#use for editing. and then i would have to wait for my partner's classes to be over. and i'd be doing nothing

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 1)

pt 2

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner up with fiyero on a history project. things don’t go as you imagine.

a/n: wicked was really good, i love jonathan bailey, and we're coming up on finals season which means im writing about how stressed i am. also halfway through this i realized reader is lowkey paris geller coded lmao. this got away from me so im splitting it into 2 parts, i had a lot of fun writing it so enjoy! also im high posting this so if there's any editing issues im sorry lol!!

wc: 5.5k

warning(s): reader is stressed to the max constantly. she is kinda mean to fiyero but he's into it so it's okay. mostly fluff

Your fingers were beginning to cramp. 

You should have been used to this by now with Doctor Dillamond. You’d been in his class for a few months now, and you graded essays for him often. He often had a propensity for verbosity, but this lecture had been an especially hefty one in preparation for your midterm projects.

He would be announcing partners before the end of class—much to your dismay, for you worked far better on your own than with others holding you down—and you figured you would want to have as much of a head start as possible. 

Great Oz, how you hoped you would be paired with one of your friends. Coralie and Ezura were your only contenders for top of the class—Elphaba had potential as well, not because of the magic she couldn’t control but because of the brain she very well could—and anyone else would frankly slow you down. Doing a large research paper with someone who didn’t care as much as you did would be a drag you didn’t care to go through. 

Midterms were only the most important thing, for they set the track towards finals and affirmed your skill with your assignments, and your first midterm was potentially the most important thing for, when completed successfully, set you on the correct track altogether. 

You tried not to think about it too much (though you failed almost immediately), for you were sure Doctor Dillamond would honor all the work you’d done for him by putting you with a suitable partner. 

“I see some of you are getting restless, so I will cut class short today.” Your eyes snapped up from your paper to see the professor smiling, and you could hear sighs of relief around the room. “I’m sure you’re all eager to know your partners for the midterm paper.” 

The sighs of relief turned to groans, and you had to agree. Assigned partners should have been considered archaic at this point in time. 

Doctor Dillamond trotted back to the projector and, with a bit of difficulty, replaced the image with a piece of paper. Everybody in the class was paired off in groups of two—you immediately started searching for your name, squinting slightly to see despite your spot in the front, and the furrow between your brows deepened when you realized you couldn’t find it. 

You searched instead for your hopeful options. Coralie was with Mayara, Ezura was with Nicholas, Elphaba was with Galinda—of course. You let out a slight huff of annoyance, not just at your disappointment but at the continued lack of your name. 

Perhaps he’d merely forgotten. You didn’t know how Dillamond could have forgotten you, seeing as you were only his best student and literal TA, but things happened. Your anxieties only grew as you heard the beginnings of whispers throughout the room as your classmates saw their pairings, either excited or dismal. 

“Class is dismissed,” Doctor Dillamond said. The room began bustling as students gathered their things, already talking with their friends or searching out their project partner—you heard Galinda squeal and saw her grab Elphaba’s hands out of your peripherals. You could only worry your lip between your teeth as you swept everything in your bag, hardly waiting a second before rushing up to Dillamond’s desk. 

“You didn’t call my name, professor,” you said, managing a smile as you tried to act like it wasn’t killing you. How could he have not called your name? Was there something wrong? Great Oz— had you been somehow moved out of the class? Was your work not exemplary enough? Your assistance not assisting enough? “I don’t have a partner.” 

His mouth opened, but you only found yourself continuing, the words practically tumbling out of you.  

“Of course, if you intended for me to be on my own then I am perfectly alright with that!” Your smile widened as your fingertips dangled over his desk. “I— I prefer it, in fact, so if that is it then there is really no issue at all—”

“Mr. Tigelaar!” he interrupted, and your head turned on instinct to see the eponymous boy arm in arm with Galinda (who was arm in arm with Elphaba) just in front of the door. “I hope you are not about to leave.”

Fiyero flashed a look at his companions before offering one of those easy smiles he seemed to always have up his sleeve. “You dismissed the class. I believe I am part of your class, am I not?”

“You are,” he said, “but you were not assigned a partner. Surely you wouldn’t be trying to get out of the project.”

Your free hand clenched as the threads started to connect. Doctor Dillamond wouldn’t do this to you. Would he?

That easy smile remained on his lips as he turned to Galinda and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before she walked out, pulling Elphaba behind her, and Fiyero sauntered over. 

“Of course I’m not trying to get out of it,” he said. “Whyever would you think so?”

“Your attempt at a quick exit before you could be assigned a partner,” the professor said. “But it is no matter, for your partner is right here.”

You blinked. He would do this to you.

Why would he do this to you?

“Well, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. “Fiyero Tigelaar.”

You ignored him, for you couldn’t look away from Doctor Dillamond. Would it be mad for you to strangle a Goat?

“Professor,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why?”

“Mr. Tigelaar’s grades in my class have not been satisfactory, as I’m sure he is aware.” Dillamond moved away from his desk, prodding the chalkboard with his head to move it out of the way. “I care about all my students, even if they seem not to care for my course. I believe a partnership for the two of you would be beneficial.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you’re forcing me to tutor him because he hasn’t got a brain.”

Fiyero chuckled. “Ouch.”

“Not tutoring, just working on your midterm together,” he said. “And if you end up teaching him a few things along the way, then we would all be better off, wouldn’t we?” 

“Professor, with all due respect, this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “Why should I have to risk my grade, my midterm, my standing altogether at Shiz just to help him?” 

“Should you perform the way that is typical of you, there should be no issues.” Doctor Dillamond gave you that professorly look and your teeth grinded against each other. How dare he try to take the moral high ground. “Now, the two of you better hurry off. You haven’t got forever to work on this project.” 

“Professor,” you whispered, determined to not let up, “why are you punishing me like this?”

“I’m not punishing you, my dear.”

“Fiyero couldn’t care less about any of this,” you insisted. “I’m going to fail my midterm and it will be all his fault!”

“If you believe he can make you fail, then you haven’t got as much faith in yourself as I believed.” Doctor Dillamond looked at you. “Trust me—and yourself—that this will all work out.”

You stared back—it was rather difficult to have a staring contest with a Goat. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind on this?”

“You’d be correct.”

You huffed and glanced away. “Fine. But expect those test scores to take an extra day.”

He let out a bleaty sort of laugh while you walked away. You considered it a credit to yourself that you held back the childish tantrum you wanted to throw as you moved back over to your desk to gather the rest of your things. You shoved your books into your bag with a bit more anger than necessary, and you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over to see Fiyero sidled up beside you, leaning against the desk next to yours. 

“Surely you won’t be this irritated at me the entirety of our project.” He still had that unbothered smile on his lips, and it made you want to hit him. “It might make this a much more miserable partnership.”

You let out a mirthless laugh as you shouldered your bag. “Don’t act like this pains you. You’re just going to ride my coattails the entire time.” 

“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Fiyero mused. “But now that you bring it up, I just may have to.” 

“For the love of Oz,” you muttered to yourself before mustering the strength to look up at him. “I have a myriad of things I need to do today. Why don’t you go bother your girlfriend for the rest of the day, and then you can meet me at the library first thing tomorrow morning so we can discuss all of this.” 

He shrugged. “Sounds alright to me.” 

“Good,” you said. “Because I meant every word I said back there. I will not have you ruining all my progress thus far because of your absolute refusal to think.” 

“It looks as if you could take a page out of my book,” Fiyero said. “You seem awfully stressed.” 

Your lips tightened into a mirthless smile. “I’m stressed because of you, Fiyero, and we have hardly even interacted. I dread to think of my mental state after a week of working together. Now, good day. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You swept past him and walked out of Doctor Dillamond’s classroom. You felt his eyes on you until you turned the corner, and you had to resist the urge to look back. 

Oh, how you loathed group projects. 

-

The rest of your day was far more demanderating than it should have been, and you blamed Fiyero for it. You swore the clock went by half as quick and your lectures twice as long—it didn’t help that you were so distracted in chemistry that you nearly burned your eyebrows off from a potion gone wrong. 

You’d practically thrown yourself onto your bed when you got back to your dorm, and you didn’t get up until your roommate got back and demanded to know what had gotten into you. She didn’t exactly give you the response you wanted. 

“The prince is your partner?” Coralie sighed dreamily. “Oh, you are so lucky.” 

“Lucky is not the way I’d put it,” you mumbled, words muffled by the sheets. You finally tore yourself up off your bed and picked your nightgown up from atop your dresser. You went behind your folding sheet and began to change. “And I didn’t know you had eyes for Fiyero.” 

“I hardly have eyes for him,” she said wryly. “I just have eyes—anyone can see that he’s attractive.” 

“It doesn’t matter how attractive he is if he makes me fail this midterm,” you said. You straightened your nightgown then folded your school uniform while you walked back into the open, passing a glance at your roommate as you placed it on your desk. You then settled on your bed with a huff. “I just don’t understand why Doctor Dillamond is punishing me like this. It makes me reconsider all those late nights spent grading papers for him.” 

Coralie shrugged. “You’re one of his best students, Fiyero is probably one of his worst. I bet Doctor Dillamond figured you would be happy to take him on, what with how happily you take on everything else he throws at you.” 

You grumbled as you laid back against your pillows. “I just don’t know if I can take him on. Fiyero seems to care more about flirting with every student at this school than any actual material.” 

She gave you a mischievous smile. “Maybe he’ll turn the full force of his affections on you in return for your studiousness. Oh, how that would be a sight to see.” 

“Don’t even put that idea into the air, Cora,” you scoffed. “Besides, he’s clearly involved with Galinda. Even if I was interested, which I’m not—” you emphasized with a pointed look at her— “that isn’t something I want to touch.” 

“Well, you can’t deny that he’s dreamy,” she said. “He just showed up at Shiz and people started falling left and right. It’s more impressive that you haven’t.” 

“Because I’m here for one reason,” you said. “His whole… thing doesn’t fit into any of it.” 

“I know,” Coralie mused as she fell back onto her pillows. “You’ve told me your whole plan ten times over. I just think you should also try to enjoy your life instead of bulldozing your way through it.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’m enjoying my life just fine, thank you.” 

Interestingly enough, Fiyero was going through something similar a myriad of rooms away. 

He laid on Galinda’s bed, his head in her lap as she trailed her fingers through his hair. She’d been going on about something for the last couple of minutes, but he hadn’t really been able to focus on any of it. 

“Dearest, did you not hear what I said?” 

Fiyero blinked at the sound of Galinda’s voice. He hadn’t indeed. 

“I’m sorry, beloved.” He absentmindedly reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze once he found it. “I was thinking.” 

Elphaba laughed from across the room. She sat on her bed with a book in her lap. “That’s a first for you.” 

“It is,” Galinda said, though with much more concern laced in her voice. Her hand moved from his hair to his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just fine,” he assured. “What was it you were saying?” 

“Just lamenting on how awful it is that we’ve been separated for this project,” she sighed. “I’m sure I could persuade Doctor Dillamond to put us in a group of three.”

“You can’t even get him to pronounce your name correctly,” Elphaba said wryly. “How could you get him to do this?” 

“Well,” Galinda huffed, “maybe you could do it. He appears to like you more than me.” 

“I’m sure that really hurts,” she said. 

Galinda placed her hand on her chest. “It does!” 

“It’s fine,” Fiyero interrupted. “I’m alright with my partner. She’s nice.” 

“Nice?” Elphaba scoffed. “I heard her lecturing you the whole time we were out in the hallway.” 

“She’s passionate,” he decided. “Besides, I don’t really care. I haven’t thought about it since she left.” 

That was a complete lie. In truth, Fiyero hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left. Very strange for someone who preferred to go through life with less thinking and more doing. 

He honestly didn’t know why his mind was so occupied with you. 

He’d always been aware of you, obviously—all your professors adored you, your name was always brought up when talking about top of the class, and he was sure you held the record for most time spent in the library at once—but he didn’t know anything about you other than your academic record. And for someone with such strong opinions, especially about him, Fiyero found himself with the strange need to know more. 

He would be at the library tomorrow. Maybe not on time, but certainly there. 

Fiyero would make this the beginning of a beautiful partnership, one way or another.

-

True to your word, you were in the library bright and early after a quick stop at the dining hall. You went through the effort of gathering everything you thought you would need—a myriad of textbooks and encyclopedias, your well-weathered notebook and another one for Fiyero because you doubted he had one, and enough writing material for the two of you.

You sighed. You had to do so much just to even the ground between your groups and the others. Coralie was always so prepared whenever you worked together. 

Fiyero, to your surprise, was only ten minutes late. You already had your head buried in a book when he said your name and scared you witless. 

Your eyes widened as they darted up to look at him, and he chuckled. 

“Sorry. You were in the zone.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you said. “You’re late.”

“Hardly.” Fiyero took the seat across from you, his eyes sweeping over everything you had on the table. “You’ve got quite a collection.”

“I doubt you know your way around the library,” you said. 

“I know my way around a lot of things.” 

You leveled your gaze at him. Leave it to Fiyero to make everything an innuendo. “And is a library one of them?”

“I’m sure I could make it one.”

“If you bothered to think at all.”

“Darling, you know I’d never,” he said with a smile. “Now, what are we doing here?”

“Do you really not know what our midterm is?” you marveled. 

“I have more important things to worry about,” he said. 

You scoffed and shook your head. Ridiculous— it was ridiculous that you had to put up with this. Maybe Doctor Dillamond really did hate you.

“Our assignment is an extensively researched ten page paper on any great Ozian,” you said. “Anyone who has contributed to our society in a relevant way and made our lives better for it.”

“A ten page paper?” Fiyero frowned. “That seems a bit much.”

“Between the two of us, it’s just five pages each, and we’ve got two weeks to get it done,” you said. “I’ve written five pages in a few hours of inspiration.”

“Your life truly sounds thrilling,” Fiyero said. “We could do the Wizard.”

“Half the class is going to do the wizard,” you scoffed. 

“Because he’s a great man,” he said. “There’s no shame in it.”

“There is absolutely shame in copying half the class,” you said as you pushed over a sheet of paper to him. “Now, I’ve already got a list going. Look it over; see if there’s anyone you like or anyone worthwhile you want to add.”

You looked back down at your encyclopedia, opened to your personal favorite choice, and continued scribbling down basic notes. You glanced up a few moments later to see Fiyero’s gaze hadn’t wavered from you. 

You frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re awfully prepared,” he said instead. 

“I figured you wouldn’t be,” you responded.

Fiyero’s lips quirked in a smile. “Then I believe that means you deserve to choose our subject.”

Your frown deepened. “Really?”

“Are you always this suspicious of everyone?”

“Just you.”

“Then consider this an olive branch,” he said. He slid the paper back over. “Who’s your top choice?”

“…Ilara Mayfair,” you finally said as you pointed at her on the top of your list. “She was a historical linguist, responsible for half of what we know about Ozian languages and how they connect and differ. She’s…” you cleared your throat and shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, “she’s kind of my hero.”

“Your hero?” Fiyero’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want to do?” 

“…It’s always been my dream,” you admitted. “I grew up helping around my parents’ bookstore and her mark was on nearly everything. I really admire it. I want to make that sort of difference in the world.”

“How noble,” he remarked. What surprised you was how genuine he sounded. “It’s impressive how much of your life you have planned out already. All Galinda knows is that she’s majoring in sorcery—she hasn’t really got anything else worked out.”

“What are you majoring in?” you asked.

“Undecided,” Fiyero said. “I was kicked out of my last school before I could declare, so I figure there’s not really a point in doing it here.”

“Not really a surprise,” you said. 

“Really?”

“On your first day, you snuck off campus with half of Shiz to go dance at Ozdust,” you said. “That’s not exactly a good first impression.” 

“I’d argue the opposite,” he said. Fiyero tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you for a moment. His gaze made you uncomfortably aware of yourself. “I don’t recall seeing you there.” 

“That’s because I wasn’t there.” You looked back down at your encyclopedia to avoid his eyes. “I had more important things to do.” 

He frowned. “Do you ever take a day off?” 

“Of course,” you said. “There isn’t any class on the weekends.” 

“I mean with this,” he said, gesturing at all the books around you. “It doesn’t seem like you allow yourself a single moment of respite. When you’re not in class, you’re studying. When you’re not studying, you’re doing work. When you’re not doing any of it, you’re probably dreaming of your future assignments.” 

You felt your skin heat. Surely you weren’t that transparent. 

“...I don’t dream of them,” you defended. “Not— not always.” 

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. Do you know that?” 

You frowned. “How am I ridiculous? You’re incapable of taking a single thing seriously.” 

“And you’re incapable of not taking everything seriously,” Fiyero said. “It can’t be good for your health.” 

“I plan to get out of here a year early,” you said, looking back at your books. “I can’t slack off like you do if I want that plan to come to fruition.” 

“Oh, I’ve gotten out of every school I’ve been in a year early,” Fiyero said. “Sometimes two or three— Oz, sometimes I don’t even make it through the first semester.” 

Your eyes snapped back up to him, widened in instinctual panic. “What?” 

He burst out laughing, and it grinded every one of your gears. “Oh, I wish you could see the look on your face! It’s priceless— truly priceless!” 

“You’ve been kicked out of every school you’ve been to and you think it’s a joke?” 

Still laughing, he shrugged. “It is. Nothing bad has happened, and I’m still having the time of my life wherever I go.” 

You just shook your head as you stared at him, eyes still wide. “Are you always like this?”

“Utterly charming?” 

“Entirely insufferable.”

You didn’t understand how he laughed. Everything rolled right off him, like oil off a duck’s back, no matter how many times you insulted him. 

“You know, there are other things to life than your studies,” he said.

“Not while I’m here, there isn’t,” you said. “It’s the whole point of university.” 

“The point of university is to have fun,” he said. “You’ve seen how this place has perked up since I’ve gotten here, haven’t you?” 

“Not really, no,” you said. “I’ve been more focused on other things.” 

“Like?” 

“Like my studies.” 

“It’s like I’m talking to a broken record,” he marveled. “Have you ever had fun in your life?” His eyes widened comically. “Do you even know what the concept of fun is?” 

“Ha ha,” you said dryly. 

He tilted his head. “Do you?” 

You frowned. “Of course I do.” 

“Okay, then.” Fiyero leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself.”

Your frown deepened. “We aren’t doing a research paper on me.”

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Is it a crime to want to know my partner?”

A muscle worked in your jaw as you stared at him. He stared back, entirely unaffected. 

“If I humor you, will you actually work with me through this?”

Fiyero held up his hand. “Prince’s honor.”

Finally, you broke. You folded your arms with a short sigh then glanced away. “Fine. I’m from a tiny village in Gillikin that you’ve probably never heard of. I’m here on scholarship with the plan to graduate, become a historian, and make a name for myself.” You looked back at him. “Is that good enough for you?”

“It’s excellent,” Fiyero said with a smile. “Dare I say I’ve learned more about you in one short day than I have in the entirety of my time at Shiz?”

You gave him a fake smile as you tapped your book. “Open your textbook. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going to ask about me?”

“I mean this with all due respect—what could there possibly be to know about you?” You raised an eyebrow as you counted off on your fingers. “You’re from the Vinkus, you’re a prince, and you’ve never read a book a day in your life.” 

“Oh, that’s not true,” he chastised. “I’ve read at least one—I just choose not to.” 

“Well, how about we make that two?” You reached across the table and opened his book for him. “Unless that prince’s honor isn’t worth a thing.” 

“Oh, it’s worth everything,” Fiyero said. 

You raised your eyebrows expectantly. “Then prove it.” 

“Very well,” he nodded. “I believe I can be serious for the next… fifteen minutes.” 

“You won’t even get through a chapter,” you said. “Thirty.” 

Fiyero frowned. “You set awfully high expectations.” 

“Why do you think Doctor Dillamond forced me to help you?” you asked. 

“Because you’re oh so nice and charitable?”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. If you’d been looking closer, you would have seen Fiyero’s smile grow, his eyes soften. 

“Of course. Now, go to the glossary, find Ilara, and start writing. I know practically everything about her already, so you need to catch up.”

“I don’t have—”

You held out your extra notebook and fountain pen and cocked your head. “Don’t have what?”

Fiyero chuckled as he took them from you. “You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you said with a satisfied smile. “Now get reading, my prince.”

He pressed his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “At once, my lady.”

-

You looked at the clock on the wall. Fiyero should have been here by now. 

Granted, he was ten minutes late to your first meeting, but that was before he’d changed your expectations ever so slightly. Almost an hour had passed, and there was still no sign. 

Of course, it wasn’t as if it hindered your progress. You kind of always expected him to fall short—if he showed at all, that was a credit to him—so you already had half the outline done. But a small part of you that you’d never admit to might have actually been looking forward to his presence. 

You enjoyed the bout of verbal sparring he engaged you in. A lot of your classmates thought you were mean, and it never bothered you. Like you told Fiyero, you were here for one reason and one only, and the amount of people that liked you at university didn’t influence that at all. Your professors liked you and your grades were perfect—that was all. 

But you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t… nice. For Fiyero to take everything you said in stride, with a smile and a retort of equal measure.

It was nice. But that was all. 

You were jarred out of your thoughts by someone calling your name. You looked up to see Fiyero sauntering over, bearing his usual smile and not much else.

“This is a library,” you said once he got closer. “You aren’t supposed to shout.”

He took the seat across from you. “I’d hardly call that shouting.”

“You aren’t meant to be loud,” you decided. “Why are you so late?”

Fiyero shrugged. “I lost track of time?”

“You know, we are partners,” you emphasized your last word, “so it would be helpful if you could try to put in the same amount of effort as me.”

“That seems impossible.” He gestured at your notebook with his head, your current page already nearly full. “You’ve got me beat on nearly everything.”

“It’s not that difficult,” you intoned. “I mean, just do some research outside of class.”

He stared at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t know what I expect with you, honestly.”

“Exactly what you see, darling. Now,” Fiyero's gaze drifted over to the window, then looked back at you as he stood up, “what do you say we put a hold on things and enjoy this beautiful day?” 

Your brows furrowed. “What, you mean do our research outside?” 

“Is your work truly all you think about?” he asked in exasperation. “I mean leave the books and your notes and your stress here, and take a stroll around campus.” 

“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was ten years old,” you said. “Of course it is. I am not going to have some— some—”

“Some what?” Fiyero interrupted. He still looked remarkably unaffected by your outburst, that sideways smile of his infuriatingly charming. 

“Some ridiculous, pompous, self-absorbed, lazy Winkie prince ruin it!” you exclaimed. 

“Lazy,” he mused. “That’s a new one.” 

“Of course you’re lazy! Why would we take a break when we have a project to do?” 

Fiyero looked at you like you were crazy— no, like he was worried about you. He shook his head. “You really do have a one track mind.” 

“When we’re in midterm season, yes, I d— what are you doing?”

Fiyero had started stacking all of the books you had on the table away from you, then he grabbed your notebook and your pen out of your hand.

“You need a break,” he said. 

“I don’t need a break, and give that back—”

You reached for your materials but only just grazed his hand before he pulled them back and set them on top of the pile. “When was the last time you saw the sun?” 

You scoffed. “I see the sun all the time.” 

“Not from a window in the library or your dorm.” 

You bit your tongue. Fiyero smiled and held out his hand. 

“You need a break.” 

You stared at his hand. He gave you a cloying look. 

“It’s not a good sign that you’re this against self-care,” he said wryly. 

You sighed and reluctantly placed your hand in his. “Fine.”

Fiyero grinned and he pulled you close. You yelped at the unexpected speed and you tumbled into his chest. Fiyero’s hand dropped to your waist, and for a moment all you could do was stare at him, wide eyed. 

“Shall we?” he murmured. 

You jolted away from him once you came back into yourself, your skin burning where he’d touched you. 

“We shall,” you said, a bit too forcefully as you started walking a bit too fast. 

Fiyero chuckled. He matched your pace easily, soon coming up beside you. “You’re already that excited?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bit out. “You’ve already gotten what you want. No need for more.”

He feigned naivety. “What would I possibly be doing?”

You shook your head with a huff. “I’m not entertaining that with a response.”

Fiyero simply hummed. You glanced over at him, still staying even with you, and then you let out another huff as you stopped. He didn’t miss a beat, pausing at the same time as you, then met your flustered expression with a smile. 

“Yes?”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this,” you said, gesturing in front of you with a hand. “So lead the way.”

“Gladly,” he said. “I’m very good at taking the lead.”

Fiyero started walking and, though you had half a mind to take the opportunity and dart back to the library, you found yourself following him. 

Cora’s words spun around your head as you and Fiyero walked together, about him turning the full force of his flirting on you in return for you being such a stickler for your midterm. 

That was the embarrassing thing; you didn’t even think this was half of it, and he already had you blushing—and for what? It was as if you’d never even talked to a boy before. 

You’d had plenty of experience back home. Village boys coming into your parents’ store to flirt at you, leaving notes in your desk in class, offering to walk you home at night—plenty of experience. 

It didn’t matter that you denied them all and never went anywhere because you had a one track mind even then, and that Fiyero had done what no one else had and gotten you take a break simply because he asked nicely—

You sucked in a sharp breath as Fiyero’s arm suddenly pressed against your chest, stopping you in place. Your head snapped up to look at him, mouth already open with questions loaded, but he gestured with his head before you could ask any of them. 

You’d nearly barreled right down the stairs from being lost in your head, without care nor consideration for actually taking the steps. 

“Mind the gap, darling,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you damaging that brain of yours.”

“…Thank you,” you said once you’d regained the ability to speak words again. “One of us ought to have one.”

Fiyero laughed as he took his arm away. “Certainly.” He used it to gesture down the stairs. “Ladies first��unless you’re unsure of your ability to conquer them.”

“I’ll be just fine, Fiyero.” You started the descent, Fiyero right behind you, and you let out another short sigh. 

There had to be something wrong with you. That was the only explanation for why you were acting this way.

Maybe you really did need to start getting more sleep. 

[livvyofthelake]

have a new project to film and we wanted to do it tomorrow and didn't do anything on it for the past week because we just planned to and thought we would do it tomorrow. and now that plan is falling apart. lol.

[shadowkoo]

Just Dance It Off

→ Summary: You're over the moon when you land the female lead in the end-of-semester show. It feels like your hard work has finally paid off, everything is going great. Well, until you learn who your partner is…

↠ jimin x f.reader | 9.5k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, angst, fluff, ballet dancers au, enemies to lovers, performing arts college au

→ Warnings: explicit and unprotected sex, jealousy, masturbation, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, use of fake ID, mild exhibitionism, creampie, hair pulling, angry sex, nipple play, degradation, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple smut scenes, heavy teasing & banter, edging, orgasm denial, light choking

→ Author Note: This is a rewrite of an old 2019 fic of mine, so I hope you enjoy the newest version! If you’d like to read this on ao3 instead it’s been crossposted here! Also a biiiiiiig thank you so Sarah @caelesjjk for beta editing this for me. Go show her some love if you aren't already following her! As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

“Oh, no,” you hear one of the dancers behind you whisper to another, “Look who’s walking in.”

Your curiosity gets the best of you as you casually stretch, your eyes betraying you by glancing over your shoulder toward the door, dying to see who they’re talking about. You recognize him almost immediately and the whispers continue to grow about the slender male who is walking across the room to set his stuff down.

Park Jimin.

Of course, he would be auditioning for this show. It’s his final semester, and you really should have seen this coming. Especially since you knew he was bound to get whatever position he was auditioning for. That’s a given.

Park Jimin always gets whatever he wants in life; whether that be a specific role in a performance, who his performance partners are both on the stage…and in the bedroom, that sort of thing. He’s the most pretentious person you’ve ever met, seeing as he acts like he is God’s gift to the dance world, and you’re already dreading any interaction you’ll have with him.

Rumor has it that his daddy, former dancer and sponsor, paid his way into Juilliard, but as much as you hate to admit it, he (unfortunately) happens to be very talented and you doubt the school didn’t already have something lined up for him, regardless of who his family is. Unlike you, who was on the waitlist for two months and had to take out a loan worth more than your life to attend this school.

Your eyes meet his and Jimin does a once-over before moving onto the people to your left. What a prick.

“Y/N!” a voice yells from the entryway. Your familiar, freckled, redheaded best friend is quickly prancing towards you.

“I’m so happy to see you here,” Catalina squeals before hugging you tightly. “What part are you auditioning for? Please tell me it’s lead. God, I miss you. It sucks that we don’t have any classes together this semester. How are you?”

You hug your petite friend back, “I miss you too! Please tell me that you’re not also auditioning for lead, I don’t want to be judged against you. Your pirouettes are perfect compared to my lousy ones.”

Her laugh echoes through the room. “Apparently you didn’t hear about my recent tumble,” she jokes, bumping her shoulder into yours. “I’ll gladly be in the background after my solo-gone-wrong.”

“Alright, everyone!” One of the male judges calls out, walking past the lineup of dancers to collect everyone’s entry form. “We’ll start with the routine you were required to memorize as a group, and then it will be individual evaluations after. Make sure your numbers are secured and let’s line up outside the door.”

After taking your place and getting into position with the rest of the packed room, you wait for the cue to begin. The routine is short and simple, and years of practice have made some of the required moves second nature.

Before you know it, the judges are escorting people out the door for the individual sessions.

You're about twentieth in line, right behind Cat. That makes you a bit nervous because, even though she’s not auditioning for the lead role, her impressive skills might land her a more prominent part than the one she’s aiming for.

Everyone else is quietly chatting in line while you do your best to relax, working through your routine in your mind. This is one of your pre-audition rituals. It always helps with easing your nerves.

By the time you finish running through a couple of full-outs in your head, you’re second in line. You wish Cat good luck as she’s ushered into the dance studio. Her five minutes go by almost too quickly, but she exits with a happy smile.

“Hey, good luck! Kill it, okay?”

You nod, quickly following after the woman who calls your name next.

“Miss Y/N, it says here that you’re auditioning for the female lead. As a sophomore?” Mr. Jenson, one of your dance professors and judge, questions. You prepared for this. It’s very uncommon for an underclassman to try out for such a prestigious role.

“Yes, sir. That’s correct.” You hold your head high.

“Well, I have to say I’m quite impressed with your confidence. Whenever you’re ready.”

You wait for the familiar beginning notes of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz Of The Flowers to play before flying effortlessly through your well-practiced routine. You’re banking on the emotional state of your dancing along with the technical moves you’ve included to impress the judges, and based on their faces when you finish, you figure you did just that. You can’t help but grin widely as you watch the four of them scribble furiously onto the sheets of paper. That’s a really good sign.

“I have to say, I was a little thrown off in the beginning by your song choice since it’s so, hmm, how do I say this, so amateur. But I was very surprised by what you chose to express and the level at which you dance,” the first judge says.

“Yes, the lines you created with your body were very exquisite,” another praises.

You nodded, taking in their advice and criticism.

“Thank you, Miss Y/N, you may exit.” Mr. Jenson says with a smile.

As soon as you step out the door and exhale, you feel a sense of relief. The excitement of your successful audition courses through you, filling you with good energy.

You find Cat stretching in the warm-up room next door.

“Oh my god, you got it. Didn’t you?” She squeals the second she sees your face.

“I don’t know…” You have a pretty good idea based on their responses and comments but aren’t positive.

“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes, “That’s your ’I just nailed my audition’ face. You totally got it.”

“I hope so. God, wouldn’t that be so insane? When was the last time an underclassman got the lead?”

Someone behind you scoffs; you look over your shoulder and see that it’s Jimin. Your eyes narrow at him, but Cat turns you back before you go off on him. “Not worth it, the rest of us seniors think it’s great that you’re trying for a top spot. How about we go get a drink from the vending machine while we wait?”

You nod before grabbing your warm-up bag and follow her out. “I can’t believe him. He’s so stuck up,” You grumble once you’re far enough away that no one but Cat can hear you.

“He’s always like that, just be thankful that you don’t share any classes with him.”

You’ve heard that Jimin is usually the center of attention in class, whether it’s his choice or not, so you can’t imagine being stuck in one with him. It sounds like it would be impossible to get good feedback if the teachers only care about him.

After you both buy the drinks that you want, you head back. The line is smaller but it will still be at least a half-hour until everyone has had their turn. You sigh impatiently and head back into the warm-up room.

Deciding to sit along the mirrored wall, you rummage through your bag to find a pair of headphones and put your favorite playlist on shuffle while you wait. Even though it feels like half the day goes by while you’re sitting there waiting, it’s really only been about an hour.

Everyone’s attention lands on Madam Jamie, one of the contemporary dance professors, when she asks everyone to re-enter the audition room.

“Okay,” she starts once everyone gets in line, “Those whose numbers I am about to call, please step forward. Dancers eleven, one fifty-three, one forty-seven, seventeen, thirty-eight, twenty-two, and one ten.”

Cat gives you a concerned look as she steps forward without you.

“Seventy-two, fifteen, sixty-eight, thirty, thirty-four, eighty-two, one twenty-one–” you step forward and sigh in relief once she spoke your number. Tuning out the rest of the numbers called, you smile at Cat as she reaches for your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“Everyone else, I’m sorry to inform you that you have not been selected. Thank you for your time,” She finishes, resting her clipboard against her chest.

Those who didn’t make the cut are escorted out as Mr. Jenson stands up to make an announcement.

“I have everyone’s part listed here,” He shakes the paper in his hand. “It’ll be left on this table for you all to look over. However, I want to first congratulate you all. We are excited to have this much talent for the semester’s exhibition show. We have some great things planned and cannot wait to get started with you all. Please take note of our rehearsal schedule. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Eight to noon. Most of you should not have conflicting schedules as all dance classes are held in the afternoon anyway, although if you do have a problem just stay after and we can work it out. Madam Jamie and I will see you back here Monday morning. Dismissed.”

You and Cat both wait until more people clear out of the room before you have the guts to read the paper.

Catalina Wilde - Corps de ballet

Your eyes wander across the page as you search for your name.

Y/N - Lead Female Soloist

Turning towards each other, you squeal “Oh my god,” at the same time.

“I can’t believe it. We both got what we wanted,” you excitedly rush out.

“I know, this never happens. Oh, I’m so excited!” She reaches for your hand and squeezes it again, picking up the paper with her other hand.

“Oh, no.” She turns the paper towards you, “Look who your partner is.”

Park Jimin - Lead Male Soloist

You huff, “Of course, I’m not surprised.” You turn your head and search the mostly-empty room for him. You have a feeling he’s still here, it’s like you can sense his presence.

“Cat! You coming?” the group of dancers near the door asks.

“Shoot, I’ve got to head to my next session. I’ll see you later, okay?” Cat says, giving you a quick hug as she runs out the door.

Leaving just you and Jimin.

Deciding to let go of your prejudice against Jimin, you figure the best move would be to congratulate him on getting the part he auditioned for.

He watches blankly from the mirrored wall as you walk towards him.

Once in front of him, you stick your hand out. “Hey congrats, I’m looking forward to–” you begin before he rudely cuts you off by holding up his hand.

“Yeah, whatever,” he sneers, “We need to take this extremely seriously so I expect you to be at our rehearsals an hour early so we can get in extra time,” he looks you over again, “From what I can tell you’re gonna need it.”

“Also,” apparently he isn’t finished, “I expect that you’ll be taking care of your diet from here on out since I’m going to be lifting you and I don’t want my arms to give out, or worse, snap.”

“Well, you can always go to the gym and work on that yourself,” you say defensively. What a jerk.

“So can you, sweetheart.”

“Uh, wow. Okay…” Here you are trying to congratulate him and here he is treating you like dirt. “Guess the rumors are true,” you mutter as you shift your duffel strap further up your shoulder, turning to leave.

“Excuse me?” Well, shit. He wasn’t supposed to hear that part. You look him in the eyes without showing any regret for your previous statement.

His eyes narrow at you, clearly not liking your RBF, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Sorry.” However, you aren’t.

“You know,” he remarks, “I don’t care about what you’ve heard about me or what you think about me. I care if you’re going to be too immature for this role and if that’s the case I’ll have no trouble replacing you.” He follows you out the audition room.

Oh boy, you’re pissed now. You turn around and get right in his face.

“What the fuck? In case you haven’t noticed, you aren’t in charge here. Just because you’re a senior and I’m a sophomore doesn’t make you any better than me,” you bark while shoving a finger in his chest.

“Secondly, I don’t need to believe the rumors because you’ve just proven them to be true. You’re an ass to all of your partners to the point that they don’t want to dance with you so you can,” you lift up your hands to finger quote this next part, “Pick who you think is good enough.”

You scoff, “Well, here’s a fun fact dickwad. I’m not going anywhere. The judges chose me and I fully intend on dancing as the female lead in the show. So get the fuck over yourself ‘cause you’re about to be seeing a lot of me in these next few months. Got it?“

"Fine,” he huffs, pushing past you.

“Fine!” you snap, turning away from him and heading towards your next class. Now that you're thoroughly annoyed and not in the mood for your next class, which happens to be a two-hour lecture on the history of interpretive dance, you sigh and get moving before you’re late.

The first two weeks of ‘rehearsals’ are spent training, just at a higher level than you’re used to. However, you hide it well. You’ve been making sure to keep up with the upperclassmen because you know that you are, unfortunately, replaceable if Madam Jamie or Mr. Jenson deems it necessary.

It doesn’t matter that your thighs feel like they are on fire, or that your calves might be ripping at every bend and arch you make. You’re going to complete the one hundred pliés just like everyone else without a single complaint.

Jimin must have taken your last conversation to heart, or he’s exceptionally good at masking his feelings if your words bothered him, because he’s been an excellent partner all week. Although, you know you aren’t going to grow a typical relationship with him as you did with all of the other partners you have had over the years. You’ve been friends, good friends, even, with your previous partners, something you know is never going to happen with Jimin.

He doesn’t do small talk. He really doesn’t have much to say at all other than pointing out when you are making a mistake. No good comments, nor praise–not that you’re expecting any–but it would have been nice to hear him say that he is impressed with how well you’re keeping up with him.

It’s Friday of the second week, which means that it’s the last day of the training period aka hell week, thankfully. You’re dying to get started on learning the actual program. You aren’t looking forward to Jimin’s request of showing up an hour earlier than everyone else this next week, but even though you hate to admit it, the extra time will end up benefiting you.

Today also happens to be the day the choreographer is coming in. You’ve heard the whispers throughout the school this week, everyone trying to guess who it’s going to be.

And after seeing who Madam Jamie walks into the studio with, you’re so happy to see that they were all wrong.

“O-oh my–ohmygod,” you bumble and did a double-take. It couldn’t be, could it?

The brown curls hung gorgeously on the tall man’s head and you internally drool at how much better looking he is in person. He’s so tan, so fit, so delicious–

“Can you concentrate?” Jimin grumbles in annoyance, pulling you out of your slightly inappropriate thoughts. You’re doing partner stretches, which does require some level of focus, but not enough that you have to look away from the literal Italian God who stood a mere six feet away. “What’s your deal anyway? We’re supposed to be preparing our muscles for the toughest training session yet and you’re over there stuttering like a fool.”

You scoff at him and lower your voice, “Don’t you know who that is?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Does it look like I care?” He mutters, pushing the backside of your thigh towards your torso.

“You can’t be serious,” you exasperate. “That’s Luca Black! You know, one of the most famous choreographers in the dance world right now. I can’t believe you don’t see how big of a deal this is.”

“The only thing I care about right now is making sure your hamstrings are loose so you don’t kick me in the face when we’re dancing.”

Now there’s an idea…

“Alright, everyone! Front and center please,” Mr. Jenson announces as he walks in the door, right on time as usual.

“Dancers, I would like you to meet Mr. Black, your choreographer. I expect you all to treat him with the same level of respect that you give me and Madam Jamie.”

“Oh please,” Mr. Black says, stepping forward, “You can all call me Luca.” His smile hits the heart of every girl in the class, and even a few of the guys. “I am looking forward to working with you all to make this performance one to remember. Can we get into a lineup to start?”

Everyone moves into the typical sequence based on each person’s position of where they belong. Which meant that you and Jimin were dead center with Luca’s eyes right on you.

You swallow slowly when he walks towards the two of you. “You must be Y/N. Mr. Jenson has told me quite a lot about you. I have to say, I am most excited to work with a dancer like you.”

Jimin is perplexed that Luca went straight to you. If anything, he’s the better dancer here and he doesn’t quite understand why a sophomore is getting so much attention. He’s nearly sick to his stomach listening to the nauseating conversation that you two are having.

“It’s an honor to have you working with us Mr. Black,” you say in awe as you shake his hand.

“Luca,” he corrects before lifting your hand to kiss it, “And the pleasure is most definitely all mine.”

“Sorry,” you pant, rushing through the door. “I know I’m a couple of minutes late. I couldn’t find parking. Why is it so freaking busy? It’s barely seven.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” Jimin says ignoring your question. You bite your tongue and get straight into your morning stretches.

“What do you want to work on today?” you ask, knowing what he is going to say after you’re warmed up. For the past three weeks, you and Jimin have been dedicating extra time to perfecting scene two's Pas De Deux.

It’s the only section of this scene where you’re both completely alone on stage and Jimin is dead-set on making it nothing less than perfect. He reasons that just because you are the only two people on stage doesn’t mean that the audience’s attention is a given, you need to earn it.

Which is a very on-brand thing for Jimin to say.

“Do you really need to ask?” He snickers with a playful smile plastered to his face.

“Nevermind then,” you banter back, joining him as he finishes stretching.

You’ve surprisingly gotten pretty comfortable with Jimin after spending more time with him. Dancing with him is mostly fun, besides when he calls you out on your mistakes…repeatedly. But even then, you know he tries to mean well. You both have to be the best or the other will end up looking like a fool–which (you assume) neither of you want to happen.

Knowing that you’re almost halfway through the semester is a little terrifying. All the dancers have been making great progress and everything is coming together seamlessly, but you can’t help but feel the nervousness set in.

You take a deep breath and clear your thoughts, getting nervous right now will do you no good. Thankfully, when you start dancing your mind settles and you’re able to concentrate on your performance. 

Well, that is, until Jimin drops you during the lift. You might have understood the mistake if he hadn’t done it three times prior.

“Get up.” He holds his hand out for you, pulling you to your feet. “We need to get this number down, you know how important it is.”

“I’m aware of that,” you hiss. “But it would be nice if you weren’t letting me fall every two seconds.” You rub your aching side and stretch to see if that helps ease the pain.

“Just dance it off, you’ll be fine.” Jimin walks over to his stuff along the wall, before bending down to grab his water bottle.

You scowl. “Stop being ridiculous and hold me properly. I don’t have teeth anywhere down there,” you say motioning to the space between your legs. “You can put your hand where it belongs without worry, you know.”

Jimin blushes as soon as he hears your words, he turns away quickly before you notice. Yes, it’s technically his fault that you keep falling. It isn’t intentional, but he can’t help it. Especially when he can feel the warmth of your center from where his hand is resting when he goes in for the lift.

The thought of other parts of him being this close to your heat is driving him crazy and yeah, he may have faltered, which yeah, may have caused you to crash down once…twice. Okay, maybe three times. Or four?

It doesn’t matter. He’s so hyper-focused on why he’s thinking about you like this at all. You’re attractive, he already knew that. But this new-found thought of wanting to take you hard and fast, right here in the studio is something else. It comes from deep within, and he can’t decide if he wants to squash the idea completely or let it lead to something wild.

Jimin shakes his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts just long enough for you to both get through these next ten minutes before the rest of the crew arrives for rehearsal. “Alright, let’s go again.”

You get into position, Jimin falling behind you. You try to hold still but his breath tickles your neck while you wait for the music cue.

The motions are practically natural to you at this point, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself in case you fall again.

You rapidly suck in air when you feel Jimin’s fingers press deep into your inner thigh this time as he lifts you. They are incredibly close, much closer than they were last time.

You won’t ever admit to it, but your mind is overflowing with dirty thoughts of Jimin’s fingers somewhere else. Particularly somewhere that would have you writhing within seconds.

Those thoughts are distracting, and you’re late for your cue to jump down. And somehow instead of jumping, your body twists around in a weird way as your head dives down toward the ground below you. Tensing, you brace for the impact that doesn’t come.

Unexpectedly, Jimin manages to catch you before any damage happens, and he quickly pulls you up, as if you were never upside down to begin with. His arms are wrapped right below your butt, causing your head to be directly above his. How on earth it got there, you have no idea.

But you aren’t questioning it. Adrenaline runs wild through your body, and you cling to him as if your life depends on it. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, scared that you still might fall somehow.

Your faces are only a few inches apart in this position, which allows you to see how soft and smooth Jimin’s lips look. You slowly lick yours as he lowers you down to the ground, keeping the same amount of distance, or lack thereof, between you two. The realization that it would be so easy to kiss him right now has set in and you swear Jimin has the same mad thoughts; especially when he’s gripping your hips this tightly.

What you both don’t realize is that outside of the main doors, the rest of the dancers are watching with wide eyes and shocked faces. If it weren't for the unmistakable red hair you see in the mirror's reflection, who knows what might have happened? You don’t think about it, instead, you pull away and play it off before heading toward your bag to grab a drink.

“Morning everyone! What are we all waiting for?” Luca says from behind the dancers, “Let’s go in and get warmed up.”

He opens the door and sees you and Jimin at opposite ends of the room, each taking big gulps from your water bottles. Interesting…

Cat walks in and sets her stuff down next to Jimin’s and silently watches him. His face is flushed but she can’t tell if it was because of the intense moment you two just shared, or from the strain of the lifting sequence. She was the first to notice the look you two shared before the crowd outside the door, and she has a weird feeling about it.

Last she knew you were still fighting with Jimin during your pre-practices, although she’s very aware of the saying ’there’s a fine line between love and hate’. Cat makes a mental note to ask you about this morning’s situation later.

The first half of practice is weird, to say the least. Jimin is treating you like nothing happened. And while technically nothing happened, something almost did and you don’t know how you felt about the something.

Needless to say, you aren’t on top of your dance game today. It’s hard to concentrate with your head filled with empty-answered questions and even more confusion.

“Okay, everyone,” Luca echoes, stealing every dancer’s attention, “Let’s take five. When we reconvene we’ll do a recap of Scenes One through Three with no breaks. If we can get it down we’ll move onto the beginning of Scene Four today.”

You and Jimin happily turn in opposite directions, grateful for some space.

“Y/N, can you stay back? There’s something I want to go over with you,” Luca calls out, stopping you from heading in the direction of Cat and some of the other girls.

Oh no. That’s never a good sign.

“Don’t worry, you’re not doing anything wrong,” he says after seeing your smile falter. “I just see a little room for improvement with the last sequence before the song changes in scene three.”

He gestures for you to get into position in front of him, which you do without hesitation.

Luca moves closer to you and rests a hand on your lower back, “Tighten here and stretch.” He shows you how to position your body to make it look more elegant and elongated. “See how much longer you look now?” His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “Hold yourself like this through the rest of the dance. Trust me when I say you’ll notice a difference. So will everyone else.”

A blush creeps up your neck when his hand slides across your hip before he steps away from you, “Thank you for the tip.”

His eyes burn into yours, and you feel the heat growing in your lower stomach. “Anytime, Y/N.” His lips turned into a small smile, which you returned.

Jimin stalks silently as Luca touches you, his anger bubbling deep down inside him. Fuck, he doesn’t exactly want you, but he definitely doesn’t want anyone else to have you either. And he sure as hell doesn’t want Luca touching you like that or giving you those looks; looks that have disguised intentions with ulterior motives behind them.

He wants to tell Luca where to go and how to get there, but he knows better. Not only would it be unprofessional as hell, but Jimin would probably be screwed out of a lot of future events if he tells one of the best choreographers to fuck off.

He forces himself to look away and takes another deep breath, calming down a little before part two of rehearsals starts.

The second half of rehearsals ends sooner than expected, and Jimin storms off before you even have the chance to talk to him about this morning. You sigh, your eyes trailing his fast exit.

“Y/N! I’m heading to the vending machine for a granola bar, want to come with me?” Cat asks. You’re sure that her question has a hidden agenda too, but you go along with it anyway since you’re starving and need to eat something small before your next class.

“Sure, just give me a second to switch out of my pointe shoes.” You don’t like to wear yours for walking since they’re new and still stiff.

“So,” Catalina begins, watching you put the money into the machine. “What was that this morning? And don’t you dare try to say it was just dancing, because I’ve seen 'just dancing’ with Jimin and that was not at all what I saw earlier.”

You groan internally, not wanting to deal with her interrogation. Cat isn’t the type to judge you if you told her that you would’ve fucked Jimin right then if it wasn’t for the fact that you noticed her (and the rest of the dancers). But you don’t want to admit it to yourself.

Saying it and thinking it are two very different things, and you aren’t sure you can come to terms with saying that you want to fuck Jimin. Hell, you have no idea if you will feel the same way in an hour. So you choose to keep it to yourself for now.

“Did something happen between you two?” she asks bluntly.

“No, nothing happened between us.”

“And is that a good or bad thing?” she questions next.

“Good,” you huff, “I think…”

It’s been another busy few weeks, and things have been going great…until today. To be honest, this is probably the worst dance day you’ve had in years.

“I’m sorry guys, let’s start from the top,” you apologize again for messing up. The scene you’re going over today isn’t complicated by any means, it’s only a transition scene. But your head is elsewhere which, in turn, makes you mess up every couple of seconds.

You're not getting many approving looks from the room. Luca is a little worried, Madam Jamie has pursed lips, and the dancers are severely annoyed with you.

“No, Miss Y/N.  Stop before you hurt yourself.” Mr. Jenson lets out a frustrated sigh. “Kyra, would you stand in for Y/N and show her how it’s properly done?”

You’re embarrassed that it’s gotten to this point. What is with you? You’ve done this sequence perfectly with Jimin this past week, hundreds of times at least. Now with the extra dancers on the floor, you seem to be forgetting it all.

Taking soft, shallow breaths is the only thing keeping you from crying in front of everyone. But they wouldn’t notice. All eyes are glued to Kyra, a senior who had also auditioned for the same role as you, as she dances with Jimin.

They dance beautifully, you can’t deny it, even if you want to. You can’t help but wonder if she would’ve been the better choice for the female lead.

“Thank you, Kyra. Everyone back into position now.”

Kyra walks past you and smirks. You know she’s thinking the same thing that you are. She probably also thinks that she’s capable of sweeping in and stealing your position. Like hell if you’re going to let that happen.

Even so, it’s not your decision to make and you know if you keep screwing this up it’s more than likely to happen.

“Hey, are you okay? What’s your deal?” Jimin whispers once he lines up with you again. The last thing you need is for him to make you feel worse for fucking up.

“I don’t know, it’s not a good day for me,” you whisper back as your eyes fill with tears. You’re completely exhausted, defeated, and disappointed.

“Just dance it off, we all get days like this. Follow my lead, okay? I promise I won’t let you mess up again.”

You nod, blinking back your tears. This is a different side of Jimin than you’re used to. He’s caring and knows exactly what to say to make you feel better.

After shaking off the earlier mishaps, you get yourself together and push through practice, making sure that the first official run-through of the program is a total success. It makes you feel a hell of a lot better than two hours earlier. You can tell that the rest of the group is just as ecstatic as you and Jimin are.

“That was great, Y/N!” he says, pulling you into a comforting hug. “See, all you needed was a little reassurance.”

You’re slightly sad when he pulls back, the warmth of his body is no longer felt. “Thank you for today. I would’ve completely fallen apart without you.”

“Hey don’t worry about it, make sure you get some rest this weekend. See you Monday!” He smiles softly and waves bye. Who knew Jimin had more to him than what everyone else saw?

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turn your head and see Madison, one of the upperclassmen who’s also in the show, walking toward you.

“What are you doing tonight? Some of the girls and I are planning on going out to celebrate our first successful run-through of the show. We’re wondering if you’d like to come?” She leans in a little closer, “We have a fake you can use to get into our favorite club, Wander. We’d love for you to let loose with us.”

Usually, you would turn down any interaction that involves alcohol, especially since you’re underage, but you don’t want to disappoint your potential new friends. Plus it does sound like a lot of fun, and after the practice you just had, you deserve to let loose and relax.

“Yeah, totally! I’d love to come.” Madison smiles and you both trade numbers.

“Okay cool, I’ll text you my address later. We’re gonna get ready at mine before we head out. See you later!” She gives you a quick hug before heading out the door.

You’re secretly excited to hang out with the older girls since you don’t have many other friends in your year. Especially not now with all your free time taken up by rehearsals.

Jimin stands outside the dance studio’s side door, slyly eavesdropping. He makes a mental note to accidentally run into you later. He isn’t sure what’s gotten into him, but he doesn’t want to go without seeing you for two days.

You intrigue him, and after your almost-kiss, Jimin wants to know what your lips feel like for real this time, not just what he has been imagining.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks over the pounding music. You have no idea what to ask for; you obviously don’t drink and ordering something from the bar is a little out of your comfort zone since you don’t know what you’re doing.

Madison catches on and takes over. “Five shots of tequila for our group!” she yells while leaning over the bartop so he can hear her.

Oh boy, you don’t know much but you know enough to feel safe assuming tonight will be wild if you’re starting with shots, of all things.

With about a month left until the show, deciding to let loose with the girls is exactly the kind of break you need. Dancing, drinks, and good friends. Looking around, you’re happy to see that you have all three. It’s all a part of tonight’s plan.

What you don’t plan for, however, is seeing Jimin in the middle of the dance floor with Kyra all over him. After practice today, this is a total slap in the face.

You aren’t sure if the progress you’ve been making with Jimin is just one-sided, or if you had been imagining it this whole time. It feels like you’re both taking two steps forward in the right direction and then something like this will happen, sending you ten steps back.

Your eyes are glued to Kyra’s body as she dances with him, her hips moving at the perfect speed. You can’t help but be jealous of her. Not only is she gorgeous and a great dancer, but she also has a way of demanding everyone’s attention in any room she graces. Although, there’s only one person’s attention you want right now, and from what it looks like, you doubt you’ll be getting his anytime soon.

“Oh my god, is that Luca?” Catalina asks with a surprised tone, pointing towards the opposite end of the bar, “No way, it can’t be.”

“It is,” you laugh nervously before looking away. You’re a little worried that he might remember that you’re under the legal drinking age, only by a year, but still. How embarrassing would it be for him to get you kicked out…

“That’ll be $42,” the bartender drones, pushing the over-spilling shot glasses toward your group and happily taking whichever girls’ fifty-dollar bill in return.

You lift your glass along with the others, “Here’s to letting go and having fun!”

The tequila burns the back of your throat but that doesn’t stop you from hollering, “Let’s go dance!”

You pull Madison and Catalina onto the dance floor, coming to an abrupt stop when your back collides with someone., “Oh my gosh, I am so sor–” You pause and stare at the dark-haired man, “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi ladies, I hope you’re not getting into too much trouble tonight,” Luca jokes with a wide smile displayed across his face. He looks gorgeous dressed in all black, the leather jacket tops off his outfit.

“Oh of course not, Mr. Black,” Catalina giggles playfully, “We’re all good girls here.”

He raises his eyebrow which makes each of you giggle, “I’m not so sure about that. Can I buy you all a drink? Or is that a little weird?”

You look around at the girls; they do the same.

“Uh, sure? Madison finally says, breaking up the awkward silence.

Cat and one of her friends entertain Luca’s conversation while they wait at the bar. You slyly peek over your shoulder while dancing, looking for you-know-who. You can’t find him, but you’re happy to see that Kyra has moved on to her next man of the night.

"Hey,” Luca says, walking towards you with an extra drink in hand. “Here you go. Shhh, it’s our little secret,” he says humorously.

You thank him for the drink, nervously swirling the ice with the slim black straw in your cup.

“I’m happy I ran into you,” he begins, “Can I talk to you for a second, alone?”

“Oh, uh, sure!” You nod to Cat, silently saying that you’ll catch up with her later. He smiles and pulls you aside from your friends.

“What’s up?” You ask tensely while Luca grins, running a hand through his hair.

“I just want to tell you how impressed I’ve been with your progress so far, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you at rehearsals.”

Oh my god.

“Really?” You gape.

“Absolutely,” he reaches for your hand, bringing you closer to him before bending down to plant his lips on yours. You freeze as he kisses you gently, entirely unsure of what to do in that situation.

He quickly pulls back after reading your body language, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Luca,” you say curtly, taking a step back, “I appreciate your tips in class and kind comments, but I think we should keep things professional here. You’re the choreographer and I’m a student...”

“Of course, I apologize again. How about I walk you back to your friends and we forget this happened?”

“That would be perfect.” You’re thankful that things don’t seem too awkward, and you only hope things will stay that way when you see each other Monday morning.

Jimin’s fingernails dig into the flesh of his palms as he clenches his fists. Fucking Luca Black. He was heading your way to say hi, but Luca led you in a different direction than the one your friends are heading to. He should have known better, but he follows behind slowly. And what he sees when he finally turns the corner doesn’t sit right with him.

Luca’s hand on your cheek as the two of you kiss. Jimin isn’t exactly sure who initiated it. And even though it’s eating him alive, he doesn’t want to know because it pains him either way.

He watches as Luca pulls away, and takes note of your stunned face. Jimin wants to believe that was because you didn’t enjoy it. He can’t hear what you’re talking about, and he truly wants to believe that Luca is making you uncomfortable based on your reaction to the kiss. But that hopeful thought is squashed as soon as you smile and take Luca’s hand, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.

Jimin is still trying to process what he just witnessed even though you’re both long gone. He steps out of the shadows and throws his drink at the wall, ignoring the sound of the glass breaking behind him. Grumbling under his breath, Jimin takes the closest exit and slams the club door behind him.

He heads home with the hopes that a cold shower will ease his rage, but the cool water running down his back isn’t doing much for his boiling blood, nor is it getting rid of the image of Luca’s lips on yours. And inevitably, he can’t get you out of his head either which in turn results in him masturbating to those thoughts of you … which is anything but calming.

Jimin closes his eyes and imagines that it’s him kissing you, not Luca, and that he’s the one who has you pushed up against the wall. He can practically hear your soft whimpers, the ones you make when you’re doing partner stretches that always have him close to losing it right there in front of everyone at rehearsals.

But it isn’t him who’s stretching with you. His length quivers in his hand as he speeds up, trying to change his thoughts to you aroused in the club bathroom, his hand sliding underneath your dress and slipping into your panties. Jimin throws his head back at the image of you getting all worked up, but once again, it isn’t him that’s driving you wild. It’s Luca.

After the fifth attempt and still failing to picture himself with you, Jimin gives up. He groans, looking down at his length’s angry red tip that’s aching for release. And there’s only one thing that will give him that. You.

But not an imaginary you. The real you. The real you wanting him just as much as he wants you. He doubts that you ever will, not when you can have Luca instead.

Meaning that Jimin is basically screwed.

Monday is a killer. Jimin has been hateful to you all morning, and you genuinely have no idea why. He seems to be fuming now at the end of rehearsals, compared to the quiet angry vibe he was giving off earlier this morning.

“Hey, great job today Y/n. You’re doing phenomenal. I can’t wait to see this all come to life next week. See you tomorrow!”

“Thanks! Yes, see you tomorrow Luca.” You wave bye while he rushes out of the room, leaving just you and Jimin behind.

Jimin waits until Luca is out of earshot before saying anything. He’s been annoyed all day by your and Luca’s behavior after witnessing the two of you making out in the hallway of Wander.

He’s disgusted, even more so by the afterthoughts of Luca bringing you back to his place and taking advantage of you. Needless to say, he didn’t sleep much this weekend.

“God, you’re such a suck-up,” he criticizes, failing to hold back his evil words. “How special do you think you’re going to feel when the paid help you’re boning doesn’t remember your name the second he moves on to the next school and finds a new student to seduce?”

“Excuse me?”

“You can pretend all you want but I saw you Friday night. With him.”

Oh god…

You shake your head, “Jimin, I can explain–”

“Whatever, waitlist. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” He turns around and internally grimaces, upsetting you isn’t what he was going for. He’s pissed and unfortunately, you’re the only person he can take it out on. It’s a dick move to say things like that, especially since you deserve to be here just as much as everyone else.

Jimin knows he should just let it go, but he can’t help it. It’s been eating him alive all day. He’s pissed that you’re acting like a damn fool because of Luca’s attention. Luca’s eyes hadn’t left your body the entire day.

Fucking perv.

Jimin is more pissed that it’s bothering him so much. He shouldn’t care, he doesn’t–or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Jimin’s words stung, and you’re shaking out of pure anger. “What the fuck is your problem? I can handle the normal stick-up-your-ass behavior but it’s on a whole new level today. Chill out, okay? It isn’t what you think. Nothing happened after he kissed me. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but it actually made me, like, super uncomfortable and he apologized directly after. We both agreed it wasn’t professional, so piss off Jimin. And even if I did decide to take it further with Luca, it wouldn’t concern you. So stay out of it.” You’re near him when you finish, with crossed arms and eyes glaring.

It’s unbelievable Jimin would make such a comment; the last thing you need is for him to start telling people what he saw.

You know you would be harshly reprimanded for using a fake ID to get into a club, but also for accepting a drink from someone who is a teacher, and especially for kissing that same teacher.

Jimin is just as heated as you are. So his intuition was right that night. His anger only grows, wanting to punch Luca over and over again for making you uncomfortable like that. How could Luca not tell that you weren’t actually into him, but rather idolized him for his contributions to the dance world? How dare he use that against you to pull a move like that?

“Fine,” he growls in your face, totally furious at the situation, and furious with himself for caring this much about it–about you. You’re driving him crazy, even now when you’re pissed with him. It turns him on how strong and defensive you always are, and fuck, he wants to do something about it.

“Fine,” you snap back, taking another step forward as your eyes subconsciously lower to his parted mouth.

In a matter of milliseconds, your lips collide and your hands are all over each other’s bodies. He lifts you into his arms and slams your back into the mirrors. It’s a miracle that they don’t shatter from his force.

You gasp at the contact and Jimin takes the opportunity to shove his tongue further into your mouth. Your legs lock around his waist while you continue to explore each other’s mouths and bodies ravenously.

Jimin pulls away and tugs your leotard down your arms, freeing your breasts from the tight compression.

“You’re so fucking annoying, do you know that?” He snarls before leaving a line of rough kisses along your neck and down your chest. You whimper at the sensation and run your fingers through his hair.

“You’re so fucking loud, do you always have to say so much?” You moan in response.

Jimin is starved for your taste and can’t wait any longer. His hands travel down your side while his lips close over one of your soft peaks, sucking it in between his teeth.

You mewl, crashing your head back against the glass from the sheer amount of pleasure.

Jimin abruptly pulls away and brings his face back in front of yours. “What? Do you have something to say?” he asks with fire in his eyes. But with his lips replaced by his fingers, twisting and tugging, you’re helplessly tongue-tied.

He moves one hand lower and another soft moan escapes your lips, his middle finger dancing dangerously above your panties before dipping into your slickened folds.

Jimin knows exactly where and how to touch you, causing your head to spin. He feels himself hardening watching your face contort in pleasure, and nearly coming in his pants when you slowly lick your bottom lip, pulling it in between your teeth and letting out a long moan in the process.

“Mmm, Jimin,” you cry, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Jimin notices this and instantly pulls away. You don’t get to come that easily. Even though it makes him super fucking excited to see what his touch does to you. God, this is so much better than what he imagined.

You whimper at the loss of his touch, “What the fuck?”

“Turn around,” he demands, his eyes flooding with lust and a dash of something dark. He undresses you rather quickly, leaving your tights and leotard wrapped around your legs.

You decide you aren’t going to let him have all the fun, sneaking a hand back behind you. Jimin grits his teeth in pleasure as your hand slips into his pants. His length twitches in anticipation of feeling you wrapped around him. You pull his member out and lead him between your damp folds, moaning deliciously at the contact.

The scent of your arousal has now filled the room and Jimin can’t hold back any longer. He wants to fulfill his fantasy of taking you hard and fast, right here in front of the mirror. Without a warning he slams himself into you, causing you to lose your breath.

Your back is against him as he relentlessly pounds you from behind. The force of his thrusts are hard and you use your hands as leverage against the mirror to avoid being crushed by him, even though it would certainly be worth it.

Jimin brings a hand up around your neck and holds your head straight so he can watch when you come. You’re close and he knows just what to do.

“Say my name,” he demands, using his other hand to pinch your clit. “Look at me and say the name of the man who’s making you come like you never have before.”

“Jimin, oh my-” The waves of pleasure wash over your entire body, every inch of your skin tingles. You pulsate around him, but he’s not done with you yet.

“That’s damn right.” Jimin twists you around again, lifting you against the reflective glass. He keeps his fast pace, with a fistful of your hair held between his tightening fingers.

“You’re such a fucking slut. Look at you losing it over my cock,” he snarls with a clenched jaw, “I’m gonna fuck you like this until the rest of the class comes in.”

Jimin rams into you with twice the amount of force as before. “I’d make that fucking Italian bastard watch as I take you hard and make you feel this good.” He brings his lips up to your ear and whispers, “He could never,” before harshly biting your ear, sending you completely over the edge for a second time. 

Jimin watches you unfold, your beauty completely mesmerizes him. Your entire body is on fire from oversensitivity while Jimin’s fingers rub your throbbing nub. You watch, completely hypnotized, as he brings his soaked fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“Oh, don’t think we’re anywhere near done yet,” he smirks devilishly, moving his thumb back to your clit and rubbing in crude circles. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation, and you can’t catch your breath. It’s too much.

Jimin hisses when your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight right now.” It isn’t long after those words leave his lips that he’s shuddering inside of you, his release shooting into the depths of your heat.

Your insides coil as you reach the peak of your third and final orgasm. Jimin holds your legs steady as you come hard over his cock, and swallows your moans with his mouth.

He slowly retreats out of you and presses his flushed cheek against yours. You can feel his heartbeat thumping out of control while you both catch your breath.

After a moment, he draws back and lowers you to the ground. You both chuckle at the state of your appearance. “I think I have a towel in my bag, one sec.” He says while tucking himself back into his pants as you readjust your hair, trying to make the whole ’i just had sex’ look a little less obvious.

You’re still breathing heavily when he returns to wipe you clean.

“Mmm,” you hum in total satisfaction, and still a little out of it - if you had to be honest. “I should piss you off more often.”

He gives you a look, “Hurry up and get dressed before anyone sees you.”

You’re the one to smirk this time, “I thought you wanted people to see me?”

“Haha, very funny.”

“Hurry up, you’re taking too long,” you whine while Jimin attempts to undo his stage pants as fast as he can.

“I’m trying,” he mutters, silently praying when his zipper finally works, “There we go.”

He lines himself up to you and pushes into your center.

You bite your lip to avoid making any noises as he stretches you out. The two of you are in the small storage closet behind the stage; there’s only about an hour or two until the opening night show starts.

Jimin thought you had to be joking at first when you whispered how badly you needed him after you both were dressed and ready to warm up with the rest of the dancers. But much to his delight, you weren’t kidding.

Hopefully, they won’t notice your absence. Who are you kidding, they probably know that you two are fucking. Plus, it’s kind of obvious when both lead roles go 'missing’ at the same time.

At first, he was torn between following you into the tight space–wanting to be in another tight space–and doing what he normally would call the right thing, which was preparing for tonight. But after seeing the look on your face, Jimin was quick to follow you into the closet.

“Shhh, you need to stay quiet,” Jimin grunts quietly with a hand over your mouth, silencing your moans.

You grip his shoulders as he quickens his pace, bringing you both over the edge.

“Holy fuck,” he quietly whines, the sensation of your inner walls clenching his length is addicting. It isn’t long after your sweet release that he’s quivering. He pulls out, knowing you can’t dance with his release filling you. He shudders one last time, his come shoots out and onto the wooden floor below.

You giggle, “Good thing we’re in a place that can clean that up.” you say referencing his load.

He rolls his eyes at your joke and leans in to give you a quick kiss, “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“Yes, typically.”

You flatten out your costume and zip each other up, leaving the closet one at a time. You first of course, since you needed to touch up your makeup now. Leaving Jimin behind to clean up his mess.

About fifteen minutes later you meet Jimin backstage to practice, stretch, and chat along with everyone else. The jitters are bouncing off of everyone and you can’t stand still from excitement, a little nervousness too. But mostly excitement.

“Jimin, are you feeling okay? You look a little stiff and tired if I must say…” Madam Jamie mentions after watching him practice a few scenes.

“Nothing to worry about Madam, had a tiring warm-up is all. Not to worry though, I am more than ready for tonight.”

Madam Jamie reminds him how important rest and lots of water are when practicing hard before moving along to the next student.

“Hmmm, what is it that you usually tell me?” You begin, giving him a coy look, “Oh right. 'Just dance it off.’ That should fix your issue, correct?” You look down at his crotch, and back up at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, daring you to go on.

“After our vigorous warmup, I’m sure you do. But we’re going on stage soon. So suck it up, sweetie.”

He can’t wait to make you regret that statement when he teases you later tonight. He had big plans to celebrate. And knowing you, you would love them.

©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

[beom-pyu]

truth or drink! (couples edition): choi yeonjun

based off those truth or drink videos by cut on yt! who's next?

other parts: beomgyu & taehyun "my ex + my boyfriend edition" soobin "engaged edition" kai "blind date edition"

nsfw! (minors dni.)

welcome to truth or drink! couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.

“hi, i’m y/n.”

“and i’m yeonjun.”

how long have you guys been together?

YOU: “nine months.”

YJ: “nine months, really? i thought it was already a year.”

YOU: “that friends with benefits stage doesn’t count, i think.”

YJ: “ohhh, okay, okay.”

how did you meet?

YOU: “we had a class together in our freshman year of college and i thought he was sexy.”

YJ: “that’s it? you weren’t like attracted to my kind nature and generosity?”

YOU: “no, you just looked like you had good dick.��

yeonjun shrugs at the camera, a small smile on his lips.

YEONJUN: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever said about me to your friends?

you immediately reach for the bottle of fireball, pouring your shot glass to the very top. yeonjun glances at you, to the camera, and back to you, a disbelieving puff of laughter leaving his lips.

YJ: “was it that bad?”

YOU: “you used to be an asshole, jun.”

YJ: “...okay, fair.”

YOU: when was the last time you masturbated, and where was i?

YJ: “this morning. and you were right next to me.”

YOU: “why didn’t you wake me up?”

YJ: “you’re like the devil reincarnated in the morning.”

YOU: “i thought you were into that?”

YJ: “...”

you smile as yeonjun quickly pours himself a shot.

YEONJUN: what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done sexually with an ex?

YOU: “pour me a shot.”

YJ: “no, no, i actually wanna hear this.”

YOU: “oh my god. uh—okay. i fucked one of my exes with a 10 inch tentacle dildo.”

…

YJ: “can we try this sometime?”

YOU: “yeonjun.”

YOU: if i was put in a coma, how long would you wait for me?

YJ: “at least a good… year? maybe two.”

YOU: “wow… you wouldn’t wait an eternity for me? am i not the love of your life?”

YJ: “hell no. you run up my wifi bill.”

YEONJUN: when was the last time you faked an orgasm and why?

YOU: “i've never faked one.”

YJ: “you heard it here, folks.”

YOU: what would you think if you caught me watching porn?

YJ: “without me?”

YOU: “he’s actually said this before.”

YJ: “what if it was me?”

YOU: “‘again?’”

YJ: “okay, next question.”

YEONJUN: if our sex life was a porn genre, what would it be?

YOU: “dominatrix meets pegging meets cuckhold meets—”

YJ: “none of this is true by the way.”

you give him a pointed look

YJ: “some of it is true.”

YOU: have you ever had a crush on any of my friends before we started dating?

YJ: “you never brought me around your friends!”

YOU: “i’m pretty sure i did, like once or twice. it would’ve been awkward 'cause they knew we were fucking.”

YJ: “i brought you around my friends and they knew—wait, did you have a crush on any of my friends?”

YOU: “...pour me another shot, please.”

YEONJUN: name two celebrities you’d want to have sex with if we weren’t together.

you immediately take a shot.

YJ: “woah, wait why?”

YOU: “because i’d like a peaceful drive home.”

YOU: how many sexual partners have you had?

YJ: “maybe like… seven. eight?”

YOU: “you’re lying.”

YJ: “i’m not! do you think i’m a whore?”

YOU: “well, i’m dating you, so yes.”

YEONJUN: have you ever thought about cheating on me?

YOU: “you already know, but i’m taking a shot.”

YJ: “this is actually a funny story. so, there’s this guy named soobin—”

YOU: “okay, slow down—”

YJ: “and y/n didn’t cheat, but they asked if we could have a threesome—”

YOU: “we did have the threesome, by the way.”

YJ: “yes, we did.”

YOU: “we should call him later.”

YJ: “nah, i think we scared him off for good.”

YOU: have you ever considered having an open relationship?

YJ: “surprisingly, no. this is probably the first stable relationship i’ve ever been in and i don’t have any intentions on being with someone else right now.”

YOU: “agreed.”

YJ: “you’re all mine, baby.”

YOU: “...can i take a shot, just for that?”

YJ: “shut up, you love it.”

YEONJUN: what’s the one thing you would change about me?

YOU: “hm… well, you do get super defensive about the littlest things.”

YJ: “i do not! what the hell?”

you deadpan the camera.

YOU: what’s my biggest flaw?

YJ: “you’re like a borderline workaholic.”

YOU: “i agree with that.”

YJ: “and me?”

YOU: “hm… you’re very, very forgetful.”

YJ: “i’m like dory.”

YOU: “yea, except dory is actually cute.”

…

YJ: “is the video almost over?”

YEONJUN: what’s your favorite thing about me?

YOU: “you always manage to make me feel safe and loved, even when my confidence is really low.”

YJ: “woah… i thought you were gonna say my stroke game or something.”

YOU: “i mean… that too.”

YOU: why do you love me?

YJ: “who said i love you?”

YOU: “cut the cameras.”

YJ: “i’m kidding, i’m kidding. um, well i feel like i always have? like we’ve been friends for so long, but no one has ever made me feel the way you do. i’ve never been happier… like i’m my true self around you, and i know i can be because you’d never judge me for that, yknow?”

YOU: “awe. guys, i’m gonna cry.”

YJ: “they’re actually crying, look. zoom in.”

YOU: “and that’s a wrap! thank you for watching this video! don’t forget to like and subscr—”

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU

[sophrosynesworld]

with all my love,

Edit: This is now a series with more parts available. Enjoy!

This idea came into my head, basically your significant other is an absent Katsuki Bakugo. After months of a loveless relationship, you decide to leave this note and finally move on.

Dear Katsuki,

If you’re reading this, I’ve already moved my belongings out of our home. You might not believe me, but I’ve had the majority of my items packed in a suitcase next to the front door. It’s been sitting there for the past week, but you never once questioned it.

Each day I waited, hoping you’d notice, hoping you’d ask me about it. Each day, my heart broke a little more when you walked past it without a second glance. I wanted so badly for you to see, to care, to fight for us.

I can’t live like this anymore. I’m tired of sharing a house that feels more like a cold, empty shell than a home. I’m tired of sitting alone at the dinner table, my heart sinking with every passing hour that you’re not there. I’m tired of not seeing you for days on end, of lying awake at night wondering if you’re bleeding out in an alleyway. I might not be a pro-hero, but I’m still your partner. I was your partner.

For months, I fought to gain your attention back, praying to whatever god would listen. I used to beg them, offering anything they wanted, just so you would notice how much I've changed. I started working out again, sculpting my body into something I thought you’d find appealing, hoping to catch your eye like I once did. I even joined a cooking class, learning to make all your favorite dishes. I wanted to surprise you with a homemade meal. You would have known that, if you made it home for dinner once in 4 months.

Do you remember our first apartment after graduation? That tiny studio next to the noodle shop? I find myself there sometimes, watching the new couple who lives in our old place. It's become a painful habit, seeing them live out what we once had. Her boyfriend seems kind, and they slow dance in the kitchen, just like we used to. Sometimes, I can almost hear your laughter echoing in their space, as if our ghosts still linger there.

I remember when we used to laugh and dance together, our dreams tangled like a ball of red string. We would stay up late, talking about our future, making plans that felt like promises. Now, our home your home haunts me. The warmth I once felt has been replaced by a suffocating darkness. I don't know what changed, Katsuki, but pretending everything is fine is tearing me apart.

I often wonder what your biggest regret in life will be. Is it pushing your friends away, no matter how hard they try to love you? Maybe it will be all the times you let your anger get the best of you. Could it be not taking a moment to stop and smell the roses, to appreciate the simple, beautiful moments life has to offer.

I don't know if you've found someone else. Part of me dreads the truth. I don’t want to know if there’s another name on your lips, another face in your heart. I don't think I could bear knowing their name or imagining you whispering those same sweet words into their ear.

Izuku says it’s selfish, but I hope your biggest regret in life is losing me. I hope you see my face in every little thing—the flowers you never stopped to admire, the meals we never shared, the quiet moments you never savored. I hope my laughter echoes in your silence, my tears in your loneliness. I hope my memory haunts your future as painfully as our present haunts me.

If you still love me, Katsuki Bakugo, I haven't felt that love from you in months.

With all of my love,

[crypticdesire]

embracing the mess

MINORS DNI

dom top gn reader x sub vil shoenheit (around 7.2k words)

cw: general sickness that’s messy, sneeze kink, minor feederism, emeto, piss, ondontophilia

a note from vern: i knew i adored the lovely whumpee that is sick vil, but i did not expect to get so into writing him with emphasis on the sick... but here we are 7.2 k words later... oops. ngl i didn't edit this as thoroughly as i normally do so pls pardon any mistakes!

You already know something is wrong with Vil without even seeing him. You’re ten minutes early to your first class and he’s not already there, which is a very rare occurrence. Some might think with all the effort he puts into his appearance it would be reasonable for him to show up at the last minute, but that wasn’t Vil at all. A part of putting care into his appearance also applied to maintaining his dignified manner, which meant always arriving early.

You don’t have any messages from him, so all you can do is sit down and wait for him. Rook walks through the door with four minutes to spare without Vil by his side like usual, and you feel your eyebrows furrow with worry. Seeing your expression Rook gives you an apologetic smile.

‘I’m afraid Roi du Poison will not be joining us today” he says as he slips behind you to get to his seat. Normally there’s a seat in between you for Vil, but he takes that spot today not needing you to prompt him for an explanation for your partner’s absence. “He’s feeling a bit under the weather, but he requested that I give this to you.” He takes out a small envelope and slides in front of you. There’s a question on the tip of your tongue, but you miss your chance to let it slip out as Professor Trein begins class.

There’s no way you could wait until the end of class to read Vil’s note to you, so even if it means getting scolded by the strict Professor Trein, you have to read it now. Unfortunately for you, Vil prefers to sit in the front row, so you have to make extra efforts to be subtle, taking the note out of the envelope below the surface of the desk and placing it in front of you when Professor Trein’s gaze is directed elsewhere.

You smile faintly, tracing your fingers over the familiar way he addresses his letters to you. My love. Vil developed a habit of writing letters as that was how he responded to mail from his fans, preferring the elegance and personal touch it afforded him. He made sure you knew, however, that he had his own special stationery for you that he selected with you specifically in mind. Scanning over his words, you noticed that his handwriting was slightly different, not sloppy but a bit uneven and hurried, which was a sign in itself he wasn’t feeling his best.

Just like Rook had told you, Vil explained that he wasn’t feeling well and decided rest was a priority for him right now. He didn’t want you to worry though and insisted that you didn’t miss any of your classes to check on him. You smiled wryly. He knew you a bit too well.

While you could appreciate how considerate he was, you felt as if there wasn’t a point to being in class anyway since your mind was more focused on worrying about Vil than the lecture. You came up with the compromise in your head that you would check on him during lunch, bringing him some food and seeing his condition for yourself. That would allow you to convince him to let you stay for the afternoon and take care of him if needed.

“Headed to the Pomefiore dorm?” Rook gives you a knowing smile as you two gather your things at the end of class. “I would hardly think less of you if you did,” he continues “We both know how stubborn Roi du Poison can be when it comes to letting others look after him.” It made you feel better knowing he wasn’t opposed to you ignoring Vil’s request.

You exhale a deep sigh. “Honestly, I want to, but I thought on Vil’s behalf I’d wait until lunch, but you’re the one who saw him this morning. What do you think? I mean he’s not one to skip class for something minor, so it has to be a little concerning, right?” Despite thinking you had your mind made up earlier, your resolve to wait until lunch was waning.

“Hmmm” Walking out into the hallway, Rook hummed in thought though seeing a glint of amusement in his eyes you were sure he already decided his opinion.

“I think…” he tapped his lips with his gloved index finger. “You should trust your instincts” he didn’t even try to hide his smile as he looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “Ne t’inquiète pas! I’ll collect any notes or assignments you two need from your classes”

“But we’re not all in the same classes” you pointed out, but he only chuckled.

“But I am very resourceful” he punctuated his claim by tapping you on the nose. “Vas y, vas y” he waved his hand flippantly in the air, cutting off any more opportunities for you to voice opposition.

“Well, merci ami” You at least knew that much French even before you started picking up phrases from Rook. “We’re lucky to have you as a friend” You added with your lips tugged into a grateful grin, which Rook met with a wink. With your conversation over, you two headed in different directions, your feet taking you towards the Pomefiore dorms with a small detour to grab some things Vil might need.

Standing in front of his door, holding one bag with food and one with various types of medicine, you couldn’t be more grateful that he gave you a spare key once your relationship got more serious. How terrible would it be if you skipped class for him and then you couldn’t even get in on the chance he was sleeping?

You entered as quietly as you could, the bit of sunlight seeping into the room through his stained glass window keeping you from having to stumble in the dark. You glanced over at Vil’s bed as you put your stuff down, but you were only able to see his form under his covers. Making your way over to the other side of the bed, the sight you encountered made the thread of worry in your stomach bind into a tighter knot rather than loosen.

There was a waste bin on the floor beside his bed with some discarded tissues, but it seemed he wasn’t able to successfully drop them in there every time with some littering the floor around it. He had his cover tightly pulled around him, covering everything except his face, the sheen of sweat on his forehead juxtaposing the impression that he was cold. Moving closer to his face, you could see the redness dusting his nose and the light catching onto the wet surface of the snot that leaked onto his upper lip.

With a deep frown on your face, you couldn’t help but reach out to him, resting the back of your hand on his forehead. He didn’t seem to be burning up, but his skin was warmer than it should be, perhaps meaning he had a mild fever. Not wanting to disturb his sleeping yet, you decided to do some other things for him: picking up the tissues on the floor, picking out medicine that you thought might be useful to him, and ensuring he had a cool glass of water on his nightstand. Lastly, you soaked a washcloth in cool water, taking it with you as you pulled the chair at his vanity closer to the bed so you could sit at his side.

Taking in the slight grimace of his face you gently pushed back the sweaty strands of hair sticking to his flushed skin, hand lingering on his cheek once you were done. With your other hand, you pressed the washcloth to the warm surface, moving from his cheek to his forehead to his neck, which was still hidden under the duvet and just as clammy as his face. You felt a twinge of guilt as a noise formed in the back of his throat, bare eyelashes fluttering as he struggled to pull himself out of sleep and open his eyes.

You moved the hand that was on his cheek to stroke his hair as you patiently waited for him to wake up or fall back asleep. It was the former that happened, a pout on his lips as his sense of awareness tried to overcome the fog in his mind and likely exhaustion of his body. Even once his lilac eyes settled on yours, he had a delayed reaction to your presence.

“Mmm,” he let out a soft groan, eyes narrowing when he became capable of forming a coherent thought. “What time is it?” his nasal voice came out meekly.

“Still morning actually” you let out a half-hearted chuckle. “I came here after my first class” You pressed your lips together as you waited for his reproach.

“Rook told me writing that note was a wasted effort” he sniffled, managing to slightly roll his eyes. You saw his body slightly shiver before he wrapped the cover tighter around his body, the edge of the duvet lifting to just cover his chin.

“And look at you. I don’t regret coming to check on you because, no offense love, you look absolutely terrible” You hoped your breathy laugh softened your words. “Have you taken any medicine?”

Eyes closed you’re not sure if he’s mulling over your words or falling back asleep, but you soon get your answer to both questions. “No… It wasn’t as bad…” he pauses inhaling a breath, eyes fluttering closed like he might sneeze, so you reach for a tissue on the nightstand.

“when…” he tries to finish his sentence as the urge to sneeze fades but as soon as he speaks another word he’s forced into a deeper intake of breath. This time he does sneeze, a loud and violent sound going directly into his hand. It’s a sound too uncouth for most people to believe it to be made by Vil.

“Ugh” he moans sounding even more nasally and he almost lets himself wipe his hand on his cover, but he stops at the last second lip curling in disdain.

“Here” You take his wrist in your hand, taking the tissue you grabbed to wipe the slick and sticky mess off his palm. It takes three tissues to clean it thoroughly, a little satisfied hum coming from Vil as you take your time cleaning in between his fingers. You dab a tissue on his face too trying to clean up the mucus without irritating the bit of red sensitive skin too much. Despite your efforts to be gentle, Vil hisses, turning his face slightly away from you.

“I’m sorry” you murmur, your fingers going back to rake through his hair. He responds to your apology with a faint smile, sniffling before he attempts to finish his reply to your earlier question. It’s not an easy task for him, evident by the way he keeps making pauses while he talks, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to capture the thoughts that must feel like sand slipping through his fingers.

“I didn’t feel as bad when I first woke up….”

“body slightly aching, stuffy nose, a little nauseous” He clears his throat.

“I still started getting ready...”

“my body felt so heavy, becoming more and more exhausted by each little thing I did...”

“rook came and suggested I rest” He sniffles.

“back in bed I felt worse and sweaty but I fell asleep anyway”

He looks like he can hardly keep his eyes open now, his eyes remaining closed longer and longer with each blink. He seems to be done talking, so you move to examine the medicine you set aside, selecting the ones that seem they’d best help with his symptoms. You frown as you read the directions.

“Well, it says you’re supposed to eat with this one…. but I think it’d really help you” You direct your gaze to him again. “Do you think you could eat something? I grabbed some different stuff for you since I wasn’t sure what your appetite would be like” You listed them off on your fingers.

“Some pumpkin carriage stew, bread, crackers, and applesauce. Of course, I can go get you something else too.”

“I’ll try the stew” he lets out a soft grunt, wincing as he attempts to move his body and sit up. You help him out by adjusting his pillows and pulling the edge of his duvet around his body so that his shoulders and back are covered. He leans his head back on the headboard, eyes weakly trained on you as you get the stew out, which has thankfully retained some of its warmth. He’s wiping his nose with a tissue when you get settled again at his side, so you lift the waste bin, allowing him to easily drop it there.

“You’re going to feed me, aren’t you?” It’s nice to see some amusement flicker across his features, lips pulled into a small smirk.

“Of course, of course,” you’re stirring the stew held by the small hollow pumpkin. Satisfied you lift the spoon to his mouth, which he opens just enough for you to slide the spoon between his lips. You pause after the first bite to check in with him.

“What do you think? Can you manage to eat some more?” he nods his head, so you continue to slowly feed him the stew, finding yourself a little too transfixed by the way his lips wrap around the spoon. Arousal swirls in your stomach at the sound of the shaky exhales he releases between bites. Desire fills you from the way he thickly swallows the stew before wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. Excitement builds in your chest when he chooses to fix his heavy-lidded gaze on your face rather than the food you're feeding him.

He’s eaten about half the stew when he refuses to eat anymore, claiming to feel a wave of nausea. You could see him approaching his limit before that with his breathing becoming heavier and pauses between bites needing to be longer. You can see signs of nausea affecting him now, his lips pressed into a thin line as he continues to take subtle swallows, you guess that his mouth is producing excess saliva. You can also feel yourself approaching a limit yourself, your pants straining against your growing bulge.

“You did so good, darling” you praise him putting the stew down.

“I’m going to give you a second, but then I want you to try to get this medicine down, okay?” With his eyes closed he meekly nods his head, appearing like he’s mustering up his best efforts to keep the nausea at bay. You take a moment to press the back of your hand to his forehead and then his cheek, which reveals his fever has gotten worse.

After getting his assent, you soak the washcloth in cool water again, repeating your earlier action of pressing it to his face and neck. You resist the urge to palm yourself as he lets out small moans of relief and briefly entertain the thought of getting yourself off after he’s fallen back asleep. It doesn’t take too long for that to happen, he drifts back off to sleep almost as soon as he’s taken the medicine. He would only take a couple of sips of water to get the pills down, so you hope the medicine will work enough so that he can drink more water and rehydrate after he wakes up.

Now that he’s asleep, however, you use the opportunity to make a quick trip to your dorm room to gather some things so you can spend the night in Vil’s dorm. You’re unashamed to admit you also take a little extra time to jerk off and take a cold shower before putting on comfier clothes and heading back.

You thought that would be enough to suppress your arousal for a bit, but you realize you might be wrong when you come back to Vil’s dorm to find him still sleeping but sprawled out on his bed and completely naked, duvet kicked off his body so that most of it hangs off the edge of his bed. Just a bit of it still covers the bottom half of his leg. You can see one part of his face twisted in discomfort, but the other part is concealed by the damp washcloth you left on his nightstand, likely a weak effort to get some relief as he became unbearably hot.

You’re not sure how long the washcloth has been on his face but not long after you return it ends up falling onto his shoulder, a result of him restlessly turning in his sleep, a whimper interrupting his soft wheezing. Just as you expected, you find that he’s burning up and you soak two other washcloths to replace the old one, veiling one over his forehead and one on his chest. You knew there would be a chance your efforts would be pointless with his fitful sleep, and those thoughts are confirmed as his tossing and turning makes them fall off his body, his sporadic coughing soon waking him up anyway.

“Ugh… throat hurts” he mumbles with a hoarse voice, slowly leaning towards his nightstand. Propped up on one elbow, he takes the glass of water and guzzles it down, letting out a faint whine when the glass is empty.

“Here I’ll get you some more” You take the glass from Vil, who meets your gaze with raised eyebrows, only just now noticing your presence. You hesitate in handing the filled glass back to him worried he’ll drink this one just as fast as the first.

“Take your time with this one,” you say lowering yourself so you’re at eye level with him. “If you drink it too fast, it’s not going to sit well with your stomach” You wait until he nods his head before you hand it over. He seems to attempt to take a smaller sip, but the next one is longer, and the one after that is practically a gulp.

“Small sips, love” You put your hand over his trying to gently stop him from tilting up the glass again. He sighs, eyes flitting to your face and lips forming a small pout. With his eyes fixed on yours, it appears that he’s waiting for your permission to take another sip, which you allow after a minute has passed. You continue to do that until he empties the glass, making him take a longer pause before he drinks anymore.

“Mmm,” he moans in discomfort as he fully sits up, moving his hand to hold his hair off his neck. “So hot.”

You easily find a hair tie, taking his hair in your hand so you can put it up in a ponytail. You purse your lips looking at your sloppy job with its bumps and loose strands. If Vil wasn’t so sick he would have already slipped the hair tie off to do it again himself, but it’d suffice right now.

You give him a moment before you prompt him to update you on the symptoms he’s feeling. It’s pretty much the same things he told you before minus the chills with the medicine having no obvious impact yet. He attempts to tell you how his stomach feels when his own hiccup interrupts him, and he puts a hand to his chest wincing.

“Excuse me,” he says after exhaling a big breath. His frown deepens as he rubs his chest, and another small hiccup makes that hand move to cover his mouth. Guessing what might happen next you pick up the waste bin on the floor beside you, but you hear Vil groan before you’re able to place it in front of him.

He lurches forward, this time instead of an exhale coming after the queasy hiccup a thin yet forceful stream of vomit comes out of his mouth. Since you were in the process of moving the waste bin closer to him, he gets most of it in there, but you feel a bit splatter onto your hand and the side of the bin first. One of his hands covers the messy surface of yours as he instinctively grabs hold of the bin you’re holding steady for him, and he heaves a couple more times, most likely expelling the rest of his stomach’s contents.

“Fuck” he groans screwing his eyes shut tighter. He sits there a moment more panting. You see his tongue swipe over his teeth, which elicits an expression of revulsion.

“Ugh,” he awkwardly holds his mouth open as if he could stop his tongue from touching any other part of his mouth. You decide you can risk moving the waste bin now, which Vil easily lets go of, and using the hand without puke on it, you grab the glass of water and offer it to Vil.

“Here, rinse out your mouth,” you instruct, but there’s no movement in his face to show that he hears you. Blinking slowly and still panting, his eyes eventually shift to look at the water you’re holding out to him. You can see his lip curl up in disgust before it’s covered by his hand, and he slowly shakes his head.

“You can just spit it back out” you add but he continues to shake his head eyeing the glass of water like it’s something vile.

“I told you were drinking the water too fast” You’re talking more to yourself than him, no sharpness to your words. With an exaggerated exhale of breath, you think about something else you could do to help Vil cope with the acidic taste in his mouth. While you’re racking your brain for ideas, Vil lays down, a drawn-out whining sound becoming muffled by the pillow he hugs close to him.

His shift in position gives you a glimpse of the washcloths you had laid on his body earlier and you realize that maybe if you put it over your finger, you could clean Vil’s teeth that way. If you made sure it was heavily soaked in water that would probably help with the taste too. Thinking it was worth a try you take the washcloth to the bathroom where you wash your hands and do just that, returning to kneel at the side of bed where Vil’s face is. He lays horizontally on the bed, pillow still loosely hugged against his chest, his cheek now resting on top of it.

“Vil” you call out to him gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

“I feel gross” he mumbles not opening his eyes, clearly repulsed by himself.

“I want to help you clean your mouth, but you have to open it for me, love” With the washcloth over your index finger you use your other hand to cradle the back of his head, prodding his lips with your covered finger, but he remains unresponsive. You lean in closer pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.

“C’mon love, let me help you feel better” you murmur against his hairline. Hearing those words, you feel him open his mouth just enough to slide your finger between his lips. You start with the front teeth, making small circular motions with your finger to clean them. You notice almost immediately that Vil begins sucking on your finger; however, he doesn’t seem to be aware of it at first, but then it becomes a bit more intense and deliberate, the washcloth being pulled slightly between his teeth.

You hear the smallest sigh of relief when Vil pauses his actions, and he whimpers when you remove your finger from his mouth. He must enjoy the small amount of cool water he can get from the washcloth. Adjusting it on your finger so that it’s a fresh, unused part of the washcloth, you prod his lips again and Vil readily accepts your finger back into his mouth.

“Shit” you curse under your breath realizing how turned on you are right now from the sensation of Vil sucking on your finger and the delight of exploring the surface of his teeth. Your circular motions become slower, taking your time as you feel every dip between his teeth and the tip of his canines.

“Mmm” he moans after sucking on your finger once more, and you let out a moan of your own subtly grinding yourself against the side of his bed. You move to his bottom molars, wishing your cock was buried inside him as you feel the deep grooves on them. As soon as your fingers touch the inside of his back molar, Vil gags a bit. Surprised, you pull your finger back but not completely out of his mouth. He recovers quickly, his tongue moving against your covered finger as he mumbles three unexpected words.

“Keep going… please”

Biting your lip, you continue to rub the washcloth against the inside of his teeth, your movements more tentative when approaching the opposite bottom molar. He whimpers around your finger as it slides slowly across the last of his bottom teeth but doesn’t gag this time as you rub the damp washcloth against it.

You keep the same pace as you clean the inside of the top row of his teeth, but you find that his gag reflex is more sensitive there. He starts to gag before you even get to the tooth deepest in his mouth. You can’t deny that there’s a part of you that gets excited when he gags on your finger, your cock fully erect by now surely. When your finger touches his back molar, he begins to gag again but unlike the other times you don’t pull your finger back, and the second time he gags, hot bile follows. It's hot as it splatters onto your hand even though it lands on the washcloth instead of directly touching your skin.

He gags one more time, additional clear vomit spilling out onto the pillow beneath him and sliding down your forearm. He groans as you pull your finger out. Flipping the washcloth inside out, you gently wipe his face before cleaning what you can off his pillow and your arm.

He maintains a neutral expression, the disgust you’d expect as a response nowhere in his features. His eyes are slits, nearly closed as he watches your actions, and he says nothing as you adjust his limp body to take the pillow from him, replacing it with a clean one. You remove the pillowcase before the bile can seep any further into the surface of the pillow. Even though he didn’t get anything on his bed this time, you can still appreciate the waterproof mattress cover that would protect his mattress if he did.

Vil seemed so out of it as you were cleaning him up that you didn’t expect to hear him say anything, but with his eyes flitting to your groin, he pointed out the obvious.

“You’re hard” With his flat tone you’re not sure how to respond, but his intentions become clearer as he lifts his arm, movements weak as he brushes his fingertips against your bulge.

“You said I look terrible” he echoes your earlier words with a slight pout, one corner of his mouth appearing like it’s close to quirking up to form a smirk on his face.

“I never said it didn’t turn me on,” you say with a breathy chuckle as you rake your fingers gently through his hair still pulled into a loose ponytail that looks even messier now than it did before. “And how can I not get hard when you were sucking on my finger so eagerly”

You let your fingertips trace his jawline, thumb swiping over his bottom lip that’s slick with saliva despite cleaning it only moments prior.

“I’m always eager to have you inside of me” he murmurs. You know his heavy-lidded gaze is just the result of weak and tired eyes but they never looked more seductive. “Even now”

“As much as I’d love for you to take all of me…” Having you throw up on my cock. Feel your hot insides clenching around me. Things you can’t say while you’re trying to talk Vil down.

“It’d be better if you sleep right now, lovely” A small sigh leaves Vil’s lips.

“Lay with me at least…” he offers a compromise. “please” he adds lifting his hand again except this time it goes to softly grip your wrist. The way he says it with his sniffly hoarse voice is too endearing.

“Of course,” you give in easily. You help him adjust his body so he’s back to laying vertically in the bed before you slip in beside him, the warmth under the duvet radiating off his skin immediately enveloping you. Wrapping your arm around his bare torso you can tell that his whole body is still clammy, and you can’t help but kiss his forehead affectionately as he goes to bury his face into your chest. The soft wheezing that is Vil’s breathing becomes a higher-pitched whistling sound as he falls asleep but it doesn’t stop you from eventually succumbing to sleep yourself.

You’re not sure how long you were sleeping, but when you wake up you can still see a glimpse of daylight through the window. Vil’s face is still buried in your chest, his hand gripping your shirt, and as you gently rub his bare back you’re relieved to find that his fever has begun to fade, his skin no longer sweltering or as slippery with sweat. You have no inclination to leave his side so you lay comfortably beside him, eventually finding yourself with your lips pressed to the top of Vil’s head, humming softly. That’s what you’re doing when Vil wakes up, and you can hear his sniffling and feel him rub his face against your shirt before he lets out a quiet groan, pulling himself away from you to look at your face.

“Hi lovely” you greet him with a warm smile, which he meets with narrowed eyes that take time to examine your face.

“You shouldn’t be here” his voice is raspy and his breathing still congested.

“You might not remember it, but you asked me to lay with you” you tease. You can already see emotion returning to his face, one eyebrow quirking up in disbelief.

“You’re not supposed to be here at all” he emphasizes. “I can’t imagine it’s too hard to follow instructions” he’s referring to his letter, which he had already commented on when you first arrived. You suppose his thoughts are clearer now. A good sign at least.

“What’s hard is knowing you’re in your dorm miserable when all I’m doing is letting my mind wander in class” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment on your attention span during lectures.

“Trust me, there’s nowhere I’d rather be even if I do end up getting sick” You kiss his forehead as he scoffs, but you catch a glimpse of his soft smile before he goes to lean into your chest again.

“Oh god,” he tenses in your arms. The whisper of your previous worries becomes prominent again, strangling the words that leave your mouth asking Vil what’s wrong.

“Absolutely disgusting” he hisses, which causes you to try to follow his gaze to see what he’s referring to. It’s not as easy with him so close to you, but looking down you see that his hand that once gripped your shirt is now merely pinching it, the fabric stretched out so the slimy wet stain on it is easier to see. A stain you surmise was caused by Vil rubbing his face against your shirt earlier, evidence of his still present runny nose.

“What, that?” you can’t help but laugh at him. “It’s no big deal. I don’t mind being your tissue” You’re hoping your words spare Vil of his embarrassment, but he still pulls his body a bit further away from you, hands coming to cover his face.

“So mortifying” you hear him murmur to himself. His next words are louder and meant for you to hear.

“You should never see me like this. No one should. And you certainly shouldn’t have my mess on you” Despite his raspy and strained voice you can still pick up on the contempt underlying his words.

“Vil..” you rub soothing circles into his hips. “I would be offended if you didn’t let me see you like this. You’re always beautiful to me, and seeing you all sick and messy is hot. I couldn’t even take care of you without getting hard”

You coax him to lower his hands, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. There’s a look of confusion on his face when you pull back, his lilac eyes shifting as if they’re sorting his thoughts. And then he gasps as something clicks.

“Ohhhh… my god” he repeats his words from earlier but now he sounds even more horrified. He brings a hand to his mouth in shock.

“Please tell me I didn’t actually throw up on your hand” Oh, he just remembered that.

“It was technically on a washcloth-“

“No-” his voice is shrill which makes him have to clear his throat before continuing. “If I didn’t feel so exhausted I would push you out the door myself” he shakes his head in disbelief, his cheeks returning to the shade they were earlier when his fever was at its worst.

“Unacceptable,” he says to himself frowning deeply. He groans again at a loss for words, leaning towards you as if he’s going to bury his face into your chest in humiliation, but his face never makes contact.

“And great seven, please take off that shirt” he pushes back against your shoulders reestablishing the distance between you.

“Okay, okay” It’s impossible to hide that you find this situation humorous, still laughing against Vil’s skin after you’ve removed your shirt and pulled him against you again.

“You can relax, love. You’re the only one unsettled by this” You try to melt his burning shame by moving your lips from his shoulder and up his neck, your kisses wet and languid, drawing a moan out of him.

“Ah-“ he gasps as he feels your teeth graze his skin. “I remembered something else” he pants. You hum into his skin prompting him to continue.

“Is there a chance you still want me to take all of you” he can’t help but whimper when he says it, and the sound jolts through your body, stirring your cock once again.

“Is that what you want?” You’re sure to ask him this question while your eyes are locked with his, making you a target of his lustful heavy-lidded gaze again. He nods his head, sniffly voicing the word always.

“You might think you feel better than you actually are, so I can’t be too rough with you.” He whines at that.

“But I do want to fill you up with my cock and feel the way your hot insides squeeze around me. It’d feel so good to have you warming my cock. Do you think that’s something you could do for me?” Vil can’t seem to find the words to respond but he nods his head for you.

“Fuck okay let me get the lube” It’s conveniently located in the drawer of his nightstand, requiring little patience from either of you as you undress and get situated behind Vil, coating your fingers with lube to prepare him.

“Tell me to stop if it’s too much” you remind him before coating his rim with the lube from your fingers, reapplying more to them afterward. “If you don’t think you can talk, smack the headboard with your hand twice. Can you do that?” he answers your question by doing as you ask, his palm slapping the tufted surface of his headboard two times.

“Perfect... You’re perfect” You purr rubbing your digits against his entrance before sliding the tip of one in. You can’t help but moan along with Vil as you stretch him out, already excited about the way your cock will feel sliding into his hot and sticky insides. The way you thrust your fingers into him is neither fast nor forceful, you being serious about not wanting to be rough with him. Even then Vil still whines, slightly pushing his hips backward encouraging you to give him more.

You give him plenty when you finally push your tip into him, Vil sniffling, whimpering, and gripping his sheets as you fill him slowly bit by bit, taking pauses to help his uneasy body adjust to you.

Not that you would mind seeing him puke up hot bile again, but you didn't want to push his body too far. When you’re fully inside of him he can’t keep still at first, hips making small movements as he grinds against you, but when he can see you’re serious about not thoroughly fucking him right now, he relaxes against you occasionally letting out faint whines when he clenches around your length.

“Ugh, I don’t have another choice” his nasally mumbling to himself catches your attention, and you watch as he uses his hand to wipe his nose before rubbing the slimy mucus he collects on the surface of his sheet. He gasps as you manage to pull his hips further back into you, your cock moving slightly inside him, your actions lust-driven due to the fact he chose to degrade himself rather than have you pull out so he could get a tissue.

You’re impressed that both of you can stay in that same position for so long, which was especially difficult whenever Vil coughed or sneezed, your dick being tightly clamped by his walls. Though you’re sure Vil dozed off a couple of times.

The amount of light filtering into the room is the only way you have to estimate the time, and after there is no more lingering light you feel yourself becoming a bit restless, all too aware of your full bladder.

“Love?” you gently massage his chest with your hand unsure if he’s awake or not. When he hums in response you tell him you’re going to have to pull out to go to the bathroom.

“No” he immediately says with a raspy voice. “It feels so good to have you inside me”

“I know, lovely, but I really can’t hold it much longer” He sniffles and clears his throat before speaking again.

“Then don’t. You can just go right now” Your eyes widen at his offer. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve filled him with your piss, but with him already feeling gross you’re surprised he’ll let you cover him in additional mess.

“You’re sure?” you clarify, arousal stirring rapidly in the pit of your stomach.

“Yes, love. I want you to.” His tone almost sounds like he’s begging you to.

“Okay then” you kiss his shoulder before wrapping your arm around him tighter, hugging him against your chest as you let yourself relax. You feel him twitch around you right before your stream starts.

“Oh fuck...” you groan as the hot liquid envelops your cock, filling Vil’s hole and leaking out of his entrance. You’re sure to add to Vil’s pleasure too, taking his small dick in your hand that’s already slick from precum. He gasps as you swipe your thumb across the tip, his nails digging into your arm that’s wrapped around him.

He’s panting as he comes and his walls squeeze you so tightly at the same time you can’t help but come with him.

“See how hot you are when you’re messy” you start talking as you’re both coming down from your climaxes, peppering him with gentle kisses between your words. “Caring about your health is the only thing keeping me from fucking that filthy hole of yours and treating you like a fleshlight I can make as messy as I’d like” Despite your dirty words, your tone is light and you’re almost cooing not wanting to risk either of you getting too worked up again.

“Next time?” Vil grips your wrist as he waits for your reply to his breathless question.

“Next time. But this time, we’re at the part where I help you get cleaned up” you hiss as you slowly pull your cock out, a mix of liquids dripping onto the sheet.

When you get around to the other side of the bed to support Vil as he stands up, you can see his pretty cock still twitching. You have to let yourself ignore it, however, as you take your time getting Vil to the bathroom pausing after he stands up to make sure he’s not feeling lightheaded. Wobbly on his feet, you support him with one hand cupping his elbow and wrap your other arm around his back, gripping his waist in case you need to steady him.

He gives you an appreciative smile when you give him similar support in the bathroom, his shoulder leaning against the shower wall, one hand braced against the adjacent wall, and the other on your shoulder. He sighs in relief as the cool water washes over him, his limbs pliant in your hands as you bathe him. When you kneel to wash the lower half of his body, he keeps himself balanced by putting his hand on the top of your head rather than your shoulder, and you still keep a steady hand on his hip.

He mewls, leaning into your touch when you clean his sensitive areas, and you press a kiss to his upper thigh in response. As you’re making your way down, washing one of his legs, you softly gasp as a hot liquid unexpectedly flows over your hand, very different from the cool water that has been raining down on you. Glancing up you see the yellow-tinted liquid running down Vil’s thighs as he relieves himself and his grip on your head tightens as he lets out a sound of pleasure.

“You’re going to tell me I don’t need to apologize” Vil’s tired and hoarse voice speaks out before you get the chance to, but you’re delighted to hear it. You look up meeting his fond smile with one of your own.

“Once again you have proved you’re better at learning than I’ll ever be” Light laughter leaves your lips before you press a kiss on his hip.

You finish bathing both Vil and yourself soon after that, continuing to carefully support him as you dry him off, dress him, and lead him to sit on the toilet. After giving him some more water and medicine you quickly strip the sheets off Vil’s bed and remake it with fresh ones. Just as you expected, Vil’s eyelids are drooping heavily when you return to him, so it’s a good thing you’re immediately taking him back to bed. You find yourself in a position, not unlike the one you were in before when you fell asleep with him the first time.

You have to bite your lip to hold back your laughter as Vil, half-asleep, rubs his wet nose against your chest again. Hopefully, in the morning he’ll accept his mess more readily, but for now, you'll continue to embrace it and you pull him further into you, once again falling asleep to the faint whistling sound of his congested breathing.

[okay-babe]

Hiya Dot! Sorry for the random ask but I am so in love with your writing that it single-handedly got me into this accursed fandom, and now I'm wondering where to start with other authors. Do you happen to have any fic or author recs??

Hi there, anon! I'm so glad you asked because I definitely have some author/fic recs that I'm more than happy to share with you/anyone else who comes across this post!

Before we begin though, shout out to all of the people I mention below! I hope none of you mind being tagged/linked but let me know if you do and I'll remove everything asap :)

1. Starting off strong, we have the amazing @jyoongim! She's been my mutual since I think like day one or two of me creating this account, and I honestly cannot think of anyone more kind or welcoming. Plus, their writing is amazing! Like genuinely so good, I cannot recommend her highly enough. 2. Also, if you're into smut, I am always utterly baffled at the quality of @hazelfoureyes' work. Like, as someone on the ace spectrum, I can say very firmly that sometimes, I don't want to read smut, but even so, I will always read a new post from Hazel when I see it because they're just so well written that I simply cannot wait lol. Plus, their sense of humor is just *chef's kiss*. Love them, truly. (Note: I used they/them here because I don't know Hazel's pronouns, but if anyone does and they aren't gn feel free to let me know and I'll edit this post asap) 3. Additionally, if you like headcannon style writing @a-hazbin-reader is incredible. I've spent actual hours on her page just reading through some of the absolute art she posts there, and it is always a treat. Plus her interactions with her readers are usually either hilarious or incredibly sweet/kind, so it's a good time all around.

As for story/specific fic recommendations, I do have a few of those too!

1. The Deer Dolly series by @ohproserpine (Genuinely incredible writing and a killer story line). 2. You & Me for the worst eternity to come by Notafraidtosimp on AO3 (Definitely not your typical x reader series, but I love everything about it and would never forgive myself if I didn't use this opportunity to share it with everyone). 3. The Partners in Death... and Life series by @safination (This might just be my favorite Alastor series I have ever read, the writing is incredible and I simply cannot recommend it highly enough). 4. Even Death Can Never Part Us by JuliaRobHURTS on AO3 (This is an amazing ongoing long-fic that makes me gasp audibly every time I see that there's been an update. The way the characters are written is utter perfection every time).

I definitely forgot some amazing fics/authors here in my haste to get this posted before class, so everyone should feel more than welcome to comment some other recs if they want to! <3

[lady-of-the-silver-lakeatron]

Bridgerton Season 3 Episode 4 Initial Reactions

At last I am done and I can live in peace!

He brought a plant for her to enjoy indoors! This is the way to introduce a partner to your interests!

No Portia do not meddle leave the poor people alone.

Lady Arnold really said boy I do not need you to be cute I need you in bed bahahah

They're training a cute Pomeranian tricks!

"With much practice anything is possible" has the same energy as "Through incredible amounts of violence anything is possible"

OMG the caller isnt the Lord Samadani but best boy John!! Not Eloise hiding!

Francesca looks ready to eat him up!!

He is an Earl y'all! He's above a Viscount but below a Marquess! Like damn!

This scene is giving "woman on first date feels like she could spend whole life in uncomfortable silence with this man".

All these yappers are so confused about how happy they are/ Let them simply vibe within their auras!

John you're so good mannered! Best boy right here.

Penelope's dress looks like a princess dress it has a purple mist of fabric 10/10.

Portia stop perpetuating these ideas. No wonder your kids didn't know how to have sex!

You cannot make me feel bad for Cressida, nooo, stop

Okay Debling is such a green flag he doesn't belittle her interests and makes them equal to his own!

Ooh flirting by proxy!

Colin being so confused and horny that he goes back to have sex about it rather than discuss it. What a healthy strategy.

The Kilmarten's being reserved sounds just like the right place for "I don't like attention" Fran

Fran really expressing herself here!

"No I am not interested in him" bb girl your skirts are on fire

This Eloise- Cressida meeting is giving forbidden lesbian romance.

Lord Cowper can leave out of a window.

Not the 19th century frat boy speak -.-

Colin doesn't kiss and tell, good boy.

Portia stop thinking of yourself for once!

I know Portia is self-centered but she is right that Security is very important. This is an era where upper class ladies are kept from even learning how to cook and do basic house chores so without husbands this is a hard life to have.

Colin Angst!

Violet having an honest discussion about Colin's people pleasing nature is A+ parenting.

Violet you minx telling him about Penelope's potential engagement. She said I want a ginger daughter in law.

Queen Charlotte's wig! Girly you are wearing litcheral art!

Violet is nervous for the drama!

Flirting with Lady Danbury's brother and getting the lore!

The widowers moment was so emotional and beautiful I’m glad she has someone to chat with.

Lady Danbury what past life is haunting you??

Omg the lighting, the location, the framing, the outfits. This Eloise-Cressida scene looks like a romantic scene. Give me a lesbian love story you cowards!!

Give us a rebellious Romeo-Juliet story here. It would be a nice reward.

RIP Cressida you are about to be infodumped.

They speak in silence swoon.

John! I told y'all he is best boy he got her gift engaged with Fran’s special interest.

Fran said I have found my husband why waste time here any longer byees.

"She is not drinking the lemonade" was delivered with so much concern lol.

These two are actually a fun seeming couple,  more of the Featherington couples!

Bad SexEd strikes again!

Colin: out of my way gay boys I'm about to get it!

He cut into the dance! The way everyone is watching this!

Debling is asking all of the right questions! He is speaking in fax I am so sorry Pen but marrying a man while pining for another is not right missy.

This was the politest break up.

Francesca looks so happy.

Carriage scene

I did not write much as the scene was quite captivating but damn' this was such a long episode how was it 2 hours long?

Also Local man finger fucks long time friend in carriage and decides they must be married at once.

Okay finally done editing these! Hope you enjoyed! I feel I must now re-read romancing Mr. Bridgerton while waiting for part II.

Nicola really gave such an amazing performance in the carriage scene because I could feel her apprehension, shock, fear, worry, excitement, and desperation the entire time. It was chefs kiss. Same to Luke hats off to him for giving some of the most memorable moments.

I think this episode tried to fix the Bridgerton issue where they have too many speaking scenes on after another like in the Season 2 finale so I am liking the pacing and such! I hope y'all have fun.

[temporalbystander]

Just woke up, scrolled through Tumblr, got another short writing prompts for you. Happens pre-reveal, pre- Marinette being normal.

Edit: Umm... This is awkward. I think I turned my prompt into a story... I mean there's a bunch of stuff that's vague and you can see what the prompt is but... Did not mean to do this just after waking up.

Another late night Akuma means another tired class the next day. Miss Bustier, being the amazing woman she is, decides to wrap up a bit early so they can rest and get their energy back. In the silence of the class their comes a low rumbling purr and EVERYONE is shocked to see its coming from Adrien. An Adrien that is leaning back against the desk behind him as a hand combs through his hair, further shocker for all being that Marinette is the one doing it.

From Marinette's perspective she's lying with her head on her arms when she spots a familiar mop of blonde hair accompanying an exhausted groan that she hears everytime an Akuma takes a lot out of them. Mind stuck in hero mode, who else could it be but her partner? So she pets him and is rewarded with a purr. Normally she'd tease him but the fact he's so tired that he's not even bothering to hold it back? Poor kitty must be exhausted. Her eyes close as she lets herself relax while petting her beloved chaton, although she does find it weird she hasn't bumped his ears yet. She's drawn out of her relaxed state when an elbow collides with her ribs. Eyes shooting open she pulls her hand back and turns to glare at whoever had the nerve to interrupt her kitty time. Only to freeze once she sees Alya incredulous face staring back at her. Slowly looking around, she sees the entire class staring at her... No not her, them. Everyone is staring at her and Adrien. The same Adrien she was just petting. The same Adrien she couldn't talk to without wanting to die. And she was petting him. And he purred! Why did he have to purr like Chat... Was he making fun of her? Or... Oh no now he was looking at her, this was terrible!

Adrien meanwhile is very annoyed that his time with his lady was over because, while Plagg continuously denied having anything to do with it, the fact of the matter was a scratch behind the ears felt heavenly when he was exhausted. He couldn't stop the purr when it started and was so grateful to Ladybug when she didn't say anything. Although he was curious why she was using such a light touch, he could barely feel her in some spots. When she pulled back though he frowned and was quick to see what has got her attention. Only to see Nino looking at him completely stunned, eyes darting back and forth between him and Ladybug. Wait... He was in class meaning the person behind him was... Turning around he saw Marinette go beet red, he also saw the rest of their classmates staring at them but his focus was on her. How could he apologize for purring? Why would she even start petting him in the first place? She'd never done that before the couple of times he visited her transformed.

Of course the biggest question pounding through his sleep deprived brain was "why did it feel exactly like Ladybug?" He didn't voice it, he couldn't. It was bad enough everyone in class had heard him purr, if it got back to his father he'd be done for, if it got back to LB he'd never live it down. Of course thats only if Ladybug let him keep his Miraculous after he practically exposed his identity to everyone. Trying his best to play it off he felt himself give one of his characteristic Chat grins, a part of his tired brain recognising it as the one that he only really showed Ladybug just before he was going to tease her or ask her out. Before he could say anything Marinette's eyes had widened in shock, her face had gone pale and her finger had shot out to press against his lips, effectively shushing him. Adrien couldn't help but glance down at her hand in shock. Not only was it the most intimate thing Marinette had ever done in regards to him. It was also EXACTLY the same as what Ladybug did whenever she didn't want to hear him. He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face then, or the way his heart basically burst with joy when Marinette, no, when his Lady! Giggled.

Marinette thought she was about to die when Adrien turned to her looking confused before he glanced at the rest of the class with worry in his eyes. Oh he must feel so embarrassed and it was all her fault! He probably thought she did it to humiliate him and now he'd hate her and- wait. What was he doing? She knew that look. She knew that grin. No, there was no possible way. It was a coincidence. Still she reached her hand out to stop him and, although part of her brain was short-circuiting over the fact she was touching Adrien's lips, the other part was acting on autopilot as she shushed him like she would with Chat. Of course Adrien wouldn't know that. See? He was even shocked that someone had done that to him. he'd probably be hurt or angry and then Marinette would go curl up and die but at least she wouldn't have to deal with the thoughts of him... Smiling? No, he was practically beaming as he looked down at her hand and then back at her with delight. She couldn't help the giggle at how ridiculous he looked like that. The joy practically exploded behind his eyes, followed by a lot of other emotions that she had seen time and again directed at her. Nope, that sealed it. Purring when pet? Bizarre but nothing substantial. Blonde hair and feather allergy? Probably applied to a lot of people. That same smug grin? Coincidence. The sheer look of love and adoration he had for her? Nobody did that. Nobody except her kitty though. Sure the entire class was watching them, and sure she'd have a complete meltdown later about what all this meant and whether they'd need to give up their miraculous. But for now? With Chat giving her that same look? All she could do was smile.

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

So Bethy is back with us again now that school is over, and she's going crazy with nothing to do, so she keeps leaving to go on walks or whatever, and she wanted to go to Dollar Tree to get stuff for food for the next few days. We have a whole $30 left in the PayPal and mom gave her a small list that would get us enough food for 3 days if we're careful, and just as she was about to checkout(she had mom on-call) Dave demands ice cream.

And now he's being passive-aggressive acting like he's oppressed or something cuz I called out the fact that we have no money just to waste on ice cream. Cuz 1.) he won't be sharing that with the rest of us, and 2.) he's been lying to the food bank for weeks to get extra snacks that he hoards for himself.

Dave has dozens of bags of chips, choco chip granola bars, mini rice krispy treats, and chocolate donuts he stole from all our food bank bags. He rifles through the bags in the van before he distributes them to everyone. He has several Walmart bags beside the chair he sits in, that are just filled with junk that he then hides under a blanket.

He does not need more junk, nor does he need ice cream. Chips, donuts, and rice krispies ain't enough?

1.) the majority of the PayPal money comes from my Ko-Fi. I have a say in what it is spent on as a result. 2.) he was the one who claimed, "I need $20 for gas to keep it above half!" and then went behind our backs and used $70 instead. The reason we have so little left rn is because of him specifically, especially when he admits that he was going to put in $90 but decided to stick to $70. So, since he decided that he had to fill the tank all the way, he doesn't get ice cream. Too bad. Regular food is more important.

But he's acting like some oppressed maiden now.

EDIT: I made this post on June 11th but left it in my drafts because I wasn't going to post it, however it is now June 12th and I have more to add.

So, Bethy's school has driving instructors and the teens have to take and pass the class or they can't go and get their permits. Her teacher, a dumbass who can't do basic math apparently, mis-scheduled several kids so they all have to come to school, despite school being over now, to take the rest of their classes. And these are one-on-one courses that take hours of driving to locations hours away from the school. The kids aren't getting fed despite how they had to arrive at school time and won't leave until after noon.

Bethy has to do this June 12-14 and then has nowhere to go as she waits around because there is no arranged transportation either.

This morning, Dave was complaining about having to drive her to school personally, which pissed her off since he acts like being a parent is unfair.

Remember I said he was lying to the food bank to get more food? He was saying Bethy was with us this entire time and that's why he needed more, for a growing teen girl. So, she's back with us now... and his ass didn't give her the share meant for her. He didn't just steal all the snacks added to the baggies, he literally kept the extra dinner that was meant for Bethy, for himself. And yeah, it was a small turkey sandwich but it's more than nothing!

So today, as he has to get up early and go to work, he gets up at 5 AM and is gone by 6 AM. He put together a large bag for himself full of leftovers from yesterday(pasta and a sandwich), 3 bags of chips, several granola bars, rice krispy treats, water, slim jims, and some kind of cake thing.

And he couldn't spare one damn thing for his child. To make it worse... he has cash on hand and didn't think to give her any despite knowing she wouldn't be having breakfast or lunch. He woke her up a few minutes before they had to leave, so she did not get to eat or even prepare leftover pasta for herself.

She arrived at school at 6:30 AM and they wouldn't let her in, so she had to sit there until 8 AM. THEN, she had to do the whole driving course thing, which last 3 hours for her, and then wait for her partner who finished. Dave picked her up around 1 PM, and then forced her to sit in his boss' truck for 5 hours and didn't think to get her any food or give her his own food.

So they go to the food bank before coming back, and Bethy is exhausted and hungry and hot, but she wants to go and see if she can apply for a job at a nearby pizza place since she worked at their other location last year. Dave hands her $20 and tells her to go to Dollar Tree and get him Pepsi and ice cream while giving me a nasty look.

...I'm such an unfair person, huh? How dare I think to preserve what little money we have?

Anyway, I've gone around pulling everything we have together and it mostly is canned mixed veggies, off-brand unsweetened apple sauce, and what I have left in terms of granola bars.

But you know, we should be spending money on ice cream and soda instead of meals.

[livsworld-ndstyle]

save the date

tomorrow.

2/26/24.

save the date.

at least for me.

i have the meeting which i mentioned a couple of posts back and i’ve been scared for it. AND ITS TOMORROW!?

also why is there a big gap in between save the date and the word tomorrow?-

also i digressed a lot teehee!

second period. 8:32am. i’m so mad that it’s immediately after february / president’s day break, even though my past meeting dates, which i have memorized, have been in a similar timeframe.

this year - 2/26/24

last year - 3/1/23

the year before last - 3/21/22

but anyways i have to miss spanish class for the second year in a row!! my spanish teacher is gonna flip, im in a college level and college credit bearing spanish class and its the second highest. we’re prepping for the national spanish exam, which is a standardized spanish exam that i have taken in years past.

last year i got bronze, the year before last i got an honorable mention. this year i want silver and next year i want gold to show progressive improvement.

some other patterns i’ve noticed with my meetings is the teacher and class they choose that i should miss

10th & 11th: missed spanish, chose my math teacher to be the general education teacher.

8th & 9th: missed social studies/global, chose my english teacher to be the general education teacher.

6th & 7th: missed support class, chose my social studies teacher to be the general education teacher.

so i’m highly convinced there’s a method to the madness.

anyways now i’m going to go into depth of each of the invited teachers.

if you remember this pic:

yes i have this picture somewhere in my favorites album, it’s easier to access that way.

also on the doc it has my real name (cuz liv is derived from olivia) but PLEASE DO NOT CALL ME OLIVIA. ty.

person #1: the chairperson/psychologist

if i get any testing done within the triennial period, like how i did my freshman year, i would get pulled out to take a variety of tests. i remember being so mad when i realized my IQ from grade 4 is the same as it was in grade 9, and i’m in the above average range for VSI.

which is insane. i used to be below average for VSI.

VSI, or Visual Spatial Index, is a subtest in the WISC-V tests for an ability to evaluate visual details and understand visual-spatial relationships to construct geometric designs from a model. (Child Psychologist AU).

the link to that article ->

also i don’t live in AUS, but this is the best definition on it.

2. my math teacher, also my favorite teacher! she recommended me to take two math classes, which is a shock even for me and also i love her so much because it’s fun to see her teach and her teaching style brings so much joy to my life and i can’t wait to see what the rest of the year has in store.

the only part i’m worried about, well, maybe two things.

general ed teachers have to take notes on me leading up to the meeting…and i don’t know what’s contained in these notes she’s written, so yeah that’s one. also, i told her that if she ever sees me distracted., she can redirect me — i guess i have never realized just how much i do get distracted until she tells me to stay on task when we do group work!

pretty much every group i’ve been in with my friends (so like clover, daniela, and meredith) we’ve been told to stop talking about other topics, and the only reason why is because im there.

clover & daniela normally work alone, together, without meredith and i and they’re super productive. they talk AND get work done.

meredith & i are the opposite. we work together any chance we get when she doesn’t pick partners and while meredith and i work we both distract each other.

the only annoying problem is, every time i get redirected from talking to meredith, we are always talking about a math problem.

when i got redirected with clover and daniela, we were distinctly talking about a different topic…!

3. my case manager/special ed teacher:

well i think she has a plethora of things to say about me. but like a plethora of GOOD things. because im a great student. i have a 92 in english and she’s the coteacher so it works out perfectly for me! :)

plus my writing is super strong, i wrote a 507-word response for english when it was supposed to be 5-7, and my other english teacher wrote this lovely comment!

you don’t have to read the whole thing, especially if you haven’t read the great gatsby.

but my english teacher gave 7 perfect scores on this assignment so of course i’m so proud of this.

4. my guidance counselor

even though i just saw her for my junior meeting, i know she also has a plethora of good things to say, so im not worried about her input.

5. my speech teacher

worried- i have not gone to speech in a while, either because my case manager hasn’t sent me my speech schedule and because i use the period i have speech to finish any tests so my teachers don’t hunt me down in the testing room…which HAS happened.

6. also not mentioned, at least on the document, but my other general class teachers get an email the monday of and have to write like 3-6 sentences on my progress in their class.

the other 3 blurred people are my parents and i., but i don’t want information out there on my parents on tumblr.

also i accidentally blurred the location. it’s supposed to be a video conference, but i told the committee to make it in-person and now both my parents are coming so yay!

anyways this is a long post but i hope you enjoyed! i wrote this at my local hairdresser 🤗

im gonna prob post after the meeting, so like period 3 or 5 or even 9 about what went down in a new post.

thanks for reading :)

ps if you’re still there, i’m gonna make a new style where i use the quote text as a header for my posts.

bye now! :)

[ladyazulina]

Azu is Talking - The One With the Bee Story

If you know, you know.

It took me three weeks to binge-watch the ten-season series Friends, so the least I had to leave with was the episode titles naming.

There is a bee in here, I swear. But first…

Last Sunday was my eighth-month celebration with my partner, those days are Sacred™️, so we're always trying our best to leave them free for each other.

I bet you know where this is going already.

My partner had the first session of a game campaign scheduled for that day, and he didn't notice until it was late. It brought him problems (with me), I'm not gonna lie. But I behaved as a good girl and didn't bother him too much apart from letting him know early he would have to make up for it.

My partner Tomas is playing Candela Oscura with PantslessTables every Sunday for the rest of the month ✨

To be fair, the day started weirdly, so it wasn't a usual monthly day. I didn't get to dress up, the session lasted longer than expected, and I played the waiting game even though I could have done lots of things. I wasn't feeling well, things were out of place inside of me, and it took me too long to notice the 🌈 post-hormone state ✨. So when the stream ended and he was back, things were… a bit awkward.

Things were really weird at home as well, so everything was feeling a bit too much and out of place. Nothing was flowing, and I grew angsty and overwhelmed.

We got to go through our monthly ritual anyway and, at the end of the day, we decided to watch a movie.

What we didn't know was that we unknowingly had a guest.

Before starting the movie, my sister warned me that there was a bee in the room, near the lightbulb (right above us). Which was weird because it was long after sunset, the poor thing surely got lost. I wasn't going to let a bee mess with my already frayed mood, so I settled to watch the movie.

Not even twenty minutes in, I had to ask my partner to pause it cause something fell on me. Obviously. I knew it was going to happen.

My sister was messing around trying to get the bee to leave the room, opening the door, turning on the lights outside, and turning off ours. I didn't even move when I felt it fall. My sister, though, grew hysterical.

I was eerily quiet, getting up and slowly moving out of the room for the bee to notice the lights and fly off. My mom was around, so she confirmed when it left me. The detail is that it wasn't my first time dealing with a bee 🐝 Sadly, on my first time I wasn't awake and it didn't live long after it stung me. But I have always been allergic to stings and insect bites, so it was An Experience™️, and I didn't want to repeat it.

Bees don't freak me out and I do my best to try to protect them. I like the little ones, but they are just kind of dangerous for me, you know?

On Monday, I was supposed to go to college. But I woke feeling heavy and wrong, so I decided to skip classes. Which led to an unfortunate chain of events involving the impromptu visit of my dad, stuff getting worse than before, and loss of water. The usual—my dad trying to fix stuff around always ends in a bigger mess. I would have felt a lot better if I had just forced myself to go to college, I swear.

I would have also paid another visit to the photo place, but stuff just didn't happen.

It wasn't a Creative day either, but I got to start the [REDACTED] adventure's edition… which technically turns it into a Creative day, right? Because that's creative work. But I wasn't feeling exactly creative.

A storm was also rolling around the country. Review Tuesday started with heavy rain. We had a seven-hour power outage during which I read—a lot—and did my English class homework. Most of it. There were a few exercises that needed listening and my weak Internet was barely holding messaging. But I had to upload it before Thursday, so I was glad I could finally start it. And finish it. I did work on that after the power was back.

As you may have noticed, I did not get to post this week's review. I instead scheduled the second post of my Personal Campaign in Iron Valley (which is coming in two weeks!). Didn't have that much time, so I leaned to progress a bit more with the [REDACTED] adventure instead.

Iron Valley, Linney's Campaign, is being live every Tuesday.

I have to go back to the project edition and I also have a book to edit as well, so I have to fix my schedule real fast real soon. Not easy to do when your energies are really low and scarce. I have to choose my daily battles.

Among these wasn’t moving the ASL night lesson to Tuesday instead of doing it on Wednesday as we agreed because… someone had some meetings scheduled on Wednesday night.

We’re going with Learn How to Sign channel and we’re a week away from finishing with the 150 Essentials ASL Signs. Going strong 💪🏼

At least we did that then, ‘cause Working Wednesday wasn't a great day either. We were still on yellow alert country-wise and I was as gray as the day outside. More or less until mid-afternoon, when it suddenly cleared and was so sunny it felt like a trap. I had the intention to go to the photo place in the morning, but it wasn't the appropriate weather for it, so I stayed home. And in bed until lunch, around one pm. If you know me, that alone can say a lot about my mood. I did tried to get up and busy myself, but it was hard to do until way after the coffee break. My coffee is getting bleh lately, I will have to check every step of the process from real close to figure out why…

What I ended up doing, though, was posting my workshops. All of them. Finally. I'll probably be doing an Instagram post next week or something, but for now, you can have an early look.

Get more from Escribe con [Write with] Celeste 💙✨ on Patreon

I have five tiers, I explain them on Patreon, but I can summarize them for you:

Collaborative Writing. A method to write in pairs (take your time, but I just only require of you to pay for it once—USD$22).

Let's write together. Collaborative Writing’s practical tier. Not required, just in case you want to keep trying out the method with the same or other partners—USD$1 monthly.

Let's write a story. A four-step guide to creating an outline for your story. For guiding assistance, USD$20 monthly.

Development Only group. With eleven spots available to accompany you in your writing process—USD$11 monthly.

Planning and Development group. With five spots available to schedule your writing routine and reports of progress while accompanying you in your writing process—USD$15 monthly.

If I can help you in any way, please reach out. I can do my best ☺️

On Backstage Thursday I finished the first of the two books on schedule. But I was feeling awfully. It took me too long to get up and prepare, and I think I mostly did because I had a virtual class at mid-afternoon. Even though the meetings are just to solve doubts and answer questions, there a small fraction of the grade going towards assistance, so… I wasn't going to lose it. You never know when you need extra points to save a subject.

It was a total waste of my time, though, but that's just how it is. I worked on my themed task and I'm one week away to finish the section I'm doing. Which means progress. Visible progress, finally. Didn't know it was going to feel this satisfying.

My partner arrived “late” from his face-to-face class so we didn't have our coffee break together. We spent the night instead and watched our weekly Supernatural episodes 💕 New inspiration for a brand new short game sparkled there and, guys, I take inspiration from everything ✨ It's starting to become a Which-One-Is-Worth-It-To-Work-On Problem™️.

Secret Friday was a bummer day. I'm glad I have almost everything ready for my partner's birthday in a week, but the extra time I could have spent on extra stuff? It's killing me. But I was going through stuff that seemed very likely to do the same to me without moving an inch.

I was expecting an overnight recovery after three days of being held hostage, and it happened, but the side effects were destructive.

I spent the whole day in bed, my partner keeping me company in between his own responsibilities, getting up occasionally thanks to something that wasn't even will. I started feeling slightly better over the day and assumed I could go back on my feet on Saturday, but…

At least I was able to work on my themed task on Playful Saturday. I already reached the author and even received her feedback, so I did post my review on Itch.io. My TTRPG updates have a wait list, so it will take a little while before I start posting the small story I wrote with the game. You can read the review in the meantime though, and follow me through Itch.io—I will certainly notify there when I start posting the story.

I was really low on energy because the side effects were physical pain and every muscle was hurting. As well as my head. I have been to doctors, gone to neurologists, tested pills, and even did an MRI scan—I’m “fine”. My head is killing me, though. And it kills my soul hearing my mom telling me to rely on alcohol and drinks in the meantime to appease and soften the pain ‘cause pills aren't helping me any. Because we don't know what to do. It's been a long time, seven years alone since the migraines came to stay 24/7, but I must be going through a season if it's getting unbearable again. I mean, I guess.

There are still things I can look forward to, but sometimes, when the pain is too much and the relief is close to none, I don't see anything. I know those things exist, I know those things are close, but… the pain is here, the pain is heavy. It's suffocating. It's unbeatable.

I've long lost the endurance battle.

Anyway, I'm going to the photo place for my passport one last time next week before giving up. If they don't take that last photo, I'll throw hands and go for an in-person appointment, even though more likely I would have to pay the fee again, which is A pain in the ass. I can't let it drag, I have to get my passport this month—if possible, this week. I need to start a visa process.

I should start soon the next ARC book as well, the days are rolling by. And get back to editing, this week was a joke on that regard. Also, I have to finish the [REDACTED] adventure’s edition ‘cause time is the only thing I do NOT have left. A lot of things to go through. I hope I'm ready.

[musicthrob]

Jil Sander Fall/Winter 2024 Women's and Men's Collection, by Lucie and Luke Meier

March 6, 2024

For fans of fashion runways, 80s dream pop, Mk.gee, Dijon, and Tyler, The Creator

For the past few days, a few artists have been reposting clips of this on their stories. Finally, I had the chance to watch it while waiting for my bus to arrive after class in the drizzling LA rain. With my blue hydroflask sandwiched in my arm, I watched attentively as I could with my umbrella and phone in my hands, wiping and smearing the raindrops that fell on my phone every few seconds, with my earphones snaked into my jacket so they would not fall in a puddle. Then, my bus arrived and I frantically reached for the bus card in my left front pocket of my jeans to tap the card reader. I comfily sat on a lime-green open seat, shifting my backpack to my side, and continued to watch it on the bus till I arrived at my place. I can’t lie…this is the coolest I have ever felt sitting on the bus…watching a runway show on my phone…who am I…

Focusing first on the music, I loved hearing the live versions of these Mk.gee songs! The dreamy melancholic atmosphere of songs like “How Many Miles” and “Dream Police” were beautifully accompanied by slow-edited shots of the models walking the runway. However, “Alesis”, one of the standouts on his newest album to me, was also really a standout for me in this setlist. At 6 minutes, the beat picks up and the shots of the models walking at their regular pace fit really well. I also just really love the live intro for “Alesis” as well. The musical outro for the show at around 13 minutes was also pretty much perfect to me. Accompanied by all the models returning to walk at the end, I think it very well encapsulated the triumphant moment and ended everything on a beautiful note (literally). 

Remembering how Tyler, The Creator scored his first fashion show a few years ago, this is very exciting to me and I just love to see how the music and fashion world continues to intersect. Shoutout to Co-Creative Directors (and life partners) Lucie and Luke Meier for producing this really cool show (#goals). Hiring Mk.gee to do the music was very tasteful and I wish I was sitting courtside…on this runway.

I am not well-versed in the fashion realm, but I was very intrigued by the long coats and lengthy pieces, the shaggy bags and bags with straps, the flat-bottom shoes, and the slicked hair and hair caps. Super cool. I would love to ask Lucie and Luke Meier about their choices and intentions with the navy circular fixtures and seafoam green wall and the lighting. The choices struck me because the few runways that I have seen have the spotlight on the models, while the audience is in a dark atmosphere. But I guess I was also just watching it through the lens of Mk.gee’s music and imagining the show with some chrome circular fixtures instead and dimmed lighting to fit the vibes of the songs.

...Later that evening, I had a meeting to attend and it was raining even harder. With the back of my jeans kinda soaked from the angle the rain was falling and my earphones snaked into my jacket so they would not fall into now big ponds, I waited at a different bus stop under my umbrella listening to Mk.gee’s Two Star & The Dream Police. The road glistened from the rain, the stoplights and the headlights of cars shined bright enough for me to see the rainfall and the lights reflected on the wet pavement. Mk.gee’s Two Star & The Dream Police was the perfect soundtrack for me waiting, longing, and yearning for the bus that did not end up coming and the perfect soundtrack for my eventual long uphill trek to my meeting in the rain.

Links:

Mk.gee’s Two Star & The Dream Police: https://mkgee.co/twostarandthedreampolice

Photos from this collection: https://www.jilsander.com/en-us/men%27s-and-women%27s%3Cbr%3Efall-winter/fw24mw.html

Meet the Meiers: https://www.ssense.com/en-us/editorial/fashion/meet-the-meiers

Men’s Fall-Winter 2022 Show | LOUIS VUITTON (scored by Tyler, The Creator): https://www.youtube.com/live/1lztJ_1rY6M?si=W792trGUAAdM-zOR

[frenchfries02]

(1) I then started.

I dreamed a lot while sleeping, before waking up. The day's too cold this time. Dreams activate for me whenever I sleep for the 2nd time. First thing that came to mind, going out of bed, was to finish my rough drafts for our upcoming report in college. But our freaking potato shid PC sucks, it died 2 times while writing for my stuffs. Thank goodness my brother was a geek in fixing that PC of ours, cus he was using my laptop for his classes as well. I waited for him for like 30 min or so. He decently plugged out & in the ram stick and brushed off some dust inside the CPU.

Then tenen, it was fixed, it doesn't die anymore. In the middle of doing it, Goddamnit, I felt something. It came * facepalm * my freaking ketchup days ( basically red days for gurls, u know what I mean * wink * ). Thankfully after that, me and my partner for the report finished the drafts that were going to put for the PowerPoint.

It was decent, and thank thy thee's I will be able to take a breather, my pending works wouldn't be that much because I was already getting dizzy from low blood and migraine because of the ketchup volcano and my blurry vision. Then my bf dm'ed me uwu hoho. What a motivation for me. We talked ofc and I am going to keep those momental gems huehue. Then I washed the dishes, my mom asked for me to chop the recipes for our upcoming dinner, and then I took a nap.

I got interrupted again from the cold, slept in 5pm - 7pm and got woken up by cold. It was a climate change from our country. The cold that was supposed to be in December, got delayed and moved to January to February haha. Crazy. I know.

Then I saw my favorite author, posting the promotion of his book 2 collector's edition. Even though I still wanted to sleep, I watched it because I love his book. It was also illustrated from amazing artist that's why I was also entertained. I love art. My sleepy head got away because of it but I'm so sad because I don't haaavveee enoughh money huhu. To buy that edition :< .

My boyfie chatted again, welp ofc. Babe time again. Omo. He really wanted to date again but I am having my ketchup days and I'm so very not in the mood and I have class tomorrow. But still.. I agreed, we're all gonna die anyways haha why not spend the time right, we never know what comes after some days. I told him as well this time that I dreamed about him us riding a bike something etc.. we nearly got into an accident in that dream. He compared it to his dream as well before, same thing happened and same place. He said that dreams are indeed weird. I agreed.

It was an exhausting day. I am still badly craving for sleep and french fries. Life is short. I hope mine would be shorter tomorrow XD.

[letsgetshlushies]

TW: all kinds of mental issues, trauma dumping, talking bad about my friend etc

I finally reached my fucking breaking point. I've been busy with uni and all kinds of other stuff and now I'm on break between the 2nd and 3rd semester. I go to "art" school but it's more like digital art like programming, web design, game design, film etc. I'm working on my final projects for this semester and I'm doing pretty well. For my film class I wanted to film a trailer for a non existing 80s horror slasher and my friend from uni volunteered to work with me on the project (so the grade will count for both of us) I asked my best friend like a month before break started if she and her bf would play the main characters in the trailer and she said yes. From there on we planned everything, scouted locations, made probs etc. At one point my best friend says it would be nice if we could wait with filming until feb 13th because then she will be done with her last exam and i said sure, i know this is important for you so I will just work on my other projects before that.

In the last few days since the 13th i asked her countless times when she and her bf will be ready to film and i never got a proper answer. My project partner now managed to get the filming equipment from the school and on wednesday we would be good to go. I ask my best friend again if she has time from wednesday on. She said no. She works from today until Thursday, which i fully understand, but then goes to tell me she will spend thursday to sunday at her bfs place? Why? She knows i have to finish the project until the 5th. That would give us less than a week to film, cut and edit. I'm so fucking mad at her. If I would have known this I wouldve asked someone else or decided on a different idea entirely. I waited until the 13th so she could study for her exam and now that its time for my project she just goes to spend time with her bf? And my project partner is obviously affected by this too but Miss Antisocial obviously couldn't care less about anyone but herself or her boyfriend. I get it, you hate people and you're better than everyone else but why are you making that someone elses problem. I'm crying so much because this is my project and my responsibility and it's all falling apart right before my eyes. I was so excited to finally do this idea, especially with my best friend and I was so glad to have found someone who would do the project with me. We always say that we are soulmates. Eachothers ride or die. So why is she being so selfish now?? I just don't understand. I never had a single real friend up until 9th grade and the moment we met I worshipped her. And now it turns out she's just like everyone else. I am so sick of people. I am so sick of everyone. All humans suck and I wish this fucking planet would just explode already. I don't wanna be one of those cynical assholes that say you can't rely on anyone but obviously it's true. I have absolutely no idea how to manage all of this now. Why can she not put her plans aside for my sake just like i did for her? Is my education not important? Am I not important enough for her to do that for me? I hate people and I wish I wasn't one of them. People who will drop you as soon as they have found someone else. She started replacing me with her boyfriend the moment they got together. And my aroace ass doesn't understand. I hate love and I hate people who love, it's fucking disgusting and annoying and all my friends are dating and no one gives a shit about me. Friends are only placeholders until people find romantic love and its absolutely disgusting. All my friends with partners will ignore me and my messages until they finally can spare a second to type a one word reply. I'm so sick of everyone. I feel so alienated from everyone. I will never be able to related to anyone. I feel like nothing is real. I feel inhuman, like I'm a different species that got dropped on earth and I'm only here to observe. And now I'm crying and shaking because of that dumb fucking project. And as always I know I will get through this. And I also know I can't be mad at my best friend. She is my best friend after all. And if I would get mad she would play the victim card like she alwaya does. She will guilttrip me and trauma dump on me and tell me she will kill herself until I fold. I'm always the one who backs down. I'm always the one who understands. I never complain, I never tell anyone about my issues, I just nod my head and listen. That's what this fucking blog is for i guess. This will be the first time I tag a post because maybe someone has an answer for me.

[angel-anachronism]

can you do a platonic noel x reader? any scenario you wish to write would be heavily appreciated <3 thank u!

Of course! Noel is actually my favorite character from RTC (along with Ricky) So this will be fun to write! Sorry if this didn't come out how you wanted, but I literally came up with the idea for this scenario in like 1 minute, so the idea isn't really that developed, and the story turned out kind of cheesy （◞‸◟）

Thanks to your request, here's your order of a scenario I came up with! The scenario is about how (Y/N) and Noel are both in a group project at school, and are assigned to write a story together. This was an excellent way for Noel to introduce (Y/N) to his very own original character, Monique Gibeau.

Also, sorry for not writing in almost a week! I was busy with school, but now I'm free to write because It's a winter vacation (for me at least)!

By the time I'm posting this, it will be Christmas eve, so for anybody that celebrates it, please take this as a present (also for people who don't celebrate it, since you guys also deserve a present from me)

(Tw: mentions of stabbing in (Y/N) and Noel's story that they were making)

Word count: 1,007 words

Monique Gibeau's happy ending (PLATONIC NOEL+Gn!READER)

(𝓨/𝓝)'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥

I was tapping my pencil against the desk as I was listening to the teacher talk about something. I wasn't really paying attention since this was the last period of school, so the only words I heard were "blah blah blah, Mr/Miss/Mx. (L/N) and Mr. Gruber, blah blah blah". Yeah, it was pretty boring to be hones- WAIT DID THE TEACHER MENTION MY NAME? AND ON TOP OF THAT, NOEL'S????

I looked at my friend Noel, who was sitting next to the person that was sitting behind me, and he also had the same shocked expression. as me.

He mouthed "what do we do?" And I just shrugged and put my head on my desk as an answer. The bell finally rang and the bell signaled the end of the day. We all got up from our seats and I walked to Noel since I think that we got assigned some kind of project.

"So...We're assigned to do a story, right?" I asked. Noel sighed and nodded, before he got his backpack and walked away, together with me.

"Yeah…and by we, you mean you and I," he whispered, trying to not bring attention to us as we were both walking out of school. "Oh…" I said, trying not to let my voice sound disappointed. He smiled. "Well, at least we'll have each other as a partner! That has to be better than going alone!" He laughed. I chuckled. "Yeah…" I said again before we went outside. It was still snowing and the ground looked like glass under my feet. I grabbed Noel's hand and pulled him towards the coffee shop where our classmates would skip class to go. I'm sure most of them wouldn't be there since they already went home or to their clubs, but I wanted to make sure we'd get something to eat before going to his house to work on the project. When we came in, it was actually fairly empty. There were maybe 5 people in total, excluding the two of us, which made things a lot easier, and we found a small table by the window so we could sit and eat without being bothered. Noel sat down first and then patted the chair next to him. I sat down and took off my coat before Noel took out his Chromebook that we had to carry at school every day.

"How about we start writing the project here so that we can have time to only edit it when we go to my house," Noel suggested. "Sure, sounds good!" I said. "Do we have a certain theme we need to follow for this project?" I asked. "Uh, yeah. A love story!" Noel said, looking kind of excited "Ooohhhh…" I smiled, thinking about what kind of story this could be. "Do you have any ideas about what characters we should write about?" I asked. "Umm, well…I've been meaning to ask you if I could tell you something personal." He said sheepishly. "Oh! Uh, sure! Only if you feel comfortable with it!" I replied, getting excited.

"Okay so…uhm…" He began, clearly not wanting to say whatever he wanted to say, but I could tell it was important. "Well, it's sorta embarrassing to say…" He muttered. "Tell me! I promise I won't laugh!" I reassured him. "Okay…um…" He started again. "It's kinda embarrassing, but…" he looked back into my eyes "but I thought you might understand." "Understand what?" I asked. He bit his lip. "That I created this character named Monique Gibeau as an alter ego of mine…" he mumbled again. "She was always one of my favorite characters ever because she's so independent and brave, but she's always faced with a bad ending…" He added quietly. I felt sorry for him.

"How about we write a happy ending for her in this story we're creating?" I asked, giving him a melancholic smile. He looked slightly surprised. "A happy ending?! Are you serious?!" He looked at me with big eyes. I giggled. "Of course! What kind of hero doesn't want a happy ending?" I said jokingly. "Plus, this story is based on your favorite character, so why not give the whole thing a try?" I tried to encourage him. "I'm not really a fan of happy endings, but sure, let's try I guess…" he said. He seemed to think for a minute, then he got excited.

"Alright, so how about we start with a plotline for this?" He asked, pulling up his notes. "So basically Monique is a hooker from post-war France, and one day she kills her pimp. After getting away with murder, she falls in love with someone who doesn't love her, and-" "Woah Noel! That's a novel-worthy plot you gave there!" I interrupted with a twinkle in my eyes. "But we do need to write a love story with a happy ending!" I continued

"Well, Monique loves this guy called Marcel, and he loves her too, although he's afraid that if he tells Monique that he wants her love, she'll laugh at him. Then she decides to meet him after her shift ends, and she gets stabbed in the back by Marcel. She then wakes up in the house of a nurse named…" he trailed off as he looked over a few pages. He turned around and smiled at me. "I got it! The nurse's name is Elisa, and Monique finally feels true love when she gets to know Elisa. Done, that's the happy ending that you so wanted." Noel said, trying to look bored, but underneath that bored facade, you could see that he actually had fun making that story. I smiled at him. "You really are a creative genius! Let's start writing now." I said, drinking my coffee. He grinned and he began writing. I can't wait to finish this story that Noel came up with within 1 minute.

𝑅𝑒𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔 >> 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 (𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈)