Friday passed quickly. Your dorm mates were excruciatingly quiet in the morning. They whispered amongst each other, looking from you to Minjee. Minjee, who was making her bed at the other end of the room, kept shooting you death glares. Last night had ended so abruptly, with Madame Hyejin walking in like that. Minjee’s comment about your age and experience had been left hanging, and you’d never gotten back at her since she’d slapped you. She didn’t have the upper hand, but, neither did you.
You tugged a pair of jeans and a sweater out of your trunk. Patience was a little difficult to have when the entire dorm was wondering if the two of you were about to burst and start arguing again. It didn’t help that you’d landed her with a punishment either. Still, if she hadn’t left a great red mark on your face then Madame Hyejin wouldn’t have been so harsh.
Speaking of the devil, Madame Hyejin appeared and started the usual dorm inspection, walking up and down ensuring everyone was tidy. When she was finished, she cleared her throat. “Miss (Surname) and Miss Gwan I have decided you will both be joining my conditioning class every morning for all of next week. You will also report to the kitchen staff after class on Monday. The rest of you, have a good day.”
Minjee looked at you sneeringly, and then strutted down the dorm room, flanked by Seohyun and Hyeun.
You rolled your eyes as she shoved past you. Conditioning and washing up, weren’t too bad.
The other girls left silently, though as soon as they got out the door they began whispering excitedly again.
Reaching the dining hall, another dilemma hit you. There was no way you could sit with anyone from your class. They were already sitting around the usual table. Seohyun was excitedly telling everyone what had happened last night, no doubt accentuating Minjee’s slap. Only Yuna and Kwangsik didn’t look amused. You certainly couldn’t sit there. You swallowed and went into the food line. What were you going to do? It was probably too obvious if you walked out to the toilets with a bowl of musli and a glass of apple juice…
“(Name)! Morning!” You turned around to face a grinning Dawon.
“Morning.” You looked at the bouncing pixie in front of you. Your mind suddenly taken away from depression. “Nice leo, by the way.” You nodded acknowledging at her. It was black and bright pink lycra with a matching skirt and fingerless gloves. She finished the ensemble off with black tights, and a pair of bright pink pointe shoes hung from her hands.
She grinned, and turned around to Seokjin, who stood behind her in the usually black and white uniform. “See, (Name) likes it!”
He sighed affectionately down at her. “Don’t blame me if I drop you with that damned slippery lycra.”
“Aww, you wouldn’t.” She curled her arms around his waist.
He gave her a peck on the lips. “Never, my little fairy.”
You blushed as they shared what was really quite an intimate moment. You wished you could have what Dawon and Seokjin had. She seemed like the happiest girl in the world as she stared up into his eyes.
“So, (Name).” Dawon said eventually, as you were serving yourself some fruit salad. “How are things?”
Your entire class against you, punishment from Madame Hyejin this afternoon and not being allowed to dance. “Bearable.”
She raised a dissatisfied eyebrow at you. “What’s wrong?”
You sighed. “Gwan Minjee and I had a bit of an argument last night.”
“That would explain why all your little friends are giggling right now.” She glared over at them. “Seriously, has that Kihyun guy’s voice even broken yet? He looks like, five.”
“What happened?” Seokjin asked, curiously.
“(Name)’s managed to piss off the bitch-establishment of the first years.”
He grinned at you. “Good job. It took Dawon at least three weeks to really stir them up.”
“Hey!” She exclaimed. “It didn’t take that long! Remember the scrunchie war on the first week?”
He laughed. “True, but that wasn’t single-handed.”
She made a face, then grabbed your wrist. “Come on, let’s go eat!”
You looked towards the table she was heading for. All their friends sat there, talking to, crap. No.
“I’ll see you later.” You said, trying to detach yourself from her hand.
“Nu-uh, you are so not becoming a social hermit!” She kept pulling along.
“Dawon.” She stopped as your voice became desperate and turned to face you. “What about Taeyeon? And…”
“Jimin?” She predicted. “(Name), I promise I won’t let Taeyeon scratch you and I will ensure that Jimin’s not too grumpy. ‘Kay?”
You grudgingly let her tug you along the rest of the way.
When reaching the table, you kept your eyes down, but you couldn’t help but see Jimin tense up, looking darkly at Dawon.
You nervously sat down. Kim Taehyung was on your left, Dawon on your right.
“Well if it isn’t little Miss (Name)!” Taehyung exclaimed. “Long time no see!”
You smiled at his warm welcoming. “Hey.”
“Why is she here?” Taeyeon snapped, looking you up and down distastefully with her long lashed eyes.
“Taeyeon.” Jimin muttered quietly.
“She’s our new addition.” Dawon said happily.
“She’s a first year.”
You felt like sinking into a hole. Taeyeon’s scrutiny was frightening.
“But she’s the same age as us.” Dawon folded her arms. Across the table, Jimin didn’t look surprised – he had the same irritated expression on his face. You guessed Madame Hyejin had already told him. You wondered what he thought of it. Maybe that you were even worse because you couldn’t dance at your own age level. You could hardly get angry about that – not when you thought it yourself.
Namjoon smiled. “Ahh, that explains a lot. I did wonder how a first year could be all wise looking like you. How’d you end up down in the duckling class?”
“I started late.” You shrugged. “Thirteen.”
“Wow! You must be pretty damn good then, since you getting into Amour.” Hoesok exclaimed. “Most of these guys have had to work since they were tiny just to get to this level. Four years though?” He looked extremely fascinated. “You must be a natural. I mean, Taeyeon, didn’t you start when you were three to get in here?”
“And with those private classes from Andre Blanc.” Dawon added.
Taeyeon’s nostrils flared as she glared at them. Then she turned her face to you, a malicious smile suddenly spreading across her face. “So (Name), did you enjoy spying on me and Chim yesterday?”
Oh God. Your gaze slipped to Jimin. Your eyes locked. Something channelled through your body. He was asking the same thing. Why had you been watching him? Why had you run away from him? Not talked to him? But there was something more in his eyes than just questions of privacy, there was curiosity. Like he wanted to know what you’d thought. Like he already knew why you’d been looking. Building your confidence, you raised your eyebrows and tore away from his gaze, looking back to Taeyeon. The surges of adrenalin still powered through your chest, making it hard to think reasonably.
“I could say the same for you.” You knew you were entering dangerous territory, but you kept going. “I’m surprised; I thought you were too cool to watch a mere first year. May I ask why?”
She glared at you. Very dangerous territory. “Your arabesque sucked.” She snapped. “And your pirouette was totally off.”
“Taeyeon.” Dawon warned, but you just smiled at her.
“And thirty-two fouettes really don’t fit in Moonlight Sonata.” You said back as politely as possible.
She raised her eyebrows, tightening her lips. “You’re just jealous because you’re not even close to dancing like I can.”
You shrugged. “Perhaps not, but I still think Moonlight Sonata has its own rules for choreography. Beethoven didn’t write it just so people could show off.”
Yoongi, who had been sitting and observing silently, let out a roar of laughter. “You are a lioness (Name)!”
You glanced at Jimin. He was looking down at his plate, trying to hide a grin. You didn’t particularly like getting a laugh at someone else’s expense, but well.
Taeyeon looked away irritated.
Dawon wisely decided to change the subject. “So I’ve heard about the guest list for the review.”
Jungkook shot forward to look at her. “Who?” He demanded excited.
Dawon grinned. “So far I think it’s the US Ballet Academy and those cute little ones from the Ballet Club in Wrystone.”
“Wait.” You said. “The US Ballet Academy’s coming?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“The reviews not just between classes, you know.” Jungkook spoke up, leaning back in his chair. “We invite them to show them how damn good we are.”
“Will anyone from the US company be coming?” Taeyeon inquired, distracted.
“The director of the Academy’s coming.” Dawon nodded. “He has serious connections.”
“Which is why we’re all blacklisted to get into the US company.” Yoongi mumbled. “They detest us.”
Taeyeon snorted. “I’m not, and neither is Chim.” She turned to him. “This is so perfect – they won’t even need to bother with an audition after they see us on Sunday.”
Jimin didn’t seem remotely excited. He just nodded, absentmindedly tracing the rim of his orange juice glass with his finger.
“Who else?” Jungkook pried.
Dawon thought for a second. “I think a few classes from JYP Ballet are coming too.”
“Bastards.” Yoongi muttered. For your benefit, he added. “Even worse than the damn US Academy is JYP. They’re always going on about how their contemporary is so much better than ours.”
You frowned. “So what? I didn’t think Amour even cared about modern.”
“We don’t.” Seokjin said. “But they still think it makes them better than us.”
“We should care.” Taeyeon muttered. “The US Ballet’s repertoire is half contemporary.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s good.” Dawon defended. “Some of their moves are just grotesque.”
“Anyway, JYP is pretty much our devout enemy.” Dawon said looking at you. “Even though some of the guys are dreamy hot.”
“Aw, thanks.” Seokjin scoffed, but he was grinning.
She fluttered her eyelashes. “Mm, you know you’re better.”
“Guys.” Hoseok chastised, looking sternly at his sister. “Not at the table.”
Dawon sniggered, still wrapped up in Seokjin’s arms. “And not doing it during warm ups?”
Jungkook and Taehyung looked horrified. “Or during the dress rehearsal for the Snowflake scene last year!” Taehyung sharply added
Jungkook folded his muscular arms. “Well I had no idea the King and the Angel made out at the end of the first act.”
You almost choked on your juice. “On stage?”
“Oh yes.” Taehyung wiggled his eyebrow. “Right as the curtain went down, there they were, bang centre stage kissing like – ”
Dawon reached over you to thwack him on the head. “Shut it, Tae, we don’t want (Name) getting the wrong idea.”
Taehyung laughed and turned to you. “Ah, who’s to say that (Name) doesn’t have secrets of her own. By the way, who’s your partner at the moment?”
“Dahn Eungkwan” You told him, biting your lip.
“That second year?” Dawon asked. “I don’t know. He’s kind of yummy, in a cold sort of way.”
“You might as well have some fun – Pas de Deux’s all about the closeness, you know.” Seokjin teased and wound his arm around Dawon’s waist.
Through the corner of your eye, you thought you saw Jimin’s finger halt on the rim of his glass. His hand was rigid, but then maybe you just wanted to see that.
You turned back to Seokjin. “I don’t think it’s possible with Eungkwan, he’s a little. Well, he has amazing technique.”
The finger relaxed, continuing on its course around the glass.
Seokjin, guffawed. “Yeah, you seriously need a new partner. Now, who’s available.”
Taeyeon abruptly stood up. “We should get to class.”
Dawon glanced at her phone clock. “Oh crap, yeah we should.”
You looked around. Most of the dining hall had emptied. Your normal table was cleared.
You said goodbye to your new found friends and headed for the library. Despite the tension with Jimin and Taeyeon, you felt warmth blossoming through you. You liked Dawon and Seokjin, who had told you to call him Jin. Taehyung and Hoseok was very friendly and they really seemed nice, not to mention bright and bubbly. Jungkook, Namjoon and Yoongi was more the reserved types, but soon enough they had warmed up, and began talking to you too.
You spent the rest of the day in the library. You sat at your usual table, writing out the choreography notes as Madame Choi had instructed. You glanced at the clock. Nine-Twenty. Your class would have found out by now about your new solo. You seriously doubted they would be happy with yet another change in the choreography. Your logical defence about your concussion was only valid because you hadn’t purposefully changed anything. Now they would know that you had deliberately gone to Madame Choi and asked her to use your new solo. Maybe it wasn’t the best for the class, okay honestly, it certainly wasn’t. But if Madame Choi thought it was possible, then surely there was some hope in it?
Walking into the dining hall took a lot of mental effort. You knew Madame Hyejin would be on your tail if you missed yet another meal – You’d missed dinner to go and see Madame Choi yesterday – But you didn’t want to know your class’s reaction.
Minjee and her friends sat around the usual table, leaning in and talking. When they saw you, though, they went quiet, staring at you with deadly glares. The confident part of you almost felt like laughing – they looked like sheep’s, all doing exactly the same thing in an attempt to seem oppressive. But the much larger, freaked out part of you shuddered. Things didn’t look good.
You went and sat with Dawon again. Jimin and Taeyeon weren’t there, but Taehyung, Jungkook and Hoseok managed to take your mind off the stares burning into your back with a series of ridiculous jokes and stories.
However lunch passed too quickly, and soon you were at the door to Ballet History. You couldn’t ditch again – You still weren’t a rebel, despite building a new reputation for bitch fights. You pushed open the door. Thankfully there wasn’t any teacher there yet, and everyone was sitting on their desks, chattering.
As soon as you walked in, everyone went quiet. They just stared at you.
So that was their game.
You pushed your hair over one shoulder and dumped your books on a desk at the back. Kwangsik was sitting at the desk next to you. He didn’t stare like everyone else – He just looked down at his books miserably. You swallowed. To have so many eyes on you, all threatening, angry, despising. It crushed you, too heavy to bear. Despite asking for yet another change in choreography, you didn’t deserve this. You let your hair be a curtain, trying to block out their penetrating gazes. It was horrible. Why couldn’t you stare back? Why couldn’t you be confident? You had been confident last night, against Minjee, and even an hour ago, in the dining hall, but this was your whole class. People who you’d never talked to. People who hardly knew you and yet they hated you. Tears prickled at the back of your eyes.
Strength. You had strength. You were going to be okay. They couldn’t hurt you like this. They couldn’t be upset before they really judged how good or bad your dance was. You knew they were angry. The thoughts Minjee had planted in their heads had been confirmed – You had just ruined the review. On purpose, no doubt.
Yes, yes this was bad, but you were going to be okay. You just had to breathe. Breathe and be patient. Wait until the whole dance were put together. Then let them judge. Then and only then.
But the silence was deafening. The thoughts directed at you, loud and obnoxious.
The door swung open. “Afternoon class.” Master Woo’s voice boomed.
The stares were over. They all slid off their desks and on the chairs. You knew that not all of them had been staring – Yuna had been politely looking out the window, but a lot of them had been. Time passed very slowly, but at least none of them had a chance to look at you, as Master Woo slowly began his lecture about the history of Pointe Shoes.
Perhaps it would have been interesting if he’d been more interested himself. Ballerinas had originally danced in high heel. The promiscuous Marie Taglioni – promiscuous because she came on stage in a calf length, sleeveless dress – had heavily darned her ballet slippers and performed an entire ballet on the tips of her toes. The Italians created more supporting shoes in secret, leaving the Russian dancers far behind.
But then Master Woo started going into the finer details of pointe shoe evolution, and it was impossible to make that interesting. The transition from newspaper to leather toe boxes couldn’t take your attention away from your class.
In front of you, Minjee and Seohyun sat passing notes. Seohyun suddenly burst into laughter, her eyes flicking back to you for just a second.
You had to breathe. You had to stay calm.
1…2…3 You started counting in you head.
The rain was heavier than ever as you made your way down the silent corridors to the studio. You’d skipped out on dinner. You knew it would draw unnecessary attention to you especially Madame Hyejins. You knew that Dawon would wonder where you were. You knew your class would notice and would think that they’d gotten to you. They hadn’t, at least, you kept telling yourself that.
You’d stayed sitting numbly in the library until it was time to get to your rehearsal. You had felt so out of yourself. As if their stares had taken away the assurance you’d had with yourself, and now you thought of that confident (Name) as a different person. You plugged in your iPod and scrolled down your playlist.
Clair de Lune.
Your chest ached for it. The sweet notes began playing in your mind.
Calm, familiar. You shut your eyes and pressed play. You had to hear it. Just once.
You sat down on the floor, reaching forward to hold your feet, breathing in and out slowly, letting the strain and the worries drain off you. Only a few of the lights were on, creating the dim, dreamy world of dusk. As you leant into the stretch, your gaze looked into the darkness. The memory of the notes wove into a glorious picture.
There he stood, his hands cupped, his chest rising and falling. Jimin. He stood there, as if he were your guardian angel. And as the music began to move, so did he, moving round the room so agile and fast, strong and sure. He circled you, joining with the notes, enveloping you in his and their warmth, taking you away from the stress and the pain. You felt protected. As if this familiarity would lead you through anything, the music escalated. Yes, yes he was familiar. The way he moved, the same steps you would take, the same expression.
“Ah, Clair de Lune.” Came a voice.
You snapped out of it. Madame Choi stood at the door, dressed in her usual black long sleeved leotard and skirt. You hurriedly stood up and curtsied, then switched off the music.
“A good piece. Quite lyrical.” She nodded in thought, and then walked in. “How is your concussion, Miss (Surname)?”
“Gone.” You said, pushing your thoughts from before completely away.
“There are a few changes I want to make after seeing the class today.” Madame Choi said.
“Good, now let’s begin.” She clapped her hands and went to stand where the audience would be.
You then immersed yourself in the exact thing that had caused all of today’s strife.
Madame Choi had changed several things, and she changed even more as she watched you rehearse. The technique you needed was becoming engrained, and you knew you were improving.
Like last night, you worked for hours. The rain was a constant companion to the piano, sometimes light, sometimes heavy. “Remember those extensions!” Madame Choi called as you went through the finishing bars. “And show the change! Good!”
The music ended and you stood up straight again, waiting for Madame Choi’s notes. But she was looking away distastefully. “I don’t doubt that you can pull this off, Miss (Surname), but we must both understand that it is a class competition.” She looked at you. “What I mean to say is that if we lose, don’t take it upon yourself.”
You nodded, though you knew you wouldn’t be able to help questioning.
Madame Choi sighed. “It’s very good. I don’t believe we can get any further without the rest of the class. Tomorrow you will be able to dance legally, as it were?”
“Good.” She said. “At least one of my students is ready.”
Just want to let you all know I’m not hating on JYP, but this is just a part of the plot.
Summary: “I can barely handle the in between, do you know that? I either have to act like I hate you, or like you’re the only weakness I’ll ever have in my entire life.”
A/N: I’m very sorry that this is just word vomit, really. Finn is just… Secondly, I love dogs more than life itself. Thirdly, #Finnfreeze and #killme. Fourthly, (jesus christ) per request, I’ll be tagging anyone that tells me to tag them in my fics. @neversatisfiedgirl
“Alright, so we’re getting off the exit right now, and we’ll be there in like 15 minutes.”
Spencer and Alice arrived at the BAU an hour later, Ellen and Robert in tow. The car had arrived on time, and had driven directly into the building’s parking structure meaning that if anyone HAD been watching the building, they wouldn’t have seen Alice enter it. She was pleased about that part at least.
She followed Dr Reid through the halls to the BAU’s offices, feeling eyes on her as she entered. Agent Hotchner was stood with a group of people, profilers she presumed knowing what happened on this floor. When he saw her he strode over.
“Alice, thank you for coming. Let me introduce you to the rest of mine and Dr Reid’s team and then we’ll get started. They’re fully briefed on what you’ve told us so far.”
He led her over to the small group of people, Spencer walking instep with her.
“Alright so these are Agents Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan and David Rossi.”
“I know you,” Alice turned to the older man of the group.
“I imagine you do if you’re taking Professor Frost’s class,“ Rossi greeted her, giving her a warm smile. She smiled back feeling somewhat at ease with these people, particularly David Rossi. She’d read all of his books and greatly admired his work.
“And this is our technical analyst Penelope Garcia.” Agent Hotchner turned to a cheerful looking blonde woman who wore bright green glasses and pink shoes. She smiled at Alice as well.
“Team, this is Alice Manchester, or Alice Bradley as she was known. Alice had kindly agreed to come in to talk to us about her experience and to help us work through this case.”
He turned to Spencer, “Dr Reid, can you set up in interview room two please. Dave will accompany you.” He’d seen the recognition that Alice had for Rossi and thought it might do better if she was interviewed by two people she knew, or at least knew of. He’d be the other side of the glass listening.
Spencer nodded and led Alice away. Her sister and brother in law lagged behind.
“Why are we here, exactly?” Ellen asked the Agent.
“Because we’ll need to interview you both about Alice’s behaviour when she returned home, and I imagine you both want answers as well. She won’t talk with you to in the room, she made that much clear last night. But you can remain behind the glass with myself.”
“Just to be clear here, Alice isn’t in any trouble here is she? She’s not under arrest or anything?” Robert spoke, a worried look on his face.
“No, she’s not. She’s assisting us with what has the potential to be a very confusing case. At the moment she’s the only witness we’ve got.”
Hotch gave orders to the other team members, before leading Robert and Ellen through to the room where they could watch Alices interview. Through the glass he could see Rossi handing both Dr Reid and Alice coffee before settling down with one himself. He said something to the girl that made her laugh, her shoulders relaxing, Hotch couldn’t hear it as he hadn’t flicked the switch that allowed their voices to be heard but he was pleased to see that she looked more at ease. This would be easier that way.
“If you’d like to take a seat then I’ll go and tell them to begin when ready.” Aaron left the room and knocked three times on the interview room door before entering.
“We’re ready when you are. Take your time Alice and remember, we will protect you at all costs if you can lead us to the people that have murdered these 38 and possibly more, victims.”
“Are they next door too?” she nodded to the glass, not knowing that she was actually looking directly at her sister, their eyes locked through the two way mirror.
“Yes. But if you’ve changed your mind and don’t want them to hear this, then I can move them to a different room. I’ll be in there with them and I’ll be feeding any names or information you give us to our Technical Analyst Penelope.”
“It’s fine. At least now they’ll know.” Looking directly at the glass she spoke again, "Please don’t hate me.”
Spencer shifted in his chair, picking up the box of photos and the bracelets that Alice had allowed him to bring. He handed one particular photo to Hotch, a photo that showed Alice with both Lewis and Marnie Goldstein.
Aaron viewed it carefully and nodded, taking it with him as he exited the room.
“Where do you want me to start?"Alice asked Spencer, taking a sip of the hot coffee in front of her.
A/N: this was so exciting bc 80s and I got to listen to 80s music again, and I just love blaine. I don’t really remember the movie, so here it is. God this is so funny lol
“So, how do i look?”
You asked the guys, stepping out of the cabin.
“You remind me of my wife.” Lou smirked.
“Fine as a motherfucker.” Nick smiled, giving you a thumbs up.
“You look spectacular, (Y/N).” Adam said.
“Wow.” was the only thing Jacob said, before all of you walked out.
You were dressed in some denim jeans and bright pink shoes, matched with a cropped grey and neon sweater that hung loosely just below your shoulders. Your hair was teased a little too much, but was tied back in a yellow pony tail.
“I thank myself for looking back at my mom’s old high school pictures.” You laughed before stepping outside of the cabin where the party was held. You stopped at the logged door, surrounding each other.
“Alright, remember. Blaine is a dick sucking asshole.” Lou explained. “He’s gonna beat me up again, just get ready for that.” He explained to everyone what the plan was, but let you out.
“So, what do I do?” You asked.
Lou looked at you. “Hmm.I..” The door opened. “Act sexy. I don’t know!” he whisper shouted, going into the cabin as the others followed along. “Just don’t let him see you.“
“What..” you muttered under your breath. Act like a slut? How would you do that?
“The can is somewhere in here..” Adam said by your side. “We’ll find it while you and Jacob stay down here, alright kid?” You slowly nodded before he ran upstairs.
“Jacob what the fuck do we do?” You asked in worry. He shrugged. “Dammit.”
“Just stay calm, alright?” He said, holding your shoulders. “Don’t talk to anyone.” He said before going into the kitchen.
“Jacob? Jacob!” You whispered but he left you. You sighed and sat down on the couch, enjoying the sound of the PetShop Boys playing in the back.
You first met the guys back in 2009. You went to school with Jacob and that’s how you met his crazy dad friends. They thought Jacob was gay but you pretended to be his girlfriend, but finally told them that you guys weren’t together. Long story short, they invited you to the lodge to party with them, until here you were, suck in the 80s. You would’ve been born by now.
Suddenly, you heard running down the stairs, and saw the guys along with Kelly all in a group, facing someone on the other side of the room. The guy was surrounded by frat looking boys, cocky and upfront, they looked.
That was probably Blaine and his dick sucking friends.
“Can we have that back?” Nick asked, pointing to the can Blaine was holding. Holy shit, we need that to get home.
You stood behind them, worried. This is the part where Lou gets beat.
“Bad news for you, sport. I’m a patriot.” Blaine explained. What the fuck. “Americaa.”
“Blaine, give it to us, please.” Lou stepped.
“Come and get it then.” Blaine said, throwing the can to one of his friends, gesturing for Lou to come closer. Lou did as instructed, trying to throw a punch but failed. Blaine ended up giving Lou a good whack in the face.
The crowed ooed and laughed, as Lou got on the floor by Nick’s feet.
“Are you alright?” Jacob asked, propping him up.”
“You got this, Lou. Tear his little white boy as up!” Nick encouraged.
“You’re bleeding, Lou.” You said, coming out of the crowed, bending to Lou’s height. You wiped the blood from his nose and wiped it on the couch.
“Woah, woah woah.” Blaine said, taking off his jacket. “Who is this fine thing?” He smirked, looking down at you. Shit. Don’t be seen, don’t be seen.
“This is (Y/N)..” Lou said, wiping his nose. “Shit…” He muttered.
“(Y/N), huh?” He asked. You stood up, hands clutching your sweater as you made sweater paws. “Damn.” He bit his lip, eyeing you up and down as bait.
“Blaine.” You said, clearing your throat.
“You know my name, huh sweetie?” He asked, stepping closer. “You’re hot.” He whispered in your ear before backing away. You shivered at his voice, cursing to yourself because you found Blaine slightly attractive. Fucker.
“How bout we make a deal, Lou.” Blaine explained. By now, Lou was standing up. “You get your little spy kit, along with this bomb thing, and we get the girl.” Blaine smiled widely, biting his lip.
“No, you can’t take her!” Jacob yelled, defending you.
“What are you, her boyfriend?” One of Blaine’s friends asked. “Queer.” He smirked.
“You can’t take her, Blaine. Just give us the bag. We mean no harm.” Adam said.
Blaine was about to speak, about to spike up the fight a bit more but you cleared your throat and interrupted. “No. I-it’s fine. I’ll go with him, alright guys?” You softly smiled at the group, walking over to Blaine.
Nick grabbed your hand. “No, (Y/N). Don’t.” but you pulled away.
“Don’t leave without me.” You whispered before yanking your arm and walking to Blaine. The others overheard and played along.
“Have her.” Lou spoke.
Blaine wrapped his arm around your waist, hugging tightly enough to leave marks. He tossed the bags to the others as they ran out the door. Nick was the last to come out, and held the can in his hand.
“See this shit?” He yelled. “It is a bomb. If you don’t count to 5000 all of y’all will explode!” He said before slamming the door. Everyone looked confused as Blaine led you upstairs to his room, and locked the door.
“I’ll protect you!” He said, shutting his blinds. Is he kidding?”
“Blaine..They’re lying.” You sighed.
He turned his head to you. “What?!”
“It was just a bottle.” you lied. “Weed and shit.”
“Oh..How do you know?” he asked, sitting on his bed as you stood.
“I’m friends with them?”
“Why are you friends with those losers?” He smirked. “You made a wise choice to stay with me.” He said, gripping your waist to pull you into his body.
You had to get this guy off of you, but if you didn’t play along, he’d never let you go. You sighed. Fuck it.
“To-to get closer to you.” You explained, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him to your lips. His lips were warm. The taste of chapstick and beer were on his lips as they met yours. You tried to stop the smile that was on your face, but it wouldn’t disappear. He lifted you onto his waist as he sat down on his bed.
“Are we actually doing this?” Blaine panted in-between the kiss. You nodded. “Score.”
You ripped the buttons off of hit red plaid shirt, flinging it to the side as he took off your sweater.
“This is gonna be a long night.”
When you heard Blaine next to you snoring, that was your que to leave. Taking his arm off of you, you sighed, getting your clothes and put them on, accept your yellow pony tail. You sat that on the bedside table and started writing a note.
You probably might not remember, but when you get to 2010, look me up, will you? - (Y/N).
you smiled, setting the note under the band and headed out the window to find the guys waiting.
“Shit, (Y/N). You’re alive!” Lou said, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. You smiled.
“How’d you get out? How’d you distract him?” Adam asked.
genre: sMUT! don’t read if you’re not comfortable with that!
words: 9K (i know, I basically wrote a novel)
summary: despite being the boring, stiff worker for a trendy and large company, you're asked to join the celebration of a co-worker with your other co-workers, totally unaware of what the night had in store for you.
members: jungkook & jimin from bts
!!WARNING!!this smut contains some BDSM themes, as well as breathplay and thigh riding. (I told ya’ll this was gonna be intense) if you’re not comfortable with that, once again please don’t continue to read further onwards.
A/N: so, after this jikook dance, I immediately thought of the idea of this scenario. smut isn’t exactly something i tend to write (i think i've only written this like, three times in my entire life) so, i apologise if this sucks butt. i tried though! please send in feedback, so I can either plan other smut scenarios or just not write them at all, lol. i hope you’re all having a wonderful day and I hope you enjoy this scenario! happy reading! x
Aries: halter tops, messy buns, late night walks, warm rain and thunder, moss on the edge of a pond, white marble statues
Taurus: white converse high tops, blue eyes, cute socks, long straight hair, red lipstick, sweet fruit
Gemini: oversized sweaters, running in the rain, nike pros, French Bulldogs, gossip girl, nose rings
Cancer: beach hair, peach nail polish, flash tattoos, driving through the forest with the windows down, antique tea sets, neon sweatshirts
Leo: short stories, cold coffee, bright pink tennis shoes, matte lipstick, cats, face stickers
Virgo: road trips, graphic tees, poetry books, walking in the moonlight, horror movies, floppy hats
Libra: succulents, wedges, freshly baked cookies, sparkling water, white dresses, lavender tea
Scorpio: just washed laundry, cute little dogs, floral scented perfume, blueberry scones, fireflies, holding hands
Sagittarius: freshly cut grass, netflix and coffee, Birkenstocks, snow days, graphic tote bags, Ray bans
Capricorn: vintage tee shirts, long books, white sheets, midnight phone calls, good morning texts, new running shoes
Aquarius: cute cafes, shawls, heart shaped sunglasses, fruit smoothies, art museums, light pink lipstick
Pisces: ripped jeans, band tee shirts, bath and body works candles, heart shaped pizzas, clear blue skies, cemetery statues
“I think I am very fortunate to be in a position where what I do is so creative that it inspires my own personal style, be it in the sofa I get for my house, or the bright pink mental shoes I want to put on my feet or even in the way I cut my hair.” – Emilia Clarke for Yahoo Style (x)
Style, for me, means a lot of things. It’s self-expression. I think I am very fortunate to be in a position where what I do
is so creative that it inspires my own personal style, be it in the sofa
I get for my house, or the bright pink mental shoes I want to put on my
feet or even in the way I cut my hair. I think a lot of the social
media that we have at the moment are really exciting platforms to have
at your fingertips. Instagram, Pinterest…all these brilliant things
allow you to have a constant stimulus of creativity that can add to your
own natural style. The key to style, in my eyes, is being able to have
as many influences as possible, to broaden your horizons. You can shock
yourself about what you are actually attracted to, what makes you happy
and what puts a smile on your face.