Let’s turn back- it’s disrespectful to go onto other people’s land. And look! You’re scaring the animals… I doubt the owners would like that,” Even though it’s in vain, you still try to convince them to abandon this plan.

“(Your Name), chill out. If you don’t want to continue, that’s on you. Feel free to make the trek back to the car- we won’t stop you. I knew we shouldn’t have invited you,” Kaneki, your friend Mina’s boyfriend, spats out viscously. Your four friends are all in established relationships, but Mina and Hina (twins) invited you anyway. You’ve known them since childhood, after all.

“Hey, don’t say that! She’s our best friend,” Hina spits back with just as much venom, but the damage has already been done, especially when Mina and Riyuu shift uncomfortably.

“I mean, all she’s done is bitch about us being here…” Riyuu says nonchalantly, causing a warm feeling of mortification to wash over you.

“That’s not true! This is a stressful situation, so it makes sense why she’s on edge, especially after that creepy sign!” Mina still says nothing, as her twin continues to defend you.

By this point, you wish to just melt into the ground and disappear. Three out of the five of you seemingly don’t want you here, but there’s nothing the lot of you can currently do about it.

“Whatever, Hina. Let’s just continue on- if we’re lucky, we can reach the farm house before it’s dark.”

Your group continues walking for around ten minutes more, before Riyuu speaks, “Why don’t we split up? We’ll be able to cover more ground if we do.”

Seemingly realising the connotation of his words, Kaneki smirks, “That’s a great idea! I’ll go with Hina, you with Mina, and (Your Name) can go off on her own.”

“I-I’m not too sure if splitting up is a good idea. What if the owners are dangerous?” Both men laugh at you, waving off your concern.

“Nah, you’ll be fine! What’re they gonna do? Kill you?” Kaneki grabs his girlfriend, who looks as concerned as you do.

“(Your Name) has a point. Why split up? We can’t even contact each other if we find the owners,” Her boyfriend shushes her, as the two couples start to tromp off in opposite directions, leaving you to head straight.

“(Your Name) is a big girl. She can handle herself,” They leave you standing there in the darkening field. Tears brim your eyes, as you will yourself not to cry. For the life of you, you can’t understand why yo yee best friends would date those two assholes. They’d been nothing but rude to you this entire trip, and only Hina is willing to call her man out on the bullshit he spews.

Taking in a deep breath, you start to walk forward, arms wrapped around your front to keep warm. You’d worn a cute pink blouse, a blue high waisted skort, and white sneakers, which, come to think of it, was the exact opposite of your black wearing friends. Maybe if you dressed and acted like them, you wouldn’t be excluded like this.

As your thoughts started to grow dark, you couldn't help but let a few tears drip down your perfectly painted face. They really screwed you over, huh?

Because of your pity party, you didn’t notice a large, lumbering figure appear in front of you, causing you to run directly into their broad chest. A cute Yelp escapes your lips, as you fall right on your ass. Thankfully, the shorts connected to your skirt stopped the man from seeing your most intimate parts.

The Green haired man peers down at you blankly, as he takes in your pretty appearance. He’s never seen someone like you before.

“I’m really sorry, Sir! I didn’t see you in front of me, and I just ran right into you! I promise I didn’t mean to-“ Instead of responding, he holds a rough hand out for you to take. You take it without question, allowing him to haul you to your feet. Now that you’re off the cool ground, you feel blood start to drip down the back of your thighs. Looks like you scraped yourself on the way down.

Without thinking, you release his hand, and open your pink purse (which matched perfectly with your blouse), withdrawing a few napkins, dabbing at your bleeding wounds, “Awe man,” You say with a furrowed brow, “At least they don’t hurt! But it sucks that I’m bleeding onto my cute skirt.”

Glancing up, you make eye contact with the stoic man, who is still in the same position as before. He’s just staring at you, which is somewhat unnerving, but because you’re in the middle of nowhere, you can only assume it’s a cultural thing, “Oh, I’m sorry again! It’s already bad enough that I trespassed onto your property, much less accidentally hurting you,” You bow deeply, allowing your hand that was previously dabbing at your wounds to limply fall to your side.

He says nothing, as you continue to hold your bow. For once, he thinks, there's someone who’s polite. Usually, those who trespassed would come at him sideways, resulting in their death earlier than normal. That’s what happened to the last group, the one with the beat up pick up truck.

Standing back to your normal height, you give the man a bright smile, “I don’t want to sound rude, but do you possibly have a phone I can use? My friends and I broke down a little ways away from here, and we need to call a mechanic for help.”

He continues to stay silent, but nods in acknowledgement. He then turns, and starts walking towards the house you see off in the distance. Taking that as an order to follow him, you start speed walking after him. This guy’s legs are too long to keep up with!

Noticing that you’re lagging behind, the man falters his pace, allowing you to catch up, “Oh, thank you! I’m sorry about that, your legs are a lot longer than mine,” The man in question is about a foot taller than your (height) stature.

He just stares at you for a long moment, processing what you just said, before he grabs at your hand. His rough palm cradles your soft one in a tight grip, as he starts walking once more, just at a slower pace. Surprised at the sudden contact, you try to bring your hand back to your side, but find yourself unable to get out of his viper-like grip.

Deciding against complaining, you allow him to drag you off.

“Now where were ya? You worried Mama sick,” A lively red head practically shouts the moment you both walk into the house. He goes to approach the large man, only to stop suddenly, eyes glued onto your form, “Oh, I see,” A smirk overtakes his features, “You found yourself a girlfriend? Well, she sure is pretty.”

The Green haired man’s blank look remains, despite the red head’s teasing. The new man just laughs at the awkward silence, as you shift uncomfortably. He still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, sir, but my friends and I-“ You’re interrupted by loud laughter.

“Waka, ya hear that? Your girlfriend just called me sir! You sure got a polite one,” The red head suddenly leans forward, practically nose to nose with you. He’s hunched over to match your height, looking like a ghoul in the darkening light. Someone needs to turn on the lights, lest he turn into your sleep paralysis demon. You can’t help the Yelp that leaves your lips, as you draw backwards, inadvertently shoving yourself into the greed haired man’s chest, “Awe, ain’t that cute! You jumpy, cutie? I’m gonna like-“ He’s cut off by ‘Waka,’ as he all but shoved his brother off of you.

“Enough,” He says simply, still holding your hand, but his free hand is still raised from when he shoved the creepy guy off of you. Seemingly stunned, the red head’s mouth is opening and closing like a fish out of water.

It looks as if the three of you would continue to be in a stand still, but a female voice snaps you all out of your stupor, “Now what in the hell is all that racket? If you boys don’t get in here right now, I’ll whoop you silly!”

This makes the boys move in autopilot. ‘Waka’ practically drags you with him into the foyer, forcing you to face the scary woman inside.

Inside the room, a strict looking woman is sitting on a lumpy couch. Her hands are neatly folded in her lap, while she all but glares at the three of you, “Now what in the world is going on? You boys best tell me-“ Her eyes finally focus on you, as you shuffle in discomfort. Her gaze is heavy, as she takes in your appearance, “Oh, I see. You’re both fighting over this pretty girl, are you?”

“No, Ma’am. Waka brought her in and I wanted to tease her a bit, but he got mad at me,” The red head is quick to set the story straight, not wanting to face the brunt of her anger.

She nods, never taking her eyes from you, “You got anything to say, girlie?”

Seemingly remembering your manners, you bow deeply at a 90 degree angle, “I’m very sorry for intruding, ma’am! My name is (Your Name)! I found your farmland with my friends after our car broke down, so we came to ask for your help! I’m not sure where they are, but I am very sorry for us coming here without your permission!” She says nothing, but nods to herself, seemingly thinking.

“I see,” She motions towards you, “Stand up, girl! I accept your apology,” You stand up quickly, your one hand still firmly held by the giant beside you. She eyes your hands, but doesn’t comment on it, “I am Ushijima Kiyoko and these are two of my sons; Wakatoshi and Satori. We welcome you here and promise to help you, as long as you help out around the home and land.”

You nod, but feel confused, “Thank you very much! Now, I’ll go find my friends, and we’ll-“ She holds up a hand, silencing you.

“Now, what kind of woman would I be if I let a pretty girl like you go hungry? I’ll feed ya before you go,” She motions towards Wakatoshi, beckoning him towards a room to the right of you, “Bring her to the living room ‘til dinner’s ready. I expect you boys to keep her company.”

Taking this as a sign to take your leave, you give her a quick bow and a ‘thank you very much,’ before you’re dragged towards a room filled with tchotchkes. There’s a beat up recliner beside a large, lumpy couch. They sit in front of a tube television, which is encased in a bookshelf that looks ancient. The only Book present on the shelves is the bible- everything else is assorted beautiful knickknacks.

Once in the room, you’re forcefully sat on the old couch, which is surprisingly comfortable. Wakatoshi takes the seat on your left, whilst Satori takes your right. There’s an awkward silence for a moment, before the red head starts to mess with your skort, “I ain’t ever seen a skirt like this,” You look up from the place on the floor you were previously staring at. His brought eyes are practically staring into your soul, as his scary smile is back on his face, “Ya look great, Dolly. Do ya have more of these?”

You did, in fact, have more skorts in your bag, but you won’t tell him that. Gulping in fear, you shake your head no. He narrows his eyes at that, suddenly bringing his face close to yours, “I ain’t believe that for a second! A pretty, feminine woman like you ain’t got more cute clothes? I ain’t know much, but I know y’all have doubles of your favourite clothes.”

His hand is clenching around your skirt, as you try to push his hands away, “Please stop, I don’t like you touching me there,” Your voice cracks when you say that, causing the demonic looking man to cackle.

Wakatoshi smacks the red head’s hand away from your skort, a dissatisfied grunt being heard throughout the room, “That ain’t no way to treat a lady.”

His deep voice is intimidating, but his hold on you is somewhat comforting. At least he’s standing up for you.

The Brothers glare at each other for a while, before they turn away from one another, and stare straight ahead. You’re practically stuck to the side of the large, green haired man, who holds your hand to his chest like one would a lover.

“So, uhm,” Both of their heads snap in your direction, making you jump, but you continue with what you were trying to say, “Did either of you happen to see my friends?

I haven’t seen them since we split up.”

Satori cracks a crooked grin, “Ain’t y’all know not to split up? That’s the first horror movie rule,” You give an awkward chuckle, a broken smile on your face.

“Yeah… uhm, I tried to tell them that, but they only became angry with me,” This definitely catches both of their attention, as Wakatoshi shifts beside you.

“Don’t keep us hangin’, what happened?” Satori once again invaded your space, as if he’s trying to absorb your thoughts.

You lean onto Wakatoshi to escape his brother’s close proximity, and the large man allows you without incident, “Well, I noticed your sign, so I tried to tell them that it wasn’t a good idea to bother you. The Boys in our group don’t like me, so when they got annoyed with me, they made me go off by myself to find you.”

Another unsatisfied grunt is heard from Wakatoshi, who shifts his body towards your leaning form. His right pec is now behind your head, making you flinch at the contact. He finally releases your hand, in favour of cradling your waist in a muscular arm, “That ain’t right.”

“Naw, that ain’t right at all! Ladies can’t go off by themselves,” Satori grumbles, as he stands to his feet, “Maybe I should go get ‘em and give ‘em a piece of my mind.”

You shake your head and hold your hands up in a surrendering motion, “No! No, it’s okay! It wasn’t right of them to do that, but it’s okay. I’m upset with them, sure, but I just want to get home in one piece.”

Both men eyed each other angrily, how dare those people leave you to die! But, before they could voice their disapproval, their mother called the three of you into the kitchen.

A mystery meat is present on your plate, along with rice and your favourite vegetable. You shift uncomfortably, unsure what you should do. When you’d asked about the meat, all the mother did was smile, and nod towards it, before ordering you to eat. No one moved, everyone staring at you as if you were a queen in her court.

You pick up your fork, scooping a bit of rice and vegetables into your mouth, which prompted the family to follow suit. There’s an empty seat beside you, a plate full of food in front of it, indicating a missing family member. The distant sound of a chainsaw can be heard, making you all the more uncomfortable.

Deciding against the meat, you eat everything but it. The vegetables and rice are delicious, but Wakatoshi and Satori’s eyes on you makes you uncomfortable.

“Ain’t ya gonna try Ma’s brisket? It’s her world famous recipe,” Satori exclaims. The Mom at the Head of the table says nothing, but she’s now watching you too.

“Don’t be rude, Satori, I’d she don’t want it, she don’t want it,” Their mother says.

“If ya don’t eat it, Ma’ll be real upset! She may not say it, but she’ll feel real bad!” Gulping at the idea of the angry woman in front of you, you bring a shot hand towards the meat piled on the left of your plate.

You stab a piece, moving it towards your mouth, only to be stopped by the slamming open of a door, and a familiar voice, “Don’t eat it! Don’t eat it! Run!” Startled, you drop the fork, jerking your head up to see a bloody, disfigured woman. Part of her upper thigh is missing, gushing blood onto the hardwood floor beneath her. She buckles to the floor, unable to hold herself up any longer, hitting the ground with a wet splat. It’s clear what the meat is.

Shoving yourself away from the table, you start walking backwards, as another large man stomps up the stairs, and starts to drag the unconscious body of the woman down the stairs. He looks over at your shocked form, and gives you a charming smile, “Who’s this? She’s cute.”

Without saying a word, you turn and run, ignoring the yells of your two new companions and the screeching of their own chairs. You fly out of the house at top speed, almost runni by straight into your friends. Hina let’s put a loud scream at your sudden arrival, prompting you to grab her by the hand and tug her along with you, “We need to run! Those people are crazy!” Your other three friends don’t move from their spots, and Hina’s boyfriend grabs her arm, effectively trying to tug-of-war her out of your hold.

“What the fuck, (Your Name)? What the hell is wrong with you? We need help, it doesn’t matter if they’re country bumpkins-“

“That’s not the issue! They literally had a woman chained in the basement and she was all bloody and missing part of her leg and-“

Riyuu cuts you off with a scoff, “Nice try in trying to scare us. It won’t work-“ The sound of a chainsaw starting grabs your group's attention. There, at the top of the steps, stands Wakatoshi and Satori. The Green haired man has a mask on, which looks just like a skinned human's face. In their hands Are two chainsaws, and both have a smock on, which is covered with blood.

You yank yourself out of Riyuu’s hold, and start to run, “Run away! We gotta go!” You hear no noise of complaint, as their footsteps start to echo after yours. Remembering which way the car was, you run in that direction. Sure, you’d have to run through the rice patty, but it’s better than being skewered.

Your group clears most of the grounds, as the echo of the chainsaws behind you seemingly grows louder and louder. Risking a glance back, you watch with horrified eyes as Kaneki shoves Mina backwards when the men start to gain on him, allowing them to cut her head clean off. You gag in disgust and fear, barely able to swing your head back around and continue to run. You hear Hina scream, most likely seeing the scene you just witnessed, and tears start to bead your lash line. Satori’s laugh can be heard from behind you, as he calls out to you in a mocking tone.

“Y’all can try to run, but we’ll catch up! We always do!” You don’t bother turning around anymore, knowing that that mistake would most likely end up being your downfall. At this point, Kaneki and Riyuu pass you, leaving Hina and you at the back. They knew that they wouldn’t stand a chance fighting the brothers behind you. Even if they were bulky, that bulk wouldn’t stop a chainsaw.

Your group finally makes it to the rice patty, the two males in front struggling to Wade through the water. Not bothering to remember your bloody legs or white shoes, you and Hina plunge into the cool water. It’s about knee high deep water, but it doesn’t slow the two of you at all. Taking light fast steps on the tips of your toes, you practically tiptoe around the struggling men. They snarl and curse at the sight of the two of you overtaking them, which draws your attention to the lack of noise around you. The Brothers turned off their chainsaws.

You don’t look back, continuing your quick pace until you reach the edge of the patty. With small resistance of the mud below you, you haul yourself out of the water, before helping Hina out as well. Once out, the two of you start running once more, not once checking to see if your male companions are following. Unbeknownst to the rest of the group, Mina had handed you the keys to the car way back at the beginning. She didn’t have any pockets, so when her boyfriend gave her the keys, she didn’t know where to keep them safe. The keys are currently tucked into your purse, which is firmly placed against your side.

The two of you run as fast as humanly possible, not once thinking about the girls’ boyfriends. It was clear that they didn’t care if you lived or died, and if push came to shove, they’d sacrifice you in w heartbeat.

Seeing the car in the distance, you practically drag Hina with you. She was growing tired, which was slowing her pace, but you wouldn’t allow her to fall behind. In no time, you got to the car, hand shoved into your purse, grasping the cool metal in the middle of the contents inside. Yanking it out into the open, you press the unlock button, and throw open the driver’s side door. You haul yourself inside, but before Hina can do the same, a figure tackles her to the ground.

Wakatoshi, after straddling her into submission, pulls out a knife, and stabs her in the chest. Hina screams, but is quickly silenced after another flurry of stabs. Your trembling fingers press the lock button on the car door, your hand holding the keys coming up to cover your gasping mouth. You’re slumped against the cloth interior, body twitching in adrenaline.

“Come out, (Your Name),” His gruff voice practically booms throughout the stale air of the car. Yet, you don’t move, too shell shocked to do anything but stare. A sudden knock on the window beside you has you practically jumping out of your skin. Your jump so violently that the car shakes, causing the knocker to snicker cruelly. Looking out the window, you see Satori holding a severed hand, its thumb containing a red ring, indicating that the hand belongs to Kaneki.

“Don’t be shy, we won’t hurt ya, darlin’,” The red head leans in close, smiling creepily at you, before kissing the glass in between you, “In fact, we’ll even patch up your pretty legs! We forgot to take care of ‘em earlier, and we don’t want your wounds to get infected, right?”

You start to openly sob, fat tears dripping down your pretty face, “Why? So you can eat them later?”

Without missing a beat, Satori responds, “Yes! The legs are quite yummy-”

“Shut up. You’re scaring her,” Wakatoshi doesn’t let him continue to tease you, his mask suddenly raised, as he stands at the other window, hands pressed against the glass, “Come out, or I’ll break the window.”

Satori scoffs behind you, “What, and you aren’t? Last time I checked, you’re the huge intimidating one! Hell, I’ve seen you skin a man alive so fast he-”

Your crying became louder, drowning out the red head entirely. Your mud caked legs are pulled up to your chest, ruining your pretty blouse, but you can’t bring yourself to care. All of your friends are dead, and these two men are going to not only eat them, but most likely eat you too.

While you’re distracted, Wakatoshi smashes the other window open with a rock, a thick hand reaching to try to grab you. You scream out in fear, pressing your back to the door beside you. His wide fingers grasp your shin, dragging you to the open window. His open hand presses the unlock button on the car door, allowing him to quickly open it, and drop you into the ground below. You fall out with a thump and a whimper, your skort flipping, allowing the men to see the short portion of your skirt.

“I’ll grab her bag, you take her home. Ma’ll be real pleased to have her back- she always said we deserved a pretty girl,” Satori says to the giant, as he stoops down and chucks you over his shoulder without so much as a grunt. You thrash and scream, trying to get out of his hold, but it’s no use. His arm traps your hips to him, not allowing you to move your pelvis.

“None of that,” The green haired man swats the back of your thigh, stilling your movements almost immediately, due to the pain. His large hand squeezes the spot he slapped, as if he was trying to comfort you.

“Don’t worry, Waka, we’ll train her into the perfect woman. She’s already feminine, all she needs now is a lil discipline,” The redhead opens the trunk of the car, pulling out your pink suitcase. His bloody hands dye the plastic of it a crimson red.

Only hell awaits you in that farmhouse, and there’s no one around to save you.

#yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu #yandere ushijima #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #yandere tendou #tendou satori #tendou x reader #yandere haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader

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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

Text

just friends

word count: 5,393

pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Fem!Reader

warnings: literally all fluff. maybe some swearing lol

a/n: this literally was supposed to be a short fluffy drabble and turned into a full on fic haha. I wrote a lot of this while I was half asleep so please excuse any spelling mistakes haha. I hope you guys like it! 💕 gif below isn’t mind, creds to the original creator!

haikyuu masterlist

Your window was only open slightly, meant for allowing the cool air to flow in, while also aiding for a certain somebody’s quick escape if it came down to that.

The Fukurōdani Academy Group Summer Camp started tomorrow. Well. Today, if you count the fact that it was already 2AM.

It had originally been 11PM. 3 hours ago, Akaashi Keiji had crawled up the side of your house and tapped his knuckles ever so softly on your window. It had freaked you out for a second until he texted you “Lemme in”, to which you then moved to the window to greet him with a confused look.

“Akaashi, if my parents hear you-” you started, glancing over your shoulder and hoping they hadn’t somehow managed to get to your bedroom door without you noticing.

“Then stay quiet and help me in,” he shrugged, slowly plopping into your room and smiling down at you. “How’s your evening?”

You just stared at him, “Akaashi, it’s late!” You hissed as he crawled into your bed and got comfortable like he was meant to be there. “What’re you doing awake anyways? Don’t you have to be up early for your training camp?”

Akaashi just gave a hum and a nod, patting the other side of the bed he wasn’t currently occupying and giving you a smile. You rolled your eyes and tucked yourself in next to him. It didn’t matter that the two of you were slightly squished, if anything your bed actually felt comfier this way.

Without any more questions, you and Akaashi laid there for hours, whispering as the time ticked by. Your legs slowly tangled together under the sheets and you fit in his side as if you were made to be there.

“What’re you thinking about?” Akaashi asked suddenly, his voice coated with fatigue, eyes lazily opening to look over at you and your pensive expression. It had been so long between topics, you had actually started to think he had fallen asleep.

“What do you mean?” You smiled back at him, your fingers still tracing along the lines on his palm like you had been for the past 10 minutes.

“You’re too quiet to be not thinking. And you’re obviously not sleeping. So what’re you thinking about?” Akaashi explained, interlacing your hands together for a moment. Just to see how they fit.

“Why did you come?” You questioned after a moment, turning to really look him in the eyes this time. Akaashi had such a soft demeanour about him tonight, a gentleness that you hardly ever saw when he and Bokuto were getting up to their usual mischief. But he was always kind and sweet to you, always took a moment of his day to tuck your hair behind your ear, or pluck a piece of fluff off your shoulder. Always put his plans on pause to ask you about your day, texted you about life and school and plans for the future.

His future included nationals. Playing in front of crowds and cameras, screaming fans and loud cheers. His future included volleyball. But you always wondered if there was room for you in that future too.

Akaashi paused, watching your eyes and for a moment, you could’ve sworn he had looked at your lips, a flicker of something different crossing his eyes. “I needed to see you.”

He said it so casually. As if this was normal. As if it was normal for a guy to crawl into a girl’s bedroom and lay in her bed like they were already married.

“I see you practically every day when we’re at school,” you pointed out, brushing a piece of hair from his eyes and trying to determine what he was really thinking because lord knows you could never tell.

Akaashi just stared some more at you, eyes slowly blinking from exhaustion. “I’ll be busy the next few weeks. With volleyball. And I know you’ve got plans for the summer too. I just... wanted to see you before I got all busy. I wanted to just be here with you and pretend like i could come back here.”

“You could,” you added quickly, maybe a bit too quickly, because then he looked at you with surprise. “I like it when you come by,” you admitted to him quietly, sitting up slightly in your bed. “I’m going to miss you while you’re all busy this summer.”

“I can make time,” Akaashi said hurriedly, his teeth tugging on his lips as he sat up with you. “For you. I can make time.”

You look at him with a smile, his thumb grazing over your hand again as he interlaced your fingers together once more. The two of you sat there, both wanting to ask the hovering question that sat buried in your throats.

What are we?

We’re friends, you’d always insist to your friends.

But friends don’t come crawling into your room at the middle of the night to hold you and hold your hand.

We’re just friends, Akaashi had told the team before with flushed cheeks.

But no friend of Akaashi’s had ever made him so nervous, Bokuto pointed out. And friends don’t stare at each other across the room the way you two do.

What are we?

“You should go,” you pointed out as you felt the tensions rising, glancing at the clock. It was almost 3:30AM now. Maybe it was sleep exhaustion or maybe you were just tired of never knowing what you were to Akaashi, but you knew if you didn’t get him out of your room now, you might end up spilling your guts to him.

Had she felt me try to get the courage to confess? Akaashi wondered as he gathered his things, moving to leave from the window again. But not before he wrapped you up into another hug, pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Do friends give forehead kisses?

“I’ll miss you,” he stated as he started to climb out the window.

“It’s not like you’re going across the world,” you teased with an awkward sort of laugh. “I’ll come see you guys maybe. When you’re not too busy.”

It could’ve been your imagination, but he seemed to lighten up at this idea. He nodded and pulled his backpack off for a moment to pull a hoodie from it. “To keep you warm when I’m not around,” he told you as he handed it to you. So casual. Like this was just something friends do.

“T-Thanks,” you tried to hide your smile, tried to hide the fact that you wanted to squeal out like a little girl. You held onto the hoodie as he gave you another little wave and crawled out of your house. You held it tighter as he landed on the ground, looking up at you and smiling at you like you were his romantic interest.

Do friends look at each other like that?

When he disappeared from view, you held the hoodie to your chest, smiling as you smelt his cologne or body wash or whatever the hell it was that made Akaashi smell like Akaashi. You crawled back into bed after closing your window tightly and turning off the lights, still gripping onto the hoodie he had left with you.

Do friends miss each other almost immediately after they’re gone? A few days later and there was Akaashi crawling through your window again. You heard the knock on the glass and found him with a tired smile on his face.

“Are you just going to keep visiting me in the middle of the night?” You asked with a giggle, watching him flop into your bed and open his arms asking you to join him.

“I have to look at sweaty annoying boys all day. What’s wrong with seeing a pretty girl every now and then?” He asked as you crawled in. Do friends say things like that to each other?

“Aw it can’t be all that bad,” you insisted, avoiding his eyes as you tried to wave off the compliment. “Bokuto is rather nice to look at.”

Akaashi huffed a bit, tickling your sides briefly until you reminded him in a harsh whisper that your parents were asleep. “Stop thinking about another boy while I’m here with you,” he stuck his tongue out at you playfully.

“Sorry I’ll stick to thinking about them when you’re not around,” you teased, making him poke at your side some more.

Did friends get jealous that easily?

“Why did you come?” You asked him after a while, tracing soft lines with your finger tips down his cheek and jawline, as if carefully measuring out a masterpiece because that’s exactly what he was. “Is the training camp really that bad?”

“Nah it’s alright. It’s fun getting to play with some new teams. Bokuto gets all excited about showing off his skills,” Akaashi responded softly, his eyes closing slowly as the two of you spoke.

“Aren’t you sore? From all your games?”

“Extremely. I’m not going to feel my legs tomorrow that’s for sure.”

“You shouldn’t have walked all this way then, idiot. You’re going to tire out your legs even more.”

“It’s worth it if I get to see you,” his voice was so quiet you weren’t even sure he actually said it. You looked up at him and found his eyes open again, watching you as if gauging your reaction.

Did friends make you feel like your heart would beat out of your chest? Do friends walk all the way to your house in the middle of the night after exercising all day?

What are we?

You wanted to ask, the words forming at your lips. The question was begging to be answered, pleading at your vocal cords to produce some sort of sound.

But what if you were reading into things?

What if friends really do all the things you wondered about? What if you weren’t exactly friends but weren’t anything more either? What if Akaashi saw you as a placeholder. A warm body to be everything a girlfriend could be until he found someone actually worthy.

What if you really were just friends?

Akaashi left a few moments later, groaning softly as he stretched and giving you another exhausted smile as he insisted he’d be back some other time. He traded sweaters with you, pulling out a brand new one for you from his bag and taking the one he had left earlier.

“I’m okay with this one Akaashi, why are you giving me another?” You asked confusedly.

He shrugged and you could’ve sworn there was a blush on his cheeks, “Just cause.”

He wrapped you up in a hug, pressed another kiss to your forehead and slipped out the window. Then spent the whole walk back shaking his head at himself for not saying what he wanted to say.

“Because I like how my clothes smell like you after you wear them,” he spoke aloud into the quiet night. “Because I wanted a part of me to always be with you. Because I don’t want you thinking about Bokuto, I want you thinking about me. Because I wanted to walk all this way to tell you how I felt and I chickened out again.”

The reasons piled into his head and he angrily kicked at some rocks as he walked. Why was it so much easier to think of why when he walked away?

“Because I want to know what we are,” he whispered to himself, stopping his footsteps and staring at the sky for a moment before walking further from you.

More days passed and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed when you didn’t hear from Akaashi as much. He was busy. You were busy. Everyone was busy, you told yourself. It’s not like he forgot about you. Or that he decided to ghost you.

It’s not like he found someone else. It was a volleyball training camp, who could he have found?

You wanted to tell yourself that there wasn’t anyone else and even if there was, it’s not like you had a claim to him anyway. You and Akaashi were just friends.

But you still waited for him every night, looking out the window in hopes he’d come.

Finally you heard a little tap at your window, and there was Akaashi with another tired grin. He seemed like he was glowing more than usual. He seemed bigger, more toned under his jacket.

“I missed you,” you told him shyly and the two of you curled back under the sheets together again.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, pressing his lips briefly against your forehead. “I got all caught up in training and even after the day is gone, everyone still wants to practice. Even that blond boy from Karasuno seems like he’s getting into it.”

You smiled and nodded, thinking about the few texts that Akaashi seemed to get out to you when he wasn’t so busy, “I’m sure everyone’s training hard for Nationals.”

Akaashi nodded and smiled, shifting so he was lying on his back and staring at your ceiling, “It’s getting really close. We got to be the best we can be.”

“You’re already really good. But I know you guys will win it all,” you beamed up at him excitedly. It was one of your favourite things, watching them play. And these National games always came with such excitement.

“Only if you’re there cheering us on,” Akaashi glanced at you, as if he had asked if you were coming and waiting for you to confirm.

“Of course,” you nodded up at him. “I wanna watch my boys beat everyone! Wipe the floor with them!”

Akaashi smirked and held onto you a little tighter, fingers dancing along your skin gently.

Did friends send tingles up your spine when they touched you? Because you hadn’t noticed it with anyone else but him.

“I can’t stay long tonight, love,” he whispered to you softly after an hour of whispered conversations passed. “I told Bokuto I’d wake up early with him and get some more practice.”

You nodded understandingly, though your heart felt a little as he started to move, “After your camp, maybe we can start doing all those summer things you wanted to do. When you’re not practicing of course.”

Akaashi chuckled and nodded, “Sure. Ice cream, find a beach, go swimming, whoop your ass in a water balloon fight,” he listed off.

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder back as you insisted that he was definitely going to lose a water balloon fight.

His hands grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into another hug. This time a bit tighter, like he was scared you were fading away, “I’m sorry I can’t stay,” he murmured to you, pulling away slightly to look down at you. “But I promise I’ll come see you soon.”

Why did everything he say always seemed like something a boyfriend would say? Do friends say things like that?

“I know you’re busy, Akaashi, don’t worry,” you told him with a small shrug, staring at your hands nervously.

“Y/N...”

There was something in his tone... something so foreign. You looked up at him and saw nervousness in his eyes, his hands sliding down your arms to hold your hands.

“Yea?”

Akaashi cleared his throat awkwardly, his eyes glancing between yours and your hands.

“I- We...” he started.

What are we?

Three words.

Or maybe he should ask what you wanted you two to be?

Is that too much? Is that too pushy?

What if you didn’t think there needed to be anything more to this relationship? What if he was overthinking it? What if this was just for fun and you really were into Bokuto?

“Are you okay, Akaashi?” You asked after a moment of him stuttering.

“Yeah... we’ll do all those things and more,” he finally managed out, his eyes avoiding yours more now. “Promise.”

You nodded slowly, wishing he would keep holding your hand as you two moved away from each other. He traded sweaters with you again, pressed another kiss to your forehead, and disappeared into the night.

You spent the night wondering what he had started saying. Why was he so nervous tonight? What was it about tonight that made him so awkward? You hadn’t seen Akaashi nervous in a lot of situations. He was always so calm, but not tonight for some reason. Could it be that he was nervous… just like you were? Could it actually be that you two were something other than just friends?

It was the last day of the summer training camp and the smell of cooking meat made Akaashi’s mouth water. He looked around him, carefully calculating exactly what kind of meats he wanted to grab off of the barbecues. He and Komi chatted with Tsukishima briefly about their baby Ace’s tantrums, Akaashi smirking to himself as he watched his idiotic best friend going around with Hinata, drooling over the lunch.

“When Bokuto told me to swing by for lunch, this isn’t quite what I expected.”

There was a little lurch in Akaashi’s chest, hearing that voice. He swung around to see you standing there, Suzumeda giving you a little wave after she had shown you to where the team was. “Glad you could swing by! It’s not every day we get to hang out with Akaashi’s friend,” she snickered, a teasing tone in the way she said friend.

You and Akaashi both just looked at her funny before turning back to each other, a smile on your face, “Did you miss me?”

Akaashi just gave you a little smirk, grabbing you by your wrist and pulling you into a hug, “Obviously.” He smiled down at you. “Sorry, did you say Bokuto told you to come?” He asked suddenly, looking around to find a wide smiled owl looking Bokuto behind him.

“I just thought that you’d actually smile a bit if she came by!” Bokuto insisted with a laugh, hands on his hips all proud-like. “Good to see you, Y/N! Must be nice to come by and hang out with Akaashi huh?”

You smiled up at him and moved to pat his head affectionately, “Of course! But I like coming to see you too, Bokuto,” you teased.

Bokuto’s smirk seemed different this time as he gave Akaashi a wink, “Sure but there’s nothing wrong with being here solely for Akaashi so you two have some time together,” he grinn, poking your nose playfully.

Before you could ask him what he meant, questioning his word choices and teasing sort of tone, Bokuto got called across the field, eagerly grabbing a plate with the food.

“Are you hungry?” Akaashi asked, nodding towards the gloriously smelling food. You nodded but stayed at his side, finding the massive groups of boys a little daunting. “I’ll get you something then, you can stay around here.”

“Thank you,” you squeezed his arm gently and he just gave you one of those kind soft smiles before disappearing into the crowd.

“Come on! She’s super sweet, you’ll love her!” Suzumeda was saying, dragging a bunch of girls in your direction. You blinked in surprise, Shirofuku giving you a wave as she also made her way over.

“How you doing, Y/N?” Shirofuku wrapped her arms around you excitedly, squeezing you into a hug. “You should’ve come with us! You could’ve been a big help keeping these boys in line.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I’m not quite sure I could do what you guys do,” you insisted shyly, smiling at the other girls who were smiling at you. “Hiya! I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you offered to the new faces.

Soon, you met all the managers from the other schools and it didn’t take long for you all to be laughing and joking about the various attitudes and characters your teams all had.

“Aren’t you hungry, Y/N?” Kiyoko asked suddenly, noting the lack of food in your hand. “We have lots, and I’m sure some of these boys don’t need to have 7 helpings!”

You nodded and glanced behind your shoulder, finding Akaashi yelling at Bokuto for trying to steal all the meat. “Akaashi already said he’d grab me a plate. Figure it’s better than me getting lost in that group,” you pointed out and turned your eyes back to the girls.

They were all sharing grins with each other, Suzumeda giggling, “Aren’t they adorable?”

You blinked in surprise as they laughed some more, tilting your head, “Who?”

“You!” Ōtaki laughed. “I don’t know Akaashi much but Shirofuku and Suzumeda told me you two really bring the best out of each other.”

You paused a bit more and the Fukurodani girls noted your hesitation, “Sorry, was it supposed to be a secret?” Shirofuku asked with wide eyes. “Leave it to Bokuto to go spilling everyone’s secrets!”

Your eyebrows furrowed more as you glanced between the girls, “I’m so confused. What secret?”

“That you and Akaashi were dating! We heard he snuck away between days here at the summer camp to go see you and that he finally confessed!” Suzumeda explained, her smile getting more and more stiff as you seemed more and more confused.

“Akaashi and I are just friends,” you insisted nervously, heart pounding against your chest. “W-Why would Bokuto tell people that?”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, we didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that! I thought it was pretty obvious you two liked each other,” Kiyoko admitted, the rest of the girls apologizing profusely. You shook your hands in front of each other, insisting that it wasn’t their fault that Bokuto was being dumb again, your face heating up from embarrassment.

You wondered just how many other people Bokuto had been whispering this news to, but it didn’t take long for you to find out. You excused yourself from the girls, saying you were going to find Akaashi and your food, but really just feeling way too embarrassed to look them in the eye.

You met with a few Karasuno third years, Daichi grinning as he told you that Akaashi had mentioned you before and said nothing but good things.

“It’s really great to finally meet you!” Sugawara had chimed in. “Bokuto told us about your new relationship so congratulations! I have to say, Akaashi seems like he’s smiling more that you’re around.”

You quickly insisted to them as well that you and Akaashi were in fact not dating and that you weren’t quite sure why Bokuto had gone round telling otherwise. The third years apologized on their behalf, sheepishly walking back to their team as you excused yourself yet again.

Even some of the Furkurodani boys grinned at you and gave you a thumbs up, thanking you for making Akaashi smile every now and then. As much as you wanted to take credit for those smiles, you weren’t quite sure how to awkwardly tell them that you and their setter were just. friends.

Did Bokuto not realize that you and Akaashi were just friends? Why was he torturing you like this? It’s not like he didn’t know you were constantly staring at his best friend. You wanted to slip away, hide in a corner, because now it felt like everyone was looking at you differently. You were no longer just a friend of the Fukurodani boys, now you were Akaashi’s girlfriend. You wanted that title more than anything, but not like this. And what would he say when he found out? He’d probably kill Bokuto for insinuating that the two of you were dating because you two were just friends. Just. Friends. And nothing more.

You finally managed to find Akaashi, who was giving a weird look to some of the Karasuno boys, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “-who told you that?” He asked, a slight hint of surprise in his voice.

“Bokuto!” A small redhead grinned widely, catching your eye and his eyes widening, “Your boyfriend is so cool!” He yelled at you before stuffing his face with more food.

Akaashi whirled around to see you, both of you sharing a look of what the hell is going on? “I’m going to kill him,” he huffed as he walked over to you, handing you a plate of food. “I’m sorry I took so long but I piled enough on there for the two of us. But… everyone keeps asking me… questions.”

“About… us?” You asked slowly and he just shifted in his stance, nodding slowly. “Me too. Bokuto seems to have a big mouth for things that don’t exist.”

Don’t exist, the words rang in Akaashi’s head as he tried to remind himself that as much as he wanted, you two weren’t dating. He wasn’t sure why Bokuto had it in his mind that you were, or that he could go telling literally everyone around, but he would kill him first and ask questions later.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto yelled, as if he felt you two thinking about him and magically appeared behind you two. “How’s the happy couple!?”

“Bokuto, what did you do?” You groaned, not at all hungry anymore even though the food on the plate still smelled incredible.

“Do?” He asked, tilting his head as Akaashi groaned. “Why do you two look so stressed? It’s a BBQ!”

“Bokuto, you idiot. Why does everyone think we’re dating?” Akaashi asked him, flicking his upperclassman in the head. “What did you do?”

“Aren’t you?” Bokuto asked with a furrowed brow, looking between you two. “I thought all those nights Akaashi snuck away, I thought he finally got up the courage to tell you how he feels,” he told you, an oblivious and concerned look in his eyes. “Did he not tell you?”

“N-No,” you managed to get out, your face feeling hot again. What would it take to just forget all of this happened? To forget that Bokuto just insinuated that Akaashi has feelings for you? It had to be a lie right? Akaashi was going to insist that he didn’t have feelings for you and that you two were just friends. You didn’t want to hear it - you’d give anything to just slip away and forget this whole day ever happened.

“Bokuto, I hadn’t told her yet,” Akaashi sighed instead, shaking his head.

“You chickened out again?” Bokuto gaped, patting his friend’s shoulder in comfort. “It’s okay, I’m sure it’ll go great when you finally tell her!” He insisted, as if you weren’t standing right there.

“Tell me what?” You asked quietly, watching Akaashi’s somewhat strained expression. Why did he seem so nervous? What did Bokuto mean when he said Akaashi chickened out again? You didn’t want to believe that all of this meant what you thought it meant because getting your hopes up was terrifying. But you stared at him anyways, waiting for someone to explain to you like you were a child.

Bokuto just grinned, looking between you two as if watching a film and waiting for the ending. “Go on, tell her!” Bokuto insisted to his friend, nudging him towards you.

Akaashi had a flush on his cheeks and he was starting to avoid your eyes. His weight shifted back and forth on his feet as he played with his fingers, sighing quietly, “I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone, Y/N,” he admitted softly.

Your heart was pounding in your ears. This couldn’t be happening now, could it? You were just friends, you were just friends, you were just friends. The words had been repeating in your head ever since Akaashi had first snuck into your room. You two were only friends - there was nothing more. You had to believe that. Because if there was something more, it meant leaving your heart open to be broken. What if he only liked you because you were available? What if he didn’t really see anything in you? What if he moved away after high school and the two of you drifted apart? Losing a friend hurts, but if you two took the next step and then you lost your friend and a lover? It would be devastating.

“Stop overthinking,” Akaashi stated after a moment, his eyes finally catching yours and seeing that telltale sign that you were spiraling mentally. He took the plate from your hands, setting it on a nearby table so you weren’t holding it for forever. “I like you. I’ve always liked you. I wanted to tell you that night before the summer camp. And every other time that I came to see you. I’ve been wanting to tell you since that day we spent at the park and you kept picking flowers for me. You don’t make me feel like I need to be anything more than me.” Akaashi swallowed hard as he watched your eyes, feeling a little light headed as the words spilled from his lips. “I know we’re friends. But I don’t want to be just friends anymore, Y/N…”

“You don’t?” You asked softly, biting down on your inner cheek nervously. Was this really happening? Your hands were trembling at your sides, looking up at Akaashi like everyone else had disappeared (though you could still feel Bokuto squirming and squealing beside you, watching the interaction).

Akaashi just gave you that same smile he always did, taking one of your hands and giving it a squeeze, “I’m tired of always telling people that we’re just friends. I don’t want just any friend in my sweaters and I don’t go climbing into people’s rooms in the middle of the night just because they’re a friend.”

“You did what?” Bokuto gasped, eyes widening but immediately shushing when Akaashi sent him a little glare for interrupting.

Akaashi took another breath and just shook his head slightly, “I want us to be more than friends, Y/N. So maybe if you’re okay with it, we can start telling people that Bokuto isn’t a liar and that… you are my girlfriend?”

You looked around the space, expecting the sky to be falling or some imaginary creature to randomly show up. Because this had to be a dream right?

“You’re not dreaming, dummy,” Akaashi laughed, seeing the panic in your eyes. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. But I needed this off my chest,” he explained, starting to let go of your hand. You watched as a flash of disappointment crossed his eyes before you grabbed his hand again, squeezing.

“Of course I want to,” you breathed out shakily. “I just… always thought you wanted to be just friends. But I’ve always wanted something more with you.”

Akaashi’s face broke out into the biggest grin you’d ever seen before, pulling you into a tighter hug than he’s ever given you before, actually forcing a breath from your lungs.

“Don’t kill her before your first date!” Bokuto screeched, trying to pry Akaashi’s arms from around you. “God, that took you guys forever! I gotta go tell everyone that I’m not a liar now!” Bokuto beamed, rushing away from the new couple to shout it from the top of his lungs that his best friend finally had a girlfriend.

Akaashi laughed a bit and shook his head, watching his idiotic friend bounce around. “You should eat,” he pointed out after your hug was interrupted by the sound of your stomach growling.

You nodded and smiled up at him, “Only if you eat with me.”

“Of course. Can’t leave my girlfriend to eat on her own now, can I?” He teased, a smile on his face as he realized how easy and natural it seemed to call you that. The two of you walked around before finding a spot to eat, mingling with those around you.

You watched as Akaashi talked to people, so calm and almost unaffected by everything that just happened. But then he’d look at you with a smile, open his mouth for you to feed him and take your hand in his, and you felt like you were falling for him all over again. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself later thinking about how many people you were going to have to hear “I KNEW IT” from. Because maybe you and Akaashi were just a little bit more than friends.

Okay fine, a lot more.

haikyuu taglist:

@al0ehas @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi keji x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!

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kpopfanfictrash · 3 years

Text

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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arvandus · 3 years

Text

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY! 1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it. Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught. Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

All of the above?

All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire. Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name. The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

Like his hands. You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight. They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand. They were a thing to be feared and avoided. But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like? You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

Or his lips. They were always covered by his mask. You never, ever saw him without it. You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin. Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive. Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

You bet that part of him was soft too.

The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes. They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes. But they lacked the warmth of Heaven. Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore. Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.

He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own. That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing. Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization. You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates. No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

First impressions were everything to Kai. Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion. As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again. You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips. After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster. And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

The message he sent was clear: adapt or die. When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

So, you adapted. As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path. The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad. Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him. But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either. Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often. But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it. And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth. But it was just a job, right? You didn’t need warmth.

So why did you feel so dissatisfied? Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

You craved his attention. It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care. To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction. The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust. They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were. It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.” You wanted him. At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse. After all, this was Overhaul. Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain. It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.

You began to act different in front of him. Nothing too obvious, of course. After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all. All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance. You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes. Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings. In the end though, it made no difference. There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside. It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening. Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone. No papers remained on his desk. His gloves and plague mask were gone. With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood. It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints. You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution. No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

You should have just left it at that. But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

That should have been your first clue.

But your mental alarms never sounded. Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right? Left for the evening. What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit? With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

That should have been your second clue.

But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment. You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes. It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot. Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded. What if those were his fingers? The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more. You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it. Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Not here of all places. But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations. After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it. And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him. Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

And dear God, did you need it. You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties. Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He was gone, right? And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left. He’d be none the wiser.

Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get. You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in. A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart. In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill. It felt so fucking good. The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat. You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

“Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic. You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

FUCK. Of course. You forgot to check outside. He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You hadn’t heard him enter. How long had he been standing there??

“I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask. His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

“Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

“I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing. His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

“Look at you...” he grumbled. “Disgusting.”

His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression. His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

He was going to kill you. You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less. But you weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to die.

You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare. “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

“Overhaul.”

“Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”

“No disrespect?” he sneered. “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him. You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence. He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.

“Clean it up.”

With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.

You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather. Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame. His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you. It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge. He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

Not that you’d try to. You knew better.

When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.

It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life. But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I was just...” you stammered.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

You swallowed and set down the trashcan. He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you. Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head. You stopped breathing.

There was something... electric in the air. You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps. His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face. Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely. Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released. After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes. The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra. Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier. You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

Hope.

Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in. “Follow me.”

Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair. Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

“Sit.”

Confusion.

“W-What??” you stuttered.

“I said sit.” He replied.

You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt. You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you. His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

“Continue.” He stated.

“What? What do you mean?” you asked.

His eyes stared at you knowingly. “You didn’t get to cum, did you?” You shook your head, stunned at his words. “Continue.” He repeated.

“Right here?”

“Where else? It was good enough for you earlier.” His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed. “Continue.”

Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction. So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access. Chisaki didn’t look down. Not right away, at least. Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent. With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you. It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening. You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.

Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to. You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers. It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened. Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat. Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him. You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel. You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him. Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build. It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat. But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least. You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal. Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge. You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat. Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths. Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum. You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit. The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure. Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants. Was he trying to hide it? Because he was failing. Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

“Again.” He ordered.

Your eyes bulged. “Again?”

He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently. You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight. He wanted you to do it again?

At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired. But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you. No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing. It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare. Do it again and see what happens.

Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb. Except for your clit. That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core. With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips. It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it. Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki. Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length. You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly. It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.

You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you. With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith. You wanted it. You wanted to cum so badly. But you wanted to see him even more. So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts. You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered. With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips. The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down. You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum. Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.

He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

“Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes. Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter. He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand. Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him. You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask. Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you. It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

It was the push your sensitive body needed. You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first. Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure. With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

You were given no respite. As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

“Again.”

Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity. You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation. It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out. “B-But... I can’t....”

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly. He was smirking at you. Cruelly.

“You can, and you will.” He said. A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings. “Again.” He repeated.

Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes. You stared at the exposed skin in awe. It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed. Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine. Maybe… maybe if you were good…

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit. Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily. Watching him masturbate to you was delicious. He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light. You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger? Maybe both?

You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand. The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to. It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

He continued his strokes, slow and easy. Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him. His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need. It was happening... he was going to cum...

But he never did. Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Or maybe he had his own agenda. But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

The hypocrite.

Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.

It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation. The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him. You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

“Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged. Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours. Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

Chisaki froze mid-stroke. “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

“Please,” You begged. “Don’t you want to?”

His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before. After all, what you were asking was no small order. You knew how he felt about touch. No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

But that was why you begged. And pleaded. And groveled. Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

“Please...” you whined one last time. “I’ll do anything. I need you, Kai...”

Something about you using his given name did something. His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck. Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat. You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie. He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable. He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence. Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

You waited.

“Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you. Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

“So fucking filthy.” He breathed. The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

“...And needy.” He added.

From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch. But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about. Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

“I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself. His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

You were pathetic. But you didn’t care. You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you. And if he wanted you to beg? To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock? You’d do that too.

His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning. A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first. So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.” He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous. It made you want to cry. You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

But it never came. And his hand never ventured further. Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak. Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words. “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

Chisaki tsked. “You’re afraid. Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk. The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

“Kai!” you protested.

He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered. “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before. Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there. But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade. Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand. His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow. Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between. And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast. His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return. You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft. The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

The temptation was too much. He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust. Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles. With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting. You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore. You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls. His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face. It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic. Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore. But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth. Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

“Shut up.” He growled.

You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him. And it didn’t matter to you either. You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast. All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint. That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

“This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

“So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.” His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted. It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock. Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls. It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep. But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling. Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up. Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

But he never did. Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock. You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state. A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

But he never did that either. Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance. Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes... His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth. It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected. The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

Whatever it was, it was short-lived. He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips. And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow. No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his. But you were quickly learning you couldn’t. His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left. And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?

The sun could never be controlled.

And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“Again.”

#overhaul x reader #Kai Chisaki x reader #overhaul smut #mha smut #bnha smut #tw:bondage #tw:masturbation #tw:degradation #tw:overstimulation #tw:aggression #bnharem collab

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ellewords · 3 years

Text

coffee conversations

summary : your roommate has a habit of coming home late from work. you have a habit of staying up late to finish yours.

word count : ~1.6k

fic notes : kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader, fluff, roommates au, lowercase intended

from elle ! this ended up being longer than i originally planned. it was supposed to be just a drabble then it ended up spiralling into whatever this is ;-; regardless, i had a lot of fun writing it bec my kuroo brainrot is pretty strong now sigh anyways, thank you for reading and i hope you have a lovely day ! <3

midnight.

it’s when the darkness finally settles in, but the city’s just bound to come alive; especially on a friday night, or was it saturday morning? but did that really matter? kuroo leans his head on the window, the cab ride home has always been a scenic root. multicolored lights from the buildings and billboards reflecting on his skin, the several bodies that crowded the sidewalks as they trudged their way to the nearest bar. if he asked the driver to turn down the radio, if he listened hard enough, he could hear the dull thumping of bass from each flashy establishment they passed. and he supposes he could be one of those people, an arm lazily slung around a stranger, ordering them their next drink, dancing with them until sweat covered every inch of their bare skin. he could be, and it wasn’t too long ago that he was. but recently, he’s found a reason to head straight home.

kuroo knows exactly what he’s about to come home to, maybe that’s what excited him so much. why he nervously taps his foot on the tiled floors of the reception area, wondering if the elevator doors could open any quicker. why he speed walks his way along the carpeted hallways, the soles of his shoes barely making a sound as he made sure to keep his steps as light as possible. why his hands shake as he turns the key, opening the front door as quickly as his heart beats. all of that because he knows it’s you waiting for him.

you’re seated upright along the length of the sofa, typing away at your laptop. face illuminated by the screen’s glare, and he lets out a quiet tsk; he’s reminded you more times than he can count to turn down the brightness, you nod but never listen. your brows are furrowed and there’s a tiny crinkle in the space between them, kuroo wonders what it would be like to press a kiss right there. he shakes the thought away immediately, knowing that it would only do more harm than good to let his mind wander away like that. he watches the way your fingers move from one key to another, fast and precise, not leaving any room to breathe. you never notice when he comes home, gaze travelling from one end of the word document to the other, making sure each word is in its rightful place. kuroo knows you don’t really wait up for him, you’re just trying your best to finish the mountain of paperwork your boss had so graciously left you to do over the weekend. but for a brief moment, he lets his heart believe that you do. only for a little bit, never too long.

he has to cough to get your attention. it doesn’t get your attention the first time, having to cough maybe thrice before you remove the earphones that blasted at full volume.

“i see you’re home from work.” you comment, already making a move to stand from the couch. but not before stretching your arms upwards; you had been sitting there typing for way too long.

kuroo smirks, stepping aside as you stood and made your way over to the kitchen. eyes glancing at the stack of paperwork you left on the coffee table, “and i see that you still haven’t escaped yours.”

“i know. how unfortunate. the usual?” you frown, placing your laptop on the kitchen counter.

he places his work bag on the couch, taking off his coat and loosening his tie, “do you even have to ask?”

it’s like clockwork at this point. he sits on one of stools by the counter, elbows on the countertop and hands on his chin, watching you work. his eyes follow you around, mesmerized even by the simplest things: from the way you measured the coffee grounds to simply putting the coffee pot on the stove to brew.

“why can’t we be normal and just have breakfast together or something?” you sigh, crossing your arms and leaning your body against the wall, finally making eye contact with kuroo — unaware of the fact that he had been watching you the entire time.

he chuckles, there’s a light amusement that flashes across his features, “because i’m still asleep by the time you need to leave for work.”

“fair point,” you nod, closing your eyes in slight frustration as you’re reminded of all the things that you needed to accomplish by the time the sun rises. you have reports to write, presentations to prepare; wondering if any of this was even worth it. “why do i even need to work? is it not enough to lounge around the apartment all day watching tv?”

“you need to pay your half of the rent.” kuroo jokes, shaking his head. he waits for you to laugh, or at least come up with some clever retort. but you stay silent, finally opening your eyes to look at him, and he sees it. there’s tiredness, there’s stress — emotions he’s sure is evident in his own. “you alright?”

you shrug your shoulders before they return to their slumped position, gaze briefly flickering towards the coffee pot before placing them back on kuroo, “there’s nothing i can do.”

“you know you can quit, right, yn?” kuroo speaks before he thinks, eyes widening at his own question, “i don’t mind shouldering the rent for a little bit until you find something less exhausting.”

it’s your turn to laugh this time, “and have you working overtime even more? no thanks. you’re sweet though.”

sweet. kuroo notes, you think he’s sweet? heat rises to his cheeks, a faint flush coloring them in the process. never had he been more grateful for the dimness of the lights, the room just dark enough to not make it noticeable. “for your information, i work overtime because i actually like my job. and how else am i going to have these conversations with you?”

you raise a brow, he had a point there. despite sharing the same space, you and kuroo had a habit of missing each other for most of the day. you leave early in the mornings and he still hasn’t arrived by the time you get back in the afternoon.

“didn’t expect that you look forward to these.” you smile, turning off the stove once you notice the dark liquid boiling, signalling that it was ready. the scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as you grab a couple of mugs from the cupboard. “which one do you want?”

you hold two different mugs towards him. one you had gotten him as a souvenir from a business trip to kyoto, the other he had gotten you while on vacation in osaka. kuroo points to the one that you had gotten him, “of course, i look forward to these. it’s the highlight of my day.”

“your days must be terribly boring then.” you comment, placing the mugs on the counter and taking a seat on the stool beside his.

“no,” he protests almost immediately, a little too sudden actually. kuroo blinks back once he’s realized that he’s startled you, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment, “i just like spending time with you.”

a sigh leaves both of your lips at the first sip of coffee, the warmth spreading across the entirety of your bodies. it’s quiet for these few moments, where you and kuroo just sit back and take everything in. the chill in your apartment, the heat from the mugs, the distant sounds of city nightlife, the almost yellow glow of the light fixture that hung above you, the way your elbows accidentally brushed the other’s. there’s silence, but there’s a ringing in your ears that neither of you could avoid. your hearts beat uncontrollably fast. but that must be the caffeine. at least that’s what you try to convince yourself.

but kuroo liked to think that he knew himself better, that he was actually honest with himself. it isn’t the caffeine that made his heart race past midnight, when all you had to do was look at him in the way you usually do. head tilted to the side, hanging on to every word that left his lips, nodding along to whatever he ranted about, eyes travelling over his face like you were memorizing each and every feature, the corner of you lips flicked upward. it’s like looking in a mirror, he knows he looked at you like that too. and maybe, just maybe, he allows himself once more to believe that you could possibly like him back.

“if it means anything,” you speak, cutting through the silence as you recalled the last thing he said before you took your first sips, “i like spending time with you too.”

and it does mean something to him. to kuroo, it meant the world. he’s aware that there are other ways he could be spending his time. he could be dancing it up in a club, on his seventh shot of whatever the bartender decides to hand him, arms around some stranger whose name he was going to forget when the day breaks. he could be in bed, asleep, finally letting exhaustion catch up to him as he crashed face first into the soft pillows. but no, he’s here with you. your arm accidentally grazing his every now and then, resting your head on his shoulder as you rant about the day you’ve had, or placing a hand there to steady yourself when you laugh just a little too hard at his jokes and stories, knowing that his attempts of making you feel better are slowly beginning to work.

there’s nowhere else he’d rather be past midnight than in the kitchen of your shared apartment, complimenting you on making the best cup of coffee he’s ever had.

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot @aoirohi

join my hq taglist here. <3

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miekasa · 3 years

Note

hey do you have a layout of the apartment that eren and reader share in "nice"? or maybe just random pictures that remind you of it? i really wanna see if i've been imagining it right

Here is my attempt at making a floorplan for their apartment and it was harder than I thought 😭😭 don’t ask me about dimensions or scale bc <2 just know that... it’s unreasonably big and the total cost of the whole thing is like $65 million which doesn’t even include the furniture or art they’ve put in since living there. Anyway, this is the general layout of the first floor, intended to look something like the Van der Woodsen’s apartment in Gossip Girl so you can also look at that! Might do the second floor later, but all that’s really up there is Eren and OC’s bedrooms (they’ll probably renovate Eren’s sooner or later) and ensuite, another balcony, and a smaller office.

Basically, it’s very kinda open concept space design whatever you call it. Anyway, here are some fun facts about their apartment/living arrangement!

Eren designed the majority of the apartment. It came with a lot of furniture, but he switched them out and played a big part in the renovation.

Remember, the original plan was for Eren to live in his childhood apartment (now Carla’s apartment) when Carla moved to Paris full-time; he bought this one for the two of you to live in, and it was a surprise present. He doesn’t have the knack for making clothes like his mom, but he does have a knack for designing, and he’s pretty good at interior design.

It’s mentioned in the fic, but the elevator opens up into their apartment because it’s the penthouse. No, not just anybody can come up, you have to scan a card or be on their list to get let up by the doorman.

There is nothing in that storage closet but packages that they keep forgetting to open lmfaooo. Maybe a few extra winter coats and random shit.

Those statues are actually relatively new. They were a gift from Mitchell (Carla’s husband) for their wedding; he had them commissioned from an artist friend he knew in Paris. They aren’t of you and Eren (that would be a little creepy), but they represent each other.

Eren keeps buying art just because it matches the decor and he knows that art is like a status symbol or whatever. He doesn’t know what it means, but if he likes it (or if you mention you likes it), he buys it.

That kitchen is a dream which is funny because Eren can barely cook. Mikasa can tho, so thank fuck for her. Eren can and has fit into that pantry.

All the plants are fake because Eren has allergies. Also because he does not have a green thumb. You guys periodically change them out for the season, and the only time a real plant is in the apartment is during Christmas.

Armin burned himself trying to use the fireplace once and hasn’t even stepped foot near it since; he doesn’t even sit on the twin chairs near it, only the sectional because he’s a big baby.

Coffee table #1 is the more functional one; it’s where they sit and eat, lounge, drink wine, use their laptops, so there’s usually a bunch of stuff on it. Coffee table #2 is more for show; it’s made of glass has books on it, and a candle, too.

Whenever you fall asleep on the daybed, Eren always carries you upstairs. Similarly, he knows you’re prone to napping on the daybed, so (before getting married), whenever he felt that you were working too hard/too long on schoolwork, he would tell you work there, just bc he knew you would fall asleep.

There isn’t a symbol for it, but there is a big set of sliding doors that can close the dining room, but it’s always open (they usually eat at the bar anyway). They always host Thanksgiving dinner at their house, but they don’t throw a lot of formal parties otherwise. They do have their friends over a bit, and they randomly show up sometimes, so they keep the extra seating around.

Eren loves the pool, and he loves dragging you into it. The outdoor grill legitimately only gets used by Connie whenever he has a grilling kick in the middle of the summer, what the fuck does Eren know about grilling other than it seems sick to have one.

The outdoor “bar” doesn’t actually have alcohol stocked in it. The terrace is pretty secure, no drunk person could accidentally just fall off of it, but you still don’t like the idea of having drinks accessible out there. It’s mostly sodas and fruit juices. Occasionally you and Eren sit outside with a glass of champagne or two, but nothing more than that.

The guest bedroom hardly gets used because your guests are obsessed with the sectional, so they usually fall asleep there. The only people who like the bed are Mikasa, Reiner, and Sasha.

The atelier was, obviously, designed with Carla in mind. She does have her own apartment in the city, but Eren put this one in for her anyway (way before the events of NICE happened; which only goes to show that even though Eren is mad at his mom for her marriages, he never hated her and always sought to take care of her). It doubles as a fitting room and powder room of sorts.

Eren has never used the first floor bathroom.

The art at the end of the hallway was done by Jean, and was originally a gift for your birthday, but offered to pay him and value you it like real, expensive art. Eren claims that was a waste of money. You just have to point to any random object in the house to humble him about “wasting money.”

#anonymous #fic.ask #this was very fun but also very difficult bc it looks a Specific Way in my head #their apartment is fucking huge #its kind of a mix of serenas first floor and blairs top floor ?#and when will i have another eren x reader fic idea lmfao #i have some but they’re not… exclusively x reader hehe

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es-kay-zee · 3 years

Text

Lust | Lee Know x Reader

I had plans to make this kinky as all hell, but I somehow ended up going the opposite direction with this. oh well, it was still pretty fun to write. I’m also sorry if there’s parts of it (or all of it?) that don’t make any sense. I didn’t proofread it at all and my head was just empty while writing it.

I was kinda liking it at one point, then I overthought about it and now I think I hate it but I put in all this time so it’s getting posted. I just feel like it kinda went all over the place

Warnings: officemate! au, sexual tension (maybe? Idk, i tried), fem! reader, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), protected sex (yay!) there’s like a split second of softdom! Minho, but other than that moment there’s not really any dynamics.

Requested: Yip

Word count: 4.6k

_______________________

It didn’t take a genius amongst your co-workers to be able to tell what was going on between you and Minho. Everyone could see the way you looked at each other. They could see the way you took extra time at the printer, considering it was right next to his desk. You would stand there for longer than necessary, just watching him work. How his fingers would type away on his keyboard, the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. God, what you would do to have his fingers inside you.

No, you can’t think like that. He’s just your co-worker. He may be hot as all hell, but this is a professional environment, right?

It was also painfully obvious to everyone how Minho looked at you the same way. Just as you would spend extra time at the printer, he would spend extra time at your desk whenever he had to hand you some files. He would try to make some idle chit-chat with you, but really, he was just staring at your lips the whole time. While you would admire his hands and arms, he would admire your lips. He often found himself wondering just what your mouth was capable of.

Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t only see you as some pretty thing around the office. He also admired your dedication and work ethic. He loved how much effort you put into your job to ensure you produce the pest quality of work. But he wasn’t stupid, he could see just how hot you are.

But he’s not allowed to think of you in that way. He’s not allowed to spend many a night imagining your hand, your mouth wrapped around his cock instead of his hand. After all, you’re just co-workers. And it’s all professional, right?

That’s what you both keep telling yourselves.

It’s a normal Friday, not long before midday, and you’re zoning out at your desk, trying to figure out what the hell you were going to do over the weekend. You’d originally had plans to meet up with a few friends, but they all cancelled on you, leaving you with nothing to do on the approaching Saturday and Sunday.

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by someone waving a small folder in front of your face.

“Hey, earth to y/n?” You snap your attention onto the figure in front of you, quickly realising that it is, in fact, Lee Minho who’s standing at your desk. You hurriedly fix your posture, sitting up straighter and clearing you throat quietly before responding.

“A-are those some more files that need doing?” The way you stutter over your words has you internally cringing, hoping he can’t tell the effect he has over your body.

“Yeah, they’re the latest invoices that have come in. These ones need to be paid by Tuesday and then these ones need to be paid by Thursday,” he explains to you, holding up the two separate folders in his hands.

Reaching out your hand for the folders, you feel your fingertips brush against his once you grab them. You withdraw your hands as quickly as possible, feeling your heartbeat pick up slightly as the subtle contact. Your gaze lingered on his arms for a moment, his sleeves rolled up just the way you liked. Minho is so effortlessly attractive that it’s unfair.

You pry your eyes away from his forearms, away from the veins you can see running along his arms, instead looking at his face. The moment you look him in the eyes, however, you can’t help but think that maybe staring at his arms would have been the better option. His eyes were just as pretty as the rest of him, but the way he was looking at you right now, the way he was staring so intently at you, had you cowering slightly under his gaze.

“So, you had lunch yet?” he asks, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you, resting his hands in his pockets.

“Not yet, was just about to head up to the cafeteria shortly,” you reply, your eye focus being caught by his stance. You can picture it, him standing over you just the way he is now, hands in pockets, forearms visible, smirk on his face. Just imagining him standing there like that, looking down at you like you’re some sort of prey while you’re on your knees for him. Slowly undoing his belt and-

“Well, I was gonna head up now. Wanna join me?” you are once again pulled from your wandering thoughts by Minho, but the damage had already been done. You could feel your neediness throbbing in your pussy, your slickness slightly coating your underwear.

“Uh, sure,” you say, quickly locking your computer and grabbing your lunch.

You walk with Minho back towards his own desk so that he can pick up his own food before making your way up stairs to the third floor. Once you both make it to the cafeteria for the shelves. You grab your mug before making yourself a coffee, Minho doing the same next to you.

You both head towards a back corner of the large room, finding two seats at a small coffee table. A small conversation begins between the two of you, somewhat awkward, but not uncomfortably so. The occasional silences weren’t left empty, instead being filled with lingering glances at one another.

You make it through all your food and just over half of your coffee before it happens. Disaster. Minho has looked away from you for just a moment and the sunlight cascading through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows hit him in just the right way. It made him glow in the light, distracting you while you took a drink from your mug. You weren’t focusing on anything but how delicious he looked in front of you, ending up with you tipping your mug up to far and spilling it all down your front and onto your lap.

Your small yelp snaps his attention back to you and you both just stare down at your soiled clothes. Heat rushes to your face when you realise the exact repercussions of what’s just happened, and the heat spreads when you notice that Minho has also realised it. Your white blouse drenched in coffee; the material becoming see through. Minho’s gaze lingers on your chest for a moment too long for between normal co-workers, your bra entirely visible through the now coffee-coloured fabric.

Minho clears his throat before speaking. “Uh- I’ll g-get something to help clean that up,” he stutters out, standing up as quickly as possible before rushing off to grab some napkins. It’s not long before he returns, a whole stack in his grip.

He places them on the table, taking his seat again. Picking a couple napkins back up he turns his whole body towards you. Your breathing stutters when he leans in close to you, your eyes looking deep into his as he freezes in place.

He’s torn. Torn between wanting to help you for your sake, wanting to help you for the sake of being able to touch you, and not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He can hear his heart hammering in his ears, and he wonders if you can hear it too. Especially with how close the proximity currently is between you two.

He takes a deep breath before making a decision about whether or not to help you clean up. He reaches his hand out, carefully beginning to dab at the spilled drink on your lap, fully expecting to be told to stop.

You tense under his touch, but not out of discomfort. It’s the way his hand moves along your thigh that has you frozen. Your thigh. One of the more sensitive parts of your body, and his hand is rubbing back and forth along it. The contact causing your brain to short circuit as you feel the heat begin to pool in your core.

“Um… Make sure to soak these clothes before you wash them. That should help get any stains out,” Minho says, trying to ease the tension.

“Oh, yeah, thanks. I’ll be sure to do that,” you reply, his voice snapping you out of your stupor. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to ignore your growing arousal.

Minho has to fight back his own increasing need at the sight of you nibbling on your lower lip, wanting little more than for it to be his own teeth tugging at the soft flesh. But what really gets him, is you taking a few napkins and beginning to dab at the coffee on your shirt, unintentionally pulling his gaze back down to your chest. Now he was fighting back groans, trying desperately to let the sounds die in his throat before you get the chance to hear them. That would be too embarrassing for him to handle.

It’s not long before you sigh a heavy sigh, giving up the hopes of being able to save your outfit and keep your presentability for the workplace, accepting it as a lost cause. Minho stops his own wiping at the sound, looking at you instead, waiting for you to speak.

“You know what, this is a mess. I might as well just head home for the rest of the day. There’s no point sitting here at my desk all day like this,” you say, looking down at your clothes. “Besides, most of my work is done for the day anyway.”

It’s only when you lift your head up when you finish speaking that you realise just how close Minho’s face is to your own. Close enough for you to feel his breaths against your cheek. Your eyes dart down to his lips, but only for a split second, not wanting to make your arousal so obvious. Minho, however, notices. But luckily for you, he decides not to say anything about it. Yet.

“That sounds like a good idea. Uh… here,” he says, removing his blazer jacket and holding it out to you.

You reach out and grab it, your fingers once again momentarily connecting with his as you take the item he’s passing you. You both rise to your feet and you give him a confused look, wondering why he’s handing you his blazer.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to walk around with a see-through shirt,” he explains in response to your unspoken question.

The heat returns to your cheeks at his statement, quickly pulling the clothing item on and buttoning it up, making an attempt to cover yourself.

“Thanks,” you say. There’s some part of you that doesn’t really want to cover yourself, that wants Minho to see you. But you push that part aside. After all, you’ve got to maintain some sort of professionalism. “We should probably head back down now.”

“Yeah.”

You both gather your belongings, taking your mugs over to the dirty dishes rack and placing them in along with all the other dishes. Yet another silence befalls the two of you as you make your way back down the stairs to your floor, the quietness neither comfortable nor awkward. Something in between.

Finally reaching your floor, you make a beeline for your desk, aiming to grab your bag and get out of here as quickly as possible. But before you grab your things and head into your boss’s office to say that you’re leaving early, you pause, turning back to Minho again, stopping him before he gets too far away.

“I’ll get your jacket back to you on Monday if you want. I’ll even get it cleaned to make sure there’s no coffee on it.”

He takes a moment to think, once again torn between options. One being just saying okay and letting you just bring it to work with you on Monday. And the other option… Well, if the way you were almost whining when he was touching your thigh earlier is anything to go by, then the second option might just work out for him. Fuck it.

“Or you could bring it over to my place? Tonight? I-if you want to,” he says, making sure to keep his voice only loud enough for you to hear, not wanting any nosy co-workers listening in.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire as you think of the possible outcomes of you going over to his house, albeit under the guise of simply returning his blazer. You can already feel yourself growing wetter at the thoughts running through your mind. You blink rapidly, shaking your head slightly to yourself, remembering that you have to answer him instead of just standing there daydreaming all day.

“You’re in luck. I was gonna go out for a few drinks tonight, but my friends all cancelled on me. So, it turns out that I’m available,” you say, fighting hard to keep your voice steady and to not let on just how needy you were.

“Well, you could always have those drinks with me while you’re over,” he offers, stepping closer to your desk.

“I could.”

You both smirk at each other, knowing exactly what the outcome of tonight will be. Minho searches around your desk for a moment, eventually finding and grabbing a sticky note and a pen. He scribbles something down before handing it to you.

“That’s my address. See you at 7?”

“Sure thing, see you then.”

He smirks at you again before finally heading back to his own desk and you finally head off home, being sure to stop in and let your boss know you’re leaving.

______________________

Before long, 7 o’clock rolls around and you’re sitting in your car, parked on the road-side, opposite Minho’s house. Checking yourself in your rear-view mirror quickly, you make sure you look presentable before getting out of your car, his blazer draped over your arm. You’re somewhat nervous as you approach his front door, reaching up and knocking. It only takes a short moment before the door swings open, revealing Minho. He steps backwards, holding the door open as he gestures for you to enter. You step past him and into the house, taking in his appearance while he closes the door behind you.

His outfit is simple, a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans, but to you he looks damn fine. His jeans are tight enough to show off his thighs while not being too tight that it would create any struggle to remove quickly. That’s handy. And his shirt leaves his delicious arms on display. You look up at his face just to see him staring at you in the same way you were just starting at him. Like you’re the single best thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Hi,” you say, bringing his attention back to the current moment. He blinks a few times, taking a moment to recollect his thoughts.

“Hey, you look really good.” He gestures towards your dress. You chose one that was simple, yet effective at its job. You wanted to wear something that showed off your legs, something that would get his attention. And judging by the way he kept looking you up and down, it was working.

“Here’s you blazer,” you say, holding it out for him.

“Oh yeah, thanks,” he replies, having already forgotten that he’d even let you borrow it in the first place. “I’ll just go put that away. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

He dashes off down the hallway, presumedly towards his bedroom. To take the moment alone to take in your surroundings, noting how Minho’s house had a very homely feel to it.

You take a seat on the couch while you wait for him to return. And it doesn’t take him long to do just that, already walking back up the hallway towards where you are. He heads to the kitchen first, grabbing a couple of glasses.

“I have some wine here. Want some?” he offers.

“Sure,” you say, knowing that soon enough the drinks will be abandoned in favour of other activities.

It’s not long before Minho approaches you, two glasses of wine in his hands. He hands one to you before taking a seat in the spot next to you on the couch. Directly next to you. He’s so close that the side of his leg rests against yours, but you’re not complaining.

“Try not to get too distracted by me again,” he says, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “We wouldn’t want you to spill another drink.”

You both laugh at his teasing statement, but your mind focuses on the word again and you realise that he did know the causing of today’s earlier mishap. Well, that’s a bit embarrassing.

The next short while is filled with more idle chit-chat, a measly attempt at wasting time before getting down to business. The entire time you’re talking, Minho’s arm is resting along the back of the couch behind your head and he’s very shamelessly eye fucking you. In his defence though, you’re doing the exact same thing to him.

“Do you want another glass?” Minho asks when you finish your wine, placing his hand that’s not currently resting on the back of the couch on your thigh. You let out an audible breath as his hand softly caresses the flesh, the feeling sending pools of arousal directly to your heat. As his fingers slowly trail further up, beginning to disappear under the skirt of your dress, you know that he’s not really offering you another drink. It’s his way of moving the conversation along, of asking you if you’re ready to do what you truly came here for.

And you’d be damned if you weren’t ready.

His fingers continue to travel higher, skimming along your inner thigh, avoiding where you desperately need him. You bite your lip, trying to stifle a whimper. It doesn’t work, and it instead draws Minho’s focus to your mouth. And he’s back to thinking about your mouth, how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock. The idea alone has him growing painfully hard in his jeans. Hell, he’d do anything to have your lips on him, in any way.

“M-Minho, please,” you whisper, wanting him to stop his teasing caresses and finally touch you the way you want. The way you need.

“Please what?”

“Please t-touch me.”

“Touch you? I am touching you,” he says, stopping his hand’s movements and instead just resting it in place.

“No, please touch my p-pussy,” you say, your hands coming up to cover your face, embarrassment coursing through your body, causing your face to heat up.

Normally, Minho smirked at you, getting a kick out of how flustered you are.

“Ah, I see. Well, if you want that to happen then you have to prove to me how much you want it.”

And that has you whining.

You quickly manoeuvre yourself so that you’re straddling Minho’s lap, tired of waiting for him to provide you with some much needed friction. Your hands rest on his shoulders, his own flying to your hips when you slowly, experimentally grind down on him. Your actions get the best reward, in the form on a shaky moan from Minho, and that’s the moment you can tell that this whole thing is affecting him just as much as it’s affecting you.

When he told you to prove it, he was expecting you to just get more flustered. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to make such a bold move. You roll your hips against him again, this time drawing a moan from yourself. One of his hands slides up your back, grabbing the zipper for your dress and slowly sliding it down. Once he has it undone, he pulls the dress up and off your body, revealing your lack of bra underneath. Shit, he hadn’t even noticed earlier that you weren’t wearing one, he was too distracted by your legs. He looks up at you, his own lust-filled eyes meeting yours, watching you lean in closer to him. Closer, and closer.

And then your lips – those oh so pretty lips – were on his own, moving together in a rush of adrenaline and lust. There was no delicacy in the kiss, only pure wanton desire as your hands roamed each other’s bodies. You’d both been waiting for this for so long. Craving it.

His hands slide down to your ass, kneading the flesh. He’s quick to stand up, keeping you held up, your legs wrapping around his torso. He carries you down the hallway, only breaking the kiss for a split second at a time to make sure he didn’t bump into anything, before he would dive back into your lips. Your kisses were intoxicating, addicting. Minho just couldn’t get enough. Even when he finally made it to his bedroom, dropping you down onto the bed, he still doesn’t pull away. It’s only when you pull away for breath that he stops, you both panting deeply from the lack of oxygen for so long.

Your hands glide across his linen-clad chest, the fabric warmed from his hot skin. He groans lowly at your touch, desperately wanting more. One of his own hands finds it’s way to your breast, his thumb rubbing over the hardened nipple.

His touch is soft, gentle. He’s testing the waters, wanting to figure out what you like, what touches really get you going. He knows he’s on the right track when your back arches slightly at the contact, and he grazes his thumbs over the nub again, harder this time.

You can feel how soaked you are, your underwear beginning to stick to you uncomfortably. You buck your hips upwards, trying desperately to get some sort of solid friction going, the aching between your legs bordering on painful. Sensing just how strong your need is, Minho pulls away from you, moving down the bed until he’s laying between your thighs, his fingers already dipping into the waistband of your underwear.

He wastes little time in pulling the fabric down your legs and tossing them off to the side. And now, finally, after so long of wanting it, he’s able to gaze upon your pussy, glistening with your juices.

“Holy shit, you’re so wet you’re dripping,” he exclaims, looking up and making eye contact with you. And it makes you clench around nothing when you look at the man that’s remained on your mind with his head between your thighs.

“Only for you,” you reply, even your voice dripping with need. Minho looks back down at your soaked cunt and, in the split seconds before his touch, every nerve in your body and mind comes alive with electricity. He licks one long stripe along your entrance, and the moan you let out is obscene. And he loves it.

Minho is filled with a new determination, a determination to make you moan over and over again. To have you feeling so good that you’re screaming his name.

He circles his lips around your clit, working the nerve bundle with his mouth while he brings a hand down to work your entrance. He slides a digit it, immediately curling it in search of your special spot. He quickly adds a second finger, continuing his search for your g-spot. He knows he’s finally found it when your hands go flying to his head, threading into his hair, tugging hard. He groans at the sensation, loving the way your hands feel in his hair. God, everything you do just turns him on, and he begins to unconsciously rut his hips into the mattress. He continues working your core while you moan uncontrollably.

“F-fuck, Minho. I’m s-so close,” you manage to whimper out, but he already knows. The way your walls tighten around his fingers over and over tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do it, baby. Cum for me,” he says, and you don’t have to be told twice, your orgasm washing over you with more force than you expected. He finger-fucks you through your high, only stopping when your body stops convulsing in waves of pleasure. He pulls his hand away from your core, a whine escaping you at the empty feeling. If he could make you cum that hard with just his fingers and mouth, how on earth are you going to survive cumming on his cock?

He crawls back up your body, placing his arousal-coated fingers at your lips. You open your mouth with no hesitation, immediately sucking the digits in, swirling your tongue over them as you sucked. The sight alone almost had Minho cumming in his jeans. For so long, all he’s wanted is your lips around some part of him, and while he also wanted to be graces with the visual of you sucking on his cock like your life depended on it, he was more desperate to just fuck you.

He wastes no more time in ridding himself of his clothes until he’s completely bare, reaching into his bedside table draw for a condom. positioning himself above you once again. He’s about to open the condom packet before you stop him, taking it from his hands opening it yourself. He moans when you slide the condom down his length, your hands feeling better on his cock than his own ever could.

The moment you lie back down, he lines himself up with your entrance, not wanting to go another moment without being inside you. He pushes into you, not stopping until his hips rest against yours, the room filling with moans as your bodies finally connect. His cock stretches your walls so perfectly, like two puzzle pieces made for each other.

After a brief pause, he slowly pulls back you, only to thrust back into you. He repeats the motions, gradually settling into a solid pace, not to fast and not too slow, a perfect balance of the two.

He drags his lips up the soft skin of your neck placing sloppy kisses as over, being sure not to leave any marks. As much as he wanted to mark you where it was visible, he couldn’t. He didn’t want you to have to go through the hassle of covering them each day at work while you wait for them do disappear. Instead, he opted for sucking bruises into your collarbones and along your chest.

Your brain felt like static, unable to string together a single coherent thought as Minho continues to thrust into you, pleasure radiating throughout your entire body. The knot in your stomach grows tighter for the second time during the night, and from the way Minho’s thrusts are getting sloppier, you can tell that he’s close to his own end as well.

He slides his free hand in between the two of you, fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles into the bundle of nerves, and you feel yourself unravel, his fingers being the final to push you over the edge. And it’s your fluttering walls that has the same effect on Minho. You both ride out your highs together, him spilling into the condom and you around his cock. Your loud moans are music to his ears, while his are the same to yours.

Once you both come back down from your highs, Minho pulls himself away from you, quickly disposing of the condom before coming back to lay next to you.

Your body feels heavy, your brain foggy and distant, a tiredness falling over your entire being, exhausted from your orgasms. You groggily roll onto your side, curling your body up into Minho’s and almost instantly drifting off into sleep. He wraps an arm around you in return, feeling sleep approach for him as well. He rests his face against the top of your sleeping head, placing a chaste kiss to your hair. And just before he let himself fall asleep, he made sure plan out in his mind what he was gonna cook you for breakfast in the morning; pancakes.

#stray kids smut #lee know smut #skz lee minho smut #skz smut

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serenadeonacanoe · 3 years

Text

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

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CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

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#namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #artist!namjoon

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