#as I was writing I might have thought about ballet and tango as well | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

minhosimthings · 5 months ago

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The Fallen One || 18+

Synopsis: For the final day of the pact, you find yourself intoxicated by the man you've yearned for, forever.

Pairings: detective!Jay × fem!reader

Warnings: smut minors Dni, fingering, cock riding, p in v sex, unprotected sex (not for you), reader has like three orgasms?, Jay's just really obsessed, Fluffy in the end, swearing, mention of food and alcohol, final fuck you to Heeseung yay

A/N: I haven't been able to carry out with my og plot in this fic because I, like an idiot, forgot I included bondage and i just wrote everything and now I neither have the heart nor the energy to write anything else, so to all my babies who wanted bondage, there's a fic in my wips for y'all. Anywho I had fun working on this series! Thank you for all the support that got me through writing everything and I hope next time my brain remembers to write WHAT WAS INTENDED IN THE FIRST PLACE-

Series Masterlist

Jay's calloused fingers nudged a mauve hued record back into its place, near and tidy on an oak shelf slightly shorter than him. His eyes travelled to another section of the shelf, where his hands picked up an olive green record, silently sitting at the back, overshadowed by the bright blues that surrounded it.

His mouth stretched into a thin quiet smile as he gently took the vinyl out, admiring its sleek look in the faint light of his bedroom, before he set it to it's position on his record player. Picking up his glass of dark red wine, Jay toyed with the sharp needle of the nostalgia emitting record player, before setting it onto the spinning vinyl.

The sound of stiff bones cracking was heard as he plopped down on his armchair near the warm fireplace, wine in hand, with hypnotising music playing in the background. Sipping his wine, he stared at the fire place, watching as every flame danced to the music, some did the tango, while some did the ballet.

Don't think about her, he thought to himself, anything but her.

Jay sighed heavily to himself as he twirled the last remnants of the wine in his glass, he had no idea how fast he had drunk it. He could hear rain pattering away mercilessly outside whilst the hours ticked away as he waited for tomorrow to come and whisk him away.

The second sigh of the evening dropped seethingly from his mouth as his eyes fluttered over to the picture frames on the wall. He smiled as he ran his eyes over the memories of old, forever remembered in hues and colours, lest they ever leave his mind.

A picture of him and his parents stood proud next to a ridiculous picture of him, Sunghoon and Jake standing next to a lake. He laughed as he recalled how they had fell into the murky water that day, pushing each other in, until everything ended in dirty clothes and raucous laughter. Another picture stood rather drab next to the bright coloured photos of Jay with his boss, recieving an award. The picture was dusty, as if it has been avoided by Jay when he was cleaning it.

Jay's eyes paused at the dust spiders on the picture and he walked near it, peering to see the picture that was held inside the carved frame.

Him, a woman and Heeseung, with smiles imprinted on your faces, against a backdrop of what looked like a school building. Jay gently took the picture of of the wall, it slid easily off the wallpaper, and set it down on the table. If anyone had asked him later on for how long he had stared at it with confused thoughts, he'd have responded with a confused look.

If only she had chosen me, he thought, if only....

The third exhausted sigh came as Jay realised he should probably sleeping, glancing at the clock to notice that it was 3 am in the morning already. He'd only get a few hours of sleep, but something was better was nothing, and for him, three hours of sleep was more than enough. And if it was on his beloved armchair next to a cozy fire? He might as well have announced Christmas dinner.

Jay plopped onto his armchair once more, now folding up his legs to snuggle into the seat, all warm next to the crackling fire, with the sound of rain making him drift off to sleep.

He made sure, by whatever ill will, to glance at the dusty picture he set on the table once more, peer at the intoxicating smile of the woman, and the man next to her, his arm wrapped around her waist protectively. Jay thought his face looked rather sour in the picture, the memories of it were even sourer but dawn was no time to think of them.

And so he went off to sleep at last, fighting off troubled thoughts and an uneasy heart.

If only she had chosen me.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

"Where did you say Y/N was staying again?" Sunghoon looked up from his pile of paperwork to answer the questioning voice.

"Baker's Street." He answered in his usual condescending voice, "Why do you ask?"

Jay shrugged in response to his friend's question, quickly pretending to be interested in his own pile of paperwork, though Sunghoon was quick to notice the tiny smile dancing on his lips. "Jongsoeng don't tell me you're going to do anything stupid."

"You're telling that to me?" Jay laughed, which came out more like a scoff, "I'll be fine."

"Don't buy her cake like I did." Jake commented from the other side, a pen stuck behind his ear, "Unless you want Mr Fuck Up over there to intervene." He lowered his voice with the last words, glaring towards Heeseung, who was working on the other side of the office.

Jay hadn't exactly been careful all day around Heeseung, treating him normally, though he did make sure to amplify his voice when speaking your name. Such as now, when he had asked Sunghoon where you were staying. He had no intention to make Heeseung jealous or anything. No, he had a firm desire to make Heeseung jealous and angry.

"Jay can I talk to you for a second?"

Speak of the devil.

Jay looked up from his paperwork (quick to change his expression from annoyed to normal) to see Heeseung staring at him with a weird look.

"I need to talk to you." Heeseung repeated, causing Jay to internally cringe. "What about?" Jay asked, to which Heeseung looked around before grabbing Jay's arms and dragging him (against his will) to the empty break room.

"I need to talk about—" Heeseung paused, taking a breath, "—about Y/N."

"What about her?" Jay asked, voice remaining calm, though his knuckles were certainly gripping the edge of the table he leant on, very tightly, "She's doing well, if you wanted to ask."

"Jay come on." Heeseung sighed, "I know about this little pact between you guys and Y/N and–" he fiddled with his fingers, "I know I've had some downs, but I really need to apologise to Y/N. I've ditched Yeo-Hee anyway, and–" he chuckled, "–can we not let bygones be bygones?"

"Bygones be bygones?" Jay let out a cold laugh, the expression on his face was terrifying and though Heeseung wouldn't have admitted it, he was scared, "Since when have you been using that phrase? Since high school I reckon?" Jay laughed again, "Ahh fuck I don't even understand why she even kept up with your cheating ass for so long. Tell me Heeseung," he leaned forward to look Heeseung menacingly in the eye, "Did you ever really love her?"

"Love her?" Heeseung responded, "Of course I love her, she's my wif-"

"Then will you tell her about Ji-ah from the other section or should I?"

"You wouldn't." Heeseung stared Jay down, though he was taller and older than him, he felt as if a hurricane was interrogating him, "Jay you can't. You know she'll never forgive me."

"She shouldn't." Jay laced his words with venom, "She should never forgive a fucking bastard like you."

"Ok fine." Heeseung sighed, "Can you atleast tell her I'm sorry?"

"Tell her yourself, coward." Jay quipped, which perhaps was a mistake, when he looked at Heeseung's angry expression.

"Coward?" Heeseung laughed, "Wouldn't that be more fitting for you, Jongsoeng?" He stepped forward, "If you hadn't been a coward with poor heartbroken 16 year old Y/N, we probably wouldn't be here and I'd be thankful I hadn't ever dated that bitch."

Heeseung couldn't comprehend what has happened in the next few moments. All he could recall if you had asked him now what happened, was a loud thud, his back against a wall, Jay's cat like eyes becoming deadly and Jake and Sunghoon's shocked faces.

"Don't you call her that, you insipid jackass." Jay snarled at the older man, with his hands gripping the collar of Heeseung's shirt tightly, whilst pressing him to the wall, "Don't you ever call her anything less than what you fucking are. A coward, and a cheat." Jay released his grip on Heeseung's shirt with a guffaw, before stepping out of the room, leaving behind an air of tension and fear.

|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|

Your eyes scanned the room nervously, as you eased into the maroon hued armchair. The anxiety you held within you at the moment, was easily captured by the way you were fiddling with your fingers and biting your bottom lip until you tasted iron in your mouth.

It's just Jay, you reminded yourself, the man you've had a crush on since forever, it's just him.

"Keep biting that lip of yours and you're going to lose it." Jay chuckled, walking in with mugs of tea in his hand, "Still haven't lost that habit have you doll?"

"Well with you no longer there to remind me–" you graciously accepted the mug, noting carefully how his fingers brushed against yours, "–its become an addiction."

"Well, I'll make sure to write to you everyday not to bite your lip." He joked, making you laugh. God he looked heavenly, you thought, figure clad in his loose white button up, the one he wore to work, combined with a blue trouser which framed his thighs perfectly.

"You-you look good." You said, in a timid fashion, making Jay look up from his mug and smile at you.

"As do you, doll." He grinned. The cocoons in your stomach erupted into a thousand butterflies at the nickname. It was what he used to call you in high school, mainly to tease you, and partly (or rather secretly) to compliment your beauty.

"Heeseung asked me to apologise to you." Jay chuckled coldly, interrupting your train of thoughts, "Bastard came up to me at work and just bombarded me with requests." He looked up at you before continuing, "He wants you to know that he's broken up with the other girl, Yeo-Hee or whoever."

"Oh." You responded, not exactly knowing what a good response would be, "Well—good, I guess." You said, not adding anything until a few minutes of silence passed, "Does the idiot really think he can get me back with a simple apology?"

"He does." Jay set his mug down on the table, easing into his chair, "If it were me, I'd have written a thousand pages of poetry for you."

"You wouldn't have ever done what he did."

"Wouldn't I?" Jay's eyes perked up at you, shadowed with a kind of darkness you've never seen before.

"No you wouldn't." You responded, "I know you wouldn't, you're too...perfect for that."

"Perfect?" Jay laughed mockingly, "Y/N if I were perfect, we wouldn't be in this situation–" he didn't know where his words were coming from, "–and you'd have never married that fucker!"

Jay's sudden amplified voice made you flinch, you had heard that voice on only one occasion before and it was not a pretty thing to hear at all.

"Jay....."

"I'm sorry." Jay sighed, running his hand through his hair, "This is a mistake–I'll drop you off at home if you don't want this anymore-"

"Oh my God, you're an idiot." You said, stopping Jay's rambling and causing him to look up at you with confused eyes, "Do you really think I'll skip this just because you raised your voice?"

"No I meant–" Jay sighed again, getting up from his armchair suddenly and packing around the room, a habit he had from childhood, "–I know things aren't really sunshine and rainbows between us, and you probably don't feel comfy fucking someone who's been with you since high school so–fuck I'm rambling." He mumbled the last part under his breath, taking a deep breath, before continuing, "Y/N, what I want to say is–I'm sorry." He looked at you again, "I'm sorry for not being good enough for you, but please–" he knelt down in front of you, so you could be at eye level, "–forgive me, if you still can."

"Oh my god you idiotic dunce." You laughed at him, causing his expression to change to one of confusion.

Jay didn't have time to register what happened next, the only feeling his mind knew was the touch of your soft, familiar lips on his, the mere atoms that existed between you, now faded away as you ravaged each other, each attempt to get closer, an attempt of love and confusion.

"Fuck, doll," he groaned, your foreheads leaning against one another, his hands gripping the fabric on your waist. You looked up into his eyes, witnessing the inner battle reflected in his gaze as he grappled with the decision to restrain himself or not.

"Fuck it." He finally said, grabbing your face with his hands and pulling you towards him for yet another kiss.

He kissed you like he was dying, his body subconsciously reacting more to the kiss then he’d wish it to. He pulled your flush against him, his strong hands coming to cup your face, his shoulders shrugging in a futile attempt to have you closer. Jay opened his mouth, causing you to gasp at the feeling of his tongue against yours. Your mouth moved with his as if it was known to you; As if this was a dance you had practiced for years to perfect, as if the dance of your lips was a song that Jay had mastered just for you.

"Jay I-" you hesitated for a moment, what if he didn't say it back?, "I love you." His eyes—the color of an intoxicating champagne—beckoned you over with nothing more than a tired smile.

"Oh sweetheart," Jay's hand brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to hear that."

His mouth hesitantly chased yours until you brushed your fingers through his hair and pulled him towards you, finally connecting your lips again. His touch was gentle, almost like he wanted to be careful with you. Yet, you wanted to breathe him in—lustfully addicted to the taste of his lips.

His palms laid flat against the curvature of your back whilst your hands grabbed at his collar, pulling him flush against you—the throbbing between your legs did anything but lessen with the close proximity.

Jay had never before tasted something sweeter; your saccharine lips fit so perfectly against his—he was convinced that they were made for him to kiss and caress. His cock stirred in his pants for he could only wonder how divine your cunt would taste on his tongue. Jay needed it all. he trailed his fingers up your front, pinning the fabric of his shirt over your tits. His fingertips dance across your skin as he detached his lips from yours.

"Wait Y/N–" Jay pulled away, leaving you chasing after him, "Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes," You breathed, pressing a kiss to his lips, "Fuck yes I want this."

Jay needed no more words from you as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, as you kissed him back, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Wait a minute love." Jay mumbled into your ear. Slipping his arms beneath you, he lifted you into his arms, his hands squeezing your ass as you wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms round his neck for support. Jay led you to the adjacent room, presumably his bedroom, setting you down with care on his bed.

As soon as you were settled on the mattress, Jay's senses ravaged on you. His hands grabbed your face, pulling your lips against his in a passionate kiss. You could taste the bitterness in his mouth, perhaps from an afternoon shot of bourbon, the familiar scent of his cologne filling your senses. Jay's hands moved down your body, tracing the curves of your hips as he pulled you closer. As Jay's hands continued to explore your body, you couldn't help but sigh. "fuck Jay."

"Shh doll." Jay shushed you, "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

Your clothes quickly fell to a pile on the floor, and Jay's lips found your neck, leaving a trail of sweet but rough kisses. His touch was urgent and passionate, a release of the pent-up energy that had been building up all day.

Soon, he was pushing your underwear to the side, revealing your slick folds to him. The warm atmosphere of the room kissed your cunt with a breeze, eliciting a shallow gasp from you.

"Wet for me already, doll?" Jay smirked, his eyes travelling up and down your body, as if he was a saint worshiping his patron goddess. His low chuckle vibrated throughout your entire being, sending you into that same state you were in when you drank the aphrodisiac at Sunghoon's house. It was pathetic on your part that Jay had managed to get you like this without so much as sticking his fingers in you.

"Jay stop teasing-“ the words die on your tongue and you gasp for air, fingers pulling at his soft locks as he prods his fingers at your entrance. Your cunt sucked him in with ease—his long fingers fucking deep into your pussy. Your hand swiftly gripped the edge of the bedsheet until he placed his hand over yours—gently intertwining your fingers while you arch your back in pleasure.

Jay leaves one final kiss to your lips before leaning back and forcing your knee down with his left hand. He was locked in a trance, watching the way your pussy would gush every time his fingers would pump inside of you. His fingers rapidly disappeared past your folds as you cried out.

Your hands frailly clawed at his wrist, only to be swatted away while he kept his pace—eyes trained on your precious cunt.

With parted lips, you brought your gaze down to glance his fingers as they were buried knuckle-deep inside of you, you couldn’t even hint for him to stop, not that you wanted him to anyway. How could you? With the way he was beginning to curl his fingers forward, pushing against your slick walls, it was nearly impossible to push him away. The feeling alone forced a chain of whimpers from your mouth, only encouraging him to do more.

He continued to fuck you with his fingers, pushing and pulling them out of you with a growing sense of urgency. Eventually, he was leaning down to connect his lips with your nipple before beginning to suck on the sensitive bud with haste.

"Jay—ahhh." You draw out a raspy moan, feeling his tongue circle around your nipple, "Jay I—"

But before you could even finish your sentence, your larynx was screaming out his name like it was gospel, as you came messily all over his fingers. Jay smirked, as he gazed at your beautiful, fucked out face, his dick positively bursting from how much he wanted to absolutely ruin you.

"Eyes on me, doll." Jay commanded, you moved your pupils to face him. He looked absolutely breathtaking, towering above you. You winced as his fingers dug deep into your waist, he lifted you up with ease and propped you on top of him. Your positions were now switched, and you had no idea what to do.

"Go ahead and take my pants off." He told you. You happily obliged, your fingers were practically scrambling to unzip his pants, as you tore them off of his legs, revealing the cause of his earlier bulge. You hum at the sight of his cock, licking your lips as you swipe a thumb over the angry red tip, spreading a bead of precum over it, causing Jay to let out an almost inaudible moan.

"Now—" Jay sighed, hard enough from the feeling of your fingers on his length, "Be a good girl and ride my cock."

Your eyes widened at his words. You were delighted, of course, at the mere prospect of having his dick to yourself. Unfortunately for you, you had no idea how to tell him you didn't know how to do what he wanted you to do.

"I can't." You mumbled underneath your breath, causing Jay to chuckle.

"Speak up sweetheart, I can't hear you."

"I don't know to do it!" You said, more agressively than you had intended to say it. But Jay just laughed again, this time it was more of a mocking one than amused.

"Oh sweetheart." He extended a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek, his hand was warmer than your face so you melted into his touch, "Want me to help you?"

You did nothing but simply nod, feeling slightly ashamed and slightly insecure about the fact that your brain was telling you, you've disappointed him.

"What's going on in that brain of yours hmm?" Jay grabbed your hips pulling you down onto his stomach, "Scared, doll?"

"No—no!" You panicked, "It's just that—what if I don't...do it correct?"

"Doll, do you really think I'd be mad at that?" Jay raised a brow at you, which quickly turned into a expression of concern, "Did Heeseung ever do that to you?"

"Sometimes." You mumbled underneath your breath, "He'd get mad at me if I didn't know."

"Fucking bastard." Jay said, his hands gripped your hips tighter, as his eyes wandered all over your body. He couldn't bring himself to even comprehend how Heeseung could have behaved like that with you.

"I-I do know some things." You started, adjusting your body on Jay's stomach, "I know how to—" you paused, "—get on."

You felt your cheeks heat up rapidly as you internally slapped your forehead. Jay chuckled at your embarrassed expression, hands still digging into your hip.

"Alright then." Jay said, freeing his hands from your body, "Go on."

Sighing, Jay lies back down, hips going still. You shift yourself so that your pussy is lined up with his cock, using a hand to brush the tip against your folds, never going further than that. Jay lets out a whimper at the teasing sensation.

"Fuck doll—don't tease..." Jay sighs in pleasure, as you lift yourself up, hands on either of his shoulders. Both of you let out a collective, satisfied moan as you slowly sink down on his length, feeling it stretch open your cunt slow and steady. Jay groaned again as you gripped him tighter to balance yourself. His hands found their way back to your hips.

"shhh." Jay's big hands continued to roam around your body, one landing on the small of your back and the other massaging and cupping your tits. He used his hand on your back to push you down further.

"breathe, love, i'll help you." when you finally sank all the way down onto his cock, when Jay was finally buried balls-deep in your pretty little pussy, it felt so amazing because you were so so full.

No one had ever been so deep inside you. His cock was kissing your cervix, and it had your pussy clenching down on him so tightly that you thought it might be a little hard to move.

“Fuck.” You lift your hips, and slowly ease yourself down again. Lustful whimpers and moans escaped you as you slowly repeated your motions, feeling almost dizzy at the way his big cock was stretching you out. His dick felt so fucking good; hot and throbbing and aching to burst inside you.

Throwing whatever scrap of inhibition you have left, you raise your lower body before roughly slamming your ass back down. The harsh movement makes you cry out in pleasure. You start to move eagerly, not holding back any of your movements.

Once you got started, you couldn't stop the rhythm — up and down up and down up and down — until your vision began to blur from how fucking good it felt. His cock hits deep inside you, stretching out your tight little hole with every bounce.

Jay's view from below you was incredible. tits bouncing, head flung back, and moans pornographic — it was all enough to drive a man mad. he couldn't keep his hands off of you. whether they were gripping at your thighs to keep you warm on his dick, or gripping and pinching at your nipples, or running them over your back hard enough to leave scratch marks, they were constantly in motion — worshipping your beautiful body.

"You're so—fuck—pretty." Jay cooed at you, ignoring the sharp pain on his shoulders with how you were digging your nails into his skin, "be a good doll for me now."

You were straddling him, your head thrown back with both hands on his shoulders as you tried to keep a quick pace. He had his hands pressed deep into your hips, helping you move in a fluid motion. You felt him hit your sweet spot every time you made your way down, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling.

"Fuck doll—" Jay moaned, he was loving the way you were using him for you own pleasure, "G-Good girl, you're a good girl for me aren't you?"

You couldn’t hold in the loud moan you had been holding in for a long time, feeling your stomach flutter at his words. You felt a slight burning in your thighs and you knew Jay's shoulders held tiny crescent shapes from how tight your grip had become. You felt one of Jay's hands move to your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves.

A pathetic whimper escaped your lips as you felt a familiar fire burn in your core, edging ever closer as you drove yourself to the end of the tunnel. It didn't help that Jay perked his hips up, practically slamming his tip into the deepest crevices of your pussy and driving you insane as you finally came down.

Your moans grow louder, echoing on the walls as you feel the impending climax. "I'm cumming! Oh god, don't stop!" Each word is punctuated by a sharp intake of breath and a quivering sensation throughout your body. Your pussy gripped tightly around him, milking his cock with every thrust. Your legs tremble and your body shivers, wracked with pleasure as your orgasm crashes over you. "Fuck, I’m cumming!”

Gazing at your drunken being, Jay took the opportunity to harshly grab your hips, and bring you down underneath him. Your back hit the mattress roughly, as you felt nothing but his cum still in your walls.

You were awoken out of your cock-drunk stupor by the harmonious taste of Jay's lips, as he kissed you, his hands circling your breasts

His neck muscles strained as he deepened the kiss. You broke the kiss as you looked down at him, your breathing uneven. The low lighting making him look absolutely ravishing. Freshly kissed lips made them redder as his eyes droopy from the lust behind them, looking at you.

"Jay please..." You trailed off, feeling exhausted from the expert riding lesson.

"Please what doll?" Jay chuckles into your neck, his tip teasing your labia. "Jay–need—your cock." You throat out. The room felt like it was spinning at a fast rate as Jay chuckled again. His cologne was like poison to you, wrapping you in tight corridors of pleasure and pain.

"Fuck, you're such a dumb doll for me aren't you?” he prompts, moving closer. He spits into his hand, pumping the moisture over his cock before positioning himself above you. You whimper as his tip touches your labia, he wasn't giving you what you wanted anytime soon, and you were getting impatient.

"Jay—" you say his name like a prayer your tongue had memorised, "—Jay, please..."

"Dumb fucking doll." Jay muttered under his breath, gripping your chin with his two fingers. He went in for a filthy, messy kiss, before you were cry out, the feeling of him pushing into you driving you mad.

Taking his dick between one hand, Jay slapped your ass in the other as he rubbed out the red imprint beginning to spread beneath his fingers. You vulnerably flinched at the feeling, letting a low moan out as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Rubbing his sensitive tip against your pussy, he hissed through his teeth at the feeling before lining himself up with your entrance. Holding your hips in his hands, he gripped his fingers on your skin as he pushed himself inside of you between your folds, equally pulling your hips back on his cock, your warmth instantly wrapping around him as your lips parted at the feeling, letting a moan out into the bed.

Waves of pleasure accompany the sting of the stretch, and your eyes flutter as he rocks slowly into you. He’s watching the way his cock splits you open, low grunts coming from deep in his chest. He shifts, one hand pressing on your lower stomach, thumb swirling over your clit. you cry out, head falling back onto the pillows. The other hand lifts one of your legs, pushing it towards your chest.

"Jay–ah-ahh" You moaned loudly, holding onto his biceps and burying your face into the crook of his neck. His hand slid in between your bodies, reaching down to your clit and rubbing rough circles, increasing the immense amount of pleasure you were experiencing.

Jay’s thrusting became faster, harder, like a man starved. His grasp on your chin returned to your hips. As Jay rolled back slightly, sitting on his knees, he brought your hips to meet his, your back still on the bed. From this angle he has full control over your body, not that he hadn’t before. But now he could control his thrusts, making them sharper, harder. Beneath him, your eyes screw shut in pleasure, consumed by his ministrations. You look beautiful like this, he thought.

Cheeks red, hair a mess, sweat glistening on your skin, he had been a fool not to have claimed you as his before. His wife, he thought, his and his only. "Ohh fuck!" You whined, feeling Jay's cock drill into you, hitting that perfect spot in your tight cunt. You were powerless underneath him, his balls slapping against your pussy with each thrust, his hands snaking around your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist as he pounded into you. He groaned in pleasure, leaning down and softly nibbling your earlobe,

"god, you're fucking amazing." His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he picked up the pace, his cock slamming into you with increasing intensity. He was merciless, taking what he wanted, dominating your body perfectly.

Jay's fingers dig deeper into my skin as he pounds into you, his dick was slamming against your most sensitive spot with every thrust. His hands slide up your back, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls my head back

"you're gonna look so pretty when you're all full of me, doll," he moans out and grabs your hips tightly with his rough hands, holding you in place as he slams into you.

Jay's hand slides from your hip to your clit, his fingers rubbing against it in slow, deliberate circles. You moan, your body trembling beneath him as he continues to thrust into you, his thick cock filling you completely.

His fingers move faster, his touch becoming more insistent as he rubs your clit, his movements matching the rhythm of his hips.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with every touch, every thrust. Jay's breath is hot against your ear, his voice husky with desire as he whispers sweet nothings against your skin.

You came hard and threw your eyes back, twisting your body and separating yourself from Jay's mouth in a desperate search for air. His chest was heaving, his skin was flushed and sweaty, your sex was still eagerly sucking the other's length that kept burying itself to the bottom in you, and then leaving and entering again as if it were predestined for that.

"Fuck, you're so hot." Jay moaned loudly, as he felt your pussy suffocate his length, "Fuck—you want my cum sweetheart?"

"Jay—oh fuck!" You gasped loudly, "N-Need your cum–please."

Jay groaned, you saw his Adam's apple protrude in his throat and you gasped, feeling him move slightly in your pussy.

"that's it doll, cum for me, fuck—just like that." He drawled out in a lazy whisper.

Jay rested his forehead on your collarbone and let out several low moans before cumming inside you. After recovering from the orgasm, he stood up again between your legs with a sigh, looked at your union dripping with fluids and came out of you, putting the semen that flowed from your entrance back inside with his fingers, making sure that everything stayed trapped inside you.

A painful emptiness was left in you when Jay slowly pulled out, with a train of curses escaping from his mouth, as he lay down next to you. You both lay in silence, with the only sound being the sound of your laboured breathing.

"So—" Jay broke the silence, "—what now?"

"What now?" You asked the same question back, with a slight chuckle as Jay smiled at you, "Do you want to get up or do you want to stay here for some more time?"

"I'd prefer the latter." He answered, scooting himself closer to you, "Unless you want to take a bath?"

You hummed in response, taking the invite to wrap yourself in his arms. Evidently, neither of you were interested in leaving the bedroom.

"Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too doll."

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demigodsanswer · 4 years ago

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Once Upon a Pointe: Chapter 5

Story Summery:

“Annabeth, you’re with Percy,’ Chiron said. Annabeth. She looked like the figurine in a little girl’s music box had come to life to dance in City Ballet. Percy felt like every opportunity to dance with her was a privilege. Just don’t forget the choreography, Percy thought as he got into the right starting spot for the wedding pas de deux. Don’t forget the choreography, and don’t drop her.”

Percy, a soloist with the ballet company, and he is offered one chance to dance with Annabeth, one of their star principals. If he nails the choreography, he might just earn a chance to dance with her. And, if he’s really lucky, he might get a date out of it as well.

Chapter Title: Diamonds

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Start from the beginning

Note:

Like the chapter itself, this note comes to you in two parts:

Part 1: Content warnings. This is the angst chapter. It gets into what happened between Luke and Annabeth and their breakup. There is talk of a relationship between someone who is underage and an adult. There are some scenes of verbal manipulation bordering on abuse. the particularly bad scene is the breakup scene. This scene is demarcated by ***** at the start and ~~~~~ at the end. If you want to skip this section, just control F for ~~~~~ when you get to the stars. Be aware, though, that some of this content is sprinkled throughout the chapter.

Part 2: There is a tendency when it comes to fiction, but esp. fan works, to conflate the events of the story with the authors moral or political stance. Annabeth talks in this chapter about a decision that she has made, and, likely, not a lot of people will agree with it. Please do not conflate this exploration of a fictional character in a fictional situation with what you think my moral or political stance on the issue is. This is a story, not my advice to survivors. On that note as well, please know that you are not entitled to my past, trauma, or research. Please do not come a-knocking demanding that I explain what may or may not have happened to me in the past or what research I may or may not have done to write this chapter. If you don't like the chapter, you are free to say so and/or to stop reading the story, but you are not entitled to my past. If you demand that information of me, I simply will not engage with your comment.

Part One: El Tango De Roxanne

“First there is desire. Then passion. Then suspicion. Jealousy, anger, betrayal. When love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. When there is no trust, there is no love. Jealousy, yes jealousy, will drive you mad!”

“You’re free to leave me, just don’t deceive me, and believe me when I say ‘I love you.’”

Ten Months Ago:

Beckendorf didn’t need to be in the “Diamonds” rehearsal, but he didn’t have anything else scheduled, and he wanted to see their progress. It was the first time in a long time that he hadn’t been slotted to dance with Annabeth, but it seemed like the right call. Beckendorf had always felt more suited to “Emeralds” than to “Diamonds.” Annabeth, though, fit into the elegance and opulence of Imperial Russia flawlessly.

He smiled as he watched Percy turn her around, perfectly on time with the music. Beckendorf had only spent eleven months in soloist purgatory (although it had taken him four years to reach that rank); he was sure that after three years in the corps and four years as a soloist, Percy was working as hard as he could to prove himself a principal. He sure did look like one as he and Annabeth continued their dance.

Beckendorf didn’t remember his own short stint as a soloist very fondly. Almost overnight, he had gone from dancing six ballets a night to one solo in one ballet following his promotion. Even though he had more solo time, his time on stage decreased, and he was never first or even tenth in line for principal roles the way he was now. For eleven months, he was desperate to get on stage and to get promoted. He didn’t know how Percy had managed living in that limbo for three years.

If anyone had earned their promotion by now, it was Percy.

Beckendorf watched the ballet master’s eyes track Percy’s technique, face, and movement, paying little attention to Annabeth. He smiled; they were testing him, and Percy was acing the exam.

~*~*~

Beckendorf ran into Luke in the showers. “Hey, saw Annabeth dance earlier. She looked good.”

Luke smirked as he got changed, heading into his own rehearsal. “Yeah, she’s gorgeous. Shame she has to dance with Jackson.”

Beckendorf furrowed his brow. “Percy’s a great dancer.”

He scoffed. “You sound like Annabeth. I swear, he’s all she talks about.” Luke went back to pulling warmups out his bag to cover his tights.

“I’m sure you don’t have to be jealous of Percy,” Beckendorf said. He talked to Annabeth pretty often, and he didn’t think she spent too much time gushing about Percy by any measure. As far as he could tell, Annabeth loved Luke more than anyone.

“I know,” Luke said, the smile back on his face. “She pretty much begged me to marry her.”

Beckendorf paused. He didn’t sound overly enthusiastic about getting married. He didn’t want to pry, but he felt like he had to ask.

“Do you not want to –”

Luke cut him off before he could continue. “Check these out,” he said, holding up his phone. “Bet Jackson wishes he could see these.”

Beckendorf looked away as quickly as he had looked at the phone. “What the hell, man?!” He yelled. Luke had shown him a wall of photos of Annabeth; the images had been thumbnail size, but it didn’t take long to notice that she was nearly or completely naked in all of them. “She’s your fiancé!”

“Aren’t I lucky?” He said casually.

Beckendorf tried to wrap his head around what had just happened.

He and Luke had been in the company together for years, but they had never been close. Beckendorf didn’t even show Luke photos of his and Silena’s honeymoon. He couldn’t figure out why Luke thought what he had just done was appropriate.

“You shouldn’t show people those,” he said finally.

“Please. She wouldn’t care.” Luke said, putting his phone away.

He felt himself getting angrier with each response Luke gave. Beckendorf had great respect for Annabeth and counted her a friend. He couldn’t understand why Luke would expose intimate pictures of her, especially to him.

“Have you asked?” Beckendorf asked, trying to keep his voice below a yell.

Luke didn’t answer his question. Instead he told Beckendorf: “Relax,” with a suave calmness, as if he hadn’t just shown Beckendorf dozens of naked photos of Annabeth.

Luke’s calmness pushed Beckendorf’s anger over the top. Beckendorf slammed Luke up against the row of lockers, making some of the doors shake.

Luke put up his hands. “What the hell, man?”

“Do you have any idea how fucked up this is?” Beckendorf asked, still holding him against the wall.

“Whoa, guys, what’s going on?” Beckendorf heard Jason say, coming around the corner to break up the fight. Beckendorf stepped away. He couldn’t hit Luke. If he did, he could lose his job or be arrested. Beckendorf grabbed his bag and left without a word to either of them.

~*~*~

“What should we do about this?” He asked Silena as they left the studio.

She shook her head. She wished she had been more surprised by what Charlie had told her, but she knew Luke better than a lot of people. Dancers rarely thought about who in the costume shop was listening to them.

He had seemed nice at first – charming, sweet, all those things. But Annabeth’s career had begun to take off; she was earning leads, first-cast roles, and getting promoted through the ranks quickly. His had begun to plateau. He was already a principal (a well-respected one, at that), and he was six years older than her. At thirty-three, his career was entering its sunset phase, and hers was on the rise.

She had heard him trying to undercut her accomplishments to other dancers, attempting to take credit for roles and promotions she earned, but she had never expected him to do something this low.

“We have to tell her,” Silena said. “We can’t let him keep doing this without her knowing.”

Charlie nodded. He had expected that answer. Still, it didn’t mean telling Annabeth was going to be any easier.

~*~*~

Annabeth wasn’t stupid. No matter how cheerful Silena had tried to sound on the phone (“Can Charlie and I drop by for a few minutes?” she had asked) that something was obviously wrong. She and Beckendorf were close, of course. They had done most of their partnering together for the last three years. But they didn’t hang out outside of rehearsal that often, and they didn’t just ‘drop by.’

What they were coming to talk to her about, though, was a mystery. She catastrophized of course – worse case scenarios all over the place – and she tried to rationalize – your friends just want to hang out.

When she opened her apartment door for them and saw their grim faces, though, she went back to catastrophizing.

“Can we come in?” Silena asked.

Annabeth stepped aside and let them in. “Make yourself at home.” She told them. She had started boiling some water when they were on their way and went over to the small kitchen area to pour the tea. “Can I get you anything? I made us some tea.” She said.

They both declined but accepted the tea silently.

The two of them sat on Annabeth’s couch, while she sat in the big chair at the foot of the coffee table.

“So, what’s up?” She asked, trying to hide how terrified she was of the answer.

The two looked at each other, as if they hadn’t rehearsed this part. Annabeth looked in between, them waiting for an answer.

Finally, Beckendorf took a deep breath, looked her in the eye and said: “Luke tried to show me nude photos of you today.”

Annabeth shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut as she let out a small laugh of disbelief. Beckendorf’s words bounced around her head but her mind refused to process them. “I’m sorry,” she said, “what did you just say?”

Silena nodded. “Luke tried to show him a bunch of naked pictures of you that he had on his phone.”

Annabeth shook her head again, her mouth open, trying to find words or a deep breath, but both escaped her. Time seemed to halt as what Beckendorf had just told her sank in. She felt her mind and emotions go numb to the news, her anxiety subsiding suddenly and inexplicably.

“Why?” She finally asked. Her brain seemed to turn back on suddenly, finally reacting in earnest to what she had been told.

Why would he do that? Why would he do that to me? Why would he show that to you? Why did you tell me about it? She wanted to yell. She felt a fierce anger deep in her gut, like she could run the eighty blocks to the studio and make a scene in front of his rehearsal.

“I, uh …” Beckendorf paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer, “it seems like he was jealous of you and Percy.”

Annabeth leaned her head back. She felt like she could scream as the rage bubbled up, finally finding words to attach itself to. “He always does this!” She said, standing up and pacing around her living room. “I mean, seriously, if I say I like partnering with someone who isn’t him, and we never partner together because he’s too tall and he knows that, he takes it as some personal attack or some sign that I’m cheating. And I’ve never cheated on him!” She folded her arms on the back of the chair, resting her head in them. “Fuck! I can’t even compliment a coworker?” She yelled towards the floor. “And now …” she paused and looked up. “Why would he show them to you?” She asked.

Beckendorf shrugged. “I told him how good you are Percy looked at your rehearsal, he said some jealous things about Percy, then showed them to me, saying that he bet Percy wishes he could see them. I don’t know if he wanted to prove something to me or tell Percy about them or what.”

Annabeth sat back down in the chair, sinking low into the cushions. Her anger subsided quickly, replaced with a deep and overwhelming sadness that seemed to rip through her chest as she began to sob.

They had gotten into a fight a few nights before over Percy. She had mentioned over dinner that she though he would be promoted to a principal by the end of the summer, and Luke had gone quiet, ignoring her for the rest of the meal. She knew what he was waiting for: an apology for upsetting him.

She hated doing that. When she was younger, the apologies came easier. She found herself apologizing for crying when he yelled at her.

“I made me cry,” she had once told him, “I knew that doing that would upset you.” She had gone to Reyna’s apartment for an all-soloists party without Luke, who, as a principal, hadn’t been invited. He had asked her not to go at all, claiming he didn’t trust other guys to behave around her. She assured him that she could handle herself. A few drinks later, it was just her, Reyna, Piper, and a few others left, all getting ready to just crash on couches, air mattresses, or beds. When she called him to tell him, he yelled at her until she was crying in Reyna’s bathroom. If Reyna had known why she was crying, Annabeth was sure she would have advised breaking up with him on the spot, but, instead, Annabeth faked a panic attack and used that as an escape.

Because she loved him. So much of the time she loved him, and their relationship was fun, and passionate, and loving. Eighty percent of the time, he was the perfect guy.

And twenty percent of the time, he sat quietly through dinner, waiting for an apology for something so minor. When she was about twenty, she learned that it was easier to just offer the apology and move on.

“Sorry.” She said to him finally.

“I don’t know why you do that.” He said. “You know it upsets me.” Luke said, not looking at her.

“He’s just my dance partner.” She protested.

“Well, you sure do think a lot of him.”

“I think that he’s talented, yes.”

He looked up at her. The hanging light fixture over their kitchen table reflected in his eyes, making them almost look gold instead of blue. Annabeth sat up straighter, ready for a fight if there was going to be one.

Instead, he stood up, plate in one hand, and dropped the dish in the sink, before heading towards the door. “I’m going out.” He told her.

When the door slammed behind her, she let out a deep breath, sinking into her seat, trying desperately not to cry. Not for him, not again. After a moment, she stood up and went to the sink to clean up. Luke’s plate was broken in the sink, cracked into three larger ceramic pieces, with little shards decorating the rest of the basin. Annabeth took a deep breath again, and place her own plate over the broken one, resolving to clean it up later.

She hadn’t expected this from Luke though. To show someone something so private and without much reason. For what? To make Percy jealous? Beckendorf jealous?

She knew the answer had nothing to do with either of them. There were truths about her relationship with Luke that were crystal clear if she thought about them for long enough, but they were terrifying to deal with.

She loved him, and they were great together so much of the time. He had promised her that they would be together and be a family. She hadn’t wanted to get married so young, but they had been together for years. When he proposed he had promised her all of that: family, security, permanence. Everything.

It was so easy to believe that promise was unconditional. But she had seen the patterns for years. He didn’t trust her, he took credit for most milestones in her career, and he certainly didn’t like moments when she soared above him. He had been on edge since she became a principal, constantly worried that she would outshine him. “I’m afraid you’ll get too good,” he had said jokingly soon after he had proposed, “and then you’ll leave me.”

It was an irrational fear – he was a great dancer, and so often male choreography existed to make the female dancer look stunning as he blends into the background.

He was never good at blending, though. He had to be the center of his own career and hers. Hell, most people in the company already resented her because they thought she had slept her way to the top, and she knew those rumors started with him. And now …

And now.

She looked up when she felt Silena’s hand on her shoulder. She offered her a tissue.

“Are you going to be okay?” Silena asked.

Annabeth shook her head, not quite sure how to respond.

“I just didn’t think he hated me this much.” She said after a moment.

“Oh honey,” Silena said, pulling her into a hug as she kept crying. Silena didn’t try to convince her that he didn’t hate her, or that he had just made a mistake. She just held her and let her cry.

After a moment, Annabeth sat back up, and found herself talking in circles about her relationship with Luke; Silena and Beckendorf’s faces became more upset and angrier as the stories piled up.

Finally, Annabeth paused to drink her tea. Silena sat back on her heals and told her, “You can’t marry him.”

Annabeth sat up straighter, mug still in her hand. “Please don’t tell me what to do.”

Silena nodded. “I’m sorry, but …” Annabeth could see her searching for the right thing to say.

“If he hurts you like this now,” Beckendorf said, “it’s probably only going to get worse when you’re married.”

“It’s not like he’s ever hit me.” Annabeth said, putting her mug back on the table. That was true; he’d never even come close.

“But he controls you,” Silena said, “and he undermines you, and he violates your privacy. That’s not any better.”

Annabeth took a shaky breath. “I just … I don’t know what I would do without him.”

“Anything,” Beckendorf said, “you could do anything without him.”

“But we’ve been together for so long,” she said, “and I love him so much. So much of the time it’s so good.”

“Is it so good?” Silena asked. “Or do you spend that eighty percent of the time self-censoring to keep him happy? Do you spend that time waiting for the next time he gets mad at you?”

Annabeth hung her head and began to sob again. I can’t marry him, she thought for the first time. She had had doubts before, but she figured every bride had doubts. But Silena’s question had broken through walls in her mind that kept those doubts out. Was she happy? I can’t marry him.

“I just don’t want to be alone.” She admitted, still crying.

“Honey,” Silena said, “as long as we’re alive, you’re never on your own.”

Annabeth looked up and leaned forward quickly, pulling Silena in.

“I know you’ve been together for six years –“ Beckendorf started. Annabeth didn’t let him finish his sentence.

She took a deep breath, and before she could remember to be afraid, she told him: “It’ll be ten years this December.”

Silena pulled away from the hug and looked at her. “Aren’t you twenty-five?”

Annabeth nodded. “We went on our first date after my first Nutcracker season as an apprentice.”

Silena gasped and leaned on the coffee table for support. Beckendorf just muttered, “Jesus Christ,” to himself.

Silena looked more shocked than Annabeth had seen her in the entire conversation. “You could really sue him for this.” She said.

Annabeth hadn’t thought of that. Of course, she had known that their age gap was inappropriate and illegal, but it had never occurred to her to press charges over it (especially not considering she was planning on marrying him). “I don’t know,” Annabeth said. “I don’t even know what to do about right now.”

“Are you going to break up with him?” Silena asked.

I can’t marry him, she thought again, but the words wouldn’t leave her mouth. “I don’t know. I mean, an hour ago I was happily engaged, and now I don’t know what I am. It’s all just a lot, and I want to talk to him about everything and just … get things sorted out.”

Silena nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was cut off by the door opening.

Annabeth’s eyes met Luke’s, before he scanned the rest of the apartment, shooting accusatory looks at Beckendorf and Silena. Beckendorf stood up, staring at Luke before asking Annabeth, “Do you want us to stay?”

“No,” Annabeth said, “you guys can leave.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Silena asked. Annabeth nodded, and she hoped that was true.

*****

When the door closed behind them, Luke turned to her, his eyes calm. “What were they up to?”

Annabeth looked at him in disbelief. “You really have no idea why they were here?”

Luke ignored her puffy eyes and runny nose and sat on the couch. “What did they tell you?”

“So, you do know?” Annabeth asked. She stared him down, waiting for him to admit to what he’d done.

“I don’t understand why you’re upset.” He said to her.

She almost laughed at him she was so angry. “Are you kidding?” She asked. “You violated my privacy, you exposed me to another dancer!”

“You’re mad at me because I love you? Because I think you’re beautiful, and I want to show you off?” He asked, moving closer to her.

Annabeth stood up from the chair and walked away from him. “That’s not what you did, and you know it.” He didn’t look guilty or remorseful. He just stared at her like she was the one in the wrong, like she was crazy for not seeing the situation from his point of view. His indifference felt violent. “We were going to be a family, Luke.” She said, her voice quivering. “You promised.”

She walked towards the kitchen, unable to look at him.

“We are going to be a family.” He said.

Annabeth sobbed again. She leaned on the sink, afraid she might throw up, but instead the words she had so far been too afraid to say left her mouth.

“I’m not going to marry you.” She said into the sink.

“What?” He asked, standing up to walk into the kitchen.

“I’m not going to marry you.” She repeated, turning around to face him. “I can’t believe you would hurt me like this.” That was a lie; he had hurt her like this before, just never in this way.

“Annabeth –” He tried to reach out to her, but she dodged him.

“Don’t touch me.” She said.

“You wanted to be a family. And we will be if you don’t throw that away over something so stupid -”

Annabeth cut him off by throwing her engagement ring at him. When that hit didn’t satisfy her, she picked up the vase of roses on the table, and raised it over her head, letting the flowers and water splash on the floor. When she moved to throw it, Luke flinched. She paused before putting the vase back on the counter. She took a deep breath, overwhelmed by her own anger. They started at each other for a moment. He felt like a stranger to her.

“I want you to get your shit and move out.” She told him.

“You can’t just kick me out.” He protested.

“Oh yes I can, your name’s not on the lease.” She told him.

Luke bent down to pick up the thrown engagement ring. “No,” he said, “but is yours? Or is it your daddy’s name?” He asked. He pressed his body close to hers. This time, Annabeth didn’t move; she stood frozen, half with fear and half with pride. She felt his left hand wrap around the curls at the base of her neck; his right hand held her left hand. From a distance, their position may have seemed romantic, but Annabeth felt vulnerable in his grasp.

She tried to look him in the eyes, but she was met with a cruel look she could barely stand. She stood still, not wanting to make him angrier than he already was.

“You wouldn’t have anything without him or me, Annie.” He told her. Annabeth shook her head as much as she could with his grip still in her hair. That’s not true, she wanted to tell him, I know that’s not true, but she couldn’t find the words. “And he doesn’t love you, not really.” Annabeth started to cry again. “You’d be alone without me.” He said again. She sobbed, resisting the urge to lean against him for comfort as always had.

He dropped the hand from her neck. The ring had been clenched against his palm, leaving an indent in his skin. He took her left hand. “So let’s put this ring back on.”

She clenched her fist, resisting it. “No!” She said, stepping back from him before he could grab her again. Her sock met the puddle the flowers had made, and she slipped backwards, crushing the roses under her weight.

Luke leered over her. He looked like he might spit on her or kick her, but he just frowned and shook his head as he slipped her engagement ring into his pants a pocket.

“You’ve never been less attractive,” he told her, before walking towards their bedroom

Annabeth sat motionless in the puddle of flowers, watching him move through their bedroom, gathering street clothes and dancewear. Annabeth couldn’t be sure of how long he’d been in there, but he emerged eventually with a suitcase and a dance bag.

“The wedding is off,” he said to her, as if it had been his idea, “until you can get your act together.”

When the door slammed behind him, Annabeth curled up on the floor and sobbed, gripping the roses in her fist. She crushed them until the petals stained her fingertips and the thorns cut her palms.

~~~~~

Part Two: Sparkling Diamonds

“He’s your guy when sparks are high, but beware when they start to descend / Diamonds are a girl’s best friend”

Silena and Beckendorf hadn’t been far away, reluctant to leave her alone, despite her protests. Once Luke left, they came back, collected her, and brought them to their apartment for the night. Annabeth was grateful for them. She didn’t like burdening people, but they were right. She hadn’t wanted to spend the night alone.

She woke up in the morning to the sound of a blender. Their ‘guest room’ was a futon in the living room near the kitchen. It had been a surprisingly comfortable bed, which Annabeth was grateful for.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” Beckendorf said, pouring the fruit mix into two glasses and offering one to her.

“Thanks.” Annabeth said, taking the glass. “What time is it?”

“Seven.” he said. “Class starts in a few hours, then dress rehearsal, but I’m sure Chiron will understand if you don’t want to –”

Annabeth shook her head. “There’s no reason for me not to dance today or in the performance. I’m not sick, I’m not injured, I’m doing it.” Luke had tried to take so much from her, and she wouldn’t let him take dance.

Beckendorf could tell that there wasn’t any use arguing with her.

Annabeth stood in the wings, taking deep breaths as she watched Luke at the barre. She picked a spot on the stage as far away from him as she could find, avoiding his looks, and trying to look as though the past night’s events had no effect on her.

Class helped her refocus. It was a methodical focus on technique and control, and that’s what she needed in that moment: control.

Dance had always been her escape. It was what she did or where she went when she felt like there was no one on her side. It didn’t matter that Luke was in the company with her, she tried to tell herself, or that other people in the company had seen photos of her, what mattered was dance.

Have other people seen the photos, she thought suddenly. She hadn’t asked Luke, but if he showed them so casually to Beckendorf …

She tried to put the thought out of her mind, trying to convince herself that if someone else had seen them, they would have told her. But Luke did have a lot of friends in the company … She snapped herself out of the thought spiral, returning her attention to the ballet master’s next combination.

She wished Luke looked worse. She wished he looked like he had been crying all night, or like he had been betrayed, or like he felt guilty, but he didn’t look like that at all. He just looked like any of the other dancers. Annabeth tore her eyes away from him, refocusing on the combinations, trying to keep Luke as far from her mind as she could.

Annabeth took a deep breath as she stood in front of her dressing room mirror. Her costume glittered with crystals and rhinestones. Even her tights were white to match the tutu and bodice; her pointe shoes had been spray-painted to match. Carefully, she pinned a bejeweled hairpiece to her bun, the final bit on bling on her costume.

“Looking good,” Piper said. Piper was the Diamonds lead in the second cast, and her dressing room roommate. Second cast rehearsed after the first, so Piper was still lounging in her normal dancewear.

“Thanks,” Annabeth said, trying to steady her breathing. She had run to her dressing room quickly after class to avoid as many people as she could, but there was no avoiding Piper.

Piper had spotted that something was wrong from when they had first gotten into the dressing room. “Are you okay?” She asked Annabeth.

Annabeth shook her head as she peeled off her warmups and took down her hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Piper asked.

Annabeth thought for a moment before shaking her head. If she tried to talk about it, she worried she would break, and she didn’t have time for that. She just wanted to relax, enjoy a small lunch, and go out and run the ballet. “No.”

“Okay,” Piper said. “But I’m here if you need me.”

Annabeth nodded. “Thanks.”

Before every show, Annabeth had a recurring nightmare. They were always the same: the orchestra played her cue, she ran out on stage, slipped, and fell on her face. She would get up, and try to continue, but she couldn’t remember the choreography, or she’d do the choreography to the wrong dance. Last night, Annabeth had dreamt that she went out on stage, met the corps and Percy, all in their gilded white costumes, only she was in her red costume from Don Quixote, and she could only remember the steps to Kitri’s act one variation.

She looked down at her costume. It was definitely white. She did a few steps, confirming for herself that she did remember them.

The curtain fell at the end of Rubies, and Annabeth tried to hide herself in the shadows as much as she could as Luke left the stage, but he found her.

“Good luck.” He said smiling. To anyone else, it seemed sweet; to her, it felt deeply insidious.

She tried to smile back, but she felt her stomach churn looking at him, so she just looked away towards the stage as the corps took their place.

He barely moved away from her, taking a spot in the wings where he could see. He’s going to watch, Annabeth realized. That’s okay, she tried to tell herself. He’s just a company member. He wants to watch. He’s allowed to.

After a few minutes, the corps left the stage, and the music for the pas de deux began. Percy entered the stage from downstage left, and she entered from upstage right. They moved slowly to meet each other in the middle. For a moment, all her nerves melted away. She was doing the thing she was best at, and nothing could get in her way.

The dance was slow and elegant, and she and Percy worked well together as partners. She didn’t have to think about anything during the dance. She found peace for a moment as her body moved through the music.

She took his hand and dropped down into a penche, a standing split, one leg going straight up in the air as her body dropped forward, supported by him. Her gaze drifted past Percy though, into the wings, where Luke was still watching. She saw him whisper something to one of the young corps girls, who put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Annabeth’s heart rate rose as she lifted out of the penche, turning around to move on with the dance. On the other side of the stage, she saw the Stoll brothers, good character dancers, but also good friends of Luke. They were looking at something on a phone, smiling and not paying attention to the dance. They’re looking at the photos, her anxiety told her. They’ve seen them. How many people do you think have seen them?

She turned back to Percy; her movements less precise as she began to spiral. He could tell something was wrong, and tried to help her through, holding onto her tighter when he could to help her stay steady. He’s probably seen them, she thought. He knows. They all know.

She stopped.

She stood flat on the stage as her heart rate rose. Out in the audience, she heard Chiron call for the orchestra to pause, but his voice sounded far away.

“Annabeth? Are you …” Percy started.

She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, I can’t do this.” She said to him. She didn’t recognize her own voice or what she was saying. She looked at Luke one more time. He was smiling.

Annabeth turned and tore off stage in the other direction.

Her dressing room door was opened for her, and she tore inside. She was met by Piper who pulled her into a hug. “I was watching on the monitors.” Piper said, squeezing Annabeth close. “What happened?”

Annabeth sobbed into Piper’s shoulder, holding onto her to keep herself from collapsing, making no effort to explain. Piper didn’t push her to, she just held her until Chiron knocked on their door.

“Annabeth, can I speak with you?” He asked through the door.

Annabeth pulled away from Piper, grabbing tissues to wipes her eyes and nose. “Yes, can I get changed quickly?”

“Of course,” he said, “meet me in my office.”

Annabeth looked at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was running, and her eyes were red, but her hair and costume were still pristine. She took a deep breath and grabbed a makeup wipe, removing all traces of the streaked makeup.

She knew before entering Chiron’s office that she wasn’t going get through the conversation without crying. If he was merciful, she’d still have a job at the end of it.

When she walked into his office, he asked her to sit, looking at her with a removed sympathetic look.

“What happened out there?” He asked her.

Annabeth began to cry despite her best efforts not to. She had hoped she’d make it longer than four seconds.

The story of the night before came spilling out of her. Chiron listened silently, his eyes going wide with shock at some of the details. She finally mustered up all the courage she had and told him: “We’ve been together since I was an apprentice.”

He sat up straighter in his chair. “Well, this is all incredibly unacceptable,” he said.

Annabeth could tell that he didn’t know what else to say to her.

She had spent all morning trying to convince herself that Luke wouldn’t be a distraction. That dancers date all the time and break up. They keep going, why couldn’t she? But she knew it was different. He had a hold on her that he wouldn’t let go of easily.

She took a deep breath and admitted: “I don’t think I can keep dancing here as long as he’s here.” She started to cry again. The idea of losing City Ballet was a nightmare. Losing it because of Luke, though, was never something she expected. But it wasn’t a nightmare at this point, it was a reality she was living.

“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want to lose you, especially considering the circumstances,” Chiron said. “Let me work on keeping you here.” He said. She wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, though. “Do you know what your next step will be?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t … I haven’t had much time to think about all of this. I just …”

“Why don’t you take some time off?” Chiron suggested. Annabeth looked at him, her heart racing. Other than a few injuries, she had never just taken time off before. “If you think that would help.” He added. “I’ve watched your career since you joined the school at fourteen. I want to see you dance here, but I also want to see you heal.”

She thought for a moment before nodding. “I think a break would help.” She admitted. “I hate to do that though.”

“Take your time,” Chiron said. “The ballet will be here when you come back.”

“Will Luke?” She asked.

“Not if I can help it.” Chiron said. Annabeth let out a deep breath and almost smiled.

“I don’t want this to be huge news in the company, though. I’m sure there will be rumors but –”

“We will do what we can,” Chiron promised her. “Do you have someone to stay with?” He asked. Annabeth nodded, hoping Silena and Beckendorf didn’t mind if she crashed at their place for another few nights. “Great,” he said. “Keep me posted on your situation. And if you pass Piper, tell her she’ll be dancing Diamonds with Percy first cast. Katie will take Piper’s second cast spot.”

Annabeth nodded, and headed out of the office.

When she stepped into the hall, she was met by Percy, still in costume and looking worried. “Hey,” he said, walking up to her, “are you okay?”

Annabeth didn’t know Percy that well, but they had been in the company together for years. This was the first time they had partnered together though, and they had started to become closer. She still didn’t know much about him except that he was kind and funny (and he had eyes so green it should be illegal.)

She was almost overwhelmed that he cared about her enough to wait outside the office to check on her. Luke, she noticed, was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll be okay,” she told him, hoping that was true. “I’m so sorry.” She added.

“Don’t worry about it. Do you need anything?” He asked.

She shook her head. “Thank you. I’m not going to be performing, though. I’m taking a break for a bit.”

He looked shocked, but he was too polite to ask any questions. “Good luck,” he said. “And really, please let me know if you need anything.”

Annabeth nodded and headed back to her dressing room to pack her things and tell Piper that she’d been promoted to first cast.

~*~*~

Present Day

“So, I left, stayed with Beckendorf and Silena for a few days while Luke moved out. A month or so later, I went down to Virginia until December,” she finished telling Percy.

They were sitting on her couch facing each other. She had tucked her knees up to her chest, closing herself off as she told the story. She had asked Percy to come to her apartment during the phone call, sending him an Uber. When she opened the door for him, she nearly collapsed against his chest, pulling him in for a hug. Percy hugged her back, holding her tightly. He felt grateful that she still trusted him enough to be close to him.

As she told him her story, he wanted to pull her in close, but she kept to one side of the couch, hardly looking at him as she recalled some of the more painful details.

Percy hadn’t felt this angry in a long time. He had known men like Luke before, he had lived with one for too long, and he didn’t like the idea of anyone having to put up with that, and certainly not for a decade. Certainly not still.

“Fuck him for doing that to you.” Percy said finally. He tried to conceal his rage; he knew it wouldn’t necessarily be the most helpful thing to add to the conversation.

Annabeth took a deep breath. “He’s the worst, and I can’t believe how much time I wasted with him.”

Percy moved closer to her, just close enough the rest his hand on hers for comfort.

“Did you ever end up pressing charges or anything?” He asked.

Annabeth shook her head. “I tried. It seemed like the right thing to do. I met with a lawyer and it was … awful. It was just hours of traumatizing questions of whether or not we had evidence or foundation. It wasn’t helping me get better. There was one moment where I realized that I if I had to sit on the stand, I’d be more likely to throw up or have a panic attack, rather than offering any evidence to help my case.

“So eventually, I sat down and thought about what I actually wanted. And I wanted to heal, which wouldn’t happen as long as this process was on going. I wanted him out of City Ballet, which Chiron was already working on, and I wanted him out of my life, and to get rid of the photos. So, we settled between the two of us. He’d leave the ballet and move to Portland to work for his dad, which he did, and he even let me delete the photos of his phone myself.” She let out a grim laugh. “Should have figured he had them somewhere else.”

She took a deep breath and continued. “But, anyway, he left, and I hadn’t heard from him until today.”

“Do you think you’ll go forward with something now?” Percy asked. “Because I’m sure Mr. Gmail could get that email back if you –”

Annabeth shook her head. “Probably not. I mean, maybe? I don’t know. I’ll probably call him at some point and ask about today, but I still don’t think I’m ready for any legal process.”

“Don’t you want him to face consequences?” Percy asked. Percy thought back to Gabe, and how many times he wished that his mom would divorce him, or that a school councilor would notice that Percy was bruised. That someone would do something to get him out of his and his mom’s lives. None of that ever happened. The happiest day of Percy’s life was when they’d found Gabe in the Hudson – some unsettled poker debt and a bar fight. His mom had never let him know all the details, but Percy always figured that his body must have been even more bloated and smelly after a few days in the river. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want something similar for Luke, instead of him just walking away to a different life.

“I wanted to hurt him,” she admitted. “When I held up that vase, I wanted to hurt him, to make him bleed, to make him vulnerable. But more than that, I wanted to keep my career, to keep my life.”

“Do you think your career would be ruined by exposing him? You’ve already got Chiron on your side.”

“No,” She told him. She paused for a minute, thinking about what to say.

“You know, the day after he moved out, Jewels opened,” she said. “I went and sat all the way in the back. Chiron had pulled Luke from “Rubies,” but Jason was dancing in his place. From all the way in the back, he looked like him. But that didn’t bother me. I felt nothing. The thought of him being on that stage didn’t make me angry, and the thought of him never dancing on it again didn’t make me happy. But then “Diamonds” started. And I saw you, up on stage with Piper, and I just started to cry. Because I didn’t know if I’d ever be on that stage again.

“I left New York a few days later, and I spent months with therapists, and old dance teachers, and my journal, and Greys Anatomy reruns, just trying to figure out what do, and …” She trailed off and stared at her hands as she took a deep breath. Finally, she looked back at Percy. “I’m just trying to do what’ll make me happy, and, right now, pressing charges won’t do that, I don’t think.”

Percy didn’t say anything. She started to cry again, and he handed her a tissue and her glass of water, offering a short pause before she continued.

“We were engaged. I told him I wanted to marry him! We were a month away from the wedding. I had a dress! Have a dress; it’s still in my closet.” She looked over towards her room, her gaze distant.

“I know we like to think we live in some liberal utopia, but how many judges will look at this case – look at me – and think I’m just some vindictive would-be bride who got dumped? I have no evidence of our relationship before I was 18, and even then, it’s slim. Most people think we started dating when I was 20! It’s just my word against his.” Percy wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that there would be judges who would take her seriously. Or lawyers who would encourage him to settle, getting her a restraining order or something. But he knew Annabeth was smart; if she didn’t think that was possible or good for her, she wouldn’t do it.

She shook her head, looking down again, blonde curls a curtain covering her face. “And for what? Maybe he’ll face consequences if put before the right judge, but what are the consequences for me? I have to sit in front of a room of people I don’t know and tell this story again? Ask them to believe me?” She sobbed again.

“I never even told my dad what happened. What? Am I supposed to sit in court and say, ‘Sorry dad, you trusted me to go off to New York and I got taken advantage of for a decade in the apartment you pay for? Now watch some lawyer hold up nude photos of me?” She laughed and sobbed at the same time before continuing. “No. I can’t do that.” She took a deep breath and took a sip of water before continuing.

“Percy, I’m so embarrassed. I’ve spent the last few months trying to understand that I was taken advantage of, and harmed, and that it all wasn’t my fault, but … I lived with him for five years. I believed him when he told me he loved me. And not just when I was sixteen. I believed him when I was twenty-five. For ten years, I thought he loved me. And I’ve never been so wrong about something, and I am so embarrassed. I have a fucking wedding dress in my closet and –” she cut herself off with her own sobs, taking a few more tissues from Percy, who just rested a comforting hand on her leg as she cried.

She caught her breath after a moment. “I don’t want people in the company to know what happened. Going to trial would just mean everyone finding out. I don’t want rumors that I’ve slept my way to the top to get worse. I don’t want people to judge me, or pity me, or hate me. I don’t want people to know the photos exists, because they’ll just go looking for them. I just … I can’t give up what I have right now for a trial that might result in nothing.” She took a deep breath. “I know it might not be the right thing to do. It’s not the brave thing. But it’s what will make me happy right now.”

Percy nodded. It didn’t matter what he wanted to do to Luke, or what he felt he deserved, he reminded himself. He was at Annabeth’s apartment to comfort her, not to try and tell her what to do.

“You know, I danced the Sugar Plum Fairy when I was seventeen?” She said. Percy nodded, he had heard that story before, but he didn’t know why she was telling it. “I was in the morning class,” she continued, “before the matinee. I was going on that night as snowflake and flower. Right before class started, Chiron came up to me and told me that whoever was dancing it that night was out. I don’t even remember who I replaced, but he told me that I was going to do it. I had about four hours to learn it, get in a costume, and get on stage. And I remember Lee Fletcher was my cavalier.” Percy knew Lee, of course, he was one of the oldest dancers in the company. He had retired two years ago, but he still came back for the Nutcracker to play Drosselmeyer. He was possibly one of the kindest people Percy had met at City Ballet besides Beckendorf.

“So, Lee and I go into a studio and just start running the dance over and over with a ballet master. Then I got into a costume and waited for act two to start. While I was waiting, I remember him coming up to me and saying ‘Don’t worry. If you forget the steps, just make it up. If you forget the steps to the pas de deux, just make it up, and I’ll follow your lead.’ And I could tell that he was kind of joking to lighten the mood, but also very serious, and that was exactly what I needed to hear. But, anyway, I went out for the solo, it went great. We did the pas de deux later, it went great, and I felt like I was on top of the world. I had debuted at Sugar Plum at seventeen.” She smiled. “And then I went backstage, and one of the ballet masters just said, ‘great job Annabeth. Go bring that costume back to the shop, we need you as a party guest, a snowflake, and a flower tonight.’ And that was it. I had my moment, and it was over as quickly as it had been given to me.

“And then, this November, I agreed to do some guesting performances at my youth company. I would be their Sugar Plum for their Nutcracker performances for the first two weeks of December, and then I would move back to New York right before Christmas. And then Chiron called me and asked if I was coming back for Nutcracker. I told him I’d be back in the city on December 20th, and that was planning on doing the Spring season shows, but not Nutcracker. And he said ‘December 20th? Can I put you in for shows after then?’”

“And I just said ‘yes, of course.’ I didn’t realize until I said that how much I wanted to be back. He put me in for three shows, all with Beckendorf. The first one was December 23rd, and I was standing in the wings, waiting to go on. I felt so nervous and so calm at the same time. Then Lee came up behind me, and he was all dressed up as Drosselmeyer, and he said ‘remember, if you forget the steps, just make them up.’” Her voice caught, and she started to cry again, but she spoke through it. “Then he hugged me and told me that he was glad I was back.

“I thought no one remembered that day. It had all happened so quickly. No one was in the audience to support me. I didn’t even have time to call my friends or family to let them know it was happening, and it was over so fast. But for him to come up to me nine years later and show that he remembered that day, and that he knew how important it was to me it just … it meant to world to me. And I knew that this was where I wanted to be and dance for the rest of my career.

“And I just want Sleeping Beauty to be perfect, because I want people to know that I am back, I’m not going anywhere, and that I’ve worked hard and I’m good, and I’m not giving that up.” She paused and took his hand. “And I know you understand that.” Percy nodded. He did understand. The two of them had come from incredibly different trainings and upbringings, but somehow, they had both landed in similar situations. They were leading a ballet together, and half the company thought she wasn’t qualified to do it, and the other half thought he wasn’t qualified. But they were all wrong, and they would show them.

She squeezed his hand but kept holding on. “Today, when I was in costume and on stage again, I felt so strong. I was balanced on two tows, and I felt like nothing in the world could knock me over. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way.” She smiled faintly, looking up at Percy. “I just want to keep feeling that way for right now.”

Percy nodded and smiled. “It’s your decision, and I won’t try and push you in any other direction,” he promised. “But I’m by your side no matter what.”

“Thank you, that means a lot.”

Percy took a deep breath. “I do kind of understand what you’re going through.”

He ended up telling her most of the details he remembered about Gabe. Their ‘guys secret’ where Percy gave him poker money or else Gabe would punch his lights out. His yelling, his smell, and the day Percy realized he hadn’t been the only one being hurt by Gabe. Annabeth kept holding his hand as he talked through the story, offering him comforting squeezes when it became too much.

“Then one day, he turned up dead in the river, and it seemed like all of our problems were over.” He said. “My mom and I were suspects for a little while, but they eventually figured out it was some gambling dispute turned bar fight.”

“Who knew that of all the things, this is something we’d have in common?” Annabeth joked. Percy laughed for the first time that evening.

Percy only noticed how long they had been holding hands when Annabeth let go of his. She turned her body to face foreword, putting her feet on the ground for the first time in hours. “Anyway, I hate to ask you this,” Annabeth said, “but would you be willing to stay here tonight? Just in case he tries to come around or something? If not, I can call Silena, I’m sure –”

“Annabeth,” Percy said, “of course I’ll stay.”

She let out a deep breath and smiled. “Thanks. You can take the bed.” She said.

“Absolutely not. I’ll be fine on the couch. I’m not taking your bed away from you.”

“No, seriously, I’ll be fine. Besides, this is a pull-out couch.” She said, patting the couch cushions.

“That might be worse.” He said.

She stood up and stretched. “How about we settle this later, and for the time being, we pop on a movie? I can make popcorn.”

“That would be fantastic.” Percy said. They didn’t have a rehearsal the next two days, so they could afford to stay up a little late. They both needed to unwind.

“I have Netflix. I used to have more DVDs, but Luke took most of them when he moved out. All he left were Moulin Rouge and the behind the scenes footage for the Lord of the Rings movies.” She said, walking towards the kitchen.

“Wow, what a psycho.” Percy said.

“He took Psycho too.” She added. Percy laughed, before standing up.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Wanna melt the butter?”

A few minutes later, they were sitting on Annabeth’s couch, under the same blanket with a bowl of popcorn in between them, as Baz Luhrmann’s colorful early 2000s masterpiece started. Musicals weren’t Percy’s favorite genre (although he was always partial to Ewan McGregor), but he understood them. They were like ballet. Musicals and ballets were things that your logic understood, but your emotions did. And Annabeth had a number of emotional reactions to the film.

By “El Tango De Roxanne,” they had finished the bowl of popcorn, setting it on the table, and she had taken his hand, gripping it with anticipation as the scene went on.

Percy worried about their movie choice the Duke ripped the diamond necklace from Satine’s neck, before stripping her and abusing her, but Annabeth kept her eyes forward as the music swelled. “You made me believe that you loved me,” The Duke said to Staine. Annabeth didn’t move, but Percy squeezed her hand as the Duke tore at Satine’s clothes. She didn’t move until Satine’s death; Percy watched her quickly wipe tears from her face.

“Luke always hated this movie.” She said. “Probably why he left it.”

Percy could figure out that a movie that punishes jealousy in love would make Luke squirm. He wanted to ask what Luke had against the behind the scenes footage of The Lord of the Rings, but it didn’t seem like the appropriate time.

When the credits rolled, Annabeth wiped her eyes quickly, before standing up to take the popcorn bowl to the kitchen.

“So,” she said, “you’re taking the bed?”

“Absolutely not,” Percy said back, “you’ve had a very long day, and it’s your bed. You’re taking it.”

“You are my guest and an absolute saint for listening to me for hours and hours.” She walked back to the couch and poked him in the chest. “You are taking it.”

Percy laid down on the couch. “Nope, I’m just fine right here.”

Annabeth groaned. “You know what? It’s a king-sized bed, why don’t we each just pick a side?” Her face was a little red, but that might have just been from crying.

Percy nodded, trying to seem casual. They had done plenty of intimate things on stage, but that was their job. Sharing a bed platonically felt like a new level of intimacy unmatched by any ballet moves or stage kisses. “Alright, but you’re picking which side first.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “If you need something to change into, I might have something.” She offered.

Percy looked down at his sweatpants and tee shirt. Usually, he just slept in his boxers, but that wouldn’t do for tonight. “I’ll be alright in this.” He promised.

They took turns in the bathroom, and Annabeth found him an extra toothbrush to use, which he was grateful for. He texted his mom, briefly explaining the situation to her. Sally had texted back: “Thank you for staying with her, I’m sure she appreciates it. Be safe.”

“It’s not like that.” He texted back. She just sent back the shrug emoji and a blue heart.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, Annabeth was already in her pajamas – just a plain black tee shirt and flannel pants. She had gotten under the covers on the side near the window.

Percy almost smiled getting into bed with her, but he held back, not wanting to make anything weird. It was weird enough being in Annabeth’s bedroom at all. Most of her furniture was white, and her shelves and dressers were decorated in photos of her dancing, trophies, and a few old pairs of pointe shoes that she had written the date on and the name of a show. Before she turned the light off, Percy noticed a pair hanging by their ribbons over the nightstand on his side. They were particularly faded with age, and the ribbons were fraying. “The Nutcracker, 12/6/2011” they said. Percy smiled.

“Thanks again for staying.” Annabeth said, already rolled over away from him.

“Of course.”

She reached over to the lamp on her nightstand and clicked it off, leaving them alone in the dark.

~*~*~*~*

A/N: Sorry this became so thematically tied to Moulin Rouge. It wasn’t that way about five hours ago. Damn you Baz and you’re wonderfully stylized musical.

Jewels: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9Z2-0GVvIE&t=4374s (skip to 59:31 for the pas de deux) Kitri act one variation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOvXo841L1o Sugar Plum Fairy solo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pKwCEfGRDU Sugar Plum pas de deux: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qy6dlGpC3Ns (this is not the NYCB choreography, but you get the point) El Tango De Roxanne: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rn0xXo1gwGY

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #charles beckendorf #silena beauregard #luke castellan #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #once upon a pointe #Piper McLean

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judgement-free-sideblog · 5 years ago

Text

Dancing lessons.

Barry Berkman x reader

Hi there! So I was watching Friends yesterday and I came across the one where Joey speaks french, and then I was thinking about how in season 2 Barry already has his Headshots, and I wanted to write something about a false ability he could have put on his resume.

So this will be an 8 part series, and I will try to update it at least twice a week but can't promise anything.

Summary: Barry is finally cast in a feature, the problem? He said he could dance and now he can either disappoint Sally or found a way to learn some steps.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating maybe.

Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4 ● Part 5 ● Part 6 ● Part 7 ● Part 8 ● Epilogue

Part 1

A sharpie written ad in the door said: "Joe's friend callbacks" that could give him an idea of how unimportant this character was, because so far he didn't even had a name, nevertheless he was happy that they had call him back for a reason other than "You look good on the poster"

Although he was suspicious the "minor" changes Natalie and Sally had convinced him to do to his resume was the reason, he could not blame them, at first the page was empty and depressing, and now he appear to be a very compelling person, maybe someone he would like to be. Someone who could speak french and Italian, and had formal training in at least three styles of dancing, tango, salsa and tap.

Worst case scenario, they had said, there is someone better than you first and is just another bad audition. And so far it hasn't been a problem, people usually overlook that because they didn't need that on their movies.

But now it was different, there was at least three men in front of him and four behind all of them more or less his height and complexion, waiting to re read the lines for the upcoming movie, a place to dare dreaming. As far as he understood it was a drama about a men seeking meaning in life, and Barry was trying to be the best friend's best friend, he would have five scenes in the whole movie and was merely an excuse to make exposition questions and be gone for the rest of the movie.

Not a bad place to start, Sally said, and he might actually make connections and even find an agent. So he was there for some reason dressed with black loose pants and a loose blue shirt, just like the rest of them. Finally after another half hour or so the casting assistant exited the door and call for him.

"Hi, I'm Barry Block, reading for Joe's friend" He said looking at the people behind the table and he notice another woman there dressed as a ballerina, he was not entirely sure why.

"Fine, in this scene you are just finishing dancing with your partner, then Joe" The director point at a man who was already cast as the lead best friend "Yeah, Joe will call you to ask you something and then the scene starts"

Barry did as he was told, and when he was in the middle of telling Joe to go help the lead build the boat of his dreams or something like that the director interrupted him.

"Just one sec, Barry was it?" He said and Barry was already feeling the whole you are not what we are looking for speech coming. "It says here that you dance?"

"Um hum" He muttered every second more disconcerted.

"Tango? Janice you do tango right?" He asked the ballerina.

"No Andre, I only have a career in dance but I don't do tango" She said rolling her eyes "Of course I do" she and when the director look at her in exasperation.

"Then is settled, unless any of the other guys can dance we will go with Mr. Block here"

"Excuse me what?" Barry said a little lightheaded.

"Oh this scene, we originally wanted to have a big ballet dancing sequence that inspire Daniel, the lead to follow his dreams, but we scratched off because of the budget but since you can dance you and Janice can do a small version of it." Talk with Sophie on the way out we start on monday.

"Sure, thanks" he said with a calm voice and walked out to find the cast assistant.

"Mr. Block?" She said now a little more nice than when he entered in the morning. "You'll have to sing some documents and we will be ready"

"Sure, yeah fine, one question tho, what exactly does he mean Andre with me dancing with Janice?" He asked trying to sound casual

"Oh well since they are just adding the sequence I will say that they will tell you exactly what they want in a couple weeks and then you will have to rehearse with Janice and film it by the end of the next month" She said like it was no big deal.

"Two weeks?" He asked again and she could see that he was nervous.

"More or less, but I figure since you are an actual dancer that would be fine right?" He nod not very sure of her statement and she start looking in her purse and finally give him a card. "Look I won't tell you how to do your job, but if by any chance you are not convinced of what to do, you should go here, she may help you"

***

He shut the door of the apartment with enough strength to make one of the frames in the wall shake, of course he was furious. But it wasn't your fault and you wouldn't put up with his temperament. After 5 years of marriage Alan was finally beginning to understand that it was better to walk away and let things cool down before any of you could say something too painful.

And what could you say? You told him before you get married that you didn't want children and he married you anyway. He was not able to change your mind, that was no reason to scream and fight like that. You shake the thoughts from your head and pick up you bag, ready to walk down to the studio.

Your friend Sophie had made you a call earlier asking for your help with another lost case, and usually those pay well so you could surprise Alan with a nice dinner and maybe you would let him convince you to open up at the idea, at least for long enough to live peacefully.

You could tell who your new student was the minute you entered the studio, your assistant was talking with the other couples for the romantic dance lessons and he was in a corner looking at the door like he was planning an escape.

You take the attending list and seek for his name, Barry Block, you hope is not a sing of how hard will it be to make him move, but his large frame was telling you it will.

"Mr. Block?" You called him apart once you were dress in more comfortable clothes, he walked towards you and you could see he was at least 1 feet taller than you. "You work with Sophie right?"

"I do, I ... she said you could help me amm..."

"To make your dancing believable, yes, don't worry you are not the first nor the last actor that lies on an audition, but for future reference put something more achievable like learn Russian" You said part serious part kidding "Learning tango is complicated and demanding, is not just sexy dresses and fancy music, but since this is the land of dreams I can teach you a couple things"

"That would be great, and again I'm so embarrassed that this happened, but I need the job"

"Well that's another sad part of the story this class ain't cheap, and there's only so little I can do for you in three weeks"

"That's not a problem" He said immediately and took a little envelope from his pocket and gave it to you "This is for the first two lessons"

"Excellent, then we can start" You look at his clothes, jeans and a hoodie and very uncomfortable sneakers "You may need to change, and also stretch a little, we don't want accidents" you pointed to the dressing room and let him borrow a more lose pant and proper dancing shoes.

You finishes your lesson with the other couples and after and hour he, you and Macy your assistant were the only ones there.

"Ok for starters, that's not stretching" you told him once you saw he couldn't reach his toes. "Come sit here" You told him and sit in the middle of the floor with your legs completely extended and asked him to do the same.

"I'm not very use to this, I'm in shape as much as I can but this is different" He said awkwardly trying to reach his toes the way you did yours.

"If you don't mind me asking Mr. Block, why do you need the job?" You said standing up and helping him bend his back. "I don't think they will pay you more than I'm taking from you"

"Is not about the money" he said simply and took the hand you offered him to stand. "I need to prove myself I can be an actor, a real one, also my girlfriend is recording a show and I..." he star touching his hair distracted.

"You don't want to be left behind? Yeah I know what is like" You said to him. "Well in that case I would do my best, but for real you have to stop being so rigid" you said taking him by the hips and he flinch with surprise to then let go a chuckle

"I'm sorry" He said and you nodded and put your hands on his hips again "First we are going to have to work on that posture, lower just a bit your hips and bend your knees" You said pushing him down a bit.

"Like this" he said flexing down so much that he was almost at your height.

"Not at all, I'll show you, Macy come here" You call the girl who was already hiding her laugh behind a magazine, she put on some music on his phone into the speakers and walked towards you.

You took her by the waist and started just making simple walks at the rhythm of the music, showing him how he had to bend his knees but not making it all that evident, then when the next song star going faster you started making more quick moves and shen it turn slow you drag your leg inside slowly, and embraced Macy pulling her closer to you.

"Ok, I can definently not do that" he said once you were done, and you felt flattered to se some amusement in his face.

"I know, but we will figure something out" you smile at him and turn off the music to again trying to make him bend his knees properly.

#barry berkman x reader #barry block #barry hbo #barry berkman #barry berkman edit #Bill Hader #barry fanfiction #dance #tango #angst #comedy #drama #romance #sally reed

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purplepersnicketywrites · 5 years ago

Note

I found this post and I really love the prompt so it goes like this "you're unfairly good at everyhting but I'm strong enough to carry you bride-style and this for some reason renders you speachless" I'm sorry it's not a nermaid thing.

It doesn’t have to be a mermaid thing! You’re good! I just thought it would be On Theme for the month dfshgdfg

ANYWAY YES THIS IS A TOP-TIER PROMPT it’s,,, Kirishima @ Bakugou tbh

so um. it might have taken a while to write this but have like, a whole 4k fic? i don’t know how to drabble,, apparently,,,

Eijirou was in love.

Okay, well, maybe that was a little over-exaggeration of his feelings. Maybe it was being dramatic - especially since he wasn’t actually with the object of his affections (yet) - but dramatic suited his would-be suitor.

Or, Eijirou thought. Am I the suitor?

It wasn’t like he was actively persuing anything… Whatever, the point was that Eijirou was desperately in love with one Bakugou Katsuki, his long-time best friend and the owner of his entire heart and most of his soul. And who could blame him? Bakugou was perfect.

It might not be an opinion that everyone shared of the blond bombshell. He was prickly and wore an almost permanent scowl. He was the grumpiest, grouchiest bastard that Eijirou had ever met. He swore liberally, was unapologetically self-confident almost to the point of arrogance, and he exploded stuff. He’d been even worse when he was younger.

The thing was, as Bakugou’s best friend, Eijirou saw the other side of him, too. Where Bakugou’s walls were raised high around him, he’d carved out a small door for Eijirou and a few of their closest friends to let them in.

Where most saw Bakugou as a unfriendly and standoffish guy, Eijirou saw the introverted young man who was shy and just didn’t want to admit it. Where most heard the blistering language that rolled off of Bakugou’s tongue, Eijirou heard the Bakugou who was bad with words and at a loss for how to really express himself. Bakugou was way more into physical expression than verbal. He didn’t like to talk about feelings or ‘gross sappy shit like that’.

Most people didn’t bother trying to get through Bakugou’s walls to see the part of him that really, truly cared about people. It had been a stunted, shrivelled sort of thing when Bakugou had started at UA. Now, five years later and two into actual hero work, it was like a tree in full bloom. Bakugou cared, in his own way.

His drive was unparalleled. Once Bakugou Katsuki set his mind on something, god, he was gonna get it. Eijirou didn’t doubt for a second that he’d snag the Number One Hero spot at some point in his career. Bakugou inspired Eijirou, he always had.

Bakugou was also absolutely, mind-bendingly smoking hot. Which, you know, that didn’t hurt Eijirou’s attraction to him one bit.

One of the things that Eijirou found most appealing about his friend was his sheer level of competency. In like, any situation. Eijirou would think that maybe they were stuck on something - in a hopeless situation, on an investigation, anything, really - and then Bakugou’s face would do the thing. He’d get one of his special thinky-faces on, the one that meant he was trying to remember something. Then his eyes - bright and shiny and the most gorgeous deep red - would widen slightly as he pulled on all the strings inside his head and found himself weaving up a thought.

Bakugou would bark out a laugh, one of Eijirou’s favourite Bakugou laughs because this one meant I’ve got it, we’ve won, and proceed to obliterate whatever their obstacle was. Bakugou had done a whole lot of things, somehow. He’d done ballet and acrobatics in addition to martial arts to shape his movements as he fought. He was musical. Origami swans had saved their necks twice, somehow, and Eijirou had nearly died for other reasons that one time Katsuki had had to teach him how to tango for that one undercover mission they’d gone on. Both of them had worn awful wigs. Eijirou remembered the mission fondly.

One thing that Bakugou Katsuki still wasn’t great at doing, however, was knowing when he was beaten. Kaminari often joked that Bakugou had no off-switch. He never stopped.

Not even when his leg was cut up from hip-to-calf and there were seven other heroes on the scene.

“Don’t make me call timeout on you, Zero,” Eijirou growled, holding onto Bakugou’s shoulder to stop him rushing after the villain that Eijirou was pretty sure Battle Fist had already smacked down into the ground. Bakugou tried to keep walking. “You’re bleeding. Like, badly.”

“They can stitch it later,” Bakugou said, eyes darting around.

Eijirou narrowed his own eyes. “Once you’ve passed out from blood loss, you mean?”

Bakugou glared at him and tried to shake Eijirou’s hand off his shoulder. “Don’t mother-hen me, Red.”

“Oh yeah,” Eijirou huffed, doubling down on his grip. “Because not wanting my partner to drop ‘cause he’s being stubborn is unreasonable.”

“Exactly,” Bakugou said, raising one hand. It was already popping a little. Was he going to try and blast Eijirou’s hand off of him? He ought to know that wouldn’t work by now.

Eijirou sighed. “Well, if you’re gonna act like a baby about it… It’s timeout time.”

Bakugou only had time to frown at him before Eijirou was scooping him up into a bridal-style lift. Bakugou squawked and let off a couple of bangs from his hands. They achieved exactly nothing.

“Let me go, you bastard!” Bakugou snapped. He wasn’t wriggling too much, though. His leg must have been really painful. Eijirou tried not to jostle it. “Put me down!”

“Nope!” Eijirou said, and he looked around to see if he could see any medical assistance. If not, well, the hospital wasn’t too far from here… Bakugou folded his arms over his chest and pouted. Good, he’d accepted his fate.

There were no medics set up around here, so Eijirou set off at a light jog towards the route to the hospital. He could feel warmth dripping down one of his arms and grimaced to himself. Bakugou really was losing blood, huh? He was lucky that the villain hadn’t caught one of his major blood vessels.

It didn’t take very long until the hospital was in sight, and Eijirou glanced down at Bakugou, who was staring fixedly at his own knees with a weird expression on his face.

“Hey man, you holding up?” Eijirou asked, wondering if Bakugou was in more pain than he’d thought or like, fainting or something. He shifted Bakugou’s weight in his arms a little.

Bakugou nodded, flushing pink? “Just get me to the docs already.”

“You got it, dude,” Eijirou said, jogging around the hospital building until he saw the sign for A&E. People moving outside the hospital caught sight of them and ogled. Man, they were probably both covered in blood, huh? This’d probably make the news.

It was worth it if Bakugou was okay, though. Eijirou was beginning to get worried - his friend had gone pale again, paler than he should be, and quiet, too. Quiet and Bakugou did not mix. He sped up a little and then all of a sudden he was at the desk in A&E.

“Uh,” Eijirou managed to get out, but the receptionist had seen them coming and a doctor was already rushing over.

“Over here, Red Riot,” the doctor said, showing Eijirou to a free bed. He laid Bakugou down on it as gently as he could. Nurses swarmed under the doctor’s direction, and before Eijirou knew what was going on, he was being bundled into a waiting room chair with a shock blanket and a mug of cocoa.

He texted Mina to go to his and Bakugou’s apartment to pick up some fresh clothes for them both as she had a spare key, and then he was just waiting. He offered himself as a blood donor - as an O-Neg he was a universal donor - but the doctors had deemed it unnecessary. They had plenty of blood for Bakugou to have. That was good. He thought that they had probably stitched him up by now, and maybe even used a medical quirk.

“Red Riot?”

Eijirou looked up. One of the nurses from earlier stood in front of him. “Oh, uh, hi! How’s Ground Zero doing?”

“Good,” said the nurse. “His injuries have been treated and he’s currently being given painkillers for it. He is currently asleep, but would you like to sit in with him?”

Eijirou glanced down at his soiled clothes. “Am I allowed, with all of this gunk on me?”

“His injuries have all been cleaned and dressed, so unless you try to remove any of them, I think you’ll be safe,” the nurse grinned. “Follow me.”

Eijirou did. He was led through a few different corridors and into a ward with individual rooms. The nurse pushed one door open and then there was Bakugou. He looked a lot cleaner and was a far better colour than he had been. Eijirou let out a sigh of relief and went to sit on one of the visitors’ chairs.

“Thanks,” he told the nurse, who smiled again and left the room after telling Eijirou to yell if anything was amiss.

Eijirou stared at Bakugou’s face. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

One of Bakugou’s eyes cracked open. “Yeah.”

“Huh,” Eijirou said. “No arguing with me any more? Those painkillers must be strong.”

“I’m so fuckin’ high right now,” Bakugou agreed. “Sorry.”

“Apologies, too? Man, I should keep some of this stuff and slip it to you the next time you get too grumpy.”

Bakugou grinned at him. “Nah, ya like me when I’m grumpy.”

Damn, well, that was true.

“Yeah, I do,” Eijirou said, and prodded Bakugou’s chest. “So stop ending up in here. This one’s gonna leave a real nasty scar.”

“Mmhmm,” Bakugou said, closing his eyes again. “Sooner I rest up, sooner I’ll be cleared to leave this fuckin’ place. So shut ya trap.”

“Charming,” Eijirou said with a snort.

“I know I am,” Bakugou mumbled. “Shut up.”

Eijirou patted Bakugou on the shoulder. “Yeah. I’ll be here when you wake up again, yeah?”

“Better fuckin’ be,” Bakugou said, and then his face dropped into the genuine relaxation of sleep.

Mina was a goddamn lifesaver. She had brought them their clothes, informed Bakugou that he was a moron for making everyone worry about him, and then swept herself off with no wriggling eyebrows or probing about Eijirou basically gluing himself to Bakugou’s side. She had also taken away their dirtied costumes ‘to be burned’.

The hospital staff had given Bakugou the A-Okay to head home (and rest his leg, which Eijirou was going to have to enforce, somehow). Now all they had to do was physically get out of the hospital.

That was easier said than done.

“I do not need a fuckin’ wheelchair,” Bakugou insisted, despite the fact he wasn’t really supposed to walk in case his stitches ripped. He had woken up on the wrong side of everything, let alone the bed, and now that they’d taken him off the strong painkillers the reality of his injury had settled in.

Eijirou was losing his patience with his friend. “Stop swearing at the staff, Bakugou.”

“I do whatever I damn well please,” Bakugou spat, glowering. “Fucking antibiotics, feel like shit. I’m allowed to cuss, I’m an adult.”

“It’s not professional, man,” Eijirou said. “What if a kid in the hospital hears you? They’re gonna repeat what Ground Zero says.”

“It’s education.”

Eijirou’s mouth threatened to twitch up. No! He wasn’t amused!

“Dude,” said Eijirou. “You suck.”

Bakugou scowled at him. “You wish.”

Eijirou took a moment for himself to scream internally. Being head over heels for this man was incredibly testing at times. He had a suspicion that Bakugou knew, from comments like that, but he could never be sure. Eijirou pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you going to get into the chair? Or are you hoping that you’ll start spontaneously levitating?”

“I just don’t want the press to get me in one of those things,” Bakugou said, pouting to the side.

“There’s literally nothing wrong with being in a wheelchair, Bakugou,” Eijirou said.

Bakugou scoffed. “Of course not! But the tabloids’ll overreact and make out like I’m dying or I’ve lost my leg or some stupid shit like that. It’ll affect the rankings.”

Eijirou sighed. Bakugou narrowed his eyes and Eijirou held up his hands. “I get it, bro, the world is stupid. They probably already got me carrying you in here covered in blood, though. I could carry you back out again?”

“And do what, carry me the whole way home?” Bakugou snapped.

“Sure, why not?” Eijirou shrugged. “If it gets you out of the hospital.”

Bakugou glared at him. “Why n- We live three fuckin’ miles away, dipshit!”

“And?”

Bakugou blinked. “And that’s a fuckin’ long way to go if you’re lugging someone along with you.”

“Not really, ‘cause I’m like,” Eijirou paused to reorganise his words. “I’ve definitely carried more than you for further before.”

“Excuse me,” said one of the nurses. “So will you be using the wheelchair or not?”

“Not,” Bakugou said.

Oh, wait, so the carrying thing wasn’t hypothetical. Okay.

“Alright, let’s go then,” Eijirou said, walking over to where Bakugou was sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the hospital bed, signed discharge papers in his hand ready to give to reception. Eijirou tried to pretend that his heart wasn’t thundering in his chest. He failed.

No use agonising over it! Eijirou scooped Bakugou up. Bakugou slung one of his arms around Eijirou’s neck - for balance, probably - and lay the other with the discharge papers over his lap.

“You good?” Eijirou asked. Bakugou nodded. “I’m not grabbing your cut, right?”

Bakugou shook his head.

“Comfy?” Eijirou asked. Bakugou nodded. Okay, that was weird, he’d gone quiet. And slightly red. Was that like, a symptom of something, or? “Cat got ya tongue, man?”

Bakugou went pale, and then red again, almost like some kind of squid thing that Eijirou had seen on a wildlife documentary once.

“Ba-”

“Just go already,” Bakugou muttered, scowling at the papers he was holding.

“Alright,” Eijirou said, thanking the nurse and striding from the room.

“Home, sweet home,” Eijirou said, setting Bakugou down for the first time since they’d left the hospital. They weren’t quite in yet, but Eijirou did sort of need to unlock the door. He kept ahold of Bakugou’s arm to make sure he stood in one place, and then the door was open and he was picking Bakugou up again.

So what if he was enjoying all this extra contact? Sue him.

“Sofa or bed, Bakugou?” Eijirou asked, and Bakugou jumped slightly in his arms. He’d have his Thinking Really Hard face on all the way home and had barely said a word.

“Sofa,” Bakugou said. Eijirou set him down and Bakugou leant back into the cushions with his Thoughtful Scowl on again.

Eijirou sat next to him, breathing out a sigh of relief that they were finally home and mostly back in one piece after the fight today. Eijirou had dealt with knife quirks before - on his hero debut, even! - but while his quirk protected him from the worst of any sharp things, it meant that he no longer really got aimed at and it was harder for him to take hits.

Man, if the knife villain had gotten Eijirou? He’d’ve come away from the battle totally unharmed and desperately seeking a new pair of trousers or something. But no. The villain had got his best friend instead, and now everything was going to be a hassle for a while. Patrols without Bakugou didn’t suck, but they did get a little dull, and Eijirou would always be worrying that Bakugou had fallen over or something and injured himself more without anyone around to help him.

“You wanna get take out tonight?” Eijirou asked. He was gonna order it anyway because he didn’t want to cook and he wasn’t gonna let Bakugou do it. Bakugou grunted - probably in agreement - and Eijirou realised that he was still on his no-talking thing. “Dude, what’s up?”

Bakugou levelled a glare at him. “Take a wild guess.”

“Nuh uh, that ain’t gonna fly,” Eijirou said. “You’re moping, or something. Injuries make you angry. You get louder. Not whatever this is.”

“The fuck do you know?” Bakugou grumbled. Eijirou reached out and whacked Bakugou’s shoulder lightly.

“I know you, man,” Eijirou said.

“Ugh,” Bakugou said. “I guess you do.”

He was still looking at Eijirou, expression shifting and shifting so quickly that Eijirou couldn’t keep up. Bakugou’s thoughts must have been racing - and for such a quick-thinking guy that speed must be intense.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Eijirou said, launching into his usual get-Bakugou-to-open-up-about-things spiel. “But I’m here for ya, Bakugou.”

“Yeah, you are,” Bakugou said, face moving into a frown. Huh? “Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you here?” Bakugou asked. “Why do you want to be here?”

Well, this was not exactly the conversation Eijirou had envisioned having… Like, ever. “You’re my best frien-”

“That’s not what I meant, Kirishima,”Bakugou growled, cutting Eijirou off with a glare. What, was Eijirou not giving the right answer to his vague and nebulous question? “It- Ugh. What do you want from me?”

Eijirou blinked. “What? Nothing.”

“No, there isn’t nothing,” Bakugou snapped. Huh? Eijirou didn’t understand what Bakugou was saying. Was this just from all the pain meds, even if the loopy ones weren’t being used any more? Did Bakugou think that Eijirou was only hanging out with him for… For what? Personal gain? What would that even be? Years of friendship (and feelings) down the line and Bakugou thought this? Bakugou clacked his teeth together and frowned harder. “Stop- Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking.”

“Wh-”

“No, fuck, let me just,” Bakugou grimaced, looking off to the side. Oh, this was some weird feelings thing, wasn’t it? No wonder Bakugou wasn’t making any sense. Eijirou still felt tense, but not quite as alarmed. “You carried me home for three fucking miles, Kirishima! What do I- How the hell am I supposed to- Ugh!”

Oh, Eijirou thought he could see the picture of things, now. “You don’t need to give anything back to me for that, Bakugou! It’d be selfish to ask for you to repay me for something I volunteered to do!”

“Well, maybe you should be,” Bakugou said. Eijirou tilted his head. Bakugou glanced at him and away again. “Be selfish, I mean! You’re always fucking giving. Giving and giving and never taking a single thing back for yourself and it drives me up the fucking wall!”

Eijirou shook his head. “There’s nothing I need from anyone that I don’t already have.”

“What about what you want,” Bakugou said. He fixed Eijirou with his stare again and something in his expression made Eijirou’s stomach do somersaults. “Is there anything you want from me that I could give you?”

Eijirou met Bakugou’s burning gaze.

Everything, his brain supplied.

Bakugou’s eyes widened slightly, and Eijirou realised that he’d said the word aloud. Before he could even think about being horrified, Bakugou’s scowl slipped from his face. It was replaced by a triumphant grin.

“Oh thank fuck you finally said it,” Bakugou said, leaning over into Eijirou’s space. Eijirou could feel his whole face burning. “‘Cause if I never got the chance to tell you how god damned hot it is that you can carry me in your arms for three fucking miles without even breaking a sweat, I think I would’ve died.”

Eijirou couldn’t provide a response to that. His lips were occupied, all of a sudden. With Bakugou. Because Bakugou was kissing him, and kind of insistently. Eijirou allowed himself a few more moments to be utterly confused, and then he wrapped his arms around Bakugou and kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm as Bakugou was putting in.

“That’s a little dramatic,” Eijirou said, when they parted to breathe.

Bakugou snorted. “You know who you’re dealing with.”

“Mmhm,” Eijirou said, kissing Bakugou again and finding himself delighted by the way he reacted. When had Bakugou crawled into his lap? “Uh… We should probably talk about this.”

“I’m fuckin’ crazy about you. We’re dating now. That enough talkin’ for ya?”

Probably not, but- Bakugou kissed him again. And again. And again. Eijirou laughed into the kisses, and began to run his hands down Bakugou’s sides. “Wait, um. So does this make you my boyfriend, Katsuki?“

“Fuck, yes,” Bakugou said. Or should it just be Katsuki now? Yeah, Eijirou liked the sound of that. “You- Ow! Watch it!”

Eijirou winced, pulling his hand away from Katsuki’s hip. “Oops! I forgot! Are you okay?”

“Dumbass,” Katsuki said, but fondly.

“For the record, I’m crazy about you, too,” Eijirou said, taking advantage of the lull to speak. “I’ve been kind of head over heels for you since school.“

“I know,” Katsuki said. Oh.

“Wait,” Eijirou raised an eyebrow. “You knew? Like, since when?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Since forever. You’re not subtle.”

Eijirou blinked. “What? Then- Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I dunno,” Katsuki said, pulling himself back to lay against the sofa cushions again. “I was confused about it for a long-ass while.”

“So, you’re not confused any more?” Eijirou asked. It didn’t really need to be asked, given the way that Katsuki had kissed him just now, but Eijirou wanted everything out in the open.

“No,” Katsuki lifted his good leg and prodded Eijirou’s chest with his foot. “I’ve been flirting with you for like, a fuckin’ year now. Thought it’d finally spur you to action but noooo, you have to be all self-depreciating and second-guessing shit all the time.”

“A year?” Eijirou said, feeling his mouth fall open. His brain scanned through all of their recent interactions - there was a lot to sift through. Oh, that explained a few things. Eijirou put a hand over his face. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki said. He beckoned Eijirou over with a finger. “But you’re my idiot now, so come here.”

Eijirou crawled over him, mindful of Katsuki’s injured leg. Katsuki hooked his arms around Eijirou’s neck and drew him into a languid kiss.

“I love you,” Eijirou said, feeling a shiver down his spine as the words left his mouth. Wait, fuck, it was too soon for that and Katsuki was probably going to-

“Holy shit,” Katsuki said, turning bright red. “Fuck- Fucking warn a guy if you’re gonna say something that sappy!”

“I’m sorry, I, uh-”

Katsuki slammed a hand over Eijirou’s mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare take it back, Eijirou.”

Oh, Eijirou thought. That was the first time he used my given name.

“I,” Katsuki swallowed, his flushed face darkening further. “I love you too.”

The shiver that followed Katsuki’s statement dwarfed any he’d experienced previously. It felt like his soul was on fire. Eijirou didn’t know how to respond, so he kissed Katsuki again.

“I love you,” he said, pressing his lips to Katsuki’s jaw. “I love you,” he said, kissing Katsuki’s cheek. He continued, saying those three words over and over and peppering kisses all over Katsuki’s face. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Katsuki grinned, happier than Eijirou had ever seen. He could feel Katsuki’s fingers running through his hair at the back of his head. “Fuck, I love you. So fucking much.”

Eijirou pressed their foreheads together.

“Katsuki,” Eijirou said, but not for any particular reason. He just wanted to say Katsuki’s name.

“Eijirou,” Katsuki echoed. “We still have to order food.”

“Oh, right!” Eijirou sat up.”Whaddya want?”

“You.”

Eijirou flushed. “Babe. Er, can I call you that?“

“Fuck, call me whatever you want,” Katsuki said, matching the shade of Eijirou’s face. “Curry?”

“Curry it is!” Eijirou said, climbing off of Katsuki and the sofa and making his way over to the phone to call their usual place. He rattled off their order, maybe a little quicker than usual. Once it was confirmed, he put the phone down and turned to stare at Katsuki.

Katsuki looked back at him. Eijirou didn’t think he’d looked away, and that was just. It was something. Eijirou’s stomach flipped and flopped. Katsuki patted the space next to him on the sofa and Eijirou made his way back over. No sooner had he sat down, than Katsuki’s arm circled his waist and pulled him close. Katsuki buried his face into Eijirou’s shoulder, and Eijirou echoed his hum.

“Wish you’d wised up sooner,” Bakugou said, voice slightly muffled. “Coulda been doing this for fuckin’ ages.”

“Well, we can do it now, and as much as we want,” Eijirou said, twisting to press a kiss into Katsuki’s hair.

“Mm,” Katsuki mumbled, pushing his face down harder. “Wanna post something mushy on social media?”

“Shouldn’t we run it by the PR team, first?” Eijirou asked.

Katsuki looked up at him. “Fuck that. Tell the world you’re in love with me already.“

Eijirou grinned, because he did.

#kiribaku #bakushima #fanfiction #my fanfiction #drabble #?#reply #anon #ask meme #sort of #i swear half the stuff i write is 'and then they smorched on a sofa'#'and ordered takeaway'#hm #this was practically done for DAYS it took me ages to come up with a good ending line #BUT I DID AND IT'S HERE WHOOO #i'm gonna chuck this on AO3 in a bit but i don't have the energy for writing tags atm

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squidpro-quo · 5 years ago

Text

A/N: because i fall down the dance youtube rabbithole sometimes and find videos that make me want to write a dance au for Kaishin, feat. heels

“Anything new today?” Shinichi asked Heiji, using the question as an excuse to lean down into a stretch that pulled at his thighs. Warm-up was the best time for gossip, when you weren’t out of breath yet but had an excuse to go slow, swaying from one correspondent to the other in a daisy chain of information that had a chance of being as unreliable as a game of telephone. But that didn’t stop anyone.

“Word is it’s Kuroba,” Heiji hissed back, arms locked above his head as he limbered up in his usual getup of loose sweatpants and a hoodie. His chosen outfit always baffled Shinichi, who preferred his arms and legs to feel less weighed down but to each their own. Loosening up his shoulders, he considered the answer in between windmills and watched their reflections in the mirrored wall.

Kaito had been working on something for a while, staying late in the all-use studio room and nursing his ankles some days later. All of his pieces ended up a surprise, something a little unbelievable and unexpected but still containing the core of his style, the moves that made up who he was as a dancer. Shinichi doubted it would be any different this time.

Glancing across the room, he immediately found Kaito’s hunched form rooting around in his bag with his usual black leggings already on and balancing on bare feet with one hand buried in his hair.

“Oi! You going to pull a rabbit outta that bag in your next piece, Kuroba?” Heiji called across the room, cutting through the chatter in Ran’s corner with the strength of one oblivious to the appropriate volume used for discrete conversation.

Kaito flapped a hand behind his back, switching the other from scratching his head to yanking a scarf out of the depths of his bag.

“It was worth a shot, I swear I saw a straight-up bird in his pocket one time, you gotta believe me.” Apparently giving up on getting any response, Heiji turned back to Shinichi and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “You gonna manage to keep it together for today, Kudo?”

“I didn’t ‘swoon’ as you put it. Ran moved and I lost my balance, you know how she can get when she isn’t paying attention.”

“Coulda sworn you just got blown away by a certain pair of legs, but that mighta just been me.”

Shinichi ignored Heiji’s teasing grin, pulling his knee up to his chest and continuing his stretches, sneaking a glance across to where Kaito was somehow still working on pulling the same scarf out of his bag. He just wanted to work on a few new steps today and avoid any embarrassing mishaps, and forget about the past ones too, if Heiji would let him. If he could just get through the session without getting distracted then maybe he could convince Heiji, and perhaps himself, that it was a passing phase. It was one thing to sneak glances, to say he was just looking for what forms Kaito was doing during practices, what flourishes he always added, but with how his own steps faltered sometimes it was starting to become a problem, one he should nip in the bud.

“Alright, time to start,” Haibara called out from where she was leaning against Ran’s shoulder, watching the clock like a hawk. If she weren’t there to keep them on track, Shinichi wondered if they’d ever get started during their allotted time. There were other groups that wanted to use the studio, they were lucky to get a slot in the first place.

Shinichi straightened up, pulling in a deep breath as he fell back to where he’d left off last time. And not the staring part, but his own piece. His eyes wandered of their own accord, just a quick look before he turned away. And Kaito was making a beeline for him, something black and tangled in his hand, eyes catching Shinichi’s immediately.

Kaito smiled, hand finding its way into his hair again as he rocked onto the balls of his feet in front of Shinichi and asked.

“Would you help me with something today?”

“Sure,” Shinich answered fast, almost before Kaito had finished speaking and nodded in case his affirmative hadn’t been clear enough. “What is it?”

“I need a partner, some of the moves I’m doing are a little difficult to pull off without some… support.”

Shinichi’s mind ran through about half a dozen options, trying to figure out what kinds of lifts Kaito could possibly be asking him to do. Or maybe it was spins? He didn’t really take Kaito for much of a ballet person, though he might know the basics.

Kaito held up his hand, a strap coming loose and falling against the inside of his wrist as Shinichi saw the high heels in his grip. Taller than kitten heels but not exactly stilettos, Shinichi’s first thought was that wearing them would give Kaito an inch or two on him, a perspective he hadn’t considered before.

“Oh,” he managed to say. Even as Kaito balanced on one foot to slide the heels on in one practiced move, Shinichi knew this was going to be bad for his health. They were in a dance group together, that much was true, but he’d only ever danced with Kaito during their basics practices, some waltzes and such. But this was tickling all of his buttons already, watching Kaito stand up and tap the toe of his shoe against the floor and settle a heel rivaling a knife-blade down onto the parquette floor.

“Here, I’ll give you the music. It’s a remixed swing number so I’ll lead with the steps, you’ve got the rest right?”

Shinichi wasn’t about to admit he might not.

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

The moment their hands touched, Kaito’s hand in his and his other tentatively laid on Kaito’s waist, was when Shinichi knew that he wasn’t going to make it through the experience. The music started off with a jaunty saxophone, Kaito snaked a hand over his shoulder and they were off. Shinichi knew the steps but Kaito’s quick squeeze along his shoulderblade steered him to the left, aware over the hours of couples dances with Ran that he needed to follow the cues given to him even if technically he was supposed to be leading.

But really, if he’d been leading he couldn’t have paid as much attention to the way Kaito’s hips swayed and that would have been a crying shame. He’d expected the heels to sound out a sharp, staccato rhythm but Kaito moved with enough ease to keep his steps to a soft tapping akin to raindrops.

Their movements picked up a bit of speed as Shinichi grew more used to the rhythm of the steps and the way he could smell the snow and chocolate on Kaito’s breath each time they shared a glance. It almost threw him off with the first inhale. And even though he knew it was good form to keep your gaze up and away from your feet, but expecting him to ignore the way Kaito’s eyes were framed by his dark fringe and pinched at the edges as he smiled at such close quarters would have been hard for anyone in Shinichi’s position. Or so he believed.

Kaito stepped around him, hand sliding along his back and affording him a view of them in the mirror over Kaito’s shoulder; his own soft soccer shorts that Ran teased him for wearing to dance practice and left his knees bare mixing with Kaito’s slender black-clad legs. And that was even before he could fully take in the heels. He couldn’t even put his finger on what his fascination with them was, but as he watched them move so quickly and effortlessly that he was mesmerized he couldn’t imagine anyone wearing them this well. But maybe he was biased.

The music had faded into the background, there enough to give him a chance at keeping the rhythm but he was concentrating on other things now. Where their bodies brushed together, hands skirting along a waist or shoulder as they changed positions. Shinichi reeled Kaito toward him in a spin, Kaito turning on a dime as smooth as a spindle of silk while his smile flashed with each quick rotation.

“Don’t let go.” Kaito’s soft murmur was all the warning he had before he felt the telltale weight settle on him as Kaito fell into his arms in a dip. He’d done them countless times, with Ran, with Haibara, even with Heiji for a laugh, but this felt a little different. Kaito’s face hung below him, maybe flushed from their fast pace or for the same reason Shinichi could feel the heat across his cheeks; and one leg hooked around Shinichi’s calf, that needle-thin heel a hard line he could feel pressing into his skin and setting him aflame.

They stayed suspended for a bar, two, the music moved on and Shinichi still felt Kaito’s chest rising and falling in his hold.

“Support enough for you?” he asked, swinging Kaito back upright after another beat that had begun to fade in his ears. Their dance together was over too fast for his taste, although his own stuttering heart might not have been able to take it for much longer and he wished he could think of a reason to do it again.

“For now, yes,” Kaito said, hand warm in Shinichi’s cold fingers while the rest of the studio came back into focus; Ran and Haibara’s salsa dominating their corner of the room, while Heiji’s hip-hop music filtered through his earbuds even from several feet away. “Anything I can do to return the favor?”

Shinichi could think of a few, lots that didn’t involve dancing at all and some that involved the heels Kaito was loosening. He didn’t have any pair dances to use as an excuse for another go around, he couldn’t exactly claim to forget the steps to a waltz and as much as he would love to test his blood pressure against a tango he wasn’t exactly at the level above ‘fumbling through it’ just yet.

Mind spinning in place faster than he’d ever managed during his ballet years, Shinichi watched as Kaito seemed to unlace the thin ties around his ankles so slowly he wouldn’t be done before the end of their session. But it mercifully gave him the time to stumble upon an idea, his brain slowing to a stop in triumph.

“Teach me how to dance in heels,” he blurted out, fingers catching at the strings dangling from his shorts while he waited for Kaito’s reply.

Kaito considered him from where he was crouched in the middle of sliding one of his heels off, eyes narrowed even as a grin played at the edge of his mouth.

“You’ll have to buy your own pair, I don’t have any spares. But sure! I’m sure with your calves, it’ll be a piece of cake,” Kaito finally said, gesturing to Shinichi’s shins with an appreciative smirk.

“Does the favor extend to going shopping for some?” Shinichi ventured.

Kaito didn’t take as long to answer this time and stood up with a quick nod.

“Only if you’re buying the coffee on the way. I need some sugar during search.”

“But coffee…” Shinichi thought of his own bitter, black preference even as Kaito interrupted.

“There’ll be plenty in mine. Let’s go.” Kaito gestured over his shoulder as he started back to his bag, still wrapped in several layers of colorful coils of scarf, and dropped the heels into its depths before pulling on his socks and snowboots.

Shinichi looked over at where Ran had Haibara’s attention tied down rather effectively and checked the clock.

“Oi, Kudo!” Heiji’s not-as-soft-as-it-could-have-been voice came from behind him, “Ya didn’t swoon this time!”

Shinichi rushed to leave the studio before Heiji could shout his secrets over the sound of his own music any longer, although if the way Kaito’s arm twined around his own was any indication, he might say it didn’t matter anymore.

I’m open for requests!

#dcmk #Kuroba Kaito #Kudou Shinichi #kaishin #detective conan #kaito kid #My writing #i don't know what this au is but i like shinichi doing soccer and also dancing cause mmm those thighs #kaito thinks so too

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kyulkyungs · 7 years ago

Text

enemies-to-lovers!jisung

Request: hi hi! could you please write an enemies-to-lovers au with either chenle or jisung please?? and if you don’t mind could you make it quite angsty? thank you💌🌸🍄 (Hello!!!! This is a sure can do! Here you are and thank you!~ I did a coin toss, and Jisung was chosen!!)

others: lucas | yuta | renjun | hendery

jisung is constantly praised for his feats and manages to always prove that he can do much more than other’s expectations

he excelled especially in dance

out of the entire school he attended, he never failed to rank in the top 5... most often being number one in his area

and what comes with being number one is the respect, connections, friends, and priviledges

for his age, this was an amazing feat as he was in a better place than most adults working in the same field

better yet he was astounding at most dances people brought up to him

tango, waltz, ballet, hip hop, breakdancing, modern, foxtrot, all that jazz

he even choreographed his own dances from time to time

even got to be a guest instructor to kid’s dance class once and they videoed it and sent it to youtube where he skyrocketed there and not just in the area

all in all, jisung is oftentimes always number one

and you’re always stuck at number two

no matter what you did, you could never be on the same level as him

number two was a good spot, a great one really

but whenever jisung came into the room, the admiring people flocking you ran off to go see him instead

you also posted your own dance covers on youtube and gained quite the amount of recognition there

to the point where dance studios asked for you to come to a class to dance with them once

and you did

but always, always

there were the comments that said ‘i hoped jisung was in there!’ , ‘can you also bring jisung???’ , ‘maybe do a collab with jisung, i think they’d go really well with his dance!’

they never focused....... on you

sure, yes, yeah. jisung was a great dancer... is, but it never felt great knowing that nobody acknowledged you for the same

at your age, your skill level, your ranking, nobody wanted anything to do with you if jisung were also in the equation

honestly you didn’t mind sometimes

you weren’t used to the attention some of the times and jisung handled it all, which was the only great part about this thing

but otherwise........ you were stuck in his shadow

heck even number 3, 4, 5...... they were getting the amount of attention they should be getting...... but number 2... who? yes... that’s you

every now and then there’d be that one pairing assignment and everyone usually went with jisung

and when he was taken you were always left with whoever didn’t have a partner

‘wait so why are you complaining? you’re number two!’

‘exACTLY JENO!! i’m only second best...’

jeno sighs and resumes dancing position and motions for you to do the same

he’s most often your partner because he lurks back and lets everyone else choose and then fills in

other times it’s jaemin who spins into your direction and is like ‘will you have this dance?’

those two highlight your classes honestly and get your mind off your problems

eventually the instructor calls time and to gather back up

you’re still complaining to jeno until the instructor calls for the top three of the class to step up

proudly, jisung steps up first and you’re like >:I and you step up afterwards one of the senior students sicheng steps up

the rest of the class get dismissed while they start talking to you three and they’re like

‘we have a showcase along with the other top schools and each one is sending their best three, that’s you guys.’

and you all nod because of course yeah sure, and then they say

‘the thing is we are only allowed to have one solo and one partner dance. so decide amongst yourselves, hm?’

and instantly sicheng steps up and is like, ‘i can do the solo. i haven’t done one in a while and the choreo i’ve worked on for two years is finally perfected.’

and the instructor is like :)! sure! okay! that means you and jisung work out the partner dance

sicheng turns and is like, sorry you guys don’t mind, right?

and the both of you shrug and are pretty okay with it because hey we kind of have to dance anyways and plus he’s older sooo

but regardless he just smiles at you two and promises to buy you both some snacks later on as a repayment

so you and jisung turn towards each other and are like, so we have to figure this out huh?

and you’re thinking it’s honestly not that bad when the two of you are trying to decide what style of dance you’re doing

and since most of the top dancers from other schools are modern or ballet, and even sicheng is going to do something like that

you two decide to do something more intense, with a song with a lot of beats and snappy movements

while searching for songs and asking some people for recommendations you think that working with jisung isn’t bad and you were wrong for disliking him just because of his rank

he was so calm and so focused

until it came to the actual crafting of the dance

often times the dancers look like they’re in the mood of the song and the dance

and when i said the dance was more intense, it was. more intense

jisung was incredibly serious about creating this choreo and perfecting it

no matter what moves you suggested, jisung would insist that his would fit more and then move on

every now and then he did try out something you offered, but he’d always morph it into something of his own

you wanted to do some fancy footwork in one spot and jisung thought that it was better to do a transition to a different spot

you wanted to add more fluid motions and rolling movements and jisung said that more snapping of the hips and arms would be more suited

you thought that perhaps at least some interaction between the two of you in the dance, as there was none at all, would be great

and jisung thought that his way was far better than yours

not only was he the royal prince of the dancing school, but he was also a royal pain in the butt to work with

‘do this. no this. not that. like this. move fast. arms wide. feet closer. head high.’

you could see the frustration on his part when you refused to be compliant with him, and he grew increasingly more commanding to you over the next few weeks

honestly you were dead tired every practice

jisung would make you stay back late to work on the dance with him or to add something or change something

until one practice you fell over during a spin and instead of cutting the music and asking if you were fine, jisung just........ kept dancing and gave you a side glare as if you were such a problem

you were so. angry because first of all how dare he? and secondly, what did you even do to be treated like this from him?

you hobble over to the music player and shut if off, and only then does jisung stop and he sighs and rubs his face

he’s about to make some sort of comment but you beat him to it

‘what is wrong with you?’

‘me?’ he asks, as if you personally offended him. ‘what’s wrong with you? why can’t you get the moves right?’

‘not only is my body completely tired and destroyed from your controlling self, but i literally had no say in these moves and some of them i can’t do!’

jisung sneers and is tugging a little at his hair and just blurts out

‘i don’t even see why you’re second place! you’re not even good enough for 1,000th if you can’t do these stinkin’ moves!’

you just stand there and when you see that he doesn’t regret his words after saying this to your face you just grit your teeth and start walking towards your stuff

‘and where are you going now?’ he asks and you try your hardest not to snap right there so you turn around while packing up and go

‘i’m quitting’

jisung’s face morphs to one of shock ‘what?’

‘i’m. quitting.’

and it’s not the shock you imagined because jisung says ‘but who else will i dance with? on such short notice too! the showcase is in a week!’

and you just shrug on your bag and walk out with a wave saying, ‘why don’t you find someone who you deem deserving of second place instead of a lowly thorn in your side like me?’

and the next day when jisung walks in to see you talking to the instructor with your back to him

he feels some relief washing into him and is like phew they were just overreacting yesterday

but then he sees both the teacher and you look at your ankle and he trails his eyes down too and......

you have your ankle wrapped up in a brace and you’re actually putting a lot of weight on your other foot

the teacher nods and starts talking more and and jisung is able to hear clearly once he gets closer

‘when do you think you’ll be returning?’

you shift and that’s when you turn and see jisung watching your conversation, and this makes you bite the inside of your cheek like ughhh

but you answer loud and proud like

‘i’m not sure. they said it was only minor so i don’t have to be in the brace for long.................. but i might take a break for a while. i don’t think i’ll have the motivation to dance.’

the instructor is really understanding, truly, because of the stress and pressure you put yourself through

but jisung only now just realizes that oh snap they really did run their body worn

the dark circles under your eyes, the messy hair, the way you were holding your shoulder, too, crumpled clothes...... hey isn’t that the shirt you wore last night??

jisung sighs to himself because he really did it this time

the instructor thinks for a moment and asks what about jisung?

to which you give him the side eye and go ‘it’ll be fine. the choreo can do so much better without me anyways. it was practically a solo with a backup dancer.’

they laugh and are like oh haha you’re so modest but yeah i’m sure jisung could handle this well

then you start to head over to the side to talk with some of your friends and tell them the news

while this happens jisung tries to take his mind off things and continue working on the dance the two of you................ he was working on

your absence wasn’t really noted by everyone else in the class, but it was the most prominent to jisung

he kept thinking back to the choreo and it really....... wouldn’t change much if there was only one person to dance he realizes

he was so caught up in making the dance himself that he included only himself pretty much

two days before the competition jisung is walking back to the practice room because he wants to get the dance down even with you gone

but as he nears the door, he can see the lights on and can hear music playing

he opens the door quietly and he peeks in bc what is going on???? he wanted to practice????

he stays quiet when he realizes that it’s you who’s dancing...............

to the song that you both picked out, really the only thing you had agreed with

you’re dancing to the song, and it seems like your ankle had gotten better as it wasn’t that bad of a fall

still you were mindful, but yet your dancing was so smooth and so sharp and just the way you envisioned the song to be

the way you moved, jisung agreed with himself when you weren’t deserving of number 1000th

no, that’d be way too insulting

heck, no wonder you were in the top three

your potential wasn’t at it’s peak with jisung weighing you down like this

and boy did he feel bad :(

you were trying really hard and you truly did want to dance and jisung was only ruining that for you

he didn’t mean to

not after.....................

jisung decided to watch as you performed the dance a couple more times and even hid when you thought it was time to leave

tbh, jisung spent all of his time watching you and it was time for him to go home as well

but he decided to continue and stay and practice because he had something to work on

you were so passionate, so in the moment and it was...... beautiful

but he decided to continue and stay and practice because he had something to work on

timeskip~~~ to~ the~~~ competition~~~~~

(what was that aslkdg sorry it’s super late and i shouldn’t be up = stop me now)

anyways

the teacher invited you to the showcase anyways to support the other two and to be a representative regardless, just as one on standby

you’re sitting in the crowd and there’s a couple of kids from other schools talking with you and expressing their sympathies for your ankle, which was mostly fine but braced up again since you did put a lot of strain on it before when you were dancing (haha, oops)

all of a sudden jisung rounds over and the others turn their attention on him not surprisingly

they greet him in respect and try to make conversation but he’s waving them off and asks if he can steal you away for a second

you’re confused but they back off immediately and allow him to have you to himself for a little bit

‘what?’ jisung tries not to flinch at the sharpness of your tone but he looks you in the eyes and just says

‘i saved you a seat by the front.’

then he walks away and leaves you there and you’re like

???? uh what ???

you’re wondering if this is to rub in your face about having the dance to himself and witnessing all his glory

but nonetheless, you take the seat because hey it’s already pretty filled up with people with cameras and scouts and just audience members

you find the seat easy by the jacket jisung had worn a couple times at practice before

when you sit down the air moves around you from how quickly and forcefully you sat down and you’re taken in and surrounded by jisung’s scent

whatever it may be, his shampoo, deodorant, cologne even.............. it’s nice

as you watch the performances from the others schools you’re honestly so enraptured by them all and you know exactly why they rank so high

heck some of them you were so awed by their stage outfits themselves

there would be one more dance before an intermission and then the rest of the perfomances

and, of course, that last one would be jisung’s

you look around at the audience and see that they’ve all gone quiet

you had hoped that jisung at least seated you around the others because hey usually people stick in their groups y’know

but, i mean, then again why would he if he thought you weren’t worthy then hey the others were probably even worse

when he finally walks up on stage you see him in a stage outfit and his hair done nicely

just by how he carried himself to position on stage you could tell, as well as everyone else

that this would be a good performance

although you personally did not like his created choreography, it fit better with him

which was probably why he made it that way....................

a moment before the music started, jisung locked eyes with you

and you felt no malice or superiority or power or even regret or anything

he was just...... looking at you

then he started out

you didn’t realize it at first until you saw some complex footwork that led into a smooth roll of his body in tandem with the beat

this was your choreo

the one that you made

honestly you’re so mesmerized by him dancing and watching him add in a spin

even though he’s dancing solo it almost looks like..........

that he’s reaching out to you

multiple times he looks out into the crowd and he always lingers on you

multiple times he reaches him arm out and it looks like he’s trying to get to you

multiple times he gets near the end on the stage almost in hopes of jumping down and running out

to you

this made you so confused because.......... what was he doing???

this wasn’t the dance, this wasn’t what you two were working, this wasn’t something you got to show him at all

the dance ends and as the lights dim, you see him glance up and make eye contact with you again right before it fades to where you can’t see him anymore

in the low light you can see his figure sprinting off the stage and the lights turn back on and every sits up

everything is in motion

everything except you

you continue watching the spot where jisung had last been standing, and soon he’s there again

this time, just closer and right in front of you

‘what is it?’ you ask, and this time it’s soft, because your tone is laced with wonder and confusion

jisung takes this as a good sign and kneels down in front of you where you sit in the chair still, looking up into your eyes

‘i’m sorry.’

you stare back at him and cock an eyebrow ‘what?’

he takes in a deep breath and can’t meet your eyes for a moment

‘i’m so sorry. i’m stupid all of the time and can’t keep my mouth shut. i never should have said those things to you...’

‘so that up there? was that an apology?’ jisung thinks a little bit and decides to nod instead of saying anything ‘why?’

‘i wanted to show everyone how talented you are’

‘jisung, nobody saw me up there at all. i don’t even get to dance for another couple of days because of you.’

jisung hangs his head and grasps your hands tightly when he realizes that you’re getting angrier with him

‘please,’ he whispers

you can still hear him even in the loud crowd in the room and the bustling of feet and the shouting kids

‘don’t quit, please’

you think back and remember what you had said angrily to him.

‘i’m quitting.’

you sigh and pull your hands away and tell him that you’re not quitting dancing, but you might take a break from being one of the top ten for a while

jisung looks back up and is like ‘but you deserve so much more!’

you huff and are like but that’s not what you said a couple days ago...

jisung visibly flinches this time and smacks his forehead, clenching his fists tightly

‘i do that because i’m mad!’ he blurts out

you stay quiet to let him continue, watching him unfold for the first time

‘do you know how many times i would just hand you over number one just because? i just saw you one day and thought you were the most talented, beautiful being i laid my eyes on! i can’t hand over my position because they don’t listen when i say you deserve it and it makes me so mad i can’t just give it up for you’

you watch jisung drag his hands down his face and angry tears come into his eyes

‘i just want to make you happy, and seeing how unhappy you are looking at me sometimes makes me angry because i can’t do anything about it and i don’t know why’

before jisung starts to ramble more and continue raising his voice, you take his hands this time and rub them gently

‘jisung, quiet down’

he takes a deep breath and hangs his head, telling you that he’s sorry

‘have you just been acting on your anger this whole time?’

sheepishly, he nods and takes one of his hands to wipe at his face

you beat him to it and rub at the corners of his eyes

seeing him like this.......... even though he said such mean things to you......... he apologized and all you wanted to do was cradle the boy at that moment

‘dancing is when i can get my emotions loose... i tend to act more on them too...... i just get really emotional when i see you....... seeing you upset makes me upset and..... i couldn’t control it’

you jolt up for a second, realizing what jisung has been meaning this whole time

‘hey,’ you call and jisung looks up

only to be met with your lips to his cheek

when you pull away he’s blushing hard and looks confused

regardless, he starts breaking out into a smile ones he sees the small one you’re wearing now

‘i don’t think you noticed, but i think it means you like me, dummy’

#elli writes #jisung #nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream angst #angst #neutral pronouns #enemies to lovers au #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #fluff

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