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lostinwildflowers · 2 years ago

Text

Promenade

Erwin Smith x Reader

Summary: A war of dance is upon you, and somehow your partner is your rival. What will happen when it is time for the ultimate dance?

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Rivals to lovers, angst, maybe some harsh language, lots of dance verbiage, some moments of ✨passion✨

For reference:

-The Tango for this fic: "Libertango"

A/N: Hi guys!! There was so much love for "The Dance", that I decided to continue! This is also set in the same AU as "Quickstep"! Please enjoy my loves❤️-Birch<3

Part 1 - "The Dance"

Part 3 - "The Olympic Games"

Black-heeled dance shoes glide across the gymnasium floor, smooth like skating on ice. Red strappy heels were in rhythm to the music, spinning on the flat-bottomed toe with a feisty elegance.

Sharp, steely blue eyes locked with a pair of (colored) ones, a constant fight to see whose spirit would break first. It was a question in the firm touch on the waist from a rough and practiced hand, to the lofted grip of nails biting into his shirt.

It was war.

Who would break first? Who would lose their cool? Who would be the one to break the illusion of romance?

The blonde you were interlocked with would not stand down. He was a warrior in his own right. One that was trained from the moment he could walk. Taught to be a strong, demanding, powerful leader that always demanded the best.

You, a lady throughout the ages. One who was lectured on independence, knowledge, and the way to listen when told. Yet you learned on your own too, fighting your own battles, learning to throw your own punches. Leading a life so as to never have a dampened fire to the burning spirit in your soul.

Thus, the music of "La Cumparsita" floating in the air was the sound of swords clashing together to you. It was the creak and hiss of bows drawing their arrows back before letting them fly at their opponent.

But your opponent was not backing down.

Erwin Smith was still as unwavering as ever, a strong wall made of hard stone standing in front of you, taking each casualty in stride. He was simply waiting for your own defense to shatter and fall apart in front of him.

He was waiting for the opportunity to strike so he could claim the win.

The two of you were locked into a physical and mental battle, your feet never once touching, and the fierce eye contact never breaking. You were determined to not give in, and so was he.

"This is all wrong!" a voice cuts through the music, making your focus shatter like a rock thrown at a piece of stained glass. Your defense is instantly down, and then the gym goes silent.

Your feet stop moving, as do Erwin's. The battlefield is at a stalemate as the instructor walks over to the two of you, clipboard in hand.

Your gaze glosses over as John, the instructor, stops beside you two, standing with his hands on his hips. There was a look of disapproval written all over his features, glaring at the two of you.

What you seem to miss, is that when you break eye contact with Erwin to look at John, his eyes never leave the curve of your cheek.

His hold on you never changes, but his blue eyes slowly and methodically flit around the features of your face. They note the way your jaw was just barely clenched in frustration at the lull in practice.

He sees the whisps of hair that were slowly falling out of place from the sides of your black headband. He could see the small scar on your cheek from where your cat had scratched you as a child.

Erwin even allowed himself to look at the grimace on your lips. The way your eyelashes batted a few times in confusion, trying to process the mistake you had made.

In what was barely a second, Erwin had taken in every detail of you without scrutiny. And though he would never say it out loud, you were much more beautiful up close than in any competition the two of you had been pitted against each other in.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious to Erwin's gaze, as you were still trying to figure out what had gone wrong with the set. We were on time, the steps were right, and we even managed to place that fan just correctly, you thought to yourself.

"This is all wrong," John repeats once he's next to you. He whips his head to look at Erwin, points a finger at him, and grumbles, "You look like you would sacrifice her to the wolves if you could!"

You flick your eyes to Erwin, where you could see his eyes tear away from your own in the briefest moment. Then you see the look on his face change as he processes John's words. Oh, he so would if he could, you think.

Yet you're taken aback when John swivels and glares at you, pointing a finger in your face. He shakes his head from side to side and yells, "And you look like you hate him!" Not far off.

John takes a step back, jerking his hands, and continues, "This is tango! This is the dance of passion, not murder! You two need to look like you're in love and can't hold yourself back. If you don't, you will never win at the qualifier."

Never win. Those words ringing in your head made your stomach drop. Never win? Just because of Erwin? I don't think so.

That was all you needed to hear. You have wanted to qualify for the Olympics your whole life. You had been preparing for this qualifier your entire life. It wasn't your fault that Hayden didn't work out as a partner.

And now? You had one of the best tango dancers in the world holding onto you. While Erwin was a heartless, controlling jerk, you needed this to work- even if that meant pushing aside your rivalry.

You give John a quiet "yes sir" in affirmation, with Erwin doing similarly. As John walks back over to the sound system, Erwin releases you to walk back to the beginning of the set.

"No," John calls after Erwin, "La Cumparsita is not going to work for you two. You need something with more... passion."

---

8 minutes, 43 seconds. That's how long you had before your Olympic qualifier. 7 minutes, 5 seconds. That's how long you had before you would be dancing in the most important competition of your life with your rival.

You weren't sure how your dance routine would come together in competition. You had only started it after John reassigned your song choice. People usually spend weeks perfecting every single move in a routine, but you had merely days.

Deep down, you knew there was only one way this could end well, and it would be if you could trust Erwin. Trust in his steps, trust the guide in his hand and his body.

But he was so unpredictably predictable. You never knew what he was thinking or planning, and that was something you could count on- that he would change the plan in the middle of it to suit his wants.

So, there were really only two things you had to do out there. Follow, and perform.

It was that simple, yet it seemed like a nightmare. Before your partner had bailed on you, all you could think of was this day. Dancing in your qualifier, confident as ever, dressed to the nines.

Now, you were watching the pairs before you go with a pit in your stomach. Your competitors were good. Too good for you to make a foolish mistake.

The unsettled feeling in your stomach only seemed to worsen when Erwin appeared by your side, groomed to perfection.

His blonde locks were gelled back to keep the hair out of his eyes, reinforcing the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his square jaw. A crisp white button-down that was tailored to his every need rested on his torso, a simple black vest over top of it.

He wore a matching set of black slacks and his shiny black ballroom shoes. And, because he was Erwin, he had a red bowtie that matched just flawlessly to the sparkly red dress you wore.

On the other hand, your hair was kept in an elegant fashion, with just a few curls hanging loose around your face, and a small red clip behind your left ear to accentuate your pair of diamond earrings.

You also were wearing a matching gold necklace that you had been saving for this day, a small red gem hanging as the pendant over your heart.

Your red dress was gorgeous. It was everything you had ever dreamed it of being; a high-low styled cut, with the front ending just at your knee while the back trailed down to your ankles.

It wasn't just red though, it was glimmering. From top to bottom, you were glowing in the dark lights of the wings to the ballroom floor.

In addition to your dress and hair, you wore your red strappy ballroom heels to go with your outfit. Your makeup was simple with just some shiny gold shadow on your lids, accompanied by some dark mascara and a bold red lip.

Erwin coughed lightly, clearing his throat softly to get your attention. Your (colored) eyes glance up toward him, where you find his steely gaze already looking at you.

A sudden wave of butterflies washes over you, and you suddenly feel lightheaded with the pounding of your heart in your chest. He looked... better than you expected.

Not that you thought he would look bad, of course. You knew Erwin was considered handsome, especially in the ballroom world. You couldn't find anyone more put together than him.

The sound of the crowd cheering distracts you from your thoughts for a moment, (colored) orbs flashing out to look at the dance floor. In your moment of distraction, Erwin's eyes look you up and down, taking in your elegant and distinguished appearance.

He takes a deep breath and then murmurs, "You look nice." Your head snaps to the left to look at him, hardly comprehending what he said. Me? Is he talking to me?

The two of you are interrupted as the pair of competitors comes walking off of the floor between Erwin and you. You take a step back and apologize, the couple splitting the distance and sliding through the narrow gap.

Your gaze trails after them, the thoughts of the conversation just a second ago slipping your mind. Just as you start to remember what he said, he beats you to it.

"Y/n," he starts, his eyes very serious, "Can you allow yourself to trust me out there on the floor? This is the only way for us to score well."

Your body freezes up in surprise for a moment, your painted-red lips hanging open. You think better of it and shut your mouth, giving him a gentle nod.

"Not like I have much of a choice now, do I?" you half-heartedly laugh, your nerves coming slightly undone. Your hands involuntarily wring together, trying to put your worries at ease.

Erwin takes a step toward you, covering the distance that had been made by the dancers. He looks down at you with a different expression in his eye, one that seemed kinder. Softer.

"There is always a choice. It just depends on if it's the right one or not," he murmurs, his hand coming up under your chin to force your eyes to look up at him.

When you look into what seems to be the ice plains of his eyes, you see no lie. No deception. Just what he believes is the honest truth.

You swallow thickly and mumble, "I can do it. Just give me the chance to be the star, alright? I need to qualify. I need the attention on me."

Erwin gives you a small nod, releasing you from his grasp. His gaze turns to the floor, where the next performers are in the middle of their song.

"You will be the star, I'll make sure of it."

---

Tap, tap.... click, tap, tap, click.

Blinding white lights flood the ballroom floor, the rays bouncing off of the dark mahogany-colored wood. The dark pine in comparison to your dress and accents made you stand out like a glistening ruby.

Your heart started pounding harder and harder when you caught sight of the judges in their stands. It skipped a beat when you could see your instructors and teammates in the crowds, nerves written on their own faces.

The only thing that was grounding you was what was held in your hand, which was Erwin's rough one, leading you out into the middle of the dance floor.

You couldn't stop the feeling of being overwhelmed by the lights, the cameras flashing, and the sharp and intense looks from the judges. It was too much.

"Hey, eyes on me," the deep voice comes from next to you. Erwin whisks you to face him, the crowd settling down as the ballroom lights dim, leaving a spotlight on you and him.

You do as he says, your eyes flickering up to meet his steady and calm gaze, giving you the chance to still the slight shake in your knees, and warm your cool fingertips up.

Erwin offers you the invite to dance with his free hand, and you accept as if it were second nature, setting up into your standard ballroom dance frame for tango.

You were close to him, that's how this was meant to go. But it made your heart pound in your chest harder than you liked, and it made your throat dry up with the want to drink water.

Yet when you looked up into Erwin's blue eyes, it was like the very blue of his eyes were cool fresh water puddles that quenched your thirst. Every moment waiting for the music to start went from feeling like a year to just a second.

Then what seemed like forever to set up, started. The music began, and Erwin immediately guided you into a rock step. You find the familiar feeling as quick as you can, letting your nerves float away and focus on the dance.

The pair of you do a few sets of rock steps, making a few turns to introduce the chemistry between you two as you are guided to the rhythm of slow, slow, quick, quick, slow.

After a moment of adjusting to the music and the feel, you feel yourself take a small breath, relaxing as Erwin pushes you into an open fan. It was a small moment, but you allow yourself a moment to shine.

Your arm guides your fingertips to point gracefully in the air above your head, which you accompany by a quick and snappy kick to the sky, showing a moment of sass and independence from your dance partner.

That leads to Erwin pulling you into a tight carousel circle. You end up spinning elegantly on one foot, allowing him to take long, ground-covering steps around you in a tight circle, with all of the attention on you.

At that moment, you find his sharp eyes again, leaning into his embrace enough to give the facade of passionate lovers. Erwin plays into this too, and after finishing the carousel, he leans you back into a small dip.

But in practiced fashion, a double kick from your legs pulls you out of his arms, leaving the two of you separate. Erwin falls into place behind you as you soulfully and gracefully tango-walk away from him, barely glancing over your shoulder to acknowledge him and build tension.

When you turn on your heel in time with the music to face him, you see Erwin reaching out after you, and then you snap back around to face the judges, your back turned to him. You strike a sultry pose while you let him start his small solo, trying to catch your breath.

Behind you, Erwin is perfectly executing his moves, gliding across the floor with a flawless rhythm to the music. His feet landed just in time, nailing the end of his solo before the two of you reunite.

While you hold your pose in anticipation for him to return to you, you take a breath.

You can do this. Here he comes.

Before you know it, Erwin is behind you, his large left hand resting on the point of your waist while his right one wraps around in front of you. His right hand grabs a hold of your left one, his arm crossing in front of your body in a close backward embrace.

And in time with the swell of the music, Erwin whips you around to face him, your head looking to your right, his looking to his left. You were facing the same direction, gliding your feet into the classic and dramatic tango walk.

Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow... Those were the counts in your head as you walked hand-to-shoulder with Erwin.

You could feel the tension building as he guided you in a straight line toward the judges, and then- panic sets in. These steps, these aren't the ones we practiced for this routine. These aren't even the steps for the other routine. These were... freestyle steps.

Suddenly, Erwin's words made so much more sense. This is the only way for us to score well. And so, you put your trust in him. You become hyperaware of how he signaled you with his hands, his body, and his feet.

And from the walk toward the judges, he pushes you into a rapid series of promenades. Your head flashes from left to right as you change direction every two steps maintaining the rhythm of quicks and slows. Your mind was reeling at his decisions, but you did your best to keep up.

Erwin had something planned, you knew it. Yet you follow his every step, and as the music was building to the last high, he pushes you into a set of rock steps in a box in front of the judges, leading up to something.

Then, you feel his grip on you tighten, and not knowing what his plan was, your grip on him tightens as well. You lock eyes with him, the tension high and the dance almost complete.

As the song hits its final chord, Erwin drops you into a deep dip right in front of the judges. The spotlight was dancing over you, and everything seemed to happen so fast.

Your right foot shoots into the air, your heel elegantly held high above his back, your head dangling precariously toward the floor. Erwin is bent over, holding you flat against his chest.

The beams from the spotlight dazzle you for a second before you realize your situation. You're close to him. Wow, he's close. Before you know it, his lips are mere millimeters from your own and your eyes snap to his, wide and pupils dilated.

All you can hear is the crowd. Cheering, clapping, hooting, and hollering. Whistles, bangs, and yells.

Yet that doesn't seem to matter, because Erwin is looking at you. Not like an enemy. Not like a rival. He's looking at you, more like...

Well, you didn't know. You couldn't pinpoint why he was looking at you like that. Like you were a package too delicate to be held by his hands.

He looked so deeply into your eyes, the crowd was drowned out. It was you and him in the spotlight. His eyes flick downwards for a split second, and you realize in an instant what he was thinking.

Just as you start to lean up and into him, he pulls you up and out of the dip. The crowd's cheers intensify, and he gives a blinding smile to them.

Your mind is absolutely reeling from his actions. The way he looked at you, the way he went off of the set routine. What on earth was he thinking?

You snap out of it when he squeezes your hand signaling for you to do the same as him and you get the memo. You smile at the crowd with as much grace as you can muster, before turning and bowing to the judges.

He then leads you off of the dance floor quietly, the next pair of dancers passing you on the way out. You didn't even realize that you were holding your breath, but the second you are behind the curtains, he releases you and continues to walk away.

You feel his hand pull away from your own and a pang of hurt washes over you as he disappears from sight. What was his problem? You did everything he asked. You followed his lead and acted like you liked him. All for your qualifier. And now he's acting like this?

He might have made you the star of the show out there on the dance floor, but at that moment, he was putting your burning flame right out for no reason.

---

You were standing side by side with the tall blonde, several other dance partnerships standing on either side of you, waiting for the results.

You couldn't make eye contact with Erwin, and he couldn't make eye contact with you. Neither of you could spare the other a glance, the tension high this time, but for all of the wrong reasons.

He hadn't said one word to you after stepping off of the floor, and the... well, moment, that happened at the end of your routine.

It felt like frost was coating your veins, slowly chilling you and your emotions. You didn't want to admit it, but it stung. It hurt the way he had gone from looking at you like you hung the moon and stars to completely disregarding your presence.

Suddenly, you felt foolish. Why would you ever think he would look at you like that for real? He's just here because you were the best statistic. He doesn't want you, he hates you. You're his rival. He's here because he wants to compete at the Olympics.

You had to talk yourself through his reasonings, drowning out the voice of the announcer introducing the finalists in your class. Maybe it's okay if I don't qualify this year. I mean, I could always find a partner that I actually have chemistry with.

But there was a part of you that disagreed with that thought. Your mind instantly flicked back through every touch and look from your routine.

The way his hands held you ever so close to his chest, or the look in his eye that screamed, "You're the only one I want." It made you dizzy thinking about it because you knew that he would never actually want you like that.

Your attention slowly comes back as they start up the placings into 10th place. From the edge of your vision, you can see John and the rest of your team nervously waiting for the results.

You only needed to make the top 3 placings to get enough points to qualify, and a part of you was nervous that you wouldn't make it. The other part? Kind of wished you didn't have to deal with Erwin.

"However we place," he mumbles just barely over the voice of the announcer and cheers, "Just know that you did well out there. I thought you were going to lose your cool."

Your (colored) eyes snap up toward him in a disgusted frown, "So now you're going to talk to me? You are absolutely unbelievable, Erwin Smith."

He just blinks calmly at you, stoic as ever. He shifts to face you slightly, and briefly glances around to make sure no one's attention was on you.

"You had no idea what I was going to do out there. You followed just as you were supposed to, just as I planned. You did exactly what we needed to do to get you qualified. If you have an issue with that-"

"And that leaves us to our top 5 placings!" came the announcer's voice. You briefly look away from Erwin before you whisper harshly, "It's not that, okay?"

A look of confusion tugs on his brows, and his lips part in a silent question of, what? You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "I'm not having this conversation right now."

"What's wrong with this conversation?" he asks, leaning in closer to you. From everyone else's perspective, it just looked like he was saying encouraging words. To you, it was torture.

You roll your eyes and start, "This is probably the first conversation we've ever had and all you can think of is yourself. You know, I was actually thinking differently about you, Erwin, but you proved me right after we got off the floor."

A flash of anger runs through his eyes, and his features harden at your words. His lip curls into a half-snarl before he whispers, "You wouldn't be here without me. I'd pick your battles carefully."

"And in second place, lead Erwith Smith and his follow, Y/n L/n, with a fantastic and passionate set for the Survey Corps," the announcer boomed.

You glare up at Erwin and growl, "And you wouldn't be going to the Olympics." At that, you turn away from him and smile into the crowd and at the judges, walking up to receive your medal and awards.

As you strutted away from him, you could feel that the day you dreamed of was poisoned. You were supposed to be happy, cheering, and smiling right now, hand in hand with your partner.

But instead, you felt your heart crawling deeper and deeper into its cage, lying in wait for the true battle with Erwin Smith.

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whataperfectwasteoftime · 3 years ago

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Judo and Other Love Languages

Pairing: Dave York x f!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Martial Arts, fighting/sparring, size kink if you squint, switch!Dave & switch!Reader, two doms who secretly want to be topped, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex, choking

Summary: Dave has the hots for the Judo instructor at his gym and joins a beginner Judo class just to get in her pants ask her out.

A/N: What?? A fic not about Marcus??? Yep, I’m finally branching out. Any lack of knowledge about Judo and martial arts as a whole is mine–I took a few semesters of Judo in college for fun and that’s the extent of my experience. Big thank-you to @ezrasbirdie for looking this over for me!!

Masterlist

With every devastating punch to the bag, Dave York feels the frustration and stress of the day melt away.

He'd come here every night if he could to take out his boundless energy on one of the punching bags hanging in the corner of this tiny, lived-in gym where he's had a membership for years. He is still able to come most days–only skipping when he has the kids, which is depressingly infrequent.

He delivers one last hard blow and steps back panting and drenched with sweat. Dave hates the tedium of gyms as a general rule, but he needs that outlet for the rage that constantly simmers under the surface of his skin.

He likes this gym, however. He likes the sweaty, musty smell and the dingy walls. He likes that the members all come to actually work out (what a concept!) rather than dress up in Lululemon or whatever the fuck it was called just to come sit and stare at themselves in the mirrors. Or even more annoyingly, at each other.

This gym is outdated compared to the shiny, open floorplan of the local chain a few miles from his house, but Dave considers this one well worth the extra few miles of drive time, to not be surrounded by chrome and mirrors and spandex.

He stalks down the hallway towards the locker rooms for a shower, passing a few instruction rooms where those who signed up could take various classes–yoga, boxing, martial arts, and whatever the fuck "spinning" is.

Normally the doors are closed if the rooms are in use, but today is a particularly hot day and many of the instructors have propped open the doors and placed box fans in the entrances to try (in vain) to circulate some air.

He walks past the first open room (So that's what spinning is, Dave thinks), and the second, when he suddenly stops and does a double take, squinting his eyes and peering in the open doorway with a frown.

Dave looks just in time to see a petite woman, maybe all of five feet, flip a six foot, two hundred pound man over her shoulder and onto his back with a satisfying slam of the mat. She stands at the front of the classroom and he can see her cheerfully explaining technique with careful, step-by-step movements of her body. Her execution is perfect on every single repetition of the required movements.

Dave can see she has a black belt tied at her waist.

The lack of airflow in the room gives her face a sheen of sweat that is starting to bead ever so slightly at her temples.

She directs the class to practice in pairs, and she takes the only person still not partnered with anyone–an older woman in her late fifties, by the looks of it–to spar with herself.

Dave watches her laugh at something the woman says, letting the woman throw her a few times, and then switching. Even the way she falls is flawless and graceful, her hand slapping the mat on each landing.

Dave smiles.

You take giant, gulping swigs of water from your water bottle, not stopping until the bottle is empty.

Fuck, it's hot in this gym again today. This heat wave has been plaguing the city for weeks and the AC at the gym where you work is spotty at best.

At least your next class is the fun one. The previous three classes today were all varying ages of kids–from three to thirteen–and somehow each age comes with a different but equally vexing set of challenges for you.

And none of the age groups listen.

But the evening class tonight is your adult beginner Judo class: all ages welcome, any experience or fitness level acceptable. There are younger women looking for self-defense training, older couples looking for a fun workout, various gym rejects that had been branded "bad at sports" before they tried Judo, and everyone in between.

Everyone in this class is there because they want to be there, and everyone is willing to learn and to be taught. And that makes it fun and enjoyable for you.

You greet the early crowd (mostly the older couples) and make small talk with people as they enter. As the hour approaches, a new face appears in the doorway. That's fine, new people come and old people go all the time, creating a solid rotation of students signed up for your class at one time.

You greet the new face cheerfully, introducing yourself and welcoming him to the class.

"Dave," he says, his voice low and gravelly.

“What interested you in this class, Dave?” you ask brightly, a standard question for any newcomer.

Dave smirks. “I wanted to try something new.”

He holds your gaze for just a beat too long, and you instinctively drop your eyes. Something about the man intimidates you, and you feel slightly unsettled as you begin the class. He’s gorgeous, you have to admit. He has such soft features–plush lips and soulful eyes–but they’re molded into a hard, steely expression. You have the sudden, intrusive thought of wanting to feel those lips brushing against your skin, but you shake it off quickly and begin the class.

“Today we’re going to work on a variation on the shoulder throw we learned last week. To make sure everyone is on the same page, let’s take a few minutes to practice what we learned last week, and then we can start talking about variations.”

The class starts pairing up.

“Dave,” you address the newcomer again. “Since you’re new, why don’t you pair up with me and we can work on getting you up to speed with the shoulder throw we’ve been working on,” you suggest with a smile.

He nods and approaches you, and you spend a few minutes demonstrating the technique before offering to flip him first, if he’s comfortable with that.

He is. You execute the throw slowly, talking through each movement as you do it, and as gently as possible, you flip him over your shoulder and onto the mat. Most beginners land with a bit of an inelegant flop, but Dave lands with precision, hitting the mat with his entire body to disperse the force of landing across more surface area as martial arts practitioners are trained to do. You narrow your eyes suspiciously, but let it go.

“Your turn,” you offer.

Before you can blink, you’re on your back staring up at his dark eyes. He executed the throw perfectly on the first go-around. Not only that, he did it with a practiced ease, with a fluidity of motion that only comes from muscle memory. Not a beginner, then. You raise your eyebrows at him in a universal expression of, “What the fuck are you playing at, here?”

Dave smirks again, flames of amusement flickering and dancing in his eyes.

You are not amused.

Your next throw isn't nearly as gentle. You alternate turns a few more times, seemingly trying to outdo each other's speed and force each time. You had started out irritated by Dave's dishonesty at first, but you have to admit, it's fun. Dave is a challenge.

Still, that doesn’t explain what the fuck he is doing in your beginner class.

You lead the rest of the class in several variations of the throw over the course of the hour. You do not pair with Dave again, instead choosing to walk around to observe and correct as needed. You do notice that Dave is still executing each throw as if he’s been doing it all his life, although he’s far gentler with the sixty-year-old man he’s paired with now than he was with you.

When the class is over and everyone starts to slowly filter out, you approach Dave, who smiles devilishly as if he was expecting this and knows exactly what you are going to say.

“What’s your background,” you ask in a monotone, not returning his smile.

“Krav Maga,” Dave answers you in nearly the same tone.

“Belt?”

“Black.”

“What the fuck are you doing in this class?”

Dave smirks. “Bit of fun.”

“Fun? How is doing beginner throws that you’ve apparently done a million times fun for you?” you ask, not understanding. In the same way a piano virtuoso would be bored out of their mind in a beginner lesson, you couldn’t imagine trying to sit through a beginner Judo class and enjoying it. What was the point?

Dave’s smile turns predatory. “You looked like you could use some excitement,” he says lowly, making no effort to hide the way he’s suggestively looking you up and down.

You raise your eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoff.

“You spend all day teaching children and old ladies,” he reasons. “Don’t you miss sparring with someone that can really challenge you?” He lowers his voice to a deep murmur. “Don’t you want to see if you could beat me?”

He’s goading you. You know it.

You take the bait anyway.

“Fine,” you agree flatly, taking care to not give away the little thrill of excitement starting to lick its way up the base of your spine. “Three rounds. Best out of three.”

Dave chuckles low in his throat. “Deal.”

You square off and bring your hands up to a fighting stance. You slowly circle each other, testing the waters, making little moves here and there to test each others’ vulnerabilities, seeing if you can find any weak spots, any chinks in the armor. He blocks several attempts at grabbing the lapels of his gi to try and knock him off balance. You do the same with the leg sweeps he keeps trying. Eventually, Dave slips up, moving just a fraction of an inch in the wrong direction, and you manage to get him off-balance enough to take him down to the mat in a hip throw.

When Dave gets up, he looks pissed. Good.

“Again,” he growls.

This time, Dave is more aggressive, and you have to go on the defensive more often than not, blocking his attempts until one finally lands and you find yourself on your back looking up at him for the second time that evening.

The third round begins, and you refuse to let him get the better of you. You meet him move for move and quickly knock him onto the floor with a leg sweep, taking the fight into the 'grappling' portion of Judo on the mats, where you manage to lock him into a chokehold.

Dave struggles to get out of it, grunting with effort. You’re cutting off the blood flow to his brain–a type of hold that should cause someone to tap out quickly. He doesn’t.

“Tap out, you moron,” you grunt, fighting to keep him still.

Unfortunately, however, the reality of the fact that Dave has a significant size and strength advantage over you kicks in. With the two of you on the floor like this, the physics of mass and weight eventually win out over your skill, and Dave manages to roll into the hold and strongarm you to the ground, pinning you in place with the weight of his body.

He hovers over you, his face inches from your face, his eyes blazing coals, as he murmurs, “Do you submit?” in a way that makes your pussy throb, desire pooling in between your thighs, in spite of yourself.

“Pretty sure ‘Do you yield,’ is the correct terminology,” you argue, rolling your eyes at the blatant innuendo in his word usage.

“Do you submit,” he repeats, quieter this time.

You laugh mockingly. “You sound like a really shitty dom, and let me tell you, you do not have that privilege with me.”

Dave raises one eyebrow. “You want me to,” he challenges.

“Bullshit.” Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Your heart is pounding and your temperature is elevated,” he states matter-of-factly.

“It’s fucking hot in here and I was just sparring, genius,” you counter.

“Your pupils are dilated,” he says, lips curling, like he knows he has you.

You don’t give him the satisfaction. “Pupils dilate with adrenaline, and once again, I was just sparring,” you say through clenched teeth.

Dave leans in impossibly closer, and you suppress a shudder. “I can smell your pussy,” he says softly. “If I reached down and touched it right now, would you be wet?”

“Bullshit you can,” you spit, but your voice wavers slightly.

He smiles. “You didn’t answer the question.” His breath ghosts across your cheek.

You clench your teeth. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you growl.

Dave chuckles low in his throat. “I really fucking would,” he agrees. “I want to see if it tastes as sweet as it smells.”

You can’t help it–you swallow reflexively, giving yourself away. You grimace. He’s smiling like he knows he’s won. He has.

“You’re so curious, aren’t you?” he asks softly, his lips forming a mock-pout. “I can see it in your eyes. You want to know what I’m like, don’t you?”

You can’t find the words to respond. He’s right, of course, you want to see this man’s face buried in your cunt, want to ride his dick and tease him until he’s begging to come. You want to find out if his obnoxious posturing translates to any sense of skill. Something in the back of your mind tells you it does.

“If you want me to show you, then say you submit,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

“Fine,” you spit.

Dave chuckles again. “You can do better than that, sweetheart.”

“I yield,” you say stubbornly. “And that’s the best you’re gonna get out of me, so take it or leave it.”

Dave laughs–the first real laugh out of him that isn’t a mocking or amused chuckle. His eyes crinkle at the edges and his face transforms into something far more boyish and charming.

For the first time, you wonder if his stony, menacing exterior is all there is to him.

You don't have much time to consider this possibility before Dave is leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, and you are consumed by him.

He is on you in an instant. His lips are just as soft as you had imagined, and the softness contrasts deliciously with the hardness with which he's pressing his body down into yours.

Before you know it, Dave is undoing the tie to the pants of your uniform and ripping them down your legs along with your underwear, tossing them aside on the mats.

He finds you dripping, of course he does, and his smug expression seems to say, "Told you."

"Stop smirking and fucking do something about it, then," you order.

Dave grips your inner thighs hard as he spreads them apart, and you worry for a split second about how sweaty you must be after a full day's worth of classes in a stuffy room. You don't have to worry for long, though, because Dave is inhaling your earthy scent with a downright feral look in his eyes before he dives in.

You expect him to be rough and inelegant, but he isn't. Enthusiastic, yes, but surprisingly gentle. He licks you with the same practiced precision that he displayed in class; methodically working you up to an orgasm in record time.

You gasp and thread your hands into his hair and tug, and Dave moans. Brokenly. You aren’t expecting that. So you pull a little harder and Dave growls as he slips two thick fingers into your cunt in response. You cry out into the room and in no time at all you are clenching around his fingers, coming for this man as if it's the only thing you know how to do.

Dave sits back on his heels, looking smug again, and suddenly all you want to do is wipe that stupid expression off his face.

He undoes the tie to his own pants and pushes them down, freeing his cock. You suppose that explains his inflated ego. Can there not be one thing about this man that's even a little unimpressive?

Dave hovers over you again, presumably with the intent of sinking his cock into your wet heat. Or at least that's what he thinks is going to happen. What really happens is that you shove his elbow off the mat, causing him to fall on his shoulder with an oomph, at the same time as you buck your hips and use your leg to flip him over. It's clumsy, but it works: Dave is now on his back.

You scramble on top of him. You can tell he's about to make a move to try and pin you again, but your hand darts out to grip him firmly by the sides of his throat.

"Don't. Even. Think. About it," you growl, and to his credit, he doesn't. He stares up at you, lips pursed but eyes wide with desire. Oh, he likes this. It's your turn to smirk as you lower yourself down onto his cock, whimpering at the delicious stretch of him filling you.

Dave's expression is damn-near reverent as you sink down on him inch by inch with your hand still squeezing his throat. He could easily break out of your grasp if he wanted to, you think, but he makes no attempts to do so. He simply lets you choke him lightly as you start to rock your hips and grind on him, fucking yourself on his cock.

You lose yourself in the moment for a while, in the feeling of how thick Dave is and how deep you can feel him inside you as you ride him. You take your pleasure from him and he appears all too happy to let you have it, let you use him like this, until you reach down and start to touch your clit.

"I don't fucking think so," Dave growls, grabbing your wrist in one large hand and yanking it away from its target.

"You cum when I make you cum," he commands, and surges up, breaking your hold on his neck, taking you up and over and slamming your back onto the mats again.

"That's better," he teases, and he starts pounding into you, thrusting with deep, hard strokes that have you gasping his name breathlessly. Your hands scrabble for purchase on his broad back, and your hips start to meet him thrust for thrust as you feel yourself building back up again.

Dave brings his free hand to your clit and presses, rubbing little circles in time with his thrusts until you're panting for him.

"Come on, princess, cum for me now," he murmurs, and suddenly you are, shaking and trembling as he fucks you through it, not slowing down, making you cry out with the overstimulation.

"Should I pull out?" Dave husks as soon as you regain your senses. He's lost in his own pleasure, eyes glazed and sweat starting to plaster his hair to his temples in the too-warm room.

"Got an IUD," you respond breathlessly. "Go ahead."

Dave growls and repositions your legs over his shoulders, nearly splitting you in half as he leans over you and increases his pace, his cock pressing up against your g-spot again and again until you’re a whimpering mess. You have to admit, he is good. His hips start to stutter and he comes with a groan, letting your legs slip off his shoulders as he slumps forward and rocks his hips one last time. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent again as he mouths his way down to bite at the junction of your shoulder.

You’re suddenly very aware that you are tangled up on the mats of your instruction room, half-clothed, with a man you don’t know. You stiffen. What did you just do?

Dave must feel your muscles tense, because he lifts up to peer down at you, his expression blank once more.

“Will you have dinner with me?” he asks quietly.

You bark out a surprised laugh. You had presumed that Dave was going to stuff his cock back into his pants and leave you there. You still aren’t sure why he was in this class to begin with, but you’re starting to suspect that this was his goal all along. Once he got what he wanted, there wasn’t any point in sticking around, right? Except he’s still looking down at you, those coal-black eyes boring into you, looking almost… pleading?

“Oh my God, you’re serious,” you gape at him.

Dave almost looks hurt, but then he seems to catch himself, and his face transforms into that trademark smirk of his. He purses his lips in a mocking pout. “Please?”

God help you, you love fucking with this man. Your lips curl into a smile of their own.

“Yeah, okay. But only if you agree to one thing."

Dave raises his eyebrows in question.

"You are banned from this class for life."

Everything taglist: @leslie-lyman @beyourobsession @coastielaceispunk @balekanemohafe @lovesbiggethanpride @wildmoonflower @hotchlover @honestly-shite @ezrasbirdie @stilettoforbeginners @bison-writes @green-socks @mandocrasis, @musings-of-a-rose

#Dave York #Dave York x reader #dave york x you #Dave York x f!reader #Dave York fanfic #The Equalizer 2 #Dave York Pit #Pedro Pascal

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

Text

skate a little piece of my heart; jjk

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre; rollerskatinginstructor!jungkook!! sfw!! fluff!! honk honk humour!! jungkook is a very handsome instructor and y/n can’t tell if that’s a bad thing or a good thing

➺ wordcount; 6.3k

➺ summary; your two left feet and complete lack of balance isn’t the only thing that’s making you weak in the knees this valentine’s day.

➺ what to expect; “rollerskating is already hard enough as it is, and now i have to do it in front of him?!”

➺ currently spinning on the record player; how deep is your love; bee gees

»»————-　💫 ————-««

“this is so dumb.”

“safety is never dumb, y/n!” taehyung raps his knuckles against the top of your helmet and you scowl before swatting his hand away, “now, where are your kneepads?”

you let out a groan before tilting your head back slowly, your eyes widening in slight panic at the surprisingly hefty weight of the helmet

your arms flail for a second and you immediately reach up to grip both sides of the helmet before forcing your head back up

jesus

you nearly snapped your own neck there

of course, snapping your own neck would mean not being able to skate because you’d technically be dead… so maybe that’s not such a bad idea after all…

(by the way, it’s concerning how many times you’ve considered literal death just to get out of doing something.)

“are you going to lift your leg for me or do i have to do everything for you?”

you look down to see taehyung down on the ground in front of you holding one of the knee pads and you frown lightly before lifting your leg and placing your sock-clad foot on his knee

“please tell me this is the last of the safety gear…” you whine, “tae, i literally look so dorky right now- no one else is wearing helmets or knee and elbow pads!” you gesture to seokjin and namjoon who are busy putting on their skates over on the other bench before scoffing lightly and crossing your arms

if namjoon (arguably the klutziest one out of this group of people) isn’t even wearing a helmet, then what does that say about you??

you’ve seen him trip over nothing and scrape both his knees so why are you the only one wearing all of this junk?!

“i took you ice-skating over christmas and you fell flat on your ass more times than i could count, and you insisted that you didn’t need any safety equipment even though it was alarmingly clear that you did. i basically spent two hours making sure you didn’t die-” taehyung looks up at you with a raised brow, “do you want to fall and split your skull open in front of everyone?”

“if it means not having to gear up in all this dorkware- then, yes. i would love to have my brains splat across the rink in front of everyone. in fact, that would probably be less embarrassing-” you grumble, flinching slightly as taehyung suddenly yanks hard to tighten up your laces, “i’m an adult, taehyung! grown-ups don’t need to wear all of this!”

“grown-ups don’t throw tantrums either, but here you are…” taehyung mutters under his breath, putting your foot down before giving your knee a slap, “perfect! we’re good to go!”

“yeah, yeah…” you reach under to scratch at your elbow only to feel your nails scrape against the smooth surface of the plastic protection shell and you resist the urge to rip it off out of frustration

taehyung decided that it’d be a great idea to bring everyone to a rollerskating rink for valentine’s day this year instead of… letting people go out to intimate dinners and celebrate on their own… because, quote, ‘i just want all of us to spend more time together, and what better day to do that then on valentine’s day?? …ooh, we should call it pal-entine’s day. ha! get it?? because we’re all pals-’

(he was dumped recently, so everyone’s kind of letting him run the ship for now. …basically, no one can say no to taehyung unless they want to see him burst into tears. he’s still in a very delicate state.)

but, honestly… a rollerskating rink!

out of all the places to go to!

you already have two left feet, so forcing said left feet into shoes with wheels is a horrible idea

“i think it’d be best if i just sat back and watched you guys!” you try for the umpteenth time to get taehyung to let you off the hook, “plus, they sell chilli dogs here and they actually smell really good and i kind of want to order one for myself even though it might end in me having to get my stomach pumped-” you gesture back towards the refreshments counter and taehyung shakes his head before sticking his hand out for you

“there’s plenty of time for you to scarf down a rubbery hotdog later- now, c’mon-”

“i don’t even know how to skate!”

“that’s fine, you’ll learn! it’ll be like riding a bicycle except you are the bicycle-”

“you know, i’m just going to be complaining the whole time, and it’s going to ruin your time here. honestly, tae, why am i here??”

“because i’m not emotionally stable enough to spend valentine’s day alone yet and i need to surround myself with as many people as possible otherwise i’m going to be alone with my thoughts and i’m going to spiral!” taehyung’s voice cracks as he snaps at you and you immediately press your lips together and avert your gaze, trying to ignore the weird glances the two of you are getting from the strangers around you

…

“okay, well-” you push yourself up off the bench before wobbling slightly and reaching over to grab onto taehyung’s arm for stability, “i don’t know about you, but i’m most certainly ready to tear up that rink!”

“perfect!” taehyung chirps, quickly reverting back to his ‘everything is fine and i’m definitely not dying on the inside’ state, “and don’t worry. rollerskating is much easier than ice-skating, so there’s less of a chance of you potentially embarrassing yourself here-” taehyung gives your hand a pat as the two of you shuffle your way towards the entrance gate, “trust me, you’ll get the hang of it as soon as you start!”

“you saw me on ice…” you snort, your knees already wobbling as you take your first step into the rink, “i really don’t think i’m going to be any better on wood-”

“well, lucky for you…” taehyung lets go of you and you immediately cling to the railing in panic, “i went ahead i hired an instructor for you!”

you frown as you pull one hand away and rub your fingers together

god, why are the railings so sticky-

“you- woah, hold on a second-” you look up and over at taehyung with wide eyes when you finally catch on to what he just said, “i’m sorry, you did what?”

“what? i can’t stay by your side and watch you all night.” he shrugs, placing his hands on his hips as he stands in front of you, “we were moving so slowly on the ice that i was sure it was starting to melt underneath our skates-”

“you just told me you don’t want to be alone and now you’re handing me off to someone else instead of spending time with me??” you frown, manoeuvring your stance so that both your hands are gripping onto the railing behind your bum, “why force me to skate if you’re not doing it with me?”

“i mean, i obviously want to spend time with you, but i also don’t want to be skating, like, one mile an hour-” taehyung snorts, “i’m forcing you to skate so that one day, we can skate together without me having to worry about you slipping and sliding all over the place like a baby giraffe!”

“well, why can’t you teach me instead of paying for someone else to do it?”

a brief moment of silence passes as taehyung rolls over to get you to release your iron grip from the bars

“…because teaching you how to skate instead of actually spending time skating sounded really boring-” he mutters quickly, your eyes widening as you turn to look at him

“wha-”

“also-” he cuts you off, placing his hands on your hips from behind as he starts to roll you forwards slowly (though, you haven’t noticed this yet because you’re still focused on the fact that he didn’t want to teach you - you’re a great student!!), “there was a girl who kept smiling at me when i was strapping you up in all your gear, and i need to find out if i still have game or not-”

“this sounds more like you’re trying to fill the empty void inside of you with meaningless sex, which, by the way, isn’t a very healthy coping mechanism-”

“i will fill this empty void inside of me in whichever way i want, thank you very much-” taehyung snorts, shaking his head, “plus, it’s too late to back out because the policy states that they don’t take refunds and he’s already here-”

“wait, what??” you immediately look back to the front, the fact that you are being rolled towards someone now sinking into your brain, “who- oh my god, stop rolling me-!”

taehyung’s fingers dig into your hips as he comes to a sudden halt, “what??”

“spin me around.”

taehyung blinks before slowly turning you around so that you’re facing him and you pray to god that you don’t look like some kind of rotating rotisserie chicken right now

you open your mouth to speak when you finally see taehyung’s face again but he continues to spin you slowly so that you end up in the same position you were in a second ago

...

“for god’s sake, taehyung- spin me around so i’m looking at you, you moron-”

“ohh, okay, i thought you just wanted to spin you around for fun-”

“why would i want you to spin me around for f- okay, that’s not important right now-” you shake your head, “i just want to say that the only reason why i’m doing this is because you kind of sprung this on me last minute and i don’t want to inconvenience anyone, but just know that you now owe me big time- now, spin me back around and wheel me to whoever i’m going to be stuck with for the next couple of hours.”

“noted!” taehyung chirps as he rolls you back so you’re facing the front, “he’s right over there by the other entrance- the guy in the yellow-” your eyes flit around until they land on the guy in the yellow and you immediately feel your heart starting to beat a little harder in your chest at the sight of the guy in the yellow, “his name’s jungkook, he has a shining five-star rating, he’s a wonderful teacher according to all the parents whose kids he’s taught- i’m pretty sure you’re his oldest student so don’t embarrass yourself-”

you feel your mouth go dry when jungkook reaches down to adjust the bottom of his tied button-up shirt before opening the sides of it a little more to show off his chest

he reaches up to twirl a loose tendril of hair around his finger before gently pushing it back and running his hand through his hair, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek briefly

oh no

oh, no

he’s attractive

he’s very, very attractive

“tae.” you keep a polite smile on your face as you slink your right arm behind you to attempt to blindly punch him in the gut, “why didn’t you tell me that the instructor was cute?”

“oh, i’m sorry.” taehyung responds sarcastically, “i didn’t think attractiveness was an important factor when considering an instructor.”

“well, it is when the instructor looks like that-” you feel your cheeks warm when jungkook smiles brightly at the two of you before waving enthusiastically, “rollerskating is already hard enough as it is, and now i have to do it in front of him?!”

“i don’t know what there is to freak out about. the guy’s handsome- so what?” taehyung waves back at jungkook before giving your hips a playful squeeze, “if anything, you should see this as a bonus - you get some eye-candy while you learn!”

“okay, well, don’t make me sound pervy-”

“not to mention, he’s your age! so it’ll be like you’re just hanging out with a friend-”

“a friend?! taehyung, i’m wearing overalls, my hair is in pigtails, and all this protective gear that you shoved me in makes me look like an eight year old-!” you gasp when you feel yourself suddenly bump into something hard and taehyung quickly loops his arm around your waist to keep you from toppling over

it’s a second later that you realize the something hard that you bumped into was jungkook’s obviously broad chest, so obviously this rollerskating lesson is already off to a fantastic start

“woah, you got it?” jungkook holds both his hands out in case you fall over and you let out a nervous chuckle before reaching up to push your helmet up slightly

“i’m fine!” your voice cracks and you clear your throat quickly, “…hello.”

“hi! it’s nice to meet you- y/n, right?” jungkook sticks his hand out for you to shake and you smile nervously before reaching out to take it, “my name’s jungkook! i’m super excited for today. we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

you don’t know if it’s just because he’s clearly one of those fun and overly friendly! instructors or if he’s just naturally bubbly but he’s talking to you like you’re a child

(you probably could’ve ditched the pigtails today.)

“okay, i’m going to go off now so let me just hand y/n over to you-” taehyung arm slips from your waist before he gently rolls you towards jungkook, “you two have fun!”

your hands immediately slap down on the railings right as you feel yourself about you slip and you let out a breath of relief

that was a close call

“we will!” jungkook smiles, waving at taehyung as he skates off, “you enjoy yourself out there!”

you watch helplessly as taehyung skates away, jungkook turning back to look at you with a (very handsome) smile

you feel your heart skip a beat once again and you immediately curse in your head

…you’re screwed.

»»————-　💫 ————-««

“because of the balance and control required, it’ll take a little bit of getting used to- but once you get the hang out it, rollerskating is super fun!” jungkook reaches out so you can take his hand, “do you wanna let go of the bar for me?”

there are a lot of things you’d like to do for jungkook but letting go of the railing and potentially falling in front of him is most definitely not one of them

“you know, i think i’m good!” you chuckle, your knuckles practically going white at how tightly you’re gripping onto the railing, “why don’t you just keep talking while i… you know, get used to the feeling of just standing while wearing skates?”

“okay, if that’s what you’re comfortable with, that’s what we can do. let’s see… ah!” jungkook perks up, clapping his hands together before gesturing down to his own feet, “so, you’re gonna wanna keep your feet shoulder-width apart. can you do that for me?”

you look down at your feet, not at all surprised to see that they’re practically glued to each other

okay

shoulder-width apart

you can do that, right?

you lift your right foot up slowly before quickly moving it farther away from your left foot, your skate skidding slightly against the floor as you stomp down

goD these skates are clunky

you’ll never understand how people find this activity genuinely enjoyable

“see? not so bad, right? now, i’m really going to need you to let go of the bar for me so that we can move onto the next step- i swear i won’t let you fall if you take my hand.”

your eyes flicker down to his outstretched hand and you twist your lips uncertainly, “you promise?”

jungkook places his hand over his heart, “i promise.”

you lift one hand off the rail and quickly take jungkook’s hand, pausing for a second to make sure that everything feels okay before quickly lifting the other hand off the rail

you practically slap your hand down on jungkook’s other palm and let out a breath of relief as soon as he grips it tightly, and you look back in concern when jungkook starts to pull you away from the railing

“there you go! see?” jungkook smiles brightly, giving your hands a squeeze to get you to focus on him instead of the bars, “not so bad, right?”

“yeah, i guess so…” you puff out, feeling your heart starting to pound harder not onLY because the safety of the railings have been taken away from you but also because jungkook’s hands are… very soft.,,. and very warm,.,. and very pretty.,., and all-in-all very nice

“okay, step two. so, this next part is going to make you feel a little silly, but we have to walk like ducks because it just makes the process of walking easier. you kind of have to point your toes outwards- yeah, just like that! and don’t forget to squat a little-” jungkook hums, leaning over a little so he can look to see if your stance is okay, “perfect! we’re just going to keep practicing until you get used to walking...”

“you know, taehyung actually took me ice-skating over the holidays and i fell, like… ten times.” you snort, keeping your eyes on your skates as you take one small step after another, “i thought rollerskating would be easier but i feel like there are more rules to worry about…”

“oh my god, don’t even worry about it-“ jungkook snorts, shaking his head, “i’m an awful ice-skater. you’d think it’d come naturally to me because i can rollerskate- plus, i don’t see the fun in ice-skating! i know it’d never happen but i’m always paranoid that the skates are going to slice-”

“-the ice open and you’re going to fall through and plunge into the icy water?”

“exactly! see, you get it.” jungkook grins, leaning down a little to check your posture again, “you know, you’re a complete natural. i don’t know why you were so nervous to begin with!”

you snort in response and resist the urge to tell him that his face was one of the major things that contributed to your nerves

“ooh, and you know what else i hate about ice-skating?” jungkook gasps, “that if i fall and get my hands on the ground, someone’s going to skate over them and amputate all of my fingers.”

you immediately burst into giggles and he gawks playfully

“are you laughing at a genuine fear of mine, y/n?? i didn’t take you to be someone who could be so cruel…”

“no, i’m not laughing at you!” you smile softly and you can’t help but note how warm and comforting his presence is, “i’m just- i said that exact same thing to taehyung when we were ice-skating and he said i was being ridiculous, so it’s nice to know that someone shares the same opinions on ice-skating as i do.” you instinctively squeeze jungkook’s hands when you feel the wheels roll out from underneath you a little and you end up jerking forward a little

“woah-! you’re okay- i’ve got you…” jungkook rubs his thumbs over your knuckles reassuringly as he waits for you to regain your balance and start walking again, “i told you i wouldn’t let you fall, remember?”

“yeah…” you smile shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up a little

you don’t feel as nervous anymore

no wonder jungkook has a five-star rating as an instructor

he’s great!

“also, you do realise we’ve walked, like, an entire round around the rink, right?”

“what? we have?” you pause, looking up from your skates for the first time in ten minutes

you’re almost at the spot you were at right when you first started

woah

wow!!

you didn’t even realize!!

that’s so cool!!

you walked an entire round without falling (a lot of almost-falling, but you’ll take it)!!!

“i mean, i don’t know about you, but i feel like we can move on to gliding now…” jungkook whistles lowly, “you’re a very fast learner so i’m not worried.”

“gliding is…” you lean over a little when you notice taehyung having a blast at the other side of the rink with his new companion, the two of them skating side by side

she laughs at something he says before playfully swatting at his arm

it’s just good to see him smiling and not crying for once

one of the things that you love most about taehying is that he’s so in tune with his emotions, but when his ex (he forbade you from saying her name) broke up with him, he cried so much that you were pretty sure he had completely dehydrated himself

so it’s nice that he seems to be enjoying himself!

“so, gliding is-” jungkook steps over to get right into your line of vision and you quickly look back at him with an attentive smile, “basically turning your steps into smoooooth strokes. instead of dropping your foot straight down, you’re going to be pushing it forward and out. it’s kind of hard to explain gliding… you kinda just have to let momentum carry you forward and do its thing, you know? it’s literally just a one foot after the other situation.”

“well, if you can glide backwards, i’m sure i can figure out how to do it normally.” you point out, jungkook snorting in response

“trust me, you’ll be able to pick it up quickly. remember that when you’re gliding on one foot to keep your other slightly hovering above ground so it doesn’t interfere-” jungkook stops himself when he notices your brows knitting together (you seem to do this a lot when you’re focusing too hard on something), “ah, you know- i find that it’s easier to glide when you’re not actually focused on the gliding!” he chirps, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, “if it helps, you can keep your eyes on me instead of staring down at your skates.”

hAh

if anything, staring directly at jungkook is going to throw you off your game compared to keeping your eyes glued on the ground

“okay, i will... try not to focus on the gliding while simultaneously focus on the gliding.” your tongue instinctively pokes out slightly in concentration as you push forward with one foot, being sure to keep your other a little above ground just like jungkook said

you quickly switch to the other foot when you feel your right foot slowly starting to lose momentum, pushing off with your left instead and lengthening your stride so you can skate a little further

hey

look at that!

not bad!!

“look at you go, superstar!” jungkook cheers encouragingly, grinning from ear to ear as he watches you gliding flawlessly, “you were born for this!”

“you know, you may have a point- woAh-” your skates roll out a little from under you and you lurch forward, jungkook quickly sliding his grip from your hands to underneath your elbows to keep you from falling, “...yeah, so i spoke too soon.” you huff, blowing a strand of hair away from your face as you glance up at jungkook, still bent over at a ninety degree angle

“it’s my bad, i think i may have blown up your ego with all my compliments-” the sides of his eyes crinkle as he laughs, “all good?”

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and feel a piece of your soul float out from your body when you realise you basically look like a little old woman clutching onto one of those rolling walkers

wow

the possibility of jungkook being interested in you was low to begin with, but now it’s probably been squashed entirely

“uh, yes!” you clear your throat as you force yourself to stand up stick-straight, your knees clacking together for a second before you get back into position, “all good! i’m all good. we’re good.”

oh boy

if it makes you feel any better… it can’t get any worse than this, right?

“i-” you jolt when the music suddenly clicks off and is replaced by the shrill ringing of microphone feedback

“youch.” jungkook winces, raising his shoulder slightly and tilting his head down towards it so he can try to cover up one of his ears

your brows furrow in confusion as you look up towards the speakers, unsure of if there’s just a technical difficulty or if something important is happening, “what’s going o-”

“sorry for the interruption, skaters! we just wanted to cut in and wish every single one of you a happy valentine’s day...”

a large disco ball lowers from the ceiling as the lights begin to dim, the room suddenly engulfed in a warm pink glow as visions of glinting sparkles and hearts reflect from the disco ball onto the wooden floors along with the velvety walls

oh, god

seriously?!

you look up towards the speakers and resist the urge to curse and shake your fist at them like an angry old man

haven’t the people here considered that there might be single people in the rink?!

…on valentine’s day…??

yeah that doesn’t make much sense

“grab your lover and glide along the floor as we play you some romantic tunes on this romantic evening… also, to the owner of a baby blue mercedes-benz convertible- i repeat, a baby blue mercedez-benz convertible... your car is parked in a tow-away zone. that’s all!”

the bee gees’ how deep is your love starts to play and you quickly pull your hands away from jungkook’s, your face flushing in embarrassment at the sudden change in atmosphere

you wobble slightly as soon as you pull away and immediately stick both your arms out in a poor attempt to keep balanced

okay

all you have to do is glide your way towards the exit so that you’re not just awkwardly standing in the middle of the ring while lovey-dovey couples skate around you

it’s only then that you realise that jungkook is facing away from you and seemingly looking for someone

you tap him on the shoulder and he turns to glance at you, “yes?”

“who... who are you looking for?” you frown, leaning over to peer over him so you can see what he’s seeing

“hm? oh, i was just looking for your boyfriend…” he trails off, continuing to look around the rink, “the two of you probably want to skate together right now and you’ll get to show off your brand new gliding skills, which is exciting-”

“boyfri- are you talking about taehyung?” you snort, quirking a brow in amusement, “he’s… oh my god, he’s definitely not my boyfriend. i’m only here for emotional support because he just got out of a relationship- we don’t have to get into it- the point is, he’s not my boyfriend. i don’t, uh, i’m not in a relationship at the moment. i’m… very single.”

why are you still talking?!

you clear your throat as you look for the nearest exit gate

“oh!” jungkook blinks before turning back around to face you, “in that case-“ your eyes widen in surprise when he sticks his hand out for you to take, “shall we?”

you blink down at his outstretched hand cluelessly before suddenly realizing what it is he’s asking

“oh, i-” you snort, immediately shaking your head, “no, you don’t have to do that…”

“what do you mean?” jungkook frowns, tilting his head curiously, “you don’t want to skate with me? after all we’ve been through?? y/n, you’re breaking my heart here!” he jokes, clutching at his chest before pouting (quite cutely) at you

“n-no!” you laugh lightly, shaking your head, “i mean, of course i’d love to skate with- i-it’s very nice of you to offer, and i know you’re obviously being paid and stuff but you don’t… ah, you don’t have to force yourself to skate with me if you don’t want to...” you mutter, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “like, i’m sure taehyung’s already planning to give you an extra big tip for basically babysitting me all night so you don’t have to force yourself to do anything extra-”

“no, i wanna skate with you!” jungkook interrupts, skating over so that he’s standing next to you instead, “plus, it’ll be good practice, right?”

“well, i-” you don’t get a chance to respond before jungkook’s suddenly slipping an arm around your waist and holding onto one of your hands for extra support, “i don’t know, i suppose i’m just not used to gliding without holding both of your hands so i’m just worried i’m going to make both of us fall somehow which would be mortifying-”

“that’s alright, i can hold both your hands if you feel safer that way,” jungkook chuckles, his arm sliding away from your waist so he can swivel around and stand in front of you again, “after all, it’s better to be safe than to be sorry!” he takes your hands gently as he starts to skate backwards, his thumbs rubbing the tops of your knuckles comfortingly

-‘cause we’re living in a world of fools... breaking us down... when they all should let us be... we belong to you and me...

how deep is your love continues to echo all around you and even though you feel a little awkward skating around with your instructor to a very romantic song, you have to admit that this was a great choice of song for valentine’s day

it’s a timeless classic!

“so, you, um…” jungkook clears his throat after a minute or two of comfortable silence, turning back for a second to glance over his shoulder and make sure he’s not about to crash into anyone, “what kind of things do you like doing?”

and it’s me you need to show... how deep is your love?

“rollerskating. is it not obvious?” you joke, looking up at him and reminding yourself that you should make more of an effort to look at him and noT constantly at the ground, “um, i don’t know! that’s kind of a broad question, i guess. i like... i like... i like painting-! i mean, i’m not good at it, but it’s a pretty relaxing hobby...”

“painting is nice!” jungkook nods slowly in agreement before perking up slightly, “say, have you ever been to a pottery studio?”

“you know, i actually haven’t!” you shake your head before staring past jungkook’s shoulder in thought, “i should go to one... it sounds like a lot of fun! do you...” you cough quietly and avert your gaze slightly, “do you go there often with your... uh, significant other?”

“me? oh, i’m not in a relationship.” jungkook chuckles before giving you a shrug, “none of my co-workers wanted to take the valentine’s day shift because they actually have someone to spend valentine’s day with, so... that’s why i’m here!”

“oh! so, you’re…” you trail off before pressing your lips together and giving him a firm nod, “i see.”

so you’re both single?

interesting

very interesting

you can’t help but wonder if he’s looking to change that

“i-”

“incoming!”

you don’t even get a chance to turn around to see what’s going on when suddenly someone’s basHING into you from behind and making you lose your balance

and the next thing you know you’re stumbling forwards and poor jungkook’s reflexes aren’t fast enough because-

“oh-!” you land on top of jungkook with your legs on either side of him, your knee pads clacking loudly against the ground, “oh, shit-”

“sorry! my bad!” taehyung glides past you with a sheepish smile before not-so-subtly gesturing to the girl he’s got on his arm and giving you an obnoxious wink and a thumbs up as a way to let you know he’s definitely getting boned tonight

you want nothing more than to rip your skates off right now so you can chase after him and bash his head in

you turn to look down at jungkook, immediately raising your hands up off his (broad, broad) chest as your entire face flushes bright red, “i am- i am so sorry- are you okay?? is your head okay?? i can- i can give you my helmet!” you wince, reaching up to unbuckle your helmet before hastily taking it off and tossing it aside

“don’t sweat it, i’m completely fine-” jungkook laughs lightly before shaking his head, propping himself up onto his elbows and blowing a curled strand of hair away from his eyes with a puff, “my head’s fine! luckily i didn’t hit it on the ground or anything like that, but my ass-”

“oh, god. i’m so sorry- here, i’ll-” you attempt to get up off the ground only for the wheels on your skates to roll out from under you and for your knee to smack against the ground again, jungkook grunting as you bounce on him a little harder than intended, “oh, jesus christ-”

great

there’s no way you’re going to be able to get up because of these stupid skates and now your very cute instructor is a hostage in between your thighs!

“this is so humiliating, i am... so, so sorry- i’m definitely forcing taehyung to give you a generous tip after all of this is over-” you laugh uncomfortably, your hands about to place themselves on jungkook’s chest again before you quickly move them so that they’re on either side of his head instead

of course, this position isn’t any better because now you’re just staring down at his face directly

little white hearts from the disco ball float over his face and though you know this is hardly the right time, your heart can’t help but go badumpbadump at the reminder of how pretty jungkook is

“okay, wait, what if i-” he suddenly sits straight up and your eyes immediately cross at the close proximity of your faces, “hi.”

you don’t know if it’s even possible but you feel your face get even redder and you find that you’re unable to look away from jungkook

he has very sweet-looking eyes

they’re a very nice shade of brown

“i- uh, hello.” you clear your throat quietly, pressing your hands as close to your own chest as possible so that you’re not touching jungkook, “hi.”

the last thing you want is for him to accuse you of groping him

but maybe it’d be a good thing to get a lifetime ban from the rollerskating rink

then taehyung will never be able to force you to skate again!

“we should take your skates off so that we’re not stuck like this all night.” you twitch when you feel jungkook’s hand slide down the side of your calf before reaching the top of your skates, “do you think you can undo your other one for me?”

“ah- yes. yes, i can do that.” you turn away so you can look back at your skate, reaching down and ripping the velcro strap before hurrying to undo the laces

you feel jungkook fumble at your skate, yanking the tie loose before trying to help you wiggle your foot out of it, “okay, just pull your foot out-”

“yeah, lemme just-” you have to shuffle forwards in order for jungkook to pull the skate off of you and your nose crinkles when you realize you’ve just gone ahead and fully pressed your chest to jungkook’s

wonderful

just wonderful

(for the record, he smells really good... but you’re pretty sure you sound like a creep right now, so maybe you should go ahead and scrap that thought.)

“what happened to not letting me fall?” you joke lightly as you get up off the ground, hoping to ease the tension a little from whatever all of that was, “are you sure you’re okay? i didn’t break anything?”

“i promise you i’m totally fine-” jungkook gets back up onto his feet and bends down to pick up your skates before popping up to look at you with a grin, “and it only happened because i was distracted!” he pauses for a brief moment before tilting his head, his smile softening, “can you blame me? you’re very pretty.”

you weren’t expecting him to say that

“oh, that’s- ha… that’s very nice of you.” you reach up to scratch the back of your neck before letting out a nervous chuckle, “you are… also… quite… visually appealing.”

quite visually appealing

why are you speaking like an alien trying to convince everyone that they aren’t an alien?!

“so, there’s still about half an hour left of your lesson left, but i feel like you’ve had enough of skating for now.” jungkook changes the subject quickly and you can’t help but notice that his ears are starting to get red, “we can just sit on the bench and rest... or do you... uh, do you maybe want to share a chilli dog with me?” he asks quietly, and for the first time since meeting him he’s the one who looks away from you first

“...you know, i think that might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.” you giggle, reaching over to loop your arm through his when he sticks it out for you, “i would love to share a chilli dog with you.”

“not to flex or anything, but i do get the employee discount…” jungkook clicks his tongue, reaching up to pop open his collar obnoxiously before turning to give you a wide grin, “and if that doesn’t impress you, i don’t know what will.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

876 notes · View notes

binniesthighs · 4 years ago

Text

❆on a winter’s day | reader x hyunjin |❆

Pairing: self insert, female reader x hwang hyunjin

Genre: the fluffiest smut

Tags: confident!reader, shy!hyunjin, extrovert!reader, introvert!hyunjin, virgin!hyunjin, dancer!reader, dancer!hyunjin minho and jisung side characters, minsung if you turn your head upside down, slow burn, that sweet sweet build up, first time, meet cute, college au, sexual tension, mentions of food, praising, oral (m&f recieving), marking, fingering (f recieving), protected sex, aftercare, hyunjin is the softest boi in this one

Word count: 4.3k

Requested: By a lovely anon! You can read the original ask/post right before this one!

“and five, six, seven, eight!”

The cool of the hardwood flooring beneath your tired heels squeaked from the movement of twenty dancers throwing their bodies to the left. Each and every one of you were reflected in the mirror in front of you: bodies twisting like the curl of a ribbon and arms outstretched. You winced as your knee hit the ground and you hurled your body into a type of somersault. As soon as you were back on your feet, you bent your spine backwards reaching out as far behind you as you could. For a couple moments, the whole world was turned upside down.

It was then when you saw him. His silver hair was tied up, and his brow glistened with sweat. There was nothing else in his eyes other than pure focus.

It was breathtaking.

one, two, you counted in your head.

Next came the hardest part.

Everyone leapt in sync, creating a resonating thud once you all landed.

Thank God that you landed it that time. To your right, your friend Minho scoffed slightly, likely teasing you for finally jumping at the same time as everyone else.

three, four

The group crashed down to the floor again, this time you had to use all your strength to roll, then pull yourself up without help from your hands. You had been practicing it for weeks.

You could feel Minho’s eyes boring into you while you attempted.

You were able to do it, but it wasn’t nearly as fluid as him. How had you never noticed how amazingly his body flowed?

“and five, six!” Your instructor clapped. The music faded as you all sunk down to the floor again, trying to make it appear as if you were dissipating into it. “Very good job everyone!” She beamed and applauded you all who finally let your heaving breaths be heard. “Excellent improvement from you all!”

You couldn’t even stand up from the floor you were so exhausted. The aggressive florescent lights burned your eyes and you considered taking a nap right there.

“You did it!” A foot kicked you. Looming over you were your two friends Minho and Jisung shoving towels onto each other’s faces. “Were you counting like I told you to do?” Minho expectantly leaned in.

“yes,” You answered a little annoyed, not as much at him, but at yourself. You could have done even better.

“We told you that you could do it. It’s just the mental block man.” Jisung offered you a hand up.

Once you were vertical again, a little wave of dizziness hit you.

“Wanna go out to celebrate?”

Your usual friend group circled around you with their bags in hand.

“Finally got it this time, L/n?” They patted you on the back. Besides hip-hop being your specialty in a contemporary class, you still seemed to get along with everyone easily. On the first day of class when you literally announced that you didn’t want to be there, everyone warmed up to you pretty quickly. You didn’t want to lie and pretend that you were all about throwing your body around like that. Of course you thought contemporary was beautiful, just not your thing. Graduation requirements said otherwise.

“Do you need me to carry you outta here?” Jisung joked at your dazed expression. Truthfully, your head was still spinning a little.

“Only very certain people get to carry me Han Jisung, and unfortunately you are not one of them.” You quipped back, and a few of your friends snarked chuckles at him.

He put his hands up in defeat. “I was just offering.”

Across the room, your eyes found him again. He had put his bag a bit of ways away from everyone else’s. He guzzled down his water, bobbing his sharp Adam’s apple. He then tore his hair tie out and ruffled his hair around which was damp at the roots. Everything that he did was so effortless.

“Hey,” you nudged Minho, “You know who he is?”

“Him? That’s Hwang Hyunjin. I dunno much about him, he’s pretty quiet, I haven’t heard much about him within the school either. Amazing dancer though. Have you seen him?”

“Yeah...”

Hyunjin pulled a black pullover past his head.

“You coming with us?” Minho snapped you back.

“No-uh, I think that I’m gonna stay a little while.”

“Suit yourself, I know that it’s gonna be delicious.” He teased and turned to throw his arm around Jisung while the group walked out.

The silvery-haired boy zipped up his bag as if he was near leaving. Your throat became unexplainably tight. Your legs started moving towards him before you could tell them to.

“You popped up behind him. “Hyunjin, right?”

He whipped around startled, with his gorgeous brown eyes widening. “...yes?”

“I wanted to tell you that I saw you dancing today and you’re really good. It looks like its so easy for you. I wish that I could be like that.”

“Oh...thank you.” He gave you a kind smile.

shit, he was so cute.

“Soooo, what’s your secret?” You attempted to keep him there for just a moment longer.

“My secret?” His eyes became puzzled.

“Yeah, like, to how you’ve gotten so good?”

“I just...practice.”

“Huh...”

The door to the practice room clicked one last time and the two of you were alone.

“I noticed that all of your moves flow really nicely to the next, you’re not stiff at all, it’s like your body never stops evolving with the motions.”

“thank you...” Hyunjin hushed shyly and twiddled with his hair.

“Maybe you could teach me? Teach me how to make my technique better? I’m just so robotic sometimes.”

“...sure.” He hesitantly said with a growing tiny grin. “Like right now?”

“Oh! I mean it doesn’t have to be right now right now, just like when you have some time I was thinking.”

“I have a little time right now.” He began taking off his coat which he had just put on.

“Oh really?” You felt your cheeks get a little warm. You certainly weren’t expecting him to say yes so quickly.

“Do-do you have time?” He worriedly asked.

“--Yeah!”

“Okay...let’s get started then.”

✦✧✦✧

The music from Hyunjin’s phone echoed over the speakers and you attempted the twirls again. You were able to execute the timing, but each one felt more inelastic than the last. God, your whole body was aching to stop, but it couldn’t get enough of the feeling of him watching you and observing your every movement.

“What should I change about it this time?” You struggled to take in breaths.

Hyunjin looked you up and down, with that same focus from before. With someone as picturesque as him, he looked a little stern when he examined you, which scared you a little, but excited you at the same time.

“You need to take the strain out of your hips, they’re geting in the way you need to let you whole body fall into it. Focus on your legs. Like this:”

He spun in front of you with his leg pointed out. With the twist of his body his silver hair swept along with him.

“You know what I mean?” He gently asked.

“--yes, I think so.”

“Your hips are your anchor, but don’t let them stop you.” Hyunjin stepped up closer to you, hesitantly going to grab your waist with his hands. It was then when you realized how big and powerful they were. His sudden gesture made your heart beat even faster than it already was.

“Pivot like...this.” He turned you a little to the left.

“Oh.”

He lead your hips into the pivot a couple more times to show you. His hands were so warm.

He quickly removed his hands, embarrassed, like he had been doing something he should not have been. He walked away from you and you took notice of his shoulder blades curving under the thin fabric of his sleeveless shirt.

“Do you wanna stop now? I think I’ve done as much as I can for today.”

He nodded and removed his phone from the sound system.

✦✧✦✧

Outside of the arts building, snow had picked back up again after flurrying the whole night long. Everything around had been covered in a beautiful blanket of white.

“Well, I’m headed off this way.” You head nodded to your bus station a couple blocks down. “Thank you for helping me by the way.”

“For sure! I...liked helping you out.”

“Really?”

Hyunjin immediately made a startled little face upon realizing what he had said and you laughed a little at him.

He pulled his chunky scarf up higher to his chin. “Actually...I um, live down that way too.”

“Do you take the 12 bus too?”

He nodded. Little snowflakes had begun to get caught in his hair like a little halo.

“Well then let’s get going! We don’t wanna miss the last bus!”

✦✧✦✧

It was rush hour, so naturally the two of you had to stand on the bus of packed people. The air inside was chilly and it smelled of old dusty coats that had just recently been taken out for the fist snow. You thought it was a little funny how every five seconds or so someone would sniffle in there.

“I’ve seen you in class too.” Hyunjin finally said something after a while of you two being pushed pretty close next to eachother. “Dancing and other stuff, everyone really seems to like you, you’re really good at making people laugh.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You didn’t quite know how to respond to him. “I don’t really have a problem putting myself out there much, I’ve always really believed in just being me, you know? And not letting others determine who I am around them. That or maybe I just like the sound of my own voice.”

He giggled a little then pulled the string nearby the window.

stop requested. The robot bus voice said.

“You’re not stalking me or anything are you?” You rose an eyebrow at him, which scared him more that you had expected.

“No..? What do you mean?”

“This is my stop too.”

Your boots crunched into the snow of the side walk and you thanked the bus driver. Hyunjin got off after you with his hands in his pockets. The two of you stood there in the snow for a moment, something weirdly unsaid lingering between the two of you. Something felt unfinished but you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He genuinely was so sweet, you sneakily wanted to be around him for just a little longer.

Hyunjin stammered, but confidently got out, “Do you want to get something to eat? Right now?”

It was if he had read your mind. You were glad that he had asked, and a little surprised too. He waited attentively for you to answer, still looking a little nervous; even looking like that he was terribly adorable.

“I’d love to.” You smiled back at him causing him to sigh in relief.

“Is there anywhere that you like?” He led the both of you on.

You pondered for a moment, then remembered. You cringed out the words, “Actually...I really shouldn’t be spending money right now; I need to get a lot better at saving...”

You almost slapped yourself in the face after saying such a thing and seeing how crestfallen he had become. It was true, but technically he didn’t need to know that.

“Or! I mean, we could go to my place and I could I dunno, whip something up? I should have something...”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to be eating away your food.”

“No really! It’s fine, come on, I’m just down this block.”

✦✧✦✧

It was only seconds before you opened the door to your apartment that you remembered how embarrassingly messy it was. You and your two roommates were the best of friends, but horribly matched when it came to being cleanly. The three of you just chalked it up to you all being “creative minds.” You all went to arts school after all.

“Just...don’t look--sorry, it’s really messy in there, I wasn’t really expecting to bring anyone over.”

“I don’t care.” Hyunjin politely said and watched you unlock the door.

“We just call it creative madness.”

When you walked in even you tried hard to not look at the mess and got straight to work rummaging around your cabinets.

“Does spaghetti with sauce sound good?”

He nodded and neatly arranged his coat, shoes and bag at the door.

He wandered over to the large windows of your living area. “You have a really nice view.”

“Ah thanks,” You clicked on the stove. “Makes the price of the rent worth it,” you lowered your voice “fuckin’ swindlers.”

Your eyes wandered to the island in your kitchen full of all kinds of crap: baking supplies, art supplies, old mail, textbooks, mismatched pairs of gloves.

“It would probably be best if we ate in my room,” You let up. “You can barely sit here.”

Hyunjin nodded and turned to keep watching the snow peacefully. While you cooked, he didn’t say much but you couldn’t keep his eyes off of him, nearly burning yourself on the saucepan. He changed the room by just merely exisiting in it. You truly couldn’t imagine how you had never noticed him before.

✦✧✦✧

“Thank you for cooking for me, that was really good.”

You waved his compliment off with the swipe of your hand. “It’s really nothing, you should see my roommate, she’s a culinary science major. Wait! Let me go get something real quick.”

You smiled at your little surprise and shuffled back to the kitchen, putting the two little raspberry and chocolate cupcakes on plates with equally little forks.

“Ta-da! These are to die for. I wish I could take the credit; these are just one of the benefits of having a roommate that’s constantly experimenting.”

Hyunjin took in a careful bite and his eyes widened into moons.

“I know right!? She’s a genius.”

Silence filled the air between you as you ate more. You couldn’t help but feel so completely and utterly cozy in the moment. The sun had nearly set and you had set your heater up in your room along with some Christmas music to softly play in the background. The only regret that you had was the candle you had lit which was just a little too sweet. You started to wonder after you two had finished, what would happen next? Would he leave? Greedily, a feeling seeped into you like before, you still didn’t want him to leave.

“That was amazing.” He placed his plate down.

“You know what?” Your brash confidence pushing through once more. “Your hair, the silver, it’s just so pretty. I can’t stop looking at it.”

He instantly became flustered. “Oh...thank you, I’ve been thinking about dying it like this for a really long time now and I finally did it. It sounds kinda dumb, but I didn’t wanna do anything that would draw attention to myself.”

“...can I touch it?”

Hyunjin looked a little shocked, but eagerly nodded.

You started by thumbing through some of the longer strands towards his shoulders: it was just as soft as you imagined. You then started from the top running your hand all the way down, admiring the way that it looked like it shimmered a little. You had gotten so caught up in him that you didn’t notice that he had closed his eyes.

“pretty.” You cooed.

“Y/n?” He suddenly asked.

“Hmm?”

“Is it weird to say that I feel like really comfortable around you? Is that weird?”

“No, not at all.” You continued running your hands through the silver strands, somehow you had leaned in a lot closer to him than you had been before.

He looked at you with his doe-like brown eyes. You could have sworn that they were glistening. Your eyes fell a little lower to his lips, they looked wonderfully kissable and plump. From that moment your brain furiously wondered what they tasted like. His eyes fell a little too.

He leaned in first, catching you completely off guard. He kissed you so carefully and gently, his mouth parted just slightly; it was heavenly. You could still taste the chocolate and the raspberry on his lips. He sighed a little into your mouth like he was relaxing himself. In many ways, the way in which he kissed you made you feel like he cared for nothing else in the world, just you. Your cupped his face in your hands, tracing your thumbs against his jawline.

That was it. You were absolutely crazy for him.

You broke for a moment and he turned into a huge, rosy, smiling mess. The two of you giddily giggled at how happy you were over what had just happened. You shuffled your own plate off the bed to silently invite him to lay down which he did obediently. Now he seemed less hesitant, but more excited.

You swung your legs around both sides of him and kissed him more on his smiling lips. At this point, you had convinced yourself that nothing in this world was sweet as him. His hands found their way to your back, where he ran his fingers down, making you shiver delightfully at the touch. His hands finally found your waist which he grabbed onto firmly. He pulled you down into him so your bodies were flush and you could feel all of his warmth. Once you were this close, he started kissing you back more wantonly, gasping a little in between.

“You’re so beautiful Hyunjinnie.” You snuck in between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He let an airy laugh fall into your lips then brought one of his hands to tangle in you hair. All at once, your hands yearned to explore the soft of his skin everywhere. Outside your window the snow still silently fell and the golden sunset faded into the skyline’s horizon.

You knew how excited you had become, where together your hips grinded together. Your head spun thinking about having someone as beautiful as him give your body attention.

Hyunjin broke, holding your eyes seriously. “I-I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?”

“Of course, I would love that.” You melted.

“--But...I think you’ll have to tell me how...I haven’t done this before, sorry..”

The fact that he had shared this with you made him even more adorable.

“Don’t apologize, I can show you everything.” You whispered into his ear with a prideful grin. “But first, can I first help you?”

He gulped, “Yes.”

“I want to show you that you’re worth the attention, you’re worth all of it.”

You helped him pull off his sweater, and then his sleeveless shirt revealing his toned and pale chest, just waiting for your lips. You didn’t want to move too fast however, or risk scaring him.

“Just relax okay?”

You planted kisses everywhere you could: on his collarbones, his stomach and on his ribs, right over his heart. Even from the simplest of touches from you he seemed to unravel.

“You’re breathtaking.” You said onto his skin.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sucking a little harder than you planned, drawing little purple marks against his milky-white skin. He looked like pure art.

“Can I go down a little further?”

“Mmhmm.” He got out, with eyes closed shut trying to control himself.

You slipped his joggers down, revealing his quivering member, which was enticingly long even hidden by his briefs. He had already stained them a little with pre cum.

“oh my god.” you whispered, enamored. You couldn’t wait a single second further.

He timidly watched as you completely striped him, then tore off our own shirt and pants to make it a little more even.

“Tell me stop if you want me to, okay?”

He pleaded with desperate eyes, “Don’t stop.”

First you teased him just a little by running your tongue flat up and down and around his length, wetting your tongue with one hand and slowly pumping. You moved on to then twist around the head which had grown painfully hard. His breaths wavered and he let out little moans in desperation. You took him in at last, bobbing your head steadily.

“ mmm, that feels so good.” Hyunjin moaned out breathlessly.

You kept on, but not for too much longer, you didn’t want him finishing quite yet. He looked a little dejected when you stopped, but you swooped up to kiss him more. You took up his left hand and kissed him all the way up to his wrist and into his palm. His fingertips brushed over your lips, as gentle as one would with a flower petal.

“You want to touch me now?”

“--Yes.”

You unclipped your bra for him and laid back. For this he didn’t need any instruction. He immediately took your breast in his hand, squeezing and and ghosting his fingertips over your nipples; you reveled under his touch. He lowered to suck lightly on the bud, pulling at it lightly with his lips. His teeth grazed you slightly but you didn’t care, you fucking loved it.

“That feels amazing.” You whispered as you watched him. He was sure to give both of your nipples attention.

“I want you.” You said with hot breath. “I want your tongue.”

He looked a little bewildered, but determined after what you had said. He slid down your body, giving you kisses the whole way down like you had done to him.

He nibbled a bit on your thighs. “Tell me how you like it.”

By the second his confidence grew more and more and it was addicting.

You started by rubbing yourself a little so he knew where to start. “In circles, you can go fast or slow, I like both, and you can suck on it too if you’d like.

He lowered, and you swung one of you legs over his shoulder which he palmed into. He started painfully slow, kitten licking carefully; he didn’t know it, but he was teasing the hell out of you. Nevertheless, you whole body began to shake a little with each lick.

“Flatten your tongue out...like that, you can go a little faster, yes...just like that.”

He had closed his eyes and settled into a rhythm, and you dug your heels into the bed. It was astonishing how quickly he got the hang of it. You whimpered out while he continued.

“fuck, Hyunjin--”

He sped up a little, your first orgasm was close by.

“Your fingers, like this.” You held up your pointer and middle together to show him. “Fuck me like that.

He did as he was told, sliding them in with ease over how wet you had become. His fingers were long and slender; addictive. He pumped in and out while your pussy made ungodly sounds. You felt so close you were lightheaded.

“Curl your fingers up, like this.” You showed him again. He continued going fast, taking a hint from your quickened breaths.

You came with white heat, clawing at the comforter on the bed. You only gave yourself a few more moments before pulling him up towards you. “I want you inside me.”

You scrambled with the drawer of your nightstand to rip a condom off from the strand that you kept, tearing it open for him. He was a little flustered, but put it on quickly; he was dripping even more for you. Your lips connected as you laid down, and he aligned himself on top of you. It was then when you saw how pink his chest had flushed. You opened your folds for him, and he started to guide himself in. He filled you up perfectly, and he groaned out once the two of you were connected.

“it’s so tight.” He shivered.

Your fingers latched on to the skin of his hips as you guided him lightly up and down. He buried his face into your shoulder as little euphoric moans slipped past his lips. After a moment, he was able to find his pace, grazing you deep inside. You let him take control as he thrust into you, leaving your arms to wrap around his broad back. You pulled his face over to kiss him, the both of you loosing yourself in the other.

“You make me feel, so, so good, baby,” You hushed into his ear.

He panted, “I-I’m gonna cum soon.”

It took all your strength to flip him off of you, and to land in his lap. He groaned with his hands getting lost journeying all around your body--anywhere he could touch. You took over, riding him and rolling your hips fast with both of your palms flat on his chest riddled with hickies. Like this, you thought that he looked practically angelic. Both of you chased your orgasms together, erupting at nearly the same time, and you ravished in him throbbing inside.

You laughed a little together in sheer bliss and he flinched a little when you slid off of him.

“Did that all feel good for you? Are you okay?” You pecked his nose.

“Yes. It felt like nothing else.”

You stood up, adjusting your frazzled hair and putting on a fresh set of comfy clothes. “Stay right there okay?”

You went to grab him a towel and clean himself off with, handing him his clothes one by one as he dressed. You brought the plates back to the kitchen coming back with a large glass of ice cool water, then offered it to him. He guzzled it letting a little drop fall down his neck.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Do you wanna...stay a little longer?”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

You blew the candle out and dimmed the lights, adjusting a blanket for the two of you to crawl under. Hyunijn followed you under, sweeping you deep into his arms.

Just a little bit longer. You thought to yourself. Stay with me.

701 notes · View notes

luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

By Your Doorstep (Part 6)

Summary: The reader’s relaxing plans for Dean at yoga class are anything but. However the rough evening turns out to be exactly the opposite when it helps Dean get over his fears...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: language, smut, drugging & overdosing

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

________

Reader’s POV

Two Weeks Later

“Yoga is exactly what I need,” you said, throwing your head back. You grabbed Dean’s arm as he chuckled on your way into the studio. “You don’t have work tomorrow right?”

“Nope. We are both off from now until next week. I can’t wait to give you girls a proper thanksgiving again,” he said, opening the door for you.

“Does family come or is it just friends?” you asked.

“Mostly friends. We uh...there’s a lot of crap that’s happened to a lot of us. Some have lost people. Some left bad situations like Sam and I did. My Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen will normally come though. They don’t talk to my parents anymore,” he said.

“Well I am looking forward to meeting anyone you consider family,” you said, showing him to your locker. “So you can put your coat and shoes in here and I will go get you a spare mat.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You whistled as you went over to the front desk and got a rental for Dean, seeing some other people there for class.

“Hey Y/N. Been awhile,” said Kerri as you headed back to the lockers.

“Yeah. Life’s been a bit crazy. I managed to get my boyfriend to come with tonight,” you said. “He could use with some relaxing too.”

“Oh is he cute?” she asked.

“Take a look for yourself,” you laughed as she walked in with you. Dean turned in your direction, gaze going right to Kerri. “Dean this is Kerri. She’s one of the instructors here.”

“You look so familiar,” she said to him. “Have we met?”

“Yes,” he said. He turned back to the locker and you saw him tense and start pulling on his winter boots again. “Y/N I got an emergency call. I need to take this.”

“Do you want me to…” you said, Dean walking out with his jacket under his arms. “Uh, sorry. He’s a doctor. There must be an emergency.”

“Oh no trouble. I definitely remember him now,” she grinned. You raised an eyebrow and she laughed. “It was a one night stand years ago. There was nothing to it. He was very fun to play with.”

“Fun to play with how?” you asked.

“Most guys aren’t into fingers...in places,” she said. You stared at her and she looked around. “Maybe it was just a phase. He was into all sorts of kinky shit.”

“Walk away,” you said as it dawned on you.

“What?”

“I said walk away before I punch you in the face.”

“Don’t be such a prude. He asked for-”

“He asked for you to stop. That’s assault what you did.” You clenched your fists, catching her size you up and down. She was tall but slim and didn’t have the muscle you did.

“Wait in the car,” said Dean, his hands on your arms tugging you backwards. You glared up at him but he pushed you back towards the door. You grumbled and went outside, Dean returning less than a minute later with your coat and yoga mat. He tossed them in the backseat and drove off, pulling into a parking lot after a moment. “Y/N I don’t need you to defend me.”

“I wasn’t defending you. She pissed me off. I’m never going there again,” you said. You crossed your arms and he looked out the window, leaning his head against the glass. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“You didn’t know. I didn’t know. I never knew what she did for work,” he said.

“Can we just go home?” you mumbled. Fifteen minutes later you were in your bedroom, Tessa and Toast over Hailey’s, Sam out catching up with some friends. You tossed your yoga mat in the closet and ran your hands over your face.

“You did promise me yoga,” said Dean. You moved your hands down to catch him picking up the mat. “Show me?”

“I don’t know how to teach.”

“A few moves then,” he said. He held out his hand and you took it, following him out to the bedroom. You laid out the mat in the open space, pausing when Dean took off his shirt and tossed it aside. He stood by the end of the mat with a smile and shrugged. “What’s up first, boss?”

“We’ll do a little light stretching,” you said. You stood at the opposite end, Dean matching you work your arms and legs a bit. “Let’s just do a little three move circuit. Pretty beginner stuff. Let’s do cat cow so get down on your hands and knees. I’ll do it first and then you can try.”

You went down to the floor beside him, arching your back and then bowing it, doing it a few times for Dean to catch on.

“Like this?” he asked as he arched his spine.

“Yeah. It works your lower back,” you said. He did the pose for a minute or so when you got up to your feet. “Okay. We can do a quick warrior. This one stretches your legs and hips.”

You got into position, Dean mostly matching you aside from leaning too far forward.

“Tuck your hips back,” you said.

“Uh, what?” he asked.

“Can I?” you asked. He nodded and you put your hands on his hips, pulling them back a little. “Now put your weight forward...and keep your back straight...and there you go.”

“This feels weird. Like a stretch and strength at the same time,” he said.

“Welcome to yoga,” you said. “Now try with the other leg forward.”

He turned and faced you, letting you help him put his hips in the right spot again. He lowered his arms and rested his hands over top of yours, standing up, moving you with him.

“You uh, have one more pose,” you said, Dean not saying a word when you ran your thumbs over his skin.

“Maybe another time,” he said. You started to move your hands away when he caught your wrists. You laid them back on his hips and gave a cautious squeeze, Dean taking a sharp breath. “If I hadn’t come in, what would happened back there.”

“She’d probably have a black eye right now.”

“You shouldn’t be violent.”

“People shouldn’t hurt you. She would have deserved it. She does deserve it.”

“I told you that you don’t have to defend me.”

“Well I’ll defend you whether you like it or not. You’re my boyfriend. You don’t like it, tough shit.”

“Touch me. Please.” You stared at him and he slide your hands up his chest. “Y/N.”

“Where?” you asked softly.

“Everywhere.”

“Does everywhere include down there?”

“Yes,” he said, leaving your hands on his pecs. “I am so not afraid of you. I never had to be.”

“I’m gonna freshen up quick. If you’re so inclined to take off the rest of your clothes while I’m gone, I’d have no problem with that,” you said. You raked your fingers down his torso gently and he shivered. “Been awhile for me too, Dean.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he said. You kissed him briefly before you ducked into the bathroom. You peeled off you workout clothes and stripped down, washing off your face. You waited a beat and opened the door, the bedroom darker now. Dean’s back was to you and you smirked at his perky cheeks, Dean spinning around with a smile.

“Hey.”

“You’re gorgeous,” he said.

“I know,” you teased, Dean chuckling long enough for you to walk up to him and kiss him. “Tonight’s about you, alright?”

“Why not the both of us?” he murmured, dipping his head low to your neck before he started kissing the skin. You arched it back for him and put your hands on his ribs. He shuddered but it looked pleasant that time, his hands gently landing on your hips.

“Mostly about you then,” you said, gripping his sides.

“I can agree to that,” he said. You broke off and climbed up on the bed, pulling Dean with you into the middle. He sat back and let you take charge of a kiss, his hands lazily wandering up and down your back. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?” you breathed out as you caught your breath.

“I can touch you right?” he asked.

“Yes, Dean,” you said with a smile. “I highly encourage it actually.”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

“Why don’t you lay back and we can take this nice and slow.”

“Alright,” he said. He scooted further down the bed and lay back, gazing up as you straddled him and dipped your head low. “Wait.”

“You okay?” you asked, sitting up as Dean smiled.

“Yeah. I got condoms in the drawer is all,” he said, nodding towards his nightstand.

“And you already know I’m on birth control,” you said. “You good to keep going?”

“Yeah,” he said, your head dipping low once more and kissing under his jaw. “Stealing my moves on me sweetheart.”

“Good,” you mumbled against his skin, kissing him softly, running your hands all over his shoulders, his arms, his chest. You gripped his sides carefully, Dean’s eyes fluttering shut. “You’re all mine, you got it? Gonna take good care of you.”

“Why?” he asked as you gave kitten kisses down his chest. “Would you want me to be yours I mean?”

“Cause you’re my boy,” you said with a smile, cupping his cheek and giving him the gentlest kiss you could. “You’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too,” he said softly. He reached up and pulled you flush with him, kissing you deeply. He roamed a hand down the curve of your spine, dipping in the hollow of your back before traveling up again. “I trust you.”

“Good,” you said, kissing him and reaching over to the nightstand. You dug around and found the box, pulling out a condom. You tore it open and sat back, Dean propping himself up on his elbows. He nodded and you lightly grazed his cock, Dean’s breath hitching. It was mostly hard already and you slipped the condom over the head, rolling it down slowly, Dean throbbing under you. You smiled and leaned back, waiting a beat to wrap your lips around his tip.

You bobbed up and down slowly, only a few inches, focusing on the head when Dean’s hips bucked and he groaned.

“Gotta stop,” he said and you pulled off. “I’m too wound up. I was about to come already.”

“You come as many times you want to,” you said. He grinned and you moved closer to him, hovering over him, kissing him again, Dean exploring more with his hands. Goosebumps broke out over your skin while he touched you, smirking when rolled your hips against nothing.

When his hands rested on your hips you slid back and lined yourself up with his cock, sinking down slowly, Dean squeezing gently when he bottomed out.

“Same,” you said, lifting off and back down, Dean letting out a tiny laugh.

“Ah, that feels so good,” said Dean.

“Like I said, lay back and enjoy.” You rolled your hips and started a steady pace, Dean’s palms landing on your thighs after only a minute.

“Y/N, I’m gonna-”

“Go ahead,” you said. You went a hair faster and before you knew it, Dean’s hands were on his hips and you felt him tensing beneath you, Dean gasping when you clenched around him. You rode him for a few more thrusts, Dean enjoying every last second of his orgasm. You giggled and lowered your head, kissing him quickly. “Feel good?”

“Definitely,” he said. “Come here.”

You cocked your head and he lifted you up, pulling you forward, your hands slamming against the headboard.

“Dean what-” you said as he slid down, holding you over his face as he ate you out. You slammed your hand again when he teased your clit, Dean chuckling under you. “Dean.”

You breathed hard, Dean knowing exactly what he was doing as he swiped his tongue over you. You moaned when you came, Dean holding your legs as they quivered. You panted and slumped back down beside him.

“Fuck. Me,” you said. You sat up and reached over, removing the condom before you got up. Dean giggled in bed as you threw it away in the trash, grabbing onto the doorframe of the bathroom when your legs wobbled.

“I still got it,” he said with a big stretch as you cleaned yourself up.

“I will definitely take more of it,” you said. You walked back up to the bed and reached under the covers, wiping him off with a washcloth as he looked up at you with a goofy smile. “What?”

“You’re cleaning me up,” he said.

“I like taking care of you,” you said. You tossed the washcloth in the laundry basket by the closet, Dean wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” He kissed your temple and smiled, holding you to him. “I had a lot of fun tonight all things considered.”

“Good,” you hummed as you shut your eyes. “Still kinda wanna go kick Kerri’s ass.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” laughed Dean. He played with your hair and you burrowed down into him, starting to drift off when there was a knock at the door. “Yes?”

“Guys I don’t feel good,” said Tessa. You sat up and Dean pulled on some boxers and sweatpants by the time you put on his shirt and a pair of underwear. He opened the door and Tessa was leaning against the wall. Dean put a hand on her head and glanced back at you.

“You feel okay before Hailey dropped you off?” he asked as he checked under her jaw. She shook her head and he walked her into your bathroom where you saw how pale she was. He got out the first aid kit from the cabinet and took out a thermometer, sticking it in her ear. He pouted when he pulled it back, showing you.

“Ninety eight?” you asked, Dean nodding.

“Tessa tell me what else is wrong,” he said. He felt her abdomen but she just shut her eyes. “Tessa.”

“I’m tired and cold and achy and feel like I’m gonna throw up and my skin’s weird, like tingly, and I’m just really like off,” she said. He crossed his arms and she blinked hers open, Dean pinching the bridge of his nose. “What?”

“Your eyes are dilated. Did you take drugs tonight, yes or no?” he asked. She scoffed and he ran a hand over his face. “Tessa. I’m serious. Yes or no.”

“I don’t take drugs. I had a headache so Hailey’s mom gave me an advil,” she said.

“Tessa, I’m not joking around.”

“I’m not laughing,” she shot back.

“Tessa,” you said, her face softening. “What did you take?”

“Her mom gave me an Advil!” she said.

“Call Hailey’s parents and find out exactly what medication she gave her,” said Dean. You left the room and found your phone on the bed stand. You walked back a few minutes later with Dean still checking Tessa over. “Well?”

“Heather I’m gonna put you on speaker,” you said. You tossed the phone down and Dean took a deep breath.

“Heather this is Dr. Dean Winchester. We met a few weeks ago when the girls were in the car accident. Tessa’s just gotten back home and is showing some serious signs of drug side effects. I need to know what and how much you gave her,” said Dean.

“It was just a painkiller. My doctor says it’s just like Advil,” she said. Dean rolled his eyes but bit back a comment.

“Heather I need to know the name of the drug and the amount of milligrams you gave Tessa. It’ll be right on the bottle,” said Dean.

“Fine. Give me a minute.”

“Are you aware that it’s illegal to give prescription drugs to anyone that’s not the intended recipient,” said Dean. There was silence on the other end and Tessa leaned back against the counter, gripping it tightly. “Heather.”

“Yes, yes. It’s Hydrocodone. I gave her three pills since she said it was quite bad,” she said.

“Tessa, throw up right now,” said Dean. He pulled her over to the toilet and she stared at him. “You need to put your fingers to the back of your throat and trigger your gag reflex. Do it right now.”

She paused only a moment before she forced herself to, Dean holding her hair as she wretched.

“Y/N. 911. Tell them she’s overdosing on an opioid,” said Dean. You hung up and dialed, your local fire department showing up within four minutes. You let them in and showed them upstairs, one of them opening up a bag when they got into the bathroom.

“Deano. Not the way I wanted to meet the new girlfriend,” said a guy. He pulled out a syringe and Tessa hurled again. He stabbed the needle into her leg and she yelped, scooting back into Dean.

“That’s gonna help buy us some time,” said Dean. He picked up Tessa and carried her downstairs, Toast pacing around frantically. “She’s gonna be fine, buddy. Y/N, why don’t you ride with your sister and I’ll follow behind in the car, okay?”

“Alright,” you said, an ambulance there by the time you walked outside. She threw up a few more times in the ambulance and they rushed her into the ER, jabbing her with some needles. Dean jogged in with a fire department shirt on, handing you a pair of sweatpants as he stepped inside the room.

“Paramedics say Hydrocodone overdose?” asked some doctor that was tearing open a black package.

“Yeah. Three pills intended for an adult woman about thirty minutes ago,” said Dean. “Didn’t get milligrams.”

“She’s been vomiting,” he said.

“First time tried to flush out what was left in her stomach. She hasn’t stopped since,” said Dean. He grabbed your arm when he saw a black capsule in the doctor’s gloved hand. “Y/N you don’t want to watch this.”

“Dean, it’s-”

“I will stay right here with Tessa.” You nodded and stepped back. “The police will show up soon I’m sure. I’ll come get you when she’s ready to see you.”

“Is she-”

“She’ll be okay,” he said. “I think we caught it real early. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

You pulled on the pants and took a seat on a bench in the waiting room, Dean coming back about ten minutes later to get you.

“Hey,” said Tessa wearily, her lips stained black and some streaks down her chin and neck. “I really liked this shirt too.”

“We’ll get the stains out,” said Dean. “Doc this is the big sister and guardian.”

“Alright big sis. Tessa’s gonna be just fine. Her vitals are already all back up in the normal range. We’re gonna keep her overnight and flush out her system. She’ll be able to go home in the morning.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“Thank him. He made my job easy,” said the doctor. “A nurse will bring some paperwork over in a minute to get her admitted.”

“Thank you,” you said. He left along with most everyone else in the room besides a nurse, Dean finding your hand and giving it a squeeze. “And thank you. Really.”

“I like the little dork,” he said, ruffling Tessa’s hair. She gave a half smile and closed her eyes. “Tessa I’m sorry if it sounded like I was accusing you of taking drugs. You were very ill for a second there and I was scared.”

“Why?” she asked. “Don’t you deal with stuff like this all the time?”

“In med school I did. But you’re like my little sister. It’s different,” he said.

“I like having a family again,” she said quietly. She nuzzled his hand for a moment and you smiled. “I should get all the credit for getting you two together you know.”

“You’re delusional,” you joked. “Hey you want ice cream in a little while? I can run out and get you some.”

“Yeah. My throat hurts,” she said.

“How about I run home and get you some clean clothes and ice cream and you’ll be all set for it by the time I get back?” said Dean. She nodded and you promised you’d be right back as you walked out with Dean. You took a deep breath out in the hall and he pulled you into a big hug. “She’s okay.”

“I know. You really care about her,” you said.

“If I’m overstepping-”

“No. Not at all. She likes having a big brother. Two of them. Trust me. She tells me things.”

“She reminds me of Sam sometimes,” he said.

“I will happily take someone else watching her back. As long as I get to watch yours every once in a while too,” you said.

“Mmm I will take you up on that tomorrow. You still owe me a post-sex cuddle,” he said.

“Sadly I think we’ll have to do it again if you want the right mood for it,” you smirked.

“Such a shame,” he said, kissing your temple. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart.”

“Hey,” you said when you saw Dean in the hallway an hour or so later, Tessa watching TV in her room. You were speaking to a detective and after Dean brought Tessa her ice cream, he stepped into the hall with you. “Detective Hawkins this is my boyfriend, Dean.”

“Y/N’s told me about your involvement tonight. I’d like to get your statement,” he said, flipping to a new page in his notebook. “Just take me through your evening sir.”

“Um…” said Dean as he glanced at you.

“Sir this isn’t a group statement,” he said. Dean sighed and started to recant you two having dinner and then what happened with yoga. He didn’t give any details about your bedroom antics until Tessa showed up.

“Then I left to go home and get a change of clothes for the girls and some ice cream for Tessa. I just got back,” said Dean. He nodded and bit his lip for a moment.

“Would you like to press charges against this Kerri person?” he asked.

“No,” said Dean quietly. “I have no proof anyways. I’d rather forget about it.”

“Alright. There are counseling-”

“I understand,” said Dean. “I’m more concerned about the fact a prescription opioid was given to a teenager so nonchalantly. A teenager with a history of seizures.”

“I’ll give it to you straight,” he said, tucking his notepad away. “There’s a reason you’re speaking to a detective about this and not a regular cop. This is not the first incident involving the Locke family and the severity of this one has raised it up the chain. There’s a class action involving two other families pending. I would suggest you get involved with them if you intend on suing.”

“Yeah but courts don’t tend to…” said Dean before the detective gave him a look. “Oh. Oh. The parents are…”

“Mother is also a doctor. You get the picture,” he said, giving Dean his business card. “I’ll be in touch with you two and Tessa.”

“Thank you,” said Dean. He nodded and the detective left as you cocked your head. “Tessa’s mom is pushing pills.”

“What?”

“She’s got access. She gives a younger person free dosage, makes ‘em feel good, gets ‘em hooked and then she collects. You mentioned Hailey has older siblings. I guarantee those are who that cop is talking about.”

“Hailey is her best friend. I’m supposed to tell her she can’t see her anymore?”

“Her best friend’s mom tried to give her a drug addiction. She nearly killed her. Hailey didn’t do that though.”

“Guys,” called Tessa from her room. You both ducked around the corner, Tessa sat up in bed and toying with her pint of ice cream. “I think Hailey knows. She’s been acting weird lately and like, talking to the stoner kids a lot at school.”

“Well that might-” you said before Hailey held up her phone.

“She texted me and told me not to say anything to get her mom in trouble,” she said.

“I’m gonna go get the detective before he leaves,” said Dean. He jogged out of the room and you took a seat on the side of the mattress. Tessa put her phone back in her lap and poked her ice cream again.

“Tessa it could be coincidence.”

“But it’s not. She’s so sketchy lately and she doesn’t even care I’m in the hospital. She didn’t care about Toast getting hurt. It’s her fucking fault my dog lost his leg. She didn’t even care. She’s been this way since the summer and fuck her.”

“Do you want to sue? It’s your call,” you said. She nodded and you gave her a hug. “Okay. We’ll get all this sorted out as soon as we can.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 7 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #dean #winchester #dean spn #doctor!dean x reader

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mendesbadrepuation · 4 years ago

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Bachata // Sebastian Stan

Once again TikTok has inspired me and inspired this little one shot/imagine/pov. Whatever you prefer to call it. I decided to post this one because I simply knew it would sit around in my drafts collecting vast amounts of mold and dust. I had lots and lots of fun with writing this. I did a little research on this dance and even found a song. Hope everyone enjoys :)

Bachata is a form of dancing. Very sexy and very intimate at times.

Background: Y/n is a famous actress learning a new dance for a scene in her movie. Her co-star Sebastian Stan is her partner learning just as much as she is. They might even learn something else along the way. Feelings perhaps?

tw- not any that I can think of. loads of fluff and vast amounts of fun!

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“Alright you two! Get warmed up and comfortable.” Our dance instructor informs us as the music begins blasting through the studio. I make sure my heels are strapped in and I look up at Sebastian. Today he had on black basketball shorts with a graphic white tee. There was this obvious scruff across his chin and jawline. It really brought out all his features.

He was walking towards me in a funny way. His arms and legs were throwing out into this strange dance move. When your characters are professional dancers and your person playing them are not. This is what happens. I start to lightly laugh and walk towards him to the beat of the music. Our instructor has us do this everyday before we rehearse our big dance scene. It helps us get comfortable with one another and shake whatever maybe in our minds from that day away. It was a good coaching technique if you ask me.

We join our hands together at the drop of the beat. We don’t follow our steps and just dance how we like. It was fun and that’s what made this entire experience a little better. I focus on making light steps with my heels so it looks more elegant as the instructor would say. She’s also the entire choreographer for this movie so she knew a thing or two. Part of me was also focusing on not falling on my face every step I took. I was never use to wearing heels in general. Now I was being pushed to dance in them. This instructor has pushed me in ways I never knew before.

“This a new top?” Sebastian asks as he pulls me into his chest. They press together and I sway my hips to the beat. One of his hands goes to my waist guiding them towards his thigh.

“Yeah. You like it?” I look up into his eyes as our faces were inches apart. He grins at me when our eyes lock. All I had on was a simple cropped spaghetti strap tank. It was this mint green kind of color. A new color for me.

“Cute.” He replies making my face red. Sebastian made it his goal to make me blush everyday. I don’t know how it became this game for him but it did. Sometimes he didn’t even have to try. He’d simply look at me a certain way and my face was red as a tomato.

However, being in these close situations it helped for him to lighten the mood. He done that very often. Especially when I would get frustrated with a certain move I had trouble getting down. We really bonded through this film and all that has came with it. I was excited to learn this new dance and tell all my friends I can. Of course they would get to see it on screen when the film comes out.

“Okay! Get into your first positions and let’s start at the beginning and work our way into where we left off yesterday.” The instructor commands us. We step away from each other and go to our designated positions. We stand on each side of the studio across from each other. I lean my back against the mirror in the way the instructor told me to. Sebastian had one leg propped against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Our characters were designated to be in the beautiful city of Italy. Seb and I were excited to film there when the time came. Which was coming soon. Our special dance scene was coming together and before we knew it we’d be ready to fully put it together. We had two more parts to get down. The finale was suppose to make people cry apparently. That is if we do our jobs right. Which I had faith in Sebastian and I. We’ve worked so hard for this film.

The song begins to play. *Promise Romeo Santos (ft. Usher)*

I push off the wall and seductively walk towards Sebastian. Our eye contact was locked in with each other. I walk a circle around him as he stands in place. My finger drags across his back very slowly. His neck was turned toward his shoulder so he could try to catch a glimpse of me. When I reach around his front our eyes lock again. My body gets closer until he places his hands on my hips pulling me right into his body. I rest my hands on his shoulders for a moment letting him guide my hips to the music.

Our faces were inches apart as we stared into each other’s souls. It felt as if our hearts were dancing together when we did dance. That’s how romantic and sexy this dance really was. I glide my hands up to his neck to cup it gently. It makes our connection stronger in the moment. He starts to take his steps backing me up. I flow backwards with him helping me guide the way. If we didn’t trust each other then this dance would not work.

My right arm extends out as Sebastian used one arm to lift me up. My legs remained straight and I held my grip firmly on his shoulders to keep my form. His head was angled right into my lower chest. He keeps his focus on me as I turn my head to the side closing my eyes. I felt the breeze from him spinning me around. I tuck my knees in and bring my hand back down to his shoulders. He lifts me up and over his leg where I rest behind his thigh for a second.

He pulls me back over and I place my feet back down to the ground. His hands let go of my waist as I step away from him. Sebastian does his individual steps as I walk around him making sure all the attention was towards him. When he bows I began my individual steps. My last step brought me back into his arms. His large hands made their way to my hips once more. He brings me towards him as I straddled his thigh. With the beat of the music I grind my hips into his thigh. We never lost eye contact in this moment. My heart was racing at the intimacy this part held.

“One two three.” Sebastian whispers the count directly next to my ear giving me the cue to step back just enough for him to grab my hand as I extend myself out. He lets me spin out only to bring me back in. Once more I straddled his thigh and grind into his thigh. This time my hips come up a little higher and Sebastian meets me. Our bodies collide perfectly together. It was as if we were made for each other.

Without any hesitation Sebastian spins me around by my hips so now my back is pressed against his chest. His right hand trails up my side towards my stomach and directly through the valley of breasts. My heart flutters when I felt his hand around my neck pushing me into him more. On beat we practically snap our necks to look each other in the eyes again. His hand around my neck now goes up to my face where he softly rubs his thumb across my cheek bone. My hips sway against him slowly as the music begins to fade from the instructor controlling it.

“That was awesome you two! Absolutely beautiful! Let’s finish this last part and you guys will be ready to put it all together for the final scene.” She announces as she goes over in front of us. She explains the new steps thoroughly making sure we understood first. Then she takes each of us and guides us how to do what and where to look.

The final part added a sexy flair with so much passionate romance. It felt like I was watching a movie myself when she used Sebastian to show me my steps. Sebastian listened as intently as he could. I catch him staring at me at one point and all I could do was smile at him. We were sweaty and tired from the hours of practice. I could see it on both of our faces. We never had the thought of giving up though.

Once we learned the steps it was time for rehearsing it. The finale of this scene really tied the entire dance together. At the very end Sebastian and I were set to have our big kiss. The choreographer did not want us to kiss yet so the passion will let itself develop in the final dance. You could guess I was pretty excited about kissing my scene partner.

_______

The magic was in the air here in Italy. It was time for our big dance scene to come alive tonight. The directors and producers chose a nice little alley way between these bright pink buildings. Around us was all the Italy architecture you could imagine. This city truly was gorgeous in every aspect.

“Are you ready?” My stylist asks me as she is finishing up the touches on my hair and makeup. The costume director chose for me to be in a silk black two piece dress. The top piece had an A-line design with spaghetti straps. The skirt part was completely silk with two slits on either side. That way it would show off my legs for the dance. Just to add a little spice he chose red satin heels with an ankle strap. The heels I had been practicing in to be exact.

“Nervous. But ready.” I reply to her. I look at her through the mirror and see a soft smile on both of our faces.

“You’ve got this. No reason for you to be nervous.” She encourages. “Besides. This is your big moment to kiss Sebastian.” She smirks at me making my cheeks red.

“Y/n It’s time!” The director calls from the other side of the tent. My stylist fluffs my hair one more time and sends me on my way. I walk outside of the changing tent and step into the bright sunny day of Italy. The crew all looked towards me which made me blush wildly. Big smiles land on their faces and it boosts my confidence.

“Go ahead and get in your place Y/n. Sebastian is on his way!” The choreographer commands me and I nod my head making my way over to the marker. I lean against the wall and focus on my breathing. This is what we had been working for.

To keep the suspense Sebastian and I were positioned to look in opposite directions. I had no idea what he was wearing and he had no idea what I would be wearing. The thought of how handsome he could look was circling in my brain. My stomach was beginning to be filled with nervousness as we wait for the action to be called. I focus on an object off in the distance.

“Ready. ACTION!” The director calls. The music begins to play and I take in a deep breath.

My head slowly turns towards Sebastian standing opposite of me. Our eyes meet at the same time and I watch him take in a breath. He was beyond the words of handsome. They chose to put him in a white linen button down with the buttons open midway to his chest. The shirt hugged his shoulders perfectly making him look so muscular. And he was. He had on these nice gray pants that were loose enough for dancing but looked as if they fit like dress pants. My God is hair was styled perfectly back. Just enough gel to give it a little raise and the rest was just this fluffy bounce. My heart rose to my throat and it took me a moment to snap back.

Luckily I had practiced the routine so much that my feet took control at the start of the music. I elegantly walk to Sebastian as he walks to me. We didn’t remove our eyes from each other just like before. My heart was pounding when I was just close enough to see the shining blue in his eyes. The moment his hands come in contact with my hips a spark was sent through my body. His fingertips just barely graze my exposed skin on my waist. It makes my head spin from the minimal touch.

We continue through the routine just like we practiced. The passion and romance was every bit there. I felt it in my chest the way he would guide me, touch me, and hold me. When he spins me around and pressed my back up against his chest I felt my knees becoming weak. Just the fragile way he pressed his fingertips into my skin to pull me closer to him was enough to make me fall apart. I was trying to remain professional but it was hard with those blue orbs seeping into me.

Just as we approach the final part I felt butterflies erupting like a volcano in my stomach. Sebastian pulls me in as close as he can. One hand holds my waist while the other held my back. I felt him start to lean me down for the special dip. The music comes to a slow as he brings me back upright. My hand cups his cheek and our breathing was heavy. Our chests rise and fall hard against one another.

Our faces inch closer and closer. Instinctively our eyes shut just as our lips collide for the first time. My heart pounds hard against my chest that I could hear it in my ears. Sebastian deepens the kiss making me so light headed. I felt as if I was floating. He grazes his tongue across my bottom lip allowing him further access. His tongue was gentle and not too forceful. I’ve had many stage kisses but never has one made me feel this way before.

We pull back for air and stare into each other’s eyes. The director calls cut but Sebastian doesn’t loosen his grip or move an inch. I stay put still looking into his eyes.

“That was awesome you two! I’m so proud!” The choreographer announces and I take a step back letting my grip fall. My hands rest at my sides as I couldn’t contain the blush from appearing on my face.

Sebastian had this grin on his face as he continues to look at me. His eyes look from my head to my toe once more. “You are absolutely gorgeous.” He compliments. If it was possible my face got 10x more red.

“Thank you Sebastian.” I barely muster up the words to reply. “You look very handsome.” This time he looks to his right and a subtle blush appears on his face.

“Thank you.” He scratches the back of his head to ease his nerves. There was an obvious connection between the two of us. However, something was holding us back from just admitting it. We wanted each other but we wanted to remain professionals.

After filming was over with for the movie I was sad to leave. Who wouldn’t be? I have grown such a connection with all of these people. Shortly after filming Sebastian reached out to me. It was just a simple text message. Should it have gave me the amount of butterflies it did?

Would I ever be able to dance with you like that again?

I couldn’t help but smile down at my phone. “What are you smiling at over there?” My best friend asks me. I shake my head trying to contain myself.

“Nothing to worry about.” I reply shortly and think of a message back.

If you’re lucky ;)

I tried to be flirty but also not give away the fact that I was crushing hard on a fellow co-star. Somehow I just knew Sebastian was going to become a big part of my life. He reads the message and I see the bubble pop up. Just as fast as it pops up it disappears. I let a soft sigh out.

“Hey look Y/n! Isn’t that Sebastian?” Another one of my friends ask. We were all having a nice time catching up at my place. I had been gone for months so they didn’t have to do much begging when it came to hanging out.

The tv was playing the in background. I scramble around finding the remote turning the volume up. There he was on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Falon. My heart starts to rapidly beat in my chest at the looks of him. A black suit jacket with a floral button down underneath. His hair styled back with some gel. Once again he was just as handsome as the day I first met him.

“So Sebastian! You’ve got a new movie coming out with none other Y/n y/l/n. You know she’s one of my favorites on this show. How was it working with her?” My breath caught in my throat as my friends slightly squeal with the mention of my name.

“Oh wow. It was the best. She’s an absolute sweetheart! I can’t count the times she made my heart skip a beat.” He playfully clutches his chest. I thought I was going to faint. The crowd on the show erupts into cheers from the comment.

“Woah woah woah! Seems to me like there is some chemistry behind the scenes.” Jimmy replies egging him on. He looks down into his lap with a soft smile.

“There was definitely some moments throughout filming that had...” he pauses to think about his words. “Sparks flying I guess you could say.” Jimmy leans back in his chair in shock as the crowd gets louder.

“The producer so graciously let me have this little clip of a special scene that you all shared. Let’s watch shall we?” He gestures to another screen and the clip begins rolling. It was a small trailer that I actually hadn’t seen yet. Flashes of my face throughout filming appear. Scenes that we developed.

I see the clip of the beginning of the dance scene. The very moment we looked at each other it only showed Sebastian’s reaction. It zooms on his face and in his eyes I swear I saw a twinkle. Nice editing if you ask me. My heart jumps to my throat as the clip fades out. Sebastian is leaning back in his chair with an obvious blush on his cheeks.

“Let’s talk about that look man.” Jimmy says. Sebastian starts shaking his head. He had a big smile on his face. It’s like he was lost in his thoughts.

“That reaction was completely real. Our choreographer had us look away until the director called action. So for lack of better words. She took my breath away.” Jimmy covers his mouth in shock and the crowd was even more crazy. My jaw drops to the floor at his words.

“Wow. Seems like you two are starting a new romance Sebastian!” Jimmy says and I’m about to pass out from this entire interview.

“Yeah. If I’m lucky.” He smoothly winks at Jimmy. I knew what that meant. I just sent those words to him. My entire body was on an adrenaline rush.

“What does that mean!?” My friend asks in a high pitch. She was trying to contain her excitement but it was no use.

I look over at her with the biggest smirk on my face. My friends jump up from their seats circling around me in pure excitement. Thousands of questions were being shout out in my direction.

“Guys!” I laugh trying to get them to calm down. “When I say I’ve never had a stage kiss like his before. I mean it.” They shout in even more excitement.

“Well you’ve heard it hear live. Go check out this romantic new movie when it hits a theatre near you!” Jimmy closes the interview. Sebastian stands up waving to the crowd. The show goes to commercial and I’m still standing there speechless at his words. Was this really happening?

I bring my phone up. Without any hesitation I click on his messages again. Out of nerves I bite the inside of my cheek contemplating my next move.

“Whatever you’re about to say to him. Say it!” My friend encourages. I glance up at them and back to my phone.

Will you take my breath away if we dance again?

My cheesy reply still makes my heart pound in my chest. I wait a little over a minute and my phone buzzes against my hand.

If you’ll give me the chance I will hopefully do more than that.

I bite my lip to try and suppress the emotions circulating through my body.

Time and place?

My fingers come up to my lips as I nervously bite at one of my nails.

7 tomorrow night at my place. I’ll pick you up.

My eyes grow wide in surprise. This was really happening. I was planning a date with Sebastian Stan.

I’ll bring an inhaler just in case :)

I couldn’t ignore the wave of nausea building up in my stomach.

Good idea. I’ll bring a crash cart. Just in case your gorgeous self sends me into cardiac arrest.

My eyes roll at the flirtatious comeback. I leave the message open and explain to my friends we had to find an outfit quickly.

I was going on a date with Sebastian Stan.

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like, comment, or reblog for a part two? Thank you for reading guys!!!! :))

#sebastian stan #Sebastian #bucky #fluff #imagine #oneshot #bucky barnes #marvel #y/n x Sebastian #dance #bucky fanfic

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kookingtae · 4 years ago

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the equation of love (pt. 10)

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt. 10

professor yoongi x uni student reader

→scenario: When you met Yoongi in a club, you thought it was fate that brought the two of you together. But after you walked into your college math class for the very first time, you weren’t so sure anymore.

→genre: smut | fluff | angst

→word count: 10.5k

→a/n: alternatively: fuck it, it’s been five years and this wip has been staring at me for three of them, so im just gonna post it. i have not read this over since 2018, so pls dont judge me too harshly hhsdg it’s unedited and probably a bit cringy, but then again what ch of teol isnt? this is NOT all that i have planned for the series, but i figured something is better than nothing, right? and perhaps the saying better later than never applies here, too. maybe one day i’ll finally get around to finishing it (by then im sure no one will even be around to remember what teol is lmao) but until then, enjoy what ive been sitting on! and as always, if you’re still here, thank you for your endless patience and support with this series <3

→another a/n: after this will probably be an epilogue!

→tw: mentions of blackmail, r*pe and sexual assault (we mostly just get closure on the whole professor lee & jun situation!!)

→warning: this chapter is not a happy ending, but it’s not necessarily a BAD one either, so for those who don’t like to finish on an unhappy note, it’s up to you on whether you’d like to read it or wait for the epilogue to be posted!

Running water.

It was such a simple yet fascinating concept—atoms and molecules coming together to form the only substance on earth that has a natural state in all forms, while having the power to kill in three different ways. Solid, by hypothermia; liquid, by drowning; gas, by suffocation. This substance can take three different forms, yet it's most commonly a liquid, covering nearly 71% of the world with translucent bodies of water. Oceans, ponds, lakes—though the most enchanting of them all were rivers. They were always moving, crashing beyond rocks and bustling with the flow of the current and gravitational pull of the earth. Rivers were passionate, and strong, and no matter how hard one tried they couldn't break the whipping tide that was pushing against them. Nothing could cause the powerful force to falter.

But, like most things, even rivers must come to an end. The current stops flowing, and the waves stop breaking around the jagged rocks, and the powerful force that seemed it would never end dulls to a still, calm lull, as if the river was nothing more than a brief yet raging storm. All the passion, all the fight—over in a blink of an eye, left to dissipate into the mysteries of the vast ocean.

Staring down at the picture on the cell phone screen in front of me was like getting pulled by the current of a river; down, down, down I flowed until there was no river left around me and I was left stranded in the middle of the sea. Yoongi and I were once raging, and passionate, and ready to fight against anyone who tried to tear us down, but now the fight was over. We had been dragged too far, fading into a body of water that was not our own. This was bigger than us.

Yes, like the flow of a river, all things must come to an end.

"That's it," Yoongi gritted his teeth, and I felt the dip of the mattress beneath me as he rose to his feet in anger.

"Yoongi," I called his name in a warning tone, warily standing up from the bed and watching him move around the room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm over it," he said, hastily throwing the first articles of clothing he could grab from his drawers over his body. "I'm done dealing with all of this, Y/N! I'm going up to the school."

Despite the flare of determination that sparked in my heart at his words, his rage seeming to radiate off of him and onto me as well, I couldn't help the trepidation that I was also filled with; Yoongi didn't have a history of making rational decisions out of anger.

"Don't you think you should calm down first?" I offered, trying my best to match his pace around the room.

"No!" Yoongi suddenly skidded to a halt in front of me, his eyes wild and crazed. "I'm going to find her and I'm going to fucking kill her!"

I could only stand with a gaping mouth and watch as he stormed out of the room, leaving me with no choice but to pull on my old clothes and chase his stomping foot steps. He grabbed his keys before storming out of the apartment, down the stairs, and outside into the parking lot. I tried to ignore the blindingly bright sunlight as I squinted my eyes and continued after him.

"Follow me up to the school," Yoongi barked as he hopped into his car.

"Yoongi–" I started, but my consoling voice was cut off by the slam of his door. I frowned, scrambling to unlock my vehicle as his engine roared to life.

The drive to the university was a nerve-wracking one. I kept a watchful eye on Yoongi to make sure he wasn't speeding or swerving all over the road; they say you're not supposed to operate a vehicle while you're upset. Though it would seem my efforts were futile, because he did in fact speed and swerve, and all I could do was frown and try to keep up.

It wasn't that I wasn't angered by Professor Lee; I was furious, rage and disgust and frustration all stewing inside of me like a pot of water that was ready to boil over. But I just couldn't help but worry for Yoongi. I had always been the non-confrontational type, always hoping that with a little time things would get better if they were ignored long enough. But it would seem that my method was proven inefficient today, because as much as I had tried to ignore her antics, that wicked woman wouldn't stop at anything to make sure Yoongi and I were properly dragged through the mud and going down like a ship engulfed in flames. Yet as much as that angered me, I couldn't bare the thought of the turmoil it was causing Yoongi. I didn't know when I had started casting my own feelings aside and putting his above—it was a gradual thing rather than one, defining moment—but it was only another factor that proved how much I actually loved this man. And that very thought instilled a fear that shook me to the very bone.

We had a lot more to lose now than just his job and my education. We could be losing us. And that was more important now than it had ever been before.

Once we arrived at the university there were a lot of screeching brakes, messy parking and fumbling hands as I scrambled to catch up to his looming figure that seemed to stalk towards the building at an unnatural pace. The pounding of my heavy heartbeat was what drove me forward, anxiety rising with each quickened step that I took.

"Yoongi!" I yelled once I had lessened the distance between us, now dead center on the campus sidewalk. "Yoongi, wait!"

All of a sudden he whirled around, his abrupt halt causing me to crash straight into his chest. I let out a yelp in surprise, eyes wide and ready to interrogate him, before I felt the smooth curvature of his palms on either side of my face as he tilted my head up to his and slammed his mouth onto mine.

The world stopped spinning for a moment, everything around me fading into the motions of his plush skin, his soft lips exploding with flavor and spilling over my tastebuds, satisfying my thirst in a way that no water ever could. I didn't even question it for a second before I was melting into him, quite literally becoming putty in his hands as the rest of the world instantaneously escaped my mind.

It's funny the way that worked—the way he was able to completely erase everything that had once existed in the blink of an eye, just by his simple touch. Whether it was magic, or I was just that fucking whipped, I didn't know. But either way, I didn't possess the power to stop it even if I wanted to.

When Yoongi finally broke away, he was breathing heavily, his breath fanning across my face in cool puffs of air. "I don't care what anyone thinks anymore," he spoke onto my lips, his forehead pressing against mine with a firm force. "Let them see. The only thing I care about is you."

It was then that I was suddenly aware of our surroundings, the reality of our world crashing down around me as I glanced around at all the eyes watching us. It varied; there were those choosing to spare us a glance as they walked to and from their classes, those who stalled their current actions to lift their heads to us not once, not twice, but three times, and then there were those who stopped altogether, their widened eyes and slackened jaws dead giveaways that they knew exactly who Yoongi was: Professor Min, Algebra 101 instructor.

A stroke of his thumb across my cheek brought my attention back to him; I stared up into his eyes, the desperate look in them captivating me and making it impossible to look away. His chest was rising and falling beneath his shirt, his fingers were grappling at my face as he brushed my wisps of hair out of the way, silently begging me to understand, to agree with him.

And in that moment, I knew what I had to do.

My lungs were filled with a breath of newfound determination, dazed and driven by Yoongi's words and embrace. "I love you," I spoke with conviction, caressing the nape of his neck as if to give him more reassurance. "Let's go.”

With that I grabbed his hand, holding my head high for the rest of the campus to see as I started up Yoongi's stride towards the school's building. He was right beside me, weaving his fingers through mine and giving my hand an extra squeeze as if to say that he was here, that he was proud to let the world know that I was his and he was mine, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

We were going to take down Professor Lee.

The seminar room was empty of students when we stormed in. Seats were placed throughout the floor, papers were scattered on the desks, and Professor Lee was at the front of the room, fiddling with the cords from the projector screen.

At the sound of the door opening, her head snapped up. "Well well well, look what we have here," she smirked when she saw us, making no plans to move as she saw me marching over to her. "You know, I really don't think–"

Slap!

The impact of my palm to her face cut off her words, skin on skin contact crackling through the room and echoing into a deafening silence.

Professor Lee gasped, immediately grasping where a red mark was now forming on her cheek before looking up at me with wild eyes. "You just slapped me!" She cried in disbelief.

"You're damn right I did," I gritted my teeth, taking a threatening step towards her and raising my palm. "Want me to do it again?"

It was then that I felt Yoongi's hand on my back, the feeling having an instant calming effect over my senses whether he wanted it to or not. I sighed before visibly relaxing and lowering my hand.

"You're barbaric!" Professor Lee was foaming at the mouth, still holding her face with a slack jaw. "Are you forgetting that I'm a professor? When Dr. Kim finds out about this, I swear he'll–"

"Tell him!" I roared as loud as my vocal chords would let me. "Tell whoever, tell the whole world, I don't fucking care! I'm done with your bullshit, you selfish psychotic witch!"

With that I gave her one final shove against her shoulders, and when both of her hands flew out to grab ahold her surroundings in an effort to keep from falling over, I planted another slap right across her face. The impact stung my hand, but I didn't care. Seeing Professor Lee stumble through the air was worth it.

"Baby," Yoongi spoke in a gentle yet warning tone next to me, and I had almost forgotten he was there until I felt his grip slightly tighten around my waist. It was a comforting hold, as if to say he completely trusted and supported whatever I chose to do in this situation, but still a protective hold nonetheless. He wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get myself hurt.

"You know, what is your problem, exactly?" I tilted my head at her as she struggled to get her bearings straight. "Is there an actual reason you're doing all of this, or are you just mentally insane?"

"It–it's not right!" Professor Lee stuttered with wide eyes, raising a shaky finger to point at me and Yoongi. "Your relationship, it's–"

"Oh cut the bullshit, Sara," Yoongi let out a sound of disgust from beside me. "We all know that's not why."

"I... I..." she stumbled for words, wide eyes glancing back and forth between the two of us. "Who do you guys think you are? You can't just storm in here and start attacking me–"

I took a menacing step forward, pure rage making up for what I lacked in intimidation. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I fumed, reaching out to grab her again.

"No, please!" She suddenly cowered before I could get to her, shielding her head away from me with her arms. "I—Yoongi, I'm in love with you!"

Her confession sent me reeling backwards in a downwards spiral, my body instantly going limp as I watched her with a dumbfounded expression. A vast silence echoed throughout the room that could be cut with a knife before she finally spoke again.

"Ever since you started working here, I knew you were the one. I just knew it." Her voice was sad, exhausted now, and a look of defeat washed over her features.

"What?" Yoongi gaped in disbelief. "Sara, that was two years ago!"

"I know!" She spat harshly. "You don't think I know that? For two years, I had to deal with this silly crush I had on you. I had to spend every day with you, watching it bloom into love overtime, and there was nothing I could do about it."

"You could've just told me!" Yoongi exclaimed as if that was the obvious answer.

Professor Lee snorted humorlessly. "Yeah, and be made a fool of? No thanks." She lowered her eyes to the ground.

"Sara, we're grown adults. You could've acted like one and fucking said something to me about it, made a move, anything but drag my career under the bus!" Yoongi's voice was strained now, his eyes wide as if silently begging her to understand him while he was equally trying to understand her.

"I was going to!" She lashed out again while whipping her head up towards him. "I was working up the courage to ask you out on a date, and then I see that fucking slut on your lap and I–"

"Don't you dare call Y/N that," Yoongi suddenly growled, pushing past me and stepping towards her intimidatingly. "One more thing out of your mouth about her and I swear to god I will kill you right here, right now."

My breath hitched in my throat at his threat and I couldn't help but weave my arm around his to grab his hand, intertwining our fingers and squeezing tightly. He gripped mine back even tighter, as if he was desperately trying to latch onto whatever calming effect I seemed to have over him.

Professor Lee swallowed, choosing to stay silent and watch him carefully as jagged breaths rose and fell from her chest. "The point is," she continued on, "I saw you with someone else—someone who wasn't me. And that completely tore my heart to shreds."

"So the only solution is to ruin our lives," I chimed in sarcastically.

"I may not have gone about it the best way," she quickly gritted her teeth and shot me a glare before turning her attention back to Yoongi, "but I had to act on instinct. I still wanted to be with you, so I figured that maybe if I split the two of you up, you would have no one else to turn to but me."

Yoongi just stared at her, his face scrunched up in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Do you know how sick and twisted that is?" He asked.

"All I ever wanted was to be with you, Yoongi," she pleaded, her tone vulnerable now as she took a tentative step towards him and started to raise her hand up to caress his cheek. "I still do. It's not too late; we can leave now, just you and me and forget this whole thing–"

"Don't fucking touch me," he knocked her hand away with his forearm just before it could reach his face. "If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you're even crazier than I thought." He then stepped back to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me securely into his side. "I'm in love with Y/N, and I don't give a shit what rumors you or anyone else wants to spread about it. You're fucking pathetic."

At that moment there was the sound of a door bursting open, causing the three of us to turn our attention to the entrance of the room. There, standing in the doorway, was Dr. Kim.

The sight of him immediately deflated the elation I was feeling from Yoongi's words, instantly replacing them with a sense of anxiety and fear that lodged its way into my throat until I was sure I would die from suffocation. This was it; according to the text from Professor Lee, he had already seen the picture of me and Yoongi kissing. This was the moment that would decide our future forever.

I just hoped we had enough evidence against Professor Lee for him to take our side.

"So let me get this straight." Dr. Kim folded his hands on the dark oak wood of his office desk. "Professor Min and Y/N had relations before Y/N became a student here, while Yoongi was unaware of her age?"

"Yes sir," Yoongi nodded his head in assurance.

"And then you continued your relationship, even after finding out that she was your student."

"He didn't at first," I interjected in hopes of getting some of the heat off of Yoongi. "He tried to call it off, but I kept pushing it. The reason we got back together during school was my fault, not his."

Yoongi's eyes met mine from the chair next to me, his gaze seeming to hold the words that silently spoke that's not true, and I instantly knew what he was thinking. In actuality, he had been the one to give me after-school tutoring on that Saturday during the homecoming football game, not I. He had been the one to kiss me first that day. But there was no way in hell I would ever tell that to the dean.

"I don't care whose fault it is; all that matters is that it happened," Dr. Kim frowned. "And it's still happening if I'm not mistaken, correct?"

"I... um," my eyes flickered to Yoongi, every fiber of my being starting to fill with panic. Shit, we should've discussed this beforehand. I wasn't going to willingly rat Yoongi out, no matter how many times he's said he didn't care anymore if people knew about us.

Suddenly I felt the warm, soft sensation of skin wrapping around the curvature of my hand that was resting atop the wooden armrest. "Yes, it's still happening," Yoongi spoke, and then his fingers were intertwining with mine.

I practically choked on my own spit at his words; did this boy have a death wish? A cough came sputtering out of my lungs, the sound causing everyone in the room to look at me until I'd settled down. Even Professor Lee leaned forward from her seat on the other side of Yoongi, bewilderment written all over her expression as she gave me a look of disgust.

"Well there's your proof right there." She threw her hands up in defeat before gesturing to the two of us. "What more do you need? Expel them, Dr. Kim."

"B–but that's not it!" I suddenly exclaimed and lurched forward, feeling the heat of everyone's stare on our embraced hands, which in turn only made me grip him even harder for support. "Dr. Kim, you have to believe me when I tell you that Professor Lee has worked hard to make my life a living hell ever since I got to this school. She had a vendetta against me; she's in love with Yoongi, and so she–"

"That's not true!" Professor Lee screeched.

"She worked to turn people against us rather than coming to you because she wanted to blackmail Yoongi into being with her," I ignored her interjection and continued. "She even made a seminar about it—the mandatory seminar that everyone attended today!"

The dean turned his attention towards her. "The seminar about the importance of practicing safe sex?" He questioned in bewilderment.

My eyes practically bulged out of my head at his words; that's what she was telling everyone it was about?

"It was!" She scrambled in defense. "I mean I... I may have brought up Yoongi and Y/N as an example, but that's only because they fit the part! Y/N had a pregnancy scare not too long ago, and I didn't want the same thing to happen to our students!"

I felt the color draining from my face, blanching it a stone cold white and decimating any feeling I had left in my body.

How the fuck did she know about the pregnancy?

My head instantly whipped towards Yoongi to see if he had any logical explanation for this, and his face was as poised and stoic as ever in front of his two colleagues—but I could see through it. I knew him well enough to catch onto the slightest falter in his blinking, the increase in heat that collected between our palms, the small twitch of his mouth that would've gone unnoticed by anyone else who observed him. I knew there was no way he could've told Professor Lee about the pregnancy, because he was just as blindsided as I was.

Dr. Kim simply raised his eyebrows in interest before turning back to Yoongi and me.

"Dr. Kim," Yoongi spoke, his voice dripping with amusement, "I mean no disrespect, but do you honestly think that if Y/N had a pregnancy scare, we would tell Sara about it? Come on; not after all she did to us."

"They—they didn't tell me!" Professor Lee huffed out a desperate breath. "I overheard them while I was–"

"While you were what?" I interrupted with a raise of my eyebrow. "While you were spying on us to find any blackmail you could use on Yoongi?"

"N–no!" She stuttered, though at this point it was obvious that she was making up lies on the spot. "While I was walking past the classroom!"

"Why would we be talking about that with the door open?!"

"Enough!" Dr. Kim barked, his deep voice rumbling throughout the small office. We all grew silent as we turned our attention to him. "There will be no arguing of he said/she said in my office," he scolded, then turned his attention to Yoongi before speaking. "I understand that there was someone you wanted me to see?"

Yoongi, who had remained calm during all of this, simply nodded his head before releasing my hand. "Yes, sir," he said as he stood up and walked towards the door.

My eyebrows were knitted in confusion as I watched it all transpire: the words exchanged between the two men, Yoongi rising out of his seat, the sight of my biology professor being revealed behind the closed door. The whole thing came as a surprise to me, and my emotions seemed to be having a war between the shock and relief that I felt raging like a storm in the pit of my stomach.

Why didn't Yoongi tell me about Professor Park being involved in this discussion? When did he have time to ask her to come? Did it even matter at this point?

"Professor Park," Dr. Kim widened his eyes, his frame physically reclining back in his seat. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"As am I to be here," she smiled though her voice was venomous, eyes flashing to a very alarmed Professor Lee.

"Mia?!" The woman barked in disbelief at her friend's entrance. "What are you doing here?"

"Something I should've done a long time ago," Professor Park replied, and with that she turned towards the dean and opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm here to testify on the behalf of Min Yoongi and Y/N."

Earth-shattering elation rippled through me from the inside out, starting at the base of my toes and spiraling to the top of my head and the tips of my fingers, causing them to tingle and buzz with a newfound sense of hope. We might actually have a chance!

"What?!" Professor Lee's voice ripped through the air in a deafening screech. "This isn't a court case! You don't get to play witness!"

"Actually, if Professor Park has witnessed anything, I would definitely like to know," Dr. Kim chimed in, raising an eyebrow towards my biology professor.

Professor Park nodded her head towards him in appreciation before speaking. "A few months ago Sara approached me in my classroom to tell me about the nasty rumors that were surrounding her and a student. She singled the student out, saying to purposely damage their grades because they were treating her unfairly and disrespecting her rules and authority as a professor; she even went so far as to say that they were sending her death threats"

"What?!" The word ripped from my throat faster than I could blink as I stared jaw-dropped at the women in the room.

"That's not true!" Professor Lee instantly protested as expected. "Sir, I can assure you that I never–"

"I have the text messages if you want," Professor Park offered in a tone so nonchalant one would've thought she was conversing about the weather.

Dr. Kim raised an eyebrow. "Text messages? I thought you said she came by your class?"

"She did, sir." Mia interlaced her fingers in front of her and bowed her head politely. "We spoke about it on multiple occasions. I asked why she wouldn't just go to you, or even the authorities if the student was making death threats, but Sara was adamant. She didn't want any scandals revolving around her so that she could maintain the level of professionalism that she had developed here."

I heard a snort coming from next to me, and it was with a swollen heart of pride that I realized the sound came from Yoongi trying to hold in a laugh.

Professionalism? Her? I had never heard anything so far fetched in my life.

Sara simply glared as Mia ignored him and continued. "She assured me that the best way to deal with this pesky student was to slowly start to fail them, and I'll admit, I was angry for her. Sara was my friend, and I respected her enough to believe what she was telling me and follow her requests." She turned her head to where I sat on the other side of Yoongi. "That student was you, Y/N. And I just wanted to say that I am so sorry for the way I handled things. You were treated unfairly and poorly due to false information."

"It wasn't false!" Professor Lee jumped in to defend herself, but everyone was pretty much ignoring her. Even the dean could tell she was playing the part of the boy who cried wolf at this point.

"I'd like to see those text messages, if you don't mind." Dr. Kim reached his hand out expectantly.

There was a brief moment of silence while Professor Park nodded and tapped away on her phone before handing it to him. His cold and calculated eyes scanned the screen while saying nothing, all three of us waiting with bated breath for him to come to a decision in his mind.

There was no where left for her to run. With these text messages, all the constant denying that Professor Lee has done will be proven false and she will be exposed for all the hell she's put me through this semester. My heart was practically bursting at the thought.

"Well I would've appreciated it if you ladies had come to me with this information instead of handling it amongst yourselves, true or not," Dr. Kim finally sighed before giving Sara his full attention. "Ms. Lee, you have three people accusing you. Even if you didn't do it, there's obviously something that's turning them against you. And here at this university we strive to hold cooperation and communication above all else. If you don't get along with the fellow staff here, then why should I believe that they're the problem and not you?"

"Um, because Min Yoongi is fucking his student?!" Professor Lee was fuming now, her upper body lurching forward in her seat and her hands gripping the arm rests for dear life. "He literally just admitted to it!"

"Language, Ms. Lee," Dr. Kim scolded calmly. "I still like to maintain a professional attitude here in my office."

"I apologize sir, but that's beside the point." She was sitting back in her seat now, though her tone was no less frantic. "Min Yoongi is in a relationship with his student, and staff cooperation or not, I don't really think that's in the teacher handbook." She raised a snarky eyebrow at us as if believing that she had finally won.

I knitted my eyebrows, my palms feeling slick with a nervous sweat against Yoongi's as I realized the bigger problem here. It wasn't whatever lies and schemes Professor Lee had cooked up with my biology teacher; it wasn't even Professor Lee herself. It was the fact that Yoongi and I were in a relationship, and that was going to have enough consequences alone to shake me to my very core with fear.

"She's right," Dr. Kim uttered the words that I was silently hoping he wouldn't say, my grip tightening on Yoongi as I anticipated whatever outcome he's decided. Our fate was in his hands.

"Of course I am." Professor Lee crossed her arms and sat back in her seat with a smug grin.

"I'm afraid I have no choice." He was shaking his head, frowning at us apologetically though the sentiment didn't reach his eyes. "Mr. Min, I am sorry to inform you that you will have to be forced to resign from our university."

The color instantly drained from my face, and with it pulling all five senses that I have into the depths of the earth until I couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't speak—I could barely even breathe. There was a lump that was forming in my throat and settling deep within my gut, all of this feeling fake, too fake to be real.

Yoongi was fired, and it was all because of me.

"I understand, sir."

It was Yoongi's words that were pulling me from my fog of disbelief and devastation, my eyes blinking in an effort to snap back to reality as I looked from him to the dean. "No. No, there has to be something we can do, please!" I begged, my voice starting to get frantic the more the severity of the situation hit me. "I–I'll drop out! You don't have to worry about me ever coming near here again, just please, please don't fire him!"

"Y/N..." Yoongi's voice was quiet and full of resignation, defeat, but I wasn't giving up.

"Yoongi is an amazing professor who has worked here for, what, two years? He's extraordinary at what he does and students love him. It's not easy to find a professor like that everyday." I was staring into the eyes of the dean now, trying to move him with my words. "You shouldn't throw away someone as great as him just because of some stupid 18 year old's mistake! Please, Dr Kim." I leaned forward in my seat, the room silent as I spoke. "He wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for me. Please, let me suffer the consequences, not him."

I continued to stare in Dr. Kim's eyes, silently channeling my emotions through the pleading expression in my eyes, and it wasn't until I felt a comforting hand on my back that I was instantly drawn away into a more calm state in my chair. I gazed over at the owner of the hand, and he flashed back that smile I loved except it was sad, and it didn't reach his eyes, and I could tell there was so much he wanted to say to me right now if we weren't in the confinement of his boss' office.

"I understand your efforts, Y/N, but there's nothing I can do." Dr. Kim shook his head, and it was as if the world around me was shattering into blades of glass, scraping at my skin and leaving bloody wounds that I knew would never heal. "Mr. Min was involved in this relationship as well, and no matter whose fault it is, the professor needs to be held accountable. There is a level of professionalism and maturity that he must possess in order to work here; he's your superior, a respectable authority figure, and so he should've known better."

It was all I could do to keep from crying as I lowered my eyes and shook my head, every inch of my heart breaking for Yoongi until all that was left were tiny fragments to scatter in the wind. I couldn't believe I'd done this to him. The very thing he'd been worried about from the start—I had ruined his career.

"It is our goal as a university to see our students succeed," he continued, though I could barely hear a thing. "As for you, Y/N, I see no reason as to why you shouldn't keep attending this university."

I blinked a few times, confused. "You want me to... what?"

"You will have a suspension on your student records, mind you, and one more of those will lead to expulsion," he explained. "Though that doesn't mean that you can't keep going to school here. You will have to meet with an advisor every two weeks, though, who will be keeping a close watch on your behavior."

I could barely even believe my ears; had my hearing been completely lost due to the shock of the situation? "That's totally a double standard!" I gestured to Yoongi in disbelief.

"Y/N, it's okay..." Yoongi tried to calm me down.

"No, it's not okay!" I roared, eyes wide and brows furrowed in disbelief as I glanced at him before turning back to the dean. "Where do you think you can get off by treating people like this? This is his career—his life!"

"That will be enough from you, Ms. Y/N," Dr. Kim bellowed in a stern voice as he frowned. "I'm doing you a favor here by letting you continue your education. Speak out against me one more time and I will be revoking that offer."

His words were deafening throughout the office; it was suddenly understandable why he was so feared by those who worked under him. Yoongi started to run his hand along my spine in a soothing manner, and though it helped relax my fiery nerves and clear my foggy mind, I was still just as upset—if not more, now that the information was beginning to settle in.

"So that's it then?" Professor Lee spoke for the first time in a while, her lips pressed into a firm line, obviously disappointed by the turn of events though she didn't dare to speak out against Dr. Kim as he had warned. "Yoongi gets fired and Y/N gets a free ride?"

"Not so fast, Ms. Lee." The dean turned to her. "What you did was beyond unprofessional. You violated several school policies as well as bullied a student! Do you think that type of behavior is acceptable as a professor?"

Professor Lee opened her mouth as if to protest before slowly shutting it again, realizing that she had nothing left that she hadn't already denied. It was obvious that the evidence given to him by Professor Park, who stood silent in the corner of the room, was incriminating enough to sway his decision.

"I'm sorry to have to inform you that you will be fired as well."

"What?!" Her shrill voice screeched through the air, tearing whatever I had left of my eardrums and rendering me deaf here in this office. "What I did was no where near as bad as Yoongi and Y/N!"

"If anything, it was worse." Dr. Kim folded his hands over his desk. "Let's not forget that you managed to involve the entire student body in a false seminar that maliciously exposed one of our students and professors," he raised an eyebrow at her, "and that was just today."

"Yeah, not to mention all the other shit you did behind my back to make my life a living hell," I couldn't help from interjecting in a heated tone, though I backed off upon seeing the dean's stern gaze.

He redirected his attention back to Sara. "Here at this university, we strive to have a professional relationship, safe environment, and healthy lifestyle for our students. Neither of you achieved those three goals, so both of you will have to be let go."

Yoongi's expression simply remained placid and free of any emotion while Professor Lee's reaction was practically visceral, though neither spoke a word as heavy silence fell over the small office.

"Am I... am I still needed, sir?" It was Professor Park whose voice broke through the tension, everyone having forgotten she was there in the midst of the emotion-filled chaos. "Because if not, then I'm going to go."

"No, I'm just about finished here." Dr. Kim let out a sigh, as if what just transpired had been hard on him out of all people in the room. My blood boiled just looking at him, though I know I had to learn when to speak out and when to bite my tongue as Yoongi had taught me.

"Dr. Kim, is there any way you can reconsi–"

"That will be enough from you, Ms. Lee," his booming voice interrupted the frantic professor. "I've said all that I need to say on the matter. I'm not changing my mind."

"Dr. Kim?" I spoke up just as Professor Lee and Professor Park were getting ready to walk out the door. "I–I have something else to tell you. Un-related to this," I threw in when I saw him throw a glance in Lee's direction.

The man sighed before waving them out, leaving his office empty of visitors other than me and Yoongi in the chairs. I wasn't going to let that boy go anywhere.

"Y/N, I'm sorry that the outcome isn't exactly what you wanted but I'm afraid there's nothing I can–"

"Choi Junwoo tried to rape me," I blurted out.

There was a moment's pause as the dean was stunned silent with wide eyes, and out of my peripheral vision I could see Yoongi tense up and inhale sharply next to me.

"W–what–"

"Choi Junwoo," I spoke slowly for him so that he'd understand, "a student here at this university, tried to rape me at a frat party."

I couldn't leave the office without saying it. I couldn't leave the office without telling him. This wasn't just about me or the turmoil or trauma he caused; this was for every other girl in the future who might be a victim of Jun. Though in my heart I truthfully believed he was a good person, and that he really was just intoxicated beyond belief that night, it was still no excuse. If he had rape-tendencies while he was drunk and I didn't speak out about it, then I would be no better when it came to helping other sexual assault victims.

"Are you sure–"

"I found them at the party while he was mid-act," Yoongi jumped in, probably figuring he was already fired so there was nothing left for him to lose when it came to revealing details about our relationship outside of school. "It was... disgusting. I got her out of there immediately, but not before punching that bastard in the face."

"Metaphorically, of course!" I couldn't help but chime in, not wanting an assault charge to be on his record as well.

Thankfully Dr. Kim simply brushed off that minuet detail in favor for the more important issue at hand. "Y/N, what you're telling me will ruin this student's future. Are you absolutely sure you want to file this?"

Despite the anger that swelled up inside of me from him questioning my accusation, I still couldn't help the little trickle of doubt that crept in as I considered his words. At one point, Jun had been a friend... maybe even a potential lover had Yoongi not been in the picture. Dr. Kim was right, this information could potentially ruin his reputation, his education, his record... was I ready to carry the weight of knowledge that I've ruined someone's life forever?

"What are you talking about? Of course!" Yoongi spat an answer before I even had a chance to finish my thoughts. "She told you what happened, didn't she? Why would she speak out about something like this if she was making it up?"

"Maybe a personal vendetta?" The dean shrugged his shoulders. "People will do crazy things for revenge."

Now that got me heated. "The only one who wanted revenge here was Junwoo!" I stood up from my seat to yell. "He liked me and was mad that I turned him down. As if I owed my feelings to him or something! And when I told him no, he forced himself on me?! Is that really the type of message you want to send at this college? You know, since you're so high and mighty on "cooperation"," I did air quotes of sarcasm around my last words, my ears practically steaming with boiling rage.

"We will come out about this story, by the way," Yoongi added in, his voice full of venom. "And how will that look if you tried to keep us silent?"

"You can forget about me attending this university," I hissed.

"Alright, alright, settle down, the both of you," Dr. Kim lowered his hands in a calming manner. "I was not suggesting I buy your silence or anything of that nature. I was simply making sure you wanted to go through with this."

"Yes," Yoongi and I both answered in unison.

The dean nodded his head before clasping his hands together. "Alright."

The rest of the time in the office with spent filling on paperwork on a claim against Junwoo. I'd been given the option to be kept in the loop or even present when everything went down, though I politely declined. I wanted nothing more to do with that boy.

Though it would seem Professor Lee didn't share the same sentiment when it came to me, because as soon as soon as the two of us walked hand in hand into the hallway and Dr. Kim's door was securely shut, she sprung into action.

"You bitch!" She shrieked, not wasting another second as she leaped through the air and onto my body like a crouched tiger that was waiting for the right moment to attack. I felt the pressure of her weight against my chest and the sting of her nails scraping against my cheek, and before I knew it I was stumbling down, down onto the ground with another vicious blow to my jaw that was accompanied by her fist.

It all happened within a matter of seconds, but it wasn't long until I heard Yoongi yell Sara! and then her weight vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

All I could do was stare with wide eyes as Yoongi slammed her shoulders back against the wall, though it was the look in his eyes that caught my attention. I had seen that expression before.

He was about to throw a punch.

"Yoongi, stop!" I cried, summoning all the strength I possessed to push myself to my feet and stumble over to the pair.

Yoongi whipped his head towards me with exasperated, almost wild eyes and his brows knitted in confusion and disbelief. "Y/N, she attacked you!"

"She isn't worth it," I spoke firmly in an attempt to get through to him. "Yoongi, just let it go. She isn't worth the trouble anymore."

It was when I placed a soothing hand against his back that Yoongi finally sighed, his stance visibly relaxing and his hands dropping from Professor Lee's shoulders. "She's right," he spit in a low, venomous tone as he turned back to her and grit his teeth. "Thanks to Dr. Kim, you already got what you deserve."

"Yoongi," there were sudden sobs that were tearing through the hallway, and it took me a moment to realize that Professor Lee was now... crying.

"Yoongi," she continued as she clung onto his shoulders. "Yoongi, I loved you!"

Somewhere deep inside of me, past all the burning hatred for what this woman has done to my life out of pure jealousy, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her. This was once me, heartbroken over the effects of unrequited love. Yoongi was a very sought-after man, I'd come to realize, and it wasn't about my feelings or Professor Lee's or anyone else's. It was about his.

"Sara," Yoongi sighed, and there was almost a wince in his tone from how hard he was trying to make her understand. "It's over."

"W–what?" The woman was scrambling now. "It doesn't have to be! We can go back to the way things were–"

"There never was a ‘we’!" He ripped her hands from his shoulders. "We were friends, and then you sabotaged my career and Y/N's education. You never once spoke out about your feelings, came forward, handled things like adults," he stressed the last line. "You never once did any of those things! Instead you belittled another woman and cost yourself your job all for a man—someone who until now, was your friend." Yoongi sighed again and shook his head. "I hope you get the help you need, Sara. I'm sure there is someone out there who will love you unconditionally... but that person is not me."

And with that, he put a gentle hand on my back and we walked away.

“Oh my god.”

Those were the first words out of my mouth the second we exited the building, my hands resting on my head in disbelief as I turned to Yoongi. “Holy shit, Yoongi–“

“Shhh,” he instantly consoled me, his arms engulfing me in a comforting hug and my face tucking underneath his chin as he held me close. “We did it, Y/N. It’s all over.”

I stayed in his embrace for a few moments as his words sunk in. It was all over. No more secrets, no more Professor Lee—no more anything.

“B–but your job...” I pulled away to look up at him with a shaky tone, my brows furrowed in concern. “Dr. Kim fired you, he–“

“I resigned, Y/N. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” I couldn’t help but look up at him with a hopeless expression.

Yoongi simply nodded his head, the picture of nonchalance as if his career hadn’t just changed forever. “Yes. If I had gotten fired, it would look terrible on my resumé should I apply for another teaching position. However, given the circumstances of our arrangement...” he paused, no doubt thinking of Professor Lee, “I suppose he decided to take it easy on us all.”

My shoulders deflated in relief. “Well thank god for that...” I sighed, not even wanting to think of what could’ve happened if Dr. Kim had given us the harshest punishment. In an ironic, twisted way, I suppose I have Professor Lee to thank for that. If she wouldn’t have made my life a living hell, it would’ve been that much worse if Dr. Kim ever found out on his own.

“But none of that even matters to me right now,” Yoongi suddenly snapped, and then in the time it took me to raise an questioning eyebrow he had already grabbed both sides of my face and rammed his lips into mine, the same as he did before we went inside to confront Professor Lee.

Only this time, the kiss was different. It didn’t hold promises and potential; it held freedom. It held the success of finally getting through everything by the skin of our teeth, the relief and the pride and the pure love that we have for each other after overcoming everything that we’ve been through together. I kissed him and I didn’t care who saw—because he wasn’t my professor anymore. There were no invisible chains that bounded us apart. It was just me and him sticking together against all odds. Never in my life did I think I would ever be a part of a relationship so committed, so passionate, so determined. He and I would never stop fighting for each other.

“I love you, Min Yoongi,” I murmured against his mouth with a grin on my features that was hard to disguise—especially when I felt the corners of his lips pull up into that gummy smile that I adored with all of my heart.

“God, I love you too, Y/N,” he replied back with a content sigh, and then he continued to kiss me on the busy campus sidewalk until we were both breathless and blue in the face.

Because we now had nothing to lose.

Despite finally being released from the clutches that school had on us, the days following the meeting with Dr. Kim were not easy.

Other than having to put on a fake smile and continue attending a university where practically everyone knew about my relationship with now-former Professor Min (my mother would never let me drop out—not that I could ever tell her the reason I'd want to, anyways), there were the stresses that Yoongi was dealing with of now being unemployed. And what with all but abandoning my dorm room to instead spend my nights with him at his apartment, it was impossible to not feel the weight of his problems on my shoulders as well. No matter how many times Yoongi tried to put up a façade and reassure me that he was okay, I couldn't help but feel like this was my fault.

"If I just never would've made you dance with me at that club..." I'd say at times, unable to keep from tracing back each and every one of our interactions and blaming myself.

"Cut that out," Yoongi would snap.

"What? It's true!"

"You know I don't like it when you talk like that!" He'd turn to me with a stern tone. "I don't regret anything that happened between us, okay? Not one single bit." There was a heavy silence as his words would hang in the air. "If you wouldn't have asked me to dance, then who knows if I ever would've worked up the courage to kiss you? And I wouldn't be here, sharing this bed with the love of my life."

"Aw, Yoongi..."

And the two of us would make love, again and again until we'd have a similar argument some time later and repeat the whole process all over again. I'd feel guilty, Yoongi would remind me of exactly how much he doesn't regret meeting me, and we'd get lost in each other's embrace.

That is, until a simple Sunday morning suddenly changed everything.

"I got it."

I casually peered over at the sound of him from my spot in the living room, sitting criss crossed on the couch in my pajamas with a laptop in my lap. "What?"

"The job." Yoongi's voice was low, serious as he stared at the paper in his hands that had previously been so carelessly disregarded on the kitchen island along with the Sunday paper. "At the university in Seoul."

"Wait." He had all of my attention now as I sat the laptop on the coffee table and rose to my feet. "Like the Seoul National University university?"

"Yeah," he let out a single chuckle of disbelief before he pressed the paper against the counter and turned to me. "I got the job."

"Oh my god, Yoongi!" I exclaimed with my own chuckle of disbelief before running forward and wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms immediately engulfed my waist and lifted me off the ground as we spun around in place, my lips instantly finding his in a searing kiss that was full of passion and excitement to match our current mood. "That's amazing!"

"I know," he replied as he placed me down. A tentative smile was frozen on his lips as he stared off into the distance before letting out another sound of disbelief, his head shaking before his palm slid down his face. "I can't believe it!"

"I'm so proud of you!" I mirrored the grin of pure elation on his features, my chest swelling with joy and relief and most of all, pride.

I was so, so proud of Yoongi. I knew how much his job meant to him, and the feeling of guilt that weighed down on me from knowing that I was the one who inadvertently took that away from him, that I was the one who inadvertently caused all this stress of job hunting was instantly lifted off my shoulders. I knew how much he wanted this. I knew how hard he had worked to get this job at such a prestigious school, and god damn it, I knew how much he deserved it. If Yoongi was anything, apart from being an amazing person and a wonderful lover, he was great at his job. He was a natural born teacher.

Though no matter how many times I've willingly showered him with endless compliments about his work, he'd blush sheepishly and simply swat away all of my words with a simple kiss, or an "if you don't shut up your food is going to get cold. We're unemployed now; we need all the nutrition we can get. Haven't you ever heard of the Great Depression?"

So instead, I just chose to beam at him while he basked in the euphoria of the moment that this job acceptance brought on. After all, I knew he was well aware of how proud of him I was and how supportive I'd always be when it came to anything he wanted to accomplish.

Though the bliss was short lived.

I watched as Yoongi's expression slowly fell, the smile on his face slipping into a deep frown and his eyes turning to stone. "No."

"What?" I furrowed my brows, concern filling me and etching onto my features as I cupped his cheek in my hand, trying to figure out why his mood had changed so suddenly. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not taking it." His tone was cold, definitive, as if the subject wasn't even up for debate as he grabbed the letter.

"Wait wait wait," I hurried to stop him from tearing it in half. "What are you talking about? Why not?"

He turned to look at me with cold, incredulous eyes, as if he couldn't believe I was even asking a question so stupid. "The university is in Seoul, Y/N."

"Okay...?" I shook my head in confusion, still not understanding what the issue was. "And?"

"I'd have to move." He was taking the paper back out of my hands and ripping it right down the middle before I got the chance to stop him.

I suddenly deflated, the severity of his words dropping in my stomach and wrapping around the anchor of my heart, sending it down, down, down through the floor of his apartment and hurdling towards the center of the earth.

"...What?"

"I'd have to move away from you."

And there is was, the bomb detonating an explosion and demolishing whatever was left of my heart.

"No... t–there has to be another way, there has to–"

"Seoul is hours away from here, Y/N," Yoongi barked out, his tone angry and harsh as it always was when he was upset. "It's on the other side of the country; there's no way I'd be able to commute without living there."

"Okay, so why did you apply then?" I couldn't help but snap back defensively. "You knew the distance to Seoul prior to applying for the job. Why even bother if you're just going to get pissed about not taking it?!"

"Because I didn't think I'd get accepted!" His voice was loud, almost yelling now. "It's the most sought after, prestigious school in the fucking country and I didn't think some young idiot who got fired from his last job would be able to get in!"

It was silent as his words settled over the atmosphere, clinging to the air that filled the room around us and encasing my lungs until it was impossible to breathe.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I finally hissed. "You're a great teacher, and you know it. If anyone's a young idiot here, it's me!"

Yoongi scoffed with a shake of his head. "I'm the one who kissed you again during that tutoring session after telling you to stay away. I'm the one who fucked you against that desk." His tone was low now, and his eyes seemed to grow harder in realization with each step that he took towards me. "I'm the one who asked to take you out on that fucking date and I'm the one who pulled you onto my lap when Sara caught us in my classroom! God damn it, I'm the one who tracked you down at a fucking frat party and punched one of my students!"

His voice slowly raised until he was yelling again, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was now standing chest to chest and cornering me up against the countertop of the island, I would've winced at the loud volume so close to my ears.

"Stop blaming yourself, Y/N, when I'm the one who was the authority figure. I'm the one who should've had my shit together, but I just couldn't around you!"

I felt myself soften at that. As angry and intimidating as he seemed right now, surely frightening whoever would come into contact with him when he was like this, I knew that it was all a front. Yoongi wasn't the best at dealing with emotional situations—he'd all but bite my head off any time I even tried to mention his father—and sometimes lashed out in anger when he was upset or hurting inside. I knew how badly he wanted this job; I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice when he'd first submitted the application. And now, when the career position of his dreams was finally right under his nose, he couldn't have it. Because I was holding him back.

"You have to take it." My voice was solemn and steady as I stared him in the eyes.

He instantly frowned. "What? No, I–"

"Yoongi."

He fell silent, all signs of anger and malice wiped from his features once he saw just how serious I was being. A soft, bittersweet smile that had nothing to do with happiness slowly tugged at my lips as my eyes gleamed with pain. My heart was breaking with every word I was speaking, but I knew it was something I needed to do.

"You have to take the job."

The silence that ensued my words only further proved my point, simultaneously stabbing a knife into my chest with each passing second. He knew I was right. He knew it. He just didn't want to hear it.

"You don't..." He sounded smaller, more pitiful and confused as he tried to make sense of what I was saying. "You don't want me to stay?"

The hurt, the sadness, the utter hopelessness in his voice absolutely crushed me. I couldn't help but fall into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his chest and squeezing tightly as if I could somehow hold the pieces of him together that I knew were breaking. The severity of what was happening, of what I was doing started to settle within me the moment I heard his voice break.

"I do, baby," I replied, the sound muffled by the skin of his neck that my face was buried in as a sob threatened to claw its way out of my throat and swallow me whole. "God, you know I do. But you can't."

"Y–you can come with me." He was shaking his head now, his hands gripping at the shirt on my back with closed fists while he desperately tried to hold onto me, as if I would disappear beneath him at any moment. "We can move together to Seoul and you can–"

"You know I can't, Yoongi." It was my turn to shake my head, and with it came a heavy tear that fell down my cheek. "I have to go to school. I have a family who's helping pay for my tuition, and my mom— you know it's not all up to me."

I heard him sniffle as he pulled away, and even though I felt no evidence of tears from him against my skin or my shirt, his eyes were bright red when he stared back at me.

"I'm not leaving you, Y/N."

The sheer determination in his voice had me shattering like broken glass. "I'm not letting you do this, Yoongi. I'm not letting you waste this opportunity. Do you know how many people are waiting to work at Seoul University? How many professors would kill to be in your position?" I kept my gaze steadily on his as I slowly shook my head. "I care about you... so fucking much. I've never loved someone so much before... not like this." I paused, asking myself one last time if this was really the decision I wanted to make as my words settled in. I took in the sight of his beautiful, breathtaking features silently begging me not to do this. "I'm putting you above my selfishness," I finally decided with another shake of my head. "You need to do this Yoongi, for you. You know you do."

Yoongi slowly shook his head, though the expression on his face told me he knew I was right. "I don't want to lose you," he spoke as a tear spilled over the brim of his eye, dampening his lashes and leaving a wet streak in its wake as it rolled down his cheek, and the sight was the final breaking point that had me bursting into tears.

"Neither do I."

His fingers dug into my skin as he tightened his grip on my body, his forehead leaning against mine as the only sounds exchanged between the two of us were the unspoken words of labored breaths and soft sobs.

Sometimes when you love someone, you have to do what's best for them.

And I knew this was what's best for Yoongi.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #lmao why am i so impulsive #i decided i was gonna post this all of ten minutes ago and here we are #anyways this will help my peace of mind to know that at least SOMETHING is out there #some sort of closure to the series #not everything i had planned but #it'll do for now #i hope u guys can forgive me for whatever tf this is fjshgdkfd

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clouditae · 4 years ago

Text

Unexpected Confession

Word: 5.7k

You gathered up the courage to confess your feelings, but it seems everyone in school knows about it before you could even find him

“You’re really going to do it?” your friend asks, looking at you through the bathroom mirror in shock as you wash your hands. “You’re actually going to confess to one of the most popular students in this school?”

“Don’t scare me. I’ve already told myself six times today that I was going to confess.” You turn off the faucet, grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser. “Even if he rejects me and I can never look at him again,” you mumble.

“Y/N,” Aleah begins, blocking your exit from the bathroom with her arms spread out to her sides, “you’re about to confess to Jungkook, the basketball and baseball playing hottie. You understand his ex will not be happy to hear about this since she’s protective of everything.”

You frown. “He’s in basketball?”

Aleah sighs, rolling her eyes as well. “Yes he’s in basketball! How do you not know? You go to his baseball games,” she claims.

“I have NOSB, so I’m usually at the club preparing for the competition,” you disclose, pushing one of her arms down to get past her and out the door.

She groans, “You are such a—are you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s now or never,” you whisper. Your friend can only sigh in response, patting your back as the two of you part ways. “See you at lunch,” you call out to her, walking down the hall towards your chemistry class.

You have a test today, but you didn’t study as much as you would have liked since the club leader decided to give you “homework” to do and study for a small competition Friday. You’re stressed to the point where you’re beginning to think gray hairs are appearing. You almost cried when you thought you saw one. Turns out it was the light playing tricks on your eyes.

Entering class you take your seat, setting your bag down and pulling out a pencil. The second the last bell rings, you watch as the instructor passes the test out. You take in a deep breath. There’s nothing else you can do but try your best.

When the test reaches your desk, you immediately begin, surprised that after you finish, you know a lot of it. Some educated guesses seem like they’re the correct answer, but you’ll have to wait and see after it's graded and passed back on Monday. For the remainder of the class you listen to the instructor go over the next lesson on ionic bonding. You listen in silence, jotting down notes as the instructor works on the white board to explain in more detail about her explanation.

“Does anyone know if a cation gains protons to form a positive charge or does it lose electrons?” your instructor asks, a strand of her hair falling from her bun as she pushes it back, eyes scanning the room for raised hands. Looking through your notes, you raise your hand. “Y/N,” she says, giving a nod for you to answer.

“The protons in the nucleus do not change during normal chemical reactions. Only the outer electrons move. Positive charges form when electrons are lost,” you tell her, looking up from your notes to see if you’re right.

“That is correct,” she tells you, smiling as she continues class. So, for the rest of class, you take detailed notes and do a surprisingly good job at distracting yourself from your practiced speech you’re going to tell Jungkook after school.

Jungkook. The popular one in school. Your neighbor since your first year here when you moved to this town for your dad’s job. A few words are exchanged whenever the two of you see one another at home, and a lot of accidental gazes when you two would look out your bedroom window. You just happen to pick the bedroom right across from his.

Jungkook plays sports, is smart in class, has a girlfriend for two years—until they broke up over the summer before school started, and lots of friends. Whenever he walks down the hall, at least half the students say something to him, and he always talks to them like they’re his best friend. You wish you had the guts to try and be his friend, but you’re always afraid.

What if his personality is all a show and he’s a mean person? Well what a great way to figure out by confessing your feelings for him.

You almost bang your head against your desk until you remember where you are. To your luck the bell rings to let you know that class is over and lunch has begun. Packing your belongings, you head out of the class and enter the busy hall. Aleah will be waiting at the usual table, but before you can meet her, you need to put your chemistry textbook away and swap it out for your math book. Turning down a different hall, you notice several people looking at you; some are whispering to one another.

You try your best to ignore them as you reach your locker and put in the combination before exchanging books. Why would they be looking at you and possibly be gossiping? You’re not well known in this school, so why would you be on their minds? Maybe you're overthinking it.

Entering the cafeteria, you stand in line to get your food. You focus your attention on the display of food in front of you, debating on what to ask for when you reach the people standing behind the counter. After getting your food and heading towards the usual table Aleah sits at, you notice her expression.

An expression you don’t like.

“Y/N,” she whispers, as you take a seat across from her. “Everyone knows.”

You frown in confusion. “Know what?”

She looks at you with a sad expression. “People are talking about your crush on Jungkook and the confession you’re going to make after school.”

“What?” you ask in complete disbelief. “How do they know?”

No wonder people are looking at you and whispering to one another. Even now as you glance around the room you can see people looking at you and laughing with one another as they talk in low voices.

“Did you check to see if anyone was in the bathroom when you went in there?” she asks, resting her arms on the table. You can’t meet her eyes at the realization that you didn’t check. You were so nervous at telling Aleah your plan that you just forgot. “Y/N,” she says, tone comforting.

“I’m so stupid, Aleah,” you whimper, keeping your head down.

“You’re not stupid, Y/N. It was just a coincidence that someone was in that bathroom.”

“I heard you’re going to confess to Jungkook,” a voice interrupts. You look up to meet a pair of brown eyes. Golden brown hair, make-up packed on, and the school uniform—slightly unbuttoned and skirt higher than it needs to be. Naeun. Jungkook’s ex. “Well? Is it true?” she asks, tone demanding.

“That’s none of your business,” Aleah tells her, defending you before you can utter a word.

Naeun turns to look at Aleah. “Was I talking to you?” she bellows before turning back to you. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N,” she begins, placing her palms on the table and leaning in close towards you, “Jungkook only needs a break from us because he needs to focus on basketball, and that doesn’t mean he’s available to anyone. Got it?” Looking you up and down with a look of disgust, she stalks off.

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N. She’s just a bitch who’s sad she’s no longer with Jungkook,” Aleah tells you, but you can already feel it. “Oh, Y/N, don’t cry.” She reaches across the table and takes your hand in hers. “I’m gonna beat her ass—” A sudden loud bang makes you both jump. You look to see your best friend staring behind you in shock. “Holy shit,” she whispers.

Turning around, you see two people on the floor throwing fists at one another. A crowd begins to gather, but Aleah seems to be quicker as she pulls you to your feet and drags you towards the fight. After she pushes her way through, you get a clear view of the two. You watch as Jungkook pins down the captain of the football team and punches him in the face. Bringing his fist back, Jungkook lands another hit before he is thrown off by the man beneath him.

“I can’t believe Jungkook is fighting Aaron. They’ve been friends for years,” Aleah mumbles in confusion. “What could have happened?”

You watch as Aaron gets a few hits in before he is pulled away by security. Another appears at Jungkook’s side, holding him back from lunging at his friend. “Everybody disperse,” a loud voice booms, making you jump again. The dean walks to the center of the crowd, eyes glaring at everyone. “If you are not back to your tables and eating lunch by the time I count to three I will start giving out detention. One!” That is all everyone needs before the group breaks up and runs back to their tables.

You follow Aleah back to yours. “Man, that was scary as hell,” she tells you, shaking her head as she sits back down.

“I’ve never heard of Jungkook fighting with anyone before. He’s always friendly with everyone.”

“Tell me about it.” Aleah takes a bite of her food. “At least we know he can fight. Did you see how bad Aaron looked? Jungkook was nowhere near that,” she laughs.

“Still he could get into a lot of trouble and he may get suspended from school,” you worry, glancing at the hall through the open doors where Jungkook was taken down.

Suddenly you feel a splash of some sort of liquid whip across your face. You shut your eyes, feeling the sting as a familiar voice speaks up, “This is all your fault.”

“What the fuck, Naeun?” you can hear Aleah speak.

You’re not listening to their argument as you rub yours eyes. You’re just grateful that she threw water and not something else that can hurt. “It’s her fault that Jungkook got into a fight. This bitch deserves more than what I gave her,” Naeun finishes.

Rubbing your eyes, you watch her walk back to her laughing table. You can hear Aleah talking to you, but you’re so pent-up in your anger you don’t listen to her as you grab your plate full of your mashed potatoes with gravy and storm towards her. No one stops you. No one does anything as you grab her by the shoulder, spin her around, and smash the paper plate on her face, some of the food flying from the impact.

Watching the plate slide off her face, the ringing in your ears has finally stopped and you stand in a room filled with shocked eyes and silence. Naeun wipes the food from her eyes and you realize you’ve never seen someone look as pissed off as she does. “You’re fucking dead,” she says, ready to lunge but stops short at the deans voice.

The two of you turn to see him standing at the doorway. “Y/N, my office. Naeun, clean yourself up and come to my office.” It’s then you can feel your heart drop and the fear kick in. You’re in so much trouble.

“Here, Y/N.” You turn to see Aleah handing you your bag. “That was fucking awesome by the way. Text me later.”

Taking your bag from your friend, you follow the dean with heavy strides. You’ve never been in trouble before. What exactly happens when people get into trouble? Does he yell? You’re sensitive. You’ll cry if he yells at you. Hell, you’re already on the verge of crying.

Entering the office, he points to the line of chairs outside his door. You do as you’re told and sit down. You’re trying your hardest not to cry in front of the receptionist at the desk, but you can already feel your body shaking and your eyes going blurry. You look down, pretending to fix something on your somewhat wet skirt. You don’t realize how wet your hair and shirt are until droplets begin to fall from the ends of your hair.

Everything is a big mess, and so the tears begin to fall. Some fall on your hand while some roll down your cheeks. You sniffle as you quickly wipe at your warm cheeks. A pair of shoes come into your line of sight followed by a towel draping over your head. You look up to see Jungkook kneeling down to meet you at an almost eye level.

There’s a Band-Aid above his left eyebrow, his left eye slightly purple. Other than that, he looks the same to you. His hair is a mess from probably running his hands through it out of frustration. After developing a crush, and having him in a few classes, you couldn’t help but notice the little things.

“For you to dry yourself,” he says, gesturing to the towel on top of your head.

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice cracking just a bit. You begin to dry your hair, wiping at your tears as well.

“I’m sorry about Naeun,” he tells you, giving an apologetic smile.

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault.”

“In a way it is. Even though we aren’t together, every person she hurts is my fault because we’re not together…” he trails off. “If that makes sense.”

“Jungkook. I thought I told you not to leave until I say so.” Looking behind him, you see the school nurse standing in the hallway with her arms crossed over her chest in annoyance.

Jungkook sighs. “Guess that’s my que to leave,” he mumbles, looking back to meet your eyes. “Can I walk you home after school?”

You can feel your heart racing. “I may not be here after school. He might throw—I mean kick me out before then,” you tell him, fumbling over your words a bit.

He smiles. A smile that makes him scrunch his nose and remind you of a small animal. “I don’t think he’ll do that. If I can get off with a warning, then I’m positive you’ll get off with one, too.”

“Jungkook!” the nurse yells.

“I’ll see you after school.” He gets up to his feet and follows the nurse back down the hall. He turns around, walking backwards as he cups his hands around his mouth. “At your locker,” he calls, grinning and waving at you before turning back and around and following the nurse out of sight.

You can’t help but smile, cheeks turning pink and a flutter in your stomach. You feel more at ease by his words. Maybe you won’t get into trouble, but it seems the dean caught you in the act of smashing food in her face. Just you pulling an act.

So, you wait and wait. Five minutes turns to forty and still no sign of the dean coming out of his office. Even as Naeun comes in ready to pounce you, the dean does not call either of you in for another hour. Every now and then you’ll glance in Naeun’s direction from across the room, but you always look away when you realize she’s glaring at you.

“Naeun,” the dean says. You look up and watch him gesture with his finger for her to follow. Naeun gets up from her seat and follows him inside his office, the door closing.

And so again, you wait. You glance at the clock, watching as time ticks closer and closer to the last bell. Will he ever call you to discuss your punishment? It’s giving you anxiety as time ticks on.

Finally, to your relief and fear, Naeun storms out of the room, not even looking at you as she leaves the building. You look to his office door, watching him step out and look down towards you. "Come in," he addresses, walking back into his office. You get up, feeling your legs shake and hands clutching the towel as you enter the room.

You've been in his office numerous times, but never for getting in trouble. You're usually in here with questions about the club competition and the funding to get there, but never to get yelled at. You can feel yourself on the verge of crying again, but you blink them back, not wanting to look like a child in front of the one who can expel you.

"Take a seat Y/N," he says, taking a seat at his chair behind his desk. You immediately sit down, watching him as he picks up a light brown file folder from his desk. Opening it, his eyes scan whatever is in that folder. "I am quite surprised by what I saw earlier today," he states, not even looking up at you.

"I am so sorry, Sir," you croak. "I-I don't know what came over me—I just lost it. She threw water at me and started telling me it's my fault, and I just couldn't take it—but that doesn't excuse my behavior." You’re a babbling mess.

"I saw everything, Y/N. I know what happened." He finally looks up to meet your blurred eyes. "Jungkook told me to stay behind "just in case" as he put it, and I was surprised to see that he was correct." He closes the folder, leaning back in his seat. "I'm not going to suspend you or put you in detention. I'm just going to ask you to not do that again. You're a good student and I don't want you to ruin your chances of going to the competition in February. So"—he clears his throat, leaning forward and interlocks his fingers together on his desk—"I'm going to let you off with a warning, okay?"

You nod vigorously. "I promise I'll never do anything to end up in this situation again." The dean nods, shooing you off with his hand. You get up, thanking him like your life depends on it as you leave his office. When you’re out of the room, you feel so relieved and so exhausted from trying not to cry.

How was Jungkook able to guess that you wouldn't get into trouble? You'll have to thank him when school—

Right on cue the bell rings, indicating that school is over. You grab your bag from the chair where you left it on, draping it over your head and telling the woman behind the receptionist desk goodbye. You walk out the door and into the hall filled with students eager to get out of the building and home. Making your way towards your locker, feeling excited to see Jungkook standing there, you’re trying your best not to run.

You don't get that far when you are stopped by your best friend. "How did it go?" she asks, pulling you to the side to avoid the busy hall. “Are you suspended?”

You shake your head, feeling the biggest smile grow on your face. "I got off with a warning."

"That's great because do I have news for you," she says, looking around. She turns to you and tells you in a low voice, "I was told that the reason Jungkook got into a fight with Aaron was because Aaron was making fun of you and your confession you planned on doing. Jungkook just... jumped him."

"Really?" you ask, voice loud and completely shocked.

"Shh! Yes!"

"I can't believe he'd do that. He could have gotten in so much trouble," you say more to yourself than to her.

"He didn't get in trouble?" Aleah questions, shock written all over her face.

"Yeah. He got off with a warning like I did," you tell her.

"Holy fuck," she laughs. "So, the only two that got suspended were Naeun and Aaron."

“Wait, they got suspended, but Jungkook and I didn’t?”

“Hilarious right?” Aleah laughs as if she told you the funniest joke she has ever heard. You’ve never seen her laugh so hard to the point where tears begin to form and fall. You shake your head in defeat. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t tell me you don’t find this funny,” she argues, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t have time to laugh. Although I don’t get why Aaron was suspended when Jungkook was the one who initiated the fight,” you wonder. A group of laughing teenagers walk by as Aleah shakes her head.

“I was told he already did things that were just piling up because he’s the captain of the football team.” Aleah shrugs, gaze wandering off to the crowd walking past. Some towards the exit while others head towards their clubs or to practice. “It’s stupid that they took so long to suspend him, but are you ready to go?” she asks, turning towards you.

The two of you usually go to the park and hang out for a while before going home. You two either gossip or do homework that one of your instructors gave you. You’re always there for each other. Whether it be in friendship or in homework, you always help one another out. Today, however, you’re not going to follow her to the park. You feel bad, but knowing her, she’ll be pushing you towards your locker.

"I can't today," you tell her, feeling giddy.

"Why?"

You took in a deep, shaky breath. "Jungkook asked to walk me home." You watch as her eyes go wide. "He's waiting for me at my locker," you finish.

Just as you predicted, Aleah is pushing you in the direction of your locker. "Well don't keep him waiting! Hurry up and go!" You laugh, walking on your own. "If he does anything to you that you don't like, let me know and I'll go kick his ass okay?" she yells.

You turn around to look at her encouraging smile. "I'll let you know the second I'm home what happened!" you call back, waving to her before turning back around and making your way towards your locker.

Reaching your hall, it’s empty except for Jungkook. You can see him leaning against the lockers, looking down at his shoes as he kicks imaginary dust. You can't help but imagine what it would be like if he were to wait for you every day to walk you home. Like he’s your boyfriend. Holding your hand, listening to you talk about your classes, as you listen to him about his practices—you’d even wait for him after practice when you didn't have your club meeting. He’ll smile at you with that scrunch he does with his nose, give you a kiss on your cheek, and eventually your lips.

You shake your head of those thoughts, ignoring the racing of your heart as you make your way down the hall towards him. When you’re close enough, he looks up to meet your eyes. He smiles and you swear you see the light around him shine brighter. "Did you get in trouble?" he asks.

"Ah, n-no. I got off with a warning like you said I would."

He smiles even brighter. How is that even possible? "Told you," he begins, pushing off the locker, "You had nothing to worry about."

"But you did," you counter, remembering what Aleah told you. "You could have gotten suspended for starting a fight."

"But I got a warning," he returns.

"You didn't have to do that for me. All people do is talk, but never do anything," you exclaim, shifting from one foot to the other.

"But I didn't like the way he was talking about you," he speaks under his breath, but you hear him, and you’re at a loss for words on how to respond to that. You've never had anyone defend you the way he did. You want to hug him. "Shall we head home?" He takes a step forward, looking at you to see if you'll follow. You quickly do, walking alongside him as the two of you head towards the door that leads to the front of the school.

The walk is silent, neither of you saying anything to one another. It's not that you don’t mind. You enjoy the feeling of walking beside him. Just knowing that you can walk with him just this once is enough for you. Even if he rejects you because Jungkook is the nicest person you have ever met. He always treats you like everyone else. He's never rude and always says hello when the two of you see one another at home or even at school.

"So, um," he begins, clearing his throat, "I heard about the rumors..."

Your heart stops. Hell, even you stop in your tracks. You’re not ready for his response. "I'm sorry," you sputter. "You can just ignore everything that you heard. It—it was..." What can you think of as an excuse? You were so confident in telling him your feelings, but now that you're standing in front of him with him asking you about it, you lost your nerve. All your confidence is gone.

"Oh," he says, looking a bit disappointed. Did he want to hear it from you?

He says nothing else as he continues to walk ahead. You jog to catch up. What do you say? What are you supposed to do? It seems like you ruined the entire walk because you were going to confess to him. You want to hit yourself.

For the rest of the walk you glance at him to see what sort of expression he has, but you can't read him. You have no idea what he’s thinking and all it does is make you more nervous. Eventually, your house comes into view and you still have no answer. Just a feeling of frustration for yourself. You reach your house first, the two of you stopping at the walkway leading towards your front door.

"Thank you," you tell him, looking anywhere but at him.

"It's no problem. We live next door."

You shake your head. "No," you begin, gathering the courage to meet his eyes, "Thank you for defending me. No one has ever done that for me—well, except for Aleah, but no one has ever gotten into a fight for me."

Jungkook shrugs. "Well, Aaron is an ass, and he shouldn't be talking bad about someone he doesn't know."

You nod in understanding. "I appreciate it and I'm sorry you got hurt in the process." Silence follows after. The two of you seem to have nothing else to say. "Well, I should go in." You gesture to your house with your thumb. Walking up the walkway you tell him, "Bye." He waves as you turn your back to him, glancing at your windows to see if your parents are watching. Thankfully no one is peeking through the curtains.

"What if," he calls. You turn back around to see him still standing in the same spot. "What if"—he whispers to himself—"I want to hear the rumors." He takes in a deep breath. "From you."

"W-what do you mean?" you stutter.

Jungkook glances at your house behind you before walking up to you. "What if I want to hear what you have to say?" He looks down. "Will you tell me?"

You feel like you’re going to throw up. What is happening? He wants to hear your confession? What could that mean?

You're a mess. You're a huge mess.

What surprises you and him is when you say, "I like you." Oh God. You want to run in the house and hide forever. You're never going to go to school again. You're going to move countries—

"Me too."

You look back up to meet his eyes, blinking a few times. "What?"

You can see his eyes widen in shock, as if he just realized what he said. "I-I said I like you, too."

"Really?" He nods. "When?"

"Since you moved next door." He scratches the back of his neck, clearly unsure as to what to do, but you're just as lost as he is. "What about you?" he suddenly questions.

"Same," you reply.

He giggles and you swear your heart is going to explode. "I didn't know you liked me. If I did, I wouldn't have stuck with Naeun for so long. When I heard the rumor, I never felt so happy," he confesses.

"I didn't think you'd like me back," you admit. Why are you acting like this was a casual conversation?

"That's crazy. You're smart, beautiful, funny, the sweetest person I've ever met. Your smile is contagious." You can feel the heat on your cheeks, and it seems Jungkook notices it, too. "Come to my game Friday?"

You want to say 'yes', but instead you say, "I have a club meeting. We usually don't finish until nine."

He hums in response. "Your NOSB club meeting?" You’re shocked that he knoww but you nod in response. "I understand. You have a competition to win, so study hard okay?" You nod again, completely baffled that he knows what club you’re in. He nods as well, glancing at your house once more. “I should go,” he tells you. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” You really wish you can do anything but nod. Sadly that is all you do seeing as your voice is betraying you. Smiling, Jungkook leans in, pressing his lips to your cheek to give you a quick kiss.

You’re frozen in place, watching him quickly head towards his house, not even glancing at you. Touching the spot where his lips once were, you can’t contain the smile spreading as you head inside. Wait till you tell Aleah.

“What do underwater earthquakes, landslides, volcanic eruptions, or explosions generate?” Macy, the club leader, questions.

Jiyeon, standing at the opposite side of the room to be your opponent answers, “Whirlpools.”

Macy shakes her head. “That is incorrect.” She turns to look at you. “Y/N you get to answer.”

You think back to your study notes. “Tsunamis,” you answer.

“Correct!” Macy says with a proud tone in her voice.

Your club is currently split into two groups, practicing for the competition. You just got your team in the lead as you go to sit down and watch another member go up to the podium to answer the following question. You’re trying your best to focus on the questions, but your eyes keep glancing at the clock above the whiteboard and thoughts go back to the kiss and Jungkook admitting to having the same feelings as you. It’s like a dream come true. Never in a million years would you expect Jungkook to feel the same way, but he does and you are jovial. All you want to do is go to him, see him smile at you, hold your hand, hug you, and so much more.

“Correct,” Macy yells, bringing you back to the room. She collects the flashcards she used for questions from the desk she sits at. “Well we went past our usual time,” she announces, getting up from the desk. “Make sure you get home safely if you’re not going to take the bus.”

You glance at the clock one last time seeing that it is 9:05. You look up estimated times as to how long games are, and there is a slight possibility that the game may be playing still. You grab your belongings, casually waving bye and making your way out the door. The second you hear the door close, you sprint down the hall. The basketball game is on the other side of the school, so you’ll have to run the entire way just to try and make it to what's left of the game or to an empty court.

You run as fast and as hard as you can, legs burning, air coming out in short and desperate breaths. Rounding the corner, you almost slip but manage to regain your balance and continue to run. To your surprise you can hear the crowd cheering from the closed doors at the end of the hall. That means the game is still playing. Pulling open one of the doors you walk in until you’re standing next to the bleachers, a clear view of the game. Jungkook stands in the center of the court, yelling at his teammates. Within the crowd of moving players, the ball is passed to Jungkook. He glances around in front of him, seeming to look around for an opening. He mutters to himself before staring ahead and jumping up, tossing the ball.

You watch the ball fly across the court, hitting the rim once, twice—swish! The crowd erupts in cheers, the team members surrounding Jungkook as he yells in victory, fist in the air. You clap along with the crowd as some go to the center of the court and others leaving, talking about the game. You've never seen a basketball game, but from the way everyone is cheering so loudly you would have loved to have gone to one of his games; sit in the crowd, cheer when shots are made and boo when the opposing team does something. You don't know a lot about basketball, but you're willing to learn for him.

Jungkook's eyes meet yours from within the huge group surrounding him. He smiles brightly at you and your breath catches in your throat. He pushes his way through, jogging up to you. "You made it!" He’s sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead.

You exhale, "I didn't make it in time. I just saw the last shot, but I missed everything else. I'm sorry—" You’re cut off by his lips meeting yours. You feel yourself melting as you close your eyes, feeling his soft lips move against yours before pulling away.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have done that," he whispers against your lips. It seems as though he doesn't want to stop, even as he apologizes. You cup his cheeks, pressing your lips against his once more. It’s like a million butterflies fluttering in your stomach, the sound of the cheering people disappearing, and all there is in this building is you and him. He pulls away again, this time further but not far enough as you feel his breath against your lips as he asks, "Would you like to go on a date?"

You open your eyes to meet his. Smiling, you tell him, “Yes.”

#btsgoldnet #thebtswritersclub #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanarmynet #btswritersguild #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts au #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook au

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moonbeamsung · 4 years ago

Text

Serendipitous Synergy

“I can’t believe I got stuck with you, of all people, as a dance partner.”

“What? Scared I’ll steal the spotlight?”

“In your dreams, Lee.”

member: haechan

au: dance partner and rival!haechan x gn!reader

word count: 4.9k

genre: angst, suggestive, fluff

warnings: talk of insecurities and thoughts of self-doubt, a house party, stubborn reader, smug haechan, mentions of ‘sexual tension’ in the context of a dance, kissing, slight innuendos

author’s note: As a dancer myself, this idea came to me after we learned the choreography for Thriller in class one day! And yes I know Halloween was weeks ago but shhh. It’s my first time writing an enemies to lovers au, so I would greatly appreciate any feedback about things I can improve on in the future. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

network tags: @neo-constellations

“...You’ll be partnered with Haechan.”

The words of your instructor seem to swallow up the dance studio you’re standing in, echoing off of the walls with a piercing sound that makes your ears ache, your gut twist, and your blood boil.

This could not be happening.

Said boy seems just as averse to the idea as you are, the corners of his mouth downturned in displeasure.

Your teacher, however, continues to rattle off the rest of the pairs, some of them a little surprising but none nearly as unexpected as the two of you being put together.

Eyes narrowed and gazes sharp as daggers, both you and Haechan turn to stare each other down.

The standoff makes everyone else in the studio uneasy, and though the other dancers aren’t unaccustomed to your endless rivalry, they fear the potential hostility of your reactions. But to their astonishment, it never escalates beyond these stinging glares directed at one another. You’re surprisingly professional about it on the outside, not letting a single swear word slip out from between your lips, while he bites back a snarky insult.

On the inside, though, you’re a mess.

Haechan has been somewhat of an enemy of yours for as long as you can remember, though by no fault of his own. No matter what you did or how hard you tried, ever since you were both young students struggling to find your footing in the artistic world, he’s always been better than you. At everything.

If you managed to nail a double pirouette, he’d step right up and do a third like it was nothing. You finally got your split? He’s already had it for a month, at least. It just wasn’t fair. You both had started dancing at the same age, at the same time, with the same amount of experience: zero.

In all honesty, Haechan had done nothing wrong. The combination of poor timing and better luck had worked against him all those years ago to brew these bitter feelings inside of your heart, rising to the surface whenever you would set foot inside the familiar studio.

These constant sentiments of inferiority took their toll on you, making you fear being compared to him above anything else. It was childish, but you couldn’t stand to be reminded of feeling completely and utterly incompetent next to him. Whenever you performed, you were grateful for the large amount of other dancers occupying the stage, leaving little opportunity for the two of you to be noticed in conjunction with one another.

Now that it’s going to be just the two of you under the bright beams of light cascading down from the rafters, dancing in close proximity, this worry is at the forefront of your mind.

You would do anything to be able to go back to your first year at the studio, when you were young enough to recognize that his skills seemed to outweigh yours, but as a carefree child you remained largely unbothered by this fact. As you got older, it was like a switch inside of you flipped and made you extra aware of each and every thing that you did. Perhaps it was the heightened self-consciousness that puberty brought combined with the already stressful lifestyle of a dancer, but something changed one day, and it was all you could think about when you saw him.

Your internal doubts always translated into being eerily quiet during practice, asking a question to clarify the movements only when it was absolutely necessary. Even your teacher noticed a shift in how you danced. Your gestures and steps lacked their usual precision, and all the confidence you had built up for so long vanished into thin air.

Not sure how to interpret your sudden silence, Haechan took it upon himself to get a word out of you in whatever way that he could, with comments and jokes and even the occasional compliment on your technique. It hardly helped, though. In fact, your constant failure to respond to his attempts created a sort of resentment in him as well, one not generated by envy or insecurity, but simply by confusion and frustration.

During practice one afternoon, you had become so fed up with him trying to talk to you that you lashed out, pushing him away with surprising strength. “Just leave me alone!” You had shouted at Haechan, but you instantly regretted it when you saw the way his eyes welled up with shiny tears, full of hurt after his genuinely good intentions had been totally rejected by their unwilling recipient. Your guilt, however, failed to overpower your stubbornness.

This sent Haechan into his own spiral of the silent treatment before he started to channel his feelings into a similar bitterness. From that day forth, you each became the other’s arch-enemy, challenging one another in any way that you possibly could inside the studio and on the stage. Your instructor, choreographers, and fellow students quickly became tired of the implicit competition that always existed between you, but what on earth could they do to stop it?

At the present moment, they’re contemplating this exact idea, along with just why your teacher thought pairing you with each other would be a good idea. She had done it with the intention of putting a long overdue partnership into action and hopefully eliminating your immature rivalry. Selfishly, she’s also very eager to see how your mutual contempt translates into movement, inwardly predicting that the tension levels will be off the charts.

Not long after, you’re dismissed from practice for the day, but not without a warning look from Haechan. Against your better judgment, you join him by the doorway once everyone else has filed out of the studio.

He clearly called you over for a reason, but you cut him off without even waiting for him to speak.

“I can’t believe I got stuck with you, of all people, as a dance partner.”

Oh, so this is how you’re acting? Two can play at that game.

“What?” He snickers, “Scared I’ll steal the spotlight?”

“In your dreams, Lee,” you scoff, already tired of his taunting attitude.

“Anyway,” his voice is stern before doing a complete 180, now a bit more gentle, “If we’re going to be dancing together for the next few weeks, we might as well be on speaking terms, don’t you think?” The expression Haechan wears on his face is the softest you’ve seen it in a long time, which is definitely saying something.

“I suppose.” Answer short and tone abrasive, you huff a lousy excuse for a goodbye before marching out and into the hallway, but he’s faster than you. You spin around to shrug off his hand from your shoulder, and it gives him the chance to tell you one last thing.

“Look, if you’re going to be like that, it’s not going to make working together any easier. We’re not little kids anymore. You can go back to hating me once this is all over, but can we at least try to put our differences aside and just cooperate for once?”

You nearly split your lip as you bite down on it, holding back a burst of aggravation at the situation you’ve been put in. “Fine.”

You have no idea how you’re going to get through all the practices and all the shows while simultaneously dealing with the boy, but one thing’s for sure: you’re going to prove that you are just as skilled, and just as talented a dancer as he is.

The next time you see him is two days later, at your first rehearsal for this dance. Your studio has always had a Halloween-themed showcase, but it wasn’t until this year that you were old enough to finally be cast in a more exclusive number. The fact that you’re no longer a part of the large group routine, always performed to the same upbeat tune and with the same easy steps, is one of the few silver linings that your duet with Haechan presents.

Faces lined with fatigue and eyes still heavy with sleep, you both arrive at the studio in the morning, duffel bags in hand, the comfy slides on your feet dragging across the hallway carpet with every step. Loud music blares from inside the room, brightly lit despite the early hour. Beside you, Haechan instantly recognizes the tune to be Michael Jackson’s Thriller, and perks up a little at the sound. Too tired to poke fun at his near obsession with the singer, you let his little celebration of the choreographer’s song choice slide.

It’s not your usual instructor that’s going to be teaching you the movements to go along with the piece, which means you have the added challenge of adapting to a different set of preferences, expectations, and choreographing style.

It’s certainly a dance that’s unlike any you’ve ever learned before.

The rehearsal starts off well, and both of you quickly catch on to the basic steps that are somewhat like those of a waltz, except they have a more sinister feel to them in order to match the spooky time of year. Facing each other but standing on opposite sides of the room, you step forward, to the side, to the back and then to the side again. On each accented beat you throw your heads back sharply, mimicking the way the neck of an inhuman creature might snap under any sort of force.

In the next section of choreography, your gazes are supposed to meet once you tilt your heads downward, slowly this time, but it’s difficult to maintain eye contact with Haechan for more than a few seconds. Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t even hesitate to stalk towards you in this part of the dance, which calls for you to circle each other like a hungry predator and its timid prey. Maybe it’s the animalistic glint in his irises that throws off your balance and makes you stumble when you see it. Or maybe it’s the fact that your rivalry with him has been entirely disregarded at the moment, brain focused solely on absorbing all of the new information and ingraining the movements into your muscle memory, nothing else.

What frightens you even more than the things that go bump in the night is that all those years you spent... well, not hating, but strongly disliking him could go to waste. It usually takes a lot of time for you to get over things like this, and in a way, you feel like you would be disappointing yourself if you let all of the agonizing feelings of self-doubt go, just like that.

These thoughts swirl around in your mind as you listen to the choreographer’s next words.

“Okay, put your hand here.”

“Like this?”

“Yes, now you’re going to drag it across him, from there to there,” she directs you with a finger, “And then he’s going to pick you up in a scissor lift.”

You’ve never done one of those before, but with some helpful guidance, you begin to have a small bit of faith in yourself that you’re capable of pulling it off. The music starts and you go from the top all the way to the part you were just taught, taking a deep breath in preparation for what’s about to happen.

Just like you had been instructed moments ago, you step very close to Haechan, right behind him, actually, and place one hand on his shoulder as you trail the other across the front of his chest, fingernails scratching the skin underneath through the flimsy t-shirt he’s wearing. You step around to stand in front of him and continue the motion, peering at him with a hesitance that melts away and into an assertive gaze once you see the apprehension in his own eyes. His skin crawls a little, not out of fear but an odd satisfaction and excitement at the feeling of you so near and the sight of your eyes bright with so much determination and dominance, lingering touch tracing the base of his neck and stimulating his nerves from head to toe.

You yelp slightly at what he does next even though you knew it was coming, your self-assured exterior evaporating only moments after it appeared. Haechan turns around and sweeps you off of your feet to hold you in his arms. In the blink of an eye, he helps you hook one of your knees behind his head as he tosses you into the air with seemingly no effort whatsoever, flipping you around to face the other way and catching you immediately after. The complicated lift makes your heart leap to the front of your throat with exhilaration, and you mentally applaud yourself for succeeding on the first try.

Haechan finds it odd that you were so willing to do this lift in the first place, since trust is a key component of partner work in dance. He can’t explain it, and neither can you, quite honestly. A small part of him, however, is glad you didn’t object to the prospect of him being directly responsible for your safety for even the most instantaneous of moments.

“Alright, so for this next part, I’m sure you’re aware of that fact that Michael Jackson was famous for his pelvic—”

Okay, that’s enough, you’ve heard enough. Tuning out the conversation and whirling around to face away from the floor-to-ceiling mirror, you twiddle your thumbs while the choreographer teaches Haechan one of the iconic dance steps in Thriller, and your evident shyness at her unabashed explanation makes him smirk. Thankfully, she has a different set of movements prepared for you.

Since when are you ever shy around him, though?

You still can’t bring yourself to watch your reflections in the glass when you practice the new part together, since he gets so into the provocative motions. His eyes seem to taunt you with the smugness they hold, and you hate the way he’s testing you. You can’t stand it, you can’t stand him, you can’t stand those eyes for all the times they send a shiver down your spine, for all the times they come alive with a beast-like glow. Those eyes can go from soft and sympathetic at times, although the moments are rare, to something else entirely. His mocking stares make your stomach turn, reminding you of why you’ve felt this way about him for so long.

But you’re scared that a new and different feeling is developing inside of you, one that’s telling you he’s not so bad, that you should give him a chance. Haechan has noticed a similar one within himself, and he begins to regret the way he immaturely perpetuated your own resentment for so long.

Even if you do end up making amends eventually, he’s not sure he’ll be willing to abandon all of the playful glances and teasing remarks with flirtatious undertones he sends your way. Do you even notice these things? If your periodic blushing is any indication, then the answer is most definitely yes.

You spend another couple of hours under the choreographer’s direction, stopping only when you had been taught each and every step from the piece’s beginning until the end. Though a Halloween-inspired performance, there’s a surprisingly large amount of eerily romantic undertones within it. You don’t have enough fingers to count the number of times you ultimately caress some part of the other’s body in a forbidding manner, with locked eyes and threatening, fiery glares.

The two of you also have a second but more simple lift, in which you jump and Haechan catches you by the legs to pull your torso against his, while you cling to him tightly like a koala. He supports your weight fully, and never once does the possibility of falling cross your mind. It’s strange how your body is so trusting of him, much more so than your mind.

Towards the end of the song, the lyrics mention something about cuddling close together, the timing of your movements intentionally mirroring the words. Haechan walks in a circle, still carrying you in his arms, and unlike when you’re standing on your own two feet, he actually has to look up slightly to meet your gaze with his own. Something doesn’t feel quite right, though, both of you sensing that you should be putting more effort into the eye contact between you right now.

“No, no, no! Stop for a second.” Your choreographer looks frustrated.

“You have to look at each other like you really mean it,” she corrects. “Just imagine that you’re two lovers on Halloween night, clinging to each other for dear life as you’re being surrounded by every kind of monster imaginable.” Even Haechan flushes a deep red at the descriptive picture she paints in your minds, hoping to inspire you. “Try again, please.”

Putting every necessary emotion into your expressions, you both stare each other down as he lifts you up again, this time with a never-before-seen passion burning in your eyes that could only be described as crazed, lustful desire.

Haechan has always admired your skills, although internally these days, ever since he met you, especially your ability to easily adapt to the message or tone of a piece. Happiness, sadness, anger, whatever your instructor asked of you, you could embody the exact feeling on your face, not to mention in the way that you moved to the beat. Out of all of the scenarios your choreographer could have illustrated, this one is something he never would have expected you to be so ready for. He’s taken aback by how smoothly your facial expression transitions from sheepish to seductive in no time flat.

You wish you could say that you’re not flustered by how well he matches the look in your eyes with his own tantalizing gaze, but alas, that’s not the case.

It’s undoubtedly a dance with a more mature theme than either of you are used to, but you’re both such naturals at it that she compliments you once Haechan sets you back on the ground.

“That’s exactly what I want to see! Keep it up, you two. Are you sure you’ve never been in a piece with any sexual tension before?”

You’re glad you hadn’t quite taken a sip from your water bottle yet, because you definitely would’ve spit it out from pure shock and embarrassment at the bluntness of her remark. Haechan was not so lucky.

The two of you run through the dance almost endlessly, and by the end of your rehearsal your legs are threatening to give out at any moment. “Last time,” she alerts you, “And then you’re done for the day.”

A chorus of some minor corrections but mostly proud affirmations meets your ears as you practice the piece for the final time. “Other foot, Haechan... Strong arms! Good... And lift! That’s it...”

About to collapse from exhaustion and grimacing at the disgusting feeling of sweat on every inch of your skin, both of you thank the choreographer once she dismisses you.

“You two did a great job today, now go home and rest. You worked hard.”

Fishing your car keys out of your bag, you hear her packing up her things inside the studio before she exits the room and strides into the hallway, flipping the light switch and shutting the door behind her. “I’m going to recommend to your teacher that she should partner you up more often. I was really surprised by how well you collaborated.” She chuckles a little, “And to think she told me that you might not get along.”

Exchanging questioning looks, you both nod and smile at her before she makes her way down the hallway, leaving the building through the staff door.

“What was that all about?”

“No idea,” you reply to Haechan with nervousness in your voice, not sure if this is the right time to apologize for several years’ worth of constantly being at each other’s throats.

The moment passes before you can make a decision, and Haechan bids you farewell with a “See you around” over his shoulder. You can’t get the choreographer’s comment out of your mind as you drive home.

But she’s right: your chemistry with each other is unbelievable. Each time you practice this dance in front of them, the rest of your friends stand wide-eyed and open-mouthed at how you move in perfect unison, leaping and turning and touching at all the right moments. Your instructor is sure her jaw is on the floor. Sure, she was expecting something powerful, something fierce, but nothing like this.

The weeks leading up to the Halloween showcase are hectic, as they always are, filled with the rush of adrenaline and last-minute preparations being made, ensuring that everything would be ready for those long nights spent on waiting behind the curtains, moving amidst the stage fog, and dancing below the bright spotlights.

You think you’ve spoken to Haechan more in the past 4 days than you have in the past 4 years. He doesn’t know if it’s just his imagination, but it seems like you’ve gotten more comfortable performing with him as time has gone by. Maybe he should be paying more attention to the steps instead of the way you lean further into him as he clutches your form in his strong arms, torsos pressing into one another and the crevices of your bodies aligning with ease. Maybe he shouldn’t get distracted by the closeness of your lips to his forehead, by the distance that always seems to decrease each time you run through the dance. One day he’s sure he’ll feel their delicate curve against his skin, or maybe they’ll slip down a little to be more level with his. Either way, Haechan isn’t complaining.

The rehearsals that spill over from their scheduled time slots into the late hours of the night leave everyone in the show drowsy after the intense quantities of repeated exertion, running piece after piece over and over again until just standing up is a feat within itself.

And then, all of a sudden, it’s the day of the first show. Costumes have been tailored, makeup has been applied and hair has been done up with an ungodly amount of products and pins.

It can’t be much longer until it’s your turn to perform, so you’re not sure why you find yourself grabbing Haechan by the sleeve of his intentionally tattered shirt, meant to look like that of a zombie, and pulling him into a dark, secluded corner of the backstage area.

“We’re on in 5, what are y—”

“Can I apologize?”

He blinks a few times, processing the word he never thought he would hear leave your lips.

“For... huh?”

“Everything.” You’re thankful that the lighting is minimal back here, concealing the glistening water drops that are beginning to gather at the rims of your eyes.

Voice nearly breaking, you can’t articulate why it feels like the right time to say all of this. But here you are.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for so many years of unexplained anger and outbursts towards you, I’m sorry that I’ve been acting so immature even after all this time. I’m sorry for blaming you and making excuses to justify my actions and my feelings, I—”

You have more that you want to say but the words are no longer coming out, and maybe it’s because your throat feels like it’s burning from all of the emotion it just conveyed in the span of just a few seconds. Maybe it’s because you’ve somehow lost your voice even though you hadn’t been speaking above a whisper. But the most probable cause of them all, is this: maybe it’s because you’ve been rendered speechless by Haechan’s own apology that he delivers by messily crashing his mouth into yours, any further thoughts melting away against his soft lips.

For once, you don’t mind being cut off by him if it’s like this.

His heart begins to sink when you pull away after only a few seconds, but a small smile graces his features once again as you lean in so that your lips hover next to his ear.

“You better not mess up my makeup, Lee Haechan.”

“Donghyuck, actually.”

“What?” Quizzically, you arch an eyebrow.

“My name. My real name.”

“So why do y—”

“Shh, no time. Kiss now, talk later.”

You can’t argue with that. Not when he’s beholding you with a long-awaited forgiveness and a fondness long-concealed in his eyes. Not when the thrill of a time limit has your brains going a mile a minute, an electric buzz erupting over the expanse of your skin his hands are grasping.

You kiss him like it’s the only thing in the whole world that you know how to do. The setting is far from picturesque, with the tangled technical wires littering the floor at your feet and leftover stage equipment haphazardly leaning against the wall, but neither of you really care. Taking care not to snag the fabric of your costume, his fingers find purchase on your waist and his lips on the dip of your collarbone. At first they dotingly imprint fleeting pecks onto the rise and fall of the skin there, but when their pressure and his haste starts to escalate, you know you have to stop him before he starts something you can’t finish.

“Hyuck!” The abbreviation of his name makes his head snap up, bewildered but pleased.

“You can’t leave marks, I told you...” you trail off. “Hey, why are you smiling like that?”

“Please never call me anything else, ever.”

Donghyuck brings you in for one more kiss, well aware that a stagehand could turn the corner at any given moment. Drinking you in, he captures your lips between his, letting your body press his back into the wall behind him, and a few sharp inhales later, you break apart.

You fix his hair while he adjusts your clothes, and you’re just in time because a technician spots you and urgently gestures towards the stage. “You’re up!”

Positioning yourselves on opposite sides of the large performance space, the lights go down and you hear the rush of air from the heavy curtain opening as it glides past you. The thick artificial smoke partially obscures his form, but you can see his eyes clearly, nearly glowing in the darkness.

As the music starts, slow and quiet at first, you step to the rhythm just like you practiced. When a loud, electronic chord blares, you both pick up speed, launching into that waltz step you first learned many weeks earlier. For the first time ever, you’re able to look into his eyes.

Anyone could see that your movements complement each other effortlessly, but only your teacher picks up on the shift in mood after the countless times she’s seen you perform in the studio. Only she notices the shift in both of your gazes. You look... happy. Focused. Confident.

Donghyuck was able to bring you out of the shell you retreated into so long ago. You don’t feel subordinate as you’re dancing next to him, or being held in his arms. You move as equals, two parts of a whole.

When he picks you up, you can’t help but allow a small smile to stretch your lips. Donghyuck tries to remind you that you’re supposed to have lustful looks in your eyes by narrowing his own at you, but it’s no use. Your slight grin is contagious, and it ends up taking over his face as well.

You finish the piece smoothly, ending in a pose with your backs pressed together and hands clasped. Applause erupts from the audience, and a few cheers come from the rest of the performers waiting in the wings, shielded from the view of the crowd sitting in the seats below.

Needless to say, as you pass other dancers in the halls and receive countless congratulations and compliments, all you can think about is having Donghyuck’s lips on your skin again.

One long heart-to-heart and dozens, no, hundreds of kisses later, all is right with your world. It’s foreign territory to you both, not wanting to pounce on each other at every waking moment. But it’s something you’ll explore together, figuring out how to make up for lost time and just how to go about this newly-repaired relationship.

Exiting the empty dressing room, you take his hand in your own and head backstage once again to watch the rest of the showcase from the side, with your head leaning on his shoulder and his arm pulling you close.

At the party held for all the members of the show’s cast that night, it’s far too loud for your liking, and there’s no room to properly dance with Donghyuck. Despite you all being professional dancers-in-training, everyone else seems to have reverted to the mindset of your average high school student, thinking that jumping up and down repeatedly qualifies as dancing. You disagree, but whatever. It’s not important.

What is important, however, is the fact that the two of you would much rather escape the suffocating crowd of young adults. You would much rather slip out through the sliding glass door that leads to the house’s backyard, marveling at the fading sunset that melts into a deep blue night sky dotted with splashes of clustered lights. The stars are nature’s spotlights, shining down on you as Donghyuck takes you in his arms, one hand finding yours and the other resting on your side, somewhere between your hips and your waist.

Swaying in the silence with only the noises of the evening as your soundtrack, the boy that you would’ve sworn was the devil incarnate a month ago looks so angelic, so lovable. You can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing out on.

“So, should we start over?”

“Definitely.”

There’s no one else in this world you’d rather dance the night away with.

383 notes · View notes

cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

Text

00′s Love (Sungchan x you)

a/n : I DID IT!! @starsfly01091711 this one’s for you! A second part to 90′S LOVE

SECOND PART OF 90′S LOVE (Thank you for the much love this story received)

warning : some mentions of forced dietary (not allowed to eat), slight angst, HAPPY ENDING!! I kinda liked the ending, so please if you’re okay with the theme go on read this and tell me what do you think about the ending!

here we goo

Moving on was hard, even when you have been hurt by the past and the present is waiting for you to reach for their hand and walk forward to the future with them.

Mark Lee was your first crush, and everything about a first crush makes it harder for you to realize he was not the one and that you should stop gawking over him and his boyfriend. They look cute, as much as you hate to admit it, Haechan brings a big smile to Mark. A smile you could never see when he is with you.

“(Y/n)!” your instructor yells one more time at you. You shake your head from the daydream and stutter “Yes?”

“Dozing off again? Are you sure you can follow today, you seem a little bit under the weather.” Your instructor skates to you and plants his palm over your temple.

You laugh dryly, “No, I’m okay. I am not sick,” you drop your tone, but deep inside your heart you want to add up “I am not okay, imagine learning your crush has a boyfriend, you have to prepare for the state championship, and you’re just not feeling well inside your heart.”

“Okay, we can take a break if you really need it, but buying more time is what we need. The championship is in three months and its been your dream to participate in one.” He tries to cheer you up.

You nod, “I got this, shall we repeat from the top?”

He nods and turns the music on. You begin dancing on ice, over the soft song of A Silent Voice (Koe no Katachi) and with the sad violin music you close your eyes as you feel the sad song and let your body do its magic on ice.

Your routine ends, all the jumps are perfect and all the spins are gracious. You have to thank yourself for pushing your younger self to the limit in order to reach this point. But something is hollow in your heart, something is missing.

You end the routine and open your eyes, only to let a teardrop fall.

“That was good, your techniques are wonderful but where is the emotion?” your instructor asks as he skates next to you. You wipe the tear and look to your feet.

“I am sorry,” you mutter

“You do know just a great technique won’t help you right?” Taeyong Lee, your best choreographer and instructor sighs.

“Clear your head, you really look … I don’t know… you’re not like you. I will say you take a break today and tomorrow come back only if your heart is okay.” He dismisses you like that and you have your head down while entering the locker room.

“Hey (y/n)~ why the long face?” Sungchan taps your shoulder and goes shocked when he sees your hollow eyes.

“Oh Sungchan-ie,” you force a smile to your face.

“I miss Ten hyung,” Sungchan calmly says while taking out his practice gears from the locker.

You froze in track, oh so someone did miss Ten too. Ten hyung left you to pursue a dream he was chasing. He was offered a scholarship to train and be one of the professional hockey athlete in NEO University. Your parents of course sent him away, with all the proud and happy faces sending their first son to a prestigious school while you, you’re staying here with them alone living through cold nights.

“Can you stop hogging the dinner table, you won’t be going to the championship with that eating behaviour.” Your mother looks at you with disgust as she takes away your plate.

You wanted to complain, how could one let her own child starve, but here you are. Forced to count your calories intake for your upcoming championship. Well, you had to thank her she just wanted the best for you, but what she was doing was a bit over the line.

“Oh my, I was a figure skater myself, and let me tell you we skip dinner.” Your mother said as she cuts you an apple.

Your father always come home late, he has to work extra hours to pay for Ten’s extra living costs, while also supporting your school and athletic life. Mom was a figure skater back then, a great one, until she reached the age of stopping skating. She opened courses for beginner skaters, but she doesn’t want to teach you herself. Mainly because she said a younger trainer will know more than her. Weird? No its also because you don’t want to be tortured by her.

“Now, finish up the fruit and go study or do some more stretches.” She stood away from the table and preoccupied herself into other things.

You missed your old family, where four of you would sit around the table, eating joyfully over luscious or even simple dish. But now, you rarely have anyone to sit with even worse forced to eat just fruits.

“Yeah I also miss Ten.” You finally speak about the truth today to Sungchan.

“When is he coming back?” Sungchan asks you and he has already put on his hockey costume, you didn’t notice that! Taeyong was right why are you so out of your head today.

“He is trying to come home on my competition day.” You fiddle with your hand, suddenly feeling how cold your hands are. You shrug it off as the skating rink’s fault

“Cool, by the way the boys and I are going to grab some tteokbokki after practice, want to join?” he nicely invites you.

You want to go so bad, but imagine the calories and no even worse what will mother say if she saw you eat? But Sungchan has been trying his best to always look after you, especially after he said Ten personally pleaded for Sungchan to look after you.

“I’ll see, if mom is not able to pick me up yet, I can wait and probably join.” You try to make the tall guy smile, he is the sweetest person you have right now. Might as well hold on to him and not let him go, right? Luck was in his side, your mom cannot pick you up that early so you waited for the boys. Your eyes most of the time are focused to Sungchan’s tall figure, but still a glance or two on seeing Mark won’t hurt right? Apparently it hurts. A lot, even more as you think of how silly you looked like to Mark.

“Thank you for waiting,” Sungchan pinches your cheek first thing first after the team laughs along their way to the locker.

You shrug your shoulder “What else can I do?”

Sungchan notices the way your cheek feels different, “Yak why are your cheeks gone?” he quirks an eyebrow

You raise your brow, bewildered that you actually loss weight to that point, “Uh is it? No. you’re just imagining things.” You push him to change with the others and he joins them, but when you take a glance to your reflection you cannot disagree him.

“(y/n) you should eat!” Mark notices how you were quiet when they were shouting of what to order.

You jolt in surprise, “Ah yeah, don’t mind me, I will just order later, not that hungry now.” You smile to him.

“No way a person can stay sane after a skating class. You eat, don’t refuse.” Haechan suddenly speaks ending all of your thoughts. He ordered one for each and you just lose it, “I am in a diet!”

“Just one portion won’t hurt!” Haechan desperately puts his puppy eyes on for you.

“She can share with me, if that makes her more comfortable.” Sungchan calmly glances at you and raises his brow.

“She will share with me,” Sungchan speaks for you when you do not let out any rebuttal.

He understands, Sungchan is magical, in a way that you don’t have to speak your mind out loud, but he can grasp what you want to say. Words you speak in silence, within one look of an eye he understands. Does he secretly have the ability to read mind?

When the hot meal was served, the boys all quickly savour the hot food in front of them. They look super happy and you gasp when Sungchan hands you a fork with tteok in front of your lips.

“Eat up!” he smiles and that makes you finally open your mouth and eat the first yummy food in two months.

“I can eat by myself” you blush when the other members throw both of you a cheesy smile.

“Mark me too! Feed me too” Haechan attempted aegyo and that only earned him a smack from Jeno.

“It’s cute when (y/n) and Sungchan did it, but not you.” Jeno teases the couple and that make the team laughs, you cannot hold your laughter too and somehow laughing makes your shoulder feels lighter.

“You just finish two bars, please at least eat four for me…” Sungchan pleads when he finishes his half or more like three of a quarter. Yang yang is already eyeing your side of the plate, still full of fishcakes and tteoks.

“I am full,” you put your fork down but before you can say anything Mark already poke a fork on one of the red bars and offer it to your mouth “If you do not want to eat for you nor Sungchan, eat for me.” His hand is still hovering, and you glance to Haechan, who just sends you a nod of approval, “You don’t have to do this,” you sigh but take the fork instead.

“You eat, or we will do that one by one.” Said WInwin.

Your eyes pop open “It’s embarrassing! Okay I’ve had three! It’s enough… really… I beg you all, thanks.” You smile when they give up

The team separate way and Sungchan walks with you back home.

“Have you always been like this?” Sungchan asks as two of you walk under the moonlight.

You smile and he answers himself “No, you like tteokbokki. Is it because you still cannot move on?”

You smack your lips “I’ve moved on. Just can’t eat much because of the upcoming competition.”

Sungchan stops in track and looks at you deep into your soul “Mother?”

You force a smile “Aiya no way, how could a mother starve their children?! What will the world say?” you laugh out loud but Sungchan stays serious. He shakes his head and holds your hand tightly “Don’t laugh. It’s not funny.” He glances to your shaky hand in his bigger palm, “You were starved!”

You roll your eyes “Not starve. You exaggerated that one.” Though you secretly want to yell and ask him to just bring you foods everyday… but you know you’ll get embarrassed if people find out your mom did this to you.

“I just have to hold on for some months Sungchan, don’t worry.”

He gives up convincing you to eat more when you’re out with him, but he failed. And for once he wanted to turn back time and blamed himself for not forcing you to eat whenever he has the chance.

“You were too sick for practice” Sungchan worriedly sits on your side when you’re tying up your skates. His practice is always after yours, but for the last two months he had been coming to cheer you up on your practice and bring you small foods.

“I am not sick,” you chuckle and wipe a sweat that falls over your head.

“You’re having a cold sweat (y/n), this is not right.” He rummages his bag and takes out one piece of apple “Please,” he pushes his hand out to you and you shake your head “I can’t. I have to warm up, see you prince.” You lean in to kiss his cheek and his eyes twinkle for a moment but its soon gone when he sees your fragile poorly fed body slides on the ice rink.

Yes he has brought the relationship up by a notch with you 2 months ago. he’s been a wonderful supportive boyfriend and you would not change him for anyone, not even mark!

Sungchan knows you like his own little sister, he knows your behaviour and he knows how you hide your emotions well. What he doesn’t like is how you can perfectly lie into his face and sometimes he bought it. Like now, you lied about being okay but he can clearly see you looking super tired in the rink.

Sungchan leaves the benchmark and runs when he sees you stopping in the middle of your routine.

“You should eat.” He forces you a bar of chocolate when you reach the chair and finishes a glass of water. “Please eat for me.” He unwraps the bar and pushes it into your lips.

He did not let you eat half, he didn’t want to regret more. He’s been frustrated about your health and he wants to change it. Now it looks like you’re already affected by your mom’s unhealthy diet and he doesn’t want his girl to fall sick or even ruin her body with this kind of lifestyle.

When the bar is done, he offers you a sweet tea and you shake your head refusing his drink. He sighs “Come on, do I have to force this into your mouth?” he twists the bottle open and almost gulps down the drink and you quickly shake your head “I DON’T WANT.”

He quirks his brow “What? You think I’ll force this mouth to mouth? Sexy but nahh I’m not doing it here, there’s minors.” He wiggles his brow and you punch his shoulder.

“Is that all you got? Gosh (y/n) that punch is so weak. Eat more.” He teases you when you angrily grab the drink and gulps half of it.

You feel better, your sugar level is back to normal and you no longer feel cranky. Well, earlier you were cranky to your trainer and that must be because of this.

“Better now?” he asks when you lean into his shoulder. You nod “I was mad earlier, coach kept on telling me I made mistakes.”

Sungchan rubs your hair “Did you though?” You blush and fiddle with your skirt “Well I did. I am just too tired to repeat everything.” You lean your whole body into him and straighten your legs.

Sungchan grabs your hand and kisses the palm “Come on, your sugar level should be better now. Go nail the practice and I’ll bring you for a good dinner. We can have one cheat day right?” he winks and you laugh. Tempted so much by the dinner and feel fluttery because Sungchan can never stop surprising you with small cute romantic actions.

“I know your mom won’t be mad for one meal. I’ll be the one responsible if she is mad!” he sounds so sincere and you can’t hold back your laughter.

“I found myself a great man, didn’t I?” you pinch his cheek and he only kiss your hand “And I found myself a cute princess to take care of.”

Your mood is boosted and you get up from the chair “Watch me prepare for top three! Or Gold as mom said” you roll your eyes and ump down into the rink.

Sungchan stands on the side of the rink and gives you a thumbs up “I am aiming to see you enjoy ad express yourself on ice!”

Your heart softens at that, that was new! Everyone always encourage you for Gold or silver, or perfect performance.. but Jung Sungchan, the star who waits for you when you’re too engaged with the moon. The star in your dark night, the star of your heart, love of your life? He comes up with a new motivation. Not gold, not silver, not even bronze. He did not ask for a perfect performance, but for you, the love of his life, to enjoy and express yourself on ice.

You can’t wait to nail the rest of your practice and wait for his hockey lesson to finish. Well, you will have to kiss him for his encouraging words, thank him for a great dinner (though you did not know yet what you’ll be eating, but you know it’s gonna be great with him) and of course for reminding you the purpose of life. To enjoy and express yourself.

Your coach heard that too and he comes to whisper “So, I guess you did find the right one. Ready to start over and enjoy yourself?”

You nod and stare into Sungchan with stars in your eyes, “Ready.”

Epilogue

“WHEN I SAY ONE CHEAT DAY, I DON’T MEAN THIS.” You stare in horror at your boyfriend who brings you to an all you can eat restaurant.

He shrugs his shoulder “I am hungry, and you said I can choose.”

You shake your head “Not like this…”

He hugs your shoulder and drags you away from the restaurant “Even when I say dinner’s on me?” he brings you to watch the marbling meat a person is grilling next to the window.

You gulp “It’d be a waste.”

He giggles and ruffles your hair “Fine. We’ll keep this for your after performance. Now what do you want?”

You tighten your hug on his arm and smile “Tteokbokki sounds nice.”

Sungchan smirks “I knew it, you are weak for tteokbokki, that’s why I was super confused when you refuse to eat back then.”

You blush “Stop bringing that up.”

He giggles and bops your nose “Okay darling I’ll stop, anything to make you smile and be happy.”

“I love you Sungchan!”

“I love you most, (y/n)!”

fin.

tell me what do you think?? it’s happy ending right ;D

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ethereaiin · 3 years ago

Note

pspsps a2 waltzing would be pretty snazzy of you

features; you and a2

[au]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Ever since you were young your mother has always been strict, especially when it came to how you presented yourself. You were the daughter of the only grand duke in the kingdom and she thought it was imperative that you appear as perfect as your title suggested.

Being the sole heiress to the grand duchy held many benefits but forced just as many responsibilities onto you, which your mother oversaw with a keen eye. While you were given the best education in the country and excelled in various aspects of etiquette, there was only one subject you had trouble mastering.

Dancing.

You weren’t sure what it was about it that caused you so much trouble. You had the best instructors around, the top dancers handpicked by your meticulous mother, yet even they were still not enough to instill the precise movements of a basic waltz into your head. You couldn’t even count the number of hours you spent watching them elegantly sail across the ballroom floor, spinning and stepping in sync with the music before one of them offered their hand out for you to put all you saw into practice. Yet it would only end with you stepping on your instructor’s toes or dancing the wrong part altogether.

Your instructors never once told you what exactly you were doing wrong. They merely smiled lightly, shifting uncomfortably on their bruised toes as they spoke insincere assurances that you definitely improved from the previous session. But you knew it all to be lies. You danced nothing like them. Not as graceful, nor as nimble.

Compared to them, you were akin to a newborn fawn who just learned to use their legs. At this rate, there was no way you were going to be able to dance at your coming-of-age celebration without embarrassing yourself completely. Your mother would never let you see the light of day if you managed to step on the toes of your partner and you can’t even imagine the disappointment from your father.

You were the grand duke’s heir, after all, there was no room for mistakes. Even for something so minor as dancing. Already, you can imagine the face your mother would make when she witnesses your terrible dancing tomorrow during practice.

“She’s gonna kill me when she finds out.” You sighed as you sunk deeper in your seat, a plate of cookies placed before you alone with a steaming cup of tea. Many thoughts clouded you, many of them pertaining to your mother and some of them belonging to your beloved. “There’s no way I’m going to give him that promised dance. . .”

By him, you meant your unofficial fiance, Cirian Lacan. While you two were not yet formally engaged, you’ve been promised to each other since birth. It was an age-old agreement that had yet to be fulfilled due to the fact that both of your respective families had never produced children of opposite genders. Well, until now at least. You and Cirian were on great terms and you considered him to be a very precious childhood friend you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life with.

To say he was excited about your coming of age ceremony was an understatement. He had his own the year prior and was determined to be your first dance and you, being ignorant to the true difficulties of a simple waltz, wholeheartedly agreed. You wanted to make him happy but at this rate, you’d only give him several bruised toes and a terrible experience.

“My lady, you must sit up properly.”

Came the stern voice of your appointed personal maid and guard. You glanced up towards the left side of your chair where A2 stood, her face pulled into a small disapproving frown at your slumped form. Your lips formed a small pout, but you chose wisely to do as she said. You were a firsthand witness to her monster strength and you did not want to see what she would do if you refused.

Your maid was an odd person, one whose origins you were never fully informed of and was often shrouded in mystery. Your mother appointed her to you shortly after you were named heir to the duchy for ‘protection’ but the woman currently standing next to you looked as if she couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone wield a sword. She was tall and delicately lean, but under that maid’s dress, you weren’t sure if there was even an ounce of muscle to be seen. Not to mention her name. It was strange and sounded more like a pseudonym than anything else.

The only thing you had learned of her so far apart from her no-nonsense personality, was that she and two others like her were ‘gifts’ from the royal family. Your father would only relent that much to you and the other two that supposedly came along to your residence with her were nowhere to be seen.

“They are doing their work, my dear.” Your father said from his seat at his desk. His eyes never once lifted from the stack of papers in his hand to address you, yet you could still feel the warmth in his tone. This was how he displayed his affection and patience for you. Never once raising his voice in your presence or running you off when you so obviously intruded on his work. And then, under his breath, “Out of sight, out of mind.”

You never did understand what he meant by that and you were pretty sure you were never meant to hear it. Yet whatever the other two did, it was much more secretive than what A2 did for you. All you could do for now was hope that your father would explain more once you’re declared head of the family.

“A2, can’t you see I’m in a crisis right now?” You huffed, twisting yourself in your seat towards her and sitting in an even more improper fashion than you were moments before. Your new positioning seemed to noticeably peeve A2 who furrowed her brow. “If I can’t get this dance down, mother will kill me. . . and Ciri,” Your avert your gaze, your eyes softening as your mouth quivers into a frown. “oh I can’t even imagine what he’d do.”

“Cry, probably.” A2 remarks and you throw a light glare in her direction yet she shrugs it off with an indifferent bow of her head as if she were apologizing, but you knew she wasn’t. “I tell only the truth, my lady.”

As much as you wished to defend your fiance’s honor, you were well aware of his meek nature. A2 was right. He was more likely to cry if you ended up making your first public dance together a complete disaster. You only had one shot at this and if you failed, not only would you break the promise you had with Cirian but those nasty nobles who’d been attempting to gather as much dirt on you as possible would jump on this opportunity. They would use any flaw you had to their advantage, anything to keep you from getting the grand duchess title.

“There must be something I can do. . .” You nibbled at the nail of your thumb, a habit you accidentally picked up and one both A2 and your mother hated. While you were a normally composed person, the thought of your nearing coming-of-age ceremony and your lack of knowing a relatively simple dance seemed to have driven your nerves up the wall. “If I can’t dance, I should just avoid doing it shouldn’t I?”

Your gaze, which had fallen to the ground in thought, rose only to meet A2’s for approval. You wouldn’t say you and her were close, but the fact that she spent the most time with you out of all your servants, made her feel something akin to a friend. But with her, there was always a line in the sand she purposely drew. She never once made the effort to get closer to you and often discreetly blocked your advances from getting to know her. You respected her decision and despite her reluctance to open up, you still very much liked her.

She was pragmatic in nature and voiced her opinion often enough that you thought of her as honest. Her indifference towards you and the rest of the world was somewhat refreshing. Unlike other servants, she didn’t try currying favor with you and if there was a noble that bothered you for a little too long, she always made sure to tell them off in your stead. She didn’t care much for social standing and if she wasn’t the personal maid to the second most powerful family in the Leiden kingdom, you were sure she would have been hanged for how impartial she truly was with people. Her mouth would one day get her into trouble, you were sure of it.

When she gently smacked your hand away from your mouth, you could see the glint of resignation in her silver eyes. “Do you really want to learn that useless dance?”

“Hey,” You started, your hand settling back into your lap as you watched her move to stand right in front of you. “I won’t deny that dancing is useless. . . in fact, I couldn’t agree more.” You nodded to yourself with certainty and a satisfied smile. If only your mother and Cirian thought that way. You could be saved a hell of a lot of trouble.

“But this is what’s expected of me.” Your smile dropped at the thought of your father and all he had to sacrifice to get where he stood. “I really shouldn’t neglect this just because I hate it.”

“For a girl your age, you think too deeply.” You glanced up at her surprisingly soft tone. She presents her pale hand for you to take and you do so without much thought. Throughout the few years she’s been by your side, you definitely trusted her a little more than anyone else. “Being terrible at one thing won’t kill you, nor would it make your father think any less of you. No one expects you to be perfect, [name].”

She pulls you off towards the large open clearing of your room and it’s only when she has her hand on your waist that you realize what she’s doing. “While I can’t help you with much of anything in regards to your studies, this is something I can assist you in.”

Before you’re given the chance to process her earlier words or even the fact that she was helping you with dancing, she spins the two of you around; gliding effortlessly across the floor. With your hand caressed gently within her own. You stare at her with widened eyes. Everything about her in this moment had taken you by surprise, but you didn’t find yourself hating it.

A2 could be a kind person if given the chance and while most people had never minded how hard you exerted yourself to even resemble a bit of your father, she was the first person to ever realize the high expectations you set up for yourself. Your mother called your ambition and strive to be the makings of a true leader, but you sometimes found them to be nothing but burdensome. More than anything, you just wanted someone to tell you it was okay to mess up. Even just a little. Her sentiment warmed your heart in ways you could never truly convey into words.

So, with a cheerful grin, you swayed along with her. Though, your eyes stayed trained on your feet if only to avoid ruining the nice moment.

Dancing in silence may have seemed odd to an onlooker, but you swore you could hear the melodic beat in your head. You hummed along to the non-existent song, momentarily glancing up from your feet to meet A2’s curious stare with a grin. At first, you had trouble keeping up with her graceful steps, and more often than naught, you stepped on her toes. Each time, you apologized with reddened cheeks, yet she shrugged them off with a light smile and a shake of her head.

She was a much more diligent teacher than you initially expected. For every mistake, she told you exactly what you had done wrong and where you needed to improve. Yet, she was also so very patient. She went over countless parts of the dance, repeating the moves you had trouble on and never once expressing anger when you didn’t seem to get it.

This repeated for hours on end and well into the night before you finally called it quits. While you were exhausted with your chest heaving and small beads of sweat rolling down the side of your face, A2 looked as if she were not tired at all. You shambled over towards your bed, plopping down before looking to A2 who seemed to have read your mind and was fetching you a towel.

“Thank you,” You said with a sigh as you took the towel from her before patting the softened cloth against your cheek.

There was a few moments of silence between you that you used to compose yourself. Your heart settled into its normal steady rhythm and your exhaustion mellowed into fatigue. A2 stood in front of you, hands folded neatly at her waist and eyes lowered to give you some privacy.

“You’re very good at dancing.” You finally say as you drop the towel to your side. “When did you learn?”

“When you did,” A2 says as she lifts her eyes to meet your own. Within her silvery gaze, you can see obvious amusement. “I learned from watching you.”

A2 was always such a perfect maid. Doing everything to a tee and perfect in all aspects. You were unsurprised to hear she was a quick learner as well as a talented dancer. It was a shame her talents were held back by her class. If she were of noble lineage, you had no doubts that she would have given even the crown prince a run for his money.

Yet, there was something about her that was strayed from her normal indifference. You noticed it the most when the two of you were dancing. Her face looked so serene. With a ghost of a smile on her lips and eyes fluttered shut as she twirled you along to your hummed song. She was undeniably beautiful then and even someone so oblivious as yourself could see that.

You hummed at her reply, leaning back on your hands as you stared at her with a wide grin. "You like dancing, don't you?"

"It's. . . Okay." She says with a shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing special, really. I don't know why you nobles make such a big deal out of it."

"So then you wouldn't mind helping me out again, would you?" You offer your hand out for her to take and she does before pulling you off your bed. "You're a fine teacher. Better than those 'professionals' mother hired."

When you're up on your feet again, A2 attempts to let you go but you only tighten your grip on her hand. She looks at you, her brows high with a curious expression on her normally stoic features.

"Let's go another round, A2." You grin as you pull her towards the middle of your room once more. "There's a lot more I need to work on if I want to be perfect."

The woman behind you merely smiles, her pale cheeks tinged red as she nods to no one in particular. "As you wish, my lady."

#requests #finished requests #nier a2 #a2 #a2 x reader #x reader #reader insert fanfiction #nier automata #au

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dulce-pjm · 4 years ago

Text

under the table

word count: 3.8k

genre: fluff

summary: you’re doing great! 100% amazing. a-okay! alright, no you’re not. but what does everyone say is the perfect cure for a heart that never had the chance to be broken? game night, of course! but knowing you, there will always be complications.

You’re at peace.

When things are like this, the universe is in harmony. You’re tucked away from the rest of the world, cuddled up under a blanket next to the thing most important to you, a relaxed smile across your face. You think you could spend the rest of your life here, content and happy. Safe.

But you’ve never been particularly lucky.

“The fuck is a board game club?”

“It’s fun, I promise!” Mina looks you up and down as she stands in the doorway of your bedroom. You know how you look, sprawled on your soft comforter in sweats and a grease-stained t-shirt. Your laptop sits beside you, a trashy drama playing in the background, while your hands are occupied with your phone and a large bowl of popcorn.

“But I’m having fun now.” You gesture to your well-planned setup, grimacing when Mina turns the lights on. “Dude. Warning, please.” She sighs, stepping into the room with a stern look on her face. You can already feel your stubborn resolve slipping.

Mina shuts your laptop and moves it aside, plopping onto the bed next to you. She takes your non-butter-coated hand in hers.

“Y/N, I love you. But it’s Friday night. We haven’t gone out in a month. A month!” You glare, offended she’d bring up the subject.

“Because you know what happened last time!” Mina opens her mouth to argue, but shuts it quickly. This discussion always goes the same direction anyway.

“This won’t be like last time,” she reassures, taking the popcorn bowl from you, much to your dismay. “I promise. You like games! It’ll be fun and tonight we’re betting, so if you win you might even have some cash to take home.”

“But I’m so happy here.” You cuddle your pillow childishly, puffing out your bottom lip. Mina is not amused. She sighs, massaging her temples.

“I didn’t want to do this,” she begins. “But you owe me, remember?” You cock your head, no memory coming to mind. She sighs in exasperation. “You dragged me to that stupid dance class last semester! By the end I thought I was gonna puke!” You scoff.

“Oh, puh-lease, you were practically drooling over the instructor. He was so hot I forgot about the pain. Too bad he has a girlfriend now. I stalked him on Instagram.” Mina laughs, a light tinkling sound compared to your usual guffawing, abrasive and obnoxious.

“So… you’ll come?” You take a moment to think, despite already knowing your answer. You were too easy to guilt-trip, you knew. Too trusting, too. But Mina was right, you did owe her. You sigh.

“Fine. I’ll come.” Mina’s entire face lights up as she cheers and hurries to her feet. Your joints creak as you heave your limbs off of the bed while Mina begins babbling instructions your way.

You were rather talented at board games. And silly banter. You might even have a chance at walking away with the money. This will be fun, you assure yourself.

“...So, yeah. Just bring ten bucks. And maybe change first.” Her eyes take one last glance at your outfit in light disgust. “Be ready in half an hour?”

“Mhmm,” you groan, stumbling to your closet. You sniff one of your old sweaters and when no ungodly stench meets you, you shrug it on in place of your tee. Mina thanks you before trotting out of the room, taking away your snack with her.

This will be fun, this will be fun.

Or, at least it better be. You make a mental note that, if this goes south, you aren’t leaving this apartment for the next six months.

After sprucing up your appearance and coating yourself with cheap perfume, you approach the supposed ‘board game club meeting’ (how the hell did that get approved, anyway?) with a newfound sense of confidence. Your smile is beaming, your shoulders are back and unbothered, your skin glowing. Wait, doesn’t that phrase mean you’re pregnant? You can’t remember. Not that pregnancy is even a remote possibility for you anyway. What with you never leaving the apartment and all.

You trail after Mina as she weaves through the library halls, before slowing in front of a corner study room. You’re astounded she made it here so easily, you had no idea this was even here. To your knowledge, this wing of the library was reserved for storage and staff.

Just as you’re about to follow her through the door, she spins to face you.

“You know, I’ve been thinking and you know if you really don’t want to go-”

“Oh my god, we’re here already! Let’s just go in!” You smile at her teasingly while she blushes. Despite how it might look to outsiders, you and Mina care about each other deeply. You appreciate how considerate she is of you.

“Alrighty then!” She turns back around and throws open the door, drawing the greetings of everyone else in the room. Your eyes land on Mark, Mina’s boyfriend, who’s already shot to his feet and pulled Mina in for a kiss.

You barely have time to scan the rest of the crowd before Mark’s wrapped you up in a hug, ruffling your hair. He’d always been friendly, definitely a little much for you. But his affectionate ways are perfect for Mina.

“Hey! Didn’t expect to see you here.” He finally parts from you, allowing you room to breathe. You shrug sheepishly.

“Well, here I am.” Your hands fidget nervously at the belt loops of your jeans. “So expect to lose.” Mark laughs, wrapping an arm around Mina. You suppress the part of you that’s immensely jealous of their easy-going relationship. You’ve never been able to achieve quite the same thing. Your relationships rarely lasted longer than a few months, at best.

“I believe it. You always outplay me in Monopoly.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “But Yoongi might give you a run for your money.”

Your blood runs cold. Chills travel across your skin. A fire fueled by anger and embarrassment that had almost sputtered out over the past month is suddenly reignited, a blazing furnace beneath your face and chest.

“What?” Mina’s smile becomes strained while you stand there, face void of emotion despite the thunderstorm raging inside. Her voice lowers to a harsh whisper. “I thought you said he wasn’t coming!” Mark, oblivious to the brewing conflict, smiles happily.

“Yeah, but his work thing got canceled, so I told him there was still plenty of room.” Pride beams off of his face. At any other time, Mina would congratulate him for his efforts to be inclusive and encouraging to their mutual friend. But right now, she was starting to be as panicked as you were pissed.

Your mind is flooded with memories of fun conversation, casual flirting, and, ultimately, anxious nights spent staring at your phone screen, waiting for a very specific notification to appear. But it never did. You’re starting to see red.

“God, Mark, I told you about this!” Mina turns to you, eyes frantic. “You know, if you just want to go back home, that’s okay. I’ll go with you, we can watch dramas and eat pizza and-”

“It’s fine,” you spit through clenched teeth. You force your fists to relax, allow a gentle smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes to settle across your lips.

“A- Are you sure?” Mina touches your arm with concern, forcing you to tear your gaze away from a certain someone across the room. You shrug nonchalantly, forcing your smile to go wider.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Y/N, you seriously don’t-”

“It’s fine, Mina.” She immediately clamps her mouth shut, knowing your will is set in stone by the harsh tone of your voice. She nods vigorously and steps back into the arms of a very confused Mark.

“Okay, okay.” She puts up her hands defensively before smiling and facing the rest of the group. “Who’s ready to get started?” She’s met with cheers and smiles as Mark settles into a seat beside her and starts dealing cards, leaving one empty chair, across from Yoongi.

You slide into it, meeting his intense gaze as he looks up from his phone. Not that it surprises you, but he appears exactly the same. He’s fucking gorgeous. His features are soft, yet when he meets your eyes with that piercing gaze and unreadable expression, he becomes sharp and intimidating. His greyish-brown locks just barely sit above his dark, umber eyes, effortlessly tousled. Even his taste is good, his outfit composed of a leather jacket and vintage band t-shirt, topped with a single hoop earring.

God, he is so perfect. Was so perfect, until he’d ignited your unending anger.

“Hey,” you mutter, words coming off much more bitter than intended. Whatever. It’s how you feel, anyways.

“Hey,” he replies. “Been a while.” His eyes never leave yours.

“Sure has.” Your nostrils flare against your will. “You doing alright? Gone on any more blind dates?” Yoongi’s lips twist into a scowl.

“Can’t say I have. You were the one and only.” The staredown between you two could start wars. The negative energy you’re generating sends a chill down an unsuspecting Mark’s spine.

Your brooding is interrupted when a shiny, white sticker is passed in front of you.

“It’s a name tag!” Mina explains, looking between you two anxiously. “You can decorate it. It’s fun.” You internally roll your eyes at Mina’s not-so-sly attempt to break up your silent argument.

You grab a stray pen to scribble your name, but just as the ink begins to meet the sticker, fingers tighten around your wrist. With his free hand, Yoongi takes the sticker from you, bringing it to his side of the table.

“Let me do it. Your handwriting is shit.” You grimace. He isn’t wrong. You work to get your mind moving, you’re already behind in the insult-slinging. After a brief moment, Yoongi releases your wrist and snatches the pen from your fingertips, dipping his head to start writing.

“So are your dialing abilities.” Yoongi pauses, his eyes lifting, a poorly built facade of confusion masking what you’re sure is smug pride. The little shit.

“What?” he asks curiously, pen lowering.

“You heard me.” You cross your arms and lean back in your seat, as if daring him to challenge you. This asshole had the nerve to pretend he enjoyed your company despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, treat you to a nice date, not call you ever again, NOT EVER CALL YOU AGAIN, and then pretend he didn’t know what you were talking about? God, you’d really dodged a bullet there. Or, you would have. If Yoongi had picked up the damn phone and taken a shot in the first place.

After a few seconds, a smirk plays on his lips and he shakes his head, returning to the sticker.

“I see you and Yoongi are acquainted!” Mark comments, throwing an arm over your shoulder while blissfully unaware of the situation. Oh, to be pretty and ignorant. “He’s a monster at Risk, let me tell you. He could probably take over the world if he really wanted to. Most of the time, he’s the lucky guy walking away with the payout.” Yoongi shrugs, eyes still focused on the project before him.

“Or you guys just suck.” Mark laughs, the boisterous sound rattling from his chest.

“Either way, he’s the guy to beat.” You nod in understanding as a plan hatches in your mind. You rub your hands together, not unlike a cartoon villain. Your fixed smile becomes slightly crazed and Cheshire cat-like.

Interesting. Very interesting. So, if you were to, perhaps, theoretically, make some private bets and win this game night, Yoongi would be out a shit ton of money? Now that sounded like fun, Mina be damned. Screw closure and moving on, revenge is much more gratifying.

When Yoongi finishes your nametag, you slap it on your sweater without so much as a glance, oblivious to the way his face falls.

If it took every fiber of your being, you were going to beat Yoongi’s ass, steal his money, and never ever see him again.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Fuck!

How was it possible for somebody to be good at Candyland?! The game’s pure goddamn luck. But here Yoongi was, having claimed victory for three out of the six games played so far (you claiming the other three) and being well on his way to winning the seventh and final game: Uno.

You, Yoongi, and Mina are down to three cards each, while Mark and the other participants are too caught up in rambunctious conversation to care that they’re losing terribly.

Mistakes have been made. You had egged Yoongi on into raising the bets between you two from ten to fifty dollars. And now you were fearing you’d lose. But your will was still strong, refusing to give up so easily. And where there was a will, there were Draw Four cards.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?” Yoongi groans, reaching to draw from the pile. But at the last second, his fingers flicker back to his hand, slapping his own Draw Four card onto the table. You sigh, banging your head against the table without an ounce of embarrassment or true anger. That time had long passed. Now you were just exasperated.

Mina cries out in protest, but having nothing to counter with, she begrudgingly draws eight, eliminating her from the close race between you and Yoongi, having two cards each. Yoongi smiles apologetically, making you laugh quietly to yourself.

When he wasn’t being an ass, Yoongi still made pleasant company. He was nice and sarcastic and introspective, never failing to add something new to the conversation. Despite your initial resolve, you’d found yourself opening up to him once again, obnoxiously cracking your own jokes and telling wild stories from your past experiences. Whenever Yoongi smiled or laughed at you, your heart soared. If only he had called you back, things could be different.

But they weren’t. This is a war now. A war you intend to win.

“What are you doing?” The question startles you from the goofy selfie you’re taking as you wait for the play to make its way around the table. You set down your phone, ignoring the way that, in the picture, your eyes are straight ahead, meeting Yoongi’s, rather than directed at the camera.

“Texting my nephew.” Yoongi cocks his head, brows furrowing. “He’s five and has a tablet for some godforsaken reason. We just send each other pictures of ourselves making stupid faces back and forth. It’s silly.” You don’t know why you’re suddenly sheepish, heat rising to your face. It’s probably the bad air conditioning in this place. Yoongi’s confused expression melts into a soft smile, making the furnace beneath your cheeks blaze hotter.

“Cute,” he murmurs.

“What?” He shrugs, taking a sip at his soda. Your eyes narrow. What kind of game is he playing? Does he think flirting with you will distract you from the mission at hand? Because if so, he’s an absolute idiot.

“You’re an idiot!” you’re yelling just a few minutes later. Yoongi’s practically cackling from across the table, clutching his middle with one hand, the other holding just one card. You still had two, but no matter. It’s pretty unlikely he’ll be able to play his hand anyway. “The cookie is the backbone of the entire Oreo! Without it, the whole experience is ruined! Don’t disregard it so easily.” Yoongi only snickers more, his gums peeking out from behind his massive smile. He’s enjoying the way you get riled up so easily, how quickly he can get under your skin with the most meaningless of words.

“It doesn’t even taste good, Y/N. The least they could do is make it taste like sugar, since that’s practically all an Oreo is.” You roll your eyes.

“That ruins the whole balance. The only thing you could possibly add to an Oreo to make it better is peanut butter.”

“Peanut butter?” Yoongi leans forward in interest and slight disgust. You nod assuredly, finding yourself leaning forward as well.

“Trust me, it’ll change your life.” Yoongi looks at you earnestly.

“I’m pretty sure it’s you that’s the life-changer.” Your eyebrows pop upward, jaw momentarily dipping open before you snap it shut. No. No. You’re not falling for this again. You scoff and fall back into the incredibly uncomfortable chair, which only makes Yoongi smile proudly.

“Y/N, it’s your turn.” Mark nudges you and you barely acknowledge him, slapping your blue four onto the pile easily.

Yoongi looks at you oddly, lolling his head to the side.

“What?” you snap, giving him your best glare.

“You’re done with your turn?” he asks, expression turning slightly concerned. God, he was such a fucking tease.

“Yes I’m done, you dipshit. Play your turn.” You glance at your phone screen, seeing several notifications from your nephew and a scolding text from your sister for encouraging his behavior.

Yoongi sighs, drawing his card when he can’t play. When you glance up, there’s a smirk on his face once again.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Yoongi’s smirk deepens.

“You didn’t say ‘Uno.’” You stare at Yoongi. He starts to snicker again.

“Fuck!” you shout, ignoring Mina’s many comments about ‘language!’ and ‘non-competitive dialogue!’ Yoongi laughs in your face, not even bothering to cover his mouth and try to spare you. You’re about to go ballistic, your fists clenched as Yoongi does the favor of drawing four for you, sliding them in front of you. God, you hate him.

In the end, neither of you wins. Some freshman with glasses you didn’t know took the victory, teasing his apparent girlfriend for losing. Who even let freshmen in here, anyway? The participants decide that the winnings will be divided between you and Yoongi, since you both won three games, and the mini-bet between the two of you becomes null, with neither of you able to fully stake your claim.

But you’re the one who’s really been defeated. You couldn’t even succeed in getting a second date with this guy, what made you think you could beat him in board games?

You give Yoongi a small, meek nod before standing to go. Mina left with Mark already after double and triple-checking that you were okay to walk home alone. You make for the door, open the handle as unexpected tears threaten to prick at your eyes.

You’re so pathetic. You’d let a fucking blind date get you so upset you’d barely left your apartment in the past month except to go to class. Could you really be faulted? You hadn’t had so much fun with someone in your entire life. You could feel the connection, the spark, between the two of you. You were certain this was the one that would last. So you took the leap, gave him your number, proposed a second date. But he never called you. Not once.

You’re unlikable. Unlovable. You don’t deserve to win game night, let alone to win at life or relationships or-

“Y/N, wait up.” Yoongi’s found his way next to you as you trudge out of the library, staring straight ahead.

Great.

“What is it, Yoongi?” You shoot him a dark look, only to find his ears tinged pink and his hand awkwardly scratching his scalp.

“Well, uh, I was thinking.” The sentence ends, thought hanging unfinished in the air.

“You were… thinking?” Yoongi jolts, like he’d forgotten you were here. His eyes never meet yours, contrary to his crude confidence from before.

“Yeah! And, um-” He sighs, taking a deep inhale through his nose. “I think we should use the money we won and go on a second date.”

What.

“What?” You’re openly gaping at him now. “Why?!”

“Because I really enjoyed our first date and I’d like another one.” You’re running out of air, sputtering on your breath.

“But- But you didn’t even call me! I asked you out and now you suddenly change your mind?” After an excruciating moment, Yoongi’s eyes meet yours, panicked rather than unreadable. The image is unsettling and unfamiliar. You’re starting to feel dizzy.

“Because you gave me a fake number!” You gawk at him in confusion. “Or that’s what I thought, until you were talking earlier and I put it all together.” He grins, seemingly finding his confidence again. “Your shitty handwriting made me misread your number. I almost thought it was on purpose until now, that you just wanted to get rid of me. But it was all a misunderstanding.”

The weight of his words settles on your shoulders, making your head spin. All a misunderstanding? All those stupid tears and endless nights over… a misunderstanding? You could laugh. You do, actually. The sound makes Yoongi jump as the two of you step outside, the night oddly warm despite the time nearly reaching midnight. A stupid, dopey grin spreads across your face.

Yoongi doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t think you’re stupid or unlikable. You’d done everything right, well, almost everything right. It’s humorous, really.

“So, uh… What do ya say? Tomorrow? Seven?” You smirk.

“Bold of you to assume I’m free.” Yoongi’s grinning too, enjoying the casual banter significantly more than the way his face grew flushed and he couldn’t seem to spit out what he wanted to say.

“Well, then cancel your plans.” His eyes flash wildly and you giggle childishly, taking delight in his antics. You nod, your cheeks beginning to ache.

“Tomorrow at seven.” Yoongi grins as you prepare to go your separate ways.

“Tomorrow at seven.” You spin and begin walking the other way, but not before Yoongi can call after you again.

“What?” You laugh, yelling at him from down the sidewalk, the streetlamps barely illuminating his figure.

“Check your nametag! And text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe!” You laugh again.

“I don’t even have your number, dipshit!” Yoongi sighs loudly, the sound echoing down the empty street.

“Just check the fucking nametag!”

“Fine, fine!” You giggle as you peel the sticker off your shirt. Your giggle intensifies when you see its contents.

Along with your name, Yoongi decided to draw a small picture that you could only assume was you, composed of an angry face, frazzled hair, and devil horns. And in the bottom right corner is a string of digits. You’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at the piece of paper. You tell yourself to find a safe place to keep it when you get home.

“Goodnight, Y/N!” he shouts, figure fading farther in the distance.

“Goodnight!”

You practically skip home, your body singing with adrenaline and joy.

You muse that your world might never be in balance or harmony, not in your lifetime, anyway.

But with you beside Yoongi, you thought it’d be pretty damn close.

#bts #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts fluff #yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #suga #bts suga #bts yoongi #bts x reader #fjdslkfsdl this took me too long #watching jk's live while editing this lmao #hope you enjoy!!

48 notes · View notes

pressedinthepages · 4 years ago

Text

Mysa

Swedish. verb. to engage in an activity that is comfortable and pleasurable, especially at home; being content and cozy.

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 2337

Rating: E

Masterlist

a/n: Reader Request: “Hey! Could you please write a oneshot, where the female reader is a talented healer but even after years she hasn't found a proper solution for her menstrual cramps and she get's so annoyed and desperate that she agrees to Jaskiers (who is a friend of her) suggestion to have sex with him (because he heard somewhere that that helps some people)? Where first she tries to just see it under a scientific issue but soon things get really hot and at the end fluffy? :3″ (this has also been posted to AO3 but I don’t wanna link to an outside site cause of the whole thing with the tags…we’ll see what happens)

Tags: @whitewolfandthefox @havenoffandoms @MishaFaye @criminaly-supernatural (There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: smut, period sex, cramping, no graphic descriptions of blood.

You have reached the end of your rope, frustrated beyond belief, but Jaskier extends an offer to help you.

A fresh blanket of snow has settled over the town of Oxenfurt. A lit fireplace warms your little home in the residential wings of campus. You work as an instructor, teaching courses in alchemy and healing. You’ve even written several books on the topics, so you’d think that people would trust your opinion when you say that there is nothing that you can do.

“Are you sure that you’ve tried everything???” Jaskier’s voice rings through the air, walking towards where you are settled on the couch in front of the fire. You roll your eyes as he hands over a warm mug of chamomile tea, careful not to disturb the little pouch of raw beans placed low on your stomach. You’ve been in pain for two days now, your bleed has always been a source of horrible discomfort for you. You’ve been able to manage during those days, and have tried concocting countless mixtures to attempt to quell the pain. So far, however, nothing has proven effective.

You have also told Jaskier this several times already. You know he’s just trying to help, but it’s getting to be a bit much. He showed up at your door right at the beginning of winter, bashfully telling you that he was in search of a place to stay for the season. You happily welcomed him into your home, grateful to have an old friend keep you company for a while.

Now, Jaskier sits on the couch by your feet, the picture of relaxation. You’ve always held a bit of a candle for him, but you have long accepted that he only sees you as a friend. You adore his friendship, but in moments like this, you can’t help but wonder what could’ve been.

You watch the light from the fire dance across his features, licking tendrils of warmth down his neck and across his chest where a dusting of dark hair peeks from the open buttons of his chemise. The sleeves have been rolled up to his elbows, and his shoes have been kicked away in a corner. Even Jaskier’s hair seems relaxed, the chestnut locks gently disheveled as they fall over his forehead.

“You know,” he startles you out of your dream as you feel a cramp low in your stomach, as if someone had stuck their hand in your abdomen, grabbed a hold of your insides, and decided to give them a good squeeze, just for the fun of it. Jaskier notices the grimace of pain on your face and continues, his voice low and soothing, “There was a woman I once knew, lovely lady really, she had a similar problem and I actually ended up being able to help her!”

He looks over at you with a smile, boyish dimples in his cheeks, and his eyes shining like a clear sky on a summer day. You crook an eyebrow at him, skeptical to say the least. When you were at university together, Jaskier had never excelled at the sciences, his talents being more focused on the languages and arts. You were both miserable at maths, and would always end up sulking together after exams with a large bottle of wine.

“And how, pray tell, did you help?” you inquire, nudging the side of his leg with your foot. He looks over at you then, his bright blue eyes meeting yours as a blush climbs up his chest and settles on his cheeks.

“Ah-well, she had told me, uh, that she had, in the past, uh...had others, well other men-”

“Come on, Jask, spit it out already, I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” you cut off his stammering with a stern eye, sipping your tea as you wait.

Jaskier clears his throat, looking back at the fire as he murmurs, “She said that having sex, and reaching a climax, would help with the pain…”

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline, the tea scalding your throat as you quickly swallow. “Well,” you cough, “I actually hadn’t heard that one before.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, your mind racing. What was he implying? Are there any books on this? Who was this other woman, and why do you care?

“Did it work?” you whisper, barely audible over the crackle of the fire. Jaskier huffs out a smile, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, she said that it had helped immensely...besides, even if it hadn’t, she would’ve still enjoyed herself anyways.” Jaskier looks over at you now with a wink, his eyes glinting with mirth and hubris.

You gasp, mockingly astounded as you sit up, setting the mug of tea on the floor before you do. “Hmmm, the theory is intriguing...are you offering?”

Jaskier’s eyes widen, a small tremor in his voice as he speaks, “I would be happy to help you, if you wish.”

You bite your lip, mulling over your options. It’s not a difficult decision on your part, the voice in the back of your head screaming triumphantly as you hold out a slightly shaking hand to him. Jaskier looks down at your hand and back to you, seemingly making a decision in his head before placing his own hand in yours. He rises to a stand, pulling you with him as you leave the now cooled bag of beans on the couch.

“Shall we go to the bed, dear?” He whispers, gently pulling you back towards it. His hand is soft in yours, his fingers calloused from years of honing his craft. You both come to a stop at the edge of the bed, hesitating to take the next step.

“Are you sure about this Julian?” you ask, his true name slipping out from your lips. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this…”

Jaskier takes his free hand and brushes a stray piece of hair from your face. “Darling, I promise you that I only ever do things that please me, and this? This would please me more than anything.”

His words send a shiver down your spine as you feel a low ache in your core. Not a cramp, something deeper, sweeter, harder to ignore. He pulls you close, leaning his head down to yours as he closes his eyes. You close yours as well, meeting his lips as you rest your hand on his shoulder.

Jaskier’s lips are soft, a warm back and forth as you sink into his chest. He is a rock, steady against your rising sea. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears as you move your hand to thread in his hair, gripping his hand tighter with your other.

“Wait, wait,” you say, suddenly breaking away from the kiss. Jaskier has always worn his heart on his sleeve, but he looks truly open and vulnerable when you look at him. You move your hands up, feeling his heart pound against his chest under your fingers. His chemise is soft from years of wear, and he smells lightly of the rosemary soap that you keep by the tub.

“We should take these off,” you say as you tug at Jaskier’s shirt. He chuckles as he pulls back from you, lifting the chemise over his head. He then takes your hand and spins you around, his fingers working at the laces of your dress at the nape of your neck. You feel the fabric gradually loosen around your shoulders as he pushes it down, placing a hot trail of kisses over the newly exposed skin.

The dress puddles on the floor as Jaskier’s hands rove over your body, his chin resting on your shoulder as he admires your body. His touch leaves embers in its wake, up and down your hips and around your breasts as he kneads the tender flesh. He makes a small noise in your ear, something light but lined with wanting.

You turn back to him, your own hands traveling through the coarse hair on his chest. You feel him suck in a breath as they travel lower, swiftly undoing the laces on his trousers before he steps back and shucks them off. You take the opportunity to step out of your own underthings, along with the soiled rag that you use to protect your clothes, throwing them unceremoniously across the room.

You feel Jaskier’s eyes burn a trail over your form as he approaches you, placing his hands on your hips as he leans to whisper in your ear, “Lay down on the bed, love, let me take care of you.”

You do, resting on your elbows as you watch him settle over you. You can’t help but appreciate the art that has presented itself in front of you, shamelessly studying the planes of his body. Jaskier has always been lean, but seeing him bare like this exposes the strength that his clothes typically conceal. His shoulders are broad, arms lined with muscles built from years of traveling the continent with his lute in hand. His legs are much the same, long and sturdy as they straddle your own.

Now, you’ve never really been one for the arts. You tend to stumble over rhymes and prose, but by gods, just looking at Jaskier’s cock makes you want to write volumes of poetry. Jutting out from his hips in a hard line, with just the most delicious curve upwards, you can’t help when your hand moves to wrap around him.

He chokes a strangled gasp as your fingers circle his length, his hands tightening on your hips. You stroke him slowly, feeling the heavy throbbing as he starts to rut into your grip. You remove your hand and reach up, Jaskier whining as you bring him to lay atop of you. His weight encompasses you, secure but not suffocating as you feel him try to discreetly rock his hips where his cock now presses against your thigh.

“Jaskier,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair as you look into his eyes. They shine in the moonlight from the window, this corner of the room far enough away from the fireplace that the waves of fire only barely touch his figure. His eyes feel like they are staring into your soul, peeling back the layers that years of silent yearning have built up.

“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he kisses you deeply, moaning into your mouth as you shift your legs to wrap around his hips. You feel the tip of his cock tease your entrance, sparks flying under your skin with the slightest touch. He moves slowly, pressing into your core and stretching you as your back arches off the bed. This feels so much more than the other times you’ve been intimate, the typically dull ache now a roaring fire that burns with pleasure as he stills once he is fully inside of you.

You rake your nails down the length of his body, reaching to grab handfuls of his ass where he is sheathed in you. Jaskier gasps into your mouth, a dark growl that sends vibrations through your veins. You begin to rock your hips against him, insatiable in the face of such strong pleasure. You can feel your climax already building, quickly becoming an approaching tide that you can’t outrun.

“Ah, wait, wait love, or this will be over far too quickly, I won’t be able to last long like this,” Jaskier’s voice is husky as his lips brush against yours with every word. His hips start to thrust into yours despite his words, snapping quickly as he builds your pleasure even quicker.

“Good, I-I’ll not last long either, please, Jaskier,” you murmur against him, trying to pull him impossibly closer as he spears deep within you. You can feel him groan into your lips as his resolve snaps, animalistic as his thrusts turn sloppy. He presses against a spot deep in your core with each movement, causing you to cry out with every touch. His lips move to suck a mark into your neck as you fall over the precipice of pleasure, your vision whiting out as sparks fly behind our eyes.

Everything is so much more intense like this, everything is so much more sensitive and he is over you and in you and mindlessly rutting into you and you cry out into the void as your climax overtakes you. You instinctively curl up around Jaskier, but he holds you open with his body as his thrusts speed up and he suddenly stills inside of you. He bites down hard on your neck and moans your name as he finds his release, hot and thick as your walls flutter around him, coaxing every last bit of his pleasure from him.

You stay like this for what could be minutes or days, neither of you wanting to move from the aftermath of bliss. Although, now that you are able to think about it-

“You know what?” you say, pulling his gaze back to you. His eyes are a bit hazy, still coming down from the mind-shattering that orgasm brings, though he seems intent on listening to your words. “I think it worked.”

Jaskier smiles and it is like the sun is shining into the little room in the middle of winter, warming you through in his embrace. He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips as he pulls out of you, your body shuddering at the sudden emptiness. Jaskier reaches around him and sets your legs down onto the bed as he moves to rise, only stopping when you reach out a hand to him to stay.

“I just thought of something else that may be quite nice,” he purrs, his eyes glinting with something so distinctly Jaskier that it takes your breath away. When you hum in question, still not moving, he threads his fingers through yours and pulls you to sit up.

He leans down, his mouth right next to your ear as he whispers, low and dark, “how about a bath?”

#jaskier x reader #smut #fluff and smut #period sex #cramps #jaskier just wants to help #how nice of him

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