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subwaysurf45 · 4 years ago

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A Starry Night (pt. 1)

Summary: The first day of college didn’t go as planned. But who knew one bad high could cause a great friendship?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Reader

Warning: weed, drinking, angst, crying

Words: 4,517

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“As much as I love to study and work,” you huffed between lugging the last of all your clothes from a box onto your twin mattress, “I want to experience some things in my first year,” all the clothes were out of the box, the last one you needed to empty.

Natasha, your roommate, swung her legs off her desk chair, “I get it,” she flipped her red hair over her shoulder out of habit, “there were things you missed out on because of your parents, it’s normal.” Natasha had seen your parents turn from the fun ones to stricter than the Catholic Church in a matter or seconds. She’d been your friend since grade seven when you were put on the same intramural spike ball team by chance, you both ended up quitting and joining the STEM club. She was there before, during, and after the incident.

“I’ve drank before, you know that, but I’m saying I want to get fucked, I want to blackout and get a crazy hangover, y’know?” You stacked your shirts together and shoved them all in the tiny space in your closet.

“Not sure you wanna get a crazy hangover-”

“You get what I’m saying, I know about the headache and all that but I just want to party and finally be free,” Nat nodded and watched as you shoved your pants into the other drawer.

Today was the day you had moved into your dorm, making it your first day at college. Natasha moved in two days prior by luck of the draw, this whole time she was texting pictures of your very small place, it got tons of natural light to make it look bigger. The mattress pad you brought from home was still wrinkled and not fully puffed up but when you laid on it the original mattress it made it way better. Two twin beds and two desks with the chairs that can’t be tipped over, the rest was up to you. Nat had already put up a few posters and polaroids but you were still stuck on the necessities, it took longer than expected. Classes started in two days so this was technically ‘frosh-week’, but it was more ‘frosh-couple of days’ in your opinion. Nat had already been invited to a house party and she asked if you could tag along, the host didn’t know you but that said sure either way. You didn’t have party clothes because your mother went through everything you were bringing and took out the lace bra you bought along with anything that showed your stomach, Nat had good clothes, she knew that was going to happen and came prepared. You placed a few knick-knacks on your desk, a stress ball, and your laptop. Once the bathroom situation was sorted out you both decided to grab some well deserved coffees.

The café wasn’t too far away, with the sun out it felt nice to let it bounce off your skin. A plain grey hoodie from the thrift store and some biker shorts that were Nat’s were what you were sporting, it seemed most people did the same. Natasha liked to show her body and you were fine with that, you would love to as well. Her belly button piercing showed with every step of her walk and her hair was pulled back.

“You still drink that sweet coffee?” Nat giggled as she opened the door.

“No I don’t, I drink cold brew, thank you very much.” You punctuated the end of your sentence with a little smirk, in high school you only got caramel macchiatos while Nat got black coffee, she always bugged you about it and still did after you changed to cold brew in senior year.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” The, most likely, fourth year asked from behind the register.

“Medium cold brew with a splash of almond milk and a medium iced americano with two-”

“-three-”

“-Three shots of espresso, please,” Nat tapped herr card to the debit machine and headed over to the other side, “I think you’re addicted, babe,” you laughed as Nat tried to cover her face.

As the lady with the septum piercing was making both your drinks a guy walked up to Nat, “hey, Nat, what’s going on?” his voice was quite deep, he was also built like a greek god. The shiny blond hair and the perfect blue eyes had Nat’s mouth watering, his muscles seemed to ripple under his fitted gym shirt.

“Jus’ gettin’ coffee,” she was drunk talking to him, when she snapped out of her dreamy state and remembered you were here she shook her head quickly, “this is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Steve Rogers, the host of the house party tonight.”

“Hi,” you smiled and stuck you hand out for a shake, “I hope I’m still cool to come even though I wasn’t invited,” you tried to play it off but that was for sure the dumbest thing you’ve said.

“The more the merrier,” Steve laughed, his teeth were perfect, “I got some of my buddies coming too, they’re bringing the drinks and most likely weed, hope that’s okay?” Steve turned to you. You knew Nat had smoked and drank before, when Steve turned to you it felt nice, like he was already checking in with you, he most likely did the same to Nat when she was first invited.

You were about to answer but your drinks were ready, as you turned to grab them Natasha started talking, “she’s good with that, we did it a few times in high school, but we aren’t avid smokers, per se,” with your back turned you could hear Nat’s blush spreading all the way to her ears. She wasn’t lying, you had smoked before but only took one drag before freaking out and going home to get scolded by your parents.

“No worries, trust me,” you turned back to them and Steve looked at you, “this isn’t high school shit, if you don’t want to drink or smoke, no one will get mad, we’re all here to find friends and have a good time,” shrugged his ripped shoulders, “plus,” he laughed before telling the joke, “the more weed for Bucky, the better.” you were supposed to understand that joke, but you’ve never met a ‘Bucky’ before.

As you both walked back to your dorm Natasha introduced you to a few other people and Sam, who lived with Steve and this Bucky guy. Sam was a real sweetheart, he complimented your hair and talked about his program. Engineering.

“Really?” You gasped.

“Ya,” Sam nonchalantly shrugged.

“You want to build plane engines?” Your jaw was still hung open and your eyes were still wide,

“that’s incredible!”

“My dad did it, I want to do it,” Sam pulled you both for a one armed hug, “I gotta go, see you tonight!” He called over his shoulder.

With an overly dramatic huff your back hit against your now fully puffed up mattress. You did a final organize of all your school supplies and had a small war against your bins when trying to get them under your bed. Small beads of sweat lined your forehead and your grey hoodie was darker under your arms, the little fan your mother had bought was doing a good job, not a great one. Nat was in and out of the room, sometimes she’d purposely knock over the things you just organized with a cackle but you’d both laugh it off. She’d be getting phone calls and text messages, part of you was worried she’d leave you for other friends but when Nat caught your eye she’d nod and send you their social media information. Even Sam, who you met just hours ago, had sent you a text during your organization moment, he said he wanted to get to know you and Nat more, he and Steve wanted to get you both in their friend group.

“What are you going to wear?” Nat turned around in the bathroom, her side leaning against the doorframe.

“I don't know,” you sighed, “my parents went through everything and took out my party clothes,” you sat up and gave her a knowing look.

“I’m guessing they said no drinking?” she gave a sympathetic look, Nat was the only one allowed to talk about that stuff.

“They said no partying, but they can’t control me,” Nat nodded with a wide smile, “and I know you said that during high school, but I feel it now,” the random burst of confidence rushed through you, you shot up and walked over to Nat’s closet, “give me something nice to wear, this is my first party ever and I need to impress these new guys.”

“But not too much, Steve is mine,” Nat laughed as she walked over, “here, try this.”

It was just a tank top, but full of shimmers. Not the cheap kind where they fall off, but the fabric itself was subtly sparkly. You’d wear black jeans, which were yours, with it because the top was the statement piece. It was time to get ready anyway, Nat was in the bathroom to start priming her face. You slipped on her pushup bra and threw the shirt over top, it fit nice. There was a very old and dusted full length mirror but it was enough to see just how good you looked, everything worked together, this was the moment you’ve been waiting for.

Until the phone rang.

“Oh shit!” You yelled as you saw the caller ID, “my mom can’t see me like this, what do I do?” You called to Nat who was unfazed in the bathroom.

“Don’t answer,” Nat shrugged, “you can’t bring your phone to the library and the book club is very, very formal…” that little smirk grew again, “right?”

In awe you just looked at her, “you can get out of it all, can’t you?” both of you began to laugh over the sound of that haunting ringtone. You crammed in the bathroom and Nat tapped your lips with some gloss, “thank you,” you squeeked, “I don’t want a ton, you know that.”

“Do I ever,” Nat giggled and kept doing her makeup while you watched the number of missed calls pile up, part of you wanted to answer but the other half knew they would win. You needed to be firm and let them know you weren’t a kid anymore, they couldn’t attach those strings and act like the puppeteer all the time. After one deep breath Nat walked out, “you can answer if you want, I’m not trying to get in your head and pull you the other way.”

“No,” you just watched it flash again and again, “it’s just…” you sighed and looked at her.

“I know,” she nodded.

“They care, they care a lot and sometimes it’s too much but-” you cut yourself off, not wanting to think about that, “they have a good reason, y’know? It’s not like they are strict for the fun of it,” you picked up your phone and silenced it, shoving it in your back pocket.

Nat wrapped an arm around your shoulder after making it outside in the crisp fall air, “you know you’re responsible, I know you’ll be overly responsible tonight,” She glanced at her phone for the address and took the turn, “but have some fun, you really deserve it.”

The party had already begun, it was dark in and out of the house but the outside didn’t have music or coloured lights all around. It wasn’t crammed like the movies from shoulder to shoulder but there were pockets of people standing and talking, they paid you both no mind. Nat kept your hand in hers as she navigated the hallway, looking back with a smile. When she made it to the backyard Steve, Sam, and another guy were sitting on the couch. There was a bong, rolled joints, beers- empty and full -as well as some water bottles.

“You made it!” Steve jumped up and walked over, Sam quickly followed. Hugs were passed out but the one other guy was still sitting, rolling another joint. As Sam applauded you for coming you couldn’t help but get distracted by the sound of a lighter starting up many times, you’d look over to see this guy leaned very close to the joint and looking concentrated; his tongue poked out between his lips.

Everyone sat down and you were last to find a spot, you ended up joining the mystery man on the two seater couch. The bounce when you sat down startled him out of his work, “oh, shit,” he looked up and giggled, “didn’t hear you guys walk in, welcome,” he turned to you, “we haven’t met, I’m Bucky.”

A calloused and dry hand met yours, “Y/N,” you spoke softly, eyes darting around to all the weed that would get you in so much trouble if your parents saw.

“Y/N,” he tested the sound, a smile growing, “very pretty.” he looked at you longer than normal before looking away to shake Nat’s hand. His hair fell perfectly down to the middle of his neck, it was wavy and beautifully brown. All you wanted was to see his teeth and that smile he kept casting towards you, it seemed to ignite something.

You felt swallowed by the couch but chose not to let it eat you whole, conversations were already starting and you were just sat there, looking around. Everyone’s voices were mixing together, a yell and loud laugh came fair and far between. It was calm to you, nothing like what your parents had said. Part of you always knew they over exaggerated drinking, parties, and drugs after what happened but you didn’t think they went too far over the top, but they did. No glass was breaking and no one was fighting, just peace. Your head slowly leaned back and rested on the top of the couch, the sun was fully down and the stars were out. There was less light pollution here, you could see stars for miles on end without any strain. There was a bounce but you thought nothing of it, until smoke started to get in the way of the stars. You looked over to see Bucky doing the same thing, head leaned back and looking up.

When he noticed you had looked over so he tilted his head to you, “what exactly are we looking for?” he whispered, there were still voices in the background that didn’t concern either of you. His knuckles lightly tapped your thigh, when you looked down you saw him holding a joint.

“I’ve never done it right before,” you whispered, not meeting his eyes. When he didn’t respond you looked up, he seemed to be fighting with something.

“You want me to teach you or do you want me to pass it on? It’s totally fine if you don’t want to smoke,” though you just met him you could tell he was being genuine, no smirking or laughing, just a real question to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

“Pass it on,” you muttered. Bucky gave a curt nod and leaned over you to sluggishly pass the joint to Sam, when he came back his head was closer to you and his thigh was touching yours. “Thanks,” you whispered, focusing on the stars.

He brought his hand and patted your thigh before dropping it back down to the couch, “don’t worry, no one will pressure you and that shit, it’s stupid,” Bucky looked over to you, you felt this urge to look at him, “do you want to at some point?”

“I think so,” you nodded.

“Cool,” his face lit up a bit, “just tell me and I’ll show you, it won’t be weird or embarrassing, I’ve taught Steve,” Bucky laughed and sat up, you followed, “isn’t that right Steve?” Bucky cut through his and Nat’s conversation.

It seemed to be the shit eating grin Bucky was giving Steve because he understood, “Bucky, I swear, you didn’t teach me,” Net perked up, Steve just rolled his eyes.

Bucky turned to you, “I caught this punk watching a youtube video on how to smoke, he stole my pre rolled joints and everything,” Steve was pink and covering his face, Nat was laughing. You just giggled and nodded along, “I find it very nice when someone asks to learn, in my opinion.”

You were in the conversation, talking with everyone. You and Nat shared some embarrassing stories and it was then that you were reminded of how strong your bond was with the red head. Natasha knew all the stories about you, she was there that day in court. Not once did she edge a story but pull away or even give a snarky look, silently saying ‘I have dirt on you’. She told stories about the time where you got hit in the face three times with only seconds between during dodgeball or when you threw up right before your band performance, you ended up playing your flute with a little left over on your lip. You spilled a few things to Steve, noticing the brewing chemistry between them. Natasha graduated after getting into a fight with another girl over nothing, she lost a nail so when she held her diploma she did it strategically. Or when she was score keeping the football game and a player was running her way, when she realized the player would run into her and the scorekeeper’s table she got up and ran away, leaving the football team’s head coach’s laptop to get absolutely wrecked.

Near the end of the story time Bucky had passed the joint to you, asking again if you wanted to try. You’d become loose, you had a few beers. You said yes. Bucky was very happy, running inside to get one of his many lighters.

“A gift,” he laughed, he was very high, “let’s go,” he talked you through it. In the middle of your exhale you began to cough, everyone giggled and so did you but Bucky laughed his way through patting your back. “Don’t worry,” his eyes barely open, “it happens.”

It came over you fast but smoothly, you were definitely high. While Bucky was telling stories about getting boners during his high school presentations you were laughing along with hooded eyes, your giggles would come out of nowhere but erupt into laughter. Bucky, who was higher than you, would laugh as well for no real reason. Nat looked at you a few times, silently checking in with a subtle thumbs up, you bit your bottom lip and nodded. Nat was a drinker rather than a smoker and even then you could hardly tell when she was drunk, she was able to sober up when taking care of you.

You pulled out your phone to check the time but wasn’t expecting the full brightness, it took a second before you realized you had over a hundred missed calls and you had been at this party for three hours. It was a little past two in the morning. Bucky looked over to see where the brightness was coming from and managed to get a glimpse of the number of missed calls and the most recent text in your family group chat that read: we aren’t doing this again.

“You should call them back,” Bucky said normally, a volume where everyone could hear him.

“Who?” Sam leaned over. You turned off your phone and brought it up to your chest, “come on, who?” Sam sntached the phone out of your hands. He turned it on and saw everything. “Someone’s in trouble!” he sang like a child.

“Give it back,” the world was spinning while you reached for it, making you miss.

A more stern voice cut in, “give it back,” Nat said harshly, no trace of alcohol on her tongue.

Bucky leaned over to Sam and took the phone, “we should call them,” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows, “tell them that their daughter is higher than a kite,” Bucky turned on the phone again and was met by a call coming from your parents. His eyes quickly flashed to you, they were bug eyed and full of pure terror, “...or not…” he sounded like he was asking a question. The phone was still ringing and your breathing got faster, Nat came over and sat beside you. Your hand was flush against your chest as you began to rock back and forth, “what is happening?” Bucky turned to face you, he sobered up as well.

“I don’t want to be high anymore,” you whispered. Your vision was tunneling and all you could picture was the incident. The flashing lights and your family, the courthouse and the lawyers, the papers and the therapists, all of it. Little whimpers came with your gasps for air, your legs were slowly curling into you while your arms crossed over your chest. The ringing in your ears sounded soft but it was completely blocking the sound of Bucky and Nat trying to talk to you. Your eyes focused on the phone that began to call again, you’ve heard the ringtone so many times it was all you could hear even though it wasn’t actually breaking through the dull ringing.

Nat took your phone and put it behind her, your eyes didn’t move and were now looking at the little table that held the weed and drinks. Your hand reached to your left and gripped Natasha’s shoulder, she placed a hand over yours as well. Though it was fuzzy Steve and Sam ran inside, you didn’t know what they were doing. The table turned into Bucky’s face instantly, he was crouching in front of you, both hands on your legs as he looked up and met your eye line. You were looking through him, his face was fuzzy but you could faintly make out tear tracks running down his cheeks. The blurs came back and it must have been Steve and Sam, Bucky looked over his shoulder and then moved out of the way.

Cold water was shot in your face.

The fuzziness and the ringing went away but the rapid and shallow breaths stayed for a couple minutes. Bucky went back to where he was crouching and talked you down, “it’s alright, just keep breathing, you’re doing amazing, keep going,” his voice was soft and so light, you were almost able to tune out his sniffled, “I’m so sorry, that was probably so scary, shit, I’m sorry,” he whispered and rest his chin on your knees.

With one final shaky breath you were back, Nat kept rubbing your back. You looked around to see Steve standing, looking very concerned, with an empty glass of water and Sam with a towel, Nat looked extremely sad and was resting her head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered and stood up, Bucky stood with you, “that was so uncalled for, that shouldn't have happened, I don’t-”

“Nat told us that your parents are controlling and not to bring your parents up in conversation,” Steve cut you off, Bucky nodded and looked down to the ground, “we are terrible friends for that, I’m sorry.”

“F-friends?” you looked at Steve then Sam then Bucky, “we’re friends?” you were genuinely shocked.

“If we aren’t, I want to be now,” Sam let out a breathy laugh, “before all that when we were just talking, you and Nat were great,” he looked to the other boys for confirmation, “you’re really funny, and we can definitely forget what happened just now and if you ever want to talk we can be serious really quick, we’re not going to push you.”

“You guys are really laid back,” you looked at Bucky, “and it’s okay, I forgive you.”

“Thanks,” Bucky sniffed, “why don’t you guys stay over, I feel a pillow fort brewing…?” He leaned in with a smile, trying to sell you both on staying.

“I’d love that,” you linked arms with Bucky and walked inside, everyone was gone, “it gives a chance for Nat and Steve to cuddle,” you whispered to Bucky.

“Ladies and gentleman,” Sam jumped, “she’s back!”

The morning came soon, you ended up leaving the pillow fort and making your way to someone’s bedroom. It felt weird to sleep in someone’s bed but you slept over the covers so it wouldn’t be too weird. The ceiling was very boring but it seemed to be the best space for you to project images of last night on, it was flat and one colour so the blurry shapes seemed clearer. The internal battle to call your parents had been fighting within you for a while, your phone sat plugged in on the bedside table. The missed call was still present on your screen.

With less than one ring your mom picked up, “-fuck were you thinking? You almost killed us! We were so worried and you thought it was just ok to not call us, did you not see our calls?” you weren’t on speaker but you could hear her voice loud and clear from your phone sitting on your lap.

“I joined a book club, no phones in the library,” your voice slurred from lack of sleep.

The call lasted a total of five minutes, you didn’t talk at all. You were reminded of what happens when drinking is involved, how that can change a family. They went into detail about everything, it ended up making you cry. You were done with hearing and talking about what happened as well as getting blamed, it wasn’t your fault, even lawyers told you so. But it still hurt whenever it was brought up. When you got the chance to hang up, you took it.

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door, “yeah?” Your voice sounded sad, it was obvious.

The door opened to show Bucky holding a croissant on a plate with an iced coffee, “hey, stranger,” he walked in, “I see you like my room the best?” He went to the bedside and placed the food there.

Your eyes went wide, “oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Don’t,” Bucky sat on the bed, right next to you, “I asked Nat for your coffee order, here you go.”

“Thanks,” you smiled.

It wasn’t hard for Bucky to pick up on you crying, he could see your eyes that were red and puffy as well as a unwiped tear track on your neck. You could see his sympathetic look even though he tried to hide it, most likely not wanting to come off as condescending. You shifted closer and he did the same, his hand coming up and rubbing your back. He was looking at you and you were looking at him, his eyes went from one feature to another, trying to find clues written on your skin to help him answer the question he’s had since your breakdown last night.

What the hell happened?

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ssaalexmiller · 3 years ago

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Lincoln High Pt. 2 of IWILWMT

Part 2 of I Was in Love with My Tutor!

The last few weeks of Alex’s senior year and the events of graduation.

not my gif.

May, 1987 in Kansas City, Missouri

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Y/N looked up to see Alex, who sat next to her and placed her lunch tray on the cafeteria table. It had been a month since the “tutoring” session and the two women had progressively gotten closer to each other. Of course, most of their time was spent with their respective friend groups, but during calculus they bonded and that was all they needed.

“Strange to see you here in the cafeteria,” Y/N answered. “No reading to be done today?”

Alex was usually out in the courtyard with her small friend group, or in the library reading her favourite book: Madame Bovary. Throughout the entire year, Y/N had only ever seen Alex eating lunch in the cafeteria twice prior to their current interaction, so it was understandable that Y/N was slightly confused. She silently hoped that Alex was here because she missed Y/N’s company, but she would never admit that out loud.

Alex took a bite out of a cold baby carrot, before answering, “Well, you haven’t been in calculus. I had to make sure that you’re not skipping school.”

It was a joke, which was evident by the playful look in Alex’s brown eyes.

Y/N hadn’t been in school for a week. Or technically, she had been, but her AP exams were taking up her time and after each exam was over, she was allowed to leave campus for the day. Finally, exam season was finished and the year would be closing out in two weeks—which she couldn’t wait for.

“How’d you do on your AP exams?”

“I think I did okay. I’m surprised you didn’t take any.”

Alex scoffed jokingly, “Are you kidding? I wanted my senior year to be easy. Honours courses are good enough for me this year. Plus, I wouldn’t have been able to put my AP scores on my college apps anyway.”

“It’s not like you need it, Miss Full ride to Berkeley.”

Alex smiled, before asking Y/N on details for how her exams went. If only Y/N knew that Alex had taken the exams during her junior year, and the only reason Alex asked for details was because Y/N’s voice made her day so much brighter. Both women were completely fixed on each other, rejecting all other voices in the loud cafeteria.

It was about halfway through lunch, when Y/N noticed someone watching them talk—or more likely, someone watching Alex talk. A boy, senior and wearing a Harvard sweater, stood up from his seat, and approached the two girls.

“Hey, Alex. Hi… uh—“

“Y/N,” Alex said. “Y/N, this is James—my boyfriend.”

“Oh, you’re Y/N? Alex has told me so much about you.”

Y/N nearly spit her water out, but didn’t. Instead she brushed it off--her mind focusing on the fact that James was Alex’s boyfriend and somehow missing the fact that Alex talked about her--and smiled at her crush’s partner.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Y/N lied right through her teeth. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. How long have you guys been dating?”

Y/N learned that Alex and James had been together for a few weeks, and they had just made it official during the week of AP exams. Y/N used all of her strength to not show how devastated she was that Alex was taken. She was very happy that Alex had found someone, especially someone who seemed as nice and smart as James, but she was… disappointed that it wasn’t her.

The rest of lunch flew by slowly, Y/N allowing Alex and James to lead the conversation about their first date, their plans for college, and a lot of other stuff that Y/N was trying to care about for the sake of Alex. When the bell rang, James ran off to his next class while Alex and Y/N walked to calculus together.

“I’m sorry if that got a little awkward. He’s incredibly social,” Alex apologized, giving Y/N a soft smile. “Do you like him? You guys seem like you’d get along.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s great. I’m really happy for you,” Y/N replied, which was honestly an instinctual response. She wasn’t exactly going to say, “Actually, I don’t think we’d get along because I’m literally madly in love with you.”

Alex felt an awkward energy take the place of the usually happy energy that she always felt around Y/N. It was like James flipped a switch, but Alex couldn’t figure out why it happened. Did Y/N have a problem with her talking about their friendship with James? Was she forcing Y/N into a third-wheel position? Did Y/N have a crush on James?

Alex knew that something was wrong when Y/N seemed incredibly exhausted when listening to their teacher talk. Usually, she was focused and listening, but now she was somewhere else. It was concerning.

The bell rang, and Alex pulled Y/N to the side of the hallway to talk.

“Are you okay? Why are you sad all of a sudden?” Alex asked softly, the concern in her voice making Y/N melt slightly.

“I’m okay. I think I’m just tired,” Y/N yawned, which nearly sold Alex on the lie—except for the fact that nearly two hours earlier she was just fine.

“Are you sure?”

Y/N nodded.

“Okay… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Alex reluctantly walked away, but one thought crossed her mind, and it was a thought she would never say out loud.

Graduation Day- June 1987

“Congratulations, Class of 1987!”

The auditorium was loud with cheering graduates and their families—but Alex wasn’t focused on that, or the graduation caps that were flying in the air. Instead, she was looking for someone in particular.

“Hey. Congratulations on vale.”

Alex turned to find James standing next to her, and he gave her a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks, handsome. Let’s see if you have a chance in college,” Alex teased, her salutatorian boyfriend rolling his eyes. “I’ll see you on Saturday, right?”

The seniors in their friend group were having a little graduation party at James’ family’s cabin as one last night together. There was no guarantee that they would all see each other together again, and that was exactly why Alex was looking for Y/N.

Y/N had been part of the decorating committee for graduation due to her position in her class council, which also meant she was in the clean up party as well. They hadn’t had a real chance to talk ever since the incident with James, and she wanted to mend their connection, which had gone fairly cold in the past few weeks. Alex didn’t know why, but she knew that she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t leave on a good note with Y/N. James gave her a kiss goodnight, before she stalked off to find her friend.

Alex sighed in relief when she found Y/N standing backstage, peaking through the stage curtains as if she was also looking for someone.

“There you are.”

Y/N jumped a little before feeling relieved to see Alex standing behind her.

“God, you scared me,” Y/N chuckled, her heart speeding up slightly due to the scare and Alex’s presence. “I was looking for you…”

Y/N looked at Alex, whose graduation gown was undone to show off the elegant white dress under it. The cap on her head rested on her wavy, dark auburn hair. The blue colour of the set somehow complemented the colour of her eyes. Y/N saw the gold cord resting around Alex’s shoulders, along with a silver stoll that read Valedictorian ’87. She was proud of Alex… very proud.

“Funny. I was looking for you, too,” Alex smiled, before sighing, “I’m sorry about the past few weeks. I… I wanted to find you so we wouldn’t end on a bad note.”

“Same here,” Y/N replied, unable to form any more words as Alex got closer. She was so beautiful and kind. James was lucky to have such a thoughtful, kind, beautiful, and intelligent woman.

Over the past few weeks, Y/N had come to terms with her feelings for Alex, realizing that it was probably never meant to be. Alex was going away to college in California, and Y/N had a year left of high school in Missouri—which would be followed by her collegiate years at NYU. By then, Alex and James would probably be living together and starting the rest of their lives. She didn’t want Alex to leave thinking she hated her—Alex was worth more than a shitty goodbye during their last math class together.

“It’s not your fault that I’ve been distant the past few weeks. I was just… I was just feeling a little down about some personal stuff,” Y/N said. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, and I’m really sorry that I made you feel anything but good.”

“Well, I’m sorry for not talking to you sooner. For someone pursuing linguistics, I’m god awful at communication sometimes,” Alex joked.

Y/N laughed, before reaching into her bag and pulling out a nicely wrapped present. It was in a matte purple box with a silver bow tied around it.

“I hope this makes a sufficient apology.”

Alex smiled, replying, “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Open it.”

Alex obeyed, opening the box to find a book—her favourite book. She had read it many times, but this edition was different. It was printed in the original French, which was something she had always wanted to analyze.

“You mentioned at the beginning of the year during your icebreaker that you wanted to study French, and I knew your favourite book was Madame Bovary, so I thought maybe it’d be a good present,” Y/N explained, before seeing the shocked look on Alex’s face. “Um, do you like it?”

Y/N nearly fell onto the floor with the amount of force that Alex used to leap into a hug. Y/N’s cheeks felt warm as she wrapped her arms around Alex’s neck, and she felt like she was nearly going to die when Alex squeezed her tighter.

“I love it… thank you.”

The hug lasted so long, but neither of them wanted to let go. It was maybe two minutes later that they finally pulled away, but they both still kept the smiles on their faces as if they were super-glued on.

Y/N was so happy to see Alex smile so contently—it was possibly the best thing that she had ever seen. God, she would give Alex a thousand more books just to see that smile every day.

“Here,” Alex said, twisting a sterling silver ring off of her hand and taking Y/N’s right hand, slipping it onto her ring finger. “Since you got me a gift, here is yours.”

Alex wished she had something better and nicer to giver—the ring was worth $10 at most, but Y/N appreciated it nonetheless.

“Well, thank you very much, Alex,” Y/N said, the smile on her face refusing to disappear. “I hope this isn’t goodbye.”

“I hope so too.”

Alex looked at her watch, before remembering that her family was waiting for her in the parking lot.

“I have to go… I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

Alex hugged Y/N one last time, before boldly placing a kiss on Y/N’s cheek.

“See you around, Alex…” Y/N replied, before watching Alex walk away.

Y/N fiddled with the new ring on her hand, which somehow fit perfectly, and smiled at the thought of Alex’s arms around her. She reached her hand up to touch her cheek, the ghost of Alex’s kiss lingering on her face, before taking a deep breath and grabbing the mop she needed to help clean up.

#alex blake x reader #criminal minds #iwilwmt

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ukrainenews · 3 years ago

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Daily Wrap Up July 18, 2022

Under the cut:

Russian forces shelled Toretsk in eastern Ukraine, killing six people

European Union foreign ministers agreed on Monday another 500 million euros ($504 million) of EU funding to supply arms to Ukraine

Russia's Gazprom has told customers in Europe it cannot guarantee gas supplies because of 'extraordinary' circumstances

Jill Biden will host Ukrainian first lady Olena Zelenska at the White House Tuesday afternoon

Ukrainian first lady Olena Zelenska will deliver remarks before the US Congress on Wednesday, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi's office announced Monday.

The United States will continue to provide intelligence to Ukraine after recent personnel changes in the inner circle of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy, the US state department said

“Russian forces shelled a town in eastern Ukraine on Monday, killing six people, Ukrainian officials have said.

Rescue workers in blue helmets were seen digging through debris and clearing rubble from a collapsed two-storey building in Toretsk in the industrial east after it was struck by Russian artillery early on Monday, Agence France-Press reports.

I had my windows open. There was a huge explosion around 5am - stones and dust,” local resident Nadia told AFP.

Emergency services said the bodies of five people had been recovered from the rubble, while a sixth, seriously wounded, had died in hospital.

According to reports, a residential building, school, kindergarten and medical college were also damaged.”-via The Guardian

“European Union foreign ministers agreed on Monday another 500 million euros ($504 million) of EU funding to supply arms to Ukraine, taking the bloc's security support to 2.5 billion euros since Russia invaded Ukraine on Feb. 24.

"Today at the EU foreign ministers meeting, a political agreement was reached on the fifth tranche of military assistance to Ukraine," Sweden's Foreign Minister Ann Linde said in a statement.

The money should help the EU continue to jointly buy equipment and supplies for the Ukrainian military, including lethal weaponry, which the bloc has said should be used for defensive purposes.

EU rules normally prevent the bloc from using its seven-year budget to fund military operations, but the so-called European Peace Facility, which has a limit of 5 billion euros, is off-budget and can be used to provide military aid.”-via Reuters

“Russia's Gazprom has told customers in Europe it cannot guarantee gas supplies because of 'extraordinary' circumstances, according to a letter seen by Reuters, upping the ante in an economic tit-for-tat with the West over Moscow's invasion of Ukraine.

The July 14 letter from the Russian state gas monopoly said it was retroactively declaring force majeure on supplies dating from June 14. The news comes as Nord Stream 1, the key pipeline delivering Russian gas to Germany and beyond, is undergoing annual maintenance meant to conclude on Thursday.

The letter added to Europe's fears that Moscow could keep the pipeline mothballed in retaliation for sanctions imposed on Russia over the war in Ukraine, heightening an energy crisis that risks tipping the region into recession.

Known as an 'act of God' clause, force majeure is standard in business contracts and spells out extreme circumstances that excuse a party from their legal obligations.

Russian gas supplies have been declining via major routes for some months, including via Ukraine and Belarus as well as through Nord Stream 1 under the Baltic Sea.

A trading source, asking not to be identified because of the sensitivity of the issue, said the force majeure concerned supplies through Nord Stream 1.

"This sounds like a first hint that the gas supplies via NS1 will possibly not resume after the 10-day maintenance has ended," said Hans van Cleef, senior energy economist at ABN Amro.

“Depending on what ‘extraordinary’ circumstances have in mind in order to declare the force majeure, and whether these issues are technical or more political, it could mean the next step in escalation between Russia and Europe/Germany," he added.

Uniper, Germany's biggest importer of Russian gas, was among the customers who said they had received a letter, and that it had formally rejected the claim as unjustified.”-via Reuters

“Jill Biden will host Ukrainian first lady Olena Zelenska at the White House Tuesday afternoon, according to a release from the East Wing. The two women are slated to talk privately during a scheduled bilateral meeting.

Biden and Zelenska first met in person in May when Biden made a stealth trip to Ukraine. The first ladies had been in communication prior to their meeting, which was the first time Zelenska emerged from hiding since the start of the Russian invasion in February.

During their one-hour closed meeting, Zelenska shared with Biden her concerns for the emotional health of Ukrainian children.

Zelenska is scheduled to arrive at the White House at 1:30 p.m. ET.”

-via CNN

Ukrainian first lady Olena Zelenska will deliver remarks before the US Congress on Wednesday, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi's office announced Monday.

All members of the House and Senate are invited to the speech, which is set for 11 a.m. ET in the Congressional Auditorium at the Capitol Visitor Center in Washington, DC.

-via CNN

“The United States will continue to provide intelligence to Ukraine after recent personnel changes in the inner circle of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy, the US state department said on Monday.

Zelenskiy removed from office the head of Ukraine’s security service and top prosecutor in Kyiv’s biggest internal purge of the war, citing the failure of the two to root out Russian spies.

State department spokesperson Ned Price told reporters in a news briefing:

“We are in daily contact with our Ukrainian partners ... We invest not in personalities, we invest in institutions.

We do have an intelligence-sharing relationship with our Ukrainian counterparts ... We continue to proceed ahead with that.”

More than 60 officials from Bakanov’s SBU security agency and the prosecutor’s office were working against Ukraine in Russian-occupied territory, and 651 treason and collaboration cases had been opened against law enforcement officials, Zelenskiy said earlier.”-via The Guardian

#Daily Update #Ukraine #Russia #War in Ukraine #US #Toretsk #EU #gazprom

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years ago

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Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

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

Word Count: 10,705

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll light candles.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, no, but –”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

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

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

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

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

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

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

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

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

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

“Well, I can only assume.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sabrina stared. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

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

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

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

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

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

“Whoa,” you breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

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

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

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

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

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was impossible.

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

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

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

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

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

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

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

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

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

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

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

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

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

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harleiquina · 2 years ago

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"May siblings be together, for that is the first law. May their union be true in anytime, because if they fight each other they'll be devoured by those outside" (José Hernández, "Martín Fierro").

So, today I found out that there was going to be a picket to support the WGA strike in my country (Argentina) and relatively close home. I wish I knew it sooner, I would've liked to join... but

I'm not a guild member (reason why I never received any kind of news about it) because...

Technically I'm not a writer (a professional, I mean. The ones that get paid to write) which leads me to...

I have a job that I hate and I can't just skip a random day because...

Even If they pay me very little, I am the breadwinner at home and every little cent counts... since...

My country's economy is a bloody mess that could be solved in over 50 years, if we are lucky.

So, here I am, making a post in solidarity to the Strike while waiting for the calls to start to ring. This might be a lenghty (and personal) one.

My journey into writing:

It was hard to answer the old question "what do you want to be when you grow up?" as a child because I wanted to be everything (except Doctor and Vet. I still don't like the idea of inflicting any kind of pain to heal someone -yes, I do know that anesthesia is a thing but it does wear off, did you know that? And painkillers too!).

At school I absolutely hated writing as homework, however I always ended up telling stories (my grandfather's folk tales) in the schoolbus for a limited audience. It wasn't until 7th grade that I realized that I was able to have original ideas and put them on paper... then I started to love writing and I would put my best effort into it. Yes, those were silly little stories usually prompted by whatever paragraph or sentence our teacher gave us (twice my aunts laughed at something I was proud of and I won't lie, it did hurt back then. Probably I would laugh now too). Still, coming up with something new was exciting.

In my senior year of Highschool I had "Applied writing" a subject that, supposedly, was there to teach us how to make our resumes, formal letters and other stuff that is "useful" in the work place or life itself. But that's not what I've learned.

I had Marcela Bullentini as my teacher. Someone that was quite scary with her desire for us to speak properly (eliminating the 'sh' sound from our bonaerense accent that changes words like "lluvia" -rain- to make it sound "shuvia", or our usual "perdón" -forgive me- instead of "lo siento" -I'm sorry- EVERYTIME she would answer with a mighty "only God forgives" to remind us that we were using the wrong term). After a few months of trying not to get on her bad side, I started to like her because I could tell that she loved writing and reading. And that's why she never gave us those boring lessons the other classroom's teacher (and school Principal, mind you) gave her students. She taught us the basics tools to write news, anecdotes, opinions and scripts for audio-drama (podcasts weren't a thing in 2009) and even TV (we did had to shoot a short film by the end of the year. Yes mine does suck). She is the reason why I considerated making a living out of writing. When the school year was coming to an end and it was time to enroll in College or the University and my classmates would ask "what are you going to study?" I answered them "I would like to be a Movie Director or Script writer". Guess what was their response... "Why?" usually followed by "that's too easy"

Too easy.

Too easy? How come? Why the Arts are "easy"? Why do you think that your dream of becoming a Sport's Journalist is better than mine wanting to tell stories? You'll still have to write something, you idiot!

Still, I did not followed my passion because making a living off the Arts is quite hard in here. You have to know someone who can "get you in" or beeing a professional boot-licker or work in the worst things ever, beeing completely stepped over and then you might ✨️MIGHT✨️ have a chance to do something true to yourself. And I wanted to be the argentinean Tim Burton, I knew nobody would've backed me up. So my aunt gave me an idea "why don't you try with Advertising? Many movie directors and writers began with Ads". So... off I went to Advertising School.

For those of you that don't know, Advertising is divided in 3 major branches: Accounting (the bridge between the Clients and the Agency), Media (the ones in charge of the budget and with the contacts to publish/play the ads everywhere) and Creativity (the ones that make the ads). I belong to the 3rd group and guess what? We're still thought off as an afterthought... as if making or writing for an ads campaing is something that is "easy", something that anybody can do. That we, the creatives, are just lazy people that every now and then receive a task, like anybody else would toss a bone to a dog, to "do something". To be fair, since I've never worked at an Agency I do not know if this kind of behaviour is present in them too... but all my classmates had this attitude and if they were meant to be the future of this profession, then I'm better off doing anything else but working as a Copywriter.

So here I am today, working as an Over the Phone Interpreter with over 20 stories locked in my head (and scribbled across many notepads and documents in my PC), too tired to write after work and trying not to sit on the computer on my free time because I spend the whole day, 5 days a week sitting in front of it. Still, sometimes I do get things done. My brain doesn't stop just because I have no time or because I'm tired. I know I'll get things done... eventually.

But Laurita, what does this have to do with anything?

This is my blog, I write what I want.

Context was needed.

As I said the whole "writing stories isn't serious enough" "it's too easy" "you can do something better" has been plaguing my life since day one. I was even able to see a glimpse of my favourite teacher's hopes and dreams for me crash in his eyes when I told him that I was studying to become an Advertising Creative. (I'm pretty sure all my teachers thought I would become one of them, or a doctor, or a lawyer, maybe even a scientist).

People!... Telling stories is important!

I dare to say that ours is the oldest profession (not the other one 😏) because whenever a lesson had to be taught, or something needed explanation, there was someone ready to tell a story about it.

Telling stories was never just entertainment. People seems to forget that even the silliest fairytale was meant to leave something behind with their audience. For ages my family and I wondered about the Magic Fish, a russian folckloric tale (a very lazy young man goes fishing in the ice for once in his life and catches the magic fish that promises that if he lets him go, he'll grant any wish he has. The guy ends up living in a palace made of gold and marrying a princess) and then it hit me: it was not the story itself... but the posibility of making many kids go fishing in the ice hoping to catch the Magical Fish that will grant them any wish. Well done, slavic people, well done 👏🏻👏🏻

I do not understand the constant dissmissal of our craft. Well... yes I do. People think it is easy because we make it easy for them. What's the point of creating something inaccessible? Why would anybody need to have a Post Doctorate in whatever field to understand a comic, a joke or a novel? We turn dozens (if not hundreds) of different concepts that fly through our minds into something understandable to anybody.

I watch Cinema Therapy where both hosts analize the psychology behind stories and characters. It is all in plain sight, we all know that Indiana Jones is resiliant, that Aragorn is a non-toxic man... but do you know how my family reacts when I tell them about any of their videos? "Isn't that reading too much into things? It's just a story, it's fantasy!"

It is a story, it is fantasy... but in order for it to work it has to be grounded in reality. Otherwise no-one would feel a thing for any of them!

And who does the dirty work? We do. We have to come up with real non-existent people so their fantastical escape is a good one. One that will make them forget their worries, one that might break their heart in a thousand pieces but carefully put it back with the warmest and stickyest-sweet glue you can find.

Oh! You know who killed the victim before the detective? That's because we feed you the clues so you can participate too.

Whenever my teammates in college had a "creativity attack" and started shooting ideas for ads, I'd step in to tell them why it would be impossible for us to use them (or at least why they didn't worked at all). They would get angry, of course, so I'd suggest them to do it themselves and what was their answer? "You do it, you are the creative one" So you make up your mind, buddy, either you trust me or not. You cannot have it both ways.

People doesn't realise the power that we hold, they think that we just come up with anything off of thin air. They ignore our investigations, how we observe the world and learn from it. They ignore our minds but get surprised even with the most obvious plot-twist (as it happened to mom, I told her something that was going to happen on her soap opera -so the bar was very low- and when it did happened she was like "how did you know?" I was tempted of answering with a "I'm a writer, I see what they are doing" but I just said "because it was obvious" If I actually tried to explain to her how I came up with that she would've thought that I needed help 😵‍💫). We accumulate knowledge like a dragon hoards gold. Anything is useful, anyone is useful. Don't make us turn you into a villan for our book or movie.

But still... we always get short-handed, stepped on, underappreciated.

We are the weirdos, the ones that live with their heads in the clouds, the "lazy" ones that spend their whole day on the computer "doing nothing" and can't close deals or use brute strenght to do their job. The ones that make up imaginary things hence things that have no value.

We know that it's not true. We know that we deserve better.

We had enough of that.

That's why we strike.

#wga strike #support the wga #writers supporting writers #writers strike #from Argentina with love #and possible tons of grammar errors #I'm sleepy OK? and I wanted to get it done today before the day ends

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mypoisonedvine · 5 years ago

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Tattletale | (dark)stepbrother!Sam Wilson x reader

summary: your step-brother was kind enough to let you stay at his apartment just off-campus when you began your freshman year of college where he was a senior. unfortunately, his kindness ran out when he learned about your secret side-hustle.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut!! (noncon/heavy dubcon and stepcest, they’re not biologically related but were raised from adolescence as siblings), facefucking, slapping, choking, degradation, coercion, DP (with a toy), anal play, possessive behavior, unprotected creampie, lots of crying/implied dacryphilia

this is a dark fic containing triggering topics, please do not read if this would be triggering for upsetting for you in any way.

Your step-brother (and roommate… and technically your landlord) wasn’t usually home when you got back from your Econ class, so you jumped a bit when you saw him nursing a beer in your shared living room; apparently, he was waiting for you.

“Hey, Sammy,” you greeted sheepishly, suddenly feeling self-conscious when his eyes raked over your body— it was hot out, so you just had on a tank top and cut-off shorts, but now you wish you’d covered up more.

“Hey,” he nodded back, setting the beer down and leaning back on the couch, “you got time to talk for a minute?”

His tone made you a little nervous, but his casual body language set you at ease. He probably just wanted to ask if you could stay somewhere else over the weekend so he could have a girl over, or maybe he needed your help with one of his more difficult assignments— though frankly, you probably couldn’t help much with a senior-level project. “Sure,” you shrugged, setting your backpack down and slipping off your shoes to join him on the couch. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really, I just feel like we don’t talk as much as we used to,” he explained with a little sigh. Something about the way he glanced to the side for a moment made you wonder if he was being completely transparent. “Remember when we were younger and we talked all the time? Or when I moved away to start here and we called every day? I miss that…”

You smiled a little, moving closer on the couch to rest your hand on his. “Me too,” you admitted. “I just figured you saw me as your annoying little sister.”

“I do,” he laughed, “but, you know, we used to be really close! You used to tell me everything. And now… now I don’t think you tell me everything.”

Your suspicion that this was more directed than he let on was growing, but you wanted to be close again, too, so you let it continue. “Well, we’re older now so it’s not quite the same…”

“I guess it’s normal for siblings to grow apart when they’re adults, but, I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t see it coming with us. And now that I’m letting you live here I thought it would be like old times; to be honest, that was part of why I had you move in in the first place.”

Just as you started to shift away, he flipped his hand and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away. “Sammy,” you whispered in shock, leaning back as much as you could even as he moved in closer.

“I think it’s the least you can do to be honest with me, sis,” he hissed.

“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, your gut sinking in fear of being reprimanded by him. He was so friendly 99% of the time, but you were still terrified of those few memories you had of him getting angry with you. Disappointing him was one of your greatest fears.

Sam laughed, but he didn’t exactly seem amused. “Stop playing dumb, honey, I think you know what this is about.”

“I… I don’t…” you stammered, your heart dropping further when he reached for his phone.

“Got a text from Steve today,” he explained as he unlocked it. “Wanna guess what it was?”

You swallowed dryly, more sure than ever that it was what you dreaded most. “I don’t know, Sam…”

“I’ll give you a hint,” he grimaced, reading something from the screen. “Kinky virgin horny for cock, 18, freshman at NYU.”

You looked away but he instantly grabbed your face and turned you to look at him. “You know, I let you live here while you were in college so you could get an education. Not be a fucking slut. Did you think I wouldn’t find your OnlyFans? Steve found it first, god knows what he did with these pictures before he sent them to me. Is this what you wanted? Any guy— even a guy we know— to get off to these pictures?”

Your shoulders slumped and your chest deflated as you started to cry. “I’m s-so sorry, Sammy—”

“Don’t call me that,” he sneered. “How stupid are you? Did you think these would stay private? Guys trade these all the time, they’re never secret for long. How long have you been doing this, huh? Must’ve been a while considering the sheer magnitude of content. Looks like your first post was on your 18th birthday— Jesus fucking Christ, you couldn’t wait a minute could you? I was there that day… when did you sneak off to take this little number, huh?”

You didn’t want to look as he turned the phone to you, but his hand tight around your wrist was a reminder not to struggle too hard. You remembered taking the photo, and it had been during your party. The idea of how wrong it would be to strip down in your parent’s bathroom to snap a picture in the mirror had only been more encouraging at the time. For some reason you hadn’t considered that someone would find it; you cringed at the idea that Steve saw you entirely nude, let alone your brother. It was humiliating.

“And what about this one, huh? How fucking slutty are you?” he spat, pulling up another picture and shoving the phone in your face as you were confronted with the image of you on your bed with your legs spread, fingers toying with your clit. “You really don’t leave anything to the imagination.”

“Sam, I didn’t— you weren’t supposed to—”

“Just stop talking. I can barely look at you right now,” he shook his head. “This stuff is seriously depraved, sis. The idea of all these guys drooling all over my little sister… and you actually encouraged them, the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tears poured down your face, and you felt like the anger radiating off of him would burn your skin somehow.

“And don’t give me some stupid fucking sob story about how you’re doing this to pay for school when I know damn well that mom and dad pay for your classes and I pay your fucking rent. You didn’t do it for money; you did it for fun. You did it ‘cause you’re a shameless fucking slut.”

“‘M not,” you denied, “Sam, really— I’m still a virgin, I don’t— you know I don’t do that.”

“You just fantasize about it. And chat with strangers online about it. And make videos going on and on about how bad you wanna get fucked.”

You shuddered as you realized: “You watched one of my videos?”

He grinned and pulled you closer. “Baby… I watched all of them.”

Completely at a loss for words, you silently tried to squirm away only for him to wrap his other arm around you and pull you closer, ignoring your sobs of fear and confusion.

“You’re actually sorta talented, for a dumb little virgin who had no idea what she’s getting herself into,” he purred against your ear, starting to push up your tank top.

“N-no,” you whimpered, “Sam, stop— I’m sorry. I’ll delete the account, I’m sorry.”

“Too late for apologies, little sis,” he cooed, “it’s not just the account. It’s that you made those posts from my apartment, you took those pictures in the room that I gave you. Not to mention the way you walk around in these tight clothes, teasing me just because you can. This goes way deeper than a few dirty pictures, sweetheart, and you know it.”

When you tried to wriggle away again, he seemed to exert nearly no effort at all to be able to spin you around and pull you down into his lap, where the shape of his hard cock pressing against your ass was obvious. “Sam, s-stop, this isn’t funny.”

“Damn right it isn’t funny, I’m dead fucking serious,” he growled against your ear. “What was it that you said in your most recent video, the one where you were wearing a collar and using that gaudy pink vibe on your clit? ‘I need your cock to ruin my hole, daddy’... am I remembering that right?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, and he laughed darkly against your ear as he pulled your hips into his.

“Say it, then. Like you said it in the video.”

“Sam, no—”

“No?” he repeated incredulously. “You can’t say no to me, honey. Cause if you do, I’m gonna send all these pictures and videos to mom and dad, tell them all about how their precious little angel is selling her ass on the Internet with the phone they pay for and the laptop they bought. What are they gonna say to that? Think they’ll take you back after that, let you stay with them when I kick you out? As if. So unless you think one of these creeps online is gonna give you a place to stay, seems like I’m your only option.”

You choked on a sob as you cried harder, hating that he was right.

“So you need to start doing what you’re told, or you’re gonna end up doing a lot worse with someone much less generous than me, got it?”

Terrified of him but unable to imagine the alternative, you nodded.

“Then. Fucking. Say it.”

“I…” you began, sounding weak and weepy compared to the original video you were quoting, “I need your cock… to ruin my hole… daddy.”

“Eh, needs improvement but it’s a start,” he shrugged, throwing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you. When you tried to protest, or at least turn around to face him, he slapped your ass harshly and it stung even through the denim shorts. “I have needs too, sis. Can’t hardly get any when you’re here all damn day being a fucking cockblock. And frankly, since you started dressing like this and acting like a whore, I haven’t even been able to think about anybody else… can’t get hard for anyone but my slutty little sister.”

He leaned down to press his body against yours, pinning you against the cool leather by your shoulders.

“Steve told me about your account weeks ago, babe… I’ve been getting off to your cute little pictures ever since.”

It made you wince, but it made him laugh. Shame and fear and disgust swirled in your gut and made you nauseous, his grip on you tight enough to leave a bruise as he dug his fingertips into your skin. When he sat back up, he started pulling at your jean shorts roughly, ripping them slightly as he shoved them down to your thighs.

“Wow, look at this pretty little ass,” he groaned. “A thousand guys have seen it, but it’s better in person.” He slapped you again on either cheek, hard enough to make you yelp. “What’s the matter, sis, I thought you liked being spanked? You talk about it all the time. You talk about how you want me to spank you raw and leave marks all over your body, hurt you and break you and claim you.”

“I— I wasn’t talking about you,” you defended, remembering how you always addressed the viewer when dirty talking in your videos, but keeping it generic enough that any guy could imagine it was him.

“Then who did you think about when you got off? Who was it that got you wet for your videos?” he pressed. “Because you’re wet right now… and I’m the only one here.”

You shook your head, you tried to speak to deny it, but words escaped you as he flipped you around and hovered above your face.

“Do you get wet for anybody, baby, is that it? Will you spread your legs for any cock? Or do you just have a special place in your cunt for your big brother?”

Your stunned silence earned you a slap to the face, sending your head spinning to the side as your cheek stung and burned. Just as the heat of the impact really started to get to you, he hit you on the other side, and again, until you finally gave him an answer: “You!” you yelped suddenly. “You, Sam, just you!”

He laughed a little, leaning down and capturing your lips in an unexpected, dominating kiss. It was awkward and sloppy, exactly the sort of kiss one would expect when it was forced; just as passionless and confused on your end as a kiss to your step-sibling should be. But he moaned against you and forced his tongue deeper into your mouth, hands coming down to grope your tits through your tank top and bra. Trying to push him away was beyond useless, and he slapped you again without even breaking his lips away from yours. Soon he was reaching to pull down your top— no, wait, he was tearing through it, and your bra snapped like a rubber band against his strength. When he grabbed your breasts again, without any clothing in the way this time, your nipples were hard and sensitive between his fingers; it was so obvious that he smiled into the kiss, biting your lip playfully. “Wow, you really do like this. Your step brother’s forcing himself on you and you’re such a whore that you’re actually into it.”

He slapped your breast, just hard enough to sting, and you cried out; he did it again and your back arched.

“Yeah, I knew you just needed to be put in your place, little sis. Just needed me to fix your attitude, that’s all.” He wrapped his hand around your neck, not squeezing enough to cut off airflow but obviously threatening it, before leaning down to whisper in your ear: “get on the ground, on your knees.”

Even for what was left of your virginal innocence, you knew what he wanted. Wordlessly, your only sounds the weak little sobs that shook your chest, you slipped out from beneath him and onto the floor by the couch. He shifted to sit in front of you with wide legs, thick thighs spread as he looked down at you with an expression of anticipation.

“Get on with it, honey, I know you know how. Seen you choke on your toys a thousand times.”

After taking a stabilizing breath to cope with what was happening, shivering from the cold air on your exposed upper half, you sat up slightly and reached for his belt. You’d felt it pressed against you before, but now you could see the shape of his cock threatening to burst out of his jeans, so thick and long that you were confident he heard the little gasp you let out. And yet, you knew you had to trek forward, so you began to unclasp his belt before unzipping his fly. He lifted his hips to help you pull his pants and boxers down, but other than that he was too busy stroking the side of your face with his fingers in a move much too delicate for the situation. You stopped breathing for a second when you saw the size of him, his cock bouncing up when you released it to slap against his stomach.

“Sam, I can’t,” you sighed, starting to back away, “I’ve never— it won’t fit.”

“Nah, baby, it’s okay,” he encouraged gently, pulling you closer, “you can take it just fine. Just open your mouth, sis…”

He guided the tip of his cock between your lips, still swollen from his bruising kiss, and you whimpered when you felt his warm skin against your tongue, tasting the salty pre-cum that leaked out slow and steady.

“Yeah, just like that, now go ahead and suck on me,” he instructed, groaning when you closed your lips and hollowed your cheeks, using your tongue to tease the slit like you’d read online was a good thing to do. He chuckled and bucked up into you, holding your head as he started to pump his hips and slowly fill your mouth to the brim. “See, you can do it— now choke on it.”

When he pushed in until you gagged, your first instinct was to push on his thighs and try to get away for air, but he held you down as he hissed through his teeth.

“I know you can take all of me in your throat if you just stop fucking fighting,” he hissed, slapping you one more time which caused your throat to open up in shock— and it was just enough for him to shove in deeper, groaning at the feeling. “Yeah, that’s it… fuck…” he sighed, moving his hips faster. The struggle for air made your eyes water (although you hadn’t really had much of a chance to stop crying in the first place) as your grip on his thighs tightened. “I bet your pussy is getting so wet for me right now,” he chuckled, “I bet you love choking on my cock, huh?”

You tried to shake your head but you couldn’t really move much; he pulled you off of his length by your hair, just in time to give you a much-needed sputtering gasp for air.

“Fuck, I’d love to fill that pretty throat with my come,” he smiled— a sinister sort of grin that made you shudder as you looked up with him, feeling spit and pre-cum on your lips and chin— “but I know what you want. Since you’ve spent all year begging to lose your virginity on the internet, I figure I’ll be nice and give you what you’ve been asking for.”

Before you could even begin to consider a response to that, he hoisted you up and threw you back onto the couch, spreading your legs as you looked away in shame.

“Yep, I was right, you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he laughed. “You nasty little slut, are you actually getting off on this? Wow.”

A renewed sense of ‘dear god this cannot happen’ shot through you as he leaned down and slid his cock over your folds, teasing your clit with his swollen head. “Sam, stop, please…”

“I’m kind of getting tired of you begging,” he hissed as he leaned down, glaring right into your eyes as you froze beneath him. “I’m obviously not going to stop,” he explained as his hand slipped around your throat, “you dumb fucking bitch.”

Your ability to fight back was taken with your opportunity to breathe, his strong fingers cutting off blood flow to your head quickly as he clamped down on your neck. Instantly you clawed at his hand, your vision starting to go a little spotty, and he laughed at you coldly before letting go. And when he finally did, his hand moved instead to hold both your wrists above your head while the other guided his cock into your pulsing entrance. When he pushed his hips forward, the air was punched from your lungs as your back arched, a sharp pain reverberating over your body from the stretch of him inside you.

“Fuck!” he groaned, pushing in deeper, slow but consistent. “You’re tight, baby, you really did need a cock to ruin this hole, huh? Fuck, ‘m gonna, just hold still…”

But how could you hold still, when every instinct had you moving your hips to try to push his cock out, your hands tightening into fists as they tried to fight against his strength. Of course, now that he was inside, he had a second arm to hold you down with, but the terrifying thing was that he really only needed the one. “Sam!” you sobbed, your own voice sounding foreign with the way it wavered and cracked.

“Yeah, baby, that’s me inside you,” he purred, “that’s your big brother’s cock tearing up this little pussy…”

When he roughly shoved the rest of himself inside, the tip of his cock found the end of you and your eyes shot open. He smiled down at you as he examined your face; twisted in pain, and glistening with tears turned greyish-black by your mascara.

“None of your toys ever went this deep in you before, huh? Poor thing, should’ve known you were all talk… you don’t even know how to take those big cocks you drool over. I can’t even imagine what you’ll be like when I put this in your ass.”

He cackled at the pure terror that danced over your expression, and the way your walls tightened around him briefly.

“Relax, sis, not today. I’m just sayin’, if you want me to keep my mouth shut to mom and dad, you’re gonna have to keep me happy. Lucky for you, I’m very happy right now, snug inside this sweet little cunt of yours…” he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your cheek and moving to suck on your ear, bite your neck, lick up and down over your pulse. He was waiting, you realized, for your body to relax so he could move inside you with less resistance. You were a little surprised he didn’t just jackhammer into you with no regard for your pain, but you had a feeling that part was coming soon anyways.

He reached down to pull your legs up, guiding them to wrap around his hips, and the new angle forced his cock a little deeper which made you squeal. The sound morphed into a stuttered moan, however, when he pulled back out of you slowly, savoring every detail of your walls as he sighed against your skin.

When he slammed back home, your nails dug into your own palms.

“Baby,” he whispered, “you’re close, aren’t you? Just from this. You always came so fast in your videos…”

Irritatingly, he was right; your walls were flexing as more slick coated his thick shaft, dripping down until you could hear the wetness whenever his hips slapped into yours. You couldn’t help it, considering how he pushed right into your g-spot with every stroke inside you, hitting every sensitive place harder and better than any toy ever had.

“See, baby? We were made for each other,” he cooed. “You were made to take this cock. You were meant to be my little fucktoy.”

You hated the way his words only added to your pleasure, pushing you right up to the edge— which his cock slamming all the way into you one last time finally sent you over.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped when he felt the force of your orgasm, smiling pridefully as your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the couch. “So sensitive, sweetheart, and so fucking wet for me…”

He fucked you faster and— somehow— deeper, chasing his own release with aggressive thrusts into you. Each of his low grunts against your ear sent shivers down your spine, your legs around him tightening to pull him closer.

Just as you thought he might find his rhythm for a while and maybe, if you were lucky, be finished with you soon, he pulled out quickly and patted your thigh. “Hands and knees, baby,” he instructed, watching you shakily turn around and lift yourself on weak arms. It was short-lived, though, as he pushed your face back down into the couch cushion, forcing your back into a dramatic arch that made you feel like your body was on display for him. As if that wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, you couldn’t even see him much anymore, which meant you had no idea what he was reaching for when he leaned back— but you heard what it was when he turned it on. “Oh, you recognize this?” he mused. “It was my favorite of everything I saw you use.”

He rubbed the vibrator over your folds slowly, chuckling a little when you jolted each time it brushed against your clit. You didn’t really understand why he would want to fuck you with a vibe when he seemed to have been enjoying doing it himself; but then he slid it up a little higher, to your other hole, and you gasped. “S-Sam,” you pleaded.

“I know you took it here before. I watched you do it. I even heard you the night you filmed it— these walls are thinner than you think, sis.”

Shame burned on your face as you imagined him listening to you put something up your ass for the first time, only for him to see the video the next morning when you uploaded it.

“Do you think it’s gonna feel different when I put it in while I fuck you?” he mused, pushing the vibrating tip of it into your hole. Thankfully it was pretty slender, so the stretch wasn’t bad, but the vibrations were strong enough that you could feel them everywhere, and you realized he would be able to feel them, too, while he was inside you. “You’re gonna be so fuckin’ full, sis, stuffed to the brim just like you wanted.”

He pushed the toy in deeper until your hands clutched at the sofa beneath you, which was apparently his cue to guide his cock back into your drenched pussy. Just as he promised, you felt so full that you had no idea how to cope with it, your legs shaking as you tried not to collapse beneath him.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, moving himself and the toy at alternating paces inside you as you mindlessly drooled onto the cushion, your overstimulated body barely able to handle the sensations he was forcing upon you. “You like being my little fucktoy, don’t you? You’re so pretty like this, so pretty being used just like you deserve.”

“Sammy, please,” you sobbed, barely intelligible as you couldn’t really string your thoughts together anymore.

“You want more, huh? Needy little slut,” he snarled, but the way he said it almost sounded like a compliment. It certainly made your heart swell as if it was. He fucked you faster, then, and pushed the vibrator as deep into your ass as it would go until you were sobbing and blubbering and basically just a complete mess beneath him. “Keep squeezin’ me so tight and I’m gonna come inside you, sweetheart,” he moaned.

Some part of your brain was still aware enough to know that that was not a good idea, but you didn’t even really think to tell him not to because you knew he would anyway. Finally, you had accepted that he was going to do whatever he wanted with you and your resistance only brought out his crueler side.

“Fuck, come again for me,” he demanded, “come on my cock while I come inside you— that’s it, cream on my fucking cock while I fill you up, slut.”

It was jarring, the way his words suddenly knocked you over the edge again as you cried out, fresh tears filling your eyes and joining the damp spot beneath your face on the couch. You felt both your holes clenching around the intrusions he had filled them with, your head going fuzzy and your limbs going numb from the intensity of your peak; waves of warmth washed over you as you slumped down a little bit, the distant sound of his praises just barely reaching your ringing ears.

His free hand held your hips tightly while the other kept pumping the vibrator into you, and even through all the overwhelming stimuli going on at the moment, you could feel his cock beginning to flex deep inside you. Each pump of his come painting the deepest parts of you coincided with a low moan from him, the sound so cruelly perfect and forcing your channel to clamp down on him, weakly, one last time.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned as he caught his breath, turning off the vibrator before slowly pulling it out of you and tossing it aside. He kept his cock inside for longer, though, as he rubbed your ass and back gently. “You’re gonna be such a good little fucktoy for me, sis, I just know it.”

He let you drop when he pulled out of you, your spent body limp and leaking on the couch as he stared down at you.

“I think you need a shower, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “But first, you need to give me the password to your OnlyFans so I can help you delete it, okay baby? We don’t need anybody else looking at what’s mine.”

#sam wilson smut #dark!sam wilson x reader #sam wilson dark fic

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anashins · 4 years ago

Text

No Talking in the Library || Taeyong

"Losing my virginity? Better say taking someone’s virginity. Triple check."

There are still so many things you want to do in your last semester before graduation, and Taeyong is willing to help you.

_______

Skinny dipping

Partying all night long

Drinking hard shots

Dancing on a bar counter

Playing spin the bottle

Getting completely drunk

Attend an illegal rave

Kiss s/o I just met

Ditch classes

You inhaled deeply and tucked the sheet back into your dress’s pocket and out of your sight, your thoughts revolving around the last point you’ve written again.

Losing my virginity

You were already a few months into your last year of university and yet you still felt like you hadn’t experienced everything a normal college kid should have once done in their young lives.

That you hadn’t really lived so far.

Looking at your friends, they had left you behind a long time ago in the first semester already when it came down to checking off bucket lists. It wasn’t like you were too shy or stayed away from parties and boys, though. The opportunity just had never arisen, and only now you realized that it probably never would if you wouldn’t take fate into your own hands.

You were sick and tired of waiting for the perfect moment and the perfect guy.

Looking at your watch, you realized it was nearly time for your next class and that you slowly had to get going.

Passing by different bookshelves, you were pondering whether to still search for lecture here in the library to read through the weekend in preparation for the project you had to work on the next week, but you quickly resisted the urge to do so as you had already collected enough and headed straight to the door.

“Watch out!” you still heard before the next thing you felt was pain crippling your face.

Only the break of a second was needed before numbness turned into pain and shot through your nerves that even reached the tips of your fingers with the root of the ache being your nose.

“Oh my god!” you squealed and brought your hands to the middle of your face while tears welled up behind your squinted eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” a male voice said, full with panic.

When you dared to open your lids, you looked into the eyes of the guy who had banged the entry door right into her face.

“You nearly killed me!”

“I’m so sorry, y/n!”

When he mentioned your name, you turned keen-eared. Blinking through your tears, you slowly started to get a sharper view of the boy in front of you as well. Just slightly taller than you, dark hair, and an expression as shocked as yours.

You just didn’t know his name anymore.

“Does it hurt that bad? Shall we go to the ward to get a cooling pad or something?”

You shook your head and slowly brought your hands down again. The guy had a hard time biting down the smile that threatened to slip off his lips. With care, he touched your arm in a comforting gesture to reassure you.

“I’m sorry, but you totally look like Rudolph the reindeer now.”

You sniffed. “Yes, thanks to you!”

“Okay, that’s true,” he admitted and retreated his hand. “How about I make it up to you, hm?”

“Uh…” You stared at him, yet you still weren’t able to classify his familiar face.

“Hey!” You suddenly got interrupted by the library’s supervisor, a middle-aged woman who was always wearing a frown and owned the hearing of a bat. “No talking in the library! Go inside or leave, but this door has to be closed, understand?”

You nodded, and the guy made a move to pass by the librarian, but not without whispering to you “Come here!” before you disappeared into the library again, the door closing shut behind you.

Having you by his arm, he dragged you along the rows of bookshelves until he found a quiet corner in the very far back of the library. All the while when you were looking at his back, you tried to remember where you knew him from.

And then it suddenly came into your mind.

When you opened the group convo with your friends, his face would appear right next to the unsaved contact that your friend Johnny had added two days prior.

It was Lee Taeyong.

Johnny, Ten, and Jaehyun’s new roommate who you had also met once before at Johnny’s birthday party last week.

“Hey, at least your nose is not red anymore, huh?” he laughed when he came to a hold.

“Banging a door into my face again, Taeyong?” you asked back. “I have to admit, this is kind of a weird way to hit on a girl.”

“You know my name! Admittedly, even just now I wasn’t so sure whether you remembered.”

“That was true, but once the pain vanished and I looked at your back, that scene seemed very familiar to me.”

He grinned. “Johnny’s birthday party, yes, I banged a door into your face back then as well. I’m sorry, I am actually a gentleman, I just didn’t have a chance to prove it yet. I hope this isn’t becoming our thing now.“

“You mean… you banging doors into my face? I hope not, because you actually seem like a nice guy, and otherwise I have to do a runner right now. I’d like to live a few years more.”

“My roommates wouldn’t like the thought that I scared their friend away, so let’s keep this a secret, alright?”

He winked and you laughed. You liked his humor very much and were wondering why you two hadn’t talked before at Johnny’s party.

„Oh, what’s this?“

Taeyong lifted his hand and picked up something white from the floor. He inspected his finding and then frowned. The next moment, he presented something to you that hadn’t been supposed to get seen by anyone else aside from you. The sheet. Apparently it had fallen out of your pocket while hurriedly walking!

You blushed up to her ears and snatched it out of his hand. “Don’t read this!”

He shrugged. “Well… it was quite hard not to miss the significant writing while picking it up, so…”

“Ugh…” You rolled your eyes into oblivion and wished for a hole to appear right under you to vanish in there right now.

You felt your ears burning and a hot flush running down your back as you remembered the last point you had written down. A stranger knowing about your virgin life! Embarrassing!!

“Do you… actually mean this?”

“Mean what?” you questioned with a shaky voice.

You hadn’t heard the slightest tone of mockery in his voice, you then noticed, and when you dared to look at him again, his gaze was even radiating curiosity, far from scorn.

“The points on this list.”

“Please don’t make fun of me!” you defended yourself. “You don’t know me or why I did this in the first place, so…”

You wanted to quickly pass by him and escape from the scenery, but he grabbed you by your arm and made you stop.

“What I know,” he then spoke, “is that you’re a kind and funny girl, apparently looking for the full college experience, am I right? I would never make fun of someone for that.”

“Okay… thank you. And I’d prefer if you won’t tell anyone about that.”

“That’s a given.”

“So… having checked off anything yet?“

You shook her head, suddenly feeling a weird knot in your stomach. “I just made this today. But now that someone knows about it, it’s probably ridiculous.”

“I don’t think that it’s ridiculous. You just want some fun, what’s so wrong about that?”

You hadn’t looked at this from another point of view, but now Taeyong was giving you his perspective. And he sounded so nonchalant and positive about it that you suddenly didn’t feel as exposed and embarrassed as before.

“You know what I think?” he then blurted out.

“What?” Now, you grew curious.

“I think you need someone to guide you through it, and many more experiences. Go hard or go home.” He grinned. “Someone who’s done all that already.”

“And you’re such a person?” you challenged.

“Let me see.”

Taeyong took the sheet from you again and read through the list. “Skinny dipping? Check. Partying all night long? Every weekend. Drinking hard shots? Also every weekend. Dancing on a bar counter? Double check, except for that one time I fell off. Playing spin the bottle? Boring, but check. Getting completely drunk? More checks than I can remember. Attend an illegal rave? Double check. Kiss someone I just met? I’m not counting this one anymore. Ditch classes? At least once a month. Losing my virginity? Better say taking someone’s virginity. Triple check.”

“Okay I understand!” You yanked the paper out of his hand again. “You probably had a few years to experience all this, and I only have the rest of my senior year left.”

“Why the rush?” Taeyong asked.

Reluctantly, you answered, “I’m leaving the country for my PhD.”

He nodded. “I see.”

Folding the sheet in your hands, you tucked it back into your pocket. “But please don’t tell the guys, I haven’t opened up to them about my future plans yet, but I want to tell them personally when the time is right.”

“Of course.” Taeyong paused. “Well, then what’s stopping you from joining a party with me tonight to get started?”

“The fact that I barely know you yet?”

“Hm, of course, you’ve got a point.” Taeyong pursed his lips and seemed to ponder over something. “Why haven’t we really talked before though at Johnny’s birthday party?”

“I really cannot remember what happened after you’ve banged the door into my face.” You chuckled. “I probably went to cry in the bathroom and then we’ve just lost sight of each other, because you haven’t found a weird sheet from me like today.”

“So… Since you only could remember me just now, we can technically say we’ve just met, right?”

“I’d sign that.”

“Great.”

You barely had time to wonder why he was grinning from ear to ear yet again when you felt Taeyong’s lips on yours the next moment.

They were soft and warm, his movements gentle at first, and he tasted so fresh and minty, and a little bit sweet as though he had drunk some fruit juice just before. Very summerly, and very manly.

His sudden kiss had left you speechless as well as motionless in the beginning, but you, now in high spirits, started to take pleasure in this act not long after his first move as you leaned against him and were welcomed with open arms.

Taeyong was a very handsome guy, there was nothing to deny about that fact, and he was a good kisser on top of that.

His hands made your body angle so that he could circle his arms around your waist and pressed you firmly against him. With your hands, you wandered upwards and sunk your fingers into his fluffy hair just in the moment Taeyong made you part your lips to deepen the kiss with his tongue.

Of course you had kissed boys before. Just because you were still a virgin didn’t mean you had never made out with someone.

But you had never made out with someone this good before.

Although you had gotten a door into your face shortly before, you weren’t so sure whether it was truly only the aftereffects of a possible head injury or Taeyong’s uninterrupted, passionate and oh-so-good kissing or both that got you feel so lightheaded and dizzy.

But what you knew was that you were enjoying that kiss very much.

And that you wanted more.

And Taeyong apparently as well as he proved it to you when his hands curved against your buttocks, and he gently shoved you backwards until your back rested against the wall behind you.

With his fingers, he felt the tender and glowing skin under your shirt’s bottom hem, massaging the spot there lightly as your hands simultaneously grabbed onto his shoulders and pulled him so close to you that no sheet would fit in the slit between you two anymore.

Secretly kissing in the library hadn’t been written down on your agenda, but you took whatever you could get to make your last semester a memorable one.

This was so fun to you that you started to think that this bucket list that you had made wasn’t that much of a bad idea after all if every single one of the experiences would leave you that excited as kissing Taeyong.

When you parted, he was still wearing that grin that now seemed more sweet than smug to you, and you joined him.

“Kiss someone you just met? Check.”

“Well, then our meeting here didn’t go to waste after all,” you concluded.

Admittedly, you wanted more. And by the way Taeyong looked at you, still so turned on and dreamy, he didn’t seem to loathe that idea as well.

“How about putting another point up that list?”

“Such as…?” You tilted your head.

“Making out with someone you’ve just met at a party?”

You playfully looked away as though you were in deep thoughts, but to you, the answer was clear the moment he had proposed the idea to you. “I think that’s an experience I shouldn’t miss as well.”

Just as Taeyong let out a relieved laughter and leaned in to you again, you heard a familiar,

“No talking in the library!”

In front of them stood the librarian with the worst timing ever.

“Technically, we weren’t talking,“ Taeyong cleared up cheekily as he withdrew from you, and you nodded in approval.

The librarian though looked confused.

The wink Taeyong shot into your direction was only visible for you, and you blushed faintly as you agreed, “Yeah, we were anything but talking.”

„But I heard you!“ the elderly woman scolded.

“Well, we did something much more fun than talking,” Taeyong explained, but before the librarian could chide more, you laughingly escaped to the outside.

„So about the party…“ he then started as the library’s door closed behind you. „Since we’re technically no strangers anymore…“

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. „Perhaps, I’ll come to the party.“

„And then move on to check off the other points?“ He smirked.

You stuck your tongue out at him, but were really looking forward to tonight.

#taeyong #lee taeyong #nct scenarios #nct imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong x reader #taeyong fluff #nct127 scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop x you #kpop x reader #nct taeyong #taeyong au #my writing #imagine

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